Close Up the Sky (11 page)

"Any
indication as to their identity?"

"We can only
speculate on
who
, but we do know
approximately
when
it was done."

"I don't
follow you, sir," Leahy was nonplussed.

"Perhaps Dr.
Kasdan could explain this part better than I can," offered Durant.

Kasdan shifted to
the edge of his chair and faced Matt. "After the field team recovered the
first few fragments of the substance, they dug deeper, looking for more. About
five feet below the surface they found the remains of a broken tool that was
once part of a pick or mattock. A little deeper, parts of the meteorite itself
began to appear, but no stellarite mass. They were about to abandon the dig
when one of them found something else." He took the manila folder off
Durant's desk and opened it. He fished inside and removed a sealed envelope,
tore off the end and emptied a metal disk into his hand. He examined it for a
few seconds, and then handed it to Leahy. It was a little larger than a silver
dollar and appeared to be made of bronze or copper. There was a small loop on
the top edge, indicating that it was a pendant of some kind. Its surface was
rough and pitted from exposure, but the image embossed on its surface was still
discernible in fair detail. The likeness of a vulture was engraved on both
sides. The wings and legs were spread-eagled to touch the edges of the disk,
while each foot gripped a small ball in its talons. Engraved around the
vulture’s neck was a chain supporting an oval that covered most of the bird’s
chest.
Inside the oval were characters that appeared to be
some form of writing, but they were too worn to make out any detail. The head
was turned to the left, giving a profile view of the sharp beak. Its round
eyeball stared at him in mute apathy.

"The site
where the meteorite was discovered is in Egypt," continued Kasdan. "Disks
such as that one were once worn by soldiers who comprised a pharaoh's personal
guard. One of them probably lost it while they were digging. If there really
was a larger piece of stellarite, we believe that's who took it."

"A pharaoh's
guard?" Matt asked incredulously. "You mean
Pharaoh
, like who built the pyramids?"

"Yes, only
not quite that old," Kasdan replied with a smile.

"It was
common for the pharaoh's guard to wear the emblem of the royal family," Taylor
put in. "That disk is a relief of the vulture goddess Nekhbet. The oval at
the end of the necklace is a cartouche bearing the name of the reigning pharaoh
along with his usual epithet. It's hard to make out without magnification, but
in this case the name is Ramses II, last of the great Egyptian Pharaohs."

“Ramses II,” Leahy
repeated, a blank look on his face. He shook his head and looked at each of
them in turn. “And just how do you expect to find out what he did with the
stellarite, or even
when
he did it
for that matter?"

“It’s only a
theory,” Kasdan replied, “but we think we may know the approximate time that
the meteorite struck. A papyrus scroll found in the tomb of an Egyptian noble
who lived at that time makes reference to Amen sending a great star to
celebrate the birthday of Ramses in 1250 B.C., and to guide him on his journey
to the next world when he died. The noble was apparently a friend of the
pharaoh, and hoped that he, too, would benefit from the star. He died shortly
after the event, and was buried near the Valley of the Kings, close to the
impact crater. Our astronomers tell us that the meteor would have had to be
very large to make a noticeable fireball as it burned through the atmosphere. We
think the star referred to in the scroll may have been that meteorite. If it
was
, Ramses would undoubtedly have sent someone to
investigate its whereabouts immediately after the sighting. It's our guess that
his workmen and soldiers found the site and took the stellarite because of its
glow."

Matt laughed. "So
all we have to do is track these people to wherever they took it, and take it
back," he said with amusement.

Durant and Taylor
glanced at each other, and then back at Matt.

"Exactly!"
Durant responded with surprised enthusiasm. "Of course it won't be quite
that simple."

Leahy grinned and
said, "I was being facetious, Dr. Durant. Surely you can't be serious
about this."

Durant looked
shocked. "I've never been more serious, Matt. It's the only chance we
have. Just think of what it would be like to be trapped forever in an age
before man ever existed, or in an era inhabited by savage half-men and
predatory animals. Many of our people are operating in those times. I see them
in my mind, trying to live in an ice-age world covered with glaciers, dying of
exposure to numbing cold or starvation. I see them fighting to stay alive in
the choking heat and humidity of some primeval swamp, never knowing why their
pagers won't work. Those whose missions are in more civilized times could adapt
and live out their lives with the contemporaries, but they're the lucky ones. All
they have to fear is never seeing home again." He put both hands on the
desktop and leaned toward Matt, his watery eyes reflecting exhaustion. He
obviously had been under terrific strain for weeks, maybe months, and the
situation had reached the critical stage. "Yes, we're serious,” he said. “There
are no longer any options. We know the chance is slim, but we have to take
it."

"You're sure
there are no other sources of stellarite?"

He shook his head.
"None. If any other meteors survived the transit through the atmosphere
they must have gone into the seas."

"Then I guess
we better get started." He nodded toward the dossier in Kasdan's hand. "What
about the missing agent? How does he figure into this?"

Durant took the
folder from Kasdan and removed the top sheet of paper. “In a manner of speaking
you could say he's responsible for the entire project. In addition to being one
of our best operatives, he's also the discoverer of stellarite. As such, he was
the logical choice to head the field team sent to examine the Egyptian
meteorite. Besides that, many of the agents who stand to be lost in time are
his friends, so he insisted on leading the first expedition. In a way, he felt
responsible for their predicament."

"The first
expedition?" Matt inquired.

"Yes. None of
them returned at the designated time, so another agent was sent to find
them."

Matt saw Taylor
stiffen, but she remained silent.

“When the first
team didn’t return,” Kasdan put in, “we sent one of our best operatives to
investigate. He found their bodies buried in a shallow grave near the
excavation site. That is, all except
that
man." He pointed to the paper in Durant's hand.

Matt felt goose
bumps on his legs and arms.
God help us,
he
thought,
this isn't just a case of
trying to find a piece of missing green
rock; we're talking about mass murder!
He tried to lick his lips, but found
his mouth had gone dry.

Kasdan went on. "From
the condition of the bodies it was hard to tell how they were killed, but the
investigator found a number of expended pistol shell casings lying around the
site. However, the strange thing is that the weapons they carried were still
holstered on their bodies. None of them had been fired. They must have been
taken by surprise, and had no time to even draw them. But the team leader,
that’s his dossier,” he pointed at the folder, “apparently used his weapon. There's
no other way to account for a number of casings scattered about the area. When
we find him, we may have the answer to many of our questions."

"This
investigator," said Matt. "You say he couldn't tell how they were
killed?"

Durant and Taylor
exchanged a quick glance.

"There was
some speculation, but nothing concrete," Durant said.

"What kind of
speculation?"

Durant hesitated.

"Dr. Durant,
you agreed to hold nothing back. We discussed that already." Matt's voice
contained an edge of irritation.

"He couldn't
be sure, Matt, but he thinks they were shot." Durant continued.

"Shot! You
mean your own man killed them?"

"I don't
believe that, Matt," Taylor interjected. "I knew him; we worked
together many times. There's another explanation, and we'll find it. I'm
certain of it."

“I quite agree,”
said Kasdan. He had been unconsciously drumming his fingers on his leg. “I had
the experience of working with him on a number of expeditions. I will never
believe that he could have committed such a terrible act. In fact, I was
heading a team in that era at about the same time that all this happened. It
was our intention to join forces with his team for mutual assistance, only we
were never able to contact them. It was only later that we learned why they
never answered our radio calls."

"Who is this
man, anyway? May I see the dossier?" he held out his hand.

“That’s why you’re
here, Matt. If this man is ever located, we doubt that he will ever surrender
to anyone but you.” Durant stuck the paper back into the folder and closed it. "For
what it's worth, I share both Taylor's and Dr. Kasdan's opinions." He
handed the folder to Leahy.

He flipped the
cover open and took out the first sheet. It was a personal information form
with a color photograph in the upper left corner. Matt suddenly felt weak and
cold. His hand trembled slightly as he held the paper closer to his eyes. He
stared at the photograph. The man in the picture looked back at him with a
familiar boyish grin.

It was Edward
Leahy.

M
att stood at the open closet and visually examined the black
jump suits hanging inside. There were six of them, completely unadorned. On the
floor were two pairs of black military boots. He picked up a boot and turned
back the top edge to check the size: ten, his size. He tossed it back onto the
floor and hung up his raincoat, the only luggage he had brought with him from
Atlanta.

The apartment
assigned to him consisted of three small rooms: a bath, bedroom, and living
room. It was not large but it was comfortably furnished. He walked to the
cherry wood dresser and opened a drawer. A half dozen sets of underwear and
socks lay neatly arranged inside. He was not surprised to find shaving gear,
toothbrush, and other toiletry items in the bathroom.
All the
comforts of home.

Judging from the
clothing that had been prepared for him, it was obvious that Durant and his
associates had been certain of his cooperation before they asked for it. Edward
had undoubtedly been their ace in the hole. He sat down on the sofa and picked
up his brother’s dossier. He opened it to the first page and gazed at the
photograph. A knot formed in his stomach.

"How in hell
did you get involved in this?" he asked the picture. In spite of the
strong circumstantial evidence, he refused to believe Edward was guilty of
murder. But if he was innocent, where was he? If he was dead, his body should
have been found with the others. There were no firearms in 1250 B.C. except for
those carried by the members of Edward's expedition. If the field team had
actually died from gunshot wounds, and Edward was missing, there was only one
logical conclusion: he had killed them. But what motive could he have had? Judging
from Taylor's comments he was well liked by the other agents. And Durant had
said that as the discoverer of stellarite, he had felt personally responsible
for their current predicament. That attitude did not fit the character of
someone responsible for the brutal murders of two men and a woman. None of it
made any sense. For starters, he needed to talk to the man who found the
bodies. But tonight, he was too tired to think.

He glanced at his
watch. It was after ten, but he did not want to sleep just yet. He pulled the
curtains open and looked out at the big courtyard. No one was in sight so he
went out and walked over to the swimming pool. The water shimmered under the
building lights, and a gentle breeze rippled the surface.

He looked up at
the
stars,
sharp and glowing in the clear desert air. He
wondered if they had changed their positions to any perceptible degree over the
three thousand years that had passed since Ramses II had ruled Egypt. The night
sky made him think of Edward again. As boys they had spent many nights lying in
the backyard of their parents’ home in Georgia gazing at the cool points of
light in the darkness of space. If Edward was still alive, was he even now
looking at these same stars, only in a different time and place?

He reached into
his pocket and fished out the keys to his brother's apartment. Durant had given
them to him so he could go through Edward's personal effects. He held them up
and reflected the building lights off the brass identification tag for
apartment C24. Leaving the pool, he followed the narrow concrete walkway along
the front of the apartments until he found the number. He took a deep breath
and exhaled slowly before inserting the key. He opened the door and stood on
the threshold for a few seconds, listening to the silence within. After a few
blind tries he found the light switch inside the door. He flipped it on and
entered. The furniture was almost identical to that in his apartment, but the
items decorating the walls and tabletops were remarkably different.

A poster-size
black-and-white photo enlargement of a group of soldiers hung over the sofa. Their
uniforms indicated that they might have been from the American Revolutionary
War era. A pair of swords with yellow tassels on their handles hung on the wall
to the left of the poster. On the opposite side, a brace of flintlock pistols
in black leather holsters on a heavy leather belt hung from a wall hook. The
brass belt buckle gleamed in the overhead light. The holsters had a number of
deep scratches and scars in the leather, indicating that they had seen hard
duty for a long time. The other walls were adorned with a profusion of
photographs depicting scenes from bygone ages. He walked over to one of the
larger pictures and examined it. The bearded face of a barbarian looked back at
him with dark, hungry eyes. Long, matted hair hung down to his shoulders in
oily ropes, lips pulled back in a crooked grin. The teeth were broken and
yellow, but, surprisingly, showed no decay. A group of other men wearing skins
and holding long spears stood a short distance behind him, their attention
focused on meat roasting over a smoky fire. Patches of snow under a gray sky
dotted the background, giving the scene a cold and forlorn appearance.