Close Up the Sky (22 page)

Leahy watched, fascinated, as the tube stopped its downward motion and began
to rotate. The stellarite turned with it, displaying its opposite side. On that
side it was dark and pitted, with hundreds of hairline fractures running
through most of its mass. He felt a sickening feeling in his stomach, for here
was the greatest source of power man had ever discovered, all but destroyed by
the deranged mind of man himself. That the saboteur was insane he had no doubt,
for only a maniac could be capable of such a wanton act of irreversible
destruction. He stood staring at the tortured jewel for an interminable time
before he found his voice.

“How was it done?” he asked softly.

“We don’t know,” Durant answered. “We have been unable to remove it for
examination because of the fractures. The risk of crumbling is too great. Until
we get a new supply it will have to stay where it is.”

Leahy moved closer to the railing and scrutinized the stellarite for at
least a full minute. No one spoke while he gazed at it. “It looks burned,” he
finally said. “Almost like someone took a torch to it.” He turned around to
find Summerhour giving him a steely look. Their eyes locked and held for a
second before Summerhour glanced away.

“It does look burned,” Durant said. “But in reality it’s been
crystallized. It looks dark because the fractures have broken it into minute
pieces. The cracks interfere with its luminosity in some way.”

Leahy relinquished his fascination with the stellarite and returned to
his role as investigator. “Is there any other way into this room?” he asked. He
was still watching Summerhour, who had walked over to the rail and turned his
back to them. Except for lying to him back in Atlanta, there was no logical
reason for the powerful feeling of distrust he had acquired for the man. He
admitted to himself that under similar circumstances he might have done the
same thing. However, the self-admission did nothing to lessen the feeling of
anxiety he had developed since Summerhour had reappeared. On the surface there
was nothing wrong with him, but surface impressions could be deceptive. He could
not shake off the feeling that Summerhour was something other than what he
appeared to be. The fact was
,
he simply did not like
him.

“There’s no other way,” he heard Durant say.

With an effort he turned his thoughts away from Summerhour and back to
the situation at hand. He turned in a circle, sweeping the ceiling with his
eyes. “What about air ducts or equipment conduits?” he asked.

“Nothing over twelve inches in diameter. Certainly not large enough to
accommodate a man," Durant replied.

Leahy’s lips became a thin line. He shook his head and asked, “What’s
above the ceiling and beneath the floor?”

“Four feet of concrete layered with steel mesh and vibration sensors,”
Summerhour put in. He turned to face Leahy. “It would be impossible for anyone
to get through it without setting off a dozen alarms.” He shoved his hands into
his pockets and blew out a breath. “Besides, we’ve already checked that. Nothing
above or below this floor has been disturbed.”

“How far are we below the level above?” Leahy asked.

Summerhour glanced at the ceiling and said, “Fifty feet, with nothing
between but rock and dirt.”

“I assume you’ve checked the walls of the elevator shaft for signs of
tunneling?”

“One of the first things. They haven’t been breached.” He pointed toward
the doors and added, “You can rest assured, that’s the only way in and it takes
two people to operate them.”

Leahy glanced at the doors then back to Summerhour. “What do you mean?”

“A safety precaution. The Chronocom doors can only be opened or closed
from the computer terminal you saw outside. Built-in sensors that detect human
presence inside the entrance foyer where the dust was evacuated from our bodies
operate the inner doors. They won’t open until the outer ones are closed and
the cleaning process is finished. So you can see, it takes a minimum of two
people working together to gain access to this room and lower the shield. One
of them would have to be someone who knows how to obtain the entrance code from
the mainframe, and that code changes every hour. That person would have to open
and close the outer doors. The other one would have to be in here when the code
is entered at the computer terminal.”

Leahy looked at the doors again. It appeared that Summerhour had all the
answers. He had the feeling that no matter what he asked, the response would be
the same: Impossible. All of the questions he had asked so far were basic ones,
and had probably been covered by the initial investigators. The FBI agents who
had conducted that investigation would most certainly have asked the same
things and had verified the answers. Admittedly, the Chronocom appeared to be
in an impregnable location; yet it had been sabotaged. Or had it? If it was
impossible to physically get to the machine, then the answer did not lie within
the confines of this room. Another theory suddenly dawned on him. The machine
was impregnable to outside forces,
but
was it protected from
itself
? This
new line of thought was in total opposition to the idea of sabotage, but it was
worth exploring. Edward's encrypted file kept flashing in his head: ENTER
PASSWORD. The only person in the room he totally trusted was Taylor, but he
could not explore the new idea with her until they were alone. He nodded to
himself and turned to face Summerhour. He took a few steps toward the other man
and intentionally violated his personal space. They were almost nose-to-nose.

“Since we’ve covered the obvious, I don’t suppose you’ve developed any
theories about how it was done?” he asked in a quiet voice.

Summerhour refused to be intimidated by the tactic. He did not budge and
met Leahy’s look squarely. “Yes,” he answered through clenched teeth. “But at
this point they’re not sufficiently developed to discuss them with any degree
of intelligence.”

Durant, perceiving a potentially dangerous situation, cleared his throat
and said, “Do you want to see anything else, Matt?”

He and Summerhour continued to stare at each other a few seconds longer
before he answered. “No, I’ve seen enough for now.” He turned away from
Summerhour and looked once more at the stellarite. The undamaged side had
rotated back towards them. In the low light it cast a green radiance across
their faces.

He felt a soft touch on his arm and turned to find
Taylor standing close to him. He looked at her face and saw the stellarite’s
reflection in her eyes. They were almost the same shade of green as the element
itself. He glanced back at the Chronocom and watched as Durant entered the code
to return the machine to its original position. The red tube and black shaft
began to ascend together to the bottom of the dome. The radiance diminished
then vanished as the process was completed.

Back at the upper level, Williams, Durant and Summerhour left to make
arrangements for their departure, leaving Leahy and Taylor alone.

“Do you remember when I asked Dr. Durant if he knew anything about the
term Babylon Station?” he asked as they made their way along the tunnels.

She nodded.

“Does it mean anything to you?”

“Nothing. Do you think it’s significant?”

“It was written on a piece of paper marking a chapter in one of Edward’s
books. It fell out while I was flipping through it. There was also an encrypted
attachment on one of the files I've been looking at. I thought the two things
might be related."

She looked puzzled. “I never saw an encrypted entry in any of the records
before. What did the file pertain to?"

"It was one of the Middle Eastern expeditions. I didn't notice
anything unusual in the report itself, but I made a mental note of the file
number. Maybe we could work on it later." They walked in silence for a
short distance. "There's another thing," he continued. "Mike
Summerhour's name was mentioned as being a member of at least three of Edward's
expeditions, including the encrypted one."

Taylor shot him a sideways glance. "What are you thinking?"

Leahy shook his head and smiled wryly. "I wish I knew.
Probably just an overworked imagination.
Will he be in
charge of our team?" he asked Taylor.

"Each team selects its own leader based on his or her experience and
knowledge of the time period in which they’ll be working. Mike's been with the
program almost since its inception. He's probably the most knowledgeable agent
we have. He has more field time than anyone else, so he'd be the natural choice
as team leader. And by the way, I noticed that you’re not exactly in love with
him. Is there a problem?”

He answered her with another question. "How familiar is he with the
era where we're going?"

She thought it over for a minute then said, "I don't know about that
exact target date, but I do know he was in charge of several expeditions close
to that time period plus or minus fifty years or so."

Leahy nodded. "This is going to be a hard question to phrase, so
I'll just put it in ordinary police English. Is it possible to do something in
the past that changes the future, but we in the future are not aware that
anything has been changed when it happens?"

She stopped and searched his face. “That’s a really cryptic question. What
are you driving at?"

"I mean, suppose there was something in the past that wasn't a
problem
then,
but because
circumstances have changed over the millennia, it's causing a serious problem
now
. Could we fix it in the past so the
problem goes away, or change it enough so that it's at least minimized in the
here-and-now? I know Dr. Durant said we can't alter history, but maybe we could
correct it just a mite and nothing would be adversely affected."

"Like verifying the authenticity of the Bible Scriptures? Something
like
that?"

"In a way, but more physical. More like a project that has the
potential of altering the future beyond today. It may be something that hasn't
manifested itself yet, but could be activated at a later date if necessary.
Something that would take a tremendous amount of energy to
accomplish.
Maybe even overtax the capabilities of that machine down
there."

"You mean like a time bomb? You plant it in a specific place in the
past and it explodes at some predetermined date in the future? Maybe at a
location that doesn’t exist in the future yet?”

"That’s not a bad analogy," he complimented her. “But on a much
grander scale.”

She shook her head. "Pardon the pun, but things take a long time to
change. You have to remember that most of man's progress has taken place in
just the last hundred years or so. I’m not sure anything from the past could
effect a change in the present on a grand scale. And what could possibly
overtax the Chronocom’s capabilities? Can you give me a scenario?"

"Yeah, but let me formulate it first. It's just a half-baked idea
right now." He thought about what she had just said and smiled inwardly at
the simple truth of it. His personal world had changed drastically in just a
few short days. Indications were that it was going to continue to change at a
rapid pace.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said, changing the subject. “What’s
the purpose of these time trips? What do we gain from them?"

"Historical verification for the most part. That's what most of them
are about."

"Historical verification?" he repeated.

They came to a halt at the elevator doors leading to the surface and
Taylor punched the button as she answered him. "I mean establishing
whether or not a particular event really took place, who was involved, when,
where…….that
sort of thing. Some of them involve geological
research, but many of the expeditions are classified. Only a few individuals
with top-secret clearances like Dr. Durant or Dr. Kasdan would know about the
findings."

Leahy pulled thoughtfully at his lower lip for a couple of seconds then
asked, "What about Edward's last trip before the murders? Do you remember
what it was about?"

"Not really. Do you want me to check on it?"

“Don’t bother. I have a hunch we’re about to find out anyway,” he said. “By
the way, when do we leave for Albuquerque?"

She consulted her watch and said, "By noon at the latest. If we
started now, we'd be late. Mike and I already have our gear, but you and Chuck
need to be outfitted."

"Before we do that I need to get in touch with Pierce. He'll be
expecting a call tonight and he won't get one. I'll try to contact him by
telephone first, but if that doesn't work we'll have to get a message to him.” He
looked at her and asked, "If I can't get him by phone can you arrange
through Major Durham to get a message to him by chopper?"

She nodded. "He'll see it's delivered. What are you going to tell
him?"

"As little as possible until I see him in person. I mainly want him
to run a check on somebody. I'll tell him in the note that we'll call him from
the airport between two-thirty and three. He should be able to get the information
I need by then. I don’t know what else we can do. You want to add
something?"

She considered it for a few seconds then shook her head.

The elevator doors opened with a hiss and they stepped inside. Leahy felt
the usual stomach drop as it snatched them upward. "What's the first thing
on the agenda?" he asked.

A sly smile crept across her face. "Wardrobe," she answered. "I
can't wait to see what you look like in a loincloth."

"Loincloth," he laughed, shaking his head. "Well,
let's make it as fast as possible. I want to use Dr. Durant’s computer terminal
for a few minutes. I think I might know what the password is for that
attachment."

Leahy had been unable to get in touch with Pierce by telephone, so he had
composed a note for delivery by helicopter. Fifteen minutes after giving it to
Taylor he was alone in front of the computer terminal in Durant’s office.