Close Up the Sky (7 page)

"Would you
notify Dr. Durant that we're here, please?" she asked the sergeant.

"He was
notified immediately as you landed, Miss Griffin. He requested that you and Mr.
Leahy meet him in the lower cafeteria."

"Thank you,
Sergeant." She guided Leahy over to the glass cubicle and stopped at a
monitor built into the wall. It came to life at their approach, apparently
activated by their presence. The screen glowed blue, with pulsing amber letters
across the bottom that read PRESS PALM AND FINGERS OF LEFT HAND IN CENTER OF
SCREEN. Taylor placed her hand on the screen as directed. The blue color
changed to white and she took her hand away. VERIFICATION CONFIRMED: GRIFFIN,
TAYLOR L. - CLEARANCE TYPE 100.1 appeared on the screen. Within a few seconds
it changed back to blue and the cubicle door slid open.

"After I go
into the hallway, press your palm against the screen," she said to Leahy.

She passed through
into the glass cubicle and waited. After a few seconds the door closed and she
was bathed in violet light emanating from apertures in the walls and floor. After
a few seconds the lights went out, the rear door opened, and she stepped into
the hallway.

Leahy turned to
the monitor and followed her instructions. When the panel changed to white he
removed his hand. The same words appeared, except the clearance type had
changed to 100.R04. When the cubicle door opened he stepped into the foyer. When
the violet lights came on he examined their source with a practiced eye. There
were at least a dozen of them situated at various places inside the cubicle. They
were about two inches in diameter and resembled camera lenses. He suspected
that they were some type of sophisticated search equipment. When the procedure
concluded he joined Taylor in the hallway. The Marines remained stationary,
eyes straight ahead. Leahy wondered what they would have done if he and Taylor
had tried to pass through the cubicle at the same time. However, from what he
had witnessed aboard the helicopter, he was not anxious to learn.

The hallway floor,
made of black ceramic tile, was about thirty yards long. It was deserted, and
as they walked Taylor's high heel shoes made little clicking echoes. All the
doors they passed were unmarked and closed. When they reached the end of the
corridor they turned left into a short hallway ending in a bank of elevator
doors. Taylor pressed the call button.

"Are you
hungry?" she asked.

"Are you
kidding?” He made a painful face and put his hand over his stomach. “I could
eat the haunch off an elephant."

She grinned. "So
could I. Maybe it will be on tonight's menu."

Leahy glanced
around the hallway. "There doesn't seem to be anyone working. Is it always
this deserted?"

“No, most of the
rooms on this level are administrative offices. The pencil pushers have all
gone home for the day. Most of the complex is below ground. That’s where the
labs are. I think you’ll find it quite interesting."

They gazed at each
other in silent communication for a few seconds.

"So far,
everything I've seen has been quite interesting," he said. The innuendo
was not lost on her, and she smiled.

As they waited she
saw him glance at his watch. The simple action brought an amused expression to
her face. Consulting a watch was something people did dozens of times a day in
their busy world, but she had not worn one for over four years. In her world a
timepiece was of little importance, and she knew that before long Matt Leahy would
feel the same way. He just did not know it yet.

The elevator doors
opened with a musical tone and they stepped inside. Taylor inserted her ID card
into a slot above the selection panel then removed it. When the doors closed,
she pressed number eight. Leahy felt the floor fall from beneath him as the
elevator shot downward at twice-normal speed. He grabbed the handrail and
caught his breath.

Taylor placed a
sympathetic hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. I should have warned you. The
elevators in this building descend as though someone cut the cable. I almost
threw up the first time I used one of them."

He felt his weight
compressing as they slowed to a stop. "No problem. I'm used to falling off
eight-story buildings," he said with a sour look.

The doors opened
into a wide tunnel lit by overhead fluorescent tubes. As in the hallway, the
floor was paved with ceramic tile. However, unlike the entrance level of the
complex, this area was alive with people. Technicians in lab coats conversed as
they carried various pieces of equipment and stacks of paperwork up and down
the tunnel. Some of them spoke to Taylor as they passed, and she responded
politely. Leahy was not surprised to see armed Marines stationed at intervals
along the tunnel.

Three stripes of
different colors ran in both directions along the tunnel’s floor. He had seen
this same type of color-coding in the gigantic Lockheed-Martin aircraft plant
near Atlanta, and knew its purpose was to keep people from becoming lost while
traversing the network of tunnels and hallways below the main floors. You just
followed the appropriate color stripe and it led you to your destination. The
tunnel was about twelve feet high and thirty feet wide, with a maze of pipes
and conduits along the walls and ceiling. It stretched away for about a hundred
yards in both directions before curving out of sight. A dozen or so smaller
corridors branched off at various intervals along its length. Directly across
from the elevator was an alcove where several golf carts were parked. They walked
over and climbed into one of them. Leahy took the passenger seat and they
started off with a jolt. Taylor steered the cart out into the tunnel and took
off at full speed. People ahead began scattering toward the walls.

Leahy gripped the
metal bar running along the back of the seat and held on. "I see these
people know your driving habits.”

She glanced at him
and grinned. “I love driving these things. I’m just not good at takeoffs. Anyway,
we want to get to the cafeteria before the elephant's gone don't we?"

"Damn the
torpedoes, full speed ahead!" he shouted, and they both laughed. He was
pleased to see that she had a good sense of humor.

The wind from
their passage caused her scarf to flutter back over her shoulder and stood the
hair up along her forehead. The grin on her face made her look like an excited
child at an amusement park rather than the scientist she really was. The golden
brooch gleamed as they passed beneath the overhead lights. She steered the cart
out of the main tunnel, made several turns, and finally stopped at a large
parking lot occupied by numerous other vehicles.

They disembarked
and went through a set of double doors into a dining room. It was no different
from any other cafeteria Leahy had seen. There was the standard serving line
with food displayed in steam pans behind a glass shield. Several men in white
T-shirts and hats were on duty behind the counter serving food to those in
line. The room had about fifty tables and was half-full of people eating and
talking. Music came over speakers in the ceiling, and the buzz of conversation
gave the place a friendly atmosphere.

He followed Taylor
to a turnstile at the serving line entrance and watched her insert her ID card
into a slot on top of a pedestal. Something inside clicked a few times and she
removed the card. He unclipped his card from his jacket and followed suit. After
they had gotten their food, they sat down at a table in one corner of the room.
With a police officer’s caution he positioned himself so he could see the
entire area
;
especially the doors. He gazed around at
the people for a few seconds then turned to his food. He had not realized how
hungry he was until he started eating.

"Not bad
elephant," he said over a mouthful of roast beef.

"Just goes to
show that all those jokes about military cooks don't mean a thing," Taylor
replied, taking a sip from a cup of black coffee.

They ate in
silence for a few minutes. During the lull in their conversation, Leahy studied
the other diners. There was about an equal number of men and women seated at
the tables. Most of them wore lab coats, but a few were dressed in green pants
and shirts similar to the type doctors and nurses wear in operating rooms. Some
of them had surgical caps with masks hanging loose around their necks. He and Taylor
were the only ones in the room wearing suits, and it made him feel a little
conspicuous.

"Do you have
a hospital here?" he asked her.

She gave him a
quizzical look, a forkful of food suspended halfway between her plate and
mouth. “A hospital?
No, just a small infirmary.
Why do
you ask?"

He glanced around
the room. "The surgical clothes."

“Oh, that. I’m so
used to all the uniforms and different rigs around here I hardly notice
anymore. But to answer your question, some of the labs contain sensitive equipment.
The temperature is maintained at an exact setting in a dust free environment. The
surgical clothes are to prevent contamination by human breath and skin. The
clothes they’re currently wearing will have to be changed before they go back
to work." She put the food into her mouth and continued eating.

The answer was so
obvious that it made him feel foolish for having asked it, but
his ignorance had been perpetuated by Taylor and other people
;
therefore, he could not be criticized for making inquiries. He checked his
watch again. As of now he had been kept in the dark for over twelve hours,
accepting everything on faith, and he was growing tired of it. He was about to
say so when two women sitting at a table near them caught his eye. One of them,
an attractive blonde, nodded and smiled. Taylor looked up just as he returned
the smile. She glanced at the other table, let out a small breath,
then
resumed her dinner. The blonde spoke briefly to her
companion, picked up her tray, and walked over to Leahy’s table.

"Hi,
Taylor," she said cheerfully. "Haven't seen you in a while. You must
be staying busy."

"Hello,
Gail." Taylor’s tone was stiffly polite, almost snippy.

The woman blessed
Leahy with a dazzling smile. "I don't believe I've met your friend."

Taylor put her
fork down and bit her lower lip. She looked the other woman straight in the
eye. “Matt Leahy, Gail Wilson. Gail is one of our systems analysts."

Gail balanced one
edge of the food tray on her hip and stuck out her hand. "Glad to meet
you, Matt. Are you new here or have they just been hiding you out?"

He rose halfway
from the table and started to answer, but Taylor cut him off. "Matt's not
directly connected with the facility, Gail," she said in a peevish voice. "He's
a VIP on temporary assignment from the NSA."

"The
NSA?" She raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips as though impressed.

"Only
temporarily," Leahy answered, resuming his seat. "Actually, I'm
......
"

"Here's Dr.
Durant," Taylor interrupted him again.

All three of them
looked toward the entrance. A tall, thin man with white hair had entered the
room and was speaking to two technicians who were just leaving. After they
departed he scanned the room, finally spotting Taylor. He waved and entered the
serving line.

"Well, I have
to run," Gail said. "See you later, Matt." Her smile could have
been used in
a toothpaste
commercial. She raised her
chin slightly and said, "Bye-bye, Taylor."

"Goodbye,
Gail," Taylor replied in a slightly sarcastic tone.

Gail's chin went
up a little higher as she turned away. Leahy watched her weave through the maze
of tables and slip the tray into a service window near the exit. She glanced
back at them and gave a little wave before going out. Taylor mumbled something
unintelligible under her breath and tossed her napkin onto the table.

"Did you say
something?" Leahy inquired, turning back to Taylor.

"No
..
.
well
, yes. I'm sorry, Matt. I
didn't mean to cut you short with Gail, but there are some things you need to
know before...well, before you get too acquainted with any of the people around
here. Gail doesn't have the proper security clearance to be privy to any
information about you. And she talks too much."

"At this
point she probably knows as much about why I'm here as I do. From the
conversation I take it you two aren't the best of friends."

"I wouldn't
choose her as my personal confessor, if that's what you mean. Besides, until
I'm told differently, you're my responsibility."

“Responsibility,
huh?” He used a hurt tone. “Now I’m disappointed. I thought you were
jealous."

She flushed and
gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Don’t get smart.” The retort made them both
laugh.

"Good
evening," said a pleasant voice. They looked up to see the physicist
standing beside their table. He took a seat and introduced himself to Leahy. “I’m
Dr. Richard Durant. I hope we haven't inconvenienced you beyond reason,
Lieutenant Leahy," he said in a friendly manner.

"No sir, not
at all." They both knew it was a polite lie.

"I understand
you had a little trouble on the way in," he said to Taylor.

"Yes, but it
was unavoidable." She gave him an abridged version of the incident in the
desert.

He turned to
Leahy. "Please accept my apologies, Mr. Leahy. That was unforgivable and
extremely dangerous. I've discussed it with Colonel Pope, head of our military
forces here, and he has assured me he will take corrective action."

"Thank you,
sir, but apologies aren't necessary. They were only doing their jobs. I've been
in worse situations."

Durant smiled and
nodded. "I'm sure you have, but we can't afford to place you in a position
of danger. You're very important to us."