The machine itself stood on a low platform in the center of the room behind a waist-high chrome railing. It was circular and sat on a low platform thirty feet in diameter. Hundreds of vertical rods five feet in length were arranged a few inches apart along the circumference of the platform. In the center was a massive shaft of black metal, eight feet tall. A ten-foot-wide metallic dome that seemed to have no visible means of support floated in the air above the shaft. The ensemble resembled a gigantic black and silver mushroom. Except for the rods, the entire platform was slowly rotating in a clockwise direction. The rods moved up and down in random order, synchronized in some way with the turning of the platform. At the time, the assembly made Matt think of a huge carousel without horses.
Durant had entered a computer code on a keyboard sitting on a nearby stand, and the black shaft began to sink into the floor, leaving the dome suspended in midair. The shaft was hollow, and as it receded, a transparent tubular vessel filled with boiling red liquid was exposed. A bright green stone the size of a grapefruit sat on top of the tube, pulsing with green light. In its reflection, human faces turned into shadowy haunted-house masks. Without being told, Matt knew that this was the extraterrestrial element they had named 'stellarite,' the power source of the time machine. The red tube began to rotate, revealing the opposite side of the stellarite. On that side the stone was dark and pitted, with tiny fractures lacing its surface: the result of human inflicted damage.
Matt, a former detective lieutenant with the Atlanta police department, had been summoned to Apache Point to aid in investigating alleged sabotage against the stellarite, a crime thought to have been committed by none other than his own brother, Edward. The insane act had the potential of stranding hundreds of time agents in various eras of history unless a new supply was located. Computer models indicated that the only other source came to Earth in 1250 BC embedded in a meteor that crashed in the Egyptian desert during the reign of Pharaoh Ramses II.
Worse than the sabotage, initial evidence indicated that Edward had murdered the members of an expedition sent back in time to recover the element and then vanished into the wilderness known as the Valley of the Kings. The case was brought to a successful conclusion through the efforts of the expedition led by Matt to find Edward and recover the stellarite. The fugitive had been captured, and Apache Point now possessed a large enough supply of the element to operate the machine indefinitely.
Afterwards, Matt was prepared to return to the police force; however, the NSA had quickly recognized his talents and persuaded him to remain at Apache Point as a full member of the organization. The change of employment had made a huge impact in his life, but the primary reason for his accepting the position was Taylor Griffin, the tall, beautiful, green-eyed NSA time agent who had become the love of his life.
Taylor had been the first person to meet him on his arrival at the Albuquerque airport, and had been his mentor while he had undergone indoctrination at Apache Point. During that time, they had grown closer and closer, their relationship evolving into a deep and abiding love bonded by mutual trust and respect. Taylor had restored the faith in people that he had lost by a devastating divorce several years earlier. Since that time he had remained reclusive, especially from women, living with his pain day-by-day. But Taylor had changed all that with a love that demonstrated itself not only through words but through actions and affection. Each time he touched her he felt warmth spread throughout his being, creating a powerful sense of belonging. Though they had been separated on occasion by work requirements, she was never far from his thoughts, just as she was at this moment. They were truly mated, and both knew it.
Dr. Durant, Director of Operations, interrupted his reverie as he entered the office. A smile lit Matt's face as he arose to greet the old scientist. "Good morning, sir," he said. "You're looking well." The comment was only by way of being polite, as Durant looked anything but well. In his late sixties, the slender, gray-haired physicist always looked like a person burdened by daily stress. He was a man of great conscience, and every incident that adversely affected the people who worked and lived at Apache Point lay across his shoulders like a pall. It was obvious to Matt that this meeting concerned one of those incidents.
The white lab coat he wore seemed to hang more loosely on his slight frame than usual. The scientist had worked all his life in positions of responsibility, many years of which had been spent in government labs. Numerous successes had been attributed to his resolute work ethic, demonstrated through tours of duty in government technological agencies such as NASA, Department of Defense, Department of Energy, and now Apache Point. He was one of the most respected physicists in the world, and Matt considered it a great honor to be associated with him.
Durant smiled broadly as he saw one of his favorite people. "Good morning, Matt. Please, sit down. I apologize for keeping you waiting." He glanced toward the kitchenette. "That coffee sure smells inviting."
While Matt walked over to the kitchenette and poured two cups of the steaming liquid, Durant went behind the desk and sat down. He opened the center drawer, removed a folder, and laid it in front of him. It was sealed with a red-and-white strip of tape marked SECRET. Matt returned with the coffee, placed one cup in front of the scientist, sat down in one of the leather chairs, crossed his legs, and waited. He had been through this ritual before. He watched as Durant pulled an old pipe from his coat pocket. He stared down at the folder and grimaced. A few seconds passed before he picked up the coffee and took a sip. He set the cup down and took a couple of pulls on the empty pipe. He rarely smoked it but always kept it with him like a security blanket. More seconds passed as he composed his thoughts. Finally, he let out a breath, looked up at Matt and shook his head.
"Matt, we've got a situation on our hands that I don't quite know how to handle. I'm sure you remember Michael DeLong?"
"Sure. I haven't seen Mike in quite a while, but I consider him a friend. In fact, Taylor and I have had a few lunches with him. Why do you ask?"
"Mike has been on assignment in 3,302 BC Ireland for some time and is not scheduled to report back for the next couple of months. It's one of our standard missions involving historical verification of mythical events, mapping terrain in specific locations and so forth. You know the routine; nothing unusual anticipated. However, something quite disturbing may have happened to him."
Matt sat very still, the coffee cup halfway to his lips. "Disturbing?"
"Yes. As you know, our pagers are equipped with an automatic return function that triggers if they are activated for transport but are not being held by the person to whom they are assigned. Moreover, the feature is designed to transport the pager back here to Apache Point, instead of just returning to modern times on the same spot as the transport location in the past."
Matt nodded. "Yes sir, I am aware of that. Unlike human transport, unaccompanied pagers are designed to return to the Apache Point receiving chamber when activated."
Durant tapped the folder a few times with the stem of his pipe. "This report is from our lab that deals with nuclear issues. It contains the results of their experiments with a device that none of us understands. In other words, we don't know exactly what it is, or what it was designed to do." He reached into the open desk drawer and removed a short tube, about an inch thick and twelve inches long. Holding it by one end between thumb and forefinger, he gazed at it for a few seconds then gently laid it on the desk.
The way he handled it made Matt think that it might explode if it were jarred or dropped. He leaned forward to get a better view but did not touch it. About five inches from one end was a ferrule two inches wide with grooves cut into its surface, apparently designed to be turned or rotated around the wand by the fingers or thumb. Some unusual marks that resembled cuneiform were inscribed along the length of the device. One end was capped off, while the other was fitted with a faceted, violet-colored lens made of something that resembled crystal.
He glanced at Durant. "It looks like some kind of
wand. Where did it come from?"
"Ten days ago it appeared in the Chronocom receiving chamber attached to DeLong's utility belt. His pager came back with it. But that's not the worst problem. There was a good deal of blood on it that our forensics lab has identified as human. There were also some fingerprints, two of which are DeLong's, but the others haven’t been classified as yet. The problem is that they don't appear to be human." He stuck the pipe in his mouth and leaned back, staring at the device.
Matt looked puzzled. "If not human, what then? Ape maybe?"
"No." The scientist shook his head and leaned forward again. "They don't belong to any known species of primate."
Matt looked back at the tube, which appeared to be clean. Apparently the lab had removed the bloodstains. He nodded and looked at Durant. "So that leaves us with three problems: What happened to DeLong, what is this device, and where did the utility belt and pager transport from."
"Exactly. You have a way of going straight to the heart of the issue. That's why I picked you to look into the matter. However, you know the complications associated with the last problem on your list. It's unlikely that the location from which DeLong transported into the past is the same as the one from which this was received." He touched the tube with a fingertip. "They could be many miles apart."
Durant was referring to the way in which the time transporter worked. Due to the physics associated with the stellarite power source, all transports into the past had to take place in the present, at the exact location where the transported person or object expected to arrive in the past. If the location were in Ireland, DeLong would be required to be in Ireland, standing on the spot where he would materialize in 3,302 BC, or any other applicable date. One of three satellites would receive a power beam from the huge Apache Point antenna situated aboveground then redirect it to whatever coordinates had been entered into the computers. When the beam struck the location at which the agent was standing, he or she would be transported into the same location in the past. Since a significant flash of green light always accompanied the procedure, the usual rule was to have all transports occur as far away from populated sites as possible. For that reason, most of them took place in rural areas during the small hours of the morning. In DeLong's case, that would have been in County Mayo.
"Do we know the exact spot from where he transported?"
"Yes. One of our people accompanied him and his equipment to the location. After you select your team members, and everyone completes pre-transport training, he'll take you to that place." He tapped the pipe stem on the desk a few times, as though considering what to say next. After a few seconds he continued in a quiet voice. "You know, Matt, there's a good possibility that DeLong may be dead."
"It occurred to me."
Durant nodded. "Well, then, there's something else you should know." He picked up the wand. "This could not have been manufactured by anyone of that time period. In fact, it could not have been made by anyone of this time period. You see, it operates on principles unknown to anyone on Earth. In addition, our engineers are unable to identify the metal it's made of. They say it's harder than our best stainless steel and has an atomic structure they can't define."
Matt looked puzzled. He felt mildly apprehensive. "Are you referring to extraterrestrial composition?"
Durant blew out a breath. "I don't know, but that's a distinct possibility, and one that makes this expedition unique. Just be aware that you may be dealing with a completely unknown element, not just primitives as is the usual case." Behind him, on the star map, Matt saw a comet edge its way into view from the left side of the screen. Distant suns in the background lit its icy tail in a pale glow.
The physicist broke the security tape on the folder and opened it. After staring at the top sheet for a few seconds, he removed it and handed it to Matt. "That's what we could make out from a photo taken with DeLong's camera. It was inside one of the pockets of the utility belt."
Matt studied the photograph for a long moment. "It's badly out of focus, but it looks like some sort of half-spheres sitting on a purple table. Almost like golf balls cut in half. It's impossible to put their size into perspective without a known scale."
"I agree with that analysis, but it must have some significance. If whatever it is can be located, it might even be connected with the source of the wand."
Matt looked at the strange image again. "Are there any more photos? Surely he would have taken more than this."
"No. There were probably others, but the lab was only successful in downloading that one. The camera was damaged by something that destroyed part of the chip where the photos were recorded. We don't know what caused it, but there was a one-inch-wide, half-moon hole cut in one corner of the camera body. The utility belt had a matching hole in the pocket that contained the camera. Whatever did it completely destroyed the material from which the belt and camera are made."
"May I have a closer look at the wand?" He held out his hand.
"Yes, but be careful not to turn the ring or press the button in front of it." He handed it to Matt.
Matt examined it closely, and for the first time noticed the tiny button that the scientist referred to. "Is this some kind of trigger?" He pointed to the button.
"It is. The ring may or may not be what regulates the strength of the beam it emits. Our engineers were reluctant to attempt any disassembly here at the facility because of what happened in the lab."
The statement scared Matt just a little. "The beam? What happened?"
"They believe it emits a stream of antimatter. When they pressed the button, it made a small noise and burned a two-inch hole through the lab wall and into the solid rock beyond. They still don't know how far into the rock the hole goes. We were lucky that it was pointed in that direction or someone may have been killed or seriously injured."
Matt continued his inspection. "I've heard of antimatter, but I confess I don't know what it is."
"Think of it just as the name implies. When that wand shot a hole through the wall, the beam completely destroyed the subatomic structure of the wall and the rock beyond, both being composed of ordinary matter. As it did that, a tremendous amount of energy was released, destroying the antimatter beam in the process. The net effect is that matter and antimatter destroy each other. That's the best explanation I can give you. In the wrong hands, it could potentially wipe out a city block as easily as sweeping a flashlight beam across it."
Matt and Durant locked eyes for a few seconds. "Are we thinking the same thing?" Matt asked in a quiet voice.
Durant nodded and leaned back in his chair. "I think so. That wand," he pointed to it, "or one like it, destroyed DeLong's camera. And if he was wearing the utility belt at the time, it must surely have put a hole in him, too."
Having worn one many times, Matt was familiar with the construction of the belt and the locations of its pockets. "Which pocket was the camera in?"
"Third from the right."
Matt nodded. "Then the beam would have cut a hole in his right side." He thought for a couple of seconds then said, "That explains the blood. The question is how badly was he hit? It's possible that he may still be alive, depending on the position of the belt around his waist." He placed the wand back on the desk. "What are those symbols etched into the barrel?"
"Another unknown. We've photographed them for study by our linguists, but so far they haven't been able to decipher them." He paused for a few seconds. "I assume you will want Taylor as one of your team members?"
"Without a doubt. That is, if you don't have any objections." His eyes met Durant's.
"None whatsoever," the scientist responded. "In fact, I was going to recommend it. As one our best philologists, perhaps she can make some sense out of the symbols. She'll be invaluable from a language standpoint if you encounter something not native to Earth. However, it will be a few days before she returns from her vacation. As you know, she's visiting her parents in Texas."
Matt grinned and shook his head. "
Don't count on it. I'll telephone her tonight, and if I know my girl, she'll be back here tomorrow."
Durant chuckled. "I have no doubt you're correct. But you will still need to select one more team member. Do you have any ideas?"
"The first person that comes to mind is Jacob Donovan. We've worked together on a couple of assignments. He's tough and resourceful, has the experience and doesn't know how to say quit. His parents are from Ireland, and they all go back there often to visit relatives. He probably knows a good deal about the terrain. I'm aware that landscapes change over a five thousand year period, but there will probably be similarities. I think this mission calls for someone with those qualities. Besides that, he and Taylor get along well."
"I quite agree. An excellent choice." He picked up the wand and walked over to a painting of a desert sunset hanging on the wall. The painting was hinged on one side. He pulled it open, revealing an electronic combination safe. He punched in the code, opened it and placed the wand inside. "After you brief Taylor, I'd like her to take a look at the characters on this thing." He closed the safe. "You and Donovan may as well get started with wardrobe and language assimilation while you're waiting. Taylor is a quick study with languages, so it won't take her as long to learn it."
"Okay. I'll contact Jake and Taylor right away." He nodded to Durant and left.
Back in his quarters, Matt poured himself a light drink of Canadian whiskey laced with 7-UP and sat down in his favorite chair. The civilian living quarters at Apache Point consisted of seven hundred individual apartments, each with living room, bedroom, kitchenette, and bath. The complex was shaped like a huge square, with a swimming pool in the atrium. Tastefully landscaped with Bermuda grass lawns, date palms, and myriad varieties of shrubs along the buildings and sidewalks, the pleasing design presented a calm, restful place to live. Anywhere from six to seven hundred employees were billeted here at any given time. A tour of duty for most of those who worked at Apache Point was six months, with no outside trips permitted except in emergencies, and then only by permission of the director of operations or chief of security, a Marine major. However, approximately ten percent of the total civilian work force were 'field' operatives and had permanent passes to and from the facility at their individual discretion. Matt's security classification was included in that group.
Island of the Star Lords Page 2
