Close Up the Sky

by James L. Ferrell

  "That’s the question that brings us to the crux of the matter. We believe there is a connection between our agent's disappearance and what happened to the Chronocom. If we solve one, we solve the other."

  "Sounds reasonable,” Leahy agreed.

  "The most important thing is locating a new supply of stellarite,” Durant continued. “Without it, the Chronocom will cease to function. The agents I told you about will be trapped in time and some very important projects will be halted. We only have enough power left to activate the transporter a few more times. After that, the stellarite will have completely transformed itself into the inert isotope and will become useless. We want you to find that missing man and a new supply of stellarite." He sat down on the corner of the desk and waited for a response.

  It was Leahy’s turn to make someone wait. He was terrified, but kept a blank face. He got up and walked over to the grandfather clock while he collected his thoughts. Without really seeing it, he watched the pendulum make a few strokes. The sixth sense he had acquired from being in dangerous situations over the years urged him to be cautious. Durant insisted that he had special qualifications for this job and that bothered him. For some reason they expected something from him that an entire team of FBI agents could not provide. The revelation of a time transporter, or Chronocom as they called it, was explosive; but he suspected the fuse was burning on an even larger bomb. Durant's reference to some very important projects had not escaped him.

  "I'll need details," he finally said, turning to face them. "With nothing left out." The emphasis was intended as a veiled threat.

  Durant nodded agreement. He went behind the desk, opened a drawer, and took out a manila folder. "This is the dossier on the missing man.” He laid the folder on the desk without opening it. "Taylor will explain some of the documents later, but first some background information." He paused momentarily as though organizing his thoughts, then continued. "The initial supply of stellarite was discovered in the company of some other ores we believe may have been part of a meteorite. In all likelihood it was a piece of some unidentified celestial body that exploded eons ago and traveled to Earth embedded in a meteor. If that's the case, it's reasonable to assume that other meteors of similar origin followed the same trajectory and struck Earth at about the same time, but in different locations because of the planet’s rotation. That makes ordinary geological exploration impractical, if not impossible. But the saving grace is that the substance emits an unusual type of radiation. Because of that, we were able to use a specially designed satellite to locate what we believe is another source."

  He walked over to the coffee pot and poured himself another cup before continuing. He raised the cup in gesture. "Another bad habit," he said to Matt.

  "Yes sir, I suffer from the same habit. That and donuts." His attempt at police humor was lost on the old man, but it earned a crooked look from Taylor.

  "Anyway, about two months ago," Durant went on, "shortly after the damage to our current supply was discovered, our satellite picked up some faint traces of the substance in North Africa. We immediately sent a geological team to explore the area, but all they found were fragments, much too small for our purposes. However, expert examination of the site determined that the fragments came from a larger mass that had broken apart. Stellarite is extremely brittle, so it's possible that it broke apart on impact; but we think someone digging around in the crater may have fractured it. Not only that, but if a larger mass did exist, they carried it away."

  "What makes you think that?" Leahy asked.

  "In appearance, stellarite resembles a murky emerald and emits a faint greenish glow,” Durant replied. “If any of the fragments happened to be visible after impact it would be easy for someone to see them, especially at night. Apparently that did happen because the geologists found evidence to substantiate it."

  "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 f
orever 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.

  Chapter 6

  Matt 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 befo
re 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.

  Other photographs were not so desolate. In one, taken from a high place, rolling green hills covered with tall grass stretched away to infinity. In the foreground, a herd of immense elephantine creatures stood grazing on the vegetation. Matt recognized them as wooly mammoths, a species extinct for twenty thousand years. Off to one side, and slightly closer than the others, a solitary animal stood staring in the direction of the camera, its trunk raised high above the massive head, probing the air for dangerous scents.