Close Up the Sky (21 page)

"A little sore," Williams answered as he shook Summerhour's
hand. "But you're right about the miracle." He tugged at the material
of the jumpsuit.

Summerhour nodded. "Yes, they've saved many of us at one time or
another. We lost some good people before they were developed."

Their conversation was interrupted when Dr. Kasdan knocked and entered
the room. “Hello everyone,” he said in a jovial tone. “Sorry I’m running
behind.” He looked disheveled, as though he had been working all night. His
eyes were red-rimmed and he had not shaved.

"You look tired, John," Durant said. "Are you feeling
alright?"

"Just worked a little late last night. Sorry about the appearance.” He
rubbed his palms down the front of his lab coat. "Is there any
coffee?" He went over the kitchenette, saw that the pot was cold, and went
about making some.

Leahy ignored Kasdan's interruption by directing a question at
Summerhour. "According to these files, you and Edward worked together on a
few projects. You have any ideas about what happened to him?"

Summerhour shook his head. "I've gone through everything I can
remember about those expeditions a hundred times. There's just nothing there to
indicate anything like this would happen. Edward was one of our best agents. In
fact, if it weren't for him, none of this would even be here." He waved
his arm around the room in a sweeping gesture. "It doesn't make
sense."

“The last time you saw him did he seem disturbed about anything?” Leahy
asked.

“If you mean disturbed about his work, he got exasperated sometimes but
that’s not unusual. We all do. You’d have to have field experience to know how
difficult some of these situations can be.”

“Was there any particular situation that seemed worse than the others?” He
was not exactly sure what he was fishing for; just hoping Summerhour might say
something that would make sense out of the whole affair.

Summerhour thought the question over then shook his head. “No. Like I
said, there’s nothing there.”

“Could he have been sick? Maybe out of his head or something?”

“Edward sick? Hell no! He was strong as an ox. Besides, we’re all
vaccinated against the known illnesses. Our medical research department sees to
that. But even if we missed something his team would have seen it coming and
taken proper measures. Besides, the greatest danger of disease is that we’ll
transmit
some modern virus rather than
get one. That possibility is a good deal more likely than what you’re asking.”

“It was just a thought,” Leahy replied absently. “I’m just trying to
cover the possibilities.”

“I know,” Summerhour said. He squeezed his lips into a thin line. A
muscle in his jaw twitched. “I didn’t find anything at the scene of the murders
that might help, either,” he said.

Leahy stiffened visibly, his attention riveted on the other man. So he
was the investigator Durant had mentioned! He had been about to ask that very
thing when Summerhour volunteered the information himself. “You were at the
scene?” He blurted out before he could get his surprise under control.

“Yes,” Summerhour responded. His eyes darted at the other three people
then back to Leahy. “Unfortunately, that job fell to me as chief field agent.”

Leahy cast a quick glance at Taylor. She was staring at Summerhour,
waiting for him to continue, but he remained silent. “Dr. Durant says you think
the expedition members were shot,” he prompted. “Could you have been mistaken?”

“The bodies were badly decomposed,” Summerhour answered. “But I don’t
think there’s any doubt about it. They all had entry wounds in the foreheads
and exit wounds at the back of the skull. Only bullets do that kind of damage. I
also found some expended shell casings scattered about.”

“That’s a good start. Did you collect them?”

Summerhour shrugged and shook his head. “No, I didn’t think it was
important.”

Leahy blew out a breath and stood up. “We could have matched them back to
the weapon that fired them. And there might also have been some fingerprints on
them from the person who loaded them into the magazine.” He turned his back to
them and stared quietly at the vibrant Milky Way scene on the wall. “I
understand they still had their weapons on them,” he said.

“They did.”

“There was no evidence that they tried to defend themselves? Had any of
the weapons been fired?”

“Not that I could tell. Of course they could have been killed in their
sleep, but that’s unlikely. It’s standard procedure to post a sentry. It looked
more like…” he trailed off, reluctant to say the obvious.

“Like it was somebody they knew and trusted,” Leahy continued for him. “Somebody
they weren’t expecting it from.” He turned to face them. “Like Edward.”

Kasdan came back and took a seat. "Coffee's ready if anyone wants
some."

They ignored him.

“Matt, I’m not pointing the finger at anyone,” Summerhour said
defensively. “But the fact is, there were only the four of them on the
expedition. Edward may be your brother, but he was also my friend. If you can
think of another explanation I’ll be the first one to latch onto it. If not,
we’ll have to go on what we have.”

Leahy sat down behind the desk and clasped his hands in front of him. “Alright,”
he said. He glanced at each of them in turn. “Let’s go over the facts as we
know them. For the sake of argument, we’ll assume that whoever killed the
agents is also mixed up in the Chronocom sabotage. Is that reasonable?”

They nodded agreement.

“Dr. Durant, where was Edward when the sabotage occurred?”

Durant took the pipe out of his mouth and let out an audible breath. “He
was here. He worked late in the geology lab that night.
But……”

“Okay, that puts him near the scene. Were there any guards on the Chronocom?”

“Not on the device itself.
Level 10 can only be reached
by a special elevator
. Two Marines are stationed there at all times.”

“Do they remember Edward going to level 10 that night?”

“That’s just the problem, Matt,” Taylor put in. “They say nobody used the
elevator that night.”

Leahy was momentarily speechless. Her answer did more than just puzzle
him; it disrupted his whole line of questioning. He leaned back in his chair
and stared at her for a few seconds. He shook his head. “You’ve lost me.”

“We know from the computer readouts that the damage took place over a
four minute period starting at 7:34 P.M.” Durant explained. “The two guards
both swear that nobody was on level 10. Their log sheets bear them out. Everybody
who signed in also signed out. The Chronocom labs were completely deserted.”

Leahy picked up a pencil from the desk and twirled it around in his
fingers while he digested the information. Something was seriously wrong with
the whole picture. Physical damage had been inflicted on the machine, but no
one was present at the time it had occurred. The statement made no sense. “I’d
like to take a look at the area if possible,” he said.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Durant replied. He raised his eyebrows and
cast a sideways glance at Williams. “Let’s all go.”

“I’ll have to beg off,” Kasdan said. “I have some
important work to get done before the end of the day." He returned his
coffee cup to the kitchenette and walked to the door. He opened it, then turned
and spoke to Leahy. "Good luck, Matt. I hope everything works out." He
nodded to Williams and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

When they reached the guard station that controlled access to the
Chronocom they each went through the same computer scan as required for access
to the main research building. Williams was last, but when he placed his palm
against the screen the panel lit up with UNIDENTIFIED SCAN and a loud buzz
sounded from a hidden speaker. The two guards immediately stepped in front of
the elevator doors, their postures challenging. The others had already entered
the elevator, but Durant stepped back out.

“It’s okay, men,” he assured them. “I forgot Captain Williams hasn’t been
cleared for this level; however, I can vouch for him.”

The Marines relaxed a little, but they continued to block the doors. “I’m
sorry, sir,” said one of them with corporal stripes, “but no one can be
admitted without computer recognition.”

Durant nodded and tried a different tact. “You know who I am, Corporal,”
his voice was stern. “This is an emergency situation. On my authority, please
stand aside and let Captain Williams enter the elevator.”

The corporal shook his head and remained stationary. “Sir, you know
authorization can only be issued by SecCom.” He paused and cast a dubious
glance at Williams. “Would you like me to call the duty officer?”

“That won’t be necessary, Corporal. You’re exactly right.” He took
Williams by the arm and they walked a couple of steps away from the elevator. “Would
you mind waiting here for us, Chuck? We’ll only be a few minutes.”

“No problem, sir,” Williams answered. He glanced at the Marines. “It’s
good that they followed their orders. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Durant stepped back into the elevator and pushed the down button. When
the doors closed he turned to Leahy. “I hated to give that demonstration at Captain
Williams’s expense, but I wanted you to see that there’s no way an unauthorized
person can gain entrance to this level.”

Leahy nodded without comment. It was a clever move on Durant’s part. His
stomach tingled as the elevator descended. When it stopped the doors opened to
reveal a large, softly lighted rectangular room. About twenty feet directly
ahead was a glass wall that reached from floor to ceiling.
Electronic
equipment of all descriptions, including a number of mainframe computers, sat
behind the glass.
The low ceiling, painted a dazzling white, was thickly
lined with conduits and pipes of all sizes. Tiny colored lights blinked
intermittently on hundreds of instruments as technicians in white lab coats
moved among them, tending to their needs. The
scene made
Leahy think
of what the bridge of an imaginary starship might look like.

They followed Durant through a pair of glass doors leading into the
computer room. An attendant working at one of the terminals stood up and
acknowledged them as they entered.

“Open the Chronocom entrance for us please, Harry.” Durant said to the
man.

The technician sat back down and began typing on a keyboard. When he
finished, a soft tone sounded at one end of the room. Two black metal doors set
in a solid wall at that location slid apart, revealing a small chamber beyond. At
Durant's instruction they crossed the room and entered the chamber. When they
were all inside, the doors closed automatically.

Leahy felt a gentle wash of cool air coming from the floor and ceiling. It
flowed over them for a few seconds before being evacuated through registers in
each wall. He gave Durant a questioning look.

“Dust particles from our clothing and hair are being removed,” he
explained.

When the evacuation process was complete, another set of doors opposite
the entranceway slid smoothly apart. Leahy, who had been standing nearest the
doors, was the first to step through. The others filed in and stood beside him.
He was already impressed with the level of technology at Apache Point, but he was
not prepared for what he now saw. It was almost beyond imagination.

The room was circular, at least a hundred feet in diameter, with a floor
that looked like polished black marble. The ceiling was also black, but of a
dull texture. Instead of an ordinary wall, the entire perimeter of the room was
lined from floor to ceiling with alternating panels of green and white material,
each about four feet wide and twelve feet high. The panels glowed in the soft
light and seemed to pulse with a gentle throbbing sound. Behind a waist high
railing, directly in the center of the room, was the Chronocom.

Like the room, it was circular and sat on a low dais thirty feet wide. Sticking
up along the rim of the dais were hundreds of vertical rods about five feet in
length, spaced a few inches apart. In the center, a massive shaft of black
metal rose almost to the bottom of a glittering silver dome about ten feet
wide. The dome had no visible means of support, appearing to hang in midair
above the shaft. The structure gave the impression of a monstrous black and
silver mushroom. Except for the rods, the entire structure was slowly rotating
in a clockwise direction. The rods themselves moved up and down in random
order, apparently synchronized in some way with the moving dais and dome. It
made Leahy
think
of a fantastic carousel with the
horses missing from their poles.

They followed Durant to a horseshoe shaped console positioned just
outside the railing. In the center was a monitor showing the computer room
through which they had just passed. Dozens of colored buttons and digital
readouts were scattered across the surface of the console. A gooseneck
microphone protruded just to the left of the monitor. The physicist stepped up
to the mike and pressed one of the buttons.

“I’m going to lower the shield, Harry,” he said into the mike. “Will you
please give me the code?”

Leahy moved up to stand behind Durant and looked over his shoulder at the
monitor. He watched the technician who had opened the doors for them begin
punching out data on his keyboard. He consulted his monitor for a few seconds
then turned and faced the camera.

“Code ready, sir.” His voice came over an invisible speaker.

“Transmit,” Durant ordered.

A digital readout above a numbered keypad on the console lit up with the
numerals 8377. They watched as he punched in the code. There was a soft hum and
the black shaft began to descend into the dais, leaving the dome suspended in
place. As it receded Leahy saw that it was hollow, with a large transparent
tube filled with boiling red liquid in its center. After it had dropped about
four feet into the floor, the shaft stopped and the bubbling tube itself began
to descend into the base of the dais. As it dropped, a faint green glow began
to illuminate the floor of the dais. The source of the light soon became
apparent, for mounted atop the tube like a huge glowing emerald was the
stellarite itself. It was roughly spherical, about eight inches in diameter.