Close Up the Sky (44 page)

They eased up
behind Williams and peered into the fissure. Something was standing there, but
the brightness outside made it hard to see into the gloom. Then simultaneous
recognition dawned on both of them. Taylor gave a little gasp and squeezed Matt's
arm. Williams began to shift very slowly off to one side. As he moved, the form
inside the crevice stepped into the light to challenge him. It was Edward
Leahy, but he looked more beast than man. His hair was long and matted with
dirt. A patchy beard crusted with something that resembled dried blood sprouted
from his face, and his lips were pulled back in an insane grin. One front tooth
was missing; the others were yellow from so long without care. Saliva dripped
from his mouth, and the bright eyes of a maniac glared at them from dark
sockets. His fingernails were long and broken, and he held his fingers curved
like claws. But worst of all was the bloody four-inch gash that ran along the
left side of his skull. Flies swarmed around it looking for flesh to bite, but
he took no notice of them. His attention was focused on Williams, who had
managed to increase the distance between them by a few feet. He had drawn his
pistol and was holding it down by his side, not threatening, but ready. Edward
began to move toward him, fingers flexing. He emitted a hiss that sounded like
air escaping from a punctured tire. Matt was thankful to see that his utility
belt was missing and that he had no weapon.

Just then
Summerhour came bursting out of the boulders behind them. He slid to a stop at
the sight of the apparition. Edward whirled to meet the new threat, and for the
first time saw Matt and Taylor. He crouched and remained motionless for a long
moment, glaring at them. His lips twitched and his eyes narrowed as though
trying to see through darkness. Then his eyes opened wide and he extended an
arm toward them. As he straightened, the snarl that had been on his lips fell
away. His features began to change into a more human appearance.

"Mah...Mah
...,
" he muttered, but could not form the word.

"Rocks,"
Matt said to him, his voice gentle. He took a step toward his brother.

Edward's head
began to rock from side to side, and his mouth began to work as though he was
attempting to speak. Reaching out with his arms, he began staggering toward
them. Then from out of nowhere, Williams came flying through the air feet first
and slammed into Edward's side. The impact sent him reeling and he sprawled on
his back. His skull hit the ground with a sickening thud. He screamed in pain
and grabbed his head with both hands. Blood from the reopened wound trickled
through the fingers of his left hand.

Taylor ran to him
and dropped to her knees beside him. She put her arm beneath his head and
cradled him against her breast. His eyes opened and he looked up at her. "Telr,"
he gasped in a pitiful whisper.

Matt had been
shocked into immobility by what Williams had done. Now he whirled on the
Marine. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he screamed.

Williams was
looking at Edward, his face expressionless. He glanced at Matt and shrugged. "I
thought he was going to attack you. I didn't know what else to do. Sorry.”

If looks could
have killed, Williams would have died at that moment. Matt blew out a breath
and went to his brother.

Summerhour came up
and stooped beside them. "My God," he muttered when he saw the head
wound. "No wonder he's out of his mind. What do you think, Taylor? How bad
is it?"

"Bad." She
shucked off her pack and rummaged through it. She took out a first aid kit and
removed a compression bandage. "Give me yours, too," she told
Summerhour. "It'll take more than one to cover this."

"Sure,"
he responded. He took off the pack and gave her the kit. Then he saw Williams
walking toward the crevice where Edward had been concealed. "Where's he
going?" he asked no one in particular.

Matt glanced up
and saw where Williams was headed. He looked back down at his brother. "You're
going to be okay, Rocks,” he said in a soothing voice. “We won't let anything
else happen to you, I promise."

Edward's eyes were
closed, and he made no sound as Taylor cleaned the wound and applied the
bandages. "This should stop the bleeding, but he needs more help than we
can give him here," she said.

Matt saw
Summerhour following Williams. "Watch yourself," he said to Taylor. "I'll
be back."

She saw the other
men heading for the rocks. Her eyes met Matt’s for a second and she nodded.

Matt got to his
feet and went after them. The other men had reached the rocks and were peering
into the dark passageway. As he walked up behind them, Williams stepped aside
so he could see. Lying on the ground a few feet inside, emitting a cool green
glow, was a chunk of stellarite the size of a soccer ball. He felt his heart
quicken. The element he had seen in the lab at Apache Point had been pitted and
darkened by what everyone believed was sabotage, but this magnificent sphere
was unblemished and radiated throbbing light like the beating of an emerald
heart.

"Holy Mother
of God," he heard Summerhour say under his breath. "Look at
that!" He edged inside the crack and knelt beside it. His face took on a
greenish hue as he bent over the star-stone. "No wonder Ramses thought it
was the eye of a god." A filthy piece of white cloth lay on the ground
nearby. He reached over and picked it up. "Edward must have had it wrapped
in this," he speculated. He draped it over the Eye of Amen and bundled it
tightly, but the glow was visible even through the cloth.

Matt glanced over
his shoulder to speak to Williams, but the Marine had walked off and was standing
a hundred feet away on the crest of the hill. He was staring at something down
the opposite slope.

Matt went over and
stood beside him. He looked out at the water and his mouth fell open.

Five U.S. Navy
ships rode at anchor on the sapphire sea. Four huge transports were anchored
side-by-side near the eastern shore where one of the river branches spilled
into the ocean. On the western side, near the bottom of the hill, a sleek
destroyer rode the gentle swells at the end of her anchor line. A hundred yards
beyond her, the black coning tower and upper decks of a submarine jutted out of
the water. A number of prefab buildings dotted the shore, along with trucks,
bulldozers, and stacks of miscellaneous pipes and equipment. People that looked
as small as ants moved about the shore carrying out various tasks.

"Surprised?"
Williams asked.

"No," he
shook his head, “not really. Just more than I expected."

"When did you
figure it out?"

"Before we
left Apache Point. Edward left me a message, so to speak."

Williams looked
puzzled. "A message?"

Matt did not
answer. "Let's go rejoin the others," he said. "I think it's
time for explanations."

They turned and
walked back to where Taylor was still nursing Edward. Summerhour was on his
knees beside them, busily stuffing the stellarite into his pack. Matt knelt
beside his brother. He reached out and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. Edward
swallowed but did not open his eyes.

"When I think
of what he must have suffered to find that chunk of rock and bring it
here," Matt said, his voice filled with emotion.

"I think
he'll be okay," Taylor offered. She smoothed a few strands of hair away
from the wound. "But he needs medical help. We've got to activate the
pagers and get him to a hospital."

"I don't
think that'll be necessary," Matt responded. "Help's a lot closer
than you imagine."

She looked
puzzled. "What...?"

"There are
some American Navy ships anchored on the other side of the hill. That's why
Edward was heading for this place. He must have been trying to reach them to get
help."

"Navy
ships?" she exclaimed. "What are you talking about? How could
......
"

"I think Mike
can tell us," he answered. He gave Summerhour a hard look.

Summerhour stood,
slung the pack over his shoulder, and ran his arms through the straps. "Not
now," he said. "This isn't the time. We've got to get this down to
the base." He started toward the crest, but Williams stepped in front of
him and barred his way.

"I don't
think I can let you do that, Mike," he said quietly. He pointed his pistol
directly at Summerhour's face.

Matt and Taylor both
stood up at the same time.

Williams waved the
gun at them as he stepped back a few feet. “Don’t try anything foolish. If I
have to I can drop all three of you before you can clear your holsters."

Matt took a step
away from Taylor.

"Don't do it,
Matt," Williams warned. "I cut my teeth on one of these," he
gave the pistol a little wave. "The L-suit won't protect you. I can hit
you in the face without any problem. Now, the three of you unbuckle your belts
and toss the weapons away."

"Are you out
of your mind?" Summerhour said in disbelief. "What the hell do you
think you're doing? You'll go to the brig for twenty years for this!"

"I don't
think so. I said take off those guns and throw them away. Now!"

They did. As
though on cue, a hot breeze blew across the hilltop. In spite of its warmth, it
carried the chill of death.

"You want to
tell us why?" Matt asked.

"I'm
disappointed," Williams replied with a low laugh. "All this time I
was afraid you'd figure it out before I was ready."

"Maybe I did,
but I'd rather hear it first-hand from you. You can start by telling us who you
really are."

Summerhour and
Taylor exchanged glances. It was obvious that neither of them knew what was
going on with Williams.

"My name
isn't important. What's important is the stellarite. Throw it over here,
Mike."

Summerhour slipped
off the pack and tossed it to the ground in Williams's direction. It landed
about five feet short of him.

Taylor was the
only one still completely in the dark. "Chuck, why are you doing
this?"

He gave her a
sardonic frown and shook his head in disbelief. "Taylor, you almost make
me believe that you don’t know."

"She knows
nothing about it," Matt answered for her. "Why don't we talk about
this, Chuck, or whoever you
are.
There are always
options. We can work something out. I give you my word."

"I want to
know what's going on!" Taylor said between clenched teeth. "Why are
you holding that gun on us?"

"Because I have to stop
you, Taylor. I can’t allow
your
country to continue stealing
my
country's
natural resources."

She looked
perplexed. “What do you mean, stealing your natural resources? What are you
talking about?” She shook her head, exasperated.

Williams looked
surprised. “You mean you really don’t know about Babylon Station?” he asked,
eyebrows
raised
. “Matt should have told you about that
by now.”

“Matt’s not
pointing a gun at me,
you
are," she said, her voice hard. "So
why don’t you explain.”

“It’s really quite
simple. Babylon Station is a code name for an operation that the United States
and some of the other western countries are conducting in this time period. You’re
doing here what you could never do in the twenty-first century. You couldn’t
make us comply with your wishes by force, bribery, or politics, so you decided
to take what you wanted by stealth.” He paused and glared at them. The jovial
Williams persona was gone. The deadly serious man holding them at gunpoint was
someone they had never seen before.

“Taking
what
by stealth?” Taylor demanded.

“Oil.”

I
t was one of the most titanic statements ever made, but on
this desolate hilltop, with the burning sun overhead, thirty-five hundred years
from home, it struck Taylor as comical. She clapped her hand over her mouth and
giggled.

"Stealing
oil? You’re out of your mind!" she managed to choke out. "Edward's
the one with the head injury, not you!"

"He's telling
the truth," Matt said, his voice somber. "Those ships out in the bay
are supply vessels. They carry the equipment and materials to build holding
tanks, pumps, pipelines, shelters, and everything else required to work an oil
field. There's also a warship anchored with them. I suspect it supplies the
muscle necessary to make sure that none of the locals interfere with the
operation. It, or one like it, is probably responsible for knocking out Ramses's
army when they tried to march here. One concussion missile should do it, I
would think. They call this place Babylon Station because it's close to that
ancient city. And unless I miss my guess, it's been in operation for a long
time now."

"Shut
up!" Summerhour screamed. "You don't know what you're doing!"

"I think I
do. But it doesn't matter. Our friend here is going to kill us anyway. Right,
Chuck?"

Williams let out
an audible breath and shook his head. "It might surprise you Matt, but I’m
not getting any pleasure out of this. None of it would have been necessary if
your brother had been killed instead of just wounded. You see, our man thought
he was dead and failed to see him escape into the desert while he was burying
the others. If that hadn’t happened, none of you, including me, would be here
right now.” He sounded genuinely sorry.

"What does it
matter now? You’ve got the stellarite. Let us go," Matt replied.

"You know I
can't do that."

"Just how do
you plan on getting out of here after you kill us?” Summerhour asked in a
sullen voice.

"You still
don’t understand, do you?” Williams answered. "The main purpose of this
entire affair is not just to eliminate
you
,
it’s to keep the stellarite from being returned to Apache Point. I understand
from…,"
he caught himself before he said the name. "Well
anyway, I understand that there's no more stellarite anywhere on Earth. That
means Babylon Station stops right here, right now. Without the stellarite it
can’t go on." He gazed at the three of them for a long moment,
then
a bland smile curled his lips. "As far as anyone
going back to the world we left behind, forget it. The four of you will stay on
this hill forever."