Four robotic arms appeared. They locked onto the case and lifted it out of the mud.
We heard a hatch open. Moments later, it closed. “Retrieval completed, Kira,” Morley said.
Audree smiled at Alex. “Let’s go topside.”
We had to wait until we were on the surface to get at the case. The lid was cracked, and the box had filled with water. “Probably happened when it hit the surface,” Kira said.
Alex and Bailey turned it on its side and dumped the water out of it. Then Alex found a catch, released it, and removed the lid. My angle wouldn’t let me see, but I heard him grunt. He reached in, pulled out some blanket that had been used for packing. And then removed a brick. “There are more in here if anybody’s interested.”
NINE
Time will reveal whatever is hidden, and it will hide and bury whatever now calls forth splendor.
—Horace, Epistles
Alex doesn’t usually show a lot of emotion, but he tossed everything back into the ocean, returned to his seat, and took to staring listlessly out the window.
“It’s not the end of the world,” Audree said.
“No.” He managed a smile. “She’s playing games with us.”
“This Rachel has a sick sense of humor.”
“She wants me to give up and go away.”
Audree smiled. “Not used to that kind of treatment from attractive women, are we?”
Alex squeezed her hand and opened his link. “Connect me with Cory,” he said to it.
Audree turned my way. “Who’s Cory?”
“He runs the Antiquity Research Service in West Arkon. Among other things, they can do analyses to determine the age of artifacts—”
“But you don’t have the artifact.”
“That’s right.”
“So—?”
Alex shushed us. “Cory?”
I heard a voice respond. Alex listened. Then: “Got a question for you. We’ve been tracking a marker of unknown origin. We have pictures of it. It looks like something you’d find in a cemetery. Except it has more extensive engraving. Three lines of symbols. It’s probably pretty old. Centuries. Maybe more. Do you think you can get an age estimate on the thing based on pictures?”
The voice replied.
“No,” said Alex, “I don’t think we can get the object itself. We’ve been trying.”
And: “It’s a long story. You really don’t want to hear about the details. Is it possible to get an estimate from the pictures?”
And: “Okay. Hold on a minute. We have two. I’ll send them to you.” He transmitted the images, listened for a minute, said okay, and closed the link.
We hit an air pocket, and the APV bounced around. “Didn’t see that one coming,” said Kira.
“Been a long day,” I said, hoping to lighten the mood. Audree agreed that it had been. And somebody else, I forget who, observed that rain was expected in the Andiquar area that night. Then Alex’s link beeped.
“Go ahead, Corey.”
The cabin went dead silent. I guess we were all listening, trying to hear what was being said at the other end. “Okay,” Alex said, “I guess that’s what I thought.”
Then, a moment later: “If I can figure out a way to do that, I’ll get it to you.”
And, finally: “Right, Corey. Thanks.”
“No luck?” said Audree.
“No. They need 3-D with good definition.”
“Maybe we could burgle the condo,” I said.
Alex was in no mood for humor. “You’d be just the person for the job. But there might be something we can do.”
He made an appointment with Madeleine Greengrass, and two hours later we descended onto the pad at number 12, Gold Range. Madeleine had seen us coming, and she was waiting for us when we got to the front door. “Mr. Benedict,” she gushed, “I’m honored to meet you.” The laid-back, casual charmer of my first meeting was gone, overwhelmed by Alex’s celebrity.
She took us inside, where she asked if we’d like something to drink. “Thank you, no,” said Alex. “We’re on the run at the moment.”
“You’re still interested in that rock,” she said.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry I let it get away. If I’d known you wanted it, I’d have held on to it. But it was such an eyesore, Mr. Benedict. It was just something I wanted to get rid of.”
“Of course,” he said. “I understand.”
“Did you find the people who took it?” She looked my way as if I were somehow responsible.
“It’s complicated,” Alex said. “You posted two pictures at the site.”
“Yes. That’s right. I have them if you’d like to see them.”
“No, we have them, too. But those pictures weren’t originals. Right? The engravings were pretty badly worn. So you smoothed it out.”
“Yes,” she said. “I didn’t think there was any problem with doing that since I wasn’t asking any money for it. I just wanted to get rid of it.”
“Do you have the original pictures?”
She frowned, and we had the answer. “They became the cleaned-up copies. I saw no point in making an extra set.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive, Mr. Benedict.”
“All right: One final question?”
“Sure.”
“How big was this thing?”
She held her hand to indicate something a bit more than waist high.
Alex left with a client to evaluate an exhibition set up by the Tempus Institute. He was just lifting away when Jacob announced a call. “Franz Koeffler,” he said. “A reporter. He wants to speak with Alex.”
“Put him through, Jacob,” I said.
I knew Koeffler, though not well. He worked for Transoceanic News, for whom he wrote a column that usually combined science and politics. He was about average size, a little on the heavy side, and had a mildly rumpled look. He spoke with a gravitas that implied his views were not to be taken lightly. Despite that, somehow, he managed to be self-effacing and easy to get along with. He’d become especially interested in Alex over the past couple of years, and had written extensively about the Seeker, and about our trip to Salud Afar. He was likable, though, maybe because there was something of the little kid in him.
He blinked on. He was standing with his rear end propped against a desk. “Chase,” he said. “Good to see you again.”
“Hello, Franz. Alex isn’t available at the moment. Can I help you?”
“Probably. How about telling me what Alex is after this time?”
I tried to look puzzled. “What are we talking about, Franz?”
“Come on, Chase. We know each other too well to play games. Your boss has a talent for uncovering huge stories. What’s he working on now?”
“I don’t think anything special. I know he’s been interested in the Longworth Ruby.” Which, of course, had been worn by Isabella Longworth while she guided the City on the Crag to greatness two thousand years ago. It had disappeared during the assassination and was periodically reported as having been in one place or another over the centuries, but no one could confirm the claims, and nobody had had any luck running it down.
“Sunset Tuttle,” he said.
“I’m sorry?”
“Chase, if you’re not going to talk to me, I’ll just go with what I have. Did Tuttle find something after all?”
“Franz, maybe you need to talk to Alex. I don’t know anything about this.”
“Okay. Have it your way.” He stood up. Shrugged. Looked disappointed. “Chase, I thought I could count on you.”