Noordhof’s voice was dripping with incredulity. “Let me get this straight. Your conjecture is that information vital to the survival of the United States could be in this ancient manuscript.”
“All copies of which were quietly and systematically removed. There had to be a reason for that.”
“Ollie…” Noordhof was starting to play with a cigar. “I have to go with Herb on this. We’re almost out of time here. We can’t afford the luxury of eccentric diversions.”
“Now hold it right there, Colonel.” Shafer’s tone was firm. “We have to let Ollie run with this. Okay it sounds crazy to us. But he’s on this team because he knows his business and sometimes crazy ideas are the best.”
“Anyone got a match? I bow to your wisdom as exemplified by your Nobel Prizes, Willy. But I still think Ollie’s time would be better spent giving us a list of known near-missers that we could check out. And what if we pick up a suspect asteroid in Webb’s absence? We’ll need him here, not wandering around Europe looking for some missing ancient manuscript.”
Webb took this as a coded recognition that Sacheverell wasn’t up to it. He said, “I’ll be giving the team a list of known close approachers this morning. It’s still dark on Maui and some might be accessible from there right now. Others could be checked out on Kenneth’s telescope tonight. If all goes well I’ll be back before the deadline and no way will irrevocable decisions have been reached before then. Nor, I predict, will you have found Nemesis.”
Judy had found a box of matches in a kitchen drawer. Noordhof lit up. He fixed an intense stare on Webb and adopted a grim tone. “Ollie, I repeat what I was authorized to tell you. That if we don’t find Nemesis by the prescribed deadline the Administration will go on the working assumption that it won’t be found before impact, and will then adopt the appropriate posture.”
Webb said, “I know what that means, Colonel. But I’m convinced that this is something that has to be checked out.”
The soldier sighed. “We’re into the Christmas period, Oliver. Transatlantic flights will be booked solid.”
“I’ll bribe somebody off a flight if I have to.”
“I don’t like it. We need tight security for this operation, and we don’t get that with people wandering around Europe.”
“This is my last throw. I don’t have anything else.”
“Jesus.” Noordhof blew a contemplative smoke ring. “Okay. We’re having to take risks all the way here. Cross the Atlantic by the fastest possible route. Willy, take Judy’s car and give Webb a lift to Tucson. Judy’s not up to driving.”
“But I’ll go along for the ride,” she said. “I’m nearly through the bomb simulations.”
Webb asked, “What day is this?”
Noordhof groaned. “Ollie, it’s now Thursday morning, ten hundred hours Mountain Time. Our deadline is set in Eastern Standard Time, that is, the time on Washington clocks. Deliver Nemesis by midnight tomorrow EST. Which is to say, you have one day and twelve hours. If you don’t make it back here get this Royal Astronomer guy to endorse your identification. No offence, but for something like this I need confirmation.”
They stood up. Sacheverell shambled towards the refrigerator. Over his shoulder he said, “This is a joke. So far as I’m concerned Webb’s now out of it.”
“One last thing, Ollie. The Secretary of Defense wants a personal briefing from the team tomorrow evening at a secure location. We’ll need to know how you’ve progressed. You’ll be in Italy but contact us at Willy’s beach house, which is in Solana Beach, California. As before the line will be secure at the American end but just remember that telephones are death. It’s a question of balancing risks. Use a public booth, and if you have a shadow of doubt don’t phone.”
“I’ll give you my number to memorize in the car,” said Shafer.
“Herb,” Noordhof said, “I’ve got some bad news.”
Back in his room, Webb put his laptop computer into its case and squeezed clothes and papers into odd spaces. He stepped out of his room and moved down the stairs, along the corridor and out the front door.
Into the winch house. The car had locked into place, its door half open. Webb ignored it and crossed to the control desk. A vertical metal panel below the controls was held in place by four simple screws. He took out a pen and bent the clip, using it as a screwdriver, glancing back at the main building as he did. The panel came off easily.
Webb stuck his head inside, keeping well clear of the thick, live cable which rose from under the concrete and disappeared into the On — Off switch. A slight crackling of his hair told him that he was dangerously close to a high voltage. The design of the switch was simple. When the switch was moved to On, two metal prongs would make contact with two metal studs and so close the circuit. However at the back of the studs were two strong electromagnets, placed in such a way that, if current flowed through a second cable, the studs would be pulled back and no contact made whatever the position of the On — Off switch. This other cable, Webb assumed, went all the way to the upper platform. It was a device to ensure that the cable car could be moved only from whatever platform it was currently at.
But someone had earthed this second cable: a shiny new wire had been wrapped tightly round it and joined on to a metal rod freshly driven into the concrete. Which meant that the cable car was now controlled from the ground. Which meant that an ill-disposed individual on the ground could wait until Leclerc had stepped halfway out of the car and then suddenly pull it away, leaving Leclerc, off-balance, to fall into the gap between car and platform. Webb’s scalp began to tingle and he couldn’t have said whether it was his discovery or the electricity.
Webb pulled his head out just in time to hear the observatory door close. He had been in plain view; but had he been seen? Hastily, he screwed the panel back into place. He walked briskly back to the observatory. Kowalski, in the corridor, was looking stunned. He shook his head without a word. Sacheverell’s voice came from the common room; it was raised in anger. Webb passed by to the Conference Room and logged in to Virginia’s home page. And while he transferred her Vincenzo files into his laptop computer, he pondered. There was a lot to ponder:
1. Fraudulent signals from a telescope;
2. a murdered colleague;
3. Leclerc’s disappearance before his murder;
4. a missing 400-year-old manuscript;
5. somewhere out there, a billion-ton asteroid, closing at twenty or thirty kilometres a second; and now
6. someone determined to make sure they didn’t find it.
Tucson, Thursday Afternoon
Shafer took the wheel and Webb flopped into the passenger seat, the lack of sleep suddenly catching up on him. In a moment Judy appeared. Webb scrutinized the contours of her tracksuit as she approached. She caught him at it and gave a bleak smile as she settled into the back seat. The curves, Webb decided, didn’t leave room for a pencil, let alone a weapon. He began to wonder if exhaustion was bringing out some latent paranoia.
They took off smoothly, Shafer taking the big car down round the hairpin bends with ease. Webb found himself peering anxiously into the trees. As they dropped below the snowline, the temperature rose marginally, and by the time the Pontiac had stopped at the gate separating the survivalists from Piñon Mesa, the air was mild. A smell of woodsmoke met Webb as he pulled the gate open.
They drove through the settlement, past a couple of dirty red Dodge trucks. An elderly man was sitting at a porch with a pipe and a gallon jar of some brown juice at his feet. He raised his hand in a friendly gesture as they passed. Shafer said that, given Nemesis, maybe the survivalists had the right idea, and Judy said that wasn’t funny.