Echo

EIGHT

We didn’t have a decent view of Rachel’s building from the parking area, so we went airborne. Alex didn’t want to tell me what we were waiting for. Instead, he got that smug look and said I should just sit tight.

So I let him enjoy his moment. Then I asked whether he really believed she was sending for Doug again.

“Sure,” he said with that big grin. “What choice does she have?”

We drifted around and watched. After about twenty minutes, the white, split-wing Sentinel came out of the western sky, homed in on the Square, and descended onto what was probably Rachel’s private pad behind the building. A door opened, and Doug popped out, followed by Brian. They climbed up onto the covered walkway, out of our view, and must have gone in through a rear entrance.

“We going down to confront them?” I asked.

“And do what? Let’s just watch.”

They’d been inside about ten minutes when they reappeared, carrying what might have been a packing case. It looked big enough to contain the tablet.

The case was obviously heavy. They struggled with it but got it to the Sentinel. A door opened and they pushed it into the backseat. Then both climbed on board, and the skimmer rose into the night.

“Where do you figure they’re going?” I asked.

“Don’t know. I assume a more secure place to stow the tablet.”

It was dark by then, the last vestiges of the sunset lost in the lights of a thousand airborne vehicles. The sky was full of moving stars. The Sentinel surprised us by entering an eastbound lane. Outbound, toward the ocean. We remained with them, but stayed far enough back to avoid discovery. I hoped.

We moved across the city and arced out toward the beaches. The traffic turned north and south along the coast, but the Sentinel kept going.

Just offshore and south of the city, a large brightly illuminated emporium, the Majestic, occupied a quarter of Liberty Island. Its upper deck provided landing pads, and I thought for a moment that was where they were headed. But they maintained altitude and kept going as the remaining traffic peeled away. “Alex,” I said, “if we stay with them, they’ll know we’re here.”

“Can’t help it, Chase.”

“Where are they going? You think there’s a boat out here somewhere?”

“They’re going to dump it.”

“Why on earth would they do that?”

“I have no idea, Chase. For whatever reason, Rachel wants to keep it out of our hands. If that means dropping it in the ocean, that’s what she’s prepared to do.”

“What do you suggest?”

He shook his head. “Damn. Open a channel to them.”

We got a quick blip of static. Then Doug’s voice. “Go ahead, Benedict. That is you back there, right?”

“What are you guys doing?”

“I think you can guess.”

“Why?”

“None of your business. The thing’s taking up space, so we’re getting rid of it.” He growled. It was a thin, almost pathetic sound. “Go the hell away.”

“Listen, guys, that thing is worth a lot of money. I’m willing to pay for it.”

“How much?”

The notion suddenly broke over me that this whole thing was a con job. That we were being set up.

“I’ll give you a thousand. And match it for Brian.” That would be considerably more than either of these characters could earn in a year.

“That’s pretty good money. Why’s it worth so much, Alex?”

“I’ve told you why. The engraving uses symbols nobody’s seen before. We don’t know the source.”

“It was probably just somebody screwing around.”

“Maybe.”

“You’re really willing to pay that much?”

“Yes.”

“Hmmm.” I saw lights on the ocean. A cruise ship several kilometers to port. “Brian, what do you think?”

“Alex,” I said, “they’ve opened the door.”

We got Brian’s voice: “The money sounds pretty good, Doug. Maybe we ought to—Oops!” Something tumbled out into the sky and began a long fall toward the ocean. “Damn,” said Brian. “Dropped it.”

“Chase, get a fix.”

“Already done, Alex.”

The container disappeared into the dark.

Alex stared at the radio. “How could you guys be so dumb?”

“Look, Benedict.” Doug’s voice had acquired an edge. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you want. I really am. But it’s gone now. So I guess that’s the end of it.”

They were making a long turn, starting back toward the mainland. I was still staring down at the sea.

So we rounded up Audree again, and, accompanied by a pair of Environmental Service specialists, we went back out a couple of days later on the Shanley, one of the agency’s all-purpose vehicles. To get the Shanley, Audree had filed a statement alleging that an archeological “object” was believed to be lying on the ocean floor.

There was nothing in sight that morning except sea and sky. When we got into the area, we descended to an altitude of about a hundred meters and began scanning.

The cabin was a tight fit for five people. I was used to the relatively ample accommodations of the Belle-Marie, or, for that matter, any starship. Even the smallest of the superluminals would have been downright spacious contrasted with the APV.

The specialists were Kira Quong, the pilot, and Bailey Anderson, who oversaw the search and retrieval systems. Bailey was a big guy with a good smile whom I immediately liked. Kira was almost as tall as he was, one of the tallest women I’ve ever seen. They were the last two people on the planet you’d want to cram into that cabin. Other than size, Kira was the polar opposite of Bailey, intense, businesslike, no visible sense of humor.

“If you’re going to dump something offshore,” Kira said, “they picked a good spot. The ocean’s fairly deep here. A bit over four kilometers.”

We stayed in the air, circling the site while Bailey tried to find the packing case. “The currents are strong in the area,” he said. “It could have drifted a long way before hitting bottom.” His attention was entirely focused on his screens while he flipped switches and adjusted contrasts. “Do you guys,” he asked, “have any idea how much the case weighed?”

“It needed two guys to lift,” said Alex. “I’d guess probably a couple of hundred pounds.”

“It should have gone directly to the bottom,” I said.

Bailey shook his head. “Not necessarily. In these currents, even a brick could travel a fair distance.” He touched a pad, and the screens went dark.

“How can you see anything?” I asked.

“Anything artificial down there will light up.”

“Anything?”

“Well, anything you’d make a packing case from.”

“There’s something now.” In fact, two blinkers had appeared on the screen.

Bailey tapped his finger on one. “Probably wreckage from a boat. Looks like a spar. That one is a piece of electrical equipment, I think.” He studied the picture, made more adjustments. “Yeah, that’s got to be what it is. In any case, it’s not a box.”

“What if it’s buried in the sea bottom, Bailey?” I asked.

“Won’t matter. We can see through the mud.”

Kira looked up from her station. “No question about that,” she said, in a flat voice. “If it’s covered with mud, Bailey will see it.”

Alex looked my way and signaled to be careful. It looked as if we had a broken relationship here. The disquiet in the craft picked up, there was some glaring back and forth, and Bailey’s smile became strained.

We circled the area for more than an hour. “It takes time,” Audree said. “If it’s there, we’ll find it. It’s just a matter of patience.”

Blinkers appeared continually on the display. Bailey studied each one, shook his head, and stored the image so it wouldn’t reappear. Eventually, he hesitated over one, enlarged it, and put his finger on it. He touched a control pad, and numbers showed up on a sideboard. He leaned forward, studied the image, considered the numbers, and nodded. “There it is,” he said.

“You sure?” asked Alex.

“Well, not absolutely. Can’t be positive till we go down and look. But it’s the right configuration.”

“Can we see inside it?” asked Alex.

Bailey shook his head. “Negative.”

“Okay, Kira,” said Audree. “Let’s go.”

Kira’s fingers danced across the controls, the tone of the engines changed, the soft hum of power in the bulkheads became more audible and, somewhere, hatches locked. The Shanley eased down onto the surface. We floated for a few moments. Then the water was washing over us, and we began to submerge.

Bailey kept the image on-screen. Kira flipped a switch, and external lights came on. A few fish showed up. “Everybody stay seated,” she said. Her eyes flicked across Bailey, who stared steadily at his monitors. There were more fish. Something big and blubbery passed us on my side. The water got dark.

Bailey read off the depths as we went. “Four hundred.”

“Five hundred.”

“In case you’re wondering,” Audree said, “we’re locked on the container.”

Bailey had a better picture by then. He asked Alex whether it matched the package the two men had carried out of the condo. It did.

Pressure built in my ears as we descended. We were going down at a steep angle, and every now and then the bulkheads creaked. I wondered how deep the Shanley could go. Four kilometers sounded pretty far down, but I assured myself Audree wouldn’t take any risks.

She was enjoying herself. She took full advantage of the opportunity to show off her position for Alex. Her demeanor had changed somewhat. Her voice had taken on a note of authority, and she submerged herself—forgive the pun—in overseeing the operation. Not that she did any micro-managing. She was far too smart for anything like that. But there was never any doubt who was in charge of the operation.

We hit thirty-seven hundred meters and began to level off. Gradually, the lights picked up the bottom and played against the mud. Something darted past us.

“It’s dead ahead,” said Bailey. The tension between him and the pilot had not abated, and I was thinking there should be a rule against people who were emotionally involved with each other being on the same crew. At least when they were operating an APV.

“There it is,” Kira said. I didn’t see anything, but Bailey’s panel was beginning to beep.

“I got it,” he said.

The lights picked it up. A rectangular gray container. It was about two feet high, lying on its side. Audree looked over her shoulder at Alex.

“That’s it,” he said.

It lay half-buried.

“It’s yours, Kira,” said Bailey. He tried to get some warmth into his voice.

“I have it,” she said. “Everybody stay seated, please.” We drifted slightly to port. The packing case vanished beneath us, then was picked up by a new set of scanners.

Kira shut down all forward motion, although the currents continued to push against us. “Morley,” she said.

Morley was the AI. “Yes, Kira?”

“Initiate retrieval.”

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.”