You could have heard a pin drop. The light blue room with its serene landscapes and cuddly animals felt completely incongruous. People were frowning, shifting nervously. I stared at Falcon, trying to get my mind around the things he was saying. Gray, escaped? Trouble was, Falcon didn’t just spout nonsense.
“I’m not following you,” I told him.
“You make the assumption that Skientia, as a powerful corporation, is the true danger. That Gray is a helpless, mentally impaired victim. The attempted assassination by unknown parties adds to that illusion. I am entertaining the notion that exactly the opposite is true. That she is a threat, and the attempt on her life was not made by necessarily hostile parties.”
“Then, who were they?” Savage demanded.
Falcon gave him a sober gaze, then said, “One thing at a time, Major. Let’s eliminate variables first, shall we?”
Falcon tilted his head. “The answer to King Smut’s purpose, and the creation of that tomb, probably lies in that black box, the jar, and the papyrus book from his sarcophagus.”
“His name is Fluvium,” Kilgore interjected. “Or so Domina claims.”
Falcon nodded acquiescence. “Very well, Fluvium apparently wanted Gray to receive the book, box, and jar. In the meantime, I think Gray is looking for a way to save both her husband and her world.”
Kilgore France was having a terrible time with all of this. She asked, “What do you mean when you say, ‘save her husband and her world’?”
Falcon replied, “In light of Gray’s statement, ‘Worthless world, worthless people,’ I suggest we proceed under the assumption that if she can get what she needs from Skientia, she will do irreparable harm to our very existence.”
“Time travel? Paradox?” Reid Farmer snapped, “This is nuts!”
Cries of disbelief filled the room.
“Yo! Y’all!” Edwin bellowed to restore order. “Welcome to Grantham. We do crazy here every day.”
In the sudden silence, Falcon continued in his ever-so-dispassionate voice. “The other, the alternative hypothesis, is that Gray is an agent—political or commercial—bent on stealing Skientia’s secrets. To do so, she and her sponsors have created this elaborate charade to convince Skientia to allow her access to their most closely guarded technology.”
“I looked that woman in the eyes,” Reid said woodenly. He fixed his gaze on Kilgore. “Think. Really think. You may be the best forensic anthropologist alive. Consider all the details, the time it would have taken to construct that tomb, fix the geology, age the contents. And then there’s the mummy. As good as you are . . . could you have created a hoax as perfect as Fluvium?”
For long moments I watched Kilgore France stare into Reid’s eyes. Her voice wavered. “No.”
“The tomb Yusif and I opened couldn’t have been faked.” The archaeologist knotted a fist. “The problem here is that we run smack into impossibility whichever way we turn.”
He glanced my way. “And from your professional perspective, Doctor Ryan? Can you explain Domina’s psychology? Talented though she might be, could she really fake her condition that well?”
I took a deep breath, started to shrug, and then let my arms fall in defeat. “I can’t fit her into any known diagnosis. Delusions are based on what we know. She demonstrates no common cultural or historical reference with the rest of us. Couple that with her incredible knowledge of electronics and the fact that she translated a physics book into Mayan mathematics. No one would undertake that kind of effort, even if—as has been suggested—she was a spy. At this time I don’t have an alternate hypothesis.”
Even as I spoke, something slipped into place. Karla, ever vigilant when it came to facial expressions, asked, “What did you just hit on, Skipper?”
“I’ve often said that she’s like the ultimate closet child. Completely ignorant of common enculturation and socialization. But . . .” I shook my head.
Dear God! Did I almost admit in public that I believed Gray was some kind of alien?
“You people are insane!” Savage exploded.
The Grantham patients stared at him.
I chuckled to relieve the tension. “Wait a minute. Let’s not go off half-cocked. I don’t think any of us really believe that Gray came from some alternate dimension.”
And who, I asked myself, were the two assassins who just appeared in the garage that day? One to die and remain unidentified, the other to vanish into thin air?
Cat said, “Skipper, here you have a collection of some of the finest minds in their respective fields: Dr. Kilgore in forensics, Dr. Farmer in archaeology, yourself in psychology, Falcon in systems theory, me in biochemistry, not to mention the whole weight of the government when they tried to identify Gray. How can she fool us all?”
Falcon cleared his throat in the ensuing silence. “Skientia will act immediately to recover Drs. France and Farmer, along with the book, vial, and device. That Fluvium went to such efforts to send them to Gray is justification to get them back at any cost. They believe Gray can provide them with the mathematics to prove and understand quantum gravity, and perhaps the ability to manipulate entangled matter across time and space. Either would propel them into a political and financial global supremacy.”
“And Gray?” Savage asked, looking partially placated.
“We have to stop her,” Falcon said simply. “Dr. Farmer, do you know an epigrapher who can discreetly decipher Gray’s Ch’olan hieroglyphs?”
“I do.”
“Good, and see what your Mayanists can discover about the mathematics.”
Falcon turned to Cat. “Doctor Talavera, you need to find a lab and conduct an analysis of that jar. Treat the contents as a biosafety level 4 hazard until proven otherwise. Open the jar in a Class III biosafety cabinet. Take no chances.”
“Got it,” Cat answered.
“Skipper?” He turned to me. “I need you and Major Savage on the Gulfstream. Winny can fly you. The two of you need to personally update General Grazier. Given his compromised communications, brief the general in a public place, the location of which you reveal to Grazier no more than a half hour prior to meeting. Major Savage, your connections in the Intelligence Support Activity will lead you to a technician who can analyze Fluvium’s box.
“Meanwhile, Edwin and I will find us a base of operations in Santa Fe, the sort of place Skientia wouldn’t expect. Perhaps something close to the opera.”
“The what?” ET looked horrified.
“It will do you good, Edwin. An expansion of your rather limited horizons.”
“DC then Santa Fe?” I asked, slightly dazed by the rapidity of all this.
“Santa Fe is close to Los Alamos,” Falcon replied as if it explained everything.
“Now I’m a travel agent?” Edwin asked.
“Our people are going to need credit cards, identities, telephones, and other things. At the same time we will require intelligence on our enemies and their assets. You are going to be learning everything you can about the Los Alamos Labs, the people who work in them, and the Skientia building in particular. But carefully, Edwin. More carefully than anything you’ve ever undertaken.”
“Got it, Falcon.”
Karla Raven shook her hair back. “Let me guess. As Edwin uncovers data on Skientia, I figure out how to break into the place, am I right?”
“Very good, Chief. But in the meantime, you need to concentrate on keeping our people safe. Your SEAL training included executive protection strategies. If Skientia is as good as I think they are, they will make an attempt on Major Savage and the Skipper in Washington.”
“And me?” Winny asked.
“After DC, you will be flying reconnaissance missions with the chief. Providing transport. Winny, you’re our ace in the hole. If the rest of us fail, we’re going to need you to steal a jet from Kirtland Air Base.”
She grinned like a triumphant tiger. “I love this plan. What do I do with the plane?”
With deadly intent, Falcon said, “Destroy the Skientia lab from the air should we determine Gray is about to use it.”