Authors: Shane R. Daley
Tags: #Mystery, #Hard Science Fiction, #High Tech, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Space Exploration, #Technothrillers, #Thriller & Suspense, #Science Fiction, #Thrillers, #Literature & Fiction
Tyler sat back down. “Tell Ramona to call off this settlement nonsense. Let me do my job – or I’ll quit.”
“You won’t do that.”
“Try me.”
Dorian considered that for a long moment, but then shook his head. “Before you quit - before you do anything - you need to visit to the space center.”
“What? Why?”
“Just go out there and walk the place. Ramona is taking the jet out there tonight. She’s going to be there for the
Naiad
landing and will be making a speech.”
“I’m sure she won’t want me tagging along.”
“That’s her problem. Go with her. You can fly back tomorrow. After you’ve seen the space center, we’ll talk about our legal tactics.”
Tyler didn’t want to go to New Mexico, but if it would get him back in charge of his duties, it might be worth it. It would also give him a chance to meet with Noah Gettleman. He still wanted to follow up with the senior flight director’s request for help. Perhaps problems with the company extended beyond the New York offices.
“All right,” he said slowly, putting his hands to his knees and standing up. “I’ll go. For one day.”
Dorian closed his eyes once again. The trace of a smile parted his lips, and he said nothing more.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The bedroom was silent. Sinclair Dorian laid in the darkness, propped up with several large pillows. He stared out of the wall-sized picture window at the night stars. It had been a lifetime ago that he had discovered them shining down from the night sky in their silent glory. He could not remember the exact moment when he first noticed them, but they always held a special place in his heart, knowing that the light they cast was from a distance and expanse of time greater than all of human experience. People, wrapped up in their brief, insignificant lives, rarely paused to contemplate the greater universe around them.
The stars beckoned him. The most profound answers, he felt, were far beyond the small sphere of Earth.
He had spent a lifetime searching for something to prove his own worth, to make a difference - as a factory worker, an Air Force pilot, and later a businessman and philanthropist. No matter where he was, he always wanted to see more, go farther, and experience everything he could in life.
His legacy was to expand mankind’s reality.
He inhaled deeply from the oxygen tube under his nose. The bright moon hung high above the glowing horizon. He wished he were further north, for there was nowhere in Westchester County where city lights did not hide all but the brightest of the night stars.
The door opened a crack, and a pulse of light shone as Shannon came into the room. Silently she moved to the bed.
“Could you open the curtains a bit more?” Dorian asked, without turning his head from the window.
“Of course,” she whispered. She made her way through the darkness and pulled open the curtains of the high window as far as they would go. When she was finished, she paused to follow Dorian’s gaze outside. “It’s pretty,” she said, leaning against the windowsill.
It was like this almost every night. When it came time to put him to bed, she usually found he had already turned off the television and was staring out at the night sky, lost in his own thoughts.
“I wish I was in New Mexico.”
“I know.” She stepped away from the window and approached the bed. She leaned down, touching his stubbled cheek. “How’s the pain? You haven’t taken anything all afternoon.”
“I’m all right.” He looked up at her. In the dim moonlight his face wrinkled into a tired smile. “Do I ever thank you for putting up with me?”
“Every day, Sinclair.”
She walked to the door and looked back. “When are you going to tell them?”
“Pardon me?”
“When are you going to tell your friends - everyone - what’s happened to you?”
“Tomorrow’s a big day,” he said in the darkness. “When the astronauts come back, I want them to visit me here. I want to speak with them.”
He had ignored her question, but she let it pass. “I’ll get you up in time for the landing. Sleep tight.”
“I know they’ve been worried about me,” he told her as she closed the door. “I’ll tell them everything soon enough.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
After a late-night arrival at Albuquerque International Airport via a chartered flight, Ramona Vargas, Samson Tyler, and his security detail went directly to their hotel. Ramona had not been happy to find out at the last minute that Tyler was going with her. They barely spoke during the flight, making the entire trip uncomfortable for everyone.
As a precaution, the rooms had been cleared by security by the time the executives were escorted through a side entrance. Ramona’s room was on the second floor. Tyler’s room was on the third. He noted with mild disappointment that the place was not nearly as plush as the Strathenge. They settled in at almost eight o’clock local time.
“I’ll be back later,” Lynn told him, as she made a final check of the room. “Someone will be guarding your door at all times. Keep your drapes closed. If you need anything from room service, call me and I’ll make the request.”
“I know the drill,” he said, tossing his suitcase on the bed. “I want to use the hotel phone. Has it been checked?”
Lynn nodded. Part of the procedure was to sweep the room for surveillance devices. “The phones should be fine,” she said, heading for the door. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
After Lynn closed the door behind her, Tyler walked over to the desk, picked up the phone and dialed out. He was still avoiding the use of his cell phone for important calls. It was two hours later in New York. Yesterday he had called Cindy early in the morning; now he worried that he was calling her too late.
After the second ring, she picked up. “Hello?”
“Cindy, it’s me. I’m in New Mexico.”
“What are you doing there?”
“Just a quick visit. Did your husband get the information?”
“Samson, I hope this doesn’t become a habit. My workday seems to be extending to a twenty-four-seven schedule.”
“I know, Cindy,” Tyler replied soothingly. “I wouldn’t be doing this without good reason. So, did you husband find anything from the item I gave you?”
There was a pause. “Sort of.”
Tyler felt a rise of excitement. Finally, he would have some solid information on Merrick. “And?”
“Your person’s name is Evelyn Haley Merrick.”
Tyler frowned. So her name really
was
Merrick. He had assumed it was a pseudonym.
“I don’t understand,” said Cindy. “Why do you care about this woman? She hasn’t been with us in over six months.”
Tyler’s frowned deepened. “What do you mean 'with us'?”
“She’s an ex-employee. A contractor.”
Tyler reached out for the desk chair and sat down. “Hold on. Are you telling me that Merrick actually
worked
for Templar Enterprises? How did you find that out?”
“After my husband came up with nothing, I ran the digitized prints against Templar’s personnel records. High security-level employees have to provide fingerprints. I figured that with everything that’s going on, you were probably looking for information about one of our employees. There wasn’t much in her file, though. I mean, for a woman who spent nearly two years with the company, you would think–”
“Two
years
?”
“She started working as a technical consultant about six months after the company went public.”
That was how Merrick had firsthand knowledge of how the company operated. That might tie her into the surplus material purchases, since most of the purchases were for research and development purposes.
If she was an insider, then she wasn’t working alone. The pieces were falling into place, and Tyler was starting to understand what he was dealing with. Merrick was never trying to help him. She was an industrial spy. She had spent the last week distracting him - and had done a damn good job of it. The question now was just how much damage she had inflicted, and whether he could find evidence of her crimes.
“Can you fax me your information?” he asked.
“I could email you the files.”
“I don’t trust email from the office. I’m going to need you to print out and fax me the material.”
“I can do that. Just give me a number to send it to.”
“I’ll get you the number to the hotel fax machine. Does anyone else know what you’ve found?”
“No.”
“Good. Don’t tell anyone. Keep a copy of the material for yourself and hang onto it. You did great, Cindy. Thank you. And thank your husband for me, will you?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll call you back with that number.” Tyler hung up, leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling with a grin. Now, he knew what he was dealing with. For the first time in days, he felt ready for what was coming next.
***
Over the next ten minutes, Cindy faxed her material to the hotel's front desk. Tyler went over it carefully as it came through at the front desk. The company personnel records revealed little. There was no accompanying resume, though the paperwork indicated that Merrick was a U.S. citizen, complete with a Brooklyn address and what was probably a fake driver’s license and Social Security number. The employee photograph looked nothing like the woman he knew as ‘Merrick’. Because of that, Tyler was not convinced that the information was accurate.
If Merrick actually worked at Templar, then she was more than just a consultant in Templar’s R&D outfit. She would have worked directly with the Advanced Prototyping and Designs division. The records provided the basic information on Evelyn Merrick’s career. Date of hire, positions, assignment locations, date of departure. There was no indication of an exit interview, and no indication that she was ever involved with material acquisition.
But the fact that she actually worked for Templar meant that people must have met and interacted with her. He would have to track down employees who might have worked with her when he returned to New York.
He placed the information, along with a short note, into a manila envelope. Then he used the desk phone to call out. After a few rings, Teresa’s answering machine came on. He had left a final message for her before he had left on his flight, so he didn’t bother leaving another. When he got back, he would try to patch things up with her, no matter what it took. Now that she was gone, he really missed her.
He dialed another number.
“Dusty, it’s me. What’s going on?”
“I heard Sinclair forced you to take a vacation.”
“This is hardly a vacation, my friend.”
There were a few moments of silence before Dusty continued. “Listen, Samson, I wanted to talk to you about what happened earlier. I should have taken a stand against Ramona. Believe me, I had no idea that she was going to -”
“To give you my job?” Tyler broke in. “I think we were both caught by surprise. I thought you’d keep me in the loop a little better, though.”
“Hey, it’s only been a few hours.”
“So, how much damage did you do?”
“Well, I managed to screw up our peace offering.”
“That’s because you moved too soon. A good settlement offer is all in the timing.”
“It gets even worse. Rumor has it that Justice will be moving forward with full-blown criminal charges.”
Tyler bit his lower lip. He had expected that. “Does Ed Greyson know about this? Outside counsel is going to need all the time they can get.”
“I’ve already spoken with him. He’s suggesting that we shut down operations.”
“No way,” Tyler said. “Justice can do all they want, but without an injunction it’s still business as usual for us. Besides, what are we supposed to do? Leave our spaceship floating around in orbit?”
“Ramona should not have gotten involved in this. She should have left you alone.”
Tyler grinned. “Can’t take the pressure, pal?”
“Funny, but who’s calling whom here?”
“Ouch.”
“It should never have come to this, Samson.”
“I know. I’m working on setting things right.”
“There’s one more thing. Someone sent you a packet of information. Cindy opened it and gave it to me since I’m, uh, heading things up here right now.”
“What was in it?”
“See, that’s the thing. I’m not sure
what
it is. It looks like disclosures and memorandum from the time Templar had issues with the SEC. Copies of documents and internal memos. All sorts of stuff. A lot of the material has your name on it.”
Tyler didn’t reply.
“Hello?” Dusty asked.
“I’m here,” Tyler replied, feeling the strength drain from his body. He sat down in the chair. “Where did you - where did these documents come from?”
“I wish I knew. Personal courier delivery. No return address. And there’s one other thing. A note was attached saying that a copy of this material was being sent to the authorities.”
That package was from Merrick. Tyler was sure of it. There was no telling what damning information it contained. Some of it might even be fabricated. “Dusty, I think it would be better if you left that package alone for now.”
There was silence on the line for long moment. “Samson, what the hell is going on here?”
Tyler squeezed his eyes shut. He wished now that he never discovered the truth about Templar’s history. This was Merrick’s fault. She had set him out on this chase. Now he was trapped by the very truth he had sought. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter.
Five minutes ago, he had clues to Merrick’s identity, he knew the truth about Templar’s origins, and he had a good idea who was behind all these problems. Now everything had fallen apart. The focus of the investigation had shifted from the present to the past, where the criminal evidence - real or fabricated - was now directed at
him
.
Tyler opened his eyes. “You just hang tight, Dusty. I’ll take care of things from this end.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’re going to have to trust me,” he said as hung up.
***
Tyler stood dripping before the bathroom mirror that had steamed up from his long, hot shower. He squinted through the fog at his reflection.