The Pandora Directive: A Tex Murphy Novel (31 page)

Witt harrumphed. “I’ll defer, if you insist. But I don’t like it.”

Fitzpatrick ignored the postscript and turned toward me. “Since you bought Ms Madsen, I’ll assume that she has earned your confidence.”

I nodded, but inside I was asking myself a few questions. What if, after everything that happened…? It seemed impossible, but it had happened before. I turned to Regan, who gave me a wink. It didn’t help.

Fitzpatrick blew out a puff of smoke. “Well, then, that’s settled. We should get on to business. Would either of you care for a drink?” We both declined. “Mr Witt, why don’t you tell our friend Murphy your part in this matter.”

Witt glanced at Fitzpatrick impatiently, then turned to me. “I met Malloy years ago. I’d written several books that touched on certain theories which Malloy had experienced first hand. Some people consider me something of an authority in the field of UFOlogy. Malloy arranged to meet me. After we got to know each other, he showed me the alien hieroglyphs. I provided Malloy with copies of other writings, supposedly of alien origin, hoping that they would help him in the deciphering process. From that time on, we stayed in contact.” Folding his arms again over his girth, Witt turned his eyes toward Fitzpatrick.

Fitzpatrick flicked the ash of the end of his Cubana and looked at me. “As you can see, Mr Witt is on our side. It turns out that there was no reason for you to steal the box from him, though it may have sped up the process. Mr Witt can be quite stubborn.” From the corner, Witt snorted. Fitzpatrick continued. “I believe we have come to the proverbial moment of truth. It seems that what we’re about to learn will prove to be of great importance. Thomas went to great lengths to make certain that no one person had all the information. I believe he intended for this reunion to be a council of sorts, attended by the people he considered most trustworthy, including myself, Mr Witt , Ms. Madsen, and Mr Murphy, who is representing Emily Sue Patterson, Thomas’s widow. It is regrettable that two others, Oliver Edsen and Archie Ellis, cannot be here with us.”

After an appropriate moment of silence and a puff on the cigar, Fitzpatrick spoke again. “Thomas feared the intervention of several powerful groups. We have reason to believe that one of these is the NSA. Mr Murphy, why don’t you tell Mr Witt what has happened.”

Witt seemed at least mildly interested. “The first box I found had been delivered to Malloy’s wife. After some ugliness, I got the box, and an NSA agent ended up dead. I got pulled into an NSA office and met with a man named Jackson Cross. He wanted the box and seemed to have no compunction about killing for it. Well, I ended up with the box after all and expected to catch an agency bullet in the brain for it. But for some inexplicable reason, the NSA backed off.”

Witt stirred. “Why do you think that is, Mr Murphy?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they decided to let me do all the work, then move in, hoping to catch all of the boxes in one place.”

“Like they are right now.”

“I was careful.”

“I think you have too high an opinion of yourself, Mr Murphy,” Witt sneered.

“Well, did you bring the box Malloy sent you? Oh, I forgot. I have it.”

“That’s enough!” Fitzpatrick’s voice was raised for the first time since I’d met him. “This is not the time for petty squabbling! We’re all in this together, and we are obliged to co-operate. Now, Mr Murphy, let’s have the boxes.”

I reached into Edsen’s duffel bag and pulled out the box I’d stolen from Witt’s place and the one I’d recovered from the storage locker at LAX. Fitzpatrick took one from me and walked across the room to a desk. Regan and I followed. On top of the desk, I saw the first box, the one originally sent to Emily, which had already been opened. Beside it lay the long metal pin that had been inside the as-yet-unopened box I’d gotten from Regan, and the power cell. God bless UPEX.

Fitzpatrick sat down and flipped on the ultraviolet lamp. When he held Edsen’s box under the light, a small square materialised on one side. Fitzpatrick touched the square, but nothing happened. He pressed on it again and moved the box around. Keeping his finger pressed to the square, he picked the box up. On the underside, a hole had appeared. He picked up the long pin from Emily’s box and slid it into the hole. The top of the box opened.

Witt joined us as Fitzpatrick set the newly opened box down on the desk. Inside was a square piece of metal about the size of a Scrabble tile, and a small component about three inches square. It looked like it could be an attachment used on a professional photographer’s camera. There was a short stem protruding from it and two holes which looked like typical receptor slots. Fitzpatrick leaned back and released his breath. “This must be the first piece of the Pandora Device.”

Setting the component, metal tile, and box to the side, he moved the box Regan had given me under the lamp. The small squares I’d seen before were revealed. Fitzpatrick picked up the metal tile and placed it on one of the square areas of the box. The tile was magnetic and stuck to the box surface, but nothing happened. He then pried off the tile and placed it on the other square, with the same result.

“May I have the other box, Mr Murphy?”

I handed Witt’s box over, and Fitzpatrick placed it under the lamp. Again, two squares appeared on the box surface, but these were connected by a thin line. Fitzpatrick repeated the process of applying the tile to first one square, then the other, but the box remained sealed. Regan moved closer to the desk.

“How about trying it this way?” She reached down and pressed her finger on the metal tile, which was still fixed to one of the squares. Exerting some pressure, she slid the tile roof along the line. As soon as it reached the other square, the lid popped open. Fitzpatrick smiled and turned his face up toward Regan.

“Excellent work, young lady. You seem to have inherited your father’s ingenuity.”

Regan beamed. Fitzpatrick opened the lid of the box, revealing another metal tile and the second piece of the Pandora Device which was similar to the first component. Removing the first metal tile from the top of Witt’s box, Fitzpatrick then applied both tiles to the corresponding areas on Regan’s box. It opened. Inside was yet another component. The third component looked like the other two, but had several switches and buttons on one side. Fitzpatrick turned to me.

“You’ve seen the schematic of the Pandora Device, have you not? Do we now have all the sections?”

“The schematic only showed three. But Malloy said he sent out five boxes.”

“This device is our only concern at present.”

Fitzpatrick and I carried the three components to the end table, so everyone would have a clear view. It took no more than five minutes to assemble the device. When it was finished, all eyes were glued to the strange contraption.

My palms were wet. The excitement in Witt’s eyes belied his gruff, impassive exterior. Regan’s face was flushed, her breathing short. Fitzpatrick seemed the most composed, but his hands trembled slightly as he touched the Pandora Device. He touched several buttons and switches as though he knew what he was doing, and suddenly a light appeared. A holographic image began to materialise, a ghostly figure of Malloy. It spoke.

“Since you’re seeing this, I assume that everyone is present. I’ve brought the five of you together for a very important reason, so I won’t waste time with introductions and too much explaining. The fact of the matter is that you are now a council, and it is your responsibility to make a very important decision. What I’m about to reveal may be the greatest discovery in the history of our planet, and may also be the most devastating.

“As you know, I have spent most of my life trying to decipher the alien symbols discovered in the Roswell spacecraft. Well, I have now lived to fulfil my ambition. This is not the time or place to give a full translation, but one detail must be addressed. The alien hieroglyphics say that another spacecraft came before and is still here. And I know where it is.

“The alien craft was an exploration ship, designed to travel many light years. The translation indicates that it was like the Roswell craft, only much larger. As some of you may know, the Roswell ship carried a lot of equipment, including particle accelerators. What you probably don’t know is that it also carried pods of antihydrogen.

“For years, scientists have known that interstellar travel would be nearly impossible without significant quantities of stable, stored antihydrogen. For almost as many years, scientists have met with little to no success in creating and storing it. I believe that first spacecraft has a huge supply of stable, stored antihydrogen.

“If our society were ready for such a discovery, I think it would be the most wonderful ever. It might allow us to finally break the barriers of space travel, explore other galaxies, contact other civilisations. Unfortunately, we’re not ready for it. We proved that forty years ago.

“I’m leaving you the decision of what to do. If this information gets into the hands of the wrong people, it could result in total and complete destruction. In my opinion, the craft must be taken off the planet and destroyed. Otherwise, it may destroy us.

“Good luck, my friends. Pandora’s box had been opened. It’s up to you to close it.”

The image faded. I pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. Now I was ready for a bourbon. No one spoke as I walked to the bar and poured myself a drink. Finally, Fitzpatrick spoke. “This is much worse than I ever imagined.”

I took a long drink. Witt’s voice was strange. “Undoubtedly it must be destroyed. I think we’re all in agreement on that.”

Regan looked up and spoke. “I’m not sure we are. Maybe my father’s experiences with the military have biased him. Just think of the possibilities. And it would certainly be worth a lot of money.”

Witt’s tone was chastising, a teacher correcting a recalcitrant pupil. “Money is not a factor. What we’re talking about is a force thousands, maybe millions of times greater than the atomic bomb. It would be like handing a child an automatic weapon. We would certainly destroy ourselves.” he glanced at Fitzpatrick.

Fitzpatrick looked back, uneasily. “There is little to be gained by discussing the ramifications. The fact is, we must act. Our first step is to find out the ship’s location.” He flipped another switch. The device emitted a green light, and a three-dimensional map appeared. Unless my geography skills had totally abandoned me, the latitude and longitude placed the craft somewhere in north-western Peru. As we watched intently, the map began to move, and we were taken in over the projected terrain.

When the display faded, Fitzpatrick turned to me. “Mr Witt and I must contact some of our sources. I suggest that you try to find this place. With luck, you may reach the area and locate the ship without interference from the NSA or any other group. We will send out two other search parties via different routes. In the event that any of us are detained, the others may reach the location.”

He walked to his desk and pulled an object from one of the drawers. “This is a communication device, not unlike an auto-page. It links up directly with another, just like it, which I will keep with me at all times. Not only can you send a message, but we can also trace you to your immediate location. If you find a spacecraft and it’s all clear, the code will be 111. if you locate the ship but are followed, the use the code 222. If you don’t find the ship right away, send the code 333 to let us know where you are, and that you’re still looking. When you’re ready to send us a message, press the pound sign, then the enter code, then press send.”

Fitzpatrick handed me the communicator. I slipped it into my pocket.

“Mr Witt will be occupied with organising everything necessary for the retrieval and disposal of the ship.”

Witt pulled Fitzpatrick into a corner, where they began laying out their plans. Regan walked over to where I was standing, near the bar. She reached past me for a glass and poured herself a bourbon. After a small sip, she turned to me, standing close. “So when do we leave? I need to go back to my room and pick some things up.”

“We’re not going. I’m going.”

Regan raised an eyebrow. “Really? And when was that decided?”

“Oh , about forty years ago. I’m a solo kind of guy.”

Regan tossed down her bourbon. “Well, get over it. I don’t know what kind of woman you think I am, but I’m not going to stay home like some delicate little society flower.” She slammed her glass onto the bar and spun away. She stormed off, grabbed her coat and purse, and walked to the door. “I’ll catch a cab home. Don’t leave without me.” she slammed the door and was gone as quickly as my bourbon.

I refilled my glass and sat down. I wasn’t going to take her, no matter what she said. It was going to be hard work and dangerous. The last thing I needed was someone else to worry about. Witt and Fitzpatrick were talking earnestly. What was I doing in this mess? These guys had taken Malloy’s message in stride, almost as if they had expected its contents. Personally, the circuits in my head were blown. All I knew for sure was that I was going to Peru in the morning. Talk about being in over one’s head.

I poured a third bourbon. It was helping. Slowly, strangely, my head cleared. Maybe this wasn’t your standard detective work, but it was a responsibility on a large scale, the kind you just don’t turn your back on. I drained the bourbon. There was a lot to do before I took off, and time was running out fast. I walked to the door. Witt’s voice cut me off. “Hold on, Murphy.”

I turned around. Witt lumbered toward me. “Take this.” he handed me a card. On the back were a name and a number. “This guy’ll get you down there safely. I’ll let him know you’re coming first thing tomorrow. Go home and get some sleep. When you meet this guy tomorrow, bring along enough suppliers to last for three days. We’ll meet you by that time.”

I nodded.

“And don’t take the woman. I don’t trust her, no matter what you and Fitzpatrick say. We have no margin of error. There can be no distractions, no excuses. Everything depends on what we do now. We have to succeed. No matter what.”