The Tenth Cycle: A Thriller (A Rossler Foundation Mystery Book 1) (3 page)

By seven a.m. on the following Monday morning, Daniel was at his desk on the newsroom floor. The room was half-empty, but the information machine for a news outlet of the size and diversity of the Times was a twenty-four hour a day operation. The Gray Lady never slept. Daniel was one of the most dedicated employees, routinely receiving stellar performance reviews because of it. Daniel would not put out an article that wasn’t well-researched, well-vetted, and well-documented; a matter of personal pride as well as professionalism.

He had three hours to pull out and document more claims from the article to add to his editorial presentation, which already contained an overwhelming array of facts and figures to prove that the stones could not possibly have been moved from the quarry with contemporary methods. Daniel was so engrossed in his study that he almost missed his planned nine-thirty cutoff, to give himself time to go over his presentation to Kingston one more time. He hurriedly brought up his presentation and looked through it, searching for holes in his logic, details that might bore Kingston and shoot down his story, and opportunities to plant the suggestion in Kingston’s mind that he had helped shape the story.

Point one was that a respected, peer-reviewed journal had published an article questioning the status quo on scientific research of the only remaining Wonder of the Ancient World.

Point two was that there was a wealth of information on both sides; one supporting the questions the articles raised and one ingeniously refuting them, so Daniel would have plenty of fodder for a series of six to eight articles.

Point three gave John some startling and thought-provoking facts about the Great Pyramid that readers would be eager to know more about.

And, point four was the wealth of mathematical coincidences Daniel had read about, but not yet studied in detail. For that, he would need expert help, but as the article pointed out, ‘coincidence’ is not an accepted scientific conclusion.

Was it enough? He would know shortly, as the hour had arrived. Daniel knocked softly on the frame of Kingston’s open door, reflecting that Kingston must be a little interested. Normally, the door would be closed, giving John time to blank his computer screen if he happened to be writing his novel when someone knocked. Daniel took it as a good omen, and walked in confidently at John’s invitation.

“What’s got you so fired up about this story that you’re emailing me over the weekend?” was Kingston’s opening salvo. Daniel would have to make his answer good.

“John, you know my readers are more interested in Egyptology than any other archaeological subject, right?”

“Yes, so? That’s kind of a dead subject.”

Daniel gave the obligatory chuckle at John’s witticism. “Maybe not so dead. I came across an article in ArchaeoScience Journal that raises questions about the construction of the pyramids, specifically the Great Pyramid of Giza. It’s pretty compelling stuff.”

“Oh, save me, you aren’t going to claim that aliens built it, are you?”

“I’m not enough of a crackpot to claim that. I’m not going to claim that anyone in particular built it. But I think there’s plenty of evidence that it couldn’t have happened as scholars are currently claiming. Can I show you some of the details?”

“Whatever. But don’t waste my time.”

“Sure, John. Okay, first, you already know that I’ve studied the engineering, and discovered that it’s a pretty well-accepted fact that we couldn’t even build that thing now, with modern engineering techniques. The ideas that scholars accept as fact are ludicrous. I want to know why they keep up the smokescreen. Then, the design is unique. It’s the only one in Egypt that has passages going up and down both, and the only one that has a Grand Gallery.”

“So?” John interrupted. “Maybe Cheops had a more creative interior designer?”

Another obligatory laugh, and then Daniel went on. “How about this, then? What it doesn’t contain, and never has from the time of modern study, is a mummy or any other type of human remains. Nor are there any hieroglyphics, paintings or cartouches with the pharaoh’s name. So, why was it built in the first place? All those pharaohs built their tombs to have some sort of everlasting life.”

Now, John began to look intrigued. “That is a good question, and it’s something I didn’t know before.”

About mid-way in the presentation, the facts and the concept as Daniel slanted it caught Kingston’s imagination and he began to pose the questions exactly as Daniel intended. Daniel started making the assumptive close.

“When will you want me to start on the research? I figure I can get enough for the first couple of articles by the end of the month, and have it wrapped up by the end of May for June publication.”

“Oh, come on, Daniel, you can work faster than that. This is an important story, and I don’t want you to sit on it. Drop everything else and work on this. Let me know if you need my advice on anything. And show me what you’ve got, say, every couple of days. I want to guide my story from the beginning, so it turns out right.”

Daniel’s face had an earnest expression as he shook Kingston’s hand, thanked him and eagerly agreed to keep him informed. But inside, his grin was ear to ear. He hadn’t lost his touch; John was putty in his hands.

What Daniel hadn’t counted on was interference. He hadn’t been back at his desk for more than twenty minutes and was still organizing his to-do list, when Kingston’s instant message popped up on his screen. “See me immediately.”

What was this? Had Kingston changed his mind so soon? Daniel grumbled under his breath, but got up immediately to return to John’s office.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, but this won’t take long. I’ve arranged for you to meet with an old friend, Professor Allan Barry. He has agreed to take a look at the research you’ve done so far. If it turns out you’ve done a thorough job, he’ll help by making sure what you write has scientific merit, all the proper documentation, that sort of thing. Maybe even appoint someone to work with you on the research. If you leave now, you can be there by afternoon. Take your time, spend the night and come back tomorrow.

Daniel was bewildered. Take his time, spend the night? Where was he going?

“Thanks, John. But who is Prof. Barry?”

“Can’t believe you don’t know, and you call yourself an archaeology journalist! Professor Allan Barry is the director of the Joukowsky Institute for Archaeology and the Ancient World, in Providence, Rhode Island. Surely you know of it.”

“Oh, yes sir, of course. But I didn’t recognize the director’s name. My bad.”

“Well, get going! You don’t have all day.”

Daniel moved with alacrity. He had been a little resentful that Kingston had made this move without consulting him, but the more he considered it, the more he agreed. It would be great if his articles had the rigor of a scientific paper. The last thing he wanted was to stir up controversy, and it wouldn’t hurt to have a research assistant, either.

Daniel signed out of his workstation and raced home to grab a change of clothes and a bite to eat before hitting the road for the three-hour drive by one p.m. He would make it easily in time to meet with Prof. Barry this afternoon, and would leave his laptop with the research and presentation for the man to examine overnight. With any luck, by mid-morning tomorrow he’d be heading back to the city, with Prof. Barry’s blessing and perhaps an assistant to help with the research. Sweet!

~~~

Professor Barry wasn’t at all what Daniel expected, in appearance or demeanor. Based on the name, Daniel had visualized a tall Scot, with red hair and a bluff manner. Instead, Barry was not tall, and was dark of skin and grizzled of hair and beard. Daniel would have pegged him for Jewish or Middle Eastern, if he had seen him before hearing his name. On the other hand, his rumpled suit with suede patches on the elbows fit the stereotype perfectly, as did Barry’s abrupt speech and short manner. Suppressing his curiosity about the anomaly his name represented, Daniel thanked Barry for seeing him.

“Nonsense, John Kingston is an old and valued friend. Anything I can do for him is my pleasure.”

“Thank you, then, in John’s behalf. I assume he told you about the project?”

“A little. Seems you’ve found an intriguing article in ArchaeoScience Journal, correct? And you want to explore it in depth and in layman’s terms for your column in the Times?”

“That’s correct. Did John mention the topic?”

“Something about the construction of the pyramids. You realize this has been argued to death?”

“Yes, sir, but this article brought out all the facts and coincidences that leads to the conclusion that the established theory is not, cannot be, correct.”

“John asked me to keep my mind open, so I’ll hear your evidence.”

As Daniel once again went through his presentation, complete with multimedia-enhanced slides and his well-formed analysis, Barry began to sit forward in his chair and frown at the screen. Once he muttered, “Yes, yes, nothing new here.”

Occasionally, he would hold up his hand and ask a question, halting the slide show. Or, he might ask to stop for a minute and scribble something on a notepad, frowning and muttering under his breath. He seemed to be doing calculations in longhand. In any case, he didn’t explain, merely waved at Daniel to continue the slide show.

At the end of the presentation, Barry peppered Daniel with questions and objections, only a few of which he could answer.

“What makes you think you can prove anything that generations of scholars have failed to prove?”

“I’m not out to prove anything, Prof. Barry. The aim of my articles will be to raise the questions for laypeople.”

“Young man, all this will accomplish is to create controversy. We already have the most logical answers. You’ll have the conspiracy theorists cropping up with that hogwash about aliens again. When you ask unanswerable questions, it leaves gaps. Science hates gaps.”

“Yes, sir, I understand. But, what if it leads to more study, and more plausible answers are found? Surely you can admit that the first question alone, that of transportation and placing of the stones, doesn’t have a believable answer. By my calculations, one of those massive blocks would have to have been placed every five minutes for the pyramid to be built in the twenty years that scholars claim. We can’t even do that now.”

“Er, yes, that does seem to be a valid question.”

“May I show you the original article?”

“I suppose. ArchaeoScience Journal, you say? Hmm, there must be something to it, then.”

“Yes, sir. Otherwise I wouldn’t have paid any attention.”

Prof. Barry turned his scrutiny on Daniel. “No?”

“No, sir. My grandfather is Dr. Nicholas Rossler. Perhaps you’ve heard of him? He taught me where to find information that can be trusted.”

Barry’s bushy eyebrows had risen in surprise. “Nick Rossler is your grandfather?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so? Fine man, fine scholar. Why are you wasting your time with journalism, young man?”

Daniel seized the opportunity. “I don’t have the focus that Grandpa does, sir. I’m interested in archaeology in a general sense. That’s why John thought I’d need the help of someone who could guide my research, I guess. He’s very interested in this story, and because he’ll receive much of the credit when it’s published, he wants it to be right.”

Daniel could not have hit on a more persuasive argument. Barry’s demeanor changed, the frown dissolving, the corners of his mouth turning upward. He appeared to be thinking carefully, nodding as his eyes darted around the room.

“Yes, I suppose it will do no harm to investigate these matters more closely. And I can see that it would be a good idea for someone with professional credentials to oversee your research. I’ll assign someone to the project; however, anything you publish must receive my prior approval.”

Now it was Daniel’s turn to lift his eyebrows. Oversee my research? Receive Barry’s approval? He would have to quash that notion, but his better judgment told him that now was not the time. He would establish the working relationship when he met the person Prof. Barry had in mind. As far as receiving Barry’s approval, he’d let John deal with his friend.

“Thank you very much, sir. I’m sure John will be grateful. When can I expect to hear from your assistant?”

“You’re welcome. I’ll speak with her tomorrow morning first thing. Can you stay to meet her?”

“Oh, yes, John told me to take my time, spend the night if necessary.”

“Splendid. By the way, I wouldn’t call Dr. Clarke my assistant if I were you. She is a brilliant researcher. In fact, she may not think much of this assignment, but I’ll deal with that. Where are you staying?”

“I’m at the Renaissance Providence downtown.”

“Expect Dr. Clarke’s call, say around ten a.m.?”

“Yes, sir, that will be fine.”

After Daniel left, Barry left a message for Dr. Clarke to see him as soon as possible, then dialed again, this time long-distance to Langley, VA. After several rings, a voice mail greeting barked nothing more than “Leave a message.”

He was ready. “It’s Barry. We have another one. Journalist researching the Great Pyramid, doubt if anything will come of it but will monitor. Will send details on journalist and the babysitter I assign him later.”