Touchstone (Meridian Series) (14 page)

       “Right,”
said Kelly, bent over his laptop. “But I’ll need time on an Arion to solidify
all this.”

       Paul
gave Kelly a curious look. “You sure you’re OK, buddy?”

       “Me?
I’m fine. A complete recovery. Whatever you guys did it was pure genius. I
think you’ve protected my integrity in this
Meridian
for
good, but I’ll tell you, the thought that someone was digging up my grave…”

       “I
had the same feeling,” said Paul. “In fact…This may be my imagination, but I
think I was being followed on my way over to the lab this morning.”

       “Followed?”
Maeve did not like the sound of that.

       “Well,
I may just be paranoid but I stopped for a Bagel and coffee at Peet’s, and
there was this guy in a car parked across the street. He was just sitting
there, smoking a cigarette, but when I came out he started his engine and I
swear he was behind me all the way until I hit
Cyclotron Road
and the outer security shack.”

       “Spooky,”
said Nordhausen.

       “It’s
got me thinking about security issues now,” said Paul. “We’re going to have to
be more careful than ever.”

       “You
think they may have spies right here in
Berkeley
—a permanent operation running here to keep
an eye on us?” Kelly looked up from his laptop, clearly unhappy, as he had been
the first target. “You think they may try a hit or something—on the facilities
here?”

       “I
don’t know,” said Paul, “but consider this: Suppose that guy was an operative
from the future. He could have been verifying something as simple as my arrival
time for this meeting. You said it yourself, Maeve. Most of all the history is
unknown to us. It’s made up of all the little nothings of the hour that
surround the big moments—but that’s where the key Pushpoints are. Hell,
Graves
came back the night of our first planned mission intent on saving Kelly’s life.
All he had to do was step in front of him near an off ramp and delay him for a
few brief seconds. You can’t run an operation like that without knowing a lot
of precise details.”

       “Well,
how would they know about this meeting?” Maeve asked. “We aren’t keeping
minutes anymore, and nothing is hard scheduled.”

       “How
could they know? Just by watching the four of us arrive here, that’s how. That
takes reconnaissance, surveillance, a lot of sleuth work. You follow me?”

       “Right,”
said Nordhausen. “Hell, they ran an operation last night to strike at Kelly. I
suppose it makes sense that they might have someone posted here to do the
equivalent of a damage assessment. You know,” he looked at Maeve now, “to see
what the consequences of their mission were. They ripped off Kelly’s DVD and
thought that would be the end of it, but the Nexus must have still been in
force for a time, because Paul and I were here, and the Arch was spinning at
near 100% after my mission.”

       Paul
smiled. “You’re getting the hang of this at last,” he said. “That’s just
another positive outcome from your illegal mission. Yes, we were in the sphere
of influence of the Arch, and that made us Free Radicals. We got Maeve’s call
about Kelly while we were still in the Nexus, and we resolved to go to Kelly’s
aid then and there. That resolve was enough to put the issue in doubt. Time was
not ready to close the continuum, so she put Kelly into a
Schroedinger’s Box
and we made sure that cat stayed
alive!”

       “So
now they realize their plot against Kelly failed,” Maeve breathed. “They know
we are on to them, and if what you said is true they are looking for
verification on the events surrounding this meeting.”

       “Exactly,”
Paul agreed. “They want clarity. It’s the only way they can plan any
counter-operation against the action we decide to take here.”

       “But
they can’t have spies everywhere,” said Kelly. There’s no one here now but the
four of us, for example, and this is where the real decisions will be made.”

       “True,
but you would be amazed what a good historian can dig up,” said Nordhausen.

       “A
lot of trouble!” Maeve harried him, and the professor waved her off.

       “The
point is well taken,” said Paul. “We leave subtle clues on the world, almost
without a second thought. The phone calls we made last night make an easy
example. There’s a record of them somewhere now, with exact times. The queries
we run on the Internet can be data based.”

       “Not!”
Kelly protested. “I’ve got our systems locked up tighter than a witch’s—” He
caught himself, realizing he was not just out with the boys. “Well you know
what I mean.”

       “OK,
so our systems here are secure,” Paul continued. “Yet every time we spin up the
Arch, Con-Edison knows about it, right? Our damn electric bill could stand as a
record of our operation times. Last night we all signed in at the hospital registration
desk to go visit you, Kelly. And Robert—didn’t I see you swipe a credit card
for the meals we picked up on the way over to your place?”

       “Well
all I had with me were British pounds and shillings left over from my mission,“
said the professor.

       “Fine,
but there’s a record of that transaction—timed and dated. We drive, we buy gas,
groceries, we go through intersections that have been rigged with cameras for
years now. We pass through RFID chip readers every time we go into a store.
Beyond that, we scribble notes and just toss them into trash cans like they
were gone. Hell, we leave fingerprints on everything we touch. A good gumshoe
and a forensics team could learn an incredible amount of detail about our lives
if they set their mind to it. Look how we solved the spatial and temporal
coordinates for the mission to the
Hejaz
? It was just an errant note scribbled on a
receipt. And speaking of Mr. Graves: when he showed up seven years ahead of
schedule what did he do? He holed up in a monastery to leave as little
impression on the
Meridian
as possible. The almost invisible wakes we
leave while going about ordinary activities could be the crucial elements of a
breaching plan.” He halted, out of breath, but it was clear by the look on
their faces that he had made his point.

       “He’s
right,” Maeve concurred. “If we’re going to take on a responsibility like this
we have to start being very careful—very precise.” She looked at Nordhausen.

       “And
get the numbers right,” Robert whispered in Kelly’s direction.

       “Oh,
be quiet, or I’ll send you back to the dinosaurs again!” Kelly smiled, but his
point was made.

       “That
opens another issue,” said Maeve. “Robert thinks he has the temporal and
spatial coordinates figured  out for this trip to Rosetta, but who’s going?”

       There
was a moment of silence and Nordhausen was the first to speak. “I’m the obvious
choice,” he said. “I know the history and I can read the hieroglyphics.”

       “And
you have a strange propensity to wander about and tip brandy with Primes,” Paul
put in.

       “What?”
Maeve was on alert at once.

       “Never
mind,” Nordhausen hushed her, covering his tracks. “He’s just needling me, and
I suppose I have it coming. I can promise you that the events of recent days
have made a profound impression on me. I realize what we’re dealing with now,
Maeve. I’ll be very careful—very precise in anything I do.”

       “Of
course you will,” she said. “Because I’m going too.”

       Nordhausen’s
eyes widened. “What? Who’s going to run the monitors?”

       “I
suppose that gets dumped on me again,” Kelly complained.

       Robert
looked at Maeve and said, “Do you realize what you’re saying?”

       “Of
course I do.”

       “But
we aren’t just going to sit in a gallery and watch a play. This is going to be
dangerous.”

       “Of
course it is.”

       “But
you’re a—”

       “A
woman? Yes, you’ve got that right as well. And don’t try to tell me that there
was no place for a woman in this Milieu, because I know the history as well as
you do.”

       Nordhausen
gave Paul a frustrated look. “Do we really need three people on this
operation?”

       “Three
people? Hey, who’s gonna stay and help me here?” said Kelly.

       Everyone
was looking at Paul, who stood with his arms folded, his brown eyes shifting
from Robert to Maeve to Kelly as he sorted something in his mind. “OK,” he said
at last. “Let me hear the approach scenario.” He wanted to catch up on anything
he may have missed by coming late.

       “Savants,”
said Robert. “We’re going in as members of the philosophers, scientists and
literati that tagged along with Napoleon during his invasion of
Egypt
.”

       “Won’t
the names of all the passengers who booked transport with the French fleet be
in a register?” Paul probed. “Won’t they have assigned quarters, liaisons with
the French Army? How will you pass?”

       “There
were many that landed later, coming over on courier ships and independent
transport.” Maeve explained her rationale. “I’ve done some research on this,
and it solves our language problem. We can say we were Americans visiting
relatives in
France
when we heard the proclamation announcing
the expedition and simply had to return home by way of
Egypt
.”

       “Americans?
Details,” said Paul. “You’ve got to ring true.”

       Maeve
reached into the pocket of her khaki shirt and drew out a paper. “The
Perla,”
she said with a smile. “A Spanish 34-gun frigate out of
Malaga
making a courier and supply run to
Cyprus
for a plantation owner there. She put into
Mallorca
, then ran up to
Toulon
, where they took on six more passengers,
including
three Americans
. They went on to
Sardinia
, and then
Tripoli
, where one of the Americans got off. The
ship hit foul water during a squall in the
Gulf of Sidra
and three passengers were lost, including the last two Americans—swept right
out to sea and never heard from again. The
Perla
continued on and docked
at
Aboukir
Bay
three days before our planned entry date.
She was there very briefly, before fleeing at rumors of the imminent approach
of the British and Turkish fleets. She made her delivery but, nearing home on
her return leg, she was caught in an engagement with a British squadron in the
straits of
Gibraltar
and fled to the
Barbary Coast
, where she sunk. We can pose as those two lost souls, and just
say we got off at
Aboukir
Bay. The ship will be gone. There would be
no one to dispute our story. Who will be the wiser?”

       She
had a pleased expression on her face, and was glad she had taken the time to do
the initial research the previous night, after leaving Kelly at the hospital.
The others were all somewhat surprised to hear this.

       “I
stopped at the University wardrobe on the way in,” she pressed on.

       “So
that’s what you dragged in with that duffel bag!” Nordhausen wagged a finger at
her. “You were planning this all along. You just wanted to hear our arguments.”

       “No,
I was planning it all last night, and I was just trying to make up my mind
whether to let
you
go or not, Robert.”

       “What?”
Nordhausen started to warm up for another argument but he held himself in
check, looking at Paul to referee. “Well,
say
something, Paul!”

       “Alright,”
Paul obliged him. “You want the mission, you’ve got it, Maeve. You’ve obviously
been thinking about this, and the only experience you’ve had in the Arch was
the Spook Job that fixed my position in the library so Kelly could bring me
home. I owe you one. It’s all yours. I’ll stay here and ride shotgun with Kelly
on the consoles.”

       “But—”
Nordhausen had a pleading look on his face.

       “She’s
in,” Paul said firmly. “So get used to it, Robert.”

       “You
mean to say you’d give up on an opportunity to see Napoleon?” The professor
knew that Paul had always admired the little French dictator.

       “See
Napoleon?” Maeve jumped on that notion at once.  “Not on my watch.”

       Nordhausen
sighed heavily. “She won’t let me do anything!”

       “Of
course I won’t.”

       Paul
and Kelly just smiled.

~

       They
were some time working out the details of their planned entry to 1799.
Nordhausen nailed down the situation they were likely to find, and dreamt up a
reason for their need to observe the activities at Rosetta.