She sighed, feeling Gizelle stir beneath her, as if aware of the unsettled mood that had fallen upon her. She was reaching the head of the bridle trail now, and she needed to stop and look for that sage, and perhaps a sprig or two of wild thyme while she was at it. She put the strange notions in her head aside for a while, and thought about dinner with Kelly. He was probably finishing up the data run at the lab now, and they would meet at her apartment in two hours. Or at least she thought they would. She could never be certain of anything again.
Heisenberg be damned!
5
The dinner was long over and they were settling in with a cup of coffee before Kelly got up the courage to broach the subject with Maeve. He had been working through the data runs from the mission, documenting everything for permanent archival records as they contemplated the termination of the project. Maeve had been the strongest proponent for shutting everything down, with Nordhausen arguing most of the other side, as one might expect. The historians had a taste of the sublime power of the Arch, and they wanted more. Outcomes and Consequences, with the burden of making sure everything turned out all right, knew just how dangerous the technology could be. It was Nordhausen’s curiosity and the excitement of discovery against Maeve’s prudence and reasoned caution—with just the right dash of fear thrown in for good measure. In the end, the uncertainties about the future of the technology had proved a strong argument.
Maeve gathered momentum when she forced them to consider the real implications of the project. How long could they keep something like the Arch a secret? The government was certain to find out what they were doing, if they didn’t already have their suspicions. Once that happened they would certainly move in and take the whole project over as a matter of ‘national security.’ Nothing could be more inimical to the project team leaders than that thought. Once the Feds got their hands on the technology there would be no end to it. The knowledge would certainly leak out, and the resulting proliferation issue would give rise to conflicts that would be stupefying. “Suppose they use the Arch as a weapon,” Maeve had argued. “You know it’s inevitable if we don’t shut this down. One side will try to use the Arch to undo the other, and the result will make Hiroshima and Nagasaki look like child’s play.”
The long silence in the room had choked Nordhausen’s argument to death that night. They would shut it all down. Paul convinced everyone to stick by the cover story that this was all just an effort to poke around in the theoretical physics. They were just playing with particles in the micro-scale of an accelerator scheme—just tickling Heisenberg on the chin. He would write the paper for the physics department and they would all have to find a way to make it worth something to the private investors. He was certain they could squeeze two or three patents out of the whole thing, and these should provide enough reward for the key contributors.
Their lease on the facility had another six months, and that gave them plenty of time to tie up loose ends and plan how they could best put the whole thing quietly behind them. Three months later Kelly was just completing his data packing, scouring the numbers for any red flag that would be difficult to explain to an auditor or an over zealous investigator. The problem seemed innocuous at first. There was something amiss in the power usage curve.
Someone had transposed some numbers, and the more he looked into it the more suspicious he became. It was not long before he uncovered some log entries that put him on to the culprit. Nordhausen had copied some data blocks into the machine two weeks ago, but the information was not in the archives. A check of the logs showed some very spotty deletions, and the file sizes and system clock dates all corresponded to a single evening in early July.
“I checked the sign-in sheets for the lab,” he told Maeve as he stirred his coffee. “There was only one shift reported that weekend because of the Independence Day holiday. Everyone left early on Friday, but a grad student was in for three hours that night, and it was just logged as a routine security call.”
“So, what’s the problem?” Maeve asked. “Was he fishing around in the data?” Her fears got the best of her. “Oh, Kelly, what if this guy was working for the Feds? Do you think he found anything?”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Kelly assured her. “All the vital system files are encrypted.” He shifted in his chair, looking for a more comfortable position as he considered what he was about to say next. “I found one other thing in the accounting log that set me thinking,” he explained.
“The accounting log? I thought that was closed and sent off to the auditors last month?”
“It was, but I was just running checksums on the file blocks on that disk when I noticed something out of place. There was a deposit listed with a revised file date—a rather large deposit.”
“I’m not following you.” Maeve reached for the Arabian steaming pot that she used to serve coffee, and slowly tilted the long golden neck to warm her cup. “Are you saying someone tried to cover up a deposit? A withdrawal is one thing, but a deposit? Do we have an unknown benefactor who might be trying to get in on a share of the patent royalties?”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Kelly. “But it does make sense.” He considered the issue for a moment, then discarded it. “No, on second thought it would not explain the other clues.”
“Clues? You’re making this sound like a mystery novel. What are you getting at?”
Kelly heaved a sigh and decided to let his suspicions tumble out. Still, he was careful in how he approached the matter. After all, he was talking about a mutual friend.
“Did Robert have any further discussion with you about the project after our meeting in June?”
“Nordhausen? No, I haven’t seen him for several weeks now. The last I heard he was yanking on Paul’s arm to fly over to Jordan with him. It seems he has some sentimental attachment to a fossil he claims to have discovered on their first jump.”
“Yes, the Ammonite. He told me about that. In fact, he’s over there right now. I’m surprised he convinced Paul to go. They left last weekend and won’t be back for another ten days. But this is different.” He scratched the back of his neck and Maeve was immediately on guard. She had seen Kelly make that gesture before, and it was always the preamble to something uncomfortable he felt he needed to say.
“There’s something going on here, isn’t there?”
“Well, you said it yourself: why would someone want to try and cover up a deposit to the project bank account? Only a few people could even get access to that account to do such a thing, and it wouldn’t be hard to track down the dates with the auditor.”
“So?”
“So I gave him a call.”
“And?” Maeve let just a pinch of impatience creep into her voice.”
Kelly hesitated for the briefest moment and then let the matter go. “The deposit was made on Monday the 5th of July, and the system file discrepancies were all traced to the 3rd.”
“You mean right after you discovered a grad student had come in on a holiday weekend…” Maeve was starting to piece things together now. “Get to the point, Kelly. Your coffee is getting cold and I’m not letting you touch that pot until you come out with this.” She fixed him with that hazel-eyed stare that had won so many victories for her in the Outcomes Committee.
“The deposit was made by Robert,” he said nonchalantly.
“Nordhausen?” Maeve seemed genuinely surprised. “What do you figure he was up to—salving a guilty conscience for all the money he cost us with research? Lord, he spent nearly ten percent of the budget trying to isolate vectors for the Shakespeare mission, and then the whole thing was trashed at the last minute. Maybe he was feeling guilty.”