Schiller looked glumly at the President. "A thousand people will be swarming over the place. I suggest you order out a military force to secure the area."
"Julius is right, Mr. President," said Nichols. "Treasure hunters will dig those hills to pieces if they're not stopped."
The President nodded. "Alright, Dale. Open a Wx to General Metcalf of the Joint Chiefs."
Nichols quickly left the table and entered the study, which was manned by Secret Service and White House communications technicians.
"I strongly advise we clamp a lid on the entire operation said Wismer tensely. "We should also spread a story that the discovery is a hoax."
"Not a good idea, Mr. President," counseled Schiller wisely. "Your predecessors found out the hard way; it doesn't pay to lie to the American people. The news media would smell a coverup and chew you to bits."
"I'll side with Julius," said Sandecker. "Close off the area, but go through with the excavation, hiding nothing and keeping the public informed. Believe me, Mr. President, your administration will be far better off putting the Library artifacts out in the open as they're recovered."
The President turned and looked at Wismer. "Sorry, Harold. Perhaps it's all for the best."
"Let us hope so," said Wismer, solemnly staring at the newspaper story.
"I don't want to think about what might happen if that lunatic Topiltzin decides to make an issue of it."
Sam Trinity stood and watched Pitt connect a pair of electrical leads from two metal boxes that sat on the open tailgate of his Jeep. One had a small viewing monitor and the other a wide slot with paper unreeling from it like a flattened tongue.
"A wild-looking rig," observed Trinity. "What do you call it?"
"The fancy name is electromagnetic reflection profiling system for subsurface exploration," Pitt replied as he jacked in the leads to a strange double-humped contraption with four wheels and a push bar. "In plain speech, it's a ground-probing radar unit, the Georadar One, manufactured by the Oyo Corporation."
"I didn't know radar could go through dirt and rock."
"It can provide a good profile down to ten meters, and deep as twenty under ideal conditions."
"How's it work?"
"As the portable probe moves across the land a transmitter sends an electromagnetic pulse into the ground. The reflecting signals are picked up by a receiver and then relayed to the color processor and graphic recorder here in the Jeep. That's pretty much the gist of it."
"Sure you don't want me to tow the mitter buggy?"
"I have better control if I push it by hand."
"What are we looking for?"
"A cavity."
"You mean cavern."
Pitt grinned and shrugged. "Same thing."
Trinity gazed across the ridge of hills they were standing on toward the summit of Gongora Hill, four hundred meters away. "Why are we looking on the backside of the wrong hill?"
"I want to run some tests on the unit before we tackle the prime site,"
Pitt replied vaguely. "Also, there's the slight possibility Venator buried more artifacts someplace else." He paused and waved to Lily, who was peering through a surveyor's transit a short distance away. "We're ready," he shouted.
She waved back and approached, carrying a board with sheet of graph paper tacked to it. "Here's your search grid,! she said, pointing a pencil at the markings on the paper. "The boundary stakes are set in place. I'll walk behind the Jeep and monitor the transmissions. Every twenty meters or so I'll plant a small flag marker so we can keep our lanes straight."
Pitt nodded at her. "Ready, Sam?"
Sam moved behind the steering wheel and started the Jeep's engine. "Say the word."
Pitt turned on the machine and made a few adjustments. Then he took the handle of the probe wagon in his hands and pointed ahead.
Sam dropped the Jeep into drive and crawled forward while Pitt followed, pushing the transmitter-receiver unit five meters from the rear.
A light cloud overcast dulled the sun to a dim yellow ball. 'Thankfully, the day was mild and comfortable. Back and forth, they traveled, dodging rocks and bushes. The morning wore into afternoon as the monotony associated with search and surveys stretched out of all proportion.
They ignored lunch, stopping only at Lily's command as she studied the recordings and made notations.
"A good reading?" Pitt asked, taking a breather, sitting on the back of the tailgate.
"We're on the edge of something that looks interesting," answered Lily, engrossed in the recordings. "Maybe nothing, though. I'll know better after we cover the next two lanes."
Trinity graciously passed around bottles of Mexican Bohemia beer from an ice chest in the Jeep. It was during these short breaks that Pitt noticed a growing number of cars parked at the bottom of Gongord Hill.
people were fanning out over the slope with metal detectors.
Sam noticed too. "A lot of good my 'No Trespassing' signs did," he grumbled. "You'd think they was advertising free
"Where are they coming from?" asked Lily. "How did they find out about the project so soon?"
Trinity peered over the rims of his sunglasses. "Mostly local folks.
Somebody must have blabbed. By this time tomorrow they'll be rolling in from every state in the Union."
The telephone in the Jeep buzzed, and Trinity answered. Then he passed the receiver out the window to Pitt.
"for you. Admiral Sandecker."
Pi" took the call. "Yes, Admiral."
"We've been backstabbed; we're no longer on the excavation," Sandecker informed him. "The President's advisers have talked him into turningng the operation over to the Pentagon.
"It was to be expected, but I'd have preferred the Park Service. They're better equipped for an archaeological dig."
"The White House wants to break into the storage chamber and remove the scrolls for study as quickly as possible. They fear a nasty confrontation with countries that might demand to share in the discovery."
Pitt struck his fist against the roof of the Jeep. "Damnit! They can't go down there and throw everything into trucks as though it was secondhand merchandise. The scrolls could crumble to dust if not handled properly."
"The President has accepted responsibility for the gamble."
"The past has no priority over politics, is that it?"
Not the only problem," said Sandecker tersely. "Some aide inside the White House leaked everything to a foreign wire service. Word is spreading like the plague."
"Crowds are already converging on the site."
"They're not wasting any time."
"How does the government get around the fact the property belongs to Sam?"
"Let's just say Sam is going to get an offer he can't refuse," Sandecker replied angrily. "The President and his cronies have a grand scheme to make a political bonanza out of the information contained in the Library scrolls."
"My father among them?" asked Pitt.
"I'm afraid so."
"Who exactly is taking over?"
"A company of Army engineers from Fort Hood. They and their equipment are being transported by truck. A security force should be dropping in on you any time by helicopter to seal off the perimeters."
Pitt thought a moment, then: "Could you use your clout to arrange for us to hang around?"
"Give me a cover story."
"Except for Hiram Yaeger, Lily and I know more about the search than anyone who will be excavating. Claim we're vital to the project as consultants. Use Lily's academic credentials as a backup. Say we're conducting an archaeological survey for surface artifacts. Say anything, Admiral, but con the White House into allowing us to remain on the site."
"I'll see what I can do," Sandecker said, warming to the idea, although he didn't have the vaguest idea of what Pitt was shooting for. "Harold Wismer should be the only barrier. If the Senator throws his support our way I think we can handle it."
"Let me know if my dad drags his feet. I'll get on him."
"I'll be in touch."