Timeline - Michael Crichton [39]
“I am guessing it’s documents,” Marek said. His fingers were twitching in the fluorescent light, he wanted to open it so badly, but he restrained himself. “We’ll take it back with us.”
He slipped it under his arm and headed back toward the entrance. She gave one last look at the earth mound, wondering if she had missed something. But she hadn’t. She swung her light away and—
She stopped.
Out of the corner of her eye, she’d caught a glimpse of something shiny. She turned, looked again. For a moment, she couldn’t find it, but then she did.
It was a small piece of glass, protruding from the earth.
“André?” she said. “I think there’s more.”
:
The glass was thin, and perfectly clear. The edge was curved and smooth, almost modern in its quality. She brushed the dirt away with her fingertips and exposed one lens of an eyeglass.
It was a bifocal lens.
“What is it?” André said, coming back to her.
“You tell me.”
He squinted at it, shone his light very near. His face was so close to the glass, his nose almost touched it. “Where did you find this?” He sounded concerned.
“Right here.”
“Lying in the open, just like now?” His voice was tense, almost accusing.
“No, only the edge was exposed. I cleaned it off.”
“How?”
“With my finger.”
“So: you are telling me it was partly buried?” He sounded like he didn’t believe her.
“Hey, what is this?”
“Just answer, please.”
“No, André. It was mostly buried. Everything but that left edge was buried.”
“I wish you had not touched it.”
“I do, too, if I’d known you were going to act like—”
“This must be explained,” he said. “Turn around.”
“What?”
“Turn around.” He took her by the shoulder, turned her roughly, so she was facing away from him.
“Jesus.” She glanced over her shoulder to see what he was doing. He held his light very close to her backpack and moved over the surface slowly, examining it minutely, then down to her shorts. “Uh, are you going to tell me—”
“Be quiet, please.”
It was a full minute before he finished. “The lower left zip pocket of your pack is open. Did you open it?”
“No.”
“Then it has been open all the time? Ever since you put the pack on?”
“I guess. . ..”
“Did you brush against the wall at any time?”
“I don’t think so.” She had been careful about it, because she hadn’t wanted the wall to break loose.
“Are you sure?” he said.
“For Christ’s sake. No, André, I’m not sure.”
“All right. Now you check me.” He handed her his light, and turned his back to her.
“Check you how?” she said.
“That glass is contamination,” he said. “We have to explain how it got here. Look to see if any part of my pack is open.”
She looked. Nothing was.
“Did you look carefully?”
“Yes, I looked carefully,” she said, annoyed.
“I think you didn’t take enough time.”
“André. I did.”
Marek stared at the earthen mound in front of them. Small pebbles trickled down as he watched. “It could have fallen from one of our packs and then been covered. . ..”
“Yes, I guess it could.”
“If you could clean it with a fingertip, it was not tightly buried. . ..”
“No, no. Very loose.”
“All right. Then somehow, that is the explanation.”
“What is?”
“Somehow, we brought this lens in with us, and while we were working on the oilskin documents, it fell from the pack, and was covered by dirt. Then you saw it, and cleaned it. It is the only explanation.”
“Okay. . ..”
He took out a camera, photographed the glass several times from different distances—very close, then progressively farther back. Only then did he bring out a plastic baggie, lift the glass carefully with tweezers, and drop it into the bag. He brought out a small roll of bubble wrap, encased the bag, sealed it all with tape, and handed the bundle to her. “You bring it out. Please be careful.” He seemed more relaxed. He was being nicer to her.
“Okay,” she said. They climbed the dirt slope again, heading back outside.
:
They were greeted by cheers from the undergraduates, and the oilskin package was handed over to Elsie, who quickly took it back to the farmhouse. Everyone was laughing and smiling, except Chang and Chris Hughes.