Proof of Atlantis: Records from the Past

By Charles L. Harris

Plato had written about the mythical continent of Atlantis and his writings indicated the people of Atlantis had buried the records of their continent and culture in several places in the world when they learned their continent was about to be destroyed. Proof of Atlantis is an action adventure about a construction manager, Matt McKay, who finds these long lost records in the foothills of the Himalayas and realizes they contains knowledge more advanced than our own. Devious people in the United States, Russian and Chinese Governments learn of his discover and each set out to take the records from him. Matt soon finds himself running for his life; having to overcome one deadly obstacle after another. He smuggles the records half way around the world before his flight comes to a head on an island not far where the odyssey of the records had began some seven thousand years before.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 24, 2009
• ISBN: 9781450003162

Charles L. Harris

Charles L. Harris, hails from south Texas, his career as a construction manager has taken him around the world and back. Using his travels as backdrops for his literary characters and stories, he was able to bring culture and history to life in his last Novel, Proof of Atlantis, Records from the Past; but in his latest novel, Visions of Evil, The Whitehouse Conspiracy, he goes back to his single digit years where he live on what had been an old slave Plantation in South Texas. Harris has three children (two sons, a daughter), six grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. He lives on a lake house in South Central Texas where writes, spoils grandchildren and raises miniature breeds of donkeys.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

It was 2006. The morning fog was heavy, almost a light mist, as Teece sat on a rock outcropping, sipping a cup of hot tea. He was a small man, even for a Nepali, and he pulled his well-worn jacket tight against his skinny frame. The collar was turned up, his wool cap pulled low over his eyes to keep out the chill of the damp mountain air.

Teece didn’t mind the cold. He enjoyed bringing his herd to the grassy slopes at the foothills of the Himalayas; here he could watch the sun rise and listen to the roar of the Bhote Koshi River far below. It was peaceful here, and he could forget the day-to-day problems and his duties as village chief.

In the distance, he could see the ridge that overlooked the cursed valley. There was an ancient legend, passed down from one generation to another, that told the gods placed a curse on the valley for reasons long forgotten. The stories claimed that those who ignored the curse suffered terrible illness, madness, and even death. Consequently, a sizeable portion of the remote mountainside lay abandoned. The Nepalis who lived nearby feared coming here because they were afraid of getting the sickness; only the foolish dared to challenge the gods.

The rainy season was late this year, and grass for his animals to graze was scarce. Hence Teece had brought his herd to the one place he knew the grass would be lush and plentiful. He respected the legend of the curse, but he had grazed his herd close to the valley on several occasions and had never suffered from any illness.

Teece finished his first cup of tea and decided to make another when he heard a deep rolling and rumbling sound from the mountain above. He looked up to see rocks racing down the mountain. His first reaction was the care of his animals, but the rockslide was between him and where they were grazing. Seeing he could do nothing to help, he quickly sought refuge under a rock ledge nearby and prayed.

While he waited for the rocks to stop crashing down the mountain, his only thoughts were that the curse of the valley had come to kill him, or, at the very least, let him know he had come to a place where he was not welcome.

It seemed to take forever for the rockslide to stop. When the thundering sound of falling rock ceased, an eerie silence descended on the mountain. Even the many birds one normally heard this time of morning were quiet.

The dust from the rockslide was slowly floating down the mountainside, and when Teece finally felt it was safe, he peered out from the rock ledge hoping to see his animals safe. He could see only three of the twenty-seven goats he had brought up the mountain less than an hour before. Teece was frantic. His first thought was that he had lost the livelihood his family depended on to survive. He rushed to the edge of the cliff to see how many of his animals had been swept over the side and killed.

But no animals were within sight.

Disoriented, Teece frantically rushed back down the trail he had used to get to the valley. Suddenly remembering his goats had been grazing on the other side of the rockslide, he stopped and gazed in the direction he had last seen them. He stood motionless, staring at the ridge that marked the entrance to the cursed valley, and his heart sank.

Teece slowly walked toward the ridge, praying to the gods for forgiveness for any wrongdoing he had committed that brought on the rage of the mountain. He asked that his animals be spared. When Teece peered over the ridge, his worst fears were realized. Below, he could see his animals scattered, scared, and moving about with no sense of direction. A quick count told him two were missing. He stood on the ridge and carefully recounted and determined a mother and her half-grown offspring were nowhere to be seen. One animal staggered aimlessly in a circle with green foam coming from its mouth, it fell, only to struggle to its feet and fall again. The animal was acting in the same way he had heard people acted when they had not heeded the gods and had ventured into the valley.

Afraid of going to retrieve his animals, Teece stood on the ridge overlooking the valley calling them to come to him. They either did not hear or refused to obey. He spent the rest of his day pacing the ridge, calling his animals, and searching for a solution to his problem, but nothing he tried worked.

Like most Nepalis, his animals were trained to return home at the end of the day; today, they showed no signs of leaving the valley. He couldn’t afford to lose his herd, and leaving them on the mountain to fend for themselves was an invitation for a tiger to destroy his main source of income. As the sun began to slip behind the mountaintop, he had no choice but to pray to the gods to protect and forgive him. Satisfied he had done all he could do to protect himself, he cautiously made his way into the forbidden valley.

As Teece descended to where his animals were grazing, he felt none of the illness he expected, and in fact, the opposite was true. Instead, he felt a calmness come over him and a sense of overpowering energy.

It took him an hour to round up the disoriented animals and drive them to safety. The one that had become sick lay motionless on the ground, and at first, he thought she was dead. On closer examination, he discovered she was alive but too sick and weak to move. Noting the sick animal was the one that always caused trouble with the other animals and was constantly breaking out of its pen, he carried her to where the rest of the herd was grazing safely just out of the valley. The curse was paying the animal back for its bad behavior, Teece thought to himself.

While he was herding his animals to safety, he heard the bleating of the young goat that was missing. After retrieving the sick animal and having shown no signs of illness himself, he returned deeper into the valley to search for the missing mother and her kid.

Teece found the mother goat standing on the side of the mountain, looking at her offspring on a narrow rock ledge just below. The young goat’s left front leg was wedged between two rocks, and it was unable to free itself. Teece carefully climbed down to the ledge, moved the large rock to free the animal, and lifted the young goat to a point where it could scramble back to its mother.

As Teece was about to climb from the ledge, he noticed an opening that had been exposed when he had moved the rock to free the goat. He moved several smaller rocks and discovered an opening that continued on into the mountain.

Teece hurriedly made a torch from dry grass, lit it, and crawled through the opening and into the tunnel beyond. When he reached a point where the tunnel was too narrow, he tossed his torch ahead of him as far as he could. Seeing that the passageway just ahead became much wider, Teece was amazed to see the tunnel open into a large cavern that contained rows of light blue boxes stacked from floor to ceiling.

He sat in the dark tunnel trying to figure out what he should do next. With the day quickly coming to an end, and not having tools to widen the tunnel, he had no choice but to return to the ledge and make his way out of the valley.

What he first thought was an act of the gods to punish him might, in fact, be an act of the gods on his behalf. Tomorrow, he would know for sure. Tomorrow, he and his son would return to the mountain with tools and open the tunnel so he could see what was in the boxes. But tonight he would pray especially hard to all the gods for their help and guidance; he would need to be in the favor of all the gods for this to have a happy ending.

He had no way of knowing if what he found had great value, but he figured, even if the boxes were empty, they should be worth something. But who would go to the trouble of hiding empty boxes in a mountain? They had to have something inside.

And maybe, there had never been a curse at all; maybe, it was only a rumor that had grown larger and more evil with each telling. People were reported to have gotten sick, but he had to admit he had never seen one. Maybe the gods lifted the curse, or maybe its effect just faded with time. Although he felt no illness himself, the animal he was carrying was obviously sick from something.

Teece began to lay out a plan of action in his mind. First, he had to figure out a way of moving the boxes off the mountain without being seen. This would not be easy because Nepalis were traditionally nosy people. They always wanted to know what those around them were doing and why. Questions would surely be asked if they saw that he suddenly had money, and it would be even worse if someone were to see him going and coming from the cursed valley.

He would also have to establish the value of the boxes and a way to sell them without the government finding out. This would be tricky. He had often heard of men who found things in the mountains and informed the authorities; they were most always left with nothing. Others had tried to keep what they found; when a friend had learned of that good fortune, that person became jealous and turned them over to the authorities. He later learned the men had to spend years in jail, causing their families great difficulty.

He was really just a farmer and goat herder, like his father and grandfather before him, and his knowledge of such matters was limited. He needed to open the boxes and see what they contained, if anything; he would then seek advice from someone he could trust, someone who knew things.

By the time he reached his home on the banks of the Bhote Koshi River, Teece knew there was only one person he could trust with his secret. One person that he knew was a good man and possessed the worldly knowledge to know things that would solve his problems. Now, if he could convince this good man to help him.

CHAPTER 2

It was late in the day as Matt McKay stepped from the Toyota Land Cruiser in the tiny village of Chaku. He stood for a moment and watched as the villagers stopped what they were doing and slowly moved toward his parked vehicle.

The arrival of an American always meant something important was happening. When they saw the village chief hurry to meet the American, it could only mean one of two things—there was a problem the big American had come to address or the village chief was trying to get money from the American through some scheme he had concocted. The hope of every village chief was to persuade the Americans to spend money on village improvements. The preferred time was just before the election of a village chief for the next two years.

Matt knew Teece. The village chief was no different than the others. He was a typical Nepali, a small thin man of an age that was hard for Matt to determine. He stood no more than five-foot-two, and Matt’s tall, slim, six-foot-three-inch frame towered over him.

Baji, Matt’s translator, hurried around the Land Cruiser to where Matt and Teece were standing to translate the greetings of the two men. Even though Matt was irritated he had been summoned to the village rather than the chief coming to his office, as was the custom, he maintained his composure and greeted Teece warmly. After the formalities of the introduction, Matt pressured Baji to find out why the village chief needed to see him so urgently.

Baji explained that Teece knew Mr. Matt was a busy man and thanked him for taking time from his many duties as project manager of the new hydro power plant to come speak with him about a matter of much importance. All the time, Teece was nervously looking at the villagers as they slowly moved closer and closer to hear what was being said. It was obvious Teece was uncomfortable with the villagers’ presence and whispered to Baji that they must speak inside.

Outside, there are too many ears, and it is important that others do not hear what he has to say, Baji relayed to Matt.

This surprised Matt. The Nepali government was corrupt, not to be trusted at any level, including the village chiefs. They usually would want to do their bidding for favors in front of as many constituents as possible. This heightened their importance and allowed everyone to see everything was above board and there was no shady business. Matt assumed whatever this village chief wanted, he was trying to hide it from his neighbors, and he began to have mixed feeling about coming here.

When they were inside Teece’s house, and seated on the handmade rug that covered most of the dirt floor, Matt could see Teece beginning to relax, knowing the village eyes were not on him. Matt struggled to readjust his stiff frame into the cross-legged sitting position that he had seen Nepali men much older than himself do with great ease.

With Matt finally seated as comfortably as he was able to, Teece wasted no time as he told of taking his goats to graze on the mountain two days before. He explained about the cursed valley and finding the hidden chamber filled with boxes.

Baji stopped Teece every few minutes to translate what he said and nodded to him to continue.

This is very interesting, Matt said. But what has this got to do with me?

As Baji translated what Matt had asked, Teece held up his hand for Matt to be patient.

Matt hoped he was not going to be asked to do something illegal. He had no desire to spend time in a Nepali jail.

Teece said he had examined several boxes and found they were made of a metal material, but he couldn’t find a latch or a lock or anything that would allow him to open them. He checked their weight and found they were not so heavy that one man couldn’t carry one, but they were too large to get out through the narrow shaft.

Teece said he decided to try to use his hammer to open a box and see what was inside, but it was too small. Instead, he explained, he found a rock and went through the motions of how he had hit the box five, maybe eight, times before he got it open.

Inside, he found neatly packed rows of thin, light blue pieces of metal. To show an estimated size of the tablets, Teece made a measurement with his hand, which Matt assumed to be about eighteen inches by fourteen inches in size. The piece of metal was as thin as a thick piece of paper, strong but thin, he explained, and light in weight. He could not believe how light in weight they were. Each piece of metal contained markings he could not understand, so he decided to bring three back with him in his basket.

You have some of the tablets here? Matt asked as his interest in Teece’s boxes increased.

Teece nodded and carefully picked up an old shirt that had been lying on the carpet beside him, removing a long, flat object wrapped inside. Teece said he thought he had discovered something of great importance and needed help to decide what to do about it. There was no one he could turn to, no one he could trust. He said Nepali people were good at sticking their noses into other peoples’ business, but not so good at keeping secrets because they were all jealous of what others had.

Matt nodded in agreement when Baji translated what Teece had said. The year he had spent in Nepal had allowed him to see this behavior on many occasions, but at this moment, he was as nosy as any Nepali and wanted to grab the tablets from Teece. But, he fought back the urge and patiently waited for Teece to hand him the tablet.

I know you are a good and fair man who will advise me wisely, Teece said as Matt was examining the tablet, hoping to get reassurance for his decision to ask him for help.

Matt carefully took the tablets and began examining them one at a time, laying them on the rug beside him when he finished looking at it. As he laid each tablet down, Baji picked them up and looked them over. When Matt had finished examining all the tablets, he again picked up the first one to reexamine it.

Teece and Baji locked eyes impatiently, waiting for any reaction from Matt. When Baji could no longer stand the suspense, he broke the silence. Boss, what do you think? Matt didn’t answer immediately but picked up a second tablet and studied it alongside the one he was holding. Finally, he placed the two tablets beside the third on the rug.

I would imagine these tablets are from a religious order or cult of some kind, Matt said and caught a glance of disagreement between Baji and Teece. Do you recognize the writing on the tablets?

Teece and Baji both shook their heads.

You don’t recognize these as being from a Nepali religion? Matt pressed.

It is not Hindu or Buddhist, Baji assured him, repeating to Teece what Matt had asked.

Teece shook his head. They are not from a religion we know, Baji translated.

Maybe it’s a very old religion, one that no one follows nowadays, Matt suggested.

Baji translated what Matt asked and Teece shrugged. I have never heard of such a religion. In Nepal, we do not throw religions away, Teece informed him with confidence. Go to Kathmandu and look around and you will find all religions that were ever in Nepal are still there. Maybe, they are not large, and maybe only a few people still believe, but they are not thrown away to be forgotten.

Matt listened to Baji’s translation and had to agree there were a lot of religions in Kathmandu, some of which he had never heard of. But he didn’t know where else to go with this. He picked up a tablet and studied it again for several minutes. Do you realize how much trouble someone went through to make and hide these? What is written on these was very important to someone.

Boss, this may be true, but it is not a religion we have ever heard of. Maybe it is a Christian religion that decided to hide them in Nepal? Baji suggested.

Matt thought for a moment. It could be, but I don’t think so. The writing is not Western or from the Mediterranean area, that’s where the Christian religions first started. I studied sociology and archeology in college, and I’ve never seen this writing before.

But there are a lot of different Christian religions, Baji reminded Matt. Before Matt could answer, Baji added, But, why does it have to be a religion? Maybe it’s from an ancient people that have long since gone away.

Maybe these are political records, Matt suggested.

In Nepal, you would have heard of them if that were true. Like Teece said, our people don’t throw anything away, but this is a very spiritual place. Many people have come from all over to worship in Nepal, Baji said. Anyone could have left these.

Maybe they are from China. Maybe one of their warlords or a ruler of some long-forgotten kingdom buried them here, Matt speculated, fishing for anything that made sense.

Baji shook his head. I studied at the University at Beijing and have studied their culture as far back as they have records. The writing is not Chinese; maybe somewhere else, but not China.

Well, it is a damn cinch it came from somewhere because they didn’t just grow there, Matt bemused.

Baji and Teece chuckled at Matt’s comment and sat in silence staring blankly at the tablets lying on the rug.

Finally, Teece straightened himself. Who can I sell them to and what do you think they are worth?

That could be dangerous, Matt reminded him. You remember several men were put in prison a few months ago for selling religious artifacts?

Teece knew they were not from a religion, but it would make little difference. The people of the government would do as Mr. Matt had said. But he hoped to find out what they were and how best to turn them into money. He picked up one of the tablets and looked it over. What should I do with them?

Matt shrugged his shoulders. I’m afraid I can’t help. If I tell you to sell them, you may go to jail and I would feel bad. If I tell you to turn them over to the authorities, you may end up with nothing and I would feel bad.

Disgusted, Teece flung the tablet to the floor, bending the corner. Before he could pick it up, the corner straightened out, leaving no sign of the damage.

Matt stared it in disbelief. He slowly reached down, picked up the tablet and bent it with his hand, watching as it straightened itself out. It has memory! he declared in amazement as he bent the tablet again and again and watched it return to its original shape.

Teece shrugged like it was no big thing. You bend it, and it goes back same like before. I tried many times to bend one, but it always goes back same, same like new. He watched Matt study the tablet. Is that so important?

Matt didn’t answer. He was too busy trying to scratch the metal, but he couldn’t. He examined it for rust and found none. He sat back and thought about the different alloys of metals, trying to remember any that had the properties of the tablets; he could not think of any. He didn’t even know any metals that came close.

Matt had heard that NASA had developed metals with strange properties, but they were probably classified, and he doubted they would store them in a mountain in Nepal, regardless of what their special properties were. This could use some serious research, Matt thought to himself. He was sure there was a good explanation for the origin of the tablets, but the metal was different, and he didn’t have a clue. He would like to have Rusty Atkins, his mechanical engineer, check it out. Rusty was a tinkerer who constantly amazed Matt with his ability to use common sense to solve complex problems.

I have a metallurgist coming in from Kathmandu to check some stainless flanges on the water system, Matt informed them. The technician is to be onsite Friday; he could look at the tablets and see what he thought they were made of.

Matt was uncomfortable asking to take one of the tablets. His greatest concern was that the government would find out he had a metal tablet from a cave in the mountains. They wouldn’t take kindly to an American being in possession of what they would consider a national artifact.

Teece picked up a tablet and handed it to Matt. You take. Matt took the tablet, but before he could say anything Teece picked up the other two tablets and gave them to Matt. Take these too. I have boxes in the mountain.

Matt asked Teece not to sell any of the tablets until he could run some tests and see what he could find out about them. He also recommended that Teece keep this to himself until he heard back from him. It may be a week, maybe two, before he could find out anything, but as soon as he did, he promised to get back to him.

When Baji translated what Matt had said Teece grabbed Matt’s hand and shook it vigorously. I knew I had done the right thing in seeking out Mr. Matt’s help, Teece said. He is a good man and wise about worldly things.

Matt tried to downplay the possibility that he could be of any help, but Teece refused to hear anything more.

Outside, Matt found Chandra, his driver, sitting in the car. The drive back to the project was quiet. Chandra busied himself missing potholes in the dirt road. Baji sensed that Matt needed to think about the meeting and sat quietly during the journey. This gave Matt time to reflect on what he just experienced.

Logic told him the tablets were from an ancient Nepali culture, possibly religious. But if that were the case, the tablet material should have come from the area and been made from stone-inlaid ceramics. Maybe even gold or silver if they were from a wealthy religion. His mind raced to make sense of it all, to find a logical answer, but there was nothing that made sense. It was all too baffling, and he needed a drink.

By the time he arrived back at the construction project camp, Matt decided there were two things he could do. One, he could have the metallurgist take a look at the tablets and see if he could shed some light on their origin.

Second, he could scan the markings on the tablets and e-mail them to Skets Wilson, a friend and a professor at the University of Texas. He and Skets had grown up together in the same little town in south Texas. Maybe he could get the language department and the theology department to check out the writings on the tablets. One of these departments should be able to come up with something. If they couldn’t, what was in the cave would be a real mystery.

Back at camp, while Baji was busy scanning the tablets, Matt wrote an e-mail to Skets explaining what he would like him to do. He left out how he had come by the tablets and just said a Nepali asked for his help in identifying the origin of the language.

About midnight, Baji went to his room in the temporary apartment Matt had built for the drivers and interpreters. In his own apartment, Matt took a shower and lay down. He tried to sleep, but the mystery of the plates dominated his thoughts, leaving him with more questions than answers. After tossing and turning for over an hour, the fatigue of the day overcame his curiosity about the tablets and he slipped into a fitful sleep.

CHAPTER 3

Everyone but Tango had finished breakfast when Matt arrived in the dining room the next morning. Rusty Atkins was arguing with Jon, the electrical superintendent, over who would win the upcoming NASCAR race. When Matt entered the room, Rusty let the argument drop, picked up his cup of coffee, and moved to a table in the far corner of the room where he and Matt usually sat.

Rusty and Matt were cut from the same cloth and were longtime friends. Both were from Texas, and both had struggled to get where they were, traveling from one overseas project to another for years. Rusty’s appearance was deceiving—a well-built, distinguished-looking gentleman, a little over five-feet-ten inches with a head of white hair and the striking good looks of a movie star. He had an eye for the ladies, and they were usually quick to respond to his laidback Southern charm. Rusty was a mechanical engineer, but what made him valuable was his ability to take what was available and use it to solve a problem when the right parts were not available.

Even if Rusty couldn’t have done all these things, Matt would still have him on his projects because he was just damn entertaining to be around; on a project in the backwaters of the world, you needed someone to laugh with. These brief moments of humor or good natured bantering were often the only thing that kept them sane.

The house girls were clearing the dining room table when Tango stumbled in, looking like a poster child for an Alcoholics Anonymous add. He asked one of the house girls for a cup of coffee and slumped into a chair. She politely acknowledged his request, but once his back was turned, she made a face as she continued into the kitchen to get his coffee.

Besides being a party animal, Tango was not the neatest person, and the girls were constantly cleaning up the mess from his previous night’s party. The girls hated to work his place, and there was always a fight over whose turn it was to go into the place of evil, as they referred to Tango’s bungalow.

On one occasion, they refused to clean his bungalow, Matt remembered. That had been the morning they found a monkey Tango had brought home from a wild party he had attended the night before. The monkey was running loose in his bungalow. The fact that the furry creature wasn’t house trained, and in a very bad mood with a hangover, was more than the girls cared to deal with.

To get his bungalow cleaned, Tango had to send three laborers from his crews to catch the monkey, clean up the mess, and repair the damage. The house girls still refused to clean his bungalow for three weeks. Tango finally made peace by agreeing to buy them all new dresses. It was a cost that went beyond his original estimate when the house girls realized they had Tango on the ropes and threatened to continue the boycott unless new shoes and matching scarves were included in the deal. Tango finally relented, and the girls went back to squabbling over whose turn it was to clean the place of evil. Tango had pulled other stunts since that displeased the girls, but not to the extent where they rebelled, and none that included bringing home intoxicated wildlife.

Baji hurried into the dining room and up to where Matt and Rusty sat drinking coffee. Boss, there’s been an accident just over the border, and several people have been killed. The Chinese interpreter come to tell me his boss, Mr. Tien, will be maybe fifteen minutes late for the morning meeting.

Were any of the people from the project involved in the accident? Matt questioned.

I don’t think so, Boss. Just some Chinese army officers, Baji explained. Their car ran off the road and fall down the mountain. All in the car were killed. The Chinese interpreter told me the men were friends of Mr. Tien and that they were on their way here to see him and tour the project when they fall down the mountain.

Matt wasn’t fond of the Chinese military because they were backing the Maoist terrorists that were trying to overthrow the Nepali government. So he felt little sympathy for what happened to them. Still, he liked Mr. Tien, the Chinese project manager. When Matt first took over the project, it was Mr. Tien who recommended he conduct the daily meetings somewhere besides the formal conference room. Since then, the morning meetings had been held in the American’s dining room. It was a place where the Chinese managers were invited to parties on occasions, and they felt comfortable there. The exchange of information was as free as could be expected when working with a Communist company.

The conference room in the front office was reserved for the weekly meeting and any other gathering with the Chinese contractor’s staff that required harsh words; that was where Matt raised his voice over missed schedules and broken promises. Both the schedules and the promises were given freely by the Chinese, but rarely kept. That was the primary reason the project was a year behind schedule and millions of dollars in the red.

Matt sent word back by Baji to tell the Chinese that because of the incident in Tibet, the morning meeting would be canceled. He then held a quick meeting with his men so he would know where they would be concentrating their efforts that day. When the meeting was over, the men began making their way out of the dining room, searching for drivers and interpreters.

Tango made his way into the kitchen to get the girls to fix him a quick snack before heading out to check on his crews. He oversaw the tunnel that would carry the water from the dam to the powerhouse. Surprisingly, the tunnel was one of the few areas that had shown a dramatic increase in production since Matt and his team had taken over. Matt attributed this to Tango’s hands-on management style and a firm mixture of playful praise and strict discipline.

Matt refilled his coffee cup and whispered to Rusty, asking his friend to meet him in his bungalow.

Rusty and Matt had known one another long enough to have built an unspoken trust with each other. Matt didn’t tell Rusty why he wanted to speak to him; Rusty knew it had to be something important or Matt would have spoken to him while they drank coffee on the front porch, like they did on most mornings.

The house girls were busy cleaning, giggling like schoolgirls as they worked, when Matt and Rusty arrived at the bungalow. From where he was standing, Matt could see the tablets wrapped in the old shirt under his bed where he had left them. Maybe he should have done a better job of hiding them but the house girls were not known for cleaning in corners or under beds, so he felt they would be safe for the time being. Even if they had found them, he didn’t think they would know what the tablets were if Baji and Teece didn’t. But he also knew nothing was secret around the camp. When something new or strange showed up in one of the American’s bungalows, it quickly became a hot topic of conversation for the staff.

Matt dismissed the girls, telling them to come back later to clean. He told them to have Baji come to his bungalow when he returned from the Chinese camp. They didn’t question why he was sending them away, but he knew they would talk about it amongst themselves when they were alone.

Once the girls were gone, Matt took the tablets from under his bed and showed them to Rusty. Rusty inspected each one without comment, but Matt knew him well enough to know his mind was racing as he tried to identify what he was holding.

A moment later, they heard someone coming and Matt motioned for Rusty to hide the tablets. Rusty took them to the bathroom, stepped inside, and closed the door. As soon as Matt saw it was Baji, he shouted to Rusty it was okay.

Baji came inside just as Rusty came out of the bathroom. Both Matt and Baji quietly watched Rusty, waiting for his reaction to the tablets. Finally, Matt took one of the tablets, folded it double, and threw it on the floor. Within seconds, the tablet returned to its original shape.

Rusty laughed. All right, now what is it? he said as he picked up the tablet and continued to examine it.

We don’t know. All we know is that it’s nothing anyone has ever seen before. You can’t scratch them, you can’t break them, and we can’t decipher the markings.

Where’d you get ’em? Off a…

Suddenly, Matt heard loud Nepalese voices in a heated argument and motioned for Rusty to stop and go back to the bathroom.

Baji hurried to check the window to see what was going on.

They’re just talking about who has to clean to Mr. Tango’s bungalow, Baji reported with the laugh. Same as always—no one wants to be the one to clean his place.

That should keep them busy for a while, Matt chuckled.

Rusty returned to the living room. If you want me to figure this out for you, I’m going to have to stop hiding in the bathroom. He sat down on the arm of an overstuffed chair.

Matt closed the front door and locked it before he began giving Rusty an account of what he was told the night before. After finishing, Matt asked Rusty to have the metallurgist who was due in from Kathmandu to check the tablets. More for Baji’s benefit than Rusty’s, Matt cautioned about the need for secrecy. Teece wanted to sell the tablets, but if word got out, he was sure to have problems with the authorities.

Two days went by quickly. Matt was back to solving the variety of problems that went with running a project in a foreign country. The police captain who ran the local station had asked to borrow a car because his was in the shop. The captain’s car spent as much time in the shop as it did on the road, and he always came to Matt to borrow a car and driver when his wasn’t working. Matt tried to keep the police happy. In return, the captain helped him out with any local problems; the arrangement worked out to the benefit of both.

The most serious problem he had to address was a cement truck that had run off the road and plunged into the Bhote Koshi River. The Chinese accident report stated the driver had swerved to miss a Nepali child, skidded off the road, and landed upside down in the river two hundred feet below. Matt soon learned through the Nepali grapevine, a loosely organized group of busybodies run by SbiTri, his head housekeeper, that a cook was driving when the accident occurred. The Chinese cook wanted to learn how to drive, so he paid someone to have the driver of a cement truck teach him. During their first outing, the cook miscalculated a curve in the road and went over the cliff. The teacher and student jumped from the truck and sustained minor injuries, but the $65,000 truck was destroyed.

Matt was tired of the problems of the day, so he skipped the usual after-dinner drink with the guys and went directly to his bungalow. He fixed himself a drink, slumped into the overstuffed chair, and went though his e-mails, hoping to find something from Skets. But, there was nothing. He had a couple more drinks, a hot shower, and called it a night.

CHAPTER 4

Late on the third day, Matt was resolving an issue about which driver could have time off during an upcoming religious festival when he noticed Rusty and the metallurgist pushing their way into his outer office. He called the kitchen and ordered coffee for three, and quickly resolved the drivers’ problems. Rusty and the metallurgist stepped in his office as the last driver was leaving Matt’s office. After Rusty introduced Matt to Tony Whiteside, the metallurgist, he closed the door and everyone took a seat.

Tony was a tall, skinny young man from Britain who wore a headband, a long ponytail, and clothes that looked as though they were throwbacks from the sixties. If he was trying for the laidback hippie look, he was succeeding.

Tony immediately wanted to talk about the tablets, but Matt held up his hand for him to wait when there was a knock on the door and SabiTri entered. No one spoke as she began serving coffee, but Matt excused SabiTri and Rusty took the tray of coffee. The room remained silent as the three men waited for SabiTri to leave.

It was obvious she was interested in what was going on, but she said nothing as she withdrew. Rusty followed her to the door and started to close it but noticed that SabiTri was pretending to straighten up things in the outer office. When she saw Rusty watching her, she quickly replaced the stack of papers and hurried out of the building.

Satisfied they were alone, Rusty took the tablets from a canvas bag and handed them to Matt. Tony handed Matt the analyst report on the tablets, and Matt laid them on his desk and began reading. He scanned the list of known elements Tony had tried to identify—gold, tin, copper, silver, iron. The list went on, and beside each element was written None present.

Matt looked at the two men. Both had blank looks on their faces. He read the report again and looked over his glasses. You mean to tell me none of the known elements are present in these things?

If my machine can’t pick it up, it’s not supposed to exist, Tony insisted.

Well, so much for that assumption, Matt said as he picked up a tablet and held it out to Tony. I assure you this thing is made out of something because I’m holding it in my hand.

That may be, but it’s not from any known material, Tony said as he squirmed in his chair. No one has ever discovered such a material.

Someone did, Matt continued.

I don’t understand it, Tony persisted. My machine has never been wrong. I calibrated it three times, once before we started and twice after I got these readings. They all came out the same. The other tests are in my briefcase. I can show them to you.

He turned to Rusty, looking for vindication. He was there. He saw me do it. Tell him I didn’t screw up, Tony insisted.

Before Rusty could respond, Matt spoke. I believe you, he assured the young Englishman.

We even tried to cut it with a saw, Rusty said. But we couldn’t. We tried a cutting torch, no luck. Whatever it is, it’s tough stuff, and the cutting torch didn’t even scorch it.

I don’t know what kind of metal you have, but whatever it is, it’s unknown, Tony assured him. And that’s a fact.

You sure? Matt asked, astonished at what the Englishmen just told them

Absolutely. We just paid ninety thousand for state-of-the-art equipment. It can pick up one thousandth of a percent of anything. Whatever it is, it must have come from outer space.

Matt gave Rusty a quick glance and found him looking back with a smug grin on his face. Tony caught the exchange and froze.

That’s it, he said barely able to contain himself. You found a crashed spaceship, just like in Roswell. You found a spaceship. He began jumping around the room. When can I see it? I can test the whole thing.

Matt had to laugh, not so much at Tony’s assumption, but at the fact he and Rusty hadn’t thought of it before.

No, it was not from a spaceship, he assured Tony.

But it was obvious the young Englishman didn’t believe him. "Come on, man, let me in on this