the galaxy. He spent a lot of his time trying to find a way to communicate with them.”
“Sitting in a room with a transmitter?”
She laughed. “Actually, yes. A hyper system of some sort. He was hoping to find a way through the borderlands.” That was a reference to transdimensional space-time, which was still not well understood. “Look, what I'm trying to say is that you guys should be aware that, obscured in all the eccentricities, the guy was a genius. But that's not the reason I called-Chase, I'm worried about Alex. He's taking a lot of criticism right now in the media. Is he okay?”
“He's fine, Shara. I think he's used to it.”
“Okay. I'm glad to hear it. If I can help in any way-”
“Sure, Shara. I'll tell him you called. We'll let you know if you can do anything.”
“Thanks.” She started to disconnect, but hesitated. “One more thing about Robin?”
“Yes?”
“I don't suppose his notebook's included among the artifacts? Or the house AI? I didn't see either listed.”
“No. We don't know what happened to the notebook. Elizabeth deleted the data banks in the AI so she wouldn't be tempted to bring him back.”
“I can understand that. Chase, if you come across a journal, a diary, anything like that, I'd like to know about it.”
“Okay.”
“It could have some very valuable stuff in it.”
“I'll ask his sister-in-law. Maybe she knows something more than she's told us.”
“Good. If you come up with anything, can I persuade you to call me first?”
“Sure, Shara.”
I called Karen Howard. “No,” she said. “He did have a notebook. Used to carry it around with him a lot. But it wasn't among the stuff that came with the estate.”
“You're sure?”
“I'll check and get back to you.”
I'm not sure why, but I didn't much feel like going back to the mundane administrative tasks I'd been working on all day. I sank into my chair and found myself thinking about Gabriel Benedict, Alex's uncle, who'd hired me to work for the archeological team he'd led. I'd spent most of my time then in the field at his sites rather than in an office. But when we were at home, this had been our headquarters, and I'd been behind the same desk. There was a scratch across one side of it, where he and one of his colleagues had gotten careless and bashed a spade into it. The damaged side was now set against the wall so no one could see it.
There was a picture of Gabe and me on the bookcase. He had a trowel in one hand and a bone in the other. I was leaning on a spade. He'd been more than a boss. He'd been a friend. I spent three years with him, ferrying him and his colleagues to remote locations around the Orion Arm. I'd known, of course, that civilizations rise and fall, that cities enjoy their time in the sunlight, then, for a variety of reasons, sink into obscurity and, eventually, into the ground. Everybody knows that. But I hadn't understood the implications until Gabriel Benedict had hired me on as transport director-the title was a gag: I was the pilot for the Fleury Archeological Initiative, named for Ann Fleury, who'd put the organization together in an effort to maintain the integrity of historical sites, to see that they were properly managed, and to keep them safe from exploiters.
That, of course, meant people like Alex. And, ultimately, me.
It was the reason Gabe was so disappointed in his nephew. Alex never knew his parents. Both had been historians. His mother died giving birth to him. She was one of three women in the entire world to die that year during delivery. His father died a year later while touring the ruins of Kashnir when he was attacked and bitten by a storm of dragon bees. The infant, left temporarily in the care of Gabriel and his wife, Elaina, stayed with them.
Elaina was long gone by the time I met Gabe. She'd run off with someone. Don't know who. I never heard the details. I can't imagine how she could have done any better than Gabe.
So Alex grew up, as he liked to say, in dig sites. He inherited the family's passion for history. But instead of following in Gabe's footsteps, he'd decided there were plenty of artifacts out there for everybody. There was a serious market for antiquities, especially those that could be linked to an historical personage or event. And Alex saw no reason he shouldn't cash in on it.
Shortly after I began working for Gabe, I heard that he had a nephew. When I asked, innocently, whether Alex had any interest in archeology, Gabe's face had darkened, and he'd shaken his head. “No,” he'd said. “None whatever.”
I didn't ask again. His colleagues filled me in on the details. “Alex robs tombs,” one of them told me. “You might say he's not exactly the son Gabe had hoped for.”
Eventually, they reconciled, although they never became close. I didn't meet Alex during those years. You'll understand I had a fairly low opinion of him and felt sorry for his uncle.
Gabe got interested when an exploration ship, the Tenandrome, returned to Rimway, and Survey became secretive about something they'd seen. Gabe went home, got involved in an investigation, and let me know he'd figured it out. He was on the return flight, on the Capella, when it vanished. He'd asked me to meet him at Saraglia Station. And I'll never forget sitting in Karlovski's All-Night listening to the reports. The interstellar was late. Two hours later, it still hadn't arrived. Then there was an assurance that delays happen, and there was no reason to worry. Search units were being sent out. I was wandering through the concourse, too restless to sit, when they announced that the Capella was officially declared missing.
They never found it, of course. It was a bad time. As painful as anything in my life. I hadn't realized how much I liked Gabe, loved him, really. An easygoing guy with a great sense of humor. I used to wonder about his ex-wife, what kind of nitwit she must have been to leave him. He possessed an innocent charm, and I loved spending time with him. Did it whenever I could. It was why I hung around the sites, eating food cooked over campfires and sleeping under the stars. And now and then wielding a shovel. Looking back now, I've come to realize that they were among the best days of my life.
Then, without warning, he was gone.
After I got myself together, after I'd given up on any possibility that the Capella would magically show up somewhere, I went back to Rimway, to the country house. Gabe owed me two months' pay and expenses. I had decided to let it go, not to put in my final statement, but when I heard that the nephew had taken over the estate, I had no problem.
That, of course, constituted my introduction to Alex. Pay me. And I'll confess that I didn't like him at first. Maybe it was because of what I knew about him. Maybe, somehow, I resented his being there in place of Gabe. I don't know. We got talking about the Tenandrome, and why Survey had been so secretive about its mission, and what its connection was with Gabe.
As the old saying goes, one thing led to another. Before we were finished, he'd saved my life. That can do a lot to cement a relationship with somebody.
Karen called back that afternoon. “No notebook,” she said. “Sorry.”
“You couldn't have misplaced it?”
“No. If I'd seen it, I'd have remembered. It just didn't come with the other stuff.”
Alex spent his time reading everything he could find about Robin. He discovered that the physicist had been a superb athlete in school, that he'd been an only child, that his parents had been wealthy, and that he'd never wanted for anything.
We continued to get a lot of calls from the media, but Alex knew there was such a thing as overexposure, so he limited access. For him, it was all a game. It had little or nothing to do with making money, per se, other than that he enjoyed seeing his clients prosper. But he spoke of his “enhancement technique” as if he were creating a romance, giving value to the culture.
I objected occasionally, especially when we went overboard for Karen Howard. The truth is that I suspected there was more to this than the Robin collectibles. That he'd become intrigued with the mystery surrounding the disappearance. He continued to insist that arriving at a solution would be counterproductive. And I knew he was right. But I didn't think, in the end, it would matter.
During this uncomfortable period, I stopped by the country house during off-hours a couple of times to reassure myself he was okay. One evening, I found him in the conference room watching a clip of Chris Robin giving
