Pandora's Box

G J Saunders

Published: 2013
Categorie(s): Fiction, Drama, Action & Adventure, Romance, Science Fiction
Tag(s): mystery "science fiction" "pandora's box"

Chapter

Nestled on the side of Lake Varna near Bulgaria's Black sea coast, the
August light was already fading as an ancient clay pot was being
painstakingly released from where it had rested undisturbed since 4000
BC.
The dig was being supervised by Dr Pandora Summers from
University College in one of the most exceptional archaeological sites in
Europe.
Pandora had taken a break and was on the point of calling a halt to the
day's work when an excited student, trowel in hand rushed up to her.
"You have to see this, it's unbelievable"
Pandora made her way back to where the clay pot was being delicately
uncovered.
"What?"
"Look, closer at the crack near the base there's a "
The student was lost for words.
"It must be a mistake, a trick of the evening light." Pandora bent down
for a closer examination.
"My God you're right This is impossible. Stop all work I want
photographs."
The vessel which had lain sealed and buried for over six thousand
years contained a faint, just visible source of light which was now shining through the recently uncovered crack in the base of the jar.
***
On the other side of the World, as far from Bulgaria as you can reasonably get, could be found a man who chose to be known simply as The
Collector. He had made his home on the South Island of New Zealand in
a remote and beautiful piece of land in Otago a short helicopter ride
from Queenstown. Known as Shadow Fall Farm, the property had a
view over a vast and dramatically beautiful landscape within sight of the
magnificent Southern Alps. Sparsely populated and remote, it was an
ideal place for a wealthy man who wished to lose contact with his former
world.

Queenstown is the skiing Mecca for many locals and attracts visitors
from all over the world. Many European ski instructors take advantage
of the different seasons in the Southern Hemisphere to extend the time
when they can employ their skills. Queenstown sits next to Lake Wakatipu alongside the snow-capped Coronet Peak.
The collector made his considerable fortune as a merchant banker. He
pulled out of the sector well before the financial crisis, which he saw as
an inevitable consequence of the unbridled laissez faire attitudes that
had emerged in the banking industry. The Collector put his money into
profitable medium sized companies scattered in every corner of the
Globe.
His focus had always been on money the accumulation of it.
However when his fortune became virtually uncountable, his passion
waned. He still knew within a few dozens of millions what he was worth
but took his wealth for granted and left those he employed to administer
his vast assets. Now his interest lay in collecting. His financial strength
allowed him to own anything that was for sale, but he found no challenge there. The Collector's passion centred on works of art, precious and
unusual items that would enhance his personal museum. Things that
money may not necessarily buy. Things that may not necessarily be for
sale.
His collection included precious and unusual gems, a piece of moon
rock which fell mysteriously into his possession, art works which had
somehow disappeared from their legitimate owners. This and much
more had emerged in his collection. His appetite for more was insatiable
and he had links to a network of people who were constantly on the
lookout for Items of interest.
His New Zealand property sat remote and blended, almost camouflaged, into the tussock landscape. The buildings were extensive and exhibit an opulence that is normally only found in the mansions built by
dictators of impoverished countries.
For The Collector the isolation gave him security, but he maintained
easy access to anywhere in the country and beyond in his private aircraft; a helicopter at Shadow Fall and a small jet at Queenstown airport.
The Collector lives with his wife Perdita, a recent acquisition. She may
almost be considered as a part of his collection but no one would admit
to the suggestion. Perdita has a rare beauty, young and just the sort of
woman you might imagine a man with a vast fortune could attract. The
marriage was contracted on condition that when she lost her looks, they
would divorce and she would walk away with thirty five million dollars.

Not surprisingly she agreed but as time passed she found herself with a
regret that would not go away. Despite this apparently soulless arrangement there is a genuine affection between the them though, as for love
The Collector employed a small staff of carefully selected servants and
technicians and a farm manager and his staff who run the High Country
sheep farm. The farm, a fully productive and profitable one, runs
without the collector's input or interest. It does however lend a mundane
legitimacy to the property. No one could imagine the vast wealth and
unusual collection that was hidden at Shadow Fall.
As the Sun was setting over Lake Varna it was also starting to cast its
morning rays across Shadow Fall Farm. The collector was an early riser
and he left Perdita still snoozing, enjoying the still half asleep bliss of one
who is free of responsibilities or worries. He slipped on a track suit and
headed across the deserted hallway which led to the conservatory. The
name conservatory was something of a misnomer, this particular room
was a large glazed expanse which joined the main part of the house to
the less obvious structure carved into the hillside where the museum
was housed. The conservatory covered an area hardly smaller than a
football field. The glazed walls stretched up twelve metres to an automatically ventilated roof. There was a tropical garden with manicured
lawns sweeping down to a large swimming pool with changing rooms
and a marble paved sitting area. At the far side against the hill were
locked doors which when opened revealed the museum. The conservatory was the Collector's favourite place on his property, always kept at a
near tropical temperature summer and winter he could relax and contemplate his collection in his own private Garden of Eden.
He walked across the verdant lawn and reached the East wall. The sun
was just casting a barely visible pink tinge onto the winter sky. The
morning stars in the crystal clear heavens were still visible but fading
fast as the Sun rose. Today was an anniversary; it was his sister's birthday. She was the only one who had ever understood him, the only one
who had ever really loved him. She was the only one he had ever loved.
When she had died of cancer, he was still only thirty, he was so involved
in his quest to make his fortune that he failed to visit her in her last few
days. A trip across the Atlantic would have cost him precious time, or so
he thought back then. Now he would give his fortune to go back and
correct the only real regret of his life. As he looked at the fading stars he
made a wish that somehow she would know how much he loved her
and how much he regretted not saying goodbye.

Taking his time he walked round to examine the banana trees which
had small, almost ripe fruit that had taken from last summer to mature.
Winter had the countryside gripped in its icy claw but, apart from the
length of the day, in the conservatory, one could enjoy a perpetual summer. Slipping off his tracksuit he dived into the pool and swam his usual
ten laps. He pulled himself from the water, towelled himself dry and
walked back into the main part of the house through the automatic environmental control doors. He heard the pat of Jessy's paws as she came
up, tail flailing as she always did to greet him. He bent down and
fondled the sensitive part around the base of her ears. A Black Labrador
a little too fat as most were, she was quite unaware of the luxury she was
lucky enough to be living in. To her all this was just normal. Not so for
the Collector.
His life had started in much poorer circumstances, born in Glasgow;
there was still a trace of accent, though it had been softened from years
in New York, London and now his own personal paradise in New Zealand. He had dragged himself out of poverty by force of his own stubborn will and considerable intellect and had made the fortune which was
now apparent. He often thought that if things had gone differently for
him, he could easily have ended up as a Glaswegian gangster and at
times his ruthlessness betrayed exactly those traits.
"Hello darling." Perdita was up and dressed. The Collector was still
shocked at just how beautiful his wife was. A former model, her natural
elegance and charm made her stand out in any gathering. She would
have to lose her looks by a considerable margin before he would invoke
his termination contract with her.
"What plans for today?" She asked. Every day was a new adventure
for them. The world really was their oyster.
"How about a drive along the lake, then we can take lunch at The
Sonata."
"Sounds like a plan to me." she said.
"Perdy, You are happy here aren't you? I know our arrangement is a
little unusual, but I want you to be happy, not just act the part."
"I am the happiest I could ever be." She gave him one of her killer
smiles hoping to disguise the lie.
She was not sure if he believed her. He was equally uncertain by her
reply. In fact she was not unhappy, but there were things The Collector
would not give her Like children for example Like an old age
together.

The Collector was a man of his word. He never lied, if he promised

you something, he would deliver one hundred per cent guaranteed.
That was the case whether the promise entailed pleasure or pain. He
could certainly deliver pain as some unfortunates had already
discovered.
Christina, the housekeeper, served them their breakfast and then he
spent half an hour or so in the media room catching up on the world
news. His secure email in-box was again empty. Only one man had the
address. Benson, he was paid a handsome retainer and additionally by
results. The Collector employed Benson to find collectables. Because the
collectables were often sourced under conditions of dubious legality, the
direct links to the Collector were kept to a minimum. Benson was
charged with using the utmost discretion and kept his own contacts at
arm's length. Only Benson knew the identity of his patron, although the
existence of such a person was suspected by many of the world's police
forces. The Collector had made it clear that if Benson ever allowed his
identity to be known, by accident or design, then the consequences
would be dire.
The empty in-box was a disappointment; it had been months since he
had taken the Beethoven hand written letters into his collection. It was
time for another space to be filled.
His mind re-focused on the day ahead. He called David Peterson his
pilot cum chauffeur on the internal phone.
"Is the Porsche ready to go?"
"As always, sir."
"Good man, bring it round to the driveway will you."
"Yes sir, which Porsche will you be driving today?"
"Oh sorry; the 911 turbo."
"Come on Perdita, the car's ready."
Perdita had been waiting patiently for half an hour and needed no
hurry-up. She was dressed for the weather in a woollen knee length skirt
with a loose fitting cashmere sweater. A matching scarf was knotted
loosely about her pretty neck. She wore a pair of Italian soft leather calf
length boots with fashionably high heels.
With a speed limit of 100 km per hour, 500 HP was probably a little excessive for any road car in New Zealand. The Porsche however remained
an experience to drive even at modest speed. He edged the car down the
loose metal driveway past the stand of pine trees and down towards the
main road. From down here the only buildings visible were those

belonging to the farm, even the servants' cottages which were separated
from the main house were still hidden behind the trees.
He eased the car onto the road and prodded the throttle. The car
snarled the typical flat six engine note and leaped forward like a pouncing tiger.
"Not too fast, darling." Perdita gripped the edge of her seat nervously.
She was not a thrill seeker. The Collector eased off and they rolled along
just below the speed limit down towards the Lake.
They joined the lake at Glenorchy and followed the eastern side of the
blue water down past Mount Creighton on the Glenorchy-Queenstown
Rd. The road was free of snow, but at this time of year ice was always a
possibility. The low Winter Sun flashed across the silver paintwork of
the car as it purred along the spectacular road. The clear bright blue sky
and the crisp air was a joy and free for the taking. Perdita slipped on her
designer sunglasses, they would have cost a week's wages for a working
man. If the idea had crossed her mind she would have said that it was
hardly her fault what sunglasses cost these days.
By the time they had reached Queenstown they both felt that it was
time for a leisurely coffee break. The town was buzzing with tourists, it
was high season for the skiing fraternity and the visitors were keen to
sample what was on offer both on and off the slopes. Few went away
disappointed.
Perdita and her husband found a suitable place with a view of the
gondolas swinging gently on the cable taking the holiday makers up to
the Skyline restaurant. They ordered flat whites and biscotti.
"Another empty in-box this morning." He said just to make
conversation.
"Just what is it with you and your collecting mania?" Her voice was
light-hearted but held a slightly mocking tone. Perdita just could not understand his passion. It was a question she had posed before and would
do so again until she got to understand what drove this man.
"We all need something to be passionate about, to strive for, when you
have more money than you need you look for something else, I've told
you how I feel before. The trouble is you just have no idea what makes
me tick!"
She took his face in her slender manicured fingers, her crimson nails
contrasting against his pale skin, and leaning across the table kissed him
on his mouth leaving just a trace of lipstick which she wiped with a
couple of strokes of her thumb.

"My darling." she said, smiling for emphasis "No one on this entire
planet knows what makes you tick."
He considered her words for a few moments and came to the sad conclusion that she was right. He turned his head away to hide the unexpected moistness in his eyes.

Chapter

The evening was falling fast as Pandora tried to clarify her thoughts.
What had been uncovered here did not fit into the normal expectations
of archaeology at all. Was she out of her depth even trying to control the
situation? The question rocked her self-confidence.
The points she could be sure of were:
1, The pot from the Neolithic Age had been buried for somewhere in
the order of six thousand years.
2, There was a faint light source inside the pot.
3, That was impossible.
Her training had equipped her with good organizational skills and she
had a keen appreciation of the first principal: Do no harm to the site and
to any artefacts. The other commandment was: Document everything.
John Preston arrived with the photographic equipment and set up his
tripod at the side of the dig. "The light's starting to fade Doctor Summers, I'll take what I can in the ambient light and then I can set up some
flood lights."
Pandora was acutely aware of the interest the discovery would generate and had an instinctive desire to keep things secret until they had a
better idea of what they were dealing with.
"I think flood lights may attract too much attention, there are other
groups not far away and I don't want them wandering over to see what
the excitement is. Do what you can with the ambient light John, in fact it
will probably show the glow from the crack better than if strongly
illuminated."
There were seven in her party, only four were there at the moment and
Pandora decided that she would keep the discovery among just the four
of them until she had discussed the situation with her Professor back in
London.
"Susan can you collect some of the plastic sheeting so that we can cover over the site, I don't want rain or prying eyes to be an issue. Listen all
of you " She raised her voice and waved her team over. Her confidence, at least the appearance of it, was back.

"I intend keeping this whatever we have found, confidential until I

get more advice from London. I ask you all to keep absolutely silent
about what you have seen until I tell you otherwise."
"Does that include Jenny, Peter and Karl?" asked Susan.
"I know that sounds a bit extreme, but for the moment the fewer who
know about this the better. Do I have your agreement?"
All those present acknowledged their willingness to keep things quiet.
"Thank you for your support with that, I promise the rest of the team
will be involved when I feel more confident with what we are going to
do. It's just possible that after all this excitement, there may be a simple
rational explanation for what we have seen. But I have to say I can't
come up with anything at the moment."
"Bioluminescence of some kind is my bet." Suggested Peter Jenkins.
"Glow worms, that kind of thing."
"Thank you Peter, that may well be the answer."
Pandora thought the chance of a living organism remaining alive and
active after such a length of time was remote.
"For tonight I want to wrap all this up as soon as John has finished
with the photography. My priority tomorrow is to remove the pot as
soon as possible and take a look at just what we have unearthed."
When the site had finally been covered and was as secure as they
could make it Pandora gathered the other three around.
"I would like you all to write up notes on what you observed today as
the pot was uncovered. No conferring please, I want three different perspectives, four including my own. You can add your opinions on what
we are dealing with if you like but it is observed facts that I really
want Oh and straight away before your memory and your imagination
get too confused Any questions?"
"Yes, what's for supper?" Peter was a post graduate student with a
keen sense of humour, as keen as his appetite. His comment raised a
laugh and eased the tension which was quite palpable.
Pandora, no she was not particularily enamoured with her given
name, was twenty eight, attractive, single and the eldest of two sisters.
She lectured at the University College London, younger than many of
the staff; she was liked by the students who saw her more as one of them
than a member of the dusty faculty. Professor Deakin saw her as a useful
member of his staff, an asset to be utilized but ultimately as a threat to
his own position. For the moment they worked reasonably well together
but an eventual conflict was inevitable he felt.

10

Pandora was vaguely aware of a coldness in the relationship. She

avoided open conflicts as much as possible and felt that her long term future would probably be at another institution.
Following the advice she had given earlier, she wrote up her own
notes in as much detail as possible before wondering what the best way
of contacting the professor was. Phone or email? She came to the conclusion that the phone was the best option, she wanted a quick response
and she was unsure how secure a normal email connection would be.
The decision was one thing; actually getting Deakin to answer his
phone was another. Eventually after multiple attempts she finally got
through."
"Professor Deakin speaking, who is this?"
"It's Pandora Professor "
"I hope you know I'm in the middle of dinner with the Education Minister, can't this wait?"
Pandora briefly explained the situation.
"Look here, you are absolutely sure of your facts "
"I'm sure of my facts. Not sure of what they mean and not sure of what
to do. Professor, I need the advice of someone with your experience."
Pandora knew how to massage an ego when necessary.
"Very well, give me an hour to consider this and I will call you back."
He ended the call with his thoughts racing. This could be extremely lucrative for the College not to mention his own academic reputation. He
suddenly found that the Minister of Education was of rather less importance than he had led Dr Summers to believe. He made his excuses and
withdrew from the table with a slightly indecent haste pausing only to
drain his glass of a rather exquisite Pauillac.
Pandora knew she would get little sleep that night but the wait for
Professor Deakin dragged on well into the night. Bulgaria was two hours
ahead of English time which made it quite late before her mobile chimed.
"Pandora, there is no question what to do, get the damned pot out of
ground and bring it back here post haste."
"Yes, but what about the local authorities, actually the pot is the property of "
"My dear girl, Britain has been riffling the world of its antiquities for
centuries. Do you think Lord Elgin would have had scruples about taking what he had found? Good God girl, half of ancient Egypt is sitting in
the British museum. We will hardly be creating a precedent. Just get it
home, we can debate the ethics at our leisure over tea at the Dorchester."

11

Pandora felt that Deakin, who rather over-played the part, really did
belong to a different era. However she had done what she wanted which
was to switch the responsibility to him. In truth she wanted the artefact
back in London as much as he did.
Bleary eyed after a fitful sleep, Pandora dragged herself from her tent.
It was barely light but it looked like fine weather was in store. She made
her way over to the dig. Despite the early hour she was not the first one
there. Susan and Peter were hovering over the plastic covers, eager to
start work, but unwilling to make a move until Dr. Summers had
arrived.
"Did you sleep well?" she asked.
"You have to be joking, not a wink!"
"The other three are back, we haven't said anything but "
"I'm going to start them on a dig across the rise, on the necropolis site,
I do feel guilty, and it's as if I don't trust them but this is such a delicate
matter. Professor Deakin wants the pot back in London as soon as possible and that could put us in difficulties with the local authorities, the
fewer who are involved, the better."
By nine o'clock it the sun was making its presence felt the air was
already hot; the Black Sea coast would have been ideal for a holiday. It
had everything the Riviera had to offer except the inflated prices. There
was however work to do. The covers were removed from the dig revealing that nothing had changed from the previous evening. The glow from
the base of the pot was however much less noticeable in the bright morning light. Carefully the remaining earth was trowelled from the sides and
down to the base.
"The pot should now be free. Get the trowel underneath and gently
free it from the sediment base "
Gently the trowel was slid under and the pot was free.
"OK good now lift it slowly "
It was immediately apparent that the base was completely detached
from the main part of the pot so a thin wooden board was placed underneath as support and the whole thing carefully lifted free of its ancient
resting place.
It was placed on a wooden table in the main tent. Four pairs of eyes
were locked onto what appeared to be just a normal six thousand year
old clay pot. A clay pot with a hardly visible light shining from the crack
which they now knew circled the entire base. The top of the pot was
sealed with a lid which appeared to have been tied down with some

12

form of cord which was now mostly decayed. There appeared to be possible traces of resin or wax used to seal the lid down.
"Well are we going to look inside, or what?"
It was Peter who spoke but his words were on every one's lips.
"Photo's first please." Instructed Dr Summers.
Eventually the jar was carefully separated from its base and put down
next to it.
There was a general gasp of astonishment with what met their eyes.
"More photos please John "
Sitting on the detached base of the pot balanced a golden box, intricately carved with a minute geometric design. To Pandora's eyes the
design seemed abstract but it was not without repetition of the symbols
and she wondered if it might actually be some form of script. It was in
the shape of a cube, each side a little over 6 cms. Somehow the entire surface of the cube was glowing in the way that a piece of white hot steel
glows. In the case of the cube the glow was much less bright almost ethereal and somehow unsettling.
Pandora put on a pair of cotton gloves and gingerly touched the surface of the cube. It felt surprisingly normal, no obvious heat or anything
at all strange. She lifted it from the base of the pot and saw that the underside was no different to the rest of the cube. It appeared perfectly
symmetrical and untouched by the ravages of time. It looked as if it had
just been made fresh from some elven jewellers workshop.
"Is it a box?" asked Susan.
"There is no obvious lid or way to open it, but of course that may mean
nothing, many boxes are made with a trick to opening them which is not
apparent at first look. The weight indicates that the box may be hollow,
it's lighter than I expected Again this is so unusual that I can't even begin to guess."
Susan felt compelled to touch the object; it was somehow in conflict
with her sense of normality. When Pandora had placed the cube down
on a soft piece of cloth, Susan very delicately stroked the top left corner
with her bare index finger "
"Ouch "
Her finger snapped away automatically as if from an electric shock or
from touching something hot.
"What happened, are you hurt?"
"I don't know, it just felt strange, sort of tingling, there was no real
pain it was just the shock, I was not expecting it to feel so odd." Susan
took a step back clearly unsettled by the experience.

13

Pandora realized that this artefact needed more than she could offer to
uncover its secrets. Despite Susan's reaction when she touched the box,
Pandora felt compelled to experience what Susan had. She took off a
glove and gingerly placed a finger on the surface on the artefact. She reacted in the same way as Susan; the experience was difficult to explain. It
was unlike anything she had ever felt before.
"I have to get this back to London, any opinions on how we can best
pack it safely? Bear in mind that I don't want to have to explain myself to
customs I will have no official documentation."
John offered his opinion:
"I'm used to lugging camera equipment around, a lot of that stuff can
be quite delicate. I have a spare bag which is reinforced, well-padded
and would not attract unwanted attention It's the normal sort of thing
that a traveller might have over his or her shoulder."
Peter made his observation:
"Look, the box, the cube, whatever we call it has sat safely inside the
pot for five or six millennia why not put it back and take the whole
thing. Just crate it up with foam packing around it."
"That leaves it open to questions by customs, and I can't carry a crate
as hand luggage I don't really want to let it out of my sight."
"I don't think customs will be a problem, just go through the blue door
and unless you look like a drug smuggler or something no one is even
going to even stop you."
"I think you're right but if I did get caught in a spot check things could
turn nasty. Going through the blue door is effectively saying that you
have nothing to declare."
"You do have nothing to declare."
"Nothing I want to declare!" Pandora corrected.
Once again Pandora decided to let the Professor make the decision.
His response was immediate and unequivocal.
"Just pack up the cube nice and snug and bring it as hand luggage, at
this stage the pot is of far less interest. I'm sure you will have no problem
now that we are part of the E.U."
They used bubble wrap to cocoon the cube. It seemed almost too prosaic, a silk lined Faberg box would have been more appropriate. Once
taped up, it was secured in John's photographic equipment bag.
The taxi ride to the airport felt to be one of the longest ones of her life
and the wait for her flight seemed interminable.
The Professor proved to be right however. She passed out of the airport arrivals with her hand luggage and no one even spoke to her. As

14

she settled into her seat on the Heathrow Express she let out a sigh of relief. Just 15 or 20 minutes to Paddington then a short taxi ride to St Johns
Wood to meet with Professor Deakin. It would be a relief to be rid of her
package. She made a quick call to Deakin to let him know that she had
arrived safely and would be at his home within the hour.
Pandora suddenly felt sleepy. After a couple of days of stress and little
sleep she could finally relax. She just allowed herself to close her eyes for
a minute when a voice with an Italian accent said:
"Do you mind if I put my luggage up here?"
Pandora's eyes half opened and saw a tall dark haired guy, nicely
dressed pointing to the space over her seat.
"That's fine." she said. "Need any help?"
"No no There it's done. Thanks."
Pandora's eyes closed again, just to rest them. Obviously she would
not fall asleep The train rumbled on and gathered speed making a
soothing and repetitive almost hypnotic sound
"Wake up miss we are at Paddington "
Pandora woke with a start, unsure where she was for a second. She
blinked her eyes. Falling asleep like that was just not what she did. She
took a mouthful of water from her bottle of Evian. As Pandora stood and
opened the luggage locker she was suddenly wide awake.
"Oh God no "
The locker was empty.

15

Chapter

"I'll take your details miss, and if the bags turn up I'll contact you. I have
to say, in cases like this it's usually an opportunist thief and anything of
value will be long gone. We sometimes get the bags, even maybe your
passport might be found. You say there was a camera bag and a
holdall?"
Pandora was not at all sure if she should have got the police involved
but an efficient and business like police woman just happened to be
patrolling the station and was drawn to her obvious panic.
Pandora wandered around in a daze hoping to catch sight of
something, a straw to grasp, but there was nothing. She sat for a moment
near the statue of Paddington Bear, head in her hands. How could she
tell Deakin? What could she do?
"Pandora? is that you?" A figure had emerged from the Starbucks just
opposite and was headed her way.
"What's the matter?" He asked. Pandora raised her eyes and saw with
pleasure an old friend.
"Stewart Stewart Moss Oh am I glad to see you."
Pandora jumped to her feet and flung her arms round Stewart's neck.
She was certainly not the kind of woman to normally make public displays of emotion but she burst into tears as her friend from her Cambridge days held her in a comforting hug.
"Come on now, this isn't like you Do you want a coffee or
something?" he asked pointing back to where he had just come from. "I
could use something a little stronger." She said regaining her composure.
They soon found themselves in a nearby pub. Stewart had a pint of
real ale in front of him; the sparking bubbles rising through the amber liquid to the creamy head invited his attention. He felt his attention was
needed elsewhere just for the moment. Pandora had already half finished her brandy.
"Do you want another?" he asked pointing to her drink.
"Actually, yes " She drained the contents of her glass and Stewart
got her a refill.

16

"Thanks Stewart, I don't usually drink much any more " She thought
back to their student days when they both new how to party. That was
before she had grown up of course.
"OK tell me what all this is about "
"I just had my luggage stolen, I've just flown in from Bulgaria and
I was bringing back something rather important. And now it's gone,
probably my career with it."
"It can't be that bad. Just what has been taken?
"Well apart from my bank cards and passport I had something we
discovered in a dig at Varna "
"Well an old artefact can hardly be that important, and a thief
wouldn't know what to do with it anyway My bet is that it'll turn up."
"You might normally be right, but what we found was unusual."
Pandora felt that she was in danger of telling Stewart too much, but
she did trust him. Under his mop of unkempt hair was a brilliant brain
which was moderated by one of the kindest and selfless personalities she
had ever known.
"I can't say any more Stewart "
He looked at her with a feigned sadness "Not even to old Stew-pot?"
She smiled. "No I'm sorry, maybe later when this has all died down."
"OK, what's your immediate problem let's think rationally."
"I have no money, I can't get home, and I have to tell Deakin that I
have totally screwed up a simple courier job and lost what may be the
most significant find in human history!"
Stewart raised his right eyebrow in an exaggerated show of disbelief.
" In human history." he repeated.
The fact that Pandora didn't laugh and admit to any exaggeration surprised him.
"Yes, I think perhaps so." She had let too much slip now and relented
under Stewart's renewed questioning. She told her old best friend
everything.
I'll come with you to see Deakin, he won't be able to shoot you in front
of a witness, then we can get you home and you can make the calls to
sort out your bank cards. Believe me, tomorrow things will look a lot
better."
"Don't you have to be somewhere?" She asked, hoping the answer
would be no.
"I'm just in town for the day but all my business is done. Actually I
don't need to be back in Cambridge until Monday. I'm actually a free
agent at your disposal."

17

Professor Deakin opened his front door at the first knock. His face revealed his welling anger as much as his cutting words.
"You stupid, stupid girl, How could you have let this happen." Deakin
was incandescent; he had the urge to strike Dr Summers across her face
but was inhibited by propriety and the not inconsiderable mass of the
oaf she had deigned to bring with her.
"Well it's just up to you to retrieve the item Christ I can't even
bring myself to speak to you any more. Get out of my house."
The meeting had gone exactly as expected. They left St John's Wood
with Pandora feeling humiliated and numb. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Stewart put his arm across her shoulder.
"Well that went quite well under the circs."
Despite herself Pandora chuckled, the look of total pomposity on
Deakin's face was just too ludicrous to take seriously.
"Right let's get you home, are you still sharing the flat with you sister?"
The taxi pulled up outside her two bedroom flat and she led Stewart
inside.
"Pandora, Hi. How's my big sister "
"Hello Lucy, not bad."
The sisters hugged.
"Tell me all about it, I've just got time for a quick cuppa with you
and Is that you Stewart?"
"Hi Lucy long time "
She spoke against the side of her hand, pretending that she didn't
want Stewart to hear.
"You should tell your guy he needs a haircut."
Stewart laughed and made a grab for Lucy who pulled away in a fit of
giggles. Stewart always felt more at ease with the little sister for some
reason.
"So why do you have to be off as soon as I get back from the other side
of Europe." Asked Pandora.
"A hot date." she mouthed.
"Do I know this hot date?"
"No, I may bring him round for your inspection if he lives up to
expectations."
Lucy managed just a couple of gulps of her tea and then jumped up.
"Got to go darlings, Bye Stewart see you soon." She headed for the
door and then spun on her heel.

18

"Oh almost forgot, there was some stuff left for you. A taxi dropped it
off there's a note I dumped it in your room. OK bye."
Lucy's bubbly personality exited the front door leaving behind a trace
of her "hot date" perfume and a sudden silence as the mood sank back to
where it had been before.
"I better go and see what that delivery is all about."
Stewart wondered if he should make his exit too, Pandora seemed to
be getting her composure back.
There was a sudden squeal from Pandora's room.
"Stewart, come here, quick! It's my luggage I'm saved!"
He stood in the doorway as Pandora hugged the life out of him in relief. She held a hand written note:
"Miss Stewart, I must apologize. In my rush to get off the train I swept
up your bags up along with mine. Luckily your name and address were
in the holdall so I put them in a taxi to return to you. I am so sorry for the
upset." It was signed Giovanni Spitarri.
"Thank God there are still some honest people left in the world."
"I think most people are honest, most of the time." Stewart added. Pandora was not in the mood to argue the point; suddenly the whole world
was honest and good. Ten minutes earlier her opinion would have been
the opposite.
"Well, are you going to show me this Earth shattering discovery?" Stewart asked. Pandora went back into her room and brought out the photographic bag. She soon had the parcel in her hands and laid it on the
table. With extreme care she removed the tape and then the bubble wrap.
They both fell silent as the cube stood naked in front of them. Back in the
ordinary setting of her flat, the artefact seemed in stark contrast with its
every day surroundings.
Stewart held out his hand towards the cube.
"No don't touch it with your bare skin, there's some sort of electric
shock or something "
"I'd love to get this in my lab back at Cambridge. It is just not possible
that it can belong to the Neolithic age. Just what secrets does it hold?"
"Well I thought we would need a physicist to give us a technical interpretation of what we found. Maybe you will get the job But I guess
that will be down to Deakin."
"Talking of him, don't you think you should give him a call put him
out of his misery."

19

"My inclination is to let him stew for a while, he could have shown me
just a little sympathy, and it was obvious that I was as upset as he was.
More so even."
"Shall I call him?" Stewart asked.
"No it's better if I do it"
Pandora dialled the Professors number.
"It's Pandora."
"There's no point in apologizing the damage is done. I have no confidence in your abilities any more "
"I've got it back!"
"What, well why didn't you say so bring it round straight away."
As Pandora hung up she muttered to herself what Stewart interpreted
as "Miserable self-centred bastard." But he could have misheard the normally polite woman.
The golden cube was re-enclosed in its polythene bubble sarcophagus
and put back in the bag.
"Shall I come with you, or, have you done with me for today?"
Pandora looked at him for a long moment with questioning eyes. It
was a complete mystery to her why she had allowed Stewart to drift out
of her life.
"The come with one, if you can."
"Love to."
This time the professor opened his door with a smile on his face.
"Come in my girl, sorry about my performance earlier but I was so
disappointed "
"That's not a problem." Pandora lied.
"Right what have you got come and use my display table. Pamela,
could you get our guests some sherry."
"Hello Mrs Deakin, how are you?"
"Very well, my dear. And you?"
The professor's wife was a quiet, small woman who lived in her
husband's shadow but she had a good kind heart and seemed content
enough with her lot. She spent her day fussing around the house like a
captive sparrow administering to her husband's needs.
Pandora introduced Stewart to her deliberately keeping the Professor
waiting.
"Yes, yes, come on Pandora show me what you have."
Pandora put on a pair of surgical gloves and placed the golden cube
on Deakin's table. He stood astonished for a second and then moved his
hand to touch it.

20

Pandora looked at Stewart and gave him a clear signal to keep quiet.
"Ouch! Ouch! Good God what was that " The professor reeled back
shaking his fingers.
"Oh I'm sorry I should have warned you I'm certain it will have
done no harm, but I understand the shock is quite unsettling."
Deakin took a mouthful of sherry and sat down.
Pandora's eyes met those of Stewart and there was a barely perceptible
exchange of smiles.
"There's more to this than meets the eye Pandora." The professor said
as he held his glass out to Pamela for a refill. Pandora took the opportunity to make her own comment.
"Yes I think this object has moved out of our sphere to some extent. I
suggest we need a physicist to examine it. Maybe Stewart could help"
She indicated towards her companion with a nod of her head.
"Oh you are a physicist young man. I agree with you in principal, Pandora, but No offence to Stewart, maybe someone of top capability is
needed I'll make some calls."
"Stewart is very capable; he's at Cambridge in "
Deakin cut her short.
"Nevertheless Who is your head of department young man?"
"Look Professor if I don't have your confidence, then I am happy to
stand aside." Stewart intoned.
"'Good so be it." Deakin was happy to have scored the point.
"Well Pandora, if there's nothing more, I'll see you first thing Monday
morning at college. Pamela show our guest out will you dear."
As the taxi headed back to Pandora's flat She apologized to Steward
for his off handed treatment.
"That's OK I don't have to see the old buffer again, but how can you
stand working with such a person?"
"In truth I can't, and mostly I rarely see him. Just when he needs me to
do something."
Stewart shrugged.
"I guess I should be thinking about getting home "
"Oh I hoped we could share a take-away or something I've got a
bottle of plonk in the fridge; unless Lucy helped herself You could
crash out on my couch later."
Professor Deakin had meanwhile wasted no time in calling his
contacts.
"A top man who could undertake an examination of an unusual artefact yes Dr Moss you say head of department at materials

21

research sounds just the man you'll see if he's available. Excellent, I'll
see you at the conference in Basel next month. Goodbye Peterson old
chap, regards to Fiona."
Back in Cambridge on Sunday morning Stewart was on his back under
his classic Austin Healey. It was undergoing the delicate procedure of an
oil change, most of which had found its way onto Stewart's shirt. He
fumbled in his pocket for his phone as it started chiming and pulled himself from under the car.
"Hello, Stewart Moss."
"Hello Stewart, Its James Peterson."
"Oh hello Professor, what can I do for you?"
"Just had Professor Deakin on the phone, do you know him? Bit of a
pompous ass actually but don't say I said so Anyway he's looking for a
materials specialist. I said I'd try and get you on board "
James Peterson ended his call with Stewart and immediately dialled
Deakin's number.
"Yes Dr Moss has agreed to take your project on; he'll drive down to
London on Monday and meet you at college."
On Monday morning Pandora met up with Deakin and they both
stood in awe of the mystery that was the cube. It had been brought to the
college by Deakin and stood unceremoniously on his desk. One could almost imagine it as an exotic paper weight. It was still glowing faintly as
it had done since being found. This fact was both unsurprising and astonishing at the same time.
"I managed to pull a few strings over the weekend and was able to
convince a top materials scientist to join our little team." Professor
Deakin looked smug. Pandora already knew who the top man was. Stewart had rung her straight away on Sunday morning after he had taken
the call.
Deakin's office phone rang.
"Hello Oh good, bring him up would you."
"Hello Stewart." Pandora took him by the arm and walked him over to
Deakin.
"You are Dr Moss?"
Deakin had turned bright red.
"Well this is all a little embarrassing I hope you will accept my apology young man err Doctor Moss."
"No apology needed." Stewart smiled.
There was another of those knowing glances from Pandora.
"Let's have a look at what we have here."

22

Stewart spent five minutes with nothing more elaborate than a magnifying glass."
"OK after a quick look I can tell you my initial impressions: We have to
open our minds to all possibilities so, I can say stating the obvious, this
is a real object It's not something like a hologram or a projection of
some sort. The design on the surface appears not to be random or to my
eye just decoration, but I think it is more functional. Think of a three dimensional zipper or maybe an elaborate origami type of folding sorry
I'm not making much sense. The material looks like gold but I'm pretty
sure that it is not. If you are correct about its age, then the lack of any
corrosion is very unusual, it appears as if it had been constructed yesterday. From the weight, I can't draw any conclusion, other than that it has
mass. It was certainly manufactured by an intelligent designer and I
know of no human technology that could have made it today and certainly not six millennia in the past. As for its apparent inexhaustible ability to emit electromagnetic radiation Well we know it has to follow the
laws of thermodynamics There must be an energy source contained in
its structure which will inevitably be running down. What is it for? Who
made it? I don't know. But it was made, it does, in my opinion, have a
purpose. I have to get it back to my lab in Cambridge and do some deeper probing."
"Dr Moss if I understand what you are implying then am I to assume Are you saying this object is Alien of another World?"
"It is either from another world or it was made by people whose
greatest known technology was making and firing clay pots. Which is
the most reasonable explanation in your opinion Professor?"
Deakin had no answer, both explanations were equally unbelievable
but he had no better hypothesis.
"Very well take it to Cambridge, but no destructive testing obviously.
Would it be acceptable if Dr Summers accompanied you to document
your progress?"
Stewart knew Deakin meant Keep an eye on you. but was relaxed about
Pandora's eyes being involved.
"I'd be happy to have her input." he said "I have my car, we could go
together."
"Is that all right with you Dr Summers?"
"Completely."
"Oh and I feel we must still keep the existence of the find completely
confidential." added Deakin.

23

Stewart was not really sure why such an Earth shaking discovery
should be kept secret but in fact quite relished having the opportunity of
undertaking its first examination in seclusion.
Back in Cambridge the box was subjected to series of basic examinations. Pandora hovered in the background feeling mostly useless. Her
questions appeared to be just a hindrance to the progress so after an
hour she took herself off for coffee.
"So what do we know so far?" Asked Pandora on her return.
"Well, we know that its radiating light, so I checked with a broad spectrum detector to see if it was radiating at any other electromagnetic frequencies you know radio, X ray, infra red."
"And "
"Nothing so far. There was also no ionizing radiation either, err radio activity."
"I guess that's good to know."
"Well, low level radio activity is quite harmless and it might have
pointed to a power source."
"What's next?"
"I'm going to do a fairly basic scan of the box and see if we can get a
look inside. This equipment is basically exactly the same as the scanners
that are used at airports so it should be quite safe, I don't want to do any
damage with anything too high energy."
It was a quick process but the results were hard to explain. Stewart
looked bemused.
"So, what has it shown?"
"Maybe the scanner has malfunctioned it's not given me any image
at all hold on."
Stewart placed a ball point pen, which just happened to be handy, on
the box and scanned it again."
"Wow!"
"What is it?"
"Look on the screen the pen has shown up, but the box supporting it
hasn't. It makes the pen look as if it's floating in mid-air Let me try
something else "
Stewart put the pen behind the box so that the box would shield the
pen from the scanner. He scanned again.
"I don't believe this look."
Pandora looked at the scanner screen.
"I can see the pen Stewart but not the box, how is that happening?"
Stewart shook his head.

24

"It's basically not possible. Somehow the scanner can't see the box at
all, but it doesn't shield anything behind it. It is as if the radiation is
passing straight through the box in the same way that light passes
through glass."
Without warning the broad spectrum detector which was continually
monitoring and recording any signals suddenly went off the scale.
"It looks as if we may have triggered something with the scanner; the
box is broadcasting a radio signal across quite a wide frequency range
Anyone within miles will be able to pick this up It almost looks like a
data stream "
"Can't you do something ? Can't you stop it?" Pandora was starting
to panic, this would be sure to alert the authorities.
"The scan is already off, there's nothing else I can do unless you can
see the off switch "

25

Chapter

The burst of radio signal lasted just over 12 seconds and then stopped.
"Wow, that was fascinating." said Stewart apparently unconcerned.
The data, along with a time code was automatically recorded.
Pandora breathed a sigh of relief.
"At least it was short. Do you think anyone could have picked it up?"
"Almost certain to have, but the short duration and the lack of anything intelligible that is intelligible to us, I should say, would mean
that it would probably be dismissed as a random static event not worth
investigating."
"Stewart, I have to admit that that sudden reaction to the scan has me
worried What if this thing is dangerous ? Could we set off
something harmful ? Could it even be a weapon of some kind? How
safe do you think it is.?"
"I guess I have been a little hasty. I'm used to studying things that
nature has thrown my way. Nature may be amoral but it doesn't lay
traps for you, but this thing maybe built by a devious mind who
knows."
"Let's make haste slowly then. Are there tests you can do that would
be unlikely to set anything else going?"
"I have to say that I can't be certain about anything but weight and
measurements should be OK. I'd like to get a close up look at its surface.
An optical microscope will be safe. I was going to try X raying it if the
scanner produced nothing, but after the reaction to the scan, I'm a little
reluctant."
Pandora looked pensive; there was something else that had been on
her mind.
"Stewart, we have to ask ourselves why this object was sealed in a pot
in the first place. The people of Varna were no less intelligent than we
are, just maybe ruled more by superstition than us They must have
had a reason for sealing it away. I think they either revered the object as
sacred somehow, or feared it and wanted it gone."

26

"I can easily imagine that the people who sealed the cube in the pot
would have considered it magical, supernatural because even with my
scientific background, I am finding it hard not to think of it in just those
terms. In some ways it appears to be contemptuous of my attempts to
probe its secrets."
"I feel just the same." added Pandora.
"Do you want to stop work on it Pandora? I can fully understand your
fears."
"Frankly Stewart I just don't know."
"This is what I suggest, I'll just do the basic weighing and measuring
today and we can think about how far to go later. Maybe we should discuss this with your favourite Professor."
"Hmm, maybe."
"What about the radio emission, you suggested it might be a data
stream."
"Yes, that was just a guess; actually that's not really my field But I
might know someone who has experience in looking at that sort of
thing but it would mean expanding the team."
"Would he have to know where you got the signal?"
"I suppose not, initially, but if there is some kind of message it would
be hard to keep him out of loop "
"Another question for Deakin maybe." Sighed Pandora.
"Why don't you go out for some fresh air and clear your thoughts, I'll
carry on for a while with the basics."
Pandora was quite happy to agree.
"You can take the Healey if you like."
"Are you sure?" Pandora knew that the car was Stewart's pride and
joy.
He tossed her the keys.
"Thanks, I won't be long, maybe I'll take a walk along the river." It had
been a while since she had walked the streets of Cambridge a town she
had known well as a student. As Pandora unlocked the car door she felt
a sudden warmness towards its owner. To be trusted with his baby in
such a casual way meant more than she could express even to herself.
It was a nice day and there were couples on the river engaged in the
time honoured ritual of punting. At this time of year most students had
left for their holidays and Cambridge felt almost deserted compared to
her recollections of the town.
Stewart busied himself with the box. He checked to see if it carried an
electric charge. The shock effect against bare skin was another

27

unexplained phenomenon. There was no electric charge that he could

measure. He weighted the box and took the dimensions. It was an exact
cube. In fact with the precision he could measure, every edge, every
angle was exactly the same. That in itself would be very difficult to
achieve, there would almost always be a small deviation somewhere.
Despite the restriction on destructive testing, he attempted to remove a
microscopic flake from one of the corners and found the surface to be
completely unyielding. It was certainly not made of gold which is a soft
metal. The box could not be marked with the hardest steel or a diamond
tipped probe.
He had just rigged up an optical microscope when a refreshed Pandora came back into the lab.
"Anything new." she asked, slipping the car keys into Stewart's pocket.
"I come bearing gifts." She said handing him a plastic wrapped sandwich and a takeaway coffee.
Steward suddenly noticed that he was quite hungry.
"Cheese and onion; my favourite."
"I remembered." smiled Pandora.
"Well I can confirm it's definitely an enigma." He said with a smile in
answer to her question.
"Let's have a look through this." The microscope showed that the surface was unusually smooth.
"Pandora take a look, the magnification is at 500 times."
Stewart attacked his sandwich while Pandora took her turn at the
eyepiece.
"Yes it looks unlike anything I've seen, the surface is perfect. The finest
engravings I've seen at this magnification look quite rough. Even polished flat surfaces are covered in fine scratches this is just so smooth. I
can't imagine how it was done."
"We are working on a nanotechnology project which involves building
up material from single atoms, from the ground up if you like. I have a
feeling that this was made by a similar technique though it's far in advance than anything we can do yet."
Stewart sat down, he looked deflated.
"All I've managed to do is just confirm what I could see with the naked
eye."
His phone rang, chiming a melody that Pandora recognized but was
unable to name.
"Stewart Moss "

28

"Ah, Stewart my boy, Professor Deakin here. Just wondered if you had
any news yet I appreciate its early days "
Stewart told him the little he had discovered and also about the burst
of possible data.
"It would be well worth getting another opinion on the signal if you
don't mind involving someone else." Stewart added.
"I'm reluctant to widen our little coterie unless necessary."
"I understand that, but so far it looks like the only avenue we have.
The potential dangers of doing further electronic probing are holding us
back."
"What does Pandora think?"
"I'll let you speak to her "
Stewart handed her his phone, she had heard the conversation so far.
"Professor, my view is that it is too dangerous to probe any more with
powerful scanners. I think if we need to make progress we have no
choice but to bring in a data expert."
"So Moss knows such a person, who is he?"
"I don't know, here's Stewart again."
"Professor, the person I know, I have to admit, has his flaws
gambling is his weakness I'm afraid, but his analytical brain is first class."
"What's his name?"
"Adrian Bancroft."
"Do you trust him?"
Stewart was slow to answer.
"I hear from your reluctance to reply that the answer may be in the
negative." Noted Deakin.
"I trust his mathematical abilities, less so his ethics."
Deakin recognized and acknowledged his own questionable ethics
which surfaced from time to time. Although he would never admit to
them outside his own thoughts.
"Very well as long as this chap isn't an out and out villain, let's use him
for our own ends. But keep his information on a need to know basis."
Deakin ended the call.
"So what does this Adrian Bancroft do?" asked Pandora as she brushed
the hair out of her eyes.
Stewart took another bite of his sandwich.
"Mathematician, but he does work for SETI. A lot of the data gets sent
around the world for analysis."
"SETI?" The word rang a bell but Pandora needed reminding.
"Don't laugh, the work they do is completely serious scientific study."

29

"I wasn't laughing Stewart, but you need to remind me what SETI is!"
"Oh sorry Search For Extra Terrestrial Intelligence."
Pandora couldn't help herself and started to giggle.
"Little green men Area 51 and all that."
Stewart stood silent for a moment. But he could see the funny side and
started to laugh himself.
No honestly, it serious stuff The search is scanning the sky using
massive antenna arrays and radio telescopes. NASA provides funding
among others These are the guys who first who identified Pulsars."
"Yes I'm sorry Stewart, I did know once you reminded me, I was just
winding you up."
Stewart prodded her in the ribs which started the giggles again.
"It's good to be with someone that I can let go with." Pandora said suddenly feeling a little shy.
"I know." Replied Stewart.
There was an awkward pause
"You see the sort of thing that SETI is looking for, may be exactly what
we may have received from inside the cube."
"So where can we find this ethically flawed Adrian Bancroft?"
"I'm hoping at the mathematics department I've got his number
somewhere "
After a short search he punched the number into his phone.
"Adrian, Hi, got a project you might be able to help with No we'll
come over to you see you shortly."
There was no way he wanted Bancroft in his lab at this stage.
Stewart put the cube in a secure observation case which he had prepared earlier. He started a time-lapse image capture device going in case
the low level optical radiation changed. He made sure the radio frequency detector was still operational. Finally he downloaded the cube's
signal to a USB flash drive.
"OK I think that's all, let's go and have a chat with our mathematician."
***
"Stewart."
"Adrian."
The two men shook hands.
"This is Pandora."
"Hello, let's go through to my office."
He led the way though a corridor of ancient darkened wood panelling
into a room which could have come straight from Victorian times except for the definitely twenty first century computer equipment.

30

Adrian Bancroft was shortish, just slightly overweight and had thinning hair, not quite a bald patch yet. He had not yet reached the august
age of 40 but was not far away. He had the peculiar and disturbing habit
of suddenly leaning backwards during a conversation as if he had seen a
cricket ball racing towards his head. He dressed in a fashion best described as 1950's shabby, complete with bow tie. Which was surprising
since he was not even born until twenty years after that decade had
ended. Maybe he had a stash of his grandfather's old clothes mused Pandora. Bancroft was a true eccentric in the classic British tradition. Surprisingly, despite his flaws, he had an usually successful record with the
gentler sex. Pandora appeared immune to whatever his charms were.
"Now Stewart, I hope this project of yours involves some decent recompense, as it happens I find myself a little strapped for cash at the
moment."
Steward and Pandora exchanged glances.
"I'm sure something could be arranged Based on results, of course."
Said Pandora.
"Quite so So what data have you got?"
Stewart handed over the flash drive. It went into the desk top on
Adrian's desk top.
"Mm well interesting, very interesting. Where did you get this?"
"Can't say actually it's a bit hush hush." Answered Stewart.
"OK why don't you guys leave me to it for a day or two, I'll get back to
you with my findings."
As they left Bancroft's office Pandora made an observation:
"He suddenly seemed in a hurry to get rid of us as soon as he saw
the data come up on his screen in fact."
"I noticed the same thing I hope my trust in him wasn't misplaced."
Adrian Bancroft's computer programme was designed to extract anything that might look like an intelligent signal from the background
noise. In this case it was immediately apparent to the mathematician that
there was no noise just an intelligent signal.

31

Chapter

As there was little more for her to do Pandora returned to London. She
had decided to go back to the Varna dig. The excitement caused by the
cube had been replaced by frustration. Her hopes rested on Adrian Bancroft finding something and frankly after her meeting with him, she had
little confidence that he would be able to so.
She arrived back home in the evening and found Lucy again on the
point of going out.
"Pandora Hello, how's it all going ?"
Lucy had not been told about the discovery but was astute enough to
have picked up that something unusual was happening.
"Generally, good Specifically, not so."
"Well now you're talking in riddles What does that mean?"
Pandora clarified her answer:
"I'm fine Lucy, but a project Stewart and I are working on has run into
a bit of a brick wall It was quite exciting but suddenly things have
come to a halt."
"Tell me more, I'm intrigued now."
"Well it's supposed to be secret "
"Secret I've got to know now come on spill the beans sister."
Pandora hesitated but in the end relented; she would only tell Lucy the
bare bones.
"OK, in Varna, we uncovered a pot, about six thousand years old "
"That's impressive but hardly Earth shattering!"
"I haven't finished yet "
Pandora collapsed into her favourite arm chair.
"Any chance of a cup of coffee?"
Lucy shrugged and turned on the kettle in the adjoining kitchen.
"And " Lucy prompted.
"Inside the pot was an object that didn't belong there, could not have
come from there It was a modern artefact and yet the pot had been
buried for six thousand years."

32

"Wow are you sure the pot wasn't dug up earlier and the artefact added and re-buried I'm thinking practical joke That would be "
"No, I can guarantee that didn't happen."
Lucy brought over the coffees and sat opposite her sister.
"So what's the brick wall?"
"We're trying to find out about the artefact, with no luck and we are
running out of ideas. There's a limitation on how much technology Stewart can use on the find."
"Why?"
"Err; it appears to be susceptible to err damage so we are pretty
much stuck with basic testing."
"OK So, just what is this artefact?"
"I can't say "
Lucy put on her best "lost puppy" expression and took a sip from her
coffee which was a little too hot.
"Just a clue you've got me intrigued now you know I'll just keep
on pestering you 'till you give in, so let's not waste time cut to the
chase!"
"The truth is, we don't know exactly what it is. It is a sort of a box, a
golden cube. That's the brick wall, we just can't find out what it is."
"OK, that will satisfy me for the moment, but there's more you're not
telling me "
"No, not really. When I find out what it is, if I ever do, you'll be the
first to know."
Pandora had said more than she wanted to and diverted the conversation onto her sister's love life.
"How was the date the other night?"
"Complete flop seems he was a Jehovah's Witness or some weird
cult and spent the entire evening trying to recruit me into the fold!"
"Oh bad luck, and tonight's date?"
"This one is really fit I'll let you know."
Lucy decided she didn't need her coffee and let herself out eager to
start her night out. Pandora was left alone she found herself missing
Stewart's company and decided to ring him.
"Hi, it's me."
"Hello how's my partner in crime?"
"I'm OK; I think I might as well head back to Varna There's nothing I
can do here for the moment. I feel a bit like a spare tail on a dog" she
said, using the polite form of the expression.
"Oh OK "

33

Pandora thought she detected a little disappointment in Stewart's

voice at the news that she was going back to Bulgaria, but she may have
been mistaken.
"I'll go into the lab early tomorrow, see if I get any brainwaves. I've got
notes to write up which I should have done today, but I got side
tracked "
"Are you sure there's no reason why I should stay on and help you I
don't want to disappear if you need me."
Stewart tried hard to think of something but
"Not really. You better get back to something useful, I've enjoyed your
company over the past day or two though "
The next morning Stewart got into the lab at about five past eight. As
he entered the still dark room his eye was drawn to the eerie glow coming from the containment chamber. Without turning on the fluorescent
lights he walked over for a better look. The cube was glowing as before
but in the reduced light it looked astonishing. He wondered what the
Neolithic people would have made of this piece of magic. As he stared at
the cube, it unexpectedly changed from gold to blue and then after a few
moments to red and back again to gold.
As he watched the detector suddenly reacted Another data stream
was being broadcast. By the time he had walked over to get the lights, it
had stopped again. He checked what the recorder had captured. To his
eyes it looked exactly the same as the previous time. The duration was
again 12 seconds. He would have to get Adrian to compare the two data
streams.
His first thought was that he wanted Pandora to know about the new
observations. He dialled her mobile number.
"Pandora, have you left for Bulgaria yet?"
"No."
"I think I have an excuse, err, reason for you to stay "
Pandora was on the first train back to Cambridge. It was eleven when
she burst into the lab. They hugged as if they had been apart for a year
not a few hours.
"Take a look at this "
He dragged Pandora to the containment chamber.
"What, it just looks the Oh wow it's changed colour When did this
start?"
"According to the image recorder it first changed at 22:57 last night
and has been oscillating between the three colours about every seven
seconds since then."

34

"I think we've found the optimum Christmas tree decoration." Pandora
laughed.
"Also there's been another data stream. It happened at 8:08 while I was
watching the colours. Adrian already has a copy and I'm waiting for his
call."
"It's as if the box is trying to tell us something."
"I know, but what If this is from an alien world, maybe the colour
sequence gold, blue, red is a recognised signal maybe a warning."
"Now you're scaring me, what sort of warning."
"I don't know, it may not be a warning at all "
"Stewart Let's suppose this box is a bomb. How dangerous could it
be do you think it's only a small cube after all?"
"That's a difficult question to answer If the box was full of gunpowder it would blow a decent sized hole in the lab wall. If it was
TNT it would blow up the lab We have to assume the box was made
by an advanced civilization it wouldn't use crude chemical explosives It would be more likely to turn the mass of the box directly into
energy."
"Like an atomic bomb?"
"I doubt very much that our box is an atomic bomb, not in the crude
way that our technology makes them, but the same basic principal a
small amount of mass yields a huge amount of energy. For example 1
gramme of matter, a few drops of water say would, if we knew how to
unleash it, yield the equivalent explosive power of more than 21,000 tons
of TNT. Our box has a little over 250 times that amount of matter. Let's
just say it would make a mess!"
Pandora went pale.
"Among people who think about these things," Stewart added. "The
current view is that any civilization with the capability to do that sort of
thing would be far too intelligent to waste it's time making weapons."
"Unlike us humans you mean, I hope you're right."
"From my observations Pandora, humankind has a long way to go before it can consider itself truly intelligent."
Pandora nodded, though she thought there might be exceptions.
"So you don't think it's a weapon?"
"Frankly, it makes no sense to me, why would an advanced civilization plant a bomb and just abandon it for thousands of years?"
"I hope you're right Stewart."
"So do I."
Stewart's phone rang, it was Adrian.

35

"Just to confirm, Stewart, that second data stream is exactly the same
as the first one You really have to tell me where these signals are coming from It could help me unravel things if I knew more."
"OK I'll be in touch."
Stewart ended the call.
"That was Adrian, the second signal was just a repeat, but he's pushing
for more information "
"Would it really hurt to show him the box?" Asked Pandora.
"Well as long as we have control of it I don't see what harm he could
do Maybe just show him a photo to keep him quiet. Do we ask
Deakin?"
"No damn it, it was my team that found the box, it's time I started taking responsibility Deakin is just out for the personal glory. Let's show
Adrian a photo and give him a few details."
***
"That's an amazing story Pandora. The box is invisible to scanning as
well you say. It's the most amazing thing I've ever encountered. Do you
think I could keep the photo?"
"I'm sorry Adrian, but we need to keep the whole story as secret as
possible for the time being. Anyway the less you know the safer you'll
be."
"Yes I see what you mean." Adrian replied, tapping the side of his nose
to indicate he understood her meaning about being safer, which he
didn't.
"So, have you managed to uncover anything in the signal?"
"Yes, it's a digital signal, definitely not random, there appear to be repeated sequences as you would expect in an intelligent message but I
can't tell if it is a sequence of numbers or letters, or something else entirely the permutations are huge. If you were trying to decipher a coded
message from a known language, then you would have a starting point.
But from this "
Eventually Stewart and Pandora were able to make their escape.
Adrian's brain had spent as much time working out how he could
make a profit from the discovery as it had on trying to decipher the message. He picked up his phone and retrieved a number from a small wellthumbed note book.
"Kelly, my darling. It's Adrian Bancroft. I was just sitting in my dusty
office when your beautiful face just came to me from nowhere. I suddenly got the urge to see you again We used to have such fun Pick
you up at seven Fantastic."

36

Kelly Marsden was an attractive woman of thirty five, she would admit to twenty nine and in fact looked younger than that. Wearing a
pretty summer cotton dress, printed with a flower motif, with her chestnut hair which fell seductively yet somehow demurely across her
shoulders and her soft green eyes she looked like a nice sweet young
girl. The reality was a little different. In many ways she was out for what
she could get and in this respect she rather resembled Adrian. She had a
prodigious appetite for sex and on their last encounter had left Adrian
physically drained and herself pleasantly satiated. His phone call out of
the blue suggested more of the same to her
They were already undressing each other as they climbed the stairs to
Adrian's studio apartment. Adrian had moved residence since the last
time they had met almost a year ago. Kelly barely noticed his new and
cherished view of the winding river Cam which presented itself through
his bedroom window like a framed painting
As they lay on the bed still out of breath with beads of sweat sparkling
on their naked skin Adrian got to the other reason for his sudden reawakened passion for the sweet Kelly.
"Darling "
"Mm "
"You remember last time we met, you said something about a guy
who was interested in paying for information about "
"Collectables yes of course. I mentioned it at the time because, with
your connections I thought you might come across something and I
know you are always looking for a little extra cash " She gave a little
girlish giggle.
"Exactly so Does this guy still move in the same circles as you?"
"Dudley, absolutely I thought you knew, we got married just after
last Christmas darling, he's such a sweet man I suppose you'd like his
number?"
Adrian, despite his own relaxed morals, was taken aback by the marriage revelation. However he eagerly agreed that the number might
prove useful.
"I'll let you have it when we've finished darling "
Kelly started walking her fingers across Adrian's chest in a most seductive way and gently licked his nipples with her pink tongue. Adrian
wasn't at all sure he could oblige again so soon but gave it his best shot.
***
At 4.33 am the following morning. The laboratory detector responded
to another burst of signal from the cube.

37

When Stewart got into the lab at 8:30 he noticed straight away as he
had set the computer to flash up a message on the screen in the event of
any activity. He had started comparing the signal with the previous two
when Pandora came into the lab. Despite Stewart's offer of a spare foldup bed, she had taken a room at the Viscount, a presentable but inexpensive hotel within walking distance of the lab.
"Hi, how was the hotel?"
"OK, but I'm not a hotel sort of a girl actually."
"The offer of the fold-up is still there."
"I'll think about it I don't want to be a nuisance to you Anything
new?"
"Another signal, I'm 90 per cent sure it's just another repeat. But one
thing I've noticed, the time between the signals is getting shorter
and You couldn't"
"Couldn't what?"
"Be a nuisance "
Pandora smiled.
"What could it mean that the repeat time is getting shorter?"
"Well I've only come up with one theory so far It looks as if it might
be a countdown eventually the time between the signals will become
zero "
"Oh no! What's going to happen then?"
"Well I said I don't think it's a bomb, and I still don't but what events
need a count down?"
"A rocket launch, New Year's Day could be anything."
Stewart set to work on a spread sheet. He entered the initial time of the
first signal and the times of the next two. After a few moments he produced a graph with the projected time sequence down to zero.
"OK this looks to make sense. The second signal repeated after 13
hours and a few seconds. The second signal was after 12 hours and 25
minutes, the third was after 11 hours and 50 minutes. The time has reduced by 35 minutes and a few seconds each time. That's a simple arithmetic progression. The calculation is simple assuming the signal continues repeating as it has done so far we will reach zero on the 15th at
15:38."
"That's only a couple of weeks away!"
***
Across London there was a phone call:
"James my son just got a call from one of my contacts, a certain Dudley Parminter who has information about something very interesting "

38

"Henry I don't want to know names just tell me what we're talking
about."
"Seems there's this gold box that, don't laugh, this is straight up
could be an alien what's-name artefact."
"You've got to be kidding me Henry. My man didn't come down with
the last shower he'd laugh his socks off if I gave him that."
"Look, God's honest truth, I quizzed Dud err my contact real well. I
didn't believe him myself at first but it seems this came from a University
professor who's investigating the box. It's all top secret, but, get this
the box is being looked after by a bunch of amateurs, some Cambridge
boffins should be a doddle for the right team to lift it."
"OK at the risk of being made to look like a fool, I'll pass this up the
line If you're right about this we could be in for a decent pay day I'll
be in touch."

39

Chapter

The helicopter was flying fast and low, it skimmed the pristine snow and
followed down the slope into the bottom of a narrow gully. It felt almost
like skiing skiing in a cocoon at a two hundred clicks. With the minimal ground clearance they were maintaining, the impression of speed was
fantastic. Suddenly the aircraft lifted into the air and curved up and
around the side of a solid cliff of ice and snow and then down into the
next valley. A swirl of powdery snow was driven up behind them in
their wake and was left spiralling in the frozen air as the helicopter
powered down the valley just feet above the virgin white winter-scape.
"Show us what it's got David "
The collector was in awe of the skill his ex-air-force pilot had behind
the controls a machine, car or aircraft he was an ace. The collector only
employed the best.
David gained height and for a moment the sense of speed was lost as
the helicopter reached the top of its climb. As it arced downward, the
two occupants became suddenly weightless for a second. The machine
tilted forwards so that the men felt there was nothing underneath them
but the ice and rock of the mountains. Then the plunge down took The
Collector's breath away. The sense of speed returned as the machine
hurled down into another valley. This one was open and spread out in
front of them like a vast white playground. They were skimming just
above the snow going at near maximum speed 250km an hour.
"Fantastic flying!" He yelled over the sound of engine and chopping
blades.
"We should be getting back, the fuel is running low."
"Up here you're the boss David, whatever you say."
The machine slowed as it climbed up above the peaks and revealed the
view across to the horizon. There was just a light cloud cover with a high
base and from their present altitude the landscape stretched out before
them like a Lilliputian World. David curved eastward and soon the lake
could be seen picked out by the Sun. From up here it sparked like a silver jewel. They flew over the length of the northern arm of lake, not

40

because it was a direct route but because it was there. They then
gained height again and soon saw home territory.
David made his usual skilful touch down on the landing pad and as
the Rolls Royce engine wound down, calm descended once again on
Shadow Fall.
A small tractor was brought to tow the Bell Jet 407 back into its
hangar.
The collector slapped his pilot on the back and shook his hand.
"That was just brilliant, thanks for that."
"It was my pleasure sir, now if you'll excuse me I have to put my baby
to be bed." David followed the mini tractor towards the hangar.
The collector looked out across the tussock and saw two riders approaching from the lower slopes of the valley. He shielded his eyes with
the flat of his hand to get a clearer view. They were maintaining a slow
and relaxed canter and heading his way. He waved and waited for them
to reach him. One of the riders was Perdita; the other was Christina, his
house keeper.
When he had employed Christina, she asked if she could keep a horse
on the property. The collector was fond of horses from a distance, but
could not ride and had no desire to do so. But he found the idea of
horses on his property was an attractive one and immediately agreed.
Christina was a born and bred South-lander and an excellent natural
horse woman; she had enough savings to buy a decent animal and proposed visiting the upcoming horse sale at Dunedin. The collector offered
to buy her a horse if she would teach Perdita to ride and the deal was
struck. Perdita had been on horseback as a child and loved the animals
but had not been in the saddle for years. She was overjoyed at the idea.
On the day of the sale, the three of them, accompanied by John Philips
the farm manager, arrived to see what was on offer. Christina was immediately drawn to a magnificent thoroughbred chestnut but it was reserved at an extortionate price so she found a handsome but less exceptional almost black animal with white socks and a star on its forehead
which she was more than happy with. Together with Perdita they selected a mild mannered Arab cross with a kind eye and a loping gate. This
was an ideal mount for an inexperienced rider. For Perdita it was love at
first sight.
"Are you happy with your choice, Christina?"
"Oh yes that horse will be fantastic, thank you."
"It's just that I saw you looking at the chestnut, he's a fine chap don't
you think."

41

"Yes sir but rather expensive."

"Perdy, you happy with your pick?"
She was. The Collector had a few words with Philips and got him to
bid while he took the two women for coffee.
Under instructions, Philips bought all three horses and Christina was
presented with the magnificent chestnut as a gift.
The two riders had now reached their destination. Perdita dismounted
and slipped a chunk of carrot, which she pulled from her pocket, under
her horse's soft muzzle. The feel of the gentle lips carefully taking the
offered treat gave as much pleasure to Perdita as the carrot did to her
horse. Christina took her reins, I'll take care of them she said and walked
the horses to the recently constructed stables.
"Thanks for the ride Christina."
"It was my pleasure, madam."
Perdita turned to her husband.
"Hello darling, good flight?"
"Fantastic, that 407 goes like a sports car, at least with David at the
controls And how was your ride?"
"Yes it was very enjoyable not as fast as yours. I'm really starting to
feel really at home in the saddle now, It's a great feeling, the power of a
horse underneath you, both of you working together, quite special
You should try it."
"Hmm maybe."
"By the way, I almost forgot your secure in box has been blinking "
"Has it This is turning into a pretty good day."
He immediately headed for the homestead.
"I'll see you back there." He called over his shoulder as he paced the
gravel driveway up to the main gate eager to see what message Benson
had sent him.
Once inside, without bothering to change he typed in his lengthy password and read the message, it started with the date and time and
continued:
There's a possibility of an artefact of unusual origin, possibly ALIEN!
Currently held in UK at Cambridge. The description I have is of a
small golden box that from time to time sends out a short radio signal so far undeciphered. If proven correct this box will be the most valuable
find in the history of mankind.
The box is at its most vulnerable at present as the authorities are unaware of its existence.
Are you interested?

42

The message was unsigned.

The collector was stunned. He wanted unusual collectables, but this
if it was really alien, would exceed his wildest dreams.
His reply was made straight away and consisted of three small words:
"Yes, yes, yes!"
The Collector's message had come to him from Charles Benson in New
York. He described himself as an entrepreneur which meant he had his
fingers in many pies. Many of the pies he fingered did not actually belong to him.
He had met The Collector years ago and they had identified each other
as useful mutual contacts. Benson was a consummate deal maker and
had an ability to find things that others wanted. The Collector, even back
then, saw the possibilities of such an individual.
Benson was in his fifties, silver haired and carried his somewhat overweight frame rather well in his expensively cut suits. He adorned himself with substantial emblems of wealth, heavy gold ring, Rolex watches
and so on, which gave him an air of success and the confidence, however
unwarranted, of those he met.
Benson had established a network of contacts which spread across the
world. Some were legitimate business contacts, others were not. His
dealings with the Collector were these days confined mostly to the latter
category.
For a considerable reward, he had been able to source many of The
Collectors museum pieces. Now from his tendrils which stretched into
the United Kingdom came what he hoped would be the most significant
find of all.
The collector fired of another email:
"This is so interesting; I would like to be involved in the acquisition at
each stage. Please keep me informed step by step. The rewards for you
will be substantial. As usual the utmost security is needed."
He ended the message with a warning:
"Don't forget, if anything goes wrong I will know who to blame."
The Collector found Benson to be useful to him but knew that the
American's motivation was only self-interest. He felt no affinity for the
man and trusted him only so far. He thought it prudent to occasionally
issue a vague warning. A warning with unstated consequences. Benson
knew that he would be unwise to incur The Collector's displeasure.
Benson wasted no time in organizing a team in the UK. He already
had contacts with several people who were skilled the sort of operation
he had in mind. For a project of this nature his first choice for team

43

leader was a woman. Juliette Gilot. She was French but lived in London
and had just a trace of accent which added to her charm. Her background was with the French security services but for her own safety after
a bungled operation, she found it prudent to live outside her native
country under an assumed name. She undertook commissions which
utilized her particular skills.
Tall, slim, blond with blue eyes, she had the look of a Scandinavian.
Still athletic at forty she was sophisticated and attractive if not pretty.
Her appearance still managed to turn heads when she was dressed for
the part. The phone call came at just before six in the evening, lunch time
in New York.
"Charles, I assume this is not a social call. I expect you have an offer of
work for me."
"Indeed I do. I need to organize a small team. I thought immediately of
you as the ideal person to head up this little group."
"You flatter me."
"Not at all, you have all the skills needed. The job will involve surveillance to locate an item and then the item will need "liberating". Once that
has been accomplished you involvement will be over. There is a large
sum on offer Does it grab your interest?"
"Charles, you make it sound too easy Naturally I have an interest
but I would be foolish to commit myself to something with so little detail Tell me more, what is the item?"
"The item will appear as a gold box but it has greater significance for
my Patron who is very keen to own it."
"What size is this box?'
"I am not sure of its exact size; it would be part of the surveillance to
establish the exact details."
"Do you mean to say, Charles that the buyer is not certain that he
wants it until after we discover more about It.?
"No He wants it badly. He knows enough about it already to want
it but not exactly what it is."
"You are making your usual cryptic sense Charles."
"Juliette, it's a box of unusual origin that only a handful of people have
seen, there is no accurate description of it."
"Fascinating!"
"Are you in Juliette?"
"Who is in possession of the item at the moment?"
"Some University academics."

44

"Good, a soft target I suspect. Do we have names for these academics

or photographs?"
"Names yes and I know where they can be found."
"That should be enough, I can handle the rest. OK Charles, I think I
can do this for you. Subject to negotiating a fee of course."
"Good, very good. Now, I have some names for your team, or would
you rather come up with some of your own?"
"I always prefer to work with people I know unless I need specialist
assistance Is there any indication of that being necessary?"
"No I think it should be a straight forward operation as long as we act
quickly."
"Thank you Charles, give me a day to organize a team, another two
men should be enough to handle this. I will call you tomorrow for detailed instructions Oh and Charles, make me a realistic fee offer, I don't
want to waste my time."
Juliette knew who she wanted. Walter was officially a private detective. But one who would do anything if the price was right. His
"surveillance" skills were of a suitably professional level she knew of no
one better at following a target without being seen except possibly herself. Walter also had the advantage of looking very ordinary, the sort of
man who would not warrant a second look. The other was a young lad,
Mickey, who she had been forced to beat up rather badly after he broke
into her flat. If it had been someone else's flat, the lad would have been
successful but confronted with Juliette's abilities he came off second best.
Strangely she had taken a liking to the cheeky young lad and had felt remorse for the broken arm and bruised ribs. Mickey was keen to advance
his career in a more professional way and became her eager student in
the ways of "undercover work". What Juliette didn't know about Mickey
was that he saw himself as a big time gangster. His distorted sense of
reality may have changed Juliette's mind in selecting him for her team
if she had been aware of it.
Nor did Juliette know that Mickey had recently acquired a Glock automatic pistol on one of his "midnight shopping" expeditions. That piece of
information would certainly have changed her mind.

45

Chapter

The following lunchtime Pandora found herself with nothing useful to

do and went into town to do some essential shopping. She couldn't help
feeling guilty at leaving her team in Varna to their own devices and was
musing on the possibility of returning there. It was becoming increasingly clear to her that whatever secrets the box held would not be uncovered by her, probably not by Stewart either. It was decoding the signal that held the best hope. That was out of their hands, worse it was in
the hands of someone Pandora didn't altogether trust.
As she wandered around the shops she kept seeing a young guy,
maybe nineteen or twenty with a bad case of acne and short cropped
hair. His appearance was quite distinctive and Pandora could easily recognize him. He seemed to be roaming about aimlessly but always reappeared not far from her after a few moments. Pandora found this unsettling. She was already on edge with the idea that the box was counting down to some unknown event. The thought that someone was following her increased her discomfort by an order of magnitude. Eventually she saw Mr Acne, as she had named him, jump on a bus and disappear. She sighed with relief and headed back to her modest room at the
Viscount. She needed to unload her purchases and get some lunch.
She made a call to Stewart:
"Hi, anything new?" She asked.
"Adrian still has made no real progress, he says the signal is almost
certainly an intelligent message of some kind but can't say what."
Pandora was in a suspicious frame of mind after the recent events and
asked:
"You don't think he's making progress and keeping the information to
himself do you? For sale to the tabloids for example, those people would
fall over themselves with offers of cash for a story like that."
Stewart thought for a moment, in fact the idea had not crossed his
mind before, he just tended to trust people, took them at face value.
But

46

"I hope you're wrong, but, now you've raised the issue, he has been
asking a lot of questions like where do we keep the box? He's framed
the questions under the pretext of wanting to be sure that our security is
sound but he could equally have more devious motives."
"You haven't told him where the box is have you?"
"Not specifically no, but it wouldn't take a genius to work out that my
lab would be a good place to start looking not to mention the fact that
Adrian actually is a genius. The man's IQ is off the scale!"
"Hmm, this is all making me feel even more nervous."
Pandora paused to gather her thoughts.
"Stewart I may be wrong but I had the feeling I was being followed
this afternoon. Everywhere I went there was this young guy just on the
edge of my peripheral vision. I tried walking in a circle to give him the
slip, but he was still there. If he hadn't been so weedy looking, I would
have been quite frightened."
"What happened were you able to give him the slip?"
"In the end he caught a bus and disappeared but I found it unsettling."
"That doesn't sound good, are you at the Viscount?"
"Yes, just got in I was reluctant to come back while I thought I was
being followed. I didn't want him to know where I was staying."
"OK, that was sensible. I'll come round; we need to make a plan. I'll see
you in about forty five minutes."
It took Stewart just a few minutes to finish what he had been doing.
He looked at the box in its containment chamber and realized just how
vulnerable to theft it was. Naively, the thought had just not occurred to
him before. It was only what Pandora had just said about being followed
that had raised his awareness. As he watched the cube's hypnotic colour
change, the sensor detected another signal. He looked at his watch 14:18,
exactly as predicted by his graph. With the signal that was recorded at
19:38 last night, there could be little doubt now that box was on a countdown. But a countdown to what?
He made an on the spot decision to make the box safer and packed it
in a plastic container, sealed the lid and placed it inside a vacuum chamber which was one of many pieces of equipment in the lab. To anyone
unfamiliar with the vacuum chamber, it would not be obvious that anything would be hidden inside. It just looked like a heavy gauge stainless
steel tube with pipework leading to a pump, pressure gauges and heavy
bolts holding it together. Just an ordinary piece of specialist laboratory
equipment. There was a glass inspection window at one end which he

47

blocked off with a piece of metal foil from the inside and then tightened
up the cover with the bolts.
He felt happier knowing that the artefact was not on display any more.
Anyone wanting to find it would have to take the whole lab to pieces.
On his way out he made sure the deadbolt lock on the heavy door was
secure and made his way out to where the Healey was parked. Happy
that everything was secure he made his way the short distance to the
Viscount Hotel.
He didn't notice the tall woman riding a motor cycle keeping a discrete
but steady gap behind him.
"Come in Stewart, grab a chair." Pandora poured him a glass of red
wine and topped up her own.
"Have you had any lunch?"
"Yes I'm fine I had a sandwich earlier."
"Stewart, I think we should just hand the box in to the authorities It's
getting to be too much for us to deal with."
"Have you spoken to Deakin?"
"I rang him while I was waiting for you His opinion as I expected is
that we need to maximize the benefits for the college, and his own reputation I suspect."
"In other words he wants to hold onto it until we can prove its
origins?"
"Yes. I think that sums up his position."
"If you go against his wishes will he make things difficult for you?"
"I think he will He'll probably drive me from the college; he could
put quite a bump in my career path."
Stewart looked serious.
"That would be bad for you, and for the college as well I suspect."
"Deakin wants something to boost his reputation. Something he can
publish."
"The way things are going, we are going to reach zero on the countdown long before we can answer any questions about what it is long
before any papers can be published"
"The countdown is partly what worries me Just what will happen at
zero hour?"
Stewart looked at Pandora searchingly.
"Are you really scared?"
"Yes I am. I don't feel in control of the situation we don't know what
is going to happen when the countdown is over. And now there might
be someone following me."

48

"If you really want to hand it in then I'm a hundred per cent behind
you. It's your decision as far as I'm concerned."
"Thanks Stewart it's good to know I have your support, I know I'd
have a battle with Deakin to contend with if I called the authorities I'm
not sure I could handle that on my own at the moment."
"I guess the big problem we have is not knowing what will happen
when the countdown is over. There may be a spectacular event, or
maybe the signal itself is the event and when the countdown is over, the
signal will just stop and the box will become dormant again."
"What's your best guess, Stewart?"
"I fundamentally believe that really intelligent beings would be at
heart good. I don't think an advanced civilisation would be roaming the
universe leaving "land mines" for innocents to stumble onto. So I think
your box will turn out to be benign. Its function may be beyond our capacity to understand. A philosopher, an evolutionary biologist actually,
Haldane I think his name was, said that, the universe is not only stranger
than we think, it is stranger than we CAN think."
"That's quite a profound idea it's almost as if the box is showing us
just how pathetically little we really understand."
Stewart spent a few moments in thought. He took a sip of his wine and
then said:
"Suppose we could fine somewhere safe to keep the box until the
countdown has passed. Somewhere remote where it would be unlikely
to do any harm and where no one could find it. Would that be a sensible
compromise?"
Pandora took a mouthful of her wine, mirroring Stewart. She let it roll
across her tongue. Stewart thought she looked sad and vulnerable; he
wanted to hold her but did nothing.
"Actually." She said "There is a place I know "
"Tell me more "
"My parents have a farm in Dorset "
"Yes I seem to remember you mentioning it."
"Well in the far corner at the base of a rocky cliff is the fenced off remains of an old quarry. There's a pond of water, quite deep in the
middle, and I was forbidden to go there as a child So obviously I spent
a lot of time climbing the fence and catching tadpoles, making rafts and
so on "
"Doesn't sound too promising so far "
"Ah but in the top corner next to a sheer rock face, are the remains of
an old explosives store. It was strongly built out of cast concrete with a

49

heavy iron door and I suppose we could even fit a safe inside It might
just be the perfect spot, quite remote, on private land and no one ever
goes there."
"I think you might have just made a sale."
Pandora managed to smile at Stewart, she took his hand.
"You know Stewart; I feel a little better now that we have come up
with a plan, even if it's just a short term one."
"Where does one get a safe do you think?" Asked Stewart.
"Oh I have one of those in my bedroom in London!"
"Really!"
"It was left by the previous tenant; it's bolted inside a cupboard."
"Will it come out; is it small enough to move?"
Pandora nodded. "You just have to open it and the bolts are accessible
from inside. I think it was intended to keep documents and so on safe it's
only about this big " She held her hands apart to indicate a cube about
the size of a small microwave oven.
"You do have the combination?"
"Yes, there's even a booklet that explains how to change the
combination."
"Do you feel like driving down to London now, this afternoon and getting it? Then tomorrow we could visit your parent's farm with the box."
"Yes, sounds good, you could sleep on my couch again. If you're lucky
we may be able to get Lucy to cook you some of her famous Penne Bolognese, I think you'd like it "
***
The drive to London was uneventful. But Stewart was a little wary, the
thought that Pandora was under surveillance made him keep a lookout
for anyone following them. He chose not to share his fears with Pandora
who was still on edge even though she was putting on a brave face.
It was early evening when they arrived and the flat was empty. Pandora showed Stewart the safe. She punched in the code on the electronic
pad and with the aid of a key soon had the door open. The safe was
empty and the bolts attaching the safe to the wall's studs were easily
visible.
"Got any tools?" Stewart asked.
"Ah "
"Good job there's a tool box in the Healey then "
He went out to the car which was parked in front of the flat and returned with a socket set.

50

It took only a few minutes to undo the bolts but the safe was far heavier than they had expected. It took both of them to lower it to the floor.
The front door opened and Lucy came in, back from work. She had
taken a year's study break, in order to see the world but had got side
tracked as she often did.
Her personality was as bubbly as ever.
"Burglars " She called attacking Stewart with a cushion.
"Lucy, put that offensive weapon down and get busy. I've promised
Stewart that you'll provide him with pasta."
The two sisters hugged and Stewart got a kiss.
"What's happening with the safe?"
"We just need somewhere secure to keep the box."
"Have you discovered any more?"
Lucy was on a fishing expedition, still intrigued by all the secrecy. If
there was one thing that caught her attention it was a secret.
"No, Lucy it's quite frustrating "
It was clear that Pandora didn't want to discuss the box and Lucy let
the subject drop for the moment. Instead she took out her frustration
with a sharp knife on a couple of innocent onions.
After dinner which lived up to the promise, all three of them struggled
with the safe and finally had it in the Healey's boot.
"I really love these old cars." Lucy said while polishing her fingerprints
off the red paintwork with her sleeve.
"Yes well you haven't just rattled your way down here from Cambridge in it." Laughed Pandora.
"It's even further to Dorset." Added Stewart. "Sure you can make it."
"Oh, only joking, the old girl is quite comfortable actually."
"Dorset!" Chimed Lucy. "Are you going to the farm? Another piece of
the jigsaw falls into place!"
They sat talking until late.
"I think we better leave Stewart to the couch." Pandora said to her
sister.
"Oh aren't you two sharing "
She seemed disappointed.
"OK, I'll see you in the morning. Good night my darlings."
Lucy disappeared into her own room.

51

Chapter

The next morning the two of them said their good byes to Lucy and
headed back to Cambridge to collect the box. It was still quite early when
they set off and the light traffic allowed them to make good time. Stewart
parked the car in its usual spot, and they made their way through the
still deserted college. As they approached Stewart's lab he stopped suddenly as he saw the door swinging open.
"Stay here." he whispered to Pandora and peered through the
doorway.
"Be careful Stewart " Pandora whispered.
He edged his way inside the lab and saw that everything looked fairly
normal. No vandalism or damage was visible. More importantly there
were no intruders still inside.
"It's OK the place is empty come in."
Pandora gingerly followed Stewart inside. The door lock had apparently been pulled out with a slide hammer or something similar. It was
obvious things had been moved, the place had been systematically
searched, but there was very little damage.
"This looks like the work of professionals." Pandora observed.
"I have to agree. It looks as if they were here for something specific
the box."
"Where is the box?" Asked Pandora.
"I hope it's "
Stewart undid the bolts on the vacuum chamber.
"It's still here Thank God I was spooked enough yesterday to hide
it!"
"Well done you!" Pandora said.
She was concerned that some "professionals" were after the box but
also angry that someone had betrayed them.
"Do you think this is down to Adrian Bancroft?"
Stewart nodded.
"That would be my best bet "
"What are we going to do now?"

52

"I think we should carry on with the plan, the sooner this box is somewhere safe the better I just hope we won't get followed. These people
are obviously determined to get the box and they haven't succeeded yet,
I doubt they will have given up."
"So you do think I was followed yesterday?"
"Probably they would have to find out our comings and goings to
know where to start looking. I wouldn't mind betting that I was followed
too."
Pandora fell silent. Her expression darkened.
"What if we led them to London ? Lucy could be in danger "
"I know, but when I drove down to your place I kept a close lookout
for any vehicles that might be tailing us. I didn't say anything, but after
what you said about being followed I was on the lookout."
"And you didn't see anything?"
"Not a thing That's no guarantee of course, if these people are good
at their job But you spotted the guy following you so they are not
perfect."
"I'm going to ring Lucy to warm her."
It was still only eight and Lucy had not left the flat yet.
"Lucy, don't get over worried but I think it would be a good idea if
you went to stay at a friend's place for a few days."
"This is about that box isn't it?"
"Yes Stewart's lab was broken into there was no damage and we
still have the box, but We may have been followed they may target
our flat next."
"Oh God no "
"Don't panic Lucy darling, can you stay at Fiona's for a few days? I'm
certain if our place is going to be broken into it will be very soon, probably today Whoever these people are, if they think the box is in our flat
they won't want it to be moved before they get to it, so they will act
quickly."
Lucy was close to tears. Pandora could hear her sniffing into a tissue.
"What about calling the police?" Lucy asked.
"Better not I'm so sorry about this darling, everything will be all
right. These people have no interest in you, just the box. Actually Stewart
is pretty certain that we weren't even followed to London I'm probably
just over reacting."
"OK Pandora, ring me soon and you be careful too."
Pandora ended the call, and blew her own nose.
"I'm beginning to wish we had never found that damned box!"

53

She found herself burying her face in Stewart's chest as he closed his
arms around her.
***
They drove around Cambridge for fifteen minutes going up and down
the ancient roads while they kept a close lookout for any signs of being
followed. There were none. Stewart headed for the motorway south. It
was relatively easy to see if you were being followed on the motorway
by speeding up and slowing down to see if anyone did the same. It
looked as if they were in the clear and the mood brightened.
The route took them down to Southampton then across the New
Forest. It was a nice day and the Healey 3000 purred along unlike a car
in its sixth decade. Stewart could definitely feel the weight of the safe in
the boot in the way that the car cornered but driving a classic was supposed to be an involving experience.
The car eventually turned into the lane which led to Beacon Hill Farm
and Stewart slowed to walking speed to avoid the worst of the bumps,
the Healey's ground clearance was not a strong point. They came to a
halt on a flagstone paved courtyard surrounded by farm buildings on
the lower side. There was a view down to some rolling pasture straight
ahead. On their right stood the sandstone farm house where Pandora
had grown up. The house was old, a hundred and eighty years perhaps,
and like an old man had a somehow stooped appearance but with a welcoming and trustworthy visage. The woodwork was in need of painting
in some places but the big heavy door with brass knocker, shone with a
new white coat and there really were roses clinging to a trellis around it.
"This scene looks as if it has been lifted from a Constable painting!"
Said Stewart.
"I know "
Her parents were expecting them. Susan, Pandora's mother came out
when she heard the car pull up and gave her eldest daughter a look
which said "It's been too long since your last visit." She followed this
up with hugs and kisses.
"Your Dad's down on the bottom meadow, doing some fence repair
work I think." Her voice was now a little frail but her intense blue eyes
sparkled like those of a young woman.
"This is Stewart " Pandora really wanted her parents to like him for a
reason she could not quite explain.
Susan offered her time worn fingers to Stewart and they shook hands
warmly in a way which implied an unstated expectation of a long
friendship.

54

"Come in, I've got the kettle on."

They were just engaged with instant coffee and fresh baked date and
walnut cake when Dan burst into the Kitchen. He held out his arms.
"Come here my lovely "
Pandora was crushed by her father's embrace. Held in those arms she
felt, despite her age and position in life, that she was back to being a little
girl in the safest place on earth.
"You must be Stewart "
His firm handshake spoke of an honest and open man that you could
trust. Dan felt Stewart's handshake to be of the same order. They smiled
at each other.
"Well Mother where's my coffee?"
Pandora had already explained the evening before on the phone what
they had wanted to do and Dan was keen to help.
"Now lad, that safe will be in the boot I expect "
"Yes, Mr Summers."
"Good God lad, call me Dan Well let's have a look then."
Years of farm work had left Dan with a strength not usually found in a
man of his age. Stewart was surprised to see him lift the heavy safe out
of the car's boot on his own. He thought back to the night before when it
taken three of them to put it in there.
"I'll get the tractor to take it down to the quarry." He said and headed
off into one of the out buildings. There was the sound of a starter motor
struggling against the engine compression and then rattle of the diesel
and a cloud of exhaust smoke as it started.
There was a back loader, with hydraulically driven lift fitted to the
back of the machine. A large tool box and some welding equipment were
already there. Stewart and Dan lifted the safe onto the back loader.
"OK all aboard "
Pandora was used to riding on the back of her dad's tractor; it was
new experience for Stewart. The ride, as they bounced down towards the
far corner of the property made his old Healey feel like Bentley by
comparison.
Stewart could see why this place had come to Pandora's mind. It was
perfect. The access was only through the farm so it was very unlikely
that anyone would come down here by accident and it was well away
from the farm house. The explosives store was solid, dry and was perfect
for what they had in mind.
Dan busied himself with connecting a hydraulic line to the tractor's
drive and fitted a drill to the other end.

55

"Got any bolts for the safe?" Dan asked.

"Only the ones that held it in Pandora's flat." Stewart answered; I hope
they will be long enough."
"Well I put some sturdy ones in the tool box just in case."
He got Stewart to mark up where the holes should be and made short
work of drilling through the concrete with a masonry bit. As the two
men held up the safe Pandora slipped bolts into the holes and then went
round the back of the concrete building and threaded the nuts on.
"Couldn't someone just unbolt these if they wanted to steal the safe?"
"I've thought of that." Her father said." He used the oxyacetylene to
weld the ends of the bolts making it almost impossible to remove the
safe without cutting gear.
"Job done "Dan was satisfied with his work.
"Now are you going to show me the secret artefact?"
"It's still in the car, let's go and get it."
They took the box inside the house and put it on the table next to the
remains of the date and walnut cake. Pandora couldn't help a little laugh
at the contrast between the so normal setting and the other worldly look
of the box.
Her parents hovered over the artefact.
"It's so beautiful " Said Susan "And so strange "
"It affects everyone the same way." Pandora said. "It's like a piece of
magic brought to life "
"I hope you're going to stay for lunch I've started preparing it."
"Fantastic Mum but we need to get back straight after."
On a family farm, things were done properly, as they used to be. The
main meal of the day was taken at what was now called lunchtime. It
was a substantial affair giving a good break from the mid-day Sun and
providing energy for the afternoon work.
"You'll take a drop of cider, lad?" Asked Dan as he opened a large
screw capped bottle.
"Err "
Stewart had heard tales of country cider.
"It's OK Stewart, this is from Dad's orchard, it's made for drinking, not
getting drunk no stronger than a pale ale."
"In that case, I'd love one."
After the meal which was by far the best one Stewart had eaten in
years. He heaved himself to his feet and patted his stomach.
"Sorry I should have warned you." Smiled Pandora.
"No that was fantastic "

56

The two of them walked back down to the quarry and secured the box
inside the safe and fitted a padlock on the iron door. They both took keys
and Pandora gave Stewart a copy of the combination.
"Sleep well little box, don't get up to any mischief in there "
Pandora's words were light hearted, but were said with real conviction real hope. She desperately hoped that she had not brought danger
to her parent's farm.
As they walked back to farm house in the early afternoon sun, through
a sweet scented meadow ripe for being cut for hay. Stewart was starting
to see the appeal of a pastoral lifestyle. The peace was all enveloping.
"Now don't you leave it so long next time my girl." Susan kissed her
daughter and Dan squeezed her in his safe arms once again. As Stewart
got behind the wheel of his car, Dan slipped him a couple of bottles. This
is a drop of scrumpy lad Don't drink it 'till you've done with driving
for the day, mind you."
He tapped the side of his nose and winked.
As they joined the road Pandora smiled with satisfaction.
"Dad must have taken a shine to you He never gives his scrumpy
away."
They drove back to Pandora's flat in London and were pleased to find
there was no sign of a break in.
The first thing Pandora did was call her sister:
"Are you OK?"
"Yes, I feel fine now; I've got a bed at Fiona's for tonight and thought
I'd go back home tomorrow."
"Well we're here now and there's been no break in yet so I think by tomorrow it will be safe."
"That's a relief How were the parents?"
"Lovely as ever they seemed to like Stewart."
"Well why wouldn't they?"
"I know I know " She turned to look at Stewart and found him
smiling at her.
"I'll see you soon, Lucy, keep safe."
Stewart caught Pandora's eyes and held them in a long gaze. He felt
the connection between them growing stronger by the day; by the
minute.
"Do you want to come back to Cambridge?" He asked.
"Yes I think so; I wouldn't feel too safe here on my own tonight. Can
you drop me off at the Viscount?"
Stewart nodded that he could.

57

"You know," he said "Despite everything, today has been one of the
best days I've had in a long time."
Pandora just smiled; she knew exactly what he meant.
***
The Collector was keen for an update. He sent a message to Benson
asking for details of the progress.
A reply was sent within an hour:
A team has been set up. Headed by a top operative.
The people who are in possession of the item have already been identified and
located. A laboratory has been searched with no result. We suspect that the item
will be moved between locations. Our surveillance continues. It may take some
time to locate the Item. But the recovery should be a simple matter when we do.
The collector was pleased with the progress so far but wanted to hurry
things along. He sent another message:
Good work so far. Think outside the square and get me a quick result. If you
deliver within a month I will double your fee. That will be, as I am sure you
know 20 million dollars. Move things along if you want it.
Almost as soon as he had sent the message he realized that it was a
mistake to pressure Benson. The man was capable enough but he was
driven by greed and prone to acting first and thinking second. It was too
late however; the message was already in Benson's in-box.
The collector closed down his computer and decided to take his dog
out for a walk. Exercise for them both, but also to clear his thoughts.
"Jessy come on girl." She raced to him at the sound of his voice.
He found Perdita and said that he would be an hour or so. He tucked a
shot gun under his arm just in case he saw some rabbits which were
again becoming a pest to local farmers.
He headed up hill along a well-worn path that had been made by the
sheep that grazed the hills. Jessy ran on ahead excited to be in the crisp
open air. The collector's thoughts strayed from Benson, a man he had
never warmed to, and focused on why he was so captivated by building
up his collection of curios. He could find no answer, fundamentally it
was pointless, he knew that, but the urge was still there like an addiction
for which there was no cure.

58

Chapter

Benson got his message and saw the offer of twenty million dollars. He
pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. His hands were trembling and his heart pounded at the thought of the money.
"My God twenty million "
His thoughts raced: That sort of money would set him up for life. He
could do what he had wanted and head for Florida or maybe a Mexican
resort town on the coast. Down there with twenty million, plus what he
had already put aside, he could live like a king for the rest of his life.
He wondered how he could speed up the process of acquiring the box.
He knew from experience that just telling people to speed up was pointless, a financial incentive would help obviously, but he needed an idea
that would bring quick results. It did not take long for his devious mind
to hit on one.
He dialled the number he had for Juliette. In London it was nearly 2:00
am Juliette had been in deep sleep and it took her a while to answer the
insistent ringing.
"Who is this ? Do you know what the time is?" her voice was still
slurred by the sleep she had been unwillingly dragged from. In his excited state, Benson had forgotten about the time difference, it was still
not yet 9:00 pm in New York he had stayed late in his office to check his
messages.
"Never mind about that, Juliette. I have been instructed to up your fee
if you can hurry up the process."
Trying to focus her mind, Juliette took a sip of water from her bedside
glass and switched on the light which made her eyes blink.
"Ah, Charles Benson, I should have guessed and a good morning to
you too What do you mean hurry up, how can I do that, we are working through a process. Observation until we know the location and then
the collection It will take as long as it takes!"
"We need to put pressure on the two who have the box in their temporary care."

59

Juliette sat up in bed, her blond hair falling in an unruly tangle across
her face. She swept it from in front of her eyes.
"Be more specific, will you Charles, I'm not a mind reader certainly
not at this ungodly hour."
"We should kidnap one of them; probably the woman would be the
easiest then a simple exchange for the box. The whole thing would be
under our control we wouldn't have to wait for a chance observation
things would move along "
"I'm not sure about kidnapping, that has lifted the whole operation into a different sphere How much is the fee proposed to be increased
to?"
"I'm authorized to up your payment to a hundred thousand dollars."
"Good night Charles." She hung up the phone.
Juliette decided that she would have enough time to make herself a
warm drink before Benson rang back. She made her way to the kitchen
and put a sachet of hot chocolate in a mug, turned on her kettle and lit a
cigarette. She was just exhaling a plume of smoke towards the ceiling
when the phone rang again. Juliette took her time answering the call.
"I will need at least two hundred for a kidnapping you know the going rate. Please don't insult me or waste my time Charles or I'll walk
away from the whole deal."
"Juliette, don't be hasty I had no intention of insulting you I apologize for the misunderstanding."
He paused for a moment. Two hundred he thought this is easier
than I expected.
"So if I increase the offer to two hundred, you will undertake the
commission?"
Juliette detected from the barely concealed eagerness in his voice that
Benson was ripe to be plucked.
"Two hundred in advance, there will be up front expenses for me in an
operation of this sort, and a further fifty on successful completion. And
Charles I'm talking of pounds not dollars."
This shook Benson he was not expecting such a demand. But on reflection it was a paltry sum compared to his twenty million.
"Two hundred thousand pounds plus another fifty thousand when
you deliver the box You drive a hard bargain Juliette Very well I can
live with that."
"Charles, as always it is a pleasure doing business with you. I think
you can expect a result in a day or two."

60

Juliette spent the next hour jotting down on a note pad her plan of action. A relatively simple operation for her. She then returned to bed and
slept soundly until morning as if the phone call had never happened.
Juliette had left Walter and Mickey in Cambridge and was back in
London when she had taken the call from Benson. Once the two targets
had been found there was no need for her to be involved in the surveillance. Her skills would come into play when the box had been found.
Now things had changed, she needed to muster and talk to her troops
both of them.
She made an early call to Walter.
"It looks as if we will need to push things along Walter, will you collect Mickey and meet me at the train station this morning I'm due in at
eleven fifteen I need to discuss things the operation is moving up a
gear."
"If things are going to get complicated I know it's not my place
boss, but do you really think Mickey is up to it I'm pretty sure he let
the woman clock his face on the first day of surveillance I think he
lives in a fantasy world half the time."
"I understand your fears, Walter; I wouldn't have picked him in the
first place if I thought the job would get complicated as you put it. I was
just doing him a favour you know the story about me knocking him
about "
"Yes boss, I know but he's a liability in my opinion."
"I am only going to use him as a lookout, you and I will be the main
players I'll explain more later at the station."
"OK see you at eleven fifteen."
"Oh, and Walter at our meeting, the matter of money will come up
The sum I mention is what I will be paying Mickey, if he agrees to take
part that is. Your share will reflect the part you will play and will be
more generous. I don't want Mickey thinking he's not getting as much as
you."
"Understood."
Walter and Mickey were staying at separate boarding houses in Cambridge. Walter made a call to the young lad and told him about the
meeting.
"You can find your way there OK."
"Leave it out Walter, I know where the 'kin railway station is."
"OK I'll see you just before eleven."

61

Juliette's train was on time and the three of them found a corner where
they would not be overheard and importantly in a security camera blind
spot.
"All right gentlemen this is the deal. They want us to kidnap the woman and bargain her return in exchange for the box."
"That could get nasty, what if they won't play the game I'm not into
all that cutting off fingers and stuff and turning the screws."
"I know Walter, I'm certain it won't come to that. From what we've
seen so far it looks as if Dr Summers and Dr Moss are quite close. I
think he will give in to our demands straight away remember these are
people who live in their ivory towers, they have no experience of the
tough side of life. My bet is Dr Moss will fall like a house of cards."
"And if he doesn't?"
"We can always just walk away from the deal, all we will have invested is our time, but I guarantee it won't go wrong."
"I'm in." Said Mickey "Is it worth any more now that the stakes have
been lifted?"
"That's a good question, Mickey. In fact, if everything goes well you
will be earning twenty thousand pounds for a few days easy work."
"Cool Shit I'm definitely in if that's the deal."
Juliette looked at Walter.
He shrugged his shoulders as if he couldn't be bothered arguing any
more.
"OK, may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb."
"That's good; I'll start organizing what we need."
"When are we going to lift the woman?"
"I should be ready to move on her by tomorrow, for today I'd like you
two to take turns on watching Dr Summers, we need to know where we
can find her, can you organize that amongst yourselves?"
"No problem, boss."
Walter took the first watch; Pandora was still at the Viscount where
she had been since the red Healey had dropped her off the day before.
He parked his Focus across the street under some low hanging trees
which shaded his position well but gave him a view of the Hotel entrance and the window to Pandora's room.
Pandora made a call to Stewart from her hotel room.
"I feel at a bit of a loose end now that the box is stored away, not sure
what to do with myself could we have lunch together?"
"Yes, that sounds like a good idea. I'll walk round to the Viscount at
about one thirty does the Viscount do lunch?"

62

"Yes I'll organize a table "

***
Mickey was back in his boarding house. The idea of twenty grand to
spend was spinning in his head. But there was also an itch somewhere
there in his under developed brain that was trying to tell him something.
It was not telling him that he was bored with nothing to do he already
knew that. It was the seed of an idea not quite germinated yet.
He pulled his suitcase, more of a rucksack actually, from under his bed
and studied the grubby dark blue canvas for a few moments and then
unzipped one of the pockets. He removed something. Something quite
heavy and wrapped in a piece of an old towel. He laid it on his bed and
slowly removed the wrapping. It was the Glock. Mickey smiled at the
sight of the gun. He picked it up and held it sideways like he had seen in
the American TV shows he watched. It made him feel like a big man
powerful dangerous. With this he could do anything. No poncy
French bitch would knock him about if he had this in his hand.
Mickey had found the gun in the flat of a small time drug dealer. He
had broken in looking for money, maybe a little coke if there was any
Mickey didn't see himself as a drug dealer, didn't like the scene really.
Armed robbery would be his thing except But now he had the gun.
There was no more ammunition in the flat, just the full clip already
loaded. That would do for the moment. He gave a sly smile as his itch
crystallized into a full grown thought.
Instead of settling for twenty K he could take the box himself. If a
lookout was worth twenty then he could sell the box for a whole lot
more a hundred a hundred and fifty He hadn't thought who he
would sell the box to though; as usual his plan was a work in progress.
Walter spotted Stewart over the top of his newspaper as he entered the
Viscount. After a few moments he folded his paper and left the car. He
put on a fluorescent orange safety jacket and picked up a clip board and
pen. He knew that no one would give him a second look dressed like this
and walked up to the entrance. He peered inside pretending to make a
note of the state of repair of the building. He could see the dining room
and noticed Pandora and her guy sitting down to lunch.
"Good." he thought. "That will give me time for a spot of lunch too."
He returned to his car, took off the safety jacket and drove about five
minutes to a pub where he had a ploughmans lunch and a half of bitter.
He would have preferred the full pint two even, but not when he was
working. It was pleasant in the pub, not too busy, just enough customers
for him to blend into the background. He lingered a little longer than he

63

had intended but by the time he got back to his observation point, the
targets were still at lunch.
By mid-afternoon, nothing had changed. He called Mickey who was
slow to answer.
"Yeah?"
"It's Walter, I think it's time for your shift bring the Fiat to the Viscount the two pigeons are both inside. When I see you I'll move on and
you can grab my parking spot."
"OK, understood."
Mickey was pleased to have something to do while he mulled over his
plans. He took Walter's parking spot and watched the entrance. His radio was playing some gangster rap which he was well into. Not too loud,
he didn't want to attract attention, but he needed something to keep him
awake.
After about half an hour he saw the targets leaving the Hotel. They
were arm in arm; the girl had her arm tucked around his.
"Mm, not a bad looker either." He thought studying Pandora's shapely
form as she walked along. Mickey's own love life was of the five minutes
down a dark alley sort. He knew some school girls who would do anything for a twenty. But he was sure things would change when he became the big man."
He followed at respectable distance. Keeping them in sight but also
keeping himself out of view. Just like he had done the last time he followed the woman.
"Piece of piss this surveillance; Walter makes such a fuss about it, what
a tosser." He thought.
"Stewart " Pandora's voice had a touch of alarm in it though she felt
safer with Stewart by her side. "I think Mr Acne, the guy who followed
me the other day is behind us again."
They stopped by a shop window and Stewart positioned himself so
that he see who was behind them. He saw Mickey, also stopped, apparently tying a shoe lace except his canvas shoes were equipped with
Velcro straps.
"Let's split up for a moment and see who he's following."
Pandora was uneasy at the suggestion but tried not to let it show.
"OK but don't go too far away."
Stewart slipped away and crossed to the other side of the road. He
then headed back the way they had come. He had a clear view of Mr
Acne now and watched as he appeared confused, not sure who to follow. In the end he continued tracking Pandora.

64

Stewart doubled back and broke into a run.

"Hey you I want a word "
Mickey took to his heels and ducked down an alley then round a
corner, over a wall and through the back entrance of a shop. After checking that the coast was clear, he left the shop through the normal entrance
and sauntered back to the Fiat. He was pleased to have given them the
slip, but annoyed at being spotted. He wouldn't mention this he also
knew the woman would have to be back at the Viscount before long.
"Did he get away?"
"Yes that little bugger's light on his toes he just vanished. I hope I
run into him again sometime I'll wring his scrawny neck."
Pandora couldn't help smiling at the thought of Stewart wringing
someone's neck. She knew it would never happen.
"Well at least that confirms that I am in someone's sights doesn't it."
"I guess so." Stewart paused and then said: "Pandora do you want to
call the police."
"To be honest, I'm as jumpy about the police as I am about the one's
following me. I can't help feeling that what we are doing concealing
the box which I have no legal right to and which may be very dangerous is not exactly legal."
"OK but one thing is certain, you're not staying at the Hotel tonight
alone. My offer of the fold up bed is no longer an offer, it's an order."
"An offer I can't refuse in other words OK."
She took his arm again.
"Let's walk to the college and get my car, we can drive to the Viscount,
and you can pick up your stuff and book out."
"What would I do without you Stewart?"
Mickey was starting to get edgy. There was still no sight of the woman, if he had to admit to stuffing up there would be hell to pay. But
Mickey was in luck. The familiar red sports car pulled up in front of the
Hotel and the pigeons got out and went in. Just like homing pigeons
Mickey thought. He was still smiling at his own joke when they came
out of the Hotel carrying the woman's luggage.
"Shit I must have spooked them." he said out loud.
He started the Fiat, drove a little way down the street and turned so
that he was behind them. Mickey had an idea where they were going
to the guy's place. He kept his distance and soon his suspicions were
confirmed.
Mickey parked in a secluded spot and started watching.

65

When he handed over again for Walter to do the evening shift the
homing pigeons were still there.

66

Chapter

10

It was early, just after six on a grey morning when the unmarked police
car drew up outside Stewart's flat in Cambridge. Two officers, a uniformed police woman who's red hair was threatening to burst from under her hat, and her sergeant in plain clothes walked up to the entrance.
The police woman knocked insistently on the door.
Pandora was woken from her sleep by the banging. She slipped from
under the covers of the fold up bed which had proved to be surprising
comfortable, and pulled on a sweatshirt over her pyjamas. As she made
her way to the door, Stewart emerged from his room with a crumpled
dressing gown hastily tied around his waist.
"I'll get it." He said.
The police woman spoke; she betrayed her origins with a strong Irish
lilt to her voice:
"Are you Doctor Moss?" She asked.
"Yes, what's this about?"
Ignoring his question she continued:
"Is there a Doctor Summers here Sir?"
Stewart was pulled from his sleepiness by a sudden feeling of alarm.
"Yes she's just in here, look what do you want?"
"May we come in for a moment sir; we have a few questions for Doctor
Summers."
Stewart held open the door and the two officers entered. The sergeant
showed Stewart his identity card and said:
"I'm Sergeant Bowen, this is constable Reilly I wonder if we could
have a few words in private with Doctor Summers."
"What's this all about?"
"It's all right, Stewart " Pandora was standing there behind him.
"Would you like to come in here?"
She led the two officers into the lounge where her fold up bed was still
taking up most of the floor space. She hastily pushed it to one side and
offered her visitors a seat.

67

Sergeant Bowen took over the questioning. He was dressed in a tweed

jacket that looked too heavy for the time of year and had a greying goatee beard which gave him a slightly foreboding appearance.
"Doctor Summers, It has come to our notice that you may be in possession of some illegal treasure trove that was brought into the Country
without authority "
Pandora's shoulders dropped, she had been half expecting this but it
was still a shock. There would be no point in lying about it now. She
simply nodded and cast her gaze to the floor. In a way it was a relief to
be rid of the responsibility.
The sergeant continued:
"I think it would be better if you would come to the station where we
can clarify our facts and you can make a full statement. It will depend on
what you say as to what charges are likely to be pressed. But make no
mistake miss; we see this as a serious matter."
Pandora was resigned to her fate.
"OK, you want me to come now?"
"We will wait for you to get dressed, the sooner we get this sorted the
better for everyone."
The police officers waited in the hallway.
Stewart had overheard most of the brief conversation and was worried
about what would happen to Pandora.
"Are you arresting Pandora?"
"Not at this stage, sir but that may be inevitable, depending on what
we discover from her statement."
"How did you find out about this ?"
"Information was passed to us from a member of the public sir, I'm
sure you realize that we are unable to disclose names."
The sergeant looked straight into Stewart's eyes.
"Doctor Moss, I feel I should warn you that your own conduct in this
matter is not without concern for us. At this stage we need to get a clearer picture of the situation, but I would like you to consider your own position very carefully."
"I see can I come with you when you take Pandora."
"No sir that would be unwise. I suggest you wait here and if Doctor
Summers is not able to satisfy us with her account, you will be informed
in due course."
"So you may not hold her for long?"
"That is indeed a possibility sir. But I can make no promises."
Stewart felt helpless. He went to his room and got dressed.

68

He returned just in time to hug Pandora as she was led from the flat.
"Don't worry." He said "This will all work out OK in the end Pandora I I " The words would not come. He knew what he wanted
to say; to tell Pandora how he felt about about her. Pandora already
knew what his feelings were; how could she not when her own were the
same.
"I know me too."
She held his fingers for a brief moment and kissed his cheek before being led away. Stewart watched as she was escorted into the back seat of a
white Astra. The sergeant sat next to Pandora while the police woman
drove away unhurriedly. As Stewart watched the car disappear into the
early morning stillness he determined that the next time he spoke to Pandora he would cast off his foolish timidity and speak to her of their future; of how he felt; of love.
Pandora's mind was blank; it was as if her brain had decided to stop
thinking about what was happening. All this was starting to become too
overwhelming. She turned to look back at Stewart and saw him mouth
the words that would not come before "I Love you." His concerned
face disappeared from her view as the car moved down the street. She
thought that this must be as bad for him as it was for her worse even.
Why had they not expressed their feeling for each other like normal
people?
She watched the woman in front who drove the car skilfully, briskly
but without rushing. She could see that she would be quite attractive if
not for a rather ugly scar which ran down the side of her left jaw onto
her neck. It looked like she guessed boiling water had been splashed
on her, possibly as a child. Pandora felt sympathy for the Irish red head
despite her own predicament.
"Doctor Summers, before we go to the Station, there is something I
would like you to see. Reilly will be driving us to premises where there
is an artefact which sounds to be much like the one that you have been
handling. Before we get the forensics team involved I would like you to
take a look at it in situ."
Pandora was astonished by this there couldn't possibly be another
box, not in Cambridge, surely. This information jolted her brain into action again. She decided that, whatever the police had found would have
to be something far more mundane. If she had not been feeling so preoccupied with her own sadness, she would have been intrigued.
The streets were still mostly deserted and the police car had soon
crossed the town and drove down a winding back street finally coming

69

to rest by an old brick walled warehouse. A relatively modern roller

door had replaced what would have originally been some wide wooden
doors. There was a small wicket door let into the main roller door which
allowed personal access.
The police woman took Pandora's arm and led her to the opening
which her sergeant had unlocked.
"It's just though here." She said.
They entered a dark brick room with a stained concrete floor. There
was a damp smell and the room appeared empty. Up to the left was a
row of narrow windows, decorated by a lace network of old spider webs.
A faint glimmer of daylight managed to penetrate the glass which was
almost opaque from years of unwashed grime. The early morning light
caught the flecks of dust as they danced in the air of the deserted room.
At the far wall opposite, Pandora saw a heavy door which was partly
open and revealed another smaller room inside.
The officers conducted Pandora across to the doorway.
"What I want you to see is in here."
Sergeant Bowen put his arm around the door and without entering the
room himself, flicked a switch. The low glimmer of a single light bulb
hanging by a wire from the ceiling gave a little illumination.
"After you Doctor." He said, standing aside with his arms held open in
a guiding gesture for Pandora to enter first.
Pandora looked for any sign of an artefact; there was nothing of that
sort at all. As she turned towards the sergeant to ask what she should be
looking at, the door was closed behind her and she heard the alarming
sound of two heavy bolts being drawn. She rushed at the door, but it
was too late she was imprisoned.
"Let me out "
Pandora banged on the door.
"Let me out what is the meaning of this?"
There was no reply.
Sergeant Bowen removed his false beard, changed his jacket, got into
the Astra and drove slowly away.
Constable Reilly, removed her uniform, her red wig, and slipped the
green contact lenses from her eyes. The false scar was carefully peeled
away from her neck. The items were place in a back pack. Juliette left the
warehouse and locked the access door. There was a Honda CBX 600
parked just a few paces away. Juliette removed a helmet with a dark visor from the storage box and put the back pack there in its place. She
mounted the machine and rode casually away.

70

After a while Pandora stopped banging on the door. It was obvious

that there was no one there. It was equally obvious to her that the two
people were not from the police. It had clearly something to do with why
she had been followed. These people must want the box, but what value
would it have. To Pandora the value was in discovering what secrets the
box held, she had never thought of it as having a monetary value it was
beyond that, truly priceless.
Her eyes slowly became accustomed to the gloom and Pandora looked
around the room. It was not too bad. Her captors had gone to some
trouble to make things bearable.
There was a camp bed with a sleeping bag and a new pillow both in
their unopened packaging. In the corner by the door was a sink. She
tried the taps cold water only but there was good pressure and it
looked clean, normal town supply. There was a container of liquid soap
and a clean towel. Slightly less appealing was the bucket with a toilet roll
sitting on the top, at least it had a lid which sealed down tight.
On the other side of the room was a table, actually a sheet of quarter
inch plywood resting on two trestles. Placed neatly on the table was
some bottled water, a pile of sandwiches individually wrapped in cling
film, a bag of apples and an assortment of magazines. The walls were of
the same brick as the main building. There were no windows but a draft
was blowing under the door which caused the light bulb to swing
slightly causing a disturbing movement in the shadows it cast.
Pandora looked for anything that would help her escape. There were
no tools, not a knife, not a spoon. There was nothing metal she could use
to dig out the mortar from between the bricks. She scanned the floor in
vain for an old nail or something that might have been dropped. It
looked as if the room had been swept recently, probably in her honour.
In her flustered state when she had been picked up, she had brought
nothing with her, nothing in her pockets, not even a few coins.
She felt completely helpless. She went over to the sink and splashed
some cold water on her face. The hot tap was unconnected
She looked under the sink. There was no pipework connected to the
hot tap, maybe she could get it free. It was fitted into the porcelain basin
and held with a large brass nut tightened against the threaded section of
the tap's inlet. Pandora twisted the tap and felt it move. Because it had
never been connected to the water supply, the nut had never been fully
tightened. Pandora continued twisting back and forth and little by little
the nut loosened until she could remove it completely. The tap simply
pulled up and was free of the sink.

71

It was not a perfect tool but Pandora found that by scraping against
the mortar between the bricks she could break the cement away. She had
to decide where to start her excavation. She knew the way she had come
in led to another room which was probably also locked. She tried to remember the lay-out of the building. Pandora had not been taking much
notice but it seemed to her that the wall behind the table was an exterior
wall. She decided to start work on that one. Scraping and chipping she
made slow but steady progress.
Stewart's phone rang.
"Hello "
An ice cold voice, a woman's voice with an Irish accent, spoke slowly
and clearly:
"Doctor Moss, Pandora is being kept prisoner. She will be released
back to you when, and only when you bring the box to a place of exchange. Make no attempt to contact the police or you will never see Pandora again. I will call again."
"Hello hello who is this ?" The line had already gone dead.
Stewart was in panic. Pandora being taken by the police was bad
enough but this had completely floored him. He felt in desperate need of
someone to talk to but there was no one. He couldn't frighten Lucy or
her parents Deakin! He was a straw that was worth clutching. He
didn't have his number Pandora had it on her phone. He found
Pandora's phone among her things and searched for Deakin. There was
no entry under that name, he tried Professor. There were a few but none
of them Deakin. Stewart realized that he didn't know Deakin's first
name. He scrolled down the entire list of entries. There were two names
which made him pause "Hephaestus" and "Epimethius" he noticed that
his own number was ascribed to the second name, now was not the time
wonder about that. Stewart was no classics scholar but the first name, if
he was correct, belonged to the god whom Zeus had ordered to create
Pandora, the first woman on Earth in Greek mythology.
Knowing Pandora's wicked sense of irony he felt sure that this would
be the number he wanted.
He tried it:
"Hello Professor Deakin speaking."
"It's Stewart Moss, we have a problem "
"Not lost the box I hope." Deakin said in jest.
"Pandora has been kidnapped; they want the box in exchange." There
was silence on the other end of the line.
'Hello are you there?"

72

"Yes, yes I was just thinking Who could have known about it? I told
you both to be absolutely discrete and not to let the existence of the box
get beyond our small group."
"I think the leak must have come from Adrian Bancroft."
"Damn it to hell Moss, this is just too bad. Your performance has been
below standard and as for Pandora she fully deserves to have reaped the
predicament she finds herself in."
Stewart was convinced that it was a waste of time talking to this man;
he was in need of some wise counsel not pointless abuse.
"Moss, on no account let these villains have the box in fact bring it to
me immediately. It appears that I am the only one capable of taking care
of it. And what's more Hello "
Stewart hung up Pandora's phone. He felt angry now which was an
improvement on the self-pity he had been mired in all morning.
As he sat fuming at Deakin's total lack of empathy Stewart's s own
phone rang.
"Look Deakin I have no intention of leaving Pandora in captivity she
is far more valuable than any artefact "
"I am truly pleased to hear that." Said the ice-cold voice.
"I am a civilized person Doctor Moss I do not wish to up the stakes by
harming Pandora. But I will do what I have to in order to fulfil my contract. Are you willing to be cooperative?"
"Yes, all I want is Pandora back safe the box has no value to me
without her."
"Do you have the box at hand?"
"It will take me half a day to recover it. It is being kept somewhere
safe."
"Get the box and take it to the Corn Exchange on Wheeler Street. Come
alone and be outside the main entry at Five this evening. You will be
met."
"Is Pandora safe?"
"She is perfectly safe and if you follow my instruction and do not involve the police, she will be back with you in time for the late news.
Don't disappoint me Doctor Moss I do so hate it when I have to resort to
unpleasantness."

73

Chapter

11

Stewart made a hasty call to Pandora's parents. He made the conversation sound casual and said he would be coming to collect the box so that
he could run some more tests and that Pandora was busy with other
work and could not come with him. Just a routine thing.
At last he had something constructive to do and drove to the farm
with a determination that at all costs he would save Pandora. The weather had deteriorated further and he had to contend with a constant light
rain on the way to Dorset. He was hardly in a fit state for driving such a
distance, his mind went over and over the events of the morning like a
movie clip set in a loop. These people were good the performance as
cops was completely believable. He wondered what other surprises they
might have waiting to trick him again.
He found himself at the New Forest and couldn't remember how he
got there, the whole journey was just a blur but he pressed on regardless.
When he arrived at the farm he desperately wanted to unburden himself
to Pandora's father but instead put on a brave face and acted as if there
was no problem. If all went according to plan Pandora would be safe by
the evening and her parents would have been worried for no reason. A
trouble shared is a trouble doubled.
There was no difficulty in recovering the box from the safe. It had rested in Varna for thousands of years; its brief stopover in Dorset would
hardly register as an event in its time-line. As he took it in his hands, he
wondered if it somehow had an awareness; if it knew what its purpose
was. If it knew where it was. He could not answer that question but
whatever secrets it held, whatever questions it posed, the box was no
longer an item of value to him but an unwanted burden he would be
glad to be rid of.
Stewart made a short stop at the farmhouse on his way back to his car.
The rain had stopped and there was a watery sun threatening to break
through the thinning cloud cover. Pandora's parents greeted Stewart like
an old friend and gave him coffee which he needed. The cake he could
not face. He promised that he and Pandora would soon be back to visit,

74

he could tell that the couple missed the company of their daughters. He
had only spent half an hour at the farm that morning but it was becoming a place that held a growing attraction for him. The peace and
solitude tugged at his core.
He soon found himself on his way back to Cambridge. His vital cargo
was in a soft leather bag on the passenger's seat. As the Healey made
steady progress back to Cambridge, he noticed with alarm that the temperature gauge was starting to edge out of the normal range. The last
thing he needed was break down. The gauge held his attention as the
miles slipped under the car's wheels. He was on the edge of Southampton when the needle finally nudged into the red sector of the dial.
He pulled into a petrol station to fill up. He popped open the bonnet
and slowly eased the radiator cap off using an old rag. There was a hiss
of steam as the cap was finally released.
"Looks like you some water mate." A fellow customer made the astute
observation. Instead of leaving Stewart to his own devices though, he
brought over a watering can which was left by the pumps for just such
an eventuality.
The radiator took most of what the can held. Stewart looked for signs
of a leak but there was nothing to see. He thanked the man and set off
again. Thankfully the temperature had returned to normal and the gauge
showed no sign of edging up. The car had done quite a few miles over
the last days and Stewart realized that he had not checked the water for
some time. A classic car was not something you could just use like a
modern car it needed constant loving care. Stewart's attention had been
diverted elsewhere since he had encountered Pandora at Paddington. It
was only a few days ago but it was already hard to imagine not having
her around. He had to get her back safe; there was a conversation that he
had to have with her.
It was already pushing towards four when he finally got back to his
flat. He desperately needed a shower and then forced himself to eat a
peanut butter sandwich despite his lack of appetite; it was the first food
he had eaten all day.
Almost immediately he made his way to the Corn Exchange his nerves
felt as tight as a violin strings tuned to concert pitch. He could hear the
blood pounding in his ears as he drove. He parked a short walk from the
entrance and checked the time. He was too early, twenty minutes before
the agreed time, but was too tense to sit and wait in the car. He took the
bag and set off towards the entrance where he was supposed to be met.
There was a tap on his shoulder and a voice next to him said:

75

"Good to see you are keen to conclude our business Doctor Moss."
Stewart turned and recognized Sergeant Bowen from earlier. He knew
now that he was not a sergeant, not a policeman, and his name almost
certainly would not be Bowen, but it was a useful label. If you can attach
a name to a phantom its power will be diminished.
"Is that the box in the leather bag?"
"Yes."
"Follow me; we will be taking the bus."
After a short ride they resumed walking. Bowen took him on a route
which was obviously designed to foil any followers. There was no need
for that as Stewart had kept to his bargain. They arrived at a car park and
Bowen opened the door of a Focus. The car had signs on the doors saying "Davenport Builders" there was a phone number and some reference
to loft conversions. Stewart was hardly interested. They both got in.
"Before we go any further, I just need to know that you do have the
box in your bag."
"You are not taking it until I get Pandora back."
Stewart looked angry, ready to defend his position in any way necessary. Bowen had no intention of causing a confrontation; he just wanted
his part of the operation to run smoothly.
"Just keep calm; I have no intention of breaking our agreement. Doctor
Summers will be returned as soon as we get the box. I just want to be
sure this is not a wild goose chase, just a glimpse, you keep hold of the
bag."
Stewart realized that the request was reasonable under the circumstances and showed Bowen a glimpse of the box which nestled inside the
darkness of the bag. The affect was as it always was, Bowen was awe
struck he stared at the glowing apparition trying to make sense of what
he was seeing.
"OK I guess there's no mistaking that! Let's go and get that girl of
yours."
Stewart thought that Bowen could almost be a decent guy if he had
picked a different trade But he still wanted to break his neck.
Bowen started the car and they drove off, again taking an unnecessarily circuitous route. Fifteen minutes later they arrived at an old brickwalled warehouse. They waited in the car for a few minutes. No words
were exchanged. Stewart imagined that this delay was another precaution to make certain that no one had tracked them. Bowen took a call on
his mobile.

76

There was nothing Stewart could glean from the message, but it appeared to be an all-clear because as soon as Bowen had finished the call
he got out of the car and led Stewart through the doorway into the main
room of the warehouse.
The Irish woman, no longer dressed in police uniform, was standing
by the far wall. She made an impressive figure with her tall stance and
long red hair.
"Have you got the box Doctor Moss?" It was the same ice cold voice
that he had heard on the phone.
Stewart held up the bag.
"I want to see Pandora first; you get nothing unless she's safe."
The woman nodded. This is what she had expected.
"Of course." She nodded to Bowen who withdrew the bolts on the
door.
Pandora, who had spent most of the day scraping mortar but had not
yet freed a single brick, had stopped work when she first heard voices.
She was close to the door listening intently when the bolts were pulled
back.
The door was opened a crack and Bowen's bulk blocked the entry.
"Take a look Dr Moss."
Stewart rushed up to the door.
"Are you all right Pandora ?"
"Stewart Thank God Yes I'm fine what's happening "
The door was pushed shut again and relocked.
The Irishwoman took a step closer.
"The box please, Doctor."
Stewart held out the bag.
"I'll take that "
The voice came from the outer doorway. Silhouetted against the daylight Stewart could not see who it was. As the figure advanced on him,
the first thing Stewart saw was the gun held in a trembling hand, pointing at his chest. Then he recognized him Mr Acne. Stewart had wished
for another meeting with him but did not expect it would be like this.
"You fool, put that gun down before someone gets hurt." Juliette was
as shocked as Stewart. She had not seen this coming and was completely
unprepared for it.
"Things are different now I'm making my move to the big time."
Mickey grinned at Juliette.
"No more orders from a woman."
He waved the gun around erratically.

77

"Be careful " Juliette shouted. "Where the hell did you get that stupid
gun?"
She took several paces towards the gun wielding Mr Big.
"That's close enough "
Juliette could see that he was twitching with excitement, his hands
were shaking and sweat was glistening on his oily skin. His eyes were
blinking wildly like a rabbit caught in headlights.
"Give me the box."
Stewart stood motionless; this was obviously not part of what had
been a carefully executed operation. He did not know what to do. He
looked across at the woman who was clearly in charge or had been.
His eyes asked her for a lead but all he saw on her face was shock.
"Give me the box!" Mickey shouted, his voice becoming shrill almost
falsetto.
Again Stewart hesitated.
"Give me the fuckin' box " He screamed at Stewart.
His eyes were wide open now, the whites clearly visible and he was
close to breaking point. He made a pointing gesture with the Glock at
Stewart's chest.
A loud bang echoed around the empty room reverberating across the
dusty bricks like the snap of a suddenly released tension. Everyone in
the room jumped out of their skin at the sound.
The gun had fired and Stewart, for an instant had an astonished look
on his face, then he fell, it seemed in slow motion, first to his knees and
then forward, his chest falling over the leather bag as his head smacked
against the filthy concrete. There was the sickening sight of a pool of
blood spreading out across the floor.
Mickey dropped the gun and made a dash for the bag, he was in total
panic. The gun had gone off by accident he hadn't meant to do it.
"Oh shit, shit, shit " He yelled as he ran. He was tipping over the
edge of hysterics.
Juliette had got to Stewart first and as Mickey dropped to his knees
and grovelled to pick up his prize, she kicked him in the side of the head.
Mickey fell unconscious next to his own motionless victim.
Juliette, pulled the blood soaked bag from under Stewart's chest and
took a pace back, horrified. Things had gone terribly wrong. She knew
that she had to carry on regardless and salvage the mission. Juliette resumed her carefully thought out plan. Once again she carefully removed
her disguise.

78

"Just stick to the plan." She said to Walter "This was not our doing,
nothing has changed for us."
As she spoke the words, she wished she could believe them herself.
Juliette walked out of the warehouse stopping only to pick up the gun
with her gloved hand.
Walter nodded but could find nothing to say, he was ghostly white.
He looked down at the two men, at the blood and felt sick. A few moments later he heard the sound of the motor bike accelerating away. He
felt suddenly completely alone.
The plan had been to disappear and leave Doctor Moss to free Pandora. That was no longer possible. Walter was not an honest man but
neither was he heartless or without his own set of ethics. He was unwilling to walk away and leave Doctor Summers to her own fate locked in a
cell with no hope of rescue. Nor was he willing to leave without changing his disguise, but once he had done that he could no longer risk letting Pandora see him.
He hesitated for a moment and then realized what he had to do. He
followed the plan and removed his disguise He unpeeled the self-adhesive vinyl signs from the car's doors and got back in the Focus. He drove
for about two miles and pulled up by the side of the river. He dialled 999
asked, with an assumed Scots accent for an ambulance. He gave the address, got them to repeat it back to him and ended the call without giving any other details. He threw the phone into the river. He then drove
to where his own car had been left inside a deserted lock-up. He parked
the Focus some distance from the building, emptied a can of petrol inside the passenger area and left a short-fuse incendiary device on the
seat. As he drove away he watched in his mirror as the car burst into
flames. An hour and a half later he was just another anonymous punter
back in London.
By then Juliette was also back in London. She had stopped briefly in
the outskirts of Cambridge to clean the gun of any forensic evidence and
had thrown that too into the river.
The box, which fascinated her as much as all those who had seen it,
was placed in her wall safe. The safe was carefully concealed in a deep
recess behind the wide screen television. It required that the television be
unbolted from the wall to access the safe but also meant that a casual intruder would not easily find it.
Juliette bundled everything she had used or was connected with operation, the disguises, clothes, the blood stained bag, make-up, everything,
into a plastic rubbish bag which was destined for incineration. The

79

motorcycle which had been stolen months earlier for an aborted job had
been cleaned of evidence and abandoned in a supermarket car park with
the key left in the ignition. She knew that it would be taken for a joy ride
by some unsuspecting accomplice and the connection with her would be
completely broken.
The Astra and the Fiat which were also stolen had been taken that
morning to waste ground and burned. That was the last useful job
Mickey had done before his delusions took over. There remained no
physical evidence, apart from the box, to connect Juliette to any of the
events of the past few days.
The last thing she did before sliding into a hot bath with a large glass
of cognac was to send a message to Benson confirming that the box was
ready for collection. It had been a successful day in terms of the outcome,
but it had been a day Juliette wished she could erase from her memory.

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Chapter

12

Pandora was in a state of intense anxiety. Still confined in her prison, she
could hear what was happening in the outside room but could not make
sense of any of it. Some sort of confrontation and then the bang. She
jumped nervously at the frightening sound. Had that really been a gun
shot? She searched for another, a less horrifying explanation for the
sound.
Eventually Pandora heard her captors leave and then everything fell
silent. But there was no release, where was Stewart? She frantically
called for him but there was no answer. She rattled the door in desperation but nothing happened. Stewart did not come and set her free. Fearing the worst she slumped by the door and sat silently trying to come to
terms with what she thought had happened.
It was the wail of the ambulance which broke her reverie. The sound
came closer and closer until she could hear the ambulance entering the
lane where she was held. It was a sound which meant rescue, but it also
held the fear in its wail of what she would discover in the outer room.
She could hear muffled voices and banged violently on the door again.
"Let me out I'm in here."
This time the door was opened by a woman in paramedic uniform.
Pandora pushed past her and rushed into the main room. She stopped
suddenly at the chilling sight that met her eyes. She was hardly able to
bring herself to look at the body which lay stretched, face down on the
hard cold concrete. She knew it was Stewart. She wanted to hold him, to
comfort him, but she could not move. Her eyes met those of the other
ambulance officer. He was kneeling over the body, his face had a grim
expression, there was nothing he could do. He shook his head slowly
from side to side telling Pandora that there was no hope.
By the time the police arrived in a blaze of flashing blue lights, Pandora was in the ambulance, wrapped in a thermal blanket. Her thought
process had shut down, she was just numb. No tears, no screaming grief
Pandora just sat staring, her unfocussed eyes looking straight ahead but
seeing nothing.

81

A uniformed policeman poked his head round the door. He looked at

the woman ambulance officer who had her arm around Pandora.
"Is she up to answering any question yet?" He asked.
"No, she's in shock; I doubt she'll even hear what you say."
"Has she been hurt in any way?"
"There are some superficial cuts to her hands, looks like she was trying
to dig her way through the wall Doesn't look as if she was harmed
physically by her captors. We will be taking her in for a check over."
"OK, any ID. on her?"
"That wasn't my priority, but I don't think so. I asked her name and
she said Stewart,"
"She's going to Addenbrook A and E?"
"Yes."
"OK Ms Stewart then "He made a note of the name.
"You may as well get on your way looks like we'll be here all day."
When Inspector Wilkinson arrived at the warehouse, the forensics
team had already made their preliminary observations. He surveyed the
scene, just one body on the concrete floor. The light which filtered its
way through the narrow windows and suspended dust revealed the
body of a young man, late twenties, early thirties Too young to be
dead.
"Hello James. I can't help feeling we'll have to stop meeting like this."
It was the forensics investigator who spoke, dressed in the normal full
body white suit designed, not to protect him, but to prevent contamination of the site.
The humour that the two colleagues exchanged was something of a
ritual, almost a sacrament to diminish the distress of a murder scene, to
make it normal; bearable. Both of the men had been involved with violent deaths for most of their working lives, but it was something they
never got used to. Each time was a horror, and while they no longer
showed the outward signs of distress, each new corpse etched away at
their belief in the goodness of mankind. The job was ultimately soul destroying, they both knew it, but it was what they did.
James Wilkinson was fifty three, since making Inspector eight years
ago he had matured into the position and was well regarded by his colleagues. He was a little above average height, slim and with a kind smile
or a stern scowl depending on the circumstances.
Bevan Hendricks was of West Indian decent, born in Nottingham, and
was ten years younger than Wilkinson. He was shorter than the Inspector by a hand span though he had a heavier build. He was a naturally

82

cheerful man with a sharp intellect. James considered him to be the best
forensics pathologist he had worked with.
"What have you got for me Bevan?"
"Come on James, it's too soon to have drawn any conclusions."
"You always say that Bevan, and then spend half an hour reeling off a
list of observations Come on, what happened here."
"OK, this is what I think But you'll have to wait for my written report before I will confirm anything. A single shot to the chest, he would
have died within seconds. There's no exit wound so the bullet will have
bounced around his chest and done a lot of damage. It will still be in
there so I can't even guess at the gun well actually it will have to have
been fired from a fairly low velocity weapon so probably a pistol. There's
no other indication of damage to the victim apart from an impact wound
on his forehead as he fell."
"How far away was the shot fired from?"
"I can't tell that at this stage except to say that it was not close, there is
no evidence of powder residue or scorching. Actually if you look over
here "Bevan took the Inspector a few paces towards the door.
"You can see some splashes of liquid."
James could just pick out what he was being shown.
"Yes, and there's a trail which leads to the body."
"Take a sniff." The Inspector got down on his knees and did so.
"It's, piss, urine You might have warned me."
Bevan Laughed.
"Yes I think it's urine but until I check it out I can't confirm that. I think
that whoever shot him, well literally wet himself and then ran to the
body if you look at the side of the victim you can see a somewhat larger pool . Don't get too close, I don't want the site contaminating."
"It's not the first crime scene I've been at Bevan."
"Sorry It's just my habit to warn people."
He pointed to a few dark spots soaked into the floor some distance
from the body.
"There's also some small blood drops not connected to the main pool
from the victim, nor does it look like splatter from the bullet wound. This
blood may well belong to the gunman."
"Ah that's good, let's hope we have his DNA on file."
Inspector Wilkinson always started an investigation with optimism.
"Time of death?' Asked the inspector.

83

"Ah the post mortem interval, wondered when you'd get to that recent, no rigour, the body is still warm, less than three hours, I'd say
closer to an hour ago maybe less."
Bevan stood and turned to face James.
"If I'm right," Bevan adjusted his glasses. "This was not an intentional
shooting but one that provoked panic in the assailant when he realized
what he had done."
"OK Bevan thanks, anything else?"
"Not yet, this is a big area to cover, and there's the room where the kidnapped woman was held to check over as well." Bevan hesitated.
"Of course, I suppose you noted the drag marks in the blood?"
"Err Yes what do you make of them?"
"Well, to my eye it looks like something was pulled from under the
victim's chest after he had fallen A bag of ransom money, do you
think?"
"That means that there could be a blood stained bag somewhere.
Thanks Bevan."
The Inspector raised his voice and spoke to his men.
"I want the immediate area searched with a fine tooth comb we are
looking for a pistol I need that weapon so get to it. Also a blood
stained bag may have been discarded so keep an eye out for that too."
The Inspector needed to speak to the only witness they had. He made
his way to Addenbrook Hospital and eventually found the woman in
question who he discovered was called Summers not Stewart.
"How are you feeling? Ms Summers."
"Terrible but at least I've got my senses back."
Pandora was still pale and had a throbbing headache. Stress always
manifested itself in that way for her. She managed a weak smile for the
policeman.
"I'm Inspector James Wilkinson, he showed her his ID. Can you tell me
what happened from your perspective?"
"The story is a long one but the bits of it that are relevant are "
Pandora tried to think of how she could sum up all that had happened
in a few words. How she could make sense of it. In the end she just kept
it brief and to the point.
"I was kidnapped, to be exchanged for an item I was keeping. I was
kept in the room where the ambulance people found me I was only
there since this morning. Stewart a dear friend, brought at least I
think, the item to the warehouse for my ransom I could not see what
happened but they opened the door for an instant to show Stewart "

84

Pandora's voice trembled as she recalled the last time she had seen Stewart alive. "To show Stewart that I was unharmed "
Then stinging tears bit against her eyes. For the first time since she had
seen Stewart's lifeless body she cried and the bitter tears would not stop.
The next day Pandora's composure had returned and she was taken to
the station for a formal witness interview. She was asked to give a description of her kidnappers and then to give an account of what had
happened in her own words.
"There were two involved in my kidnapping. They pretended to be
police Quite convincing actually. The man was middle aged, he had a
small beard, quite ordinary looking. He said he was Sergeant Bowen, I
expect that was a false name. The woman was Irish, long red hair, taller
than the man, freckles. She had vivid green eyes. He called her Reilly."
"Any distinguishing marks on either of them?"
"No Oh wait the woman had a scar on her neck." Pandora indicated
on her own neck where the scar was.
"What sort of scar from a cut?"
"No it looked like burn or a scold I got the feeling it was an old one,
possibly from her childhood."
"Did they refer to each other by any other names?"
"No, the conversation was kept to a minimum; they didn't really talk
to each other."
"And there were only the two of them involved?"
"In the actual kidnapping yes, but the day before, we that's Stewart
and I, were followed by a young kid, late teens or early twenties, skinny,
short cropped hair, bad acne."
"You are sure he was following you?"
"Well, yes, he had followed me before When Stewart tried to confront him he ran off and disappeared."
"You say he followed you before?"
"When I was on my own, the day before, he was always behind me I
got quite worried. In the end he got on a bus and I wasn't sure if he
really had been following me then he turned up again yesterday."
"Good, this is all helpful information. Now if you will, please tell me
about what it was the kidnappers wanted You mentioned an item."
Pandora told the full story of what had happened from finding the pot
in Varna until finding Stewart dead. In hindsight it was probably a mistake to talk about the box but she hadn't expected to be disbelieved.
The police were disappointed that she had come up with such a fanciful account and assumed the trauma of the murder had caused her to

85

become delusional. Bringing alien artefacts into her account put

everything else she had said into question.
Inspector Wilkinson arranged for a psychologist to examine her. His
report baffled the Inspector, he already knew what it would say but he
was wrong!
It said that Doctor Summers was a highly intelligent woman with no
evidence of delusional thinking and that she was convinced that what
she had told them in her statement was the truth.
The Inspector had his doubts about Doctor Summers statement confirmed however, when Professor Deakin denied any knowledge of the
strange artefact. He implied that Summers had been overworking.
Deakin's, instinct for self-interest, coupled with his natural cowardice
and total lack of loyalty, made him distance himself from the affair as
soon as he sniffed a whiff of controversy.
The inspector had little interest in what the mysterious box was, if indeed there was a box at all. His focus was on bringing the kidnappers,
and especially whoever had killed Doctor Moss, to justice. He passed the
report of the box and his brief investigation into it on to his superiors
where he imagined it would be eventually be lost at the back of a filing
cabinet or disappear into the electronic ether.
What concerned him most was that there was so little to go on. This
had not been an amateur operation in his opinion; there was hardly any
forensic evidence just a blood sample, probably from the killer. The DNA
was not from Doctor Moss but nor did it match any other samples they
had on record. Neither the bag nor the firearm had been recovered. No
one had seen or heard anything other than Doctor Summers. Inspector
Wilkinson was still not convinced, despite the psychologists report, that
she had a complete grasp on reality.
For her part Pandora had not the slightest interest in convincing Inspector Wilkinson that the box was real she no longer cared, all it had
brought her was worry and grief. It had probably cost Pandora her post
at the University. It had cost her more than she could formulate in
words. More than she could yet fully comprehend. But above all it had
cost her Stewart. Stewart was gone before they had found the courage to
express their feelings. It was a desperate waste that Pandora could not
come to terms with. As for Deakin, Pandora no longer wished to have
any contact with him. She now had nothing but contempt for the man.
The police still needed to know where Pandora could be located so she
left a message saying that she would be returning to her flat in London.

86

She could see no reason to stay in Cambridge; there was nothing for her
there any more.
She took the train home. Lucy met her at the station, grey faced and
lacking her usual bubbly personality. They took a taxi home. Once the
door on the outside world was closed they held each other and wept before getting profoundly drunk on red wine.

87

Chapter

13

The Collector received the message from Benson within hours of Benson
having been informed of the success in acquiring the box. He was astonished that it had taken so little time. Perhaps his reservations about rushing Benson had been ill founded. Benson had already started making references about the transfer of his fee to his account in the Caymans. The
Collector had not become wealthy by transferring large sums of money
until his transactions were complete. In this case he would need the box
in his possession before such a large sum of money would change hands.
He messaged Benson with congratulations on the good work, but advised him to be patient in terms of his expectation of a swollen bank account. He reinforced the need to keep his own identity and whereabouts
absolutely secret and ended the message with the words. "Have no fear; I
will always deliver what I promise." Benson well understood that the
words were as much a threat as a promise of reward.
Benson had to arrange for the box to be transported across the world.
With the heightened security at airports, attempting to get anything unusual onto a plane was becoming extremely difficult. But there was pressure for a fast delivery. The information he had about the box indicated
that airport scanners would not be a problem, but a normal customs
search at the destination could blow the whole project. He needed a specialist courier to undertake the job. He knew just the person. He gave
Delancey Parks a call.
***
It was the day of the funeral. A dreary and depressing day. A day Pandora wished would be over. She went up to Cambridge on her own for
the ceremony. She was saddened to see so few people there. Stewart's
parents were both dead, he had no siblings and as a reserved man, few
friends. There were two cousins and Pandora overheard with distaste
that they were already squabbling over Stewart's estate. Stewart had
died intestate, still a young man, he had not even considered his death
and had made no provisions. What assets he had were up for grabs and
the vulchers, both of them, were gathered.

88

After a brief secular ceremony the body was taken for cremation. Pandora kissed the closed coffin as it was wheeled to the hearse, and bid him
a final farewell. She was over the initial shock, but had still not come to
terms with her loss. She could not believe; not contemplate that she
would never see his face again. She would never take him to her parents
again; never wake on a spring morning next to him and feel his arms
around her.
Pandora was in no mood to partake in the refreshments that are habitually provided at times like this, but felt she would like to shake
hands with those she knew. She was relieved, but not surprised, that
Deakin had not made an appearance. Stewart's friends were lost for
words as she shook hands or hugged them.
The two cousins were strangers to Pandora, but she felt obliged to
make herself known to them before disappearing back to London. She
walked over to the women with an outstretched hand. They were of a
similar age to herself, possibly a few years older. One was slightly overweight and wore a dark dress and an inappropriate hat. She carried her
handbag like a weapon. The other was slim with a pinched expression
and spoke through her nose. She was dressed in a business suit and heels
and spoke first:
"You must be Pandora; Stewart wrote about you, it seems he was very
fond of you."
"Yes we were quite close." Pandora said, the acute awareness that she
would never see him again biting at her tear ducts. "Please accept my
condolences at the loss of your cousin." She managed.
"Thank you just how close had you two become?"
"I had known Stewart years ago as students and had met again quite
recently In that short time we got quite close." Pandora dabbed at her
eyes with a tissue.
"Well just because you were close to our cousin, I hope you don't think
that will entitle you to any share of the proceeds of his estate."
The suggestion hit Pandora like a fist. She hadn't even considered the
possibility. She felt insulted by the idea. Instead of attempting to explain
her feelings, Pandora simply tuned on her heel and walked away.
As she made her way to the street in search of a taxi, a man approached her from behind. His pace quickened and he walked beside
her.
"Doctor Summers, can we talk?"

89

Pandora turned and saw a man she did not recognize. Tall, distinguished, well dressed in an elegant suit. He was older than she was by
ten or fifteen years and had the bearing of a military man she thought.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"Perhaps we could talk in my car, it's just here."
He pointed to a dark coloured Jaguar saloon.
Pandora felt slightly alarmed, her recent experiences had left her with
a diminished trust in people.
"It's all right, Doctor Summers, this is not another kidnapping attempt." He smiled at her and she felt that he was probably trustworthy.
More importantly, he had captured her curiosity. He opened the back
door and held it while Pandora got in. He then let himself into the car
and sat in the back next to her. As the door closed the outside street noise
was hushed, there was the pleasant smell of leather, the seats were soft
and comfortable and Pandora relaxed a little.
My name is William Montfort and my department is interested in your
account of the artefact."
"And what department might that be Mr Montfort."
"Please call me William."
"William, not Bill?"
"I'm afraid if you call me Bill, we will not be friends."
Pandora managed a smile, more out of politeness than an expression
of her mood.
"Then you must call me Pandora."
"Thank you, I will to answer your question my department is involved with national security, you will not have heard of its name and it
may be better if it remains that way."
"I see What makes you believe in my story when the police clearly
do not?"
"You are an intelligent woman. I think it unlikely that you will have
made up the story Let's just say, Pandora, that the police have a different focus to us anything out of the ordinary tends to attract our
attention."
"Well the box is certainly out of the ordinary."
"Am I correct in assuming that, apart from the thieves who now have
the box, you are the only one who has handled it accepting of course
that Doctor Moss is sadly no longer with us?"
"There are a few others who have seen it."
"And they would be "

90

"Well there are three students still in Varna who unearthed it with me,
and Professor Deakin has actually examined it "
Pandora thought about her parents but decided not to mention them.
"That's all I think."
"So Professor Deakin has seen it, you know he has denied any knowledge of the box."
"Yes, the man is Let's just say I have removed him from my Christmas card list."
It was Montfort's turn to laugh.
"I have to say from the police reports that he does not sound like a
man who would be on my list either. At least not my Christmas card
list."
"You have access to the police reports then?" Asked Pandora, who was
beginning to see that this man had a good deal of authority.
He did not answer the question, but the conclusion was obvious.
"The other name that cropped up was that of Adrian Bancroft, did he
see the box?"
"No, Stewart said not, but he did see a photograph Stewart suspected that he was the one responsible for leaking the existence of the box."
"I think I will give that gentleman a visit." Said Montfort almost to
himself.
"Pandora, would you be willing to spend a little time at my office
when we can flesh out the details I already have?"
"Yes I don't mind that, but I'm going back to London as soon as I can
get to the station."
"My office is in Whitehall; perhaps I could drive you to your flat in
London?"
Pandora hesitated but in the end agreed. She had formed the opinion
that William Montfort was not a risk, not a risk to herself anyway. They
both took seats in the front of the Jaguar and as the car purred its way
onto the main road she couldn't help noticing the two cousins arguing
with each other on the pavement. Pandora could not imagine either of
them driving Stewart's Healey, it would probably be sold. She wondered
if she could buy it herself, just for sentimental reasons, she Knew Lucy
would love to drive it.
As Montfort dropped Pandora at her flat he arranged to pick her up
again at two the next afternoon. He apparently had someone else to see
in the morning.
***

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Adrian Bancroft arrived at his rooms just before ten in the morning.
William Montfort was waiting for him.
"Can I have a few words Doctor Bancroft?'
"What about?"
"If we can go inside." He indicated the main door with an outstretched
arm.
Adrian was alarmed by the look of the man, clearly an official of some
sort but from his bearing, someone high up, a top floor man
dangerous.
Once inside, in his own territory, Bancroft calmed down a little and
offered his guest a seat. There followed a frank exchange of views in
which Montfort had to resort to a measure of physical persuasion. It was
a skill in which William Montfort was adept but preferred not to use unless necessary. The outcome was that Montfort was given an account of
Bancroft's involvement in the affair and a name the only relevant name
Bancroft had, Monfort was sure of that. While the genius mathematician
was left dabbing his bloody nose with a tissue.
***
The box was still glowing, still counting down, but it was unseen inside Juliette's safe. She wanted rid of the box. Not only to collect the remainder of her fee, but also because the box sitting in her safe made her
feel uncomfortable.
She made a call to Benson.
"Yes, I understand Juliette; I have already sent a courier who should
arrive in London tomorrow. I was going to call you this evening with the
details."
"Who is the courier?"
"Her name is Delancey Parkes, very good at her job. Where do you
want to meet, or should she go to your flat?"
"Do you fully trust her?"
"Completely."
"Then it would be easiest if she came straight to my flat."
"OK I'll get her to call you and let you know the time. I will transfer
the remaining fee to you when I hear from her that she has the box. Your
part is over now Juliette, relax and enjoy the money."
Outside the building, concealed in the shrubbery, a lone figure had a
pair of binoculars trained on Juliette's window.
***
Pandora was collected by William Montfort as arranged and they went
to his office which was situated in the department of energy building

92

which Pandora found somewhat strange. But then her whole world had
become rather strange over the past few days.
They took a lift which rose for an unusually long time and opened into
a lobby with several closed doors. The decor was definitely last century
with an abundance of carved marble. This contrasted with Montfort's office which was very modern by comparison. Stainless steel was much in
evidence; a large pale wooden desk took prominence in the centre of the
room. There was deep pile carpeting and comfortable leather chairs and
a couch along one wall. There were no windows as far as Pandora could
tell. The walls were decorated with some large paintings, all by the same
artist whose name meant nothing to her. They were in an abstract form,
splashes of muted colours which Pandora found to be attractive in their
own way, but could not help the feeling that a chimpanzee could have
painted them. Pandora would readily accept that she was no art expert.
It was unusually quiet in the office with no sound of the traffic from
the street below. William drew a chair closer to his desk for her and indicated to Pandora that she should sit. He took his own seat behind the
desk.
"Have you any objection to my recording the conversation." He asked
casually.
"No, none at all."
"It's just easier than trying to make notes while I talk can I offer you
some tea or "
Pandora notice no sign that he had started any recording device and
wondered if the conversation was being monitored by someone else.
"No tea thank you, I'm fine shall we get on with this?"
"Of course, Now I have the statement which you gave to the police
concerning the box I take it you still stand by what you said at that
interview."
"Yes, it was all true no matter how incredible it may sound."
"The first question I have for you is one you may have difficulty
with Why did you conceal the find from the authorities?"
"In hind-sight I should not have done that At the time the box
seemed to be just of scientific interest I have to admit I had a selfish
wish to unlock its secrets myself. When it became apparent that it was
beyond me, we had already gone too far in keeping it secret."
"OK I suppose there is no point in pursuing the issue at the moment."
"If I could go back, William, I certainly would not follow the same
path."

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"Very well We, by which I mean my department, would like to examine the box naturally that means recovering it first. I spoke to your
colleague Doctor Bancroft earlier today. I was able to persuade him to
give me a name. It would appear that Doctor Moss Stewart had been
correct in his suspicions about Bancroft. He had sold, for a trifling sum,
the information he had about the box. He gave his contact your name
and Stewart's name and also where you could be located By the way,
he is still working on trying to decode the signal but so far with no success. He has promised that I will be the first to know if he makes progress . I think I am safe in letting you know that Doctor Bancroft is
now under continuous surveillance by my department."
"And the person he contacted, have you traced him?"
"Not personally, but he has been spoken to by an associate. Unfortunately this man was just a go-between, again making a small sum of
money for information. His own contact used a mobile number which is
no longer in use. The trail has gone cold for the moment I'm afraid,
though some very skilful people are working on it."
William leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.
"Pandora, is there anything else you discovered about the box that was
not in your report to the police?"
"Well yes, after a while I stopped talking about the box, it was clear to
me that the police were more interested in the kidnappers identities, the
box seemed to hold little interest for Inspector Wilkinson. I think he was
too sceptical about what I told him."
"That is the impression I have too can you enlighten me about your
other findings?"
"Yes you may find more technical details at Stewart's lab; he made a
lot of notes. The box is a small cube about 60 cm in height. It weighs
about 250 grammes. When it was first found it was glowing a golden colour but the last time I saw it, the box had started oscillating between
gold, blue and red on a six or seven second rotation. It is hypnotic the
colours seam to merge into each other.
If you touch the box with bare skin, you get a mild shock, almost like
an electric shock, but not exactly It's almost an emotional affect rather
than a physical one. Frankly I can't explain it, it needs to be experienced.
The box, and remember it may not be a box at all, that's just what it
looked like from a human perspective, appears to be made of a very
strong material, Stewart was unable to take a minute sample from it or
even mark it."

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Pandora paused for breath, she found herself talking fast as if she desperately needed to share the information with someone.
"Take your time Pandora, this is fascinating information."
"The surface structure was so smooth under magnification, that Stewart suggested that it might have been constructed an atom at a time, apparently, that's something we can do on a small scale, but Stewart said it
was beyond our technology with something like the box When Stewart
tried scanning the box, with no result by the way, it triggered the broad
spectrum emission which is the signal Adrian Bancroft is working on
but the signal is repeated at a set time a time that is getting shorter
Stewart worked out that if it continued the same way, it would reach a
point when the time between the signals became zero. He called it a
countdown."
"A countdown and when will it reach zero?"
Pandora closed her eyes as if counting the days.
"I think in another five days."

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Chapter

14

Delancey Parkes, late twenties, petite at five feet thee, and with a disarming smile, arrived from New York that evening and took her room at the
Hilton Green Park Hotel. She carefully nurtured her image as a frothy
headed, spoilt young woman. Beautiful and sexy but without intellect. In
fact the truth was very different. She had a sharp mind and maintained a
careful focus on the job she was doing, despite her scatter-brained appearance. Delancey found her act to be useful in deflecting suspicion that
she might be involved with anything criminal. Playing the part of a
vacuous young woman allowed her to get away with things that would
normally prove difficult to explain. She was dressed for business, her
curly blond hair cascaded across her shoulders. She wore a pink suit, low
cut white silk blouse and heels slightly too tall for comfort. She also wore
rather too much jewellery which made her appear to have more money
than taste. Her disguise did have a down side; it made her stand out in a
crowd. But once she had been seen and categorized as a silly young
thing, she quickly became invisible.
Once installed in her room she made a call to Juliette and arranged to
meet her at seven thirty to collect the package. She had carefully discussed the requirements of her contract with Benson. The delivery had to
be fast, that meant she would have to fly most of the way. Luckily the
airport scanners would not detect the package otherwise flying on a
commercial airline would not be possible. But there were other conditions that caused their own problems. The customer was paranoid about
his secrecy and wanted her to travel overland, in low profile, though
New Zealand. It seemed he was concerned that a flight to Queenstown
was too close to his home for him to be comfortable with if she were being followed. None of that was impossible to manage but increased the
complexity, unnecessarily so as far as Delancey was concerned. Besides
she was never followed, she was a professional.
***
There is an often quoted saying: To a man with a hammer, all problems
look like a nail. Although not completely blind to other possibilities,

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William Montfort tended the fit the profile. To a man in national security
as his focus, all problems look like terrorism. To his mind, although he
believed that what Pandora had told him was true as far as she was concerned, his own interpretation of the box was that it was a terrorist
weapon which had been planted to be found and brought innocently into the County. The evidence which did not support this view was seen as
ambiguous and he gave it less weight when coming to his conclusion. He
needed to find that box.
Montfort and a small team of technicians arrived at Stewart's lab and
began an investigation of his findings. His computer was the most useful
piece of equipment for them. There was actually very little else, certainly
no physical evidence of the box's existence, but the frequency analysis of
the signal was interesting. As was the calculated zero point of the countdown. It was the fifteenth of September at 15:38. If something catastrophic was going to happen, that date was too close for comfort. There was
too little time left.
One of the technicians pointed out a fairly obvious fact but one which
had not occurred to Montfort:
"Sir, it's possible that we could use the signal burst to locate the box."
"Well done Brian, what sort of range could we track it at?"
"From a quick look at the signal that Doctor Moss recorded, there
seems to be a peak of signal strength at 15 GHz but it tails off on either
side. In principal, with a sensitive enough receiver we could pick up the
signal from thousands of miles away except."
"I know, we need line of sight at that frequency."
"Not exactly Sir, but near enough and at the power the signal has it
would be a bit like looking for a needle in a haystack. If the box were in
an electromagnetic shield, like a heavy metal box, there would be hardly
any signal at all. To stand any chance we would need height to scan for
the signal."
"What sort of power is the transmission?"
"According to Doctor Moss's data it's less than five Watts, that's only
about double what a mobile phone puts out. It definitely was not intended to be a long range signal."
"We would have to triangulate the signal as well to locate it I
suppose?"
"Yes but we have one bit of luck on our side we know the exact
times when the signal bursts will occur."

97

Montfort made a call on a secure and coded line to his superiors. He

needed helicopters with specific signal tracing capability and he needed
them fast.
***
Delancey's taxi pulled up outside Juliette's flat. As she got out of the
cab her appearance caught the attention of the figure in the bushes. Once
Mickey had regained his consciousness and slinked from the warehouse,
he had spent most of his time watching and following Juliette who still
had the box as far as he knew. The box that was his passport to the big
time. He had kept a low profile and so far had gone unseen. Juliette had
hardly left her home since returning to London and Mickey had been
able to keep a close watch on her. He desperately wanted the box and he
knew that there would be a handover soon which would give him his
opportunity. But despite his keen desire to get his hands on the box, he
was starting to grow weary of keeping watch on his own. At last there
was something of interest happening.
The sexy babe had caught his eye and not only for the obvious reasons. He decided to follow her and see if she was meeting Juliette.
As Juliette opened her door to the young woman, Mickey felt sure his
suspicions were confirmed. Unless he acted now it would be too late. He
knew he should stay calm and choose his moment but the rush of adrenaline was too much. The voice in his head said Go Go Go! He sprang at
the door and grabbed the woman from behind. He had a knife in his
hand. The woman's body felt soft and sensuous as she squirmed against
his skinny frame. Her perfume almost overpowered him with lust as he
squeezed her tight, the knife flashed as he held its edge against her
pretty throat. He wanted her almost as much as he wanted the box but
his voice told him One thing at a time Mickey
Juliette had thought that Mickey would be long gone by now, licking
his wounds and dreaming up a new fantasy.
"What are you doing you crazy kid?"
"Hello Juliette you know what I want give me the box or this little
darling will be gargling her own blood."
"Come, on Mickey why can't we be friends, just put down the knife
and we can talk about what money I owe you."
"Oh no, you tricked me, and beat me up twice!" he spluttered. "I
can't trust you any more I thought you were going to look after me; be
my friend; teach me the tricks of the trade."
"I will I can make it all right Mickey "

98

"No It's too late just give me the box, or I swear I'll stick her like
a crazy bitch"
Mickey held the point of his flashing knife against Delancey's throat
and pressed until the woman screamed.
***
Montfort had managed to organize helicopters equipped with sensitive signal locating receivers in short order as if it were a simple matter
for him to summon up the military. There were just eight in all preparing
to scan from the South coast up to the Midlands. Flying at high elevation
would give them a chance of finding a signal that land based equipment
could not match but eight were hardly enough for scanning such a large
area. However it was all he could convince his superiors to allocate at
short notice. Montfort knew it was a long shot. The box could have been
taken anywhere by now. It may even be out of the country.
According to Stewart's calculation there should have been a signal at
13:08 that afternoon. The next one was scheduled for 00:48, twelve
minutes to one in the morning. He wanted his crews in the air ready to
listen for that signal. As the time passed, success was slipping away, yet
he had to sit and wait for the box to send its signal. Montfort paced the
floor in frustration.
***
Despite her appearance, Delancey was well educated and had completed a degree in psychology before turning her attention to an easy
and lucrative lifestyle as a courier of contraband. She had quickly drawn
a conclusion about Mickey's state of mind. He showed an immature personality, slightly delusional and was probably fixated on Juliette as a
mother figure but showed, as far as she could tell, no evidence of serious
psychopathy which would be needed if he were to kill a stranger in cold
blood. Delancey took the calculated risk that he would be unlikely to use
the knife.
She spoke softly to him in her most seductive voice:
"Mickey, darlin' you wouldn't hurt little old Delancey would you?"
At the instant that she felt Mickey's grip soften, she raised her right leg
and then slammed the heel down on Mickey's foot. A stiletto heel may
impair the wearer's comfort but it makes a formidable weapon. Mickey
screamed as the slender steel shaft was driven though his canvas shoe
and into his foot.
Juliette responded instantly; her training at the French DGSE was not
forgotten. She grabbed Mickey's knife from his hand, and dazed him

99

with a palm punch to his head. She quickly stood behind him as his
knees buckled and took his head in her hands.
Delancey shuddered at the sound of his cervical vertebrae shattering
as Juliette snapped his head round.
There was just a surprised gurgle from Mickey as his lifeless body fell
to the floor at Juliette's feet.
Delancey's cool composure was finally broken, she stood trembling.
Juliette took her hand and led the young woman to her bedroom. She
went back into the sitting room and poured a large glass of bourbon. She
took it into her room, handed it to Delancey and closed the bedroom
door.
There was a plastic tarpaulin sheet in the kitchen which she rolled the
lifeless body onto, wrapped it up and secured the grim parcel with tape.
She pulled Mickey unto her spare room and closed the door.
She then calmly unbolted her TV from the wall, slid it back on its
hinge and opened the safe. She removed the box which was inside an
M&S shopping bag. When she opened her bedroom door, she found Delancey much recovered and the glass empty.
"I'm sorry you got caught up in that, Delancey. He was a problem I
thought I had solved."
"I guess you've solved the problem now How did you learn to do
that that neck break thing?"
"A former life don't ask would you like another drink?"
"I would, but I think I would prefer to leave now, if you don't mind
Do you have the package?"
Juliette handed her the bag.
"Don't touch the box with your bare skin it bites."
Delancey shrugged and put the box in her handbag.
As Juliette let her out she said:
"Don't worry there will be nothing to connect you in any way with
what happened tonight Just try and forget it ever happened."
Delancey gave Juliette a weak smile and was gone. She walked about
half a mile before calling a taxi. Her idea was to distance herself from the
scene of the murder before any one saw her, but also to clear her head.
Just try and forget it ever happened No chance of that. Despite her young
age Delancey thought of herself as a tough customer; seen everything;
done everything. Tonight proved to her how wrong she had been in that
assumption.
When Delancey reached her hotel she inquired about the hotel safe as
if she was a complete innocent in in such matters.

100

"Oh yes, Miss completely secure, heavy iron construction, impervious

to attack."
"Good, will you put this little trinket in for me? I'll collect it early tomorrow morning when I check out. My sweet boyfriend just spoils me to
death with his expensive gifts." She giggled as she handed the tightly
taped package over for safe keeping and then headed for her room. She
had an appointment with her mini bar; it was amnesia she really wanted.
Back at Juliette's apartment she hastily dialled a number.
"Walter, I'm so sorry to do this to you but I'm in trouble "
In a shorter time than she had expected Walter was at her door.
"Have you got a plan, boss?"
"It's a bit risky and not at all pleasant but yes."
Walter nodded, his expression said: I'm with you, whatever it involves. It was what Juliette had hoped to see. Despite her ice cool demeanour, cracks were beginning to show around the edges.
"Thank you Walter I will not forget this."
"I'm not saying I told you so boss, but "
"I know, I always knew, but that stupid kid got under my skin damn
it."
They waited until it was fully dark and then Walter went to his Transit
van and brought up the small roll of carpet he had in the back which
Juliette had asked him to bring. They rolled the body in the carpet and
carried it down to the van, one each end of the gruesome package. They
slid it without ceremony through the back doors. Walter pulled off the
wire to the rear number plate light as an added precaution and they
headed to a particular stretch of motorway that would suit their
purpose.
Juliette unrolled the body from the carpet with gloved hands and removed the tape from the tarpaulin. Mickey was revealed in the dim light
inside the van. He looked peaceful Juliette thought; she hoped he was at
peace. He had been a liability to her since she had met him, and now in
death he still was. Juliette made sure that there was no forensic evidence
on his body. She checked his wallet. There were a few notes, a bank card
and driving licence. Nothing else, no family photographs, nothing. He
had been a loner. She put the wallet back in his pocket; it contained nothing to link Mickey to her or the others. Taking a deep breath Juliette
rolled Mickey to the back of the van.
Eventually Walter found what he wanted, a heavy articulated truck
and trailer unit travelling fast, probably heading to the Continent with a
tight schedule to meet. He overtook the truck and got a hundred metres

101

ahead lining his van up with the wheel tracks of the truck; he slowed
and gave Juliette the sign. She kicked open the doors and pushed the
body from the back of the van with an uncontrolled scream of anguish.
About twenty seconds later the heavy truck's wheels crushed the unseen body beyond recognition. The truck driver did not see the body and
barely noticed the slight jolt as his wheels rolled over the slender youth.
He did not stop; he had time to make up.
Walter took the next exit and glanced at his watch. It was twelve
minutes to one. Pandora's box let out another signal.
Across the country no signal was received by the helicopters. The box
was secure in the heavy metal safe. The next signal was due at eleven
fifty three in the morning. Montfort rescheduled another flight for that
time. He was beginning to lose all hope of locating the box.

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Chapter

15

The next morning Delancey had a serious hangover. She lay in bed, unwilling to move but knowing she had little option. From her bed she had
a view out across Half Moon street to the hotel opposite Fleming's of
Mayfair. She could see the large gold coloured letters proudly displaying
the name, shining in the early morning sunlight. Delancey slipped her
legs out of bed and gingerly sat up. She needed fresh air and took the
few paces to her balcony door. From here, looking to her right, she could
see across Piccadilly to the trees of Green Park which looked fresh and
verdant after the gentle summer rain that had fallen overnight. She took
some deep breaths. Her hangover was a direct consequence of consuming most of the contents of her mini bar. This was certainly not what she
did normally when on a job and she was angry with herself. The drink
had softened the distress of her experience of the previous evening, but
in the cold light of day there was still no amnesia just a throbbing pain
behind her eyes and a churning stomach. Even less appealing was remembering the sight of the body and even harder for her, the sound of
his neck as Juliette snapped it. The memories were still all too real.
It was the first dead body she had seen. Harder to come to terms with
was the way in which he had died, and her own involvement in his sudden demise. She had allowed herself to be followed which she thought
could not happen. The incident was a trigger for her to consider just how
professional she really was. She left her balcony and the sound of the
morning traffic below and forced herself to make a start on her day.
Delancey could not face breakfast but drank water and took
paracetamol. As she put on her make-up and her dizzy blond uniform
she had the sudden dread of one day finding that she had actually become the woman who was staring back at her from the hotel mirror. At
that moment she swore to herself that she would not let that happen.
Most of the jobs she took were relatively straight forward. This one, although it paid rather well, had got off to an unfortunate start. Delancey
hoped the rest of the journey would prove to be less eventful. She had
certainly planned the journey with care and had covered all the

103

eventualities that she could think of. But Mickey's death was a totally unforeseen occurrence and Delancy's confidence had taken a beating.
She collected her special package from the safe and put it in her
shoulder bag which she would be carrying as hand luggage. She was flying with Virgin Airlines to Australia; it was a direct flight to Sydney with
just a stop at Hong Kong for refuelling and change of crew. Flying time
was scheduled for about twenty two hours, little short of one full day but
on a long flight like this one, the prevailing weather conditions could
make a noticeable difference to the actual time. Her plan was to rest
overnight in Sydney and then take a flight to Auckland the following
morning. Flights between Australia and New Zealand were almost
treated like domestic flights; at one time passports were not even
needed. It was a little more difficult these days but Delancey expected no
trouble on the Tasman leg of her journey.
It was a long time to be in an aircraft without a break but once though
the security check Delancey could relax for a while. She hoped to sleep
for most of the flight. She checked out of the hotel and took a taxi to the
airport. The driver annoyed her with his incessant chatter, normally she
would have enjoyed engaging in a little flirty banter with him, but today
her pounding head and churning stomach was in control.
She was relieved when she finally arrived at Heathrow and could pay
the driver off. Delancey's nerves were also stretched by the unknown
factors which she had to contend with. The unusual package which may
trigger who knows what reaction from the airport's electronic scanning
equipment just added to the stress and made her job more difficult. She
had the assurance from Benson that the scanners would not detect the
box but how did he know for certain? Airport security was constantly
being upgraded and maybe they had new and better equipment.
Once at Heathrow she checked her luggage in and carried the box in
her shoulder bag. Delancey could feel herself getting more and more
nervous as the time for her flight drew closer. She had trained herself to
keep her composure. The last thing a contraband courier needs is to look
nervous when confronted by customs or security. But today she was
finding it difficult. The flight was due to take off at 11:45 Delancey kept
looking at her watch. She knew that checking her watch was a sure sign
that she was nervous, exactly the impression she did not want to give,
but she was nervous.
***
William Montfort had another signal due at 11:53 and was in contact
with the helicopters. He had set up temporary headquarters at an air-

104

force base and was in constant contact with his team. He needed them to
be in position ready and waiting in good time. Every signal he missed
meant that he was closer to failure; closer to the countdown and
whatever that would bring. He could not allow that to happen.
***
Delancey joined a queue of passengers and edged her way towards the
security check. As she approached the moment of truth. She managed to
strike up a conversation with another passenger, a young man, probably
a student and easy prey for her flirtatious charm. Anything to make her
look unconcerned. She was laughing at a shared joke as it was her turn
to be checked.
The security officer looked her over. He was skilled in appraising
people. It was his job. He could tell from the way she was chatting inanely to the other passenger, that the attractive but silly woman was unlikely to be a terrorism threat. Actually the ones you have to look out for
are easy to spot, usually foreign, always serious looking, furtive He
had made a study and was an expert.
"Have you got any of these items in your hand luggage Miss?" The
routine questions were starting to bore him as much as they annoyed the
passengers who resented the delay and inconvenience.
He showed her the form.
"No knives, scissors, knitting needles, tweezers, make-up, hair sprays,
toothpaste, drinks If you have a lap-top it will need to be scanned separately guns, toy guns "
The list was extensive and got longer every day as the security agencies thought of more and more things that could be potentially dangerous. Delancey remembered hearing on a radio programme that the
greatest improvement in aircraft security had been achieved by simply
locking the door to the flight deck.
"No Honey," she smiled "just the bomb in my bra do you want to
check it out?" Delancey turned to the passenger she had been joking with
and they both bust out laughing.
"Yes very funny, I've never heard that one before Just pass along
though the body scanner will you please Miss."
"OK next "
She was through, as Benson had promised there had been no problem.
She made her way to the departure lounge for another wait, but now
she was home free for today anyway.

105

As she took her seat in business class Delancey sighed with relief and
settled herself in for a long and hopefully relaxing journey. She
wondered what films they would be showing.
As the aircraft taxied along the runway Montfort's helicopters were
already in the air. Listening for a signal.
At 11:58 the jet had reached its cruising altitude and the automatic pilot was maintaining the flight path to Hong Kong. The box delivered its
signal on time. The pilots noticed a little static on the radio but it was of
brief duration not worth reporting.
Montfort got the news almost immediately. Two of the helicopters had
picked up a signal. It was actually coming from above them and moving
fast. They were unable to get an exact fix on the location as the signal
duration was too short but it was something at last and had confirmed
that, in principal, the box could be traced.
Montfort drew the obvious conclusion. The box was in an aircraft and
it was almost certainly by now out of the UK airspace. Montfort contacted his department with the information he had, and instructed that all
the flights on traffic control radar should be checked and a list be made
of the ones that were possible targets. From the limited data available the
box appeared to be heading in an easterly direction towards Northern
Europe but its final destination could be anywhere. Once outside British
jurisdiction Montfort had no authority to act, but he could alert other local security agencies to the issue.
The next signal was not due until 22:23, and by then it would be too
far away for the UK team to receive the signal. As Montfort had feared,
the box had slipped out of his grasp.
***
Delancey was settled and comfortable, her hang-over was finally receding and she found herself slipping into a welcome state of relaxation.
She felt that she might be able to manage a little lunch, "I wonder if they
have Champagne?"
The jet arced its way across the sky leaving a vapour trail high in the
late morning air. The flight took it across Northern Europe, towards Russia and then on toward Asia and its refuelling stop.
The potential destinations for the box were more than Montfort had
expected. Aircraft traffic had become so numerous that at any moment
there were hundreds of planes in the general vicinity. Montfort arranged
that all the friendly Countries that might be the destination were sent the
relevant information. It was all Montfort could do. He consoled himself

106

with the thought that his own territory was now free of the threat and
stood down the helicopter search teams with mixed emotions.
Finally after almost a full day and night in the air Delancey's Jet
touched down in Sydney. Once again she felt a surge of apprehension as
the next testing phase loomed ahead. She had spent most of the flight
quietly keeping to herself and making little conversation. She had inhabited her own personality for most of the flight, but now it was time to assume her dizzy blond persona again.
Clutching her one piece of hand luggage, she made her way from the
plane and towards the customs and passport control area. Airports all
look much the same, although it was Delancey's first arrival at Kingsford
Smith, it all looked very familiar.
In the distance across the polished floor tiles of the airport she saw
them: Two military policemen.
They saw her too; they had been waiting for her.
"There she is corporal." said the officer in an unnecessarily loud voice.
"After her Corporal."
Delancey started to run towards the baggage claim. She almost fell on
the slippery polished surface and kicked off her shoes abandoning the
stilettos which were impossible to run in.
"Stop her " The officer shouted towards a bemused airport security
guard. He took off after the woman at a sprint and saw her bound over
the barrier by the quarantine area and slip through the exit her
stockinged feet still scrabbling for grip. Delancey was not dressed for
running, her tight skirt was slowing her progress, she needed to use cunning and dived into a crowd of people who were waiting to meet passengers from the plane and ducked down, there was no point in heading for
the main exit, she would be too easy to catch in the open. Delancey
turned right and headed towards the domestic arrivals area, dodging left
and right past people who were casually meandering around. She
passed the information desk and ANZ bank; ahead she spotted the toilets and quickly slipped inside. She locked herself in a booth, breathing
heavily, still clutching her bag. The guard had seen her progress and was
not far behind her. He was carrying a little too much weight and was
breathing hard; the woman had proved faster than expected. He hesitated for a moment at the door, unwilling to enter the ladies, eventually
he burst through the door.
"I know you're in here, don't make me break down the door." The
guard could hear Delancey's out of breath gasping. And rapped on the
door to her booth.

107

The two military police followed the guard in.

"Have you got her?"
"Yea mate she's in here, come on out miss, it's all over." He gasped
between gulps of air.
Delancey unlocked the door; there was nowhere else to run to.
"Well done, we'll take over now Corporal, handcuffs I think." The officer patted the security guard on the shoulder. "What's your name mate,
I'll make sure your supervisor hears about your quick thinking well
done."
"Ah, no worries, it was nothing." The security guard said still out of
breath from his unexpected work-out.
The corporal brought over Delancey's shoes for her and then fitted the
handcuffs to her slender wrists. He took her shoulder bag and handed it
to his officer and then took a firm grip of her arm.
All eyes were on them, as they marched her with bowed head and a
defeated expression on her pretty face, out of the airport and into a dark
coloured Holden Calais. The eyes of an observant newspaper reporter
who made a good living from grabbing interviews with passing celebrities were especially taken by the spectacle.
The Holden drove off along the M5 East Freeway into the cool air of
an Australian Winter's morning.

108

Chapter

16

Five minutes later the dark coloured Holden Calais was driving down
towards the coast road on its way to Brighton-Le-Sands and the Novatel
hotel where Delancey's local support team had booked her a room for
the night.
"I thought that fat security guy was never going to catch you Delancey." Laughed one of the men. "That was one neat way to slip unchecked
past customs."
"Thank you gentlemen it was kinda fun, I had to slow down to make
sure the guard could see where I was going I swear I could have made
it clean into the parking lot." Delancey was quite pleased with her performance in the little drama which had neatly sidestepped the airport
customs. It was a variation on a theme that she had used before and
probably would again but not for a while.
"Have you managed to get the things I need?" She asked. Her plan
meant that she had to abandon her suitcase, and while there was nothing
in it of value or more importantly, that could be used to trace her, she
was now left with just her shoulder bag.
"Yep, in your room. There's a suitcase with clothes and make-up, and
the brown wig you asked for is in here."
He opened a small briefcase and showed Delancey her newly acquired
New Zealand passport and air ticket for the next day's flight to Auckland
in the name of Joanna Brown, there was the wig and a small amount of
Australian currency. There was also a few hundred New Zealand dollars
in an envelope and importantly a credit card which had been set up for
her also in the name of Joanna Brown.
"Oh and here's the jumper you asked for "
He leaned over to the front seat and pulled a light grey sweater over
and handed it to Delancey.
After parking the car at the hotel, the two men removed their fake uniforms and replaced them with tracksuits. Delancey put on the wig, a pair
of glasses and wiped off most of her make-up. She took off her pink

109

jacket and pulled on the sweater. Her appearance was transformed from
dizzy blond to pretty librarian.
The two men showed her the way to her room on the fourth floor. It
was bright, airy and spacious with a modern decor. There was a large
balcony with a delightful view across the blue expanse of Botany Bay.
She could see the airport runway in the distance which stretched out into
the Bay. Just below her she could see the golden sands of the beach
which ran along the coast road in front of the hotel. Despite being
winter, there was not a cloud in the brilliant blue sky and Delancey
watched for a while as some pleasure boats churned the azure water into
a brilliant white wake which trailed behind them. She thought that this
could be a place to visit again when she had less urgent matters to deal
with.
It was away from the city but just a short taxi ride to get back to the
airport for the next day. Delancey was pleased with the arrangements
her Australian contacts had made, they had certainly earned the fee
which she had already deposited in their account.
Handshakes were exchanged and the two Aussies left. All that remained for them was to replace the car's genuine number plates on the
Holden and their job would be over. A nice little earner for a morning's
work.
Delancey needed to get the box secured in the hotel safe. She changed
her skirt which did not quite complement her new quieter profile and
went to reception with the box. It was soon nestled safely in the heavy
metal structure. Although Delancey had no idea that the box was sending out signals, by putting it in the safe, she was also making her own
position more secure. The signals were starting to come closer together
now, the next one was due at 8:18 London time, that was 19:18 Sydney
time.
***
The Australian National Security Service had received Montfort's
warning about the possible terrorist bomb and was preparing a helicopter at the airport for the evening when the next signal was due. This
was just seen as a precaution, the chances of the bomb coming to Sydney
were, in their opinion quite small.
The coming and going of the security personnel attracted the attention
of Greg Fellows, the reporter who had earlier seen the military police
chase down and arrest the young woman. Maybe there was a story here.
He called in to the office with what he knew. They checked with the military liaison department who denied all knowledge of any arrest at the

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airport. As far as the news desk was concerned, such an emphatic denial
was absolute conformation that something unusual was happening.
Delancey took advantage of the hotel's facilities and spent some time
in the steam room, easing the aches that twenty two hours in an aircraft
inevitably bring. She then showered and changed into jeans and a sweater and took a walk along the beach. This was the legendary Botany Bay.
Captain Cook would be amazed to see the place today Delancey thought.
Despite the clear blue sky, there was a cool wind which managed to
dispel the illusion of a summer's day. But it was still an enjoyable walk
after her long flight.
She took a late lunch at an Italian restaurant which overlooked the bay
and then returned to the hotel at an easy meandering pace. The afternoon was intended to be spent with a book which she had purchased in
the hotel. But somehow it caused her to feel sleepy so she abandoned all
pretence of reading and napped before taking a light meal in her room.
She turned on the TV while she ate her salad, there was a local news
programme on and she was alarmed to find herself watching a report
concerning an event at the airport:
"A spokesperson for the Australian military intelligence today denied any
knowledge of a potential terrorist attack on Australian soil. Earlier today a woman thought to be involved, was arrested after a prolonged chase around the airport involving much of the airport's security officers and a contingent of military police. The woman was able to avoid capture for some time before being surrounded in the toilet facilities. The unnamed woman was eventually escorted
away by military police. Our correspondent also understands that a helicopter
search team is preparing to do an air sweep in the vicinity of Kingsford Smith
airport. The Military is keeping tight lipped about the affair. We will keep you
informed as the evolving story develops "
Although Delancey could make no sense of the talk of a terrorist attack
or helicopter sweep, the woman in the prolonged chase could only be a
reference to herself. There was nothing she could do about it but was far
from being relaxed about the news report. Luckily there had been no
film coverage or photographs of her chase which meant she was unlikely
to be recognized. However Delancey decided to remain in her room for
the rest of her stay at the hotel and attract as little attention as possible.
As the clock turned to 19:18 the box emitted another signal, but inside
the metal walls of the hotel safe the signal was blocked. The Australian
security team stood down the helicopter search after there was no sign of
a signal. They assumed that the terrorist threat was not meant for
Australia.

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***
It was early morning in London and Pandora was still not dressed
when she received the phone call from Montfort:
"Hello Pandora, I hope it's not too early to call but I thought you
would like to know about some developments."
"Um yes, I suppose, what have you got?"
Pandora had been trying to forget about the box and all that it had
brought to her.
"Well, it looks as if the box is out of the Country, we are unable to tell
exactly where it has gone but we picked up a signal two days ago and it
was clear that the box was on an aircraft heading for destination
unknown."
"I see, the countdown must be getting close to zero by now."
"Another three and a half days, yes."
"I hope Stewart was right and the countdown will just result in some
benign event wherever the box is. I still feel responsible for bringing
the box to life."
"I don't think there is any point in blaming yourself for the events of
the last few days Pandora; bigger forces have been at play here, I'm
afraid."
"Mm, I expect you're right."
Pandora was not quite sure what he had meant by that.
"The other thing that you might wish to know, and the main reason for
my call, is that the body of a man has been recovered. His DNA matches
the blood found at the scene of Doctor Moss's death. The police suspect
he is the one who fired the gun."
Pandora did not want to hear any of this another dead body, when
was this going to end?
"Oh "
"Yes, the body was in a bit of a mess but it looks as if it could be the
man who was following you in Cambridge."
"So how did the man die, was it an accident or did something more
sinister happen to him? Do the police have any idea?"
"No, not really From what I understand, there was nothing to indicate that he had been murdered but on the other hand the circumstances
were unusual. His body was found on the motorway and had been run
over by a number of heavy vehicles before the police were alerted. It
could have been an accident or suicide, the evidence just isn't there to
come to a definitive conclusion Well that's all I have at the moment
Pandora. If I hear any more I'll let you know."

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"OK thank you for thinking of me William, goodbye."

Pandora hung up her phone. The mental image she conjured up of Mr
Acne being spread across the motorway did nothing for her mood. And
there was another issue which she had to face up to.
It was time for the new term to start and Pandora was not sure if she
still had a job or not. Her career seemed less important to her now but
she decided that she would have to talk to her Professor and find out
where she stood.
Deakin had also thought over the matter. His perspective was different to Pandora's. He was disappointed to have lost the opportunities that
the discovery of the box promised, but in effect nothing had changed
from the end of the last term. He decided to make no major changes to
Pandora's status, she was still valuable to him and the affair could be
hung over her head like a Damocles' sword. The idea gave Deakin a feeling of satisfaction. Pandora had been getting above her station of late
and this affair would redress the balance to an acceptable degree.
Later that morning when Pandora had decided she could no longer
put it off she made the call.
"Professor Deakin it's Pandora."
"Good morning Doctor Summers, I had intended calling you myself,
but with the pressure of my commitments, I had not yet been able to
schedule it." He paused for breath and then continued without giving
Pandora the chance to speak.
"I think after considering the mistakes for which you were responsible, but also taking your previous adequate performance in to account, I
can overlook the unfortunate affair for the moment. Naturally your advancement will now be frozen for the next year or two and I will be looking for an improvement in your general performance before I will be able
to guarantee your medium term future with my department."
His style of speaking and the content of what he had just said was
more than Pandora could tolerate.
"Professor, when I needed your support in the last few days, I found
no trace of it, no trace of loyalty, no trace of decent human behaviour. I
shall not be continuing in your department this year. I intend taking a
sabbatical until I can find a position in a different and more compatible
university. Goodbye."
It was not the outcome that Pandora had intended when she made the
call. A helping of humble pie and then back to normal but that man
was just insufferable.

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The call had somehow lifted a weight from her shoulders. Pandora felt
suddenly free to follow her dreams, whatever they were.
***
In her hotel room in Sydney, Delancey was still concerned about the
media broadcast. She decided to call Benson and seek his opinion. It was
unusual for her to call her client during an operation but the circumstances were unusual in this case.
She explained about the broadcast and listened as Benson replied to
her with a detectable tightening of his vocal cords which betrayed a definite trace of panic in his voice.
"Shit, shit I don't need this Not when I'm so close Listen Delancey, on no account can we let the Collector know about this, you know
he is paranoid about his own security and any sniff of trouble and he
could easily cut and run. You could be in big trouble with that guy."
"I think you might be overreacting a little Charles, I'm sure your customer will still want the item. At this stage I am more concerned about
how the authorities traced me to Australia If in fact they did. Do any
of your contacts have any more information?"
"All I know is that there were scans made by the UK security, as far as
I know they found nothing."
"Why didn't you warn me of that before Charles? You could have put
me in a danger that I was not aware of. In fact Charles, you did put me in
danger and that is unacceptable."
"My contact in the UK led me to believe that the search was abandoned when nothing was found, so I thought there was no need to
worry you unnecessarily."
"So what alerted the Australians do you think?"
"I think it was probably information from the UK security just to be on
the lookout. It's pretty clear that they found nothing otherwise they
would have traced you by now, Listen Delancey just carry on with the
delivery and speed things up as much as possible. Above all don't disclose any of this to the Collector. Do you still have his phone number
that I gave you for use in an emergency?"
"Yes of course."
"Well for Christ's sake don't use it, just get that package to him fast and
I'll double your fee."
"Double my fee? OK Charles, I'll be in touch."
Delancey was far from reassured by the conversation. Benson appeared to be close to the edge. She wondered what was at stake for him.
The thing that really worried her was being offered double the fee

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That was a sure sign of a man in panic. A man in panic was a danger to
himself but he could also be a danger to everyone around him.
After Benson had finished his conversation with his courier he felt it
was urgent for him to get his hands on the money before anything went
wrong. He was no longer thinking clearly but acting on self-interest driven instinct. He sent a message to the Collector saying that the box would
be in New Zealand tomorrow and to please complete his side of the bargain and transfer the funds as he had agreed.
The Collector was unmoved by the request and saw it as a sign of unprofessionalism on Benson's part. He had already forcefully made his
position clear that the funds would be transferred only when he had
taken delivery. It was by no means a trivial sum that was involved. The
Collector was beginning to have doubts about Charles Benson.

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Chapter

17

The next morning Delancey's focus was on putting distance between herself and Sydney. The sooner she was in another country, the safer she
would feel. There is a fine line between over confidence and disaster.
Delancey chose to be cautious. Fortunately there had been no further reports of the airport incident and she hoped it was just a case of a news
man putting two and two together and seeing it add up to a scoop.
Her procedure would be the same as when she left London. Adopt her
disguise, collect the package from the safe and get to the airport with as
little fuss as possible. Her librarian persona was easier to maintain that
the dizzy blond one and she felt more relaxed in that guise. Her true
character was somewhere in the middle though Delancey thought,
hoped even, that it was closer to librarian than dizzy. Sometimes she was
not too sure who she really was any more.
A growing cynicism had polished off the edges of her teenage naivety
to leave a young woman who found it hard to trust anyone. It was hard
to be herself any more.
Delancey found herself hungry after her sleep; she was fully able to
face breakfast unlike her morning in London and took some eggs and
juice in the dining room. She returned to her room, took another long
and wistful look at the view of the alluring bay from her balcony and
packed her few clothes. A final check in the mirror to confirm that her
look conformed to the image she had in mind, and she collected her
package from the safe.
She had the wig and glasses, complemented by minimal make up and
wore a sweater and scarf with faded blue jeans. Over her jeans she wore
a pair of calf length boots which may have been slightly too sexy with
their stiletto heels but otherwise Delancey was happy with the look. She
tied her hair back in a short pony tail and managed to look quite unremarkable; just a traveller on her way home. Delancey's lifestyle was, on
the face of it glamorous, always visiting new places and often living the
high life. It made her a lot of money but at the expense of too much
loneliness, long nights in hotels rooms spent on her own, no one to share

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the highs and lows of her day. No one to confide her dreams and fears
with. No one to hold her when she needed it.
There were always taxis waiting at the hotel. The ride to the airport
was short but the drivers could charge over the odds for the short trip,
no one complained. It was a lucrative place to make a pick up.
Delancey was soon back at the airport, confident that no one would recognize her. As in London she passed through the checks, her passport
was accepted without comment. The passport was the genuine article
which had been expertly "lifted" and altered to suit. It did not come
cheap and was best used once only. The flight across the Tasman Sea
was uneventful and much shorter than her last one at about three and a
half hours.
As she had expected, Delancey was able to pass straight through the
baggage retrieval and out into the Auckland afternoon without being
stopped. She collected her white Toyota Corolla rental car from Avis and
started the drive to her first stop. She had arranged motel accommodation at Lake Taupo which sat in the centre of the North Island. The lake
had been created aeons ago by a huge volcanic explosion which left an
enormous crater but now it was a peaceful tourist attraction. The only
signs of its apocalyptic past were the few hot springs which gently
bubbled and steamed in the winter air along its edges.
It was a two hundred and fifty kilometre drive and would take about
three and a half hours, possibly a little longer with a break. Delancey was
not used to driving on the left of the road and intended keeping her
speed down and enjoying the drive. As she finally found the motorway
South after several false turns, she was glad to be leaving the airport behind her. In New Zealand she felt she had reclaimed her anonymity. The
Corolla purred along effortlessly at close to the speed limit. But her
thoughts kept returning to the concerns she had over Benson and his
sudden loss of composure. It was unlikely that he could put her at risk,
but maybe the Collector should be put in the picture.
As her primary contact, and the one paying her, Delancey's responsibility was to Benson, but she also felt that the Collector should not have
his safety compromised. In fact the Collector was the one who was ultimately paying her fee, Benson was just an intermediary. She was unsure
what to do, her professionalism told her to carry on regardless, but her
conscience was whispering something else at her. Gnawing at her own
composure.
It was now approaching five in the afternoon, which seemed quite
wrong to Delancey; she was still more attuned to New York time and

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had gone through so many time zones in the past few days that she had
a new appreciation of the term Jet Lag. She decided to find somewhere to
take a break and found a parking spot in the next small town she came
to: Matamata. It was a typical small New Zealand town, more of a village
to her New York eyes. Even here there was a McDonalds and although
she would no longer have crossed the threshold of one back in the States,
it amused her to try out the New Zealand version. She had a Big Mac
and fries and a large diet Coke. Disappointingly it was exactly the same
as she remembered back home as a child; it was no longer her food of
choice, it sat like a greasy weight in her stomach, but at least she had
tried it.
Back in the car park she decided to do something about her concerns
over Benson, frankly she had lost faith in him and finally decided to contact the Collector directly. The number that Benson had given her was on
her phone and despite what he had told her, she made the call.
"Hello, my name is Delancey Parkes; we have a mutual contact,
Charles Benson. I am couriering a package to you on his behalf."
The accent was a familiar one, reminding him of his years in the Big
Apple, despite that he was angered that his home phone line was being
used by someone he did not know about something which should definitely be kept secret. His first sentence was delivered with aggression as a
sentry might shout "Who goes there?"
"Hello Ms Parkes, how did you get this number may I ask?"
"Charles gave it to me for use only in emergency, he said."
"That means there is some kind of emergency?"
"Not exactly that, but I felt that I should contact you with some concerns I have."
"Go on "
"Well, I don't know if Charles has been keeping you up to date with
the delivery of your package, but in Australia there was a news broadcast which concerned me. It indicated that the authorities may be looking
for the item in question. I spoke to Charles with my concerns and he
sounded well in quite a panic he gave me the feeling that he was losing his normal composure."
"Did Benson have anything else to say?"
"He urged me to rush the delivery as quickly as possible, and what
worried me more, he offered to double my fee that is certainly not normal for Charles. It is probably not my place to say, but the whole operation appears to have been rushed I was inadvertently involved in an

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incident where a young man was killed and I heard rumours that one of
the original finders of the item lost his life in a bungled kidnapping."
The Collector was shocked to hear what Delancey was telling him. His
view of his caller had moderated and he spoke to her in a softer tone.
"Benson was supposed to keep me informed at every stage and this is
the first I have heard of the unfortunate events you are describing loss
of life was not what I was expecting I think you may be right to be
concerned about Benson.
Tell me Ms Parkes, I am right to assume you have the package with
you at the moment?"
"Yes, except for when I put it in the hotel safe, it has not left my side.
In fact apart from the news broadcast which alarmed me, my part of the
operation has gone according to plan so far but I don't want to take the
risk of leading anyone to you if I am under surveillance I have to say
that I really think it is very unlikely that I am, but the possibility is
there."
"I believe you were right to call me. Please give me your number and I
will contact you with further instructions when I decide what I want you
to do."
Delancey read out the number of her mobile phone.
"I would prefer if you did not use my number again unless absolutely
necessary. Where are you at present Ms Parkes?"
"I am in a small town called err Ma-ta-ma-ta, I was intending to
drive on to Taupo and stay the night at a motel."
"Very well, Ms Parkes, I suggest you do that, but please come no further south than the Lake for the moment. I would like to keep some distance between us until I am confident of my security I want to make
some calls and then I will probably send someone to collect the package
from you. I may prefer to wait a day or two and see if there is any sign
that you are under surveillance. In any case I will be in touch with you
again quite soon."
The collector ended the call. He views about Benson were being confirmed. It was time he cut the man loose before anything more went seriously wrong. Benson had betrayed the first principal of security by giving out his insecure phone number; the number would need to be
changed at the earliest opportunity. He was however impressed by the
young American woman and felt reassured by her good sense and confident in her abilities. He was a quick judge of character and felt that Ms
Parkes was a contact to be cultivated.

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Delancey continued her journey she was now uncertain whether she
had done the right thing in calling the Collector but he seemed more in
control of things than Benson was at present. But had it been a betrayal?
It was dark before she pulled into the Lake View Motel and checked in
as Joanna Brown. It was a modestly sized establishment but had no safe
which meant that the package would have to stay close to her at all
times. There was a restaurant within walking distance. Her unit was
modern, well equipped with a kitchen, a comfortable sitting room and a
double bedroom. There was even a spa which Delancey was just preparing to take advantage of when her mobile rang.
"Ms Parkes, Just a few more words about your delivery."
"Yes go ahead."
"Tell me, has Benson paid you for your services yet?"
"No, he works on cash on delivery basis, at least with me."
"I intend dropping Benson from my employment, which means he
may not honour his commitment to you."
Delancey cursed under her breath.
"Please do not be alarmed, I intend paying you handsomely for your
services Ms Parkes, I have been impressed with your professionalism
and would like to add you to my list of preferred contacts we can discuss what that means at a later date when the dust has settled from the
current transaction. I can tell you that it will be to your benefit."
"Well that could suit me very well indeed." Delancey was relieved.
"I have made some inquiries since you called me earlier and have been
able to confirm what you told me. The facts, as you told them, have
proved to be true. I think I can confide in you that I have also been concerned recently by Benson; it is unfortunate because he has been useful
to me in the past.
"I feel much the same, recently he has become quite hyped up for some
reason and I lost confidence in him."
"Yes Now one more thing, what Motel are you staying at?"
Delancey told him the address.
"Good please stay there for another day or so and watch for signs of
well I don't need to tell you your job, just make sure you are not being
followed. I will call you again and them someone will pick up the package from you."
"That sounds straight forward. It has been good to speak to you Mr?"
"It is better if you don't know my name Ms Parkes; I will speak to you
soon."
The phone went dead.

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Delancey decided to postpone her spa and instead, with her shoulder
bag clutched tightly under her arm, she took the short walk to the restaurant. It was time to smother the taste of the burger with some real
food.
There was a signal from the box at 20:33 New Zealand time. No one
was listening.

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Chapter

18

Benson received the reply to his request to speed up his payment with a
growing sense of panic. His fortune was within reach, he could almost
taste it, but if something went wrong he could lose it all. He had lied to
Delancey when he told her that the security forces had abandoned the
search. The truth was he had no idea what they were doing. That was his
problem. If he had more information then a rational decision could be
easily made.
His best chance of getting his money may well be to do nothing and let
the delivery proceed as had been organized. But if the World's security
forces were poised to strike on Delancey, or worse, trace the Collector
through her, then his best course of action would be to press for the payment as soon as possible. Before the shit hit the fan. Benson thought that
even a part payment in advance would be better than watching the
whole deal turn to dust. Surely a part payment would not be an unreasonable request to put to the Collector. However the reply he had received from him indicated that the Collector was starting to show signs
of annoyance.
Benson spent the day in his office replying to messages and smoothing
the flow of other deals he was involved with. None of his other deals
were important if the Collector paid what he had promised. But that egg
still remained unhatched.
His mind played over his options and all the time he was acutely
aware of the hours slipping by. As the day progressed, instead of solving
his dilemma, he became increasingly wound up. He was starting to feel
anger towards the others involved. Why had Delancey fouled up? Why
would the Collector not pay him his fee?
By the end of the day he was no closer to a decision. He bundled his
papers together into his brief case and went directly to a steak house for
his dinner. He ate a large steak and potatoes, alone as he often did, and
had more Scotch on the rocks than was good for him. The alcohol could
not soften the pain of his indecision and certainly did not help him think

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clearly. Nevertheless he made his way to the bar and ordered another
double.
Across the room he saw an attractive woman, he recognized her as a
hooker he had from time to time passed an evening with. She had
been watching him for some time. When he finally made eye contact
with her, she picked up her glass and came and sat next to him.
"Hello Charles, how are you." She said as she helped herself from the
bowl of peanuts.
"Money troubles." He said.
"I wish I had your money troubles, Honey. Is there anything I can do
to make you feel better?" She crossed and then uncrossed her legs which
sent a well understood signal.
"Can I get you a refill?"
"Mm, thanks." She drained her glass and nodded to the barman for the
same again.
Benson looked at the woman, she called herself Melanie. Benson had
no idea if that was her real name, but she had certainly been able to lift
his spirits in the past. Sex had been the last thing on his mind, but now
he was faced with the proposition he felt the twitch of anticipation. He
smiled at her as she took her drink.
"Anything I can do for you?" She repeated.
"Maybe "
"You want to take me back to your apartment? I could spend the
night if you like soothe those troubles away." He found in her soft
voice a compelling argument.
They left arm in arm walking into the New York night. Two lost souls.
A siren blared angrily in the distance. The neon dazzled across the warm
night air.
Whether it was the drink or just his preoccupied mood, Benson found
himself unable to perform. Melanie maintained her professional composure; her interest was in the money. Charles paid her for the full overnight
stay despite his lack of satisfaction. As Melanie left she kissed him and
said:
"Sorry about tonight Charles the next time is on the house."
He tried to sleep but only managed to doze. He found himself fully
awake again at 6 am. There was so much money riding on this, he
needed to get a bite of the cherry while he could.
Stretched before him he could see the possible outcomes, if he didn't
act soon, time would run out. Benson was not the sort of guy to leave
things in the hands of fate. He was fundamentally a man of action, he

123

could suddenly see that clearly now. It seemed to him that pressing on
with trying to convince the Collector to pay something up front was
what he had to do. He knew this would be likely to incur the Collector's
wrath, but on the other side of the coin, he knew how much the Collector
wanted the box. That irrational desire for collectables was a tool that
Benson had at his disposal.
In the end he decided to contact the man directly by phone and press
his case. In New Zealand it was already 10 pm as he made the call. Benson calculated that there was little to be lost by a direct approach.
His calculation was seriously in error.
"It's Charles Benson, Look I can see your point about needing the
package in your hands before transferring my fee, but I have up front expenses, all my agents, and there have been a large number involved in
this job, have been paid up front. Frankly I'm in need of the money."
The collector was exasperated, another call on his private line. The decision he had made regarding Benson was confirmed as being the correct
one. The man was now clearly lying about his need for cash. The Collector knew that Benson was already more than comfortably well off. He
knew because he had largely been Benson's benefactor. He knew very
well how much he had paid him in the past.
"I won't argue with you, Benson I will transfer what I owe you electronically within the hour."
The Collector ended the call; he had no wish to speak to the man any
further.
Benson was staggered that the Collector had agreed so easily, he had
expected to need all of his best negotiating skills to change his mind.
When he had worn the Collector down he would finally accept a part
payment until the delivery was completed. Thus leaving the Collector
feeling he had won the argument.
But the money was now only a few key-strokes away. Once he had the
money in his account, if anything went wrong; if Delancey were being
followed, then he would be long gone his life of luxury beckoned.
Now that his problem had been resolved, Benson found the sleep he
had missed tugged at his eyes and he went back to bed and slept until
nine.
It was a sunny morning and the day looked promising to Benson. He
had the excited expectation of checking his account and seeing the newly
deposited sum. An excitement he allowed to linger by delaying checking
his account.

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To celebrate he had a Buck's Fizz, Champagne and orange juice. It

tasted fine on his tongue so he had another with his plate of waffles and
fat back bacon that he piled high on his plate. The desire to confirm his
new found wealth finally got the better of him and he opened up his
notebook computer and entered the password for his Cayman's account.
There it was, a transfer made just two hours ago from Dominion Finance one of the Collector's many companies.
Benson's jaw dropped, the sum was not twenty million but just twenty
dollars! This was either a cruel joke or simply an error, a few noughts,
quite a few, had been left off the figure.
With trembling hands he made another call to New Zealand.
The Collector had been expecting the call and was easily roused from
his sleep.
"There is no mistake Benson, I promised I would pay what I owed you.
I think twenty bucks is pretty generous for what you have delivered.
Frankly, I intend having no further dealings with you Benson. You knew
the conditions of our association absolute secrecy, and yet I find you
have been calling me on my insecure line with talk of our transactions.
Not only that but you have given my number to others in your employ
contrary to my explicit instructions."
"You can't do this you bastard, I earned that money, the God-Damned
box is almost in your hands, another few hours and the transaction will
be complete. I trusted you "
"And I trusted you Benson, but you have proved that my trust has
been misplaced."
Benson was gripped by anger and like a spoilt child spat out a threat:
"I think you are forgetting that I know too much about your little collection, I know names, places, items, the who's and the where's. I could
damn it, I will put you down where you belong unless you honour your
deal with me and transfer that money."
The collector took a deep breath and adopted a more conciliatory tone
with Benson. He needed to take the fire out of Benson's anger. The man
was right he did know too much.
"There is no point in bringing me down Charles. If you do that you
will be in the frame as much as I am. I am not going to pay you for the
deal which has been bungled good God Charles there have been two
people killed in the operation that you were supposed to be running.
Military intelligence over half the world have been on alert and now it
looks as if I will have to complete the delivery myself."

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"I warn you Mr Collector I'll happily go down myself just to see you
fry "
"Get a grip man. If you let me finish I was going to offer you a compromise. Charles are you willing to listen to reason?"
"Yes all right go on "
"As I said, I am not willing to pay you for the job, but I think despite
your unfortunate threats, that I can come up with a severance package
you have earned that."
Benson could see that he had blown his chances, losing his temper was
a failing that had cost him a lot in the past and now his biggest pay day
of all was gone. The offer of severance was at least something. Benson
knew that his threats were empty; he had no wish to go down with the
Collector's ship. His anger was replaced by a desire to salvage what he
could.
"What sort of package do you have in mind?"
"If you leave it with me, I will organize something which I guarantee
will let you live as a wealthy man for the rest of your life. You appreciate; it's getting late here in New Zealand. Give me some time to put
something together."
It was a straw that Benson was now willing to clutch.
"Very well I'll wait to hear from you."
The conversation was over. Both men had elevated blood pressure
from the exchange; neither felt comfortable with the outcome. It was a
truce; some space to breathe.
As soon as the call was over, the Collector immediately called another
number, one he had hoped he would never need to use.
"It's me, you remember the undertaking we discussed."
"Yes indeed."
"Well I'm afraid I'm going to need you to complete."
There was a short silence on the line then:
"You are absolutely sure about this?"
"Yes."
"Any special conditions, do you want it to look like an accident, or a
warning to others?"
"I want him to know who and why, but no need to make him suffer
as soon as possible."
"Consider it done."
The call was ended.
A stillness fell over Shadow fall like the prescience of a distant eagle's
scream before the strike.

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Chapter

19

Delancey had slept with the box under her mattress. It made an uncomfortable lump but at least it was secure. To get to it, a thief would need to
disturb her out of her sleep. Another signal had been sent by the box
during the night and another one at 7:38 as Delancey showered.
The signals went unmonitored.
Delancey had to wait for instructions but had no intention of remaining locked in her motel all day. She had the car and despite a grey morning that promised rain, she would do a little sightseeing. She was in an
ideal spot for that. The motel had brochures of tourist activities that
could be found at Taupo. Delancey still wished to keep her profile low
and chose not to go where there might be too many crowds.
The Collector had already arranged for his pilot David Peterson to
complete the delivery of the package to Shadow fall. He had not yet told
Delancey what his plans were but would call her in plenty of time.
It was in the vicinity of 800 Km from Queenstown to Taupo. A direct
flight was outside the 407's 600Km range and a refuelling stop was required at Nelson. Just before the crossing of Cook Straight which separated the two Islands. Peterson expected to land at Taupo around four
thirty in the afternoon. His instructions were to call when he had arrived
and wait at the airfield for an intermediary who would collect the package from Ms Parkes and bring it to the airfield. Peterson simply had to
fly back, refuelling again at Nelson. The delivery would be complete. It
would be a long day for the pilot; he did not expect to be back home before the early hours of the morning.
The Collector had calculated that by using an intermediary and then
the helicopter, the chance of being traced back to Shadow Fall was slim.
He was keen to take delivery as soon as possible.
***
Brad was fifteen; he had his provisional driving licence but no bike. It
was the thing he wanted most in the world. He had studied hard all year
and done well at school. His Mum had told him that if he did well, then
there might be the possibility of a motorcycle in his future. But even after

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bringing home his much improved school results, nothing was said. That
was months ago and although he had not given up all hope, the expectation was starting to fade.
He lay on his bed looking at a spider walk across the newly painted
white ceiling. There was nothing to do on this cold Saturday morning so
he snuggled down under his duvet. The spider was heading towards his
Katy Perry poster which he had taped to his wall so that he could see it
from his bed. The colours of the wallpaper clashed with his poster. He
thought he might be able to convince his Mum to let him paint over the
flowery design in a more subtle tone. His mind wandered as he slipped
in and out of sleep, it had been a while since he had seen Rena his girlfriend, maybe he would walk out to her place later. As he lay watching
the spider he could hear the mynah birds squabbling on the tin roof over
his bedroom. Brad felt a rumble in his stomach; he could do with some
breakfast and raised himself up on one elbow as a tentative first step to
getting up. The spider had reached Katy's face and was making rapid
progress down her neck towards her cleavage. Katy was smiling at him
as she always did. Her eyes seemed to follow him as his feet touched
down on the ice cold varnished wooden floor.
He heard the distant note of a bike heading up the road as he pulled
on his baggy cargo pants and hooded sweatshirt. Brad looked out of the
wooden framed window to catch a glimpse of the bike but it was still
miles away. He would need new curtains to match the paint, he thought
or better still some blinds like he had seen at the Warehouse. The bike
was heading his way getting closer. Now he could see it in the distance,
His breath fogging the window as he pressed his nose up close. He
thought it was a Suzuki GN 125 the sort of bike that was near the top of
his extensive wish list. As he watched, the bike slowed and pulled up at
his gate.
"Get down here Brad, there's something that might interest you."
His Mum called him from downstairs; her voice was like a siren song,
full of promise. Brad did not need telling twice, his hopes were high. He
pulled his trainers on over bare feet and took the stairs two at a time
jumping the last three and landing with a thump that rattled the old vase
that balanced precariously on the hall stand.
The front door was wide open and there was his uncle Steve standing
with a helmet under his arm grinning at him. The watery morning light
sparkled on the red tank of the magnificent Suzuki. It was all Brad could
see, his focus was only on one thing: a GN 125 with red paintwork. He
turned to his Mum with an expectant look.

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"Yea, it's for you boy, now don't go getting into trouble with that or
it'll be back to the shop before you can spin round."
"Wow Cool thanks mum." He could not contain his excitement
and rushed up to his Uncle who ruffled his hair and handed the helmet
to him.
"She's fast mate, hit 160K down by Acacia Bay!" He laughed at the
exaggeration.
"Yea right " Brad had spent hours studying bike specifications and
new what every 125 on the market could do.
"Go ahead give a try, take it easy at first "
Brad had ridden his mate's 50cc scooter and the battered 250 farm bike
where he worked in the Christmas holidays. He looked at his Mum as if
asking for her approval.
"Go on boy, didn't buy it to just look at."
He pulled on his helmet and gingerly started the engine. It sounded
smooth as he revved it up. He clicked into gear and gently let out the
clutch. The bike pulled well, much more powerful that his mate's scooter. Soon he was up to speed and cruised up and down the deserted Mapara road. He went about a couple of kilometres each way, getting used
to the feel. He sent the mynah bids scattering as he rode fast at the road
kill they were pecking at. The birds waited until the last minute before
rising into the grey sky with flapping wings like a salute to the new king
of the road. It was without doubt the best present Brad had ever been
given.
He was finally forced to stop as his Mum waved him down from one
of his laps to come in for his breakfast.
Uncle Steve was still there drinking strong sweet tea from a big brown
mug.
"How was that, young fella got the hang of the gears yet?"
"Yes, no problem It's wicked awesome."
Brad was a man of few words.
***
Delancey pulled out a map that came in the Corolla's glove box. She
was in tourist mode for today; at least until she got a call with more instructions. She thought she could drive around the Lake; take in the
sights. Her only concern was getting out of mobile phone range. Out
here she guessed the signal could drop off quickly and the last thing she
needed was to miss the call from the Collector.
She replaced the box in her shoulder bag where it had spent most of its
time since arriving in New Zealand. Delancey kept a tight grip on the

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bag as she walked to the car but there was no one else around. First she
would take a look at the Town of Taupo which sat on the North eastern
point of the lake. The view across the lake, on a clear day, was of snowcapped Mount Ruapehu which was both an active volcano and also the
home to the major ski field in the North Island. An interesting mix of fire
and ice. Today the clouds hung low and there was the scent of rain in the
air. The view across the lake was of featureless grey mist.
There were some decent shops at the town and she could do with expanding her small wardrobe. She really needed a jacket and more underwear. Just a cheap padded nylon jacked would be adequate. One of the
ski jackets she had seen the tourists wearing or something similar. Delancey planned that she would then take a break for coffee if she could find
a suitable place before embarking on her leisurely sightseeing drive. All
she really needed was a handsome companion to share her time with
one day.
***
Brad finished his toast and scrambled eggs and headed for the door.
"I'm off to show Rena my bike Mum "
His mother called back from the laundry:
"Don't you two get up to mischief, I know what that girl's like, she can
twist you round her little finger. That girl's more trouble than a bag full
of monkeys."
"Yeah, no worries "
Rena lived just ten minutes away by Suzuki power.
"Wow Is that yours little dude? It's the one you wanted isn't it?"
"Yep You want to go for a ride, I got a spare helmet."
"OK choice. Let me get a jacket."
Rena was almost a year younger than Brad; they had known each other since they were little kids. Rena had grown up faster than Brad, she
now saw him as too young to be her boyfriend but he was still a mate,
she still liked his cheeky laugh and innocence. Especially she liked the
way she could get him to do anything she wanted. She knew that if she
pulled the right strings, Brad would jump just like the marionette she
had when she was still a kid. Now she also liked his bike, there were
possibilities there. Maybe she would have to rethink whether he was too
young for her.
They rode up and down the road for a while; Rena loved the feel of the
cold morning air on her face as the bike cut into the wind. She leaned
forward and shouted in his ear:
"Let's go down to Lake Terrace and get a Coke."

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"OK, are you buying?"

"Ha, you're joking bro'." she laughed.
Brad parked his bike on the lake-front side of the road. He nodded to
the caf across the road. "Are you coming in?"
"No I need a smoke, I'll stay outside, you can get me a diet Coke if you
want to keep me happy." She playfully punched Brad's arm. They
walked across the road together. Rena watched him enter the caf and go
up to the counter. She pulled out her packet of cigarettes. There were just
three left and she had no money." She felt in her pocket there was her
lighter and the craft knife she always carried with her. She lit her cigarette and looked in through the door at Brad and the other customers.
One customer caught her attention, a small woman clutching her bag as
her life depended on it. She looked like a teacher; Rena did not like
teachers, at least not most of them.
"Hey, out of here with that smoke " The waitress wagged a disapproving finger at Rena who responded with a single finger salute.
Rena had had no intention of going in there in the first place. The waitress shook her head and laughed to herself. "Teenagers "
When Brad came out he had two cans of drink. He handed Rena her
Diet Coke.
"Thanks man I owe you What have you got ? L and P. Man that's
slack too sweet."
She pulled another drag from her cigarette and held the smoke in her
lungs. She had seen the films at school about smoking, she knew the
facts, but her Mum and sisters all smoked. Anyway it made her feel cool,
grown up, sexy.
"Lemon and Paeroa is Kiwi, better than your American shit that
stuff rots your teeth man."
"Oh yes, take a look at the label and see who makes your L & P dude."
Brad read "made by the Coca Cola Corporation." on the side of the can.
"Oh man you can't believe nothing any more."
They sat drinking from their cans. Rena greedily finished her cigarette
as if it was a last meal and then said in a matter of fact voice:
"Brad, want to make some cash?"
"I suppose what are you talking about?"
"Just walk over to your Bike and start the motor and wait. When I
jump on, gun it and take off up Rifle Range road OK?"
"I don't want to get into trouble Rena, what are you going to do?"
"Well if you're still just a big kid forget it; I thought you might have
grown some balls by now."

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"OK I'll show you if I'm a kid or not." He gave her a slightly nervous
grin and swaggered across to his bike, put on his helmet and started the
engine and let it idle as if he was on the starting grid waiting for the flag
to fall.
Delancey finished her coffee, it had been strong and full of flavour, she
was tempted to have a second but her drive beckoned. She stood and
walked to the door. Across the road she could see her car parked just behind a skinny boy on a motorcycle who appeared to waiting for
someone.
She put her purse in the inside pocket of her newly purchased ski jacket and zipped it up. She gripped the shoulder bag tightly; all it contained
was the small insignificant looking package. A small package which had
already cost two lives and a mountain of money.
As she left the caf and started towards the Corolla she felt a push
from behind, which put her off balance, and then a tug on the bag as
Rena sliced through the strap with her razor sharp knife. Delancey could
feel the bag being pulled from her grip, there was nothing she could do
the strap just slipped through her fingers.
Rena leaped on the back of the Suzuki.
"Go get out of here "
Brad wound open the throttle of his bike and it launched forward. He
was almost collected by a Range Rover that was coming along the Terrace, but managed to swerve out of danger and accelerated up Riffle
Range and towards the Taupo Bypass road. Rena clung on behind and
let out a whoop of triumph just as a gentle rain started to fall.
"Wicked! dude wicked "

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Chapter

20

Charles Benson wished he had not eaten such a large breakfast. It sat
heavily behind his breastbone. The day which had promised so much
had turned to ashes. And now his guts were giving him grief. He
chewed antacids as he took the elevator up to his Manhattan office. He
had not intended going in today maybe never again if his deal had
gone according to plan. But now the other deals he had bubbling away
had suddenly become more important. It looked as if he had lost any
chance of more business with the Collector and now he had to make
money wherever he could. He was angry, angry with the world, angry
with the Collector, angry with himself. His fellow elevator passengers
just saw a man with a depressed look on his face.
Benson made a few calls, stirred up the glowing embers of deals which
he had let slip when he thought he hadn't needed them. He did this
more in desperation than in hope, but he had come back from lower than
this before, he could do it again. He had just started chewing on his fifth
antacid when his secretary buzzed him on the intercom.
"Mr Benson, there is a Miss Penfold to see you."
"Do I have an appointment with her; the name doesn't ring a bell?'
"No, Sir, apparently she has a proposition for you, and hoped you
could spare her some of your time."
Benson was not in the mood for time wasters and was on the point of
telling his secretary to get rid of her, when he changed his mind there
could be no harm in seeing what she wanted. He was in no position to
turn away opportunities.
"Tell her she can have five minutes."
Benson's door opened and a tall and attractive woman came in and sat
in the soft leather chair which Benson offered her.
"Mr Benson, My name is Anne Penfold. A contact I have, actually a
good friend, suggested that you could be the correct person to help me. I
understand that you are an entrepreneur." She looked at him, her bright
eyes seeking confirmation.

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"I am a business man, Miss Penfold, and I certainly like to think that
entrepreneurship has played a significant part in my success. In what
way can I help you?"
Anne Penfold was quite tall, five-ten in her stocking feet. She had sleek
black hair which fell halfway down her back, a slim but curving feminine
body and an enchanting smile that put people at their ease. She was
dressed in a way which suggested that she was wealthy; wealth that
stretched back through the generations. Tasteful, well cut clothing completely lacking in any flamboyance and extravagance that the nouveau
rich might prefer. Whatever she wanted, Benson detected a serious player. His antennae were suddenly on high alert.
"Until I get to know you a little better Mr Benson, I feel it would be
preferable to just give you a general idea of what I need. The man, or indeed woman, I need will have to be a successful business person in their
own right, and I will need to trust them implicitly."
"Well I am happy to let you get to know me, I am sure you will be satisfied with what you discover. But just give me an outline of what you
need."
"Mr Benson, my family has rather a large fortune which is distributed
across a number of rather disparate business enterprises. Recently we
lost my Father who had been keeping an overview on them. We now
find ourselves somewhat rudderless. What I need Mr Benson is a man
who can take charge. We envisage a re-energizing and a rationalization
of our businesses under a single Corporation to liberate the wealth
which sadly has not been allowed to flourish under my dear Father's baton. Does that give you an idea?"
"Indeed it does I must say that my own business experience would
lend itself well to what you need. You have certainly sparked my interest. Could I ask for the names of some of the businesses that your family own?"
"You would certainly know the names of many of them, but I prefer to
keep such details for the one who is successful in convincing me that
they are suitable. My family has preferred not to associate its own name
with the companies it owns; there has been a somewhat snobbish view of
the tawdry nature of the business world in the past. I feel that with the
passing of the generations, that perception is likely to change. We see opportunities which we wish to exploit I'm sorry I have already said
more than I had intended so early in our acquaintance."
"So where do we go from here Miss Penfold?"

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"I wonder if you would do me the honour of taking a picnic lunch

with me so that I can get to know you a little better. I have taken the
liberty of arranging a hamper which sits, as we speak, in the trunk of my
car."
Benson was bowled over by the quaintness of the suggestion, but there
was not a moment of doubt in his mind that he would agree to the unusual suggestion.
They took the elevator down to the ground floor, looking straight
ahead and carefully avoiding eye contact. They walked together a short
distance along West 75th bathed in the early afternoon Sun. They had to
dodge a woman who had two poodles on leads which seemed intent on
tangling themselves with any other pedestrians who came close.
"Do you like dogs, Mt Benson?"
"Yes, but I don't own one apartment life is not suitable."
"Oh yes We have mostly Labradors on our Estate."
She said Estate as if everyone had such a thing.
"That's my car, the burgundy one Charles may I call you Charles?"
"Oh of course, I would be an honour."
Benson saw her car, it was a Bentley. Not one of the new ones much
loved by rappers and air headed pop stars. This was an immaculate seventies car, probably been in the family since before Anne was born, Benson thought. It spoke of a level of wealth that was beyond the need to
demonstrate it by owning the latest frippery that came on the market. It
spoke of a self-confident family, a family that could restore his lost
wealth.
Anne opened the trunk and revealed an old style wicker picnic
hamper. There was a wide brimmed straw sun hat with ribbons, quite
old fashioned Benson thought but delightful as Anne secured it on her
head. The hat seemed to complement the old world, old money, charm
that was seeping into his afternoon.
"Would you mind?" She asked pointing to the hamper while taking a
large tartan rug in her arms.
"Not at all." Benson replied and lifted the surprisingly heavy basket
from the depths of the Bentley's trunk. He tried not to grunt with the
effort.
"Shall we go over there?' Anne pointed to a spot on the newly mown
grass by some trees. The towering office buildings of the business district
loomed in the distance. "I do so love the Park in summer, don't you
Charles."

135

"Yes, but you tend to take it for granted when it's there just outside the
office building every day Besides." He added as a tentative start on his
own self-promotion. "I find I spend a lot of hours absorbed in my business interests, I hardly notice the Park."
"Oh I hope you are not too busy to consider what I am offering
Charles."
"No, no, don't misunderstand me; I will be more than able to devote
myself to your business if you give me the opportunity."
Anne spread the rug out and sat down with her legs underneath her.
She started unpacking the contents of the hamper and spread it before
them. It was a feast: Smoked salmon, pate, cold meats, salad, cheeses and
a strawberry tart. There were china plates and silver cutlery. She removed a bottle of Bollinger from an ice filled silver container and
handed it to Charles for him to uncork.
"Would you mind, I find a man is far better suited to that than I am."
Benson smiled as he took the bottle, he could not believe she was flirting with him; perhaps it was just her manner. Anne placed Champagne
flutes ready to take the expected foaming nectar.
"Cheers, here's to a a good lunch. I do hope you enjoy it Charles."
They chinked glasses and let the bubbles dance over their tongues.
"I'm sure I will enjoy this, you have gone to such an effort." Benson
added.
"Well I can't take credit for more than making the selection; our kitchen staff have been with the family for years and know how to make
everything perfect."
Benson was impressed; this delightful woman could be his entry into
the same world that she inhabited.
Anne piled a plate up with the delicacies she had brought and handed
it to her guest. She took a smaller helping herself. Touching his arm to
emphasise her words she asked:
"Now Charles, tell me your life history while we eat."
He was not quite prepared for that, there was much in his past which
Miss Penfold should not discover. He managed to weave together a mixture of half-truths and exaggerations peppered with a few outright lies
which he felt would be suitably impressive and what he thought she
wanted to hear.
"Well I'll keep it short after completing my Masters in Business
Studies at Harvard; I started a small publishing business. After a few
years that became successful and I was able to sell it at a handsome
profit and put the money into Real Estate and then an Export company.

136

Things flourished quite well under my stewardship so I started a business consultancy, exploiting my entrepreneurial techniques. Finally I added an agency which locates opportunities which others can exploit.
Ideas and so on which take more capital than I wish to risk. In a nutshell
that is where you find me today."
"Mm I see you have concentrated on your business life. What about
your private life Charles do you have a family?"
"Sadly, I found that being so driven by growing my businesses, there
was little time left for that."
"That seems a shame Charles; my own family is the cornerstone of my
life. Now can I tempt you with some strawberry tart, it was made by a
French Patisserie near my home and I can guarantee you will never have
tasted anything quite so exquisite."
Anne drained the remaining Bollinger into Charles' glass.
The afternoon was warm and in the Park the noise of traffic was
muted, there was the scent of new mown grass, redolent with nostalgia
for youthful, barefoot summer days.
Charles was enjoying his lunch; it was the first civilised meal he had
eaten in years. He found himself attracted to the young woman who was
probing his past in such an unusual and pleasant way.
He took a second piece of the tart and then some palate cleansing
cheese. Anne finally offered a glass of fine old French Cognac. By now he
was satiated and in a state bordering on euphoria. The alcohol had enhanced the meal and his earlier depressed mood had evaporated. He
was content to listen to Anne as she spoke softly to him.
"May I now tell you a brief story Charles?"
"Please do "
Anne poured more Cognac into his glass and began.
"Once there was a man, born into poverty, who worked hard. He educated himself and slowly built up a business much like you did
Charles. He became wealthy and took risks with his money. They mostly
paid off, but he learned quickly from the few that failed. His area was
banking; he took full advantage of the opportunities that that the free
market and globalization had to offer. He invested with great acuity and
drove outrageous but ultimately successful deals. He could see however
that the financial world was rushing headlong over a cliff of unacknowledged debt. So he changed tack anticipating and side-stepping the
financial crisis by a year. He shifted his money into a wide range of businesses that he could own without needing to be involved in on a day to

137

day business. As an ordinary investor might buy shares in a company,

this man bought whole companies."
Charles was reclining on the grass, the warm afternoon sun adding to
his feeling of well-being. He gazed up into the infinity of the blue sky,
listening to Anne's story. He watched a bird high above circling, riding
the thermals risings from the sky scrapers. Could that be an eagle soaring high above them? Surely not, not in the city. The woman continued
her story.
"He found that although his wealth grew larger and larger, he had lost
satisfaction with life, there was no challenge so he started collecting rare
and unusual items."
Charles was suddenly dragged from his reverie. This was a description of someone he knew only too well. He sat up suddenly.
"What is this?"
"Let me finish Charles, the story is almost over. This man had a handful of others working for him of whom he demanded loyalty and discretion. He made it clear that failure to be discrete would result in an unfortunate outcome. Charles I am here to deliver that man's last message
for you the unfortunate outcome."
Benson could hardly take in what he was hearing. He got unsteadily to
his feet.
"You calculating whore, this has all been a lie!" He spat the words at
her like venom. "Are you here to kill me?"
"Yes Charles."
In panic Benson took off running at the fastest speed his less than athletic frame could manage.
Anne started to clear away her picnic things.
Benson had gone maybe a hundred yards when a single muffled shot
from a high velocity sniper rifle echoed round the canyon of tall buildings. For someone listening for it, the sound could barely be heard over
the distant hum of traffic.
Benson fell, the remaining half of his head oozed blood for a few
seconds onto the new mown grass.
Anne walked slowly away swinging her hamper. Her hat ribbons trailing behind her danced in the gentle breeze. It had been a nice picnic.

138

Chapter

21

Delancey watched as the motorcycle disappeared in the distance. The

box had gone. Despite all her careful planning, despite bringing it all the
way from London, despite two lives being lost, a couple of kids had
managed to pull it from her grasp so easily. It would have been funny if
it was not so tragic. The Kids clearly had no idea what they had in the
bag, it was just a chance snatch and grab, they were after just a few
dollars
There was no time for self-pity, she had to recover the box and she had
to do so quickly. Delancey accelerated the Corolla down the Lake front
and turned up the road that the bike had taken her wheels spinning
through the corner scrabbling for grip. There was no sign of the kids. She
pressed on, driving as fast as she dare. The speed limit in the built up
area was only fifty, which was only thirty miles an hour. She was going
faster than that already and had a dread of being stopped. She was supposed to be keeping a low profile not collecting speeding tickets. As Delancey climbed up the road she thought she had caught a glimpse of the
motorcycle as it disappeared round a bend in the road.
Delancey realized that the two kids would probably not recognize her
car so she could follow them at a safe distance without spooking them
until an opportunity presented itself. She was closer now and could
clearly see the bike being ridden erratically as if by an inexperienced
rider. It turned off the road onto a larger highway; Delancey noted it was
the bypass road. On a faster stretch of road she would easily be able to
keep up with the bike which luckily was not a fast machine. Delancey assumed that the kids would be locals and unlikely to go too far, she relaxed a little as she found keeping pace with the bike to be easy. Up
ahead she could see a roundabout and the bike turned right, she followed at a safe distance. The road led back to the lake and Delancey
watched as the bike stopped and the two passengers got off. She parked
her car a short distance from them and walked in their direction. She had
no plan but the package was too important to let slip through her hands
at this late stage. Maybe she could bargain for its return.

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The girl was looking though the bag. There was just one thing inside, a
wrapped parcel. Rena was unimpressed.
"Shit man, I thought there would be a purse or wallet at least, what a
stink."
"Rena, you're totally mental, we could have been caught, and for
what? let me look what you've got."
A voice shouted from behind.
"Hey kids "
Rena looked at where the voice had come from.
"Shit dude, it's her come on man lets go."
Delancey shouted after them:
"Let's make a deal " But the two kids were already riding away and
heard nothing.
Delancey realized she had been too hasty in calling out and took off
after the bike once more.
The bike tore up the lake side road past where Delancey had taken her
coffee break and continued up the road at speed. She was gaining on
them as they crossed a bridge and then the bike turned left and after a
short distance left again onto Acacia Bay road. Through the clear arc
made by her windscreen wipers Delancey could see the girl looking behind her and urging the boy to go faster. The going was starting to get
twisty and suddenly she saw the bike rider lose control on the wet road.
The bike slewed one way and then the other and then seemed to pivot
over the front wheel. The passenger was thrown over the bike and
landed on her back but the driver seemed to be caught under the bike as
it skidded a short distance down the road.
Delancey stopped just by the scene of the accident. She could see that
the passenger, the girl, was shaken but not badly hurt. The boy was
pinned under the bike.
"Come on " Delancey said to the girl. "Help me lift the bike off his
legs."
"Get away leave us alone." Rena was waving her knife at Delancey.
"Calm down girl, we need to take care of your friend; I'm not going to
hurt you Put that knife down."
Rena backed away, she felt like running but could see Brad was
trapped, he was trying to pull himself from under the bike but it was too
heavy.
"OK, you lift the bike free and get Brad out." Rena was still brandishing the knife in a threatening way.
"Yes, if I can "

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Delancey knelt down beside the boy.

"Hello Brad, I'm Delancey, looks like you've got yourself in a mess.
Does it hurt much?'
"Not too bad, I can't get my legs free "
"OK don't worry "
Delancey could see that the accident was not as bad as she had first
feared. She could see that the bike would lift off without causing any
harm to the boy.
She was not a strong woman and lifted from the saddle but found it
too heavy.
"A little help would be good." She called to the girl.
"Come on Rena I'm trapped."
Brad's call for help jolted Rena back to her senses and she ran over and
helped Delancey lift the bike free.
"Don't move, just for a minute Brad, let's make sure you don't have
any serious injuries."
"OK " Brad lay still. The enormity of what had happened braking
over him like a tsunami.
"My bike "He sobbed.
Delancey checked Brad for broken bones but found nothing. His skin
was badly scraped along his legs and he would have some impressive
bruising and aches and pains for a week or so, but there was nothing
major.
Delancey turned to Rena.
"How are you Rena, any pain?'
"Get back "
She had the knife again and was making threatening motions with it.
"Look, all I want is my parcel, honey. It's not worth anything but it
does have a lot of sentimental value to me."
"What is it?"
"Look I'll buy the package back from you, can we do a deal?"
Rena wondered what could be in the package. The woman seemed
very keen to get it back maybe drugs that could be worth a lot of
cash.
"Tell me what's in the parcel first." Rena was insistent.
Brad was losing it with Rena
"Man give her the parcel back, can't you see she's helped us "
"I said you had no balls Brad." Rena looked at the woman.
"Tell me first, then we can make a deal."

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"OK, I said it has sentimental value to me I'll tell you "Delancey's

voice faltered as she explained how important the package was to her.
"I came to New Zealand to marry this guy I had fallen in love with, but
he was killed in an accident and the parcel is all I left of him It's his
ashes." She wiped her eyes of imaginary tears and blew her nose.
"Please Rena what if it was your man." Delancey was convincing.
"Oh shit Rena give the lady her parcel, have you got no heart."
"Give me a hundred bucks " Rena held out her hand.
Delancey had won.
"OK I'll give you a hundred for my dead lover." She wiped her eyes
again, opened her purse and took out the notes. Rena dropped the bag;
she felt it was gross now she knew what it was. She would never have
kept it. But it didn't stop her taking the money.
Delancey drove off leaving the kids to come to terms with their own
problems, she had decided to go straight back to the motel. There had
been enough sightseeing for one day. On the way back she stopped at a
convenience store and bought a filled roll for her lunch and a packet of
safety pins.
She dropped the latch on the motel room door and switched on the
kettle to make a cup of instant coffee.
In hindsight the incident had been amusing, but only now that she had
recovered the package. She tried not to think of the consequences if the
box had been lost forever.
There were complimentary sachets of coffee provided and Delancey
ripped one open and poured the contents into a glass mug just as her
phone rang.
"Have you got a pen and paper?"
"Just a minute " Delancey searched for paper and found a pad by the
motel phone.
"Yes go ahead "
She was given some instructions and the name of a place to go to make
the hand over. There was also a code phrase for the contact.
Very cold war, she thought as she closed her phone and finished making her coffee.
***
David Peterson had already completed the helicopter refuel and was
now well on this way up the North island. The flight was on schedule
and he should land before four thirty with no problems. David had arranged for a late refuelling in Nelson on the way back. He expected that
it would be well after nine in the evening by the time he was back there;

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it would all depend on how long he had to wait for the package to arrive
at the Taupo airfield.
Delancey's instructions were to drive to Turangi, the next town just
beyond the Southern tip of the lake. It was an easy three quarters of an
hour drive and she had to be there by five to make the exchange. Because
she did not know the area, Delancey decided to get there with plenty of
time to spare. Now that the plan was made clear to her she was able to
make her own decisions about returning home. After the handover she
would simply drive back to Auckland and get the next available flight to
Los Angeles. She would make a booking at the Sudima Airport Hotel
which she expected to arrive at by early evening.
She packed her possessions and after eating her lunch, checked out of
the motel. The box went inside a sock which was then fastened inside
her ski jacket with safety pins. Under the padding it left no visible bulge
and would not be prey to any more opportunist kids looking for a quick
buck.
Delancey drove down to Turangi and found the rendezvous. She was
early. She stopped at a stationers shop and bought a sheet of gift wrap
and some ribbon. It was still only three and there were two hours to kill.
So she retraced her tracks until she came back to the lake and found a
spot where she could take a walk and enjoy the tranquillity. The rain had
lifted and there were some fleeting blue streaks starting to show in the
sky. It was still cold and Delancey was glad of her jacket. The box made
its presence known by bumping against her ribs as she walked. It was a
reassuring feel. From here Mount Ruapehu was finally revealed to her. It
seemed both serene and ominous, looming up in the distance.
***
Amanda Fellows had worked for the Collector in the past but now she
was married and had a four year old son. She was surprised to get a call
from the man after so many years. She now lived as a farmer's wife in
the Waikato and rarely thought of her former employer any more.
He asked, because he trusted her discretion, and she lived in the vicinity, if she could make herself available to collect a package for him and
deliver it to the Taupo airfield. The Collector applied no pressure to the
request; it was entirely up to her no pressure other than the offer of
five thousand dollars for a discrete afternoon's work.
Amanda knew that what she would be delivering would not be an
everyday package. She knew that if she were caught with it, whatever it
was well it could be a problem. She had no wish to know what the
package was, if she could keep the illusion that it was a completely

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innocent item, then the job would not trouble her conscience. The collector showed no intention of revealing what the package was either which
suited her. The five thousand dollars would come in very useful at the
moment. Once the details of her mission were explained, it appeared a
simple enough thing to do. She lived little more than an hour's drive
away from Turangi and the collection seemed straightforward. She
thought of bargaining the fee up but in the end decided to accept the offer as it had been presented to her. Amanda had always found the Collector to be generous and had treated her well in the past.
Amanda bundled her son James into his safety seat which was buckled
securely in the back seat. Grabbed her bag and set off on the drive. They
stopped at Taupo and as she had promised to James they enjoyed an icecream while looking at the view of the lake. They arrived at Turangi at
the proscribed time and headed for the Countdown supermarket. She
collected a trolley and with James in tow placed in a bunch of bananas
and after searching for a while, a bottle of Lindauer sec sparkling wine.
She then made her way to the meat counter. Amanda saw a petite woman standing looking at the cuts of meat. Her trolley contained only a
single bottle of Lindauer, a bunch of bananas and a small package
wrapped in gift paper tied with a ribbon. Amanda walked up and
parked her trolley next to the petite woman's.
"Have you tried the chicken here?" she asked.
"Yes, I found it rather dry."
They exchanged trolleys and went their separate ways.
Amanda arrived at the airfield just after six thirty. She found David
waiting patiently reading a newspaper and gave him the gift without ceremony. He gave her an envelope containing fifty, one hundred dollar
notes. She also got a small package of her own, also gift wrapped.
Amanda arrived home an hour later ready for the dinner which she
had left simmering in the slow cooker. Andrew greeted her with a hug.
When she opened the package she found two Rolex watches, one for her
and one for her husband.
She even had a bottle of wine to share with Andrew which had cost,
on balance, not very much at all.

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Chapter

22

David lifted off at just before seven in the evening and pointed the nose
of the jet ranger south towards his refuelling stopover.
At 22:48 New Zealand time, the box sent another signal, the sixth of
the day as the intervals between signal bursts became closer. There were
less than six hours left before zero.
In London it was 9:48 in the morning. Pandora was going to her
parent's farm to stay for a month. She needed the peace and quiet to clarify her thoughts. If she were honest she also needed the love she would
find down in Dorset.
The one positive thing she had done since Stewart's funeral was to approach his cousins and make an offer for the Healey. The women had no
Idea what the car was worth. To them it was just an old car that they
were glad to be rid of. Pandora was able to buy it for a surprisingly small
sum. That was fortunate because she had to stretch her savings into an
unknown future.
Pandora was loading up her things ready for the drive when the
phone rang. She was surprised to discover that it was Adrian Bancroft.
Pandora had held him responsible for alerting the criminals to the existence of the box and although she could not blame him directly for
Stewart's death, she linked him to it in a way that she could never forget
or forgive.
"Pandora, I I felt I had to call you. My part in Stewart's demise has
been praying on my mind. I wish to God that I had not said anything.
But it's too late to go back. I know you will never be able to forgive me,
but I just want you to know that I am not heartless and that the affair has
cost me my peace of mind too."
Pandora was not sure how to respond. She felt no sympathy for the
man but also there was no longer any anger. Even her contempt for him
seemed less pointed than at first.
"Well, thank you for saying that. I'm afraid I will always think of you
as a dark shadow over my past, but I can tell from your voice, and that
you bothered to make this difficult call, that you are human after all."

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"Well that glimmer of understanding means a lot to me."

"Adrian, the countdown is nearly over now have you been able to
make any sense of the message?"
"I have come to the realization that the message is probably not decipherable, at least, in any way we can understand. There are patterns
and repeated phrases and so on, but I have been thinking of it in human
terms as a language that we might understand. I believe that I could
have missed the obvious, that another species from a different world
would not necessarily communicate in what we call a language at all. I
have ended up with the view that the signal is simply beyond translating
into a human language."
"How do you mean exactly?"
"Well, let me give you a rather simplified example of what I mean.
How could you translate whale song into English or how could you
translate say the score of Mozart's Requiem into English. Both are coded
messages containing a lot of information but a translation into English is
not possible. It is not even a reasonable question to ask. I believe my attempt to translate the signal will ultimately end in failure. I'm sure there
is a message there but I feel it is meant for those who already understand
the complexity of the symbolism and are in tune with it by their nature."
"That is something to ponder OK Adrian, I will never see you as a
friend, but nor will I be sticking pins in your effigy. I hope you find what
you are looking for one day. I hope you find redemption."
Pandora ended the call. She did not know whether it had eased
Bancroft's conscience but somehow it had lifted her spirits slightly to
know that he had an understanding of what he had done in his grasping
for a pitiful financial reward.
Later that day as she drove down to Dorset she could almost feel Stewart sitting beside her in his beloved car.
She wished but no; wishes were for those who were still capable of
having dreams.
***
The helicopter lifted off from Nelson, there was enough fuel now to
get home. David set the controls for optimum cruising speed and arced
his way across the dark starless sky to Shadow Fall. He should be home
by one in the morning and he would be ready for his bed.
The Collector had prepared a space for his latest acquisition. He had
received only the vaguest descriptions of the wonders of the artefact and
was growing increasingly excited as the prospect of holding it

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approached. It would be late before it arrived but he would wait up. It

would be unlikely that he could sleep anyway.
He crossed the conservatory and decided to swim for a while; he
slipped into his pool and did a few laps. He was surprised to see Perdita
walking down to the pool to join him, she rarely swam but tonight he
was captivated by her vision as he watched her walk to the side of the
pool. In the soft light he could see she was naked as she slipped into the
water, barely causing a ripple, and swam slowly towards him. There was
something in her eyes that he had not seen before, an intensity, an honesty. She kissed him without speaking and the Collector found themselves making love in the water, a sensation he had never felt before as
the two bodies entwined, weightless in the warm water. They floated together afterwards, holding hands enjoying the afterglow, the relaxation.
"Darling, will you ever truly love me?" Perdita asked.
There was no answer.
She waited for him to say something but he was silent.
"Then I can no longer stay with you."
She swam to the edge and pulled herself from the pool. Her decision
was final; his wealth was no longer enough to keep her. She walked back
to her room without speaking.
The Collector doubted that she meant it; he would buy her something
that would change her mind. He wanted her to stay with him almost as
much as he wanted the box.
He had not yet seen the box but already it had cost him a lot. Not in
monetary terms, especially now that Benson would need nothing. But he
had thought of the man, if not as a friend, at least as a trusted colleague.
It pained him that he had been forced to end their relationship in the
way he had.
He swam a few more laps and then pulled himself from the water and
dressed in a track suit. There was still an hour before the helicopter was
due and he wanted to stay awake for the moment. He went to his music
room and played some Wagner on the surround sound system which
filled the room with a palpable energy. The Ride of the Valkyries was
echoing across the room as he heard the first sound of the Jet Ranger in
the distance.
He moved outside into the icy wind and watched the helicopter land
in a swirl of dust. David climbed out and handed the box over as if it
were just the morning mail.
Having pulled all the right levers the box had been brought to him
across the world. It was now his. It felt like an insignificant small box in

147

his hands as he took it inside. He found Perdita, he needed to share the

moment with her, he seemed oblivious to what she had said to him as if
he had already forgotten.
"Here it is "
He unwrapped the package and saw for the first time the mysterious
object. The glowing was brighter than it had been before, the colours
stronger and the hypnotic effect entranced both of them. He had been
warned not to touch the box with his bare skin but found he was drawn
to it irresistibly and stroked the top.
He fell back, its power was growing. Perdita looked at him with astonishment as he screamed in pain. But it was not just pain he felt, there was
more, a foggy understanding of something came into his mind before he
fell unconscious on the floor.
There were just three hours left before zero.
Perdita did not know what to do; she called the housekeeper
Christina, from her sleep. She came over from her cottage and found Perdita holding the Collector, his eyes were open but unseeing yet he was
still alive breathing normally.
"What has happened?"
"I don't know It's that damned box."
Christina looked at the object and was transfixed by it. It was beyond
description pulsating in translucent colours that were beyond adequate
description and now glowing ever brighter. She moved to the box held
out her hand.
"No don't touch it "
Christina pulled back and returned her attention to her employer. As
she watched, the colour was returning to his cheeks and he appeared to
be coming aware of his surroundings again.
"Darling are you all right?"
He managed to nod.
"Help me into the chair, will you." He said
"What happened?" Pandora asked.
"I saw I don't know what, it was an experience so overwhelming
that I could not hold on to my senses."
He collapsed into the chair.
"We need to get him to his bed." Perdita said to Christina.
The collector was too weak to argue and they managed to get him to
his room and lay him on the bed.

148

"I'll take care of him now." Perdita said "Thank you for rushing over to
help, but you can go back to bed."
Perdita lay beside him; she knew that she could not leave him now
Even if he could not love her, she could not help loving him despite
everything.
They fell asleep.
The box pulsated ever brighter.
Three hours later it was 4:38 New Zealand time. Zero had arrived.
There was a blinding flash and then an immense pressure wave. The
box had entered its final activation mode. An area of a half kilometre in
diameter around where the box had rested was turned to a glowing and
pulsating plasma. Despite the evacuation warnings that Pandora's Box
had tried to send, Shadow Fall and its inhabitants no longer existed. The
Collector's museum of petty trivia no longer existed.

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Chapter

23

A piercing shaft of light shot up from the spot where the Collector had
once made his home. It reached up into the starry sky like a slender
search light. Pencil thin it thrust up into the night beyond the sight of
men and across the vastness of space. A fragmentary swirl of snow drifted across the beam from a passing cloud and sparkled with the refracted light from the phenomena which would mystify and capture the
imagination of all those who saw it.
The echo of the event travelled quickly round the World until few on
the planet were unaware of the Shadow Fall Phenomenon. No one really
knew what had happened or by what magic the beam and the undecipherable transmission were maintained. The media came up with stories of aliens, of unknown terrorist weapons, of the second coming; a
portent of the end of the world. Cults of magic and mysticism mushroomed across the planet as the people sought an understanding.
As the months passed the World's scientific community was drawn together by the United Nations in order to find an explanation for the phenomenon. There was initially considerable dispute about the cause and
the consequences but after time a consensus was achieved by a majority
of the world's scientific community that the box had been a sleeping signal device. It had lain waiting until evidence that technology on Earth
had advanced to a predetermined level and then by that trigger, had releasing its signal across the universe to the beings that had left the box on
Earth millennia ago.
There could only be speculation about the motivation for signalling
that the Earth had become a technological planet. The theories ranged
from reasonable to insane. Some thought that the signal was an invitation to invasion by the superior beings to enable our enslavement. Others
thought the signal was to alert our readiness to join the intelligent species of the Universe in mutual communication. A surprising number saw
it as the direct work of the Devil. Few thought that the message would be
good for mankind; those who did were quickly shouted down by the
voices of fear. All we had was our own experience of how advanced

150

cultures had treated the less sophisticated ones that they had encountered. The lesson was one of subjugation and exploitation.
At the United Nations a resolution was put forward that the World
should come together to face the threat. Many of the World's leaders
were calling for the Beacon at Shadow fall to be destroyed. Some noted
that such an action, if it were even possible, would already be too late;
the signal had been transmitted for months and the message would continue across the universe even if we shut it down. The United States Ambassador addressed the gathered forum.
My friends, I speak to you as the clouds of fear roll across our gathered
nations. We face an unknown and unprecedented threat for all of us
gathered here who call Mother Earth our home. It is our only home; it is
ours by divine right and we can not let the danger go unchallenged.
Never before has the World had to face such an adversary. An adversary
of unknown power and technology with a motivation than can only
make us tremble. The United States will not cower before such a threat.
We have never backed down from our obligations to bring peace,
prosperity and security, not only to the American people, but to the
peoples of the World. The United States, once goaded into action, has
never been defeated in a conflict of arms; our men and women will strive
until our last precious drop of our blood is spilled and soaks into the barren dust. We have a sacred duty to secure the freedom and future of our
people. At this time we face a dark and uncertain future, but it is not a
future without hope. I bring you hope my friends.
Many claim that we should wait and see what fate the Aliens have in
store for us. We in the United States believe that waiting is not an option.
The threat extends to all the peoples of our precious planet and my President has asked me to offer our hand in cooperation with all of mankind
to free us all from this potential disaster. The might of the United States
is offered as a gift to mankind. As we stand here united by this danger
and you are all invited to join us in striving for a future for our selves; for
our children; and for our children's children until the end of time. Nothing less is worthy of the Human race. We are a proud peoples; entrusted
with the care and dominion of this World by God. To forsake our responsibilities would be a denial of what my Country and all thinking
people believe in. We urge you to join us in this fight for mankind. The
fight for our very survival as a species. May the Almighty look down on
us and give us the strength to do what we must.
It was proposed that a missile attack on the Shadow Fall site should be
initiated as soon as possible. The proposal was accepted and the New

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Zealand Government, as a committed supporter of the UN agreed to allow a coalition of the Superpowers to undertake the destruction.
A ring of missiles were placed at distance around Shadow Fall. The
few protesters were not allowed anywhere near and sat in silent and sad
protest as the allotted hour arrived. The missiles were fired in unison at
Shadow Fall - Ground Zero as the place had been named. The outcome was
unexpected. Despite the massive destructive power of the one hundred
missile strikes, the ferocious energy of the exploding warheads appeared
simply to be absorbed by the radiating artefact that was at the centre of
Ground Zero.
When overwhelming force is ineffective, a rational response would be
to look for an alternative. For the World's superpowers the alternative
was to use even more force.
Despite protestations from the New Zealand government who represented a country fundamentally opposed to nuclear weapons, three such
devices were positioned in a triangle around Shadow fall. The explosion
should have created a twelve mile crater around the site and left utter
desolation and a barren radiating wilderness into the foreseeable future.
However once again the explosive power was simply absorbed.
Ten days later the signal and the shaft of light that pierced into the sky
simply and without warning stopped. The delay in the victory remained
unexplained but the call for celebration did not go unheeded. Later investigators ventured to the site and found nothing. There was no destruction, no radiation; just a small indentation in the ground to mark the
spot. A new growth of virgin tussock grass was already covering what
had once been the Collector's home. A memorial was erected on the site
to mark mankind's first victory against an Alien invasion.
In the few years since man had made its first tentative steps outside
our own planet and had gazed in awe from afar at the delicate beauty of
our fragile world, the Earth's population had doubled. Those less than
fifty years, when viewed from the time scale of a human life may seem a
lengthy period but from a time scale measured from when life first
evolved on our planet, it is an immeasurably small instant. Yet the collective wisdom was calling for more growth. We had won a war, by
force of arms, against an uncertain Alien threat. The World sighed with
collective relief and things quickly returned to normal. The event soon
lost the attention of the media although it was never forgotten and was
used as a rallying cry for the misguided. The relief that the threat was
over sparked an economic boom and the Planet's resources were

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exploited at accelerating pace as everyone became richer and the future

appeared brighter than ever.
***
On Home Planet in system 55 Cancri which is our close neighbour just
41 light years from our own solar system, the signal was yet to reach
them. When the 41 years had elapsed and the data from the sentinel had
been analysed, it might be imagined that a memo would be posted
among the members of the Galactic Union. It might read along these
lines:
It is with sadness that I must file the following report:
A sentinel signal was activated on the Blue Planet of system Solaris.
We share the same corner of the spiral arm of our Galaxy and have long
thought of these people as potential friends. Before the automatic shut
down of the sentinel, monitoring of the internal planetary communications revealed that the inhabitants are driven by motivations which are
not familiar to our own way of life. The people of the Blue Planet appear
to be primitively aggressive and unfortunately used their weaponry to
try to destroy the sentinel. To those unfamiliar with the term weaponry
please refer to document 94A/56/224b where an explanation is available. It is clear that these unfortunate inhabitants of Blue Planet are very
dangerous and the Solaris System will be marked as an area with which
to avoid all contact. The inhabitants have certainly progressed to a level
of technology that would qualify them for admittance to the Union but
unfortunately there appears to have been no development of what we
would recognize as wisdom. The beings are clearly not ready to share
the collective Galactic Knowledge from which we all benefit. The Blue
Planet is in desperate need of an inexhaustible and freely available energy supply and while we could easily share the technology with them,
there is a real danger that it would be used for weaponry (again see 94a/
56/22b). It is sadly unlikely that these people will have the capacity to
maintain their planet in an inhabitable state for more than the next tens
of generations. This is a disappointment to our Union as the people held
such promise when the sleeping sentinels were originally left to watch
for their technological rise. We feel saddened that we have no option
other than to abandon them to their own unfortunate fate which we feel
is likely to be self induced extinction. Our sadness must also extend to
the other inhabitants of the Blue Planet who are already suffering extinction from the actions of the dominant species. I must, with profound sadness, recommend no further action.

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Message ends

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www.feedbooks.com
Food for the mind

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