“Amazing!”
Keller said. “Simply amazing....”
Salazar
turned the large multicolored seismic printout on the table before them, to
give Keller a better view. The printout was the result of 3-D seismic imaging,
created by measuring and analyzing the echoes of sounds transmitted into the
earth and recaptured as bounces.
“It
looks like a pyramid,” Salazar said. “An inverted pyramid.”
The
anomaly began about 1,100 feet down, according to the printout. A great square
base at the top, diminishing to a tiny point some 1,000 feet below that. A
gigantic structure of unknown substance, looking like nothing so much as the
Great Pyramid of Cheops – upside down.
“What's
inside it?” Keller asked.
“We
have no idea. It appears to be partly hollow, but there are ghosts of shapes
inside, structures that could be most anything. Damnedest thing is, the shapes
appear to be artificial.”
“Artificial?”
“Not
natural, I mean. Like someone constructed them. Well, look at the entire
anomaly! Pyramids aren't natural!”
Keller
stepped back from the table and rubbed his temples. He felt a whopper of a
headache coming on.
“Did
you try to drill into it?”
“Haven't
had a chance. What with Vallentine and all.”
Salazar
walked Keller out into the corridor. When they reached the elevators, Keller
turned to him and said: “I need to go down there – to Hima. I need to see the
site for myself.”
Salazar
stared at him for a moment, then said: “I'll arrange a flight.”
Keller
headed back to his office. Muhammad Al-Shaikh was waiting for him. He had a
sheaf of papers in his hand. Al-Shaikh laid the papers on Keller's desk.
“The
coroner's report,” he said.
“Quicker
than I expected,” Keller said as he went over the papers.
“Bottom
line: Buffling was not hanged. His breathing stopped, but it wasn't the rope.
It was like someone put a pillow over his face. He suffocated, but he didn't
hang from that rope. It was just for show.”
“So
someone killed him, put a hangman's noose around his neck and posed him on a
ladder? What the hell is going on here?”
“Pretty
damned strange, if you ask me, boss,” Muhammad said.
Shaking
his head, Keller put the coroner's papers in a manila folder, walked out of his
office and headed for a coffee station. As he walked he tried to make sense of
what was happening. The common thread, of course, was the Hima field. So far
two people involved in exploring that field had been murdered. Two other
workers out at the site itself had disappeared under mysterious circumstances.
And they too might be dead. Keller was sure he wouldn't get very far with his
investigation until he got out to Hima. As he approached the coffee wagon, his
cell phone chirped.
“Keller,”
he said.
It
was the watch supervisor, Mazin Dabbagh. “Bad news, Dan,” he said. “No sign of
Vallentine and Dossary. Their vehicle is missing as well. The camp is still
there, but no sign of life. I told the chopper pilot to head back to Abqaiq. I
heard you're planning to head down there, so I thought it best that we keep the
camp site undisturbed until you arrive.”
“Good
call, thanks,” said Keller, as he signaled the coffee man for his usual. “I expect
to get down there first thing in the morning. I presume we've had no
communications from the team.”
“Nothing
at all,” said Dabbagh. “Nothing on satellite phone or emergency shortwave. It's
total silence from Hima.”
“Who
else was down there, besides Vallentine and Dossary?”
“A
couple of laborers and a cook. All Pakistanis, I think. No sign of them
either.”
“Great,”
said Keller. He wrapped up the phone call and took a sip of scalding hot
coffee. He didn't think he'd be getting much sleep that night.
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