set, and meant to fit together. Note how the arms are positioned so they’ll interlock. But as you see here,’ he nodded, and Macy clicked on to the next slide, ‘it’s obvious that the set is incomplete.’
The new image showed the statues from directly above. They had been positioned in such a way that, facing outwards with one shoulder touching, they formed two sides of a triangle – and, as Bellfriar had said, it was evident that a third figurine would perfectly complete the group. ‘Using simulation software,’ said the geologist proudly, ‘I can show you what the missing one would look like.’ Another slide, and the two statues were shown flanking a computer-generated image of a third. All three were broadly similar, the only appreciable difference being the position of the arms. ‘And here’s how they fit together . . . ’
The photos of the figures were replaced by CG copies which began a showy animated display, spinning round each other before slotting into a shoulder-to-shoulder triptych. The UN observers seemed impressed, but Nina was less so, having seen the IHA’s own computer simulation of the missing figure over seven months earlier. ‘That was one of the first things we realised when we received the second statue,’ she said. ‘There was – and hopefully still is – a third. The question is, where?’
‘Well, before we can ask where,’ said Bellfriar amiably, ‘we first have to ask what. As in, what are the statues made of?’ He indicated the two figures in the case. ‘As you see, they have an unusual colour, this strong purple, with a rather vitreous lustre. Some form of bornite was my first thought, but the copper content in the scrape sample I took was far too low – almost non-existent, in fact. But the density of the rock was surprisingly high, so it had an appreciable metal content . . . ’
Nina glanced at Eddie as Bellfriar launched into a detailed account of his mineralogical tests. His eyes had glazed over. She tapped his foot with hers. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘Geology’s even more boring than archaeology.’
She was about to jab his foot again, this time with her high heel rather than her toe, when Bellfriar’s words caught her full attention. ‘. . . which brought me to my conclusion: the rock from which the statues were carved was probably mesosideritic.’
It took a moment, but the term produced a match from Nina’s mental database. ‘A meteorite?’
Bellfriar was impressed. ‘You know about meteorites, Dr Wilde?’
‘From an archaeological standpoint. There was a dagger made from meteoric iron in Tutankhamun’s tomb, and some Eskimo and Native American tribes also made ceremonial weapons from it. And there was an East African tribe that worshipped a fallen meteorite. But apart from that, only really what I remember from Astronomy 101.’
‘Well, I can give you a brief refresher course,’ said Bellfriar, chuckling again. ‘A mesosiderite is a stony-iron meteorite, which as the name suggests is made up of a combination of rock and metal. They’re very rare – there are fewer than a hundred and fifty known examples, I believe.’
‘You said it’s probably a . . . a mesosiderite,’ said Penrose, almost stumbling over the word. ‘Can’t you be sure?’
‘Not without cutting one of the statues in two to make a microscope slide, and I doubt Dr Wilde – or the Egyptian government – would be happy about that! But the tests I could do seemed reasonably conclusive. Although,’ he added, ‘if there’s any way at all I could get a larger sample, I’d very much like to carry out further tests. The rock has some unusual properties.’
‘In what way?’ asked Nina.
‘The density, for one thing – either the iron content is much higher than I’d expect, or there are heavier metals in there as well. There are also traces of organic compounds.’
Eddie gave the statues a deeply suspicious look. ‘Wait, there was something alive
The new image showed the statues from directly above. They had been positioned in such a way that, facing outwards with one shoulder touching, they formed two sides of a triangle – and, as Bellfriar had said, it was evident that a third figurine would perfectly complete the group. ‘Using simulation software,’ said the geologist proudly, ‘I can show you what the missing one would look like.’ Another slide, and the two statues were shown flanking a computer-generated image of a third. All three were broadly similar, the only appreciable difference being the position of the arms. ‘And here’s how they fit together . . . ’
The photos of the figures were replaced by CG copies which began a showy animated display, spinning round each other before slotting into a shoulder-to-shoulder triptych. The UN observers seemed impressed, but Nina was less so, having seen the IHA’s own computer simulation of the missing figure over seven months earlier. ‘That was one of the first things we realised when we received the second statue,’ she said. ‘There was – and hopefully still is – a third. The question is, where?’
‘Well, before we can ask where,’ said Bellfriar amiably, ‘we first have to ask what. As in, what are the statues made of?’ He indicated the two figures in the case. ‘As you see, they have an unusual colour, this strong purple, with a rather vitreous lustre. Some form of bornite was my first thought, but the copper content in the scrape sample I took was far too low – almost non-existent, in fact. But the density of the rock was surprisingly high, so it had an appreciable metal content . . . ’
Nina glanced at Eddie as Bellfriar launched into a detailed account of his mineralogical tests. His eyes had glazed over. She tapped his foot with hers. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘Geology’s even more boring than archaeology.’
She was about to jab his foot again, this time with her high heel rather than her toe, when Bellfriar’s words caught her full attention. ‘. . . which brought me to my conclusion: the rock from which the statues were carved was probably mesosideritic.’
It took a moment, but the term produced a match from Nina’s mental database. ‘A meteorite?’
Bellfriar was impressed. ‘You know about meteorites, Dr Wilde?’
‘From an archaeological standpoint. There was a dagger made from meteoric iron in Tutankhamun’s tomb, and some Eskimo and Native American tribes also made ceremonial weapons from it. And there was an East African tribe that worshipped a fallen meteorite. But apart from that, only really what I remember from Astronomy 101.’
‘Well, I can give you a brief refresher course,’ said Bellfriar, chuckling again. ‘A mesosiderite is a stony-iron meteorite, which as the name suggests is made up of a combination of rock and metal. They’re very rare – there are fewer than a hundred and fifty known examples, I believe.’
‘You said it’s probably a . . . a mesosiderite,’ said Penrose, almost stumbling over the word. ‘Can’t you be sure?’
‘Not without cutting one of the statues in two to make a microscope slide, and I doubt Dr Wilde – or the Egyptian government – would be happy about that! But the tests I could do seemed reasonably conclusive. Although,’ he added, ‘if there’s any way at all I could get a larger sample, I’d very much like to carry out further tests. The rock has some unusual properties.’
‘In what way?’ asked Nina.
‘The density, for one thing – either the iron content is much higher than I’d expect, or there are heavier metals in there as well. There are also traces of organic compounds.’
Eddie gave the statues a deeply suspicious look. ‘Wait, there was something alive
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