Jaunt by Erik Kreffel Page B

containing any accidents with Level-3 bio-and chem-safety protocols. Fullerene glass also had the ability—due to its remarkable carbon-60 structure—to become opaque on command for private briefings and provide, if need be, instant security behind its bullet-resistant surface.
    Ordinary walls here were nonexistent, save for U5-6, a room sequestered to their far left, which de Lis identified only as the aforementioned gallery, a multibillion-dollar minifacility for large-scale holographic presentations. The agents could only wonder what the good doctor had in store for them in there.
    De Lis soon ushered them over to his own office, U5-3, inhabiting the north wall of the theoretical studies lab, to their right. Sliding his pass key into the round, fullerenesuspended panel, de Lis led them inside. He walked behind his small desk and quickly read from a holobook, then set it back down, looking both agents in the eyes. “This is your home from now on. This is what we do to keep the world out of harm’s grasp. All of this,” he gestured with his outstretched hands, “is our first line of defense.”
    De Lis stepped over to the two men, leading them to the fullerene wall overlooking the area. All three observed the busy scientists on the other side, each doing his or her duty to decipher the secrets of the microscopic universe.
    “I just hope our defense isn’t too late.”
    Despite the vast pressure exerted by the government to decode the mystery of the jewels, the next several days passed by fleetingly. Various tests on the remaining jewels extracted from the robe revealed no more than before, and de Lis was hesitant to employ another Casimir experiment until all other avenues had been exhausted.
    While work on the bizarre, unforgiving objects proceeded with fits and starts, Valagua and Marlane made many examinations of the cryptid skull, as well as the topographical map handed to them by the abbot. A complex, three-dimensional holograph of the skull by the two scientists reconstructed areas on the original specimen that had long ago been crushed or fractured, allowing them a better chance of perhaps defining a genus and species for the cryptid, and just maybe figure out who or what brought these jewels to Earth, and for what purpose.
    Marlane had begun work on cataloguing the cryptid’s DNA and ribosomal RNA protein sequences, concluding—until better evidence could be uncovered—that the skull was of “no known terrestrial origin,” and, due to the presence of Y-90 isotopes, “most likely extraterrestrial,” eliciting the highest echelons of the USNA government to seek access to it. That, however, was on hold indefinitely, until all other avenues of cross-checking could rule out laboratory errors.
    Valagua, on his own time, had analyzed the US government map and written a computer program that displayed a holographic representation of the topology of the Nepalese region. Consulting known records from the time, he was able to extrapolate the terrain of the former country during the mid-twentieth century with a margin of error of positive or negative one-three-thousandth of a percent. This holograph would also take into account the shifting sub-Indian continental plate, the changing course of mountain rivers, flooding and cumulative rainfall over the centuries, and the regular shifting of Earth’s climate and magnetic field strength.
    With these factors plotted, Valagua set to work discerning the angle of approach the extraterrestrial body responsible for the crash may have taken. In this way, he could perhaps correlate these data with past or future satellite observations to determine any additional crash sites, if they existed. Thanks to nearly two hundred years’ worth of orbital astronomical observations, Valagua knew that often enough, if not always, more than one extraterrestrial object could be involved in any impact on Earth. Armed with all the Global Security Network data he could ask for and the