Karen nodded. “It has to be a miscalculation. There is no way the date could be denoting a real incident twelve millennia in the past. Unless the event were some fable…some creation myth being recounted.”

“Still, how would these people know how to map a snapshot of the night sky from twelve thousand years ago? Gabriel says the position of the constellations and stars is precise to a tenth of a millimeter.”

“It’s not impossible,” Karen argued. “The Mayans of South America had astronomical calendars of such precision that they rival our abilities today.”

“But to extrapolate that far back?”

“If the Mayans could do it, why not these folks? In fact, the builders might even be some lost tribe of the Maya. Who knows?”

“You’re right,” Miyuki said, shaking her head and standing up. “Who knows? There are too many variables. That’s why I didn’t bring it to your attention when Gabriel first told me of his discovery two days ago.”

Karen frowned. “You knew this two days ago?”

Miyuki shrugged. “I didn’t think it was that important. I was just testing Gabriel’s decoding ability. Since you were studying the language, I figured we’d discuss it later.”

“Then if it wasn’t this bombshell, why did you call me over today?”

Miyuki sighed. “The crystal star. Didn’t you listen when I phoned?”

Karen stood, remembering Miyuki’s urgent call. She had indeed mentioned something about the crystal star. “What have you learned? Did you find someone in the geology department to help you check it out?”

“No. Most of the geologists are still out in the field, researching the quakes and studying their effects. Such a catastrophe is a boon to those in their field. They won’t be back until the university reopens.”

“Then what did you learn?”

“I thought to do a bit of basic checking on my own. I was curious about its abnormally dense mass.” Miyuki led the way across the lab. “I borrowed an electronic scale and tools. I figured I’d do some simple measurements. Nothing complicated. Calculate its mass, density…that sort of thing.”

“And?”

“I kept failing.” Miyuki crossed to a workstation neatly arranged with graph paper, metal rulers, calipers, compasses, and a squat stainless steel box.

Karen scrunched up her nose. “You kept failing?”

Miyuki picked up a few leaves of graph paper. Neatly drawn on them were precise depictions of the five-pointed star, from multiple views. Each had tiny metric measurements denoted. It was clearly the work of many hours. “I calculated its volume both by geometry and water displacement. I wanted to be exact. I found it to occupy precisely 542 cubic centimeters.”

“What about its weight?”

Miyuki adjusted her bonnet. “That’s the strange part.” She waved at the graph papers and tools. “I thought these calculations were going to be the hard part. I figured that all I’d have to do afterward was weigh the artifact, then divide the weight by the calculated volume to get the density. Simple.”

Karen nodded. “So how much did it weigh?”

“That would depend.” Miyuki crossed to the steel box. “I borrowed this electronic scale from the geology department. It’s able to weigh an object down to a fraction of a milligram.”

“And?”

“Watch.” Miyuki switched on the power switch. “I left the crystal star in the sample chamber.”

Karen watched the red digital numbers climb higher and higher, settling at last on one number. Karen stared in disbelief.

“Amazing. That’s over thirty pounds. I can’t believe it. The star is that heavy?”

Miyuki turned to Karen. “Sometimes.”

“What do you mean?”

Miyuki opened the door to the electronic scale. Karen bent closer. Inside the sample chamber, the crystal star shone brightly, fracturing the room’s light into brilliant shards. Karen was once again stunned by its beauty.

She turned to Miyuki. “I don’t understand. What?”

Miyuki pointed to the red analog numbers of the electronic scale. The number had changed. It was smaller.

Karen straightened, frowning. “Is there a problem with the scale?”

“I thought the same thing.” Miyuki picked up the flashlight from the table. “Watch.” She flipped on the flashlight and pointed its narrow beam at the crystal.

The star shone more brilliantly. Karen had to squint against its glare. But her gaze did not remain long on the crystal artifact. She stared at the digital reading. It was smaller again.

“How…?”

Miyuki shadowed the flashlight’s beam with her palm and the number climbed higher. “Now you know why I had trouble with my calculations. The weight keeps changing. The stronger the light, the less it weighs.”

“That’s impossible. There’s no crystal on this planet that acts this way.”

Miyuki shrugged. “Why do you think I called you?”

David Spangler crossed the rolling flight deck of the Gibraltar. A southern storm had whipped up overnight, pelting the vessel with rain and gale force winds. This morning the worst of the storm had blown itself out, but the sky remained stacked with dark clouds. Drizzle swept across the deck in wicked spats. Safety nets that fringed the ship snapped and flapped in the gusts.

David hunched against the cold and headed toward the ramp tunnel that led down to the hangar deck below. Striding briskly, he approached the two men sheltered just inside the tunnel’s entrance. Two guards. They were his men, members of his seven-man assault team. Like him, they wore gray uniforms, black boots, black belts. Even their blond crew cuts matched his. David had handpicked his team five years ago. He nodded as he approached. They snapped to attention, no salutes.

Though their uniforms were free of any rank or designation, the entire NTSB team knew David’s men. A personal letter from CIA Director Ruzickov had made it clear to the investigators and the ship’s command staff that Spangler’s team was in charge of security for the wreckage until the ship left international waters.

“Where’s Weintraub?” he asked his second-in-command, Lieutenant Ken Rolfe.

“At the electronics station. Working on the flight data recorder.”

“Any news?”

“They’re still having no luck, sir. It’s tits up.”

David allowed himself a grim smile. Edwin Weintraub was the lead investigator for the NTSB — and a prime thorn in his side. The man was thorough, keen-eyed and sharp-witted. David knew that his presence wouldn’t make subterfuge any easier.

“Any suspicion?” he said in a lower voice, stepping closer.

“No, sir.”

David nodded, satisfied. Gregor Handel, Omega team’s electronics expert, had done his job well. As head of security, David had no trouble granting his man access to the recorder, out of sight of anyone in the NTSB. Handel had promised he could sabotage the recorder without any telltale sign of tampering. So far the lieutenant had proven as good as his word. After the revelation on the cockpit voice recording, David had not wanted the information on the flight’s data box to pinpoint a simple malfunction of one of Air Force One’s primary systems. It would be hard to blame the Chinese for an ordinary mechanical glitch. So he had ordered the second black box damaged.

“Do you know why Weintraub called me this morning?” David asked.

“No, sir. Only that something stirred up the hornet’s nest in there an hour ago.”

“An hour ago?” David clenched his teeth. If something new had been discovered, the standing orders were for him to be informed immediately. He stormed past his men. Since the first day, Weintraub had been testing the line between his team and David’s. It looked like a lesson might be necessary.