Diablo Mesa(20)

“It’s funny,” said Corrie, “that the weird skin texture is confined to the facial area. Everything else looks normal—under the circumstances.”

“I noticed that, too,” said Tappan. “Agent Swanson, your partner said you’re a forensic anthropologist. Do you have any idea what might cause those peculiar scales on the face?”

“Offhand,” said Corrie, “it looks like acid. Or perhaps the features were burned off with a flamethrower.”

“I vote for acid,” said Nora. “I don’t see any evidence of charring.”

“We’ll do some histopathology in the lab,” said Corrie. “What we do is infuse the tissue with paraffin, then slice very thin sections for microscopic examination. And we’ll do toxicology tests as well. I’m pretty sure we can solve the mystery.”

Morwood noticed she glanced at him for approval. He remained impassive. Corrie was one of the best agents he’d mentored, but she had a weakness: she was tentative, and others could sense it. She hadn’t mastered how to project a sense of confidence. It was a tricky thing to do, but a good FBI agent had to learn how to convey self-assurance and control to those around her, even if she didn’t feel it inside.

Break over, Nora and her assistants went back to work in the grid. They began opening additional quadrants. Morwood watched as they removed the surface plants, setting them aside in flats, evidently for later replanting, and then began scraping off thin layers of crusty sand. The work proceeded apace until they reached a depth of three feet—the same depth as the other body. A discoloration now appeared in the soil. Nora and the assistants exchanged trowels for palette knives, loosening the dirt and then sweeping it off.

At this point, Morwood rose and joined them.

The first thing to appear was skin of the same scaly texture. This soon revealed itself to belong to the forehead of another corpse.

There is a second body, Morwood thought. He felt an uncharacteristic excitement, almost as if—subconsciously—he’d been expecting this would happen.

“Same execution-style shot to the head,” he said.

“Yes,” said Corrie.

As Nora brushed, an object suddenly gleamed in the sunlight.

“And there’s another .45 casing,” said Morwood. He glanced at Corrie. “Doesn’t it seem these two bodies could date to the late forties? Those oxfords, those gabardine slacks…?” He glanced over at her, arching his eyebrows.

“It could be,” Corrie said.

“What would you think if, as soon as both bodies are fully uncovered, we transfer them onto tarps and search them for ID?”

“I would say that’s a good idea, sir.”

They continued to watch Nora work. This body looked much like the other one, the face partially obliterated by some as-yet-unknown agent. Once again, it was lying on its back in a loose and careless position, but as Nora moved down to the torso, Morwood realized with surprise that it was not a man but a woman.

He quickly covered up his disappointment. “Well, well,” he said, “Look what we’ve got here.”

Tappan breathed out in surprise. “This just gets weirder and weirder.”

Nora, Emilio, and Scott continued working, uncovering the rest of the body. The sun was now an hour from the horizon.

The dirt winked with another sudden glint. Rapidly Nora’s brush uncovered a smooth, gleaming metal surface resting next to the hip bone of the second corpse. With every sweep, the exposed object looked stranger and stranger: two gleaming ovoids of a silvery metal, one six inches in diameter, the other perhaps eighteen inches, connected by a complicated maze of tiny metal pipes, tubes, and valves. At one end was a dial.

Nobody said anything, but the surprise and consternation deepened. Nora finally paused in her work and she and Emilio climbed out of the hole while Scott put away the tools. The six of them stared at the object in utter silence. It was so peculiar, so perfectly made, so…alien, that Morwood was taken aback.

“Well,” said Nora after a long moment. “Anyone got a guess as to what that is?”

Given all the rumors about Area 51 and UFO abductions, Morwood could surmise what people were thinking. But nobody voiced their thoughts.

“Finish clearing away the dirt and let’s remove it,” said Tappan, his voice gravelly with suppressed excitement.

Nora took a series of photos of the object in situ and then continued digging around it with a palette knife, flicking and sweeping away the dirt. Emilio and Scott had paused working on the lower extremity of the corpse and were now spectators as well.

After ten minutes, she had completely exposed the object. She inserted a wooden chopstick underneath and, ever so carefully, pried it from the grip of the earth. With gloved hands, she turned it over.

Stamped on the bottom, in clear script, was:





HICHEM INDUSTRIES


EDISON, NEW JERSEY

3H Bleed 1X-20X



This was followed by some stamped numbers.

There was a silence. Then Tappan began to chuckle, which became a laugh. “And who said God doesn’t have a sense of humor? For a moment there I was convinced that was an alien object!” He shook his head ruefully. “Sure got my heart rate up. Although I should note it is from New Jersey.”

“Well,” Nora said, “if it isn’t an alien artifact, what the hell is it?”