James Rollins (Page 42)

Henry cursed the metallurgist’s impeccable timing. He rubbed his palms together, trying to wipe away the memory of Joan’s skin. Get ahold of yourself, man. You’re acting like a smitten teenager.

He watched Joan walk away. One of her hands reached to touch her neck gently. Then she brushed her hair back into place, a midnight flow against her white smock. Mysteries or not, right now all he wished for was a few more moments alone with her.

Joan crossed to the door, opened it, and greeted the visitor. “Dale, thanks for coming over.”

Dale Kirkpatrick, the metallurgy expert from GeorgeWashingtonUniversity, stood a good head taller than Henry, but he was waspishly thin with an elongated face that seldom smiled. He tried to do so now with disastrous results, like a coroner greeting the bereaved. “Anything for a colleague.”

Henry sensed the red-haired man had shared more with Joan than just a professional relationship. The pair’s eyes met one another awkwardly, and the welcoming handshake was a touch longer than custom dictated. Henry instantly disliked him. The man wore an expensive silk suit and shoes polished to a glowing sheen. His heels tapped loudly as he was invited into the room. In his left hand, he carried a large equipment case.

Henry cleared his throat.

Joan swung around. “Dale, let me introduce you to Professor Henry Conklin.”

Kirkpatrick held out his hand. “The archaeologist.” It was a statement not a question, but Henry scented a trace of dismissal in his voice.

They shook hands, briefly and curtly.

“I appreciate your help in this matter,” Henry said. “It’s posed quite a mystery. We can’t make heads or tails of this amalgam or whatever it is.”

“Yes… well, let me just take a look.” The man’s attitude was again polite, but a touch haughty, as if his mere presence would bring light to darkness.

“It’s over here,” Joan said, guiding him to the worktable.

Once presented with the enigma, Kirkpatrick cocked his head, studying the strange substance in silence. Joan began to speak, but the specialist held up a finger, quieting her. Henry had an irrational urge to break that finger. “It’s not gold,” he finally declared.

“We sort of figured that out,” Henry said sourly.

The man glanced back at him, one eyebrow held high. “Undoubtedly, or I wouldn’t have been called in, now would I?” He turned back to the beaker and reached for the glass rod still embedded in the material. He fiddled with it. “Semisolid at room temperature,” he mumbled. “Have you ascertained a true melting point for the substance?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, that’s easy enough to do.” He told Joan what he would need. Soon they were gathered around a ceramic bowl warming over the low purple flame of a Bunsen burner. A sample of the metal filled the bottom half of the bowl with a thermometer embedded in it.

The metallurgist spoke as the material slowly heated under the hazards hood. “If it’s an amalgam of different elements, the constituent metals should separate out for us as it melts.”

“It’s already melted,” Henry said with a nod toward the bowl.

Dale swung his attention back, frowning. “That’s impossible. It’s only been warming for a few seconds. Even gold doesn’t melt at such a low temp.”

But Henry’s observation proved true. Using tongs, Dale jostled the bowl. The substance now appeared as loose as cream, only golden in color. He looked up to Joan. “What’s the temperature?”

Joan’s face was bunched in consternation. “Ninety-eight degrees Fahrenheit.”

Henry’s eyes widened. “Body temperature.”

Away from the heat source, the bowl quickly cooled and the metallic substance grew turgid as the trio pondered the result.

Henry spoke first. “I didn’t see any breakdown into component metals like you said. Does that mean it’s not an amalgam?”

“It’s too soon to say.” But Dale’s voice had lost its edge.

“What next?”

“A few more tests. I’d like to check its conductivity and its response to magnetism.”

In short order, they molded a sample of the soft metal into a cube and inserted two electrodes into it. Dale nodded, and Joan engaged the battery hookup. As soon as the current flowed, the cube melted into a sludge that ran across the worktable.

“Switch it off!”

Joan flipped the toggle. The material instantly solidified again. Dale touched the metal. “It’s cool.”

“What just happened?” Henry asked.

Dale just shook his head. He had no answer. “Bring me the magnets from my case.”

Henry and Joan positioned the two shielded magnets on either side of a second sample cube. Dale fastened a potentiometer on its side. “On my signal, raise the shields.” He leaned closer to the meter. “Now.”

Joan and Henry flicked open the lead dampers. Just as with the flow of electricity, the cube melted like ice in an oven, running across the table.

“Shield the magnets,” Dale ordered.

Once done, the substance instantly stopped flowing across the tabletop, freezing in place. Dale again fingered the solidified metal. He now wore a worried expression.

“Well?” Henry asked.

“You said the substance exploded out of the mummy’s skull when exposed to the CT scanner.”

“Yes,” Joan said. “It blew across the entire room.”

“Then even the CT scanner’s X rays affect the metal,” Dale mumbled to himself, tapping a pen on the table’s edge. “Interesting…”

Henry packed away the magnets. “What are you thinking?”

Dale’s eyes cleared and focused. He turned to them. “The substance must be capable of using any radiant energy with perfect efficiency—electric current, magnetic radiation, X rays. It absorbs these various energies to change state.” He nudged a trickle of the solidified metal. “I don’t think there’s even any heat given off as it changes form. It’s an example of the perfect consumption of energy. Not even waste heat! I’ve… I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s thermodynamically impossible.”

Henry studied the contents of the beaker. “Are you suggesting the scanner’s X rays triggered the mummy’s explosion?”

He nodded. “Bombarded by that amount of concentrated radiation, some of the material might have changed state—this time from liquid to gas. The sudden expansion could have caused the violent explosion, expelling the liquefied metal. Once away from the radiation, it changed back to this semisolid state.”