The Tenth Cycle: A Thriller (A Rossler Foundation Mystery Book 1)

by JC Ryan

  Daniel was bewildered. Take his time, spend the night? Where was he going?

  “Thanks, John. But who is Prof. Barry?”

  “Can’t believe you don’t know, and you call yourself an archaeology journalist! Professor Allan Barry is the director of the Joukowsky Institute for Archaeology and the Ancient World, in Providence, Rhode Island. Surely you know of it.”

  “Oh, yes sir, of course. But I didn’t recognize the director’s name. My bad.”

  “Well, get going! You don’t have all day.”

  Daniel moved with alacrity. He had been a little resentful that Kingston had made this move without consulting him, but the more he considered it, the more he agreed. It would be great if his articles had the rigor of a scientific paper. The last thing he wanted was to stir up controversy, and it wouldn’t hurt to have a research assistant, either.

  Daniel signed out of his workstation and raced home to grab a change of clothes and a bite to eat before hitting the road for the three-hour drive by one p.m. He would make it easily in time to meet with Prof. Barry this afternoon, and would leave his laptop with the research and presentation for the man to examine overnight. With any luck, by mid-morning tomorrow he’d be heading back to the city, with Prof. Barry’s blessing and perhaps an assistant to help with the research. Sweet!

  ~~~

  Professor Barry wasn’t at all what Daniel expected, in appearance or demeanor. Based on the name, Daniel had visualized a tall Scot, with red hair and a bluff manner. Instead, Barry was not tall, and was dark of skin and grizzled of hair and beard. Daniel would have pegged him for Jewish or Middle Eastern, if he had seen him before hearing his name. On the other hand, his rumpled suit with suede patches on the elbows fit the stereotype perfectly, as did Barry’s abrupt speech and short manner. Suppressing his curiosity about the anomaly his name represented, Daniel thanked Barry for seeing him.

  “Nonsense, John Kingston is an old and valued friend. Anything I can do for him is my pleasure.”

  “Thank you, then, in John’s behalf. I assume he told you about the project?”

  “A little. Seems you’ve found an intriguing article in ArchaeoScience Journal, correct? And you want to explore it in depth and in layman’s terms for your column in the Times?”

  “That’s correct. Did John mention the topic?”

  “Something about the construction of the pyramids. You realize this has been argued to death?”

  “Yes, sir, but this article brought out all the facts and coincidences that leads to the conclusion that the established theory is not, cannot be, correct.”

  “John asked me to keep my mind open, so I’ll hear your evidence.”

  As Daniel once again went through his presentation, complete with multimedia-enhanced slides and his well-formed analysis, Barry began to sit forward in his chair and frown at the screen. Once he muttered, “Yes, yes, nothing new here.”

  Occasionally, he would hold up his hand and ask a question, halting the slide show. Or, he might ask to stop for a minute and scribble something on a notepad, frowning and muttering under his breath. He seemed to be doing calculations in longhand. In any case, he didn’t explain, merely waved at Daniel to continue the slide show.

  At the end of the presentation, Barry peppered Daniel with questions and objections, only a few of which he could answer.

  “What makes you think you can prove anything that generations of scholars have failed to prove?”

  “I’m not out to prove anything, Prof. Barry. The aim of my articles will be to raise the questions for laypeople.”

  “Young man, all this will accomplish is to create controversy. We already have the most logical answers. You’ll have the conspiracy theorists cropping up with that hogwash about aliens again. When you ask unanswerable questions, it leaves gaps. Science hates gaps.”

  “Yes, sir, I understand. But, what if it leads to more study, and more plausible answers are found? Surely you can admit that the first question alone, that of transportation and placing of the stones, doesn’t have a believable answer. By my calculations, one of those massive blocks would have to have been placed every five minutes for the pyramid to be built in the twenty years that scholars claim. We can’t even do that now.”

  “Er, yes, that does seem to be a valid question.”

  “May I show you the original article?”

  “I suppose. ArchaeoScience Journal, you say? Hmm, there must be something to it, then.”

  “Yes, sir. Otherwise I wouldn’t have paid any attention.”

  Prof. Barry turned his scrutiny on Daniel. “No?”

  “No, sir. My grandfather is Dr. Nicholas Rossler. Perhaps you’ve heard of him? He taught me where to find information that can be trusted.”

  Barry’s bushy eyebrows had risen in surprise. “Nick Rossler is your grandfather?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so? Fine man, fine scholar. Why are you wasting your time with journalism, young man?”

  Daniel seized the opportunity. “I don’t have the focus that Grandpa does, sir. I’m interested in archaeology in a general sense. That’s why John thought I’d need the help of someone who could guide my research, I guess. He’s very interested in this story, and because he’ll receive much of the credit when it’s published, he wants it to be right.”

  Daniel could not have hit on a more persuasive argument. Barry’s demeanor changed, the frown dissolving, the corners of his mouth turning upward. He appeared to be thinking carefully, nodding as his eyes darted around the room.

  “Yes, I suppose it will do no harm to investigate these matters more closely. And I can see that it would be a good idea for someone with professional credentials to oversee your research. I’ll assign someone to the project; however, anything you publish must receive my prior approval.”

  Now it was Daniel’s turn to lift his eyebrows. Oversee my research? Receive Barry’s approval? He would have to quash that notion, but his better judgment told him that now was not the time. He would establish the working relationship when he met the person Prof. Barry had in mind. As far as receiving Barry’s approval, he’d let John deal with his friend.

  “Thank you very much, sir. I’m sure John will be grateful. When can I expect to hear from your assistant?”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll speak with her tomorrow morning first thing. Can you stay to meet her?”

  “Oh, yes, John told me to take my time, spend the night if necessary.”

  “Splendid. By the way, I wouldn’t call Dr. Clarke my assistant if I were you. She is a brilliant researcher. In fact, she may not think much of this assignment, but I’ll deal with that. Where are you staying?”

  “I’m at the Renaissance Providence downtown.”

  “Expect Dr. Clarke’s call, say around ten a.m.?”

  “Yes, sir, that will be fine.”

  After Daniel left, Barry left a message for Dr. Clarke to see him as soon as possible, then dialed again, this time long-distance to Langley, VA. After several rings, a voice mail greeting barked nothing more than “Leave a message.”

  He was ready. “It’s Barry. We have another one. Journalist researching the Great Pyramid, doubt if anything will come of it but will monitor. Will send details on journalist and the babysitter I assign him later.”

  ~~~

  “Really, Professor, you can’t be serious!”

  “I’m quite serious, my dear.”

  “Why is this so important to you, sir, if I may ask?”

  “I have my reasons. One of which is maintaining good relations with the editor of the archaeology section at the New York Times. They can influence grants, public opinion of our institution and how much attention our research projects receive. It’s good business.”

  “But, sir, my own research.”

  “This should not affect your own research. I doubt it will take much time, and it’s just temporary. And now, if that’s all, I’ll leave it to you to contact him this morning. He’s st
aying at the Renaissance downtown, and he expects your call around 10 a.m.”

  Sarah Clarke suppressed her annoyance with difficulty. This demand was infuriating! But, Barry’s vote was important at her tenure hearing next year and she already knew that a university was a political workplace. She would have to make the best of it. Sarah stood to go, not trusting herself to speak again after her dismissal. She marched briskly to the door, and took extra care to close it gently.

  Honestly, couldn’t Prof. Barry have at least consulted her schedule before making that appointment for her? She would have to take control of how this, this journalist impacted her time. She had better things to do than babysit a reporter.

  ~~~

  Daniel found himself at loose ends after leaving the meeting with Prof. Barry at around five p.m. the previous afternoon. After an early dinner, Daniel thought to check his email. While he had the laptop open, he Googled Dr. Sarah Clarke, thinking perhaps he could be better prepared for the meeting. He wasn’t prepared for the beauty whose picture came up. Was there ever a more perfect face, or a more brilliant smile? Daniel gazed at the picture on his screen for several minutes, noting the perfect skin, the lovely long dark hair and warm brown eyes. His head buzzed with an unfamiliar energy, which eventually coalesced into a thought his quirky brain instantly translated into a Looney Tunes character with its heart bursting out of its chest and shouting va-va-va-VOOM!

  After a few moments spent in reverie about how closely he would be working with this woman and whether his policy against dating colleagues was applicable, Daniel set aside his baser nature and began to read with interest that Dr. Clarke had received her PhD with honors a little more than a year before, her dissertation shedding new light on Egyptian mythology.

  Daniel jotted down a few notes to set the information in his memory, so he could appear well-prepared. Then he allowed himself to gaze at the picture again. If she had a personality to go with those looks, he might get a bonus out of this. He appreciated women as much as the next man, and despite his loftier standards, was not unaffected by looks. He just didn’t like to be a caveman about it.

  ~~~

  By the time the phone rang in the hotel room at precisely ten a.m. the next morning, Daniel had determined to take advantage of John’s instructions to ‘take his time’. While he was here, he would attempt to meet with Dr. Clarke and persuade her to see his side of things. Her voice on the phone was as warm as her brown eyes, further cementing the attraction for Daniel even before he had met her. He maintained his professionalism, though, as he asked to meet with her before he left town. As if it were an afterthought, he asked if she would like to have lunch with him, assuming it didn’t interfere with her lecture schedule.

  Sarah was at first reluctant, but, taking into account that he had been courteous enough to give her a way out, accepted after all. This Daniel Rossler had a nice voice, and he hadn’t been pushy. Maybe he wouldn’t turn out to be the run-of-mill jerk reporter that she had imagined. Nevertheless, she would have to be firm about the working relationship. Agreeing to meet him at Fat Belly’s Providence, which she assured him had good food at modest prices and an atmosphere that would allow them time for their meeting, Sarah ended the call with optimism. She intended to make short work of this assignment.

  At the appointed time, a carefully-groomed Daniel was already waiting and watching for the attractive woman he expected from his online research last night. She sailed in on a breath of spring air precisely one minute late. Daniel’s breath caught in his throat. In person, she was even more lovely, her body slender but shapely, and her eyes sparkling. The reality was so much better than the picture that Daniel kept his composure with difficulty. Only his strict self-discipline and his upbringing kept him from looking her up and down and emitting an appreciative wolf whistle. Dr. Clarke’s smile did indeed light up the room. He stood to greet her, impressed with her firm handshake, and then seated her in a booth, thinking he may have to do a column sometime on the concept of love at first sight.

  “I hope a booth is okay, I thought it might give a little more privacy. The subject of my story is confidential.”

  “That’s fine. Just what is the subject of your story? Prof. Barry was a little vague.”

  “Why don’t we leave that until after we order? It’s a bit complex, and I want to do my best to help you understand what I’m after.”

  “Very well, but you must understand Mr. Rossler, that my time is valuable. In fact, I must be on campus for my next class in only an hour.”

  Sarah was discreetly giving Daniel an appraising look, and thinking that for an annoying assignment, at least the man was easy on the eyes. But, going on personal experience, it would be better to keep this on a professional level. Her eyes flicked to the menu just as Daniel’s came up to look at her.

  “What would you recommend?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Daniel lifted his menu slightly.

  “Oh, you mean recommend to eat? Everything is good here. I’m partial to the pulled pork, but it’s messy.”

  “Messy it is, then. And what will you have?”

  Sarah couldn’t help the small smile that played around her lips. It was impossible to dislike this guy, despite her annoyance at being saddled with him. “Oh, I’m having the pork.”

  “Two orders of messy, coming right up.” Daniel was confident he could charm her into at least liking him, if not the assignment. At the moment, that seemed to be more important to him than the assignment anyway. Down boy, he thought. Keep it cool. She didn’t seem to be the type of girl who could be rushed off her feet, and that wasn’t his style anyway.

  Their orders for food and drink settled and the server dismissed for the moment, Sarah tried again.

  “Mr. Rossler, I’m sure you know that with my class and research schedule, I have no time to waste. Please tell me what this is all about.”

  “Okay, Dr. Clarke. At its essence are facts brought to my attention by an article in ArchaeoScience Journal regarding the mystery of the construction of the Great Pyramid at Giza.”

  “Oh, no, not that again!” Why would Prof. Barry have even given this the time of day?”

  “Please, Dr. Clarke. I’m beginning to understand that this is a touchy subject. The last thing I want to do is write a speculative story that stirs up controversy. Have you read the article I mentioned?”

  “No, it isn’t really my area of interest, although of course I respect the journal. What does it say that got you interested?”

  “Well, at first I was interested because they brought out some facts about how the construction could not have happened, and I verified them. That got me curious about how it must have been done, but the article was neutral on that subject. It merely raised the questions. The more I read, though, the more questions I had. My job is to bring archaeology to the layman in such a way as to make him think, ask himself questions, and hopefully find some answers if I can provide them.”

  “And what is your expertise, to think you can find those answers?”

  “To be honest, my degree is in journalism. But, I’ve been interested in archaeology since I was a boy. My grandfather is a noted archaeologist, Nicholas Rossler.”

  If Daniel hoped Dr. Clarke would recognize the name as Prof. Barry had, he was disappointed. But, it wasn’t surprising. His grandfather had been retired for fifteen years, since she was barely a teen. The name didn’t mean a thing to her, obviously.

  “Why did Prof. Barry involve me? What is it that you want from me?”

  “He didn’t tell you?”

  “No, he was quite vague.”

  “My editor, John Kingston called him. Evidently they’re old friends. Prof. Barry seemed to want to make sure that the article was well-vetted, so as to reflect well on John.”

  “How curious. Do newspaper articles typically require scientific oversight?”

  There was that word again, oversight. Time to put the kibosh on it. “No, not at all. I rather had in mind th
at you would help in the research, make sure I steered clear of crackpots for my expert opinions, that sort of thing.”

  “I see.”

  When their lunch was done and Sarah indicated her need to hurry to her next lecture, they made plans to meet again the next day to iron out how they would proceed. She still betrayed both annoyance and reluctance, but at least she was cooperating. Daniel stood as she got up to leave, and asked her to please leave the check to him when she started to reach into her purse.

  “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her voice, though the words were curt, betrayed some warmth already. Maybe she was just a nice person, but Daniel wanted to think he had made some inroads on forming a friendly relationship. He watched her as she made her way to the door, for once allowing himself the luxury of gazing on a most pleasing and shapely backside and pair of legs, then was embarrassed to be caught as she turned at the door and waved. Was that a mischievous smile curling her lips? When Sarah was all the way out the door, Daniel gave a happy grin, a fist pump, and a heartfelt “Yes!” to the amusement of several people around him.

  ~~~

  Energized both by the acceptance of his story idea and the opportunity to work with the lovely Sarah Clarke, Daniel threw himself into the research, carefully documenting his sources as he built a database of facts, speculation and potential answers. For the first couple of weeks, he and Sarah had a Thursday morning Skype conference to give her an overview of what he’d researched and have her systematically knock down his conclusions. It was frustrating professionally, but on a personal level he was stunned to realize he looked forward to just seeing her. When her smiling countenance appeared on his monitor, he dared hope that she even looked forward to seeing him, though it didn’t stop her from ruthlessly destroying his logic.

  Daniel’s growing attraction to Sarah led him to make a trip to Providence over the last weekend of May. He had all his facts, and he had questions. Unfortunately, he was no closer to finding the answers that were a prerequisite for publication with the blessing of the Joukowsky Institute. Without that, Kingston would be reluctant to publish as well.