The Secret of Excalibur (3 page)

‘Dr Wilde!’ said Lola Gianetti, standing up from her post at the reception desk to greet her. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here today. How was the White House? Did you meet the President?’

‘I did.’ Lola let out a muffled squeak of excitement. ‘And I’m sure I made an ass of myself, but Hector told me not to worry about it, so it can’t have been that bad.’ She turned for her office. ‘Sorry, I can’t hang around - I promised Eddie I’d be quick. If we miss the flight, he’ll . . .’ She considered it. ‘Huh. He probably wouldn’t be too bothered, actually.’

‘You’re meeting his family in England, aren’t you? Good luck with that. The first time I met my boyfriend’s family, I was petrified. His mom hated me!’

‘Yeah, thanks for that, Lola,’ said Nina with a pained smile as she walked away.

It only took a few minutes to copy the files she wanted from her computer on to a flash drive, and a couple of phone calls reassured her that the IHA operations she was overseeing would be in safe hands for the few days she was away. Gathering up her notes, she left her office - only to encounter an unexpected face in the corridor.

‘Matt!’ she said. ‘How are you?’

‘Fine, thanks!’ replied Matt Trulli, giving her a hug. The spike-haired, slightly overweight Australian submarine designer had helped Nina on her previous adventures, risking his own life to do so, and on her recommendation had decided to accept a somewhat quieter job in one of the IHA’s sister agencies. Nina still wasn’t used to seeing him in a suit, although he retained some vestiges of his old beach-bum look - today his shirt had three open buttons and his tie’s knot was about level with his heart. ‘Heard you and Eddie just got given the keys to the country. Nice one!’

‘Thanks. What’re you doing here? I thought you were in Australia with UNARA.’ The United Nations Antarctic Research Agency was gearing up to explore the unique ecosystems of the prehistoric lakes beneath the ice sheets of the South Pole.

‘Nah, got a while yet. We’re waiting for winter to finish down there. I’ve been on a bit of a world tour, though - came up from the UNARA office to tell your sub guys about my trip to Russia. The Russians are the experts at getting subs to work under ice, so I picked up a few pointers. Handy being an Aussie - if I’d been a Yank, they probably wouldn’t even have let me into the country, the way things are at the moment. Even got to go aboard one of their nuclear missile boats. Pretty cool, in a terrifying this-could-blow-up-the-world sort of way.’

‘Let’s hope that doesn’t actually happen.’

‘Too right.’ Trulli looked towards Nina’s office. ‘Is Eddie around?’

‘No, he’s at home. We’re flying to England later.’

‘Oh, meeting his family?’ Nina nodded. Trulli pursed his lips. ‘Good luck with that! This girl I was once seeing? Going fine, until I met her family. They couldn’t stand me!’

‘Thanks for the reassurance, Matt!’ said Nina in not-entirely-mock despair. ‘Anyway, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. We’ll catch up properly when I get back.’

‘Will do,’ Trulli said as she walked away. ‘Oh, and don’t worry about the meet-the-family thing. It’ll be fine, probably!’

‘Thanks again, Matt!’ Nina replied through her teeth as she entered the reception area.

‘Dr Wilde,’ called Lola as she passed, ‘I just remembered there’s some mail for you. What do you want me to do with it?’

Nina paused at the door. ‘Is there anything important?’

‘Memos, mostly. Nothing urgent. Oh, and some stuff for the crank file.’

‘Great,’ Nina sighed. Since becoming the public face of the IHA, she had to her annoyance also become the locus for seemingly every crackpot on the planet with a theory about UFOs, lost civilisations, sea monsters, psychic powers . . . ‘Maybe I should take something to read on the plane in case I need a laugh. Anything good?’

‘The usual. Crystals and black helicopters and pyramid power - oh, and someone who says he knew your parents.’

Nina felt an unpleasant twinge in her stomach: her parents had died twelve years earlier, murdered while on their own quest to find Atlantis. If some crank was just using them to get her attention . . . ‘What’s his name?’

‘Bernard somebody. Hold on, I’ve got it here . . .’

‘Bernd?’ Nina said, suddenly intrigued. Maybe it wasn’t a crank after all. ‘Bernd Rust?’

‘Yes, that’s right,’ Lola replied, surprised, as she plucked a padded envelope from a sorting tray. ‘You know him?’

‘Only vaguely - but he
was
a friend of my parents.’ Nina took the envelope, opening it to find a DVD-R disc in a plastic case and a single sheet of paper. She unfolded it and read the crisp handwriting.

Dear Nina,

Firstly, I hope you still remember me - it is some time since we last met, at the memorial service for Henry and Laura. Even though it has been over a decade, their loss is still felt, as they were both good friends of mine.

It is vital that we meet in person to discuss the contents of the enclosed disc. Please contact me when you receive this. It is a matter of extreme importance, and it concerns your parents.

Bernd Rust

A telephone number was written at the bottom of the page, but there was no address. Nina checked the envelope. It had been sent by air mail within the last few days, and the postmark appeared to be German.

For a moment she considered returning to her office to examine the disc’s contents on her computer, but a glance at her watch deterred her. Besides, she was taking her laptop; she could check the disc on the flight.

It concerns your parents
. What had Rust found? The German was a historian, Nina remembered, and she had learned years after the fact that her parents’ doomed expedition had relied upon secret Nazi documents to follow the trail to Atlantis. Had Rust been the one who provided the papers?

‘Are you okay? Nina?’

She blinked at Lola’s question, for a moment lost in thought. Then she hurriedly stuffed the disc and letter back into the envelope. ‘Fine, thanks. Just . . . yeah, I know him, just haven’t spoken to him for a long time.’ The blonde receptionist still seemed concerned. ‘It’s fine, Lola, really. I’ll have a look at it on the plane. And speaking of which,’ she went on, glad of the conversational segue, ‘I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you when I get back.’

‘Good luck with the family!’ Lola called after her.

This time, Nina didn’t react. She had something else to concern her.

Chase tilted back the seat as far as it would go, then stretched out with a contented sigh. ‘Ah,
this
is more like it. But I bet if you’d worn that medal at the check-in desk, we would have been upgraded to first class.’

‘I’ve got a gift horse here,’ Nina said mockingly. ‘You wanna look at its mouth?’ As far as she was concerned, business class was more than a good enough free upgrade from their original economy tickets - though she had to admit that when the woman at the counter recognised her and offered to upgrade their seating, the luxuries of first class had been what sprang to mind.

‘Neigh, lass. I’m just going to get some kip. I don’t want to get straight into a hire car after only having two hours’ sleep on a transatlantic flight.’

‘Well, I’m not tired yet.’ They were under half an hour into the overnight flight, and Nina was still very much on New York time. ‘Can you get my bag down?’

Chase grunted. ‘Great. First you demand the window seat, now you’re going to make me get up and down the whole flight.’ But he stood and opened the overhead locker, handing Nina her carry-on bag. She took out her MacBook Pro and the envelope containing Rust’s letter and disc, then handed the bag back to Chase.

‘If you wake me up five minutes after I get to sleep to go to the loo,’ he grumbled as he shoved it back into the locker, ‘I’m going to chuck you out of the emergency exit.’

‘Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gone out of a plane without a parachute, would it?’ They shared a smile, then Chase returned to his seat as Nina opened her laptop and inserted the disc. After a few seconds it appeared on the desktop. She copied the single file on the disc to her hard drive, then double-clicked it . . . but to her surprise was presented with a password prompt.

So what was the password?

Nina looked back at the letter. Nothing suggested itself - except the telephone number. She typed it in and hit return. The laptop made a warning bleep, then cleared the prompt, ready for another attempt. If the password were some variation of the eleven-digit number, that meant - she quickly did the mental arithmetic to work it out - almost forty million combinations. Never mind the rest of the flight, it would take the rest of the
year
to try them all. So much for that.

She tried again, using her own name. No result. Then she moved on to her parents’ names, then Rust’s. Still nothing. She’d briefly met Rust’s wife at the memorial service - what was her name? Sabine? Sabrina? Not that it mattered, since neither worked.

‘Are you going to keep binging and bonging on that thing all night?’ Chase complained.

Nina muted the speakers. ‘It’s encrypted, and I don’t know the password.’

‘Why, who’s sending you encrypted files? Is it porn?’

‘No, it’s not porn,’ Nina snapped. ‘I don’t know what it is, actually.’

‘Then it
might
be porn! Here, let’s have a look.’ He sat up, Nina batting his eager hands away.

‘It’s from an old friend of my parents. He said he needs to talk about whatever’s on the disc - and about them. See, he gave me a phone number.’

‘So call it.’

‘What?’

‘He’s obviously not going to give you the password until you talk to him.’ Chase indicated the side of Nina’s seat. ‘There’s an airphone, give him a bell. Only do it on your own credit card, ’cause it’ll probably be about ten dollars a second.’

‘Cheapskate,’ Nina said with a smile. But it was a good idea, so she found her credit card and made the call. The phone rang several times, then:

‘Hallo?’ said a sleepy yet wary German voice.

‘Hello,’ Nina replied. ‘Is this Bernd Rust?’

‘Who is this?’ All tiredness was suddenly gone, but the voice was now more cautious than ever.

‘It’s Nina, Nina Wilde. I got your letter.’

‘Nina!’ His relief was clear even through the echoing crackle of the satellite link. ‘Yes, this is Bernd Rust, yes! Thank you for calling!’

‘I got your disc as well, but I can’t access it. The file on it is encrypted.’

‘I know. I wanted to be sure that the wrong people could not read it.’

‘So now that the
right
person’s got it, what’s the password?’

There was a pause. ‘I . . . I can only give it to you in person. Not over the phone.’

Nina immediately became suspicious. ‘Why not? What’s going on?’

‘Everything will make sense when I see you. But I must see you, face to face. Where are you now?’

‘On a plane, actually. I’m flying to England—’

‘England!’ Rust exclaimed. ‘That is perfect, I will take the first Eurostar this morning. Will you be in London?’

‘No, no,’ said Nina, trying to slow things down. ‘I’ll be in Bournemouth, I’m going to meet my fiancé’s family—’

‘Bournemouth, I see. I will meet you there, then.’

‘What? No, I mean—’

Rust laughed. ‘Nina, I know this must all seem rather strange.’

Nina’s own laugh was rather more desperate. ‘Uh,
yeah
! Kinda!’

‘Do not worry. I will not take up much of your time. But I promise you, you will want to hear what I have to tell you.’

‘About my parents?’

She heard nothing but static for a moment. Then: ‘Yes. About your parents.’

Chase was looking decidedly quizzical by now, and Nina wanted to wrap the call up before Rust invited himself into their hotel room. ‘Look, I’ll give you my cell number, it’ll work in Europe. Call me after nine o’clock, English time. We should be out of the airport by then.’ She recited the number.

‘Very good. I will call you then. Oh, and congratulations on your award. And on your engagement. Goodbye!’

‘Uh, thanks,’ Nina said to the click of disconnection.

‘So,’ said Chase, ‘sounds like this bloke really wants to meet you.’

‘I guess.’

‘So we won’t be able to meet my family? Oh, what a shame! Maybe next time, then.’ He seemed quite pleased at the idea.

‘No, we’re still meeting them.’

‘Tchah!’

‘Wait, I’m the one who’s nervous about it, why am
I
. . .’ Nina shook her head. ‘Oh, whatever. Anyway, he wants to come to Bournemouth to see me.’ She stared at the icon of the mysterious disc on the laptop screen. ‘Why’s he being so secretive? And what’s it got to do with my parents?’

‘How did he know them?’ Chase asked.

‘He’s a historian, so I suppose they met when my parents were doing archaeological research. I don’t really know - I only met him a couple of times. The last time was at their memorial service.’ She sat back, closing her eyes. ‘Funny. I’d been thinking a lot about them recently, and now this . . .’

‘How come?’

‘You know, with us getting engaged. It’s sad that they’ll never get to meet you. They would have liked you.’

‘Well,
everybody
likes me,’ Chase said smugly. ‘Apart from the arseholes who want to kill me, anyway.’

‘At least there haven’t been any of them around for a while.’

‘Don’t say that, you’ll jinx it!’ he protested. ‘But yeah, everything you’ve told me about your mum -
mom
, I mean - and dad, they sounded like really great people.’

‘They were.’ Nina sighed, for a moment lost in memory. ‘What about you?’

‘What
about
me?’

‘You never talk about your parents. I mean, you told me what happened to your mother, but—’

‘Nothing to talk about. I left home to join to the army after my mum died and haven’t been back since.’ He shifted in his seat, turning slightly away from her.

‘Why not?’

‘Hmm?’

Nina knew Chase well enough to recognise the tone of his non-reply: a mock-casual
I wasn’t listening
disguising a
Can we change the subject?
‘I said,’ she went on, mildly needled by his attempt at evasion, ‘why haven’t you been back home since then?’