Echo by Jack McDevitt

what’s next?”
    “You feel like doing a stakeout?”
    “A stakeout? Here?”
    “It shouldn’t take long.”

EIGHT

    We can never say that anything is lost beyond all chance of recall. In the end, even the sea gives up its secrets.
    —Eskaiya Black, Lost in Aruba

     
     
     
     
     
    We didn’t have a decent view of Rachel’s building from the parking area, so we went airborne. Alex didn’t want to tell me what we were waiting for. Instead, he got that smug look and said I should just sit tight.
    So I let him enjoy his moment. Then I asked whether he really believed she was sending for Doug again.
    “Sure,” he said with that big grin. “What choice does she have?”
    We drifted around and watched. After about twenty minutes, the white, split-wing Sentinel came out of the western sky, homed in on the Square, and descended onto what was probably Rachel’s private pad behind the building. A door opened, and Doug popped out, followed by Brian. They climbed up onto the covered walkway, out of our view, and must have gone in through a rear entrance.
    “We going down to confront them?” I asked.
    “And do what? Let’s just watch.”
    They’d been inside about ten minutes when they reappeared, carrying what might have been a packing case. It looked big enough to contain the tablet.
    The case was obviously heavy. They struggled with it but got it to the Sentinel. A door opened and they pushed it into the backseat. Then both climbed on board, and the skimmer rose into the night.
    “Where do you figure they’re going?” I asked.
    “Don’t know. I assume a more secure place to stow the tablet.”
    It was dark by then, the last vestiges of the sunset lost in the lights of a thousand airborne vehicles. The sky was full of moving stars. The Sentinel surprised us by entering an eastbound lane. Outbound, toward the ocean. We remained with them, but stayed far enough back to avoid discovery. I hoped.
    We moved across the city and arced out toward the beaches. The traffic turned north and south along the coast, but the Sentinel kept going.
    Just offshore and south of the city, a large brightly illuminated emporium, the Majestic, occupied a quarter of Liberty Island. Its upper deck provided landing pads, and I thought for a moment that was where they were headed. But they maintained altitude and kept going as the remaining traffic peeled away. “Alex,” I said, “if we stay with them, they’ll know we’re here.”
    “Can’t help it, Chase.”
    “Where are they going? You think there’s a boat out here somewhere?”
    “They’re going to dump it.”
    “Why on earth would they do that?”
    “I have no idea, Chase. For whatever reason, Rachel wants to keep it out of our hands. If that means dropping it in the ocean, that’s what she’s prepared to do.”
    “What do you suggest?”
    He shook his head. “Damn. Open a channel to them.”
    We got a quick blip of static. Then Doug’s voice. “Go ahead, Benedict. That is you back there, right?”
    “What are you guys doing?”
    “I think you can guess.”
    “Why?”
    “None of your business. The thing’s taking up space, so we’re getting rid of it.” He growled. It was a thin, almost pathetic sound. “Go the hell away.”
    “Listen, guys, that thing is worth a lot of money. I’m willing to pay for it.”
    “How much?”
    The notion suddenly broke over me that this whole thing was a con job. That we were being set up.
    “I’ll give you a thousand. And match it for Brian.” That would be considerably more than either of these characters could earn in a year.
    “That’s pretty good money. Why’s it worth so much, Alex?”
    “I’ve told you why. The engraving uses symbols nobody’s seen before. We don’t know the source.”
    “It was probably just somebody screwing around.”
    “Maybe.”
    “You’re really willing to pay that much?”
    “Yes.”
    “Hmmm.” I saw lights on the ocean. A cruise ship several kilometers to port. “Brian,