Night of Error. Desmond Bagley

from symbols, they read: ‘Manganese – 28%; iron – 32%; cobalt – 8%; copper – 4%; nickel – 6%; other 22%. Wow!’

      ‘Wow,’ indeed.

      There followed analyses of four more nodules, all equally rich.

      I did some calculating and found the average cobalt in the five nodules to be a fraction under nine per cent. The copper and nickel weren’t to be laughed away either. I didn’t yet know much about the economics of recovery but it was evident that this might be a paying proposition even with relatively primitive methods of dredging, depending on the depth of water. And I had reason to believe that this was not too great to be worked in. With more sophisticated equipment it would be better than owning a gold mine.

      But there was always the snag – nowhere in the diary did Mark say where these riches were to be found. In the whole notebook there was not one place name mentioned. So we weren’t really any better off than we were before, except that scattered through the typewritten pages was the phrase, ‘Picture Here’ , with a number attached, and at the end was a sheaf of reproductions and a brief account by the cipher expert of these doodled drawings.

      It is possible and indeed probable that these drawings are of the nature of pictograms or rebuses. A study of the pictograms leads me to believe that they must indicate place names, and of the 32 drawings, I believe I have successfully identified 24.

      To illustrate: the rough sketch of the gas mantle with the word GRATIS beneath may well refer to the Australian town of Fremantle; the bearded man with the sword and the baby is probably Solomon, referring to the biblical story, and may indicate the Solomon Islands; the bearded man looking at a monkey may be a reference to Darwin in the Australian territory; the straight line neatly bisected may refer to either the Equator or Midway Island.

      The fact that all these names occur in the same quarter of the globe is a further indication that one may be on the right track in such surmising. Other names tentatively identified are also to be found in the same geographical area.

      Tracings of the drawings, together with possible identifications are attached. Of the eight drawings unidentified all I can say is that to solve these one would need to have a more precise knowledge of these geographical areas, together with the need to know a great deal more about the ‘artist’, since it is obvious that an idiosyncratic mode of thought is here employed, involving a person’s training, experience and interior feelings; in fact, a total life.

      I looked up the analyses of the two non-standard nodules again. Coming immediately after them were two of the drawings, numbers 28 and 29. I checked them against the tracings. One was of a busty wench wearing a Phrygian cap with underneath it the words, ‘The Fair Goddess’. The other was a rather bedraggled-looking American eagle with the inscription, ‘The Disappearing Trick’. Neither was identified.

      I leaned back and thought about it all. I knew that Mark’s ship had been based on Australia during the IGY – hence, possibly, the Australian references. Mark had probably been in the Solomons and might well have gone as far as Midway – he would certainly have crossed the Equator anyway. Did he go as far as Easter Island? I checked the tracings and found it – a rabbit apparently trying to hatch an egg, the traditional fertility symbols of Easter. That was one the expert had spotted too.

      It was a hell of a big area in which to find The Fair Goddess or The Disappearing Trick.

      I thought about Mark and his ‘idiosyncratic mode of thought’. The expert had been dead right there; Mark’s mode of thought had been so damned idiosyncratic that there had been times when I thought it wasn’t human. He had a strangely twisted, involute mind which delighted in complexity and deception, never taking a straight course but always heading ultimately for one goal – the eventual well-being of Mark Trevelyan.

      All my life I had watched him cheat and scheme his way towards the things he wanted, never realizing that if he’d gone about his business in a straightforward way it would have been more efficient. He had a first-class brain, but he was lazy and always looking for short cuts – but you don’t find many short cuts in science and thus he tended to lag behind in his work.

      I think he was envious of me for some odd reason of his own. I was two years older than he and when we were children he nearly beat himself to death trying to keep up, physically and mentally. The psycho boys have a term for it in their tasteless jargon – ’sibling rivalry’ – but with Mark it took an unhealthy turn. He seemed to see his whole life in terms of competition with me, even inventing apparent parental favouritism towards me where I could see none. The only reason that I know for his having elected to study oceanography was because I had done so and not, like me, out of any burning interest in the subject. He once said that he would be famous when I had been forgotten.

      It was ironic in a way that he should have said that, because he had the makings of a first rate scientist with a theoretical bent and if he’d lived I’m sure he could have surprised us all – provided he wasn’t looking for a short cut at the time.

      For years I’d avoided him, physically and professionally, but now I had to match my mind against his. I had to ferret out the meanings of his cryptic scrawls and it wasn’t going to be easy. Mark had almost certainly been up to something fishy – no high-cobalt results had come out of the IGY investigations, and Mark had such results. I thought about what Jarvis had said about Mark faking figures during that period, and about Mark trying to persuade Campbell into an expedition to look for nodules. It was beginning to add up.

      I was interrupted by Geordie, banging at my bedroom door.

      ‘Aren’t you ready yet?’ he demanded. ‘We’ve got a dinner date with the boss.’

      ‘My God, the time’s slipped away.’

      ‘Found anything?’

      I looked up wryly. ‘Yes, I’ve found something but I’m damned if I know what it is. It looks as though we still have to play children’s games against Mark’s tortuous mind. I’ll tell you about it when we’re all together. Give me ten minutes to get dressed.’

      ‘There’s just one thing first,’ Geordie said, hovering in the doorway. ‘Kane went ashore and sent a cable.’

      ‘Where to?’

      ‘We were lucky. I detailed Danny Williams to trail him – don’t worry, he’ll keep it dark – and he managed to hear Kane asking about cable rates to Rabaul.’

      ‘Rabaul! But that’s in New Britain – in the Bismarck Archipelago. Why in hell would he send a cable clear across the Pacific? Do you know who he sent it to?’

      ‘Danny couldn’t find that out. He should have bribed the counter clerk, but he didn’t. The boss says come to the lounge first – it’s early for a meal. He wants to talk to us there – about that, I guess.’ He pointed to the diary pages lying on my bed.

      IV

      The Colombo was a modern American style hotel. We went to the reception desk where I had signed in earlier and asked for Campbell, and were told that he was in one of the lounges. It was discreetly lighted and in one corner a trio was playing soft music. It was all very civilized and pleasant and a definite change from life on board Esmerelda. Over drinks I asked Campbell to bear with me in setting aside for the moment the matter of the diary, and instead listen while I brought him up to date concerning manganese nodules, to which he reluctantly agreed. He was at his most churlish but I knew that mood would wear off as his interest sharpened. He had already done some homework so I was able to cover the matter of nodule formation and distribution fairly quickly, feeling pleased that I had already brought Geordie up to that point as well. I came at last to the matter of nodule dating.