Free The Martian Pendant by Patrick Taylor

what he had just said. It was obvious that the source of the satellite signals would not be clear until actual digging brought up the reason. But what kind of substance could have both magnetic and nuclear properties? It was something entirely beyond the practical experience of earthbound scientists. There had been complicated calculations regarding the energy released by the decay of an isotope of iron, Fe60, in helping maintain the heat of the plastic mantle layer of the earth’s crust, but that was highly theoretical. Nowhere on earth had it actually been found, leading nuclear geophysicists to postulate its extinction on our planet by atomic decay. True, there were other isotopes of iron that had come out of nuclear experimentation, but none with a long half-life, or with a net energy release of any practical value.
    Using subtraction techniques with her computer, Diana was finally able to discern that the main source of the East African signal was projected not only close to the surface, but that it had a certain cylindrical shape. A short distance away, perhaps half a mile, she also detected a smaller hot spot almost the size of a similar focus at one end of the main signal. With the help of the Physics Department at Buell, her analysis further showed that the energy detected was a mixture of magnetic and nuclear radiation. Were these foci of volcanic origin, perhaps connected through a lava tube to the molten core of the nearby volcano? Or were they something not of this world? Volcanic vents usually don’t assume that orientation, she told herself, although lava tubes often do.
    For her, it was logical to connect what she then observed to her theory about a Martian landing. She lay awake that night, holding her pendant and pondering the question for hours. That buried object had to be their spaceship! But was she forcing the facts to fit her theory? By the time she finally drifted off at 3 a.m., she had become convinced that she was not. When she awakened the next day, she vowed that she would go to Africa with the expedition, one way or another. Aware of the participation of the Anthropology Department at the University of Chicago in the expedition, she decided to call Max Werner. He had, after all, tried to enlist her previously. When the telephone rang, it was his secretary who answered. “Hello,” she said cheerily, Palaeoanthropology, Myra speaking.”
    Diana sounded surprised at the introduction. “Isn’t this actually Professor Werner’s office?”
    “Well, yes,” came the reply, in a somewhat more formal tone, “Who may I say is calling, please?”
    “Diana Howard. I was a doctoral candidate in the Department a couple of years ago. May I please speak to the professor?” 
    There was a pause, followed by a slightly hostile reply, “I’m sorry, but he’s busy, and isn’t taking calls from anyone not directly involved in the Department.”
    In a firm voice, Diana said through clenched teeth, “If you don’t tell him that I’m on the phone, calling from California, he’s liable to kill you when he finds out, and if he doesn’t, I will. Now ring his office, and get him on the line.”
    When Max picked up the phone, his voice was almost breathless. “Diana, sweetheart! It’s good to hear from you. I’d almost given up hope after you begged off before. Damn, but it’s great to hear from you. What’s the reason for this honor?”
    Diana said, “I see you’re the same old smoothie you were when I left, Max. I’m calling about your including me in on the dig planned for next month in Africa. I’ve been working on that area with the Cray computer out here.”
    Professor Werner had never been generous with others, underlings especially, but it was obvious to him that Diana had come up in the world and could be a valuable asset to the archeological part of the dig, and also in furnishing information about the real purpose of the venture. Besides, he had always lusted after her.
    Without