Free Timeline by Michael Crichton

wall.
    “You know,” the Professor said, “what she really doesn’t like is corporate sponsorship. But archaeological research has always depended on outside benefactors. A hundred years ago, the benefactors were all individuals: Carnegie, Peabody, Stanford. But these days wealth is corporate, so Nippon TV finances the Sistine Chapel, British Telecom finances York, Philips Electronics finances the Toulouse castrum, and ITC finances us.”
    “Speak of the devil,” Chris said. As they came over the hill, they saw the dark form of Diane Kramer, standing with André Marek.
    The Professor sighed. “This day is completely wasted. How long is she going to be here?”
    “Her plane is at Bergerac. She’s scheduled to leave this afternoon at three.”
    :
    “I’m sorry about that woman,” Diane Kramer said, when Johnston came up to join her. “She’s annoying everybody, but we’ve been unable to do anything about her.”
    “Bellin said you wanted me to talk to her.”
    “We want everybody to talk to her,” Kramer said. “We’re doing everything we can to show her there are no secrets.”
    “She seemed mostly concerned,” Johnston said, “that ITC was making land purchases in this area.”
    “Land purchases? ITC?” Kramer laughed. “I haven’t heard that one before. Did she ask you about niobium and nuclear reactors?”
    “As a matter of fact, she did. She said you’d bought a company in Nigeria, to assure your supply.”
    “Nigeria,” Kramer repeated, shaking her head. “Oh dear. Our niobium comes from Canada. Niobium’s not exactly a rare metal, you know. It sells for seventy-five dollars a pound.” She shook her head. “We offered to give her a tour of our facility, interview with our president, bring a photographer, her own experts, whatever she wants. But no. It’s modern journalism: don’t let the facts get in your way.”
    Kramer turned, and gestured to the ruins of Castelgard all around them. “Anyway,” she said. “I’ve taken Dr. Marek’s excellent tour, in the helicopter and on foot. It’s evident you’re doing absolutely spectacular work. Progress is good, the work’s of extremely high academic quality, recordkeeping is first rate, your people are happy, the site is managed well. Just fabulous. I couldn’t be happier. But Dr. Marek tells me he is going to be late for his — what is it?”
    “My broadsword lesson,” Marek said.
    “His broadsword lesson. Yes. I think he should certainly do that. It doesn’t sound like something you can change, like a piano lesson. In the meantime, shall we walk the site together?”
    “Of course,” Johnston said.
    Chris’s radio beeped. A voice said, “Chris? It’s Sophie for you.”
    “I’ll call her back.”
    “No, no,” Kramer said. “You go ahead. I’ll speak to the Professor alone.”
    Johnston said quickly, “I usually have Chris with me, to take notes.”
    “I don’t think we’ll need notes today.”
    “All right. Fine.” He turned to Chris. “But give me your radio, in case.”
    “No problem,” Chris said. He unclipped the radio from his belt and handed it to Johnston. As Johnston took it in his hand, he clearly flicked on the voice-activation switch. Then he slipped it on his belt.
    “Thanks,” Johnston said. “Now, you better go call Sophie. You know she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
    “Right,” Chris said.
    As Johnston and Kramer began to walk through the ruins, he sprinted across the field toward the stone farmhouse that served as the project office.
    :
    Just beyond the crumbling walls of Castelgard town, the team had bought a dilapidated stone storehouse and had rebuilt the roof, and repaired the stonework. Here they housed all their electronics, lab equipment and archival computers. Unprocessed records and artifacts were spread out on the ground beneath a broad green tent adjacent to the farmhouse.
    Chris went into the storehouse, which was one large room that they had divided into two. To the left,