When Olivia thought of the work ahead, her excitement rose all over again. As a private collection, not many people beyond Carling herself would have viewed the contents of the library. Perhaps assistants had gotten the opportunity through the centuries, or protégées that Carling might have taken on. This opportunity really was the chance of a lifetime. Of several lifetimes.
The rest of the day sped away in a flurry of activity. When the plane landed in SFO, more Cadillac Escalades were waiting to take the group to the Marina Yacht Harbor, just east of Chrissy Field and the Presidio, at the northernmost tip of the peninsula.
The private yacht was massive, with plenty of space in the cargo hold to transport the collection. As soon as Olivia saw it moored in its slip, her mental tally of the cost of the expedition shot higher. A crew of six waited on board for them, each one of them members of Sebastian’s security company. From the snatches of conversation she overheard, apparently Sebastian owned the yacht—or at least his company did.
As soon as they boarded, Sebastian disappeared. Olivia found herself disturbed by how disappointed she was at his absence. She had all too quickly developed a fascination for him. Making a determined effort, she managed to banish him from her mind and concentrate on the tasks at hand.
The crew showed the newcomers to their tiny cabins, which were little more than glorified closets with bunk beds built into the walls. Olivia and Dendera were to share one cabin.
She didn’t mind the lack of space or privacy. They would only spend one night on the yacht and cross over the passageway first thing in the morning. After they had finished on the island and the library was safely stored in the cargo hold, the yacht would set sail for international waters, at which point Carling could take possession of the library personally, while Olivia and the others could fly home.
They checked food supplies and containers, tried on wet suits to make sure of their fit and ran through the procedure for crossing over. All members of Sebastian’s team were experienced scuba divers. Dendera, Steve and Olivia were not, and they would use a buddy system for the crossover itself. Each of the three symbologists would make the journey with one of the security team. After the run-through a nearby restaurant delivered supper, which was a simple fare of deli sandwiches and potato salad, along with a yeasty, golden beer from a local microbrewery.
Finally, around nine thirty, Bailey, who had assumed command in Sebastian’s absence, declared that they were done for the day. Everything was packed with precision, and all the equipment had been double-checked. Bailey gave permission for shore leave for what remained of the evening.
Steve, Dendera and half of the security crew disembarked, while the other half remained on duty. Phaedra disappeared too, although Olivia could still sense her presence. She thought the Djinn had not actually left the yacht but instead had merely chosen to let go of her physical form. Olivia couldn’t know for sure, but she guessed that the Djinn had dematerialized to avoid any more need to socialize.
Having no interest in exploring the San Francisco nightlife, Olivia chose to remain aboard. Her body clock was acclimated to Eastern Standard Time and insisted it was past midnight. She was both tired and wound up.
Unwilling to crawl into her cramped bunk, she pulled on a sweater and her jacket and took a second bottle of beer with her up to the deck. Within a few moments, she was shivering. She had packed with the island weather in mind, which, Carling had informed her, was consistently mild. The bottle of beer, while excellent, was chilled, and a frigid wind blew off the Bay and pierced through all of her clothing.