“And so the data in that backpack,” Roger continued Ben’s thoughts for him, “might contain the only record of the location of Nomad thirty years ago. Which might be the only way to calculate its trajectory accurately.”
Even with Gaia and Earth-based observatories, they would only be able to get an approximate location of Nomad as it got closer. Once it reached the Sun, radiation from solar eruptions would cripple any observatories and satellites. Scientists might be able to pinpoint a location of Nomad, but to get its exact trajectory, they’d need a long axis point.
Ben turned to Roger and smiled. “Exactly.” He turned to the castle wall, banged on the wooden door, and searched for a buzzer or button. Nothing. He slapped the wooden door again. “Celeste! Celeste, are you there?”
Looking around, he found a staircase that led down. Jumping down the stairs, he saw that it led into a half-basement of poured concrete with no doors. Maybe he’d have to climb the walls. He dropped his backpack into a dark corner of the cellar for safe-keeping and jogged back up the stairs. The place looked abandoned. A sinking feeling settled into Ben’s gut. They'd better be here.
“Hello?”
Ben spun around. A man stood beside Roger, smiling. Roger shrugged.
“Ah, this is Castello Ruspoli, yes?” Ben asked.
“Yes, it is,” the man replied in very good English.
“I’m looking for Celestina Tosetti and Jessica Rollins,” Ben added.
The man nodded, still smiling. “And you are…?”
“I’m Jessica’s father, Ben Rollins…I’m Celeste’s husband.” Ben wagged his head. “Or, well, we’re separated…and this is Roger, my student.”
“A pleasure,” the man replied.
Ben frowned. “Are they here?”
The man paused, squinted. “Yes, yes, of course.”
32
ISOLA GIGLI, ITALY
BARE ROCK WALLS supported rough-hewn beams, the room empty except for a metal-framed cot covered with a gray blanket. Jess paced around the room, not more than ten foot square, stopping to hammer on the wooden door again. “Let me OUT!” she screamed, her fist raw and red.
Still no response.
A prisoner in a castle for a second time this week. Italy was getting on her nerves.
She circled the room, limping on the awkward prosthetic. Goddamn thing, it scraped her stump on every step. A single window mercifully let in some fresh air. The window was open with no bars or restraints, about two feet wide and three high. It didn’t need bars. She stopped to look out—she could easily squirm through, but a fifty-foot sheer cliff of stone and brick sloped away beneath it. Below that, a guard stood watch, almost directly below her window.
Peering left and right, she estimated the island was half a mile long, a craggy rock rising up from a base of stone and sand. The whine of an engine. Looking down, she saw a man with a rifle slung over his shoulder pull up on a dirt bike. He chatted with the guard stationed below her. Doing the rounds. The engine whined again, and the man wound his way down a zigzag trail, through the trees near the water and out onto the dock. He parked the bike and got onto the fishing boat.
Jess watched the boat pull away from the dock, water churning behind it. On the way in, she watched for any other boats. There was just the one dock. The rest of the island was jagged rocks into the water. She looked at the boat pulling across the water, watched the sandy bottom refract through the waves.
She craned her neck further out of the window. The sun was low on the horizon. Past seven o’clock. She looked back at the dock. It should be high tide. Squinting, she could just make out the rocks, seaweed hanging off their tops. At least two or three feet below the high tide line.
So her father’s timing was right.
A knock on the door.
Jess pulled her head inside.
The door opened and Enzo walked in, a grin spread from ear to ear. “Ms. Jessica, I must apologize for the accommodations, and for our—”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jess sputtered. “Look, I’m sorry about not telling you about Nomad, about hiding it—”
“This has nothing to with that.” Enzo raised both hands and wiped his eyebrows, adjusted his pork pie hat. “As I was trying to say, I never meant for Antonio to hurt you or steal your leg in Rome. And I apologize for the room here. We had to remove everything, after hearing how…violent you can be.”
Jess stared at Enzo, her emotions unbalanced, unsure of how to react.
Why was he apologizing? Enzo never struck her as very intelligent. This wasn’t making any sense. Was this just a kidnapping scheme gone sideways?
“Is this about money? Giovanni has gold, in the castle.” She pointed out the window. “I know you don’t believe me, but something terrible is about to happen, destruction you can’t imagine will kill us all in a few hours.”
Enzo took a step toward her. “You are right, a terrible thing has happened, and I am fixing it.”
“Fixing it?” Jess’s bewilderment rose with her eyebrows. “Why did you follow me? Attack me in Rome?”