Thorne paused. "The what?"
"The satphone," Arby said. "Didn't Dr. Levine take a satphone with him?"
"How could he?" Thorne said. "You know the smallest satellite phones are the size of a suitcase."
"Yeah, but they don't have to be," Arby said. "You could have made one very small."
"Could I? How?" Despite himself, Thorne was amused by this kid. You had to like him.
"With that VLSI com board that we picked up," Arby said. "The triangular one. It had two Motorola BSN-23 chip arrays, and they're restricted technology developed for the CIA because they allow you to make a - "
Thorne said, interrupting him. "Where did you learn all this? I've warned you about hacking systems - "
"Don't worry, I'm careful," Arby said. "But it's true about the com board, isn't it? You could use it to make a one-pound satphone. So: did you?"
Thorne stared at him for a long time.
"Maybe," he said finally. "What of it?"
Arby grinned. "Cool," he said.
Thorne's small office was located in a corner of the shed. Inside the walls were plastered with blueprints, order forms on clipboards, and three-dimensional cutaway computer drawings, Electronic components, equipment catalogs, and stacks of faxes were scattered across his desk. Thorne rummaged through them, and finally came up with a small gray handheld telephone. "Here we are." He held it up for Arby to see. "Pretty good, huh? Designed it myself."
Kelly said, "It looks just like a cellular phone."
"Yes, but it's not. A cellular phone uses a grid in place. A satellite phone links directly to communication satellites in space. With one of these I can talk anywhere in the world." He dialed swiftly. "Used to be, they needed a three-foot dish. Then it was a one-foot dish. Now no dish at all - just the handset. Not bad, if I say so myself. Let's see if he's answering." He pushed the speakerphone. They heard the call dial through, hissing static.
"Knowing Richard," Thorne said, "he probably just missed his plane, or forgot that he was supposed to be back here today for final approvals. And we're pretty much finished here. When you see we're down to the exterior struts and the upholstery, the fact is, we're done. He's going to hold us up. It's very inconsiderate of him." The phone rang, repeated electronic beeps. "If I can't get through to him, I'll try Sarah Harding."
"Sarah Harding?" Kelly asked, looking up.
Arby said, "Who's Sarah Harding?"
"Only the most famous young animal behaviorist in the world, Arb." Sarah Harding was one of Kelly's personal heroes. Kelly had read every article she could about her. Sarah Harding had been a poor scholarship student at the University of Chicago but now, at thirty-three, she was an assistant professor at Princeton. She was beautiful and independent, a rebel, who went her own way. She had chosen the life of a scientist in the field, living alone in Africa, where she studied lions and hyenas. She was famously tough. Once, when her Land Rover broke down, she walked twenty miles across the savannah all by herself, driving away lions by throwing rocks at them.
In photographs, Sarah was usually posed in shorts and a khaki shirt, with binoculars around her neck, next to a Land Rover. With her short, dark hair and her strong, muscular body, she looked rugged but glamorous at the same time. At least, that was how she appeared to Kelly, who always studied the pictures intently, taking in every detail.
"Never heard of her," Arby said.
Thorne said, "Spending too much time with computers, Arby?"
Arby said, "No." Kelly saw Arby's shoulders hunch, and he sort of withdrew into himself, the way he always did when he felt criticized. Sulky, he said, "Animal behaviorist?"
"That's right," Thorne said. "I know Levine's talked to her several times in the last few weeks. She's helping him with all this equipment, when it finally goes into the field. Or advising him. Or something. Or maybe the connection is with Malcolm. After all, she was in love with Malcolm."
"I don't believe it", Kelly said. "Maybe he was in love with her…"
Thorne looked at her. "You've met her?"
"No. But I know about her."
"I see." Thorne said no more. He could see all the signs of hero worship, and he approved. A girl could do worse than admire Sarah Harding. At least she wasn't an athlete or a rock star. In fact, it was refreshing for a kid to admire somebody who actually tried to advance knowledge.
The phone continued to ring. There was no answer.
"Well, we know Levine's equipment is in order," Thorne said. "Because the call is going through. We know that much."
Arby said, "Can you trace it?"
"Unfortunately, no. And if we keep this up, we'll probably drain the field battery, which means- "
There was a click, and they heard a man's voice, remarkably distinct and clear: "Levine."
"Okay. Good. He's there," Thorne said, nodding. He pushed the button on his handset. "Richard? It's Doc Thorne."