Eric Flint: Boundary

He patted another simple metallic box on his belt. "Give me powerful signal sources, and I'll guarantee to map out anything you want, above or below ground. And in this case, I'll even guarantee that you'll have enough detail to count teeth in a skull."

"Can you keep a record of how you produce the results?" Helen asked.

"Not only can I," A.J. answered, pacing out the area again as though measuring it, "it's pretty much part and parcel of the process-nice alliteration there, huh? I keep the raw data and track the sequence of filtering and analysis, all the way in. I have to-sometimes you don't get the best results and you need to experiment by taking out one step, moving it to another point in the sequence, and so on. It can make a big, big difference in the final results whether you filter first and then run an enhancement process, or enhance first and then filter, for instance. Pillage, then burn, so to speak."

He stopped, nodded to himself, then turned back towards the tents. "Well, it's getting pretty dark out here, but rather than waste time, I'll just get started."

Jackie and Helen held the lights as A.J. unpacked a number of devices with thick, rugged power leads.

As he did so, Helen studied him, a bit surreptitiously. Somewhat to her surprise, she was starting to find the man interesting.

In many ways, A.J. Baker was obviously a classic geek. Who else got that enthusiastic about dry-as-dust technical matter? But the muscles visible in his arms when he hefted the first case-the one that had nearly pulled Helen's shoulder out of its socket-made it clear that A.J. was in far better physical condition than the average geek.

On a personal level, the muscles impressed Helen even less than the flamboyantly awkward geeky mannerisms. But she found the combination rather intriguing. It reminded her of…

Well, herself, actually.

Since Helen didn't have that damnable male ego to deal with- the one that crucified every high school geek in existence-her own mannerisms weren't as awkward as A.J.'s. At least, she hoped not. But she could get just as enthusiastic when discussing paleontological issues, which were often literally as dry as dust. And on the few occasions when she ventured into public gymnasiums for a workout, she usually got admiring looks from all the men present and envious ones from the women. Even from women half her age.

From men half her age, she always got admiring looks. Ogles, often enough, to call things by their right name.

The thought of young men rallied her. Stop this, woman. He must be fifteen years younger than you are.

Thus fortified, Helen went back to studying A.J. from the perspective of an expert in one field watching another at his own. She did her best to ignore the treacherous little voice at the back of her mind, as it worked its way through simple mathematics.

Don't be silly. He's not as young as he looks. Can't be, not even in his cutting-edge field. He's got to be at least twenty-five or twenty-six. Maybe twenty-seven. Subtracted from thirty-eight, that is not fifteen years younger. It's only eleven. Maybe even less.

Shut up.

"Okay, here we got your GPR unit." A.J. held up a wide metallic antenna unit, followed by a cylindrical object that looked like a solid rod of metal but probably wasn't. "And this here's the impactor for seismic signals, some electromagnetic pulsers-keep metal and electronics that aren't shielded well away, folks-and my own shriekers. High-power ultrasonic pulsers."

The "shriekers" were strange things, looking a bit like large versions of the paddles found on a defibrillator unit, but ending with quivering blobs that looked like nothing so much as firm blue jello. They were labeled Kaled 1 and Kaled 2.

"What's that stuff?" Jackie asked, pointing to the blue blobs.

"Couplant gel. The attenuation of the signal through air is something fierce, so you try to use couplant to bring it more directly to the target. I wash the area off with a high-pressure water jet, then push the gel up against the rock. That increases the efficiency by many times. Even so, it'd be just plain useless without the Fairy Dust. You can immerse a sample in liquid and get good results, but in the field you just wouldn't get the penetration needed. With the sensor motes properly programmed and all over the place, and digitized pulses for signature return filtering, I can get results out of returns almost a hundred times weaker than I could with normal sensors."

"Anything else we can do to help?" Helen put in, seeing that he was now laying out his devices in a carefully planned order.

"Yeah," A.J. said. "Go away. Meaning no offense, just that once I start taking the readings the more people and objects in the area, the harder it's going to be for me to compensate for the signals. I have to sit dead still while the data's being gathered, and even so I'll probably be having an effect that I'll notice later."

"No problem, we understand." Helen and Jackie started off. "Let us know when you're done."

"Sure thing," A.J. replied absently, already staring at a display on his VRD unit. "Your problems are just about over."

Eric Flint Ryk E. Spoor

Boundary

"What the hell is that?"

A.J. was taken aback by the vehemence of Helen's question. "Hey, cool down. And why are you asking me? You're the paleontologist. I just image what's there."

Joe shook his head, then bent down to A.J. and spoke quietly. "Look, I don't know what you think you're doing, but cut out the joking and give us the real data."

A.J.'s eyes narrowed. "That is the real data. Top of the line. Imaged in three different spectra, multiple wavelengths, filtered, neural-net-processed, compared with known data for verisimilitude, and data-fused and analyzed out the wazoo. If I wasn't doing this for you and my own entertainment, you'd be paying about a hundred grand for this little job-over and above expenses. That is exactly, precisely, and inarguably what is down there."

"But that's just… impossible," Joe said defensively. He gestured at the projected image before them.

The computer-enhanced graphic showed the entire dig area in three-dimensional, mostly pastel false color. The rock still to be removed was present as an outline, an overlay of faintly gray glass. The fossils of the three raptors were clearly visible, the two newer ones now fully visible in their curved death poses. In addition, two more raptor skeletons were revealed, one on either side of the other three, making a rough three-quarter circle around the perimeter of the dig area. All five skeletons were fully articulated, possibly the finest specimens of Deinonychus ever uncovered- and all of them were sitting on a stippled red and purple layer that was the K-T boundary itself. White dots showed the position of hundreds of the strange pebbles, both around and past the raptor skeletons.

But it was what squatted ominously in the center of the image, in the middle of the rough circle delineated by the fossilized predators, that was the focus of such utter disbelief. It was large-close to four meters long, from end to end-and was as clearly defined as the other skeletons. The problem was…

"That's not even a skeleton," Helen said finally. "I'm not sure what to make of it."

"I thought it was like some kind of squid," A.J. said. "I know there was a lot of squiddage back then. Squids with shells, if I remember right. Ammonites, they were called?"

Joe frowned. "Well, we do have a sort of cephalopodic outline here." He sketched an elongated oval in the air. "Those could be tentacles, sort of. I only see three of them, though. And it looks almost like there are more at the rear."

"A lot shorter, though," Helen pointed out. "And much of the rest looks like it is a skeleton. Well, sort of. Weird though it is, that part here, near the longer, um, tentacles, looks like a skull to me, and it's attached to these other parts. But it's not an ammonite or any kind of shell, that's for damn sure. And what's the segmentation effect we have here? What are those things you're rendering in blue, A.J.? Look like layered armor plates or something."