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"Was it valuable?" Scotty asked.
"More than valuable. It is irreplaceable. In terms of cash, however, the value is around a quarter of a million dollars."
Rick whistled. "No wonder the guards watched us this morning."
Dr. Kerama called, "Hakim, can you help with these tracings, please?"
Farid joined the other scientists, leaving the boys to their own devices. Rick hunted until he found a space under an amplifier that was big enough for the two extra kittens. The space was covered by an access door. The kittens would be safe there. It would be no real loss if they were stolen, anyway.
Later, the boys helped check circuits while the radio telescope swung through a variety of arcs, with Farid at the controls. The strange signal came while the telescope was pointing only in one direction.
Rick asked Winston, "Could it really be coming from a single source in outer space?"
Winston shrugged. "We've thought of that. If the source remained fixed, we'd accept it as the most logical explanation. But since Kerama and Farid first noticed the signal it has shifted its apparent location by many degrees. That's why we think it must have some local explanation."
Rick understood. The sources in space studied by the radio telescopes were fixed, in the same sense that the stars themselves were fixed. Of course everything in the galaxy even in the universe was in motion, but in spite of the enormous velocities, the change in location would not be particularly apparent in a short time, or even in a lifetime.
A short distance away was a wonderful example of this kind of motion. In the great pyramid of Khufu, Rick had read, a channel had been left so the light of the North Star could shine on the altar of Isis. The channel was still there. But in over three thousand years the slight, slow wobbling of the earth on its axis had caused a shift. What was then the North Star was now Thuban, in the constellation of Draco the Dragon. The present North Star, Polaris, which is not exactly at the celestial north pole, did not shine on the altar. Nor would the next star to become the northern marker bright Vega. But if the pyramids were still standing after twenty-seven thousand years had passed, the cycle of movement would be complete, and Thuban would again shine through the channel to the altar of a forgotten Egyptian goddess.
It gave Rick a shiver to think about it. Even now, the pyramids were old enough to have seen a change of north stars. They looked good for another three thousand years or more. It would take a lot of time to erode away that much massive stone.
Then he stopped thinking about it, because the telescope was in motion again, and there was work to be done.
It was late night before the scientists were satisfied. The boys rode back with Hassan, very thoughtful about the day's events. Now they had both the little statue and the even greater mystery of the space signals to think about.
Clearly, the strange signal was not of local origin. The scientists rejected the idea that it came from trouble in the circuit. But it was no natural heavenly object. What was it?
Tomorrow, Winston had said, they would decide on the next step. Right now all hands were too tired to think clearly. The boys agreed that the statement applied to them.
"Shall we eat?" Rick asked as they approached the hotel.
"Let's have a sandwich sent up," Scotty suggested. "I don't feel like waiting
in a dining room, even if one is open this late."
"Good idea." Rick leaned forward and told Hassan, "Just drop us off, then go on home and get some rest."
"Not tired," Hassan said cheerfully. "You work, I rest."
They certainly were not working Hassan very hard, Rick agreed. But he was pleasant to have around. They bade him good night in front of the hotel and went for their room key. The clerk handed Rick an envelope along with it. It was addressed to Mr. R. Brant, care of the hotel, and the return address was in Arabic.
Rick waited until they were in their room to open it. A quick glance showed that the room had not been searched, or if it had, with greater care than the last time. He ripped open the envelope and took out a sheet of paper, the letterhead printed in Arabic except for the name Fuad Moustafa.
"Fuad Moustafa," he said aloud. "Any relation to Ali, I wonder?"
"Read it," Scotty urged.
Rick did so. "'Dear Sir: You have brought to Cairo, I believe, a plastic replica of a cat, which was given to you by Mr. Bartouki for delivery to my brother, Ali. I deeply regret the inconvenience caused by your failure to find my brother in his shop. Only today did I learn that his chief clerk, an officious person, had attempted to take delivery of the cat by pretending to be my brother. The clerk shall be discharged for this offensive behavior.
"'Since my brother is absent from the city, on business to Beirut, which was the reason for his absence from the shop, I shall be delighted to serve in his stead. If you will call me, I shall come at your convenience. Or, if you will do me the honor of breaking bread at my home, I shall be at your service. Since my home is also my office, any time that is convenient for you will be my pleasure. Sincerely, Fuad Moustafa.'"