He wandered around the seemingly endless rows of electronic equipment and computer hardware until he found a man sitting cross-legged on the tiled floor contemplating a miniature tape recorder dissected from a large kangaroo doll.

"Does it sing 'Waltzing Matilda' off-key," Pitt asked.

"How'd you know?"

"A lucky guess."

Hiram Yaeger looked up and grinned. He had a droll face with straight blond hair tied in a ponytail. His beard, curled in long ringlets, looked as if he had borrowed it from a costume rental. He peered through a pair of granny spectacles and was dressed like a down-and-out rodeo performer in old Levi's and boots a bag lady would throw away.

Sandecker had pirated Yaeger away from a computer-design company in California's Silicon Valley and had given him free reign to create NUMA's data complex from scratch. It was a perfect mamage between human gemus and central processing unit. Yaeger supervised a vast library of information containing every known report and book written about the world's oceans.

Yaeger studied the doll's recording and speaker unit with a critical eye. "I could have designed a better system than this with kitchen utensils."

"Can you fix it?"

"Probably not."

Pitt shook his head and gestured around the computer complex. "You set up all this but can't repair a simple cassette player?"

"My heart isn't in it." Yaeger rose, walked into an office and stood the stuffed kangaroo on one corner of his desk.

"Maybe someday when I'm inspired I'll modify it into a talking lamp."

Pitt followed him and closed the door. "Feel in the mood for a more exotic project?"

"Along what lines?"

"Research. "

"Lay it on me."

Pitt removed the envelope from his pocket and gave it to Yaeger-NUMA's computer wizard slouched in a chair, opened the envelope flap and withdrew the contents. He rapidly scanned the typed transcript, then read through it again more slowly. After a long silence, he peered over his spectacles at Pitt.

"This from that old ship you found?"

"You know of it?"

"Have to be blind and deaf not to. The story has been all over the newspapers and TV."

Pitt nodded at the papers in Yaeger's hand. "A translation from Latin of the ship's log."

"What do you want from me?"

"Take a look at the page with the map."

Yaeger held it up and studied the uniabeled lines. "You want me to make a match with a known geographical location?"

"If you can," Pitt acknowledged.

"Not a hell of a lot to go on. What is it?"

"An ocean shoreline and a river."

"When was it drawn?"

"A.D. 391."

Yaeger gave Pitt a bemused look. "You might as well ask me to name the streets of Atlantis."

"Program your electronic playmates for a projection of the ship's course after the fleet left Cartagena. You might also try working backwards from the shipwreck site in Greenland. I've included the position."

"You realize this river may not exist any more."

"The thought entered my mind."

"I'll need authorization from the Admiral."

"You'll get it first thing in the morning."

"All right," Yaeger said glumly- "I'll give it my best shot.

What's my deadline?"

"Just stay with it until you have something," Pitt replied. "I've got to go out of town for a while. I'll check in with you the day after tomorrow to see how you're doing."

"Can I ask a question?"

"Sure."

"Is this really important?"

"Yes," Pitt said slowly, "I think it is. Maybe more important than you and I can ever imagine."

When Pitts father opened the door to his colonial home on Massachusetts Avenue in Bethesda, Maryland, he wore a faded Pair Of khaki Pants and a well-snagged pullover sweater. The Socrates Of the Senate was noted for his expensive and fashionable suits, always embellished with a California golden poppy in the lapel. But out of the public eye he dressed like a rancher camped out on the range.

"Dirk!" he said with pleasure, giving his son a warm bear hug. "I see you too infrequently these days."

Pitt put his arm around the Senator's shoulder, and they walked side by side into a paneled den with rifled bookshelves stretching from floor to ceiling. A fire flickered under an ornate mantel carved from teak.

The Senator motioned his son to a chair and walked behind a wet bar.

"Bombay gin martini with a twist, isn't it?"

"A bit cool for gin. How about a Jack Daniel's straight up."

"Every man to his own poison."

"How's Mom?"

"She's at some highfalutin spa, a fat farm in California on her annual crusade to lose weight. She'll be back day after tomorrow, two pounds heavier."

"She never gives up."

"It keeps her happy."

The Senator passed Pitt a bourbon and then poured himself a port. He raised the glass. "Here's to a fruitful trip to Colorado. "

Pitt didn't drink. "Whose bright idea was it to send me skiing?"

"Mine."

Pitt calmly took a swallow of Jack Daniel's and gave his father a hard stare. "What is your involvement with the Alexandria Library artifacts?"

"Very heavy if they truly exist."

"Are you speaking as a private citizen or a bureaucrat?"

"A patriot."

"All right," Pitt said with a deep sigh. "Fill me in. How are classical art and literary works and the coffin of Alexander so vital to United States interests?"

"None of the above," said the Senator. "The prime meat of the inventory is maps showing geological resources of the ancient world. The lost gold mines of the Pharaohs, the forgotten emerald mines of Cleopatra, the fabled but mystic land of Punt that was famous for its riches of silver, antimony and unusual greenish gold; locations known two and three thousand years ago but buried in the oblivion of time. There was also the fabulous land of Ophir and its recorded wealth of precious minerals. Its location still remains a tantalizing mystery. The mines of King Solomon, Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon, and Sheba, the queen of Saba, whose fabled land today is only a biblical memory. The legendary wealth of the ages still lies hidden under the sands of the Middle East."

"So it's found, so what? How can precious-mineral deposits belonging to other countries concern our government?"

"As bargaining chips," answered the Senator. "If we're able to point the way, negotiations can be opened for joint ventures in the exploitation. We can also make points with national leaders and spread a little badly needed goodwill."

Pitt shook his head and considered. "News to me Congress has turned to prospecting for good foreign relations. Must be more to this than meets the eye."

The Senator nodded, marveling at his son's insight. "There is. Are you familiar with the term 'stratigraphic trap'?"

"I should be." Pitt smiled. "I found one in the Labrador Sea off Quebec Province a few years ago."

"Yes, the Doodlebug project. I remember."

"A stratigraphic trap is one of the toughest oi'l deposits to discover.