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running his eye casually over the contents. Suddenly the movement
of his head stopped abruptly as he stared hard at something at one
end. His face contorted into a scowl of disbelief.
"What the hell is this supposed to be?" he bellowed. He
straightened up and walked back toward the stove, holding the
offending object out in front of him.
Magendorf shrugged and pulled a face.
"I thought you'd better see it," he offered, then added: "Jomatto
says it was with the rest of that set."
"Jomatto says what?" Zeiblemann's voice rose in pitch as he
glowered first at Magendorf and then back at the object in his
hand. "Oh, for God's sake! The man's supposed to have a bit of
sense. This is a serious scientific expedition. . ." He regarded
the object again, his nostrils quivering with indignation.
"Obviously one of the boys has been playing a silly joke or
something."
It was about the size of a large cigarette pack, not including the
wrist bracelet, and carried on its upper face four windows that
could have been meant for miniature electronic displays. It
suggested a chronometer or calculating aid, or maybe it was both
and other things besides. The back and contents were missing, and
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all that was left was the metal casing, somewhat battered and
dented, but still surprisingly unaffected very much by corrosion.
"There's a funny inscription on the bracelet," Magenclorf said,
rubbing his nose dubiously. "I've never seen characters like it
before."
Zeiblemann sniffed and peered briefly at the lettering.
"Pah! Russian or something." His face had taken on a pinker shade
than even that imparted by the Sudan sun. "Wasting valuable time
with-with dime-store trinkets!" He drew back his arm and hurled the
wrist set high out over the stream. It flashed momentarily in the
sunlight before plummeting down into the mud by the water's edge.
The professor stared after it for a few seconds and then turned
back to Magendorf, his breathing once again normal. Magendorf
extended a mug full of steaming brown liquid.
"Ah, splendid," Zeiblemann said in a suddenly agreeable voice.
"Just the thing." He settled himself into a folding canvas chair
and accepted the proffered mug eagerly. "I'll tell you one thing
that does look interesting, Ruddi," he went on, nodding toward the
table. "That piece of skull in the first tray-number nineteen. Have
you noticed the formation of the brow ridges? Now, it could well be
an example of. .
In the mud by the side of the stream below, the wrist unit rocked
back and forth to the pulsing ripples that every few seconds rose
to disturb the delicate equilibrium of the position into which it
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had fallen. After a while, a rib of sand beneath it was washed away
and it tumbled over into a hollow, where it lodged among the
swirling, muddy water. By nightfall, the lower half of the casing
was already embedded in silt. By the following morning, the hollow
had disappeared. Just one arm of the bracelet remained, standing up
out of the sand below the rippling surface. The arm bore an
inscription, which, if translated, would have read: KORIEL.
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