Landing in the early afternoon, Angela Reed, Leonard Townsend and Joe Rickards all shuffled through the giant aircraft’s interior cabin in a huddled mass of people before narrowing into a single file out and up the ramp, eventually pouring into one of Cairo International Airport’s air-conditioned waiting areas.

Together, they followed more than two hundred accompanying passengers over a quarter mile of marble flooring before descending one floor by escalator to the baggage claim area, where over a thousand other people were packed amongst dozens of baggage carousels.

Finding their corresponding carousel, the three patiently waited for it to come to life.  Angela studied Rickards with a wary expression until he finally turned to her.

“What?”

“What happened on that plane?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“There were emergency vehicles waiting for us and the flight attendant hugged you when we deplaned.”

Rickards watched as Townsend also turned to peer at him.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?!”

He raised both hands.  “What?”

Angela turned to the older Townsend for help.  “Have you ever seen a flight attendant hug someone when leaving the plane?”

Townsend shook his head.

“I helped her when that sick passenger fell down in the back of the plane.”

“Right,” replied Angela, producing a twisted frown, leaving Rickards the opening he needed to change the subject.

“So, Professor, what’s our plan for getting to this glass desert of yours?”

Townsend shrugged.  “You don’t look as if you’ve slept much.  I thought we could all get a good night's sleep and start fresh in the morning.”

Angela nodded, observing with frustration the crowd around them.  “Sounds good to me.”

“We’ll need to call around from the hotel and find a pilot.”

Rickards looked away when the carousel lurched to life, then turned back.  “What?”

“A pilot.”

“A pilot for what?”

“To see the desert.”

“We need a pilot?”

Townsend squinted, bemused, then peered at him earnestly.  “The glass desert is very large, but the land is privately owned.”

“Privately owned?”

“At least it was before, about ten years ago, when I was here with my wife on a group tour.  That’s when we learned about it.  We wanted to go see it, but our guide said it wasn’t allowed.”

Rickards wore a bleak stare.  “We just flew halfway around the world, and we can’t even go there?”

“Sure we can, just not on the ground.  The good news is we’ll be able to see a lot more from the air.”

Rickards glanced at Angela.  “Wow, that is good news.”

“I’m fine with it.”

He looked away and sighed.  “Democracy prevails.”

“Don’t worry,” said Townsend.  “This is a better way to see it.  It’s over a hundred square miles. If there’s something there, we’ll have a much better chance of spotting it from higher up.”

“If what is there?”

“Anything that stands out.” He shrugged.