"Can't the oil formula be duplicated?"

"Formula, yes. Process, no. There is no way of repeating the exact production process."

"I assume he protected himself with patents."

Kelly nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes. He and Josh Thomas were awarded at least thirty-two patents on the engine design."

"What about the oil formula?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "He preferred to keep that to himself. He didn't even trust the Patent Office."

"Dr. Egan could have become an enormously wealthy man by working out royalty agreements on his oil and engine."

Kelly shrugged. "Like you, Dad did not walk the same road as other men. He wanted the world to benefit from his discovery, and he was prepared to give it away. Besides, he was already busy on something else. He told me that he was working on an even greater project, something that would cause an unbelievable impact on the future."

"Did he ever tell you what it was?"

"No," she answered. "He was very secretive, and said it was better that I didn't know."

"A sobering thought," said Pitt. "He wanted to protect you from whoever was desperate to gain his secrets."

A sad, forlorn look came into Kelly's eyes. "Dad and I were never very close after Mom died. He was basically a good and caring father, but his work came first and he was always lost in it. I think he invited me along on the maiden voyage of the Emerald Dolphin as a way of bringing us closer together."

Pitt sat thoughtfully quiet for nearly a minute. Then he nodded toward the leather case. "Don't you think it's time you opened it?"

She held her hands over her face, hiding her confusion. "I want to," she said hesitantly, "but I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what?" he asked quietly.

She flushed, not from embarrassment, but more from an apprehension of what she might find inside. "I don't know."

"If you're afraid I'm an evildoer out to abscond with your father's precious papers, you can forget it. I'll sit comfortably across the room while you peek inside with the lid up so I won't see anything."

Suddenly, it all seemed so ludicrous to her. She held the leather case on her lap and giggled softly. "You know, I don't have the foggiest idea what's inside. For all I know, it's Dad's laundry or notepads of his undecipherable scribbles."

"Then it won't hurt to look."

She sat there hesitating for a long moment. Then very slowly, as if she were opening a canister holding one of those pop-up clowns, she clicked the latches and lifted the lid.

"Oh, good lord!" she gasped.

Pitt sat up. "What is it?"

As if in slow motion, she turned the case around and let it fall from her hands to the deck. "I don't understand," she whispered. "It's never been out of my hands."

Pitt leaned down and peered inside the leather case.

It was empty.

Two hundred miles out of Wellington, the meteorological instruments predicted calm seas and clear skies for the next four days. Now that Deep Encounter was no longer in any immediate danger of flooding and sinking, Captain Nevins ordered his containership to pass ahead and reach port as quickly as possible. The sooner the Earl of Wattlesfield reached Wellington, the better. With two thousand unexpected passengers on board, food supplies were critically low.