The Uluru Code

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It couldn't be coincidence.

At least that's what Robert Mathews told himself.

He peered over the top of his theodolite with suspicion, rechecked his position, and then looked through the instrument again.

"That doesn't belong there," Robert said under his breath.

A tall, lanky black man stood nearby with arms crossed, watching curiously. His name was Charley, and he'd been assisting Mathews with his research. At present, he was trying to understand what had the anthropologist so befuddled.

Mathews craned his neck to make sure his angle was right and then stood up straight. He turned to Charley, who'd taken off his wide-brimmed hat and was wiping sweat from his forehead. Even though Charley was an Aborigine and had lived in the area his whole life, the blazing summer heat was clearly taking its toll.

"What you make of that rock over there, Charley?" Mathews asked in his sharp Aussie accent.

Charley shrugged. "Looks like a rock, Bob."

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