submarine.'
A puzzled look came to Alexander's face. 'What the hell are you talking about?'
'We've read the court of inquiry report on the sinking of Blazek, or NR-1A, whatever you want to call the thing. It specifically mentions you and Holden going to search.'
Alexander gazed at them with a mixture of curiosity and enmity. 'My orders were to proceed to the Weddell Sea, take sonar readings, and be alert for anomalies. I had three passengers on board and was told to accommodate their needs, without question. That's what I did.'
'No submarine?' she asked.
He shook his head. 'Nothin' close.'
'What did you find?' Davis asked.
'Not a damn thing. Spent two weeks freezin' my ass off.'
An oxygen bottle rested beside Alexander's chair. Stephanie wondered about its presence, along with an assortment of medical treatises that lined a bookcase across the room. Alexander didn't appear in poor health, and his breathing seemed normal.
'I don't know anythin' about a submarine,' he repeated. 'I recall, at the time, that one sank in the North Atlantic. And it was Blazek, that's right. I remember. But my mission had nothing to do with that. We were cruisin' the southern Pacific, rerouted to South America, where we picked up those three passengers. Then we headed due south.'
'What was the ice like?' Davis asked.
'Even though it was nearly summertime, that place is tough sailing. Cold as a freezer, bergs everywhere. But one beautiful spot-that I will say.'
'You learned nothing while you were there?' she asked.
'I'm not the one to ask about that.' His countenance had softened, as if he'd concluded they might not be the enemy. 'Those reports you read didn't mention three passengers?'
Davis shook his head. 'Not a word. Only you.'
'Typical friggin' navy.' His face lost its impassive look. 'My orders were to take those three wherever they wanted to go. They went ashore several times, but when they came back they'd say nothin'.'
'Take any gear with them?'
Alexander nodded. 'Cold-water diving suits and tanks. After the fourth time they went ashore, they said we could leave.'
'None of your men went with them?'
Alexander shook his head. 'No way. Not allowed. Those three lieutenants did it all. Whatever that was.'
Stephanie considered the oddity, but in the military strange things occurred on a daily basis. Still, she needed to ask the million-dollar question. 'Who were they?'
She saw consternation grip the old man. 'You know I've never spoken of this before.' He seemed unable to submerge his depression. 'I wanted to be a captain. I deserved it, but the navy disagreed.'
'It was a long time ago,' Davis said. 'There's not much we can do to repair the past.'
She wondered if Davis meant Alexander's situation or his own.
'This must be important,' the old man said.
'Enough that we came here today.'
'One was a guy named Nick Sayers. Another, Herbert Rowland. Both cocky, like most lieutenants.'
She silently agreed.
'And the third?' Davis asked.
'The cockiest of 'em all. I hated that prick. Trouble is he went on and got his captain's bars. Then gold stars. Ramsey was his name. Lang-ford Ramsey.'
TWENTY-ONE
The clouds invite me and a mist summons. The course of the stars hasten me and the winds cause me to fly and lift me upward into heaven. I draw to a wall built of crystal and I am surrounded by tongues of ice. I draw to a temple built of stone and the walls are like a tessellated floor made of stone. Its ceiling is like the path of the stars. Heat generates from the walls, fear covers me, and a trembling takes hold. I fall upon my face and see a lofty throne, its appearance is as crystalline as the shining sun. The High Adviser sits and his raiment shines more brightly than the sun and is whiter than any snow. The High Adviser says to me, 'Einhard, thou scribe of righteousness, approach hither and hear my voice.' He speaks to me in my language, which is surprising. 'As He hath created and given to man the power of understanding the word of wisdom, so hath He created me also. Welcome to our land. I am told you are a man of learning. If that be so then you can see the secrets of the winds, how they are divided to blow over the earth, and the secrets of the clouds and dew. We can teach you of the sun and moon, whence they proceed and whither they come again, and their glorious return, and how one is superior to the other, and their stately orbit, and how they do not leave their orbit, and they add nothing to their orbit and they take nothing from it, and they keep faith with each other in accordance with the oath by which they are bound together.'
Malone listened as Christl translated the Latin text, then asked, 'That was written when?'
'Between 814, when Charlemagne died, and 840, when Einhard died.'
'That's impossible. It talks of orbits of the sun and moon and how they're bound to each other. Those astronomical concepts had yet to be developed. Those would have been heresy then.'
'I agree, for men living in western Europe. But for men living elsewhere on this planet, who were not constricted by the church, the situation was different.'
He was still skeptical.
'Let me place this in a historical context,' she said. 'Charlemagne's two elder sons both died before him. His third son, Louis the Pious, inherited the Carolingian empire. Louis' sons fought with their father, and among themselves. Einhard served Louis faithfully, as he'd served Charlemagne, but was so sickened by the infighting that he withdrew from court and spent the rest of his days at an abbey Charlemagne had given him. It was during this time that he wrote his biography of Charlemagne and'-she held up the ancient tome-'this book.'
'Recounting a great journey?' he asked.
She nodded.
'Who's to say that's real? Sounds like pure fantasy.'
She shook her head. 'His Life of Charlemagne is one of the most renowned works of all time. Still in print today. He was not known for crafting fiction, and he went to a great deal of trouble to conceal these words.'
He still wasn't convinced.
'We know a lot about Charlemagne's deeds,' she said, 'but little about his inner beliefs. Nothing reliable describing those has survived. We do know that he loved ancient histories and epics. Before his time, myths were preserved orally. He was the first to order them written down. We know Einhard supervised that effort. But Louis, after inheriting the throne, destroyed all of those texts for their pagan content. The destruction of those writings would have disgusted Einhard, so he made sure this book survived.'
'By writing it partially in a language no one could understand?'
'Something like that.'
'I've read accounts that say Einhard may not have even written his Charlemagne biography. Nobody knows anything for sure.'
'Mr. Malone-'
'Why don't you call me Cotton? You're making me feel old.'
'Interesting name.'
'I like it.'
She smiled. 'I can explain all of this in much more detail. My grandfather and father spent years researching. There are things I need to show you, things I need to explain. Once you see and hear those, I think you'll agree that our fathers did not die in vain.'
Though her eyes suggested a readiness to take on all his arguments, she was playing her trump card and they
