“I apologize, sir. It won’t happen again. In my own defense, I acted with your best interests at heart. I didn’t wish to disturb you when I know how much you need your rest.”
The diviner scarcely heard him. “I’m beginning to wonder if you’re worthy of the trust I’ve placed in you.”
Joshua sensed his position was eroding. He sat forward tensely. “You must believe me, Father. Your well-being is my greatest concern. If you’ll recall, I even saved your life not too long ago. Was that the action of an untrustworthy man?”
“You did save me, didn’t you?” The diviner’s eyes narrowed briefly. “Thank you for reminding me of that fact.”
Despite his father’s conciliatory statement, the spymaster couldn’t quell the sense that he was still in danger.
“Henceforth, I am to be informed if something as small as a squirrel manages to crawl over the fence. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir. Perfectly clear.”
Abraham searched his son’s face for several more moments.
Joshua fought an overwhelming urge to squirm in his chair.
Finally, the diviner turned his attention to the sheet of paper he’d been perusing earlier. Without preamble, he said, “I want you to set up a taskforce for me.”
“A taskforce?” Joshua repeated, relieved to be off the subject of his transgressions.
“Yes. Here is a list of the compounds I’ve selected. There are fifty of them from all around the world.” He handed the sheet of paper to his son.
The spymaster glanced briefly at the list and then back at his father.
“You are to evaluate the Order of Argus operatives at each of those locations. Pick out the best three in each compound. I want men who are fearless and will obey orders without question.”
“For what purpose, sir?”
“They are to act as my emissaries.” Abraham allowed the corners of his mouth to twitch into a secret smile. “They will carry a message to the Fallen on my behalf.”
“And what might that message be?” Joshua felt a sense of dread growing in the pit of his stomach.
“The message isn’t your concern. At least not today, it isn’t. Your task is simply to choose the best of the best at each of these compounds. One hundred and fifty men in all. Bring their names to me. That’s all you need to know at present.” Abraham waved him away. “You may go.”
Joshua rose and took his leave. He couldn’t help feeling that he had been dismissed from his father’s confidence as well as his office. He desperately needed to find a way back in.
Chapter 21—Mother and Sun
“It isn’t much farther. We’re almost there.”
Cassie glanced out of the car window. The blue pacific lay on one side. On the other lay homes perched on hillsides along a narrow road which wound steadily upward. Their destination was an archaeological site on Japan’s northernmost island of Hokkaido. Their driver was the Jomon trove keeper, Kenji Takahashi, or “Ken” for short. An affable middle-aged man raised in Hawaii, he bore an accent as American as apple pie. Although Cassie and Griffin had originally contacted him to help search Sakhalin Island, he requested their aid with a conundrum related to his own trove first. As he put it, “they were going to be in the neighborhood anyway.” Consequently, the Arkana agents and their Nephilim associate boarded a plane from Chicago to Hakodate—a city on the southern tip of Hokkaido. They’d arrived the previous evening which, thankfully, had given them one night to recuperate from the twenty-hour flight.
Cassie brought her attention back to the present moment when the car came to a stop in a gravel parking lot. Through the windshield, she could see a green meadow on a hill overlooking the ocean. It contained a few oddly-shaped wooden structures and several open pits.
“This is it,” the trove keeper announced.
Everyone climbed out of the compact car. Both Griffin and Daniel took time to stretch even though the ride had lasted less than an hour.
“Well, what do you think?” Ken asked the group, gesturing toward the hillside.
“What do we think?” Cassie repeated. She shielded her eyes against the glare of the morning sun. “That depends. What are we looking at?”
“Sorry.” The trove keeper chuckled. “I suppose a recap is in order.” He motioned for the trio to follow him past the wooden fence that marked the boundary of the property. “This is Ofune, one of the largest Jomon settlement sites on Hokkaido. I thought it would be a good starting point for your visit.”
“I’ve never heard of the Jomon culture,” Daniel admitted.
“They were a fascinating people,” Griffin said as they ambled past the fence. “Their pottery is exquisite, far more advanced than anything else on the planet for its time.” He turned to Ken for verification. “Their earliest remains date from 18,000 years ago, yes?”
“That’s right. Their culture flourished uninterrupted between 16500 BCE and 300 BCE. Sherds of their pottery date from 14000 BCE, making it the oldest known earthenware in the world. The Jomon didn’t use a wheel to shape their crockery. It was all done by hand. They pressed pieces of cord into wet clay to make designs. The word ‘Jomon’ means ‘rope-patterned.’ These pottery-makers are thought to have been the earliest inhabitants of Japan. Of course, they didn’t resemble the modern Japanese. Their maternal DNA indicates an origin in Siberia which means their skins were pale, their eyelids had double folds, and the men grew full beards. The closest living remnants of their genetic traits are found among the Ainu who look remarkably Caucasian for an indigenous people.”
The pythia’s eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the trove keeper’s light complexion and neatly-trimmed beard. “You kind of fit that profile too.”
“Some of my ancestors were Ainu,” Ken disclosed. “Siberian DNA is a mixture of Caucasian and East Asian. Geneticists used to think that the Caucasian and East Asian races developed independently at the same time. More recent gene research shows a hybrid race in between. It seems the
