“They are substantially different, obviously,” Sir Neal said gravely.
“Yes, my lord. In every version, the pirates spend one day on the island and leave without incident the same day. Here we see that Praxus spoke with two prisoners they took from the island and remained anchored until the following day, which led to—”
“I appreciate the difference, Signor Spara,” Sir Neal said, holding up a manicured hand. “The prisoners. The author describes them as a young boy and a cyclops.”
“Oh, ‘cyclops’ does not refer to a person with a single eye. That’s a common misconception people take away from Homer’s Odyssey. It simply means a giant.”
“A giant.”
“Well, anyone of two meters in height would appear to be a giant to people in that time.”
“He says they were Romans, Signor Spara.”
“It is possible. Rome was just beginning to extend its power to the sea in this period. But Romans traveled widely throughout the region in this period.”
“And the other events in this codex, Signor Spara?”
“Those are much harder to explain.”
“I see,” Sir Neal said, and sat back with hands templed before him. He gazed out the port to the clouds drifting past like smoke.
“This is monumental! This will be an earth-shattering revelation in the world of ancient academia!” Andrea’s excitement could no longer be contained.
“No, it will not be a revelation of any kind, signor.” Sir Neal’s eyes met his. All traces of polite suavity were gone from his voice and his eyes.
“But if I were to publish what I’ve found I—” Sir Neal Harnesh held up his hand again.
“You are paid to read only, Signor Spara. Not to write. Certainly not to publish.”
Andrea Spara nodded in agreement. But within him, he felt his heart shrink. To find something so marvelous and be obliged to remain silent would be like torture.
A week later, a tragic and unexplained fire occurred within the antiquities section of the Vatican Apostolic Library. The blaze was contained by the state-of-the-art Halon system installed in the library in the 1990s. The only casualties were an unemployed former associate professor of ancient languages, who died at the scene from smoke inhalation, and a rare Latin manuscript that was entirely consumed in the blaze.
The Vatican’s head librarian, Bibliothecarius XLIX, issued a statement mourning the death of Andrea Spara, a visiting scholar, and regretted the loss of the irreplaceable manuscript penned by a Greek slave in 198 BC. But he assured the public that the manuscript was fully scanned and has been preserved for the ages in digital format.
36
Coming Around
Boats pumped Jimbo with enough antihistamines to make him sleep around the clock. When he woke up in his cabin aboard the Raj, his leg was stiff, but most of the swelling was gone. He uncovered the port to let sunlight lance into his eyes.
Jimbo was dressing when Boats knocked then entered his cabin without invitation.
“We haven’t heard from your friends since I brought you back.”
“Friends?”
“The girl stayed behind with Roenbach.”
“How long?”
“Almost two days now.”
“Shit,” Jimbo said and brushed past Boats.
Jimbo was shaky after the effects of the toxin and the long drug-induced sleep. He grabbed coffee and a cheese sandwich in the galley on his way down to the Tube chamber.
Morris Tauber was speaking to Parviz and Quebat in the chamber. The Tube was powered down. There was a puddle of water on the floor where the icy condensation had run off. A motorized inflatable sat in a corner of the chamber. It was marked with the name of the Ocean Raj down each side.
The discussion was volatile, at least from Morris’ end. The two Iranians remained as calm and reasoned as they always were.
“I’m tired of hearing the reasons you can’t give me juice. I want the power, and I want it now.” The usually passive Morris was raising his voice. He looked like hell, with his hair wild and deep gray rings under his eyes.
“We are restricted to the laws of thermodynamics,” Quebat said purposely.
“If we strain the connections, we risk the entire system,” Parviz said, biting off each word as if he were repeating them for a stubborn child.
“Update me,” Jimbo said, stepping into the circle and gesturing with a sandwich half. The trio turned to him in mild surprise.
“That coffee for me?” Morris said.
“It is now.” Jimbo handed the mug over.
“Caroline insisted, hell, she demanded to go back to bring you to the Raj. I should have known she’d pull a stunt like this.” Morris sank into a chair at the computer array and held the mug in both hands.
Parviz and Quebat took that as a cue to exit the chamber as quickly and quietly as possible.
“And you haven’t heard from them?” Jimbo took the other chair.
“We powered up the Tube last night. We received their last recorded text message. They saw a ship on course for the island. The message was on repeat, and the signal was clear. But no live response to my transmission even though we held the field open for a full thirty minutes. There’s only one reason for that.”
“There’s a million reasons for that, Mo. Maybe they had to move and couldn’t get back to the hide. Maybe there’s a glitch somewhere. It doesn’t have to mean the worst.”
“Boats wanted to go back to find them. I wouldn’t let him go alone,” Morris said and slurped a mouthful of coffee and winced. These Ethiopians made it strong and sweet.
“Good for you. As soon as you can open the field Boats and I will go back together.”
“I’ve been trying to light a fire under those two Persians. But all they do is give me excuses.”
“Look, Mo, I know you’re freaked. Imagine how I feel. I left a man behind, you know? But we’re not in a rush here. I know you’re in a hurry to find out what happened. So am I. But let’s do this right. We
