“We like to take things a bit slower over here,” he joked. “Helps longevity.”
Charlotte cringed.
Bersei worked the mouse again. “Next we’ll ask the computer to assign muscle mass to the skeletal frame. The software will measure every bone to estimate its density and re-create its ligament attachment points.”
She knew the basic concept. “Larger muscles place more stress on the bones they’re attached to, requiring stronger ligaments and connecting points?”
“Quite so. Call it reverse engineering. Granted, the program can’t account for every soft tissue abnormality. But it can detect a skeleton’s structural anomalies. If that happens, the program will attempt to re-create it, or we’ll get an error message. That said, let’s get some muscle on this frame.” He refocused on the screen.
The progress window reappeared:
PLEASE WAIT WHILE YOUR SAMPLE IS PROCESSED.
77% complete...
100% complete.
The screen refreshed.
This time the program had clothed a fibrous weave of lean musculature over the skeletal form. The image was gruesome but anatomically correct—a de-skinned human, the muscles various shades of red, the ligaments a disturbing bluish-white. The man had been extremely well formed and perfectly proportioned.
Charlotte leaned in closer. “Looks very fit,” she said matter-of-factly. “No McDonald’s back then,” he said as he manipulated the mouse. “Or osso bucco for that matter.”
They both laughed.
Settling down, Giovanni looked back at the screen. “Okay, let’s add
some skin here.” He clicked a command.
Almost instantly the screen refreshed again, the 3-D image looking like a Bernini marble sculpture with its smooth “flesh.” The enhanced image omitted all hair, including eyebrows. The eyes were smooth, colorless orbs.
Charlotte was transfixed. Now the study had entered a new realm where an otherwise unnamed, faceless specimen seemed to take on an eerie, lifelike quality. They were bringing these ancient bones back from the dead.
“This is where your DNA analysis will help fill in the blanks,” Bersei continued. “The program accepts genetic information—it re-creates everything from eye and skin color to hair density, hairline, fingernails, body hair, and so on. We can also approximate body fat content within an accurate range. Thus far, I think his most impressive feature is this.” He pointed to the lower right corner of the screen where basic statistics were reported, including one line reading:
HEIGHT (in./cm.): 73.850 / 187.579.
“Extremely tall for his day,” Bersei observed. “Odd. If this man died in the beginning of the first century, he would have really stood out.”
“People were shorter back then, right?”
“It’s a commonly held belief that their nutrition wasn’t adequate. But I wouldn’t give that much credit. Many would argue it was actually better. But even by modern standards this man would turn heads. Your genetic data may help shed light on this.”
“Go in on the face.”
He held the mouse button to drag a white-lined frame around the image and clicked to zoom.
A ghostly form filled the screen, its features well defined, yet soft, with a long sloping nose, full lips, and a strong chin. There was a pronounced jaw line with a firm brow and wide eyes.
Bersei seemed satisfied. “For now this is the program’s best re-creation. He was a handsome devil.”
Charlotte was mesmerized by the haunting features. “I wonder how accurate this is.”
“I’ve used this same program to reconstruct identities on similar skeletons for homicide investigations,” Bersei said in a confident tone, “and it’s always proved very accurate when eventually matched with a victim’s known profile.”
The intercom suddenly came to life. Father Donovan apologized for the interruption, but was patching through a call from a Signore Ciardini.
“Probably our carbon dating results,” Bersei said. “Why don’t you take that call and I’ll continue my work on the ossuary.”
“Sounds good,” she said as she made her way over to the phone.
Bersei returned to his workstation.
Once he had finished removing the powdery dust layer from the bottom of the ossuary, something there caught his eye.
A thin outline.
Grabbing a small brush, he bent closer, dusting the grooves until a rectangular form gradually emerged.
Trading the brush for a small blade, he inserted it along the rectangle’s edge, carefully jimmying under what looked like a metal plate. With the plate removed, a hollowed-out compartment was revealed. Inside were the shadowy forms of three long, tapered objects.
He thought his eyes were playing tricks, and adjusted the overhead lighting. Reaching into the ossuary, he worked his fingers along the compartment. Giovanni sensed metal through the latex as he withdrew one of the objects. It was surprisingly heavy, easily eighteen centimeters long and black as coal with a knobby, blunted end that tapered into a shaft of wrought edges.
A nail.
Placing it on a tray, he stared at it, disbelief flooding back.
