by Anthology
“Your mother was the lead scientist for ICE, studying how the magic of Christmas spreads throughout the globe,” Langdon said. “She had a theory about the Ether. Do you know what the Ether is?”
“Sure,” I said. “It was this old theory about space. Instead of it being an empty vacuum, some people thought it was full of this invisible thing called Ether that carries sunlight and radio waves and stuff like that, sort of like water for space.”
“Right,” he said. “People still do believe in the Ether, though it’s become more complex. Your mother believed that the Ether carried signals, including human emotions, around the globe. During Christmas, the Ether was responsible for transmitting good will and cheer to every man and woman, reinforcing the beauty and happiness in the world. She felt that Christmas was what kept the world from blowing itself up every year, and that it was incredibly dangerous to talk about altering the way we believed in and went about celebrating Christmas.”
“Hold on,” I said, trying to wrap my head around this. “My mom thought Christmas saved the world every year?”
“Yes, more or less.”
“So why would the Syndicate want to change that?”
“Ah, well. They don’t believe that. They think that ICE is an evil empire and they want to liberate the world from us.” He laughed. “Little do they know that we’re what stands between man and total destruction.”
I skimmed the pages, trying to take this in. I couldn’t say that I believed this craziness about the Ether and saving the world at Christmas, but it was clear that my mother had worked for a group called ICE. There were pictures of her wearing official lab coats with the ICE symbol embroidered on the chest.
Slowly I closed the file, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths. This was almost too much to handle, and I didn’t know how I felt about any of it. Obviously I thought Langdon was gorgeous and handsome and cocky and totally insane, but there seemed to be some truth to what he was saying. My mother had worked for this company at any rate, although I had no idea what they actually did. I still didn’t, although he tried to explain. It seemed that ICE ran Christmas and made sure that it happened the right way every year, and that the Syndicate wanted to destroy them and take the control of Christmas away from them for their own personal gains.
I had no clue how any of this could work, but there was one thing that I knew. My mother had somehow been involved with them, and I wanted to know more about her. Maybe I didn’t believe in this whacko story he was telling me, but maybe I could get more information about her from Langdon. Maybe I could come to understand her a little bit better, and maybe even understand myself in the process.
“What do you want from me?”
He shot me a dazzling smile. “I’m glad you asked,” he said, and went to get another file from his briefcase.
Chapter 8
The Manuscript
“I told you that the Syndicate wants to use you against us,” he said.
“Sure. But you’re the first person to ever tell me about this stuff.”
“They need something else first, something very important.” He put another folder in front of me and I flipped it open. Instantly I recognized the photograph.
“It’s the tattoo my mom had,” I said.
“Right,” he answered, with a big smile on his face. “That’s the Manuscript of Saint Nicholas, a very old and very ancient book. We thought it had been lost forever.”
“What is it?”
“We’re not sure,” he admitted. “Some old writings about it survive, and it seems to have been part biblical commentary, part scholarly work, and part journal. Apparently, he wrote extensively about his dalliances with women and about his children.”
I nodded. “So it proves that I could exist.”
“Exactly. That manuscript, combined with DNA from certain relics connected with Saint Nicholas, could prove that he wasn’t a saint at all.”
“Why defend him? Clearly it’s all true.”
“Yes, that’s a good question.” Langdon sighed. “We’ve discussed this a lot in the ICE. Some among us sympathize with the Syndicate in some respects. The truth is, it doesn’t matter that Saint Nicholas wasn’t so perfect. Christmas has taken on a life of its own, become a beautiful and incredible thing for all people. It transcends space and time. We can’t risk tarnishing Christmas and taking away joy from people all over the world.”
“So you’re protecting it by lying.”
“Something like that. We’re letting people having their joy. It doesn’t matter if Nicholas was a good guy or not, not anymore. But it does matter if Christmas is destroyed.”
“Okay, I think I understand,” I said. “The Syndicate wants to use me as a figurehead against Christmas.”
“Exactly,” he said.
“So what do you want, then?”
He seemed surprised. “Nothing,” he said.
“You can’t want nothing.”
“I want to keep the Syndicate from you. And to get that manuscript before they do.”
Suddenly, it clicked for me. “Is that why we’re here?”
He laughed, grinning at me. “Very good.”
“You think the manuscript is here, on Aruba?”
“That’s right.”
“So that means the Syndicate is here, too.”
“That’s also right.”
“Do they know we’re here?”
“Oh yeah,” he said, nodding, still grinning.
“Why do you seem so happy about it?”
“Because they’re beyond pissed that I got to you before they did.”
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. I couldn’t believe any of this. It all just seemed too insane and fantastic to really buy it. This international Christmas group or whatever is protecting Christmas because they think it has magic powers to keep the world safe with Christmas cheer. Meanwhile, a shadowy group wants to destroy them and take back Christmas. Both sides somehow want to use me in their war, although Langdon seems to think he’s not really using me at all.
I couldn’t tell what was true. Langdon seemed genuine, very genuine, and he didn’t strike me as an evil person. I didn’t necessarily like that they were keeping the truth about Christmas from people, but I understood that they were doing it to give people something good and wonderful in their lives. ICE was protecting joy and happiness and good will, and the Syndicate wanted to take that away.
I sighed to myself. My mother clearly was involved with these people, and maybe she even believed all of this nonsense. Maybe there really was a manuscript by Saint Nicholas hidden somewhere on this island.
“I’ll help you,” I said finally.
“I knew you would,” he said, leaning toward me, a look of exultation on his face.
“But not unconditionally.”
“Okay,” he said, nodding. “What’s your condition?”
“I want the truth from you. Don’t hide anything from me, don’t lie to me. Don’t trick me into going on a vacation just to try to enlist me in some crazy conspiracy theory.”
“Promise,” he said, nodding.
“And I want to know more about my mother.”
“I can do that, too.”
“Everything you know about her.”
“I didn’t meet her personally. But I can give you all of the materials we have on her, plus connect you with people that did know her personally.”
“Good.” I nodded to myself. “Okay. What do we do next?”
He grinned. “Do you like Indiana Jones?”
Chapter 9
I Don’t Look Good In Hats But I Sure Do Love Whips
The Jeep bounced and jostled as we drove off road through an area forested with short, scrubby trees. Apparently Aruba was extremely arid and windy, which meant not a lot of large plant life grew up tall. There were no thick, lush forests like on other islands. There were palm trees, of course, but the trees were mostly these evergreen-looking things with short trunks and windswept tops, evolved to
adapt to the windy conditions on the coasts.
I had to admit, Langdon did look a little bit like Harrison Ford. He wore jeans, a white oxford shirt, a leather jacket, and he had a gun strapped to a holster at his side. He looked nothing like Indiana Jones, but then again, he wasn’t an archaeologist, either.
“Why would an old saint’s manuscript end up on Aruba?” I asked Langdon.
“Obviously he never visited here,” Langdon said. “What do you know about Aruba?”
“Not much. It’s very beautiful.”
“It is,” he agreed. “It’s also a Dutch island.”
“Really?”
“Yep,” he said. “Owned by the Netherlands and a part of the Kingdom of the Netherlands. The people here speak Dutch, English, and Spanish mostly. It was first colonized by Spain and then by the Dutch a little over a hundred years later. It passed between the Dutch and the British before ending up back with the Dutch until present day.”
“Interesting. All of the islands around here are like that, right?
“More or less. They were all colonized at some point, but a lot of them are free these days. Aruba remains Dutch.”
“What does this have to do with some Greek guy?”
He laughed. “How’d you know he was Greek?”
“A good guess.”
“Well, you’re right, it doesn’t have anything to do with him. After he died, a lot of the Catholics in the area set up his body and resting place as a holy site with sacred relics.”
“His body?” I made a face.
“It was common practice for early Catholics to take pieces of saints and make blessed relics from them. There are thousands of churches all over that claim to have a pinky bone from Saint Thomas or something like that. Anyway, Saint Nicholas’s body was divvied up and eventually stolen away when his original resting place came under attack during the Napoleonic wars. His relics were spread out across the Catholic empire for safekeeping.”
“Including his manuscript,” I said.
“Exactly. His manuscript was sent to the Americas to stay with a fledgling church there, but it didn’t make it. Legend says that the ship was wrecked and the manuscript was lost.”
“But it’s not lost,” I said. “It’s here, on Aruba.”
“Exactly.”
“How did you find it?”
“Lots of hard work,” he said, laughing. “Not me personally, but people pored over historical documents, including letters from pirates in the area. We’re almost certain we know where the manuscript is, and it’s right here on this island.”
“And we’re going to go get it.”
“That’s the plan.”
The Jeep continued down a steep slope, heading toward the coast. I could hear the ocean ahead, though my view was constantly blocked by the small scrubby trees that grew all over the place.
I glanced at Langdon and felt something inside of me tighten. I was still pretty sure he was a crazy person, but he was an interesting crazy person at least. He seemed totally harmless, though I was running around Aruba with him on a treasure hunt, which did seem insane of course. But he was so damn handsome and charming, it was easy to believe what he was saying to me.
The Jeep suddenly came to a stop at a clearing. Ahead, I could see the ocean, but it was from a distance. A set of cliffs ringed either side of the coast, with craggy holes jutting down like deep fissures into the earth.
“What’s this?” I asked him.
“This is where we’ll find the manuscript.” He climbed out of the Jeep and began to unload some gear.
I stared ahead at the crevasse-dotted landscape, and witnessed what millions of years of weathering could do to thick rock. It was pitted and jutted from the waves, and I could see caves all over the place. Wind had carved thick runnels all over the place, making the rock look like running water.
Langdon hefted a backpack on and tossed me a roll of rope.
“No way,” I said. “We’re not going down into one of those.”
“We sure are,” he said. “Scared?”
“Scared?” I laughed. “I’m terrified. You didn’t tell me this would be dangerous.”
“We’re hunting for a lost ancient artifact, Anna, of course it’ll be dangerous.” He grinned, coming nearer to me. “Can’t you handle a little danger?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
I bit my lip and looked away. He was so handsome and intense. “Okay. Fine. Let’s go.”
He took the lead, striding out onto the rock face, avoiding the drops in the stone. I followed him for a while as we picked out a way over the rock, passing what little vegetation grew there, until we finally stopped in front of a large crevasse with a long monolith-type rock standing just above it.
“Here,” he said. “We go down here.”
I walked to the edge and peered in. Below, I could see water rising and falling.
“How?” I asked.
But he was already hammering in some spikes and setting up the ropes.
“No way,” I said. “I’m not doing this.”
“We’ll be fine, relax. I have harnesses.”
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
He grinned. “Trust me. I do.”
“How do you know this is the spot, anyway?”
“Go take a look at that rock while I finish up.”
I frowned, then nodded. I walked to the right, skirting the entrance to the cave and then hopped over the place where the gap was thinnest. I went back around toward the monolith.
As I got closer, my breath caught in my throat. I realized, astonished, that there was something very, very familiar carved into the rock.
Chapter 10
When You Said You Wanted Me To Go Down, This Is Not What I Had In Mind
My mother’s tattoo stared back at me, carved into the worn rock.
“How did you know this was here?” I called out to him.
“We had some local contacts in the area scout this place,” he called back. “They sent us pictures of that.”
“I guess this is how you know this is the right spot.”
“It’s a pretty big clue.”
I laughed. “Jesus, Langdon. Is this all for real? You’re really not insane?”
He looked at me, grinning. “Oh, I’m a little insane. But this is all for real.”
I shook my head and turned back to the symbol. It was carved into a large piece of rock maybe seven feet tall and three feet wide. It was clearly not natural, since everything else in the area was flat and windswept, but it was still fairly old. I couldn’t tell how old, but the carving was pretty weathered, and the edges were all rounded. I looked closer and noted that there was writing underneath the book, but I couldn’t read it or even recognize the language.
“What’s it say under here?”
Langdon laughed. “In a local dialect of Dutch, it says, ‘Pirates. Turn back.’”
“Crazy,” I said softly to myself.
“Come on, it’s ready,” he said.
I nodded, took a deep breath, and went back around the rift. Once on the other side, Langdon fitted me into a harness. It felt like a big, oversized diaper, but he got very close to me as he put it on.
“Now,” he said. “That feels okay?”
I nodded. “A little loose here, though.”
He took my hips and spun me, testing the harness before adjusting it. I felt myself blushing as he touched me, but pushed that to the back of my mind. I recalled his proposition on the airplane, but decided that he was just drunk or something when he'd said it.
Once he finished fitting me, he explained how we’d rappel down into the breach. It was actually pretty straightforward, and he showed me how the rope slid through a pulley system on the harness, and how I could control it myself with a handbrake.
“So, you just squeeze here, like this.” He demonstrated the brake. “It’ll slow your descent. I’d keep it squeezed and just sl
owly drop down if I were you.”
“Got it,” I said. I stared at the harness and at Langdon, trying not to let on how truly terrified I was.
“Listen, you’ll be fine. I’ll go first and you follow.”
“Okay.”
“Anna.” He gripped my shoulders and looked into my eyes. “If you drop down here with me, you’ll be entering into something more exciting than you could ever guess. Be brave like your mother was.”
I looked at him for a second, completely entranced, and then looked away. He released me and walked over to the edge without another word. He snaked the rope through the harness, walked to the lip, and then slowly dropped over.
He disappeared over the side. I walked across and carefully looked over the rim, watching him carefully and competently descend. It took him only a few seconds to reach the bottom, but he disappeared from sight before he got there. All I could see were the waves washing up through the tunnel.
“Langdon?” I called down.
For a second, there was no answer. For a second, I thought he had drowned.
“Come on, Anna,” he called back. “There’s a ledge straight down. I’m fine.”
I took a sharp breath and looked at the rope.
“Just like I showed you!” he yelled. “Go ahead. You can do it.”
I picked up the rope, testing its weight in my hand.
If I did this, if I risked my life, then I’d be entering into something I didn’t really understand. Langdon said it would be a great adventure, but I wasn’t so sure. I was afraid it would be more like a horror show with a crazy man. That might be a little unfair, but so far I had no reason to think any differently. True, Langdon had proof for what he said and information about my mother, but there were still so many unanswered questions.
This was my chance. I could turn back, take the Jeep, and leave him. I could send someone else to pick him up once I made it back to the hotel. He would be fine, and I would be away from this insanity.
But the way he looked at me, nearly touched me, and the mystery were all too much. I couldn’t turn my back on this. I finally had a man that seemed to believe in me, and a purpose to my existence. I wanted more out of life, and this was my opportunity to finally break the mold and do something I never did before.