by Jacob Whaler
“I published that paper twenty-five years ago.” Professor Yamamoto picks up a white piece and holds it between his thumb and index finger. “It was the subject of a formal presentation I made at the International Comparative History Institute in Vienna.” His gaze drifts outside the window to a row of cherry trees.
Wave after wave of cicada buzzing rises to a crescendo and then drops away.
“You never published again on that topic. Why? What happened to your research?”
The professor’s blinks his bloodshot eyes. “After the paper was published, my career never recovered. I learned that some questions are beyond the limits of permissible inquiry. If you transgress those limits, you’ll be punished by being ignored.” The professor lays a white piece next to the other one already on the board.
“But, Professor Yamamoto, you did continue your research, didn’t you.”
“Yes. In secret.”
“Why?” asks Matt. “If it has a negative impact on your career, why don’t you just stop?” He puts a black piece next to the professor’s white one.
“Because I’m drawn to it the same way you are.” Professor Yamamoto’s eyes widen. “When I read the fantastic stories in ancient writings, I can’t help but wonder if they contain a kernel of truth.”
“Exactly,” Matt says. “I remember reading the Mahabharata and the Ramayana, my favorite Indian epics, in college. Golden chariots flying through the air, shooting out rays of intense light.” He spreads his arms out. “Magnificent starships fueled by quicksilver flying for vast distances, going up, down or sideways through the air.” He puts down another black game piece.
“Yes, but of course all that has been dismissed as pure fantasy. Ancient science fiction.” Professor Yamamoto’s hand bats at an unseen bug in the air.
Matt leans in close to the goban board. “Have you studied the Dropa Stones?”
“I’m surprise you’ve even heard about them.” Professor Yamamoto reaches for a white piece to play.
“An article popped up on a public Meshlog last winter, but it was gone within a few minutes. I didn’t have a chance to read it all.”
“The Chinese Meshscrubs automatically remove any mention of the Dropa Stones, like they have for the last twenty years.” Professor Yamamoto pushes away from the table and walks to a bookshelf where he pulls down a thin yellow book, written in English. “Read this if you want to know more.” He drops a white piece onto the board. “Here’s a quick summary. More than a hundred years ago, 716 stone disks, each nine inches in diameter, were dug up from the floor of a cave in the Baian-Kara-Ula mountains along the old border between China and Tibet. The disks were dated to around 10,000 B.C. and were stored at Beijing University for decades. Each stone had a groove with hieroglyphic characters spiraling out from the center. They were all eventually translated, telling the story of visitors from another world.” The professor places another piece on the goban board, completely surrounding one of Matt’s black ones. “My first kill.” He does a quick bow in Matt’s direction and removes the black piece from the board. “According to the record, the visitors came from the sky and stayed with the people for a long time.”
Matt thumbs through the book as Professor Yamamoto talks.
“Sugoi, na.” Matt whispers to himself. “This is incredible.”
“I think it’s probably a hoax. You have to be careful in this area of research.” Professor Yamamoto draws his gaze away from Matt and looks out the window again, running a finger along the line of his jaw. His head dips in a subtle nod, as if he had just made an important internal decision, and then he draws in a sharp breath, holds it and lets it out. “There is one ancient legend that I have pursued for years. We talked about it this morning in the lecture.”
“The Magatama Stone?” Matt looks up.
“Exactly.”
“Can you tell me about it?” Matt’s dark eyes focus on the professor.
“After you make your next move.”
Matt draws a black piece from the pile and drops it on the board.
Professor Yamamoto stands up, walks to the open door and shuts it, pushing the lock in the middle of the doorknob. Then he moves to the open window above his desk and brings it down. “We must be careful. There may be listeners. I have my office scanned for data sniffers on a regular basis, so we are safe with the doors and windows shut.” He sits down in the chair and drops his eyes to the game board. “I assume you already know what is written in the official Japanese mythologies, the Kojiki and the Nihon Shoki.”
“Yes, I studied them back at the university in Colorado.”
“There are many ancient writings about the Magatama Stone and its Holder.” Professor Yamamoto places a white piece on the goban board, entirely enclosing another one of Matt’s black pieces. He reaches out to collect the kill. “Forgive me.”
“You said you had actually seen the Magatama Stone.” Matt looks down at the board as his fingers move along the outside of his pants over the bulge in his pocket. “Can you tell me what it looked like?”
Without a word, Professor Yamamoto walks to the bookcase on the wall behind Matt. The tips of his fingers run along the spines of the old books until his hand stops. He pulls a thick tome off the shelf.
Matt turns and reads the title. The Complete Works of Shakespeare. Right next to Aristotle’s Metaphysics.
Professor Yamamoto walks back to his desk and puts the book down next to the goban board.
“You want me to read Shakespeare?”
The professor laughs. “There is something inside that might interest you. Open it.”
Matt opens the hard front cover. The smell of dust and old paper floats up, and his eyes fall on a faded color photograph that shows a man dressed in the white robes of a Shinto priest. Torn at the edges, it is something one might expect to find in a photo album from the prior century.
As the muffled music of cicadas outside rises and falls in waves, Professor Yamamoto picks up the old photo and hands it to Matt. “It’s never been published. You’re the only person to see it other than me and the Holder.”
“The Holder? What do you mean?” Matt’s eyes drop down to the picture and freeze.
For a moment, the world fades out of existence, and he sits there alone, staring at the Shinto priest’s hand. It holds a claw-shaped rock, light purple. The rest of the photo slips out of focus, and for a time all he can see is the Magatama Stone.
Impossible.
It’s nearly identical to the rock in Matt’s pocket.
CHAPTER 44
“Is something wrong?” The professor’s voice breaks through the bubble around Matt.
As the rest of the world slowly comes back into focus, Matt tries to talk, but his mouth is dry and gravelly. Finally, words come out. “Is this the actual Magatama Stone, the one that’s been handed down through the Imperial House line for thousands of years?”
“Yes. I took the photo myself with an old camera. And I handled the Stone.”
Matt stares again at the photo, thunderstruck, fighting back the urge to reach into his pocket and wrap his fingers around the hard object there.
“Why haven’t you published this?” Matt looks from the photo to Professor Yamamoto and hands it back to him with trembling fingers.
“For several reasons. It would stir up too much controversy. Most people wouldn’t believe it anyway.” Professor Yamamoto puts it back in the book. “But most importantly, the Holder has forbidden it.”
“The Holder?” Matt steals another glance at the old photo. “Doesn’t it belong to the Emperor?”
Professor Yamamoto hesitates, and then shakes his head. “Yes. I mean, no.”
“But you said—”
“I know what I said. The Emperor receives the Stone. And he does, in a manner of speaking.” He fingers a white game piece. “Over the centuries, it was deemed wise to take the Magatama Stone out of the Imperial House for safekeeping. The stone received by the Emperor is a copy of the real one, made from f
ine jade.”
“How did you find it?” Matt stares at Professor Yamamoto.
“You might say that it found me. Your turn, by the way.”
Matt drops a black piece on the goban board, too absorbed in the conversation to care where it lands. “It found you?”
“Yes.” Professor Yamamoto leans back in the chair, causing it to creak. “I did research on the Magatama for many years, spending most of my vacation time making the rounds of old Shinto shrines and pouring over ancient records.” He puts another white piece on the board and looks across the table at Matt. “Most of the Shinto priests cannot read the old writings anymore, so I visited the shrines and offered to translate their records.”
Matt drops a black piece in a random spot on the board. “What did you find?”
“Bits and pieces, anecdotes handed down for more than two millennia.” The professor places a white piece on the board. “Much more than is generally known. Eventually, it led me to the location of the Holder and the real Magatama Stone.”
“Where is it?” The words jump out of Matt’s mouth before he can stop them.
Professor Yamamoto jerks up, eyeing Matt for a time. Then his body relaxes. “I suppose I can tell you. I’ve never told anyone else. Northern Honshu.”
“Can you tell me more about the Magatama Stone itself?” A sudden consuming curiosity overcomes Matt, and he tries to hide it by picking up a black piece and playing it quickly on the board.
“What would you like to know?”
“Is there more than one of the Stones?”
The professor leans forward with both elbows on the table. “Interesting that you would ask. I asked the Holder the same question, and he said it would be better for me not to know. But the old records say yes. In fact, they talk about using one Stone to locate another.”
“Does it ever change colors? Does it bond itself to the Holder so it can’t be taken away?” The words tumble out of Matt’s mouth. “Or discarded?”
Professor Yamamoto reaches for another game piece, but his hand stops in mid-air and moves back slowly. “Unusually perceptive. Yes to both.” His eyes narrow slightly.
“Did the Holder say anything about dreams?” Matt does his best to keep his gaze on the goban board.
“Yes, again. Based on my research, and what the Holder himself told me, the Stone gives its Holder a certain connection.”
“To what?”
“To other levels of reality.” The professor picks up a white piece and drops it down on the goban board alone, in an area away from any of Matt’s pieces.
“Other levels of reality? I don’t understand.”
Professor Yamamoto shakes his head. “Neither do I. Perhaps it is something one must experience to truly know.”
“Sensei, forgive me, but why haven’t you published any of this? You could say it’s a collection of folk myth uncovered in ancient writings discovered at Shinto shrines.” Matt fingers a black piece and puts it on the board. “I think people would find it interesting.”
“Perhaps it’s just fatigue. I’m tired of being laughed at.” Wrinkles appear above the professor’s bushy eyebrows. “But there’s another reason. Both the Holder of the Stone and my benefactor have forbidden that I publish any of my findings.”
“Your benefactor?”
“The corporation I told you about. They’re supporting my research. A few years ago, I ran into a former professor of archeology from Oxford who said he knew of my interest in the Magatama Stone. He said he left academia to work in a large company and offered to support my research. He has been most generous.” Professor Yamamoto lays down another white piece.
“So, you’ve been sending your research to him?” Matt surveys the board and places a black piece in one of the corners.
“Some of it, yes. But not all. I have started to notice that he has an unhealthy interest in learning how to exploit the powers of the Stones. It’s unsettling. If one of the Stones were to fall into the wrong hands, it would result in terrible…” Professor Yamamoto carefully places a white game piece at the end of a line of white stones on the board.
“Terrible what?”
The professor stares down at the goban board as if in silent contemplation. Turning to look out the window, more seconds pass in silence. “Matt, I sense I can trust you to keep my research on the Magatama Stone absolutely secret. I’ll get you started on a legitimate topic, one on which you can publish. Meanwhile, you can have a look at my research on the Magatama in your spare time. Agreed?”
“Honto ni, arigato gozaimasu.” Matt bows his head and feels his pulse quicken in his temples. “Thank you for indulging my selfish request.”
“Listen carefully.” Professor Yamamoto reaches for the Complete Works of Shakespeare and opens it up to the middle. A section of the pages is cut out, allowing space for a clear cube near the spine of the book. He picks up the memory jewel and holds it between his index finger and thumb. “This is where I keep all my research. There’s nothing on the Mesh. Too risky. You can look at it whenever you like, but don’t allow it to leave this office.”
“Understood.”
“In the meantime, how good is your classic Chinese?” Professor Yamamoto drops a white piece on the goban board and motions for Matt to take his turn.
“I can read well enough, but I still have trouble with place names and personal names.” Matt grabs a black piece and puts it down on the board. His hand goes into his pocket and comes out with his jax. “If I get stuck, I’ve always got this.”
“Good. There are some data files under my name at the library. They just came in from a royal burial mound discovered on the outskirts of Guilin in China. I need you to scan the files and look for this.” He hands Matt a handwritten string of Chinese characters. “Let’s hope you read Chinese better than you play Igo.” The professor lays down a white piece, closing a ring around three of Matt’s black pieces, all of which he picks off the board.
CHAPTER 45
Ryzaard’s face goes white when he hears the news. “Are you certain?” He looks down at Jing-wei with flared nostrils and fire in his eyes.
“Yes.” Jing-wei drops the slate onto her lap. “I can assure you that I’ve checked and cross-checked the data at least ten times. There’s no mistake.” She closes her eyes for a long time and waits for Ryzaard to speak.
“How could this happen?” Ryzaard paces back and forth parallel to the window. “A boy accidently finds a Stone, has no idea what it is, flies to Japan and ends up as a research assistant for the only other Stone expert in the world.”
“Yamamoto is not the only other expert.”
“He understands the history and lore better than almost anyone on the planet. He was the one that led us to the other Holder in Northern Honshu.”
“What do you suggest we do?” Jing-wei stands still while Ryzaard paces back and forth.
“There’s only one thing we can do.” Ryzaard stops and picks up the Zeus statue from the desk. “Get the boy away from Yamamoto now. By any means possible. Before the old professor starts talking about the Stones and the kid realizes what he’s found.”
Jing-wei picks up her slate. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Shall I set up a call with Mr. Shinoda?”
“Yes, and tell him it’s extremely urgent. I want his men to move on this in a matter of minutes.”
CHAPTER 46
Matt walks back to the main library lost in thought. Was the rock in his pocket one of the Magatama Stones? Who was the Holder that Professor Yamamoto spoke of? What’s a corporation doing supporting the professor’s research? What could a Holder do with the Stone? He looks forward to pouring over the professor’s research. As a mass of thoughts flow through his mind, he notices his right hand has already slipped into the side pocket as if on its own. The fingers wrap around the Stone, falling into what feels like their default position.
He realizes he hasn’t sent a message to Jessic
a since the previous night, so he pulls out his jax.
Jess. Remember the magic rock I threw away at the airport? I found it this morning, in my hand when I woke up from that dream I told you about. Only one word for this. Creepy. Can’t seem to get rid of it.
It’s late in Colorado, but he promised Jess he will keep in touch. He jaxes off the message. The reply comes in seconds.
You’re joking, right? Nothing is ever normal with you. I saw what you wrote about the dream. Since when did you start keeping a dream journal? Take my advice. Just keep this between you and me. Don’t tell anyone else, especially not your professor. You must be under a lot of stress.
His laughs to himself and then, after walking a few more steps, realizes that she is absolutely right. Nothing is ever normal with him. His fingers instinctively move across the jax.
I’m not normal, and I’m not joking. But it’s a secret only you and I will share. If I can’t get rid of the rock, I’ll just keep it. Maybe it wants me.
A few seconds pass.
You are crazy. That much is clear. Sounds like we need to have a long conversation, but I have to sleep now. Tomorrow is a big day, an interview for a new job in New York City. It may be my lucky break.
A big grin floats across Matt’s face as he thinks of Jess floating off to sleep.
On the third floor of the library, he pours over Professor Yamamoto’s files on a slate at a table next to the wall just off the central open area. A large window behind him looks out over the entrance to the library. He has a good view of the inside and outside.
It’s an another old habit he got from his dad. When in public, avoid closed spaces. Leave yourself an escape route. Pick a location that gives you a clear view. By now, it’s become second nature to scan every space he’s in and select the spot that provides the best means of escape in case someone comes after him.
By early evening, he has poured over the files for three hours without finding the string of Chinese characters in any of the photos. Deciding it is time to take a short break, he stares out the window into the distance to give his eyes a rest. Something catches his attention. A man in a dark suit is coming toward the library from the other side of the lawn. He is cutting across the grass rather than staying on the sidewalk, something no typical Japanese would do. His clothes, his shoes, even his swaggering gait shout out a single word.