Indisputable Proof

by Gary Williams

  Diaz’s face twitched in bewilderment.

  Jade’s own religious beliefs aside, she found amusement in watching Diaz squirm. Once again, she was impressed by Samuel Tolen’s breadth of knowledge.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Diaz snorted. “The Bible holds the truth. Jesus Christ was the Messiah.”

  “I’m not arguing the authenticity of the Bible. This is just educated speculation,” Tolen responded. “Discounting Flavius Josephus’ account, the only place Jesus is ever mentioned in all of history is in the New Testament. There is no other historical record of his existence.”

  Diaz elected not to respond and the interior of the plane went quiet except for the steady drone of the engines. The Spaniard grabbed a small pillow to the side, turned his back, and settled into it against the seat. Jade could hear his breathing and knew the discussion had angered him terribly. Diaz’s faith was obviously his guiding force, and she had no quarrel with that. She might resent his brusque mannerisms, but all people are entitled to their beliefs.

  Diaz, she had figured out. Samuel Tolen, however, was a complete mystery. The American was the complete opposite of the Spaniard. Where Diaz had a fiery temper, Tolen kept his under complete control. Where Diaz took his beliefs on faith, Tolen appeared to open his mind to possibilities. He seemed to teeter between faith and tangible facts, as if balancing on the precipice between the two, unsure which way to fall. There was no denying he was intelligent and well read. That much was apparent when he had, yet again, exhibited his knowledge of history. His comments regarding the Jewish historian Flavius Josephus and the possibility of tampering with the man’s work centuries later had surprised her. It suggested Tolen not only knew the esoteric arguments surrounding the historical Christ figure, but that he had studied the facts in detail. She sensed that, in everything he did, Tolen had a profound need for absolute understanding and, in turn, absolute truth.

  Indeed, Samuel Tolen intrigued her with his insightful analysis and his logical disposition. He was a man of few, but effective words. She felt incredibly safe in his presence, and it had nothing to do with the pistol he had shown her at the jail. She sensed that before he resorted to physical violence, he leveraged his intellect. She just wished he had come clean about whatever was going on. She was sure she was only getting part of the truth.

  A short time later, the plane lazily pitched forward in descent. Jade looked down to see the darkness give way to the ubiquitous glow of white. Even at this early hour, the lights of Boston saturated the landscape.

  Two minutes passed, and the cabin suddenly began to rattle. It turned out to be a harbinger of things to come, as moments later the entire plane shook violently like a toy in the grasp of a child throwing a temper tantrum. Jade felt her body whipped to one side, before she was violently jerked straight up. If not for the seatbelt restraint, she would have slammed into the ceiling. She bit her tongue as she settled harshly into her seat, her teeth slamming together with aching force. The plane continued listing hard from side to side, jostling the threesome with great force.

  Reba Zee’s voice broke through the cabin speaker. “A little turbulence, folks! We’re gonna ride it out!”

  Jade could taste the warm flow of blood. Her tongue ached, and her gums were on fire. She tried to steady herself by grabbing the armrests of the chair, only to have her grip broken, leaving her hands clutching at air with each tumultuous lunge of the fuselage.

  In the frenzy, she looked across at Diaz, who was staring her straight in the eyes. With considerable difficulty, he raised a hand to his chest and crossed himself. Then he closed his eyes and relaxed.

  Seconds later the cabin dipped abruptly and settled. As quickly as it started, the plane steadied into an easy descent. Tolen seemed unconcerned as he straightened out his shirt and his coat.

  The otherwise excitable Spaniard also appeared unbothered by what had just happened. At no time had he shown any fear of death, and was now quite calm; a bastion of tranquility. If tragedy had come, it appeared Pascal Diaz was ready to accept it.

  In many ways, she envied such staunch beliefs, which led to a twinge of remorse on her part. Buried within the recesses of her soul, an ember of hope yearned for days gone by when her own convictions were just as passionate, back to a time when archaeological evidence was secondary to blind faith.

  CHAPTER 11

  September 11. Tuesday – 3:01 a.m. Cambridge, Massachusetts

  Tolen, Diaz, and Jade stepped from the Learjet stairs onto the gray tarmac under a crystalline sky. The temperature was warm but not stifling.

  Tolen’s cell phone rang. He dug it from his coat pocket and answered as they walked toward a gate.

  “Tolen, it’s Bar. I’m standing outside the National Geographic Museum on M Street with agent Lattimer. We just came from inside the Explorers’ Hall. Museum officials weren’t exactly thrilled about getting out of bed this early. I’ve thoroughly examined the Costa Rican stone on display. I didn’t find a thing.”

  Tolen thought for a moment. “Is it on a stand?”

  “A short pedestal, yes, and I know where you’re going. The part of the pedestal which cradles the base of the sphere is made of a clear material. I got on the ground and examined the underside from the bottom up. Zilch, nada, nothing. No pictures, designs, or writing. This isn’t the stone you’re looking for.”

  “Okay, Bar. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Call me at the office. I’m going back there to get a cat nap, but I’ll have the phone near my ear in case you need anything.”

  ****

  Jade watched Tolen hang up. “Anything?”

  “There was nothing on the stone sphere at the National Geographic Museum in Washington. My colleague examined it thoroughly.”

  “Then we’re down to one,” Diaz said.

  Jade felt a strange blend of exhilaration and fear. It would either be a home run or a strike out when they examined this last stone.

  Ahead, at the open gate, a man stood by a two-door, black sedan wearing a dark polo shirt, dress shorts, and deck shoes. “Agent Tolen,” he called out, offering his hand as they approached. “I’m from the university, Jason Weedly.” Tolen had arranged for an escort to the campus to save time and clear any hurdles for them to examine the stone. The young man before them was clean cut with perfect teeth. He appeared to be a student, only older, probably pursuing post-graduate studies.

  The American equivalent of an Oxford man, Jade thought.

  Weedly herded them into the vehicle and took the wheel. He was silent for most of the thirty-minute ride through the dark and lifeless streets, until they approached the Harvard University campus. Once they reached Kirkland Street, Weedly turned north between a structure on the left—the Busch Building—and the William James Building on the right. “This is Divinity Avenue,” he said. “The Peabody Museum is just ahead.”

  Divinity Avenue. The coincidence of the street name was not lost on the passengers. Jade half smiled to both Diaz beside her, and to Tolen riding in the front seat next to Weedly. Each returned her look as if to say, “What else would the street that might lead to a cache of Jesus’ personal belongings be called?”

  They passed by a large, sprawling structure on the left: Fairchild Biochemical Laboratory, and then Yenching Library on the right. Just beyond the library stood the Semitic Museum adjacent to a quiet side street.

  “Here we are,” Weedly said.

  They stopped before a multi-story red brick building on the left. A prominent sign announced they had arrived at the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnography.

  Weedly explained as a tour guide would: “This museum, founded in 1866, is one of the oldest anthropological museums in the world. It connects to a perpendicular structure at the back—a natural history and zoology museum—that, in turn, connects to a structure running parallel to
The Peabody. The sphere is on display in the courtyard formed by the U-shape of these joined buildings.”

  Weedly shut the engine off, removed the keys and unlocked his door. He was about to get out when Tolen stopped him. “Please wait here for us.”

  The young man seemed a bit confused but complied. “You’ll have to circle around the Tozzer Library, which walls most of the courtyard from Divinity Avenue. The stone is nestled near the crux of the Peabody and the library.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Weedly. We won’t be long.”

  The three exited the car. Tolen surveyed the red-brick Victorian edifice before them, then turned in a full circle eyeing the street, adjacent buildings, and manicured landscape beyond. For the first time, Jade noticed Tolen was wary, as if he expected an ambush. Come to think of it, he had duped her marvelously with the story at the jail that her life was in imminent danger, but neither Tolen nor Diaz had shown the least bit of concern regarding an attack the entire night. Until now, that is.

  A shiver ran up Jade’s spine.

  Tolen proceeded slowly along the lamppost-lit brick sidewalk, shifting his head from side to side. Diaz and Jade followed close behind. Diaz, too, seemed to be moving cautiously. The smell of fresh-cut grass rose to meet them, stirred by a mild swirl of a breeze. An industrial air-conditioning unit hummed loudly somewhere out of sight. In every direction, the campus was void of life except for light shining from upper-story windows of buildings on either side of Divinity Avenue.

  “You guys are making me nervous,” Jade whispered.

  Neither man responded. Instead, the threesome continued past the Tozzer Library as Weedly had advised. At the end of the building, Tolen led them into the courtyard and down a wide swath of pavement lined with thick overhanging trees. Tolen slowed even further as they proceeded through the shadows of the courtyard. Jade felt her pulse notch up. If someone wanted to ambush them, this would be a prime place. She noticed Tolen was now moving more cat-like than human, practically slinking through the gray darkness with stealthy precision. She had been unaware until that moment Diaz had fallen into step behind her so that the three were in single file as they moved deeper into the closed courtyard.

  Ahead, the thick tree cover cleared. A pallid glow of moonlight penetrated a stone-paved glade, through which they passed. Further on, the trees once again enveloped the walk, and they plunged back into shadows. As they approached the end of the library, a small creature scampered up a nearby tree, causing Jade to jump.

  “Bugger,” she mumbled. She paused to catch her breath with a hand to her chest then quickly started forward again, knowing Diaz was likely to barrel into her if she remained stationary.

  The trees once again fell away, and the sidewalk was dressed in muted moonlight. Tolen stopped at a circular section of brick pavement near the Peabody Museum building. A large, bulbous object loomed in the darkness. Chest high and perfectly round, the sphere was seated upon a hexagonal base of stone at least a foot thick, held in place by three solid stone braces atop the ornamental base.

  “This…this thing is big,” Diaz exclaimed.

  Jade nodded as she explained, “The Costa Rican spheres were first discovered in the 1940s by workers clearing land for banana plantations by the United Fruit Company. Primarily, the spheres are found in and around the small village of Palmar Sur. It is believed they were initially created in the 1st century, but no one knows for sure. This one was a gift from the United Fruit Company to the Harvard museum following the 1964 World’s Fair in New York.” Jade eyed the massive stone. “It weighs about 600 lbs.”

  Tolen removed an object from inside his coat pocket. There was a click and a stab of light hit the ground. Tolen raised the flashlight beam to the pedestal.

  “You’re on, Dr. Mollur,” he said, taking a step to the side to allow her room to pass. He offered his flashlight, but she turned it down, pulling a penlight from her pocket.

  “This will go much faster if we all search,” Jade said.

  Tolen nodded, and he and Diaz went behind the stone. Jade began her examination opposite them, moving the light extremely slowly over the hewn surface.

  Diaz’s words floated to her from the other side of the stone sphere. “Surely an image on a rock displayed here for almost fifty years would have been noticed before now.”

  “The creature of anonymity,” Jade reminded him, maintaining her focus. She was not going to get drawn into his pessimism. She eyed the stone intently, slowly passing the thin beam over the convex surface, occasionally pausing to investigate tool marks from the sphere’s original carving untold centuries before.

  She started at the top and worked her way down. It was a laborious process, and several times her mind fooled her, incorrectly matrixing images of animals from the various marks. Upon closer examination, they proved each time to be nothing more than obscure scrapes across the stone’s surface.

  Halfway down, Jade felt her spirits begin to wane. Then she had an even more disconcerting thought: what if the creature of anonymity was an image embedded inside the stone? At a minimum, the reexamination of the hundreds of spheres with stone-penetrating radar equipment would take months, possibly years, and would cost thousands of dollars she did not have. It might take a long time, if ever, to raise the money needed through donations or grants.

  As they worked, she noticed that Tolen occasionally glanced sideways at her then took in the surrounding area, scanning the dark shadows under the copse of trees which filled the courtyard. He was obviously still on alert, and it made her skin tingle, causing a whirlwind of emotions to knot up inside her.

  With only one-quarter of the stone left to search, her hope was rapidly slipping away. The excitement which had kept her exhaustion at bay was evaporating. The thought of having to begin the search in Costa Rica all over again without Phillip was almost unbearable.

  Jade was now kneeling, leaning on the stone pedestal for support, as fatigue was settling in. The red-brick pavement bit into her bare knees as she craned her head sideways to examine the underside of the stone. The moonlight did not reach here, and she slowed her examination even more, hoping upon hope for some image which would stand out in this last section of stone surface as she contorted underneath it.

  “I’ve seen that on the back of some of your American vehicles.”

  She had been so entrenched in her thoughts that Diaz’s voice startled her. She had practically forgotten that Tolen and Diaz were searching the other side of the stone. They had barely made a sound.

  “What?” she said, as a charge of exhilaration returned. She scurried to her feet and went around to the other side of the stone.

  Tolen and Diaz both faced her as Tolen said, “Long before Christianity, the symbol of a certain creature was known as ‘the Great Mother.’ It was linked to fertility, birth, feminine sexuality, and the natural force of women, and was acknowledged by the Celts as well as many pagan cultures throughout northern Europe.”

  Jade stared at him curiously, wondering where he was going with this.

  “Around the 1st century, the creature was adopted by early Christians. There were probably several reasons for this. For one, Jesus’ ministry is strongly associated with it, and two, it was considered an innocuous symbol persecutors would not link to Christians. When a Christian met someone new, they would draw a single arc in the sand. If the other person completed the drawing with a second, inverse arc overlapping the first one, it was known they, too, were Christian.”

  Tolen turned toward the stone and shined the flashlight on the surface at the midpoint. It was slightly darkened from the surrounding surface. He held up a bottle of water for Jade to see. “We wet it to get the etching to show up better.”

  Excitedly, Jade squatted and moved closer to the stone. Tolen poured some more water on the surface and two pronounced lines approximately two inches long appeare
d: arcs joined at one end and overlapping at the other end.

  “Of course!” she exclaimed. “Ixthus! The Christian Fish! That’s what it meant by ‘The creature of anonymity.’ It helped protect the identity of Christians!” She held her gaze on the image. The lines were unmistakable, but it was no wonder the image had never been noticed. Not only was it faint, but it was so obscure that it was unrecognizable unless you were specifically looking for it. She briefly considered the depths of Samuel Tolen’s knowledge on the subject, but there was no time for that now. She pushed away from the stone and stood. It suddenly dawned on her she had no idea what to do next.

  “So we have the correct stone. Now what?” Diaz spoke her thoughts for her.

  Jade scratched her cheek in thought. The thrill of the discovery slowly gave way to reality. Two arcing lines did not make a treasure map, nor did they lead to any further clues.

  “We take a look inside,” Tolen broke the silence. He knelt down and shined the flashlight on the image, running a finger in a circle on the surface around the fish, tracing a razor thin, almost invisible indention six inches in diameter.

  Jade realized the significance. The stone had been plugged.

  CHAPTER 12

  September 11. Tuesday – 3:48 a.m. Cambridge, Massachusetts

  Pascal Diaz looked at his watch. He was growing anxious with this fanciful treasure hunt. “We have less than 72 hours to find the Sudarium, and you want to open up this stone?”

  Jade, who was propped on the pedestal, turned a shadowed face toward Diaz. “Sudarium?”

  Mierda, Diaz swore silently to himself.