by P. W. Child
“It was so kind of you to come in on the weekend,” Nina smiled.
“Oh, it’s no problem, Dr. Gould,” the lab assistant told her. “I, for one, had very little to do this weekend that did not entail video games and too much potato chips.”
They chuckled as the laser from the XRF machine scanned the double statues meticulously, running data into the nearby spectroscopy program on the nearby screens. Nina was admittedly curious about the result, having heard the full fascinating tale from Purdue when he came to visit her in Oban. He left no detail out, filling her in on everything that had happened and what Heidmann had told him and Donovan Graham. However, Purdue asked for some discretion on Nina’s part. Dr. Heidmann was not to know that she knew the full story since Purdue and his friend Dr. Graham were still uncertain about Heidmann’s intentions.
After meeting the men the night before, she understood why she was sworn to secrecy. Nina was no psychiatrist, yet she could clearly see that Dr. James Heidmann was suffering from some underlying anxiety, perhaps even an inkling of paranoia. Even though the historian had grown terribly weary of questionable people and engaging in perilous ventures with them, the origin of the stone man was just too intriguing to resist.
Several hours later, after of employing various techniques for analyses of different compounds in the artifact, the results were printed. Nina was ecstatic, eager to determine if the stone men were truly at the receiving end of some mythological monster or whether their condition had a scientific basis. Naturally she expected the latter, although she had witnessed some seriously strange phenomena in her life; things that defied explanation.
“Purdue, the results are here,” she said over the intercom through which she could reach him while he was busy preparing the other pieces for analysis.
“Splendid!” he exclaimed. “I’ll be right there.”
Upon arrival in the Chemical section of his laboratory, Purdue found Nina and the two scientists looking positively excited.
“Wow, looks like you bunch struck gold,” he smiled, “so to speak. What did you find?”
“Plenty, sir,” the head scientist bragged. “But we will let Dr. Gould fill you in.”
“Aye,” Nina said, “although we are aware that you know science, they thought it would be a nice way to explain to you in layman’s terms.”
She winked at the other two spooks who finally started to remove their gloves, as Purdue took her to the print-out of the data.
I would not have it any other way,” he smiled. “Take a break, people. You have certainly earned it.”
The two scientists left the lab for a spot of lunch and a hot beverage while Purdue read the reports. “Do you see what I see?” he asked Nina without peeling his eyes from the data.
“Aye,” she replied, taking a sip of bottled water. “Are you talking about the soda ash?”
“I am, but not just that. Natron and Trona. Carbonic acid, I see. There is also other traces of sediment I cannot seem to identify, do you?” he asked Nina.
She shook her head with a mouthful of water.
“This reminds me much of the central African lake that turns animals to stone, Nina. I am not too sure, but from what I remember, it was in Tanzania?”
Nina looked on since Purdue had already noticed the presence of calcification agents that she detected at first. “You know, I am not a geologist, but I know the basics. I agree that these men’s bodies were subjected to chemical calcification of some sorts, but they are just too lifelike or robust to have been mummified,” she presented. “But there are other particles here that I don’t know.”
“Hang on,” Purdue frowned as he inspected the chemicals more carefully. “This, I believe is limestone. And this one, oddly, is bronze.”
“You are not as uninformed as you seem to believe, Mr. Purdue,” Don smiled from the doorway. “My guys said you have the results. May I have a gander?”
Nina smiled warmly at the roughshod, but intelligent archeologist.
“You may, Dr. Graham,” Purdue said ceremoniously, gracefully stepping aside for his friend to help. “Just keep it simple. Dr. Gould and I are rooted in other sciences.”
Don gave Nina a suave wink to which she chuckled. She enjoyed his laid-back manner and his absolute disregard for seriousness or rules. That was precisely the manner of someone she had once known. Sam’s reckless abandon and his challenging methods to defy the rules was one of his best-known qualities.
For once, Donovan Graham’s face took on a serious look. He was focusing on the parts he ran his thick, calloused thumb over as he mentally scrolled down the long piece of paper. Finally, he lolled his head to the side and sighed, seeming both confounded and impressed.
“What is it?” Nina asked, almost standing on her toes to urge him.
“Fuck me!” he said quietly. “This is an ancient piece, Purdue! I mean, really old. I would easily pin these old boys in pre-Classical times, circa two, 3000 BC, give or take.”
“That is before their antique texts were even written,” Nina mentioned, to which Purdue swung to face her with an amazed stare.
“That’s right, pretty lady,” Don affirmed. “These men…Jesus, I cannot believe I am actually saying this…but these men probably lived in the eras of Greek Mythology, before the Classical Era.”
Purdue hardly ever looked flabbergasted, but this time, there was no doubt that he was stunned by the revelation. He ran his elongated fingers through his hair, wanting to smile, but trying to be professional. “What about the other piece, do you think?”
“He is broken. Let me take him,” Don teased. Nina burst out laughing.
“Oh, really?” Purdue smiled. “You would have to fight Heidmann for him.”
“Consider it won, then. He has no use for a broken statue anyway,” Don persisted playfully. “He has two more.”
“Oh!” Purdue exclaimed. “That reminds me. Nina, as soon as Dr. Graham’s people are refreshed, we need to throw the Son of Zyklon-B relic on the slab. Use the refractometer as well, I think.”
“Good idea,” Don agreed. “This piece has traces of bronze, like you said, Dave. I believe it was to maintain its form better, but it could have been added a few centuries later only.” He read some more, mentioning things he recognized. “Loam, clay….you know, based on the type of limestone and hints of marble, these blokes must have lived in Crete or the highland areas of Greece. Maybe they were brothers.”
As they ascended the stairs to where Heidmann and Costa were having a drink, Purdue and Nina kept discussing the analysis as a matter of interest. Nina was filled with wonder. “Imagine just for a second, that these bodies we are now touching possibly lived in the time of Aphrodite and Zeus…”
“Respectfully, Dr. Gould,” Costa intervened casually, “those so-called gods did not exist in the material world. They were merely the hidden qualities of human nature, I assure you.”
Nina felt insulted, having her hypothetical fantasy so unceremoniously debunked.
“And you know this because you were there, in Bumfuck, B.C.?” she snapped with her customary raised eyebrow. It was her facial expression for starting a fight. “Most gods were indeed real people, from my experience in studying ancient history and anthropology. Most of them were kings and general, immortalized by their people as gods for their heroic conquests.”
“Many of them were,” he conceded calmly. “But those you mentioned…no.”
“And what would irrefutably substantiate that argument?” she asked Costa.
“Because I am Greek and you are not my dear,” he replied casually. “I am an expert in Greek history and the pantheon thereof while you lean all the way back to last centuries German atrocities. That should be substantiation enough.”
Nina’s brow darkened as her chest heaved. Purdue knew her intimately, and this was the moment where intervention would be of utmost importance to prevent a shit storm on his expedition.
“Nina, I have something for you. Come,” he smiled, placing
his arm gently around her shoulders and pulling her away. As they disappeared into the hallway leading to the kitchen, Don and Heidmann stared at the cool mannered Greek Art professor. He shrugged at them.
“I don’t know that lady very well, Zorba, but I would suggest not fucking with her,” Don remarked. “I need a Guinness.”
Heidmann shook his head as he walked past Costa. “I wish I had your courage, my friend.” Costa’s culture prevented him from completely understanding what he had done wrong. He was raised to speak his mind and do it without reservation. The pretty historian’s reaction to his uttering was in his opinion, overly sensitive. Since he was a man of propriety, he knew he would soon have to apologize for offending her, even just to keep the peace. Yet, he did not consider himself wrong in setting her straight about things he knew better about.
In the evening, the group convened to discuss the findings of Dr. Graham’s team. Nina had not forgotten Costa’s snide dismissal of her opinion. After all, it was the prerogative of women to hold a grudge in Western civilization, according to most men of the same breed. It was a sad truth, but not one that fazed Costa Megalos at all. While Don took the turn to explain the genuine antiquity of the Klónos² relic, Costa constantly looked over at Nina, not to annoy her, but to establish contact whereby he could determine how susceptible she would be to a conversation.
She, however, maintained her very own stone face, refusing to afford him a moment’s attention. James Heidmann’s face lit up when the previously discussed analysis of the Klónos² came to light. Purdue affirmed what Heidmann had always suspected – his collection contained something priceless that could fetch him not only glory but immeasurable wealth.
“So, with the Son of Zyklon-B, we found what we suspected,” Don lectured, holding the data print-out in his massive hands for reference. “The age of his composition dates to around the 1940’s, relatively juvenile compared to the other piece.”
“Pretty much everything is juvenile compared to Klónos²,” Heidmann remarked out loud, evoking a hum of amusement among the others, nodding in agreement with him.
“But the irony is that there is not a single molecule of Cyclone B on this old boy here,” Don smiled. “However, the name does imply that he was supposed to be subjected to the gas, that…maybe that he is ‘the son’ of the gas, meaning he was turned to stone after he was killed in the gas chambers. Of that, we are not sure, but Nina is going to examine whatever we find near Ostrava to determine if there was any correlation between that warehouse and the Nazi concentration camps.”
“So, on Monday morning we depart for Ostrava,” Purdue followed up. “And from what we find there, we will be able to determine how these bodies were calcified. If the same technique was used for both artifacts, we know there must be some ancient weapon out there in Eastern Europe that has the ability to instantly calcify human tissue.”
Nina’s eyes unintentionally caught Costa’s. She was obviously still furious at him as her dark eyes pierced his with antipathy.
“I am taking my gun to Ostrava,” Don said. “I hope I don’t run into Medusa herself.”
The other men snickered, but Costa just remarked, “I think I already have.”
Chapter 16
Having spent most of Sunday in Don Graham’s company, Nina elected to take a walk in Purdue’s magnificent gardens before retiring to bed. The rain relented for the day and evening, allowing the members of Purdue’s party to have a patio dinner and Nina was engrossed in Don’s tales of the strange things he had encountered during excavations. His oddest and creepiest stories coincidentally took place mostly in Northern Africa, New Zealand, and the Hebrides. To make his companionship even better, the man was a consummate story teller, not in the dramatic sense, but in the way, he could describe situations and venues so vividly that Nina felt she was practically there.
A call from son in Singapore drew him away from her after dinner and from there she was pretty much on her own. Mostly avoiding another verbal altercation with Prof. Megalos, she visited the laboratory to admire the strange relics that instigated the chain of events that got her here at Wrichtishousis again after so long.
It was her home briefly. She lived here while involved romantically with Dave Purdue a few years before, and even held the fort at the mansion when Purdue vanished off the radar. He never shared with her what he was really wrapped up in during those eight months that he absconded without a trace, but she did not care enough anymore to pry.
She could hear the varied male voices talking and laughing up on the second-floor concrete balcony. They were all there, but she had asked Purdue not to summon her, as she needed some time alone. Perhaps Purdue could tell that she missed her reclusive home, that she missed Sam because he did not question her or try to change her mind.
Above her, the night sky had turned from a soft grey and white mess of clouds to a clear starry heaven with a halo of scattered clouds letting the moon shine through. Around her, the vast garden of rolling landscaping and tall hovering trees hissed in a whisper of wind. Nina stretched her arms out beside her and closed her eyes. Her dark tresses snaked over her shoulders and lapped against her back, just below her shoulder blades and her full lips opened slightly in a silent cry of passion.
In her mind, she imagined kissing Sam, like the first time he dared cross that boundary. Her senses were alert in the darkness from her core to her ears, where she heard the masculine merriment and imagined that she smelled Sam’s skin and hair against her cheek. Tears lined her closed eyes as the memories came too strong again. While she reminisced over his voice when he teased her, she imagined the warmth of his chest under her hands. Then came those eyes. Sam’s long black lashes fell sensually over his dark brown eyes, lending him a vulnerability his heavy eyebrows would not easily allow. As the gusts of wind played with Nina’s hair and the scent of pine needles faintly flirted with her nostrils she remembered Sam’s face and his wild black hair.
Beneath the shelter of the cedars and oaks he reached for him with her stretching fingers, pretending to touch him. Under her fingertips she suddenly felt his skin and hair for real, scaring her into a violent gasp that ripped her breath away. Nina retreated so rapidly that her ankles failed her and as she fell her eyes opened inadvertently to reveal the source of her fright.
Costa towered over her in the moonlight, his dark eyes staring from under his wild black hair. Nina could not scream as the fear gripped her, but Costa lunged forward and caught her inches above the thick lawn, preventing her from injuring her back.
“Jesus Christ! Are you trying to kill me?” she shouted furiously.
“I am so sorry,” he implored in his gentle tone. “Please, Nina, allow me to explain. I did not mean to frighten you.”
Her heart palpitated wildly, prompting her to gasp for air. He said nothing more, shedding his coat to let her sit down on the lawn.
“The grass is wet,” he said, hoping that she would at least understand why he put his coat down. “It is freezing out here. How can you be so comfortable out here?”
Nina calmed her breathing and composed herself. Angry as she was, she decided to collect her thoughts and let Sam rest for now.
“Well, you see, that is because I am Scottish, Professor, and you are not,” she retorted. He instantly recognized her rejoinder as a counter for what he had said to her two days ago. He sank his head, “Touché.”
Nina was satisfied. In an admittedly childish way, she got her revenge, on the Greek know-it-all and that elevated her mood considerably. Naturally she could not admit it to him outright, so she opted for small talk instead.
“Why did you come out here?” she asked him.
The attractive man sat down on a low stone and mortar wall made to border the understory of the tree above. He shrugged, “I was looking for you to…” he sought the correct phrase, “…bury the hatchet?”
Nina said nothing in response, only nodded in understanding.
“I did not mean to antagonize you with
that lecture. Really,” he explained. “But you know how it is when you are an authority on a subject, and someone remarks on something you know a thing or two about.”
She had to agree. What Costa referred to was something she was very familiar with. How many times did she watch documentaries or listen to conversations where she knew people to be absolutely wide off the mark! Although she did it more tactfully than he, she fathomed Costa’s urge to correct her that day.
“You are right,” she affirmed. Her eyes flared up again, but this time, it was in mock battle. “But that does not mean your theory is correct, good sir,” she warned with a finger pointed at him. Costa smiled. It was obvious that he did not accept her opinion, again, but this time, he just shook his head.
“You would have made a feisty Greek,” he told her casually. “You already have the features and the unyielding charisma of fire and blood. Ever consider moving to the Mediterranean?”
‘Was that a proposal of sorts? Am I being propositioned by this hot piece of…?’ she thought before his interruption.
“I’m sorry, was that a bit forward?” he asked sincerely.
Nina did not want to embarrass him. “No, it was not too forward. But no, I have no desire for that constant heat and sunshine. It is lovely once in a while, but if Greece is anything like Italy I would have to pass.”
“I understand,” he smiled. “You are just too Scottish…for now.”
Nina smiled, but her expression revealed her bewilderment. What was he really trying to say?
‘God, he looks just like Sam in so many ways,’ she thought as she watched him run his fingers through his long dark hair. Between Don Graham and Costa Megalos, she almost had a Sam-replica, a most pleasurable combination of his looks and behavior.
‘But he is not Sam, and neither is Don. They will never be Sam,’ her conscience reminded her rudely.
Costa became less visible as the darkness veiled him. The moon was being smothered by the clouds again, stealing the blue tinged light that illuminated the garden. Nina cleared her throat and looked up at the sky, “We had better go in.”