The Oracle

by D. J. Niko

  But it was not to be. In Pythagoras’ day, the Greeks quarreled and divided. Desperate to subdue their rising enemies, they’d grown weary of nuanced philosophical thought and wanted quick, easy fixes. Though Pythagoras taught “domination through innovation,” no one was listening. They were far too consumed with the barbarians at the gate to engage in that kind of reflection.

  Perhaps it was just as well. Men, then and now, were incapable of wielding such power without straying from the knife’s edge between humanity and human nature.

  Daniel tapped the depth gauge on his wrist and pointed up. They were running low on air and had to surface. Sarah clipped the camera onto her belt and gave him the thumbs-up. As they ascended, the sunbeam breaking through the surface of the river shimmered into the depths, illuminating the shadows. She felt the sun’s warmth on her cheeks and was overcome by a peaceful sensation.

  She surfaced first and floated there, waiting for Daniel. The green fringes of the Gönen Çayi were dotted with red-and-white wildflowers trembling in the spring breeze. All was profoundly quiet.

  Daniel emerged from the water and removed his regulator. “You’re getting pretty good at this.” He winked. “Diving, I mean.”

  They swam to the riverbank and exited the water, shedding their oxygen tanks and fins. Sarah caught a glimpse of movement in the distance. She did a double take and saw Isidor in a wheelchair, which Phoebe was pushing.

  Sarah smiled. They’d arrived just in time. She peeled the black dive hood off her head and shook out her hair. Phoebe parked the wheelchair at the riverbank and ran into Sarah’s arms.

  Daniel shook Isidor’s hand. “You’re looking good. What are the doctors saying?”

  “I’m lucky to be alive. The bullet exited through my spine, and I’m partially paralyzed from the waist down—for now, anyway.” He smiled at his sister. “We’re working on that.”

  “I’ve told him he has to get better to walk me to school in the fall,” Phoebe said.

  Sarah squatted next to Isidor’s chair. “Well, here’s something that will motivate you to walk again.” She unclipped the digital camera and clicked through some of the photos.

  “Remarkable. The symbols are clearer than I thought.” Isidor squinted at the tiny screen. “But it’s hard to tell there’s a formula here.”

  “It’s a partial representation,” Sarah said. “The rest of the stone is hidden in the fill. The only way to get the full picture is to excavate it.”

  “Is that likely to happen?”

  Daniel interjected. “We’re looking at a stratigraphical layer, one of several. In other words, an artifact within an artifact. I’m not sure the Turkish government will allow an excavation. But we will try.”

  Isidor glanced at Daniel, then at Sarah. “Say they grant the permits. Then what?”

  “Then an underwater archaeology team goes in and retrieves the artifacts,” Daniel said. “It has to be done layer by layer. It’s a slow process. Getting to the stone could take years.”

  “And deciphering the formula could take years after that,” Sarah added. “At the end of the day, everyone will come out with a theory and no one will agree. It’s the way the game is played.”

  “Even so, it makes me nervous.” Isidor’s gaze wandered toward the water. “In a way, some things are best kept a mystery.”

  Sarah put her hand on his. “We shouldn’t fear the truth, Isidor. This knowledge wasn’t meant to destroy. It was cautionary. A philosopher’s charge was to present ideas, to lay the groundwork for others. In this case, enlightened men and women, whether in Pythagoras’ time or some distant future, could use the knowledge to prevent disasters of a catastrophic scale, not cause them. The true strength of nations lies in innovation, not in war.”

  Isidor nodded and squeezed her hand. “It is exactly what the Pythagoreans believe. Only you have more faith in mankind than we do.”

  “When you study the ancient world, you can’t help but have such faith. For thousands of years, civilized people have demonstrated enormous power—both good and bad. But we’ve persisted in spite of ourselves, haven’t we?”

  “Touché.”

  “Never argue with a woman wielding a shovel,” Daniel said.

  They all laughed.

  “Take care of yourself,” Sarah told Isidor, standing. “The next time I see you, I want you to be out of this chair.”

  As Phoebe and Isidor got ready to depart, Daniel placed a hand on Sarah’s back and whispered in her ear. “I think we ought to give Phoebe an assignment.”

  She took a step back and regarded him with surprise. “Are you sure?”

  He winked. “You bet.”

  Sarah studied Daniel’s demeanor and saw only cool self-assurance. This was the Daniel she knew. She felt an overwhelming desire to hold him.

  Phoebe approached. “I don’t want to say good-bye.”

  “We don’t either, sweetheart,” Daniel said. He glanced at Sarah, and she nodded for him to go on. “We were thinking . . . maybe you’d like to join us on a dig next summer.”

  The girl’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”

  “Now, Phoebe,” Sarah said, assuming a faux didactic tone, “it’s very hard work. You may have to climb rocks, descend into caves, and generally toil in very harsh conditions.” She smiled.

  “I accept!” Phoebe hugged Sarah, then Daniel.

  Sarah caught a glimpse of Isidor. He’d sat back in his wheelchair, beaming with contentment. Everything about that moment felt so right.

  “Until then, little lady,” Daniel said. “You take care of your brother. Family’s everything.”

  Phoebe nodded and returned to Isidor. She pushed his wheelchair toward the street, where a taxi was waiting.

  Sarah turned to Daniel. “That was quite a thing you did. She needed someone to believe in her. You’ve given her that.”

  His amber eyes glimmered in the sun. “Everybody needs that chance. And God knows she deserves it.”

  She slipped her arms around his waist. “You’re a hell of a man, Daniel Madigan.”

  He gave a sideways smile. “You trying to tell me you love me?”

  She pulled him closer. “You’re good at deductive reasoning. Here’s some data for you to analyze.” She kissed him with an exquisite hunger. Everything they’d been through over the past three months made that moment that much sweeter. She pulled back slightly and smiled. “So what’s your theory, Doctor?”

  “A hypothesis is starting to come together”—he winked—“but, clearly, I’m going to need more data.”

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