He peeked through the slit opening and saw Mr. Haskins standing by the front door. In his left hand he held a funny-shaped red box, maybe two inches
across. Mr. B stood there holding something that looked like a cross between a cookie jar and a cigar humidor. Since Jack had never seen a black
ceramic cookie jar, he assumed it was a humidor.
“Good luck to us both, Gordon.”
Mr. B nodded. “We’l need it.”
They shared that strange handshake again, and then the freeholder left.
Mr. Brussard looked unhappy as he closed the door. With a sigh he returned to his den.
As soon as he was out of sight, Jack darted from the bathroom and headed back to the basement.
His mind whirled as he descended the stairs. What was this “klazen” they’d been talking about? From what he’d just heard, it kil ed people. But not just
any people … “those responsible.”
Responsible for what?
It sounded crazy, but here were two grown men, one of them a freeholder, both frightened by this thing Jack had never heard of.
1
Despite previous worries about NineteenEighty-Four’sBig Brother, Weezy’s idea about a two-way TV that could search al the libraries in the world was starting to sound pretty good to Jack.
No one in his family had heard of a “klazen” and, try as he might, he couldn’t find a word about it anywhere. The big problem was not knowing how to spel it. So he’d tried every variation he could think of: clazen,klazen,clayzen, klazin,and on and on, but found nothing in the family’sEncyclopedia Britannica or its unabridged dictionary.
So he cal ed up the source of al weird knowledge—at least in his world.
“Please tel me the cube’s al right,” Weezy said as soon as she came on the phone. “It is, isn’t it? You didn’t lose it or anything, did you?”
“And a good morning to you too,” he said.
“Please, Jack. I’m serious. You’re not cal ing me to tel me—”
“Everything’s fine, Weez. I’ve got it right here. And guess what? Mister Brussard can open it too. But Steve can’t. Isn’t that weird?”
A pause, then, “Yeah, I guess so. Is that what you cal ed to tel me?”
“No. I heard a strange word last night: klazen. Ring a bel ?”
“No. How do you spel it?”
He read off al the variations he’d written down.
“Nope,” she said. “Never heard of it. What’s it supposed to be?”
“I’l tel you later. I’m going to ask Mister Rosen if he’s ever heard of it. Want to come along? I can explain on the way.”
“Okay. But stop here first. And bring the cube.”
He laughed. “You sound like Linus and his blanket.”
“Ja-ack!” She made it a two-syl able word.
“Okay, okay. Wil do.”
Before leaving he returned to his room and checked the tepin-treated pistachios on the windowsil . Nice and dry. Great. He opened the envelope Mr. Canel i had used for the peppers and scooped them into it, then placed that in the top drawer of his desk.
He rubbed his hands together. Later today, if Tom stayed true to form, big brother would get his. Oh, yes. In spades.
Mwah-ha-ha-ha!
2
On the way from Weezy’s to USED, Jack noticed that she looked different. Her hair was down and her clothes were a little dressier than usual. Stil al
black, though.
He explained what he’d overheard about the klazen.
Weezy shook her head. “I don’t get it. What’s it supposed to do? Kil you?”
Jack remembered Mr. Brussard’s words: Maybehisheartsimplystopped…it’s thewayaklazenworks.
“I think so. He said it can ‘sniff out those responsible.’”
Weezy looked at him. “Responsible for what?”
“That’s what I’d like to know. I’m pretty sure it’s a Lodge thing.” “Which means it could have something to do with that body we found.” That would be cool, but too coincidental.
“Oh, that reminds me,” he said, realizing he should have told her earlier. “Kate
learned something about how he was kil ed.”
He told her about the arms being cut off at the elbows and sewn into the armpits.
Weezy looked shocked, then annoyed. “And when were you going to tel me about this?”
Jack gave a sheepish shrug. “This klazen thing sort of knocked it out of my head.”
“Forearms cut off … sewn into his armpits …” She visibly shuddered. “I’ve never heard of anything like that. It’s gross.” Then she smiled at him. “But
kind of cool that we found it.”
Jack hesitated, then decided to go ahead. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Something elseyou haven’t told me?”
“It’s about Steve.”
“Brussard? What’s up?”
“He’s drinking. Like every night.”
“You mean alcohol?”
“No, Gatorade.” When she looked puzzled, he said, “Yes, alcohol. I’m afraid he’s going to wind up like Weird Walt. But I don’t know what to do. Any
ideas?”
“Tel his folks.”
Was she kidding?
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not? He’s your friend, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, sort of.”
“So what are you going to do, stand by and watch him go down the tubes?”
“No, but I can’t rat him out. He’l never speak to me again.”
“At least he’l stil be able to speak.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Then make an anonymous cal to his dad. Disguise your voice—”
“He’l know it’s me.”
“Wel , if he’s your friend, then you’ve got to do something.” She threw up her hands. “I don’t believe this. You ask me what to do, and then you shoot
down every suggestion I make.”
Jack shook his head. “Probably shouldn’t have said anything. Girls just don’t understand.”
“Wel , I’ve given you my solution.” She sounded annoyed. “You don’t like it, come up with your own.”
“I wil .”
But just what that would be, he didn’t know.
They arrived at USED then. Jack led the way inside and found Mr. Rosen behind the counter. He looked up with a surprised expression.
“You’re clairvoyant, maybe?”
Jack stopped and felt Weezy bump into his back. “What do you mean?”
“I was just looking up your number to cal you. I heard from Professor Nakamura and he wants to tel you something about that pyramid you brought him.”
Weezy grabbed Jack’s upper arm and squeezed. “He’s found out something?”
Mr. Rosen shrugged. “He didn’t say, just that he needed to talk to you.”
In a blink Weezy was out the door, heading for the bikes.
“Let’s go!”
“Be right there,” Jack said as he stepped closer to the counter. “Mister Rosen? You ever heard of something cal ed a klazen?”
“A klazen?” The old man shook his head. “Never. What is it?”
Jack hid his disappointment. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. Okay, see you later.”
When he stepped outside, Weezy was already on her bike, wheeling in tight circles.
“Come on, Jack! What are we waiting for? He’s found out what it is!”
“Don’t get al worked up. Mister Rosen said he just wants to tel us something. That something could be anything—like it was made in Japan two weeks
ago.”
She gave him a hard look. “Why are you always trying to rain on my parade?”
Jack couldn’t help but hear Barbra Streisand belting out those lyrics from Mom’s FunnyGirlalbum. Not his favorite.
“I’m not, Weez. You know better that that.”
She sighed. “Yeah, I guess I do. S
orry.”
“I just don’t want you disappointed. I mean, you know, sometimes your parades march right off a cliff. And then you know how you get.”
She tended to get herself so worked up in anticipation, only to crash and burn when it fel through. He’d seen an up mood change to down in a
heartbeat. It wasn’t pretty.
“I’l be fine. Because I knowhe’s found al sorts of strange things about it, keys to a secret. Who knows? It might open the door to the hidden truths of al
history!”
There she goes, Jack thought as she headed toward the highway—off on her bike and off on a bubble of expectation. He hoped the professor wouldn’t
burst it, but he sensed it coming. He didn’t want to be there when she fel , but someone had to catch her.
3
The professor took them to the library and pul ed up an extra chair so both Jack and Weezy could sit, then seated himself behind the desk.
“What is it?” Weezy said, squirming in her seat. She couldn’t seem to sit stil .
Looked like she was going to vibrate herself into another dimension.
“What did you find?”
“Nothing useful, I am afraid. Most sorry. Almost everything points to your artifact
as of modern origin.”
Uh-oh, Jack thought, glancing at Weezy. Here it comes.
“That can’t be,” she said softly—too softly. “Your tests are wrong. They’ve got to
be.”
He shook his head slowly. “I fear not. We did electron-micro scanning of the symbols and found they have the fineness and sharp edges that only a laser
can do. Actual y, sharper than most lasers.”
“‘Sharper than most lasers,’” she said, her voice rising. “Doesn’t that tel you something right there?”
“It tel s me it is a hoax. Those engraved characters are meant to lead us to believe your object is pre-Sumerian, but no pre-Sumerian culture had such
technology. As I told you yesterday, they scraped their writings, their pictograms and ideograms, onto clay tablets.”
“But what if there was an advanced civilization before Sumer? One that was wiped out by the Great Flood?”
The professor smiled. “That is the stuff of fantasy. No record of such a culture or civilization exists.”
“Al right then,” she said. “What’s the pyramid made of? Did you figure that out?”
He shook his head—a bit uncertainly, Jack thought. “No. But we know it is some kind of al oy.”
Weezy leaned back. “An al oy that can’t be scratched—or at least I couldn’t scratch it. Could you?”
Professor Nakamura looked even less certain. “We did not try. It is not our property—it is yours.”
“That’s right. And I’d like it back now.”
Jack said, “We’re forgetting about the most important test. What about that argon dating you mentioned?”
“Yes-yes. Potassium argon. We did that.”
Jack waited to hear the results but the professor did not go on.
“And?” Weezy said.
Now the professor looked reallyuncomfortable. “The results were … how shal I say it?… inconclusive.”
Weezy shook her head, “I don’t understand what you mean. I understand what ‘inconclusive’ means, but what kind of inconclusive results are you talking
about?”
“You couldn’t date it?” Jack said.
“Oh, yes, we got a date, but an impossible date.”
Jack felt a fleeting tingle up his spine. Impossible?What kind of date would be impossible? He glanced over at Weezy and saw her sitting rigid in her
chair.
“W-what was the date?” she said.
The professor waved his hands. “I hesitate to tel you because it wil only fuel groundless speculation.”
Weezy looked ready to explode. She spoke through her teeth. “What … was … the … date?”
Professor Nakamura folded his hands on his desk and stared at them. He spoke in a low voice.
“Fourteen thousand years.”
In a flash Weezy was out of her seat and on her feet, leaning over the desk.
“Did I hear you right? Fourteen thousand years? Fourteen?”
“Yes.” The professor looked up at her. “And if you know anything about human history, you wil know that is impossible.”
“I know there’s a lot we don’tknow about human history.”
The professor nodded. “This is true, and there are arguments about which human civilization was first. It appears to be Sumer, but that can be traced
back only to five thousand B.C.—seven thousand years ago. The test says your pyramid is twice as old. Clearly that is impossible.”
“Not if it belonged to an advanced civilization that was wiped out by the Great Flood.”
Jack glanced at her, not sure if she was kidding or not. But she looked dead serious.
“You mean like in the Bible?” he said. “Noah’s flood?”
Weezy kept her eyes on the professor. “The Sumerians had exactly the same legend, long before the Bible was written. Al the ancient civilizations of
that region had a story about a great flood that cleansed the land. Am I right, professor?”
He stared at her. “How old are you?”
“I’l be fifteen next month.”
“Fifteen … you know much for fifteen.”
“I read a lot. But back to the Great Flood. Maybe a flood was only part of it. Maybe it was much more severe. Maybe it wiped out the civilization that
made that little pyramid and forced human beings to start al over again from scratch.”
The professor rol ed his eyes. “Next you wil be quoting Immanuel Velikovsky.”
“I know the name,” she said, “but I’ve never read him. I’ve heard he’s a kook.” She smiled. “But then, some people think I’ma kook, so maybe I should
look him up.” She held out her hand. “May I have my
fourteen-thousand-year-old ‘hoax’ back now?”
“I am afraid I do not have it with me.”
Weezy frowned. “You’re going to run more tests?”
“Yes, but not me, personal y. I took the liberty of sending it to the Smithsonian Institution for dating.”
“You what?Without asking me?” She glanced quickly at Jack. “I mean, us?”
Jack didn’t care al that much that she’d added the “us.” He too was ticked that the professor had taken it upon himself to send their pyramid al the way
to Washington, D.C.
“Now just a minute, young lady. You gave that over to me for investigation and that is precisely what I am doing. The Smithsonian Institution has access
to equipment I do not. They wil find an accurate date of origin. Is that not what you wanted from me?”
Jack thought about that. He’d been to the Smithsonian on his eighth-grade trip just this past spring and had been wowed by the sheer size of the place
—al the buildings, al the exhibits. Too many to see on just one trip.
Weezy’s lower lip showed just a trace of a quiver. “But you should have asked first.”
The professor nodded. “Yes, I suppose I should have. But I thought you would be happy to know that some of the greatest experts in the field wil be
studying your artifact.”
“Wel ,” she said slowly, “I guess I am. But what if something happens to it along the way? Or what if it gets lost? Things get lost in the mail, you know.”
“Oh, no. I did not send it by mail. I used overnight delivery. Federal Express. And I packed it very careful y in a box. It wil be fine. The Smithsonian
Institution handles valuable artifacts al the time. They wil take good care of it.” “They’d better,” she said.
Jack didn’t see much point in hanging around here any longer so he rose and
stood next to Weezy.
“Wil you cal us as soon as you hear anything?”
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