Dourado

CHAPTER 17

Dane greeted Bones with a rough hug and a slap on the back. He then turned and shook hands with Corey, Matt and Willis. It was a relief to see them safe.

“Thanks for waiting for us,” Bones said. “I know you’re dying to open that box, but we didn’t want to miss this.” The others added their thanks as well.

“Kaylin didn’t want to wait,” Dane said. “Truth told, I didn’t want to wait either. But you guys deserve to be here. Everything worked out all right?”

“No problem,” Bones said. “We recovered the bodies, searched them, stripped them down, took them out to deeper water, and fed ‘em to the sharks.” He said this as if recounting a trip to the grocery store or a day of chores around the house. “Done deal.”

“Did you find anything that will tell us who these guys are?” Dane asked. Why they were being followed was obvious, but the question of exactly who it was that was after them had confounded Dane and his friends.

“Just those weird crucifixes with swords for crosses. Corey took some pictures and e-mailed them to Jimmy. We’ll see what turns up.” Bones looked around before continuing. “Sorry, I just feel like someone’s going to walk up on us any minute. This is not the kind of stuff anyone else needs to hear. We were defending ourselves, but…”

“I understand,” Dane said. “This is the most desolate floor of any Naval Academy building I’ve ever been in. I think it’s safe to talk here. Go ahead.”

“We burned the clothing, put the ashes, crucifixes and weapons into their speedboat, and blew the whole mess to kingdom come.”

“Man, I hated blowing up that boat,” Willis said. “That thing was sweet.”

“No kidding,” Matt said. “Bones wouldn’t even let us take a spin in it first.”

“Which is why we were able to clean up the mess, get the boat back to its owner, and get the hell out of Dodge before the authorities caught up with us,” Bones said.

“Get out of Dodge?” Corey echoed, grinning. “Indians aren’t allowed to make cowboy jokes. It’s in the rulebook.”

“How about we get on with it, gentlemen?” Dane asked, opening the door to the room where Kaylin was waiting, along with Dr. James Sowell. A professor of archaeology and an acquaintance of Dane and Bones, Sowell had arranged for the use of the laboratory, and gained entrance for Dane and his friends.

The room was utilitarian: plain white walls and lots of stainless steel. The metal box, the box holding the sword, Dane hoped, lay on a table in the center of the room beneath a bright fluorescent light. They all circled around, eager to find out what was inside.

“All right, everyone put on your safety glasses,” Sowell said. He donned a pair of dark-tinted laboratory goggles, and picked up his saw. The tool consisted of a small handle with a diamond-tipped circular blade. “Watch for sparks and tiny shards of metal,” he instructed, then began to cut away the welds that held the lid securely to the box.

The thin, high-pitched whine of the saw rose to a shrill squeal as the blade cut into the ancient bonds.

Dane was so excited that he could scarcely hear it. A tingling sensation ran up his back and down his arms as the moment drew near. He watched as Sowell worked his way down one side, then around the end, and back up the other side. When only one end of the box remained, he felt Kaylin grasp his forearm in both hands and squeeze.

The professor completed the last cut, put down his saw, and knelt to inspect his work. He used a brush and a small vacuum tube to clean away the loose bits of metal from around the cut. Then he probed the cut with a thin bladed knife.

“Should we just come back tomorrow?” Bones asked, a touch of annoyance in his voice. “I mean, if you’re gonna be a while…”

“I was asked to do a job,” Sowell replied, not looking up from his work. “It’s going to be done properly.”

“Sorry,” Bones said. “We’ve been through a lot to get this thing.”

Sowell finished his inspection and nodded as if satisfied. He stood up and addressed the group.

“Everyone put on masks and rubber gloves, please.” He pointed to a table against the far wall.

“Why?” Willis asked.

“We don’t know what’s in there. There could be some sort of mold spore that might be harmful if inhaled. And frankly, even if whatever is in there isn’t potentially harmful, I don’t want you sneezing on it.” He turned to Bones. “Since you’re so eager, how about you give me a hand with this lid?”

Bones donned a mask and a pair of gloves, and positioned himself at one end of the table. He and Dr. Sowell each took hold of one end of the lid.

“Okay, lift,” Sowell instructed. Each lifted his end of the lid. It did not budge.

Bones tried to jiggle the lid, to no avail.

“Don’t try to force it,” Sowell ordered. He took a small hammer and chisel and began working at the corners of the box, carefully tapping the tool's fine point between the two halves. When he was satisfied, he nodded to Bones, and the two of them pulled up on the lid. With a little persuasion, it came free.

Dane’s mouth dropped open in slack-jawed disbelief. The box was filled with moldy burlap. He wanted to curse. Just as quickly as the thought had entered his mind, it fled. The burlap was obviously packing material to protect whatever was inside. He chuckled at his own foolishness. Kaylin glanced at him, a look of curiosity in her eyes. He shook his head.

Sowell carefully lifted the bundle out of the box and laid it on the table. Slowly, delicately, he unrolled the burlap from around the object. Dane held his breath. Around him, the others gasped as the last layer of cloth fell away.

It was a huge broadsword. The pommel was broad, the handle wrapped in dry, aged leather. The scabbard was simple, without ornamentation. When Sowell drew the blade, however, even Dane sucked in his breath with surprise.

The sword was unlike any he had ever seen, and not only in terms of its size. One side of the blade was perfectly straight, and obviously razor sharp. The other side, apparently equally sharp, was oddly shaped, with irregular waves and indentations along the length of the blade, some of them nearly an inch deep.

“It looks like a big key,” Bones observed.

Dane was too mesmerized by the magnificence of the sword to comment.

“It’s so shiny,” Kaylin marveled. “It looks brand new.”

“Is it steel?” Dane asked. The sword should not have been in such pristine condition, especially not a three thousand year-old sword.

“No, it isn’t,” Sowell answered slowly. “It’s surprisingly light.” He hefted the sword with one hand, and cut a figure eight in the air. “It feels almost like titanium.” His puzzled voice was a match for his frown.

“May I hold it?” Kaylin asked.

Sowell nodded, and held it out across his upturned palms, as if making a formal presentation. It glistened in the artificial light.

Considering that this was the fulfillment of her father’s dream, Dane agreed that a bit of ceremony was not out of order. He laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Congratulations,” he said softly.

Bones began clapping. The others quickly joined in, whistling and applauding with enthusiasm. Kaylin turned toward them, and held the sword aloft. The tears streamed down her cheeks, framing her brilliant smile.

“Thank you all,” she said, lowering the sword, and gazing at it with a mixture of wonderment and adoration. “You all worked so hard, and put yourself in such danger to help me finish Dad’s work. I can’t tell you how much…” She broke into sobs.

Everyone surged forward to hug her or pat her on the back. Dane held back. He did not know why, but he felt as if he should not be a part of this moment.

Kaylin quickly regained her composure. She scrubbed her tears away with the back of a sleeve, and smiled anew.

“Who wants to hold it?” she asked, looking around at the others.

“Let Dane hold it first,” Bones said. “You guys found it. I mean, all we did was get beat up.”

“No, you go ahead,” Dane declined, laughing. “This was a team effort, and you guys certainly paid your dues.”

Bones took the sword from Kaylin, and held it aloft, letting the light play off the keen edges of the blade. Despite what Sowell had said, his face registered surprise.

“Man, this thing is light. And there’s not a scratch on it. The edge of the blade is perfect.” He gazed at it for a moment before passing it around the circle.

First Corey, then Matt, then Willis took a turn holding the sword. To a man, their faces registered bewilderment at the weight and condition of the ancient blade.

”No way this could be the real thing,” Willis said as he passed it to Dane. “I’m sorry to be the stick in the mud, man, but they didn’t have metals like this back then.”

Dane grasped the hilt of the sword. Light though it might be, it was perfectly balanced.

“You’re right, Willis,” he said. “They didn’t have this kind of metal back then. But there’s another problem.” He waited to see if anyone was following his train of thought. When no one spoke up, he continued. “We know that, at the very least, this sword is nearly two hundred years old. It’s been in the ground almost that long.”

“I hear you,” Willis said, a sly smile spread across his face.

“I get it,” Bones said, pounding his fist into his palm. “Whatever kind of alloy or whatever this is would have been almost as much out of the question in 1825 as it was way back when. It’s an anachronism regardless.”

“Ms. Maxwell, will you allow me to analyze the blade?” Sowell asked. “I have some tests I can run that will not damage the blade. Perhaps I can shed some light on this puzzle.”

“Please,” Kaylin said, obviously confused by this revelation. “I thought that finding the sword would be the end of the mystery, but it seems that it’s just the beginning.”

“Let’s assume that Rienzi is correct, and this is truly the sword that belonged to Goliath,” Corey said, scratching his head. “How was this thing made?”

“Maybe it was a miracle,” Kaylin said. She blushed a little as everyone looked at her. “Why not?” she asked with a touch of defiance in her voice. “David was God’s chosen warrior. Maybe when he used the sword to cut Goliath’s head off, God did something to it.”

“Back to reality,” Dane muttered. Religion of any sort was not his favorite topic.

“What’s the matter Maddock, don’t you believe in God?” Kaylin rounded on him, hands on hips and a look of challenge in her eyes. “Don’t you?”

Dane did not reply. He focused his attention on the sword, and tried to ignore the heat that was rising up the back of his neck.

“Sure he does,” Bones said after an uncomfortable silence. “They’re just taking a little time apart right now.”

“God doesn’t believe in me,” Dane growled. How could any of them understand?

“Man, my mama would take a switch to you if she heard you talking like that,” Willis said, his arms folded across his chest. He stared disapprovingly at Dane.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. His voice sounded like winter in his own ears. The others must have heard it in much the same way, because they turned away from him. Only Kaylin was not willing to change the subject.

“How about you, Dr. Sowell?” she asked the scientist. “Do you believe in God?”

The professor cleared his throat and looked down at his feet.

“I’ll admit that the universe does show some signs of some sort of, shall we say, intelligent design, but beyond that, I haven’t completely decided where I stand.”

“Bones?” Kaylin turned to the big man. “How about you? What do you think?”

“I believe in Him, but considering the way I’ve lived my life, I kind of hope I’m wrong.” He chuckled and elbowed Corey. “Ask Star Wars boy here what he thinks.”

“The Darwin fish on my car speaks for itself,” the computer specialist said.

“How can you be sayin’ that?” Willis asked. “You could have been killed when those guys attacked the boat. You should have been killed, but you got out of it. Don’t you think someone was looking out for you?”

“Yes,” Corey said. “You were looking out for us.”

“I shouldn’t have been able to do what I did. Everything went my way. And the whole time I was praying, ‘Don’t let the others hear. Don’t let me make a mistake. Don’t let my friends get killed.’ And they didn’t, and I didn’t, and you didn’t. That’s pretty amazing to me.”

“So God gave you the power to kill those guys?” Matt asked. “I didn’t think that was something Jesus approved of.”

“I don’t know how it all works,” Willis said. “I know that if I didn’t believe someone was looking out for me, it never would have happened. I know that everything went our way, even though it probably shouldn’t have. And those were bad men, so don’t go thinking I feel bad about any of it. I don’t!”

Dane did not want to hear any more. He knew for a fact that God did not intervene to help good people, but he was not going to talk about it. Something else had captured his attention.

He held the sword up to the light, and looked closely. Sure enough, there it was. Strange, alien characters were etched into the metal. They seemed to flow together in a regular, but ornate script. Something about them made goosebumps rise on his flesh. The words seemed powerful…and sinister. The others needed to see this.

“If I could interrupt the theological debate,” he said, his voice hoarse. He turned the flat of the sword blade out for them to see, “maybe the answer is in the writing etched into the blade.”