”You see, the merit for the discovery of the Trojan Horse belongs more to him than to me. He put together all the clues. All I had left to do was find the sponsors to finance the expedition. We went for a sure thing. The Horse was waiting for me in Calypso Deep, unmoved for thousands of years.”
”So, your father thought it was cursed?” Timea repeated what she had just heard from Marion.
”Yes, he insisted on this until his last breath. But I don't believe you could accept something like this. You're both doctors, scientists, after all!”
”Quartz has magical powers, you know!” Ronnie intervened. ”Or at least, some people think so!”
”What the hell are you talking about?” Ryan said. ”We don't have time for this idiocy!”
”It's not idiocy! I've read many esoteric books and I'm passionate about supernatural mysteries!” Ronnie retorted.
”How old are you? You still believe in wizards and sorceries, huh?”
Ronnie blushed.
”Not really, no. Deep down in my heart, I rather believe...”
He wanted to say that he was inclined to believe that there was a scientific explanation for everything. But that the explanation for certain phenomena had not yet been found, therefore... maybe... other resources had to be accessed. But Timea spoke:
”There has to be a connection between the Horse and what's going on! There has to!! I'm not buying their explanations. The authorities should have stopped the exhibition ten times by now!”
”Jesus! You have this fixed idea!!” Marion exclaimed. ”Don't you get it? My father didn’t get near it, not even close! I did, but nothing happened to me! You recovered, and so did Ronnie! Ryan wasn't affected at all! Don't you see that nothing makes sense in this whole theory of yours? Don't tell me you believe in this quartz aberration?”
”Of course I don't! I have pieces of quartz jewellery and I have never fainted while wearing them! Quartz is nothing but silicone dioxide, what harm could it do?”
”What about those crystals that caused the earthquake?” Ryan said. ”I've read everything about this discovery! There's more than quartz in that statue!”
”The klonymium crystals? They discharged thousands of years ago.” Marion said.
”It's true!” she continued. “Contrary to expectations, the ancient Greeks seemed to have solid knowledge of klonymium crystals, although these crystals were believed to have been a discovery of the present century, a discovery that is unfortunately quite dangerous for humanity. A few things about them are already known.”
She turned on her laptop.
“Look at this presentation. This is what I said at the press conference. It's all over the internet. Haven't you read it? It's already known, for example, that these crystals, after they accumulated a certain amount of solar energy, would enter a strong oscillatory phase that would culminate in the generation of a seismic radial wave. Look at this diagram!” Marion pointed to the screen. “According to the computerized simulations, it was concluded that, depending on the size of the generator conglomerate of crystals, the seismic wave could produce an earthquake in a range of 5 to 55 kilometres, with a magnitude between 5 and 7.8 on the Richter scale.”
“I have seen those charts,” Ryan said. “Actually, they are part of the demonstration.”
“What demonstration?” Timea asked.
“The demonstration of the theory that Troy fell because of an earthquake that weakened the walls. This theory has been proven to be true. Taking into account the size of the artifact discovered by Marion, the scientists estimated that the charge of the crystals generated an earthquake of between 6.5 and 7.3 on the Richter scale,” Ryan added. His words matched the figures on Karides' monitor.
The young archaeologist continued:
“At present, however, there are some aspects that could further diminish the danger of discovering, or more precisely, rediscovering the klonymium crystals: to date, only two conglomerates have been discovered on Earth, no matter how much research and prospecting has been carried out, and these two proved to be almost impossible to excavate because of the depth they were in. In addition, the first one discovered has already been exhausted. At the time of its discovery, the ability of the crystals to enter the oscillatory phase after being charged with solar energy was not known. Right after its excavation, the prospectors subjected it to invasive procedures, removing the quartz bubble in the middle of which were the klonymium crystals. So, once exposed to the sunlight, the crystals charged themselves with photons, entered the oscillatory phase and discharged. Fortunately, there were no casualties.”
Marion kept speaking while showing slides, figures and charts. The seismic wave generated by the crystals had maximum intensity only within a relatively small radius, and after 25 kilometres it started fading. The production and propagation mechanisms had not yet been fully elucidated. Various countries had made simulations and computerized models; but in the end, in the absence of physical tests performed with actual crystals, there were still many speculations and undocumented hypotheses. Marion took one more sip of coffee and said:
“Another aspect is that the load is practically disposable, the oscillatory capacity of the crystals being completely exhausted after they are discharged. For many months, I studied the clues my father had gathered, and the only conclusion I came to, along with many other historians, was that the Greeks had possessed and used a conglomerate of such crystals. Supporting this hypothesis, alongside all the documents from my father's file, came the fact that the second deposit of crystals was also found not far from the location of Troy. As with the first deposit, the crystals were embedded in a huge spherical quartz mass. This second conglomerate of klonymium is the only active one currently in existence, and is therefore kept in a vacuum, in complete darkness and far from any experiments. I repeat: how come nothing has happened to you? How come nothing happened to me when I discovered the statue? What about my team? Shouldn't we have been the first ones to be affected? I think we're chasing our tails here.”
They all remained silent, nodding. Ryan kept receiving reports from the Ministry on his phone. The wave of deaths had hit London. The situation from Athens was repeating itself: the same queues at the exhibition site, the same heat. People were fainting and taken to the hospitals. Some of them were discharged, some of them were dying. Nobody wanted to create panic. The authorities had imposed no alert, no warnings. What the sponsors had invested over years they were recovering in days, because the exhibition continued to enjoy a thundering success. Timea resumed the discussion:
”Who placed the Horse at the bottom of the sea?”
”Based on a lot of evidence, the Greeks.” Marion answered. ”After they used it for destroying Troy from the inside, they transported it to the sea. From what we can figure out, they knew exactly where the deepest area of the sea was, so they threw it out there.”
”But if those crystals can cause an earthquake only once, why did they bother?” Ryan asked.
“Most likely, they didn't know. Or they didn’t want to risk it... The documents found by my father mentioned the wonderful statue offered to Troy by the Greeks, a statue that was exposed in the public square and which held inhuman powers of evil. The papers also mentioned the properties of the statue: A sand diamond that glittered in the sunlight and had an unearthly beauty. Moreover, they mentioned the living force of the gods contained within the statue: a force, the inscriptions said, that clustered and clustered some more, until no stone of Troy remained in its place, because lost forever was the power of the glorious city of yore”.
“I've read about this.” Ryan said. “I think this description is now included in the exhibition's brochure.”
Karides answered:
“I smiled while reading the interpretation of those who had made the notes and correlated them with some older articles I had read. I remembered some references from those articles to traditional Tibetan medicine and to metaphysical methods of body healing; quartz was conside
red there – of course by those who believed in this spiritual mumbo-jumbo – the crystal with the greatest energetic properties. With the Horse, all the information and facts converged to the assumption of a crystal deposit, which had been found deep underground by the Greeks, just like the one found in modern times.”
“Consequently, everyone presumed, based on your evidence, and on the contemporary discovery of the last deposit of klonymium crystals as well, that the Greeks had carved this huge conglomerate of spherical quartz with klonymium crystals, away from the light, into the beautiful statue that we saw.” Ryan said.
Marion nodded.
“I played in my mind, over and over, the film of this breakthrough. Sometimes” she sighed “memories can be overwhelming. When my father caught me reading the file tied in calf leather, we argued for hours. I reproached him for hiding in his drawer what could have been by far the greatest archaeological breakthrough of the century. My father roared like a lion, then he begged me to forget that file. He threatened me and then he switched to prayers again. He told me about the evil that the artifact would unleash upon mankind if it were ever brought to light. I mocked him, accusing him of talking like a superstitious old woman. 'I can understand the spiritual bewilderment of the Greeks in those times. At least, they believed in gods and supernatural powers. But what is your excuse?! You're a scientist!! How can you talk to me about curses?! I'm so deeply dismayed by your superstitious attitude!' I said to him... Look at these figures. I convinced myself in no time that there was no danger. As long as the klonymic inclusion had already discharged, it was too bad, it was inconceivable for a scholar to accept that this archaeological dream would remain buried at the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea. A few years of thorough research followed, but also of training, finding sponsors and preparing the expedition. New Ulysses is a technical wonder. On board that submarine, we reached Calypso Deep. We had countless adventures during the expedition, but we succeeded. I wouldn't have lived in peace with myself if I had left the Horse under the sea. I only regret that my father didn't live to see it. But I could not accept what the Greeks had decided to do, whatever their reason was. ”
“Maybe they didn’t want anybody to learn the secret,” Ronnie said.
Soon, a new idea started taking shape in their dialogue: if the old archaeologist had discovered and gathered all the information, if he had been the one who had insisted that his daughter not initiate the expedition, if his death was suspicious after all, maybe he as well, even after his disappearance, held the key. They agreed that Marion should return to his office, to search through his documents and maybe she would have the luck to discover some clue.
All the things around him fascinated Ronnie. He had been passionate about archaeology since his childhood. Now that he had met Marion Karides in person, the greatest archaeologist of his time, he led the discussion in a different direction. He wanted to be Marion's assistant and thus follow his passion. He was a student of Literature, but he could move to History. Karides didn't reject the idea of having a student to mentor. She had often denied teaching positions, she explained, because nothing could ever compare, in her mind, with travelling this wide world, looking for artifacts or clues, through which to enrich or even change what was already known about a certain event or character of the past. But Ronnie... Ronnie had a spark in his eyes... he had that curiosity... So she accepted his plan. The next day, he went to the university and submitted his written request for a transfer to History. It proved to be just a formality because even though many teachers had called him a moony young man, he was an award-winning student, and the Faculty of History received him with open arms. Marion called the Dean and asked him to facilitate the transfer of her assistant. The Dean, although on summer vacation, decided to rush things and not wait for the beginning of the academic year. Ronnie was a promising candidate, and a request from Marion Karides was hard to ignore. Moreover, the fact that the faculty had as a student even the assistant of the most famous archaeologist of the century, could only mean positive publicity. However, he was asked to pass a test, so that they could complete his dossier properly. The questions regarding Europe in the 19th century, and those about Antiquity and the Middle Ages as well, were a piece of cake for Ronnie. There were only two questions that he didn't answer, about East Asian history. The Dean, however, considered that a score of 98% was more than he had imagined, so he signed the transfer on the very same day. The next stage was gaining the approval of the sponsors of the expedition, who signed Karides's request to have a paid assistant during the academic vacations without asking too many questions. Ronnie was congratulated and assured by everyone of all possible support.
After the euphoria of the moment began to fade, they decided to visit Marion's father's now closed home office. All of Marion's attempts to transform what was happening into an official matter remained without result. There was still no objective clue that could link the deaths within the hospitals with the Trojan Horse. Ryan's repeated visits to various authorities didn't result in a single official statement. Since her father's death, Marion had never visited her parents' house. Her mother preferred to live in Greece, and she preferred, in the limited spare time she had between travels, conferences and book launches, to stay in her apartment not far from the airport – Marion explained to her friends.
They approached the house, talking about the notes or other new clues that they might find: maybe Marion's father had left his daughter a letter, an archaeological testament or maybe a different map that could lead to an answer. In his office, they found the curtains drawn. Ronnie sneezed over a desk and a cloud a dust rose into the air. In a corner stood a withered fig tree, and piles of shriveled books and yellowed papers were crowding the place.
”It will take us forever to find anything in here!” Ryan said.
They split the office into imaginary sections and each of them started searching an area. The old archaeologist didn’t have a computer on his desk. “My father didn’t collect information electronically. He wrote everything down, filling mountains of notebooks.” Each drawer had to be opened, each book, leafed and each note, read. The leather dossier Marion had found, leading her to her discovery, was there, but she already knew every page, every word by heart.
“Someone like your father had to leave some clues or notes somewhere!” Timea said.
They managed to find some sort of atlas of maritime geography and hydrology, with maps and descriptions. It was more like a manual. Marion said:
“Obviously, he read up on the Mediterranean Sea. He wasn't passionate about technology. Furthermore, at the time when he was gathering proof about the Trojan horse and its location, Internet and computers were not yet so important in archaeology, and the historians still used classical reference sources. Even I, who appreciate the enormous input of technology in discovering and evaluating artifacts, have remained deep down in my heart an old fashion historian. In my opinion, regarding the facts of the past, the true springs of wisdom and knowledge cannot be found online, but in ancient inscriptions, old notes and maps drawn by venturesome ancestors.”
In that atlas, her father had marked Calypso Deep and highlighted a few technical paragraphs. The highlighted fragments emphasised the risks a dive at such great depth would impose. It was quite an old book, and it referred to outdated equipment. The old man had coloured and encircled the word "risk". After hours and hours of searching, all they could find was an old manual. They looked around. They had taken the paintings down from the walls, picked up the statues, rummaged through all the drawers, hoping to find a safe, a hidden compartment, a ciphered message. Sweating, with their palms blackened by dust and their backs aching, they had nothing left to search.
”Did your father keep his work anywhere else?” Ryan asked.
“Not as far as I know. He didn't trust anyone. He worked only at home. He made quite a ritual out of his work, and no one was allowed to enter his office. I broke this rule more than once and the only time he caught me
was when I discovered the proofs about the Horse. At first I thought he was telling me off because I had rummaged through his things.”
“But that wasn't why, was it?”
“No, he was shouting at me, trying to convince me to never commence the search...”
“I know, you've already told us. But it doesn't help us...” Ryan continued. “What about your mother? Maybe she knows something about his research.”
”I don't think so. I've never heard him talking to mum about his projects. Furthermore, she has never shown the slightest interest. This profession of ours... she has never liked it.”
“Maybe you should call her, though.”
On Ryan’s insistence, Marion called her mother. After a minute or two, during which Marion remained silent, she rolled her eyes and turned on the speaker. Her mother wanted to know if her daughter was fine, if she was thinking of giving up archaeology and taking a job at the university, to teach history, if she had recently met any cute teachers. Marion interrupted her:
”Mum, please, I don't have time for this. Please help me with something important. Did dad ever tell you about the Trojan Horse?”
Angela snorted in discontent. What was the point of this kind of discussion? But no, her husband had never told her about the Trojan Horse. Marion insisted, trying to make her remember if the old archaeologist had ever spoken about Greeks, the Trojan War or the Mediterranean Sea. Angela shouted:
”Marion, you know very well that your father and I never spoke about his work. You're acting weird. Why would he have told me about the sea?”
“Mum, try to remember. It's crucial for history.”
“For God's sake, Marion, you're exactly like your father! You think only about your nonsense and old rocks! Your father, in his last year, did not even want to hear about the sea, not to mention speak about it.”
“What do you mean he didn't want to hear about the sea?”
”You remember how much I insisted on him giving up work and coming here, to Skiathos, to rest. He was pale, weakened and nervous and I thought he would recover here.”
The Trojan Horse Pandemic Page 5
