by Dan Kolbet
“When I went to see him, he’d gone on a romantic weekend with Kathryn Tate to Arizona.”
The words hit her like a sledgehammer. That didn’t sound like a cover story. That sounded like something Luke would want to do. He had taken her for a long weekend at a resort in Phoenix to celebrate their engagement. They spent all day under the umbrellas at the pool and then spent all night in bed together.
She continued to stare at the picture of Luke kissing that woman. She imagined them lying by the pool, enjoying cold drinks in the hot sun. It was awful. She physically shook her head to remove the image. But the photographs were still in her hands. She turned them over. And that’s when the tears started.
She loved him so much, how could he hurt her like this? Again? The ruse of leaving her the first time was enough to break her heart, but she understood why he felt like he needed to do it. Now this. It was too much.
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to-“
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know exactly, but he just left Arizona on a flight to the Caribbean.”
“With her?”
“He bought two tickets to some small island.”
“Why?”
“I honestly don’t know, but its clear he’s gone off the rails.”
Chapter 35
Federation of Saint Kitts and Nevis
The island Federation of Saint Kitts and Nevis is located roughly 200 miles southeast of Puerto Rico and 50 miles south of Antigua in the Caribbean Sea. Christopher Columbus gave the island the name San Martin in 1498, but the name was changed later to avoid confusion with other islands of the same name. The British settled the islands in the mid 1600s, but fought with the native population and the French for control of the tropical lands for centuries. After the succession of Antigua, it became an autonomous state in the 1960s.
Nevis, to the south, is smaller than the island of Saint Kitts. Both have a combined population of around 50,000. Island-wide electricity wasn’t in place on Nevis until the 1970s, when diesel generators were installed. Wind, solar and diesel generation now serve as the primary source of electricity.
Nevis Peak, sits at the center of the island and tops out at more than 3,000 feet above sea level. The top of the dormant volcano can be seen from most anywhere on the small island on a clear day. StuTech’s wireless technology had not touched the island.
Luke could see the top of the volcano’s crater as their small prop plane swept in for a landing at the airport on the northern tip of the island. It took just under an hour to fly the final leg of the trip after changing planes in Puerto Rico.
Kathryn had been reluctant to take the journey.
“Flying to the middle of the Atlantic Ocean on a hunch is a waste of our time,” she said. “You could have tried a little harder to get him to send us these samples. We don’t even know what they are.”
“He doesn’t know that Kirkhorn died. If I would have pushed him to do it over the phone, he might have asked to speak with him. This way we can at least get an idea what material he was getting from the island.”
“How could it possibly matter?”
“You’re the one who said I was supposed to find a link between Kirkhorn’s work and StuTech. I’m trying to find a link.”
“I think you just want to spend the company’s money on a trip to the tropics.”
“Well, yes, it does have its drawbacks,” he said, putting on his sunglasses and walking down the plane’s steps to the tarmac.
“I guess it couldn’t hurt to get a little sun while we’re here,” she said, finally noticing the beautiful surroundings.
“That’s the spirit.”
***
Luke tasked Kathryn with a little scouting work to check out the security at the port of entry. It seemed rather lax on the trip in, but going out might be another story based on what Dr. Rigau had said. Luke went to the college to meet his contact alone.
The school was on the east side of the island, facing the Atlantic Ocean. The tiny campus was beautiful, just steps away from the beach amidst lush tropical greenery. Students milled about between the buildings or sat in circles on the lawns with their textbooks open. Going to school in the tropics looked rather nice.
He could see why Loretta had liked the island so much. It was a tropical paradise. There didn’t seem to be hordes of tourists clogging up the streets either. Unlike the commercialism that sustained places like Puerto Rico, Barbados and most of the Bahamas, Nevis seemed unspoiled. The beaches weren’t lined with surf shops and burger stands, but rather native restaurants and small businesses that catered to residents – not sunburned tourists.
The largest building on the medical school campus had a white stucco exterior and a slightly pitched red roof built to withstand seasonal hurricanes. The receptionist at the front desk said she’d page Dr. Rigau, but it might be a few minutes. He wandered over to the waiting area. The walls were lined with graduating class pictures dating back to the late 1980s when the school was officially formed. The smiling faces of a dozen students and their teachers were on full display in the outdoor photographs. On the way in he saw the tiered landscape, including the school’s welcome sign, which was used in the pictures.
Luke nearly fell over when he saw the last picture on the wall. The date etched into the lower right-hand corner said “June 1984.” Standing among a happy group of co-eds and a handful of other teachers was Professor Blaine Kirkhorn in a stark white lab coat.
“I remember that day well. It was the day before a large tropical storm hit the island,” said an elderly man in a janitor’s uniform, holding a broom. “We had to move the graduation ceremony up a full day back in ’84 to ensure the students and their families were off the island before it made landfall. What a mess we had to clean up the next day.”
Luke pointed to the photograph of Professor Kirkhorn.
“Can you tell me who this man is in the picture?”
“Unless I’m in the wrong waiting area, Luke, you should know who that is,” the man said with a grin, extending his hand. “Pleased to meet you, I’m Dr. Estevan Rigau, the school’s caretaker.”
***
Estevan led Luke down the hallway to a narrow windowless office that included a desk, small sofa and what seemed like the entirety of the school’s cleaning supplies. A single bare bulb was suspended above their heads for light. Estevan closed the door.
“I may have misled you somewhat,” Estevan said. “But when you told me you worked with Brother Kirkhorn, I thought that maybe you could help us. I knew that you were lying to me, about who you were, since the man has been dead for many years now, but I thought it was worth a shot. I looked you up after we spoke and saw that at one time you did work for Brother Kirkhorn. Maybe it was selfish of me, but I hoped you could help.”
“Help you how?”
“By continuing our research.”
Luke took a seat on the janitor’s dusty sofa.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what research you’re referring to. That’s the reason I’m here,” he said. “And, I’m sorry, but aren’t you the janitor?”
“Yes I am, but there was a time, before I lost my medical license, that I ran the medical research wing of this hospital and we were the best in all of the Caribbean. And before you laugh that off, know this, our work wasn’t hampered by American laws that discourage innovation. Brother Kirkhorn and I were researching medicinal uses for an unpublished rare earth element.”
“He was researching a drug?
“Not a drug, but the application of this material on the human body,” Estevan said.
“But he wasn’t a medical researcher, he was a minerals expert.”
“Yes, and that’s why he needed me. And why I needed him,” the elderly man said, taking off this baseball cap and wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Unfortunately my friend, he’s dead, as you can now see I’m just the janitor.”
“I think I need to
know a little more about you and the professor,” Luke said.
“How much time do you have?”
“As long as it takes.”
“Then, I’ll tell you what I recall.”
Chapter 36
Nevis Island
September 1965
Blaine Kirkhorn had to escape the confines of the hospital. For nearly three full days, he had sat vigil at his new bride’s bedside. The burns on her leg from their rented motorcycle had to be aired out in the open, not wrapped up with gauze. She had to stay in the sterile hospital atmosphere so infection wouldn’t set in. Ointments had to be applied to the wound every hour so it didn’t dry out. The constant stream of nurses meant neither Loretta, nor he could get any sleep at night, or any privacy during the day. It was a great, romantic honeymoon indeed.
At least he could leave on his own free will. Loretta was stuck. He convinced one of the nurses to apply a little extra ointment and skip the next hourly dose so Loretta could get a little extra shut-eye and he could stretch his legs. Of course, she’d been telling him to leave since the first day.
“Just because I’m stuck here, doesn’t mean this has to ruin our whole trip,” Loretta had told him. “Go enjoy this beautiful island. Explore that volcano you wanted to see.”
He may have only been married for a few weeks, but he saw the trappings of a grudge that could be held for a lifetime, so he played the part of the dutiful husband and stayed with her. He wanted to be near her anyhow, but the chivalry lasted for about two days, and now he needed a break. Blaine wasn’t used to being trapped inside a room all day. The white walls and ticking clock were enough to drive him crazy. His work as a junior mineral analyst for Pearson International Mines kept him in the field for most of his days, which was preferable to a desk job in his opinion.
Blaine turned down one of the hospital’s side hallways and found an exit. He was immediately blasted with the heat from the orange tropical sunlight and sweltering humidity. It felt good. He found a path worn into the crabgrass and followed it parallel to the beach. Like most of the beaches on Nevis, it wasn’t filled with sun worshipers. Just a handful of locals were reading under an umbrella or out for a stroll. The riptide that surrounded the island made swimming near shore all but impossible, except for the most adept swimmer, so most people didn’t go in past their knees.
The path continued around a small cove and up a slight incline to an overlook about 40 feet from the water below. A three-rail wooden fence bordered the trail at its highest point. A weathered sign said the name of the place. “Columbus Pointe, where the great explorer first spotted our peaceful island.” Blaine noted the irony of that statement, the natives honoring their discovery.
Just over the crest of the cove, the path turned back toward town and into a narrow, but bustling marketplace on State Street. Merchants lined the street with carts set out to display their wares. The smell of roasted pork made his mouth water. The meat and other island delicacies sizzled on open grills. Tourists were haggling over the prices for fruit, jewelry, colored seashells and coral, lengths of cloth and island trinkets.
He wandered the street and stopped at a cart selling jewelry. Loretta didn’t like to wear a lot of jewelry – a reflection of her growing up on a farm. She was a self-proclaimed simple girl. But he thought, if nothing else, she should have something to commemorate the honeymoon other than a scar on her right leg the size of a loaf of bread.
“And a good day to you sir,” said the boy staffing the cart. He couldn’t be older than 10. “What can we do for you? Anything in particular you looking for? Our pieces are one of a kind. They bring out the emotion in your body.”
“And how do they do that exactly?” Blaine asked.
“Just pick one that you fancy, hold it tight in your hand and close to your heart and you will see.”
The necklaces and bracelets all hung on red, black or brown leather cords and featured shaped stone pendants on each. There were numerous pendants to choose from, like a dolphin, moon, sun, star, pineapple and heart. To his surprise, he couldn’t tell the make up of the stone, something he could normally do at just a glance.
“What are these shapes made of?” He asked.
“This I can never tell. The mysteries of the island cannot be revealed to our treasured visitors.”
Of course, he wouldn’t want to let the tourists know about the con. Blaine picked up a necklace with a red leather cord and a one-inch wide heart pendant. He held it out in front of him. It was possible that the rock was Chert due to its wave-like features that showed several shades of gray, but the polish on the stone made it difficult to tell. Chert was often used in pre-historic weapons because it held a strong sharp edge, but these ripples in the stone didn’t look natural, they were too symmetrical.
“Hold it close to your heart, and see if this is the one for you,” the boy said.
Blaine clutched the pendant in his hand and held it in a fist over his heart. He felt like reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. It wasn’t particularly heavy. In fact, it seemed lighter than what he’d expected. But then, inexplicably, the stone started to wiggle ever so slightly between his palm and fingers. He opened his fist and examined the stone, turning it over and over in his hand.
“I see you’ve made a connection. For you today, we can make a great bargain.”
Blaine wasn’t listening. He’d studied minerals for years and held advanced degrees in geology and physics. Stones, just stones, don’t move on their own. It was impossible. He grabbed another stone shaped like a sail boat and held it in his hand. Just as the other had, the boat seemed to vibrate when he held it tight.
“What do you call this jewelry?”
“Today we call it Antoine’s Jewelry, but tomorrow we can call it yours. Let’s talk about your bargain-”
“No, I mean the stone in Antoine’s Jewelry. What is that called? If you can’t tell me what is it, you can tell me what you call it, especially for someone who is willing to buy three pieces, right?”
Blaine pulled a wad of cash out of his front pocket to show he was serious.
“My family has always called it viberock. That’s all I know, we’re the only ones on the island to have it, so it’s your lucky day.”
“Vibe-rock, like vibrating rock?”
“I suppose so. Now, let’s make a deal.”
Blaine paid $6 a piece for the three largest pendants, a moon, sun and star to go along with Loretta’s heart necklace. The price was outrageous, but it was a curious find. When he got back to the U.S. he would break the pendants in half and use a magnifier at Pearson’s lab to identify what exactly was inside this stone.
He bought some grilled pork and slices of fruit, and ate them as he hurried back to the hospital before Loretta woke up.
When he got back to Loretta’s room, she was still asleep, so he took a seat in the hallway to avoid disturbing her. He pulled out the pendants and looked over every millimeter trying to determine the origin. When a nurse down the hall left her station to deal with a patient, Blaine borrowed the reading glasses she left behind. By holding the lenses of the glasses a few inches away from the pendant, he could slightly magnify the surface. Like he suspected, the ripples in the stone looked even smoother on a larger scale. While the pendants didn’t have a matching pattern, the angle of each stripe inside the stone looked similar. It was like nothing he’d ever seen.
“Nurse Harris won’t be a happy woman when she returns and finds she is unable to read the orders I have just set on her desk,” said a young doctor with the name Rigau stitched into his white coat.
“I was just trying to get a closer look at these trinkets I bought for my wife,” Blaine said, embarrassed to be caught stealing the nurses glasses.
“No harm done, she’s dealing with a pesky patient in Room 112 and won’t be back for a few minutes.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want to upset the people in charge of my wife’s care.”
“You’re right about that. The nurses have mo
re pull around here than most doctors, especially first-year residents like me.”
The doctor sat down in the chair across from Blaine.
“It looks like you’ve been to State Street?”
“Yes, I bought these necklaces there today. They’re the strangest things.”
“Viberock.”
“Oh, you’ve heard the mystical island legend then?”
“Heard it? I probably made the one shaped like the star. That was my specialty. No one else in the family could get the points to match equally. You probably met my cousin Antoine, right?”
“Your cousin is some salesman,” Blaine said. “So tell me, what type of stone is this?
“I’ve actually tried to find it on a identification chart many times and haven’t been able to. And I doubt you can identify it with those glasses either.”
“Because I need higher magnification?”
“No, because we grind it up into tiny little pieces, boil it to a liquid and reform it to the shape we need.”
“That’s not possible. The only liquid rock on this island would be flowing out of the top of Nevis Peak. The temperature would have to get to be at least 700 degrees Celsius before it would act as a liquid.”
“I’ve seen it happen hundreds of times in my grandfather’s backyard.”
“Impossible,” he repeated.
“Well, the proof is in your hand.”
“So you say. Where does the original rock come from?”
“As my cousin Antoine would say, ‘the mysteries of the island cannot be revealed to our treasured visitors.’ But I’ll tell you what - I believe your wife will be with us for another night. If you’re interested, I could show you the process. It’s only a short drive from here. It’ll only cost you the price of a nice island meal for a medical student burdened with too much school loan debt. We had to sell a lot of Viberock to pay for my education.”
“Anything to see you liquefy this rock.”
