Analysis of the pillar had determined that whoever had created it had smelted iron ore that was low in sulfur and had treated the outside of the pillar in such a way that the normal elements at play within iron were realigned in a form that resisted oxidation. There was a thin layer over the outside veneer of the cast-iron pillar that oxidized only slightly like copper, which inhibited the rest of the pillar from experiencing the normal process of iron rusting when exposed to air and water.
The capability of doing such a process was beyond any Indian ironworkers of the antiquity era. Rumors abounded as to the makers of the solitary pillar monument. Most attributed its creation to the mythical land of Lemuria, which was the South Pacific’s version of Atlantis.
I rubbed my eyes hard. What was I getting into?
I’d been on the hunt for a sunken Civil War cargo laden with treasure and now I was getting mixed up in fabled lands and technologies of long-ago mythical island kingdoms. Lemuria was in the Pacific, but its twin center of learning and advancement according to popular thought was in the Atlantic where my treasure legend originated from.
I sat back in my chair thinking it all out. Did I perhaps have the key to finding Atlantis in the bag over by the door?
I hoped not!
Atlantis was the prize on every treasure hunter’s radar, but it wasn’t on mine. I wanted nothing to do with the insane wealth and prestige that finding Atlantis could bring me. I was content as things were.
If I could find the wreck of the Southern treasure fleet and do well enough to recover ten percent of its wealth I’d have enough money to pay off what I owed on the Celestia’s Prize, pay my crew a little extra and put away a little money in a bank for a rainy day.
I would be content with that. Finding Atlantis would be a different story.
I’d have every cutthroat there was not to mention every nation bordering the Atlantic Ocean trying to hone in and claim a share of the prize. I didn’t want that, but what was I to do?
I had to pay the bills somehow. This ship wasn’t free. Even sitting stationary in harbor was costing money. Money I didn’t have to spare.
I glanced at the bag on the floor. Was I getting ahead of myself?
Maybe. But then, maybe not.
Something was evident though in the mess that my legend had become, the Confederate South had not had a technological breakthrough in maritime navigation.
That truth was made evident by both the condition of the device’s older creation and by Captain Rogers’s note. He had said that the South had found it. He’d also said that he’d tried to destroy it, but had failed.
It was clear to me from his note that the warning against finding something to do with treasure was about something other than the treasure that the fleet had been carrying. Could the warning be real?
I stood up and went to the bag and rummaging around inside I found the captain’s warning note and took it back to the computer. I sat down and read the warning message again feeling the corresponding chill course through me that I had the first time I’d read it.
Something leaped out at me this time. Part of a sentence in the note seemed to line up with a verse that I had read in the Bible.
I glanced at a drawer of my desk and debated about opening it and looking through the worn Bible the drawer contained. I hadn’t opened the drawer in a long time. Three years to be exact.
I left the drawer handle untouched and turned back to my computer. It would be quicker to find the verse I wanted with an online search than to comb through page after page on my own through a physical copy of the Bible and there was no need to relive old experiences.
I typed in the phrase from the captain’s message, ‘they are dead and shall not rise’. A verse match came up instantly in response to my query. It was a verse from the Old Testament Book of Isaiah.
I read the full verse and the verses before and after as I searched for the context of the meaning of the phrase within the Captain’s note. Who was the verse talking about? It was unclear from the translation of the Bible I was reading so I changed the translation to one of the oldest available sources of the Old Testament, the Septuagint.
The verse came back up slightly different and I stared at the screen in shock. What a change one word could make!
I set the old brittle paper of the note down on the desk, as if it was burning my hand. I swallowed as I glanced over at the bag on the floor and then back to the verse on the screen. I knew too much to ignore the warning I saw before me.
Beyond a shadow of a doubt I now believed the genuineness of the Captain’s note, but what could I do about it?
Better yet what should I do with the pieces of the Orlanis Star?
I pressed my hands to my suddenly throbbing temples. I needed a second opinion.
I lowered my hands as the thought came to me of who I could enlist to help. It would mean an extra stop up the coast a ways, but a visit to an old friend might clear up all the uncertainty and perhaps provide some meaningful clarity to the situation.
As it stood at the present I didn’t even want to speak as to what was going on in my mind. Instead I much rather wanted someone to tell me so I didn’t think I was going insane. I was close enough to the brink of insanity as it was.
It was getting light outside and so I got dressed and started to head topside. I was on my way, when my gaze fell on the pack still resting on the floor. I went to it and drug it to the ship’s safe a short distance away and began to spin the dial a few times. I cranked the safe open and shoved the pack inside. I locked the safe back up and stepped back from it.
It was a temptation to leave port and find a deep hole and toss the safe and all it contained overboard. I would’ve done it to, but I needed the money. I turned and left the cabin the decision I had already made inside weighing heavily upon me.
My crew arrived one by one later in the day. Captain Flynn, as he liked to be called was the first to arrive.
Captain Flynn was the cook and general all around fix-it man whether it was an underperforming mechanical engine or a deep cut that needed stitching. In a word he was indispensable to the smooth running of the ship. He was on the north side of sixty, but as of yet he had no plans to retire from his life at sea.
He’d told me once that he’d spent twice as long at sea as he’d ever walked upon dry land and I believed him. He was the closest thing I had in the form of a friend that I would actually confide in, even though I never had.
His old weathered face wore a speculative cast to it as he studied me with his sea green eyes as his sparse white hair ruffled about in a seaward breeze, “We be in for a time of it this little jaunt out to sea aye?”
Old sailors had a way of sniffing out the undercurrents of change in the fabric of normal events. I said nothing one way or the other, as I was content to let him figure it out on his own.
He gave me a crusty smile and I saw the excitement in his old seadog eyes light up, “Reporting for duty I is Captain! Ready to sail wherever it may be to claim the prize and plunder the booty that be there.”
I let a small smile crack out in response to the old man’s sly weaseling away in an attempt to ferret out the facts of the situation. The old seadog knew somehow. He chuckled as he passed by slapping me hard on the back.
He stopped and peered back at me to ask, “Should I see that old Bessie’s in working order then Captain?”
“It wouldn’t go amiss to give her a look over and don’t forget to check up on the Children while you’re at it.”
He gave me a sharp piercing look then at the mention of ‘the Children’ before he continued on his way saying, “Aye aye Captain.”.
I heard him call out to Ortega in his usual derogatory manner, “There ye be ya hateful half troll son of a baker’s daughter. What’s this I see with my own bleeding eyes? Rust it is! Rust! What have you been doing but seeing the south end of your sack?”
Ortega’s response was fired back hotly in Spanish and I just shook my head as the long-r
unning amicable feud between the two continued on without let up.
Big Jim was the next to arrive on board. As his name suggested he was in actuality quite big. He was a native born Samoan with the menacing facial tattoos to match and he spoke even less than I did.
Big Jim’s back-story was a mystery, but I trusted him. He was my main man in the water, being himself an excellent swimmer, as well as a diver. Neither of us said anything to each other with our only nonverbal communication being a head bob and a brief meeting of the eyes.
An hour later my last crewmember arrived, only she wasn’t alone. She had a younger girl with her and my lips tightened at the sight of trouble on the horizon. Now what?
Serena came up the ladder looking a bit nervous, but determined. The younger girl, who I put to be in her mid teens, followed and it was apparent that there was some family resemblance involved between the two women. I’d probably already lost the fight, but I kept my face sternly disapproving anyway.
Serena stepped up in front of me and resolutely said, “It’s like this Captain, my sister, remember I told you about her, well she lives in……”
“Serena.” I said firmly cutting off whatever roundabout description she’d been about to untangle before me.
She sighed loudly and cut to the chase, “She’s my niece and she needs to get out of town for a while.”
“This could be a tough trip out Serena, with no place for an inexperienced girl to be of help.” I said in a tone that brooked no response.
Serena went on though, “She’s gotten mixed up with a gang leader and her mother asked me for help. What was I to do? Please Captain!”
I glanced from Serena to the girl, who couldn’t be much more than sixteen, if that. The girl’s arms were folded across herself and she had a rebellious look to her.
“Serena this isn’t a daycare facility for horny teenagers without any common sense!” I said in a heated tone.
Serena’s fingers reached out and she squeezed my arm imploringly, “Please Captain! I promised my sister.” Serena said begging softly to me in a personal tone that I couldn’t ignore.
I sighed loudly as I admitted the battle lost.
“She has to bunk with you. I’m not kicking any of the men out of their berths!”
“Perfectly fine Captain! We’ll be as snug as two bugs in a rug.”
I nodded and approached the girl, who watched me come toward her a bit trepidatiously. She didn’t move away though and I gave her credit for having some courage.
I was imposing to most people I met and smaller than only a few, such as Big Jim.
“What’s your name?” I asked a little harshly.
The girl stayed mutinously silent. I needed a rope. One was lobbed through the air at me from Big Jim. He and I had our own connection of thought at times.
I made a loop and lassoed it over the girl and then jerking her to the opening in the railing I tipped her back over the side and held the rope with one hand as her haughty look disappeared to be replaced with naked fear. Her arms were bound to her sides by the loop of rope and she was helpless to avoid falling if I should let go of the rope.
“What is your name?” I repeated.
“Christina!” She was quick to respond with looking very much terrified by the sudden change of events.
“Christina while on board my ship you will be a model citizen. You will do as you’re told, when you are told to, without any backtalk. Do I make myself clear?”
The girl nodded her head vigorously as her feet were poised on the edge of the ship’s platform, while the rest of her hung over into space above the waters of the harbor.
“Yes Sir.” I said.
“Yes Sir!” She quickly stated and I pulled her back upright and let go of the rope, which she hurriedly stepped free of in her movement to get away from both me and the opening of the ship’s railing.
Giving her one last hard look I turned away and said, “Pull up the anchor Big Jim and start the engines Ortega. We’re headed out.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Christina stood rubbing at her arms where the rope had cut in as she watched the tall black man that was the Captain stride away along the deck. There wasn’t one doubt in her mind that he would have let go of the rope if she’d been smart with her response.
Selena stepped up and patted her niece on the back, “Welcome aboard.”
Christina gave her a glare in return. None of this had been her idea!
“Thanks a lot dear Auntie! You and Mom have really done it to me this time! I’ll be lucky to survive a voyage with Captain Ahab over there!” Christina said hotly.
Selena looked after the Captain, “He can be hard, but he’s still a good man at heart. He won’t let any harm come to you.”
Christina snorted derisively in response and Selena smacked her hard with her hand across the face.
“Ow!” Christina exclaimed looking at Selena with shocked hurt in her eyes.
“Welcome to life at sea Christina. You’ll learn soon enough that I won’t tolerate anymore from you than the Captain will.”
Selena started off then and Christina quickly whined out, “How long will we be at sea?”
Selena shrugged, “Who can tell, only the Captain knows that.”
Selena disappeared from view and Christina grabbed a hold of the railing as the Celestia’s Prize took off from the harbor with power. She was so sorry now for whatever she’d done to make her mother hate her so much to do this to her. She’d be lucky to come back alive from this trip.
Chapter Three
The Shadow Beckons
We made our way up the coast to Baltimore. It was evening by the time the ship was all squared away in the bustling harbor of the Chesapeake Bay. I headed for shore alone in the dinghy. When I had left I had seen Christina at the railing staring at the wharf in the distance like she was contemplating swimming for it.
Poor girl had been nothing but seasick ever since we had left Charleston. I had almost debated about taking her along with me to shore and giving her some cash so she could make her own way home, but it wasn’t my place to do that.
Tough love was one thing, but I hoped that the girl’s mother reconsidered the next time about the wisdom of abandoning her child to the mercy of the sea. That was if there would be a next time.
I tied the dinghy off and slung the heavy pack over my shoulder as I stepped up onto the dock. A feeling of foreboding significance haunted my steps, as I made my way up the boardwalk to hail a taxi at a nearby street.
It took a while to escape the congestion of the city to make our way into the more posh suburban neighborhoods at its periphery. The taxi stopped outside of a Georgian style house at the end of a cul-de-sac in one such posh neighborhood.
I gave the taxi driver enough money to wait and got out with the bag in tow. The evening was a noisy one with the sound of cicadas and other insects filling the evening breeze with their cacophony of sound.
I made my way up the paver driveway and then up the walkway that led to the pretentious looking pillared entrance of the house. I knocked heavily on the door and waited. After a moment the door opened to reveal my former brother-in-law, Matthew Reese.
He gazed at me in shock for a moment before pushing the glasses back on the bridge of his nose as he recovered from his shock somewhat. In a dazed tone he asked, “What’s it been Eli, three, four years now?”
“Six.” I said.
I’d never particularly had an invested relationship with Laura’s brother, but he was good at what he did, which was anything to do with the field of archaeology.
He stepped back and held the door open wider and I stepped in. I’d been here once before and while the exterior was the same the interior of the house surprisingly wasn’t.
I glanced around surprised at the bare rooms empty of furniture and embellishment. The house appeared as if its contents had already been moved elsewhere. I hadn’t pictured Matt as the moving kind.
I gl
anced questioningly at him and he shrugged, “I lost my job at the University two years ago and I couldn’t find another one. Cindy left me six months ago and with the divorce now final I have to sell the house.”
I looked around again at what had once been a home in better times.
“I’m sorry to see it come to this between you and Cindy.” I said with genuine regret.
He nodded and looked choked up for a moment before he looked away. He looked back to me with a mask firmly in place and with a hint of curiosity pervading his voice he asked, “So what’s in the bag?”
I looked around for a table and he gestured into another room that was dark. I stepped toward it, but stopped dead, as he flipped the light switch on and revealed the big oaken dining room table that the room held within its confines.
The one time I’d been here before had been for a Thanksgiving dinner. I’d had my family with me then.
“I’m sorry Eli! I wasn’t thinking! I’ve got a table in another room we can use.” Matt said apologizing all over himself.
I broke free of my trance and headed to the big table, which I unloaded my bag onto, as I concentrated on getting my emotions firmly in check.
“This is for your eyes only Matt. I’m trusting you to keep what you see in the strictest of confidences.” I said firmly.
He nodded eagerly, as he pressed closer to the table.
I started to take out the five petal pieces followed by the central crystal piece, which I sat down in the middle of the petals already arranged on the table.
“It’s the….”
“Orlanis Star!” Matt said finishing for me in a daze, as he stared down at the artifacts on the table.
He shook his head back and forth, “It’s not at all what I expected!”
“Me neither. I found them with this note from Captain Rogers in the attic of a house he once stayed in.” I said, as I handed the note over to Matt and watched his eyes go big as he read.
He reread it through several times before glancing up at me, “My friend I fear you’ve traded one treasure quest for another.”
I sighed bitterly at the confirmation of my thoughts.
Matt shook his head at me smiling wryly, “I swear you must be the one man on God’s green Earth that would react just so to finding out that your Civil War treasure hunt just became one of a far grander scale.”
Journey into the Deep Page 2
