"Hmm, yes, that ass," she remarked, as she cocked her head and had a look as she had done before. "Going to miss that especially."
Sam could not put his finger on it, but Calisto possessed something that made him delightfully uncomfortable, ultimately making him feel that awkward teenage excitement he used to enjoy when schoolgirls flirted with him. She was somehow unattainable, just like those girls, but she was kind enough to entertain him with her wiles. Had she not been so dangerous he might well have trusted being alone with her in a toilet cubicle.
"Sam!" Nina exclaimed loudly from the doorway, catching the two in the middle of an intense moment she did not like one bit. She composed herself and hoped that she was making unfounded assumptions at what she had just interrupted.
"You need to see this! They found something amazing in the minisub," she continued and grabbed Sam by the hand to lead him away. It was the instinctive thing to do. And around the likes of Calisto, it paid to have your instincts on alert.
☼
Chapter 28
Dave Purdue stood in the control room when Nina and Sam entered. He was pacing up and down, fingers rubbing his chin in deep thought over some conundrum in his brain.
"Mr. Purdue?" Sam said.
Purdue snapped out of whatever thinking war he was engaged in and seemed excited to see them.
"Ah! Mr. Cleave, Dr. Gould! They found an object in the recovered minisub. An interesting looking object, at that. I was hoping you could have a look at it?" he said hastily and stepped aside to show them. His hand extended with great display as Nina beheld a chest on the table. It was a sublime piece of antiquity that immediately piqued her interest. At the control board stood one of the engineers she had seen before. Seemingly terrified, he stood as far as he could from them, leering at the piece. She frowned. The other staff member had the same countenance and both men appeared to be very wary of the chest they could not look away from.
"Everything all right, gentlemen?" Nina asked them. They both suddenly acted as if nothing was amiss and smiled with a nod, but she knew better. She had seen such expressions before and she took it as a sign.
"How old do you reckon this is?" Sam asked, as he set his camera settings to fully capture the details on the chest. Dr. Gould slowly approached it and bent down to scrutinize the symbolism and the design. It was the size of a cinder block, carved from a few variants of wood, from dogwood to rosewood, pine insets and pewter for decoration.
Nina's eyes grew wide in silence and Purdue fiddled impatiently to wrench an answer from her.
"No way," she said. "I could be mistaken, but I don't think I am. It's from the time of the Roman Empire, I'd say."
Purdue got excited.
"How do we open it?" he asked eagerly, ready to send Liam for the proper tools.
Nina took a while to fully study the lock. It was set inside the wood, made of granite and steel.
"How odd? Look, this lock is made of stone, not steel. The steel is used to fix the granite to it and to keep the corners intact, almost like a bumper guard," she pointed for Sam to get a few close-up shots.
"How do we open it?" Purdue asked again. He only had one goal in mind, to see what was held inside. While waiting for Nina he had picked up the chest and found something decidedly weighty inside.
"Well, clearly this is not a lock you just pick with a nail file and a hair clip," she said, as she stood up and stepped back to observe the full size of it.
"Please just remember that it could contain something harmful. You should not just go and bust into it," Sam remarked. Liam and Darwin both vocalized their wholehearted agreement with that. Nina and Purdue looked at them with question.
"I'm not gonna lie, sir, that thing gives me the jeebers," Liam said seriously. Darwin nodded.
"What do you suppose is in it?" Purdue asked, folding his arms with interest.
"I'm sure I dunno, sir. But I know when I am in the presence of somethin' intelligent," Liam answered. Purdue found his choice of words quite odd, but he understood what the mechanic was trying to say. He could not argue that he had the same foreboding feeling when he fiddled with the thing, but he thought it best not to perpetuate the notion, for fear of procrastination on account of superstition.
"Hmm," was all he uttered in return and pinned his attention back on the chest.
"What symbols are these, Nina? Looks like those they found in the caves outside Jerusalem," Sam noted.
"These here are Runic. Norse. I would have to look it up, but it looks like a spell—a containment spell," Nina declared.
The two men on the other side of the room passed one another a suspicious look riddled with fear.
"What would need magic to be contained?" Sam asked. Nina stood in deep thought, her eyes fixed on the object. Many accounts of cursed boxes raced through her mind, but she dared not reveal such things here and now. She realized that chests inscribed with incantations or symbols usually had valid reasons to be so.
"I'm not sure, Sam. Runic magic was practiced in the second century by Germanic tribes. I wouldn't take it lightly, Mr. Purdue," she reported, but she could see he was not pleased with her discouraging theory. Nina knew Dave all too well. He was not going to accept her advice on leaving the container in its present state, that she knew, but she had to admit that her own curiosity was busy getting the better of her. He looked at her with eyes stiff in their sockets and then he lifted the thing for them to hear that something was thumping inside when he turned it.
"Do you hear that? I want to know what that is," he smiled.
"Yes, Dave, I am well aware of your eagerness to pry your way into it," she said in her most civilized tone of impatience. "Give me a while to figure out what to do with a stone lock and we'll see what's inside."
"You have an hour," he decided, "and after that, I'm opening this lock the old fashioned way."
"Sledgehammer?" Sam asked with a wry smile.
"Damn straight," Purdue said. He tapped his watch at Nina and winked at Sam. Liam and Darwin, though, did not share the amusement.
After setting the chest in one of the vacant rooms sublevel, Sam waited with Purdue. Nina came back a while later after going to her cabin to collect the medieval book the Nazi corpses were so kind as to bestow on them. It had so far been invaluable to them in locating clues and deciphering codes. With a bit of searching she knew there had to be something written in there pertaining to the object now before her. Purdue hovered like a vulture, pacing and suggesting to the point of annoyance.
"For fuck's sake, Dave, can you give me some room here?" Nina snapped after a half an hour of his forceful prying, which amounted to nothing but noise in her ears.
"I am giving you room. I am giving you time to do it your way, aren't I?" he said casually. Sam knew her body language. Now she was pulling back her shoulders constantly, a clear sign of irritation he knew all too well. It was a mannerism she had when she was vexed and under stress, and it was best not to say anything when she began to flex her shoulders. It reminded him of a bird flapping its wings in a defensive gesture when threatened.
"Mr. Purdue, I was wondering about the permanent skeleton staff you have here," Sam said suddenly, distracting Purdue from Nina with a bit of a casual confrontation. He was good at those, as any award-winning journalist would be.
"What about it?" Dave asked.
"I just notice that you never have a full crew working. And oil drilling is a substantial practice, not something you can run with just a few men," Sam remarked.
"What I produce on my oil rig and how much of it turns out is categorically none of your business, Mr. Cleave, as is my crew count," Purdue retorted, with a superior sneer at the blatant accusation of mismanagement on his platform.
Nina was pleased that the two men were engaged in conversation, no matter what the nature, because it kept Purdue off her back and gave her time to page through the more indecipherable pages of the handwritten book. As they bantered behind her she focused sharply on the information
supplied by various scribes entered in several languages. Finally she came to a paragraph written upside down from the others, as if it was added in haste. In Latin it reported on the granite lock of the curse box and what was needed to undo its hold.
"It's a Roman system," she declared and smiled at the two men who stopped abruptly in midsentence. Purdue's face lit up. He never realized that Sam had been deliberately engaging him to help Nina find the solution.
Nina applied what she had learned from the book to unlock the chest. As she was about to lift the cracked lid that was slightly ajar under her hand, Purdue lurched over the table as if he would see whatever was inside first. She lifted the lid and found inside an elongated object wrapped in leather. From it emanated a putrid whiff that took them aback. The three of them stared in fascination, but none of them moved. Again, there was a feeling of foreboding, a sensation of warning as if they were intruding on something much too potent. Nina, especially, having opened it, felt the distinct unpleasantness of a cornered cat burglar about to be discovered. Vulnerable, uninvited and disrespectful she felt.
Purdue animated, reached into the chest to claim its prize. Sam stepped back slightly, wary of the consequences, yet he kept filming.
"This is the chest recovered from the floor of the North Sea recently, discovered by myself, Dave Purdue, with the assistance of Dr. Nina Gould and esteemed investigative journalist Sam Cleave," Purdue announced to the camera, as he held the object in his hands. "We are now about to uncover the contents of the chest."
He unwrapped the leather covering, its texture smooth and flaccid in his hands. Uncovered, they found the item to be a dagger of sorts, missing the narrowing frontal blade. Half of it was enveloped in pale yellow metal and the other part made of steel and silver, bound together in a powerful hilt. Purdue's face froze in astonishment as he looked at Nina. In turn she was speechless and Sam knew that they had stumbled on the very thing that the pursuit of had almost cost them their lives.
"It can't be," she finally managed.
"Why not? How do you know this is not the genuine article?" Purdue started to smile, at first at a loss for words, but now thoroughly elated at his find. Between them they could feel the relic's power radiate through them, but it was not an altogether positive feeling. Something about it challenged their morality and loyalty, something irrepressible that toyed with their sensibilities.
"Well, is it or is it not the Holy Lance?" Sam pressed, intent on getting it all on film.
Purdue's eyes combed the length of the artifact, checking for all the trademarks just to make sure. Of course, Nina would have to study it to confirm its authenticity, but as far as notable features went, this was the genuine article he held in his hands. Purdue felt his heart racing, every beat an explosive throb of welling power. He imagined what he could attain now. Was there any truth in the legend that whoever owned the Spear of Destiny wielded untold, immeasurable power? He could not deny that the overwhelming thrall of the object played with his soul in ways he feared few men could resist.
"Dr. Gould, would you do us the honor of examining the artifact?" Purdue asked, as he gently wrapped it again.
"I would be honored," Nina replied, while inside her she screamed with glee at the find.
Purdue placed the knife back in the ominous chest and Sam stopped filming. As he closed the viewfinder of his camera, the well-behaved and professional Purdue uttered a victorious cry.
In the control room the light dimmed.
From the immediate heavens above Deep Sea One the clouds grew in size, darkening as the wind began to stir up the surface of the ocean.
"It's happening," Darwin whispered to himself. Alarmed, he raised his voice, "Liam! It's happening!"
Liam came in to see the storm birthed right in front of them. It was not as discernible to the other staff on the oil rig, but because they had previously discussed the very phenomenon, the two men observed such things more keenly.
"My God, it's uncanny," Liam marveled while a little ball of fear developed in his core. He did not know why, but the whole business had an unnatural feel to it and being out here on a godforsaken oil drill that could be swallowed up in a moment, was not reassuring at all. The gales turned angry and swerved over the workmen who moved quickly to secure everything before the storm escalated. As soon as they completed their tasks they made for the cover of the buildings.
Nina sat and rested her elbows on the table, perching her chin on her hands. Sam could not read her expression. Her eyes were blank over her pouty mouth and she just sat there while Purdue went on about the possibilities should the item be authentic.
"Thoughts?" Sam asked.
"I'm just listening to the thunder," she said dreamily. "Did you notice?"
"No, actually, until you mentioned it just now," Sam answered, surprised that he did not realize that they were caught in a devastating storm raging around the meager structure in the middle of the tempestuous waters.
He looked out the window and saw the crew cowering in all directions to secure their stations. Below them the grey water rose and plummeted in massive clashes of white foam and sea spray while the wind jerked the loose signage and the tarps under the corrugated roofs. It howled violently around the buildings and accompanied the rumble of the skies, fraught with dangerous charge.
"Wow, it's really battering us out there," Sam noted. Nina nodded. With careful hands she shut the chest and clipped the lock to hold the lid. Sam reviewed the footage of the unveiling while Nina and Purdue had a cup of tea. Rather rapidly the storm subsided. Within mere minutes it had retracted its fury and grew quiet to abandon the onslaught. Astonished, the crew came out on the platform to scrutinize the heavens. It was a strange occurrence, but there had been many unexplained incidents reported over the years, making this just another freak storm.
"Mr. Purdue, I would like to start studying the relic right away," Nina announced, "and I will be ready to head to the mainland by tomorrow."
"The mainland?" Purdue frowned.
"Yes, I have to research and examine the item in the proper environment, of course," she replied.
"I'd rather you didn't, Dr. Gould," he said. "You should conduct your research here. The Spear of Destiny is not something you should examine in plain and public sight. It should be done clandestinely before sharing the results with the outside world, don't you think?"
Nina was dumbstruck.
"What the hell am I supposed to do with it here, Dave?" she snapped in a high-pitched voice that he knew to be her aggression surfacing. With her hands firmly on her hips she continued, "You can't keep something like this cozily hidden on a fucking oil rig, for Christ's sake! What are we going to find out about it when it rots on this reclusive piece of junk? At the university I have everything I need—"
"Including Matlock's undeniable defeat at the sight of the Spear, right?" Sam insinuated as to her motives.
"Shut up, Cleave!" she barked with her finger pointed in a gesture of warning. He knew just how to get on her nerves and he enjoyed employing the skill every now and then.
"Nina," Purdue interrupted, wrapping his hands around her upper arms to hold her steady, "you have no need of the university, my dearest," he smiled.
"What do you mean? Of course I need a decent lab to do my work," she moaned in disbelief of Purdue's ignorance.
"Indeed you do. And I have everything you need right here," he said calmly.
"Where? You mean to tell me you have a lab on this platform somewhere I can't see? Because I have been around this place a bit and I have not seen any signs of a laboratory. So where is it supposed to be hiding, then?" she shot her sarcasm. Purdue let go of her arms.
"Below."
☼
Chapter 29
DCI Patrick Smith had an appointment with one Mrs. Lancashire in Glasgow. He waited outside the gardens of his hotel for her car to collect him. He felt strangely numb about it all, although he had every reason to be unsure of his choices and he realized that he w
as clutching at his coat more than usual as he stood on the curve of the driveway in the late afternoon sun, which did not give much in the way of strength for him.
At a few minutes before five o'clock an inconspicuous vehicle stopped. A man in a suit got out.
"Detective Chief Inspector Patrick Smith?" the man asked plainly.
"Yes," Patrick replied quickly and the man opened the back door for him. Before he rounded the car, Patrick watched him briefly speak into his Bluetooth earpiece before he climbed in behind the steering wheel.
The police officer started at the loud click of the central locking system and acted as if he was used to the protocol of secret meetings with government bodies. Acting calm he peered out at the passing traffic, wondering what he was letting himself in for. But whenever doubt crossed his mind he would think of his good friend, Sam Cleave, and his encouraging words when he last saw him in the pub.
He knew that Sam was supposed to be back home soon from some wild-chase expedition and he wanted to at least have some news when they hit the pool tables again. It had been years since Patrick really took a chance in life, apart from the one skydiving instance where he almost died of fright, but he was due for a change. Besides, the course he wanted to take in his career, he believed, would serve a greater purpose than interrogating drug distributors and arresting pimps with better clothes than he had. He was elite and he had finally come to embrace it.
When they turned into the tree-lined lane in the West End he noticed that his fingers were wet with perspiration. Of course he was nervous. In this line of work, should he be accepted, there were more serious consequences and a lot more to look over his shoulder for. But the money was better, the perks were better and most certainly he could do with a less hands-on approach to the vermin in the gutters. For so many years he envied the suave and rugged men of this unit, thinking of reasons why he did not measure up, until one night after a few drinks he decided that he was every bit as capable as they were and made up his mind.
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