I came all this way … for that?
“It’s creepy.” Beverly made a face. “No wonder someone boxed it up.”
I didn’t disagree with her. But although it lacked aesthetic beauty, it was still an artifact. And I was determined to save it. Hell, if possible, I’d save the artifacts from the strange museum as well.
Twisting my neck, I studied the transportable hydraulic lift. It appeared easy to operate. We just needed to roll it outside the lab and into one of the connecting tubes. Then we could head for Pagan Bay.
I recalled the Pagan Bay hatch. It was large enough to fit the reliquary as well as its lid. The statue would be an even easier fit. We just needed a way to lift the artifacts to the surface. After storing them on a boat, we could find a way to disrupt Simona’s model and thus, its drones. Then we’d head for Saipan.
But what about Simona?
Would anyone believe us once we reached Saipan? Would anyone even care? And what if something happened to us on the way? What if we never reached our destination?
I walked to a large pair of doors built into the far right end of the partition. They slid open with a swish and I entered a room with Beverly and Graham in tow. Blue cleanroom suits, complete with hoods and face protectors, hung from hooks. Boxes of cotton gloves, rubber gloves, plastic booties, rubber booties, and masking tape sat on a small shelving unit.
I closed the doors. Ignoring the protective gear, I opened a wide door to my left and the three of us stepped into an air shower.
Graham closed the door. Immediately, air shot out from a dozen nozzles, causing our clothes to flap wildly. Then a buzzer rang. The door in front of us cracked open.
I strode into the cleanroom, skirted around the tables, and headed straight for the reliquary. It was as large as I remembered. Staring into it, I saw streaks of black where the statue had scraped the stone.
“What’s wrong?” Beverly asked.
I glanced at her.
“I thought you’d be a little more excited.” She waved at the reliquary. “We went through a lot to find this thing.”
“I know.” I hesitated. “What do you know about my dad?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Just what you’ve told me. He was some kind of developer, right?”
“That’s right. But not an ordinary one. In the months before he died, he bought and tore down over a dozen historic structures in Manhattan. He destroyed decades, even centuries of history in the process.”
She gave me a confused look.
Graham exhaled. “You know?”
“I found out a few weeks ago.” I glanced at him. “How come you never told me?”
“Why would I?”
“Because it’s a big deal.”
“Your dad was a good man.”
“A good man doesn’t destroy history just for the hell of it.”
“He had his reasons.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“I don’t know.” His response was quick. Maybe too quick, although I didn’t really care. “But I knew him. And he didn’t have a bad bone in his body.”
“Wait.” Beverly’s confusion melted away. “Is that why you’ve been so crazy about the reliquary? Are you trying to make up for what your dad did?”
“Maybe. Hell, I don’t know.” I exhaled. “Look, history matters to me. Always has, always will. I’ve dedicated my life to finding it, saving it. But when I found out what dad had done, something changed. I can’t explain it. I … I guess I just had to do more.”
Her face twisted in thought.
Eager to change the subject, I glanced at the reliquary. “We can worry about this later. For now, let’s see if we can figure out why Simona wanted this thing.”
Beverly picked up a clipboard. “This looks like historical information about the reliquary,” she said. “According to local legend, it contained the remains of a dragon that plagued Jerusalem during the fourteen century. It says here it caused much death and destruction, like the one slain by Saint George.”
Fourteenth century, huh?
Obviously, it wasn’t a real dragon. Still, I was pleased to hear the artifact came with a bit of history.
Beverly continued to read. “You know, I don’t think Simona was after the dragon statue. She was after something else.”
“What’s that?” Graham asked.
“Air.” She read a few notes. “Apparently, Lila used to work for Simona. Simona had tasked her, along with several other archaeologists, with finding samples of extremely ancient air from the fourteenth century. So, they researched old documents to look for evidence of boxes, reliquaries, and other sealable items.”
I recalled the skeletons we’d seen in the nook. “Like coffins?”
She nodded. “I’m not sure why Lila turned on Simona. But it looks like the reliquary was exactly what Simona wanted. After bringing it here, she submitted it to extensive testing via ultrasound and other techniques. There were no leaks, no soft spots.”
Jolts of electricity raced through me. The oldest sample of atmospheric air ever taken only dated back a few decades. That made the reliquary’s ancient air truly extraordinary. If Simona’s team had extracted it correctly, it could be used as a benchmark to compare with modern air. It could provide fresh insight into how the rise of industrialization had impacted air quality and the ozone layer.
My heart burned deep inside my chest. The reliquary had been an ancient time capsule, a glimpse into the air quality of the long-forgotten past. It could shed valuable light on the fourteenth century. Everything about it seemed positive.
So, why had Lila been scared of Simona taking it?
Graham looked up from a machine. “Didn’t Carrie say Simona’s compound was called CN-46?”
I nodded.
“According to this, her scientists have been developing something called Miasma.”
I recalled the basement and production facilities. The twin reservoirs rising high into the air. The swirling substance.
“So, they changed their aerosols,” Beverly said slowly. “But why?”
“CN-46 was supposed to block sunlight,” I said, deep in thought. “But what if Simona has something else in mind? What if she has another reason for wanting to put aerosols into the atmosphere?”
Graham arched an eyebrow.
A chill ran through me. At last, I understood the truth. I didn’t know how it worked. But I knew what Simona was trying to do.
“It’s the air.” I glanced at the reliquary. “Something was inside that air sample. Something that’s been preserved since the fourteenth century. Something that Simona has replicated and is now feeding to her drones.”
“What?” Beverly asked.
I walked to one of the tables. Picking up a notebook labeled Project Miasma, I began to leaf through it. My brain raced as I scanned the pages. “We have to stop her. We have to—”
The air rushed, so softly I barely heard it. Spinning to a window, I saw the three guards, now outfitted with body armor, rush into the cavern. They quickly surrounded the laboratory. Then a stylish, middle-aged woman strode into view. I’d never seen her before. Yet, I knew her name.
Simona Wolcott.
Beverly and Graham raised their guns.
The guards raised their guns as well.
Shots rang out on both sides.
I ducked my head. Graham and Beverly followed suit.
I waited a few seconds before standing up again. Looking outside, I saw the guards. They gave us confused looks.
I glanced at the oval windows. They were still intact.
Bulletproof glass.
“We have to destroy this place,” I whispered. “This lab, the production facility, the reservoirs … everything.”