Stones (Data) (28 page)

“
Dozo,
have a seat.”

After a proper amount of hesitation, Matt walks to the table and sits in the chair facing out through the open door.

The professor turns back to his small desk and pulls a game board and a round container out of the bottom drawer. “I’ve been looking forward to working with you.” He walks to the table opposite Matt and places the items between them. “Have you ever played the Japanese game called
Igo
?” He drops into a chair.

“I used to play with my mom. She always beat me.” Matt touches the game board. “This is called the
goban
, right?”

“Very good.” Professor Yamamoto unfolds the
goban
board with its grid of thin black lines and places it on the table. He takes the lid off the container and carefully pours out a mound of small game pieces, half of them black and half of them white. Each one resembles a flattened sphere smaller than his thumbnail. “
Igo
is a good game to play while having a relaxing conversation. It helps your concentration and focus.” He begins to separate the black game pieces from the white ones, piece by piece. “I’ve been wanting to talk with you about your research this summer. I am sure there is something you must be interested in studying.” Professor Yamamoto leans back in his chair.

“Good question.” Matt helps the professor separate the rest of the games pieces into two groups. “I’ve read your work on Japanese and Chinese history. I find the myths and folk legends the most compelling.” Matt braces himself. He already knows how the professor will react.

Professor Yamamoto breathes in sharply between his teeth and cocks his head to the side, looking first at the
goban
board and then directly at Matt. “Matt-
kun
, you saw from the reaction of the students in the classroom and the other professors in the cafeteria that most people have no interest in fables and fiction any more. You should take my advice and stay with real history.” He shakes his head and stares down at his feet. “You have a bright future. It is my wish that you not do anything to kill your career before it gets off to a good start. This is especially true in light of the past that you and your father share.” The professor’s head comes up.

“What do you mean?” Matt’s eyes narrow.

Professor Yamamoto purses his lips. “What I mean is that you will draw less attention to yourself and your father if you stay away from anything too exotic. Researching folk tales and mythology is not in favor at the moment. It will only draw unwanted scrutiny. I’m sure you would rather avoid that.”

An image of the two Yakuza goons hangs in Matt’s mind. He blinks it away. “You’re right, of course.”

“That does not mean you cannot pursue your interests in private.” The professor smiles and lowers his voice. “Take my advice. Avoid publishing on ancient mythology, at least until you have tenure at a university. I will do all I can to help you find a new identity and a bright future. It’s the least I can do to honor the memory of your mother.”

Matt bows his head in genuine gratitude. “
Domo arigato gozaimasu.
Thank you for understanding.”

“Now, let us turn to the game.” The professor exhales, and tension flows out of the room. He pushes a pile of the small game pieces in the direction of Matt. “You will be black and go first. Put five stones on the
goban
board.”

“Isn’t it supposed to be one at a time?” Matt says.

“Yes, but I will give you the advantage. It would not be much fun if the game ends right away.” A mischievous grin tips up the corners of his mouth.

Stretching out his legs under the table, Matt picks up five black pieces. “I read one of your papers on the Mesh before my flight here.
A Comparative Study of Ancient Mythologies and Creation Myths
.” He drops the pieces randomly around the
goban
board.

“You play with confidence and quickly seek to dominate a wide territory.” The professor picks up a single white piece and puts it down near the edge. “You must be careful.”

Matt reaches for a black piece and studies the board. “You concluded that, when read correctly, a common thread runs through the myths of all ancient cultures and that this common thread must be based on fact.” Matt places the stone near the middle of the board.

“I published that paper twenty-five years ago.” Professor Yamamoto picks up a white piece and holds it between his thumb and index finger. “It was the subject of a formal presentation I made at the International Comparative History Institute in Vienna.” His gaze drifts outside the window to a row of cherry trees.

Wave after wave of cicada buzzing rises to a crescendo and then drops away.

“You never published again on that topic. Why? What happened to your research?”

The professor’s blinks his bloodshot eyes. “After the paper was published, my career never recovered. I learned that some questions are beyond the limits of permissible inquiry. If you transgress those limits, you’ll be punished by being ignored.” The professor lays a white piece next to the other one already on the board.

“But, Professor Yamamoto, you
did
continue your research, didn’t you.”

“Yes. In secret.”

“Why?” asks Matt. “If it has a negative impact on your career, why don’t you just stop?” He puts a black piece next to the professor’s white one.

“Because I’m drawn to it the same way you are.” Professor Yamamoto’s eyes widen. “When I read the fantastic stories in ancient writings, I can’t help but wonder if they contain a kernel of truth.”

“Exactly,” Matt says. “I remember reading the Mahabharata and the Ramayana, my favorite Indian epics, in college. Golden chariots flying through the air, shooting out rays of intense light.” He spreads his arms out. “Magnificent starships fueled by quicksilver flying for vast distances, going up, down or sideways through the air.” He puts down another black game piece.

“Yes, but of course all that has been dismissed as pure fantasy. Ancient science fiction.” Professor Yamamoto’s hand bats at an unseen bug in the air.

Matt leans in close to the
goban
board. “Have you studied the Dropa Stones?”

“I’m surprise you’ve even heard about them.” Professor Yamamoto reaches for a white piece to play.

“An article popped up on a public Meshlog last winter, but it was gone within a few minutes. I didn’t have a chance to read it all.”

“The Chinese Meshscrubs automatically remove any mention of the Dropa Stones, like they have for the last twenty years.” Professor Yamamoto pushes away from the table and walks to a bookshelf where he pulls down a thin yellow book, written in English. “Read this if you want to know more.” He drops a white piece onto the board. “Here’s a quick summary. More than a hundred years ago, 716 stone disks, each nine inches in diameter, were dug up from the floor of a cave in the Baian-Kara-Ula mountains along the old border between China and Tibet. The disks were dated to around 10,000 B.C. and were stored at Beijing University for decades. Each stone had a groove with hieroglyphic characters spiraling out from the center. They were all eventually translated, telling the story of visitors from another world.” The professor places another piece on the
goban
board, completely surrounding one of Matt’s black ones. “My first kill.” He does a quick bow in Matt’s direction and removes the black piece from the board. “According to the record, the visitors came from the sky and stayed with the people for a long time.”

Matt thumbs through the book as Professor Yamamoto talks.

“
Sugoi, na.
” Matt whispers to himself. “This is incredible.”

“I think it’s probably a hoax. You have to be careful in this area of research.” Professor Yamamoto draws his gaze away from Matt and looks out the window again, running a finger along the line of his jaw. His head dips in a subtle nod, as if he had just made an important internal decision, and then he draws in a sharp breath, holds it and lets it out. “There
is
one ancient legend that I have pursued for years. We talked about it this morning in the lecture.”

“The Magatama Stone?” Matt looks up.

“Exactly.”

“Can you tell me about it?” Matt’s dark eyes focus on the professor.

“After you make your next move.”

Matt draws a black piece from the pile and drops it on the board.

Professor Yamamoto stands up, walks to the open door and shuts it, pushing the lock in the middle of the doorknob. Then he moves to the open window above his desk and brings it down. “We must be careful. There may be listeners. I have my office scanned for data sniffers on a regular basis, so we are safe with the doors and windows shut.” He sits down in the chair and drops his eyes to the game board. “I assume you already know what is written in the official Japanese mythologies, the
Kojiki
and the
Nihon Shoki
.”

“Yes, I studied them back at the university in Colorado.”

“There are many ancient writings about the Magatama Stone and its Holder.” Professor Yamamoto places a white piece on the
goban
board, entirely enclosing another one of Matt’s black pieces. He reaches out to collect the kill. “Forgive me.”

“You said you had actually seen the Magatama Stone.” Matt looks down at the board as his fingers move along the outside of his pants over the bulge in his pocket. “Can you tell me what it looked like?”

Without a word, Professor Yamamoto walks to the bookcase on the wall behind Matt. The tips of his fingers run along the spines of the old books until his hand stops. He pulls a thick tome off the shelf.

Matt turns and reads the title.
The Complete Works of Shakespeare.
Right next to Aristotle’s
Metaphysics
.

Professor Yamamoto walks back to his desk and puts the book down next to the
goban
board.

“You want me to read Shakespeare?”

The professor laughs. “There is something inside that might interest you. Open it.”

Matt opens the hard front cover. The smell of dust and old paper floats up, and his eyes fall on a faded color photograph that shows a man dressed in the white robes of a Shinto priest. Torn at the edges, it is something one might expect to find in a photo album from the prior century.

As the muffled music of cicadas outside rises and falls in waves, Professor Yamamoto picks up the old photo and hands it to Matt. “It’s never been published. You’re the only person to see it other than me and the Holder.”

“The Holder? What do you mean?” Matt’s eyes drop down to the picture and freeze.

For a moment, the world fades out of existence, and he sits there alone, staring at the Shinto priest’s hand. It holds a claw-shaped rock, light purple. The rest of the photo slips out of focus, and for a time all he can see is the Magatama Stone.

Impossible
.

It’s nearly identical to the rock in Matt’s pocket.

“I
s something wrong?” The professor’s voice breaks through the bubble around Matt.

As the rest of the world slowly comes back into focus, Matt tries to talk, but his mouth is dry and gravelly. Finally, words come out. “Is this the actual Magatama Stone, the one that’s been handed down through the Imperial House line for thousands of years?”

“Yes. I took the photo myself with an old camera. And I handled the Stone.”

Matt stares again at the photo, thunderstruck, fighting back the urge to reach into his pocket and wrap his fingers around the hard object there.

“Why haven’t you published this?” Matt looks from the photo to Professor Yamamoto and hands it back to him with trembling fingers.

“For several reasons. It would stir up too much controversy. Most people wouldn’t believe it anyway.” Professor Yamamoto puts it back in the book. “But most importantly, the Holder has forbidden it.”

“The Holder?” Matt steals another glance at the old photo. “Doesn’t it belong to the Emperor?”

Professor Yamamoto hesitates, and then shakes his head. “Yes. I mean, no.”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said. The Emperor receives the Stone. And he does, in a manner of speaking.” He fingers a white game piece. “Over the centuries, it was deemed wise to take the Magatama Stone out of the Imperial House for safekeeping. The stone received by the Emperor is a copy of the real one, made from fine jade.”

“How did you find it?” Matt stares at Professor Yamamoto.

“You might say that it found me. Your turn, by the way.”

Matt drops a black piece on the
goban
board, too absorbed in the conversation to care where it lands. “It found you?”

“Yes.” Professor Yamamoto leans back in the chair, causing it to creak. “I did research on the Magatama for many years, spending most of my vacation time making the rounds of old Shinto shrines and pouring over ancient records.” He puts another white piece on the board and looks across the table at Matt. “Most of the Shinto priests cannot read the old writings anymore, so I visited the shrines and offered to translate their records.”

Matt drops a black piece in a random spot on the board. “What did you find?”