The Remembering (19 page)

I turned to the exhibit, which was a collection of bones and a few tools. There were also photographs, a map, and a paper documenting the collection. The paper was written in Russian, but I was able to understand most of the context. It said the bones were that of a Neanderthal child, discovered along with five other children’s skeletons, at Mezmaiskaya Cave on the banks of the Sukhoy Kurdzhips River in 1938. The paper also said the skeletons were all found together in an unusual arrangement resembling a circle, as if they had been holding hands at the time of death. Nearby the bones, but farther back in the cave, the black granite sphere had been unearthed. I looked up from the paper in shock. Geaxi was still mesmerized by the skull in her hand.

Just then, I heard voices down the long hallway, and they were coming toward us. I yanked the skull away from Geaxi and set it back with the other bones. Geaxi made a small whimpering sound, but she didn’t move. Without hesitating, I slapped her hard across the chin. She blinked twice, then looked at me. “Young Zezen,” she said. “Where are we?”

“About to be caught,” I said, taking her hand and running across the room to the table next to the refrigerator by the door. The voices were close. I pulled Geaxi down and we ducked under the table just before two men entered the room.

They headed directly for the sphere, and as they passed by, I could only see them from the waist down. One wore brown trousers and plain brown shoes, old and scuffed on the toes and heels. The other wore black trousers and black Italian-style shoes, which looked almost brand-new. They were speaking in Russian. The man in the Italian shoes said, “I tell you, Arkady, I am at wit’s end. I have exhausted everything I know. During the war I learned Chinese in three weeks, and now this damned stone and its code has had me completely baffled for six months. I want you to look at it and tell me what you think.”

Brown shoes said, “If you haven’t broken it, then I haven’t much of a chance.”

“Don’t be modest, Arkady. You were once the best we had.”

“A long time ago, my friend, perhaps too long.”

“Still, I want you to see it before I send it off to Berlin.”

“Berlin?” Brown shoes replied.

“Yes.”

“The Beekeeper?”

“Yes, the Beekeeper. He is the only one. He will not fail to break it. I have done my best.”

“He is a dangerous choice, Valery.”

“I know, Arkady, but he is the only choice I have left.”

When I heard the name Valery, I peeked out from underneath the table. The two men were standing beside the big desk, admiring and examining the sphere. I could see their faces clearly. I studied the taller of the two, the one wearing the expensive black shoes. His chin was narrow and pointed. His cheekbones were high and wide, but his eyes were small and close together on either side of his long, straight nose. His hair was a dark shade of burnt red, and he combed it back from his forehead, which was high and round. Cardinal had said Valery had vulpine features and resembled a fox in looks, attitude, and intelligence. The man standing by the sphere talking about codes and ciphers was, without a doubt, the reclusive, elusive Soviet agent known as Valery.

I glanced at Geaxi. She seemed to be herself again and was also paying keen attention to the two men. With my eyes, I indicated that it was time to leave. I held the Stone in my hand, but it was unnecessary. We sneaked out from under the table without a sound, then out the door and down the hallway until we reached the connecting hall that led to the kitchen and the banquet room. There were no guards anywhere. I could hear Giles arguing loudly with them in the kitchen, still creating a diversion. We walked into the banquet room, where the Zhordanias were quietly changing back into their street clothes. Everyone ignored our late entrance, except for Giorgi. He looked over and gave Geaxi and me a quick wink and a knowing smile. In another ten minutes, we were all back in the old school bus and on our way, including Giles. He had been dragged and carried out by two of the men in dark suits, who were more than glad to be rid of him and
The Great Zhordanias
.

Once we were clear of the dacha, I wanted to ask Geaxi about what had happened to her. I changed my mind, however, and decided to wait until we were alone.

Giles wasted no time in getting Geaxi and me safely out of the country. We made our way south for about fifty miles, crossing the Psou River and entering the Abkhazian city of Gagra. We made a brief stop at a sanatorium. It was one of many the Soviets had founded in the area. Giles said his “contact” worked in the sanatorium. While he was inside, Giorgi told me in his broken English that Giles had been to the sanatorium many times before, but for quite another reason. “He has a cancer of the bone,” Giorgi said. “It eats him like a dark worm.”

We drove on to the Pitsunda cape, a place Geaxi said she had visited in the late fifteenth century while in the company of Genoan and Venetian pirates. After being introduced to a man with an enormous black mustache and a booming, loud voice, we were ushered onto his fishing trawler and shown to a small cabin belowdecks. Giles informed us that the man could be trusted and that we would be leaving for Istanbul at first light.

There was little time for long farewells or proper thanks for everything that Giles had done for us. But he did ask one question. He asked if we had had enough time to determine if the stone sphere was indeed Meq. Geaxi turned to me, waiting for the answer. I glanced at Giles, but spoke to Geaxi. Judging from what I’d been able to “read” on the sphere and what I’d seen and read in the exhibit, I could hardly believe the answer myself. The implications were mind-boggling. “Yes,” I said. “It is Meq.”

Geaxi seemed startled and puzzled simultaneously. She looked away for a second, then looked at Giles and regained her composure. She smiled. “Perhaps we shall meet again soon, old friend.”

Giles smiled back. He ran his hand through his white hair and leaned over, kissing Geaxi softly on the cheek. “Perhaps,” he whispered. Then he turned to leave, ducking under the low door of the cabin and disappearing down the corridor toward the stairs. His footsteps barely made a sound.

In shade there is protection. There is shelter from heat and the glare of light. There is also obscurity, deception, darkness, and danger. In shade one may change, one may pass by imperceptible degrees into something else … someone else. Shade is crowded with ghosts. In shade there are countless dreams, schemes, hopes, triumphs, terrors, and fears that light will never see nor reveal. The truth seeker seeks not light. In truth, Truth is in shade
.

I
t was a hot and windy afternoon on our third day at sea. Geaxi and I stood by the railing on the starboard side of the trawler, in the shade of the wheelhouse. We were watching the nets being pulled in for the last time before making port. Sea spray stung at our eyes, but felt good against our skin. Istanbul was on the horizon. We would be in the harbor and docked by sunset.

I wiped my eyes and asked Geaxi, “Where were you?”

“When?” she replied.

“When you were holding the skull … something happened … you, you went somewhere. Where were you?”

Geaxi turned to face me and turned her back against the sea spray. It jumped and danced around her head and shoulders like a halo of wet crystals and light. I looked in her eyes. She was clear and focused. She spoke softly, in a direct and even tone with little or no inflection. “I was in the past,” she said. “I … 
was
the past, and yet it felt like the future … like I was in the future. I was
inside
both, being both … dreaming both.” She removed her beret and ran her hand over her face and through her hair. She stared down at the beret and turned it over in her hands. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, then smiled slightly, shaking her head back and forth. “You say this skull is Neanderthal, no?”

“Yes—Neanderthal, probably not an adult, and discovered along with five others in an unusual connecting design, in the same cave where they found the sphere.”

“And you are able to read this sphere, Zianno?”

“I think so,” I answered, hesitating. “I need to see the sphere again. I need time with it.”

“But the sphere is Meq … there is no doubt the sphere is Meq?”

“Yes … the sphere is Meq.”

Geaxi slipped her beret back on her head, adjusting the angle unconsciously. She looked over at the men pulling in the heavy, wet, tangled nets, most of them empty. Without a trace of irony, she said, “It seems we have a big new problem, do we not, young Zezen?”

I smiled but didn’t laugh. “Yes, we do, Geaxi … yes, we do.”

Before we disembarked, Geaxi made sure the captain of the trawler received several gold coins, which she handed over to him with privacy and discretion. Where she had been hiding them the whole time was a complete mystery and I didn’t inquire. At first he refused the offer; however, Geaxi insisted he take the coins. The captain had been told he was reuniting an old family that had been displaced and separated, bringing two children back to the family. And he was. Geaxi spoke in Russian and I stayed silent. We shook hands and left the trawler just after dark. We sneaked into Istanbul and hurried through the loud and crowded streets to a small hotel called the Empress Zoe, where there was an ancient, aging family of children waiting for our return.

Geaxi and I entered through the lobby, which was quiet and nearly empty. We climbed the stairs to the second floor and saw a light coming from under the door to Sailor’s room. There was a low murmur of voices inside. I knocked once and Geaxi spoke in Basque to announce our presence.

Moments later Mowsel opened the door, smiling wide and exposing his missing front tooth.
“Ongi etorri,”
he said, looking not at the ceiling or somewhere in space, but directly at me. His black eyes sparkled with intelligence and wit. Trumoi-Meq could see again.

Before I was able to respond, I heard Sailor’s voice. “Well, did you find it … did you see it?”

Geaxi walked past me, giving Mowsel a warm embrace and staring into his eyes. “Good to see you, my friend,” she said.

“That may be, Geaxi,” Mowsel said, “but believe me, it is much better to see you.”

They laughed and I walked inside, closing the door behind me. Ray, Nova, Sheela, and Zeru-Meq were also in the room. Only Opari was missing. I wanted to ask where she was and ask Mowsel about his eyesight, but Sailor wouldn’t let me. He was sitting in a chair by the window.

“Were you able to see the sphere, Zianno? More important, were you able to read it?”

“Yes, and yes,” I answered. “However, it’s a little more complicated than that.” I sat down on the edge of the bed. “Tell me, where is Cardinal? Is he still in Istanbul?”

“No,” Sailor said. “He left shortly after operating on Trumoi-Meq.”

“Operating?”

Mowsel interrupted, “You should have been there, Zianno. It was quite exciting. I remained conscious during the entire procedure. Cardinal employed an experimental technique to extract tiny fragments of shrapnel with microsurgery and a magnet. All this time they had been pressing in on my optic nerves, causing my blindness.” Mowsel shook his head and laughed. “Just think of it, Zianno—a Giza repairing a Meq. The old ones are likely turning in their graves.”

“It is remarkable, Mowsel, truly remarkable,” I said.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Sailor interjected. “Truly remarkable. Now, what did the sphere say, Zianno? Did it mention the Remembering?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t have time to read all of the text, if you can call it that.”

“But you could read it, no?” Zeru-Meq asked.

“Yes, I can read this one. I need to see it again and spend more time with it.” I looked back at Sailor. “Where did Cardinal go?”

“He is in Rome, as far as I know. Why do you seek him?”

“He may be able to help us find someone, someone called ‘the Beekeeper.’ ”

“The Beekeeper?” Mowsel asked.

“Yes. It is probably a code name. The sphere will soon be in his possession, and if we can find him, then I can read more of the sphere.” I paused and looked around the room at each of the others, including Geaxi. “But like I said, there are other … complications.”

Ray said, “I’m gettin’ lost, Z. Why don’t you just start at the beginning and tell us all about it?”

And so I did. I recounted everything, even the close encounter with Nikita Khrushchev. I told them we had seen Valery, the Soviet agent, and I told them about the bones and the Neanderthal skull. Geaxi added a few details and mentioned her “frozen” moments with the skull in her hands. Mowsel was especially interested in that and asked Geaxi several questions about the experience. Zeru-Meq wanted more information concerning the exhibit, and I told him all I could remember, emphasizing the peculiar arrangement of the skeletons, as they were found, and the fact that each of them were Neanderthal children, not adults. Sheela asked about the sphere itself, and I described it as best I could, particularly the quality of the stonecutting and polishing. While I was talking and answering questions, Sailor never said a word and sat staring into the darkness outside the window. He was wearing his star sapphire and he turned the ring round and round his finger as I spoke. But he was listening, and listening carefully.