Chapter 16: Ancient History

"The symbol inscriptions are finer than any that I've seen before," Cody began, giving his initial impressions of the metal plates. "The symbols are small, and spaced very close together. I don't understand how they did work this fine. It looks more like laser etching than normal scribing." Cody paused for a moment to inspect the plates carefully before continuing with, "The physical condition of the plates is amazing. Despite all the rough handling, since we retrieved the plates from the tomb, there are no scratches on the metal, other than the inscriptions."

Cody extracted a tool, used for scraping mineral deposits from stone, from his satchel, and tried to scratch the plate. He carefully examined where he had tried to make a scratch, shook his head, and tried again. His second effort was very determined, but he still couldn't mark the metal.

"Efforts to scratch the metal do not produce results," Cody said, under his breath. "I really, really don't think these symbols were scribed."

Cody shook his head in consternation before continuing his initial observations in a normal voice with, "The plates themselves are extremely light weight. I would estimate that each plate weighs less than five grams. Each plate is about ten inches by eighteen inches and is very thin. I would guess, each is less than a thirty-second of an inch thick. Further examination with the proper scales, and micrometers, needs to be made at the proper time." He paused again before saying, "The plates do not appear flexible." Cody tried to flex one of the metal tablets, putting steadily increasing pressure on the plate. Finally he said, "Correction to my last statement. My best effort does not produce a flex in the material, at all."

"If Brian had a vest of those plates, he would still be alive," Shawn commented from over Cody's shoulder.

Shawn had noticed what Cody and Carl were doing, and moved to the seat behind them to watch their progress.

Cody glanced over his shoulder at Shawn and sternly, but quietly, said, "You know better than to try to play the 'woulda, coulda, shoulda' game after you lose someone. All it does is force you to dwell on something that you can't change. A structured 'after action debriefing' will identify what could have been done to prevent the tragedy so we don't make the same mistakes again. Anything else is counterproductive. Are we clear?" Cody asked, demanding a response. Shawn nodded, and Cody continued in a normal tone, "This stuff would make good body armor. I don't know what the translation will say, but I'll bet that whatever this metal is, it will cause more than a few raised eyebrows. Okay," he continued, shuffling the plates. "I will assume the first plate is the one with the Seeker's Ankh at the top. Let's figure out what these have to say."

The next two hours were spent translating a section, trying to define the various possible meanings, noting them, and moving to the next section of symbols. Often, the same method was used that is used when determining words in the English language. Specific meanings were guessed at by the context of the symbols around it. Cody was lucky, in a way. The entire text was written in Sumerian symbols. Cody had always been particularly proficient with Sumerian symbols, but something had dramatically improved his proficiency. His improvement was noticeable, but the translation was still not easy.

Cody immediately noticed another oddity, beyond the material of the plates and the fine detail of the inscriptions. The formatting of the message that the symbols represented was very unusual. Nearly every ancient translation Cody had seen, except for shipping lists and similar lists, had been in some type of prose. Studies had concluded that ancient man used oral history to pass knowledge from the older generation to younger generations. Oral history, couched in prose, made the histories easier to memorize, and easier to ensure that the stories didn't change radically over time. The studies claimed that when man evolved to recording those oral histories on tablets, they kept the prose format of the words. The symbols on the metal plates were not in a prose format, and the translation was chilling.

Cody sat back to read the translation, after he was finished, and the results were compiled. He had a moment of disorientation, or disbelief, as he read the words. Despite all he had been through, and seen, and experienced, the translation was still hard to comprehend, much less believe.

Cody sat back, stunned at the translation.

"Damn," Shawn softly swore from over Cody's shoulder.

Cody looked around, and saw everyone, even the guards, crowded around him. The people that couldn't get in position to read the translation were getting whispered interpretations of the translation. Even the Co-pilot was in the group, to ensure the aircrew were fully aware of whatever was happening, or any danger that faced them.

"That, son, will blow the lid off the archeological world," Cynthia said softly.

"Can you say understatement?" Briana asked dryly. "This answers so many questions, but will our poor documentation be enough to convince anyone that it's real?"

"It does answer a lot of archeological questions, but it won't matter unless we're successful in Egypt," Cody answered, trying to bring a little reality back to their circumstances, and put the translation into the context of their current situation. "They may doubt the translation, but they can't doubt the uniqueness of the metal. I'm really not worried about who believes what. As it stands right now, we may not survive our failure. Hell! I'm as worried about surviving our success, as I am about surviving our failure."

"What capabilities is it talking about?" Maria wondered aloud.

"Probably mental abilities, like Professor Frost uses sometime," Carl replied with a shrug.

"But, he hasn't had any antidote," Amy pointed out. "Why is he able to use them without an antidote?"

"Think about it, girl," Briana said, smiling at her friend to take the bite out of the sarcasm. "You're in college, and supposed to be able to think. What do you know about the human anatomy? This ... this shroud the translation talks about. It must have been some type of medical adjustment that could be passed down through the generations, probably through our DNA. What do you know about medicines' effects on the human anatomy?"

"That ... that they heal people?" Amy asked, confused by the question.

"They don't heal everyone equally, though, do they?" Briana asked softly.

"Two people with a headache can take the same dosage of aspirin. The headache will go away for one, but not the other," Shawn said thoughtfully, nodding.

"So, what does that have to do with the antidote?" Amy asked angrily.

"It has nothing to do with the antidote," Shawn said, as comprehension dawned. "It has everything to do with the shroud. The shroud the plates talk about was something medical, some kind of medical solution, like a disease, or a vaccination," Shawn continued, searching for the right words to explain what he was thinking. "Just like any other medical application, it should have a differing effect on different people."

"The shroud isn't restricting Professor Frost's innate ability like it does everyone else's," Amy said as the concept dawned on her.

"I can almost see the light bulb flashing on over your head," Carl said with a grin. "Don't feel bad for not getting it right away, Chica. I didn't either."

"Don't call me Chica," Amy said absently, as she thought about the shroud concept.

"That would explain all the strange capabilities that people have exhibited throughout history," Briana mused. "And it would explain people like Einstein and Ramanujan. They didn't think like normal people because the shroud didn't restrict them the same way it did normal people."

"It would also explain how people like Tibetan monks can learn to do impossible things through training," Shawn mused thoughtfully. "They can overcome the restraints of the shroud through training. That means that everyone can, if they are trained right."

"Well, according to that translation, maybe Einstein and that other guy, whose name I can't pronounce, were normal. Maybe the rest of us are handicapped, with something like an alien bag over our heads," Jamil observed sourly, not happy with the idea.

"That's true," Amy agreed. "The shroud could explain something else too. Nature is inexorable. Mother nature will have her way, despite anything man or alien does. Man existed thousands of years with animal and sail power. Man went from the horse and buggy in 1900 to landing a man on the moon in 1968. We went from sail power in 1900 to nuclear powered battle ships in just a little more time. Maybe mankind is ridding itself of the shroud naturally. I mean, how do you explain advances like that?"

"Lack of interference from Viper could have something to do with it," Manuel volunteered.

Maria shook her head and said, "Amy's right. Interference could slow progress, but lack of it can't explain the explosion of advancements."

Cody began placing his journal, and the plates, back in his satchel as the discussion continued around him. His hand paused on the staff.

"When are you going to take that cover off, Professor," Carl asked. "I'd like to see what the top of that thing looks like."

"Not yet," Cody said, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the aircraft engines, and the conversation. "It isn't the right time yet. If I don't wait until the right time, we'll lose an advantage. I don't know what the advantage is, but I'll know when it is time."

"Cody," Cynthia said hesitantly, unsure if this was the right time to bring up the subject, but it felt right to her. "This morning, when you woke up outside Beirut, you were acting strange. You said that you had a dream, and that you would tell me about it when we got in the air. Do you think it was important? Do you think it is something we should know about?"