Disagreements were never direct. It was so nice, Kate thought. The relaxed environment and collegiality made it so much easier to focus on the work, the theories.
All their civility aside, the group was, however, making no progress on Martin’s notes.
Their work had now focused on one particular page that contained some sort of code:
PIE = Immaru?
535…1257 = Second Toba? New Delivery System?
Adam => Flood/A$ Falls => Toba 2 => KBW
Alpha => Missed Delta? => Delta => Omega
70K YA => 12.5K YA => 535…1257 => 1918…1979
Missing Alpha Leads to Treasure of Atlantis?
Theories had been thrown around, and collectively shot down. Kate had begun to fear they were out of ideas.
Periodically, she heard banging from the engine room below, which was inevitably followed by a bout of cursing, always Shaw and David at each other. It only ended when Kamau spoke up in his deep baritone voice, always the same refrain interrupting the chorus of cursing and clanging: “Gentlemen, please!”
Kate wondered if there would be anything of the engine left when they were done.
Overall it sounded like a bar brawl belowdecks and a book club up above.
After yet another bout of intense banging and a final “Gentlemen, please!” from Kamau, David emerged from below, covered in grease.
“We’re almost there,” he said. “But that’s all the good news. We don’t have enough fuel to make it to the coast.”
Kate nodded. She considered bringing up Shaw’s plan to call his government, but she decided now wasn’t the time. David still seemed wound up. What would they do if these “pirates” showed up? Race down to their room, pass out guns and hope they could repel them? And that whoever killed Martin didn’t take a shot at her or David in the crossfire?
David headed toward the galley, probably to wash himself up.
Janus set his teacup down. “The part that puzzles me most is PIE = Immaru? It seems almost a comedic reference. Perhaps it is meant to throw off any nefarious readers? A sort of camouflage. We should consider omitting it—”
“What did you say?” David was out of the galley.
“I—”
David picked up the page with Martin’s code with his greasy hand.
Kate tried to snatch it from him. “David, you’re smudging it…”
“You know what this means?” David asked Kate.
“No. Do you?”
“Yeah.”
“Which part?”
“All of it. I know what the whole thing means. These aren’t scientific notations. They’re historical references.”
CHAPTER 64
Somewhere off the coast of Ceuta
Mediterranean Sea
David glanced at Kate and the two scientists, then read Martin’s code again.
PIE = Immaru?
535…1257 = Second Toba? New Delivery System?
Adam => Flood/A$ Falls => Toba 2 => KBW
Alpha => Missed Delta? => Delta => Omega
70K YA => 12.5K YA => 535…1257 => 1918…1979
Missing Alpha Leads to Treasure of Atlantis?
Was he right? Yes, he was certain of it. But he wouldn’t start with the first part—it was too out there, too… fantastic, even for him to believe.
“Will you please wash your hands?” Kate pleaded.
David lowered the page. “It’s not the Magna Carta—”
“It is to me. And it could be the key to finding a cure for the plague.” In that moment, David thought she couldn’t be any cuter. She sat on a white leather club chair in the lavish upper-deck saloon, the other two scientists sitting side by side on the adjacent couch. Three white porcelain cups, all half-full of a brown tea, sat on the coffee table before them. There was a faint smell from the galley: biscuits cooking. The whole scene seemed bizarre, like the aftermath of a brunch in a penthouse apartment in Dubai.
David handed her the page and walked back into the galley. He scrubbed his hands and thought again about the code. Yes, he was right. Below he heard banging sporadically in the engine room. Shaw and Kamau were almost finished. Then what? David had to figure out their next move. His decision was crucial and he felt the weight of it. If he guessed wrong, played into the hand of whoever had killed Martin and disabled the boat…
He walked back out. “You guys seriously don’t know what this is? You’re not messing with me?”
“No.”
The looks from the three scientists were skeptical at best, and David had to smile. “You mean you’ve got every scientist in the world on this and you need little ol’ me, a lowly grad-school dropout historian with a half-finished PhD to explain this thing for you?”
“I didn’t know you… Really, a PhD—”
“In European History at Columbia—”
“Why’d you drop out?” Kate asked, some of her skepticism waning.
“For… health reasons. In September of 2001.” Being buried under a building after a terrorist attack and a year of physical rehab wasn’t the typical “health reason,” but David wasn’t sure how else to describe it. That day had changed his life, his career. He had abandoned his academic life instantly, but he had never given up his love of history.
“Oh, right…” Kate said quietly.
“I told you once I liked history—a lot.” He wondered if she would remember the reference, his words in Jakarta.
“Yes, you did,” Kate said, still somber.
David grinned at her and tried to lighten the mood. “You know this is a big moment for historians—worldwide, both amateur and professional. I mean, we usually get consulted after the fact—after the global apocalypse. Can I just take a moment here, on behalf of historians everywhere, to simply bask in the glow of this?”
The serious look on Kate’s face softened, and she broke into a smile. “You bask on your own time, mister. Start talking or you won’t get consulted at all.”
David held his hands up. “Okay, just saying.” He took a second to collect his thoughts. His theory was that the code was a broad outline of human history, specifically of the major historical turning points. But… he would start with what he was most certain about. “First thing’s first: PIE is not pie or any other pastry. It’s a group of people.”
Blank stares greeted him.
“PIE stands for Proto-Indo-Europeans. They’re arguably one of the most important ancient groups in world history.”