“A regular potpourri,” Monk said with a yawn.
“But a potpourri whose exact recipe may be forever unknown,” Gray said, frowning at the abused piece of bone. He had preserved three-quarters of the artifact untouched and put the remaining quarter through the battery of tests. “With the m-state powder’s stubborn lack of reactivity, I don’t think any analyzing equipment could tell you the exact ratio of metals. Even testing alters the ratio in the sample.”
“Like the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle,” Kat said, feet up on the opposite bench, her laptop on her thighs. She tapped as she spoke. “Even the act of looking changes the reality of what’s being observed.”
“So if it can’t be completely tested—” Monk’s words were cut off by another jaw-popping yawn.
Gray patted Monk on the shoulder. “We’ll be in Rome in another hour. Why don’t you catch some sleep in the next room?”
“I’m fine,” he said, stifling another yawn.
“That’s an order.”
Monk stood with a long stretch. “Well, if it’s an order…” He rubbed his eyes and headed out the door.
But he paused in the doorway. “You know,” he said bleary-eyed, “maybe they had it all wrong. Maybe history misinterpreted the words the Magi’s bones. Rather than referring to the skeleton of those guys, maybe it meant the bones were made by the Magi. Like it was their property. The Magi’s bones.”
Everyone stared at him.
Under the combined scrutiny, Monk shrugged and half fell out the door. “Hell, what do I know? I can hardly think straight.” The door closed.
“Your teammate might not be so far off base,” Vigor said as silence settled around the cabin.
Rachel stirred. Gray glanced up. Until the recent exchange, Rachel had been leaning against her uncle and had napped for a short while. Gray had watched her breathing from the corner of his eye. In slumber, all hard edges softened in the woman. She seemed much younger.
She stretched one arm in the air. “What do you mean?”
Vigor worked on Monk’s laptop. Like Kat, he was connected to the DSL line built into the new train’s first-class cabins. They were searching for more information. Kat concentrated on the science behind the white gold, while Vigor searched for more history connecting the Magi to this amalgam.
The monsignor’s eyes remained on his screen. “Somebody forged those fake bones. Somebody with a skill barely reproducible today. But who did it? And why hide them in the heart of a Catholic cathedral?”
“Could it be someone connected to the Dragon Court?” Rachel asked. “Their group traces back to the Middle Ages.”
“Or someone within the Church itself?” Kat said.
“No,” Vigor said firmly. “I think there is a third group involved here. A brotherhood that’s existed before either group.”
“How can you be certain?” Gray asked.
“In 1982, some of the Magi burial cloths were tested. They dated to the second century. Well before the Dragon Court was founded. Before even Queen Helena, mother of Constantine, discovered the bones somewhere in the East.”
“And no one tested the bones?”
Vigor glanced to Gray. “The Church forbade it.”
“Why?”
“It takes a special papal dispensation to allow bones to be tested, especially relics. And the relics of the Magi would require extraordinary dispensation.”
Rachel explained, “The Church doesn’t want its most precious treasures to be ruled fake.”
Vigor frowned at Rachel. “The Church places much weight on faith. The world certainly could use more of it.”
She shrugged, closed her eyes, and settled back down.
“So if not the Church or the Court, who forged the bones?” Gray asked.
“I think your friend Monk was correct. I think an ancient fraternity of mages fabricated them. A group that may predate Christianity, possibly going back to Egyptian times.”
“Egyptians?”
Vigor clicked the mouse on his laptop, bringing up a file. “Listen to this. In 1450 B.C., Pharaoh Tuthmosis III united his best master craftsmen into a thirty-nine-member group called the Great White Brother-hood—named from their study of a mysterious white powder. The powder was described as forged from gold, but shaped into pyramidal cakes, called ‘white bread.’ The cakes are depicted at the temple of Karnak as tiny pyramids, sometimes with rays of light radiating out.”
“What did they do with them?” Gray asked.
“They were prepared only for the pharaohs. To be consumed. Supposedly to increase their powers of perception.”
Kat sat straighter, lowering her feet from the opposite bench.
Gray turned to her. “What is it?”
“I’ve been reading some of the properties of high-spin-state metals. Specifically gold and platinum. Exposure through ingestion can stimulate endocrine systems, creating heightened senses of awareness. Remember the articles on superconductors?”
Gray nodded. High-spin atoms acted as perfect superconductors.
“The U.S. Naval Research Facility has confirmed that communication between brain cells cannot be explained by pure chemical transmission across synapses. Brain cells communicate too quickly. They’ve concluded that some form of superconductivity is involved, but the mechanism is still under study.”
Gray frowned. He had, of course, studied superconductivity in his doctoral program. Leading physicists believed the field would lead to the next major breakthroughs in global technologies, with applications across the board. Also, from his dual degree in biology, he was well familiar with the current theories on thought, memory, and the organic brain. But what did any of this have to do with white gold?
Kat leaned toward her laptop. She tapped up another article. “Here. I did a search for platinum-group metals and their uses. And I found an article about calf and pig brains. A metal analysis of mammalian brains shows that four to five percent of the dry weight is rhodium and iridium.” She nodded to the sample on Gray’s table. “Rhodium and iridium in their monatomic state.”
“And you think these m-state elements might be the source of the brain’s superconductivity? Its communication pathway? That the pharaohs’ consumption of these powders juiced it up?”
Kat shrugged. “Hard to say. The study of superconductivity is still in its infancy.”
“Yet the Egyptians knew about it,” Gray scoffed.