The Legacy of Pangea
by R. S. Nailor

"They're ready for you, Mr. Havens," the young lady said. She sat smilingly at her desk, guardian of the great doors that protected those on the other side. Those, the people that were considering me to retrieve an archeological artifact for them.

I crossed the large room, listening to my feet pad on the heavy carpeting and Persian rugs.

Now I stood before those sacred, highly polished, wooden doors of the hallowed university's board of directors, inhaled deeply, held it and then started to slowly exhale. I was definitely stalling.

"You can go in, Mr. Havens," the secretary repeated. "The board is waiting for you."

I pushed the double doors open and entered.

Ahead of me was a long wooden conference table with five men facing me. A quick reconnaissance of the room as I strode forward revealed two more people, a man and woman, sitting behind me, near the doors. Tapestries and artwork adorned the walls. The lighted chandelier above seemed useless against the strong sunlight streaming through the tall windows.

"Ah, Mr. Havens," said the gentleman seated in the middle of the five. He pushed on the table to stand up. Slender, short, thinning hair and I guessed near mid-seventies in age. It was his dark, deep set eyes that held my attention as he leaned over the table and offered his hand to shake. "I'm Mr. Vanderguud."

I shook his hand, he had a firm handshake which belied his frail appearance.

"Let me introduce the others starting with Mr. Hall, Dean of Archeology, on my right. Next to him is Mr. Baxter."

My eyes kept going to the younger gentleman, Mr. Hall; he seemed familiar, yet I couldn't place him and the name hadn't tripped any memory triggers. My mind wandered only hearing some of the names and realizing that I now had no idea who was who other than Hall and Vanderguud. I could tell I was going to make a less than perfect impression on this distinguished group.

"Do you have any idea why we've requested your services?" Mr Vanderguud asked and sat down.

"Uh, no," I replied.

There was a heavy sigh from Mr. Hall.

"We need you to find," Mr. Vanderguud hesitated. His left index finger nervously tapped his lower lip. "Ah, hmm, yes. A certain relic."

"That's what I do," I replied. I hated games and it seemed we had one in progress. I'm a for hire relic hunter; you pay me and I'll go get what you want, no matter where. Why the delay?

"Oh, enough," Mr. Hall said. "Here."

He threw a large object that twirled in the air on its trajectory at me. I grabbed, fumbled it around in my arms before it dropped onto my boot and rolled a few inches beyond. I bent down to pick it up. At least it hadn't broken and I sighed quietly in relief.

"My god, Peter," Mr. Hall said. He glared at Mr. Vanderguud. "Surely you're not going to allow this buffoon to search for something as valuable as this."

"Trenton," Mr. Vanderguud shouted and raised his hand to silence the man.

My mind raced. Suddenly I recognized the name.

"Fine, " Mr. Hall snarled at Vanderguud. "Okay, Barky, you've got the stone. What is it?"

His voice literally sneered the words at me, but I recognized that voice.

"Two ton?" I said and stared at the man. "Two ton Trenton?" Could this be the man I went to university with during my freshman year?

"I prefer to be called Mr. Trenton Hall," he replied. "Thank you."

"As you want, Trent," I said. "Just remember that my name is Barclay Havens. I see you've lost a few pounds since we last met." I would have guessed almost two hundred pounds.

"So, Mr. Havens," Trenton said. "Exactly what do you think you've got in your possession? Please demonstrate your skills. Enlighten us."

I moved the large stone around and noticed the large indent. The rock was obviously a form of sandstone with what seemed some small chunks of lava, but the indentation was the focal point: smooth, partial circular shape with a definite flat end. It reminded me of what clay would look like if you shoved a thermos partially into it. Definitely an enigma.

"We're waiting," Trenton said.

"My first inclination is sandstone regarding the rock itself. Now about this indentation; obviously manmade and I wouldn't hesitate to say that it is probably a metallic cylinder. Of course, that, I hazzard as a guess, is something you already know. Right?"

I watched Trenton and suppressed my smile when his smirk faded.

"Gentlemen," Mr. Vanderguud said. "Before we start another bout, Mr. Havens, would you be so kind as to hand me the rock?"

I stepped to the conference table and gently placed the stone in front of Mr. Vanderguud.

"Now, Trenton," the old gentleman said. "Please hand Mr. Havens the cylinder."

I watched Trenton roll his eyes and grimace; he was totally pissed.

He reached into his lap then held up a bright metallic cylinder to see.

I moved to Trenton, leaned over and retrieved the object from his hand.

"You're in over your head, Barky," Trenton whispered and forced the grin that I despised from our school days.

"Maybe yes, maybe no," I replied noting that he still wore the same cheap aftershave from years passed.

"Now, Mr. Havens," Vanderguud said. "That particular object came from that stone."

I studied the relic. It had to be a relic even if it didn't make sense. The stone was old, possibly millions of years, yet this metallic cylinder was of the finest craftsmanship: finely honed, mirror polished and nearly perfect.

"Well?" Trenton quipped.

I held it to my ear and gently shook the tube. A soft rustle could be heard; something was inside. Yet there didn't appear to be any visible means of opening the object. Using a trick I'd learned in the monastery under Rhampa Hamma, I softly slid my fingers over the surface hoping that any possible seam would be felt.

"What the hell are you doing?" Trenton asked. His hand reached out to wrest the cylinder from me. I pulled back, clutching the prize to me.

"Mr. Havens," Vanderguud said. "Allow me."

His smile was hypnotic and I handed him the coveted possession.

"Your verdict?" Vanderguud said.

I eyed the group of men opposite me; this was the challenge, the test of make or break. I reached deep inside and used my well of resources as I'd been taught and quickly gleaned and processed the collected data.

"As we all can tell," I started. "It definitely came from that particular piece of stone which of course makes the situation even more problematic. How can something so new be part of a something as old as Earth itself? Although I didn't find a seam, I am guessing that there is something soft, perhaps a manuscript or parchment inside. Exactly what type of material is the cylinder?"

"Very good questions and answers, Mr. Havens," Vanderguud said.

"I had the item x-rayed," the gentlemen to Vanderguud's left said. "Allister is the name, Mr. Havens."

I hadn't thought my expression was that of being lost or confused but it was kind of Allister to offer his name since I hadn't remembered it.

"What did the x-ray reveal?" I said. I looked about me, if they weren't going to offer me a chair, I was going to find one myself.

"Trenton," Vanderguud said. "Get Mr. Havens a chair. Wherever are our manners?"

I watched Trenton recoil at the thought of doing manual labor.

"Here," a voice from behind me. The young man was coming with a folding chair for me. "Will this be adequate?"

"I don't need luxury," I replied. "Just someplace to park my butt." I quickly turned my attention back to Allister.

"I'm sorry," I said. "You were saying?"

"We attempted x-rays," Allister said. "It defied our exams and tests."

"Tests?" I questioned.

"Yes, Barky," Trenton said. "Tests. Do you think we would just look at it and wonder?"

"Perhaps you," I replied and noted Vanderguud stifling a smile.

Trenton shook off the snide remark, raised his hand, hesitated, then followed through by running his hand across the side of his head. I could see him simmering.

"What tests did this item defy?" I asked.

"The x-ray revealed nothing, but a blank tube," Allister said. "A drop of acid was applied, it rolled off without damaging it. We used varying strengths of fire culminating in sending it through a crematorium which again revealed nothing since the item wasn't damaged in any manner. There were other tests: water, freezing and the rest of the gamut."

"Did anyone attempt the obvious?" I asked. I leaned forward. Their blank expressions told me that they had no idea what I meant.

"Hammer?" I said. "Brute force?"

A sigh of disgust was Trenton's response. Vanderguud smiled openly.

"Yes," the man sitting at the opposite end from Trenton said. He sheepishly smiled at me. "I gently tapped the dang thing with a hammer and then progressively gained force."

The man sat there innocently watching me.

"And?" I said.

"It was very frustrating," he said. "And exhilarating. No matter how hard I hit the cylinder, there wasn't a mark on it. I even put it into a vise which broke under the stress."

"Basically, Mr. Havens," Vanderguud said. "This item is indestructible."

"Interesting," I said. "May I see it again?"

This time I was scrutinizing over its surface searching for any indication of abuse. There was nothing but my frowning expression reflected back. I shook the container again, closed my eyes and let the moment embrace me.

"Definitely not heavy," Allister said. "My assumption aligns with yours, Mr. Havens. It is probably some type of soft material, perhaps paper."

"It could be a feather for all we know," Trenton quipped.

"No," I said. "It's definitely not a feather. If it were, the calamus, the shaft if you will, would make a small tapping sound as it lifted and fell. Whatever this is, it is soft and I am making a very general guess, possibly pliant."

"Peter!" Trenton said. "Are you going to accept this type of mystic crap?"

"Mysticism, Trenton?" Vanderguud replied. "Perhaps I'm mesmerized by Mr. Haven's knowledge, but I am definitely not mystified by Mr. Havens' manners."

I quietly nodded my head to acknowledge Vanderguud's compliment.

"Gentlemen," Vanderguud said and clapped his hands. "Are we in agreement?"

"I protest," Trenton said. He said there with his arms defiantly folded across his chest. "I really believe there are better choices than this bungling charlatan before us."

"I agree that he wasn't our first choice," Mr. Vanderguud said. "Still, he is available and seems to have a solid knowledge base. Do you agree or not?"

I kept my face as emotionless as possible. Trenton was getting called on the carpet. He either had to put up or shut up.

"Barclay's talents seem to work even though they are rather unusual," Trenton said. "If the board is adamant about hiring him and if he is willing to take the assignment, then I have one request."

"A request?" Vanderguud echoed.

"I want to join the expedition to keep a watch on our investment."

I wasn't sure about Trenton going with me and I silently watched Vanderguud scan his associates for assurances.

"We wouldn't have it any other way," Vanderguud said. "Am I correct, gentlemen?"

I noticed Trenton's facial expression change. I truly don't believe he thought they would allow him to go with me. I quickly noted the expressions of the remaining board members and I realized that Trenton had walked into their trap. They had called his bluff and were exhilarated by thought of him not being around. Of course, I wasn't too thrilled about the prospect of him joining me.

I leaned on the table and spun the artifact on its axis. Spin the bottle, I thought, and where it lands, nobody knows.

"How old do you think this thing is?" I asked.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Havens," the gentlemen said. He was the one on the opposite end from Trenton. "Exactly how old do you think it is?"

"You said that the stone was thousands of years old," I muttered. "If the cylinder actually was a part of the rock at its inception, then that would mean that it is also at least that age."

"As you are aware, Mr. Havens," the gentleman said. "Using carbon dating is only accurate to approximately sixty thousand years ago."

"Your point being, Mr..." My mind was blank as to this gentleman's name.

"Mr. James Farwell," he replied and snickered. "I was watching your consternation when you were introduced to Trenton. I could tell you were trying to recall where you knew him from and our names were literally passing above you, unheard."

"My apologies," I said. "You're very astute and correct."

"You probably don't remember me, either, but we were in a class together during your junior year," Farwell said. "Seems like old home week, Mr. Havens?"

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," I replied.

"It's really immaterial," Farwell said. "Back to that which is important, the artifact. We attempted carbon dating without success and had to use Uranium-235 and was able to get a reading."

I waited in the almost absolute silence of the room. Why the delay?

"And?" I finally said.

"Mr. Havens," Farwell said and slid an open hand across his temple. "The test said that it was over 500 million years old."

"You mean 500 thousand," I replied.

"No," Farwell said. "Million. I said 500 million,"

I watched the man; he was nervously shaking his head as if that were to convince me. His voice had trembled nervously.

"You obviously re-tested," I finally said.

"Yes, four more times."

"And your results were?" I offered.

Mr. Farwell appeared that he was going to have a nervous breakdown. His hand shook and his mouth moved but no sounds came out. Finally, he cracked and started giggling.

"Mr. Farwell," Vanderguud shouted. "Control yourself; you are a scientific scholar."

"Yes," Farwell replied. He took a deep breath, wiped a tear from his eye, release the breath and jerked his head to remove a possible kink.

"All of the tests revealed the cylinder to be over 500 million years old," he said. "This thing is older than most of our continents."

I sat there thinking; 500 million years. That would be in direct correlation to the sandstone.

"Did you happen to check the age of the sandstone?" I asked.

"Yes, Barclay," Trenton said. "It is approximately 375 million years old."

"Therein lies one of the quandaries," Vanderguud added.

"Now what do you think," Trenton said. There was a renewed smugness about him that I just wanted to up to him and slap off his face.

I was about to reply to Trenton's snide remark when I Vanderguud's words sunk in: quandaries.

"Exactly how many quandaries do you have?" I asked.

"This particular item has in itself many of them," Vanderguud replied. "Age, material, location, contents."

"We've addressed the contents earlier," I said. "Age is what we're discussing now and I agree that something this apparently new should be stuck in something as old as that sandstone chunk."

"Something that old stuck in something as young as that sandstone chunk," Trenton repeated. "You seemed to have forgotten that it is older."

"No," I replied. Trying to ignore him was going to be difficult, but having him on the expedition was going to be real hell. "You said material and location were also problems?"

"Material," Allister started. "We were able to discern some of the metals but there are some very unique items that we've not been able to decipher even with spectrographing."

"Interesting," I said.

"That was deep," Trenton hissed.

"Trenton," Vanderguud said. He'd stood and was facing the younger man; his hands were curled and he leaned on the knuckles. "One more outburst of that caliber and I'll physically have you removed from the room. Your petty sophomoric routines will not be tolerated any longer, am I understood?"

Trenton eased back into his chair, folded his arms over his chest, grimaced to display utter disregard. It made me feel good, I was seeing how to get the best of him.

"You mentioned location," I said. "Exactly what do you mean by that?"

"That's another of the enigmas of this item," Baxter said. He had a small smile on his face and I could tell he was probably thrilled by Vanderguud's call at Trenton. "The item was purchased at a village market in Brazil but the sandstone is not indigenous to Brazil's eastern side but western extreme. Then, of course, there is the lava."

"I noticed it," I said.

"We did a bit of research," Baxter said.

"Hmrph!" mumbled Trenton to which Vanderguud shot him a glare.

"Alright, an extreme amount of research to locate a match on the lava," Baxter spat. "The only place this lava could have come from was the island of Principe, in the Atlantic Ocean, off the western coast of Africa."

I looked at the five men, then at the artifact between Vanderguud and me.

"I'll consider the expedition," I finally said. "Although I would like a bit of time to examine the item at my apartment." I looked at the group. "If that would be acceptable." I quickly added.

There was a quick mumbling and whispering which I noticed Trenton had been left out of.

"Fine, Mr. Havens," Vanderguud said. "The object belongs to Reverend Thompson and we will notify him that you have it in your possession. I am sure that Jacob will convey the message."

There was a small pause of silence.

"Shall we re-convene tomorrow, say about 9:30?" Vanderguud asked.

Everyone nodded their heads in agreement except Trenton who remained aloof.

"Thank you, Mr. Havens, for your time," Vanderguud said. He stood up and shook my hand again. "Let me see you to the door."

I reached down and grabbed the cylinder.

"Keep that protected at all times, Barky," Trenton said, then threw a cloth to wrap around it. "The Reverend Thompson calls it "The Vial of God." He cocked an eye at me. "That's right, Barky. Damn important and too important for you as far as I'm concerned."