Trojan Odyssey by Clive Cussler Read Free Book Online Page A

onto the galley counter where Summer began stowing the various supplies in a little cupboard and refrigerator.
    â€œI brought you a present,” Barnum announced, holding up a bottle of Jamaican wine. “Not only that, the ship’s cook made you lobster thermidor with creamed spinach for dinner.”
    â€œThat explains your presence,” Pitt said, slapping the captain on the back.
    â€œSpirits on a NUMA project,” Summer murmured mockingly. “What would our esteemed leader, Admiral Sandecker, have to say about breaking his golden rule of no booze during working hours?”
    â€œYour father was a bad influence on me,” said Barnum. “He never came aboard ship without a case of vintage wine while his buddy Al Giordino always showed up with a humidor filled with the admiral’s private stock of cigars.”
    â€œIt seems everybody but the admiral knows that Al secretly buys the cigars from the same source,” said Dirk, smiling.
    â€œWhat’s for a side dish?” asked Barnum.
    â€œFresh fish chowder and crab salad.”
    â€œWho’s doing the honors?”
    â€œMe,” muttered Dirk. “The only seafood Summer can prepare is a tuna sandwich.”
    â€œThat’s not so,” she pouted. “I’m a good cook.”
    Dirk gazed at her cynically. “Then why does your coffee taste like battery acid?”
    Panfried in butter, the lobster and creamed spinach were washed down with the bottle of Jamaican wine, accompanied by tales of Barnum’s seafaring adventures. Summer made a nasty face at her brother as she presented them with a lemon meringue pie she had baked in the microwave. Dirk was the first to admit she had performed a gourmet wonder, since baking and microwave ovens were not suited to one another.
    Barnum stood to take his leave, when Summer touched his arm. “I have an enigma for you.”
    Barnum’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of enigma?”
    She handed him the object she’d found in the cavern.
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œI think it’s some kind of pot or urn. We won’t know until we clean off the encrustation. I was hoping you’d take it back to the ship and have someone in the lab give it a good scrubbing.”
    â€œI’m sure someone will volunteer for the job.” He hoisted it in both hands as if weighing it. “Feels too heavy for terra-cotta.”
    Dirk pointed to the base of the object. “There’s an open space free of growth where you can see that it’s formed out of metal.”
    â€œStrange, there doesn’t appear to be any rust.”
    â€œDon’t hold me to it, but my guess is it’s bronze.”
    â€œThe configuration is too graceful for native manufacture,” added Summer. “Though it’s badly encrusted, it appears to have figures molded around the middle.”
    Barnum peered at the urn. “You have more imagination than I do. Maybe an archaeologist can solve the riddle after we return to port, if they don’t go into hysterics because you removed it from the site.”
    â€œYou won’t have to wait that long,” said Dirk. “Why not transmit photos of it to Hiram Yaeger in NUMA’s computer headquarters in Washington? He should be able to come up with a date and where it was produced. Chances are it fell off a passing ship or came from a shipwreck.”
    â€œThe Vandalia lies nearby,” offered Summer.
    â€œThere’s your probable source,” said Barnum.
    â€œBut how did it get inside a cavern a hundred yards away?” Summer asked no one in particular.
    Her brother smiled foxlike and murmured, “Magic, lovely lady, voodoo island magic.”
    Â 
    D ARKNESS HAD SETTLED over the sea when Barnum finally bid good night.
    As he slipped through the entry lock door, Pitt asked, “How does the weather look?”
    â€œPretty calm for the next couple of days,” replied Barnum. “But a