Year Zero by Jeff Long Read Free Book Online Page B

bubbles.”
    “What do you suppose is in there?”
    “It could be almost anything. There is only one way to find out. We must crack the egg.”
    The Egyptian took him literally and expected a hammer. Instead Nikos mounted the capsule in a padded vise and reached across the table for a device that fitted over the capsule. “A glass cutter,” Nikos said, setting calibrations for its height. He brought the diamond tip to rest on the glass. Ever so delicately, he moved it in a circle around the crown of the capsule. The cutter made half a dozen orbits, scoring deeper each time.
    Nikos halted. The cutting was nearly complete. “Come closer,” he said. “There is an unexpected reward. It lasts only a few seconds, once I breach the glass. Make yourself ready.”
    “For what?”
    “The air inside. An atmosphere twenty centuries old.”
    The Egyptian understood. He leaned in. Their heads were touching. “Ready?” said Nikos, and they both emptied their lungs.
    Nikos completed the final rotation. With a jewelers gummy stick, he lifted the top off the capsule. Immediately both men inhaled.
    The Egyptian closed his eyes. He smiled. The scent was ancient, part herb, part oil. As if sampling a narcotic, he sipped the odor of antiquity through his nostrils. He drew it into his lungs. He released the air slowly, tasting its parts. Now he understood why Nikos had offered him no food. This feast, so rare and subtle, was best appreciated on an empty stomach.
    The Egyptian opened his eyes. Nikos was peering into the capsule. It was empty except for a serous material at the bottom, some kind of thickened liquid. “Perhaps the relic disintegrated,” he said. “That happens, especially if the relic was organic. No matter, the labs can still provide details from the residue.” Six times, one for each lab and himself, he dipped a cotton swab inside the glass shell. The tips came out brown and sticky. Each swab went into its own test tube. When he was done providing for the labs, Nikos touched his fingertip to the edge of the glass and rubbed the residue between his fingers. He sniffed at it again, then touched his finger to his tongue. The Egyptian did not go so far. Nikos made several notes under “A,” then wrote, “B,” and bent to cut the second capsule from its threads.
    They repeated the act three more times. Each time they inhaled the first rich, momentary burst of air. Only one capsule contained an object. In capsule C, at the foot of the cross, they extracted a flat splinter of metal. “Iron,” said Nikos. “Part of a nail, what do you think? Or a lance head. The metallurgy is quite different. And if there is any blood residue, it will show up in the lab work, too.”
    He broke pieces from the splinter and placed them into test tubes the Egyptian opened and closed for him. What was left of the metal sliver he set on a gauze pad. When they were finished, there were six sets of four test tubes. The Egyptian helped him pack the test tubes in padded mail tubes that were already addressed to laboratories in Europe, Israel, and South Africa. Nikos took the tray with the pieces of the domo and the opened capsules into his refrigerated chamber. He arranged the dismembered artifact on a glass shelf alongside the rest of his collection. With that they were done. Nikos closed the panels across the glass chamber.
    The Egyptian felt tired, but energized. “When will you get the lab results?” he asked.
    “Within the week,” said Nikos. “I am a favored customer.”
    “You must tell me what they say.”
    “I feel good about this one,” said Nikos. “Perhaps it’s just the company this time. But I sense this one was special.”
    They were in a celebratory mood. “Medea,” Nikos called out. After a minute, his wife appeared at the doorway. “Bring wine. Join us.”
    She and the Egyptian’s wife returned with glasses and a bottle of French chardonnay. Nikos pulled the cork, poured the glasses, kissed his beautiful wife. He