The Milestone Protocol Ernest Dempsey (best short novels of all time .txt) đź“–
- Author: Ernest Dempsey
Book online «The Milestone Protocol Ernest Dempsey (best short novels of all time .txt) 📖». Author Ernest Dempsey
Sean bent over and looked down into the tube. He retrieved the phone from his pocket and switched on the light, then pointed it into the dark recess. After making sure there were no traps lying in wait, he narrowed his hand, pinching fingers together and jammed it into the hole. He fiddled with the object inside for a few seconds, then got a grip on it and carefully pulled on it.
He replaced the phone in his pocket as the precious stone came into view and the diffused daylight shone upon it.
It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. It wasn’t a ruby; at least he didn’t think it was, though the color was definitely similar.
The gem was cut in the same shape as the tube they discovered among the relics of Saint Alexius. As he raised the stone to inspect it further, he found that it had been hollowed out with the precision of a modern drill, or perhaps even a laser. Tiny holes pierced all sides of the gem in a seemingly haphazard pattern. Sean puzzled over the oddity for a moment, then bent down and lowered himself to the ground.
Sean handed the stone to Adriana. “I believe this is yours,” he said, half kidding.
Adriana wrinkled her nose. “Good thing I didn’t ask for a diamond this size,” she said with a wink.
“That’s Schultz money for something that big.”
“You guys are hilarious,” Tommy interjected, stepping closer. He peered at the gem while Adriana held it up for all to see. Tabitha jumped down from the ledge and joined the group, eyeing the incredible find with rapt curiosity.
“I’m no gemologist,” Tommy started.
“No?” Sean chirped, sounding astonished.
“But,” Tommy continued, ignoring the sarcasm, “I was going to say I think you’re right. It’s not a ruby. It’s too dark. And note the purplish hue to the red?”
“It’s a diamond,” Adriana stated.
The others turned and faced her.
“Diamond?” Tabitha questioned. “I’ve never heard of a red diamond before.”
“That’s because they’re the rarest of all diamonds.” She turned the gem in her hand, tilting it so the dim daylight could illuminate it at least a little against the bright backdrop of the newly fallen snow. “Normally, from what I understand, they are small—less than a carat.”
“That would make this one the largest ever discovered then, wouldn’t it?” Sean asked, suddenly on high alert again. He searched the surrounding area but saw nothing that qualified as a threat. Then he hurriedly propped the ornament atop the threaded cylinder and spun it around until it was flush with the marble surface again.
“Yes,” Adriana answered his question. “I believe it would.”
“We need Tara and Alex to help us with this one,” Tommy said, retrieving his phone. He hesitated, then did a web search instead. He entered the words red diamond into the search bar and waited. The results populated on the next screen, and he tapped the first one.
“Looks like something is deformed at the atomic level for diamonds to come out red like this. The deformation bends the light differently than other diamonds.”
“Interesting,” Tabitha said. “But why a red diamond? Why leave it at this artist’s grave like that?”
“And more curiously,” Sean added, “what’s with all the holes drilled through it, and the one at the bottom?”
“The shape of the tip matches the rounded metal container we found in the reliquary of Saint Alexius,” Adriana said. “Might be a good idea to put it in there so as not to attract attention.”
“Good call,” Sean said. He retrieved the tube and handed it to Adriana, who then slipped the gem into the cylinder and enclosed it with the cap.
“You want to hold on to it, Schultzie?” she asked, holding it out to Tommy.
He started to reach for the proffered artifact, then put up his hands. “It might be safer with you.”
“You have no idea how right you are,” Sean quipped.
Adriana turned to him with a glare, but he put on his most innocent yet mischievous face.
“You two have some issues you want to discuss with the group?” Tabitha pried.
“No,” Adriana said, her voice filling with warning that the discussion was over.
“Okay. Just asking.”
“Let’s get back to the car,” Sean suggested. “I don’t like being so exposed out here in the open.”
His comment caused the other three to spin around, scouring the area for trouble.
He marched past them toward the front gate, and full of paranoia, the others followed.
The snow continued to fall, accumulating on the ground, the rooftops, the walls, and the skeletal trees. It had a clean smell to it, though the scent of the huge city still tainted it somewhat. Snow in the countryside smelled different.
Sean thought about the scarce few snows he’d experienced as a child growing up in Southeastern Tennessee. Every few years the area would be hit with a good one, but those were few and far between. The best—or worst, depending on your viewpoint—had been the famed blizzard of ’93. That storm dumped two feet onto the Chattanooga tri-state area, and while many people in the Northern States found that to be a laughable amount—a winter Tuesday for them—in the South, it had been the snowstorm of a lifetime.
Every time Sean’s hometown or the Atlanta suburbs received a decent snow, he made sure to go outside and take long, deep breaths for several minutes, just to appreciate the way the air smelled. He’d been to other places, and the scent was always a little different no matter where he went. Still, it reminded him of those days of his childhood, the times when he was still innocent, made snowballs and went sledding, and spent more time with friends and family.
All of it brought a very real concern to the front of Sean’s mind. As he was growing older, now in his early forties, he wondered how much time he had left, and if he were spending it the best way he could. He’d traveled around the world,
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