Chapter 8

San Francisco

Derek woke the next morning feeling as if he hadn’t slept at all. His mind was sluggish, his body stiff. He knew Nick was like a rock of dependability and he was grateful for that but he missed Alex and Rachel. They would have added to the investigative mix and brought fresh insights gained from their own unique experiences. Pete Miller was fulfilling that role and he was at a distinct disadvantage, one most of the world suffered from – fear of the unknown. Put him against a criminal, Pete’s training kicked in and he coped. He probably didn’t even think about what he was consciously doing – it was all instinct and reaction. Put him in a house where the unknown was an everyday event and he began to lose it big time. Eventually, when it came to the showdown, Pete would have an enemy and he would cope. Until then, he was something of a liability.

Derek missed Merlin as well. In a showdown, when backs were to the wall, she was invaluable as an ally. She would have rendered the weapon safe, he had no doubt. But she wasn’t here, she was with Kat Corrigan enjoying much needed time out. And that meant Derek and Nick had to fight this entity alone.

They had worked all the previous afternoon and late into the evening, stopping only for supper, and they had finished the analysis of the recording. From the background noise – the hum of the jet engines, the almost imperceptible shifting of the cargo, the slight vibration of the fuselage – they had extracted a low, almost at the bottom end of the hearing range, groaning sigh. This had paused a split second before the rustling sound which, now the recording had been cleaned up, was definitely the curtain being dragged sharply to one side. Following the pilot’s blurted exclamation of surprise, there was the blast of white noise. This, too, had been examined, sorted out, cleaned up, and it had turned into a roar of pure rage, a cry from beyond the beginning of time. It had struck horror into him and he was only listening to a recording of it with the volume lowered. Pete had looked sick. Even Nick had swallowed. What those two men on the charter plane must have endured … At least it had been quick. Slowed down, it had lasted several long seconds, starting quietly but increasing fast, in noise, pitch and speed.

Once they had recovered a little from that – and it had given them all a headache – they had concentrated on what they had thought to be a voice murmuring something. They were right, it was a voice but not what Derek had expected at all. It was abrasive, guttural and demanding yet, at the same time, soft and low, almost cajoling. It spoke a dialect of Japanese so ancient, they couldn’t hope to translate it but, after Pete had retired for the night, Nick had said he would try running it thru the linguistic database on the mainframe.

He and Nick had discussed the findings briefly and then Derek had gone to bed as well, his head ringing with questions and thumping with pain.

Now, sitting up, he realized the headache was gone but his head still felt fragile, as if made of eggshell rather than bone, and he had a sour taste in his mouth.

There was a brisk knock on his door. “Come in,” he called.

It was Nick. “You look rough,” he commented, leaning against the door and folding his arms. “Bad night?”

“Aftermath of the headache. You?”

“Bit tired, that’s all. I had a thought, just as I was going under, so I called Frances an’ left a message. She just called back to confirm. The flight crew, their eardrums were burst by the sheer explosion of sound.”

“I doubt foam earplugs will protect us.”

“If it gets loose, I doubt anything will. Our best hope is to keep it contained.”

Derek nodded gloomily. “Any luck with the translation?”

“I haven’t been down to check yet.” Nick hesitated. “What are you gonna tell Tokyo?”

“There isn’t much I can tell them,” Derek replied. “Yes, it is the sword as best we can determine without actually looking at it, but we dare not do that for fear of releasing whatever entity is within. We may be able to send it back to them but we recommend no further investigation. In fact, the blade should be reburied as quickly as possible.”

“You think maybe that’s why it was buried in the first place?” Nick frowned.

“A divine weapon should not be on general display. It should remain myth. But you’re probably right. It’s simply too dangerous.”

Nick pushed away from the door. “I’ll go check the computer. You wanna see how Pete’s doing?”

Before Derek could reply, there was another knock on the door and he nodded for Nick to get it.

“Good morning, Dr Rayne, Master Nick,” Andrew greeted. “Breakfast will be a little late today, as you might expect.”

Derek frowned. “As we might expect?” he echoed.

“If you were intending to hold an impromptu party, sir,” Andrew replied rather sternly, “you might have held it somewhere other than the kitchen. I have to clean up before I can start breakfast.”

“We didn’t have a party,” Nick said. “I was working till nearly one. Everyone else was asleep long before I turned in.”

“Is the kitchen ..?” Derek began but shook his head. “Nick, go take a look, will you? I’ll be down shortly.”

“Aye, skipper.”

“You think .. it was Pete who did it?” Derek wondered, frowning.

“I hope it was,” Nick replied ominously.

“When you’re done in the kitchen, you’d best check .. elsewhere.”

“Right.”

Derek rose and showered, taking his time not because he particularly wanted to but because his body demanded it. He felt like he’d been put thru a wringer overnight and the hot water unkinked the knots and eased the joints. While his body recuperated under the soothing steam, his mind turned to the thorny question of who, or what, had wrecked the kitchen. And how? There were simple high jinks resulting in mess but not much more, or there was vandalism which was annoying more than anything else, or then there was outright destruction of property. Maybe it had been Pete who had, unable to sleep, gone down to the kitchen for a sandwich and a beer, and things had spiraled out of his control. Like Nick, Derek hoped that was the explanation. He had a nasty suspicion, though, that Pete was innocent.

Well, it was best to know the truth so he went along to Pete’s room in the guest wing and knocked on the door.

“Pete, are you in there?” he called.

The answer was a long, slow groan of pain which might have been a hangover. Derek hoped it was.

“Can I come in?” he asked

“Yeah,” was the semi-grunted reply.

Derek opened the door and stepped inside. “How are you this morning?”

“To be honest, I don’t feel so hot. Headaches an’ I are bad friends, y’know? I think I need a few more hours’ sleep.”

“Did you go down to the kitchen last night?” Derek inquired mildly.

Pete half lifted his head and glared thru bloodshot eyes. “Are you kidding me? I don’t know where it is. I went to bed with a headache, I tried to sleep it off, but I woke up with it still trying to be my friend.”

“I’ll send Andrew with .. an aspirin and some more water,” Derek murmured. “When you feel ready … ”

“Sure, whatever,” Pete muttered and closed his eyes.

Derek left him and went downstairs. So .. it was out and somewhere in the house. An invisible killer. The day had not started well.

*****

Andrew pushed open the kitchen door and stepped aside so Nick could view the devastation for himself. Nick winced. Butlers were tidy people by nature and this must be causing Andrew some major discomfort. It looked like someone had decided to have a food fight and had fought with a vengeance. The larder was awash. Packets had been taken out, ripped open and the contents tossed around. Cutlery had been thrown from the dresser drawers. Pots and pans lay dented on the smeared, sticky floor. Worse – to Nick’s mind, anyway – the beer bottles had been taken from the icebox and smashed.

“Quite a display,” Andrew commented, coming in behind him. “I don’t believe Detective Miller did this, Nick. He might not understand what drives a man to become a butler but he wouldn’t punish my choices like this. It’s just more work for me to do. In which case .. something else is responsible.”

Nick agreed. “Andrew, I want you to go home. Right now. Something is loose in the house an’ it’s dangerous for you to be here. Go now.”

“It’s the sword, isn’t it?” Andrew deduced.

“Not exactly, but I don’t have time to explain. I have to find this thing, track it down, then deal with it. I can’t risk innocent people getting hurt.”

Andrew nodded. “Is Detective Miller leaving too?”

“It’s his case – ” Nick began.

“And this house is my responsibility. If he stays, so do I.” Nick opened his mouth to argue but Andrew continued, “I understood this wasn’t a typical place of employment when I agreed to work here. I accept the risks which go with this job, Nick. I may even be able to help in some minor way. Now you’ve seen this, go an’ check elsewhere like Derek said an’ leave me to clear this up. Then I’ll fix breakfast .. although it’ll be more like brunch.” He regarded the devastation. “And late brunch at that.”

“You’re sure you wanna stay?”

“Absolutely positive.”

“Okay,” Nick accepted. “If you hear anything or see anything .. not right, call me.”

“Of course.”

Nick took one last look around and left Andrew to make a start. He wasn’t happy with the idea of him staying but he could understand loyalty. He just hoped it wouldn’t backfire.

His next stop was the library. Strangely, this was undisturbed. He went on to the control room, his step slower, his entire attitude more cautious. He would have preferred to have the weight of a gun in his hand but there was no target. Shooting in here could cause more damage than do good. Again, it was undisturbed. Nick looked around quickly but everything was where it was meant to be.

He halted, frowning, suddenly wondering if he’d remembered to set the alarm the previous night. His head had hurt and he had worked late. If he’d forgotten .. it could simply be a case of breaking and entering, and minor vandalism rather than something a lot worse. He looked at the computer and saw it was still doggedly working at the translation task he’d given it. Next, he checked the security of the house, running back the video recording from the camera by the kitchen hall door. As he had remembered to set the alarm system, it was always possible it could have been compromised. He knew doing this was putting off the inevitable – going to the lab and seeing what was in there, or what was missing. He ran the tape on fast play and watched a lot of nothing happening right before his eyes.

There was nothing else for it – he had to go look. He turned for the doorway into the corridor just as Derek came in.

“It wasn’t Pete,” he said.

“Wasn’t an opportunist thief either,” Nick responded. “I’m just gonna check out the lab.”

“I’ll come with you,” Derek replied and Nick was grateful. “How is the kitchen?”

“We’ll be lucky to get lunch today. I tried ordering Andrew to leave but he won’t go. He says he understands the risks in staying.”

“I doubt that,” Derek commented. “It’s good of him though. He will do everything he can to ensure life goes on as normal.”

Nick grinned quickly. “I don’t know how normal the food’s gonna be. Most of the larder is on the deck. Meals are gonna be exotic an’ inventive till Andrew can get to the grocery store again.”

“Another reason I hired him. Andrew is .. very creative at need.”

*****

Pete groaned again at yet another knock on his door. God Almighty, these people are way too polite, he grumbled silently. Why don’t they just shout and come in?

“Yeah!” he said loudly.

This time, it was Andrew. “Dr Rayne said you were suffering, Pete. Aspirin and some water.”

“Thanks.” Pete gulped them down and lay back against his pillows. “You look .. slightly flustered.”

“I believe that everyone rises to a challenge but .. there are some challenges which are unnecessary and simply an excuse to waste valuable time. Someone wrecked the kitchen last night. I left it spotless when I went home; I always do. Yes, during the hours I’m not here, people do go into the kitchen – it isn’t a no go area for them – but they always leave it tidy, if not exactly spotless. Dishes are put in the dishwasher, trash is put in the trashcan. And yet, this morning, I came in to …” He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It’ll take hours to get it back to a functioning state, an’ days to get it completely clean. Do you have any idea how sticky a floor gets when beer’s been thrown over it?”

“They trashed the beer?” Pete frowned, his voice grave.

“They trashed just about everything. Fortunately, they left the cold store so we’re gonna be on a high protein diet for a while.”

“You called the cops?”

Andrew blinked. “Why?”

“You had intruders,” Pete pointed out.

“Yes .. but you’re a cop, you slept straight thru it, and this intruder .. isn’t a typical intruder.”

“I knew it,” Pete muttered. “I just knew the damn thing would get out. I told ’em but they kept on saying the same thing. Wasn’t possible, it was locked away, it couldn’t get out. Perfect.”

“And what more could they have done to prevent this, Pete?” Andrew asked. “I haven’t worked here very long but, in the time I have, I’ve learned that the people in this house aren’t sloppy, don’t take more risks than they have to, an’ try their hardest to keep their guests and employees safe from harm.”

“So why are you still here?” Pete asked.

“For the same reason you are. It’s my job.”

Pete threw back the covers and swung his feet to the floor. “Wanna hand?”

*****

Nick ran a hand thru his hair. “I don’t understand. This entity kills two guys just by .. shouting at them an’ showing its face, an’ trashes our kitchen in an early hours frenzy yet doesn’t make a sound, but leaves the lab, the control room an’ the library untouched. If it had wrecked those places an’ left the kitchen alone, it would’ve put us outta action for weeks.”

“A lucky break for us,” Derek remarked. “Maybe it didn’t realize. Maybe it didn’t recognize any of this. Food is food, no matter how processed it may be. It could have followed its nose. It didn’t crash the aircraft, Nick. In fact, it reanimated the pilots so they could fly it. It’s possible it learned from that lesson and has decided to give technology in all its forms a very wide berth.”

“An’ the library? Books are hardly modern technology,” Nick pointed out.

Derek shook his head. “I can’t begin to guess. Maybe it was just hungry.”

“Then I’ve got something in common with our latest houseguest.”

“Your comment about not making a sound .. we listened to the recording yesterday evening. That could have affected our hearing. Deafened us temporarily.”

Nick thought about it, then frowned. “The pilots had their eardrums blown by that shout, yet it spoke to them so quietly we had to turn the volume right up to hear anything.”

“They couldn’t have heard the words in any conventional way, Nick,” Derek pointed out. “They were dead.”

“Right.”

“The words were directed .. at the spirit, the soul, keeping it anchored inside the brain, I would imagine, so it could power their movements, access their memories so they would recall what to do. Until we know the actual words used, I can only guess. Is the computer finished?”

“Still working on it. Could be hours yet,” Nick replied, folding his arms.

Derek nodded. “Well, if the entity has fled the sword .. somehow, because the lock is still intact .. the weapon is safe for us to examine.”

“The entity could be in here with us,” Nick commented.

“We won’t abuse this weapon. Whatever has resided within it, this sword is still an ancient, mythical artifact and, eventually, will go home to Japan.”

Nick noticed how clearly Derek had said that and how his voice had been a little louder than normal. He was getting the message out there .. in case anyone happened to be listening.

*****

Pete halted, straightening, as something connected. “So that’s why he asked if I’d gone down to the kitchen last night! He thought I did this.” He shook his head, carefully. “What does he think I am? An animal?”

Andrew paused with the mop and leaned on it. “I rather believe he hoped it was you. I know Nick did.”

Pete went to argue then considered why they might have hoped that. “Well .. I wish it had been me even though I’d never do something like this. I’m better than the alternative we’ve got.”

“Exactly.” Andrew resumed his mopping. “I appreciate your help.”

“You’re welcome. Like you say, some challenges are unnecessary. Tell me,” he went on, “whatever made you accept this job offer?”

“This job in particular? Or this lifestyle?”

“Service is service, I guess. How we serve is down to individual choice so I’m not gonna argue that one.”

“This job then. Well, after I met Dr Rayne in the hospital, he told me he was looking for a replacement butler and I said I was interested so he explained what the Luna Foundation was about. I’m an amateur ghost hunter as a hobby so .. it was a likeness of minds, if you will. A convergence of beliefs. Of course, the Luna Foundation is involved in much more than ghost hunting so it’s been an education for me on top of everything else.”

“An’ all these .. creatures who show up every so often .. they don’t get to you? You never have a sleepless night?”

Andrew smiled. “I’ve told you how the people are. They’re very experienced in dealing with that side of the job. So, no, they don’t get to me. My sleep is sometimes unsettled but I can honestly say I’ve never had a sleepless night due to what I’ve seen.”

“Have you seen a lot, Andrew?” Pete asked.

“Not really,” Andrew confessed.

“You never saw the thing I saw in the foyer.”

“Does it give you sleepless nights?” Andrew asked.

Pete hesitated. “Actually .. no, it doesn’t. Disturbed nights, but not sleepless. I guess for the same reasons as you. These people know how to cope.”

*****

Nick unlocked the container and cracked open the lid. He paused to let the pressure equalize then opened it all the way. Then he reached in and lifted out the crate. Derek moved the container aside and Nick laid the crate back on the bench.

“Here goes nothing,” he breathed, prying off the top. He removed some of the packing material while Derek snapped on thick latex gloves.

“We should take photographs for the records,” Derek murmured as Nick pulled on gloves as well. “When this goes back to Tokyo, it may be reburied at the shrine and never see the light of day again. I’ll get the camera. You remove the sword.”

Nick looked at him. “Are you sure?”

“Tokyo did ask for you, Nick,” Derek smiled. “This is your investigation.”

Nick drew in a steadying breath as he looked down at the blade. It was a beautiful weapon, very simple and clean yet magnificent for its simplicity. It was made of folded steel and it looked new. Shiny bright. There were strips of leather wrapped around the hilt to protect the hand and fingers but no marking on the length of the blade, no jewels set into the pommel, no identifying disk bound into the leather. He reached in with both hands and reverently took the sword from its bed of straw and polystyrene pieces. Then, because the weapon almost demanded it, he closed one hand around the hilt and held it as it was meant to be held. The balance was superb. It was shorter than Nick had imagined it would be and lighter but then recalled it had been made by a woman for her own use. The method of folding steel for swords had been around in Japan a long time. The people in Europe had formed their weapons by beating hot metal into shape and hadn’t used the folding steel method until centuries later. For this blade to be made so long ago by that method … It could be the first sword ever made by the use of folded steel.

“How does it feel?” Derek asked softly.

“Amazing. It’s very light and the balance is incredible. Here, try it.”

Carefully, Derek took the sword and held it, then tried a couple of small swings. He was the more proficient swordsman and he could appreciate a fine weapon. He smiled with genuine pleasure, then, reluctantly, put the blade on the bench.

“Superb,” he declared. “I feel very privileged.”

“Yeah. It’s awesome.”

“I’ll leave you to your examination. I’ll go find Pete and .. deal with the other side of this case.” Derek paused at the door. “Nick, a word of advice. Feel privileged. Remember that.”

“I understand.”

Derek nodded and left him alone. He went to his office to run quickly thru the accumulated paperwork then sat quietly for a moment or two to think about what to do next. There was the matter of the entity. Loose in the house, free to go wherever it wanted. What to do about that? Obviously, track it down, isolate it, and then … If it was linked to the sword, it would go wherever the sword went. The simple answer was to crate up the sword and the entity and ship both back to Tokyo. San Francisco would be safe again. Tokyo probably would be safe as well. The crew of the jet flying it home might be left alone but nothing was guaranteed. So, the choices were to put it back into the weapon and, somehow, seal it inside so it could never escape again, or to attempt to destroy it. Possibly destroying the sword would eradicate the entity as well .. but that was a last resort. Derek didn’t believe that Nick or the Legacy members in Tokyo would just agree to that course of action.

Two – there were the autopsy results. Frances still hadn’t decided on a cause of death. People didn’t die of burst eardrums. That had to be finalized. Of course, she might be waiting on them to give her more information which, to provide to her, meant her giving them the cause of death. An endless circle with no resolution.

Three – the recording analysis. They had done some good work there but Derek could hear his old Precept’s voice in his mind again. Look, look, and look again. The least detail might be the one to break a case wide open. There are no such things as clues. Clues mislead. What you think you should find isn’t as important as what is actually there. He had to listen to the recording again.

With the autopsy results possibly giving him how and the recording analysis providing why, Derek could take steps to defend himself when it came to confronting this entity.

The good news was it couldn’t get out of the house. The bad news was they were trapped in here with it.

He went to find Pete.

*****

Pete was on his knees with a scrubbing brush. Andrew was emptying the dishwasher. Derek surveyed their efforts and nodded.

“I should be able to start breakfast fairly soon,” Andrew commented. “Detective Miller has been a big help, sir. I appreciate it.”

“So do I,” Derek agreed. “Thank you, Pete.”

“I’m about done scrubbing dried beer an’ God only knows what else off this floor,” Pete remarked, getting to his feet. “Think someone has invented a new type of superglue here. An’ you guys are welcome. All this has beaten the crap outta my headache. I feel ready to go on a beastie hunt.”

“If you can give up your assistant, Andrew?” Derek queried.

“Of course, sir.”

Pete went out with Derek. “We are going on a beastie hunt, aren’t we?”

“No, not yet. We don’t know enough about the beastie to be able to hunt it with any success,” he explained when Pete looked set to argue. “And, when we find it and corner it, what do we do then?”

“Kill it?” Pete suggested.

“Summary justice?” Derek asked, raising his eyebrows. “It killed so must be killed in turn?”

“I can’t arrest it, read it its rights, an’ haul it down to the lockup, Derek! It can’t stand trial, can it? C’mon, be sensible here.”

Derek nodded, amused despite the gravity of their situation. “And this from the man who has no idea how to write up his report – a request for me to be sensible.”

“You know what I mean. We can’t let it go.”

“No, we cannot do that. However, it may be impossible to kill. I haven’t yet researched the options regarding eradication of the entity. If it does prove to be immortal, we have to find another way of containing it – either back in the sword or in some other receptacle.” He shrugged. “All of which contributes to the reason that we cannot hunt it yet. We don’t know how it kills, or why it kills, and, until we do, we cannot defend ourselves against its attack.”

“Oh God .. don’t tell me we’re gonna hit the books again,” Pete groaned.

“No. You are going to telephone Frances at the coroner’s office to find out the latest from her, and I’m going to play a little more with the recording.”

“Shame we can’t translate what it said,” Pete remarked and Derek added that to his ‘to do’ list – check on the computer’s progress. “What’s Nick doing?”

“What he was originally asked to do – examining the sword. Now the entity is out, the sword is safe to touch.”

Pete nodded and scraped a thumb nail along his chin. “What if it’s gone back?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well .. a man likes to travel but he loves getting home. It’s well known territory. On the plane, it got out but it went back. Who’s to say that it’s still out in the open? Having trashed the kitchen an’ had its little bit of fun, it may be home sleeping it off.” Pete glanced at him. “We can’t tell if it’s in or out, Derek. This house .. is it wired for sound an’ vision?”

“The common areas, yes.”

“I suggest you check your own recordings. See if anything sounds familiar.”

Derek steered him into the study. “I will. You call Frances, then come find me in the library.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks for the idea.”

“Don’t mention it,” Pete smiled.

*****

Nick took photographs and downloaded them onto the computer for filing, then he set the blade on a measuring table and had the computer plot its exact coordinates and dimensions. He put it under a high resolution microscope and checked every inch for anything unusual. He connected it to the computer with tiny electrodes and analyzed its electrical resistance and capacity. Every reading was exact. This weapon had no impurities. In short, it was perfect .. and that was impossible in the real world.

“How’s it going?” Derek asked.

“Is there any chance the Legacy’s gonna fund a scanning electron microscope in the next forty eight hours?” Nick asked. “Because I’d really like to get to see the composition of this metal. Y’know, there isn’t one scratch on it? The blade is smooth, the edge is perfect, and it is still incredibly sharp.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Despite being lost in some underground cavern for who knows how many centuries, in an uncontrolled environment, subject to geological stresses and the elements of erosion, dampness, you name it, this sword has lost nothing of its cutting power or strength. It looks brand new.”

“Is it? Brand new, I mean.”

“The entity – ”

“Could inhabit a modern sword as much as an ancient one.”

Nick thought about the results to date. “I don’t think this is of modern manufacture. Older Japanese swords are better than newer ones, an’ the ones made today are for the tourist market. An entity would turn its nose up at a modern sword. Plus it’s made from one piece of metal. I get a feeling that this sword was the model for all the swords which came after. I’ve never seen steel folded so .. perfectly before. A very good samurai dai-katana .. you’re looking at around ten thousand folds. This is better again. Maybe .. twelve.”

“Then it’s ancient.”

“I can’t carbon date mineral so I couldn’t put a definite age to it but .. at least .. a thousand years, possibly twelve hundred years old. If it is the sword of legend, it’s probably way older than that.”

“How do you feel?” Derek asked.

“Apart from hungry? Fine,” Nick replied. “Why?”

“Pete made the very relevant point that, if the entity got out, it could have gone back. You’ve not noticed anything unusual?”

“Beyond the fact that this is a totally awesome weapon, no, but I’ll keep watch. Thanks for the heads up.”

“He also suggested that we check our audio recordings of inside the house to see if anything matches what’s on the cockpit recorder.”

“I’ll get on it.” Nick turned to put the sword back in the crate. “What’ll you be doing?”
“Checking the computer for the translation progress, and then going over the recording again to see if I’ve missed anything. Pete is calling Frances for an update.”

*****

“Yeah, it’s Pete Miller. I’m just calling to see if you have any more information for me on my two dead guys.”

“Hi, detective. Well .. not really,” she said with a sigh. “The tests came back inconclusive. Whatever caused these effects is .. outside my sphere of reference.”

“So what you’re saying, basically, is that .. it’s magic.”

“Basically, I’m saying I can’t explain it an’ so I can’t determine a cause of death. Magic could be responsible but I won’t put that in my report for the same reason you won’t put it in your report either.”

“Damn straight. Okay, thanks, doc. Look, if you do turn up anything or have any blinding revelations, call me?”

Sure.” She sounded sympathetic. “Bye.”

He hung up, sighed briefly, then dug out the slip of paper from his pocket. Andrew had sketched a map for him and he studied the route to the library. Setting off, Pete’s mind churned over all the information again, searching for a gap in the wall, a chink in the armor. He kept coming back to the duality of the situation. The people in Tokyo, the people on the ground here – all fine. The flight crew – who hadn’t been doing anything more threatening than fly the plane – dead. What made them so different to everyone else? One of the crew had been Japanese so it wasn’t nationality. Maybe it was altitude. They had been at thirty thousand feet, everyone else was at sea level. A stupid idea, he mused, but better than nothing. If the sword had been shipped instead of flown, maybe no one would have died.

And the simple fact was that no one knew for sure what had happened on the aircraft. They had the recording but, without visuals, it was imagination and that could be playing false images on the screen of the mind.

While Pete was wandering carefully toward the library, Derek was checking the progress the computer was making with the translation. It was digging back thru history, working out the very archaic from the merely ancient and had about ten percent completed the task with an eighty percent probability of success. Yet, with each word in place, the speed was increasing. Derek was hopeful that, by midnight, the task would be concluded.

He left the control room and entered the library. A few minutes later, Pete came in, grinning.

“Y’know .. I’ve been thinking,” he began.

“Your ideas always have some merit,” Derek responded.

“Thank you. It’s very generous of you to say so. Anyway, I was thinking that, as this thing’s free to come an’ go as it wants, there’s no reason to keep the sword shut away. I’d like to see it. See what’s so special about it that two guys had to die.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Derek nodded.

“And I was thinking that, maybe, it’s altitude which triggers the attacks. We’re more or less at sea level, certainly not thirty thousand feet, so .. we could be okay.”

“That’s an unusual view on the situation but it could be right.”

“And … Where’re you going?”

“To call Nick and tell him to bring the sword out here.”

Pete tagged along with him to the corridor outside. “And I was thinking too that we really don’t know squat.”

“Frances couldn’t help?” Derek inquired.

“Tests were inconclusive. Whatever caused the crew to die is beyond her sphere of reference. Translated, it means we know squat.”

“Nick,” Derek said into the phone, “bring the sword to the library.” He hung up and faced the other man. “What do you suggest we do now to remedy that situation?”

“I’m still thinking about that one,” Pete replied. “Answer’s close but I need a little more time. It’ll come to me.”

They turned back for the library. Nick was just putting the sword on the table.

“Whoa .. that is one nice looking weapon!” Pete exclaimed.

“Yeah, but you can’t touch, not without gloves,” Nick cautioned.

“Dr Rayne, sir, lunch is … ” Andrew fell silent, staring at the table.

“Here it is,” Nick invited.

“Oh my … What an honor to see the sword of Amaterasu … ” Andrew came closer to stand shoulder to shoulder with Pete Miller. As one, they bent forward for a clearer look, but it might also have been an involuntary bow of respect.

“Thank you,” Andrew whispered.

“You’re welcome,” Nick replied.

“Sir, lunch is served. I’ve made it a little more than usual, seeing as everyone missed out on breakfast.”

“We’ll be right there,” Derek nodded.

“That’s it,” Pete said, snapping his fingers. “That’s what I need to know.”

Nick glanced at Derek who shrugged.

“What we do to remedy this situation.”

“And?” Derek prompted.

“We do what a lotta other police departments do – call in a psychic. This is the Luna Foundation, right? You must have certain .. abilities in that direction.”

Derek looked impressed.

“It was when Nick said not to touch without gloves,” Pete commented. “I thought what if someone did touch it without gloves, what would happen, an’ then I thought of psychics who hold things an’ get images. Can anyone here do that?”

“Yes,” Derek said. “I can.”

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