“Like gravity?” Duncan asked.

She touched his shoulder, silently thanking him. “Exactly. Dark energy and gravity are intimately entwined concepts.”

Rachel frowned at Monk, then turned to Jada. With the mind of a true investigator, she went straight for the secret being kept from them. “Again,” she pressed, “not to belabor the point, why do you believe this cross might be giving off dark energy?”

“Because the comet in the sky is doing exactly that.”

As everyone stirred at her answer, Jada glanced at Monk, knowing she had crossed a line. But she thought Rachel deserved an answer. The woman had an analytical mind that she was growing to respect. It was foolish to keep her in the dark.

Monk returned a small shrug, giving Jada some leeway.

She took it and explained. “Or at least the comet’s path was showing tiny gravitational abnormalities in its course that exactly matched my theoretical calculations.”

“And the cross?” Josip asked.

“From your story, you said the cross was sculpted from a falling star. A meteorite.” She pictured the rain of meteors from the video footage in Alaska. “I wonder if that meteorite could have been a piece of that comet, a fragment that fell to the earth when it last passed.”

Rachel considered that possibility, then asked, “When did this comet make its last appearance?”

“Approximately twenty-eight hundred years ago.”

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“So about 800 BC.” Rachel turned to Josip. “Does that correlate with anything you’ve learned about the cross?”

He rubbed the scruff on his chin, looking crestfallen. “Ildiko only says the cross came from a star that fell long before St. Thomas arrived in the East.”

That was disappointing. It would have been nice to have definitive confirmation.

Then Josip suddenly sat straighter. “Wait!” He reached and stirred through the parchments left by Ildiko. “Look here!”

7:38 P.M.

As Josip shifted a page to the center of the table, Vigor stood up to get a better view.

His friend tapped an image found in the middle of the parchment.

“According to Ildiko, these three symbols were carved into the boxes holding the skull and the cross.”

Vigor adjusted his reading glasses. Very faintly inscribed, he could make out what appeared to be Chinese writing: a set of three symbols with Latin written below them.

Vigor leaned closer to examine the images and read the Latin aloud. “The first symbol is labeled as two trees.” It did, in fact, look like a pair of trees. “The next is command. And the last, forbidden.”

Josip touched the last character. “Notice how the first two symbols combine to form this third one. The one meaning forbidden.”

Vigor saw that, but he didn’t understand the significance.

“Read this,” Josip said. “Read what Ildiko wrote under the symbols.”

Those lines were even fainter, but he recognized two Latin verses from the Old Testament, both from the book of Genesis.

He translated the first one aloud. “ ‘And the Lord God commanded man, saying, Of every tree of the garden thou may freely eat. But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die.’ ”

Vigor read the next line. Similarly, it was a condemnation against eating from another tree—in this second case, the Tree of Life found in the Garden of Eden. “ ‘Behold, man is become as one of us, to know good and evil: and now, lest he put forth his hand, and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live forever . . .’ ”

Before he could finish, Josip pulled the page back possessively. “The earliest Chinese writing used pictures to represent words or ideas, and it often combined simple symbols to form more complex concepts.”

Vigor glanced over to what Ildiko wrote. “But this seems to imply that the early Chinese knew about the book of Genesis. About the story of two trees that God commanded were forbidden to man.”

“I have other examples of the same.” Josip stood up, rushed to a neighboring desk, and began shifting through the stacks there.

Vigor studied the pages left on the table, wondering at the implication. Could the ancient Chinese have had knowledge of the events described in the book of Genesis? Was this confirmation of these biblical stories? The Chinese language was the oldest continuously written language, going back four millennia or so.

Josip returned. “I only found two, but I have many more examples.”

He placed down his first sheet.

The Chinese symbol for man combined with the character for fruit became the sign for naked. Even Vigor could guess the reference illustrated here.

From Genesis 3:6–7.

He quoted it aloud. “ ‘. . . she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked.’ ”

Josip nodded vigorously and slid this page aside and replaced it with another. “And here is one more.”

His friend ran a finger along the illustration. “Here we have early Chinese symbols for alive, dust, and another variant of man. And together they form the character for first.” He looked expectantly toward Vigor.

“From Genesis again,” Vigor said. “A reference to Adam, the first living man God created.”

“Out of dust,” Josip added, tapping the corresponding symbol. “I can show you more.”

He looked ready to do so, the obsession shining in his eyes, but Vigor held up a hand, keeping him on task. “I don’t know if we’re reading too much into this or not, but what does this have to do with Dr. Shaw’s earlier question? About the date that meteorite fell, the one that became St. Thomas’s cross?”

“Ah,” he nodded. “Sorry. You see, the reliquaries of St. Thomas—the boxes, the skull, the cross—were crafted by Nestorian priests out of the East. They were the ones who inscribed those symbols on the boxes.”

“Nestorian?” Jada asked. “I’m not all that familiar with ancient Christian sects.”

Vigor smiled at her. “Nestorianism started in the early fifth century, shortly before the rise of Attila the Hun. It was founded by Nestorius, the patriarch at the time of Constantinople. He created a division in the Church by expressing a simple view that the human and divine persons of Christ were separate. Such a thought was deemed heretical, leading to a schism in the Church. Not that the details are important. But the Nestorian Church spread east after that. Persia, India, Central Asia, even as far as China by the seventh century.”




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