Chapter 2
"Dad!" Nikko's shout echoed through the hallway.
"I'm on my way, son!" Solomon Zond shouted back, emerging a few minutes later from his office.
"Come on, Dad, we're gonna be late!"
"We won't be late, Nikko; now have you got everything?"
"Yeah, I've got everything! Dad, I've been ready for a half hour already!"
"Well let's go then. You know, I never thought I'd see the day you actually managed to graduate from college."
"Gee, thanks, Dad. Nice to know how much faith in you had in me!" Nikko teased before picking up his bag and following his father out of the building.
The graduation ceremony took well over an hour and was drawing near to two hours when Solomon, Vincent and Maggie finally were able to shake Nikko's hand and congratulate him. Juliet and Anthony walked over to offer their own congratulations, while Calvin watched them with a scowl on his face.
"You know, you never did tell me why you hate the guy so much," Nikko said as he left his father and the others talking business and sat down next to Calvin's wheelchair.
"Do I need a reason?" Calvin snapped, "Besides, you're hardly his number one fan yourself."
"Yeah, but I just think the guy is creepy. You: man, you really seem to loathe him!"
"You know what, buddy? " Calvin said, with false cheerfulness, "I'll tell you a secret. Come here."
Nikko leaned over as Calvin beckoned to him.
"What?" Nikko whispered.
"It's none of your business," Calvin whispered back, before turning his wheelchair round and moving off on the direction of the drinks tent.
"Cal okay?" Solomon Zond asked his son as he sauntered over, a handing Nikko a glass of orange juice.
"He's just being his usual cheerful self," Nikko quipped, taking the glass, "I thought you said he was getting over Sophie? He seems as bad as ever: worse even!"
"Oh, he was," Solomon confirmed, "This is just recent. Past six months at most. It seemed to start with our trip out to the Holy Land. I'm sure something happened out there to cause it, but neither of them will say what."
"Neither?"
"Cal and the Juliet. We were based in Jerusalem. We found some texts that pointed towards something that Damascus. I needed Maggie and Vincent with me, so I sent Cal and Juliet. The journey took them quite a few weeks all told. Longer than it should have, much longer. Something happened on that trip, I know: I just don't know what."
"Damascus. Isn't that, like, where that Saint Paul guy went to? I thought it was miles away from Jerusalem? Why not just send them in the jet?"
"Three reasons," Solomon told his son, sipping his drink, "First, yes, it is miles away, but not far enough to warrant using the jet; second, if I had sent them in the jet, they would have had to cross various different airspaces, some of which are disputed and then organise a landing site in Syria; and third, with the way things are going with the territory disputes in Jerusalem and the West Bank just now, we might have needed the jet for a quick exit at any moment. The majority of the gear stayed with us, as well as all the artifacts we had found so far, bar the ones Cal and Juliet took with them. They had all their stuff in their backpacks and between them they either speak or can work out enough of any languages used in the area to get by okay. They had their medics covers and didn't stick out too much in the crowd. They shouldn't have had any problems. They should have been there and back within a week. Instead they were almost a month."
"What? And you just left them to it? You weren't worried about them? What if Dorna had got them?"
"Of course we were worried, but we knew they were okay," Solomon shrugged, "Juliet checked in with us every night but the satellite phone. Sometimes Cal was with her, sometimes he wasn't, but every night she told us that they were both fine, they had travelled to such and such a place, they had found this or that: all the basic details, but nothing in depth. There was a point where we didn't see Cal for a whole week, but Juliet assured us he was fine, just working on something. They said they had come across something on the way and if all went well, they'd tell us all about it when they got back."
"And did they?"
"Apparently they found some sort of underground labyrinth, possibly some early catacombs. They did some work there, mapping and suchlike, all the usual groundwork, meaning to go back later, but with Juliet getting to the end of her PhD and our trip to Alaska, they never did. I still haven't seen most of the stuff they found there: we've been too busy with the rest."
"What happened in Alaska?" Nikko asked his father, watching him shrewdly.
Solomon's face darkened slightly and he looked down at his glass, avoiding eye contact with his son.
"Maybe you should talk to Cal about that," Solomon said quietly.
Nikko frowned.
"What is it, Dad?"
"Like I said, Nikko: talk to Cal."
Nikko watched, still frowning in puzzlement, as his father drained his glass then turned and walked off towards the drinks tent. Looking around, Nikko found himself on his own.
"Great," he said to himself, "whose graduation is this anyway?"
Meandering among the crowds, Nikko spotted Calvin, glowering through the mass of people in one, very particular direction. Nikko followed his gaze and saw Anthony Blake, his arm around Juliet's shoulders. Blake was watching Juliet closely as the couple talked and he certainly was not paying much attention to where he was going. As they walked through the various aggregations of people, Nikko noticed that they too were heading for one of the refreshments areas, where numerous tables were scattered around bearing canapés, sandwiches and drinks of both alcoholic and non-alcoholic varieties.
If only that table were a little to the right, thought Nikko.
The young man grinned as he imagined the effect, picturing it clearly in his mind. No sooner had he done so than there was a yelp of pain as Anthony Blake walked straight into the corner of the table, positioned at the very uncomfortable height. Nikko blinked. He was sure they had been on a course to miss the table. He laughed a little, uncertain of what he had seen, then noticed Calvin. The look on the young man's face was not one of joy at the petty downfall of an opponent, nor even sympathetic pain, it was sheer bewilderment. Nikko's eyes flicked from Cal's face to the doubled up figure of Anthony Blake by the table. He swallowed nervously. Was the table exactly where it had been? He had been sure before; now he wasn't. What was more: if it had moved, then Cal had seen it do so.
Nikko tried to regain his composure. Up until now, the ability he had discovered two years ago, to move objects, had only brought nearby things closer to him. He had been careful, very careful, to keep his new talent hidden, using it only when he was alone in his room at college or at home. He had never even tried to move things away from him and had never even considered trying to move anything so large or so far away. He hadn't even told his father: he had been waiting for that never-present occurrence, the 'right moment'.
Seeing that Cal was about to go over to Juliet and Blake, Nikko hurried over.
"Hey, Cal!" Nikko called, stopping the young archaeologist in his wheelchair-bound tracks and racing to his side, "What's up, man? You look like you've seen a ghost!"
"What?" Cal replied, his eyes flicking between the offending table and Nikko, "Oh, no, I just thought... It's nothing, never mind."
"I'd have thought you'd be rolling in the aisles at old Tony over there," Nikko said, his voice forcefully cheerful, "I mean, man, that must have hurt!"
"Oh, y-you saw that?" Cal fixed his gaze on Nikko a little more solidly, "D-did you...? I mean..."
"What?" Nikko tried to keep his tone jovial.
"Did you do something to that table?"
"What? Me?" Nikko could feel the panic begin to creep into his voice, "H-how could I? I was over there: behind you!"
"You didn't have some string or something rigged up? A friend standing by the table or something?"
"What? No!" Nikko felt relief flooding into him, "I mean, even I couldn't know they were going to walk by that table, right?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, of course! What? You think I'm psychic or something?"
"Then how come I just saw that table move about a foot to the right just before Blake hit it?"
"How should I know?" Nikko thought fast, "Maybe someone was leaning against the other side. Maybe there are more than two people here who don't like Blake."
"Maybe," Cal echoed, casting a glance back to where Juliet was looking after Blake then looking away sullenly.
"So... Er..." Nikko paused, not quite sure how to broach the subject but wanting to take Calvin's mind off Juliet and Blake, "you gonna tell me what happened in Alaska?"
"There's nothing to tell, Nikko."
"Come on, man, you fell far enough to end up in a wheelchair. Even if it is just temporary, that kind of injury has to have a story behind it."
"Not one I want to tell."
"Well, then it's something you shouldn't keep bottled up. Just tell me and get it over with. You'll feel better if you do."
"You sure about that?"
"Well, you won't have me bugging you for one thing. I mean, that's gotta be a plus!"
Cal gave a short, cynincal laugh and shook his head.
"I fell, Nikko, that's all there is to it."
"If that's all there is to it, then why won't Dad tell me what happened?"
Cal looked away, frowning, then looked back.
"Fine," he said, "I'll tell you. But not here. Let's go find somewhere quieter. Away from those two."
Nikko glaced over at Juliet and her beau and nodded, following as Cal wheeled his way through the crowd and back into the now deserted college building.