Death Message

Chapter Two

As if reading each other's minds, Maggie and Brad simultaneously knelt in the sand next to the object. Unaffected by the smallish, bubbling waves lapping against their legs, they began a slow visual inspection.

About an inch below the top of the cone were eight peculiar-looking hieroglyphic-like symbols. Each symbol was unique, platinum in appearance, and engraved inside a small, inverted triangle which was about one-fourth of an inch on each side. The triangles were evenly dispersed and extended horizontally around the entire upper perimeter of the cone. Etched immediately below the triangles were vertical lines varying in size from approximately one-eighth of an inch to perhaps one-third of an inch in length. There were six smaller lines between each of the eight longer lines. The lines were perfectly spaced and looked like incremental graduations found on a common ruler. The upper tip of each of the eight longer lines was precisely aligned with the points of each inverted triangle that contained the oddly shaped symbols. At the lower terminus of each of the eight longer lines and rising about a sixteenth of an inch above the surface of the cone, were highly polished gold emblems, no more than one-fourth of an inch in diameter. Each emblem was unique and resembled something akin to mathematical notations derived from the Greek Alphabet.

An almost invisible seam dissected the apex of the inverted triangles and the ruler-like lines. The conjunction of the symbols, lines, and emblems on the upper part of the object gave the aspect of a combination dial on top of a conically shaped safe.

Maggie grasped the object with both hands and let out a yelp. "God, this thing is freezing," Maggie cried out, shocked at the ice-cold temperature of its outer skin. She immediately began juggling the cone between both hands, "How can this be so cold? It's got to be eighty-five, maybe ninety degrees in the sun."

"Maybe it's a beer cooler," Brad joked.

"Well, I guess the devil skedaddled after he found out whom he was dealing with," Maggie said, a childish playfulness in her tone. Brad, rather humiliated by his initial reaction, looked shamefacedly at Maggie and eked out a tiny smile but said nothing. Maggie lifted the cone above her head and inspected the bottom for other markings. For its size, it was amazingly light. She guessed not more than one or two ounces. Other than the symbols and lines at the apex, there were no other visible characteristics on its otherwise smooth outer skin.

"Here, hold it. It's astonishingly light," Maggie said, handing it to Brad.

"Maybe it's full of 'light' beer," Brad chuckled, attempting to overcome the foolishness of his earlier reaction. "You're right on both counts, it's freezing and virtually weightless. I'm surprised there isn't any condensation on the outside."

Brad tossed the cone a few feet in the air, and it drifted back into his hands as a feather would. He gazed quizzically at the object. Cradling the cone in both hands, he knelt, carefully placing it on the sand. With the knuckle of his forefinger, he tapped and rapped at several different locations around its circumference. Maggie watched, intrigued by Brad's investigation.

"Well, that can't be," Brad finally said.

"What can't be?"

"It doesn't make sense!" he continued, as if speaking to himself.

"What doesn't make sense?"

Ignoring her impatience, he finally said, "What do you think this is made of?"

"Huh? Oh, um, Well, it's not glass, and metal would be, I guess, the only other thing that would radiate cold like that," she shrugged. "Some sort of alloy, I suppose?"