Chapter 3 - Three: Macchu Picchu

Tink. Tink.

Hollow … metal? Chadrick thought, then squeezed the shovel and tapped the dirt again. Tink. Tink. Tink.

"Sweet!" Chadrick yelped, throwing the shovel aside. He knew what he was supposed to do next. First, as a good archaeologist, he was to report to the project leader his find. Then he was to begin the tedious work of gently removing the dirt away from the artifact with a soft brush for the next three days.

He did neither.

Chadrick clawed the ground. Bits of rock shoved under his fingernails. Dirt flew into nose, teeth, and eyes.

All of them gave up on the western site. Said I was an idiot, he thought, laughing to himself. Oh yeah, baby. Cigar-shaped, self-emanating alloy, just like the project leader told me. The oldest artifact on the planet right here in my little hands.

With one inhale, Chadrick blew and let out a small gasp. There was an engraving:

Property of Steward Nikolas Lyons

"Nikolas Lyons?" Chadrick winced. Is that modern English? It can't be. This artifact is over two hundred thousand years old. Way before modern English language was even a thing. Is this some kind of joke? He glanced over his shoulder. Only the ruins of Machu Picchu peered back down the twenty-foot hole. "Ha!" He congratulated himself. English? Mandarin? Seriously. What do I care? Oldest artifact ever to be discovered, and I made the find. That project leader told me it would be worth more money than my eyes had ever seen.

The idea swelled in his mind before he could stop it.

I could slip it into my pocket. Sneak out after nightfall. And I know just the buyer. Chadrick loosened his pocket as he parted the object from its archaeological grave.

A shadow passed over.

Chadrick leapt to his feet. "Bro!"

There stood the crazy old project leader with his straw white hair and green trench coat. He never came groundside, preferring to stay in his hovertruck 24/7 to watch over the Machu Picchu dig like some Norse god of archaeology. He called himself Grand Lyons. Chadrick was sure he'd made that up. Who names their child, "Grand"?

"I—I think I found it," Chadrick said, doing everything he could to keep the tone of frustration out of his voice. He had other plans for the artifact.

"Yes. I saw it from the truck," Grand barked in his slight Scottish accent while pointing his thumb up to a dingy, yellow hovertruck floating above them. "Bring it here, quickly now."

Chadrick obeyed. He tapped the UP symbol on the hoverlift. Electromagnetic thrusters raised him twenty feet and eye level with Grand Lyons. But he didn't make eye contact with the project leader; he couldn't make eye contact with him.

The project leader frightened him.

No other way to put it. Grand Lyons was abnormally tall with the beard of a wild man and a temper to match. And he used big words like "forsooth" and "malcontent."

With a sigh, Chadrick surrendered the oldest artifact on the planet into the old man's dirt-trailed hands.

I'm an idiot, he silently berated himself. Should have lied. Said I didn't find anything. Weak, stupid idiot.

Grand smiled, reading the words out loud, "Property of Steward Nikolas Lyons. Finally!"

Chadrick smiled back. While he might not make a quick buck on the black market, he began to imagine a nice job promotion.

I wonder if this means a director position at the Smithsonian? He thought. Maybe even my own dig? I suppose I should hire a publicist—get me on some talk shows.

"Wonder if the Smithsonian has my Friendbank address," Chadrick put the question to Grand Lyons. "You know, for follow-up questions."

At that moment, if Chadrick's brain was a mechanical device, great gears would be screeching and crying in an attempt to work, maybe for the first time in years. Every gear spoke inching around as he tried to make a connection between Grand Lyons and the artifact.

And then he did.

"Your—your name!" Chadrick sputtered the words out, pointing between the artifact and Grand Lyons. "The last name on the artifact is Lyons. But you—your that's your name. Like this Steward Nikolas Lyons is your family member or something. That doesn't make sense. That thing is over two-hundred thousand years old. No one's family goes back that far."