"That's not remotely amusing," she jousted, but then she realized what he inadvertently revealed. "Wait, he'd kill you to get to me?"
Sam looked up innocently.
"In other words, for him to win my affections you assume you would have to be eradicated?" she wanted to smile, but she did not. Sam wore a look of absentminded oblivion to the implication, but of course he knew what he had said and he knew that she was sharp enough to catch on.
"You think you are in my sweet spot until someone punches you out of it?" she gasped deliberately. Now she laughed.
"Who is in your… sweet spot, dearest?" Sam flirted, his brown eyes smoldering into hers with an underlying honesty, which stripped her masquerade down to the bone and demanded attention.
"Nobody," she smiled coyly and pretended to know how to assemble the spectroanalysis machine. All she really did was rearrange the components and felt stupid. Her heart pounded like a schoolgirl's at the thought of Sam's eyes on her and she recalled his scent and the feeling of his body in her embrace when she hugged him a few months before. It made her tingle and she liked it under her cold exterior that he so easily thawed with one remark. She remembered how devastated he was when that Nordic ape was about to put a bullet in her skull, how he reacted at the thought of losing her. Maybe he really was in her sweet spot. She was just too much of a bitch to admit it.
"Do you need help with that machine?" Sam asked, as he sauntered over to her side. For once Nina allowed herself to be a helpless maiden and stood back for him to have a look. Sam was technically orientated and he quickly figured out how to rig up the machine to her computers.
"Thank you!" she exclaimed, and she did not care that she sounded excited by the assembly of a machine. He took a bow and smiled.
She opened the chest carefully and took out the wrapped artifact, placing it on the granite surface. He joined her with his long lens high-def camera.
"No flashes," she said.
"I know."
"You know," she said, as she revealed the metallic weapon by peeling off the wrapping, "there are many spears all over the world, claiming to be the actual weapon that pierced the side of Christ."
"I know. I researched some of them when I had to do a piece on religious icons a few years back. What I want to know is, if this is just another one, what is the big deal?" Sam said, as his eyes combed the rough smithing of the iron, the gold and silver inlay.
"The middle part of the spear is undoubtedly gold. See how pallid the metal looks?" Nina said as she put the leather wrapping aside. Sam nodded and took a few snapshots of it. He zoomed in on what looked like winding thread, which held the gold fast to the weapon and took a picture of the detail.
"This has a remarkable resemblance to the spear in Vienna, but, of course, it isn't the same one," Nina mentioned, as she watched Sam work.
"Perhaps a replica?" he asked.
"No way."
"You sound awfully certain," Sam said, as he sank the camera to look at Nina.
She was certain that it was not a replica, but she never said it was the actual Spear. What she based her certainty on she was reluctant to share, because she had no concrete proof. All she had was the distinct feeling of warning every time she handled it. It was unkind. It was maleficent and aware, which was not the quality of an inanimate object of metals.
"I just have a hunch that it is something far more infectious than we might believe, Sam. Don't ask me to explain it. Call it woman's intuition, if that would serve its purpose," she said evenly.
"If it is not a replica, then what is it, in your professional opinion?" Sam asked, without his usual taunting. He wanted to know what she thought. He trusted her deductions as she was, after all, a master in the field. Nina stood very close to him, so close he could smell her breath when she spoke. Her head tilted back to look at him, "I think it is the only real relic of them all! There is something to it that frightens me to my core," she whispered, as if she did not want the piece of metal to hear her words.
"You don't think this has anything to do with the historical accounts of the US general who claimed the spear after Hitler had hidden it in Nuremberg?" he asked, hoping his facts were accurate.
"George S. Patton? No, I think that piece was another part of history, but not the one used at the crucifixion," she shook her head.
"You said it had malevolence to it, right? After Hitler lost the Spear he committed suicide. Then General Patton returned the relic to Austria and he died shortly afterward. The legend holds that the Spear brings unequalled power to the one who owns it, but is always soon lost and the owner left dead," Sam reasoned. "That means this is the right spear, right?"
"No, I don't believe that. I think that was just a fabrication to strike fear into those who would try to steal it. I think Hitler's suicide was something completely different and Patton's death was coincidence," she explained. She turned back to the artifact on the table and looked at it with great veneration, tinged by fear. "I believe the true spear that injured Jesus is far more sinister, as if its insolent act had cursed it, imbued it with everything that hated Jesus — immersed in evil, destructive iniquity!" Nina's voice shivered uncontrollably and became louder as she spoke, unaware of her terror being voiced so harshly.
Only when Sam put his hand on hers and caressed her back with the other, did she snap out of her admission. He said nothing. She took pause before continuing in a gentler tone, "In 2003 a British metallurgist was allowed to examine the spear and he determined that it dated from AD seventh century. It was not old enough to have been the one from Golgotha, Sam," she said. Whispering, she spoke near his ear, "I think this one is."
By her tone of voice Sam could feel the chill of what she insinuated. Nina, the sober-minded historian, the workaholic academic, was terrified. However, he did not want to perpetuate her assumptions.
"All right, then. Study it. Take it through all the tests you need to date it and if you find that it is older than the more famed one I will document it on film, I will publish it and we will have to decide what to do with it," he coaxed, hoping she was wrong about the object's alien intelligence and apparent malice.
"Hitler started a world war to acquire this thing, only, I don't think he obtained the correct item. If a man as evil as that plummeted the entire world into despair to procure it, do you think he did it to cure cancer? To obtain riches that would provoke the envy of Midas? To have power over nations?" she rambled incessantly.
"Hitler did want the Spear of Destiny so that he would have power over nations, Nina," he tried, but she was not done.
"He did have power, Sam! He did! With a fake religious icon, six centuries too young, in his possession he swept through the world like a plague. It was all him. But had he had the true spear….this Spear, Sam… I believe he could wield its evil to bring forth something far, far more emphatically devastating to the world," Nina ranted, as quietly as she could.
Sam could feel the truth in her madness, see the conviction in her argument while her lips quivered. Like someone who had come on the greatest secret in history she shivered as the insight capsized her beliefs. Even now, merely in the presence of the relic, Nina Gould had become a lunatic emissary for its intent. He could not believe how her words flowed as if she was steered to knowledge by some unseen presence and soon he allowed the absurdity to settle in his mind and nestle in his considerations.
"Nina."
"Sam, this artifact contains the essence of evil. It enforces a… a… karma, I dare say, to those who seek out greed and power. It seeks a master becoming of its malevolence, so that it can turn men to vessels—"