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“I see,” she said.

“Ulman sent me…some artifacts,” said Kinnard.

“We know it’s not exactly legal,” Masterson said, putting up a hand, “but it could also be something important enough for all of us here to drop what we’re doing…and investigate.”

Everyone stopped to examine Alred’s expression. But where they seemed to have expected to find awe and curiosity, she kept her face stone-like and unaffected. “You’re saying Ulman found something so revolutionary that everyone here is considering a sudden sabbatical to study it?”

Masterson nodded, his grin intensified by the signs of her growing interest.

Wilkinson said, “Of course we’re all engaged this semester and can’t just run off.”

“At a major university like this? Sure you can. You all have assistants, don’t you?” Alred said. “They could take your classes easily enough, couldn’t they? There’s more to it…isn’t there. You don’t want to drop everything and risk a bad reputation on sketchy finds. You want me to take the risk, to get my hands dirty first. Then, if there really is something out there, you’ll gladly jump in. But only after I’ve had my shot.”

Goldstien smiled. “Very good!”

Masterson nodded, “That’s right.”

“But you also want me to clean up this mess and present my finds first…in the case there isn’t really anything there.”

No one nodded, and that meant yes.

Kinnard rested his thick chin on his clasped hands. His eyes told her he wasn’t as interested. In fact, he looked exhausted and trapped in the room.

“And what about you?” Alred said, pointing at Arnott with her chin. “Why don’t you have anything to say?”

He smiled. “It’s all been said.”

Everyone waited, but she wasn’t sure for what. Finally she asked, “So what’s the catch.”

“There isn’t one,” Masterson said with his false grin.

“Actually-” Kinnard started.

“Ah!” Alred nodded, sure that she knew everything a step ahead of the play.

“There is something, but it’s not exactly a catch, per se. ” Kinnard looked up at her. He touched the black rims of his glasses, but didn’t remove them. He looked at Alred’s tight little mouth, her straight brow, and her slender nose. She got the feeling that he was looking inside her, asking questions she couldn’t hear. “There is already another student working on the project.”

“A joint dissertation?” said Alred, looking again at Masterson, with disdain on the back of her tongue. How was that going to help her shoot up the ladder as Masterson had repeatedly promised?

“A counter dissertation!” said Masterson.

“I’ve never heard of a counter dissertation.”

“Well maybe you have,” Masterson said. “Many times when a dissertation is argued, the student is countering a previous study, sometimes someone else’s dissertation.”

“So what are you saying,” she asked.

Wilkinson smiled, and she could see a lot of thought behind those old lips. The words about to come out had been well-discussed. She held her breath as he spoke. “Ms. Alred. What do you know about the Mormons?”

She breathed. That wasn’t a question she’d expected, and she let it show on her face. Her brow bent, and her eyes squinted.

Wilkinson waited.

She looked from Masterson around the table to Kinnard on the end. “Mormons,” she said, her eyes accessing the dictionary in her mind, “I believe they are a Christian sect founded in Utah, aren’t they?”

“Whether or not they are Christian is debatable,” Wilkinson said, rubbing the side of his nose. “They say they are. They also believe they have a special tie to ancient South and Central America.”

“ The Book of Mormon,” she said.

“Right,” Masterson said, looking through eyelids that had long ago grown into thick layers of skin which now almost cut off his vision entirely. “Have you ever read their holy scripture?”

“No,” she said and saw the sigh. “Never.”

Masterson took over. “The Mormons believe a group of Jews built an ark, sailed across the Pacific, and settled somewhere in the mid to lower Americas. Of course, they don’t have anything to back up this claim.”

“That’s right,” Alred said, looking at the ceiling. “Don’t they believe the Amerindians to be the descendants of these Jews?”

Masterson nodded.

“So how does this fit into my dissertation?”

Kinnard answered. “The student I brought into the project is a member of the Mormon church.”

“I…see. And I’m supposed to debunk the pronouncements you expect him to make.” Alred pushed her hair over her right ear and kept her face at ease. “Why did he get the project before me?”

“I’m not technically a professor of Archaeology or anything that has to do with Mesoamerican studies,” said Kinnard. “I teach ancient Near Eastern history. Porter is my student.”

“Do you know John Porter?” Goldstien said with a suspicious smile, as if suspecting that the two had dated secretly or she was a Mormon and was hiding the fact for some reason.

“Should I?” she said, shaking her head. “He’s an archaeology student?” she asked, confused. Why would this John Porter be studying under Dr. Kinnard if Kinnard has nothing to do with American archaeology?

“Only wondering,” Goldstien said, leaning back in his chair.

“Porter’s an analyst of ancient Near Eastern studies,” Kinnard said. “Ulman sent me the package, because he thought I might be interested. I shared it with John Porter before discussing it with Dr. Masterson, which I shouldn’t have done. But it’s done. Porter’s been working on the project for a few days now.”

“How could he be working on an archaeological find from Mesoamerica if he has no knowledge of Mesoamerican studies?” Alred said, feeling offended and assaulted.

“The find,” Wilkinson said with a pause, “seems to draw…a connection to the ancient Near East.”

No one said a word.

“So the Mormons are right?” Alred said. She saw the smiles, but didn’t change the shape of her face. Her question was both sincere and sarcastic. She didn’t believe any religion had logical bearing or any integrity. They helped people be morally and ethically better than they might otherwise be, but the rest was a fill-in-the-blank to lessen the fear of death-look at Heaven’s Gate, the thirty-nine human-inhabiting “aliens” who committed suicide at the end of last week! She smirked and looked at Kinnard who sat still with his hands in front of his mouth.

“If the Mormons are right, we are all in grave spiritual trouble,” Masterson said with a chuckle.

The room rumbled lightly with laughter before Wilkinson continued. “If you look hard enough, you’ll see what you want to see. That’s an old idea historians must deal with daily.”

“Of course,” Alred said, hoping this was all some huge April Fools joke.

“Porter is a keen student,” Kinnard said. “He is very skilled in what he does and loves it when everyone disagrees with him. He thrives on argument-”

”-But then so do you!” Masterson added, jabbing his finger in the air, grinning at Alred. “That’s why I knew you would be the best student for the project.”

“John Porter will give a wonderful analysis of the find, though his time is extremely short,” said Wilkinson.

“And therefore so is mine,” Alred replied with a sting at the aged scholar.

Goldstien squinted at Alred, “But Porter will also have a resolute Mormon bias.”

“What we want from you is an unbiased study of Ulman’s discovery,” Masterson finished. “While Porter quickly presents his dissertation, which will no doubt excel in the field, you will present a counter dissertation just as briskly, which will be the first objective view of the discovery presented by Porter. The scholars of the world will love you, and you will soar to the top of all the most recent doctoral graduates. You will then gain access to any university in the world and be set for life as a well-known scientist!” He grinned, and it was his real smile: one full of greed.

Alred shot a quick and curious glance at Kinnard who continued to silently stare into the tabletop.