Gray said. “They found this lost civilization.”
“The brothers certainly believed so. And either from the description in the Odyssey or from what they discovered at some unknown site, they believed it was Tartarus, the Greek version of Hell.”
Gray glanced to Mac, who wore a haunted look, likely remembering what had been freed from that ancient dhow’s hold. The man would likely agree with that assessment.
“And it wasn’t just those brothers who believed it was the entrance to Hell,” Roe continued. “Pope Leo did, too. That was why he added this map to his Holy Scrinium, deeming it too dangerous, too heretical. Other popes either respected his choice or came to the same conclusion. So, here it has remained.”
Gray struggled to piece things together in his head. “After finding this civilization, these brilliant engineering brothers encrypted its location into this map. But how did their version end up in Greenland?”
“That remains a mystery,” Bailey admitted. “Maybe the ship got trapped unexpectedly in the ice. Or maybe the vessel was purposely wrecked.” He pointed to the device. “Either way, no other trace remains of their discovery. Even this rendition was based on a partial schematic. Da Vinci had to improvise sections to achieve this copy.”
“But it was not just details that were missing,” Roe added. “The Banū Mūsā also employed an unknown fuel to power their map. They called it Medea’s Oil. Named after the witch Medea, niece to the sorceress Circe, who turned Odysseus’s men into pigs. The oil was said to be an emerald liquid, stored in airless pots, and capable of producing an unquenchable flame.”
Mac sank back into his chair, his face pained. His eyes seemed to stare off into the past. Gray could almost see the flames burning there with the memory of the horrors aboard the ancient dhow.
“That sounds like what I witnessed,” Mac said. “It seemed to even set water on fire.”
Roe nodded. “I believe the compound was a version of Greek Fire—a volatile naphtha and quicklime mixture that even water could not douse—but in this case, from what Dr. MacNab reported, I suspect this oil was refined and made even more potent.”
Maybe with a radioactive isotope, Gray thought to himself, remembering the radiation detected emanating from the map.
Bailey stepped around the bookstand. “Again, without access to this fuel, Da Vinci had to improvise, so he simply added this.” The priest touched a manual crank on the side of the bronze box. “It seems to work well enough. Except for one important detail.”
“What’s that?” Maria asked.
“Like I said, the schematics were incomplete. In fact, the page illustrating the design of the astrolabe, the key to the map, had been partially torn away.”
Torn away?
Gray considered this implication. “Do you think the plans could’ve been purposely damaged?”
Maria glanced to him. “If you’re right, that would make it more likely that the ship in Greenland had been wrecked on purpose, too.”
Gray nodded. “Like someone was making every effort to keep what was found hidden forever.”
The two priests shared a look, both now wondering the same.
Bailey finally frowned. “But that’s all changed now.”
The priest crossed to another chair and opened a box sitting there. He turned back around, holding aloft what had cost lives and put Kowalski in jeopardy. The silver astrolabe reflected the firelight, making it look as golden as the map. Bailey stepped to the stand and seated the astrolabe with great care into the map’s cradle.
“Or I should say somewhat changed.” He reached to the crank. “Watch.”
As he wound the device, everyone gathered closer. A tiny silver ship docked along the Turkish coast sailed out to sea. Likely pulled via magnets hidden beneath the sea’s thin shell of lapis lazuli. Gray held his breath. Then the ship stopped and began to spin in place, as if lost.
“It is as I feared,” Roe said. “Especially upon studying the photos sent by Dr. MacNab after recovering the astrolabe.”
“What’s wrong?” Mac asked. “Is it broken?”
“No,” Roe said. “It seems we are still missing key pieces to this puzzle.”
Gray remembered the video call with Father Bailey in Painter’s office. The priest had used those same words. Missing pieces. “What do you mean?” he asked.
Roe answered, “If you remember our conversation about astrolabes, there is a distinct difference between the earlier flat ones and the spherical designs that came much later. For a flat astrolabe to function, it has to be built with a fixed latitude set to the builder’s location.”
Bailey elaborated, “For a flat astrolabe to work in Baghdad, you have