Four thousand years.
In the silence of the Baghdad Museum of Iraq, time itself seemed to have stopped for Doctor Mayra Nassar. Her entire world had shrunk to a four inch clay tablet. The soft bristles of a fine brush swept away centuries of dust from its surface, like a gentle caress on the face of a long lost lover. Mayra's hawk like eyes were fixed on the cuneiform script, an unfinished message from a forgotten king. Her concentration was so profound, she could not even hear the sound of her own breath.
Suddenly, the loud ring of a telephone shattered the deep tranquility. The sound made Doctor Nassar jump in her seat.
She whispered with irritation, "Uff... Hasan! I told you not to..."
She picked up the telephone. The name 'Hasan' was glowing on the screen.
"Hasan, how many times have I told you not to call me at the museum..."
A panicked, breathless, and elderly voice came from the other side of the telephone.
"Doctor! Doctor Nassar! For God's sake, you must listen to me! You... you have to come here right now!"
Mayra's demeanor instantly became serious. "Hasan, calm down. Take a breath. What happened? What did you find? An old pot? A piece of a tool?"
"More than a pot, Doctor! Much... much more! The water of the Tigris river has receded, and something is sticking out of the mud! Wood... very old, rotted wood... it looks like... like the frame of a ship!"
A moment of deep silence followed. The only sound was the quickening of Mayra's own breathing.
"A ship? Hasan, this is not a joke, is it? Nothing like this has ever been found in that area."
Hasan's voice now dropped to a frightened whisper. "I swear on my life, Doctor! But there is something else... the government people are about to arrive. Men in black suits. They do not look like they are from the Ministry of Antiquities... they are something else! If you do not come now, they will take everything with them! Please hurry!"
The telephone line abruptly went dead.
Mayra's mind was racing like a storm. A ship? In the middle of the Tigris river? And mysterious men in black suits? She did not waste a single moment. She dialed the number of her best friend, one of the world's finest linguists, Sara Haddad.
"Sara, get to the Al Matar site immediately."
Sara's voice on the telephone was sleepy and laced with humor. "Al Matar? Mayra, it is seven in the morning. What is there besides river mud? Did you find the Sumerians' grocery list?"
"Something much bigger than a list this time, Sara. Just get there."
Mayra ended the call and dialed another number.
"Jerome, bring all the scanning equipment to the Al Matar site. Right now means right now!"
Jerome's voice was filled with excitement. "My gear is always packed, Mayra. Just send the location. Is this what we have been waiting for all these years?"
"Perhaps something even bigger."
A short while later, by the time Mayra reached the site, the scene resembled a battlefield. The small, quiet place was in chaos. Not the local police, but serious faced men in black suits had cordoned off the entire area. They were not talking to anyone, only pushing people back. And on the riverbank, where the water level had recently fallen, a large, dark, and mysterious object was peeking out of the mud. It truly looked like a broken piece of a ship—black, decayed, yet still retaining an ancient and powerful identity.
Mayra tried to move forward, but two men blocked her path.
"You cannot go any further, ma'am."
Mayra showed her identification card. "I am Doctor Mayra Nassar. This is part of a dig under my supervision. Get out of my way!"
A middle aged man in an expensive suit approached them. His face was emotionless.
"Doctor Nassar, I know who you are. I am Fakhri, from the ministry."
"Mister Fakhri, what is all this? You cannot shut down an academic site like this!"
Fakhri gave a cold smile. "Doctor, this is no longer an academic site. This is now... a matter of national security."
Mayra could not help but laugh at his words.
"National security? In this river mud? What have you found that was not even in the vaults of Saddam's palaces?"
"That is not for you to know. It would be better for you and your team to leave immediately."
As Mayra and Fakhri were arguing, Mayra felt a strange sensation, as if someone was staring at her. She turned her head. A short distance away, leaning against an old Land Cruiser, stood a man. He wore simple, worn out clothes. His hair was messy, he had a faint, mischievous smile on his face, and his eyes held a strange, ancient glint, as if he was enjoying the whole spectacle. He gave Mayra a very slight nod, as if to say, 'The game has just begun.'
Before Mayra could make sense of it, Fakhri gave an order to his men.
"Take her away from here!"
The men began to forcibly escort Mayra away.
Mayra yelled, "You cannot do this! This is my work!"
She was being dragged away. Her heart was filled with anger and helplessness. Just then, someone from the crowd secretly grabbed her hand and pressed a small, mud-caked object into her palm. It was Hasan, who looked at her fearfully before disappearing back into the crowd.
Later, when Mayra was in her car, Sara and Jerome had also arrived, just as shocked as she was.
"What is happening, Mayra? What did they find that they would not even let us see?"
Mayra did not answer. Her mind was still on the stranger. That mischievous smile...
Mayra slowly opened her fist.
In the middle of the mud was a small, metal object. She wiped it with her jacket. It was an old coin, or perhaps a seal. It was made of an unfamiliar metal. But the real mystery was the symbol engraved on it.
It was a five pointed star, surrounded by some text, written in a language that one of the world's foremost archaeologists, Doctor Mayra Nassar... had never seen before in her life.