So how could that be? What am I forgetting?
Racking his memory, he finally gave up and turned his attention to the other mystery on the gold jar.
Leaning down, Hank studied the writing etched onto its opposite side, wondering again if he was gazing upon the letters of the language that the Book of Mormon described as reformed Egyptian . His linguist colleague back at BYU who had helped identify the writing on the gold plates had an equally fanciful name for this script: the alphabet of the Magi.
Hank studied the writing and considered the scribe who had etched the letters onto the jar ages ago. Were the Tawtsee'untsaw Pootseev some kind of scholarly sect, masters of a lost technology who had fled the Holy Lands centuries before Christ's birth? Did these fleeing Israelites- these Nephites -come to North America to preserve and protect their knowledge, some mix of Jewish mysticism and Egyptian science?
Oh, if only I could talk to one of them...
But maybe one of them was speaking to him now, through these flowing lines of proto-Hebrew. Still, Hank knew he would need help to understand the message he was receiving.
He straightened and interrupted Painter, who was in conversation with the Frenchman. It seemed as if the enemies had become colleagues. Still, Hank noted the nervous edge to Painter's mien, the quickness with which his fingers formed themselves into fists, the angry pinch to his eyes, the clipped manner of his speech. He imagined it was taking all of the man's control to keep from ripping Rafael's head from his shoulders. Hank also saw the raw wound in Painter's eyes, born of guilt and pain, whenever he looked in Kai's direction.
It was made worse by the waiting and tension.
Hank offered him something to do. "Painter, could we use your tool to take a photo of the writing on this side of the jar? I can send it to my colleague, the expert in ancient languages and linguistics. When I spoke to him last, he believed he might be able to help us translate it. Not the entire message, mind you. He thought he might be able to pick out a few words here and there, those bits that still bear some relation to modern Hebrew."
"At this point, I'll take any help I can. Even a single word could be the final key to solving this puzzle."
Hank was hanging back while Painter and the French team worked to get a copy uploaded to BYU when he accidentally bumped into the carrying case that had been used to transport the canopic jar.
Hmm...
Painter suddenly called out, drawing everyone's attention.
"NASA just sent word. We got a hit!"