Chapter 7 The Ring (No, not THAT one)
The sun was shining high over the horizon as Alan navigated his mom's Volvo through the streets of Manhattan. They had come over the Triboro bridge and Alan elected to head downtown through the streets instead of taking the FDR Drive. At the corner of Second Avenue and 79th Street he made a right turn and aimed the car towards Central Park, turning north on Madison Avenue. He found a spot on East 81st Street, less than a half a block for the museum.
They met Nina and baby Shara in the Stanhope Hotel, where they were going to have lunch. The hotel is directly opposite the Met, and Nina and the baby were waiting in the lobby for them. After a pleasant lunch they crossed to the other side of Fifth Avenue and entered the museum. Alan's mom was keen to see a visiting exhibition of the works of the 19th Century British photographer Benjamin Brecknell Turner, and they started out in that gallery. Alan had been to the Met a number of times over the years, and remembered that they had an Assyrian collection, so he excused himself from his mom and Cousin Nina, and told them he'd catch up with them later. Both he and his mom carried cell phones, and they would be able to remain in contact.
Alan went to the second floor, and headed over to the south wing. There were a number of enormous stone tablets depicting Assyrian battle scenes, but looking at the dates on the labels Alan saw that they were dated much to early to be related to the Seed of Paishiya'uvada. In the next room Alan peered into the various glass display cases. One of the objects caught him up short. There was a ring, and Alan thought it was glowing. Funny, the guy standing next to him didn't seem to see the glow. Alan asked him about it, and the guy gave him a funny look. Alan really wanted to see this ring, to touch it, maybe even slip it over his finger. He summoned a guard over to the case and asked him to open the case, but the guard didn't have the key. That made sense; what kind of a museum give out master keys to security guards? The guard told him that he would have to speak to someone in the curatorial staff to get the case open, and helpfully, he spoke into his radio and asked his dispatcher to get someone from the Near East department to come meet Alan in the gallery.
Alan walked around the rest of the other cases in the gallery, peering into them intently. No other object seemed to give off a glow, and he hastened back to have another look at the ring. He read the label next to it. In his first look he had missed it, distracted by the glow. The ring, according to the label, was a sixth century B.C.E. signet ring belonging to the prime minister in the court of Darius the Second. Shortly a man from the curator's office arrived, from the Near East Division. He introduced himself as Dr. Neil Swindon-Smythe. About thirty years old, and speaking with a British accent he explained that the ring used to have two parts, and that the seal had never been found. Evidently, all orders and official documents of the empire were affixed with the courtly seal, which had been attached to the ring, the prime minister dripping a bit of hot wax on the parchments and then pressing the seal to it. It was found in a crypt, and markings etched into the wall of the cave indicated that the occupant was the vizier of Darius the Second, a man called Kanteer.
"Ko'un-Zir," Alan thought to himself, "That's Ko'un-Zir's ring." Alan asked how the museum acquired it.
"Well, it's not particularly valuable. The ring was found during a dig in what is now Iraq. It was an international expedition undertaken in the 1940s, and I believe that the team that unearthed the grave was led by a Swiss archeologist named Jean-Pierre Massimo. He was a famous researcher, and we have a number of his finds in our collection. This ring was found by him on one of his earliest expeditions, before he really made a name for himself. Because this museum was one of the underwriters of the dig we were allocated a share of the finds. The Kanteer Ring is not considered a very important piece. If it had been found intact that would make it a completely different story. Most of the time we don't even display it. It is one of the many Assyrian pieces put out in rotation to fill the cases."
Alan sent him a mental command, and he unlocked the case and handed him the ring. In his hand the ring seemed to vibrate, and the glowing became more pronounced. Alan and the man walked back to his office, and Alan ordered the man to delete all references to the Ring of Kanteer from the inventory databases. As he was walking out Dr. Swindon-Smythe came up to him and presented Alan with a business card. Alan considered slipping the ring on his finger right then and there, but because of the trance he had fallen into in his room last weekend he figured it would be better to wait until he was home. Slipping it into his pocket he was surprised that it continued to vibrate gently against his thigh.
He met up with his mother, and then drove her, Nina, and the baby to Nina's apartment on the Upper West Side. He parked the car in a garage and headed for the nearest subway station, catching an uptown local at Broadway and 72nd Street. Ten minutes and six stops later got out at 116th Street, and once he reached the top of the stairs he found himself just outside the gates of the university. He presented himself at the admissions office, and was delighted to find that a tour of the campus was set to begin in less than a half an hour. He had taken this tour last fall, but now that he was admitted he paid closer attention. They hit the major highlights, the library and some of the academic buildings, plus a look inside one of the dorms. When it was over Alan asked the guide where the bookstore was. He wanted to buy a sweatshirt, and he also needed some books.
Twenty minutes later Alan walked back to the subway, carrying his bundles. In one bag was the sweatshirt and one of those rear-windshield stickers for his car. In the other bag was a hardback copy of the complete stories of Jorge Luis Borges, and a few books on the Ancient Near East.
* * *
He headed over to Nina and her husband's apartment. He had called his mom before descending into the subway, and she told him that dad was still busy at work, and they would meet up with him some time after seven. Alan and his mom decided to have the dinner at El Faro, an old Spanish restaurant in Greenwich Village that was a family favorite. Nina and her husband Jack joined them. Jack and his dad worked at the same firm; Jack was a fresh-out-of-law-school associate when Alan's dad introduced him to his niece Nina, and they had married less than a year later. All through dinner the ring vibrated in Alan's pocket.
When he got home he was hesitant about putting it on. Perhaps it would be a mistake. Better first to read more about the Ancient Near East in the books he had bought.
* * *
Alan slept late the next day, not rising until well after ten o'clock. He had stayed up very late reading his new books. The Borges story, "Tlon Uqbar, Orbis Tertius," was interesting but not terribly informative to his situation. It centered on the discovery by Borges and his friend Adolfo Bioy Casares of a magical land. They never actually visited this place, but rather read about it in books. It turned out in the end that he whole thing was a fraud devised by a vast conspiracy. Smerdis was mentioned, though only in passing, and the imprint of the conspirators was called Orbis Tertius.
In his other books Alan read that there was a rebellion against the rule of Cambyses II and that his brother Smerdis had crowned himself in his place. Later Smerdis was killed by a detachment of seven Persian men. Smerdis was killed in secret, and no one outside the palace knew the rebel king was dead. When Cambyses II left to put down a disturbance in Egypt, a pretender who claimed to be Smerdis, a man named Gaumata, seized the vacant throne. Cambyses II died in his travels and was succeeded in election by Darius II, son of Hystaspes, also known as Devaryesh, and the new king had Gaumata and his Magian followers put to the sword. They day of the slaughter was known as Magophonia, from the Greek magosphonos, or "Magi Slaughter."
Alan thought about the ring, but left it in his desk drawer. He could swear he could hear it buzzing in the drawer all the way over on the other side of the room.
* * *
Around Tuesday in the late morning Kate watched from the front window as Chad pulled out and drove off; as he made the turn out of the driveway he thrust his arm out the window and waved. They had just had an argument about Alan; Kate denied that she and Alan had something going on. Chad, after a long round of convincing, sort of believed her, and they kissed and made up. The past couple of days, since the big party, Kate spent some time thinking about her "relationship" with Alan, and she had come to some conclusions.
Alan made her feel good, made her engines roar. She didn't want to be his girlfriend, she just wanted him to touch her. She certainly wasn't in love with him, he was just the most amazing fuck any girl could hope for. She also knew she wasn't in love with Chad, but he was good "arm candy," that is to say that he was the proper kind of guy for a girl like her to have as a boyfriend. Kate was considered one of the prettiest girls in school, if not the most pretty, and it just seemed to be proper for the prettiest girl to date the football captain. They were the favorites to be chosen the king and queen of the senior prom. She didn't want to walk down the halls of the high school holding hands with Alan Marshall, not because she didn't like him, but rather that she would rather just fuck him.
Alan wasn't a geek or anything, and many of her friends thought he was very good-looking, but he wasn't a member of the high school elite, and they disdained him. He was on the school newspaper all of his four years in high school, and that crowd had never been considered among the coolest. His famly didn't have less money than hers, but he didn't live on the Hill, and he didn't drive a fancy car. (Chad had a BMW.) He wasn't on student council, nor did he play any sports. On top of all that he was a relative newcomer to the town. Sure, he had lived here since he was ten years old, but many in the in-crowd had been in school together since kindergarten.
"Still," Kate thought as she watched Chad's car move off in the distance, "he can do things to my body that no one else can." So it was decided: she would keep dating Chad, and keep fucking Alan. She would even fuck Chad once in a while to placate him, though she imagined that she would have to keep her eyes closed and her mind focused on Alan to even hope to have an orgasm with Chad. Without even thinking about what she was doing, she went into the house and dialed Alan's cell phone.
Alan told her to come on over to his house, as his mom was going out to a garden club meeting, and his dad wasn't going to be home for hours. "I have a surprise for you when you get here slut.' She almost bolted out the door.
* * *
In the car on the way over her cell phone rang and she reached to the dash to key the phone which was lodged in the hands-free unit. It was her friend Suzy Cormier, and she was calling about Alan and Chad. Suzy was a insidious gossip, and had known that Chad was going over to her house that morning to confront her about Alan.
"So Kate, you and Chad bust up?"
