Page 69 - Three Adventures

The Nazarene Foreskin

beneath Saint Elias was probably suspended in olive oil and very
likely held in a state of preservation like a fly in amber. Do you
understand what that means?”
Scoop made his expression noncommittal. If he cared to
editorialize, it would be in the rewrite.
Silk barely paused. “It means the DNA would be intact! I could
patent it, duplicate it, parse out genes to people who would pay
anything to receive them as therapy or implant them in their
offspring. No holy water, no relic, no face on a tortilla has ever had
the earning potential of the Nazarene foreskin! Now do you
understand?”
“Indeed I do. And you have my thanks. Now for my end of the
bargain. Evidently Manur did not associate Mauve with the two of
you or the driver. He probably felt ashamed of himself for leaving
her in distress and wanted to make it up by sending her the
amphora.” He raised his voice. “Ms. Schantz: can you hear me?”
“Yes.” From another room.
“Did you tell Manur where you were staying?”
“No, but my purse opened in the cab and he probably saw the
Oberoi’s room key.” She walked to the door of the sitting room and
looked at him quizzically. Once again she appeared as the apple-
cheeked all-American girl.
“Then that’s where it is. He sent that oil jar to your hotel. He said
that he would see that you got it. But you checked out in a hurry this
morning.”
“Damn!” She stamped her foot.
“Never mind that,” said Sir Aldershot Silk. “Let’s get moving!”

* * * * *

Scoop sat in the back seat of Silk’s car with Mauve. Her proximity
had no effect on him, he noted. He had been inoculated with alcohol
and negative conditioning. He paid more attention to Sir Aldershot
up front with the driver, urging the poor man to ever-greater
acceleration in a city where speeding tickets were issued with a
Kalashnikov. The chicken-or-egg question again came up: did power
corrupt, or did corruptible people seek power? Scoop felt a twinge of
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