Algorithm - Book 1 - The Medallion

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

They were a couple of miles short of the exit to Pittston when Linda asked, "By the way, how is the DNA sequence analysis coming along?" It was a question off the current topic and designed to ease some of the tension they were both feeling.

The non sequitur took Adam by surprise, especially as they were drawing near to the former site of the Knox Coal Company, and that was all he was thinking about. He rewound his mental VCR, and thought for a moment. "I haven't had a chance to check up on its progress. However, I have my laptop with me and as soon as we find a motel with an internet hookup we can find out. Remember the electron microscopy that George ran?"

"On your medallion, where he found a matrix of carbon-13 in the gold?"

"Yeah. Well, he took some pictures. Can you reach the laptop case behind my seat?"

Linda retrieved the case, and pulled out a sheaf of photographs. She studied the pictures one by one. "My word. These dark spots are carbon-13?"

Adam nodded, and Linda finished. "Looks like there are tons of these spots."

Adam turned on his turn signal. After a few more moments, she asked, "Did you notice that some of these carbon-13 blobs are bigger than others?"

Adam hadn't noticed that. In fact, he had little time to examine or to think about those pictures since the lab explosion.

"Are you sure?  Maybe it's just the way the pictures were taken."

"Maybe."

Adam turned into the Pittston/Port Griffith exit. "Which way?"

"You're asking me?"

There must have been twenty different signs at the bottom of the ramp. Blue interstate numbers, green and white local highways, hotels, restaurants and services stations taking up the rest of the rainbow, pointing in all directions. Adam had been thinking of a place to stay overnight when he noticed a beaten up little white sign which read, 'Port Griffith Mining Museum.'  He glanced at Linda who was smiling and already pointing at the sign.

It took them about a half-hour to reach the older part of town near the river. At one time the neighborhood may have been a center of commerce, sporting thriving warehouses, piers loaded with goods and supplies for the mining industry, and small businesses that flourished along each side street, catering to the throngs of dock workers and entrepreneurs alike. However, as Adam and Linda slowly made their way toward the mining museum, they saw only quiet, deserted streets lined with refuse, windowless warehouses, rotting piers harboring a few worn out fishing and touring boats, and an occasional open liquor store or sandwich shop. They drove on through these disquieting reflections of better days, until at last, they reached the museum. The faded sign over the store-front building read, 'The Port Griffith Mining Museum – A History of Anthracite Mining.' Adam pulled up alongside the curb, as there were plenty of parking spaces. The main entrance was bracketed by two display windows streaked with the type of soot and grime typical of time and neglect. They both clambered out of the Pathfinder and peered through the dusty glass. There were maps outlining the locations of mines throughout the Wilkes-Barre area set up as a backdrop and a variety of mining artifacts strewn about on shelves—a miner's hat complete with battery-operated lamp, shovels, gloves, bits and pieces of coal, each with a label indicating where and when, and drill heads saved from the large machines used to carve out coal. Adam focused on a scale model of a colliery, specifically, the River Slope mine. The model was detailed, even including tiny plastic mine workers entering the shafts, conveyor belts moving coal into a tall, dark breaker building, and railroad cars being loaded. Just beyond the colliery he made out the edge of the mighty Susquehanna. The display appeared as if it hadn't been touched in years, in fact, the dust gave the display a freshly fallen snow look, though the snow was gray and managed to cover everything including the river. As Adam wandered back to the maps, he was startled by a movement. Fingers appeared from behind one of the hanging diagrams, pulling it aside, to reveal the wrinkled face of a bespectacled, gray-haired woman. Despite being small in stature, she exuded a convincing look of self-assurance, the kind of look which he last saw on his second grade teacher, one which he never forgot. With a smile and peering over her pearl white frames, she motioned them to come in.