When two more beers were brought out to the tired researchers, Dr. Simons drank his down in two drafts. His professorial voice and demeanor then miraculously became reminiscent of when Nicasio had heard his lectures both as a graduate and undergraduate student.

"You see, these buttons are called "Santa Elena." That is to the button fanatics and historical collectors," he went on. "They're solid cast and undeniably Spanish. Definitely military."

Nicasio just blinked back at him, too exhausted to reply.

"They're found sporadically around the ruins of St. Augustine and other early outposts on the New World continent the Spanish established."

The professor toyed with them in his palm.

"Spreading out from Hispaniola to Guatemala and Panama, these little beauties have been cataloged quite consistently. Some of the earliest settlements in New Spain have them showing up."

Nicasio strained to see the little orbs.

"It's where they either fell off men's uniforms due to age . . .  or struggle. Most commonly they were ripped off their doublets during some violent assault with the natives, " the professor explained.

Nicasio looked again more critically at the innocent little spheres.

"Yeah," he replied, barely audible. "In their heyday they would have also been gilded . . . right?"

"That's correct, young man.The Spanish didn't think much about camouflage in those times. They were cast shiny gold in color probably in the Netherlands where the Spaniards traded for them and other brass goods."

"Netherlands?"

"This was just before Spain's wars with the Low Countries. I've seen these plain, round buttons turn up in Mexico, too. A few around a dig at La Paz and . . . even a couple on Cedros Island, off Baja." The professor smiled nostalgically. "They're always a great delight when found in the earth strainers by graduate students. They feel like they've discovered diamonds."

Both men smiled.

"Well I'd say you deserve a bravo here professor. These little diamonds have given us a real lead. And it definitely calls for more beer." Nicasio held his two fingers up for the waiter to see.

 The professor responded humbly. "Well . . . maybe just one more."

 The young researcher was again deep in thought. He could not resist the obvious question.

"So, OK professor. Just who, from this window of time . . . wearing Spanish uniforms and light armor . . . have we got poking around down there on the windy bluffs of Big Sur?"

The professor was silent. Himself lost in thought.

"I mean . . . that's a good hundred years before any settlements in Alta California. Only a handful of early explorers could even fit these dates you are giving."

"Indeed, young man. They would have been the entradores . . . the first wave of explorers to the western coast. There's no European settlers on the entire coast at that time."

"I mean the whole California coast was only inhabited by indigenous peoples then. Right?"

"The Esselen, in fact. Yes."

"And they were only a . . ."

"A small tribe. But they inhabited Big Sur for thousands of years."

"And during these dates . . . the West coast was only beginning to be charted. A few Spanish expeditionaries came here only. At least  during the time you suggest."

"Right again, Nicasio."

"So . . . if they were Spanish . . .  it would have to have been some bold expedition . . . assigned through a charter from Mexico City . . . the capital of New Spain. And no doubt authorized by Madrid."

"Yes. And there exist tons of records on that. The Spaniards were so damn bureaucratic"

"Tell me about it," Nicasio said looking down. "The library is where I've spent my life so far."

The professor laughed out loud.

"Alright . . .  so who exactly shall we consider as likely candidates for this?" Nicasio asked. "Sailing up the coast at that time?"

"It's more a question of who could have even made landfall on a coastal expedition round the Bixby bridge site, my boy. There's no safe bay down there. It's just super exposed to the open sea."

Nicasio felt a bit out of his element, as his own research had been confined to two years studying the Englishman Drake's voyage. His landing point was surmised and posited by Nicasio's work to be north of San Francisco Bay by some forty miles.

The professor smiled at this formal challenge. He gulped down the last of his second beer.

Nicasio spoke up before the professor had the chance to continue. 

"First, sir . . . tell me your honest opinion . . . Something it would seem fundamental to our work down there."

"Go on . . ."

"Do you believe these Spanish military guys . . . what ever expedition they were on, were the builders of that tomb . . . or its robbers?"

The professor's expression morphed into a broad grin.

"That's a pivotal question, young man . . . I agree. But the fracture points on the edges of the tomb's marble doorway . . . and the fissures on the sarcophagus lid are relatively recent.  I did some immediate checking on this after my first trip to the tholos. According to a geologist whom I trust at Cal, the atmospheric erosion on those marble break points, both inside and outside . . . are very minimal."

"And that means. . . ?"

"Microscopically seen, those breakage areas just don't yield the corrosive age of centuries."

"Wow! So . . . that begs a new question, professor . . ."

"Yes, Nicasio. I'm now convinced the tomb's breakage and . . . probable entry into the sarcophagus happened no more than just a few decades ago . . . at the very earliest. Possibly even more recently . . . say inside ten or fifteen years ago."

"That's very intriguing . . ."

"Indeed, young man. We must begin believing that the tholos was probably intact until then."

"Wow. Incredible!  It could possibly have been sealed for . . .  four-hundred years if it had truly remained undiscovered there on the cliff."  Nicasio tipped his class up to his mouth and emptied the last drops of beer.

"That's a very likely scenario. Yes.  You see, Nicasio . . . I don't believe our sixteenth century expeditionaries were the robbers of that tomb. I'm quite certain now our Spanish soldiers were the assemblers of it."

Nicasio remained silent a moment, thinking.

"So if that's the case, professor . . . whoever robbed it could still be living in our times."

"Very possibly, yes. And I believe it was constructed under someone's extremely confidential orders . . .  between the dates I suggested. Let's say very close to sixteen-hundred."

"So . . . it was commissioned under the control of either Madrid or Mexico City in those times."

"Exactly. And I also believe someone simply ordered the structure assembled and left it there at the edge of the known world for a profound reason. Sealed ostensibly for all eternity. No doubt part of someone's secret agenda or personal desires."

 "Known World? You mean the UknownWorld, sir."

"Yes . . . that's perhaps more accurate."

The two men smiled.

"This whole thing is just so bizarre professor. It's so out of sync with anything I've studied."

"I would have to agree with that assessment, young man. At least for now."           The professor ran his fingers around the rim of his empty class.

Nicasio was about to respond when he felt his Blackberry vibrate in his pocket. He took it out and was correct in assuming it was Daniela. He quickly got up from the table and walked away as he opened the receiver.

"Hello, Dani?"

"Nicasio? . . . Why haven't you called me all day?I thought you were going to let me know when we were meeting."

He spoke back softly, knowing he was still in the range of the professor.

"Yeah. I know." He moved further into the hallway. "Things just got really busy down here, Dani."

"Where are you?"

"Some . . . Chinese restaurant . . . south of Carmel I think. I'm with. . ."

"Where?"

"Carmel. I'm with the professor. We just finished a day of digging down here. Big Sur."

"Will you be back tonight?"

"Um, well . . . probably not. We've got some work to finish tomorrow and . . ."

"Nicasio? What's going on with us now? It seems like you've just disappeared. Completely!"

"No. No!. . . Nothing like that, Dani. Look . . . I'll explain everything tomorrow night. . . at your house, alright?

"Why not now, Nicasio. I'm listening . . ."

"Yeah, I know Angelina, but . . . I've got to get back to the professor and finish . . ."

There came a single incomprehensible syllable, then an ugly pause.

"Fine, Nicasio. You get back to him. Some things are just too important, I guess."

The line suddenly went dead.

Nicasio contemplated calling her back, but knew it would be futile to try and explain anything over the phone. He just switched his Blackberry off and returned to the table. It would be better to explain things more clearly later. When they were together the following night.

The thought of Daniela growing more angry at that moment, and it all coming at him in his exhausted state, could only lead to a more anxious and unpleasant mood—a place Nicasio did not want to be.  As he returned to the table and sat back down in front of the professor, he was visibly distracted and vacant. He promised himself he must make it all up to Daniela as soon as he returned to the City the following evening.

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