Free The Volcano That Changed The World by James W. Mercer Page B

added, “To learn the truth, you must go to the source, as Mark has done by coming here to learn about Santorini.”
    Mark smiled . “I’m impressed: an archeologist who quotes Shakespeare.”
    “He’ s one of my favorite authors, offering many nuggets of wisdom,” Alexia said while taking a sip of wine.
    Mark thought about the wine again and turned back to Elektra, “I don’t recall seeing any vineyards from the air when we landed or while driving here.”
    Elektra smiled knowingly. “Because of our strong winds, Thera vines are not staked like you are probably used to seeing. Instead, they are trained low to the ground in a basket shape to protect them. Look for them next time you drive around.” As she finished her explanation, she took a satisfied sip from her wine glass.
    Setting her glass down, she said, “This wine has a very slight smoke and mineral taste imparted by our volcanic soils. The volcano helped produce almost perfect soil conditions that yield our very distinctive wines.”
    Fo r Mark, a lover of wine, to discuss the dramatic intersection of geology and wine was a real treat. They ordered another bottle once their meals arrived. The food and wine were a delicious combination, the air temperature soothing, the breeze pleasant, the sound of the waves relaxing, and the conversation stimulating. He found himself getting a second wind; he was adjusting to the new time zone with very little effort. His anxiety about the goings-on in Tallahassee receded to the background.
    “It is interesti ng that you are both scientists. I do not spend much time with scientists,” Elektra remarked as they ate. She turned toward Mark, “Based on your background, do you tend to question everything, or are there things you take on faith?”
    Mark thought t his was a strange question. He had heard that Europeans were more open to religious discussions than Americans. It was actually a topic he enjoyed, but that he knew well enough to stay away from in the States. He considered the question for a moment and said, “I tend to question material and take little at face value. Information needs to make sense to me from a scientific or logical point of view.”
    “I nteresting,” Elektra responded. “I grew up in the Greek Orthodox Church where I was taught to accept many things on faith, but now I, too, tend to question what I was taught. How do you explain the difference between faith and science?”
    An other unusual question, thought Mark. As he considered his answer, an annoying fly buzzed around his wine glass. It gave him an idea. “Give me a moment.”
    The fly landed near the edge of the table. In one swift motion, he moved his right hand across the table and grabbed the fly out of the air just as it took off.
    “Impressive,” said Alexia, somewhat sarcastically.
    “Wait, there ’s more,” Mark said, excited that he actually caught the fly.
    There was a pitcher of water on the table. Mark saw it and asked, “Is anyone going to drink the water?”
    They shook their heads.
    He then plunged his right hand with the fly into the pitcher.
    “What are you doing?” Elektra asked , taken aback.
    “I’m drowning the fly ,” Mark said, smiling mischievously.
    “And you are doing this because …?” Alexia probed with cautious interest.
    “To answer Elektra’s question, ” Mark interrupted.
    Alexia raised her eyebrows.
    Mark had the feeling he was not making a very good first impression.
    After several moments, he took his hand out, shook the excess water to the floor, and plopped the motionless fly and beads of water onto the table. Looking up from the fly to Elektra, he asked, “Is the fly dead?”
    Elektra studied the fly. It lay in a small puddle of water not moving. “Yes, I think so.”
    “Watch,” he said and picked up a saltshaker. He liberally sprinkled salt on the fly.
    All three watched intently. Nothing happened. Then one leg began to twitch, then another. Within a few moments, the fly stood