by Chris Fox
Footsteps approached outside the tent. There was a muffled exchange of voices, Yuri’s thickly accented Russian and a softer male voice. It was most likely one of the scientists. Jordan snapped the nylon holster strap over the pistol’s grip and exited the tent into the late-morning glare. Jordan found it so odd that the high desert was both so bright and so cold at the same time. He slid on his sunglasses, giving his eyes a moment to adjust.
Alejandro’s diminutive form stared up at the Russian, expression guiltier than a kid caught red-handed at the cookie jar. Jordan liked the little Latino, maybe because he wore his emotions so openly. There was no subterfuge to the man.
“What can I do for you, Alejandro?” he asked, stepping up to join them. He gave a smile as warm as he could muster, given the constant vigil. That thing could return at any time. He prayed it would come during the day, if it did.
“Oh, Commander. There you are. I am so sorry to disturb you, but I come with troubling news,” Alejandro said, shifting his attention from Yuri.
“Was going to wake you,” Yuri rumbled with a shrug, raising an eyebrow.
“I wasn’t sleeping. It’s six thirty. I’ve been up for two hours,” Jordan replied. Sleep had been elusive since his encounter with that thing. “Why is it you want me to see, Alejandro?”
“The others are gathered below. They are angry and feel you are withholding information from us.”
Jordan considered the situation carefully. It was hardly surprising. The scientists were all intelligent, particularly Smith, though he was both the last to arrive and the only one among them without an advanced degree. It made sense that they were piecing things together, even with the limited information they’d been provided.
What was surprising was Alejandro coming forward about this meeting. The smaller man was loyal to a fault, and breaking ranks seemed out of character. He was always trying to keep the peace, not make waves.
“I appreciate you coming forward, Alejandro. You’re risking the enmity of your peers by doing so,” he finally replied. Jordan glanced away from the man and at the cluster of figures in the pavilion below. They were near enough that he could make out faces but not expressions.
“I know. I regret having to do so, but I wish to contain this situation before it gets out of hand. It is my hope that you will accompany me back to the group to address their concerns. I realize you can tell us very little, but if you give them something, it would calm the others, and work would proceed uninterrupted.”
“And if I don’t, I’ll have a mutiny on my hands; is that it?” Jordan asked, turning his gaze back to Alejandro. The man’s dark face paled.
“I don’t know that it would go that far, but people will not do their best work if they are afraid,” he replied, shifting from foot to foot like a child needing to pee.
What the hell should he do? Jordan couldn’t reveal the entire situation; the Director would flay him alive. But if he let the situation fester, the scientists would drag their heels. Some might even try to leave. If that thing were still out there, they’d be easy prey.
“You did the right thing, Alejandro. Let’s see what we can do to allay their fears,” he said, squeezing the man’s shoulder in what he hoped was a comfortable manner. Alejandro flinched.
“Escort?” Yuri asked, raising an eyebrow over his sunglasses.
“No, I don’t want them to feel more threatened than they already do,” Jordan replied, shaking his head. “I’ll go down with Alejandro and get this sorted out. Keep the men away from the camp for now.”
Yuri nodded. Jordan turned for the camp, setting a brisk pace that Alejandro had trouble matching. The shorter man scurried along, slightly out of breath from the elevation as they closed the gap to the pavilion where the scientists had gathered. It didn’t take them long to spot his approach, and the assembled group closed ranks like a herd of elephants protecting a calf from a lion.
They said nothing as he strode into their midst.
“Alejandro tells me that you’re unhappy with the lack of information provided,” he said, letting his gaze roam the assembled group. Bridget and Roberts dropped their eyes immediately. Sheila held his stare for a moment, but then she, too, looked away. Only Smith met Jordan’s gaze without difficulty.
“I can’t say I agree with him approaching you like this, but Alejandro is right. We want to know just what the hell is happening down in the central chamber. You know a lot more than you’re telling us,” Smith said. Jordan still had a hard time thinking of him as Blair.
“Yes, we do,” Jordan admitted, matter-of-factly and without a hint of either reproach or guilt. “I don’t want to trot out tired clichés, but all information about this dig is need-to-know. We’ve ensured that each of you has the data needed to do your job.”
“What about our health, Jordan? We’re no good to you dead. You know that place is killing Steve,” Dr. Roberts said, taking a step toward the giant soldier.
The scene was comical to Jordan, really. Roberts was a Chihuahua yipping at his heels.
“That is a definite concern,” Jordan said, sighing softly. “My men are spending time down there too, albeit in more limited quantities than Dr. Galk. Be that as it may, we all have a job to do, and you accepted the risks when you signed your contracts. You’re free to leave at any time, and you will keep your retainer, provided you adhere to the NDA you signed. We’re not holding anyone against their will.”
Blair looked shocked, and Jordan understood why. The scientists undoubtedly expected him to be cagey and antagonistic, to imprison them for questioning the situation. Wasn’t that how the plot of every sci-fi movie went, with the evil military arrogantly withholding information?
“So are you going to tell us what you know about the central chamber? Why it’s dangerous?” he asked cautiously. The others perked up as they awaited his answer.
“No, Professor Smith, I am not,” Jordan replied. Smith wasn’t a professor, but Jordan had seen the way the other scientists respected him, so he granted the honorific anyway. “We all answer to someone, and my boss has restricted that information. You have my deepest sympathy, but I cannot tell you anything beyond what you already know,” Jordan said, giving an uncomfortable shrug. “I will say this, though. The faster you complete your work in the central chamber, the less exposure we’ll all have to the dangers that place poses.”
“What about Steve?” Bridget asked. She picked up her coffee, hand trembling. She didn’t meet his gaze. That wasn’t surprising, given the body language she displayed around Smith. There was a lot going on under the surface there.
“It’s my sincere hope that Dr. Galk recovers from his ordeal, but if not, his sacrifice is not just for science but for all of humanity. You’ve been inside. You know this place changes everything,” Jordan said, removing his sunglasses. He exhaled heavily. “I know you want more answers. I wish I could give them, but I can’t. Accept that and stay, or pick up your marbles and go home. Decide. Right now. Am I ordering a transport to take some of you home?”
His gaze raked the lot of them, blue eyes icy. One by one, they dropped their gazes. It seemed the crew weren’t willing to miss this, even though it might cost their lives.
“Excellent, I’m glad we understand each other. Now, I’ll get out of your hair so you can get back to work,” he said, keeping his tone mild. It wouldn’t do to gloat. He needed them to feel like they mattered, not like they were being bullied.
“About that…” Smith broke the silence. “I may have found a way into the rest of the structure.”
Jordan smiled. This man was definitely smarter than the rest of the uppity scientists the Director had assembled. Well, most of them were uppity. Bridget wasn’t half bad. At least she talked to him like a human being.
“Excellent. Let’s get down there. I’ll have an escort prepared.”
“Not just yet,” Smith said, a predatory smile growing. “If you want inside, then I want a little information first.”
“You’r
e on dangerous ground, Smith. You’ve been paid quite handsomely, and I expect you to obey the terms of your contract,” he replied. “If you know how to get inside, then you’re obligated to share it. Otherwise you’re wasting my time.”
“I’m pretty sure I can get us inside. It’s taken a lot of study, but the civilization that built this place left clues, if you know where to look. With Steve’s deteriorating health, I’m the only person within four thousand miles that can solve this,” Smith said, glancing at Bridget. Perhaps for support? Interesting.
“Professor Smith, we’re both professionals. Let’s grant each other professional courtesy. Yes, you’re the only man who can get me inside. Yes, I need to get in as soon as humanly possible and don’t have time to hunt for a replacement to solve this mystery of yours. You clearly want something over and above the enormous compensation we’ve offered. What are you after?”
“We want to know what the hell is going on down in that central chamber. Tell us what’s happening to Steve and whatever else you know about this place, and I’ll open the door,” Smith said.
Jordan paused, reaching for a pot of coffee and filling a blue plastic mug. “Okay.”
“That’s it? Okay?” Smith asked. The archeologists, once again, looked shocked. Jordan suppressed a smile. He wasn’t doing a very good job as the evil military commander keeping the noble scientists in the dark.
“Yeah, that’s it. I’m here because I’m very good at sizing up tactical situations, Professor Smith. You have something I need. You will not give it to me unless I give you something in return. You want answers. Ask.”
“Why didn’t you tell us everything you knew about this place?” Smith asked, without hesitation.
“I know it sounds trite, but we’ve kept you in the dark because the information is on a need-to-know basis. The Director, the man I report to, felt knowing the full extent of the truth might disrupt your focus.”
“Knowing everything about this place is the whole point, isn’t it?” Sheila hurled her words like spears.
“Your employer knowing everything is the point, yes,” Jordan countered. Sheila was tall and straight-backed, with a fire most crusading teachers had long since abandoned. He respected her, though he was almost positive the feeling wasn’t mutual. “You were not the first team on site. We swept this place within twelve hours of it appearing. Our first team found several very curious anomalies. First, this place eats signals, as I’m sure you’re aware by now. There is one spectrum it seems to allow, one that it also seems to be broadcasting. Something we call ELF—”
“Extremely low frequency waves,” Dr. Roberts interrupted, wiping powdered eggs from his beard. “There have been some very interesting experiments involving ELF on human DNA. Apparently, if you have two test tubes within several inches of each other, one with DNA and the other with the correct proteins to synthesize it, the first test tube will use ELF to assemble DNA in the second, despite the fact that they have no direct contact.”
Jordan would have to mention that to the Director. That might be worth following up on. Maybe they could bring in the person who’d conducted that study.
“Very succinctly put, Dr. Roberts. We have no idea what the ELF are used for, but we know two things: First, that they emanate from the central chamber. Second, it would require a very unique power source to continue broadcasting for as long as we believe it has.”
“We already figured that part out. It couldn’t have tunneled out of the earth without some sort of power. That room is full of radiation, isn’t it?” Blair asked, setting his coffee down on the folding table.
“Yes,” Jordan replied. There was no point in denying it, not when they’d clearly puzzled out the truth. “We believe that to be the cause of Dr. Galk’s deteriorating health.”
“Yet you’re sending us in there anyway?” Bridget asked. “Steve could die. We could die.”
“That’s a risk all of you were aware of when you signed your contracts, as was I.”
“Don’t pull that legal bullshit with us,” Sheila snarled, poking him in the chest with an outstretched finger. “You owe us more than that. If that place is dangerous, you should get us hazmat suits, or—”
“They wouldn’t help,” Jordan said, cutting her off with a wave. “This radiation isn’t the most friendly variety. It pierces cloth. It pierces metal. If you’re down there, you’re going to be exposed; it’s that simple. That means some, or maybe even all of us, might die exploring this place. That sacrifice is necessary.”
“Why?” Blair asked.
“Because of who built this place. We know nothing about them, but their technology could exceed our own. This place returned on a very specific date, and if my employer has any idea why it’s above my pay grade. For all we know, it could be a giant bomb. Until we know otherwise, this thing is a threat, and you’ve been hired to help us neutralize that threat,” Jordan explained. The Director would be furious that he was revealing so much of their mandate, but what choice did he have? These people were going to mutiny if he didn’t give them something. Even if they didn’t, Smith could withhold the information he desperately needed.
“He’s right,” Smith said, drawing surprised looks from his colleagues. Only Bridget seemed of like mind, reaching up to squeeze his shoulder. He flinched, just slightly, but enough for Jordan to catch the pain in his eyes. “We have to get inside, have to learn how or why this place was built. That’s worth the risk. Besides, I think I can get us in. We only have to be down there for a few hours more. Hopefully that much exposure will be safe.”
“Excellent, Professor Smith. I’m glad you understand. How do we proceed?”
“How the hell could you possibly know how to get inside? We’re nowhere near understanding their language,” Sheila said, rounding on Smith.
“We don’t need to understand their language. Many of their glyphs are highly detailed pictographs that tell a story. I’ve spent a great deal of time studying the passages in the south corridor, the one Bridget showed me when we first went inside,” Smith explained. His eyes were alight, and the others seemed to pick up on his enthusiasm. “We assume it’s some sort of rite of passage. This wolf-headed goddess raises up champions to help battle whatever the red figures depicted are. In every case, the ritual begins with her grasping their hand. This symbol is repeated over and over.”
“Oh my God,” Sheila said, her oatmeal tumbling to the floor. “The statue in the central chamber. It represents the wolf goddess.”
“Right. So if we grasp the hand, I’m betting we’ll initiate whatever rite of passage we see depicted in the glyphs,” Smith said, grinning now. He was clearly proud of his discovery, and he had a right to be. Jordan was impressed.
He fished his radio from a vest pocket. “Yuri, assemble Alpha. Have them set up all four turrets in the central chamber. Also, send a priority message to HQ and let the Director know that Professor Smith may have found a way into the inner structure.”
11
The Mother's Hand
“I have never been so terrified in my life,” Sheila murmured so faintly Blair could barely make it out. She was crouched behind him in the shelter of the doorway. He couldn’t blame her. The longer he spent in the central chamber, the less he trusted it. That was before Jordan had revealed the truth about the radiation. The wondrous had become the sinister.
The ramp descended into deep shadow, completely swallowed around halfway down. The room was more brightly lit than he’d ever seen it. Fuel for the generator was sparse, and not because of money. Their employers had no lack of that. No, the logistics of carting hundreds of gallons of gasoline made supply an issue.
The stand lamps in each corner fought a losing war with the darkness, but they gave shape to the room. Blair had seen the obelisks with his headlamp, but this was the first time they had any real context. They sat at perfect cardinal directions, the one in the center nearly twice as tall as the others.
Below each obelisk sat a boxy turret that
would have been at home in the movie Aliens, each about waist height with a broad body atop a tripod. They clicked and hummed as they scanned the darkness, a bright red beam shining from each.
“Steve?” he called into the darkness. In spite of the better illumination, there was no sign of the man. Somehow, that made sense.
As he took a step down the ramp, a wave of dizziness overcame him, a flash of something bright robbing him of sight. It was an image, a stern but beautiful woman with silver hair and commanding eyes. She held a golden staff clutched in one hand and wore regalia that wouldn’t have been out of place in Egypt.
“Smith, are you all right?” Blair heard in the distance. He blinked, turning slowly to face Jordan. The man looked…Was that concern?
Blair turned to face Jordan, the soldier filling the space beside him like some movable wall. “Do you feel that? It’s almost like a humming in the air.”
“Is right. Yuri feel it too,” the Russian rumbled, emerging from the shadow of one of the smaller obelisks. He held aloft a small tablet that displayed a fluorescent green graph. “Readings increase forty percent in last hour. If continues, all dead in four hours.”
“Readings?” Blair asked. The dizziness was passing.
“Radiation. This place is getting more dangerous by the minute. Let’s get this done,” the commander said, striding boldly down the ramp without waiting for a reply, not that Blair had one ready. How could one respond to that?
“Blair?” came a raspy voice from the shadows near the southern obelisk. A figure moved in the darkness. Jordan had a pistol out and aimed before Blair even registered the fact that he’d moved. Another gun cocked behind him, probably Yuri’s.