“Just like you,” Halima said. “What are alpha waves?”
“They are the waves that our brains produce when we close our eyes and relax. Theta waves occur when we fall into a deep sleep.”
Halima stopped reading from her book and looked up. “What about Bukya? Does his brain produce waves? What about other animals?”
“Yes. Alpha and theta waves are found in every biological system, from bacteria to humans.”
“That’s why Mr. Quinn was so concerned.” Halima understood the gravity of what Anita had just told her. “Our brain waves are clashing with the brain waves of the earth.”
Anita nodded. “Well put. Whoever is disrupting the field is causing all the trouble. Mr. Quinn said that a brotherhood stopped this once before. The question is, how did they do it?”
“This might help,” Halima said. “Do you remember when Mr. Quinn told us that the brotherhood used a device to send a signal?” Anita’s attention was piqued; she watched Halima look through volume eight of Sebastian’s parents’ autobiography. “And remember when I was looking for information about that man named Sumsari Baltik? Well, it turns out that he spent a lot of time with Mr. Quinn’s mother and father. Listen to what they wrote.” Halima began to read.
Three years ago, Sumsari came to us a war-torn man. The ravages of combat had taken an immeasurable toll on him. Life here on the Isle of Man seems to provide him with some relief from his memories of the loss of life he witnessed while he was in the city of Kiev. We wish Sebastian were here to meet him, but his studies with Makesh prevent him from returning home.
“Who is Makesh?” Halima asked. When Anita shook her head, she continued to read.
Sumsari has devoured all the books and documents we have given him about the spiritual nature of the world around us. It is a rare evening that passes in which we do not converse for hours about these subjects and more. While Sumsari is not certain what he is searching for, he is venturing into sacred territory at a blistering pace. He is certain that sound, music, and resonance hold some kind of key and that his pursuits are going to lead him to some startling discovery, though he doesn’t know what that is. His past as a piano and guitar player has provided him with a starting base of understanding. Sumsari spends countless hours on the piano in our study, and, based on our observations of him, we believe that he is one of those few people whose brains perceive music as colors and geometric shapes. We made a big decision today to give Sumsari access to certain pages of the Enuntiatio de Tutela in hopes that it will help guide and advance his learning.
A few weeks ago, Sumsari showed us a simple-looking item that he crafted out of two old brass urns he purchased in town. It looked like a Christmas tree ornament. He said his inspiration for it is a Helmholtz resonator, which he read about in one of the books from the library.
“Stop,” Anita interrupted. “What’s a Helmholtz resonator?”
“Not sure,” Halima replied. “But Hypatia will know.” Halima turned and activated the librarian of the Alexandria Room. “Finding Helmholtz resonator,” said a female voice. A moment later, an image of a brass ball with openings on opposite sides was projected above the table.
Hypatia’s voice continued: “In 1850, Herman von Helmholtz created this device to isolate singular frequencies and pitches in complex musical systems. The device demonstrated the phenomenon of air resonance in a cavity or closed space.”
“Keep reading,” Anita requested.
As the image continued to hover over the table, Halima picked up where she left off.
Sumsari indicated that he had altered the design a bit. He struck the end of a tuning fork and placed it near the larger of the two openings. The resonator did not simply increase the sound coming from the tuning fork by a fractional amount, it amplified the sound exponentially. Whatever alterations he had made, they were strikingly evident. As Sumsari moved the fork back and forth across the opening, the harmonic wavered. But when the fork was held at the perfect position and distance from the opening, the resonator performed flawlessly and fully. We didn’t immediately tell him, but the harmonic being emitted was that of the Rokmar.
“That’s the symbol that Mr. Quinn spoke about,” Anita said. “He called it the Rokmar.”
“Yes, the one they gave to the ruler of Atlantis.” Halima read on.
Somehow he gained an understanding of one of the secret Satrayian symbols and had duplicated the harmonic associated with the legendary Brahmastra device.
This is the main reason we are going to make the Enuntiatio de Tutela available to Sumsari. Anyone with such knowledge and a device like the one Sumsari crafted would be able to activate any of the sonorous lines around the world. We closely observed Sumsari for several weeks after he showed us his resonator. We needed to know his heart—we needed to know if and how he intended to use his wizardly amplifier, which we are now calling the Sumsari resonator.
“See,” Halima said excitedly, “doesn’t this remind you of what Mr. Quinn said about how the old brotherhood destroyed the pyramid on Atlantis?”
“My father used the word implode,” Anita said. “Is there any more?”
“Yeah, but I need to find it.” Halima quickly flipped forward through the pages. “Okay, here it is.”
Two months ago, we took Sumsari to Salisbury Cathedral so that he could hear what kind of sound his device could produce inside this acoustic treasure.
Anita recalled the vision she had had in the Arcis Chamber a few days ago, when Mr. Quinn had taught her and Halima the technique of Reflecting. The cathedral in her vision was the one in the city of Salisbury. Anita turned her attention back to what Halima was reading.
We were granted access to the cathedral when it was empty. We took Sumsari to the center of the church, where he struck his fork and activated his resonator. He was not disappointed by what he heard. It was then that we explained more about what he had discovered and introduced Sumsari to the workings of the sonorous lines. We explained to him how those major and minor lines connect the entire surface of the earth in a complex grid. We explained that the sonorous lines are very much like the nervous systems in our bodies. There are major nerves within the spine that are connected to secondary nerves that extend to all the other parts of the body. Signals are constantly being sent back and forth. And so it is with the earth. There is no place on earth that is not connected to another place on earth. We explained to him that just like an acupuncturist uses meridian points on the skin to provoke a reaction in the body, certain points along the major sonorous lines do the same to the earth.
We then took a chance and took Sumsari to the Altar of the Bluestones. We waited until the witching hour, when, again, we had him strike his tuning fork to vitalize his resonator. Instantly, he experienced all that we had explained to him. He witnessed firsthand the power of the Rokmar and the effect it had on one of the major sonorous lines of the world. The standing wave that was created rocked the entire site. Sumsari understood the true nature of what he had created.
We never saw the device after that day; he told us that a device such as that should be concealed and only used at the most urgent of times. We were relieved that Sumsari had arrived at that conclusion on his own. He stayed with us for a few more months and then left, telling us he was headed to Washington, D.C.
Halima stopped reading. She turned the page. “That’s it,” she said, looking up at Anita. “That’s all they wrote about Sumsari, at least in this volume.”
“I wonder if his resonator could stop what’s going on in the world now,” Anita mused. “Just like what the brotherhood did with the device in Atlantis. As Sumsari said, this is certainly the most urgent of times.”
“We would have to figure out where the Altar of the Bluestones is,” Halima said.
“First things first,” Anita said. “Where did you say you found Sumsari’s chain and tag?”
Halima’s eyes widened. She hopped out of her chair. “Buried in the tunnel under the old armory!”
Anita knelt down and set the lantern next to the shallow hole. “Let’s dig deeper. Maybe there is something more down here.”
“Like the resonator,” Halima said with excitement.
They dug together with the pick and the shovel. It did not take long before they struck something hard. They set their tools aside and used their hands to clear more dirt from the hole. They pulled out a large, flat stone the size of a dinner plate. “There’s something written on it,” Anita said.
Halima brushed more dirt off the stone and read the message:
THE CATHEDRAL KNOWS
THAT THOSE WHO HAVE IT
CANNOT SELL IT,
THAT THOSE WHO WANT IT
CANNOT BUY IT,
AND THAT WHICH SHOWS IT
CANNOT HIDE it
“What does that mean?” Halima asked, as she read it again.
“It’s a riddle,” Anita said. “And I’m sure it has something to do with the resonator device.”
“We need to talk to Mr. Quinn,” Halima said. “He’ll know the answer.”
“Mr. Quinn’s gone again, and I don’t know when he’ll be back. My father might know, but we can’t wait. People are suffering now. I have to go and find the resonator and figure out where the Altar of the Bluestones is.”
“I’m going, too,” Halima announced.
“No, you’re not,” Anita said. “One of us leaving is going to cause enough trouble.”
“Well, you can’t go alone.”
Anita thought for a moment and replied, “I won’t be alone.”
46
There are words that you will not like to hear. We are going to say them anyway because we love you.
—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA
CAIRO, 9:23 A.M. LOCAL TIME, MARCH 26, 2070
“Nadine and I were surprised that you decided to come visit us so soon,” Madu said. “Have your daughter and Logan recovered from the attack at the commemoration?”
“Not entirely,” Mr. Perrot said. “They are still preoccupied by many unanswered questions.”
“Well, I’m happy you are here and hope you stay for a while. Nadine is at home preparing dinner for us.”
The details of Logan’s candle vision and Mr. Quinn’s suggestion to keep an eye on the man who had taught Logan’s father the Queen’s Gambit were enough to persuade Mr. Perrot to visit Madu and Nadine as soon as possible. Madu had picked him up at the Cairo airport, and they were heading to their home in the residential district known as Garden City. Mr. Perrot looked out the window of Madu’s little electric-powered red car at the numerous buildings that had been constructed after the Great Disruption. The streets were crowded with vehicles, bikes, and pedestrians. And on just about every street corner, vendors were selling food or souvenirs to tourists and locals alike.
“You said you went back to Cairo after the splintering of the council?” Mr. Perrot asked.
“We did at first,” Madu replied. “As you know, after my experience with the blue orb, I was consumed with trying to solve the mystery of the pyramids. It was why I agreed to become a member of the original Council of Satraya. I hoped that the other finders might provide additional insights to assist me in my quest. But I soon realized that the others had their own questions about the orb and the Chronicles. Camden, Deya, and Fendral knew as much as I did, which at the time was not much.”
“Yes,” Mr. Perrot said. “We were all flying blind to some degree back then. Did you speak much to Fendral?”
“A little at first. But it didn’t take long for me to realize I didn’t have much in common with him. I’m not sure any of us did. Based on what you told me about his son, I wonder if those men who interrupted the commemoration are somehow linked to the Hitchlordses?”
“Yes,” Mr. Perrot said. “Linked by the man who claims to be Giovanni Rast. Logan found a note written by his father indicating that Fendral actually stole Giovanni’s set of the Chronicles from him and presented it as his own discovery. Camden’s learning of Fendral’s crime contributed to the Council’s splintering. But based on the information in the note, we all assumed that Giovanni Rast was dead. It seems now that assumption was wrong.”
“So it does,” Madu said, nodding. “After the splintering, Nadine and I returned to Cairo. We followed Camden’s suggestion and changed our identities. I subsequently donated the Chronicles to the museum, where I thought they would best serve the people of Egypt during the Rising. I continued to study the pyramids, working tirelessly to unearth the secret of free energy that I knew was possible from my experience with the blue orb. At first, my work progressed very quickly. The plans for my device were coalescing. But there were certain questions that I just couldn’t answer. Time passed, and I wasn’t making any headway. After twenty years, my plans were still incomplete. I could see that my obsession had put a tremendous strain on Nadine, who was working at a local bank to make ends meet. One day, she came home and suggested that perhaps I could find the answers I needed elsewhere in the world. She had met a man who she thought might fund my work.”
“Rigel Wright.”
Madu nodded. “I showed Rigel a portion of my plans and explained what my work could eventually do for humanity. It didn’t take long for him to agree to back my work financially. He even supported my intention to provide the results to the world for free.”
“And you believed him?” Mr. Perrot asked. “It is unusual for a man with such power and wealth to do anything without the prospect of gaining something.”
“I had to. I couldn’t bear to see Nadine under such stress any longer, and I wasn’t yet ready to give up my pursuit.”
“Is it possible that Rigel might have stolen your plans?”
Madu thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. I never actually gave my plans to Rigel. I only showed him a portion of them and explained a few of the basic concepts. Why do you ask?”
“Logan and Valerie are on their way to the Azores to investigate what they believe is a newly constructed energy extraction device,” Mr. Perrot said. “They believe that whoever constructed it is behind the gas well explosions and that the device is also causing the earthquakes around the world.”
“So that’s why Rigel was so dismissive when Nadine and I talked to him at the commemoration and asked him to continue funding my work in spite of the losses I suffered at Teotihuacán,” Madu said. “He intimated that my work is obsolete.” Madu laughed mirthlessly. “And you think that that device is based on my plans? Why would Rigel fund my work in Mexico if he secretly was constructing his own device?”
“We don’t know,” Mr. Perrot said. “But one reason might have been to keep you distracted.”
Madu sighed. “People may be suffering because of my work,” he murmured.
Mr. Perrot shook his head. “Not because of you, my friend. Because of those who would use your work for ill.” He paused. “Tell me more about what happened after Rigel initially backed your exploration.”
“As a result of my partnership with Rigel, Nadine and I spent the next fifteen years traveling around the world to other pyramids. We spent time in China, Europe, India. But Teotihuacán is where my research progressed most. Until the destruction of the Moon Pyramid, that is. I sensed we were close to solving a very profound mystery.”
“So did I,” Mr. Perrot said warmly. “So did I.”
“Still, I feel reinvigorated,” Madu said.
“The information that you and Logan helped me uncover has given me valuable insight into the original vision I had when I first found the books and the blue orb took me to that secret chamber. I realize now that the waves of energy that I saw emanating from the center of the room were not radioactivity but sound.” Madu slowed the car and pointed toward a redbrick building. “The Cairo Museum is open again. This is where the Chronicles were kept before they were stolen.”
“Yes,” Mr. Perrot said, looking at a long line of people waiting to enter.
“Had I known of Simon’s desire to possess them, I would never have donated them in the first place,” Madu said regretfully.
“You could not have known what Simon would become.”
“No, I suppose not. But I always had reservations about his father, and the apple does not fall far from the tree. Do you know why he wants the books so badly?”
Mr. Perrot did know the answer to Madu’s question, but he thought it best not to open that door. “No one can fully understand the pursuits of madmen,” he said.
“Deya knew, didn’t she?” Madu reflected. “She always seemed to know things. She never let those books out of her sight.”
A black vehicle sped by, narrowly missing a group of bikers, who yelled out expletives. Madu pointed toward a plaza with food stands and vendors and a nearly fifty-meter-tall obelisk. “That is Tahrir Square,” he said. “That is where the Egyptian Spring started fifty years ago. It was tragically cut short by the Great Disruption, which opened the door to the rise of the twelve ruthless Khufus. The obelisk was erected to remind the citizens of Egypt not to take for granted the sacrifices of those who helped create a free Egypt.”
“Then your name should be at the very top,” Mr. Perrot said. “A new-generation pharaoh.” They both laughed.
Journey Through the Mirrors Page 31