by Martha Carr
He scanned the search results from the bots. Their algorithms focused on locating dark web pages related to non-Oriceran alien languages and linguistics, with exclusions for certain famous fictional alien languages. Most of the hits were garbage from troll sites or raving conspiracy nuts, but one result caught his eye.
PROJECT NEPHILIM SUMMARY AND BUDGETARY ALLOTMENTS.
Peyton chewed on his lip. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound ominous. Let’s see where you’re coming from, Project Nephilim.”
He typed in a few commands. “Department of Defense server, huh? Why am I not surprised? Of course it is.”
Peyton worked his jaw for a moment. Poking around in a DOD server might bring some heat…but only if he got caught. The spider had already port-scanned for him. For a military server, they had a lot of holes.
I should write my congressman to complain about this sad display.
He spent the next few minutes digging into the Project Nephilim server while making sure to cover his tracks and maintain a healthy number of proxy servers between the DOD and his computer.
Yeah, I bet Randy’s hired guns couldn’t accomplish that on their best day.
“Let’s see how you’re wasting our taxpayer dollars.”
Peyton downloaded every document he could get his hands on. He could browse them at his leisure later.
“I’m too damn good at this. It’s almost not fair.”
Osiris meowed in response.
“Yeah, glad you agree.”
After twenty minutes, an alarm chimed on his computer.
“Shit, what now? Randy’s boys coming back at me?”
Nope. It was someone at the DOD. Someone was backtracking his connection through his proxy servers, but it would be another fifteen minutes before he had all the files.
“Okay, so they have a few good IT guys after all. Come on, download faster, damn it.”
Lily walked up behind him, a spoon dangling from her mouth and the last of the ice cream in her hands. “What’s happening?”
“Shit’s breaking out all over.”
Several more proxy servers fell to the trace despite Peyton’s redirection, but he still needed twelve minutes. The counter-hacker was closing on him far too swiftly.
“Faster, faster, faster. I can do this.”
Peyton terminated all other running CPU processes except the downloads and killed all other bandwidth usage in the warehouse network.
The trace had made it through eighty percent of his proxy servers with ten minutes still required.
Peyton gritted his teeth. “Fuck you, DOD White Hat. You didn’t win. I still got a bunch of files, and you didn’t identify me.” He terminated the connection with only two proxy servers between him and detection.
Lily leaned over and studied the screen. “That was close, wasn’t it?”
“Too close. Now let’s see what we got. I hope it’s something good and not a bunch of boring spreadsheets.”
“Shay, you need to see this right now,” Peyton yelled from the office.
The tomb raider grumbled, “This better not be some slasher movie that’s emotionally scared you. If you don’t want to see it, stay on the safe sites.”
Peyton sighed. “It’s nothing like that. I pulled a bunch of files off a DOD server when I was looking into your symbols. I couldn’t get them all without being caught, but I still managed a good haul.”
“Okay, now you’ve got my attention. Find anything interesting?”
“He’s been very busy,” nodded Lily.
Peyton nodded and grinned, then stood and motioned to the chair. “I just spent a couple of hours going through the world’s most boring encoded budget spreadsheets.” He made a face. “The government sure loves their budgets.”
“That doesn’t sound interesting, so why I am here?”
“Yeah, but then I found a summary document for the project all the budget crap’s related to.” He pointed to the screen. “Check this out.”
The tomb raider sat and started reading aloud. “Existing human- and machine-intelligence-based translation resources are insufficient to translate the ideographs identified on the stone. Extensive investigation and cross-referencing have confirmed that the symbols have no links to any extant or extinct Earth-based writing system, either ideographic or phonographic in nature.”
An image of a stone appeared beneath the first few sentences. The shape looked different than the stone in Mexico or Michigan, but many of the symbols matched.
“That’s three of them,” she murmured to herself.
“Three stones?” Lily asked.
“Yep. This one, the one I found, and one the Professor wants me to find.”
“Oh,” said Peyton.
Shay continued reading. “Our consultations with Oriceran experts confirm the symbols have no links to any extant or extinct Oriceran-based writing system, either purely representational or related to extra-dimensional or so-called magical processes.” Shay blinked and looked up. “Holy shit.”
Peyton bobbed his head. “Keep reading. It gets better.”
“Spectrographic inspection of the relevant recovered artifacts confirms isotopic content that is not consistent with a terrestrial origin. Metallurgical and magical analysis lends further support to a non-terrestrial origin.
“In coordination with the findings of PROJECT HOUDINI, our recommendation is to apply additional resources to the translation and decoding of the symbols. Without better knowledge of the semantics of the symbols, we are unable at this time to establish if this likely-extraterrestrial writing is linked to a civilization or group of civilizations that may present a possible threat to the safety of Earth and the territorial integrity and safety of the United States.”
Shay shook her head and looked up at Peyton. “That’s pretty heavy-duty stuff.”
Peyton bounced on his toes a few times. “That’s the government basically admitting they have alien writing and don’t have a damned clue what it means.”
“Sounds like it, but what’s Project Houdini?”
The researcher shrugged. “No clue. I can’t find a reference to it in any of the other documents. I haven’t checked online. Whatever it is, it’s locked down pretty tight. I think I got really lucky on this one. Some guy just left a few ports open when they shouldn’t have.”
Shay rubbed her chin. “At a minimum, this shit proves I’m not crazy. That stone is alien.”
“This is weird magic, even for me,” said Lily.
Peyton sighed. “Damn it.”
“What’s wrong? This is a good catch! You did a great job.”
He shook his head. “But it also proves the government can’t translate it, and they might be throwing millions of dollars at it. What hope do we have?”
“Don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see. I’m thinking we’re gonna have to find out more about this shit sooner rather than later.” She laughed. “Guess you stumbled onto something big by spotting that shit about the missing tomb raider.”
Peyton looked stunned. “I did, didn’t I? I don’t know how I feel about that.”
“Way to go, Peyton.” Lily patted him on the back.
They really are getting to be like family, thought Shay.
Her phone rang.
“Speak of the Devil,” she murmured.
Peyton looked confused. “Huh? Is it the dead tomb raider?”
“Nope.” Shay held up a hand. “What’s up, Professor?”
“You need to come to the pub,” he replied.
“Sure, I can meet you tomorrow.”
“No. Now.”
Shay blinked. “What?”
Smite-Williams took a deep breath before continuing, “You need to come right now. It’s about the job. Make sure you come alone. If you don’t come tonight, I’ll be forced to make other arrangements.”
Shay pushed into the pub and marched straight toward the Professor’s booth, a frown on her face. She didn’t like being ordered around, but at the same time, she had
no doubt that his call had something to do with the alien language she was investigating.
Given how spooked he seemed, she didn’t think it wise to question it too much.
She stopped a few yards from the table. The Professor had told her to come alone, but he wasn’t alone. A tall silver-haired Light Elf sat beside Smite-Williams with a weary expression on his face.
“Should I come back?” Shay inquired, keeping her attention on the elf.
The Professor nodded to a seat. “Correk has an interest in the object I want you to recover, so I asked him to come to this meeting.”
“And who is Correk, exactly—other than an elf?”
“You don’t need that information at this time.”
Shay sighed and rolled her eyes. “You know what? In the spirit of being a good example of sharing, and proving I’m on the ball here, I’m gonna give you some more information, even though you’re being…difficult.”
The Professor nodded. “And what information are you going to give me, Miz Carson?”
“The government has one of the stones. They know it’s extraterrestrial, but they can’t translate it. They’ve consulted Oriceran experts and human experts.”
An uncomfortable look spread over Correk’s face, and the elf cleared his throat. “I’m curious about something.”
Shay stared at him. “And what’s that?”
“How did you know about all of this to begin with?” The elf nodded at the Professor. “He mentioned you’d already been investigating this before he offered you the job.”
Shay shot Correk a grin. “I’m very resourceful, and I’m interested in ancient history. This is a big deal. Hell, it’s as big a deal as the truth about Oriceran coming out. Another planet with intelligent beings, and they’ve visited us in the past.”
Correk let out a quiet sigh. “It is at that.”
The tomb raider narrowed her eyes. “You’re not interested in it for the language or history, though, are you?”
The elf shook his head. “No.”
“Then why are you interested in it?”
“I have my reasons.”
“And they are?”
“You don’t need to know.”
Shay’s gaze ticked over to the Professor. “You have a Light Elf here. That makes me think it’s not just some stone with writing. It’s obviously got some magical power.”
She wasn’t ready to reveal she had a stone. The Professor and Correk were less than forthcoming, so the tomb raider didn’t see any advantage in being any more helpful than she’d already been.
The Professor sighed. “I can assure you, Miz Carson, the only danger you’ll face from that stone is in the process of recovering it.” The Professor and Correk shared a glance. “And I’m willing to double your fee for its recovery.”
“Huh. Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?”
The Professor smiled and picked up his previously-neglected glass of beer. “Now that’s what I wanted to hear.”
24
Shay surveyed the gathered gear on several tables in Warehouse Three. Pistols, grenades, underwater flares, amphibious needle guns, more than a few jammers, both aerial and aquatic drones, and of course, her cold-weather diving gear. It was almost everything she’d need for a raid where she wasn’t expecting a fight.
Then again, I wasn’t expecting a fight in Antarctica either.
“You two did a good job of getting my equipment ready. A damned good job.”
Peyton smiled. “Lily did a lot of the smaller arms. You don’t need a disguise or fake identity this time?” His gaze drifted longingly to the wall concealing the entrance to the Annex. “I’m sure we could find something in there that will work.”
“Nope. This is a straightforward raid, and if I do it right I won’t even be dealing with anyone other than to drop off my rental car and get on the plane. I’m only hoping I don’t get in a firefight under the lake.”
Lily patted the long black needle gun. “This baby has plenty of ammo.”
“You have to understand, fighting underwater always sucks.”
“Why? As long as you have the right weapon it’s not a big deal, right?” asked Peyton.
Shay shook her head. “Fighting is always about both offense and defense. The thing about fighting underwater is that you don’t have as much mobility, and there are issues with defense. Sometimes the best way not to die is to not be somewhere.”
“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever get in a fight underwater,” said Lily.
She is like a little sponge, soaking in every bit of information around her. Shay’s phone came to life, and she pulled it out, expecting the Professor. Instead, it was Brownstone.
What does he want?
Shay searched her mind, trying to figure out if the bounty hunter had said he was going to call her. Maybe he’d pissed off some other international gang and needed to destroy their local headquarters.
She snickered. “What’s up, Brownstone?” She held up her finger to her lips and looked at Lily.
“Alison has another Parents’ Weekend, and I was wondering if you were going to go. It’s this weekend, and she’d really like it if her Aunt Shay could be there.”
Shay was still dealing with her feelings about being a part of this strange extended family, but she did like Alison. They’d bonded more during their recent time together.
If she hit Lake Michigan the following afternoon and recovered the stone, she could easily make it back in time for a weekend trip to Virginia.
Shay pondered the logistics for a moment. “What’s your plan for the Parents’ Weekend? You gonna take Alison on a barbeque tour of Virginia?”
Brownstone grunted. “Nope. She wants to experience a Broadway show, so I’m taking her to Wicked in New York.”
“As in ‘New York City?’”
“Yeah. There’s only one Broadway, right?”
The tomb raider’s stomach tightened. “Oh, that sounds cool, but I’ve got a job coming up, though, so you’ll have to tell her I’m sorry. Maybe I can come during the next Parents’ Weekend.”
“Okay, no problem. Just thought I would ask.”
“Thanks for asking, Brownstone. I appreciate it.”
Shay ended the call and sighed.
Peyton stared at her.
“It’s that school again, isn’t it?” asked Lily, suspicious.
“This time, nothing about you. What?” Shay snapped. She didn’t need Peyton seeing her in anything remotely resembling a vulnerable state.
“The Professor all but handed you the location of the stone.” Peyton shrugged. “It’ll probably take you longer to fly there and back than it will to recover it.”
“Do you have a point, or are you just trying to annoy me?”
“That call was about Brownstone asking you to go somewhere this weekend, right?”
Shay shrugged. “He’s taking Alison to New York. He wanted me to come along. So?”
“I don’t get why you lied about being able to go,” said Lily.
“Didn’t you hear me? New York! It’s too risky for me to go.”
Peyton shook his head. “I thought you weren’t worried? You told me not to worry.”
Shay pointed to him and then her. “You were exposed on the East Coast for like five seconds in the middle of the night. I stole from an underworld courier and got in a gun battle in a subway, and, for that matter, more people are interested in seeing me dead in general. It’s just too dangerous for me to go showing my face around NYC without a good reason.”
“That’s a lot of new information to take in,” said Lily.
“Why didn’t you tell him the truth, then?” asked Peyton.
“Brownstone doesn’t need to need to know all my business. It’s also why I’ve held back on telling him much about you or Lily.” Shay shook her head. “Whatever. We don’t have time to worry about taking a kid to a musical. I need to get ready to go to Lake Michigan.”
Peyton shrugged. “Your choice.
I’m going to go and see if I can find that missing amphibious jammer I mentioned yesterday.”
“Good plan.”
Shay sighed again once Peyton disappeared into the shelves with an annoying look on his face. Lily gave her a reassuring shrug like only a teenager can do and followed Peyton into the shelves.
In truth, she wanted to go to New York and spend time with both Brownstone and Alison. She wanted to tell him…
She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to tell him. Maybe that she thought he did good work?
The tomb raider gagged at the thought. She didn’t get what it was about the man that invaded her mind and refused to leave. She’d met plenty of tough and impressive people in her life, not to mention plenty of stubborn ones.
Introspection wasn’t one of Shay’s strong suits. Most of her life had been dedicated to professional killing. Hits were about action and reaction, not how she felt about the jobs. Feelings got in the way of being a good killer.
Tomb raids weren’t all that psychological either. A well-executed tomb raid required research, bravery, and a reliable gun or two, not self-reflection. She’d managed to live her life without having to look into what motivated her—other than a desire to be the best, whether it was at killing or tomb raiding.
With Brownstone, though, she wanted to understand why she felt the way she did. She needed to understand. If she understood why she might manage to exert better control.
She’d done many things that didn’t make sense to her. Things that gave her no advantage or reward. She’d never lived her life that way before.
Even when she’d saved Peyton she’d wanted an assistant out of it. She was willing to call him a friend now, but that didn’t change her initial self-serving motivation.
In contrast, Shay had helped Brownstone attack the Harriken and kill Alison’s father. She’d protected the girl and murdered two mercenaries who were targeting her.
Sure, she’d received money for the tomb raid in Mexico that had helped convince the Professor to give up the protective artifact, but it wasn’t like Brownstone had paid her for any of the other things. She’d chosen to help—despite it being dangerous and stupid if she thought about it for too long.