The Sam Reilly Collection Volume 2

by Christopher Cartwright

  Zara asked, “What does it say?”

  Sam said, “I don’t know. It can take hours to decipher a single word in the ancient language. I’ll need my notepad computer. It has all known shapes and images. We’ll have to retrieve it before I can make much sense out of any of it.”

  He lowered his eyes and examined the rest of the room in silence. The king’s chamber had no sarcophagus. Perhaps the king was still alive before the pyramid had been flooded? Instead, a single pedestal stood at the center. On its top a small piece of glass or transparent stone stood glistening. It appeared ornamental and yet valuable, like an orb. It stuck out of the pedestal, with some sort of metallic material, like brass only more golden, blocked the surrounding sides and directed the light, reminding him of a microscope lens. Sam shined his torch at it. The light scattered throughout the small chamber like a prism.

  At the top of the brass-like sidings, where the clear orb stood proudly were a series of markings, dividing the circle into fifty-eight equal portions. The first one was numbered with the Roman symbol for 43 and the very last one was 100.

  Zara said, “At least we know we’re in the right place.”

  Sam met her gaze, his eyes wide. “What makes you so certain?”

  “The book of Nostradamus held the final fifty-eight quatrains. This device is somehow making reference to it. The question is, how do we use it?”

  Sam tried to rotate the pedestal. The device didn’t move. He tried harder, but it may as well have been bolted to the stone flooring. Studying the markings in the brass, he tried to move the brass itself without any more success. He then moved along to the lower section of the pedestal where a series of pictographs surrounded a single, beveled dial of brass, shaped like a spear.

  Tom was the first to recognize the image. “That’s a looking glass!”

  “A what?” Zara asked.

  Sam stepped closer to the pedestal and looked directly at the flawless orb. It was currently opaque, but he hoped to change that. “Tom found the first of the looking glasses in a pyramid nearly 500 feet below the Gulf of Mexico. The stone orb is harder than diamond and nearly two hundred times more translucent, meaning light and sound can travel through it much further and faster than any other known material on earth.”

  Zara followed him and examined the stone. “Okay, so what’s its purpose?”

  “To see other parts of the world,” Sam said. “Think of an ancient version of Facetime or Skype, before the internet.”

  She smiled, without trying to hide her skepticism. “That’s great. So, where are we looking?”

  Sam rotated the dial shaped like a warrior’s spear, waited, and then grinned like he’d just won the final hand of cards. “Here.”

  She placed her eye up to the orb as though she were looking through the lens of a microscope. The opacity of the orb had dissipated, giving way to very clear picture. “It’s quite dark, but looks like there’s another chamber below us?”

  “You’re right, but it’s not below us.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No. The chamber you’re looking at is mostly from a completely different pyramid, possibly hundreds or even thousands of miles away.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she said. “It’s not possible.”

  “It is and what’s more, I’ll prove it to you.”

  Sam bent forward until his eye was almost resting on the orb. He then carefully rotated the dial until he heard the strange contraption clicked solidly into place. He stared at the image. It looked like somewhere deep in the ocean. The chamber glowed with fluorescence as though someone held a powerful ultraviolet black light. Under normal conditions, UV radiation is invisible to the human eye, but illuminating certain materials with UV radiation causes the emission of visible light, causing these substances to glow with various colors. There were rich purples, greens and blues that all glowed in the chamber giving it the impression of being filled with brilliant gem stones.

  Zara smiled as she looked through the orb. “Okay, that one’s pretty. But I’m still not convinced we’re looking at somewhere hundreds of miles away.”

  Sam rotated the dial again and the image changed to another darkened and empty chamber. The walls were made of blocks of limestone.

  Sam asked, “Convinced?”

  “No. These are all still pictures. This device might simply be an ancient version of a kaleidoscope?”

  Sam took in a deep breath, and rotated the dial once more. The next vision depicted a top down view of a large chamber. It was almost identical to the king’s chamber they were standing in, but with two exceptions. One, the room was at least ten times larger. And two, there were people working inside. Constructing something.

  “Tell me what you see here, and then let me know how they managed such a depiction with a kaleidoscope.”

  Zara placed her eye right up to it and swore.

  She said, “They’re tribal people. Quite dark skinned. Their faces are painted blue. They’re almost completely naked, with the exception of some kind of loincloth. Both women and men are bare breasted. And all of them are working vigorously to finish building the chamber.”

  “Their faces are blue?” Sam asked. “Like the Tuareg nomads whose faces are tainted with dye that turns them blue?”

  “Similar, but these people look very different than any Tuareg I’ve ever met. Their facial features aren’t at all like that. Angular, with strong jawlines. They could be a distant relative perhaps, but I doubt it. They’re taller, too. The women are maybe six foot while the men are closer to six foot, four.”

  “What else do you see?”

  “They all look focused. Almost mesmerized by their desire to perform their task. They’re working hard and constantly. No one is whipping them. There’s no one guiding them. But like a group of ants, they are all simply taking part in completing their individual tasks so that the main project is completed.”

  “They’re working as a collective!” Sam said. “No one is giving or taking orders. They are all simply doing what they have been programed to do. They are working robotically as one.”

  Zara looked through the glass and back at him. “Do you think they’re slaves?”

  “It’s possible. The Master Builders have been known to use slaves before. They are also known to be perceived as Gods, and by standards of two or three thousand years ago, they certainly would have appeared as Gods by their ability to build things. I’ve never even considered the fact they might still be alive, and trying to rebuild another pyramid.”

  “So you think this is a live image, not an ancient record?”

  “We've encountered these looking glass devices before, and they always seem to be giving us views from far away, not long ago,” replied Sam.

  Zara smiled. “A new person’s just entered the room. This one’s not like the others. Her genetic heritage is clearly different from the others.”

  “In what way?” he asked. “Does she look to be leading them? Perhaps she’s one of the Masters?”

  “No. She’s a worker just like the others. Her face is mesmerized by what she is doing, as though she is performing the work of the Gods. But she is slightly shorter than the other women, her complexion is much lighter than theirs, but not Caucasian either. She looks possibly Eurasian. While all of the men and women there look muscular, she appears more lithe and athletic. A different sort of bone structure. She’s wearing tan cargo shorts and a white tank top. She has a small tattoo of a pyramid above her right shoulder. Very pretty.”

  “What, are you trying to set me up on a date?”

  “No. Just giving you the facts.”

  Sam smiled, patiently. “All right, can I see her?”

  Zara moved out of the way for him. “Sure.”

  He looked through the orb. The looking glass showed more than fifty people working in the large room. Some were men and others were women, but the entire group appeared homogenous. Every one of them appeared captivated by their work.

  Not cap
tivated, hypnotized.

  “The pretty one’s gone,” Sam said.

  “I thought you weren’t interested in a date?” she teased.

  “I’m not. I was hoping I could work out where she’d come from. Then we might be able to find out where this temple is. Something here must have answers to the Nostradamus equation. If not I can’t see why Nostradamus sent us here.”

  “He didn’t send us here. He saw a version of the future where I was here and I discovered the Nostradamus Equation.”

  “Great.” Sam backed away from the device, making way for Tom. “You found the first looking glass in the submarine pyramid. That one had views of a number of different temples and ancient structures. Have you recognized anything about this one that we might use to determine where it is or why we were meant to find it?”

  Tom shrugged. “I’ll see if I recognize anything, but ancient temples and pictography really isn’t my area of expertise.”

  Zara said, “Try it. Anything at all that stands out.”

  Sam watched as Tom placed his eye right up against the looking glass as though it were a telescope. He stared through it for a couple minutes. His eyes darting from left to right and then stopped. His eyes now fixed on one specific detail. His pupils dilated. The rise and fall of his chest increased in frequency, as though he’d seen something that terrified him.

  Zara placed her hand on Tom’s shoulder. There was nothing sexual about it. A simple, nurturing gesture. “What did you see, Tom? Did that woman come back into view?”

  “What is it, Tom?” Sam asked.

  Tom stepped back from the looking glass. His eyes staring vacantly past both of them. There were beads of sweat forming on his forehead and blood had drained from his skin.

  “Christ!” Zara was the first to work it out. “You recognize her, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” Tom wrapped his arms around Zara, like a child. “Her name is Dr. Billie Swan – and not so long ago, I came very close to marrying her.”

  Chapter Ninety-Six

  The sound of blood gurgling filled Tom’s ears, as his heart raced. The sight of Billie had triggered a primal response, and a sudden release of adrenaline. He felt bile rising as his stomach churned; unsure whether he wanted to be sick or open his bowels. Slight tremors engulfed his normally still and hardened hands.

  He looked at Sam. “That’s not Billie. She wanted to find the Master Builders, not be enslaved by them. They’ve done something to her and we need to help her.”

  “Of course we do.” Sam’s mouth was slightly open, and his eyes uncomprehending. “I just don’t know where to start. That place could be anywhere.”

  Tom stepped away from the orb. “What the hell have they done to her?”

  Zara said, “She looks drugged.”

  Tom asked, “How could she have let herself be drugged?”

  “Maybe she isn’t?” Sam suggested. “Perhaps she’s pretending. You know she’s spent her entire adult life and a great portion of her childhood searching for the Master Builders. She was convinced that some still remained, and watched over us like Gods.”

  Tom said, “We have to go after her!”

  Zara asked, “What about the Nostradamus Equation?”

  Tom swore. “Fuck the Nostradamus Equation. I’m out. All I want to do is to find her.”

  “We need to find the equation, it’s more important than anything else,” Zara said. “I understand she means a lot to you – all of you, but you have to understand, if we don’t find the Nostradamus Equation, none of it will matter.”

  Tom pounded the side of the pedestal with his open hand. “You can stay here and try and find the Nostradamus Equation. I’m leaving.”

  Sam asked, “Where? You have no idea where to look! That temple could be anywhere on the planet!”

  Tom’s jaw was set hard. His brown eyes violently determined as he said, “No. But we know someone who does.”

  Sam looked at him. Swallowed. “You’re right. I think it’s time we visit the Vatican City.”

  “And then I’m going to kill him!” Tom said, his voice full of vehemence.

  “No, Tom. I believe you actually might, and then we’ll be no better off than we are now. So I have a suggestion. Why don’t you remain here and keep watching the looking glass, maybe you can work out how they’re controlling Billie. I’ll take Zara with me. We’ll reach the Vatican before close of business and bring HIM back here for answers.”

  Tom shook his head. His instincts and duty were the only things keeping him grounded at all. “Okay.”

  “Are you willing to come with me to the Vatican?” Sam looked at Zara. “I’ll explain why on the way.”

  “Sure,” she said. Her eyes distant.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What is it?” Sam persisted. “You look worried about something.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Say it.”

  She shook her head, dismissively.

  Sam said, “Just say it!”

  Zara swallowed. “Did the future just try to lead us away from the Nostradamus Equation?”

  Chapter Ninety-Seven – The Vatican City

  The white taxi, an electric Nissan Leaf, drove silently past Castel Sant'Angelo. It continued along Via Di Porta Angelica and stopped illegally on the side of Viale Vaticano. The 39 foot high defensive stone wall stood concealing the Vatican City on the opposite side of the road. Behind it, St. Peter’s Basilica protruded high into the skyline.

  It was the world’s smallest independent nation-state. Covering 109 acres within a 2-mile border, and possessed another 160 acres of holdings in remote locations around the world. Along with the centuries-old buildings and gardens, the Vatican maintained its own banking and telephone systems, post office, pharmacy, newspaper, and radio and television stations, web sites and satellite feeds. Its 600 citizens included the Gendarmerie Corps, who were the Vatican’s civil police officers and also members of the Swiss Guard, a security detail charged with protecting the Pope since 1506 – who, in spite of their silly-looking uniforms, were as well-trained and dedicated as a Seal Team.

  Sam gave the taxi driver forty Euros and stepped out without waiting for the change. The pungent and ubiquitous aroma of coffee and cigarette smoke wafted through his nostrils. Dust from the ancient ruins of what could arguably be one of the greatest civilizations to have ever lived, drifted from the central ruins.

  Zara followed him and looked up at the entrance. A long line of tourists, queuing to visit the sacred city, stretched several hundred feet before disappearing inside the arched entrance to the Vatican Museum.

  She bit her lower lip. “We could be here for hours!”

  “No we won’t.” Sam started walking directly for the arched entrance. “Come with me and don’t stop until the Swiss Guards arrest you.”

  “That’s your plan?”

  “Yep.”

  She asked, “You’re certain this guy’s going to be interested in talking?”

  Sam said, “Certain.”

  “How do you know about this person?”

  “He used the alias of Testimonium Architectus.”

  “Witness to the builders?” she sounded incredulous.

  Sam nodded. “Three months ago we followed an ancient celestial map to the Falkland Islands. There we dived the inside of a blowhole and discovered a hidden room made entirely of obsidian. Constellations of stars glowed on the walls, depicting the night sky from different angles of the planet. Beneath the obsidian vault, we found a hidden tunnel. We followed it and at the very end we found an open book.”

  She grinned slightly. Like she knew she was being intentionally pulled into the story. “What was inside the book?”

  “A series of entries spanning more than two thousand years. Each one a significant event in the lives of the Master Builders. The most recent entry being made only weeks earlier. So, instead of taking the book, we decided to watch the obsidian vault.”

  �
��For what?”

  “For someone bearing witness to the Master Builders, and providing us with a link. Six weeks went by and our decision to wait and watch paid off as another entry was made. In that entry a single note was placed – The Book of Nostradamus has been found.”

  She nodded but said nothing.

  Sam continued. “At the time we thought little of it. The witness was followed, all the way back to the Vatican. I figured I’d go and introduce myself and see what I could find out, but then I got distracted because an agent went missing in the Sahara.” He shook his head and smiled. “In retrospect, I might have been better off coming here first.”

  She smiled at him. “You may have been, but I would have been killed.”

  He shrugged. “There is always that possibility.”

  “But will he listen to you?”

  “He won’t want to. My guess is the Swiss Guards will try to blow us off.”

  “And if they do?”

  “Then we mention the Nostradamus Equation has been found.”

  Sam reached the main entrance to the Vatican Museum, cutting through the crowds as though he and Zara belonged inside. The trick was not to hesitate for a moment. Only a fool or a person who was meant to be there, would push through a crowd who’d been waiting hours to enter.

  He stepped beneath the large entrance arch. Above were statues depicting the two great artists who spent so much of their lives adding to the richness of the Vatican. On the left was the genius of the Renaissance, Michelangelo, represented with the sculptor's mallet in his hand. On the right, the young painter Raphael, with his palette and brush.

  Zara glanced at the two great artists. “Amazing what those two achieved in their time on earth.”

  Sam nodded, without listening. He was still trying to plan his next series of responses if the Swiss Guards weren’t interested in his story. Or worse, still – if he was wrong about the Witness to the Master Builders.