“Okay.”
“Okay, what?” Sam asked.
“Thanks for telling me the truth.”
Sam shook his head. “You wouldn’t accept that I’d come here to help because I was a marine biologist, but you’re willing to take my insane story at face value?”
“Sure. You’re a terrible liar. You tend to hold your breath more when you’re lying.”
“I don’t!”
“It’s all right. It doesn’t matter.” Airlie laughed. “I’m sorry you didn’t find your temple. Was it important?”
“Right now, it’s probably the most important place on Earth.”
“What was the constellation?”
“Aquila.”
“Do you have a picture?”
“Sure. Do you know anything about astronomy?”
“As a matter of fact, I just completed my PhD in astrophysics.”
“Get out of here!” Sam unlocked his cell phone and showed her a picture of the stone tablet, under a black light, where the four unmarked sapphires depicted the hidden temples that made up the constellation of Aquila.”
“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. But the constellation isn’t Aquila.”
“Are you sure?”
“Certain. See this bright star here?”
Sam nodded. “Altair?”
She nodded. “It looks like Altair, but it isn’t. See how it’s to the left, where it should be to the right of this triangle of stars. It’s easy to confuse because it’s so bright.”
Sam swallowed hard. “Any idea what it is then?”
“Sure. That’s the constellation of Contrarian, because it’s a mirror image of the constellation of Aquila. Although I don’t think your stone actually refers to the same body of stars.”
“Why not?”
“Because Contrarian was only recently discovered using the Keck Telescope on Mauna Kea.”
“Any chance an ancient race, highly advanced in astronomy could have spotted the constellation first?”
Airlie laughed. “Not a hope in the world.”
“Are you certain? From what I’ve seen, the world had some extraordinary astronomers ten thousand years ago.”
“I agree, but seeing Contrarian would have been impossible by the human eye without very powerful assistance.”
Sam sighed. He was grasping at straws. “Just out of interest, I don’t suppose you know what Contrarian means in English?”
“I sure do. It means opposite.”
“If this map were made today, do you think its cartographers would have wanted us to know that the locations identified mean the opposite?”
“Maybe. That’s more your expertise. I deal with the stars rather than the Earth’s antipodes.”
“What did you say?” Sam asked.
“I deal more with the stars than the Earth’s antipodes… why?”
Sam called out to Billie. “Get your laptop out.”
Billie stepped toward them, removed her backpack and started her computer. “What’s up?”
Sam said, “Dr. Swan, this is Dr. Chapman. She just pointed out that we were wrong about Aquila. It’s actually the constellation of Contrarian, meaning opposite…”
“Or antipode!” Billie beat him to it.
“Exactly.”
Billie put her laptop on the volcanic rock in front of the three of them. An antipode was the direct opposite mark on the planet. Like the old concept that if you keep digging a hole through the Earth’s crust, you’ll reach China, an antipode is a mathematical opposite to any given coordinate on Earth.
She typed the current coordinates into her world map software. Mathematically, the geographical coordinates of an antipodal point can be calculated by converting each coordinate to the opposite latitude. For example, 45 degrees North becomes 45 degrees South. Then the longitude needs to be subtracted from 180 degrees. For example, 25 degrees West will be 180 degrees minus 25 degrees, making the antipode 155 degrees East.
Billie clicked enter and the program gave the answer immediately.
She shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”
“What is it?” Sam asked.
“The antipode to the Phoiki Hot Pond is somewhere in the southern half of Africa.”
Sam’s eyes widened and his lips curled into a grin. “Let me guess – the buried pyramid of the Kalahari Desert.”
Billie nodded, “Exactly.”
Chapter Forty-One
Within five minutes Billie had the exact locations of the four hidden temples.
Sam stared at the list of locations. The computer had automatically identified the closest known town or spot to the location. The sight took his breath away.
Orvieto – Italy.
Kalahari Desert – Namibia
Sigiriya – Indonesia
Lord Howe Island – Australia
Airlie glanced at the list. “Nice list for a vacation.”
Sam nodded. “If the extinction of the human race weren’t riding on it.”
“That bad, hey?”
“That bad.”
Sam grabbed his cell phone again and dialed a number. “Tom! We found something. I need you and Genevieve to head over to Arizona University. The Professor there will give you one of the sacred stones. I need you to take it somewhere.”
“Sure, where?” Tom asked.
“Orvieto, Italy.”
“Anywhere in particular. Or just the walled city?”
“I have no idea. Just get there as soon as you can. I’ll get Billie to email you with the information we found. Good luck.”
He hung up and then pressed the contact number for Professor Douglas Capel. The phone rang. Twice.
On the third attempt, the Professor answered. “What?”
“We found the location of the hidden temples. Tell me you worked out how to move the sacred stones!”
“I’m still putting it all together, but the stones should be transferable within the next couple hours.”
“That’s great. Tom will be by to pick one of them up. Billie will send you an email with the locations where we need to send the other three stones. How would you like an all-expense paid trip around the world?”
“At my age, I’d just as happily stay at home. But, why not?”
“Good. Just out of interest, how did you resolve the problem of transporting the sacred stones of blackbody?”
“I constructed a vacuum. No air meant no electrons to steal. The stone remains a constant weight inside.”
“That’s great. Well done.”
Sam hung up. He glanced at Airlie. “Dr. Chapman, I can’t tell you how much you’ve helped us. Your information might just have saved the entire human race from extinction.”
Airlie stood up and started to pack her small travel bag. “I’m coming with you.”
Sam grinned. “Where?”
“Wherever it is you’re going. To the antipode of this place. Where that constellation is directing you.”
“Shouldn’t you wait here?”
“My fiancé’s dead. There’s nothing I can do here to bring him back. But if I come with you, I might just find a way to make it so that he didn’t die in vain.”
Sam remained silent. The last thing he needed right now was a tag-a-long.
“I won’t slow you down. But I might be able to help. If you’ve told the truth about anything today, we both know you’re going to need all the help you can get.”
He knew the importance of having something to concentrate your efforts on after a terrible event like losing someone close to you. Sam didn’t know what she could do, but he wasn’t going to turn her help away, either. “Look. I need to check something out. I’ll be back in a few days. Give me your number and I’ll contact you.”
She took a deep breath and sighed. “You’re right. I should probably tell his family. Call me if there’s anything I can do.”
“Of course.”
Demyan greeted him as he was leaving. “You found something?”<
br />
“Yes. Not here though.”
“That’s great news.” Demyan swapped cell numbers. “If I find anything I think you might need, I’ll call you. You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do to help, right?”
“Of course,” Sam promised.
Chapter Forty-Two
Orvieto – Italy
The historic red and white funicular lurched forward with a jolt.
Tom Bower gripped Genevieve’s hand affectionately as they traveled beneath a thick forest of Italian pine, which formed a natural arbor through which their carriage ascended. The medieval walled city of Piazza Cahen rose majestically out of a great volcanic plug that extended more than five hundred feet above.
The single line carriageway used two cars and a central pivot point to allow simultaneous uphill and downhill routes along the constant sixteen-degree slope for the entire duration of the nearly two-thousand-foot route.
Tom glanced at the approaching carriage. It traveled downward and toward them, at a combined speed of forty feet per second. He watched, half-waiting for the two to crash into one another. At the last moment, the approaching carriage shifted to the right as theirs shifted to the left and the two passed with no more than a few inches to spare on either side.
He followed its descent toward the station below, taking in the rolling hills toward the village of Umbria, where rows upon rows of olive orchards were left behind. Tom’s gaze returned upward, and he watched as the line passed through the rampart, which surrounded the entire city, in a tunnel, where Tom took advantage of the darkness to kiss Genevieve.
As the light rose, she pushed him away with a mischievous smile and a reprimand. “There’s work to be done.”
“No reason we shouldn’t enjoy ourselves in the process.” Tom squeezed her hand. “Besides, how often do you think Sam’s going to ask us to go to a romantic Italian village and pretend we’re on our honeymoon?”
She kissed him on the lips and then smiled lasciviously. “For the sake of keeping up our cover.”
They waited as the masses of tourists disembarked, and then followed.
Dominating their vision of Orvieto was the 14th century cathedral. Soaring skyward the glittering, golden-faced Duomo’s walls were made of long rungs of greenish-black basalt and white travertine. Tom casually followed the crowed through one of the three large bronze doors that remained permanently open.
He stepped through the doors.
Tom swept the interior of the cathedral with his eyes, devouring its rich history dating back to the renaissance. The apse was commanded by a large stained-glass quadrifore window. Made between 1328 and 1334 by Giovanni di Bonino – a glass master from Assisi – it draped sunlight onto the golden mosaics, giant frescoes, and rows of pews. Cylindrical columns also consisting of alternate rows of travertine and basalt, led to the trussed wooden ceiling. Above which, the transept was roofed with quadripartite, or four-celled stone vaults.
He walked silently down the aisle.
Above the altar, a large polychrome wooden crucifix hung and behind that, a series of damaged Gothic frescoes dedicated to the life of the Virgin Mary. He followed the wave of tourists and pilgrims who flocked to the two large frescoes that lined the San Brizio chapel to the right of the cathedral. They depicted a vision of an awe-inspiring Last Judgement and Apocalypse, below which were fiery scenes from Dante’s journey into Hell.
Genevieve glanced at the image and then back at Tom. “Do you think it’s some sort of sign?”
“What?” Tom studied the image in greater detail. “You think it’s a reference to Apocalypse we’re trying to avoid?”
She shrugged. “The thought crossed my mind.”
“It seems unlikely that Luca Signorelli, the master who’d been commissioned to paint the frescoes, had any idea about an asteroid that was set to return to Earth every thirteen thousand years. Do you?”
Genevieve handed him the visitor’s guide to the cathedral. “Maybe he did?”
Tom read the note out loud. “At the close of the 15th century, Orvieto experienced a series of events which presaged evidence of divine displeasure. Terrible rainstorms, plague, civil strife, the threat of invasion, and appalling apparitions in the sky were seen as apocalyptic warnings.”
“Any guesses what that means?”
“None. I’m a helicopter pilot, not an archeologist or historian.” Tom looked around. He’d seen enough of the historic cathedral. “Sam told me to look for a receptacle for the sacred stone. His guess is that it will be underground. He has a theory that because the stone is made of blackbody, which draws in all mass around it, the most powerful way for the stone to be set up would be to have it imbedded in rock.”
“Like a five hundred feet high volcanic plug that Orvieto rests upon?” she asked.
“Exactly! We’ll search the catacombs first.”
She smiled at his simplicity. “All right.”
The five bells started to ring in E-flat.
Tom looked at his watch. “What do you know? It’s midday, shall we find some lunch?”
Genevieve nodded. “Sure.”
“Great. I’m starving. Then let’s find the receptacle for the sacred stone.”
They walked down Via Ripa Serancia, a narrow cobblestone street, which made its way toward the south-eastern edge of Orvieto. He glanced at a sign for a restaurant called, Le Grotte del Funaro, and then back at Genevieve. “What do you think?”
“Everything looks good in Italy.”
Tom opened the door, and they entered the small restaurant. Built into the mountain, the walls were a mixture of tunneled tuff and golden sandstone.
A waiter brought them a menu. Tom glanced at it, and then ordered the special of the day.
A new patron entered the restaurant. He had dark olive skin, and his face wore the dark unshaven stubble of two day’s growth. He was impeccably dressed in an Italian made suit. A slight bulge beneath his left breast pocket suggested the possibility he was carrying a holstered weapon. The man took a seat at the table farthest away and ordered something in fluent Italian. Tom noticed that he refused the complimentary glass of local Tuscany wine, opting for a glass of water instead. Tom couldn’t be sure, but the man appeared distracted, constantly glancing up in their directions.
Tom unfolded the tourist map. Inside he wrote, is the big Italian guy trailing us? He handed the note to Genevieve and said, “Where do you want to go next, beautiful?”
Genevieve ran her eyes across the tourist map. She casually glanced at the stranger and wrote a new message. “How about here?”
Tom looked at the message. He’s not interested in the food.
“We’ll keep our eye on him and try and lose him when we’re finished.”
She nodded.
A moment later, a solidly-built man as white as a ghost walked in and ordered a drink. He was wearing dark sunglasses, and took a seat four rows back from them.
The man removed his sunglasses, revealing somber blue-gray eyes.
Chapter Forty-Three
Kalahari Desert
The Cessna 172’s altimeter read 8,000 feet. It was a STOL – short take-off and landing – taildragger with an oversized propeller. One of the last models that still used two large wheels up front and a single one at the back, making it much more capable when it came to landing off the beaten track – or in this case, in the sand.
Through the windshield, Sam stared at the seemingly endless vista of sand dunes. From the air, it was easy to see how the Kalahari Pyramid had remained buried for so long. Next to him, Billie sat silently watching the landscape go by, her face a unique mix between wide-eyed wonder and truculence. For two people who’d spent most of their lives searching for the same ancient race, they struggled to spend more than a few hours together in the confined space of a small cockpit.
His eyes swept the flight instruments before darting across to the GPS. It showed them approaching the coordinates. He reduced the single engine back to an idle, dipped th
e nose, and commenced his descent.
Billie turned to face him.
She smiled, but her voice was belligerent. “Tell me again, why you sent Tom and Genevieve to a romantic medieval village in Italy to search for answers, while you and I get to take the deserted pyramid in the middle of a very hot nowhere.”
“What?” Sam asked. “I thought it would be nice for them. Besides, they’ve been working pretty hard without much of a break lately – in case you forgot, they spent most of last year trying to find and rescue you.”
“Sure. How long are you going to keep reminding me that I owe you one for getting me out of the Amazon jungle where I was being kept prisoner?”
“As long as I can.” He pushed the yoke forward, away from his chest, and the aircraft’s attitude dipped into a steeper rate of descent. “How long do you think I can get away with it?”
“Not long.”
He searched the area for a sign of the buried pyramid. It had only been eight weeks since they’d left the temple, but already any sign of the buried pyramid had been completely lost from the air. Sam glanced at the GPS marker and the large sand dune. He circled around, banking to the left in a continuous circle, until he’d reduced his altitude and was ready to set up for a final approach. He picked a spot at the nearly flat base, between two sand dune crests.
The wind was nonexistent, and he carefully took the Cessna down, easing it into the sand. He idled the Cessna to the end of the relatively flat area, and then spun the tail, setting it up for when he needed to take off later.
He shut down the engine and climbed out of the cockpit.
Billie followed him. Slipping her arms through her small backpack, she glanced across the two sand dunes that dominated the landscape. “Where’s the entrance?”
Sam placed a plastic cover on the engine’s air intake manifold to protect it from the sand. Then looked up at the largest sand dune to the east. “Over there, somewhere…”
She followed his gaze. “It’s buried under that sand dune?”
“No.”
“Then where is it?”
He switched on his hand-held GPS and waited for it to pick up enough satellites to locate the marker at the entrance of the buried Kalahari Desert temple. “It’s about half a mile past that sand dune.”
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