The Cydonia Objective mi-3

by David Sakmyster

  “All right, all right, I’ve got them here.” Alexander reached under his dusty shirt and withdrew the cord. The three pyramid-shaped keys reflected in the light, sparkling green.

  “We’ll take those.”

  “Let him keep it on. Calderon said we’re taking him with us.”

  “Fine. Okay kid, rescue time. Get up.”

  Alexander rose, still half-blinded. He bent down, reaching for the laptop, but suddenly one of the men snatched it up first.

  “I’ll take this too. Since you were keen on protecting it.”

  “Move it, kid.”

  Alexander let himself be led back to the ropes. Strong arms scooped him up under his armpits, something was clasped into the man’s belt, and then—they were rising. About halfway out of the crater, Alexander’s eyes adjusted—and he wished they hadn’t. What he saw bore no resemblance to the place he had spent most of his young life. The world’s largest library, a wonder of the modern age, gone in an instant.

  His eyes welled up and tears cut through the layers of dust on his cheeks and fell back into the pit, to the vault still filled with the broken dreams of the ancients.

  Something at eye-level caught his attention, and as the crane swung them over the drilling equipment and to a makeshift platform, he saw two boys standing on the edge, impatiently waiting to greet their brother.

  #

  “He doesn’t look like he’s all that special,” one boy said, circling Alexander. “Does he, Jacob?”

  Hugging his shoulders, he tried not to stare at the boys. Jacob stood right in front of him, looking at him like he was a sideshow exhibit, and Isaac moved around, inspecting him from all angles. But Alexander tried to stay strong. “Didn’t say I was.”

  His two rescuers had moved to a position back near the black Hummer waiting at the other side of the platform. Alexander squinted and tried to see in there, but was too distracted.

  “Ah but you’re the promised one,” Isaac said.

  “The one who opened the door first,” Jacob added.

  “Found the great old box you did,” Isaac sneered. “Just didn’t open it. Now we have you. Got the box, the secret books, and the keys.”

  “Keys to the universe,” Jacob said.

  Alexander’s hand went to his necklace. He held the three stones, immediately feeling a twinge of something vibrating into his fingers and up his arm. “It won’t help you. Not after what I just learned.”

  “And what,” said a new voice, “did you learn down there?” Mason Calderon had come around from the side, behind a line of rescue vehicles, their lights flashing. Further in that direction, barricades held back a surging crowd growing larger by the minute, a sea of desperate faces.

  Calderon came strolling forward, leaning only slightly on his cane. His suit coat waved in the wind around his back as he moved. His face, Alexander thought, was smoother, glossy and wax-like, as if he’d just been rejuvenated. His eyes sparkled as he came right up to Alexander, then stopped and looked at all three of the boys.

  “A family reunion! Isn’t this just grand. Boys? Did you introduce yourself to your long-lost brother?”

  “He knows,” Isaac said bluntly.

  “Obviously,” Jacob added.

  Alexander resisted his curiosity at studying these kids and instead turned his glare to Calderon. “My uncle Xavier thinks you’re going to destroy the world. So if these keys are going to help you, then forget it. I won’t help.”

  “Then what?” Calderon spread out his arms, with the cane’s dragon head pointing up to the clouds. “Are you going to jump back into the hole? We’ll just fish out your body and get those keys your family worked so hard to obtain. And as for destroying the world…” He shook his head. “Don’t be silly. I intend to save it.”

  “But Xavier saw…”

  “I believe he saw what would happen if I didn’t succeed. If he didn’t join me and help me unlock the secrets of the Emerald Tablet. To annihilate the true, secret enemy of mankind.”

  “He’s joined you?” Alexander felt the energy leaving his voice. The keys now felt like heavy iron chunks. Calderon stepped to the side and Alexander could see a man with red hair standing by the back of the Hummer, opening the trunk. The two soldiers were with him.

  “Come on,” Calderon said as he turned his back to the boys. “Let’s get this damn box open and see what we’ve won.”

  “But—”

  “Move it,” Isaac said as he jabbed his elbow into Alexander’s side. “And give me those!” He reached out like he was going to strangle Alexander, then snatched at the pendants, caught a hold of the cord and yanked it free.

  “Hey!”

  Isaac skipped ahead, twirling around, holding the keys high. After a moment’s hesitation, Jacob followed, glancing back once to Alexander. “Come on,” he said in a low voice, and waved his hand.

  Sorry, Dad. Hanging his head, Alexander followed, and the only thing keeping him going was the belief that maybe Xavier knew what he was doing. He was always a step ahead of everyone. Maybe this time, he had Calderon right where he wanted him.

  But when Alexander made it to the Hummer and saw Xavier shoved aside by the guards, his head down in resignation, all hope fled.

  “The Keys,” said Calderon, and took a step back. “You boys do the honors.”

  Isaac quickly stepped up. He slid the stones off the cord and held them all in his hand, gazing at them longingly. Alexander wondered if he even appreciated who had held those objects. Cyrus the Great, Genghis Khan, Alexander… The greatest leaders and conquerors in history; and now, this kid was handling them, roughly inserting one into the slot.

  “What about me?” Jacob asked, moving in.

  “Snooze you lose,” Isaac replied, fitting in the second.

  “Hope it zaps you,” Alexander said.

  Isaac glanced back before inserting the third. “Right… Hmmm, why don’t you do the last one?” He held out his hand.

  Alexander glanced over at Xavier, who had raised his head and was watching Alexander. He gave a nod, indicating he’d be safe, as Alexander thought. There was no danger at this point to anything other than the contents of the box. But his visions had shown that the three keys alone would do it.

  The hand bobbled. “Come on, brother. Honor’s all yours.”

  “Somebody just do it,” Calderon snapped.

  Alexander sighed. “Let Jacob do it. I’m tired.”

  Jacob flashed his eyes at him—whether in anger or gratitude Alexander wasn’t sure. But then he snatched up the key from his brother and slipped it into the slot. The twins jumped back with a cry as a flash of light erupted from around the crack in the lid. A hiss of steam shot out in all directions, and then the cover propped up an inch.

  Calderon stepped through them, put the cane under his arms, and with the brazen confidence of a man fulfilling his believed-in-destiny, he lifted the lid up and off.

  He peered inside and smiled.

  Alexander couldn’t see at this angle, and then the twins were climbing up, gathering around and looking inside.

  “Just a bunch of clay tablets,” said Jacob.

  “Goofy writing,” Isaac added. “Boring!”

  “Have some respect, boys.” Calderon lifted one tablet out, holding it up. The script was familiar in places, Alexander saw. With alternating lines of ancient Greek and then the familiar script that was on the Emerald Tablet—which Alexander realized now was slightly reminiscent of the Rongo-Rongo carvings his mother had translated, the ones at that Mohenjo-Daro place, and Easter Island.

  “Hey,” Alexander said. “That—”

  But then the scene melted away and he was on an island, standing on a flat grassy hilltop under a pure blue sky. Below, miles from the waves that caressed the rocky shore, a hundred workers toiled in a quarry, hacking at the black granite chunks. Molding them into giant Moai that would be aligned into sacred patterns and stand guard, warding off the annihilation that comes for men when they become too adva
nced.

  “We will be safe here?” someone asks. And there is a woman, beautiful and shapely. Tall, with long black hair blowing in the breezes around her face, obscuring her eyes. She holds a smooth piece of driftwood in her hands. On it is written that script in alternating rows, front and back.

  Instructions set to animalistic myth. Instructions on how to hide. To live simply and to protect themselves.

  And wait.

  Wait for salvation.

  “Will it be long?” she asks, her voice cracking in the wind.

  “Undoubtedly,” the chief replies. “Many, many generations.”

  He looks to the sky, to the defiant moon hanging high and triumphant, stubbornly refusing to yield to the rising sun. And he trembles, recalling the legends.

  She notices his gaze.

  “How can we think to hide?”

  “We just do as we were brought up. Just as there is evil, there is good. Darkness and Light. We must hope the light will protect us.” He sighs and reaches for her hand. “But come, enough of this melancholy. We have much living to do before we pass on.”

  #

  Alexander blinked and it was gone. Xavier’s bushy red hair was centered in his vision, the wide blue eyes searching his. “You okay? Lost you there for a minute.”

  “Yeah, I’m…”

  Xavier was shoved aside by the cane, and Calderon stooped down. “Tell me you didn’t go looking anywhere you weren’t invited.”

  “What do you mean?” Alexander stammered, still woozy, still smelling the salty ocean breezes and mistaking the sound of hammering and digging of the rescue attempt with the construction of the giant heads on Easter Island. “I don’t have much control over what I see. I just saw that writing and—”

  “And did you see anything… blue? A wall of blue, or a congregation of people, like monks in white robes?”

  “What?”

  Calderon continued staring at Alexander, searching his eyes for a fear that wasn’t there. “Never mind. You’re okay.” He shot a glance at Xavier. “You too, watch yourself. We’re in dangerous territory now. Now that we have this…” He motioned to the box, the tablets.

  “What are you afraid of?” Alexander asked, his voice meek.

  “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  “Does it have to do with the… Custodians?”

  Calderon made a sharp breath. He spun and gripped Alexander’s shoulder, tightly. “Where did you hear that name?”

  “Stop it, that hurts.”

  Xavier’s hand settled on Calderon’s wrist, squeezed and pulled it back—and for a moment both men stared at each other in a contest of wills. Until the barrel of an MP5 was shoved against Xavier’s temple.

  “Take it away,” Calderon whispered.

  “You first,” Xavier replied, squeezing harder. “You don’t touch him.”

  Calderon opened his fingers. And the gun pulled away. “Fine.” He slapped at Xavier’s hand, then turned back to Alexander. “Tell me. What do you know?”

  “Oooh,” said Isaac, moving in close to Calderon’s side. “Our brother’s in trouble. Learned secrets he shouldn’t have.”

  “Shut up,” Calderon hissed. “This is serious shit. Up until now I’ve had the luxury of operating without their interference, mainly because the Morpheus Initiative have drawn their attention with their plunder of the Tablet.”

  “But they want it too,” Alexander said. “It’s why it was hidden so well. I learned the Custodians can see, but not as well as us. They’ve lost focus over the long years, and they’ve lost touch.” He snapped his head to Xavier. And it all spilled out of him as if he now believed it to be pure fact, never any doubt. “They’re underground, most of them. The survivors of the last age, the ones with the powers to see the damage the wars would do to the planet. Claimed to be the shepherds of the next race, the ones without any psychic abilities.”

  “The grunts,” Isaac said, “as me and Jacob call ’em.”

  Jacob moved into view, looking pale, as if this was a subject he had heard once and didn’t care to revisit.

  “What else?” Calderon urged.

  Alexander hunched his shoulders, trying to appear thinner and less consequential. “I don’t know. My mom and some of the Keepers deciphered some ancient document from the Pharos vault that had these legends.”

  “About what?” Calderon prodded.

  “Wars. Ancient wars,” Alexander said. “Myths like a lot of the others. The gods in the sky battling it out. Good and evil.” Excitement started building in his voice. “But they used great lightning bolts and blasted the planets. And there were two of those power things—the Tablets of Destiny. Each side had one and let loose on each other, first in small targeted ways and only to the warriors. But then it got worse, and more desperate and the one side—who based their weapon on Mars, attacked and flipped the Earth…”

  “Flipped its magnetic pole,” Xavier whispered.

  “…and the Earth’s forces retaliated with a weapon shot from a great pyramid that wiped out life on Mars, and then something else happened. Someone managed to steal the bad guys’ tablet and break it with a lance.”

  “Marduk,” Calderon whispered, nodding and caressing the slain dragon on his cane.

  “And then—”

  “All right, that’s enough.” He stood. “You’ve read the same legends I have, which I’m guessing is what Robert Gregory saw as well and conveyed to me. Just proof of what our leaders have always known.”

  “But,” said Alexander. “It’s true?” He waited, and after no response, said, “But if they’re still here, waiting, and there’s only one tablet left…” Alexander made the realization. “It should have been destroyed, too, if Thoth had not been so cautious.”

  “Maybe,” said Xavier, “he kept it around in case mankind had need of it again someday. In case the threat wasn’t gone for good.”

  Calderon nodded in agreement. “In case the enemy regrouped and was determined to claim its revenge. Well, thanks to that foresight, we now have it and can finish the job. Pack this up,” he ordered the guards. “And we all ride together. We’ll scan the tablets on the way to the airport, then send the data to my translation team standing by.”

  “Standing by where?” Alexander asked as he followed Xavier into the Hummer.

  Jacob and Isaac moved in front of him and both turned at the same time and answered:

  “Alaska.”

  8.

  New York

  The ferry to Ellis Island was nearly full, surprisingly so for a weekday. But Caleb quickly worked his way past the gift shop, where he bought a liter of orange Gatorade, then up two levels to the roof where he found an open seat on a bench near the back. He had bought a classic Yankees hat on the street outside, so now he looked like another tourist.

  He sat and waited for the ferry to leave, and was grateful for the cloud cover, even if darker storm clouds seemed to be massing along the skyline. After all the days of heat and direct sun, he’d welcome the shower. From this vantage point he could keep an eye on the line outside, watching for anyone suspicious who might have been following him since he’d come back into the country. Watching, especially for Nina.

  For all he knew, she may have recovered, learned where he was going and beat him here. In a minute he’d try to remote-view her, but he had other objectives weighing on his mind, vying for his attention.

  An Asian family sat in front of him, parents and grandparents, while their kids—two boys and a girl—scooted into his row and sat on the bench beside him, grinning.

  “First trip to the statue!” the girl said, waving a large foam finger at him. She had a pink crown on her head, contrasting with the green spiked crowns worn by her brothers.

  Caleb smiled and nodded. “Going to the top?”

  “I am!” one of her brothers boasted.

  “Are not,” said the girl. “I heard it’s too hot in there, and too hard to climb.”

  “And,” said the father, turning
around. “We didn’t get enough tickets.”

  “Tickets…” Caleb rubbed his head. “I forgot we need a separate ticket for the crown.” The one he held only granted access to the museum and the lower pedestal.

  “Sold out,” the man said. “Months in advance, since they reopened it. Eight years after the attacks, it’s been off-limits.”

  Caleb nodded, wondering… What else is up there? What else are they protecting? Mason Calderon knew something was there, but his boys weren’t skilled enough at finding it. And whoever hid it there kept the knowledge to very few people.

  Caleb would have to view it, and would have little time for trial and error, little time to spend getting the questions right. He took a deep breath, trying to relax. And then, even if he found it…

  “Excuse me,” he said to the man in front of him. “I heard that your children might not be interested in the long, hot climb. Might you have an extra ticket for the access to the crown?”

  #

  Halfway to their destination, as Lady Liberty appeared to grow in size, becoming the colossus that can only be appreciated from up close, the kids got out of their seats for photo opportunities along the railing. Caleb, pretending to sleep, now had some time to really concentrate. He put out of his mind all the things he could no longer influence: Alexander’s situation, Phoebe and Orlando, the twins, Nina, Lydia… Everything.

  At first, none of them would relent, and the weight of responsibility—as leader, father and husband—put up a brazen resistance. But finally, after gently pushing, he created space. Sent his other concerns drifting, out far but not out of sight. And for a time, he let go. And let his mind seek out the answers to a question he kept posing, focusing the words, preparing his thoughts. He felt his spine tingle, the back of his head break out in a sweat under the hat, and then-

  The first vision rises up: A great workshop. Enormous sheets of bronzed copper rest on tables. A giant’s shoulder, partially completed, and an arm gripping an enormous tablet in its huge hand. A dozen men stride through the chaos, barking orders, assisting at different stations; hammering the copper sheets into the wooden framework.