The Founders

by Richard Turner

  Grant sat back in his chair, studying the relaxed look on Susan’s face. If a nocturnal visitor had entered his dreams, Grant was sure he’d be terrified. “You don’t mind if we set up our cameras in your bedroom, do you?”

  “No. If it makes Grandma feel better, I’m okay with it.”

  Grant finished his pie and coffee, then headed up to Susan’s room. He positioned a miniature camera with a listening device above the door, and a second one on a bookshelf, positioned so it would look back toward the door. Next, he placed a couple of motion sensors on opposite ends of the room. If the sensors were triggered, the cameras would automatically begin to record what was happening. Lastly, Grant checked the feed on his laptop, making sure he’d covered the entire room. When he was satisfied with his handiwork, Grant headed back downstairs to join the ladies still sitting around the table.

  “All done?” asked Rebeca.

  Grant nodded. “If anyone tries to step foot in Susan’s room later tonight, we’ll know about it.”

  “But Ben says it won’t work,” said Susan.

  Elena touched the young girl on the hand. “Well, let’s give it a try and see what happens. You never know, come tomorrow morning, we may have a video image of your friend.”

  Susan frowned. “Ben won’t like that.”

  Rebeca stood and hugged her granddaughter tightly. “Let’s not worry about what Ben thinks. Please, for me, let’s give this a try.”

  “Okay, Grandma,” replied Susan, returning her hug.

  “It’s getting late. I think it’s time you went upstairs to brush your teeth and then straight to bed. Say goodnight to our guests.”

  “Can I have a story?”

  “It’s a little late for that tonight. Maybe tomorrow.”

  Susan nodded, slid out of her chair, and waved at Elena and Grant. “Good night. See you tomorrow.”

  “Sleep tight,” said Elena, returning Susan’s wave.

  Grant winked at her. “See you in the morning, kiddo.”

  Susan scampered up the stairs to get ready for bed.

  Rebeca picked up the coffeepot and refilled everyone’s cups. She waited until she heard Susan’s door close before taking a seat. Rebeca looked at Grant, concern in her eyes. “Do you honestly think this will work?”

  “In theory, yes,” responded Grant. “But we won’t know until someone or something tries to enter Susan’s room.”

  “Won’t she set off the motion sensors when she gets out of her bed to go to the bathroom?”

  “Yes, but a minute after she settles back down in her bed, the cameras will automatically switch off.”

  “I doubt I’ll be able to sleep a wink tonight, wondering if Susan’s friend will pay her a visit.”

  “Let’s pray that come tomorrow morning the video feed is blank, and all of this is in Susan’s imagination. At least that can be dealt with through counseling.”

  Rebeca’s lower lip quivered. “And what do we do if we find that there was someone in her room with her?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Elena. “For now, let’s stay calm and wait to see what happens tonight.”

  “Would you two please stay the night? I have spare rooms. I honestly don’t think I could bear to be alone tonight.”

  Grant looked over at Elena, who gave a slight nod. “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

  “I’ll nip to the car and grab what we need from our overnight bags to spend the evening here,” said Elena.

  “Thank God,” declared Rebeca, standing. “I’ll make sure the beds are made before you get back.”

  Grant picked up his cup of coffee and smiled at Elena. “I don’t know about you, but I intend to stay awake and drink coffee all night long. I can sleep when the sun comes up.”

  Elena stifled a yawn. “I wish I could join you, but I’m bushed.”

  “There’s really no need for two people to stay up and stare at my laptop screen. You go get some sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Rebeca smiled and called it a night.

  Grant flipped open his laptop and brought up the two camera images on his screen. Susan was lying in bed reading a book. He marveled at the girl’s courage. If she were bothered by the prospect of a nocturnal visit, it didn’t show on her face. Grant checked his watch and saw it was coming up on ten o’clock. He brought over another chair and rested his legs on it. If he was going to be up all night, he would at least make himself as comfortable as possible.

  10

  It had been a couple of years since Grant had been forced to stay awake all night. By one in the morning, he found himself pacing back and forth in the kitchen and doing calisthenics to stay awake. Grant was about to make a fresh pot of coffee when his phone buzzed. He picked it up off the table and saw there was a text from Sam. One of the groups had reported seeing a strange set of lights moving to the east of the town. Grant turned on his heel until he was facing due east and walked to the nearest window. He peered through the glass, looking up at the star-filled sky. Without a major city nearby to give off light pollution, the heavens were filled with millions of points of light. It reminded him of his time in Iraq and Afghanistan. He felt a pang in his heart when he thought of the men in the training camp who had been slaughtered by a deadly team of unknown assailants and had set his life on a new path. Grant waited a minute longer before giving up. Aside from a shooting star that had arced its way across the sky, he couldn’t see any strange lights.

  He finished making his coffee, took a seat, and checked the screen. It was, as it had been the entire night, blank. Susan hadn’t gotten out of bed once. He took a long sip from his mug and let the hot liquid warm his insides. Grant was about to reach for his phone, when out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a flash of orange light. A split second later, his laptop screen switched on and then off.

  The hair on the back of Grant’s neck stood up. He stood, picked up a flashlight, and looked up the stairs. He had expected to see light coming from under Susan’s door. Instead, there was only darkness. Grant walked to the stairs and stealthily climbed them all the way to her door. His heart was racing. He reached for the doorknob and slowly turned it until the door opened. He could hear heavy breathing. Grant turned on his flashlight and saw Susan in her bed, fast asleep, clutching a stuffed teddy bear in her arms. He moved the light around the room and saw everything was as it should be, except for a piece of paper lying on the floor by Susan’s bed. Grant bent down and picked it up. He stepped back into the hallway and quietly closed the door behind him. Instead of the usual gray alien sitting on the floor with Susan, there was a tall, jagged mountain. Scribbled in the margin of the drawing were six numbers: 164726. Grant ran a hand through his hair, confused. What was the significance of the numbers? Did they even have any?

  He made his way back downstairs and took his seat, puzzled. The paper hadn’t been on the floor when Susan had gone to bed, and there was no way Susan could have drawn the picture without Grant seeing it on his computer. He wondered if it was an old one that had fallen off the wall at some point. He laid the drawing down next to his computer and went to check the video recording from the room. His eyes widened when he saw that there were forty-three new minutes of video on his computer. Grant pressed play and shook his head when all he got was a bright light filling his screen.

  “This doesn’t make sense,” Grant muttered as he checked the clock on his computer. To his amazement, it read just after two in the morning. He checked his watch and his phone. Both said the same thing. A shiver ran down his spine. Grant had lost almost an hour of time that he couldn’t account for. He’d heard Elena and Hayes talking about people reporting losing track of time during UFO encounters. Grant stood and looked around the room. Goose bumps formed down his arms. For a brief moment he felt as he was being watched, and suddenly, the dim light from the bulb above the stove wasn’t enough. He walked over to the light switch and turned it on, bathing the kitchen in brightness. The light made him f
eel safe. Grant then proceeded to walk through the main floor of the house, switching every light on until the whole main level shone brightly.

  He returned to the kitchen table and stared down at the mountain and the numbers on the drawing. “What is it, Susan? What are you trying to tell us?”

  11

  Washington, D.C.

  Maclean parked his rental car, a silver Chevy Equinox, on the street and looked up at the tall apartment block overlooking the Potomac River. While Hayes made a quick call to let Gabrielle know they’d arrived, Maclean got out of the car, opened the trunk, and removed a steel security briefcase. They made their way inside and took an elevator to the fifth floor, where Gabrielle was waiting in the hallway on her crutches. Her left leg, wrapped in a cast all the way down to her ankle, was covered with her co-workers’ signatures.

  “Good day, Doctor Collins,” said Hayes, waving to their host.

  “Good day to you, too, Doctor Hayes,” she replied, smiling. “Please come in.”

  Maclean was struck by Gabrielle’s youth and her beauty. She looked to be in her late twenties, with short, red hair, jade-green eyes, and a slim, athletic build. She had a small, upturned nose and a thin mouth, which made her look more like a model than a renowned scientist.

  Before Hayes could introduce him, Maclean stuck out his hand in greeting. “Hi, James Maclean, Sergeant, Australian Army.”

  “Doctor Gabrielle Collins. Pleased to meet you,” she replied, meeting Maclean’s gaze directly. “I’m not one for formality, so please just call me Gabrielle.”

  “Will do, if you’ll call me Jim.”

  Gabrielle led them into her small, but tidy, apartment, which had a great view of the river and the countryside. “Can I get you two gentlemen anything to drink?”

  “Tea, please,” said Hayes.

  “Water will be all right with me,” replied Maclean. “Here, let me give you a hand.”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  “Nonsense. My mum would give me an earful if she ever found out that I didn’t offer to help you.”

  Gabrielle smiled and nodded. “So, how did an Australian Army sergeant end up working alongside Doctor Jeremy Hayes?”

  “It’s a bit of a long story. Suffice it to say, my boss got to go to Montana on business, and I got stuck with the good doctor.”

  Hayes shook his head. “When you say it like that, Sergeant, you make it sound as if you had been given a life sentence in jail.”

  “I’m only pulling your leg, Professor.” Maclean turned his attention back to Gabrielle. “And speaking of legs, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you break yours?”

  “I was out on my bike, when a car turned from a side street and hit me. I was lucky to have only broken my leg. If he had been driving any faster, I could have gone over the top of his car and broken my neck.”

  “Thank God for small miracles.”

  “That’s one way of looking at it,” she replied, handing Maclean a cold bottle of water from her fridge.

  “Where can I leave this?” asked Maclean, holding up his metal briefcase.

  Gabrielle pointed to the dining room table. “What on earth do you have in there? The president’s nuclear launch codes?”

  “No. But it does contain something that you may find kind of interesting,” said Hayes.

  Maclean poured two cups of tea before maneuvering to take a seat at the table next to Gabrielle.

  Hayes’ voice became serious. “Doctor Collins, what I’m about to show you has to remain a secret between us, at least until the government decides what to do with it.”

  “Jeremy, you know I won’t tell a soul. I don’t mind telling you, though, that all this cloak-and-dagger secrecy is making me more than a bit nervous.”

  Maclean inserted a key into the briefcase’s lock and turned it. With a loud click, the bag opened. He reached inside, removed a sealed pouch, and handed it to Hayes.

  “Gabrielle, what I’m about to show you was recently found in a cave in Libya and was radiocarbon dated to around the third century BCE,” Hayes explained.

  Gabrielle reached over, took the pouch, and opened it. Her eyes widened. Gabrielle let out a gasp as she removed an airtight plastic folder containing the map.

  Maclean grinned while Gabrielle clearly struggled to find the words to describe what she was feeling.

  “My God, is this real?” she finally asked.

  “Yes, it is,” said Hayes.

  “Were any other artifacts found in this cave?”

  “Yes. But regrettably, they were all lost when the cave collapsed. Sergeant Maclean was lucky to escape with his life.”

  “What else did you see?” Gabrielle asked Maclean.

  “Dozens and dozens of scrolls and a fortune in gold.”

  “I wish I’d been there with you.”

  “No, you don’t,” he replied bluntly, instantly regretting his tone.

  Gabrielle resumed studying the map, thankfully not bothered by Maclean’s words. She studied it for close to a minute before raising her head. “This has to be a fake. Antarctica is too far north and wasn’t discovered until the nineteenth century. This map also shows the northern region to be ice free, and that’s impossible.”

  Hayes pointed to the writing on the margin of the map. “The person who made this map seems to have used three different sources to help him create this image of the world. Do any of those names mean anything to you?”

  Gabrielle read the names. “I only recognize one of them. Hesperos was a young scholar and a cartographer, who accompanied Alexander the Great during his many campaigns. It makes sense if you think about it. He would have had access to the libraries of Babylon and all the others spread across Persia. He could have easily seen maps from ancient Mesopotamia. Still, none of them could have had such detail as is seen on your map. No one had yet ventured across the Atlantic Ocean in that time period.”

  “Are you sure you can’t identify the two other names?” asked Maclean.

  “One looks to be Indian, and the other Chinese. Unfortunately, I’ve never come across their names while doing my research into ancient cartography.”

  “Can you tell us any more about Hesperos?”

  “When Alexander died, Hesperos accompanied Ptolemy back to Egypt and was instrumental in helping establish what would eventually become the Royal Library of Alexandria. I’ve read some of his works and seen a couple of his maps of the known world but have never come across anything resembling your map.”

  “Perhaps his maps of the ancient world were destroyed when the Romans burnt down the library in 48 BCE?” suggested Hayes.

  “Or it was hidden away for safekeeping in Libya and lost with all the other scrolls when the cave collapsed,” said Maclean.

  “We’ll never know either way if everything in the cave was destroyed during the cave-in,” Gabrielle said glumly.

  Hayes pointed at Antarctica. “Does this writing look familiar to you?”

  Gabrielle shook her head. “No, not at all. It looks like some form of ancient hieroglyphs, but I’ve never come across this style of writing before.”

  “Do you think it could be an elaborate forgery?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time that scholars have fallen for a hoax. Someone could have found some ancient papyrus and made this map in the sixteenth or seventeenth century, when the European powers were regularly sailing to and from the new world.”

  Maclean held up his hands in a T. “Time out, folks. Why would someone go to all that trouble to make a fake map and then include an accurate depiction of a somewhat ice-free Antarctica on it, when it hadn’t been discovered yet?”

  “You have a point there,” said Gabrielle. “Perhaps it’s a newer creation. Someone today with access to images of Antarctica without any ice on it could have made the map.”

  “Why? It doesn’t make any sense to make a fake map and then hide it among a treasure trove of ancient scrolls.” Maclean looked at Hayes. “Jeremy, tell her about the other scro
lls we managed to save.”

  “What other scrolls?” asked Gabrielle.

  “There were five other scrolls, which contained information on the people who lived in the region of the Upper Nile during the same period.”

  “What was on them?”

  “Administrative data on taxes, records of marriages, births, and deaths.”

  “Fascinating. I’d love to read them, if you’d give me the chance.”

  “I don’t see why you couldn’t.”

  Gabrielle sat back in her chair and looked thoughtfully from Hayes to Maclean. “I don’t mean to pry, but what were you doing in that cave? Sergeant Maclean doesn’t look like an archaeologist, and Jeremy, I know how much you detest fieldwork. So, what gives?”

  Maclean grinned. “Over to you, Professor.”

  Hayes squirmed on his chair. “Gabrielle, I can’t answer your question. Nor can Sergeant Maclean. Trust me when I say that what we do is in your—well, in all of our nations’—best interests.”

  Gabrielle raised an eyebrow. “This is getting serious. You guys don’t work for the CIA, do you?”

  Maclean fought to stifle a chuckle. “No, we most assuredly don’t. We both work for the U.S. Department of Defense.”

  “I suppose that’s as good an answer as I’m likely to get.”

  “Gabrielle, I think the map is authentic,” said Maclean. “But I can see in your face that you have serious reservations about it. Is there anyone you know who could determine if this is a forgery or not?”

  “Yes, I think so,” she replied, getting carefully out of her chair. Gabrielle returned with her cell phone and skimmed through her contact list. “How quickly do you need this done?”

  “By yesterday.”

  “That fast, huh? Well, I can’t guarantee you’ll get results that would stand up in a court of law, but I have someone in mind who might be able to give you an answer.”

  “Can we rely on this person to be discreet?” asked Hayes.