The Fifth Codex

by J. A. Ginegaw

  “Well,” she says in the midst of a deep breath, “I suppose what Admiral Vanderbilt does not know won’t kill him.”

  Dr. Kirwood dumps into my hand a few medications I already have plenty of and sends me on my way. Out of the infirmary quicker than I had initially feared, a great sense of relief sweeps over me. Starting to feel the effects of my concussion, I carefully walk back to my barracks.

  Once inside, I take a double dose of pills Dr. Kirwood had given me and hurriedly rip off my suit. After a star-crossed stare, I place the newfound twin gem in a portable vault, remove my contacts, throw on some clothes, and pocket the gem I brought to Antarctica. Ready to step out, I snag another pair of darkened sunglasses, push them onto my somewhat dizzy head, and make for the CIC. The time now a little past 1530 hours, once the door opens, I barge through.

  “Where is it, where’s the codex?” I growl as if a rabid animal in search of its next victim – there it is! And even better, two of my men, retired Navy SEALs sporting active duty stares, stand guard on each side of it. The Admiral and three of the four scientists present (Korzhak is not among them); I caress the striking cover with twitching, eager fingers. “It’s here,” I gush more than once.

  Five massive rings of a rectangular shape with rounded corners bind the Sapien Codex together. The other codices contain about 200 thin copper plates each; this one enormous – it looks to have easily three, maybe even four times as many! Now outside the vault and in decent light, the codex appears even taller than when I had first seen it. For many moments, I simply stand and stare at our glorious find. In good company, the others stare with me. Its cover almost identical to the covering atop each of the four codices I already possess, only the slightly larger Sapien engraving at the top of this codex’s raised circle is different.

  And those all too familiar differently colored eyes, of course.

  Dutifully waiting until I approach them, the two Navy SEALs and I share warm embraces. My eyes then fix again upon the rescued codex as they resume guarding it. The medicine for my concussion finally kicks in and my mind begins to clear.

  “I can almost read your thoughts,” I tease. I point to the mix of elegant script and handsome hieroglyphs that run around the upper half of the raised circle of gold. “Would you like to know what it says?”

  “You can already translate the texts?” Dr. Saddlebirch asks in shock.

  “Yes and no – I have my ways,” I answer slyly as I both shake and nod my head. “You will soon see how, but of what I can decipher is very limited.”

  As a confused look seeps into the cowboy’s face, Alistair and Alfred eagerly nod their heads. Admiral Vanderbilt simply smiles as he strolls passed us and toward the panel controlling the door.

  “Wait! Wait! I want to see it too!” Dr. Korzhak yelps as he barrels into the CIC. More excited than I have yet to see him – actually more than I ever thought possible – he smiles brightly as he squeezes himself into our beholden half-circle. He too takes a good many moments to touch and admire the codex.

  As if by some miracle, this happy soul has replaced the grumpy old man!

  “It says,” I begin once the Admiral joins us, “‘I am the Sapien historical codex. Inside my golden cover and scribed upon my copper plates, I tell the story of Sapiens and our beloved homeland. The oldest of five, I am the first sister to four siblings – another sister and three brothers. A wise mind and our kin at your side … unlock my secrets.’”

  A different version of ‘Wow …’ escapes four mouths as I step back. Dr. Saddlebirch, however, appears to be more deep in thought than awed.

  “Wow, indeed” I gasp back. “As for how I know the meaning of these symbols, it is only because most of the same is repeated on the other four codices. Once past the cover, I am lost.”

  Dr. Ravensdale points directly at the Sapien engraving. “The gems for eyes – one blue, one orange – did every one of these ancients have this heterochromia?”

  “Or a single infamous one,” I say cryptically with darting eyes.

  “Either way, we have found it, my friends,” Dr. Leitz proclaims. “The fifth and final codex now ours, we stand on the precipice of unknown history. It is quite possible once we unlock its secrets – as it pleads with us to do – that what it reveals will rewrite nearly every historical text ever written. And if so, may redefine how we came to be and who we truly are. Even more, could what these codices reveal offer a glimpse as to where we might go next?”

  I let a long pause pass. As if they slowly realize I will taunt them even more than did Alfred, each turns in my direction one by one. A devilish smile to match my playful eyes foreshadows a question I know they greatly wish for me to ask.

  “As for the kin it speaks of, would you like to meet them?” Begging by way of bobbing heads, pleas through wide, wondrous eyes, and groveling twitchy fingers – “Oh goodness, look at the time!” It is 1545. “And just before I die of hunger too. Afternoon tea is on its way!”

  A near riot ready to erupt within seconds of me saying this, Admiral Vanderbilt swiftly squelches it. “The other codices are on their way too,” he announces in a commanding tone. “Into the conference room if you wish to make their acquaintance!”

  Opened by Alistair from the inside, café trolleys pass through the doors, into the CIC, and toward the conference room. The six of us gather behind to follow them in.

  “Quaint sandwiches, tea, biscuits – oh, and look: choco milk and cookies for the Americans!”

  Aside from Dr. Saddlebirch, everyone laughs politely at my tease. The other scientists near soar into the conference room on the wings of glory-riddled joy. Saddlebirch, on the other hand, does not appear to take much delight in our discovery. As I watch him mope into the large rectangular room with short, suspicious steps, delight seems to be the last thing on his mind.

  Dr. Korzhak and Dr. Leitz have completed their duties for the most part. I fully expect a successful translation of the codices to lead to many questions of just how such a world could come to be. For answers only he can give us, we will lean heavily on Dr. Ravensdale’s insight. Admiral Vanderbilt’s task as our leader is to keep us all on the same page. And then there is the wildcard in this gathered brilliance: Chance Saddlebirch. More than any of the others, I now need our gifted cowboy most. Somehow, someway, I have to find a way to bring Saddlebirch to my side. I reach into my pocket and repeatedly rub my blood red gem.

  Perhaps this soothing motion will tell me how to do so.

  The far end of the CIC branches off into two separate rooms. The conference room opens to the right and a mostly empty space, nearly as large, is to the left. The two Navy SEALs still standing watch over the Sapien Codex; another four of my men are now on their way with the other four codices. While one SAS soldier works to set up my equipment in the near empty room, a French Legionnaire – the youngest of the eight – helps me in the conference area. As for my readied presentation upon finding the fifth codex many years in the making, the time I need to give it will be short. After a few minutes of setup, the Legionnaire helping me departs.

  A four meter long richly colored wood table with a reflective surface dominates the well-lit conference room. This table easily spans two meters across. Strewn out atop it sits digital tablets and other gadgets. High backed leather chairs, six of them in total, await our bottoms. Five will receive them. Admiral Vanderbilt sits at the short end of the table closest to the door; I stand just behind him. To his left sits Dr. Korzhak and Dr. Saddlebirch. To his right, Dr. Ravensdale and Dr. Leitz. Everyone in place, our hungry bellies tear into an afternoon teatime that cannot end quickly enough. Teatime finished, those who brought in our afternoon delights whisk the dishes away, and an eerie silence replaces the clattering of cups, dishes, and spoons.

  Those seated take turns looking around the room and then at each other. No one yet to say a word, but all most likely thinking of something worth saying – my men arrive. Led by Major Sinclair, another SAS soldier and two Legionnaires enter
the conference room. They wear their dashing dress uniforms – the Admiral’s idea – complete with berets and gloves. And they are not alone. Each well-dressed man pushes a wheeled vault chest high and parks his alongside one of the four scientists. Next, the farthest man from me and on each side takes a step toward the vault closest to me. One soldier stationed on each side of the two closest vaults, all four snap to attention.

  “Enter initial access codes!” Major Sinclair orders.

  Each soldier removes a single glove and types his access code into a digital keyboard on either end of the two vaults. From what I can tell, the scientists sit too low to notice the encrypted code displays. With a whirring sound, pneumatic rush of air, and titanium locks unlocking, the top of each vault opens into two halves. The two pairs of soldiers then withdraw yet another vault and set these down onto the conference table. The two smaller vaults shiny and handsome, they are downright ugly in comparison to what each keeps safe.

  “Enter secondary access codes!”

  These smaller vaults have only a single small keyboard and digital screen. This second set of codes entered, my four soldiers move on to the vault farthest from me on each side and do the same. With the utmost precision and professionalism, of course.

  “Dr. Rothschild! Each vault is now ready for your access codes. Enter them into your tablet when ready.” Major Sinclair does not really have to tell me this, but it is good form to do so, nevertheless.

  Once I enter the code for each, one vault after the other emits a series of piercing clicks and clacks. With a final release of forced out air, the four codices are ready to be unveiled. Each soldier removes the now open top of these smaller vaults. As if an impossible dish served on a silver platter in an unbelievable manner … there they are.

  The scientists gasp in amazement as a gleaming codex glimmers in front of each of them. Although barely audible, even Dr. Saddlebirch lets out a small gasp of his own. Before they have the chance to finish gasping and begin grasping, each of my men lays down a pair of silk gloves next to the scientist closest to him. The four codices delivered flawlessly, my soldiers march out of the conference room.

  “Please put on these silk gloves, my friends,” I more command than ask. “We just had the codices polished.”

  Each obediently does as told. Eyes larger than the saucers that had held our late afternoon tea gawk downward and gloved hands touch the codices as if they are fragile. Faint whispers of disbelief shake the room with the hope that a world we have searched so hard to step into is finally at our feet.

  I lower the projection screen and dim the lights. No one aside from Admiral Vanderbilt appears to notice. With my digital tablet, I remotely point the projector stick hanging from the ceiling into place and turn it on. A beam of light shoots out from the projector stick and all attention properly falls on me.

  “Now,” I say cheerily, “let’s get started. Five priceless pieces of unknown history revealed – if this does not shock the senses, then nothing will. Stored in secret and escorted to Antarctica by me and my men, we are the guardians of these four – now five – codices.”

  The stunned quartet of scientists peek down again before looking back up at me.

  “Their collection was in no way by accident,” I continue, “but very deliberate. As the keeper of these codices, I will tell you of four secrets only I know. A select few have been told of one, even two of these secrets, but only I know them all.” I take in a deep breath and slowly exhale. “Welcome, gentlemen … my world now yours as well – hold onto your knickers.”

  I do not witness actual gripping of knickers, but a few hands do slide downward. With a nod toward the projection screen and their eyes obeying, I press on.

  “The secrets I promise to reveal are of how each codex now before you fell into my very greedy, very wanting hands. I will start with the tale of how my family came to own the first codex and finish with the finding of the last of the four.”

  I tap the screen of my digital tablet and the first slide comes into view.

  “The one you see onscreen is my personal favorite: the Mermaid Codex. My best guess along with those of a few others is that Welsh nobles recovered it sometime between AD 1000 and AD 1400. The time somewhat uncertain but the location known, they found the codex at a prehistoric site we all know well: Stonehenge. In the early 1800’s, the House of Rothschild was instrumental in helping the British crown defeat the French during the Napoleonic Wars. The wars over and Napoleon dispatched; Nathan Rothschild desired from Queen Victoria just one treasure in return – this codex. The Crown had held it in secret since first found; the House of Rothschild has kept it hidden ever since.”

  With another tap, the next slide shows not a codex, but a grey and black hulking beast the size of a small auto. In an effort to soothe their spinning minds, whispers from my fellow scientists swiftly follow.

  “This handsome fellow is an Arachna Majora. Appearing much like a giant tarantula, but with the two massive eyes of a jumping spider, his codex’s story is next. Since its construction, and possibly the reason for it, the Forbidden City in Beijing, China kept the Arachna Majora Codex safe. This lasted from the 15th century until 1860. The Second Opium War saw to its removal and again a codex made its way not into my family, but that of Vanderbilt.”

  Sudden gasps and stunned eyes launch straight for the good Admiral. As if he has already foreseen this, his grandfatherly grin instantly disables these harmless weapons heading his way.

  “Sadly,” I continue, “we know little concerning the details of its arrival, what price others paid, or how many died trying to keep or hide it. We only know that, since 1902, the House of Vanderbilt has enjoyed sole possession.”

  The next slide I choose is of the Centaur Codex. More gasps, more stunned looks – I very much enjoy giving this covert history lesson. Until now, I felt as if the years of keeping these tales only I knew the full extent of had pulled me into a realm of loneliness few could understand and none would want. The sole steward of these secrets no longer, a sudden, thankful sense of relief sweeps over me.

  “The Centaurs are next. In 1931, Marino Gomez busily began the excavation of one of Mexico’s most famous sites. It was here where a young American archeologist assisting him found the Centaur Codex. This American, along with another thief, smuggled the codex to the edge of Mexico’s northern border, and in the blink of an eye, the Great Pyramid of Cholula lost its most striking artifact. Soon after, the Mexican government ‘stole’ it back by way of firing squad. After spies confirmed the government was desperate for money, Frederick Vanderbilt purchased the codex from the indebted Mexicans. In secret, of course. Books detailing how the Vanderbilt family squandered its fortune tall enough to reach into the heavens – they are all wrong. I will not bore you with the exact amount, but the vast majority of the Vanderbilt fortune was indeed the price paid. The fortune gone, yes, but squandered it was not.”

  With a final tap to my tablet screen, I reveal the most fearsome creature of our fascinating foursome.

  “The last codex is that of the Gryphons. Recovered rather recently from the Great Pyramid at Giza; it was not found, however, where most would guess. In 1992, scientists found a door inside the Queen’s Chamber blocking a shaft. A sweeping event, networks televised the opening of this door to audiences around the world. And millions tuned in. The world watched a robot fail while a select few German and Egyptian archeologists saw discovery triumph. None other than our dear Dr. Leitz led that German expedition. The Gryphon Codex taken from its tomb, it would not stay safe for long. The Arab Spring of 2011 – hopes for democracy soon to become more oppression set Egypt ablaze. Upon the overthrow of the government and the Gryphon Codex in great peril, Alfred called me in desperation. My soldiers and I departed for Cairo within a few hours of this call, found our chance under the cover of dark and disorder, and rightly took it. In the depths of that lawless mess, we rescued from Egypt its most ––”

  “Stole from Egypt, I think you mean,�
� Saddlebirch interrupts in a loud voice as if he is the class bully. “If by chance you are looking for a more fitting word – just in case.”

  I do not care for him much, but how this American speaks fascinates me. When Saddlebirch unleashes his quick, biting wit, he gains the uncanny ability to mask his usual southern drawl. Joining the group scowl with the others in his direction, I say nothing in response and hurriedly finish my presentation.

  “As I already had one, to gain possession of this second codex was the easy part. The Arachna Majora and Centaur ones, however, were much more difficult to come by. After a good deal of reconnaissance and drawing up a master plan, I executed my scheme – flawlessly of course – and married Admiral Vanderbilt’s grandson last year.” The Admiral chuckles at this. “This is how I now possess the other two codices I did not have already. Two plus two plus the one we found today … our work can finally begin.”

  Chapter Seven

  CONVINCING OUR DOUBTING

  THOMAS

  I turn off the projector stick, increase the light once more, and allow a long pause to pass. Three scientists sport gaping mouths as if bewildered codfish. One, of course, does not.

  As Saddlebirch runs his doubting eyes over me, I can feel him attempt to size up both my motivations and me. Aside from his single outburst, he has spent much of the time appearing as if deep in thought. Thought that now breaks the silence with a slow, drawn out giggle. This giggle then becomes outright laughter. Finally able to contain this gurgling idiocy, words spill out from the goofy grin Chance’s laughs leave behind.

  “Okay ma’am, let me get this straight. First, we have this huge codex covered in gold with what I guess has to be close to a thousand copper plates inside it. Buried under more than a mile of solid ice most believe has been in that exact same spot for millions of years – I don’t think so. Second, we have four more of these codices, but written by mythical creatures that do not, nor did ever, exist. And to top it all off, they were scattered and hidden in some of the most famous historical sites from around the world? Come on now – really?”