"Yeah, yeah. If you fail, it's up to me. Again."
Caleb hung up, then dropped the phone on the street as he entered the cab. As soon as they realized Nina was gone, they'd be looking for him. And with the twins' ability to find him, he didn't want to make it any easier by letting them track her phone. He told the driver where to go, then settled back, hoping to close his eyes, rest and let his visions seek out some possible solutions.
5.
Alexander tried hard to focus, to do everything his father had told him. To just think about the computer and his responsibility, but it was difficult. So hard to concentrate down here in the dark. With the priceless books and scrolls and tablets, most of them ruined. With the darkness and the shadows.
With the dead.
He couldn't keep his mind on the task of sorting through the computer files. Clicking on folder after folder, trying to find something useful without even knowing what he was looking for. Worse than a needle in a haystack, because half the time these files just opened scanned photos of the original texts, which then had notes written in Greek or Coptic—languages Alexander was still not proficient with to say the least.
He was beginning to panic. The air felt thinner after every minute. The shadows deeper. The flashlight light a little fainter. Finally he turned it off and just focused on the computer screen, and tried to imagine he was home in his room in the dark. Nothing else but his familiar bed and books around him in the dark. Just those, and his computer.
And it worked, and he relaxed and started to make some progress.
-Until he heard the rumbling from above.
Oh no. He trembled and his mouth went completely dry. The drill.
He was going to have to kick this into gear. Come on, you're a Keeper now. He had to find the answer, finish his mission. For his father. For the Morpheus Initiative, for the memory of all the Keepers lost today. He couldn't let them down. But he needed to improvise. The computer search route wasn't working. It was time for another tactic. One that had to work, and fast.
They're coming.
#
He shut the laptop's cover and sat in darkness with his eyes closed. Ignoring the rumbling from above, ignoring the dust filtering through the gaps in the ceiling and coating his head like falling snow, he focused on the target. It was a vague objective, but hopefully something his subconscious could latch onto if it went fishing around in a murky pond with a hook the size of a bazooka.
Think! Rashi had found something in the recovered library. Something big, something she shared with the others. All of them except Dad.
Think!
And suddenly, a nibble. Something jerked in his mind, a vibration rattling his mind. And then he saw–
Lydia. His mother, hunched over the central table, looking through a large magnifying lens at an intact rectangular stone slab with odd writing all over it. Keepers Rashi and Hideki standing behind her, anticipating her reaction.
"This is it," Lydia whispers. "The Rongo-Rongo script. Its first translation into Sumerian. This is…" Her face pulls back from the glass, and her eyes are beaming, her expression numinous. "This is everything."
"Yes," Rashi says, "we now have a cipher we can use to decipher the writings at Harrapan and Mohenjo-Daro."
"And these others," Hideki adds, motioning toward a table full of rough-edged tablets, some looking incredibly ancient.
Lydia's smile matches theirs. "Robert will be so pleased!"
Rashi nods. "He's been searching for this translation for years."
"He hoped it would be in the collection," Lydia says. "You know Robert, he believes in all that pre-historical civilization stuff, that some great race was wiped out or went into hiding before our current recorded history, and that maybe this script was their only legacy."
"If we could only translate it," Rashi muses with a smile. "Which is now possible. So, are you going to tell Caleb?"
Lydia glances to the pile of waiting tablets. "Not yet. Let's see what we learn. He's not coming back for another four months. Let's see what we can translate first. And if there's anything he needs to know, we'll decide at that point. For all we know, this will just be gibberish, or maybe a list of holidays and crop yields or something."
"You don't believe that," Hideki says. "If that were the case, these pieces wouldn't have been safeguarded in the most secret vault on the planet."
Lydia sighs. "True. But still, let's be extra careful about what we translate. This could be the biggest revelation yet, in all these texts. Explosive knowledge that could have damning results for the whole planet."
A bitter blackness suddenly replaced everything, leaving Alexander in a near whimper, longing to stay by his mother's side. At once he crumpled over, nearing tears, reaching with his mind to get back there. To see her again, to see–
- her typing furiously at the computer. Alone in the chamber. The packed alcoves surrounding her on the rounded walls, all those priceless scrolls and texts crafted by ancient hands while her own fingers deftly move across the keyboard. Her lips silently spell out the words as she translates from the latest tablet and types.
The view moves closer and Lydia pauses, trembling, glancing around.
"Caleb?"
She backs up in the chair, moves her head back and forth, her eyes closed, as if seeking a scent. Then she shakes her head and returns to the screen. "Sometimes I get these feelings… Like you're looking in on me from another time and place. Maybe I'm just being paranoid."
She sighs, opens her eyes and looks intently around the room. Up at the ceiling, around the silent and deep alcoves. "If it is you," she whispers, "just know that I did this for you, and for Alexander. I'm hiding what we've found, because if you discovered it you'd mobilize your little group and go out hunting these… people. I know you would. And you're not ready, oh god Caleb… what I've learned…"
Her shoulders tremble. "Don't… just don't go after them. Don't even look for them. Because they'll know. Please, for Alexander's sake. For all our sakes. If you somehow find this, just leave them alone. If you can. Unless… it's unavoidable."
She moves the mouse to close out the file she's been working on—and just before it disappears, the name is visible:
"Custodians." Alexander opened his eyes and in the darkness he fumbled for the flashlight switch, found it and in the burning brilliance, he returned to the computer.
"Okay," he said, over the increasing volume of the drills coming closer. "Let's find where mom's hidden you, and what all the fuss is about."
6.
Mount Shasta, Washington State
They landed at the small airport outside of McCloud, near the base of the majestic, snow-capped Mount Shasta, then assembled into two jeeps that proceeded through the picturesque town at speeds Phoebe thought bordered on criminal, not to mention obviously attention-grabbing, at a time when she expected they'd want to keep a low profile. The lovely town instantly tugged at her heart, and she squeezed Orlando's hand. He was smiling at the scenery, the quaint shops, restaurants and inns at this resort town, reminiscent of the old gold rush period, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing: that when this was all over, maybe they could get away and come out here for a romantic vacation.
Aria sat in the back with her father, who seemed to be recovering nicely, but was still in and out of consciousness. She watched with wide eyes, taking in the lush forests of pine, the variety in the colors of the leaves, the grass and brush. But always her attention was drawn to the great mountain, the ice and snow covering most of its surface up to the dazzling white peak. Phoebe could only imagine what the girl was experiencing, having lived her whole life in the dry desert.
With the town behind them, the road narrowed and they traveled for a while in silence, with Colonel Temple at the wheel, his mirrored sunglasses covering any sign of emotion. A few more minutes and they turned onto a bumpier trail where the alpine woods closed in and scraped against their windows as they moved into Shasta's shadow. Soon, NO T
RESSPASSING signs began to appear, and their ears popped as they began to climb.
But it wasn't much longer before they stopped, coming to a high metal fence manned by two camouflaged men with heavy rifles. A nod from Temple, who showed them a pass, and they were through.
A rectangular two-story windowless building stood under a canopy of trees against the base of a steep rocky incline. A half-dozen satellite dishes of various sizes pointed through one clear section to the blue sky.
"That's it?" Orlando asked, stepping out of the jeep and stretching.
Temple chuckled. "Give us a little credit. We may not have unlimited funds, but we've got enough for a little luxury. This is just one of our redundant communication sites." He was smiling as he reached into his suit coat pocket and pulled out a small transmitter. He pointed it at a flat wall of the mountainside, and moments later a doorway appeared. Two sides split open and parted, revealing a tunnel, and a globe-shaped silver car on a set of tracks.
Temple removed his sunglasses And said, in a business-like tone, "Welcome to Stargate."
#
After the doors closed and they were all situated around the surprisingly roomy interior, the tram moved them along at a more-than-leisurely pace that made Orlando compare it to the New York subway system. Except the view out the convex windows was less interesting: just occasional dull lamps revealing little beyond what one would expect inside a tunnel burrowed into a mountain.
"Alexander would love this," he said to Phoebe. "Reminds me of the villain's secret lair inside that volcano in The Incredibles."
Temple heard him and smiled. "Not the vibe we were going for, but secrecy is vital. And anyway…"
Aria's eyes widened. "You didn't build this tunnel! You found it here." She was sitting on her father's lap, his arms around her waist protectively.
"What?" Phoebe stared at the girl. "You saw that?"
Aria pressed her little fingers against the glass window. "They found it, using their psychics."
"Following up on native American legends about a race living within the mountain," Temple added. "And… rather sensational reports through the years. Prospectors, climbers, explorers… tall tales of robed men and women appearing from the caverns, speaking enigmatically and then disappearing. Strange lights at night. Weird craft-shaped objects coming and going…"
"A regular UFO hotspot," Orlando said, then shrugged. "At least according to Coast to Coast AM Radio."
Phoebe leaned across the aisle toward Aria, and looked out the window at the lights passing in the darkness. "What else did you see?"
The girl closed her eyes. "I saw… I see… that where we're going… it's one big hollowed out cavern that they've made into their headquarters. But there's something, some place they can't get into. They wanted to get further, but there's a door of some kind."
Temple nodded. "A barrier, black, solid and thick. The Dove had been having visions of it for years."
"But never," Aria added, "seeing anything behind it. Only blue."
"Correct. Apparently they let us get this far, but no further."
The tram was slowing, and brighter lights appeared.
Orlando frowned. "So there's a door. Couldn't you bust through? Or drill around it?"
Temple smiled. "Course we tried. But any machinery that got within twenty feet suddenly died. EMP field of some kind, protecting it. Tried manually digging around, but whoever we sent to do it came back… the only word I can say is... 'befuddled'. As if their brains were temporarily scrambled. They had no idea what they were there to do, or even where they were, and it took hours for the memories to clear. So no, we can't get through."
"Hmmm," said Phoebe. "Sounds like you were invited to a party, but then denied entrance at the front door."
"That's about the way we saw it," Temple replied. "But we didn't take offense. Instead, I'm thinking maybe this is their way of testing us, observing us first. Seeing if we're worthy to get inside to the big dance."
"How long has it been?" Orlando asked. "That you've been tested?"
"Four years, give or take."
Phoebe whistled. "Maybe it's not a test."
"What do you mean?" Temple cocked his head. And for the first time, his voice didn't sound so confident.
She shrugged. "Maybe you're just meant to be close. All of us in one spot…"
"So it's easier to wipe us out," Orlando finished.
Temple was about to say something when the interior suddenly got a lot brighter. The walls of the tunnel gave way and their tram hurtled above an enormous open space. They hugged the stalactite-covered roof, racing along a monorail track that circled the mile-wide facility, looking down on a complex of rectangular buildings, pathways and plains. Pipes and wires ran along the sides of the elliptical cavern, with pathways laid out in concentric circular grids. Giant floodlights stood at regular intervals, and the track angled toward one pyramid-shaped glass building that stood fifty feet above the others.
"Central command," Temple pointed. "Where we're headed. Where you'll meet the team."
"And the diabolical super villain in charge," Orlando mused.
"That would be me," Temple said with a grin as they began to slow down. "Now, get ready for some revelations that are really going to blow your mind."
#
Inside the sparkling glass-walled command center, the tram stopped at a level lit up by major lights diffusing through the windows. Looking up, the walls converged at a point where another huge circular light hung, giving the whole area a feel of being inside the luxurious lobby of an ostentatious hotel. There were three fountains and a waterfall, nestled inside a park-like area with large palm trees and lush flowering bushes. Multicolored birds flew about, chirping and singing. There were rounded picnic tables, benches set alone in shaded areas where people sat and appeared to be meditation, or just sleeping.
"You'll have time to enjoy the scenery later," Temple said, urging them along. He headed toward an elevator set in a rectangular, ivy-covered central pillar. "We're needed down below."
They followed, Aria and Phoebe first, then Orlando who pushed Aria's father in a wheelchair. The doors closed and they descended quickly in a sealed car. "I'd have expected glass walls," Orlando said. "No view?"
Temple shook his head. "These levels are largely private. We have twenty-seven psychics at work down here, along with a staff of sixty to maintain the complex, cook the food, run information searches and gather real-world intelligence. That all happens on levels four and five. The psychics, they're down on six."
"In the basement," Orlando commented. "Where we belong."
Phoebe jabbed him. "Okay, so what's the plan? We meet everyone, and then what? We've got to help Caleb and Alexander, and stop..."
"The end of the world, yes. All in time." The doors opened and Temple led them out into a much different setting. Soft lights, mahogany walls, dark carpeting. Leather couches, gold-framed maps on the walls: ancient-looking maps of the world, depictions of the stars and planets from the Middle Ages.
Orlando whistled as he rolled Brian Greenmeyer forward.
"Leave me here," the man whispered. "Tired, and this looks like a good place to rest."
"Dad?" Aria turned around. She still held Phoebe's hand.
"I'm not worried," he said. "You're with good people."
A thin, matronly woman stood up from a desk in the dark corner and took the wheelchair handles from Orlando. "I'll watch over him now, get him a drink and some food."
"Thanks, Laurie," Temple said. He gripped the doorknobs and opened the two large oak doors, and then they were passing through a long hallway lit by what looked like turn-of-the-century gaslights set in bronze gargoyle sconces.
"What's behind all these doors?" Phoebe wondered, looking ahead and losing count until the distant end of the corridor.
Temple paused at the first one. "Okay, a little off the main tour, but I'll show you. These are our 'contemplation chambers.' Each a little different. Décor suited to the
objective."
"What objective?" Orlando asked.
Temple put a finger to his lips and quietly pushed open the door.
Inside were three people sitting in large bean bags, each a different color. They wore sleeping masks and seemed to be dozing… except for the pads of paper and pencils in their hands. Around the walls were hung photographs—aerial maps of mountain ranges and coastal regions, geological studies that seemed to center around fault lines running across the ocean beds and highlighting volcanic areas.
Temple eased the door shut. "We have them solely focused on natural disasters. Trying to predict the next ones, probing likely hot spots."
"And if you get a credible hit?" Orlando asked.
"We quietly leak it to the geological community and do what we can do evacuate ahead of the event. But…"
"You haven't had much luck yet?" Phoebe asked.
"Not as such. Close, but timing's always a bit off. Sometimes they can't tell whether it's weeks or days, or in a couple regrettable instances, only minutes away. We're working on refining the techniques. And we hope, maybe with your help, to improve our results. But first things first, or there won't be any need for any of this."
"What's in here?" Orlando asked, reaching for the next door.
Temple grasped his wrist just as he turned the knob and the door opened a crack. "Leave that one alone." He closed it gently, but not before Orlando got a glimpse of two older women, dressed as gypsies, standing before a glowing globe with their hands out and their eyes closed.
"Was that the moon?"
Temple sighed. "Yes, but the less you see of that, the better. We try to keep them alone and what they're working on secret. We even have a shield permanently blocking that room, since it could cause the most alarm if certain elements determined what they were looking for."
"Which is?" Orlando clenched his hands into fists. "Let's get on with it. Get to the good stuff." He pointed to the door. "I want in there."
"Soon." Temple ushered them along, speaking as a tour guide without opening any more doors. "In here we've got a rather gifted, if unfocused, talent looking for other candidates across the world who have demonstrated precognitive abilities. In this next room we've got four siblings, ages twelve through twenty seven, who together seem to share the same visions. We've got them probing certain historical events, trying to piece together what really happened to colonies—or whole cities—that went missing. Roanoke. Mayan centers, Pueblo towns… We have a list." He slowed near the end of the corridor, passing two more doors. "Here we've got our largest room, a testing facility for new members. We put them through a series of blind objectives and gauge what they seem to be best at."
The Cydonia Objective (Morpheus Initiative 03) Page 15