The Cydonia Objective (Morpheus Initiative 03)

by David Sakmyster

  "What the hell are you doing?"

  "Shut up, and follow me. We've got no time to argue."

  "I'm not going anywhere with you. This…" He raised the bar, "Isn't going anywhere."

  Nina stopped after taking one step up the next flight. Her grip was fierce, and yet intimate. "Caleb. You touched me, and I saw…" Her eyes faltered, the cold melting away.

  "What?"

  "I'm probably going to get killed for this, but I'm going to help you. Because I believe what I saw in your vision."

  Caleb narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, well I still don't trust you."

  "And also, because if that bastard thinks he can keep my—our kids—from me for all those years, and then act like a hero for reuniting us, he's got another thing coming. I was only biding my time until I could shoot him in the back of the head, but you've shown me that if he gets his hands on this thing, then it's all over and I won't have my chance."

  Caleb squeezed back. "Okay, but…"

  "Shut up and stop thinking for a minute. Come on, they're coming."

  He chased after her, still dragged along by the hand. "Where are we going?"

  They burst out into the now familiar floor, the start of the climb. Not again, he thought, rushing up the steps behind her. He glanced back and saw the crossword-loving Dan Brown fan smiling up at them, nodding his appreciation of their reunion. Nina let his hand go and tapped at a device set in her ear. She muttered something lost in the pounding of their feet on the stairs.

  Up two more flights, and then–

  Gunfire roared and echoed back and forth inside the stairwell. Something struck the underside of the platform below his running feet. Another shot punched through the wall to his left. Nina squeezed off two blind rounds, hoping to slow them down.

  "Calderon's men," she yelled back. "My escorts. Must've realized I turned on them."

  "Or maybe," Caleb said, wheezing. "They got new intel. From the twins."

  "Cocky kids, Caleb." She flashed him the start of a smile. "And creepy. Definitely missed out on years of discipline."

  "Something to remedy if we make it out alive." He leapt up three stairs to catch up. They were nearing the pedestal top, and he could hear the rain and rumbling thunder, broken by another gunshot that went wild. "And how exactly are we getting out?" He stopped at the top of the stairs, doubled over and feeling the start of a cramp.

  But his attention remained fixed on the view out of the tunnel to the exterior, where he saw something that wasn't there before.

  "Is that a ladder?"

  Nina turned back and hauled him up by his sleeve. "Helicopter. Pilot's loyal to me. Had him circling. Then just told him where we'd be coming out."

  "Wait. I am not–"

  Another gunshot, one that cracked the glass around the elevator cage. Calderon's men were right around the bend.

  He took off, passing Nina who had dropped to a knee and squeezed off three more rounds, one striking home as the first man ran into view.

  Heading for that shaking ladder, he couldn't tell if it was on this side of the balustrade or outside, with one hundred and fifty feet separating it from the base. He started to slow down just as he hit the rain, but then felt a hand on the back of his shirt, drawing him backwards, slowing his momentum, and then she was sling-shotting past him. She had hooked her gun under her belt, and like a gymnast, used her hands to vault up onto the slick stone wall and still in a crouch, she pushed off.

  Nina launched, swan-like, into the air just as a lightning bolt ripped across the gray-black clouds. She caught the ladder, swung all the way out and then back, gripping it with one hand and using her weight and momentum to propel it back, right to the edge of the wall…

  Where Caleb, seeing her intention and realizing he only had one chance at this, vaulted up as she did—and then just reached out and grabbed the rungs beneath her. He hooked an elbow around one rung, and his knees around another, leaving his left hand free to grip the bar and his prize.

  Two gunshots roared in his ears, Nina firing on the men who darted into the passage. But Caleb couldn't look to see the result. The helicopter swung away, and he was soaring out into space, pelted with stinging missiles of rain, completely drenched and hanging precipitously to a slippery ladder far above the ground. Then they were over the churning waves.

  And only later did he realize he was laughing, his emotions overwhelmed. He looked up, seeing Nina climb into the helicopter, and then he raised the metal shaft, shaking it victoriously in defiance of the lightning-rippled storm.

  11.

  Mount Shasta—Stargate Facility

  "Two space programs?" Orlando asked. "You mean us and the Russians?"

  "No, I mean a public one and a secret program. The Russians," Diana said, "were in on it. We may have been Cold War enemies to all other purposes, but once the early probes got out there, once the Russians shared with us what they found on the far side, well… after that point we were really all on the same side."

  "Just not as far as the public knew," Temple said. "Tell them about the Brookings Report."

  Diana nodded. "The Brookings Institution, a Washington DC think-tank, put together a report entitled The Proposed Studies on the Implications of Peaceful Space Activities for Human Affairs, commissioned by NASA and delivered to Congress in 1961. It talks about the need for research into a lot of areas of space exploration, but the explosive section that has gained the most attention is the part called Implications of a discovery of extraterrestrial life." She took a breath, then turned to her notebook and read a passage. "Page two-fifteen. While face-to-face meetings with intelligent extraterrestrial life will not occur within the next 20 years (unless its technology is more advanced than ours, qualifying it to visit Earth), artifacts left at some point in time by these life forms might possibly be discovered through our space activities on the moon, Mars, or Venus."

  "Cool," said Orlando. "How did I miss that?"

  "Too busy with video games?" Phoebe quipped.

  "Page two-fifteen and two-sixteen," Diana continued, "go on to talk about the consequences of such discoveries. They cite cultures that have disintegrated when faced with unfamiliar and more advanced societies, resulting in a breakdown of values, and sometimes complete destruction of the people itself."

  "And," urged Temple, "what was the recommendation of this section, on the question of such a discovery and its implications?"

  Diana smiled. "The only logical one. They posed a question that might shape policy. How might such information, under what circumstances, be presented to or withheld from the public for what ends?"

  "Withheld," Temple said, "being the key word."

  Orlando nodded. "So they were scared shitless out of what they found up there, and for our own good decided to hush it up."

  Diana clicked the button and started the presentation. "After seeing these images, I can't say as I blame them. Not sure I wouldn't have done the same thing."

  Photos started playing across the screens. And Phoebe and Orlando moved to the edge of their seats, open mouthed. "And you got these…"

  "Through great difficulty, and danger," Diana said.

  Orlando was rapt with interest, barely taking a breath as he watched the images—impossible sights of things that looked like domes set in the sides of craters, then long, straight walls that went on for miles, casting enormous shadows. Tall, glass-like spires, transparent, set in groups around octagon-shaped structures. Something that looked like a castle, gleaming half-covered in the shadow of a lunar crater. A glass-like tunnel stretching many miles, connecting the rims of two craters.

  Diana continued, "Astronaut Gordon Cooper went on record, and then recanted, that all the missions had been followed by UFOs, discreetly, and the astronauts had instructions on how to react, what to say as to alert Mission Control, and yet not alarm anybody. They had code phrase, little jokes like 'There's a Santa Claus sighting out our port window.'"

  "Nice," Orlando said in a whisper, still gazing at th
e pictures. "So if I tried to RV these things, could you give me coordinates?"

  Diana shook her head. "You don't want to try that. Colonel Temple will tell you why in a moment. Just let me wrap up, as you're looking at all this… All these things that if they got out—and some of them have, the less obvious ones that they didn't censor in time—NASA would just claim they were tricks of light and shadow. Sunspots."

  "Swamp gas," Orlando offered with a grin. When Phoebe frowned at him he said, "It's what UFO debunkers here have been offering as an excuse for UFO witnesses for years. Kind of a running joke."

  "Anyway," Diana continued. "The timeline, and real history of the space program kind of goes like this. We had a pretty good idea, before we sent humans up there, that they'd find something. There was enough visual confirmation from probe flybys that there would be evidence. It didn't look like a full-fledged civilization or anything, but possibly as the Brookings Report theorized, we'd find remnants of a lost civilization, and possibly something that would explain the moon's mysteries and the unanswered questions about our own evolution and history."

  Phoebe scratched at the goosebumps on her arms. She offered a wan smile to Aria who still seemed lost and bored, playing now with her water glass.

  "So we went there," Diana continued, "but found it wasn't quite… deserted. Something kept tabs on our mission. Followed, observed. But refused to acknowledge repeated attempts at communication. Radio signals didn't work. Then we tried light. That was the deal with the mirrors. Light pulses aimed with larger mirror arrays. Kind of a Morse Code. But no response. Imagine the buildup, the suspense, and then… to be ignored."

  "Like a nerd trying to get the attention of the head cheerleader," Orlando said, trying to smile at Phoebe and lighten the mood. "Disheartening."

  "Next, in following missions, NASA had their team try to investigate some of these unusual sites up close. My guess is they hoped to discover something, some leftover technology perhaps that could be used. A lot of areas could be accessed, where we got to explore ancient walls, towers and cathedral-like ruins, all empty. But some areas, it seemed, were off limits. Especially in areas where there were entrances. Tunnels, caves, openings in the deeper craters. The lunar modules would break down, equipment would just stop when they got to a certain distance. Nothing worked. Cameras included."

  "Just like…" Phoebe pointed back behind them. "The door?"

  Temple nodded. "Go on, Diana."

  She took another sip of water. "So we were left with the conclusion that there is a remnant of an advanced race out there, either living as some suggest, or possibly artificial…"

  "Robots?" Orlando asked. "Makes sense. Ruled by logic commands. Maybe only to observe and document, but not interact?"

  Diana nodded. "That's a thought. Or else it's a small contingent of the former civilization, staying behind to protect something. And apparently… to watch. NASA even took to calling them the Watchers. They're observing us, that much is clear… but not much else. Possibly, if the anecdotal evidence is to be believed, they may abduct our citizens covertly, experiment on them…"

  "And on cows," Orlando added. "Don't forget the poor cows."

  "And monitor our technological advances," Diana said. "Strange lights and un-trackable objects have been seen in greater abundance over military installations and nuclear facilities."

  "As if," said Temple, "they're gauging our strength, growing more interested as we come closer to the ability to destroy ourselves and our world."

  Phoebe scratched her head. "Ok, I'm still not sure I believe all this, but what's the status quo? That a secret group among our leaders really know and are keeping the truth from the rest of us? That ETs are here, but their motives are totally unknown, and they don't seem hostile, that they're just a bunch of voyeurs?"

  Diana smiled. "Not far off. We know we can't touch them technologically yet. But that has only fueled research like you wouldn't believe. Look at all the advances in technology and weaponry since the sixties. SDI—Star Wars—being the latest."

  "I thought we all learned Star Wars was a big waste of money," Orlando said. "That it couldn't shoot down any missiles effectively."

  "What if," asked Diana, "its name was actually spot-on? What if its purpose wasn't as defense against a terrestrial enemy?"

  Orlando blinked at her, then nodded. "So what, the Russians pretended to be all angry about it, but really they were on board, trying to help create some sort of defense?"

  "Against an inscrutable and unpredictable enemy that could attack and wipe us out at any moment. Yes."

  "But it was scrapped…" Orlando said.

  Temple smiled. "More like replaced. And in secret, with a new technology." Then his face fell. "A technology that we recently learned, may have been subverted to other uses."

  He let that hang in the air. Orlando was rubbing his temples, trying to massage away the confusion. "Wait, back on Star Wars, if I recall correctly, many of the scientists who worked on it wound up dying mysteriously."

  "That," said Temple, "was when we learned of the Black Lodge. Of Senator Calderon and his Marduk cult."

  "How do they fit in?" Phoebe asked.

  "In Nazi Germany, Hitler sought out legends of an advanced race living inside the earth, a race of supermen with great longevity and heightened psychic abilities. Missions were sent to the Arctic and Antarctica looking for a way inside the earth at the poles. Teams went to Tibet, trying to find the mystical home of these… Custodians."

  Phoebe gasped. "I heard that name. In Afghanistan, the tunnels. I saw… I thought I saw a city. And a robed man who called it…"

  Temple's eyes widened. "Shamballa?"

  Phoebe nodded. "What does all that have to do with the Moon, and ETs and…"

  "And Mars," Orlando said. "This all started with Mars, or have we all forgotten that? What about the Face? I'm assuming NASA did some cover-up job there too, and wasn't too happy about all the attention."

  Diana smiled. "That almost blew everything wide open. Fortunately they were able to airbrush and doctor later photos to try to dissuade everyone, but still… there were too many other anomalous structures in the Cydonia vicinity. Pyramids, walls, geometric angles and ratios between the enormous constructions."

  "So what's there?" Phoebe asked. "Same deal as the moon—ancient ruins, nobody home?"

  Diana shook her head. "Oh no, it's a little more complicated than that. Whatever's there is different. More aggressive and defensive. We've lost probe after probe. The Russians had their mission blown out of orbit as it neared the moon, Phobos. A craft-like object was seen streaking out of a crater and heading for the probe right before it was lost." She sighed. "Investigators have repeatedly asked why we don't just send a lander down to Cydonia to answer the question of the Face and pyramids once and for all, and NASA has cleverly dodged such requests by stressing their process, and looking for water in other areas, and throwing off attention by all that fuss about microbes in a Martian meteorite, but the truth is—we can't go back to the Cydonia region because they won't let us."

  Temple stood up, looking grim. "And this is where it all comes together. Where you fit in, why we need you. Calderon and his team… they're the inheritors of Hitler's Black Lodge. They found what Hitler had been looking for. Made contact with these Custodians—or one branch of them. What appears to have happened is that whatever great war raged in the heavens millions of years ago, the most recent was waged between bases on the Moon and Mars."

  "Thoth and Marduk," Phoebe said. "The moon was Thoth's…"

  Temple nodded. "And Mars belonged to Azazel, Marduk, Apollo. Call him what you will. What we're talking about here is more likely a group of beings rather than an individual. Factions with a common purpose. But yet, that was our conclusion too, that the faction most concerned with humanity, the ones who believed—according to all the myths—that we could aspire to their level, they're the ones on the Moon. And some are here, apparently, in Tibet and possibly we hope, here
in Shasta. They're the Watchers. Watching over us but not really getting involved."

  "The Custodians," Phoebe whispered. "But… the one I saw… he said they needed us. To save them."

  "The war has begun again," Temple said. "If it ever really ended. Many times before, Marduk's followers have attempted to wipe out humanity. The Flood. The Tower of Babel. I'm sure if we keep looking, other disasters might be pinned to them."

  "The Black Plague," said Orlando, then shrugged. "Just a thought."

  Temple nodded. "And each time, apparently at the last moment, these Watchers intervened. Giving Noah warning, saving a select few here and there. Secreting away knowledge of the world—astronomy, farming, maybe even genetic material. All so they would be able to restart civilization in new places after the devastation had subsided."

  "Which," Phoebe said, "explains a lot of the sudden appearances of civilization in areas like Egypt and Peru and others."

  "So how does the Tablet fit in?" Orlando asked. "And why does Calderon need it?"

  "That," said Temple, "is your objective number one. Probe the Emerald Tablet and question its relationship with Cydonia. There's something there. What it is, we're entirely in the dark about."

  Diana cleared her throat. "We know Mars once had a thriving ecosystem, a habitable environment, before its devastation. And now, knowing what we know about the real history of Earth, I believe we're in a position to answer one of the great mysteries of evolution. Where we came from, and how we 'evolved' so fast, without a discoverable missing link."

  "How?" Orlando said, then trembled.

  "Wait," said Phoebe. "A cataclysm on Mars. The red land that sunk. Out beyond the Pillars of Hercules." Phoebe looked at Diana and saw the agreement in her eyes. "That's where Plato put it."

  "Put what?" asked Orlando

  Diana smiled. "Atlantis. I believe Mars was Atlantis, and it's why no one has ever found it."

  "Looking in the wrong spot," Phoebe said. "But so many legends speak of it. Mayans, the Phoenicians, a lot of cultures, not only associated Mars and the color red with war and violence, but with their origins. Egypt, with its 'upper' and 'lower' land. The lower world, or the Underworld being red… The place where they came from. The place…" She gasped.