by JC Ryan
"Oh, of course. And why exactly do you have it? Never mind, don't answer that."
Salome smiled. "Here. Take a look at this one. I think you'll find it particularly interesting."
After Luke read it, he again fixed a stare on Salome. This one wasn't so friendly. "Why in heaven's name would you have done this?"
"To convince you it was possible. Don't worry, Luke, you'll walk out of here with it, and I didn't read it. Your financial records, passwords and browsing history are all safe. I did the search myself."
"How did you even get this stuff?" Luke's face was still red. If this stunt hadn't permanently ruined their relationship, Salome would be relieved.
"One organization has been quietly buying up the interests of all the major search engines. That organization could easily compile this type of report on every adult in the world, save those who have never accessed the internet at all. The implications are grave. With even a fraction of the information in that report, they could ruin you if they wanted. And it gets worse. Universal medical records. I haven't found any way to crack those, but if someone does, look out."
She didn't want to continue, seeing a vein on Luke's forehead throbbing, but she had one more thing to say. Luke tilted his head, obviously expecting something else.
"Given the breadth of the population that's on the internet, they could shift world opinion in hours, determine the outcome of elections, bring down the stock market, whatever they wanted. And no one would be the wiser." Her quiet words conveyed a threat so sinister that it clearly stunned Luke, even though he was a seasoned ex-CIA agent.
"And who is it?"
"That's where the threat lies, Luke. I haven't been able to penetrate their identities, and I'm not certain what they're up to. Whatever it is can't be good."
His brow furrowed, he gave his assessment. "Okay, I buy that something's going down, but what?"
"Do you remember all that hullabaloo about a New World Order that the conspiracy theorists used to spout?"
"Sure," he said. "I was there. You were just a sparkle in your mother's eye."
"Not even that, but there's something to the saying that those who forget their history are doomed to repeat it. I know it wasn't just fringe lunatics, and the people behind the scenes might have been more successful had the time been right. They didn't prepare well enough, and the movement collapsed. But a few of the leaders had made some serious money. They went underground. I believe what we're seeing here is a resurgence. I haven't even shown you what I've discovered about communications. The same thing's happening there, worldwide."
"That isn't good news for the Foundation. Anytime since its inception, when there have been powerful groups with an agenda that isn't in the public interest, the library has been a target for acquisition by stealth or by force. What's your proposal?"
Salome drew a deep breath. "I believe there's no stopping it. This sneaked up on us and isn't on the radar of government agencies yet. Furthermore, we can't trust any agency now not to have been compromised. The Foundation, critical staff and the database all have to go to ground. In other words, hide until it's over, or until we can form a resistance movement."
"You can't be serious! Where would such a large group hide, these days?"
"That's what we need to find out."
"Well, good luck convincing Daniel of all this. You're not thinking of handing him a report like you just handed me, are you?"
"Are you kidding? That would be worth my job. And, I think we have some time. I don't see anything on the near horizon that would trigger a crisis. But I believe in being prepared. And I was hoping you'd help me."
"Me! No, you don't understand, Sally would skin me alive."
Salome laughed. "Surely it isn't all that serious."
His dark look made her think again. "You just don't know."
"I'll try to do it on my own. But I reserve the right to tell him you agree with me."
"You're going to get me killed, I swear. Sally's had it up to here with conspiracies. But, okay, I'll help if I can. What's going on in the library these days?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary. The in-house staff is still digging through the energy and medical sections, but we keep a tight lid on that nowadays. Anything exciting is licensed only to well-trusted companies to develop before rolling availability out to everyone. We constantly monitor those companies to see that they stay trustworthy. All that was tough to get through the board, but after what happened two years ago..."
"Yeah, that did bring some folks up short, didn't it? Keep me posted if anything comes up. Maybe Sally's cooking will send me to the grave happy and well-fed long before anything breaks."
"You wish." Salome laughed. “So, what do you suggest?”
Luke thought for a few minutes before answering. “Well, for one thing, you’ve definitely uncovered something, but damned if I know what it is yet. And we don’t have much time to figure it out. I’d say that Doomsday clock they keep is at about five minutes to twelve o’clock. So, here’s what I’d do. I’d go ahead and bring Daniel up to speed, and see if his friendship with President Harper is such that he can bring it up with the incumbent and try to get our old agencies working on it.”
“Luke, remember that the president is a beneficiary of whatever this is.”
“Yes, but I’m not at all sure he’s bright enough to understand he’s part of a conspiracy.”
Salome snorted. Political commentary wasn’t part of her brief, though she agreed with Luke’s assessment.
He went on. “It looks like they’re waiting for something. Because frankly, with the assets they already have, they’re poised to take over most of the world any time. The only thing I can see holding them back is the security forces of the governments they’d likely target. Until they find a way around that, or find a way to get those forces behind themselves, we’ve got some time.”
“Okay, thanks, Luke. I’ll take your opinion under advisement, and I’ll keep you posted. You’re sure you don’t want your job back?”
“As sure as I’m sure I love my own skin and wouldn’t risk Sally’s wrath.” He left laughing, with Salome echoing. But, when he was gone, she sobered instantly. Her path still wasn’t clear.
Chapter 5 - The preppers
Salome did know that she didn’t want to bother Daniel with a problem until she had a proposal for a solution. In her world, people who brought problems without suggested solutions didn’t last long. Since she’d already discussed it with the only person she dared to that was part of the security world, she needed a problem-solving person to talk to next. And, she had the perfect candidate - her husband. Even though it wasn’t his area of expertise, Roy was pragmatic and never failed to impress her with his grasp of any subject that caught his attention.
"Roy, have you ever wondered about preppers?" She knew the answer. It was one of his many obsessions, and an interest he shared with Raj.
"What do you mean, wondered?" he asked.
"Do you think they've got the right idea? I mean, what if they didn't think of everything? Or manage to store enough to get through a crisis?"
"I'm sure they have the right idea. Does your question mean you're finally willing to do what Raj and Sushma do? At least as far as food storage goes?"
"Maybe. I'm more interested in what a truly prepared person would do. Like, would they have somewhere to go where other people couldn't find them and take what they have?"
Roy put down his fork and regarded his wife fondly. "Well, if they were smart, they would."
"What would that look like? I mean, where could you go these days that no one could find you? And what would you have to take with you?" Salome could tell from Roy's expression that she'd introduced a subject she could mine for as long as she wanted. For him, it was better than TV or a movie. More like a video game; one where he could build an imaginary world and make it as perfect as possible. One thing she knew about Roy was that it would be created down to the last, tiny detail. Even the nano-detai
l. She was so caught up in her strategy that it took her by surprise when he answered with a question of his own.
“Salome Catherine, tell me what you’re getting at. I know you well enough to know when you have something on your mind. Spit it out.”
Uh-oh. He’d caught her out, and the use of her middle name was ominous. She only ever heard it from her mother when she was in trouble. Looked like Roy had picked up on that. With no other choice, she once again launched into the explanation she’d given to Luke.
When she was finished with that, she wrapped it up with why she’d brought up prepping. “The only solution I can see is for the Foundation to go to ground, or prepare to, so when whatever this is happens, we’re not in the line of fire.”
Roy nodded as she spoke, giving her the space to fully explain before he said another word. When she finally stopped speaking, he was ready. "You know what would be fun?" he said. "Finding a perfect spot right around here, or close enough that we could actually pull it off. Man, Raj would freak out. He'd be so jealous!"
"That would be fun," she agreed.
Roy was so taken with the idea that he started looking online at topographic maps and Google Earth that very evening, marking promising spots. Before long, his office was cluttered with large-format printouts that were cluttered with X’s marked in red pen. When Salome went to remind him to come to bed, she stopped at the door, taken aback. What the heck?
"Roy, what are you doing?" She started picking up the large sheets of paper to make a path to him.
"Stop! You'll mess up the order," Roy said. "I'm printing out maps of likely spots."
"But, why wouldn't you just save them electronically?"
"Because...well, it was supposed to be a surprise." For a moment he seemed downcast, and then his expression bounced back to his usual happy demeanor. "We're going camping. For our vacation. Off the grid."
Salome was used to guarding her expression. It was so easy to hurt him unwittingly, especially when it took her a few minutes to catch up with his enthusiasms. "Camping? Oh, that sounds...fun?" Camping? What was he thinking? Neither of them had what one might call survival skills.
"To find the spot. Don't tell me you've forgotten already?" Roy said, already beginning to look downcast.
"No, no, baby, of course I haven't forgotten. I was just surprised you'd already... Never mind. I think it's a brilliant idea. When do you want to go?
"Well, I've got several spots to explore. I just need to calculate the most efficient way to travel, and then we'll need a list of gear, and I guess we'll have to buy it and ..." Roy paused for breath.
"That's lovely, dear. We've got lots to do to get ready. But let's go to bed now. Tomorrow's a work day."
Roy had been absorbed in his work, but looked up at her when she spoke. What she was wearing made him forget all about what he'd been doing and eagerly follow her to their bedroom. Being worshiped that way could go to a girl's head.
Chapter 6 - Found the Eighth Cycle
Within a week of Brideaux's conversation with Daniel, Matthews was ensconced in a guest office with a full complement of office equipment. Daniel sent Raj to meet with him to get an idea of what he wanted to find.
"This is between us, right?"
"Well, unless translation is required," Raj hedged.
"I understand that a translator will be provided under a non-disclosure agreement."
"Uh, I don't know anything about that, but if that's what Daniel said, I'm sure it's true," Raj said.
Matthews cleared his throat. "Here's what I'm looking for, then. You're aware, I'm sure, that some of the hieroglyphics in the pyramids and other ancient artifacts have depicted flying machines."
Raj leaned forward eagerly. "Yeah, and I've always wondered about that."
"You and many others. I happen to believe that the ancients depicted what they saw. However, since the Tenth Cycle library was discovered, I've wondered if some remnant of the population from the Tenth Cycle didn't survive and pass on some of their knowledge. Even artifacts from before the cataclysm. It would explain a lot."
"Like that spark plug," Raj said, referring to an object found in ancient strata in California.
"Precisely. So, what I'm looking for in the library are plans for such machines, especially any that would resemble the representations we know of from our own distant past. There has to be a link between the actual technology and its survival into our cycle."
"That's fantastic, man! What I need to do is get the index for transportation ready for processing. I'll have that for you tomorrow."
Matthews blinked. "You can be so sure?"
"Dude, I've been looking for something like this on my own, in my spare time. I've got the calculations done on the right area, just need to plug them in and run the algorithm. I'll talk to Daniel about assigning us a translator as soon as I have it running."
Matthews smiled. It was going to be very satisfying, working with someone who had the same enthusiasm for the project as he did. He would have to remember, though, not to give any hint that he was actually hoping to find some reference to a location where he might actually discover one of the artifacts itself.
The process of running the algorithm was more tedious than Matthews had realized. He assumed, as did most people unfamiliar with the inner workings of the library, that there were indexed printouts of the text. Nothing could have been further from the truth, although headway had been made in storing electronic text on powerful servers. The process of running iteration after iteration of Fibonacci numbers as skip sequences on the tens of thousands of numbers calculated from the dimensions of the stones within the pyramid took time.
Even with super-fast computers that had took advantage of Roy's nanotechnology discoveries within the library, the amount of data was so monumental, no pun intended, that waiting for a process to finish was like watching grass grow. Or so it seemed to Matthews. While he waited for his computer to spring to life with the raw, unedited data, he took the time to get to know the famous linguist, Sinclair O'Reilly, who headed the translation department.
"This process is incredible, sir. I understand you did the first calculations by hand."
"Not by hand, no," Sinclair answered. "Though the computers we used eight years ago were primitive, compared to the tools we have now. Sometime it seems it's been twenty years, not eight."
Sinclair turned away, and then back. "Oh, I'm assigning my best employee as your translator. Daniel mentioned you'd need his assistance full-time."
"Thank you. Indeed, I shall. That's most kind of you."
***
Matthews wasn't a linguist himself, but he quickly learned and memorized certain characters and groups of characters forming words and concepts in the Tenth Cycle script. That way, he could scan the text rolling down his monitor for sections that contained potentially interesting information. Once he identified them, he handed off those sections to the translator for a quick synopsis. In this way, Matthews was making quick progress through everything Raj could supply him.
He'd been working in his guest office quarters for several days already and had identified some information to further explore, when his eye caught a reference to the word 'cycle' among other words he didn't recognize. It didn't make an impression at first. He was looking for words like 'machine', 'craft', 'flying', and variations of them, especially in close proximity to 'air', 'sky', 'heaven' and the like. It was only when he started seeing 'cycle' with increasing frequency that it registered.
Several years ago, an obscure reference to the Ninth Cycle made it clear that the Tenth Cycle civilization were not only aware of earlier civilizations, but had studied at least the one just previous to theirs. A Ninth Cycle city deep within an extinct Antarctic volcanic caldera had become a tourist destination for the Tenth Cyclers, in fact. However, no one had found references to even earlier civilizations, other than those implied by the numbering system the Tenth Cyclers had imposed.
Matthews hadn't thought about it befor
e, nor was he aware that anyone else had. But, there must have been a reason, one involving evidence, that the Tenth Cyclers named their own civilization the Tenth Cycle. If that evidence existed, very likely it would be recorded somewhere in the library, of course. If so, did Raj, who was most familiar with the extensive index, have any ideas where the Tenth Cyclers might have stored the annals of the earlier civilizations? Matthews thought, perhaps not, or there would have been news stories chronicling the discovery. Was it possible that he was just now making the discovery?
The key lay in the words around 'cycle'. While suppressing his natural excitement, Matthews still wanted to know more about this section, and he wanted it now. He called to his translator, working in an adjoining office with an open door between them.
"Mike, can you come take a look at this right now? I just need a couple of words clarified."
Mike appeared at his elbow. "Sure, Dr. Matthews. Point at the ones you want to know."
Instead, Matthews pointed at one that he was sure meant 'cycle,' and asked Mike to verify that it did.
"Yes, that's cycle, all right. Will that be all?"
"No, Mike, have a closer look. That word is all over the place on this section. Could you look at the words just before and after, and give me an idea what this section's about?"
"Sure. Do you mind if I borrow your chair?"
Matthews got up so Mike could get a closer look. The young man's next utterance was encouraging.
"Wow." He said nothing else as he continued to scroll. Matthews waited patiently at first, but after the next "wow", could contain himself no longer.
"What is it?"
"See these words?" Mike pointed.
"Yes, but I don't recognize them."
"They're numbers. Most of them mean ten and a few mean nine. But this one," he said, pointing to the screen, "means eight."
"Do you mean that the section could refer to the Eighth cycle?" Matthews controlled his excitement with difficulty.