All of that sounds great—especially the promise of rescue—but above all I’m doing this for myself. To prove I’m someone who goes after what she wants. This is my personal initiation—this is a test of the new me. I fill my lungs with air, then exhale, and calm clarity overcomes me.
“It starts with a riddle.” Weiss’s voice echoes through the Lodge, drawing my attention to him. “But first you must solve the cipher.” He hands each of us a skeleton key.
Before I have time to examine the key, the chandeliers go dark and the fires extinguish. Weiss appears, ushering us through a false panel in the back of the fireplace behind Robie. Heading down a corridor I never knew existed, I’m last to climb the ladder at the end. I emerge from a trapdoor in the forest floor into the foggy morning.
“Good luck,” Weiss says, leaving us to the elements, before shutting himself back in the warmth of the passageway.
No one speaks, and I barely have time to acknowledge my opponents before they scatter, disappearing into the trees. I’m left alone. The only sound is the pattering leaves in the treetops, enchanted by a breeze I’ve yet to feel. I don’t know where they’re running to…unless they’ve already found a clue… My heart pounds. Forest trails splay around me, offering endless options, and I don’t know which path to choose. Breathing deep, I attempt to focus, turning the key over.
Nothing is inscribed on the smooth, chrome cylinder. I twist the filigree tip, and the key easily unscrews. Hidden inside is a piece of rolled parchment. Unfurling it, I hold it up to the light filtering through the leaves, but it’s blank. A movie I once saw comes to mind, and I kneel, digging into the earth, rubbing the paper with a handful of ammonia-rich soil. Slowly, black words written in a scrawling hand come into focus.
W htxvdggd dfxo gvrpdtz xgbgug yeef yrbg ueqht adyubqldu usjup jlz pugba ltwaplup. Dsjoo pfvyquuga, vqifxuntz, ujquy, dfud kpvega rd nsuql yg ghmpqiy twwt. Pwutf zhmd oot eqlmfefyrv xgssd; gp ef r seetv fm jrtoy. Yugra oot lfhjz, bjiu ed zeext, xdl yxcg wgih nbwit xbyls oot zeegfq.
It’s gibberish, but I calmly recall my cipher work with Stewart. Step one. Letter frequency. I study the text. Like English, but with more use of “G” and “U” than “E,” the most common letter in English…so the cipher uses alphabetic substitution…but it can’t be a simple substitution cipher, that would be too easy…maybe it’s a Caesar Cipher… Ticking through everything I’ve learned, I squelch the creeping fear that someone has already cracked the code. Focus. There are three broken branches on the tree next to the path that leads to Imitation Lake. I take it as a sign and turn onto the well-worn trail, keeping alert for clues while contemplating the cipher.
Half a mile in, a pile of rocks signifies I should turn right down a less-traveled road. As I push through the overgrown branches that obstruct the path, a crack overhead alerts me to Liam, perched high in a tree, releasing a pigeon.
“What are you doing up there?” I say, shielding my eyes from the sun.
“Surveillance.”
“Any chance you can tell me if I’m on the right track?”
“That would be against the rules,” he replies, grinning.
“And you take your job very seriously.”
“You know I do, but I could be persuaded…” He licks his lips, patting the branch next to him.
“I’m not that desperate,” I say.
“That’s what you think, spy. Better hurry.”
Frowning, I pick up my pace.
A few minutes later, I come upon the lake. Not far from the water sits a yellow umbrella with its nose stuck in the dirt. A clue…
Kneeling next to it, I roll the heavy key between my fingers while I think. A key. In a burst of heat, the answer inserts itself in my brain. The parchment contains a keyed Vigenère cipher, a series of Caesar Ciphers also known as a Quagmire III, and I’ll need a key and a passcode to translate it.
I trace the direction the umbrella handle points. Still as glass, the lake reflects the Crest Mountains from this angle, and a lone tree with two upside-down triangles drawn on in chalk on its trunk. Two triangles mean “viewpoint” ahead… It’s all I need to see. Armed with this knowledge, I deduce that my alphabet key has something to do with “crest” or “mountain” and my passcode pertains to “view”.
Knowing that with this information a computer could easily unscramble the letters, I long for an app to do the work for me, but part of the test is doing it the old-fashioned way. It will require a journey to the Crypt. Finding the nearest zip line, I sail to the Vault.
The trapdoor is open when I arrive, and I scramble down the mossy stairs. Reaching the bottom, I run through the labyrinth, stifling the urge to disappear down unexplored corridors and find what treasures await. I make two sharp lefts before arriving outside the Crypt. Inside, Garrett and Chloe are already huddled in the dimly lit room.
“Always last to the party,” Chloe mutters, staying focused on the Enigma machine she’s studying.
Kyran is nowhere to be seen, but Garrett grins, glancing up from a brass cipher disk. “Hey Ellie. You finally made it.”
My temper flares, but I squelch it. “Kyran was already here?” I cross the room to a glass case that houses the Jefferson disk, noting it requires numbers, not words, to order the disks and dismissing it as a possibility. Though there are likely multiple ways to decipher the riddle, I think Chloe has it wrong with Enigma. Garrett is definitely closer with the brass disks.
“He didn’t bother with the Crypt,” Garrett replies, eyes back on the puzzle. “Maybe he figured it out in his head. Pressure’s on.”
He doesn’t seem worried, which is annoying.
Taking a pencil and paper to a nearby desk, I pretend Kyran’s head start doesn’t bother me, either. Plopping into the chair, I read the message again, using the Kasiski method, searching for repeated letter sequences so I can figure out the key length—if it’s a five letter word like “crest” or and eight letter word like “mountain”—before deciding the text is too short for Kasiski to work. Biting my cheek in frustration, I give up and trust my gut. Using “crest” as my alphabet key, I write out C-R-E-S-T, followed by what is left of the alphabet: A-B-D-F-G… It’s slow going, but once I’ve rewritten the entire alphabet, shifting the letters as I go, I begin to decode, assuming “view” is my passcode.
I start with row V and quickly realize my transposition is gibberish. View must be the passcode, though… Taking a closer look at the riddle, I conclude it uses four Caesar ciphers, so the passcode must be a four-letter word. The chalk marks clearly referred to “view.” Racking my brain, I try to make sense of what I’m doing wrong. Is there another word for “crest”? Should I try “mountain”? My instincts are telling me “crest” is the key…
Squealing, Chloe leaps out of her chair. She pauses to kiss Garrett’s cheek, letting her lips linger, before she leaves, hips swaying, the answer to the riddle apparently in hand.
Dammit! Think. Think. Think.
Staring at my paper, I crumple it into a ball, picturing Imitation Lake. Imitation…reflection…the upside-down code for view…the umbrella with its nose in the sand…
Everything is reversed.
Frantically, I smooth out the paper, turn it over, and write my alphabet again, starting with “crest,” but this time reversing the alphabet.
The first letter on the paper cipher is W. Still believing the passcode is “view,” I trace line V until I find W. It corresponds with column A, so the first word is A. Taking the next letter in “view”—I—I find line I and run my finger across to the second letter in the code, H. Following the column up, I see it corresponds with letter R. The second word starts with R. I repeat the pattern: row E, letter T corresponds with column E…
A re…
I keep going. Row W letter X is in column A. Back to row V, where V becomes C… I bite my lip in intense focus, and time stands still until I’ve decod
ed the entire riddle:
A reaction that existed before this time where knowledge rules and skill declines. Truth uncovered, recharged, raved, then buried in greed to protect fame. Taken from the hedonistic night; it is a giver of light. Break the world, make it shine, and take your place among the divine.
Slamming down my pencil, I read the riddle again. And again.
Existed before this time… Pre-Information Age…but how far back? Buried in greed to protect fame…hidden truth…someone else took credit… Recharged, giver of light… A power source? Taken from the hedonistic night… Stolen from an orgy?
I run through the possibilities I know exist in the vault: The Louvre… Museo Nacional de Antropología… Hmmm… Maybe something from ancient times? The Antikythera mechanism, one of the earliest analog computers, is in the National Archaeological Museum of Athens… Maybe I should start there? I concentrate, waiting for something to click, and come up empty. All the while the clock is ticking. At least I’m not alone. Sneaking a glance at Garrett with his head bowed over his cipher, a strand of hair falling across his forehead, I take consolation in the fact that he hasn’t figured it out, either.
Drawn to him, I take advantage of his closeness—and rare silence. Tracing his strong jaw and full lips, I feel heat build in my center. He’s perfect. As if he hears my thoughts, his eyes snap up, connecting with mine. They seem darker today, the usual gray-green reading charcoal. Rimmed with kohl to disguise their symmetry, they are like black holes, sucking me in, bending the light in the room, and I sit frozen, heart pounding, unable to look away.
Speaking of hedonistic nights…
I blink myself back into reality, and I’ve got it. Babylon. Symbolic of all that’s evil in the Bible, awaiting her fall in Revelation… The answer is the Babylon Battery. The history lesson comes flooding back. Also known as the Baghdad Battery, it’s an ancient jar containing what was identified as an electric cell, dating back thousands of years before Alessandro Volta took credit for inventing the battery. It was looted from the National Museum of Iraq when the U.S. invaded in 2003, and then was later stolen by a Keystone alumnus and donated to the Vault. It now resides in the Pyramid. If only I can get there first… It’s clear on the other side of the Vault, and I don’t know how to get there from here, having only stumbled upon it once by accident.
A slow smile spreads across Garrett’s face. “Welcome back. You’re cute when you’re analyzing, but be careful not to chew that pretty lip until it bleeds.”
My stomach drops, but I refuse to let him distract me.
“What’s this?” he asks, touching the tiger’s eye I wear at my throat. “Good luck charm?”
“I don’t need luck.” Making sure my glare is received, I leap out of my seat and rush to the door. Unfortunately, I’m no match for his longer strides, and he catches me, snaking his arm around my shoulders just as I’m about to exit.
“Fair enough,” he says. “Do you want to walk over there together?”
“Do you know where we’re supposed to be going?” I stare up at him, my head tucked perfectly against his shoulder. Holding my breath, I resist inhaling his spicy scent.
He laughs. “I think so, but just in case, why don’t you tell me where you’re going?”
“Not a chance.”
The laughter never leaves his eyes. “Okay. Have it your way. But don’t forget I offered.” Dropping his arm, he heads out the door, leaving me to watch in dismay as he taps out a pattern on the stone wall across the corridor. Seconds later, the wall opens, revealing a secret passageway I had no idea existed.
“I’ll see you in Babylon,” he says over his shoulder. And the wall closes behind him.
Chapter Seventeen
January 1, 20X6, Keystone
Resigned to going the long way, I turn right, sprinting down the corridor. The passage narrows, the walls changing to stacked stone. Recalling it’s down one of these claustrophobic halls that the Pyramid waits, I’m energized.
Garrett’s probably there by now.
Not to mention Kyran. And Chloe. If she was going to the Pyramid. I still don’t think the Enigma could have decoded the riddle, but I hurry, winding deeper into the Vault. The air grows colder, the oxygen tighter. It’s dark, but already-lit lanterns flicker, telling me I’m on the right track. Passing the Sphinx, I climb the stairs to the gates guarding the Grand Egyptian Museum. The iron doors tower above me, and I yank on the rusted handles.
They don’t budge
The lock is still intact. No way I’m the first one here. Fortunately, my memory serves me well. I pick the lock and, minutes later, slip inside.
Mummies line the walls, their frozen, painted eyes seeming to trace my path as I cross the dimly lit gallery. At the back of the narrow hall, the battery sits encased in glass at the top of a small altar. At least I hope it’s still there. I can’t be sure because Garrett is standing with his back to me, hindering my view.
Annoyed he beat me, I march up the stone steps and join him. To my relief, the battery still sits inside the glass box atop a weighted pedestal. I search the case for security flaws. It’s almost too easy. The case can be opened with a rake pick. Just hold the rods in place that trigger the alarm… The hardest part will be replacing the battery with something similar in weight without sounding the sirens. That, and doing it before Garrett does.
“Been here long?” I ask.
He keeps his unusually serious eyes glued to the case. “You made it past the gates. I’m impressed.”
“The lock wasn’t so tough.” I shrug, pretending it was the first time I’d tackled it. “Where’s everyone else? I’m surprised they’re not here yet.”
“I’m not. Kyran will show up when it’s convenient. He’s probably here now, actually. Waiting to pounce.”
“How do you know?” I look around, but my instincts don’t detect another presence.
“Everyone has a tell.”
“What’s mine?”
“That’s top-secret information.” He grins. “But I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
I frown. “What about Chloe?”
“What about Chloe? She’s the least of my worries. My only problem is the one standing next to me.”
My cheeks get hot. “Where do you think she is?” I ask, hoping he assumes I’m flushed from running.
“Probably trying to steal the Crown Jewels or something. That Enigma machine couldn’t have broken the riddle—who knows what she decoded.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t help her.”
He turns to face me. “That would be cheating, Ellie, and I always play by the rules.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“You should get to know me before you jump to conclusions.”
“Why? Do you really care what I think of you?”
“Maybe.” His eyes flash.
A surge of energy bolts through me, sending goose bumps up my arms. “What do we do now?” Unnerved by my reaction, I refocus on the challenge.
“Ladies first.” He steps backward, his right hand gesturing that the case is all mine.
“You’re going to let me steal it?” It’s a trick.
“Just being polite.”
“Make me do all the work so you can tackle me and steal it from me later?”
He laughs. “Believe me. I have no desire to tackle you.”
Refusing to dignify him with a response, I square my shoulders. “Stand back.”
Giving me a wide berth, he folds his arms over his chest.
I unhook my water canteen from my belt, hoping it will be similar in weight to the battery. Removing the lock kit from my pocket, I work on the cabinet screws. The case pops open easily, and I hold the alarm pins in place with the knife I keep strapped to my arm, carefully using the canteen to nudge the battery forward with my left hand. When the battery is about to f
all, I let go of the canteen and catch it. Battery in hand, I leave the canteen in its place and reset the scene. Releasing the pins, I close and relock the glass case.
The museum is silent. I don’t know what I was expecting—bells, whistles…something signifying victory, but nothing happens.
Still watching me, Garrett presses his lips together in a smug smile. “Are the battery components still inside the jar?” he asks.
Could Kyran have beaten us here, stolen the elements, and replaced the jar? My heart thudding, I open the lid and exhale relief when I find the battery, still intact. But in addition to the copper cylinder inside, there’s another scroll. Another clue.
Nothing stays hidden forever; everything wants to be found.
“What does it say?” Garrett asks.
I look up, willing my wide eyes to reflect innocence. “Why should I tell you?”
“Because it’s the polite thing to do.” He steps toward me, blocking the altar steps.
“All’s fair in love and war, my friend.” Shrugging, I tuck the scroll into my pocket.
“I don’t believe that.”
“Then you’ve been living underground for too long.” Plotting my escape, I gauge my chances of squeezing past him.
“I wasn’t talking about fairness,” he says. “I don’t believe we’re friends.”
Only half listening, I contemplate a plan. I need to catch him off guard…
My back warms to a presence behind me. Kyran. I spin around, catching his wrist just as his hand enters my pocket. He’s quick, but I’m quicker. Unfortunately, I’m no match for his strength. He grabs me with his free hand, twisting my arm around my back. Hot pain shoots to my shoulder until I’m sure my bones will splinter. He reaches into my pocket and takes the scroll.
“Let her go.” Garrett charges Kyran, sending me sprawling to the floor. My elbow cracks against the floor, but I scramble to regain my footing.
Garrett pushes Kyran against a glass case, one hand on his throat while the other fights for the scroll.
Keystone Page 13