Authors: Mark Henrikson
Mark stood in
the blazing desert sun not far from the Great Pyramid of Khufu. The magnificent structure would have commanded the attention of anyone else on the planet, but Mark was not just anyone. He stood facing east, with his back to the monuments, and waited.
Standing next to Mark was a colonel from the Egyptian army who commanded a squad of roughly two hundred men around the Giza plateau. Mark would have preferred to do
this operation without any fanfare, but he was in a foreign country. He needed to secure dig right approvals, transit rights through Egyptian airspace, and approval for American armed servicemen to operate in their country. Having his actions observed by the Egyptian military was only natural.
The colonel
attempted conversation a few times, but a consistent barrage of curt one word replies got the message across loud and clear. ‘Just do your job and don’t ask about mine.’
Mark contented himself with the knowledge that the Egyptian army’s presence was not all bad. The men were proving quite capable at securing the landing area and managing crowd control.
Three hours earlier, Mark was able to pull patent numbers off of the dig permit he procured from Dr. Hass. The NSA’s backdoor key to the patent office allowed him to pull the equipment and software schematics. This allowed an engineering team, located at the Middle East Regional Command Center in Qatar, to replicate the sonic density triangulation equipment the team of archeologists developed. As it turned out, the equipment took almost no time at all to manufacture, the holdup was the software to receive and interpret the data. They couldn’t just lift the original code because the outdated C++ programming language would not work with the military grade equipment.
Mark called in a few favors to bring the best programmers the NSA, FBI, and Military Intelligence had
to offer in order to rewrite the programming. Long story short, three hours later the equipment and shiny new program coding were en route from Qatar, along with some well-trained muscle.
He spot
ted the twin rotor blades of a Chinook transport helicopter coming in low and fast a few seconds before the rhythmic thrumming of the blades filled the entire Giza plateau. The aircraft did not slow down until the last possible instant, and then set down on the desert floor amid a whirlwind of sand and dirt.
The rear cargo door open
ed before the bird even touched down. When wheels hit sand, three Humvees poured out of the helicopter, followed by a dozen service men dressed in heavy combat gear.
The H
umvees came to a stop in front of Mark and the passenger door of the lead vehicle snapped open and an imposing redheaded man with a short red beard and mustache stepped out.
“I’m SEAL team Commander Allen,” he began.
“I don’t have time to care about your name Commander,” Mark interrupted. “Get your men moving to place the ground receptors in the designated locations. Anyone left over is on crowd control since everyone and their mother is going to want to know what’s going on. I also need your engineer to set up the receiver equipment in the command tent right here, right now.”
“Yes sir,” the commander snarled. Clearly this particular Navy SEAL was accustomed to being treated like he walked on water by subordinates, peers, and commanding officers alike. To his credit the man and his team were true professionals. Within ten minutes all ground receptors were in place around the three Great Pyramids and Sphinx. An added bonus was the fact that not a single man woman or child had wandered within a hundred yards of the equipment.
The engineer approached Mark with his status report. “Sir, the ground emitters are all in position and communicating with the data server and map overlay program. If you don’t mind me asking, where did you get the designs for this equipment?”
“Patents fall under the National Security Agency’s charter,” Mark instructed. “You never know when a wackjob might invent something dangerous.”
“Or design something useful apparently,” the engineer added. “In any case, all we need now is the emitter, but like I told you before we left Qatar, we weren’t able to reengineer that piece of equipment in time. It would have taken two more days to deliver the necessary parts. I was told you had something else in mind that would do the job. Were you able to locate an emitter the original archeology team used?”
“Soldier, if you left high tech equipment unattended on a busy street corner in New York city, do you think it would still be there even an hour later, much less a whole week?” Mark said with a laugh. “No, I have something a little more high tech in mind.”
At that moment Mark’s phone chirped. He was tempted to ignore the call, but it was an encrypted line for which only a select few individuals knew the number, and each were people he didn’t ignore. Mark brought the caller identification screen into view and instantly cringed upon seeing the name Terrance on the display. The last thing Mark wanted to do was talk to his boss with an audience, but he flipped the phone open and placed it to his ear nonetheless.
“Terrance, your timing is perfect as usual,” Mark managed in a chipper voice. He felt the engineer’s ear listening in so he shot the corporal an icy stare and dismissed him from the command tent with a sideways flick of his head.
“I see you’re on the job again after a week of pointless fun in the sun,” the gruff voice on the other end of the line fired back. “Does money and manpower effort mean nothing to you?”
“I take it my request to re-task the
Lacrosse Aperture Recon Satellite came across your desk?” Mark prompted.
“Yes it did. Do you have any idea what’s involved with repositioning a satellite already in orbit? Not to mention reshuffling the equipment availability windows for the
entities that paid for the thing to be in orbit in the first place.”
“While your performing this cost audit, don’t forget to include the expense of flying a SEAL team in from Qatar with custom built equipment,” Mark sarcastically added while he bought time for the engineer to get out of ear shot. “It’s not like you to overlook such things.”
“You think this is funny?”
A clap from the command tent door closing behind the engineer let mark know he had his privacy. That being the case, he changed to a dire tone for which the situation truly warranted. “No! I have a missing man who’s likely held by the people responsible for that monthly Frequency Beta transmission the NSA’s been after for the last 70 years. You remember that right,
Terrance? The same frequency the NASA probe is using to broadcast signals now. Do I need to draw you a map? The spacemen you joked about last week are here and they just tried to phone home! This is as serious as it gets and no matter what it costs I need to get to the bottom of it. The clock is ticking.”
“Oh get a grip will you. The signal strength is so weak a craft would have to practically sit on
that communications probe to get the message. Plus it will be 25,000 years from now, give or take a few millennia, to even reach your hypothetical war zone. I think we have some time, don’t you?”
Mark was frustrated enough by his obtuse boss to hurl the phone across the room, but he impressed himself by delivering a quiet, instructional reply. “They beefed up the signal strength of the message by a factor of five thousand. It will be heard, but that’s not even the issue here. The
trail to those responsible for Frequency Beta originating on this planet grows colder by the second. We’ve been this close to answers before and we’ve always missed our chance because we were too slow. Before the probe launch, investigating Frequency Beta was precautionary. Things have changed now, Terrance. The threat is on its way, it is real, and we need to know what we’re up against. Failure is not an option this time. I will get answers at any cost.”
Terrance must have accepted Mark’s argument because when he spoke again it was with a calm, level tone. “What is all this manpower and equipment for then? How is this going to help you lo
cate our man and the source of Frequency Beta?”
“I’m recreating the experiment those missing archeologists ran, because whatever they discovered led to their disappearance,” Mark answered. “I need to know what they knew. The extra fire power is on hand to make sure I don’t disappear like
those before me.”
“Carry on,” Terrance said followed by a click.
Mark paced over to the tent door and shoved it open. He located the engineer standing nearby. “Stop picking your nose and get in here already.”
With Mark standing over his shoulder, the systems engineer took his seat at a workstation hooked into a satellite communicator. The collapsible device looked like a basketball made of black mesh cut in half and set on a
tripod stand. “Begin transmission, and let me know once the results are laid into the mapping program.”
The soldier gave a thumbs up and then hit enter on his keyboard.
While he waited, Mark envisioned his partner, Frank, hovering above each monument for hours on end while the primitive C++ dot matrix program slowly pieced together a three dimensional mapping of the pyramids and sphinx. Moments later his mental break came to an abrupt end.
“Sir, the mapping’s complete.”
It’s good to have infinite resources at your disposal Mark thought as he looked down at the laptop displaying the mapping results. The entire Giza plateau was shown on a high definition and fully colored relief map. The Pyramid of Khufu caught his attention first as four rooms no one ever knew existed were highlighted in bright red. They were located symmetrically about the structures middle layers and appeared to house large pieces of machinery the sonic density program was unable to identify. The rooms were interesting, but since there was no way to reach them without blowing through the exterior walls of the pyramids, Mark’s eyes moved on and arrived at the Sphinx.
His
heart skipped a beat when his mind processed what his eyes saw. The enormous body of the Sphinx was glowing bright red. It was hollow inside and housed another cluster of metal the computer could not identify. What’s more, there was an underground tunnel leading to the chamber from the north.
“My God, sir, it’s incredible,” the engineer marveled.
“Spare me the oohs and ahs, Corporal. This is top secret so put your game face on. Not a word to anyone, even your commanding officer.” Observing the attitude adjustment take hold Mark methodically went about his business. “Now have the satellite transmit a thermal reading focused on the Sphinx.”
Moments later the image zoomed in on the body of the Sphinx, and five miniature figures glowing bright blue, green and yellow appeared inside the hidden chamber. Three were clustered in one corner of the room, while the other two roamed freely.
“I think we know where our missing people are now, and they’re only held by two captors,” Mark thought out loud. “Have the satellite track that tunnel to its source and relay the data to my GPS unit. The boys and I are taking a little road trip.”
Mark stepped out of the command tent, and for the first time looked up and admired the gigantic stone structures around him. The implication of the chambers
he just saw hidden within them suddenly sunk in. These monuments were ancient in the extreme. The four chambers buried half way up the height of the pyramid had to be part of the original construction some four thousand years ago. The striking resemblance of it all to his brother's psychiatric patient's story caused him to reach for his phone and place a call.
“I
t’s me. I'm stuck in Egypt right now, so I need you to check up on the security detail assigned to my brother. The line between lunacy and genius just got a lot thinner and I'm not taking any chances.”
Hastelloy sat on
his balcony admiring the magnificent view of the Roman Forum. The sun was just going down so a golden glow was cast upon the myriad of white marble structures. The grand spectacle that made up the political, economic, legal, and spiritual center of the Republic was awe inspiring. Buildings and temples sporting pitched roofs, grand staircases and lined on all sides with columns and statues was unlike any other place on the planet. For all its grandeur though, Hastelloy somehow enjoyed the view of the tranquil Mediterranean waters from his balcony in Cyprus to the hustle and bustle of the city.
Gallono stepped onto the balcony and made his presence known
by clearing his throat. Hastelloy inclined his head toward the newcomer. “Is it time?”
“Yep, though I would rather be going almost
anywhere else. These high society parties always leave me feeling in need of a bath and a good delousing by evenings end.”
Hastelloy gestured for them to leave. “Me too, but like it or not this is how things are done. When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”
The two men joined Valnor and Tonwen on their way out the door. All four men were dressed in finely pressed togas, complete with weights sown into the linings so the folds hung in the most fashionable way. As they proceeded down the street, flanked by a cluster of slaves, Gallono continually fussed over his clothes.
“Could the designers have possibly dreamt up a more cumbersome fashion than these glorified
bed sheets? I always feel like it’s about to fall off at just the wrong moment so these high society farts are left staring at my bare ass. Wait, maybe that’d be a good thing. . .”
“For the party we’r
e attending, it probably would,” Valnor added with a laugh.
As they neared Tomal’s villa, the sounds of stringed instruments and flutes along with laughter filled the air. The night was young, but the festivities were already well under way. Hastelloy would have preferred enter
ing the party with some semblance of anonymity, but that would not do. His social standing as a senator dictated his presence be announced to the gathering.
A
slave escorted Hastelloy through an entry almost overgrown with tropical plants and floral arrangements. The entry quickly opened to a grand two-story atrium with the ground level seamlessly paved in marble. Many sections of the floor contained mosaic depictions of exotic flowers and animals. The second story was supported by ornately chiseled columns with stone carved hand rail and spindles fronting the second story balcony overlooking the open air center of the house. The home was impressive, and very much spoke to Tomal’s penchant for extravagance.
The
slave stopped in the middle of the tiled court yard and announced Hastelloy to the gathering.
The pronouncement was accompanied with polite applause as Tomal found his way through the crowd to greet his disting
uished guest. Tomal met him with a warm embrace and personally escorted Hastelloy around the room to mingle with guests of particular interest while skipping those who carried little or no social standing. The meet and greet circuit ended with an unexpected individual. Before Hastelloy stood a Vestal Virgin decked out in her pure white gown and headdress. Unlike the young angelic looking woman who freed young Caesar, this Vestal was well weathered and pushing seventy years of age.
“May I present the distinguished Vestalis Maxima,” Tomal said and then stepped away from the conversation to
oversee the evening’s entertainment.
“Madam, it is an honor to make your acquaintance,” Hastelloy began while not entirely masking his excitement to speak with the high priestess of the college of Vestals. He had many questions.
“And I you,” she politely responded.
“Tell me,” Hastelloy said, “Have you ever had occasion to meet our former high priest of Jupiter?”
“A
re you speaking of young Gaius Julius?” the priestess asked. With an affirmative nod Hastelloy prompted her to continue. “Of course. Our ceremonial duties often overlapped. Why do you ask?”
Hastelloy said nothing,
letting the raised eyebrow and doubtful look in his eyes convey his thoughts.
The old woman tilted her head to the side and e
xpressed a demurred look. “I’ve gone over this countless times with other senators and even Sulla himself. It was a chance encounter, plain and simple.”
Hastelloy looked shocked and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and apology. “Of course it was
, madam, but you misunderstand my line of questioning. In the past few years since leaving his position, Caesar has enjoyed quite a distinguished military career, and I hear his name spoken quite often now on the senate floor. I’ve never met the man myself to make any judgments so I would very much like to hear your personal read of the man.”
“I didn’t know him well, but
I can say for certain he is a very pious individual. He listens to Jupiter’s guiding words and trusts them with his whole heart. The path he follows now may be away from the temples, but he still hears the words and guidance as he follows the destiny laid out for him.”
Hastelloy leaned in so only the priestess could hear his next s
tatement. “I have to admit, I’m a man who finds it difficult to have that kind of blind faith.”
The priestess looked
very confused, “There is nothing difficult about it. You listen to the word of the gods while you meditate alone and do what they command.”
“When I’m alone the only words I hear
are those inside my head,” Hastelloy countered. “How do you distinguish your mind’s voice from that of the gods?”
“Why
I’m not sure,” the woman admitted. “All I know is when it’s my time to attend the eternal flame inside the temple, Vesta speaks to me, and there is not a shred of doubt in my mind that it is her.”
“And what does she say to you?” Hastelloy prodded.
She lurched away from him taking great offense, “That, sir, is an extremely private matter.”
“Please madam,
I would like to know in case the gods are speaking to me and I’m simply not listening. I’m sure there is a special place in Hades’ realm reserved for those who ignore what the gods command. I don’t wish to go there at the end of my days.”
The woman’s look softened as she stepped closer
once more. “Just the other day, Vesta warned me a person of unnatural birth might seek to corrupt our faith. Are you that individual, Senator?”
This time it was Hastelloy’s turn to project an air of great offense. “Certainly not! I only seek to grow in my faith, not impede upon yours.”
The two shared an awkward silence before Tomal stepped to the middle of the courtyard and introduced the evening’s entertainment. Without further ado, a graceful yet muscular man wearing only a loin cloth strutted into the middle and was met by a scantly clothed woman with flowing dark hair and the hard body of a dancer.
The two circled each other
in erotic dance as the stringed music grew in pitch and ferocity. At the climax of the crescendo the man thrust the woman into the air and an impressive exhibition of strength and ballet ensued. The two were soon joined by a dozen more male and female dancers. One by one, articles of clothing were removed during the course of the dance and eventually the artistic display degraded into a pornographic exhibition that encouraged the party goers to join.
The orgy was well underway when Tomal rejoined Hastelloy and the Vestalis Maximus
away from the action. “Did you enjoy the performance?”
“I did indeed,” the priestess complemented. “I do believe I will take my leave of the festivities now as a seventy year old virgin will not be useful from here on out.”
“Indeed,” Tomal said as he escorted the dignified woman to the door. “I commend your faith and strength of will. I couldn’t go without sex for even a few days, let alone an entire life time.”
“It is made easy for the Vestals,” she said on her way out the door. “Violating the vow of chastity carries a sentence of being buried alive.”
When the priestess was out of sight Tomal shut the door and turned to Hastelloy, “I think I’d still give in.”
Hastelloy laughed and clapped Tomal on the shoulder. “There’s not a doubt in my mind that you would.”
Tomal moved to rejoin the party but Hastelloy tightened his grip to keep him in place. “We need to talk about business first. Gaius Julius Caesar is growing in power, skill and ambition. Plus he possesses a remarkable ability to inspire loyalty in his men. These traits added to the vast fortune he is amassing in the Gailic wars up north make him a powerful man.”
“Yes they do,” Tomal agreed. “What does that have to do with me?”
“His influence has grown to the point I need someone close to him. The lineage of the name you use, Marcus Antonius, makes you a second cousin to Caesar and our best inroad to his inner circle.”
“That’s fine. I can
invite his family to the next party to lay the groundwork,” Tomal suggested.
“I’m afraid that won’t do. We need to reach the man himself, not just his wife, sisters and nephews. I need you to join his army up north.”
“I will do no such thing,” Tomal protested. “You want me to give up everything that I own.” Tomal gestured wide with his arms. “All this to go live under a cold, bug infested tent in the middle of nowhere. Are you out of your mind?”
Hastelloy caught Gallono’s attention and beckoned him to join the discussion with a subtle nod.
Tomal saw the additional muscle coming and declared his resolve. “I don’t care what you say or do, I will not go live in the forest like some animal.”
Hastelloy let slip a slight grin of amusement. “Tomal, I’m not going to do or say anything. I am simply not going to do something.”
The furrowed brow clearly showed Tomal was not following the discussion.
“I am not going to pay the latest collection notice
from your creditors or any others going forward,” Hastelloy instructed. “You owe over five million sesterces to some very shady characters. They will be the ones to run you out of this city, not me.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Tomal squea
ked, knowing full well he was a dead man without Hastelloy’s patronage.
“Look on the bright side
, Tomal. There is a lot of money to be made in the wars up north. You have a strong military record and will probably be granted a high level command in Caesar’s legions. You’ll be entitled to a portion of the plunder the men under your command take.”
“Just think how nice it’ll be
returning to Rome as Caesar’s wealthy right hand man,” Gallono added. “All the respect it will carry, and your wealth might actually be for real rather than borrowed.”
Tomal was still not convinced. “Why me
? Why don’t you send this meat head?” gesturing to Gallono. “He sits around all day and accomplishes nothing. He’s worthless here unless some brainless thug work needs doing. At least I’ve cultivated complex social connections we can use.”
Hastelloy stepped between the two men before
it came to blows. “Commander Gallono’s purpose is none of your concern. You will leave to go north tomorrow. Now go enjoy your farewell party, and send Tonwen and Valnor out. We’re leaving.”
Tomal pounded off in a huff,
ready to breath fire. With him out of ear shot Gallono asked of his captain. “What is my purpose right now?”
Hastelloy turned to face his first officer. “Patience Gallono, all the pieces are still moving into position.”
“They’d better hurry the hell up because there is truth in what Tomal just said and it doesn’t sit well with me.”
On the walk back to his villa, Hastelloy moved along side Valnor.
“I had a disturbing conversation with the head priestess of the college of Vestals. Something in what she said concerns me so I need you to befriend and get close to at least one of the Vestals.”
“Why me,” Valnor asked nervously.
“Because you still remain dedicated to your wife and will therefore be easier for a Vestal to befriend since you’ll pose no temptation to break her vow of chastity. Can you do this?”
The apprehensive ensign gave a hesitant nod.
Hastelloy could easily see he needed to bolster the young man’s confidence. “Valnor, your life force has been around now for almost two thousand years. It’s time you step out of your protective cocoon and start embracing risks and responsibility. You are more than ready, and I’m giving you free reign on this assignment. There will be no meddling or supervision on my part.”
Valnor took in a deep breath, straightened his posture as a visible sign of him rising to the challenge, “I won’t let you down.”
Hastelloy put his arm around the young man and gave him a gentle shake, “I know.”
Gallono glanced back with a
frustrated look. Everyone had something to do except him.