Journey Into the Flame (42 page)

51

For a master teacher, the simple choice of a student to dare to cross into the unknown is the greatest acknowledgment of what the student has been taught.

—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

OVER THE ATLANTIC OCEAN, MIDNIGHT, GMT,

23 HOURS UNTIL LIBERTY MOMENT

“Tell the teams they can’t take no for an answer,” Valerie instructed Alex on her PCD. “Make sure they remind the WSA that we’re consultants who are supposed to support their efforts any way we can. We need to know what the WSA is doing.”

“I’ll relay the message,” Alex said. “The trace came back on the money deposits into Monique Sato’s bank account. They came from an overseas account registered to the Sentinel Coterie.”

“Well, that confirms our suspicions,” said Valerie. “Fenquist must have been paying her to spy on Cynthia and the Council. Was there anyone she wasn’t working for?”

“We tried the last call she made from the airport,” Alex added. “But it went to an untraceable PCD.”

Valerie shook her head in frustration. “I’ll call you again when we land in Dharan.”

“Wait, there’s one more thing,” Alex said. “I got a message from someone at the WSA that Director Ramplet is looking for the frequency
device we were supposed to send over. They can’t seem to find it anywhere.”

“It’s probably in transit through their bureaucracy. Tell them we’ll look into it when we get back.” Valerie turned off her PCD and rejoined Sylvia and Logan. The three of them were flying over the Atlantic Ocean in a WCF transport plane on their way to the Akasha Vault, which was located in the foothills of the Himalayas. Sylvia was explaining the particulars of the Vault to Logan.

“The WSA asked about the frequency device,” Valerie said, interrupting their conversation.

The three of them looked innocently at one another. “We’ll be sure to get it to them when we get back to D.C.,” Logan said as he unzipped his backpack, revealing the EMFE device. They all grinned. None of them was going to let the frequency generator out of their sight, at least not yet.

“Now, what were you saying, Sylvia?” Valerie said.

“The Vault is in the northern part of the city of Dharan.” Sylvia used a HoloPad to project a map of Nepal.

“Why choose such a remote location for storing all the world’s information, not to mention that quantum computer?” Logan asked.

“For that exact reason,” Sylvia said. “It’s a remote location, protected by the Himalayas to the north, surrounded by hills to the east and west, and the Charkose forest to the south. Dharan has a temperate climate year-round, and there are two rivers there which are used to cool the core of the computer and the Tesla coil that powers the facility.”

“The WFR spent a lot of money building and securing this facility,” Valerie added. “After the world lost so much technology and information during the Great Disruption, we needed a better way to protect data and information. Hence the Vault.”

“It was named after the Akashic Record,” Sylvia said.

Valerie looked at her blankly.

“It’s an ancient Indian term,” Logan explained. “It’s believed that everything that has ever happened in the universe since the beginning
of time is recorded in a nonphysical realm. They call that place the Akashic Record.”

“A twentieth-century quantum physicist named David Bohm performed some interesting work in this field, trying to merge certain religious beliefs with science,” Sylvia added. “A couple of scientists who worked on the original design of the Vault gave it that nickname, and it stuck.”

She continued, zooming in on the map. “But back to the matter at hand. The newly constructed airport is to the east of the facility, on the other side of the river. We have to cross this bridge once we land.” She panned to another part of the projected image. “There’s an advanced transportation system, like a monorail, that connects the main facility with the airport and the town below.” She zoomed the map way out so that an image of the whole world was displayed. “There are sixty-six Vault satellites in orbit around the earth at an altitude of seven hundred eighty kilometers. They cover a surface area of almost eight million square kilometers. Every sixty minutes or so, one of them passes directly over the Vault, and the quantum computer there uploads all the new data it received within the last hour.” She zoomed to an image of one of the satellites. “Once a particular satellite receives the upload, it replicates that information and sends it to the other sixty-five satellites.”

“So that means there are always sixty-six constant backups,” Logan said. “Gives new meaning to the term
vault of heaven
.”

“That’s almost correct,” Sylvia said. “Deep underground, below the quantum computer, there are twelve more backup centers. They were built in case something happens to the satellites.”

“These satellites can deliver the frequency pulse?” Valerie asked.

“Yes, even though those WSA scientists don’t think so. I’ve read a lot of research on the Tesla coils in each of the satellites. They can pack a punch.” Sylvia rotated the satellite image. “Each of them also has a frequency modulation array, which they use to communicate with the Vault. Each one can independently change its communication frequency based on any normal atmospheric disturbance, small radiation flares, or
low-disturbance solar storms. That helps to ensure that they are in constant contact with the Vault and the other satellites around them. So among all of them, they can cover the globe and not miss one inch.”

“I’m impressed that you know so much about how the Vault operates,” Valerie said with a raised eyebrow. “What’s the first step when we get there?”

“We need to make our way to the Satellite Control Center. If Simon and Andrea are going to use the Vault to send the pulse, they will need to do it from the SCC.” Sylvia zoomed to another image. “The SCC is underground, below the transmission array and above the quantum computer. The data centers and the power plant are located even farther belowground.”

The projection of the SCC was disrupted by an incoming call and a projection of Alex and Goshi. “We just got the biometric report on Monique Sato, and it confirmed that she was telling the truth,” Alex said. “MedicalPod records show that she received all her quarterly injections, but she didn’t show any signs of having a DNA collar. Looks like her story about the green pills is true.”

“So there must be some kind of antidote out there that prevents the collar from attaching itself to the DNA,” Valerie said.

“Lucius offered me one of those green pills when he stalked me at the museum,” Logan broke in. “I should have grabbed the whole damn container.”

Alex nodded. “We looked through the security footage from the airport and found a shot of the woman called Gretchen.” He brought up the image for all to see. It showed a close-up of a woman escorting Andrea and Lucius through an exit door at the airport.

“Who is she?” Valerie asked.

“We don’t know,” Alex said. “There’s no information about her anywhere. Even the WSA database doesn’t show anything.”

“We also have no idea how Monique’s identification glass and her PCD were reprogrammed,” Goshi said. “Whoever helped them with that had some pretty fancy equipment.”

“Fancy, as in WCF or WSA,” Alex added with a dour look.

“Are you saying that someone at the WCF or the WSA is helping them?” Logan asked.

Everyone was silent for a moment.

“Makes me wonder,” Alex said. “How did the assassin know that we had Monique in custody?”

After another moment of silence, Valerie said, “All we can do is keep putting the pieces together. Right now, our job is to stop the frequency pulse. We’ll deal with the insider problem later.”

“There’s one more thing,” Alex said before Valerie could disconnect. “Make sure you check out the Daily.”

Valerie nodded and ended her call.

“What’s the Daily?” Logan asked.

“It’s a report we get every day that provides a brief of noteworthy criminal events from WCF and WSA offices around the world,” Sylvia explained. “Keeps everyone informed.”

Valerie projected the WCF Daily using the HoloPad. There was only a single item, a report from the WCF field office in Delhi, India.

“Disintegrated,” Sylvia repeated. “Just like at the lab.”

Valerie nodded. “It appears that Simon and Andrea may have another EMFE device or some other localized way to deploy the frequency pulse.”

“Children,” Logan said in a low voice, as the faces of Jamie and Jordan flashed in his mind. He saw their smiles and their matching green eyes. “What do you think happened to the children?”

Neither Valerie nor Sylvia answered. But they could see the concern on Logan’s face.

He used his PCD and placed a call to his ex-wife; he wanted to speak with his children. But after several rings, there was still no answer. He ended the call and sat back in his chair. They were probably on their way to the nearby campground where they enjoyed spending Freedom Day and taking part in the lakeside activities. He shook his head in fear at the irony of it all. His children and the rest of the world would be celebrating their lives, while the Final Purging tried to end them . . .

The plane would be landing at the Vault in about ten hours. Logan asked Sylvia if he could use her PCD to view some of the doctor’s notes that they had confiscated from G-LAB. She handed Logan her PCD and leaned back in her seat to get some sleep, while Valerie went up front to speak with the pilots. Logan navigated to the doctor’s notes on Michelangelo’s
Creation of Adam
fresco. Maybe there was something in the notes that he had missed.

52

The greatest thing that you can do for another is to take away his excuses. That way, he can never say, “I did not know” or “I was never told.”

—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

BANARAS, INDIA, 7:30 A.M. LOCAL TIME,

21 HOURS UNTIL LIBERTY MOMENT

“I suppose there are worse places to die,” Simon said coldly.

Kneeling next to the limp body of agent Jogindra Bassi—Jogi, as he was affectionately called—Mr. Perrot surreptitiously tucked something under his deceased friend’s right shoulder.

“From what I hear, it is a great honor to die in this place,” Simon continued in a mocking tone. “How convenient that the cremation pyres are just over there. Come, now, stand up, Robert. There is nothing you can do for him.”

“You didn’t have to kill him,” Mr. Perrot said as he stood. “He was a good lad.” Mr. Perrot saw that Simon’s thug was now pointing his gun at him.

“I will have to take your word on that,” Simon said. He took off his hat and wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “It has certainly been a long time. You and Camden had us all fooled. I have to hand it to the two of you. You certainly have made things difficult for my family over the years.”

“When is this trail of bodies going to end, Simon? It seems that you are to blame for the death of every person dear to me whom I’ve lost over the past two years. Beginning with my old friend Camden and ending with my newest colleague here.” He pointed a finger at Jogi’s corpse.

“Oh, I doubt it will end here,” Simon retorted with a mean laugh. “I can probably come up with a few more corpses for you, Robert.”

“We know about your plans,” Mr. Perrot answered in a threatening voice. “We know what you and Andrea are up to.”

Simon shrugged. “Well, then you should know that everything is moving forward according to schedule.” He paused for a moment and took a seat on a block of stone. He looked at Mr. Perrot inquisitively. “You know, when we arrived at the ghat, I didn’t recognize you at first. But there was something that looked familiar. Didn’t I say he looked familiar?” Simon asked his bodyguard.

The thug nodded. Then he walked over to Jogi’s body, picked up his gun, and took the PCD, which was still illuminating the small room. “Where’s yours?” he coldly asked Mr. Perrot.

“I’m an old man,” Mr. Perrot answered. “What would I do with one of those?”

Simon’s man walked back over to the entrance and stood there.

“I kept watching you walk around,” Simon continued. “The two of you looked like you were searching for something. When I saw your friend go and get some tools, I could not help but wonder if you were looking for the same thing I was looking for. And then it hit me. Your face flashed in my mind. ‘Robert Tilbo,’ I said to myself. Funny how the brain works, isn’t it? I have to say that it was a brilliant decision on your part to look in here. I never would have figured out that ‘ear stone’ riddle. That was very well done.”

“I know why you want the books,” Mr. Perrot countered. “I know about the hidden symbols on the blank pages.”

“Hidden symbols?” Simon said, feigning ignorance with a thin smile. “What kind of nonsense are you spouting? I am a collector, a modern-day treasure hunter. I only want to complete my collection.”

Mr. Perrot shook his head, giving a defiant look. “The books are not here.”

Simon’s smug demeanor slipped. “Then where are they?” he demanded.

Mr. Perrot stepped to the side and pointed.

Simon rose from his seat and stood in front of the words chiseled into the wall. “How many damn riddles do I need to solve?” In a fury, he took out his PCD and snapped a picture of the message. After reading it, he took a deep breath and tried calming himself. “This riddle actually seems easier than the others,” he said, rereading the words. “Those instructions seem simple enough. I don’t think I need you any longer, Robert.”