Journey Through the Mirrors (29 page)

“Yes, but you’re missing something,” Madu said, and he picked up one of the ceramic whistles in the corner of the room and placed it between Logan’s hands. “Now your pose is complete.”

“The praying Logan,” Mr. Perrot said with a chuckle.

Logan looked over at the skeletons. “Those two must have known what this place was all about.”

“Let’s continue with the train of thought concerning sound,” Mr. Perrot said.

“Agreed,” Logan said. “What if something down here acts as the pyramid’s on-and-off switch? And what if the statue is demonstrating how that switch works?” He blew into the whistle. The three of them looked up at the chamber’s ceiling, surprised by the reverberation of the sound.

“Excellent acoustics,” Mr. Perrot said. The harmonic continued for a few moments before fading. Mr. Perrot pointed to the ceiling. “It is possible that these shafts extend throughout the pyramid somehow, allowing the sound to spread.”

Madu picked up two more whistles from the ground. “Try the one with the painting of a goat on it,” he said as he handed it to Mr. Perrot. “I’ll try the one with the picture of an ox.” The two of them joined Logan near the mica platform. They all blew into the stems of their whistles. A richer sound now echoed throughout the chamber. The three different sounds from the whistles blended together to create a completely new reverberation and harmonic.

Mr. Perrot spotted the four other whistles on the ground. “I don’t know much about music, but I can safely say there are potentially thousands of harmonics that could be created by combining the sounds of these whistles.”

Logan rose to his feet, set the whistle he was holding on the mica platform, and walked over to a pair of long, thin sticks that were leaning against the wall. “Have you been able to determine what these rods were used for?” he asked Madu.

Mr. Perrot handed his whistle to Madu and walked over to Logan. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped some of the oxidation off the rod, scratching it with his fingernail. “It looks like copper.”

“Did this pyramid ever have a capstone?” Logan asked.

“I suspect it did,” Madu replied. “But as with the other pyramids around the world, the capstone was probably stolen by raiders long ago. Egyptologists speculate that the capstone of the Great Pyramid in Giza was wrapped in metal—some say gold, others say copper.”

“Wouldn’t one of Tesla’s theories come into play, then?” Logan asked Madu, who nodded. “You said earlier that an electrical charge naturally exists between two metallic points positioned at different heights.”

“And we know that this room is in perfect alignment with the apex,” Mr. Perrot added.

“May I see the end of that rod?” Logan requested. Mr. Perrot
handed it to him. He ran his finger over it from top to bottom. “Look at how the last quarter of the rod is thinner than the rest of it. You can feel the change in diameter at this point here.” He put his index finger on the point in question. Madu came over to inspect it.

Mr. Perrot went over to the mica platform where Logan had been kneeling. He squatted and examined the image of the coiled serpent carved there. “In certain metaphysical teachings, coiled serpents represent energy,” he said.

“Isn’t there something in the
Chronicles
about that?” Logan asked.

“A coiled river of energy waits eagerly to be released in the tiniest of cells to the stoutest of men. With simple decree, the power of a thousand suns can be rallied forth into the reality of life. It is the spiral serpent known as Zakti,” Madu recited.

Mr. Perrot rose and stepped off the platform. As he did so, he accidentally kicked the red stone that formed the eye of the serpent, dislodging it. Water could be heard running under the floor. “I hear the trickle of water.”

“Yes,” Madu said. “We suspect that a strong river used to flow under the pyramid, not just the trickle you hear now.”

Logan watched Mr. Perrot bend back down and put his right index finger into the hole. As a thought occurred to him, he carried the rod over to the platform. Mr. Perrot stepped back. “You said the eye was in perfect alignment with the apex. Assuming that this copper rod represented the point of conductivity beneath the capstone”—Logan positioned the thinner end of the rod above the hole—“this would be a perfect place for it to go.” He inserted the thinner end of the rod into the hole. When he removed his grip, the rod stood vertically on its own.

“So in theory,” Mr. Perrot said, “if there were a capstone at the apex, a small yet measurable amount of electricity would be detectable, correct?”

“That is what Tesla proved,” Madu acknowledged.

“So now the only thing we need is a way to amplify the current,” Logan said, picking up the whistling vessel from the platform and
blowing into it as he had done before. The harmonic echoed through the chamber, and the copper rod began to vibrate, making a twanging sound. Logan blew into the whistle again, with more force. The rod vibrated more vigorously. Taking Logan’s cue, Madu handed Mr. Perrot a whistling vessel and picked up another one. They blew into them simultaneously, and an intense harmonic was created. The copper rod oscillated back and forth. Logan stepped off the platform, not wanting to get hit by the now rapidly swaying rod. Suddenly, the rod sprang out of the hole and flew across the chamber, crashing into the sealed opening near the two skeletons.

“Well.” Logan watched in amazement. “I think we are definitely onto something.”

“Not only do these whistles cause a harmonic that is enhanced by the acoustics of this chamber,” Mr. Perrot said, “but the harmonic affects the copper rod in a very profound way.”

“I doubt if an out-of-control copper rod is what the people who built this chamber intended, though,” Logan said.

“No, this must be one of the side effects that Tesla warned about,” Mr. Perrot said. “Without the proper harmonic, who knows what can happen?”

“The lack of a proper capstone in place could also account for unpredictable results,” Madu added.

Mr. Perrot walked over to the sealed doorway. A piece of its thin plaster façade had broken off where the rod had struck it, revealing the head of a painted horse. “There is something beneath this plaster.”

Madu turned toward Mr. Perrot and the sealed doorway. His eyes widened. He went over to a table and picked up a few scraping tools. In five minutes, he and Mr. Perrot were able to remove the plaster.

“It’s a mural,” Logan observed from behind them. They stepped back and saw that it was a painting of a battle. Below it, another scene was depicted: two men in robes constructing a wall. “What does it mean?”

Madu pointed to the top of the mural. “Teotihuacán was attacked. This shows a king leading his marauding army down the Avenue of the
Dead toward the Moon Pyramid. They are killing everything in sight. Look at the burning fields and the slaughtered cattle.”

“This supports your theory that Teotihuacán was sacked,” Logan said.

“And it was surrounded by lush farmland.” Mr. Perrot gestured to the scenery in the background.

Madu pointed to the middle of the mural. “Here are two people running into the Moon Pyramid.” He moved his finger farther to the right. “Here they are pulling a cart and running through a tunnel toward a room.”

Logan looked away from the mural to the small wooden cart in the corner near the two skeletons. “Looks like we know what room these two were fleeing to,” he said.

After a solemn pause, Madu continued with his interpretation of the mural. “The last scene shows them constructing this wall.”

“They buried themselves in here.” Logan looked at the two skeletons.

“They didn’t want the invaders to find this room.” Mr. Perrot agreed, squatting down next to one of the skeletons. “They’re dressed similarly to the two people running in the mural. Look at this.” Both Logan and Madu squatted down next to Mr. Perrot. “Look at the copper headband this man is wearing.”

“The Satraya symbols along with the snowflake. Just like the statue and the wall paintings,” Logan said. “I think there’s more to this snowflake than we are giving credit to.”

Mr. Perrot attempted to lift the headband up over the skull. As he did so, the skull fell off the corpse and rolled to the ground. The men jumped back, startled. “I apologize,” Mr. Perrot said, “but I believe we are about to learn something significant.”

“This one also has a headband,” Madu said of the other skeleton. He carefully removed it, leaving the bones intact. Suddenly, the ground began to shake. The three men stood still, looking at one another for several seconds, but the shaking didn’t stop.

“Another earthquake,” Logan said. “We have to get out of here!”

The shaking intensified. Chunks of stone fell from the ceiling. Logan ran to the table for his backpack and the silver case containing the reconstructed stone whistle.

“Take as much as you can!” Madu shouted. He grabbed the copper rod and the three whistles. But before he could get to the other four, a large rock fell and crashed down on them.

Logan grabbed some of the broken pottery off the table and stuffed it into his backpack. He used the worn string to better secure his overflowing pack. A monstrous rumbling filled the chamber as the ground shifted beneath their feet. More stones dropped from the ceiling, one landing on the mica platform. Logan handed the silver case to Mr. Perrot. One by one, they stepped into the small metal cage elevator, hoping it would rise as the Moon Pyramid broke apart around them.

32

How do you expect to find what you’re looking for if you never start looking for it?

—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

NOVACON ISLAND, 4:05 P.M. LOCAL TIME, MARCH 23, 2070

“This is too dangerous, Doctors,” the technician warned. “We have already seen what introducing more radioactive isotopes has done. I’m shutting down the core.” The technician frantically maneuvered a set of controls in front of him.

“There is . . .” said the male doctor, dressed all in black.

“No proof of that,” continued the female doctor, who was dressed all in white.

“The earthquakes . . .” said the male doctor.

“Are simply coincidental,” said the female doctor.

“Coincidental?” The technician raised his voice. “Are you kidding me? Each time we do this, the seismic activity on the island spikes, and within moments, we hear reports of earthquakes from all over the globe. Just look at what is happening out there. We’re killing people. We have to stop this now!”

The doctors exchanged glances before turning back to the rebellious technician. “People die . . .” said the male doctor.

“Every day,” finished the female doctor, and she motioned to two armed security guards standing nearby. “Discharge this man. Martin does not serve us any longer.”

The two guards quickly walked over to the technician. One grabbed him by the arm. The other grabbed his briefcase. Martin was forcibly escorted to a set of doors that automatically opened as they approached. The three men stepped into the elevator car, and the doors closed behind them.

Just then, another set of doors to the control center opened. Dario entered, a humming emanating from his black business suit as he walked in. Catherine and Yinsir accompanied him. Rashidi followed them.

“Hello, Doctors,” Catherine said. “How goes the testing?”

The two doctors turned simultaneously and walked over to her in unison. Yinsir gazed in amazement at the odd pair.

Catherine smiled. “Yinsir, I would like to introduce you to Dr. Rosa and Dr. Josef. The world’s first set of neurologically conjoined twins.”

The doctors bowed. Yinsir responded in kind. The twins were exactly the same height, standing a meter and a half tall. They had flawless pale skin and matching green eyes. Their short brown hair, which barely covered their ears, did nothing to soften their identical cold, expressionless faces.

“Do not let their size or appearances fool you,” Dario said in his raspy voice. “While the twins may have been born with some physical deficits, their neuro interface allows their brains to act as one.”

“From an intellectual point of view,” Catherine added, “these two might be the smartest single person on the planet.”

“An interesting way to put it,” Yinsir said.

“Please, turn around, Doctors. Show our friend here what we are talking about.”

The doctors turned in unison. At the base of each of their skulls was a small disk-like device flashing a series of green, blue, and red lights.

“They act as one,” Dario said. “Their brains are fused together to the point where they complete each other’s thoughts.”

“However, when they analyze a problem,” Catherine said, “each can process a different part of the problem at the same time. Their thoughts are transmitted back and forth to each other almost instantaneously. Their combined brain power is exponentially greater than that of any single person with the IQ of a genius.”

“It must get pretty loud in their heads,” Yinsir said with a laugh.

The doctors turned back around. “Thoughts are . . .” said Dr. Josef.

“Not loud,” Dr. Rosa stated.

“Feeble minds . . .” continued Dr. Josef.

“Are loud.”

“Yes, Doctors, you are right, as always,” Catherine said. “Please continue with your work. We don’t want to hinder your progress.”

The doctors walked to a group of technicians who were seated at numerically identified work stations on a circular platform fifteen meters in diameter. Each technician sat in an ergonomically designed chair in front of a computer whose thin glass display showed a variety of readings. The technicians wore contact lenses optically connected to the displays in front of them, which made their eyes glow neon green.

Catherine, Dario, and Yinsir went to the side of the room and observed.

“Let us . . .” said Dr. Rosa.

“Try again,” added Dr. Josef.

The technicians began to perform their tasks. “What is the status of . . .” said Dr. Rosa.

“The radical EM wave?” asked Dr. Josef.

“Zero hertz. No wave is present, Doctors,” answered the female technician seated at console fourteen.