Old Earth (40 page)

“Well, let me rephrase that. I have faith in the direction Galileo took.” Then he corrected himself. “No, I’m convinced. This way.” He pointed to the left.

“Why there?” she still wondered.

“It would have been natural for Galileo. He was left-handed.”

“You know he was left-handed?” McCauley was amazed.

“I do.”

“But in those days,” Quinn recalled, “wasn’t a dominant left hand considered the mark of the devil? A negative trait the church knuckle-thwacked out of people?”

“More schools than the Catholic Church. Okay, some of them religious schools. But the pejorative connotation really goes back to the Greek word, meaning weak and the Latin synonym for left which is sinister,
sinistra/sinistrum
. Right-handed in Latin is
dexter,
like in dexterity or skill. So you can see how language led to habitual thinking.”

“But you’re convinced he would have unconsciously veered left?”

“Completely convinced, Katrina.”

“What if left didn’t lead anywhere and he came back to this point and went down the right fork?”

“Well then, we’ll be doing the same thing. But first, left it is.”

And left it was. At the fourth narrow passageway, McCauley’s flashlight flickered. It was the signal he had anticipated.

He twisted around in the cramped space. Katrina’s light was also fluttering. The last thing she saw before it went out was McCauley smiling.

“What’s the matter?” Eccleston asked.

“This is it,” she replied.

“How do you know?”

“Come a few feet closer. Watch your flashlight.”

“What?”

“The electronics,” she explained. “Galileo didn’t have that problem. We do. But it means we’re close. Really close. Time for the lamps. I’ll do mine. Just follow until we get more room to work in, then light yours.”

The passageway brightened and widened. Soon they were able to stand side-by-side. Now all three lamps were illuminated and focused forward, revealing the opening to another more remarkable cavern.

The entrance expanded into a space too large for their lights to fully flood, more magnificent than imaginable.

“
In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places
,” Eccleston said.

“What’s that from?” McCauley said raising his torch.

The priest explained as McCauley examined the ceiling. “John 14:2. From
The Holy Gospel According to John
. ‘
In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may also be
.
’
”

“Well, if this is God’s house, Father, he’s a phenomenal architect.”

“None more creative, Quinn.”

The lamp lights revealed a ceiling that appeared to be two stories high with glistening crystals and colors that had no names.

McCauley strained to get a sense of the true size. He took a few steps to the side. “More light.”

Katrina and Eccleston lifted their torches.

“Higher.”

The priest had the height advantage. Alpert did the best she could.

“Come closer.”

Combined, the lights brightened the ceiling enough to detect a curvature. “Higher than I thought. Thirty feet? Forty?” He wasn’t sure. “Let’s keep walking. Looks like the cavern closes in again up ahead,” he said.

They took twenty cautious steps around golden formations of stalagmites. Then darkness.

“Watch your head. The ceiling’s dropping fast,” McCauley warned. “And the passage looks narrower. Can’t see much.”

But it wasn’t that the ceiling was lower or the walkway was narrowing. No matter how McCauley held his lamp or focused the beam, the approaching section of the cavern was in pitch black.

He held his hand out in front, groping for obstructions, yet touching nothing. “Stop.”

Alpert and Eccleston huddled close. They could see one another, but nothing ahead, to the sides or above.

“Like Montana,” Katrina whispered, almost afraid to speak louder.

“And Denisova,” Father Eccleston added.

“This is it. But if there are more spurs, we could get lost,” McCauley realized.

“Galileo was inquisitive, but he wasn’t crazy,” Eccleston explained. “I’m sure he found something otherwise he would have turned back with the same worry.”

“So one step at a time?” McCauley proposed.

“Yes, but together,” Katrina said.

McCauley took the lead. “I’ll cover the front. Katrina, you keep feeling for the sides. Father, you’re the tallest. Make sure the ceiling’s not closing in on us.”

They proceeded. Three walking as one. A minute later McCauley called a halt.

“Dead end.” He felt a surface, but it wasn’t rock, not even igneous It was smooth to the touch; polished. Neither hot nor cold. It was just there.

“Amazing,” Father Eccleston said reaching out. “It’s…” he searched for the right word. “Perfection.”

Seventy-eight

Katrina touched the smooth surface and held the light to her hand. There wasn’t a speck of dust.

“The properties are amazing. It repels dirt and disrupts electrical pulses in its realm. How, Father?”

Eccleston affirmed Katrina’s observation. “Science I can’t explain. But rest assured, it’s surely science. No matter what Denisova or the old priest thought, this isn’t the devil’s work. Galileo recognized it.” He paused. “No, he understood it. He got inside. Now we have to.”

McCauley began to feel along the wall he couldn’t see. So did Alpert and Eccleston. They gradually spread out, McCauley to the left touching middle-to-high; Katrina below him, the priest to their right. It was the left that brought results.

“Got it,” McCauley said. The base of the prime pyramid was embedded at roughly waist level, angling upwards into a triangle, meeting at a point marked by one indentation.

“Okay, okay. So prime numbers are the universal standard that can reach across all space and time, right?”

“Correct,” Eccleston said.

“And although we don’t know
who
inserted the prime pyramids or
why
, I suspect the
what
begins right here. This is it. This is the lock. We need to figure out the key.”

“Galileo wrote about
la chiave
, the key,” Eccleston exclaimed.

“Yes, but he didn’t leave it,” Katrina added.

“Perhaps so it wouldn’t be so easy for others,” the Vatican scientist deduced. “But there are some number games related to primes that a mathematician would know. And Galileo was a mathematician.”

“My God,” McCauley said, “I used to do them in grad school. One of them dealt with squaring any prime bigger than five. Then add— ”

“Seventeen,” Eccleston interrupted, “and divide by twelve.”

“And?” Katrina asked not knowing the trick, and not being able to work the problem so quickly in her head.

“There’s always a remainder of .6,” McCauley said.

“Or .5 on a calculator,” Eccleston added. He went through a few easy examples. Each time the remainder turned out the same.

“Okay, so what do we do with that?” she continued.

They couldn’t come up with any solutions. Everything in the pyramid was representative of whole numbers, not fractions.

“All this way and we can’t get any further” Katrina was disappointed. “What did Galileo know that we don’t know.”

“Not
know
. What did he
try
that we haven’t tried?” Eccleston thought for a moment. “I remember another prime number brain teaser,” he said. “Even easier. Square any prime number larger than three. Subtract one. See what happens.”

McCauley tried it once with five, then again with seven and eleven. He smiled. Katrina was doing the same with numbers of her choosing. This time she got the formula. “It’s always divisible by twenty-four!”

“Right. The remainder is twenty-four. So back to the pyramid. Where can we find twenty-four?”

McCauley removed the prime pyramid cheat sheet from under his sweater He shined his light on it. “Whoops, twenty-four isn’t a prime number.”

“No,” Eccleston said looking over his shoulder. “But there are twos and fours. Fourth row there’s both. I’ll try them.” Eccleston pressed the indentations. Nothing happened.

“Maybe we add up numbers to get twenty-four.” Katrina suggested. “I’ll show you.”

She pointed to the number one at the apex, then another one on the second row. “One plus one equals two,” she explained. Then add the next two on the second row. That’s four. So, twenty-four?”

“We’re here, let’s try,” Eccleston said lightly.

The priest started at the top, pressing each of the perfectly imprinted notches in the unknown metal. Finishing on the second row, he stood back and waited.

Again, nothing.

“Too simple and too complicated at the same time,” McCauley offered. But the key has to be hiding in plain sight. Galileo got it.”

McCauley scanned his sheet one more time. “We can add up the numbers, but do the numbers add up to anything?”

“In the prime pyramid they always do,” Eccleston explained.

“Right, but what if the answer is already
in
the prime pyramid. Back to what we were trying before. If it’s related to the mathematical equation let’s just go to the answer in its most simplest form.”

“Alright, here and here,” Eccleston said, pointing to the number two on the second row and the four on the fourth row. “That’s where they first appear.”

“My thought exactly,” McCauley said.

The Yale professor returned to the black wall, felt for the correct orientation and began to count as he touched the first two depressions followed by the four on the row two down. “One, two and one, two, three, four.”

Quinn McCauley was filled with anticipation, but once more, the supposition failed.

“It’s a dead end,” Katrina reluctantly admitted.

McCauley stared straight ahead silently. He couldn’t see a thing, which suddenly made the answer all the more clear to him. He smiled.

“Take my light, Katrina.” With self-assurance he asked, “Twenty-four, right?”

“Well…” Now, Eccleston wasn’t any more confident than Katrina. “Twenty-four if… .”

“Good, just checking. He flexed his fingers. “Twenty-four it is.”

Extending two fingers on his left hand and four fingers on his right, he felt for all of the notches he had just touched one at a time. Finding them, he eased back. “Here goes.” With another deep breath, he gently pressed them
simultaneously
. “Twenty-four,” he whispered.

Five seconds of disappointment. Five seconds of wondering if he had found
le chiave
, or ever would. Then their ears suddenly began to ache as air pressure in the cave changed. They heard a muffled sound beyond the wall, like hydraulics or a motor. Then they felt air flowing towards them, first at foot level, then gradually higher to above their heads. Though they couldn’t yet see, a large section of the wall containing the prime pyramid rose.

Compelled by curiosity, and in the priest’s mind, probably some faith, the trio ventured forward. Without realizing it, they held hands and entered…
somewhere
.

Moments later, the perfect black began to lighten. First to an appreciable black, then a dark gray through increasing lighter tones, and ultimately to the whitest white they’d ever perceived. The change occurred over more than a minute, allowing their eyes to adjust. Soon they realized they were within a vast environment, but they could no better judge it by height, width, or depth than the black that had preceded it. It had no visible light source, yet everything—the ceiling, the walls, the floor—were illuminated to the same bright white level.

“Amazing,” Katrina said.

“Extraordinary,” Eccleston exclaimed.

“Where are we?” McCauley managed

“
When
are we?” Eccleston proposed. He didn’t have the chance to explain himself.

“Turn around slowly! Very slowly!”

It was a sharp order from a voice at the entrance to the chamber. Demanding, insistent. Most of all, threatening.

Seventy-nine

“Dr. McCauley, Dr. Alpert and Fr. Eccleston. I commend the three of you on your quest. Thank you for lighting the way.”

A man stepped forward. He held a semi-automatic pistol in his right hand and a flashlight that wasn’t working in his left.

“Would you describe it as holy or scientific? Or wholly scientific?” he asked.

McCauley judged him to be about six feet, bald and thin, maybe forty or forty-five. He wasn’t dressed for the job at hand, whether it was cave exploring or murder. He wore tan pants, now filthy, and a light blue pull-over sweater. McCauley recognized him: the man who had stood outside Eccleston’s apartment.

McCauley held his left arm out and waved Katrina behind. “Who are you?”

“An unimportant question.”

Katrina now also recognized him. She started to speak, but McCauley squeezed her hand and whispered, “I know.”

“I think you can put the gun away,” the priest implored.