Temple (9 page)

“What we have been waiting for for the past twenty- seven years is
the discovery of a specimen of “live” thyrium, a specimen that is
still active on a molecular level. And now we think we've found it,
in a meteorite that crash-landed in
the jungles of Peru five hundred years ago.'
'So what does thyrium do?' Race asked.
'A lot,' Copeland said. 'A whole lot. For one thing, its potential
as a power source is astronomical. Conservative estimates predict
that a properly constituted thyrium reac tor would generate
electrical energy at a rate six hundred times greater than all the
nuclear power plants in the United States combined.
'But there's an added bonus. Unlike our terrestrial
nuclear elements, when thyrium is used as the core element of a
fusion reactor, it decomposes with one hundred per cent efficiency.
In other words, it leaves no contaminated waste byproducts. As
such, it is unlike any power source on this earth. Uranium waste
must be discarded in radioactive rods. Hell, even gasoline produces
carbon monoxide. But thyrium is clean. It is a perfectly efficient
power source. Per fect. It is so internally pure that, based on our
modelling, a raw sample of it would emit only microscopic
quantities of passive radiation.'
Race held up his hand. 'All right, all right. That all sounds
great, but last I heard, DARPA wasn't in the busi ness of providing
America with power stations. What else does thyrium do?'
Copeland smiled, caught.
'Professor, for the last ten years, DARPA's Tactical Tech nology
Office has been working on a new weapon, a weapon unlike anything
this world has ever seen. It is a device code- named
“Supernova”.'
As soon as Copeland said the word, something twigged in the back of
Race's mind. He recalled a conversation he'd overheard between
Copeland and Nash soon after he had boarded the plane. A
conversation in which they had men tioned a break-in at Fairfax
Drive and the theft of a device called a Supernova.
'What exactly is this Supernova?'
'Put simply,' Copeland said, 'the Supernova is the most powerful
weapon ever devised in the history of mankind.
It's what we call a planet killer.'
'A what?“
'A planet killer. A nuclear device so powerful that when detonated,
it would completely destroy nearly a third of the Earth's mass.
With a third of its mass gone, the Earth's orbit around the sun
would be corrupted. Our planet would spin out of control, out into
space, further and further away from the sun. Within minutes the
Earth's surface—what was left of it—would be too cold to sustain
human life. The Super nova, Professor Race, is the first man-made
device that is
capable of ending life as we know it on this planet. Hence its
namesake, the name we give to an exploding star.'
Race swallowed. In fact, he felt positively weak.
A million questions flooded his mind.
Like, why would someone build such a device? What possible reason
could there be for creating a weapon that could kill everyone on
the planet, including its own cre ators? And all that considered,
why was his country build ing it?
Copeland continued, 'The thing is, Professor, the Super nova that
we have at present is a prototype, a workable shell. That devicethe
device that was stolen from DARPA headquarters last night—is
useless. For the simple reason that the operation of the Supernova
requires the addition of one thing. Thyrium.'
Oh, great… Race thought.
'In this regard,' Copeland said, 'the Supernova is not all
that dissimilar to a neutron bomb. It is a fission device which
means it operates on the principle of splitting the thyrium atom.
Two conventional thermonuclear warheads are used to split a
subcritical mass of thyrium, unleashing the mega-explosion.'
'Okay, wait a second,' Race said. 'Let me get this straight.
You guys have built a weapon—a weapon that is capable of destroying
the planet—that is dependent upon an element that you don't even
have yet?'
'That's correct,' Copeland said.
'But why? Why is America building a weapon that can
do all this?'
Copeland nodded. 'That's always a difficult question to answer. I
mean—'
'There are two reasons,' a deeper voice said suddenly
from behind Race.
It was Frank Nash.
Nash nodded at the manuscript in Race's lap. 'Have you
found the location of the idol yet?'
'Not yet.'
'Then I'll make this quick so you can get back to work.
First of all, what I am about to tell you is of the utmost secrecy.
There are sixteen people in the country who know what am I about to
tell you and five of them are on this plane. If you mention any of
this to anyone after the completion of this mission, you'll spend
the next seventy-five years in jail. Do you understand me,
Professor?'
'Good. The justification for the construction of the Supernova is
twofold. The first reason is this. About eighteen months ago, it
was discovered that state-funded scientists in Germany had begun
the secret construction of a Supernova.
Our response was simple: if they were going to build one, so were
we.'
'That's great logic,' Race said.
'It's exactly the same logic Oppenheimer used to justify building
the atomic bomb.'
'Geez, you're standing on the backs of giants there, Colonel,' Race
said drily. 'And the second reason?'
Nash said, 'Professor, have you ever heard of a man
named Dietrich von Choltitz?'
'No.”
'Commanding-General Dietrich von Choltitz was the Nazi
general in charge of the German forces in Paris at the time of the
Nazis' withdrawal from France in August of 1944. After it became
apparent that the Allies were going to retake Paris, Hitler sent
Choltitz a communique. It ordered Choltitz to set thousands of
incendiary devices all over the city before he left … and then,
after he was gone, to blow Paris sky-high.
'Now, to von Choltitz's credit, he disobeyed the order. He
didn't want to go down in history as the man who destroyed Paris.
But what is important here is the logic behind Hitler's order. If
he couldn't have Paris, no-one could.'
'So what are you saying?' Race said warily.
'Professor, the Supernova is but one evolutionary step in a
high-level strategic plan that has existed in U.S. foreign
policy
for the last fifty years. That plan is called the Choltitz
Plan.'
'that do you mean?'
'What I mean is this. Did you know that throughout the
Cold War, the U.S. Navy had standing orders to ensure that at any
given time there were a number of nuclear ballistic missile
submarines stationed at certain strategic locations around the
world. Do you know what those submarines
were there for?'
'What?'
'The orders those subs had were very simple. Should the Soviet
Union in any way defeat the United States in any sud den or
unforeseen engagement, those boomers had orders to launch a rain of
nuclear missiles not just on Soviet targets,
but on every major city on the European and U.S. mainlands.'
'What!'
'The Choltitz Plan, Professor Race. If we can't have it, no- one
can.'
'But this is on a global scale…' Race said in disbelief.
'That's right. That's exactly right. And therein lies the reason
for the creation of the Supernova. The United States is the most
dominant nation on this earth. Should any nation seek to alter that
situation, we will inform them of our possession of a workable
Supernova. If they take further steps and a conflict ensues and the
United States is beaten—
or worse, crippled—then we will detonate the device.'
Race felt a knot tighten in his stomach.
Was this for real? Was this policy? If America could not control
the world, it would destroy it?
'How can you build something like that?'
'Professor Race, what if China decided to wage war against the
United States? What if they won? Would you have the American people
under the rule of a Chinese regime?'
'But you'd rather die?'
'Yes.'
'And take the rest of the world with you,' Race said. 'You guys
must be the sorest losers of all time.'
'Be that as it may' Nash said, changing his tone, 'the law of
unintended consequences has taken its effect on this
situation.
News of the creation of a device with the potential to destroy the
planet has brought other parties out of the woodwork,
parties who would see such a weapon as a powerful bargaining chip
in their own crusades.'
'What kind of parties?'
'Certain terrorist groups. People who if they got their
hands on a workable Supernova would hold the world to
ransom.'
'Right,' Race said, 'and now your Supernova's been
stolen, probably by terrorists.'
'That's correct.'
'You opened Pandora's box, didn't you, Doctor Nash.'
'Yes. Yes, I'm afraid we did. And that's why it is imperative that
we get hold of that idol before anyone else does.'
With that, Nash and Copeland left Race alone with the manuscript
once again.
Race took a moment to gather his thoughts. His mind was swirling.
Supernovas. Global destruction. Terrorist groups. He found it
difficult to concentrate.
He shook it all away, forced himself to focus, found his place in
the manuscript again—the part where Renco and Alberto Santiago had
just blasted their way out of the besieged city of Cuzco.
Then Race took a deep breath, adjusted his glasses and entered the
world of the Incas once again.
2
0
We raced through the night, Renco, Bassario and myself, spurring
our horses on, making them gallop faster than they had ever done so
before. For behind us, close behind us, were the Spaniards—Hernando
and his legion of mounted troops, galloping across the countryside,
hunting us like dogs.
After departing through the northern gates of the Cuzco valley we
veered right, heading to the north-east. We came to the Urubamba
River—the same river that had held Renco's prison hulk—and crossed
it not far from the town of Pisac.
And thus began our journey, our desperate escape through the
wilderness.
I will not trouble you, dear reader, with every trifling incident
of our arduous journey, for it went for many days and the incidents
that took place during it were far too numerous. Rather, I shall
mention only those occurrences which are pertinent to my grander
tale.
We were headed for a village named Vilcafor—so Renco informed me—of
which his uncle was the chieftain. This vil lage was to be found in
the foothills of the great mountains far to the north, at the point
where those mountains met the great rainforest to the east.
Apparently, Vilcafor was a secret citadel townwheavily fortified
and well defendedwthat was maintained by the Incan nobility for use
in times of crisis. Its location was a care fully guarded secret,
and it could be found only by following
a series of stone totems placed at certain intervals in the rain-
forest, and then only when one knew the code to find the totems.
But to get to the rainforest, first we had to traverse the
mountains.
And so we entered the mountains—the stupendous rocky monoliths that
dominate New Spain. It cannot be overstated just how magnificent
the mountains of this country are.
Their steep rocky bluffs and high pointed summits-capped with snow
all year round—-can be seen for hundreds of miles, even from the
dense rainforests of the lowlands.
After a few days of travel, we discarded our horses, prefer ring to
navigate the delicate mountain trails on foot. Carefully, we walked
along slippery narrow paths cut into the sides of steep mountain
gorges. Gingerly, we crossed long sagging rope bridges suspended
high above raging mountain rivers.
And all the while, echoing through the maze of narrow gorges behind
us, were the shouts and marching footsteps of the Spaniards.
We came to several Incan villages, situated in the navels
of the splendid nountain valleys. Each village was named after its
chieftain—Rumac, Sipo and Huanco.
At these villages we were supplied with food, guides and llamas.
The generosity of these people was incredible. It was as if every
single villager knew of Renco and his mission and they could not
have moved faster to help us. When we had time, Renco would show
them the black stone idol and
they would all bow before it and fall silent.
But we rarely had such time.
The Spaniards pursued us doggedly.
On one occasion, as we left the town of Ocuyu—a village situated at
the base of a wide mountain valley—no sooner had we surmounted the
crest of the nearest hill than I heard the reports of heavy musket
fire from behind us. I turned to gaze back down the valley.
What I saw filled me with horror.
I saw Hernando and his troops—a whole gigantic column
of at least one hundred men—marching on foot at the far end
of the valley. Mounted troops flanked the enormous body of
foot soldiers, riding ahead of them into the town that we had only
just left, firing their muskets at the unarmed Incans.
Later, Hemando would divide his hundred-man legion into three
thirty-man divisions. Then he staggered their marching times, so
that while one division marched, the other two rested. The rested
divisions would then march later, overtaking the first group in
their turn, and the cycle would continue. The result was a
constantly moving mass of men, a mass that was always moving
forward, always closing in on us.
And all this while Renco, Bassario and myself stumbled ever
forward, struggling through the rocky wilderness, fighting fatigue
every moment of the way.
Of one thing I was certain: the Spaniards would catch us.
The only question was when.
Yet still we toiled on.
Now at one point on our journey—and I must say, at a time when my
countrymen were so close behind us that we could hear their voices
echoing off the canyons to our rear— we stopped at a village named
Colco, which is situated on the banks of a mountain river known as
the Paucartambo.
It was in this town that I obtained a clue as to why Renco had
brought the criminal Bassario along on our journey.
For in the village of Colco there is a quarry. Now, as I have said
before, these Indians are masterful stonemasons.
All of their buiIdings are constructed of the most finely cut
stones, some of which can be as tall as six men and weigh more than
a hundred tons. Such stones are harvested in the massive quarries
of towns like Colco.