The Cydonia Objective (Morpheus Initiative 03) (24 page)

The earth trembles. Wobbles unsteadily. In breaks of the clouds, the land masses seem to be shifting. Major sections tearing free. Waters spilling over entire countries. The globe shifts the wrong way. The poles reverse. Flipping, as if something has completely unsettled the core, scrambled it and shut off the dynamo at the center of Earth's molten center, then jump-started it again.

The vision draws sideways so that the Earth is out of the frame, and its companion pulls near. The Moon. Silvery, lustrous, complacent. So bright…

...on one side. But we're nearing, soaring around, towards the darkness. Towards…

#

The vision ended
in a searing ball of light. Intense white that turned to yellow, then dimmed… and dimmed. She couldn't get her bearings, but Nina felt as if she were weightless. Still in space. Still…

Then it dawned on her. She couldn't see, not yet. Not with the glare of the sun still tearing at her eyes, but she knew all the same. She was in the water. In the damn harbor. With… a vest on?  And—a regulator stuffed into her mouth. She was breathing the tasteless but pure air from a scuba tank.

That meant…

Shit!

She tried to spin around, awkwardly lashing out with her hands. Where was he?  How did she get out here?

But then she realized it.

He had been ready for her. He knew she'd try to pry the truth from his mind, and he was ready.

But with what?

What the hell was that?

She floated, and her vision gradually returned along with the sound of a motor, a familiar motor, departing swiftly.

Damn Caleb.

#

Lucky, he thought,
steering the boat the last few yards, coasting into the dock, where two youths waited with ropes to reel and tether him in.
I got lucky
. Nina had her guard down, and never considered that Caleb could show her anything that would literally send her reeling.

Let her stew on that,
he thought as he disembarked and gave the boat-hands a tip out of the purse Nina had left behind. He took that with him, wrapped in a towel that he tucked under his arm.

Happily, she had also left her cell phone on the seat. He quickly made his way into the shadow of Qaitbey's Fortress and took it out, preparing to dial Phoebe. But first he glanced out into the harbor, where far out there he thought he could make out Nina, starting to swim for the rocky shore. He knew it was probably a mistake to let her live. But he wasn't a killer. He could no more strap weights to her chest and dump her, unconscious, into the harbor, than he could strangle a sleeping cat. Not to mention the newfound connection they shared. But while he couldn't kill her, only incapacitate her for a time, neither did he believe they could work together.

Hopefully what he had shown her would cause her to second-guess what she had been told. Or at least, to start to question whose side she was really on. But he wouldn't count on it.

He had work to do.

On the second ring, Phoebe picked up and once she heard his voice, relief flooded hers. "Big brother! Glad my vision wasn't wrong, and you're still alive. How's Alexander?"

"Safe, for now. But listen, we need to move fast. And I don't want them tracking this call. I need your help. Can you get me out of here?  Where are you, I tried looking, but only–"

 "Saw something blue?"  Phoebe's voice was giddy, like she had just opened a favorite present. "We got ourselves one of those shields!"

"A what?  And who's we?"

"You won't believe me. Orlando and I, we're on a plane, nearing…"

Caleb heard an unfamiliar voice yell out and cut her off: "Don't say where we're going!"

"Oh right," said Phoebe. "Kind of defeats the purpose of a shield. Anyway, we're with some others with similar
interests.
Been recruited, you might say. We'll find a way to get you here discreetly."

"Phoebe, listen. That can wait. If you've got access to discreet transportation—and I can only cringe and guess why—then have your new friends have a jet waiting for me at the Alexandrian airstrip. I need to go to New York City. I'll explain later."

"Oh, I bet it's something to do with the statue!"

Caleb held out his hand for a cab, as soon as he reached the end of the promontory and back toward the street.

"You wouldn't believe what we've seen," Phoebe continued. "And we're about to learn a lot more, I'm guessing, but already it's
out of this world
stuff." 

Caleb caught her emphasis, and immediately thought of the artwork down under the pyramids, the strange remnant technology, and his and Xavier's visions.

"Okay, just tell me you can get the plane."

"I think so. Go, and we'll have it ready. Just for you?"

"Yeah, Xavier's let himself get captured."

"What?  Why?"

"Said it was to buy us our escape, but I know he's got something else in mind. He needs to get into Calderon's camp, probably has to do with something he's seen. But all that's out of my hands. I need to get the one thing I know can help us."

"All right, big brother. Get to the airport, do your thing. We'll see you when we see you. In the meantime…"

"You're in charge of the Morpheus Initiative, Phoebe. I trust you. And if you trust these new friends, then you have my confidence to bring them in on what we know. Pool your resources. If I fail…"

"Yeah, yeah. If you fail, it's up to me.
Again."

Caleb hung up, then dropped the phone on the street as he entered the cab. As soon as they realized Nina was gone, they'd be looking for him. And with the twins' ability to find him, he didn't want to make it any easier by letting them track her phone. He told the driver where to go, then settled back, hoping to close his eyes, rest and let his visions seek out some possible solutions.

5.

Alexander tried hard to focus, to do everything his father had told him. To just think about the computer and his responsibility, but it was difficult. So hard to concentrate down here in the dark. With the priceless books and scrolls and tablets, most of them ruined. With the darkness and the shadows.

With the dead.

He couldn't keep his mind on the task of sorting through the computer files. Clicking on folder after folder, trying to find something useful without even knowing what he was looking for. Worse than a needle in a haystack, because half the time these files just opened scanned photos of the original texts, which then had notes written in Greek or Coptic—languages Alexander was still not proficient with to say the least.

He was beginning to panic. The air felt thinner after every minute. The shadows deeper. The flashlight light a little fainter. Finally he turned it off and just focused on the computer screen, and tried to imagine he was home in his room in the dark. Nothing else but his familiar bed and books around him in the dark. Just those, and his computer.

And it worked, and he relaxed and started to make some progress.

-Until he heard the rumbling from above.

Oh no.
He trembled and his mouth went completely dry.
The drill.

He was going to have to kick this into gear.
Come on, you're a Keeper now.
He had to find the answer, finish his mission. For his father. For the Morpheus Initiative, for the memory of all the Keepers lost today. He couldn't let them down. But he needed to improvise. The computer search route wasn't working. It was time for another tactic. One that had to work, and fast.

They're coming.

#

He shut the
laptop's cover and sat in darkness with his eyes closed. Ignoring the rumbling from above, ignoring the dust filtering through the gaps in the ceiling and coating his head like falling snow, he focused on the target. It was a vague objective, but hopefully something his subconscious could latch onto if it went fishing around in a murky pond with a hook the size of a bazooka.

Think!  Rashi had found something in the recovered library. Something big, something she shared with the others. All of them except Dad.

Think!

And suddenly, a nibble. Something jerked in his mind, a vibration rattling his mind. And then he saw–

Lydia. His mother, hunched over the central table, looking through a large magnifying lens at an intact rectangular stone slab with odd writing all over it. Keepers Rashi and Hideki standing behind her, anticipating her reaction.

"This is it," Lydia whispers. "The Rongo-Rongo script. Its first translation into Sumerian. This is…"  Her face pulls back from the glass, and her eyes are beaming, her expression numinous. "This is everything."

"Yes," Rashi says, "we now have a cipher we can use to decipher the writings at Harrapan and Mohenjo-Daro."

"And these others," Hideki adds, motioning toward a table full of rough-edged tablets, some looking incredibly ancient.

Lydia's smile matches theirs. "Robert will be so pleased!"

Rashi nods. "He's been searching for this translation for years."

"He hoped it would be in the collection," Lydia says. "You know Robert, he believes in all that pre-historical civilization stuff, that some great race was wiped out or went into hiding before our current recorded history, and that maybe this script was their only legacy."

"If we could only translate it," Rashi muses with a smile. "Which is now possible. So, are you going to tell Caleb?"

Lydia glances to the pile of waiting tablets. "Not yet. Let's see what we learn. He's not coming back for another four months. Let's see what we can translate first. And if there's anything he needs to know, we'll decide at that point. For all we know, this will just be gibberish, or maybe a list of holidays and crop yields or something."

"You don't believe that," Hideki says. "If that were the case, these pieces wouldn't have been safeguarded in the most secret vault on the planet."

Lydia sighs. "True. But still, let's be extra careful about what we translate. This could be the biggest revelation yet, in all these texts. Explosive knowledge that could have damning results for the whole planet."

A bitter blackness suddenly replaced everything, leaving Alexander in a near whimper, longing to stay by his mother's side. At once he crumpled over, nearing tears, reaching with his mind to get back there. To see her again, to see–

- her typing furiously at the computer. Alone in the chamber. The packed alcoves surrounding her on the rounded walls, all those priceless scrolls and texts crafted by ancient hands while her own fingers deftly move across the keyboard. Her lips silently spell out the words as she translates from the latest tablet and types.

The view moves closer and Lydia pauses, trembling, glancing around.

"Caleb?"