John Schettler - Touchstone

LeGrand hesitated for the barest instant, then blurted out his response, desperate to persuade. “You must find the touchstone! That’s the key. The professor had it by the earlobe all along. It was Mister Kelly’s idea—the RAM bank, the touchstone database. If you are going to change the history, how will you preserve a record of the way things were? That’s why you sent out your Golems—to keep watch, find variations in the data and warn you of a crisis like this. Well it’s come, and what will you do about it? You’ve got to find their touchstone, that’s what. Find it and destroy it before we loose the whole.”

Kelly was the firstto speak, gesturing to the lab complex as he did so. “The Golems are not operating,” he said flatly. “We have no way of identifying a variation in the history without them.”

“Yes,” said LeGrand, “but you do have the original RAM bank still operating, and it has an imprint of the history as known to this point on the Meridian. That research will be essential… if our plan is to succeed.”

“Research?” Maeve leaned heavily on the table. “You mean to say you want us to find this thing, this touchstone, by using the data stored in our RAM bank as a guide? That could take years!”

LeGrand smiled wanly. “Possibly—just as the research on the Pushpoint that reversed Palma could have taken years as well. But we gave you a nudge in the right direction, didn’t we? I have come to aid your quest again. I can put you on the target, if you’ll hear me out. The rest will be up to you.”

Maeve pursed her lips, obviously struggling with the whole notion of using the Arch again to support this man’s plans. “How do we know you’re telling us the truth? How do we know you’re not just manipulating us into furthering your war plan?

“I was wondering if that would come up,” said LeGrand. “Fair question. As of this moment, you have only my word. If you’d care to test my assertions concerning the world outside the influence of this Nexus, be my guest. I would not advise it, however. Paradox is quite unforgiving.”

Paul intervened, seeing that the present line of argument would lead them nowhere. “You have information for us? You have a plan?”

“We hope as much.” Then LeGrand turned to Nordhausen. “We are really in your debt, professor. The moment we realized our adversaries were using a decidedly low tech solution, we immediately knew where it had to be hidden—give or take a few hundred years.”

Nordhausen squinted, thinking hard. “In the past,” he said. “It would have to placed as far back on the Meridian as possible.”

“Of course!” LeGrand smiled. “And what would you say is the oldest locus on the Meridian that would offer us promise?”

“There are hundreds of ancient sites that might qualify,” said Nordhausen, “but considering the Assassins were using hieroglyphics, let’s confine our search to Egypt.”

“Correct again!” LeGrand clapped his hands, obviously relieved to have the discussion moving in his direction, but still giving Maeve a cautious glance now and again.

“Well,” Robert scratched the back of his neck. “We could have a look at the Step Pyramids—they’re the oldest Pyramids known… About 2700 B.C.”

“We’ll have to do better than that,” said LeGrand. “Besides. The pyramids are too obvious. They stand out like a sore thumb in history, begging to be excavated. This touchstone, if indeed one exists, would have to be kept secret—hidden from the prying eyes of a thousand generations.”

“Then we would have to move to the Pre-Dynastic times. The oldest-known temple in Egypt is at Tell Ibrahim Awad in the eastern Nile Delta—at least as far as we know now. It was the dedicated to the God Thoth, who appeared in the benevolent figure of a baboon.” His eyes flashed as another thought occurred to him. “Thoth was also the Egyptian god of writing!”

“Interesting,” said LeGrand. “How old?”

“About 3400 B.C.—Before its discovery, the oldest-known temple was at Hierakonpolis, which dated to 3200 B.C.”

“A good candidate. We looked at it. There was nothing there.”

“See here,” Nordhausen gave him a frustrated look. “Why make this a game of twenty questions? If you have information on the location of the stone, then speak up, man!”

“I was told to sound you out and discover your thinking on this matter before divulging our best guess. But, as time is pressing, I will tell you that we believe the touchstone lies at the base of the Sphinx.”

“At Giza?” Nordhausen gave him an incredulous look. “That was thought to be built by Khafre, around 2600 B.C. There’s a stela erected between the legs of the beast that bears his name.”

“It was placed there by Tuthmosis IV in 1400 B.C., long after the monument was built. We believe the Sphinx is far older than Khafre’s pyramid at Giza, and that he had nothing whatsoever to do with its making. Oh, you will find similar rumors in your RAM bank data if you look. The work of Dr. Robert Schoch, John West, and the noted archeologist Michael Poe all assert the Sphinx may date well into the Paleolithic.”

“That’s nonsense,” said Nordhausen. “None of that research has been proven. It’s mere speculation. Besides, the use of hieroglyphics was developed in the Old Kingdom, much later. Even if there were a hidden chamber beneath the Sphinx, as many have suggested, why would they hide their touchstone there? You said yourself that the pyramids were too obvious a target. The Sphinx is even more prominent, more compelling.”

“Good arguments,” said LeGrand. “Our research people made them as well. But a lot happens between your time and ours. We have a great deal more information to bring to the quest. Let me be brief and say that we believe there is a hidden chamber beneath the Sphinx—or at least the place where it once rested.”

That last remark took the professor off his kilter. “What’s that? Are you saying the Sphinx was destroyed in the years ahead?”

“Yes, it was destroyed, but not in the years to come.”

Now Robert was beside himself. “That’s ridiculous. Certainly it was damaged. Why, the French soldiers used it to calibrate their artillery fires during their expedition to Egypt. It’s a pity I didn’t get a chance to see them try that little stunt. I would have knocked them senseless! Speak plainly—was the monument destroyed or not?”

“It was destroyed thousands of years ago, when the Nile floods were so severe one year that they changed the course of the river itself.”

“Don’t be daft, man. The Sphinx exists in our time! What are you talking about?”

“Well, it should be obvious that I’m not talking about the Sphinx at Giza.”

Maeve had been listening silently, inwardly amused as the two men jousted over the history. Now she spoke up, determined to move the discussion to some conclusion.

“They come in pairs , Robert. Have you ever seen the image of a Sphinx carved without another in tandem?”

Nordhausen turned to her, more to see if she was serious by checking the expression on her face than anything else. He could quickly see that her remark was not made in jest.

“Exactly!” LeGrand was quick to reinforce this new track. “They come in pairs. Well said. To put it plainly—we found the mate to the Sphinx you know today. It was located on the eastern bank of the Nile, directly opposite the existing monument. Together they served as the guardians of the lower Nile—a kind of gateway, if you will. It was destroyed when the Nile flooded and changed its course. The remains of the monument were carried off by the locals after that, to use in other construction projects. Nothing remains at the site—at least where we believe the second Sphinx once rested. In fact, the city of Cairo has completely covered the area.”