David Sakmyster - The Cydonia Objective

“Time we don’t have,” Rashi agreed.

Caleb leaned back, studying the other members, then looking past them to the scrolls laid out on the work area. To the banks of servers storing all the scanned documents.

The other two Keepers were looking solemn, palms flat on the table. Caleb had taken a seat next to Alexander. He leaned forward. “Tell me what you’ve found. About the Tablet, about… the Spear.”

Rashi closed her eyes, and began to talk. “The first thing we found wasn’t from the Library, it was something much more recent. We looked into Robert Gregory’s files, decrypting his locked folders and accessing what he’d been studying in secret.”

“So basically,” Hideki said, “he had already done the research.”

“Knew what he was looking for,” Caleb said.

“But some of it wasn’t even from what you found under the Pharos. He had access to other books, private collections, heretical texts acquired from individuals with powerful connections, to say the least.”

Alexander was listening to all of this, confused. He kept focusing on the Zodiac images painted above, on the azure-background of the dome, imagining the animals taking form, moving around. He thought of the shapes in Genghis Khan’s tomb, thought of how much he had seen in the past few weeks. How much death, but in the midst of all that life. His eyes settled on the constellation of Gemini, the twins. And he realized couldn’t stop thinking about them, his new brothers. Where were they now?

“…revelations that seemed far too fanciful for us at first,” Hideki continued.

“But,” said Rashi, “now we’ve been reconsidering. In light of other insights. Now that the majority of the Pharos’ documents have been scanned and uploaded, and everything that could be translated has been, we have been able to search for keywords and phrases.”

“‘ Tablet of Destiny’ being one,” Hideki said.

Caleb’s lips felt parched. His stomach grumbled. And he thought of Alexander and how neither of them had eaten in more than a day. He looked toward the door set back in a side room off the main domed chamber where they kept supplies, enough food and water for months. Beds, a shower. He thought about getting up and telling Rashi and Hideki to wait until he got a snack, but that was when he felt something.

A rumbling.

The table rattled. The microscope in the other room shook, toppled. The lights overhead dimmed.

Caleb blinked, and across his eyelids flashed an image, a vision in stark clarity:

A snowy field beset by enormous mountains ringed by an emerald aurora. Almost two hundred radar arrays, glowing, sparking with errant electrical discharge. And zooming in closer… through the walls of the main facility, lightning-quick through hallways and down elevator shafts to a control room… and a man in uniform holding a phone to his ear, saying: “Yes, Senator. It’s been done…”

The very chamber shook now, dust fell from the dome, and the barest hint of a crack split through the constellations, ripping apart Pisces and splitting the Twins.

Rashi stood up, eyes wide. “No… They can’t… They wouldn’t dare!”

Hideki screamed and pointed to Alexander, who when he stood, leaned forward so the necklace with the three charms slipped out.

“The Keys!” she shouted. “They’re after the Keys!”

Caleb got up, reaching for his son—but suddenly the room pitched and buckled and the table rocked into his side and thrust him backwards while Alexander stood there, helplessly.

“Dad!”

Caleb climbed over the table, and was about to leap and swoop him up when a huge section of the ceiling collapsed, masonry crashed between them, and everything turned black.

He stayed on his knees, arms outstretched toward the mass of debris: layers of twisted concrete, metal and girders. And all he could think of was: this can’t be happening!

Robert and Lydia and all the Keepers had given their assurances that this library was built to withstand the ages, time and especially, earthquakes. Not only were the upper levels built upon shifting, standalone foundations that should have been impervious to ground fault tectonic shifts, but this sublevel especially was reinforced. A veritable bunker. Even if the unthinkable were to happen up above, the most treasured documents should have been safe down here.

Safe…

The rumbling subsided, the vibrations died down. But now what replaced it was infinitely worse:

Silence.

It was as all-pervasive. One set of flickering lights above remained, highlighting the cracked forms of the lower half of the Zodiac.

“Alexander?”

He held his breath, listening for anything. Studying the wall of debris, trying not to think the worst. Keeping it out of his mind, just as he kept away the horrors of what must be happening on the surface, up in Alexandria. What kind of devastation…?

A glimpse, a curse rewarding his lack of willpower: A birds-eye view from two hundred feet up… The slanting glass roof destroyed, just a jagged semi-circular foundation left in the earth. Great chunks of glass and twisted metal girders strewn about an area that looked like a meteor had struck a direct hit. Centered perfectly on the library.

Not possible, Caleb thought. Pausing now in his search. Going with the vision, the power that wanted, needed him to see.

Show me, he whispered, and mentally stepped back a few moments…

The domed library, scintillating in the sun, through the transparent windows hundreds of patrons could be seen strolling the aisles, reading at tables, looking at exhibits, while outside tourists took in the gardens, the fountains, or marveled at the planetarium.

Then, without warning, without even a flash of light, nothing but a faint ripple in the air, as if an invisible wave had just disrupted the fabric of the atmosphere—the dome imploded, shelves and floor were slammed down and met the exploding ground levels. Chunks of metal, concrete and earth rending and splitting, thrusting up and out and slamming down again, pulverized into Alexandria’s foundation.

The force of a meteor, just like—

He’d seen this before. Something Orlando had shown him…

Caleb shook his head, gagging on the visualization of the complete destruction of such a grand monument, not to mention the instant death of all those people. And only minutes after his arrival!

There could be no natural event. Just like he now believed Tunguska, Siberia was anything but natural. That place by the snowy mountains… Calderon…

He hung his head, fighting the tears, the guilt threatening to rend his heart of its last remaining strength. Willing it all away. He had to get to Alexander.

As much as it might be the final nail in his heart, he had to see…

But before he even looked, he knew what he’d find. Alexander was okay. He just had to be.

If Calderon did this, he would only have gone so far if he knew of the vault down here. Knew they’d be here. Calderon gave them enough time to get settled in, then he brought the world down upon them, sealing them in.

Keeping Caleb and Alexander—and the other Keepers—from the worst of the destruction.

But Alexander had the keys.

That was the one thought that kept Caleb going.

If Calderon still wanted that translation, he needed the keys. Sure he could mount an excavation in the guise of a rescue, and dig up the lower vault to find the keys, but that could take months, especially given the level of response and world attention that would be starting even now.

No, something told Caleb that Calderon knew that there would be an easier way.