David Sakmyster - The Cydonia Objective

“Save your energy. Your brothers will just RV the keys, and there’s no place you can hide them where they won’t be seen.”

Alexander sighed. He set the flashlight down, pointing straight up and casting freakish shadows around the crushed alcoves, revealing the shattered scroll casings, the shredded documents and tablets. He forced his attention back to the computer screen, where there were six icons, and an open file.

“But you can still help.”

“How?”

“Rashi was on to something. She wouldn’t tell me everything, but I knew… The Keepers found clues in the ancient documents. Something that could help. Hideki was working on it too, scanning portions into the computer. There should be a file, or a series of files, excerpts translated from the original sources.”

Alexander called up the first open file, scrolled down past the scanned cuneiform script and glanced at the translation. “I see it. This first one has something about…”

“Just read it,” Caleb called. “And remember what you can. Read everything she saved out there—then, before they come for you, delete it all. And smash the computer.”

Alexander smiled. “That’ll be fun.”

“Remember it, and you’ll get a chance to tell me—or Phoebe, soon. And hopefully it’ll be enough to stop this.”

“What about you?” Alexander shined the light back to the wall of debris over the smashed conference table, waving the beam back and forth, looking for even a slight crack to look through and see him. But no, if that was possible, he could fit the keystones through and Caleb could try to protect them.

“There’s a hidden exit back this way. Robert showed it to me once, after I said I was concerned about escape if the surface was compromised. A descending passageway that turns at a right angle and tunnels to the harbor. A huge bank-safe kind of door, opened only from the inside, one that then leads down to the harbor. Of course, there’s scuba gear…”

“Oh.” Alexander thought of how his dad didn’t have the best experiences with scuba, and nearly died in that harbor while searching for the Pharos. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, it’s got to be done. I’ll get out, and get help. I’ll find a way to save you. But you… Alexander, listen to me. You have to be strong. You’re a Keeper now.”

“But…” Alexander looked around at the shattered walls, the broken alcoves. “All the scrolls…”

“We’ll save what we can,” Caleb said solemnly. “But remember, all of it—the whole collection—was scanned and uploaded to remote servers.”

Alexander had asked his mother about those servers one day, while they were at a café outside the library. He still recalled the glint in her green eyes as she leaned in and whispered: “A lot of places. A cave system in the Himalayas. Another in the Andes. A bunker in Mount Shasta, Washington.”

“It’s all still there,” his father’s voice now. “If only in a different form. The scrolls wouldn’t have lasted forever anyway.”

Alexander knew he was right, but still—the original copies. So priceless. To have averted the doom Sostratus originally foresaw for them, only to be destroyed only a few years after rediscovery…

“I’ve got to go now, they’re coming soon. Remember…”

“Yes, I know. I’m a Keeper now. I’ll do what has to be done.” A little hesitation. “I’ll see you soon?”

“That’s a promise. I’m proud of you, Alexander. Goodbye.”

Alexander stood and raised his head, shining the light into the crevices and nooks, surveying what was left of his domain, the vault that had been built to survive for millennia. He allowed himself a moment to grieve for all this, for Rashi and Hideki. And for his mother.

And then he sat down and got to work.

Xavier Montross waited alone in the limousine and didn’t bother trying the doors. He knew they’d be locked. In the back trunk rested an iron box more than five thousand years old that potentially held the greatest of secrets. And somewhere down there in that monstrous fissure, were the only keys that could open the box.

The keys and my nephew, he thought, imagining the boy’s terror, his sudden thrust into responsibility. We’re not so different. I was even a little younger when it happened to me.

Out the tinted windows he could see the crowd of fire engines, ambulances, vans and relief workers. Three helicopters overhead. People surging around the perimeter, spectators pushed back by armed police, keeping everyone at a distance from ground zero.

Xavier closed his eyes and for a moment, pictured his childhood room as it was for years, up until the accident that killed his mother and his foster father: the bedroom walls covered with drawings, visions that made the transition from mind to paper. He recalled one in particular: a deep hole bored into the earth, with tiny forms clinging to the sides, smoke rising from below.

He had seen this all before. Didn’t know what it was at the time, but now there was no mistaking it.

Just like there was no mistaking what he’d have to do next. He knew it was coming. Dreaded it, but at the same time found himself intensely curious. But first he allowed himself a moment.

A moment to think. About her.

A soaring flight over sandstone towers, deep ravines and striated cliff walls. Her breath on his neck, her arms fiercely encircling his chest. The intensity of adventure, the thrill of discovery…

And then he was back, and her scent left his lungs with the next breath, replaced by the stinging heat and flavor of death.

Mason Calderon slid into the seat facing Xavier, then shut the door. He had on a lavender silk shirt, sleeves rolled up, his white tie slightly loosened around his collar. A slight cough was his only indication of experiencing anything personally from the destruction outside. He brushed off his pant legs, then combed his fingers through his wavy gray hair.

“So, Xavier. We finally get to chat.” Calderon held a thin leather briefcase on his lap, tapping it gently.

Xavier’s head felt lighter suddenly, and the car seemed to spin. “The Tablet.”

Calderon smiled, his palms now flat against the leather case. “I know you can feel it too.” His eyes were large, Xavier thought, the pupils expanded like a focused cat’s. They blinked, then glanced out the window. His smile never wavered as he shook his head. “Such loss. But still, it was a valuable test. And a warning.”

“A warning to whom?”

Calderon’s gaze swept back to Xavier. “Don’t you know?”

“I know a lot of things. Maybe you should be more specific.” If this was how it was going to be, Xavier was going to have to figure a way to just get in position to kick the senator in the face and shut him up. He knew the next minutes were going to be crucial. Everything he believed in was going to be put to the test. Something was coming, some revelation he hadn’t accounted for. This was the grand meeting between dramatic adversaries, and Xavier, believing himself now thrust completely into the hero’s role, wasn’t going to be fooled.

But then again, maybe he needed a radical change in direction, because so far nothing had been altered. All his visions were still of the same thing: complete final destruction. His death, and everyone’s death at the hands of this man sitting before him so calmly.

Calderon leaned in slightly. “Do you know why the Nazis sent elite missions out to remote corners of the earth? Tibet, the North Pole, Antarctica?”

Xavier stared at him.

“These were hardly positions of strategic importance to the war,” Calderon continued. “And Himmler and other select SS members continued to expend vast resources seeking out areas where there were caves and tunnels penetrating deep into the earth. What were they looking for?”