David Sakmyster - The Cydonia Objective

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?”

She backs up in the chair, moves her head back and forth, her eyes closed, as if seeking a scent. Then she shakes her head and returns to the screen. “Sometimes I get these feelings… Like you’re looking in on me from another time and place. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.”

She sighs, opens her eyes and looks intently around the room. Up at the ceiling, around the silent and deep alcoves. “If it is you,” she whispers, “just know that I did this for you, and for Alexander. I’m hiding what we’ve found, because if you discovered it you’d mobilize your little group and go out hunting these… people. I know you would. And you’re not ready, oh god Caleb… what I’ve learned…”

Her shoulders tremble. “Don’t… just don’t go after them. Don’t even look for them. Because they’ll know. Please, for Alexander’s sake. For all our sakes. If you somehow find this, just leave them alone. If you can. Unless… it’s unavoidable.”

She moves the mouse to close out the file she’s been working on—and just before it disappears, the name is visible:

“Custodians.” Alexander opened his eyes and in the darkness he fumbled for the flashlight switch, found it and in the burning brilliance, he returned to the computer.

“Okay,” he said, over the increasing volume of the drills coming closer. “Let’s find where mom’s hidden you, and what all the fuss is about.”

Mount Shasta, Washington State

They landed at the small airport outside of McCloud, near the base of the majestic, snow-capped Mount Shasta, then assembled into two jeeps that proceeded through the picturesque town at speeds Phoebe thought bordered on criminal, not to mention obviously attention-grabbing, at a time when she expected they’d want to keep a low profile. The lovely town instantly tugged at her heart, and she squeezed Orlando’s hand. He was smiling at the scenery, the quaint shops, restaurants and inns at this resort town, reminiscent of the old gold rush period, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing: that when this was all over, maybe they could get away and come out here for a romantic vacation.

Aria sat in the back with her father, who seemed to be recovering nicely, but was still in and out of consciousness. She watched with wide eyes, taking in the lush forests of pine, the variety in the colors of the leaves, the grass and brush. But always her attention was drawn to the great mountain, the ice and snow covering most of its surface up to the dazzling white peak. Phoebe could only imagine what the girl was experiencing, having lived her whole life in the dry desert.

With the town behind them, the road narrowed and they traveled for a while in silence, with Colonel Temple at the wheel, his mirrored sunglasses covering any sign of emotion. A few more minutes and they turned onto a bumpier trail where the alpine woods closed in and scraped against their windows as they moved into Shasta’s shadow. Soon, NO TRESSPASSING signs began to appear, and their ears popped as they began to climb.

But it wasn’t much longer before they stopped, coming to a high metal fence manned by two camouflaged men with heavy rifles. A nod from Temple, who showed them a pass, and they were through.

A rectangular two-story windowless building stood under a canopy of trees against the base of a steep rocky incline. A half-dozen satellite dishes of various sizes pointed through one clear section to the blue sky.

“That’s it?” Orlando asked, stepping out of the jeep and stretching.

Temple chuckled. “Give us a little credit. We may not have unlimited funds, but we’ve got enough for a little luxury. This is just one of our redundant communication sites.” He was smiling as he reached into his suit coat pocket and pulled out a small transmitter. He pointed it at a flat wall of the mountainside, and moments later a doorway appeared. Two sides split open and parted, revealing a tunnel, and a globe-shaped silver car on a set of tracks.

Temple removed his sunglasses And said, in a business-like tone, “Welcome to Stargate.”

After the doorsclosed and they were all situated around the surprisingly roomy interior, the tram moved them along at a more-than-leisurely pace that made Orlando compare it to the New York subway system. Except the view out the convex windows was less interesting: just occasional dull lamps revealing little beyond what one would expect inside a tunnel burrowed into a mountain.

“Alexander would love this,” he said to Phoebe. “Reminds me of the villain’s secret lair inside that volcano in The Incredibles .”

Temple heard him and smiled. “Not the vibe we were going for, but secrecy is vital. And anyway…”