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the last few days since the computer had been uncovered nothing had happened, but that had not allayed the fears of the Isolationists, as the media were calling them, but rather left them to stew in what was becoming a cauldron of paranoia. The United Nations had taken over the entire problem and there were demands from isolationist groups in many countries to pull out of the UN and not to support the UNAOC, the United Nations Alien Oversight Committee.
Screw them, Kelly decided. It was more than likely that the message had gone to no one, since the Airlia outpost on Earth had been abandoned over five millennia ago. For all anyone knew, the Airlia's home planet, wherever that was, might have been wiped out by the Kortad, who might have become extinct themselves, their knowledge of the Earth returning to the ether.
As vocal as the isolationists were, there was another movement just as keen to gain the new technology and information held by the guardian, and they were pressing UNAOC to go forward. Dubbed the progressives, they believed the alien machine held answers for the mult.i.tude of complex problems the human race faced.
There was even a very strong argument made by the progressives to fly the mothership, something that Reynolds and her comrades had raced against time to stop the Majestic-12 Committee in Area 51 from doing. At least by finding the guardian, they had discovered the reason the ma.s.sive mothership shouldn't be flown: the interstellar drive, once activated, could be detected by the Kortad and traced back to Earth, which, according to records they'd uncovered, would lead to 25.
Earth's destruction. That is, if the Kortad still existed, not a likely possibility in the opinion of the progressives.
Practically everyone on Earth had an opinion about what should be done with the alien artifacts, but the control of the guardian computer and all the technology the United States has had kept hidden over the years at Area 51 in the Nevada desert outside of Nellis Air Force Base had been ceded to the Alien Oversight Committee, since this issue clearly transcended national boundaries.
The bouncers, nine disk-shaped craft that operated inside of Earth's atmosphere, and the mothership had finally been opened to public scrutiny and international inspection after decades of secrecy.
Kelly typed on.
Ultimately it comes down to two key questions, one looking back and the other forward : 1. What is the truth of Earth's history now that we know an alien outpost was established on our planet ten thousand years ago and disappeared over five thousand years ago?
2. What is our future now that we have uncovered artifacts from those aliens, one of which has been activated and has sent a message, and what do we do with a large craft capable of interstellar flight?
Should humanity reach for the stars before its natural time, and if we do, who-or what-is waiting out there for us? Or has the deci- 26.
sion of first live contact been taken out of our hands by the message the guardian sent and are other interstellar craft like the mothership already racing through s.p.a.ce, coming toward us in reply? And who is piloting those ships if they are coming? Peace-loving Airlia or the Kortad bent on destruction?
Kelly Reynolds stopped typing as a shadow filled the doorway to the army-issue GP medium tent that had been set aside for the press. Since the guardian had ceased contact, there had been little to report in the last two days. Kelly had been surprised this morning, when she'd arrived at the airfield, at how quickly the number of media people on the island had dropped. Most of the media's focus was now on Area 51, recording the Air Force flying the bouncers and wandering through the ma.s.sive bulk of the mothership on guided tours of equipment Majestic-12 had jealously guarded for so many years.
Kelly smiled when she recognized the person entering. Peter Nabinger was the man who had made contact with the guardian and received from it the information about what had happened five thousand years ago. He was also the foremost translator of the Airlia high rune language, traces of which could be found at various ancient sites all over the globe, and had sent Kelly and her comrades on the right path to finding the guardian hidden under the volcano on Easter Island, arriving just before the Majestic-12 forces.
Nabinger was over six feet tall and heavyset. He 27.
had a thick black beard below his wire-rimmed gla.s.ses. When he spoke, his thick accent showed his origins and employer, the Brooklyn Museum, where he was the head of archaeology. Kelly enjoyed his company and his unique take on things.
It was amusing, Nabinger often said, that people had always thought that first "contact" with an alien race would be done by astronauts or radio astronomers, but few people had ever considered that the most likely evidence of alien life would come in the form of the archaeological discovery of alien artifacts left here on Earth. Nabinger had argued long and hard that it was much more likely that Earth had been visited sometime in its millions of years of history rather than right now in the present and that those visitors could have left some form of evidence of their visit. Of course, Majestic-12, flying the bouncers out at Area 51 for decades, had fueled the UFO hysteria that Earth was currently being visited by aliens and directed attention away from more likely sources of contact.
"Hey, Kelly," Nabinger greeted her with a hug. "When did you get back?"
"This morning. I feel like I've been in the air forever." Kelly herself was short, just topping five feet, but she was large; not fat, but big boned. She had thick gray hair that she kept tied to the rear with a bright ribbon. Her skin was red and peeling from exposure to the harsh South Pacific sun. "I heard about you getting booted by the guardian."
"The whole world's heard," Nabinger said, sitting down on a folding chair.
"Looks like you're going to have this tent all to yourself soon. We've suddenly become rather boring here."
28.
"The major networks and CNN will keep a stringer here indefinitely," Kelly said. "They don't want to get caught flatfooted if the guardian does come back on-line. But the smaller outlets can't afford putting out this much money for nothing. They've filed all the stories they could dredge up on this island and taken all the shots of the guardian. It costs a lot to keep someone out here doing nothing, and they can get their feed off those of us who are here. I'm syndicated now in over sixty papers."
That was a far cry, Kelly knew, from where she had been just two weeks ago, when she'd been struggling to sell articles to any paper or magazine that would pay. But being part of the group that had uncovered the secrets of Area 51 and the guardian here on Easter Island had certainly bolstered her career, a thought that brought back an image of Johnny Simmons's casket.
Nabinger caught the look on her face. "How did it go?"
"The funeral was a media circus. I don't think the real feelings have caught up with me yet. And I'm not sure I want them to right now. I have too much to do. I owe Johnny that. He wouldn't want me to sit around crying when I could be hitting sixty papers with this"-she pointed at her laptop.
Nabinger nodded. "I understand."
"So," Kelly said, taking a deep breath. She forced a smile. "So. Since I have an exclusive with the man himself, why don't you tell me what's going on?" "The guardian is still working," Nabinger said. "We know that because it's taking in power. It's just not talking to us."
29.
"Why not?"
"Probably because it figured out we're not Airlia," Nabinger answered. "They hid it here in the first place to keep us h.o.m.o sapiens from finding it."
Easter Island, known as Rapa Nui to the locals, was the most isolated island on the face of the planet. According to Nabinger's translations of the Airlia's high rune artifacts and interpretation of the information given him by the guardian, that was why Aspasia had chosen it to be the receptacle for the guardian computer. Underneath the lake in Rano Kau's crater, one of the two major volcanoes on the island, the Airlia had built a chamber and put their computer in place, leaving a small, self-sustaining cold fusion reactor to power it. Even the reactor's advanced workings were off-limits to the scientists, as the shielding guarding it was impenetrable. The dwindling power the reactor put out had recently been supplemented by numerous human generators flown in, and the guardian was at full power; but nothing was happening that could be detected.
"h.e.l.l," Nabinger said, "we don't even know if the guardian is a computer.
We're calling it that because it's the closest piece of equipment we have that is like it, but the guardian can do so much more.
"They've tried everything in the last two days, including hypnosis, to get me back in contact with the guardian. The UNAOC people are banging their heads down there, trying to get that thing to work," Nabinger said. "I'm about ready to tear my hair out." Nabinger shrugged. "Maybe I was just lucky. Maybe it was set to be activated by any- 30.
thing living, but only long enough to ascertain the situation. Once it figured out that we weren't Airlia, it cut us out."
"Not before having its foo fighters obliterate Majestic-12's biolab at Dulce and the rebel computer in there," Reynolds noted. In the course of their search for the truth, Kelly and those with her had broken into the secret government lab at Dulce, New Mexico, where another, smaller guardian-type computer had been placed by the government after being uncovered under a ma.s.sive earthen mound at Temiltepec in Central America.
They both looked up as a strong offsh.o.r.e breeze hit the tent and caused the canvas top to snap back and forth. The wind, the lack of trees, and the ocean completely surrounding them on all sides lent a disturbing air of isolation to the location.
Nabinger nodded at her comment. "Yeah, that's true. But there have been no foo fighter flights since then. We know the foo fighters are based under the ocean a couple of hundred miles to the north of here. I think the Navy is discreetly poking around out there, trying to pinpoint where exactly. You can be sure they're interested in that ray that was used to destroy Dulce."
"I haven't heard any of that," Reynolds said. "Does the Alien Oversight Committee know the U.S. Navy is doing that?"
"At first I thought the U.S. Navy was working for the Oversight Committee,"
Nabinger said, "but the UNAOC rep here says he doesn't know anything about it.
I've only heard rumors, but I think either someone in the U.S. government is 31.
poking around with UNAOC's knowledge and tacit approval, or something else fishy is going on and they're cutting UNAOC out."
That brought a momentary silence to the tent, allowing them both to hear the nearby crash of waves on the rocky coastline. Nabinger shifted uncomfortably.
"There's more going on than UNAOC is letting out to the media," he said. "The Oversight Committee is trying to track down any other artifacts from the Airlia that might have been left here. It appears Majestic-12 wasn't the only ones keeping secrets. There's some talk the Russians might have had a crashed Airlia craft all these years and that some countries and perhaps even some international corporations uncovered other things the Airlia left behind and have been working on them in secrecy."
"d.a.m.n, I thought we were past that secret stuff." Reynolds looked at him. "You haven't been taken over by the guardian, have you?" She had a grin on her face, but there was an undercurrent to her words.
"If I was, would I know it?" Nabinger said. "General Gullick and the others on Majestic thought they were acting for the good of the country. According to the MRI scans of my brain nothing seems amiss."
"You said there's word others have artifacts?" Kelly asked. "How come they're not coming forward now that everything's in the open?"
"They, whoever they are, lose control if they do that. Think of the economic potential if someone cracks the secret to some of the Airlia technology. UNAOC is trying, but it's not getting the greatest cooperation. I think the Navy is trying to uncover 32.
the foo fighter base because after what the fighters did to the lab at Dulce, anyone who controlled that power would be top dog on this planet. Also, the isolationists are pretty strong in some countries and they feel UNAOC leans too far toward the progressives."
Reynolds shook her head, but she knew that was the way people were, particularly people in power. "So what have you been doing when the oversight people haven't been trying to use you to turn on the guardian?"
Nabinger held up a file folder stuffed with pictures and computer printouts.
"I still have the high runes as a source of information. Getting access into the guardian would certainly be nice, but, remember, I'm an archaeologist." He paused, then looked at her. "I think everyone is too worried about the future and not enough about the past."
"That's because we're going to live the future," Reynolds noted.
"But you can't understand the present if you don't understand the past,"
Nabinger argued.
Reynolds frowned. "I thought we had a pretty good lock on the past from what you learned when you accessed the guardian. Aspasia and the rebels and the Kortad and all that."
Nabinger slapped a photo on the cot between them, pinning it down with a coffee mug. "That's an underwater shot off Bimini, where Atlantis, or Airlia Base Camp if you want the unromantic term the Oversight Committee has adopted, was located. I was interested in it because that must have been where the Germans got their information about the bomb in the Great Pyramid.
33.
"The runes had been damaged, but I've had one of the UN's computer experts reconstruct and digitally enhance it. I've got enough to work on a partial translation now."
"And?" Reynolds asked. "What's it tell you?"
"It makes mention of the Great Pyramid. And there may have been a drawing that showed the lower chamber where the bomb was hidden. But it also makes mention of the Kortad," Nabinger said.
"I take it that it's not good news?" Reynolds asked.
Nabinger frowned. "It's kind of funny. The more I study the high runes the more I think I understand the language and the syntax, but some things just don't make sense."
Reynolds waited, sensing the uncertainty in her friend.
"This one panel talks about the coming of the Kortad. And the next panel gives information about the atomic weapon hidden inside the Great Pyramid. But there's more than references to just the pyramid and the Kortad. The panel refers to other places, but I can't understand the geographic code system the Airlia used for our planet. It's more complex than lat.i.tude and longitude."
Nabinger had picked the photo up again and was fingering it. "Oh, I don't know. It's just so frustrating, uncovering one word after another, not being exactly sure of the meaning of the word, its tense, its proper syntax. Now I've uncovered a system I can't crack. When I thought I was dealing with ancient artifacts and dead cultures I could bear being patient, but this is different."
34.
"You're still dealing with a dead culture," Reynolds noted.
"What makes you so sure of that?" Nabinger cut in. "One thing that no one seems too concerned about that concerns me greatly is what happened to the Airlia? Did they just disappear? Commit ma.s.s suicide after secreting away the mothership, the bouncers, and the guardian computer? Why'd they leave the guardian on, then?
"And what about the rebels? What happened to them? We know they directed the building of the Great Pyramid as a s.p.a.ce beacon, so maybe they were the pharaohs. Maybe their descendants still walk the Earth?"
Kelly Reynolds smiled. It had been a favorite topic of speculation around the press tent. "Maybe we're all descended to some degree from the Airlia," she said. "We don't exactly know what they looked like other than that they had red hair and a humanoid form. The statues on this island weren't exactly built to scale."
"I don't know," Nabinger said. "But what I do know is that whatever the UN's Alien Oversight Committee decides to do about the guardian and the mothership is going to affect the course of human history more than anything else that has ever happened. And I'm not sure I feel much better about these UN people than I did about Majestic. The big players on the Security Council have loaded the committee with their people, and they seem to be doing a lot of talking in secret."
"That's why I'm here," Kelly Reynolds said, tapping her laptop. "To make sure the truth gets out. Majestic worked in total secrecy; at least here we have some openness."
35.
Nabinger snorted. "You've got openness at least until something happens. Then see how fast this place gets locked down tight." "That's the big question," Reynolds said. "What is going to happen next?" She was looking down at the photos. "I've got a stupid question, but why did the Airlia bother to write all this high rune stuff down if the guardian computer has a record of it all? Seems kind of primitive for a race as highly developed as they were."
"I've been asking myself the same question," Nabinger said.
"And what have you come up with?" Reynolds asked.
"I don't know," Nabinger replied. "I think the high rune language in many places was written by humans copying the Airlia, but I'm not sure." He gathered up the photos. "By the way, do you know where Mike is?"
"No. He was in D.C. with Lisa Duncan testifying, but when I tried to call him from the airport before I came back here, I was told he was off on a mission."
Nabinger nodded knowingly. "Yeah, well, I'd like to know exactly what he's up to now. You can bet he isn't sitting on his b.u.t.t wondering, he's doing something."
Chapter 4.
At the same moment that Peter Nabinger was wondering where he was, Captain Mike Turcotte was sipping a cup of coffee in one of the ready rooms on board the aircraft carrier USS George Washington.
Turcotte could feel the steady drum of the engines reverberating through the floor panels. The George Washington was the newest carrier in the American Navy's inventory. The most recent of the Nimitz cla.s.s, it displaced over 100,000 tons of water and was cruising south at thirty knots from its normal duty station in the Persian Gulf. Off the starboard bow lay the coast of Ethiopia.
That the carrier had been taken off-station from the critical and volatile Persian Gulf told Turcotte how important this mission was, as much as what Lisa Duncan, seated to his left, had already told him. The presence of a British lieutenant colonel three seats over who sported the sand-colored beret of the elite British Special Air Service, SAS, also indicated a certain degree of 37.
martial seriousness. On the other side of the British colonel was an American major in a flight suit, the patch Velcroed to his left shoulder showing the Grim Reaper of Task Force 160, the Night-stalkers.
They were all prepared to listen to a briefing by a former Soviet operative.
The man, Karol Kostanov, spoke in clipped English, his accent polished at one of the KGB's finishing schools during the height of the Cold War. He claimed he had been working freelance around the world since the breakup of the Soviet Union.
How the UN Alien Oversight Committee had gotten hold of him, Turcotte had no idea, but he imagined that it involved a lot of cash, based on the expensive suit and custom-made shoes Kostanov wore.
"Please proceed, Mr. Kostanov," Duncan ordered once she made sure everyone was ready.
Kostanov had a carefully cultivated day's growth of beard, framing his aristocratic face and thin gla.s.ses, the frames made of some obviously expensive metal. Turcotte wondered if Kostanov even needed the lenses in the gla.s.ses or if they were part of his costume, designed to impress. Kostanov's skin was dark, his hair streaked with gray.
"I was contacted a day and a half ago by a representative of the United Nations Alien Oversight Committee," Kostanov began, but Duncan waved a hand. "I know about that," she said. "You claim you know about a cache of alien artifacts in southwestern Ethiopia, guarded by people who work for a South African business cartel. Since we are closing on helicopter range of that area, I don't 38.
have time to listen to your superfluous bulls.h.i.t, as we will be launching a military strike force soon. Give me the facts."
Kostanov pursed his lips as he considered the diminutive woman who had just spoken so harshly.
"Ah, the facts," Kostanov repeated, just the slightest edge of mockery in his voice. "There are not many, so I will not waste your time.
"One. Before the breakup I worked at Tyuratam, a Soviet strategic missile test center. It was also headquarters to Section Four of the minister of interior.