The Bone Labyrinth

by James Rollins

  Gray looked aghast. “Who?”

  “Perhaps a competing hominin tribe, another branch of mankind’s past. We know early man lived alongside more than just Neanderthals. There were small pockets of other tribes.”

  “But a species this large?” Seichan asked.

  Lena shrugged. “Some offshoots of Homo erectus were considered to be veritable giants. Like a species called Meganthropus, or Large Man.” She waved a hand to encompass the ring of art. “I think this is a depiction of a real war with this other tribe, a fight for the future of mankind, a battle between brawn and brain, between ignorance and intelligence.”

  Gray reached toward one of those monstrous figures. “If you’re right, this enemy might have been the driving force that eventually united the Neanderthal hybrids. Without this external threat, the tribe of ancient teachers might never have been forged.”

  Lena nodded. “Perhaps such a danger also explains why these teachers needed a home of their own. A place to retreat from the world where they could study and learn in peace, preserving what was important while occasionally venturing forth to share that knowledge.”

  Roland stared toward yet another staircase on the far side of this room. “But what happened to them? Where did they go?”

  As they all headed toward those dark stairs, he feared they might never know the truth—but he was equally scared they would.

  1:47 A.M.

  Gray led everyone down the wide stairs. The steps seemed to stretch forever ahead of him. He calculated they must be at least fifteen to twenty stories belowground. He pictured their group winding down into a dry well with water surrounding them on all sides.

  How far down does this go?

  He swiped sweat from his brow. Each level grew perceptibly hotter, the air heavier with sulfur, as if they were descending into hell.

  Finally the end of the stairs appeared ahead. A silvery brilliance shone up from the bottom. Initially, he thought there was some light source down there, but once he reached the last few steps, he recognized that the radiance came from their own lights, reflecting off crystal surfaces.

  “Incredible,” Roland murmured.

  Like the golden room above, this chamber was circular, about the same size, only here every surface was covered in crystals. The floor and walls were tiled in what looked to be quartz sheets, set off with gems and other colored crystals. The ceiling featured a moonless starscape created by chunks of quartz set within plates of obsidian. A colonnade of crystal pillars supported it all, appearing Gothic in design with pedestals and capitals adorned with gems and linked one to another by arches.

  Under those arches stood a circle of doors encrusted with jewels, their jambs sealed with black wax. Two of the doors—one on each side of the room—had been pried open. Broken bits of their seals littered the floor.

  Roland headed to one, Lena to the other.

  Gray and Seichan moved together toward the room’s center, drawn by what stood in the middle of the space.

  Roland called from one side. “It’s a library.” His light glowed from inside the room. “There are hundreds of bookcases in here, all gold-plated and spreading on and on. And so many books . . .” He knelt down. “There’s one on the floor, like someone pulled it off a shelf and left it there. Maybe the handiwork of Jaramillo.”

  “I found the same over here,” Lena reported from the opposite side, using her own flashlight. “Golden shelves. And I can make out more rooms beyond this one.”

  Roland examined the abandoned book. “No wonder Jaramillo never returned this to the shelf. It’s got to weigh twenty kilos. The covers are made of a blackish metal with pages that look like thin sheets of copper. The writing inside is indecipherable, but it appears to be the same linear script we saw on the standing stones aboveground and along the bottom row of that hall of languages.”

  Lena called out, her voice full of awe. “My books . . . the books over here are composed of fine sheets of a crystalline material, meticulously etched. I can make out geometric shapes and strange designs in them, along with what I swear look like mathematical formulas.”

  Before the two could wander deeper into those libraries, Gray ordered them both to return. “I need everyone over here.”

  He and Seichan had stopped at the room’s greater mystery.

  Standing in the center of the room was a long dais sculpted from a large block of translucent quartz. A human skeleton sculpted of gold rested on top, each bone and joint perfectly rendered. The figure lay on its back, holding a familiar length of golden rod.

  “What do you make of this?” Gray asked Roland and Lena as they joined him.

  “That must be the Rib of Eve, like we saw carved of ivory at the chapel.” Roland ran the beam of his light over its shaft, illuminating the fine striations that marked this ancient yardstick, a length associated with the circumference of the earth. His voice grew hushed with awe. “There’s a reference in the Book of Revelation. Chapter 21, verse 15. ‘The angel who talked with me held a golden reed to measure the city, its gates, and its wall.’ Could this be that same golden unit of measurement?”

  No one answered.

  Instead, Lena focused her light on the breadth of the skeleton. “That’s odd,” she mumbled.

  “What?” Gray could tell from the skull’s conformation that it was a representation of a Neanderthal hybrid, but from Lena’s reaction, she must have discerned something else about it.

  She gave a small shake of her head. “The physiological detail is amazing . . . but it’s also wrong.”

  “Wrong how?” Seichan asked.

  “Look at the pelvis.” She concentrated her light. “One half is anatomically female, but the other half is clearly male. There are the similar discrepancies throughout the skeleton, a blending of feminine and masculine conformations.”

  Gray frowned.

  Strange.

  Seichan shifted over to the head of the dais, where a waist-high column stood. “And what’s this supposed to be?”

  Gray joined her. The pillar’s top surface was cut at an angle, displaying a symbol they had all seen before. It was a six-pointed star, composed of 73 pieces.

  “It’s the same as the petroglyph that marked Eve’s grave,” Lena noted. “Only instead of palm prints, this one is made up of metal and crystal marbles.”

  “What’s it doing here?” Roland asked.

  “I don’t know,” Lena admitted. “But the prominent placement must be significant.”

  Seichan shrugged. “Or maybe someone really liked playing Chinese checkers.”

  Gray picked up one of the metallic marbles from its concave socket, wanting to examine it more closely. As soon as he lifted it free, a deep tonal chime sounded, reverberating from all around, as if a gong had struck the crystal room.

  Everyone froze.

  “Put it back,” Lena urged.

  Gray obeyed and dropped it back in place. They all held their breaths—but the ringing chime sounded again a moment later.

  “Too late.” Seichan dropped to a knee and examined the pedestal. “You triggered something, and now there’s no putting the cat back in the bag.”

  Gray pictured the walls of water surrounding this dry well. Was this some sort of booby trap?

  Maybe we should’ve heeded Chakikui’s warning about this place.

  Another chime sounded.

  Seichan squinted at the base of the pillar. “Look at this. I can make out thin threads of copper or gold running from the sockets on top. They disappear into the floor.”

  Gray dropped to a knee and concentrated his beam into the column. “She’s right. It’s likely the triggering mechanism.” He stood and studied the pattern on top. “And this may be the way to stop it.”

  “How?” Lena asked. “Are you thinking this is some sort of test?”

  “Maybe.”

  She grew thoughtful. “Like a puzzle, a challenge of one’s knowledge.”

  He nodded. “Perhaps to continue from here, the build
ers required you to prove yourself worthy.”

  Seichan crossed her arms. “Then I suggest you don’t fail.”

  As if emphasizing that warning, the room rang out again, louder this time.

  “I . . . I think that one came faster,” Roland noted.

  Gray searched around. If the interval is growing shorter—

  Roland finished his thought. “I think it’s acting like a timer.”

  Gray found all their eyes upon him. He took a deep breath, knowing they were depending on him to solve this riddle. He concentrated again on the star pattern, remembering Seichan’s reference to a board of Chinese checkers.

  But what are the rules of this game?

  With the line already crossed, Gray plucked up the metallic ball again, feeling its heft and weight in his palm. He turned to Roland. “You said the covers in your library were made of a dark metal. Would you say this is that same material?”

  Roland examined it closer and nodded. “I think so.”

  Gray removed one of the quartz-like stones from the display and held it toward Lena. “And these are crystal, like the books in the other library.”

  “Do you think that’s significant?” Lena asked.

  “Maybe.” He held the marbles in his two palms, noting the difference in their weights. “There’s a pattern of opposites here. Opaque and translucent. Metal and crystal.” He nodded to the golden skeleton. “Male and female.”

  He sighed heavily, feeling he was close to understanding something but couldn’t quite get there. He knew one of the reasons he had been recruited into Sigma was because of his unique ability to see patterns where no one else could, to make connections between disparate elements, to see the whole amidst the parts, the forest from the trees.

  Maybe I’ve lost it. Maybe this time I get lost in those woods.

  The chime pealed again, setting his teeth on edge.

  “Opposites,” he mumbled, knowing that was the answer.

  Metal and crystal . . .

  Dark and clear . . .

  Heavy and light . . .

  Male and female . . .

  He sensed he was close. He struggled to find other polar properties inherent in the mystery presented here. He picked up another of the metal spheres and rolled it next to the first one. They clicked and stuck together.

  His eyes widened. “They’re magnetic.”

  He stared at the marble in his other hand.

  And the crystal ones are not.

  It was another set of opposites.

  He closed his eyes.

  But what’s the significance?

  As another gong sounded, he ran everything he knew about the past two days through his head. His breathing grew more labored. Knowing he was running out of time only added to his tension. What was it about opposites that kept slipping out of his grasp?

  Then his eyes snapped open.

  Not just opposites . . .

  He stared down at the skeleton, at this blend of male and female, the two sides of the same coin.

  “They’re mirrors of each other.” He turned to the others. “I think I know what to do.”

  Seichan looked dour. “You’d better be right. Something tells me this is a pass-or-fail test.”

  The room rang again, definitely louder and faster now.

  Gray studied the pattern atop the pillar.

  What if I’m wrong?

  1:58 A.M.

  “Where did they go?” Shu Wei asked the boy, looming over his small frame.

  His left eye was already beginning to swell from where Major Sergeant Kwan had pistol-whipped the kid. Her second-in-command held the same weapon against the temple of the old tattooed tribesman, who knelt beside a pool of water fed by a cascading stream.

  Her strike team had ambushed the pair after sweeping through the forest, following the trail of her four targets. Her group had traveled dark, only using night-vision gear. They had no trouble tracking the others through a forest riddled with mists. The ground was perpetually damp, making it easy to follow their footprints.

  Still, once her team had arrived, they had discovered the tracks had vanished at the river’s edge. Her team’s best hunters—Zhu and Feng—had searched the far banks, attempting to pick up the trail again, but they had returned and reported no sign of the others.

  While the two had been gone, she and Kwan had done their best to extract information from the pair of natives. But their captives had proved stubborn. She had quickly come to realize the elder did not speak English, so she had concentrated her attention on the boy.

  Tears streamed down his face now, but his eyes shone with defiance. She pulled out a dagger from her boot and drew its dull side along his cheek—then reversed the blade with a flick of her wrist.

  “I’ll not ask again so politely,” she warned.

  The old tribesman spoke from the riverbank. The boy glanced over to him and answered, sounding angry. The gaunt man repeated his words in a commanding tone.

  The boy sagged, closing his eyes for a moment, then opening them again. He pointed to the far side of the pool, toward the shoulder of a high cliff.

  “They went there,” he said. “Down into the forbidden place.”

  Shu searched but saw only sheer rock. She hefted her dagger higher. “Is this a trick?”

  The boy sighed in exasperation and waved toward the water’s surface. “Cave . . . at the bottom.”

  She squinted, then spotted the flooded entrance to the mouth of a tunnel. “They went in there?”

  He nodded his head, then lowered his chin in shame.

  She grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him to the riverbank. “You’ll show us. Take us.”

  He pulled free, his fear making him strong. “No. Too dangerous.”

  “Show us or I’ll skin the old man while you watch.”

  She nodded to Kwan, who drew out a filleting knife. She knew from firsthand experience his skill with such a blade. The knife had freed many tongues—both figuratively and literally.

  The boy visibly swallowed, looking at his toes.

  She dropped to a knee and lifted his chin with the point of her dagger. She softened her voice, turning it silky. “We do not wish to hurt either of you. Once this is over, we’ll leave your forests. You can go about your lives as if nothing has happened.”

  The boy took a deep breath. It didn’t look like he was convinced, but he turned his gaze guiltily to the pool. “I will take you.”

  Good.

  She stood and faced Kwan. “Leave Zhu here with the old man. To ensure the boy’s continuing cooperation.” She nodded across the pool. “We’ll dig the others out of that hole ourselves.”

  He nodded.

  She pointed to his filleting knife. “Keep that handy.”

  Her aunt—Major General Lau—demanded that she learn what the others knew before dispatching them. She intended to do that.

  And to allow the Black Crow to collect his trophies.

  23

  May 1, 12:22 P.M. CST

  Beijing, China

  At least Chang Sun did as we asked.

  Monk searched the stretch of dark hallway ahead of them as their commandeered truck raced down its length. Only the occasional glow from an emergency beacon illuminated their path.

  After learning where the Chinese were holding their captives, Monk had ordered Chang to cut the power to the facility—both to add to the confusion and to help hide their passage through the underground facility. Additionally, as instructed, the lieutenant colonel had diverted any search teams away from their vehicle’s path.

  Still, not trusting Chang, Monk kept everyone focused. In the open bed behind him, the Shaw brothers guarded their flanks, while the smallest of their team, Kong, crouched with his assault rifle balanced on the tailgate, watching their rear.

  “We’re almost there,” Kimberly reported. She held up her satellite phone, the screen aglow with a schematic of the subterranean lab complex. “Take the next right turn.”

 
; Sergeant Chin nodded from behind the wheel and leaned hard as he took the sharp corner into a narrower passageway.

  “There should be a ramp ahead that’ll take us down to the level where they’re holding Dr. Crandall and Baako.” Kimberly looked grim. “But we’re still a good way off from where Chang said they’ve caged Kowalski. Some place called the Ark.”

  Monk pointed ahead. “Maria first, then Kowalski.”

  Chin pushed their truck faster, as if sensing Monk’s fear.

  I hope we’re not too late.

  Gunfire suddenly erupted from up ahead, explosively loud in the confined hallway. Rifle flashes flared out of the darkness. The truck’s windshield splintered as Monk grabbed Kimberly and pulled her low. Chin began to slow their vehicle, but now was not the time for caution.

  “Floor it!” Monk hollered. “Keep going.”

  Answering gunfire chattered from the truck bed. Monk leaned out the passenger window with his sidearm clutched in one hand. He aimed toward the enemy. He didn’t know if this was a trap set by Chang or if their truck had accidently stumbled upon a search team.

  Either way, Monk knew this ambush would cost them valuable time.

  That is, if we survive it . . .

  As he began firing, he cast out a silent command to those he had come to rescue.

  Hold out a little longer, guys.

  12:24 P.M.

  Kowalski tugged on the handle of the giant steel sliders that trapped them in the vivisection lab. They refused to budge—then a horrendous rip of metal and glass drew his attention back over his shoulder.

  A massive dark shape loomed beyond the observation windows. A furry hand gripped the frame of the smaller casement window and tore it completely out, taking most of the surrounding pane along with it. The sudden release caused the gorilla to lose its precarious perch. As it fell, it took more of the window with it.

  Through the wide opening, the rank musk of the habitat flowed into the lab.

  Maria huddled against the wall next to Kowalski, holding Baako’s hand. The rest of the surgical staff cowered on his other side.

  A scraping and scrabbling echoed to them as the fire hose twanged and vibrated. More were coming, scaling the rock wall toward the large opening.