“I don’t see what else you could have done,” Jonathan said.
“The question is what’s going to happen next,” Grimes said. “And when.”
Will turned to Daniel. “What about the White Stone inscription? Did you find the book?”
Daniel shook his head and sighed. “We didn’t bring the book by Schwinger back with us,” he said. “It must be on the shelves at the base.”
“We’ll have to go back,” Will said.
“That’s not an option,” Grimes said. “The North Dakota is disabled, and we’re not sending another sub through the tunnel.”
“Too risky?” Will asked, annoyed. “Do you see what’s going on here?”
Denise grabbed Will’s hand. “We’re going to try to decipher it ourselves,” she said. “The languages expert is working on it. She says it won’t be as difficult as it was in the 1940’s – much more is known about ancient languages.”
“Why does it matter?” Grimes asked. “We’ve already done our part. We needed the information before all of this happened.”
It was a valid point, Will thought. But they still needed the information. “While it’s true that we’ve already triggered something, we don’t know what we set into action. If we have to go back to the base to figure it out, it would be worth it.” Will looked to the others. “Let’s hope our expert can crack it.”
Just then, a young sailor entered the room and whispered something in Grimes’ ear.
Grimes stood. “Let’s go.”
“What is it?” Daniel asked.
“The beacon stopped its broadcast,” Grimes said. “It’s descending.”
6
Saturday, 13 June (9:45 a.m. EST)
The Antarctic air froze the moisture in Will’s nose as he stood on the deck of the Stennis and squinted toward the dark horizon. A hundred others shivered with him, including Denise, and looked in a direction that felt like west. The carrier group had kept its distance, maybe a mile, but the probe’s shadowy image made it seem much closer.
It was shrinking fast. All of the surface ships had beamed floodlights in that direction so that, even at a mile in dark conditions, they could see and hear the white, churning water where the stem of the descending beacon met the surface. Everyone remained perfectly silent for the next 10 minutes, until the spherical head finally plunged beneath the cold waves with an explosive, final splash.
Denise hooked her right arm around Will’s left. “My face is numb,” she said and pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “What do we do now?”
“Wait,” he replied, trying to hide his concern. “Maybe we’ll go home now.”
Denise nodded, and then tugged at his arm. “Come on, I’m freezing,” she said.
Will nodded and followed her. He needed sleep, but knew it would elude him. He feared the memories that would invade his nightmares. Many of those memories weren’t even his own.
7
Sunday, 14 June (7:08 a.m. EST)
Will woke up and rubbed his eyes. If he’d dreamt, he didn’t remember it. For that he was grateful.
The digital clock taped to the bunk above him read the same time as when he’d first laid his head on the pillow. Twelve hours had passed. It was a restless sleep.
He got out of the rack and showered. His stomach grumbling, he went the mess hall. He made his way through the line and left with a large plate of food. He nibbled on bacon as he looked for a seat. He found Denise sitting alone at a table in a corner and joined her.
“You walked right past me on the way in,” she said smiling.
“Sorry, starving,” he said. “Where are the others?”
“In the research room,” she replied. “The scholar from Stanford, Candice Schilling, is with them.”
“Did she say how long it’s going to take?” he asked.
She shrugged and shook her head.
“I still think they should go back to the base and collect everything,” he said, shaking his head. “They might have missed something other than the book.”
“I agree,” she said. “What do you think is coming next?”
He shrugged. “Nothing good. The probe sent out a signal to start the process. It means that, whatever’s coming, it’s coming from the outside.”
“Outside of earth?”
He nodded.
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Denise left the table and returned with a bagel. “Are you coming back to Chicago when we get back?” she asked.
He hadn’t given much thought to going anywhere. “I have some things to finish up in Louisiana.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Going after Syncorp?”
“I have to tie up some loose ends, that’s all,” he replied. He was going to destroy Syncorp, but first he’d collect every bit of information he could find. He was going to find out whether the computers that Adler had used to bait him really existed.
She nodded and pursed her lips. “Is it another woman?” The question caught him off guard. “Sure,” he said, and shook his head slowly and laughed. “With all that’s happening, I had time to find a woman on the side.”
“Can I come with you?”
It was something he hadn’t considered. Under normal conditions, there was nothing he’d like more than to spend time with her. He nodded. “If we get back before the world is destroyed.”
“I’d like to be able to laugh at that,” she said.
“Don’t you have Foundation work to get back to in Chicago?”
“At this point, the Foundation is no longer my first concern,” she replied. “I don’t even know if I could function – my mind would be elsewhere.”
He knew it would be the same for him. Although the world seemed peaceful for the moment something could come at any time.
Will caught a glimpse of Jonathan entering the cafeteria with a large plastic mug. “Looks like we have company,” he said, and nodded in Jonathan’s direction.
Denise looked over her shoulder and then waved her hand to get Jonathan’s attention.
Jonathan filled his mug with coffee and walked over. “You two going to join us?” he asked, standing at the head of the table. “With the help of our expert, they’re making some headway.”
“Anything new?” Will asked. “Or just confirmation of what has already happened?”
Jonathan shrugged. “Not sure,” he admitted. “But it’s interesting, and we have a week to kill as we sail back to civilization.”
Will laughed. “You always need a puzzle, don’t you?”
“Keeps the brain alive,” Jonathan replied. “Let’s go.”
They followed Jonathan to the research room. Most of the crates had been moved out since the last time Will was there, including the one with the urn.
Daniel and Sylvia greeted them as they entered and, although he’d seen her before, they formally introduced him to Dr. Candice Schilling, the ancient languages expert. She was a short, heavy-set woman with long gray hair wrapped in a bun. Her thick glasses magnified her dark eyes. She looked at him in what seemed to be both awe and suspicion. She’d been there for Grimes’ cup demonstration.
The White Stone was on a felt cloth in the middle of a table. Depressed into its smooth, off-white surface were five rings of black symbols. Each looked to be of a different type of script, and they got longer as they went towards the outer part of the disk – the outer ring being the longest by virtue of geometry.
He looked at the outermost ring and read it – just as if he knew the language in which it was written. “To find the probe, divide the angles in units of radians along latitude and longitude,” he read aloud. “Zero longitude intersects the place where the stone was discovered, zero latitude at the equator. Follow the drum to the probe.” He then read aloud the numbers locating its exact position.
Dr. Schilling glanced at her notes, and then back to Will. “That’s very close,” she said. “You’ve read the notebooks?”
Will shook his head. “It’s not just close,” he said.
He’d never studied ancient languages, but he knew immediately how he was able to read the script. It was from the Judge’s imprint. The knowledge of the scripts just came to him.
He examined the second circle. “The inner void is accessed in the evanescent state. Evanescence is achieved by transcending mind and body.”
Dr. Schilling looked at him, surprised. “How did you get that last line?” she asked and looked to Sylvia. “Transcending could also be interpreted as suffering. Did you guys have that already?”
Sylvia, looking pale now, shook her head.
“No,” Will said. “The word is transcending.”
“How can you be sure?” Schilling asked, doubtingly.
“Third,” Will continued. “Turn the switch to summon the Judge. In three days you will be called again. Enter the orb before it recedes and seals your fate.”
“Where are you getting this from?” Dr. Schilling asked, her voice raised and she seemed flustered.
“Fourth,” Will said. “Should you fail, your world will be destroyed and renewed. Judgment is imminent.”
“How are you doing this, Will?” Denise asked, trying to get closer to him.
Will stuck out his arm and shook his head for her to stop. “Five,” he said, and read the innermost ring. “If you should pass, the casting shall commence.”
“What does it mean?” Denise asked no one in particular.
Schilling paged frantically through her notes. “What he’s saying is consistent with the fragments I’ve deciphered, as well as those from the notebooks taken from the base.”
Will explained what the Judge had told him about the casting of souls. When he was finished, they all stared at him, except for Sylvia who had been writing it all down.
“Looks like we’re at the fourth ring – and will never experience the fifth,” Will said.
“I don’t understand how you are able to do this,” Dr. Schilling said. “This needs to be verified.”
“It’s correct,” Will said. “But I don’t know what good it does us. We needed this information long before I accessed the probe. Now we’re at the inner ring, and it’s not meant for us. It’s too late.”
Daniel cleared his throat and stood. “Maybe we should have stayed in the south,” he said. “What if another one appears?”
Will doubted there would be another probe. They should instead be looking to the stars.
CHAPTER XVII
1
Friday, 19 June (3:17 p.m. CST – Baton Rouge)
Summer in Baton Rouge beat winter in Antarctica.
Having Denise around brightened Will’s mood, even with the threat on the horizon. At times, everything that had happened concerning the probe seemed like a distant dream. Other times, his head pounded with anxiety, as if he were watching a nuclear bomb drop from the sky above a city.
The sun beat down on them as he and Denise walked across the courtyard of his apartment complex and passed by the pool.
“Looks like the FBI set you up well,” she said, admiring the fountain pouring water from the hot tub to the cool, blue water of the pool.
“Yeah, and in more than one way,” Will said, referring to Roy and Natalie Tate, and the leaks.
Denise sighed and shook her head. “Jonathan vetted the agents who will be helping us with this.”
Jonathan and CIA Director Thackett had gotten the FBI to move on Syncorp. They’d already gotten the warrants, and the NSA had already tapped into all electronic communications. No more data was getting to China. More shipments had gone out, and were allowed to do so as to not draw alarm, but they were being tracked. They’d be stopped when the operation commenced.
Will knew there was a chance that Cho had warned Syncorp that they’d been discovered, and ordered his minions to destroy evidence. He also could have set up a dead man’s switch – a protocol that would set certain events into action if he failed to check in. In this case, it would be a literal interpretation of the device – Cho having burned to death on the deck of the Chinese carrier. Will had warned the FBI to move quickly, yet they still dragged.
Jonathan was arriving at Baton Rouge airport that evening to help direct the sack on Syncorp. His official position was that of legal advisor, as was Denise’s. Will, on the other hand, was still on the FBI payroll.
Their first objective was to collect all of Syncorp’s information. He hoped they’d find new information regarding impending events, but knew it was unlikely. The alternative was to sit and wait, and he was no good at that, and neither were Jonathan and Denise.
His second objective, unbeknownst to anyone, was to destroy everything at Syncorp – every instrument, computer, and production device in the place, as well as any products they had in stock.
“Should we get Jonathan’s room ready?” Denise asked.
“It’s ready,” he replied. Jonathan would stay with them in his apartment. There was a sofa bed in the office. “Let’s take a walk and then hit the pool.”
“Okay,” Denise said. “Where are we going?”
Will grabbed her hand and led her around the pool and through the clubhouse to the front of the complex. They took a left on a sidewalk, went through a gate, and stepped onto the asphalt running track.
“Pretty hot,” Denise said.
Will nodded. “The pool will feel good afterwards. I just wanted to show you the rest of this place. There’s another pool on the other side of the complex, and even a putting green with sand trap.”
“You golf?” she asked.
“Not much,” he replied.
They took a bend to the left, went north about 75 yards, and then another bend to the west. After 50 yards, live oaks from the cemetery on their right shaded them from the sun. Will was about to say something when he was distracted by something to his right. He thought he saw movement in the vines of the cemetery fence. He stopped and looked.
“What?” Denise asked.
“Thought I saw something.”
He listened for a few seconds and then continued walking. He was about to ask her a question when he again detected movement to his right. He stopped and took a step closer to the fence.
“What is it?” Denise asked.
Will shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “I feel like … well … like we’re being watched.”
“You’re scaring me,” Denise said. “That’s just an old cemetery.”
The feeling became stronger and stronger, and goose bumps broke out on his arms despite the heat.
He walked to a bench on the inside of the track and sat down, facing north, towards the graveyard. He patted the bench next to him and Denise took a seat to his left.
He closed his eyes.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I need to check this out,” he said. “Don’t let me fall over.”
He lowered his sunglasses from the top of his head to his eyes and separated.
In an instant he was 10 feet above his body, looking down on the two of them on the bench. He ascended above the live oaks of the graveyard and went to the northwest corner. He descended slowly, and watched for movement around the fence.
As he dropped through the thick interleaved canopies of the trees, a dark epiphany overcame him as he realized what he saw before him.
Hundreds of wraith-like ghosts were staring out the long, wrought-iron fence, next to the track. They seemed to be watching him and Denise, sitting on the bench.
He approached them from behind. When he got within 20 yards, one turned and moved towards him – not in a threatening way. The rest quickly surrounded him from all directions, including from above. Although the wraiths were similar many respects, they were also distinctly different. Their luminous features changed with time, but most assumed a human-like appearance. They looked frightened.
He remained still as they examined him. A static sound seemed to build and he realized they were all talking. He couldn’t tell what they were saying.
One of the ghosts came forward,
and the hundreds of others backed away to give him room. It was of human form, but looked different than the others. Will didn’t recognize the being, although it reminded him of the Judge.
“Do I know you?” Will asked.
“You should,” the wraith said. “It wasn’t that long ago.”
He recognized the voice. “Landau?” Will asked.
“Yes.”
Will thought he might be dreaming, or going insane. Ever since his first encounter with him in the Red Box, he was never certain whether Landau was real or just a voice in his head. “What are you doing here?”
“Completing my task,” Landau said. “Why do you think you are here?”
Will couldn’t answer the question.
“Did you ever figure out where you were on July 19th, 1952?” Landau asked.
Landau had asked him that question repeatedly while in the Red Box, and it often seeped into his thoughts whenever he had a moment to think. His answer was always the same. “No,” he replied. “I hadn’t been born yet.” He was concerned with the future, not the past.
“Everything is how it is supposed to be,” Landau said. “You are where you are supposed to be.”
“I don’t understand,” Will said. “Why are all of these … people … here?”
“Judgment has been passed,” Landau said. “They have returned to accept their sentence.”
The crowd of wraiths grumbled in what Will perceived as a tone of anger and fear.
“What is your purpose?” Will asked. “Why are you here?”
“I am the Shepherd,” Landau replied.
“I don’t understand.”
“I take freed souls to a place of rest,” Landau explained. “And I bring them back when is time.”
Landau ascended 100 feet into the air and Will followed. The others remained where they were.
“I can no longer help you,” Landau said.
“Help me?” Will asked. “You didn’t help me! You’re the reason I can separate. You’re the reason I pulled that switch!”
EXOSKELETON II: Tympanum Page 41
