The Jesus Christ Cypher

by Sebastian Kentor

  I’ll carry out my orders, and the Phoenix will bless me with his immortality.

  Berlaymont had a strange shape of a crooked cross, reminding him of a proto Christian cross.

  A glorious symbol for some, ready to sacrifice everything across millennia, for others marking their eternal tomb, he thought, trying aftward to empty his mind and focus on the path ahead.

  The flight was thrilling, but for a second, he felt he would not manage to cross over, as the gust of an aggressive wind began to slow his perfectly calculated jump.

  His dark Batman-like military-grade suit was doing its job perfectly. His training made his body adaptable to any type of environment including severe conditions.

  Soon my Master will bring me close to my enlightenment.

  The excitement of these thoughts filled his mind.

  I just need to resist a few more seconds.

  The shape of Berlaymont was getting closer; however, the crosswind was also getting stronger.

  With great precision, while skillfully maneuvering the current, he landed softly on the metallic rooftop by rolling in a methodical manner.

  This was nothing compared to all the jumps he had to do over the years; however, he was feeling old and fragile for the first time.

  I need to be reborn; I need to get back my strength, and I will succeed, he repeated over and over in his mind.

  The building’s metallic structure was engulfed by the darkness of the clouds reflected in the solar panels, and the noise of the rain began to claw at his sensitive ears to a deafening pace.

  It was like the sound of infinite torture, a repetitive noise of the storm to come.

  ◆◆◆

  §CHAPTER 6§

  23H25

  THE PRESIDENT of the European Commission felt a heavy responsibility on her shoulders.

  She sensed that after all this time, something dark would happen.

  Her security was impeccable, surrounded by guardians who were perfectly trained. The building had the latest upgrade with the addition of a new A.I. driven interface that would manage to identify any intruders.

  I must quickly put my plan in motion.

  However, they were never prepared for an intrusion from above.

  The rooftop did not have any security sensors, due to a cut in the European Union’s budget because its member states had complained that it was overly inflated.

  Hearing Lydia’s calm voice was always so soothing, and she had so many things to tell her. While talking to Lydia, Helene thought about next steps. Her body began to shake under the tremendous psychological pressure…

  There will not be enough time to explain everything to her. Where should I start?

  I need to protect her; she is the daughter I never had.

  I made a promise…

  I need to tell her how proud I am of her achievements, as a renowned geneticist pioneering new paths in gene editing, and not seeking any fame.

  There is so much goodness in her. I need to help her succeed where I failed.

  “Lydia, please listen carefully. It’s about your parents; you need to go to your dad’s office and find an access card.”

  “The Fibonacci code will show you the way; you have to…”

  Her voice abruptly ended with a muffled sound.

  “Helene, are you okay? Talk to me.” There was no answer.

  “Alexa, is the connection still active?”

  “Yes, Lydia, the network has full signal; maybe Madame de Moncler fainted?”

  “Should I call the emergency number?”

  Lydia did not answer. She had a gut feeling that something terrible happened, and nobody could help.

  She had to find a way to talk to her again and find the access card Helene mentioned.

  “Alexa, try to re-establish the secure connection.”

  ◆◆◆

  §CHAPTER 7§

  THE ASSASSIN was getting closer, recalling the plans he simply downloaded from the internet; he just had to find the location of the President’s office, which was positioned on the northern part of the cruciform.

  “My target has to be there. I have to end this and fulfill my destiny.”

  His eyes were protected by a special augmentation XGlass, offering a real-time data feed of the weather parameters. A stronger storm was coming.

  In recent years, the climate of the country abruptly changed; severe thunderstorms and even hurricanes sweeping every corner of the European Union.

  He quickly traversed the rooftop and headed towards the west wing.

  On the horizon, he noticed another oddly-shaped spherical structure illuminated from inside.

  It could have been a dragon egg pulsating with energy, the perfect example of the deep symbolism around the city. Yet so many were blind and ignorant of the mystic arts.

  A strange wind started blowing, and his face was being hit by ice-cold droplets of water, a much welcome shower preparing him for his target.

  His XGlass was reviewing details about the building he was staring at. Its name was the EUROPA building, the main seat of the European Council.

  Interestingly, the dragon egg was encased in a wooden cage joined together by glass windows; a transparent frame simulating the fragility of an eggshell.

  The facade consisted of a patchwork of restored wooden window frames recovered from restoration or demolition locations all over the European Union.

  The facade stood as a reminder of the EU motto: “united in diversity” as all the windows were distinct.

  The darkness was playing tricks on his eyes. He detached a cord and gently leaped to the level of the so-called 13th floor of the building.

  He used the rain to dampen any noise and carefully hide from the motion cameras, which were a part of one of the most sophisticated security systems in the world.

  The sensors on the outside of the building were blinded and not designed to cope with such a massive amount of rain.

  Supporting himself on the building’s glass exoskeleton, he took out his weapon.

  I hope the glass structure will not move; it should not.

  His prior research stated that Berlaymont was refurbished some decades ago, and the glass structure made it one of the most environmentally friendly buildings in the world.

  The glass structure on which he was standing was protecting the building from the sun by closing the panels and opening them when there was no light.

  Today he was also lucky because as it was such a chilly night, the automatic system should have closed the protective frame.

  However, the surreal darkness overwrote the system and kept the frames open to get any possible outside light.

  The silencer on the gun was specially designed to help penetrate the safest bulletproof glass in the world.

  Each bullet carried a mini radioactive payload coated with artificial diamond powder.

  His target was visible as her office was among the few still illuminated at that late hour.

  He aimed, and Helene fell struck by the silenced bullet, which in a millisecond went through the glass straight to its target.

  She dropped motionless onto the floor, while from the office speaker, Lydia’s desperate voice could still be heard.

  “Helene, Helene, talk to me…what happened? Goddammit, please say something…”

  The Assassin understood that he had just interrupted a conversation. He began to wonder who she was talking to…

  ◆◆◆

  §CHAPTER 8§

  AFTER TRYING several times to reach Helene over the phone, Lydia again felt abandoned in the world.

  Why do I have to endure this fate and all this suffering? First, my parents vanish and now Helene.

  What could have happened to her? I need to go and check on her. Or should I call the police?

  Her body started to shake, being engulfed by memories from her childhood.

  It is like I am dreaming again; wake up Lydia, you have to focus now.

  Helene trusted me; I should not
disappoint her.

  Moving swiftly, she ran across the apartment, a modern design motif that gave a splendid view across Brussels’ skyline where on the near horizon, you could clearly spot several of its main landmarks like the golden dome of the Palais de Justice and the bizarre Atomium structure.

  Her dad’s desk was facing this strange monument symbolizing the carbon atom, erected by the Belgians, to match the French on their Eiffel Tower.

  She looked around, and nothing was displaced; the grey marble desk had only a minimalistic screen, nothing else.

  Behind the desk, her dad placed with pride, all of her diplomas from the University of Washington in Seattle.

  She was one of the world’s leading experts in genetics, specifically in gene editing using CRISPR technology.

  Humanity was just scratching the surface of the true potential of this innovative technology that allowed the use of a protein to cut and replace faulty segments in human DNA.

  Lydia remembered one of the last discussions she had with her dad before his disappearance.

  “Lydia, do you think an ancient civilization could already have possessed this technology? I think it is highly possible,” her dad said excitedly, waving a hand through his dark hair. “This civilization would have already been buried for millions of years beyond our reach. Perhaps under the ocean bedrock or covered by massive lava layers.”

  “Do you hear mom?”

  “Our daughter will find a cure for all the diseases by simply activating our immune system to perpetually regenerate our bodies,” her dad shouted towards the kitchen where her mom was preparing Lydia’s favorite plate, smoked onion soup.

  Lydia was jolted back to reality by the feeling that this entire story was related to why her parents disappeared.

  On the left side of the wall, he also hung her Doctoral diploma in Archeology.

  This was one of her other passions. She could never make up her mind which field she should focus on and oscillated between them from time to time.

  Her dad and mom were both convinced that the Silurian hypothesis was true

  They believed that modern science’s capacity to detect proof of a prior advanced civilization, perhaps several million years ago, was quite limited.

  Humans have existed in current morphology only for the past 300,000 years, with modern technology for only the last few centuries.

  Next to her diplomas, there was a framed schematic of the lost city of Atlantis.

  She was always fascinated by how her parents had as a hobby watching documentaries on how to discover the mysteries of lost civilizations while trying to keep up with their busy schedules working long hours for the European Commission.

  I just need to find the clue Helene was mentioning. Something related to the Fibonacci Sequence.

  She remembered from some of her dad’s books that Fibonacci, an Italian mathematician, calculated each number as the sum of the previous two numbers and discovered an infinite string of numbers.

  It was later used in Renaissance paintings, and modern architecture. Based on its natural occurrence in the universe, it can also take the shape of galaxies and the structure of flowers.

  Looking around the room, her childhood memories started to overwhelm her…the fragrance of her dad still lingered.

  The entire room had a deep sadness without the jovial and charismatic presence of her dad.

  She gazed down, and her eyes glittered with hope.

  The object she was seeking lay on the coffee table made of a white asymmetric marble mosaic that imitated the white sea waves. It was her dad’s black fossilized ammonite shell, another natural occurrence of the Fibonacci sequence.

  The perfectly polished ammonite reflected the moon’s light, an invisible bond between this world and the heavenly one.

  It was difficult to believe that 160 million years ago, this creature graciously swam the oceans of the Jurassic world and suddenly became extinct along with the dinosaurs.

  I remember dad; all the stories you were telling me about the previous races.

  I could only imagine what this ammonite might have thought all those eons ago.

  She grabbed the ammonite and tried to look for an inscription, checking it on all sides. There was nothing.

  Is there something else I’m missing?

  Why the Fibonacci reference? What if I try to rotate it in the sequence’s direction?

  She started to rotate it gently, and the ammonite separated into two parts.

  Inside it revealed an empty inner space out of which a silver metallic card fell on the floor.

  When lifting it, she noticed the metallic card displayed an intricate pattern, and underneath it the following marking:

  13/001

  While flipping it over in her hand, she noticed that on its back, a long sentence was engraved.

  Tears flooded her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, as she understood that her dad left this clue for her, much like he used to do when they were playing their favorite game together: “find the mystery gift by tracing the clues” or “The Escape” board game.

  §CHAPTER 9§

  LYDIA STARTED to quickly read the engraving on the backside:

  “The seed of life is planted underneath the number of the infinite. Make it vanish from the height of the cruciform, and it will reveal the way to the underground path.”

  She was wondering what the number of the infinite was.

  I think I have discussed this with my mom once.

  Lydia, you have to remember it quickly.

  Her mom was well versed in symbology and an avid reader of religious history and mysticism.

  And then she remembered…

  The number of the infinite is eight. When you rotate it 90 degrees, it becomes ∞, the symbol of infinity.

  That was too easy…now 13/001, this was more difficult.

  It does not make sense. If you divide 13 by 0.01, you will obtain 13.000; what is this?

  Carefully looking at the metallic card, she realized that in its middle, there was a whitish plastic frame.

  What if this is an access card?

  She realized that inside the two metallic sides, there must be a magnetic card.

  A magnetic card to open what…?

  To the cruciform, maybe?

  And it struck her: It’s not a number but an office address, like her parents’ office.

  The cruciform was Berlaymont; 13/001 was the office on the 13th floor.

  It belonged to Helene de Moncler. Her office was the first one.

  Her memory was flooded with images of when she first visited her dad’s office. He gave her a tour of the building and told her:

  “Here is the office of the President of the European Commission, one of the most prominent people in the world; one day, it might be yours.”

  “Silly daddy, I’ll be an archaeologist exploring distant worlds, searching for alien civilizations. I’ll not be bored to death sitting in an office.”

  Her dad gave her an unsatisfied smirk.

  “This is not any office; it is the place where you coordinate the center of power of the European Union.”

  “You’ll have a say on what the European Union’s future space policy will be, and the world will follow.”

  “Why risk your life when you can explore the solar system and the galaxy from the safety of your desk?”

  Her dad just wanted to protect her; she was their only child, the apple of his eye. He would have done anything to keep her safe.

  She did not want to disappoint him, so she gave him the answer he was hoping for:

  “We’ll see dad; I’m sure I’ll make you very proud one day” …

  A mighty thunder nudged her back from the past…

  I have to go to Berlaymont and check on her.

  How will I do that?

  I do not think the guardians will simply let me in.

  She knew the heightened level of security in the building but also realized this must be a master card, which could u
nlock any door in the building.

  After pondering for a few moments, she started putting together a plan to enter one of the most secured places on the planet, maybe after the White House or the Pentagon.

  I have to be extra careful and not be detected.

  I think I can manage that, for Helene and my mom and dad; my dear lost parents.

  §CHAPTER 10§

  11H25, October 1st

  Castel Gandolfo, the papal summer residence

  THE POPE felt like he was suffocating. He needed to breathe but his asthma started to aggravate him.

  Was it caused by the stress of the latest news or merely pollution engulfing the streets of Rome (despite the limited traffic and the strict confinement rules)? he wondered, almost bursting into tears when thinking of the current situation.

  His smartwatch had an app installed, which showed the pollution level.

  Vatican City was not spared; he could not summon a protective shield against pollution or to kill the virus. He chuckled at the idea: His Holiness protected, while the population was suffering.

  The technology was not yet there, and he could not hope for any Divine intervention.

  He craved the soothing panorama of the crystal-clear water of Lake Albano, remembering its name was based on its location in the splendid Alban Hills of Lazio.

  His black Tesla car was taking him there, and he felt delighted with the choice he made; the electric car almost soundlessly traversing the winding cobblestone road.

  The ride was so smooth that he was able to relax and admire the Mediterranean vegetation, still green despite it being the beginning of October.

  With the push of a button, he opened the intercom to his driver.

  “Per favore aprire la finestra, ho bisogno di un po 'd'aria fresca.”

  He took out his Ventolin spray and inhaled several puffs to open his bronchi to be able to fully enjoy the freshness of the country air.