Journey Through the Mirrors

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Journey Through the Mirrors Page 35

by T. R. Williams


  “Wrong,” Britney quickly responded. “You can record a song and sell it. I also suppose you could cut your voice box out and sell it.”

  Anita shook her head. “That’s just gruesome. What else do people have that they can’t sell? A house, a car, an animal, a pet, money?”

  “No, no, no, and no,” Britney replied in frustration. “All I know is that we need to get out of here. Our boyfriend is probably wondering where we are. What time is it, anyway? The clock is ticking.”

  Anita spun and looked at her friend with a gleam in her eye. “Ticking,” she said, remembering the clicking of the clock during her vision in the mirror. “Time!”

  “Yeah, what time is it? We have to get out of here.”

  “No, time is the answer to the riddle. Those who have it cannot sell it—time. Those who want it cannot buy it—time. That which shows it cannot hide it—time. And what shows time?” Anita asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Brilliant! A clock,” Britney said. “Isn’t there a clock in here somewhere?”

  “Yes, the oldest one in Europe,” Anita said. “We passed it on the way in.”

  They quickly turned back to the center of the cathedral and made their way down the aisle where they’d entered, stopping in front of the old iron-framed clock. Anita looked at the two large stone weights hanging from the taut ropes that snaked through the pulleys attached to the cathedral’s ceiling high above. The two massive windows on either side of the old timekeeper were being restored, and scaffolding surrounded it.

  Britney inspected the main gears and trains looking for anything that resembled Sumsari’s resonator. “Do you see anything?”

  “Nothing down here,” Anita replied. She tracked the ropes that supported the weights and counterweights of the clock. They stretched above the windows, reaching almost to the cathedral ceiling, where they were attached to a small wooden platform. “I wonder if he hid it up there.” Before Britney could say anything, Anita adjusted her book bag and began climbing the scaffolding. She maneuvered up the rungs quickly until she reached the top, but the scaffolding was not high enough for her to reach the wooden platform. “I need to find something to stand on,” Anita called to Britney. She grabbed an empty bucket that was on the top platform of the scaffolding and turned it upside down.

  “Be careful,” Britney called from below, as she watched Anita step onto the bucket and reach up to the wooden platform. “Do you see anything?”

  “It’s still too high, but I think I can feel something. Maybe even two things.” Anita stood on her toes and stretched her arm further, almost losing her balance as she did so. Britney let out a short gasp. Anita regained her footing, then grabbed the items and placed them in her bag. She carefully stepped off the bucket and made her way down, a smile on her face. She reached into her book bag and pulled out a brass ball and a tuning fork.

  “You found it!” Britney said excitedly. “OK, I have to admit, this treasure-hunting business is pretty fun. Now what?”

  “Let’s see how it works,” Anita said, walking to the center of the cathedral. They stood next to the organ. “Here goes.”

  Anita struck the tuning fork against a stone pillar, holding it near the larger of the two openings on the brass resonator. She passed the tuning fork over the aperture until she found the correct position. As she and Halima had read, an exquisite harmonic filled the entire cathedral. Anita struck the tuning fork again, this time with more force. The resonator’s harmonic seemed to be amplified by the cathedral’s unique design, causing the hundreds of stained-glass windows to shake almost as if at a small tremor in the earth. The two girls listened in awe as the resonance continued. After about forty seconds, it began to dissipate.

  “What are you two doing in here?”

  Anita quickly stuffed the resonator and the tuning fork into her book bag. She turned and saw the young groundskeeper.

  “All the windows were shaking.”

  “Must have been a minor earthquake,” Britney said. “There have been so many of them lately, you know.”

  “We’re finished with our research,” Anita said. “We really appreciate your letting us in.”

  “You have to leave right now,” the young man said. “The dean’s about to show the stonemason where he wants the bluestone sculptures to go.”

  “Did you say bluestone?” Britney asked, her eyes widening.

  “Yes, the city commissioned a few sculptures made from dolerite stone. Some of them will be placed outside on the lawn, and others will go in here.”

  Anita turned to her friend. “I think I know where the Altar of the Bluestones is.”

  52

  It is all right to sit under the shade of a tree and be called lazy.

  —THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

  NOVACON ISLAND, 1:16 P.M. LOCAL TIME, MARCH 26, 2070

  Logan and Valerie used the ladders and catwalks to maneuver their way to a hatchway in the floor. After climbing through it, they found themselves in a small computer room. The ceiling was covered with large bundles of colored wires spread in multiple directions, and there was a single door with a security access panel attached to it. At the room’s center was a cluttered desk with a single chair behind it. An open bag of crackers and a cup of coffee sat among the jumble of electronic parts, computer chips, and a soldering iron. Valerie walked over to the table with her gun drawn. She felt the side of the cup. “It’s still warm. Whoever this belongs to didn’t leave that long ago.”

  “We need to get out of here and find Chetan,” Logan whispered. He tried the handle of the door, but it didn’t open.

  “We can’t without an access card,” Valerie said.

  They heard voices and a few beeps coming from the other side of the door. Valerie grabbed Logan and took a position to its side. The door opened, and a heavyset man entered, carrying a plate of pastries.

  Valerie pressed her gun to the man’s head. “Don’t say a word. And don’t drop the pastries,” she said.

  Logan shut the door behind him. Valerie led the man to the table and pushed him down into the chair. Logan grabbed the plate from the man’s hand and set it next to the cup of coffee.

  Valerie took out her badge and showed it to the man. “Valerie Perrot, WCF,” she said, walking to the other side of the desk to face him. “Where have you taken my agent?”

  “M-madame,” the man stammered in broken, accented English, clearly afraid. “I do not know who you are referring to. I only look after the electrical systems on the island. I am no more than a janitor to my employers.”

  “Who are your employers?” Logan asked.

  “Catherine Bribergeld and Dario Magnor pay the bills around here.”

  “Did you say Dario?” Valerie said, glancing quickly at Logan.

  “Yes,” the man replied. “Dario Magnor. He’s a nice man, always says hello to me. It’s quite inspiring to see him walking around after spending most of his life in a wheelchair.”

  “Wheelchair?” Logan repeated.

  “Yes. I don’t know the whole story, but I heard he was injured during the Great Disruption while trying to save his family.”

  Now Logan and Valerie finally knew who the man in the wheelchair was. The man they had seen with Andrea and Simon in the newspaper clipping, the man Logan’s mother had mentioned in her recordings as a frequent visitor to Fendral during the days of the first Council of Satraya, was Dario Magnor.

  “Where is he now?” Valerie asked.

  “Can’t really say. He and Catherine are probably with the twins.”

  “What twins?” asked Logan.

  “The doctors. They are the ones who designed the ZPF device.”

  Logan and Valerie exchanged looks. Valerie looked at the name plate on the table. “OK, Mr. Pastor,” she said, “where is Catherine now?”

  “She could be anywhere,” Mr. Pastor replied. “Her office, the control center, the Hades Room.”

  “The Hades Room?” Logan repeated ominously.

  “Le
t’s start with her office,” Valerie said, putting her badge away. “Where is it?”

  “The other side of the pyramid. You will have to use the angle-vator cars to get there.”

  “The what?” Valerie asked.

  “When you work inside a mostly hollow pyramid, you cannot get around by traditional means,” Mr. Pastor explained. “The angle-vators are electrostatic cubes that travel in angular directions along the inner shell of the pyramid. You type in the destination point, and it takes you where you want to go. There is an entry bay just outside the door. But you’ll also need one of these to move around here.” He held up his wrist, displaying a gold bracelet. “It’s a security device.”

  “Well, that answers a question,” Logan said, recalling that he had seen a similar bracelet on Catherine Bribergeld at the commemoration and on the man who had kidnapped Sumsari.

  “Stand up,” Valerie said, nudging Mr. Pastor with her gun. “You’re going to be our guide.”

  He reluctantly rose from his chair and led Logan and Valerie out of the electrical room and down a long, narrow hallway that, Logan realized, had no ceiling. Both the inner and outer walls angled up and inward toward the apex. Twenty meters above them, they could see the cars Mr. Pastor was referring to: small square cubes zipping on various tracks, their only sound the slight whipping of air as they moved.

  Valerie stood behind Mr. Pastor with her gun drawn, pressing the barrel into his back. “Now what?”

  Mr. Pastor moved to a set of closed doors in the inner wall and pressed a button on the security panel. A cube paused directly above them and began to descend. When it stopped the doors slid open, and a walkway emerged from the angle-vator, extending to the doorway across from it. The three of them entered. A numerical display was projected, and a computerized female voice came on, requesting a destination code. Mr. Pastor entered the numbers 3-0-1 into the keypad. “Office level three, room zero one,” the female computer voice announced. The cube smoothly began to ascend and picked up speed. Within twenty seconds, after a series of momentum changes, the cube slowed again and started its descent. Valerie readied her gun and waited for the door to open. “You have arrived at your destination,” the female voice announced.

  “Behind us,” Mr. Pastor said. “We’ve traversed the apex and are on the other side of the ZPF.”

  “What are you talking about?” Valerie asked. Before he could answer, the set of doors behind Valerie opened. Surprised, she quickly spun around. To her relief, the doorway was clear. She grabbed Mr. Pastor by the shirt and took him across the newly extended walkway to a door on the other side. “Is that the room?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Mr. Pastor said. As they approached, the doors opened to a spacious office. Valerie entered cautiously, holding Mr. Pastor in front of her. Logan followed. As they walked in, they saw a woman standing near the corner, looking out of an open window at the ocean in the distance.

  Valerie quickly pushed Mr. Pastor into a chair and pointed her gun at the woman. “Don’t move,” she said.

  The woman turned around.

  “Nadine!” Logan called. “What are you doing here?”

  “Thank the stars!” Nadine said. “They kidnapped me. Barged right into our flat in Cairo and abducted me.”

  Valerie’s gun was still on Mr. Pastor, keeping him quiet. Logan noticed that a silver object with a blinking red light had been placed on Nadine’s right temple. “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied, touching it with her hand. “They placed it there when they took me.”

  “What about my father and Madu?” Valerie asked.

  Nadine shook her head. “Madu had already left to pick up your father at the airport when all this happened. I have not spoken to him since he left the flat.”

  Valerie pulled out her PCD and attempted to call her father, but there was no answer. “It doesn’t even ring,” she said.

  “Do you have any idea who brought you here?” Logan asked.

  “Yes,” Nadine said. “After I arrived, they took me to see that blond woman we met briefly at the commemoration. I don’t remember her name.”

  “Catherine Bribergeld? Is she here on the island?”

  “Yes, yes, that’s the woman. I asked her what she wanted, but she wouldn’t say. They locked me in here. Why are they doing this?”

  “We don’t have time to go into it now,” Valerie said. “The agent we arrived with was captured. We have to find him.”

  “Do you remember where you saw Catherine?” Logan asked.

  “It looked like a large conference room,” Nadine said. “The room had a very shiny floor, and the chairs were positioned in a large circle. Strange balls of light were floating in the air, and there was a strange reddish glow under the floor.”

  “That,” Mr. Pastor said, “is the Hades Room.”

  53

  A boy using his gadget was judged by his father who used a typewriter, who was judged by his father who used a pen, who was judged by his father who used a quill, who was judged by his father who painted on walls.

  Change. Your children will be happy you did.

  —THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

  CAIRO, 4:30 P.M. LOCAL TIME, MARCH 26, 2070

  Madu and Mr. Perrot were alone again with Sumsari, who continued to mumble and write the same thing on the walls. “Must find . . . suffering . . . death.”

  “How could Simon have known about this chamber?” Madu asked. “And how could he have known about Sumsari?”

  “We will have to answer those questions at another time,” Mr. Perrot said. “At the moment, we have to figure out the information that will save Nadine from harm.”

  Madu knelt on the ground. “This is the current design of the device that Simon has built.” He drew in the sand with his finger. “Like at Teotihuacán and here at Giza, my plans called for the main pyramidal structure to be aboveground, with a conductive gold capstone placed at its apex. Fifty meters underneath the pyramid is the activation chamber. The chamber is made of lead to isolate the radiation, but it is plated with two centimeters of pure gold.”

  “So the gold in the capstone and in the activation chamber creates the initial current of static electricity that we are experiencing right now.”

  “Yes. The activation chamber is connected to the pyramid by these three hollow ion tubes that extend deep into the pyramid.”

  “Very much like the openings in the ceiling here and in the Moon Pyramid in Mexico,” Mr. Perrot said.

  “I knew that in order for the pyramid to generate copious amounts of electricity, the air within the pyramid had to be intensely ionized. The ions produced from the radiation would intermix with the naturally occurring static electricity and amplify it. I further postulated that placing the device over an intense, massive heat source, using a process called thermal radiation, would boost the amplification even further.”

  “How did you come up with all this?”

  Madu rose to his feet. “Are you familiar with the Ark of the Covenant?”

  “Yes.”

  “There is an obscure old tale that suggests that it was actually a radioactive device housed in a chamber such as this one that powered the pyramid above it. As the story goes, when Moses and his followers left Egypt, they stole the Ark and took it with them. It was for that reason that the pharaoh pursued them at all costs.”

  “Egypt lost its energy source,” Mr. Perrot said.

  “That’s right,” Madu said. “That tale, along with what I saw during my experience with the blue orb, influenced my original plans.” He sighed deeply. “We now know that sound, not radioactivity, was the missing ingredient.”

  “So what exactly have Simon’s associates constructed?” Mr. Perrot asked gravely.

  “Whatever it is,” Madu replied, “to judge from the way it is affecting the world, it is clearly unstable. If NovaCon’s pyramid was built according to my plans, it has the same physical characteristics as the pyramids here and in Mexico. So in theory, it c
ould use sound rather than radiation. If the proper harmonic was introduced within the activation chamber, the pyramid would fully energize.”

  Mr. Perrot bent down and emptied the bag Simon had left. It contained a couple of flashlights, a small pick, a penknife, a rope, a hand shovel, and three small water bottles. He handed one to Madu. “We are back to the same square where we were at Teotihuacán: What is the proper activation harmonic?” As Mr. Perrot drank some water, he walked over to Sumsari and looked more closely at the mathematical equation Sumsari was repeatedly scribbling on the wall. “Have you ever seen this formula before?” Madu came over, and Sumsari rose to his feet, dropping the piece of chalk and walking over to the open bag and the tools lying on the ground next to it. Madu took a sip of water and looked at the equation that Mr. Perrot was referring to.

  “Yes,” Madu said. “This is a famous formula used for the Helmholtz resonance.”

  “What is that?”

  “It describes the phenomenon of air in a cavity. We’ve all seen it in action.” Madu blew over the opening of his water bottle, creating a whistling sound. “The size of the cavity, the volume of air inside it, and other factors dictate the quality and the pitch of the resulting resonance. This formula speaks to that.”

  Mr. Perrot heard a cracking sound. He and Madu saw that Sumsari was standing on top of the platform at the center of the room and had broken one of the Egyptian flutes in half. He was digging the tip of the small penknife into the portion of the flute he was still holding. Madu turned in alarm. “What is he doing? He’s ruining the only clues we have!”

  “No!” Sumsari yelled, as Madu rushed over to try to take the flute from him. He pointed the tip of the knife at Madu threateningly before walking off.

  “He has lost his faculties,” Mr. Perrot said, as he walked over and backed Madu away from Sumsari. “He will not be of much help to us. We must focus on deciphering the Egyptians’ amplification secret. The lives of Nadine and many others depend on it.”

  Mr. Perrot and Madu looked over at the clock that Simon had left. There were forty-two minutes before the top of the hour, at which time Simon was going to activate Nadine’s neuro device. “We don’t have much time,” Mr. Perrot said, picking up the remaining long flute.

 

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