The Cosega Sequence: A Techno Thriller

by Brandt Legg

  “It’s hollow! Larsen, do you believe this? It’s hollow.”

  Before Larsen could move to get a good look, a glassy black inner sphere rolled out of the stone globe, which now appeared to be more of a casing to protect the true prize in Rip’s lap.

  “My God,” Larsen whispered.

  Rip carefully placed the stone casings on the table; they appeared like two matching ancient bowls.

  “This is almost frightening,” he said, blinking disbelievingly at the black inner sphere. As he turned it slowly in his hands, the polished surface reflected the tent’s interior.

  “We’ve got to document it,” Larsen said.

  “If word gets out, media, thieves and souvenir hunters will converge on this place. We need time.”

  “We need to document,” Larsen repeated.

  “Tell me about this photographer?”

  “He’s a friend – a good guy.”

  “I guess he’ll have to do; we’ve got to be practical, especially now. But not the woman.”

  Josh and Gale had been hovering outside the tent.

  “Josh, can you take some shots for us?”

  “You bet.” He smiled and headed for the tent. Gale followed.

  “Sorry, Gale, just Josh.”

  “What’s his problem?” Gale fumed.

  Rip, busy making notes and measuring, looked up when Josh entered. “Good, you found him. All right, what’s your name?”

  “Josh Stadler.” His toothy grin, shaggy bangs and laid-back manner almost put Rip at ease. In work boots, faded jeans and old green tee-shirt, he looked more like a landscaper, only the Nikon DSLR around his neck and a worn camera bag said otherwise.

  “Okay, Josh, do you know how to work that thing?” Rip asked.

  “I might be able to figure it out.” Josh chuckled. At twenty-nine, Josh had already shot in more countries than Rip had dug in. National Geographic recently released his photo book of ancient sites.

  “Good. Shoot this at every angle, get some close-ups of the casing, too.” Rip placed a hand on Josh’s shoulder and looked into his eyes. “But nothing is published without my okay. Do we have a deal?”

  Josh looked at Larsen. He nodded.

  “You got it, Doc,” Josh answered, giving a half laugh. Then he went to work, clicking away, but the lighting was bad and the flash just glared off the shiny surface. “Without my lighting equipment these shots won’t be any good. We need to take it outside.”

  “Okay.” Rip agreed. They grabbed the card table and placed a roll of duct tape on its side as a stand for the inner sphere. Gale and Rip collided.

  “Can we get her out of here?” Rip barked at Larsen.

  Gale took in the scene. “Did that come out of that?” Gale asked, pointing.

  Rip ignored her.

  “The sun is a little intense. Maybe if I stand on a chair I can avoid some of the shadows,” Josh said. Larsen grabbed a small crate that might be able to support his weight.

  Suddenly lights glowed from within the inner sphere. Everyone jumped back.

  Chapter 4

  “It’s glowing! What is this thing?” Larsen eyed the inner sphere as if it might attack him at any moment.

  Rip didn’t want to touch it, but several students were heading toward them, so he snatched it up and pushed back into the tent. The lights vanished.

  “I don’t believe what I just saw,” Larsen said.

  “Did you get it?” Rip asked Josh.

  “First rule of photography, when something happens, keep shooting.” Josh smiled and showed Rip several shots in the camera’s preview window. “I really like this one, how the blue and green lights seem to –”

  “I don’t care what you like,” Rip said. “Larsen, send those students back to the cliff. There might be more still buried.”

  “Those lights kind of blow your theory, huh, Doc?” Josh said.

  Rip looked at him incredulously. The Cosega Theory now appeared to be a fact. He might have been too conservative, his radical theory not extreme enough; nonetheless, the understanding on which all of history and society itself were based now lay shattered among the dirt and pine needles on a forest floor. Intelligent humans had been here much longer than previously thought – unimaginably longer.

  “We have to get this out of here. It needs to be studied under lab conditions, without the media and all these students,” Rip said as Larsen returned.

  “Hey, I hate to burst your bubble, but we’re on federal land. We can’t just take these artifacts. The government is going to grab these up,” Larsen said.

  “They don’t have to know yet.” Rip motioned to the inner-sphere and stone casings of the split globe. “These are so far out of the scope of this dig. We just don’t tell them.”

  “We can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “You can’t risk losing the context of what may possibly be the most important find in history.”

  “It’s exactly because this is the most important find in history that I can.”

  “They need to be dated. They are primary context finds; within the archaeological matrix it’s impossible. If the limestone formed around the globe casings, the carvings would be filled. It’s more like the cliff was used as a vault. I just can’t explain the absence of any seams.”

  “None of that matters right now. I’m one of the top three archaeologists in the world; I’ve got a freakin’ National Geographic team recording every detail, and there are nineteen trained witnesses out there. Showing the context within the archaeological matrix isn’t going to be an issue; rewriting the history books is all anyone is going to need to worry about.”

  “What about Gale and Josh and all the others who have seen it? How do you propose to keep them quiet?”

  “He won’t,” Gale snapped, barging into the tent.

  “Damn it, the government will screw this up. They’ll destroy something that they have no idea about. This is beyond governments – ”

  Larsen cut him off, “What are you going to do if word does leak out, ’cause it will?”

  “I’ll drive off that bridge when I get to it.”

  “You may not care about risking your career, but I do.”

  “Are you kidding? Look at this thing. This is going to make your career. It’s going to make you famous, whether we like it or not.”

  “I’m going to publish this story, Professor Gaines,” Gale said. “And it’ll read better if you steal artifacts from the government and try to suppress a historic find. So I say do it.”

  “Why the hell are you here?” Rip shook his head. “They never should have been here, Larsen. That was a cataclysmic mistake.”

  “I didn’t know what we were going to find. Josh, Gale. We just need time,” Larsen pleaded.

  “Time? Why not just announce the find? You’re tops in your field. You can study it all you want,” Gale said, half-mimicking him.

  “There’s more to it.” Rip stopped himself. “I can’t believe I’m explaining myself to a reporter and a photographer.”

  “Unprecedented events call for unprecedented actions,” Gale said. “How old is this thing, really? What were those lights?”

  “That’s what I’m saying. I need time to find out,” Rip said, frustrated.

  “And you didn’t answer. Why not go the proper route?” she persisted.

  “This is too important to trust with politicians and bureaucrats. Look, I’m not some teenager who found a lost wallet. I could spend the rest of my life working on this single discovery. This will have more impact on the world than Sumer, Gutenberg, the Renaissance, all the wars and religions combined.”

  “Come on,” Josh said, laughing.

  “I assure you; I am not prone to exaggeration.”

  “You give me a complete exclusive, and I’ll hold the story for a week.” The urgency in Rip’s voice and his willingness to risk his career won her agreement.

  “Thirty days,” Rip countered.

  “Two weeks,” Gale said. />
  Josh didn’t have an issue with covering it up. He’d been arrested protesting the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq and would do anything to deny the Republicans something.

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I still think it’s wiser to do this through formal channels,” Larsen said.

  “All I’m asking for is a little time. The federal government is big and clumsy – ” Rip began.

  “And corruption is rampant,” Gale added.

  “You know how many routine digs they’ve screwed up?” Rip continued. “And ‘lost’ artifacts; do you want a list?”

  “It’s a federal offense,” Larsen said quietly.

  “We’re not going to keep it.”

  “You don’t even know what it is,” Larsen said.

  “I know what it isn’t,” Rip said. “It isn’t something that belongs in that cliff. It isn’t something from that time! And it sure as hell isn’t anything the government knows how to handle.”

  Larsen stared at him.

  “Larsen, it lit up,” Rip whispered. “You know what they do with stuff like this. It will vanish into the netherworld of the intelligence community’s research realm. They’ll deny we found anything.”

  “Do you think this is like Roswell?” Josh asked. “Because this thing could be something like that.”

  “Do you know what really happened there?” Rip snapped impatiently.

  “I know that there are hundreds of trillions of stars out there. And to think that only a single little planet orbiting one of those stars can support intelligent life is a silly notion,” Josh said.

  “That doesn’t mean the US government has been covering up proof of visitors from another planet for nearly seventy years,” Rip said.

  “It doesn’t mean they aren’t,” Gale said.

  “You think this is from another planet?” Larsen asked skeptically.

  “No,” Rip answered. “But that would make it much easier to explain. And it’s exactly because I think it’s from this planet that it’s so extraordinary. And for that reason it can’t be allowed to fall into the hands of the government until we understand it and figure out its origins.”

  “It does appear to predate the formation of America by millions of years, so maybe the jurisdiction and ownership issues are a bit fuzzy,” Larsen said half-heartedly.

  “It predates the origins of homo sapiens by millions of years,” Rip said. “So you’re in? We all agree the government doesn’t have to know what we found here?”

  “I’m in,” Gale said.

  “Yep.” Josh nodded.

  They all looked to Larsen.

  “I guess so,” he said.

  Chapter 5

  The nineteen people involved with the excavation were standing around speculating about the stone globe while the four assigned to that area continued the dig. Larsen tried to downplay the find and explained to the students that the artifacts were being sent out for dating. They hoped this would buy them time without raising suspicion. Fortunately, none had seen the inner sphere or glowing lights.

  Meanwhile, Rip planned to take the artifacts to a lab in Maryland where people he trusted could help unravel the mystery. Josh took more photos of the cliff; it was solid limestone, except where the Odeon and the globe had been. More than a hundred test holes had been drilled that yielded nothing unusual.

  “Could the cliff have simply formed around the artifacts?” Josh asked.

  “Maybe your little green men from Roswell put them there,” Rip answered sarcastically.

  “Good one, Doc.” Josh laughed.

  “It’s a fair question, Professor,” Gale said.

  “It’s nothing but questions,” Rip shot back. “We have to have the casings tested to verify actual age. I’m not interested in theorizing until we know how old it is.”

  “I thought you were all about theories, or should I say the Cosega Theory.” Gale stared at Rip as a cat does a cornered mouse.

  “This is beyond that,” he said, glaring.

  “Sure, but doesn’t it prove your crazy theory?”

  “Nothing is proven, until it is proven.”

  “Profound, Professor.” Gale laughed.

  The heat of the day still lingered as darkness encroached on the camp. Earlier, Larsen had a tent cleared for Rip. Ever since, he’d been reviewing the images and making notes on his laptop. The smoke of burning hickory and pine flavored the air as the dinner fires began to diminish.

  “Can you spare a moment, Professor?” He recognized Gale’s voice. He didn’t really dislike her; he disliked her presence and the complications she and Josh added to the equation. Now that she had agreed to keep a lid on the story, he was trying to be friendlier.

  “Come in.” He minimized the screens so his computer only revealed a wallpaper of Machu Picchu.

  She sat in a canvas chair across from him. “I haven’t changed my mind about holding the story, but I can’t believe you don’t know what we discovered today.”

  He wanted to respond sarcastically, noting she wasn’t part of the “we” that discovered anything. Instead, her eyes softened him. “I don’t actually know.”

  “Off the record.” She moved her chair closer and whispered. “You’ve been looking for something to prove Cosega . . . this is it, right?”

  Rip wanted her to leave but needed her cooperation. “I am not looking for the Holy Grail or another tomb of Tutankhamen. It’s true I have theories that need to be transformed into facts, and the only way to do that is to unearth evidence, but it’s more a quest than a single strike.”

  “Come on, Professor, I saw your face when that ball lit up.”

  “Anytime the past lifts the veil and gives us something, it’s an exciting moment.”

  She smiled, “This is more than that. Professor, just tell me.”

  He looked past her, searching his thoughts for an answer. “I can’t.”

  “My years covering Wall Street taught me how to tell when someone is concealing something. You know more than you’re saying.”

  “I wouldn’t be telling you anything if you weren’t here.”

  “But I am here.”

  “Look, why don’t you just leave this story alone. I already promised you an exclusive.”

  “You want my silence; you’re asking me to trust you.”

  He looked away. Neither spoke for a minute.

  “Let me tell you a story,” he said. “About twenty years ago there was a discovery of ancient pottery in South America that was an exact match to Egyptian pottery of the same period.” He scowled. “A prominent magazine published the finding and within days of the issue hitting the stands, the site was completely looted and several archaeologists were murdered.” His voice rose. “It was a vital clue in our search for the past. That made Tutankhamen seem trivial, yet it’s gone and good men died. We’ll never know how much we lost from the artifacts and the men.” He stood. “Don’t you see? Without understanding the truth of human history, we are adopted, wandering and lost. Trust me, Gale.”

  “Okay,” she said, “But trust is a two-way street. There is a reason I’m here. Let me find out why.”

  Falling asleep later that night, Rip thought about the inner sphere and decided to call it “Eysen,” an ancient word meaning, “to hold all the stars in your hand.” At the same time, a far less important, yet nagging question distracted him. “Why the hell was Gale Asher here?”

  Chapter 6

  Tuesday July 11th

  The Special Agent studied his notes again, it didn’t make sense. He’d actually heard of Ripley Gaines. He’d read an article in Newsweek or somewhere once, some sort of modern-day, real-life Indiana Jones. But as required, he called a superior at the Bureau and, through a series of decisions up the chain of command, it landed on the Director’s desk within an hour. The circumstances were strange enough to stand out; that’s what always got the FBI’s attention – things out of the norm. A renowned archaeologist concealing a major find on federal lands seemed ver
y odd.

  Larsen put down the sandwich he’d been eating and found his ringing satphone. He listened carefully, became increasingly alarmed, and ran to Rip’s tent.

  “We’re in trouble,” he said, bursting in on Rip, who had just returned from a final look at the cliff and was preparing to leave. “One of the grad students left the camp an hour ago. He’s got a girlfriend at the University of Virginia. As soon as he hit the main road, he stopped to fill up with gas. The feds were there.”

  “What feds?” Rip asked, confused.

  “An SUV packed with FBI agents pulled up and met a Forest Service vehicle. He heard a man in a suit talking to the ranger about an archaeological site. He didn’t get all of the discussion but he said they’re definitely headed for the camp.”

  “That’s crazy. How would they know?”

  “I know that gas station; they’ll be here in less than forty-five minutes.”

  “How the hell do they know?” Rip repeated.

  “One of the students must have told someone,” Larsen said.

  “But how? Who?” There’s no cell coverage here. You and I are the only ones with satphones. Did anyone else leave?”

  “No way. But what does it matter? We haven’t done anything wrong. We’ll just report the find. It’s not a big deal.”

  He looked at Larsen with disdain. “Are you kidding? Nothing has changed.” Rip wrapped the Odeon and the Eysen in flannel shirts from his luggage and then carefully placed them into his backpack along with the top of the casing.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m sure as hell not sticking around here.”

  “There’s no way out. One road in and they’re on it. Come, on Rip, don’t be crazy. It’ll all work out. We’re about to be famous. Well, you’re already famous, but this is going to be Oprah-famous, People Magazine, 60 Minutes; they may even make us Time Magazine people of the year.”

  “Larsen, don’t you see? The fact that they’re sending agents up here, less than twenty-four hours after we pulled the globe out of the ground, shows this is too important to hand over.”