by JC Ryan
The Tenth Cycle
A Thriller
A Rossler Foundation Mystery
By JC Ryan
This is the first book in the Rossler Foundation Mystery Series. Want to hear about special offers and new releases?
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Copyright ©2014 JC Ryan
All Rights Reserved.
Copyright 2014 by J C Ryan
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All rights reserved.
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MYSTERIES FROM THE ANCIENTS
10 THOUGHT PROVOKING UNSOLVED ARCHAEOLOGICAL MYSTERIES
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We spend a lot of time researching and documenting our past, yet there are still many questions left unanswered. Our ancestors left a lot of traces for us, and it seems that not all of them were ever meant to be understood. Despite our best efforts, they remain mysteries to this day.
Inside you will find some of the most fascinating and thought-provoking facts about archaeological discoveries which still have no clear explanation.
Read all about The Great Pyramid at Giza, The Piri Reis Map, Doomsday, Giant Geoglyphs, The Great Flood, Ancient Science and Mathematics, Human Flight, Pyramids, Fertility Stones and the Tower of Babel, Mysterious Tunnels and The Mystery of The Anasazi
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Table Of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1 - Near Kabul, Afghanistan, July 2009
Chapter 2 - Newsroom Of The NY Times, Mid-April 2013
Chapter 3 - Wurzburg, Germany, mid-April, 2013
Chapter 4 – The Babysitter
Chapter 5 - Mathematics Is A Language
Chapter 6 –The Italian Job
Chapter 7 - Message In A Bottle
Chapter 8 – Satellite Videoconference Wurzburg, Germany
Chapter 9 - A Passionate First Move
Chapter 10 – The Consequences
Chapter 11 – A Message In The Blocks
Chapter 12 – A Lovely Declaration
Chapter 13 – Fibonacci Speaks
Chapter 14 – Double Crossed
Chapter 15 – The Keyboard
Chapter 16 – A Serving Of Alphabet Soup
Chapter 17 – The Great Pyramid Speaks
Chapter 18 – Just Because You Are Not Paranoid
Chapter 19 – You Must Get Out of Town
Chapter 20 – We Have Been Watching You
Chapter 21 – The Langley Connection
Chapter 22 – The Linguist
Chapter 23 – You Are In Danger
Chapter 25 - 8 Sides To It
Chapter 26 – The Irish Connection
Chapter 27 – We Can’t Hear You
Chapter 28 - Don’t Upset The Marines
Chapter 29 – Just Following Protocol
Chapter 30 – Full Steam Ahead
Chapter 31 – Get That Information Now
Chapter 32 – She Is A Killer
Chapter 33 – The Hostage
Chapter 34 – Held For Ransom
Chapter 35 – I Can’t Remember You
Chapter 36 – We’ve Got It
Chapter 37 – This Must End Now
Chapter 38 – Yes, Yes, Yes
Chapter 39 – It Goes In Cycles
Chapter 40 – We Need Your Help
Chapter 41 – The Great Pyramid Speaks Again
Chapter 42 – How To Trap A Mole
Chapter 43 – An Honorable Discharge
Chapter 44 – To The Safe House
Chapter 45 – The Great Pyramid Reveals
Chapter 46 – Daddy Would Have Been Proud of Me
Chapter 47 – Let’s Show You What We Have
Chapter 48 – You Have Been Cleared
Chapter 49 – Welcome To Israel
Chapter 50 – Let’s Go For A Swim
Chapter 52 – One Battle In The War
Chapter 53 – The Rossler Foundation
Chapter 54 – Breaking The News
Chapter 55 – Absolutely Not Mr. President
Prologue
10th Cycle year 25,990 A city near the present site of Giza, Egypt
The Supreme Council of Knowledge had been in session for more than two hours and the mood between the twenty-one elders was somber, although what they heard excited some.
Aleph, first among the members, listened attentively as Zebulon, their youngest, made his request. The nineteen Chosen who ranked between the two listened in various mental states, some supporting, others dismayed. Zebulon, a genius and excellent orator, was making a compelling argument, succeeding in convincing the elders that he had a worthy cause.
Concluding, he said. “We have made our world a better place since we received it nearly 26,000 years ago. Why should we not pass the benefit of our knowledge on to Those Who Come After? Our world will end soon, in about ten years if my calculations are correct. We have nothing more to prove or achieve, our time has come and gone. Let us be gracious about it. A new civilization will be built on the ruins of ours. Why should we not give them the best chance to build it even better than ours? A chance to break the cycle of destruction? They are our children and descendants. We owe it to them. I beg you to consider wisely.” Zebulon bowed and sat down.
All eyes were on Aleph as he made his answer. “Why would we undertake this task? It has ever been so, God has decreed it. Civilizations are born, they live and grow and they are destroyed. This is the tenth Cycle. Those Who Come After in the eleventh must once again learn wisdom in their own Cycle and in their own way. You defy the natural order!”
“With respect, Aleph, show me in the holy writings where God has decreed we may not reveal our knowledge to Those Who Come After.” A gasp went up as nineteen pairs of eyes flew to Aleph expecting to see his rage. Instead, they saw him in deep thought.
He looked at Zebulon. “Very well, you have spoken well, and have convinced me. If the rest of the members agree, you may gather the information and build your Library of Knowledge of the Tenth Cycle.” The nineteen members nodded their heads in agreement.
Aleph looked around, confirming he had the support of everyone, and continued. “The Council will bear the expense of what you described to us. But there is one very important condition. You must devise and encode the message in such a way that it is time-locked to Those Who Come After. They will first have to achieve a high measure of intelligence and civil behavior before they can read it. Only when they have advanced to the point where they can read and understand the message will they be ready to make use of the information you will leave for them to improve their world. If you fail to do so, it might cause them much more harm than the good you intend for them.”
The other nineteen members nodded their heads in agreement again.
“Thank you, Aleph and learned elders. I will follow your wise counsel with great care and precision.”
Zebulon bowed in affirmation and turned to leave the conference chamber. There was no time to waste. According to his calculations, the Cycle would end in less than
ten years. Despite the engineering capabilities of a 26,000-year-old civilization, it would take at least eight years to build the massive structure he planned, a pyramid, shaped and constructed to withstand any natural disaster he could imagine. Within its measurements and placement would be a sign for those who could see it, that a great accumulation of facts, history and scientific discovery was contained within. In turn, the key to unlock the treasure-trove would be encoded, requiring both intelligence and persistence to locate and read it. In this way, he would cleverly time-lock the knowledge and wisdom of the Tenth Cycle of humanity.
Chapter 1 - Near Kabul, Afghanistan, July 2009
Daniel Rossler and two of his friends from ISAF headquarters in Kabul, Afghanistan set out early in the morning on Daniel’s birthday, July 8th, on the A1 toward Jalalabad some one-hundred and fifty klicks and three hours or so to the east. IEDs, or Improvised Explosive Devices had made this stretch of road one of the most dangerous places in the world.
Daniel, an irrepressible 26-year-old journalist embedded with the Marine unit, matched his comrades’ skill for skill except in armed combat. As a journalist, he was neither expected nor permitted to carry a weapon, though his upbringing in the North Carolina Mountains had included skill with a hunting rifle. Now, his preferred physical activities were hiking, swimming, and the occasional impromptu wrestling match with the two friends in the Jeep with him today or other opponents from their unit. At six-foot-three, his wiry frame was perhaps a little lighter than most of his heavily-muscled Marine opponents, but his quick thinking and unconventional moves allowed him to win more often than he lost.
“Hey, Sarge,” Rossler yelled over the noise of the vehicle on the highway. “Isn’t this the road that the Taliban keeps bombing?”
“You afraid of a little rebel IED, Rossler?” the sergeant retorted.
That effectively shut down any further discussion on the matter. The one thing Daniel couldn’t allow was his Marine friends thinking he was a wuss. Traffic was unusually light this morning, which should have warned the three friends, especially the Marines. Instead, they were elated to be making such good time during the early hours before the heat of the day set in.
Seeing the well-populated area on both sides of the road for the first fifty klicks, Daniel wondered at the logic of the Taliban rebels who harassed travelers along this road without regard to loyalty. Anyone could be killed by an IED, even Afghan citizens making their way to market, or children.
He was aware of the joint task force squads that had been specially trained to sweep for and dispose of the deadly items, though. Daniel felt as safe on this trip as he did anywhere in Afghanistan, which was to say, not very. Nevertheless, today’s mission would provide good background for his next column. It was important work, and Daniel was good at it.
Daniel didn’t realize he had stopped watching the road ahead until he heard Sgt. Ellis shout, “Look out!” He found himself in mid-flight as the Jeep swerved violently, and then overturned beside the road, pinning Ellis and the driver, Sgt. Pierce, and throwing Daniel clear. He was trying to sort himself out to stand when shots rang out from further up the road.
“Shit!” Daniel cried, hunkering down into a rapid belly crawl toward the Jeep where his friends lay injured a couple of yards away. With bullets kicking up the sandy dirt all around him, Daniel reached the relative safety of the Jeep more in rage than in fear. Finding Pierce conscious but injured, he said, “What the hell?”
“IED,” Pierce answered, wincing in pain. “Didn’t see it until Ellis hollered, had to swerve to miss it.”
“Who’s shooting at us?” Daniel asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. The Taliban maybe?” Even in pain, Pierce was acerbic, causing Daniel to wish he hadn’t asked such a stupid question.
“How are you doing? What hurts?” he asked.
Pierce said, “Think my arm is broken, maybe leg too. Mostly I’d like to get this hunk of metal off me.”
Daniel surveyed the way the vehicle had come to rest on Pierce’s leg, noticing that a fortuitously-placed rock had kept the vehicle from resting heavily on the leg, though it would still need a couple more inches to clear the leg and foot. Sgt. Ellis was unconscious, his head resting on a larger but flatter rock, and both legs pinned by the frame of the windshield. One looked bad, like the frame had acted as a cleaver. Daniel couldn’t tell if the lower part was still attached to Ellis’ body.
“Where’s your weapon, Pierce?” Daniel asked anxiously. While he and the two Marines were relatively sheltered by the bulk of the vehicle, sporadic automatic weapons fire told him the rebels were still out there, and would probably come looking for anything they could pick up unless they knew someone would shoot back.
“Racked between the seats,” Pierce ground out between clenched teeth.
“Hold on. I’m going to try to get you and Ellis out from under this thing, and then I’ll grab the weapons.”
Daniel quickly surveyed what they had in the Jeep that could be used as a lever, or at least a prop, without finding much that he thought would be useful. They did have a large metal lockbox, which Daniel found a few feet from the rear of the vehicle. Retrieving it, he shoved the box under the center of the vehicle to prevent it shifting further - he hoped. Bullets were flying overhead and hitting the Jeep sporadically. If the Jeep crushed the box, they’d be in worse shape than before. Then, with no other choice, he asked Pierce if he would be able to scoot out from under the vehicle on his own, if Daniel could lift it a few inches.
“I’ll try,” Pierce answered.
Daniel wormed his way into the gap, shoving his head and shoulders under the frame and pushing until his body was lifting one side of the Jeep, while dragging the box in with him to solidify his gains. He had managed to lift the vehicle only a couple of inches when Pierce said, “I’m loose.”
Leaving the box in place, Daniel backed out, hoping to find that he’d also made enough progress that he could drag Ellis out. When he went to look, he paled at the damage he could now see. Though he swiftly used his belt as a tourniquet, it appeared Ellis could be in trouble if help didn’t arrive soon. However, there was nothing else he could do but pull him out from under the vehicle before it shifted again and finished the job of severing Ellis’s leg. With little more to be gained in lifting the Jeep higher, Daniel stood, then half-crouched to get purchase on the injured man, pulling him to safety as bullets flew by his now-exposed head.
Both of his friends now released but too injured to help, Daniel retrieved their Colt SMGs and fired a few shots back in the general direction of the gunfire just to let the bastards know there would be hell to pay if they dared to come closer. He could only hope that a friendly military patrol would come along before he exhausted his ammunition. With that in mind, he quickly reconnoitered to see if he could determine the exact location where the shots were coming from. About three hundred yards away he could see a structure, and nothing in between. Well within their effective range, but to his advantage was that if they were to attack him and his friends they would have to approach over open terrain with no protection. He would have the cover of the Jeep and would be able to pick them off one by one. He fired a few shots toward the building to scare them and let them know that he knew where they were. He would wait until they approached before firing more shots, and just hope there weren’t too many of them coming at the same time. With adrenaline pumping through his system, he waited.
Half an hour passed, during which time he’d been forced to fire a short burst to keep two insurgents off them. Then, a rumble that signaled a vehicle approaching from the direction of Kabul caught his attention. It was followed shortly by automatic weapons fire and the gun fire from the building going quiet very quickly.
The sound of American voices, yelling out “Yo, jarheads, you all right?” brought him up from his post.
“Got two wounded here. Who are you guys?”
“Task Force Paladin. Looks like you started to do our job for us out h
ere. Who the hell are you?”
Daniel didn’t take offense. He wasn’t in uniform after all. He stood to his full height and walked toward the Army squad to explain what had happened.
Chapter 2 - Newsroom Of The NY Times, Mid-April 2013
Thunderous applause greeted the last of the four announcements of Pulitzer prizes awarded to the Gray Lady’s reporting for last year. So-named because of the tradition of having a higher-than average ratio of verbiage to images, the venerable paper almost always pulled in several Pulitzers per year, and this year was no exception with four won. It wasn’t the highest number of the coveted prizes the Times had won, missing the record seven of 2002 by nearly half. Still, it was cause for celebration.
Daniel Rossler applauded along with the rest of the crowd, who thronged the newsroom floor and lined the glass safety barrier of the upper floor. As a science feature reporter specializing in archaeology, he probably couldn’t expect a Pulitzer, not unless he broke a story that somehow changed human knowledge. Chuckling and shaking his head, Daniel told himself he had probably missed the boat when his previous assignment ended.
His physique still showed the rigorous training that he had received in tandem with the Marine battalion with which he was embedded in the Middle East. At times, Daniel missed the adventure and the adrenaline rush of battle, though he shouldn’t have been a part of it. His willingness to put himself in the line of fire, though, had paid off when both Marines whom he’d helped that day near Kabul survived their injuries. For that, he had received a letter of commendation from the battalion commander when he left the assignment.
Rossler was a modest man, though he appreciated praise as much as anyone. He had been embarrassed when his friend Owen had found the reference online and read the letter aloud to the newsroom. ‘Mature, brave and composed in the face of difficult and life threatening conditions...’ and ‘...would have been proud to have commanded him as a Marine...’ High praise for an outfit that prided itself on being better than all others. But the truth was, aside from that occasional nostalgia for adventure, Daniel was happy that the only loud noises he usually heard around here were cars backfiring on cold days in the city and the crash of a vehicle collision now and then.
