The Belial Sacrifice

by R. D. Brady

  Chapter 39

  Washington, D.C.

  The President stared out the Oval Office window. There were fewer crowds walking by the fence these days. Fewer people even stepping outside their homes. Businesses were reporting huge absenteeism for workers. Shops were closing early due to lack of customers. Restaurants were going belly up. Even without doing a thing, China had disrupted the U.S. economy.

  No, not China. Elisabeta. She hadn’t been able to take down the United States personally. But it looked as if her parting gift was going to finish the job just as effectively as if she had still been alive.

  I cannot let that happen. And there was only one way she could think of to possibly prevent it. And even then it was an extremely long shot. But right now, she did not have anything but a long shot.

  A knock sounded at the door behind her. She called out without turning. “Come in.”

  Bruce Heller stepped through, his reflection clear in the glass. She turned. “Bruce, thanks for coming in.”

  He nodded. “I am at your service, Madame President.”

  She studied her king of spooks. The CIA director was a political appointee and an astute political animal. But Heller, he was a different type of animal. One that thrived in the shadows. He always seemed to be a few plays ahead of her. Surprise was not an emotion she had ever seen flash across his face, but perhaps today she would witness it. “You have, of course, heard the latest reports?”

  Bruce nodded. “A large increase in reports of enhanced incidents. Japan, South Africa, Russia, Germany, and about a dozen other countries, all with ties to criminal networks.”

  “It seems you were right about Sergei selling the formula.”

  “I wish I hadn’t been.”

  “I do as well. But as we live in the real world, wishes do not help either of us.”

  “No, they don’t.”

  “What have you learned about Delaney McPhearson’s whereabouts?”

  “I just received a report that she was seen in Rome, at the home of Cardinal John Moretti.”

  The President’s mouth fell open as she pictured the cardinal she had met with months ago. “She was at Moretti’s? Why?”

  “According to the Vatican, she threatened the cardinal’s life.”

  “Why?”

  “They said she wasn’t happy with the statements they were putting out about her.”

  The President frowned. “That’s ludicrous. Everyone is putting out statements about her. Why would she take exception to the Vatican’s?”

  “I do not believe that is the reason she was there. I believe she was actually looking for something.”

  “What?”

  “A book.”

  The President frowned. “Why would she care about a book?”

  “I’m not sure exactly. But from what I can tell of her, I would assume it is to help someone or perhaps a lot of someones.”

  “Do you have any idea what book it was?”

  “I believe it was the Tome of the Great Mother.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Few have.” Bruce explained about the Great Mother, how she had been the first wife of Adam and a source of good in the world. How she had chosen mortality for the human race as a way to save them. How she was then reborn every lifetime and the Tome was a recording of all her lives.

  Silence fell heavily when Bruce finished his explanation. The President stared at him, wondering if, for the first time since she’d known him, he was joking. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am. Very.”

  “That’s . . . that’s crazy.”

  “As crazy as a woman who can control the weather or communicate with animals? Or individuals who run at the speed of a superhero? Or heal in minutes from what would be a mortal wound to a normal human?”

  The President shook her head. “These are strange times we are living in.”

  “I believe that is an extreme understatement.”

  “I believe you are correct.” She smiled, and Bruce returned the smile. “All right. Well, the reason I brought you in is that I have an idea of how we might help protect the United States. Although ‘idea’ may be overselling it.”

  “All right. What do you need?”

  “I need to speak with Delaney McPhearson.”

  And the President had been correct about one thing: Today was the first day she saw surprise flash across his face.

  Chapter 40

  Havenville

  Drake left Laney at the beginning of the path to Cain’s cottage. Her uncle had the door open before Laney even reached it. He put a hand to his lips and closed the door softly behind him.

  Laney lowered her voice. “What’s going on?”

  “Cain is heading to grab a shower. I’m afraid if he hears you, he will head right back out to speak with you.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  Patrick sighed. “He’s struggling. He hasn’t read that language in eons. It’s not coming back to him as quickly as he would like. And he’s getting extremely annoyed with himself.”

  Laney couldn’t even imagine the difficulty of the task ahead of him. There were approximately 6,500 languages spoken in the world today. Experts believed that one language died out every fourteen days, which meant that the number of languages Cain had probably been exposed to was exponentially higher. Those same experts put the number of languages that had existed between 64,000 and 140,000. Trying to wade through all of that to recall an ancient language was a mind-numbingly difficult undertaking.

  And it wasn’t just any ancient language he was trying to understand. He was trying to translate the first language. Something he had not seen in tens of thousands of years. There were no written records that still existed from that time period. The first language was the language from which hieroglyphs evolved. But even that early language was centuries removed from its source.

  “Have you figured anything out?” Laney asked.

  Her uncle opened his mouth to answer, but before he could say anything, the front door opened. Cain stood framed there. “A little.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be taking a shower,” Patrick grumbled.

  “This is more important.” He waved her in, carrying the Tome in his other hand. He disappeared down the hall toward the kitchen.

  Laney followed, now understanding Patrick’s concern. She had never seen Cain look so rattled. His hair was wild. His eyes were of course still black, but if they weren’t, she was sure they’d be red from how often he rubbed them. And there were dark circles underneath them as well.

  “I can’t figure it out. I mean, I know it’s there. But I can’t find it.” Cain placed the Tome on the table with a thud. Laney winced. The Tome was so old she worried about damaging it, but Cain looked like he wanted to toss the thing across the room.

  Cain rifled through the pages before stopping and pointing. “It all revolves around this. But I can’t see it.”

  Laney leaned forward. Cain was pointing at two intertwined triangles, what had become known the world over as the Seal of Solomon.

  Cain flipped a page. “It’s everywhere.”

  Patrick put a hand gently on Cain’s forearm, stopping him from flipping to another page. “How about if you tell Laney what you’ve learned? Perhaps a fresh ear will help.”

  Cain looked between them and nodded before slumping into a chair.

  Laney got up and poured Cain a cup of tea, grabbing a plate and piling some fruit on it. He nodded his thanks as she placed it in front of him. Patrick sat leaning forward, staring at the Tome. “It really is beautiful.”

  Laney scooted her chair closer to his to get a better look. He had flipped back to the original page Cain had been reading. There was a picture of Victoria. She looked to be in maybe her forties.

  “That is how she looked when I first knew her,” Cain said.

  Laney looked up at him and then back at the picture. “You mean when she . . .”

  “Made us mortal? Yes. She ha
d been alive for thousands of years. In modern day, she would look around forty, maybe forty-five.”

  Laney stared at the image of the woman on the page. What strength it must have taken to make the decision she did. Not only to know she would cause pain to herself indefinitely but to know each and every human would suffer from that point forward based on her decision. They would live, but they would all die. They would suffer the death and loss of those they loved. Laney was glad she hadn’t been the one to make that choice, although the decision to remove the powers of the Fallen might be just as world-shattering.

  “Do you think she made the right choice?” Patrick asked.

  “Had you asked me right afterward, I would have said no. I would have said she was cruel, selfish.” Cain sighed. “But now? I have seen over my long life the incredible kindness in humanity. And its cruelty. Should we all have been kind, her choice would have been unnecessary. But our long lives only encouraged the cruel. Humanity is better off with shorter lifetimes, with less power.”

  Laney couldn’t help but think of the choice ahead of her now. Removing the abilities of the Fallen from all of them. How many would be hurt by her actions? But how many would be spared? There was no way to know that. In her heart, she knew that such power was not meant to be shared like this. She didn’t think it had ever been meant to be shared.

  “Removing the abilities of the Fallen, it is also the right decision,” Cain said, cutting into Laney’s thoughts as if he could read her mind. “Like I said, humanity is better off with less power.”

  “Cain’s right,” Patrick said. “Look at all that has happened in just the short time those abilities have become available. The world is on the edge of war. We are not ready for these abilities. I don’t think we ever will be. I don’t think humanity is made better because of them.”

  Laney ran her thumb over the face of her ring. She didn’t wear it very often. She didn’t need to. Her abilities had become hardwired into her. But she liked the weight of the ring. It reminded her of her responsibilities. She glanced from the intersecting triangles on her ring to those in the Tome. “So what have you found?”

  “It does speak of a weapon. ‘The blight of the wicked will be removed from the earth. But the sacrifice will be great.’ The mention of sacrifice is done multiple times.”

  Laney nodded. She’d known sacrifice would be required. “Does it say what the sacrifice is?”

  Annoyance crept into Cain’s tone. “No. It mentions the weapon can only be wielded by the one chosen to fight the Fallen. But it doesn’t say what the weapon is.”

  “Was the weapon created by Lilith?”

  Cain nodded. “It doesn’t specifically say that, but reading between the lines, that seems to be a possibility.”

  She knew her mother had been guiding humanity for thousands of years, but it was still awe inspiring how much she seemed to do. And how little I know of her accomplishments.

  “Do we know when it was created?” Patrick asked.

  “After the destruction of Atlantis.”

  “After they knew how much damage the Fallen could truly do,” Laney said.

  After Atlantis, the surviving Atlanteans had scattered. Shortly thereafter, great civilizations began to appear out of nowhere across the globe. In the United States, it was the Mound Builders. In Central America, it was the Mayan civilization created by the god Viracocha. In Sumeria, it was the Anunnaki. And in Egypt, it was the dawn of the pharaohs.

  She frowned thinking of that last one. Egypt had always been a bit of a conundrum. Mainstream science argued that the Giza Plateau and its incredible archaeological sites were around four thousand years old. The King’s List, the Sumerian stone tablet that listed the Sumerian kings as well as the leaders of neighboring areas, however, depicted Egypt’s history as going back over thirty-six thousand years. Moreover, research by Dr. Robert Schoch and others clearly demonstrated that the Sphinx was thousands of years older than mainstream archaeologists believed, dating closer to 11,000 BC when the Giza Plateau was a fertile, and more importantly, rainy location.

  The Sphinx was also, according to Edgar Cayce, one of the repositories for the lost knowledge of Atlantis. It was reputed to be located under the front left paw of the Sphinx, a creature that, according to Noriko, was not supposed to have the head of a man and the body of a lion. The Sphinx was actually a jackal, representative of Anubis, the god of the underworld. At some point, his face had been reconstructed into that of a man.

  So much history. So much unknown. Thousands upon thousands of years had come and gone between when the weapon, whatever it was, had been created and today. Laney flipped through more pages, the sheer enormity of what they were trying to figure out overwhelming her.

  Maybe Cain’s right. We’re never going to be able to figure this out.

  Chapter 41

  Patrick had finally talked Cain into stepping away from the Tome and taking a shower. He needed a break. But Laney now sat at the table, flipping through the pages of the Tome. The margins of the ancient book were covered in incredible drawings. Some animals long extinct. Some creatures she could not identify. Others were buildings or people long gone. But a few she could recognize.

  Now Laney stared at an image of the pyramids of Giza. A ship was shown next to the Great Pyramid in one sketch, reminding Laney of another mystery associated with the Great Pyramid. Next to it, two pits were found that contained ancient sea vessels. One was unearthed and was on display at the boat museum on the Plateau. It was a 141-foot-high prow seagoing vessel, similar in design to Viking ships. They were at least 4,500 years old. Some experts argued it was more advanced than the ships in existence at the time of Columbus and had to have been created by a civilization with an extensive seafaring history, which of course was not the Egyptians.

  The boats were said to have been created to ferry the souls of the pharaohs to the other world. But where had they gotten the design from?

  Her gaze flicked to a sketch of the pyramids, the Great Pyramid rising high above the others. And that was always the problem when it came to the structures of the Giza Plateau: How were they built? She traced the outline of the pyramids. Creating the pyramids was beyond the capabilities of builders today. All theories used to explain their creation suffered from major issues. The most accepted theory was that ramps were used to create the pyramids. However, creating a ramp that could hold up multi-ton stones was an undertaking in and of itself. Most of the materials suggested would collapse under the weight.

  In fact, whereas most people would expect the largest of the blocks to be on the bottom of the Pyramid and to gradually decrease in size, that was not what had happened. Approximately fifty levels up, the stones actually grew larger. Why create a structure where your heaviest blocks are not on the bottom?

  Moreover, the size of the ramps was beyond imagination. If they wrapped around the pyramid, they would require either incredibly tight turns or massive rounded ramps. Mistakes would not be an option. If they were straight ramps, a new one would have to be constructed for each block. The building time for each pyramid would be centuries long.

  And yet, according to the experts, the Great Pyramid had been constructed in twenty years with 100,000 men, consisting of 2.3 million stones. That meant thirty-one stones would have to have been placed every hour each year. Of course, due to the rainy season, they would only be able to build nine months out of the year. Which meant four blocks a minute would have to have been placed, or two hundred and forty every hour. Impossible.

  Laney flipped to another page, but her mind kept stretching back to the Great Pyramid. Something was tugging at her, at the back of her mind. “Uncle Patrick, the passageways in the Great Pyramid are so odd. Some are incredibly short while others stretch to thirty or more feet. Why would they create them that way?”

  “That is one of the perplexing questions about the Great Pyramid. Some have argued that it was created in such a way as to predict the rise and fall of humanity. Each of humanity
’s greatest events is indicated along the path.”

  “But the path must end.”

  “Yes, most scholars who subscribe to the notion that the path is prophetic agree that it ends in the year 2038.”

  “And what happens then?”

  “Then the world either changes for the betterment of mankind or . . .” He shrugged.

  Right, death and devastation. Well, whatever was happening with the path, it certainly wasn’t something she needed to worry about right now.

  Assuming I make it to 2038, I’ll worry about it then.

  Her uncle sat with his hand on his chin. “Even if you don’t believe the prophetic passageways theory, the passageways themselves are confounding. You have this amazingly large structure, yet some of the pathways are incredibly small. There’s one that leads of the Queen’s Chamber that is only inches wide.”

  “Well, that can’t be intended for a human.”

  “Perhaps, but there is a metal doorway complete with hinges dozens of feet along it. The only one who could open it would be a mouse.”

  Laney nodded, familiar with the discovery of that small tunnel. “There’s just so much open space. And then these pathways of differing widths and heights. Honestly, it looks less like a tomb and more like a machine.”

  Patrick nodded slowly. “The name ‘pyramid’ actually translates into ‘fire in the middle.’ There’s an engineer by the name of Chris Dunn who argues that the pyramids were actually machines. That they used tectonic vibrations to create electricity.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “I’m not sure. The pyramids themselves don’t really work as tombs, even though that is the function mainstream archaeology has attributed to them.”

  Laney knew what he meant. The Valley of the Kings had been the burial spot for the pharaohs and distinguished nobles for five hundred years. Each unearthed tomb was extravagant in its holdings. Yet the pyramids, which were supposed to be the tombs for the pharaohs Khufu, Khafre, and Menkaure, were completely empty of any wealth or funerary goods. Not even a single broken piece of pottery had ever been found there. Experts claimed that was because of grave robbers who had removed everything of value from the sites.