by Simon Rosser
Tom knelt and brushed away some of the pine needles. The object was about the length of a harpoon gun, similar in appearance, save for the fact there was no actual harpoon attached to it. It was constructed from a curious material, metallic, like tungsten. Tom touched what looked like the handle end. It felt cool and almost soft to the touch, like a hard gel. It felt very strange.
He pulled it from the foliage. The object felt lighter than its size would suggest, as if it were made from wood, not metal. And another odd quality, Tom realised, was that at some angles the object appeared to be translucent. Weird, very weird, Tom thought, as a shiver ran down his spine.
“Military you think?” Casey said.
“I’ve really no idea. It looks like a harpoon gun, but not one from this time and place,” Tom added, as he picked the object up off the ground.
“What are you talking about? You’re saying it’s from the future?” Casey said, grinning.
“Is everything all right?” Armstrong shouted over from the spot where the bear’s arm lay.
“We’re coming now. We've found something very odd. Get the camera rolling,” Casey said, as they headed over.
Tom thought about Casey’s comment as he hurried back towards the clearing, the handle end of the object feeling as if it were slowly moulding itself to his grip.
CHAPTER 14
NASA/PENTAGON JOINT EMERGENCY MEETING
September 19, 10 A.M.
THE LARGE WALL-MOUNTED monitor flickered momentarily, as telemetry poured down the screen, the latest data on the location of the mystery signal and its apparent termination point, the Saha impact crater on the far side of the Moon.
A second, large monitor displayed the data for the additional signal that had been detected, which had its source at the same location on the Moon, and its termination point or origin, it wasn’t possible to verify as yet, in the region of an Earth-like planet in the constellation of Cassiopeia.
“Do you think there is anything, I mean anything, significant about the Moon location, Professor Beck,” Major Joseph Grant asked, as he lit up a fat, Havana cigar.
Beck shook his head. “The region was mapped and photographed by the Soviet Union’s Luna Three space probe, but of course we’ve never been there. I don’t need to remind you the U.S. Government pulled the plug on the Saturn Vs in 1974 after the last Moon mission.”
General Grant grunted. “Well, we figured there wasn’t much else to find. We achieved our goal at the time by beating the Russians up there. Our next target is Mars, far more exciting – or so we thought.” The general took a long pull on his cigar, and blew the smoke out over everyone’s heads and sat in silence, as if deep in thought. “How long did it take our Saturn V’s to reach the Moon, Professor?” he asked.
Frederick Beck shifted on his seat, and thought back to the Saturn V launches. “Around three days.”
“Three days. A lot can happen in three days, but I suppose five decades ago that wasn’t too bad,” the general said, blowing out a large smoke ring, which drifted idly up towards the ceiling.
“What if I were to tell you we had a craft that could get three men to the Moon in less time than it takes to drive from Los Angeles to Las Vegas. Is that something that would interest you?”
Beck turned to Lucy and his other two SETI colleagues and then back at the general. “You’re talking less than four hours?” he questioned.
“Probably less, but about right,” the general said, expelling a plume of smoke from his never-ending cigar.
Beck shook his head. “That’s impossible. Our New Horizons probe was the fastest craft ever to reach the moon. It passed it in eight and a half hours after launch, travelling at thirty-six thousand miles an hour on its way to Pluto. Are you saying you have something faster than that?”
“The general leaned back in his chair and stretched. I’m not saying anything. Your job is to assemble some suitable astronauts in the next twelve hours. Do that and we can get them to the Moon by six tomorrow evening.”
The general leaned forward. “We need to get back up there ASAP to find out what the hell that signal is. Why it terminates on the Moon, and what is transmitting the second signal towards the constellation Cassiopeia. Just get me those astronauts,’ gentlemen,” he said, standing up.
The two military men walked to the door. “We will be in touch at ten p.m. to discuss this further. I’ll expect some developments and suggestions as to what we do when we get to the location of the transmission. The astronauts also need to be de-briefed before we can allow them to go.”
The two scientists just stared at the general and his sidekick as they left the room, their jaws hanging open in disbelief.
CHAPTER 15
Mount Shasta, 7.40 P.M.
THE SUN HAD just started to dip behind the pine trees leaving a distinct chill filling the air as Casey struck a match to light the tinder under the pile of wood he’d assembled.
“Have you figured out what that thing is yet?” he asked Tom, raising his voice above the sound of the crackling wood.
Tom shook his head. “No idea. It looks like a weapon of some kind, but you've studied it, there are no buttons or trigger on it that I can see. I’ve taken a photo and sent it on to Gerry over at MIT He might come up with something,” Tom said.
Alicia, Armstrong, and Arron were grouped together a short distance away, at the edge of the pine forest. Armstrong wanted some atmospheric footage for the documentary, having earlier filmed and speculated with the group over what the mystery harpoon-like object might be. It was all perfect material for the documentary.
Bruce was on his computer doing some research on the mountain, specifically the old mineshafts dotted around the area. “Hmm, this is interesting,” he said, looking up from his laptop. “According to this article, some of these mineshafts extend right up under the mountain. Could be a good addition to the documentary if nothing else,” he said, half to himself.
Tom turned his head to study the tin shack at the edge of the clearing they’d passed yesterday. He’d forgotten about it after the excitement of finding the strange object in the forest. “Well, let’s go check it out,” he said, carefully placing the harpoon-like object on a towel he’d laid on the grass. “You coming?” he asked Jessica.
“Yeah, I guess,” she said, getting up.
Tom grabbed the small flashlight, and he and Jess wandered over to the edge of forest near to the narrow track they’d driven up yesterday. The light was beginning to fade, and the forest was looking dark and unsettling either side of the route.
The shack was a simple construction, made from corrugated steel sheeting that formed the roof and sides, which was riveted over thick wood and steel beams. The entire thing was built against the side of what looked like a solid area of rock that protruded up from the ground. The sides and roof were now covered in vines and undergrowth, concealing the entire construction quite nicely. There was no door, just a dark void that disappeared into the mine shaft.
“I’m not bloody going in there,” Jessica protested as they reached the shack.
“Hmm, it looks a bit creepy, I grant you,” Tom said.
“Looks like the entrance to the Ghost Train ride, but worse,” she said.
“Stay there, I just want to take a look inside. Don’t worry, I’m not going into the mineshaft,” Tom said, turning the flashlight on.
Tom entered the shack, which was around eight feet square and panned the interior with the flashlight. Over in the far right corner he saw a wooden table, on top of which sat two old lanterns and an old, rusty tin. A few oily rags hung from rusted hooks on the opposite corner.
Directly ahead, Tom could see the mineshaft, hewn from solid rock, which descended and disappeared off to the left at a gentle angle in the direction of the mountain. There were ancient, rusted hand rails bolted to the sides of the shaft, and a well-worn narrow gauge track embedded in the ground, leading into the mine. Tom shone the flashlight into the dark tunnel, the beam of light fro
m his torch casting weird shadows against the tunnel walls, created by the jagged, rough rock. He was just about to turn and leave when the beam of light washed over something on the ground, just where the tunnel bent to the left. “There’s something in the tunnel, Jess, just a short distance away. I’m going to go in and take a look,” Tom said, turning towards Jess whose grey, shadowy figure was barely visible standing just outside the entrance to the mine.
Tom carefully walked the twenty-five feet to reach the object, which appeared to be an old wooden casket the size of a cooler box. He reached down and grabbed the side handles, which creaked as he pulled on them. As he did, he felt his wrist brush against a thick, spider’s web. He yanked the casket up off the ground and walked briskly towards the light, where Jessica was waiting for him. Tom emerged from the dark tunnel and dropped the weighty casket onto the ground just outside the shack. As he did, Jessica screamed.
“Jesus Christ, Tom, you've got a freaking massive spider on your shoulder.”
Tom didn’t see himself as squeamish, but didn’t like the thought of a spider being anywhere near him either. Especially one he couldn’t see. He shrieked in response to Jess’ comment and jumped up and down in an attempt to shake the critter off him. Tom felt what could only have been one of the spider’s legs tickle his neck. He freaked out, yanked his jumper and T-Shirt off, and started cursing.
Bruce and Doug came running over from the fire. “What the hell is going on?” Bruce shouted.
“Tom went into the mine and came out with a bloody huge spider on his shoulder,” Jess shrieked.
“Calm down, buddy. There’s nothing on you now,” Doug said, reassuring Tom.
Tom’s jumper was lying on the ground a short distance away. As Tom went to retrieve it, a saucer-sized black spider scuttled off into the undergrowth.
The four of them watched it leave. “Hmm, I think you’d have been ok,” Bruce shrugged. “That was a Lampshade spider. It looks gruesome, but is fairly harmless!”
“Come face to face with a Bigfoot but freak out over a spider!” Arran, who’d come over to see what was going on, teased.
Tom shook his head and took in a deep breath of air. “Stop arsing around and help me with this chest; let’s take it over to the camp,” he said, grabbing his shirt and jumper from the ground.
Bruce grabbed one end of the casket, Tom the other and they walked it over to the camp-fire.
Armstrong and his film crew were just heading back from filming a scene at the edge of the forest. “What have you found?” he asked Tom, intrigued.
“A casket of some kind. It was in the old mineshaft. I’m just about to open it,” Tom said.
“Okay hold on, let’s film it being opened,” Armstrong said, clicking his fingers at John.
Tom waited for John to run over with the camera to start filming, before flipping up the heavy central clasp that was holding the lid of the casket in place.
Tom lifted the lid, which creaked open.
“It’s empty?” Armstrong bellowed, disappointed.
“Not quite. There’s something here,” Tom said, pulling out an old, worn yellow piece of parchment that wasn’t immediately visible.
“Oh, wow, it’s a treasure map!” Alicia said, suddenly interested.
Tom carefully opened the piece of parchment which had been folded into eight sections.
“It’s definitely some kind of map,” he said.
“Are you serious?” Alicia said, glancing over Tom’s shoulder to get a better look.
With the parchment unfolded and laid out on the ground, the group could see what was clearly a drawing of Mount Shasta marked in faded ink. Leading inwards were numerous routes, presumably the mineshafts that were dotted around the area. One of the routes on the map ended in what appeared to be a large, underground cavern. The scale on the map suggested it was around half a mile from their current location.
“That's very interesting,” Bruce said, bringing his laptop over and comparing the image he had on screen with the unfolded piece of parchment. On the laptop screen was a similar plan of the mine system. It showed more or less the same routes. The only thing that was different was on the actual parchment, which showed the cavern feature.
“Check this out,” Bruce said, enthusiastically. “See this shaft here. It meets another shaft a hundred feet along, which seems to lead to this cavern feature on the parchment. He paused before speaking again. “You know what I'm thinking?”
Tom was thinking the same thing, but surely it would be too coincidental?
“You’re not thinking this cavern area could be close to where the signal is emanating from?” Tom suggested.
“Well it has to be pretty close. We have the coordinates. Check this out,” Bruce said, as he punched the keyboard. “I’ve overlaid the signal source graphic onto the map of the tunnels and look,” he said, pointing.
Tom studied the screen. He found their current location, indicated by a blue dot that Bruce had cleverly overlaid onto the map using the I-Pad’s satellite app. The mineshaft behind them was visible, as was another longer shaft that intersected it, and continued on to the cavern shown on the old parchment.
“Okay that’s enough for now,” Armstrong said, to John who'd been filming since Tom opened the casket.
The fire popped behind them, just as an owl hooted from somewhere deep in the forest.
“Oh god that signals the day is drawing to a close again. After tonight, I’m done, Tom. I really don't think I can spend another night on this damn mountain,” Jess said.
“You and I both, honey. Don't worry; I’ll insist we leave tomorrow as planned.” Tom wasn't going to break his promise but there was no way he was going to be leaving without first checking out the cavern shown on the map, especially if it was close to the location of the mystery signal SETI had detected.
“Okay who’s up for some hot dogs?” Alicia shouted over from the fire.
“Ah, perfect timing. I'll crack open some Merlot,” Armstrong said, heading over to one of the trucks.
Tom and Jess walked over to the fire and each grabbed a hotdog from Alicia. As they all sat eating around the fire, Armstrong asked, “So, guys, I know it’s tempting to check the mineshaft out, but my preference is to head to the signal area overland. The film crew have no option. We’re not insured for any underground filming, and those shafts are ancient. There’s no way we can guarantee anyone’s safety.”
Jess rolled her eyes. “Some common sense at last!” she said.
“If we leave for Cobalt Ridge at first light, we can be back in town before dark. How's that?”
“Thank god for that,” Jessica replied.
Embers popped from the fire and landed on Alicia’s knee.
"Shit!" she screamed, quickly brushing them off.
As silence descended once again, Tom felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out. There was a message waiting from Gerry over at MIT. He opened it up and slowly read the text, then read it again to make sure he'd digested it correctly.
I CARRIED OUT A SEARCH UNDER VARIOUS PHRASES ‘PERSONAL WEAPON’, ‘UNUSUAL WEAPON’, ‘ANCIENT WEAPON’, AND ‘ADVANCED WEAPON’, UNDER THE CATEGORIES OF ‘SPEAR’, ‘SWORD’, AND ‘GUN’, IN ALL THE USUAL DATA BASES, BOTH ACTUAL, MYTHOLOGICAL AND LEGENDARY AND THIS IS THE CLOSEST MATCH - THE PREFERRED WEAPON OF NINURTA WHO IS THE SUMERIAN AND AKKADIAN HERO-GOD OF WAR AND HUNTING. MAKES NO SENSE TO ME, BUT IT'S WHAT THE SYSTEM IS THROWING BACK AT ME.
Tom frowned. It had to be an error. What on earth would an ancient mythological weapon be doing lying on the ground in Mount Shasta’s Trinity National Park? Nothing made sense.
“That a message from Gerry?” Casey asked.
Tom slowly nodded his head. “Yep, but you’re not going to believe what it says.”
CHAPTER 16
CASEY THREW MORE thick branches onto the fire to keep it going, the flames quickly starting to dance higher in response.
Tom had spent the last hour hunched over the laptop
, searching for any relevant information on Ninurta and links to the Sumerians and the Weapon of Legend, however there wasn't much else to be found. He stretched and was about to close the laptop when a low, distant rumble, more of a growl, emanated from the forest, somewhere off to their right, on the eastern side.
“What the hell was that?” Casey said, leaving the fire and grabbing his rifle, which was standing up against one of the camera tripods. He raised it to his shoulder in order to use the night vision scope to scan the dark forest.
“Oh Jesus, those creatures are coming back to get us,” Jess said.
“Well, we are at the base an active volcano. It could be some seismic activity. Maybe Shasta’s waking up?” Tom suggested.
“I bloody hope not. I can’t see anything,” Casey called out, as he continued panning the eastern edge of the forest.
The sound briefly drifted out of the forest again, carried on the evening breeze.
“I don’t like this one bit,” Casey said, as Armstrong grabbed a set of night vision goggles from the small table and joined him, while he continued panning the forest with the night vision scope on his rifle.
“Something’s not right. It doesn’t sound like seismic activity. Come on, let’s get our backpacks,” Tom whispered to Jess,” as he grabbed the object they’d found in the forest and ran with her to their tent pod. They quickly packed the few items they had into their backpacks before re-joining the team, who were all standing nervously by the crackling fire, which was the only sound that could now be heard.
“I think I just saw something," Casey said, nodding his head towards an area of forest over to the right.
Armstrong, who still had the night vision goggles pressed to his face, panned over to the location.
“Shit!” he suddenly spat out, after a few short seconds. “You’re right, we've got company.”
