The Noah Satellite

by Allan E Petersen

  “I’m sorry honey. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just surprised to see you here.”

  Jessika, always one to recover quickly from a jolt to the nervous system, after all she has three children, smiled and said,

  “No problem. I have an extra diaper in my bag.”

  Maria laughed and said,

  “Yes, well apparently I have that effect on people.”

  Looking at the computer and pretending she understood what was on the screen, Maria said,

  “I thought this was the day you ran into the village as fast as you could?”

  Patting the main terminal Jessika said,

  “This baby has been calling my name for months.”

  She then asked a hopeful question,

  “Have the Russians reported any success with the language inside the Black Knight yet?”

  It was only then that Maria recognized what was on the screen. With a knowing grin she said,

  “No, but because you are still officially on parental leave, I was going to wait and ask you to try again. However, I see you are already well into those programs.”

  “Yes, well I hated to leave the screaming monsters for just one day but who else but me had worked closely with Zak to digitize his practically uncountable reams of translations and more qualified to access his files?”

  Accepting the credentials and ignoring Jessika’s audacity at assuming who the boss wanted to work on the mystery, Maria asked,

  “Anything come up?”

  Jessika turned back to the screen, pointed and said,

  “Here are the photographs of all the writing on the tags and panels that I assume are in the language of the owners of the satellite.”

  As Maria saw the hundreds of pictures she had taken scroll onto the screen, Jessika continued,

  “I cross referenced them to every known alien language in Zak’s data base and unfortunately did not find a match.”

  Maria shook her head and said,

  “So we still don’t know what race of aliens the satellite belongs to. Too bad, I was hoping for a hit.”

  Ever the optimist, Jessika said,

  “Well it’s not that bad, we have learned who the satellite does not belong to.”

  Disappointed, Maria turned and walked toward the door while saying,

  “Okay, stay with it and maybe something will come up later on.”

  Chapter 32

  Belle and Robert are in the family room compiling notes made during their research in King Rhymen’s private library of Bulgarian history for their school project. What made the task boring was that on the insistence of mom and dad, nothing was to be mentioned about a tunnel in the floor of the library or a trip to a strange world. Robert vehemently protested, claiming it was the most exciting thing about their assignment. However, parental insistence prevailed and both sulked.

  Because their tutors had been released for the school holiday it became the task of the parents to supervise their work or as they thought, to be the slave masters of the children. This morning Santo reluctantly accepted what he thought to be a demotion and sat occasionally looking up from his computer making sure the rambunctious children stayed to the task with open eyes. Despite a lack of interest at least they were attentive to their notes. Or so he thought.

  Never liking to work at his desk, he soon felt the curse of heavy eyes. Although the ring given to Belle to record the information needed to learn the real reason the Vatican raided the ancient Rhymen Empire faltered when passing through the dimensional gate, it was still able to record the information Belle thought was pertinent to her secondary assignment for her dad. He was now going through that data.

  His only wish was that Belle had been a little more understanding of the assignment. Instead of scanning only helpful information, she had scanned page after page of irrelevant material. However, consideration was given for her lack of spying skills. It was understood that somewhere in the reams of recorded information was what he was after. It was just a matter of running the recorded information through the translation program and extract what he thought was pertinent. Although Portuguese was his native tongue, there was a better understanding of the translations when run through the English translation.

  After a few more hours of occasionally casting furtive eyes to the children, making sure they had not smuggled in handheld games, he began to wish he had smuggled in more exciting material to read. What he read and no matter how many times, all the information still added up to being inconclusive. He was no better off now than before the project started. Giving up, he understood that here was only one person who could shed some light on the mystery of why the Vatican invaded the ancient Rhymen kingdom but he was not a trusted member of the House of the Nazarene.

  At his wits end, saved by the bell or rather his session of guarding the kids, Helga came to relieve him. As if it was a tedious chore to forever look after the education of the children, she did not look happy. Santo noticed the forlorn look and asked what the matter was. It was a sad reply.

  “I just want to be productive, to do something that does not involve tutors and administering to the education of the children.

  I feel that I am a better agent for the House of the Nazarene than just that.”

  Understanding her feelings, for he had them too, he hated being stuck behind a desk. He missed being a soldier. He missed assignments and action. Not understanding the complexities of female emotions, he thought he was being helpful when saying,

  “I think the education of our children is a very important position. You are doing a great job.”

  A slow weak smile lifted on one side of her lips. She knew it was important. That was not the problem. Thinking he had done well by lifting her spirits, he left a defeated Helga to her tedious assignment.

  Chapter 33

  Commander Razk was not a good looking man. Being short and squat didn’t help either. A huge pug nose heavily accented no discernable chin. Although never to his face, many thought that if he was just a foot or two shorter he would make a perfect garden gnome. What made him notable was his high position in the Vatican hierocracy. There was no authority save the Pope above him. Commander Razk was the Supreme Commander of Security and Secrets as well as service to the Trilogy of Cardinals.

  Over the years there have been many contentious times between the House of the Nazarene and the Vatican. Far back in history they were mortal enemies, one trying to destroy the other. The hatred between them mellowed somewhat when Gustav Magnus Laurent became the leader of the House of the Nazarene. Before his death at the revenge of the Duchess, when she destroyed Ile de Celeste, it was Gustav’s plan to ‘freeze’ Vatican assets by contaminating treasury vaults with deadly radiation. However, when the Vatican was in danger of also being destroyed by the revengeful Duchess, it was Santo and Maria who saved the Vatican.

  Since then, for the sake of mutual interest and since Maria’s new mandate for the House of the Nazarene, there had on occasion been cooperation between the two nemeses for mutual gain. One power knows that aliens exist and the other is struggling to come to terms with it. For now, it is mostly a relationship of tolerance between Santo and Commander Razk.

  Santo left Helga to mind the children and returned to his office. He thought he had made her feel better about looking after them but only inadvertently made things worse. He sat at his desk, opened his computer and prepared to open a secure communication link to the Vatican. The mystery of why the Vatican really invaded the Rhymen kingdom way back then and now coupled by what Belle and Robert had discovered in the basement added a great weight to the mystery.

  Old records of Vatican finances at that time showed that they were in good shape and certainly didn’t need to gather their army of holy terror to replenish their coffers. In fact, it cost a great deal of money to raise an army and march into the Rhymen kingdom. When examining old battle strategies, Santo learned that it was not a battle so much as a siege of the castle. It took almost a year for the ca
stle to fall. It had always been a mystery to the Vatican how the castle could last that long. How was the defending army supplied with food and water to survive a siege for that long? And most important of all, what was in the castle to encourage the Vatican army to wait it out. Why didn’t they simply return to Rome? Belle and Robert had now answered the mystery of the supplies. Food and water did not come from this planet.

  On his computer, Santo accessed a series of coded numbers but the instant reply was a code implying the Commander could not respond right away but will get back momentarily. True to the estimated wait time, a few minutes later Commander Antoni Razk answered with an apology.

  “I’m sorry for the delay Santo. I was tied up in a meeting.”

  Santo had never been comfortable with Razk’s propensity of a first name bases. He knew Razk’s first name was Antoni and in previous conversations had asked to be called Tony. Although much improved from their contentious history, Santo always preferred their titles. To him it was a matter of respect for rank. Commander Razk and the Captain were not friends. Razk then added,

  “How can I be of service to you on this fine day?”

  It was a call for information and so it might have been easier to simply ask questions over the secured line but Santo wanted a face to face meeting. He found it easier to read a person’s facial expressions rather than detecting intonations in a voice. He responded to Razk’s question by saying,

  “I would like a meeting with you as soon as possible.”

  Razk responded with a perfectly normal question.

  “Yes, of course. May I ask the purpose of the meeting?”

  At that, Santo explained his request for information about the Rhymen castle raid and looting of the treasury.

  Surprisingly there was a pause in Razk’s reply. Santo thought he might be checking his appointment calendar and so patiently waited. Finally,

  “Sorry for the delay. I had to access that information.”

  Santo then heard something he didn’t want to hear. Razk added,

  “As I remember, you and Waldorf Hismanal, your House of the Nazarene Head of Security at that time broke into one of our secure vaults and stole documents that eventually led to the return of that pilfered treasure.”

  Santo didn’t want to get into a quarrelsome debate about what once happened. Since being instrumental in preventing the Duchess from destroying the Vatican, the brick wall between them was now simply a wispy curtain. His reply was carefully worded.

  “Yes, well I’m sorry about that (he really wasn’t) but this is about the Vatican and its ancient policies. I simply need some information about the reason for the Rhymen siege.”

  Thankfully Razk accepted the vailed apology and said,

  “I see that you have dug deep into that incident and discovered it was a siege and not an attack. You are an accomplished researcher Santo. However, such information is not available to me presently. I am currently not in the Vatican but rather in Naples. I have been tied up for days in the church of the city's patron Saint, Cattedrale di San Gennaro. I’m afraid what has been discovered in the catacombs under the church will have me tied up here for at least a week or so. Is your patience able to wait that long for my return?”

  When Santo got his teeth into a project, he doesn’t like to let go of the bone. Although his quest was not even close to important to the security or mandate of the House of the Nazarene, his determination, or as sometimes Maria referred to it, stubbornness prevailed. Although dearly wanting to know what was discovered under the Cattedrale di San Gennaro catacombs, he understood that it was not a subject to be discussed between contenders. Once reported to Maria, it will be up to her to probe and evaluated its importance. Disappointed that his patience will have to be stretched, he slowly replied,

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Was it important Santo?”

  No, not important in ordinary circumstances but certainly important enough to feed his insatiable curiosity. He didn’t want to wait that long and so probed for a solution. This was not the time for professionalism and so used the ploy of a friendly first name bases.

  “Yes, in a way Tony. What can you do to help me?”

  “Very well Santo, I’ll contact my Second in Command, Cardinal Leone Alighieri. He is currently at the Vatican and I’ll arrange for clearances for you to meet him. You will be granted a temporary high level research clearance pertaining only to the siege of the castle.”

  “Thank you Tony. I am in your debt.”

  Razk chuckled and said,

  “Yes, apparently you are once again.”

  Within the hour, Santo was in a D-wing flying to the estate of their Rome field agent. With the financial help of the House of the Nazarene, the agent maintained acreage on the edge of the Eternal City on one of the famous Seven Hills of Rome. Santo maintained stealth mode and set straight down into a small grove of fig trees. In this case there was no need to send the D-wing into the clouds waiting for a return signal. Still in stealth mode, he slowly maneuvered it into an ancient building occasionally used as a car garage. There was also no need to meet the field agent or flash security codes. This had happened many times in the past and he knew exactly what to do.

  Inside the garage and with great skill, Santo put the D-wing down next to an older red Alfa Romeo Spider convertible. Because it was a clear and warm day, as it always was this time of year and liking to feel a breeze through his hair, Santo took a few minutes to pull the roof back. After maneuvering through the winding estate road and passing the manor, looking more like a palace, he knew the agent would be furtively watching from one of the many terraces and so waved goodbye. Seeing the Alfa Romeo approaching, again as arranged, the security guard opened the great Iron Gate and without stopping, Santo waved goodbye to him.

  Never one to tolerate tardiness on a mission, he became concerned with the heavy traffic on the Pont Cavour bridge. It got worse driving on the busy street past the north end of Castle Saint Angelo. Perhaps he should have planned his trip better. Rush hour and tourist season in Rome generally meant ‘crawl hour’. It was times like this that he wished he was in his air-conditioned D-wing and able to set down in the middle of the Vatican.

  Eventually and still with a few minutes to spare, he turned into the Vatican’s north security gate. True to Razk’s promise and as a testament to his expediency, Santo’s name was on the entry sheet. He was waved through and directed to a specific parking space beside an old concrete building with what he thought had far too many small windows. However, just permission to enter the Vatican grounds did not give him full access to private buildings. Because he didn’t know where to go, he was pleased to see a Swiss Guard approach the car. After an approval of identity, Santo was led into that multi-windowed building and guided through many and long private halls.

  As Santo followed the Swiss Guard, it was clear that he was not inside a common office building. He was led through a grandiose long hall with walls covered in paintings of the Masters. Looking up, he saw massive towering arches. He had never been impressed by opulent displays, in fact abhorred it. He understood that to the pious, while walking these halls the splendor of the arches was meant to suggest something powerful and omniscient was above you.

  The guard stopped at a large cedar door carved with scenes of the bible, angles, Jesus and the Holy Virgin Mary. Clearly the intent of the holy door was to say, entering here is to enter through the gates of heaven. What lies beyond is the hope of all. Rather than genuflect to the inference, true to his dislike of such lavishness, he simply scoffed his objection. His escort swiped a security card and he heard the click and hiss of hydraulics opening the door. Apparently the gate to heaven operated on hydraulics and had tight security.

  Entering and seeing Cardinal Leone Alighieri’s private office, he was even more offended by imitation grandeur and pomp. His desk was clearly meant to impress a great authority to office and it probably did to everybody but Santo. Not even if greatly cursed wi
th an inflated ego would he want his office to look anything like this. When looking across the floor at Cardinal Leone Alighieri sitting behind what was clearly meant to represent a throne, Santo understood where such opulence came from.

  As Santo stood, but not at attention in front of the Cardinal, he evaluated him with a stern military eye. He was greatly aged and bent over by the burden of heavy responsibility. Santo was not sure if it was the surrounding magnificence which made him appear majestic or if it was just a natural appearance of authority. At any rate, he glowed with both piety and power. One thing for sure, he had piercing eyes that seemed to look straight into a man’s soul. Although Santo didn’t think that it was for his benefit, Cardinal Leone Alighieri sat posed in his Cardinal red finery. At least to Santo, the only thing missing was a crown of thorns.There was no formality of introduction. Both knew who each was and the intent of the meeting. The Cardinal casually pointed to the chair across his desk and Santo accepted the invitation to sit. After only a few seconds of each staring at the other and evaluating personalities, Cardinal Leone Alighieri finally spoke.

  “So you have come looking for information about a dark chapter in our past.”