Area 51_The Sphinx

by Robert Doherty

  “Jesus,” Turcotte exclaimed. “What about the people these things touched?”

  “I don’t know,” Duncan said.

  “There were over six thousand people on board the Washington,” Turcotte said.

  “I know that. The Navy picked up almost four thousand crew members out of the ocean. They jumped overboard when Admiral Poldan gave the order.”

  “And the other two thousand crew? We don’t know what happened to them?”

  “From Poldan’s last transmissions, we know some of them were killed. The rest, well, I would have to assume they have been … the only word I could use is captured.”

  “Can nanotechnology affect humans?” Turcotte asked.

  “In various ways, yes.”

  “Goddamn!” Turcotte exploded. “We stopped the Black Death and now we have this?”

  “Nanotechnology,” Duncan said, “is the wave of the future in almost every area. It will revolutionize practically everything we know. Think of machines built at the molecular level able to go inside our bodies and help maintain them. Machines that can attack cholesterol at the molecular level in our bloodstream. Or be designed specifically to attack cancer cells.

  “And nanotechnology removes waste in construction. Since the building is done at the molecular level, there is no excess or lost material. It is also extremely efficient of energy. It’s like”—Duncan paused, searching for an analogy—“like having a machine that is a paper copier, except dealing with machines rather than paper images—it would be able to make copies of anything.

  “A nanometer is one-billionth of a meter,” Duncan continued. “You get about ten atoms per nanometer. What I think the guardian has mastered that we can’t do yet is be able to work the atoms individually and place them where it wants. We’ve barely begun to work at microtechnology, which are small robots you can see. You can’t even see a nanorobot.

  “I call it a virus, because it’s the mechanical sibling of the organic virus. Capable of replicating on its own, operating at a level even smaller than that of organic viruses.”

  “What is the guardian going to do now that it has mastered this?”

  “I don’t know,” Duncan said.

  “We’d better come up with something,” Turcotte said, “because it just sucked up the most powerful weapon system on the face of this planet. How many nuclear warheads were on board the Washington?”

  “Eight.”

  “Great.”

  “Don’t forget that the Washington also had two nuclear reactors,” Duncan added. She leaned forward, and her voice lowered. “I think this is going to force UNAOC’s hand. They’re going to have to attack Easter Island.”

  “Then you’d better hope those two thousand sailors are really dead,” Turcotte said.

  “Even if they aren’t,” Duncan said, “when you have a virus, sometimes you have to cut off the infected part.”

  “Jesus!” Turcotte exclaimed. “That’s a bit cold.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Duncan quickly said. Her hands were pressed against the side of her head. The others in the room were watching her, not able to offer any support.

  “I know you didn’t, but is that the way UNAOC is going to look at it?” Turcotte asked. “When I was getting ready to go on an operation, we always had to ask ourselves some hard questions. One of those questions was what we would do if we had someone wounded and he couldn’t keep up with us.

  “It’s real easy in the movies for that guy to volunteer to stay behind, or for someone to make the decision to leave that guy behind with a pack of cigarettes in one hand and a gun in the other, but in real life it’s a whole different ball game. Because the question we would ask was what if it was me, not some other guy.” His voice was tight. “Me that was the one who was wounded. The one we were talking about leaving behind. The one on Easter Island we’re talking about nuking.”

  “I understand, Mike, but this is out of our hands now.”

  “I know, but goddamn, two thousand men! And Kelly Reynolds, let’s not forget she’s still there.”

  Duncan sighed. “Mike, let’s let UNAOC take care of this. The good thing is that Easter Island is very isolated. Whatever the guardian has planned, I hope we can contain it. Let’s keep our focus on finding this key. That’s the most immediate problem.”

  “What about Che Lu?” Turcotte changed the subject.

  “There’s not much we can do about that either. We haven’t heard from her since the nuke went off. The Chinese have sealed their borders.”

  “Goddamn,” Turcotte swore. “This is ridiculous. We’re not only fighting the aliens, we’re fighting ourselves again.”

  “Mike, I know that. We have to do the best we can.”

  “And if it’s not good enough?” There was a short pause. “Does anyone there have anything useful?” Turcotte finally asked.

  “I will try to interpret the high runes on the stone,” Mualama said. “I believe it will lead us to an even more significant find.”

  “I have something.” Kincaid opened a folder. “My computer whiz guys have extracted more from the Scorpion hard drives.”

  He handed a copy to each person and read it out loud so Turcotte could get it.

  Appendix 1 Cross-References The Mission & Domeka

  (research reconstruction and field report)

  10 / 21 / 92—Cordian

  Overview:

  While investigating the role of The Mission in the Inquisition, specifically the trail of Galileo for heresy in 1624, I discovered that the Fiscal Proctor, one of the key men responsible for prosecuting the case, apparently was a Guide.

  We know that through the Dark Ages to the Industrial Revolution, The Mission was based in Europe, most of the time in Italy. It exerted strong influence on the Roman Catholic Church, reaching its zenith during the Papal Inquisition.

  Domeka was the name of a Fiscal Proctor, an extremely powerful man who was instrumental in many key prosecutions designed to stem the growth of human knowledge.

  The Ones Who Wait counterattacked the power of The Mission in Europe, infiltrating the forces of both the Reformation and Counter-Reformation, which seriously weakened The Mission’s influence via Rome. Even more interestingly, The Ones Who Wait subverted The Mission in an area Domeka and his comrades never suspected—the arts. It is no coincidence that most great scientists who escaped the net of The Mission at this time were also artists first—such men as Da Vinci.

  However, Domeka—using various names—keeps reappearing throughout the history of The Mission. In Appendix 2 to the Crusades, Domeka is a key figure in forming several of the early crusades. The cross-reference in this instance is the emergence of Domeka as one of the early Spanish explorers in the New World. I found documentation that he accompanied Cortes during the conquest of Mexico. It must be remembered that King Montezuma greeted Cortes with the legend of Kon Tiki Viracocha (see ref. 6:32-4) weighing heavily on his mind. This led to the almost miraculous victory by Cortes and the conquering of Mexico City.

  {data degrades—retrieval failed}

  “This is most interesting,” Mualama said.

  The others in the room looked up from their copy of the downloaded document. “If The Mission influenced the Crusades, they might have had an ulterior motive,” Mualama continued.

  “Of course they did,” Duncan said. “They wanted to keep the human race in check.”

  “No.” Mualama shook his head. “I am speaking of something much more specific. Europeans going to the Holy Land—perhaps The Mission was searching for something?”

  A new voice came out of the speakerphone—Yakov’s deeply accented rumble. “And Kon Tiki Viracocha—the god that the Aymara in Tiahuanaco worshiped. Who was this Domeka? Was he Kon Tiki?”

  Duncan put down the printout. “This is more information that leads nowhere. We need information that tells us about the key and where it might be. Right now—”

  The door to the conference room opened and Mike Gordon stepped
in. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, sounding not sorry in the least. He waved a piece of paper at Duncan. “I thought you better see this right away.

  She took it and read it out loud. “‘Appendix Two, cross references The Mission and Domeka. Research reconstruction and field report. Dated ten, twenty-one, ninety-two by Coridan.

  “‘Overview: While recovering information about the Inquisition I pulled up a partial file about a figure named Domeka. No doubt a Guide who participated in the Crusades, the Inquisition, and the Spanish exploration/exploitation of the New World.

  “‘It is interesting to speculate that Domeka might not be one person but a reincarnation using a guardian imprint of the same mind on different subjects. Because the alternative—that the Domeka involved in these events is the same person—means that this individual has lived for over a thousand years, the latter figure devolved from the most recent revelation, that Domeka was a member of the Nazi party in the 1930s and a close confidant of the Fuhrer.

  “‘There is no doubt that The Mission was intimately involved in the Nazi death camps. Also, the numerous operations mounted by the Nazis that have a direct bearing on Airlia artifacts:

  “‘Bimini/Atlantis search by submarines, 1930s.

  “‘The Great Pyramid SS expedition, 1941.

  “‘Tunguska expedition, 1934.

  “‘The Spear of Destiny, also known among us as the key of destiny!’” Duncan’s voice rose on the last sentence.

  “Does it say where this Spear is?” Turcotte’s voice was as excited as hers. Duncan looked up from the paper at Gordon.

  He shook his head. “Data retrieval failed from that point on. We’re still looking through the rest of the hard drives.”

  “There might be another person—” Turcotte began, but Duncan’s mind had already raced to that conclusion.

  “Von Seeckt,” Duncan hissed as she threw the printout down on the conference table. “He knows more than he has told us.”

  Yakov’s bitter laughter came through the speaker. “I told you that you could not trust the Nazis.”

  Duncan stood. “Mike, get back here as soon as possible.”

  “Roger that,” Turcotte answered.

  “Major Quinn and Mr. Kincaid. I want to know more from the hard drives—anything at all about the Spear of Destiny or keys—and I want the medical evaluation of those bones, ASAP.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the two answered in unison.

  “Professor Mualama. If you could help our linguists decipher what is on the stone you brought, it would help tremendously.” She turned for the door. “Let’s move, people. The clock is ticking. I’m going to see von Seeckt.”

  D - 26 Hours, 40 Minutes

  Kelly Reynolds was more “alive” than she had been since she’d made contact with the guardian. It was as if the alien computer no longer needed her but didn’t want to discard her yet, just in case. The part of her mind that was still her self, her identity, found that darkly amusing, reminding Kelly of her mother, who could never throw anything out and as a result ended up with a garage full of items she might need someday but never did.

  Kelly didn’t think someday would come in this case either. The guardian was reaching into the world now, bringing what it needed to it. Kelly “knew” of the fate of the Washington, and the message the guardian had sent with her name on it.

  The guardian was doing thousands of things at once, absorbing information, giving commands, testing theories, planning actions, in communication with Mars. And Kelly knew that although it made human computers look likes abacuses in comparison, the guardian was still only a machine.

  So as it learned about humans through her, she learned about it.

  CHAPTER 16

  Stantsiya Chyort (Russian Area 51), Novaya Zemlya Island

  D - 26 Hours, 40 Minutes

  Yakov, Katyenka, and Turcotte braved the cold wind blowing off the Arctic Ocean and up the valley that held Stantsiya Chyort. The desolation of the site was reinforced by the shattered buildings. The bouncer waited nearby, ready to take them home.

  “Your Dr. Duncan is very aggressive.” Katyenka broke the silence. She had listened in on the SATPhone conference call to Area 51.

  “At least somebody is,” Turcotte said.

  Yakov had been quiet ever since they’d come up to the surface, but he finally spoke. “There is a possibility this Spear key might be here in Russia.”

  “Where?” Turcotte demanded.

  “If the Germans did find this key, then they probably would have had it in Berlin, and we overran Berlin at the end of the Great Patriotic War.”

  “Wouldn’t Section Four have gotten any Airlia artifacts?” Turcotte asked.

  “Not necessarily,” Yakov replied. “The KGB and GRU always accepted the tenet that knowledge is power. Knowledge about the Airlia and their artifacts is turning out to be the ultimate power, is it not? Even fifty years ago there were some in the KGB and GRU who were afraid of the power Section Four potentially wielded. What if Section Four discovered an alien weapon was a major concern. How would the balance of power be maintained?”

  “So the key might be in the hands of the KGB?” Turcotte impatiently asked. “Yes.” Yakov reached into his greatcoat and pulled out a flask. He offered it to Turcotte, who shook his head, then Katyenka, who took it.

  “Westerners do not understand the new Russia.” Yakov screwed the cap on the flask after she handed it back. “In many ways it is worse now than under the Communists. We had a system then, one that the people understood. Now there is chaos. We Russians have become capitalists.” He gave a bitter laugh. “So much so that the most powerful force in this country is the Mafia. Everyone is playing for a position, trying to get as much power as they can in the vacuum the overthrow of the communist regime left. So, given that, even if the FSB did have something, I have no idea where that material is now.”

  “Lyoncheka knows where the archive is,” Katyenka said. “He works out of FSB headquarters in Lubyanka.”

  “Then we must go to Moscow and talk to this fellow,” Yakov said. “It is as simple as that.”

  “We cannot fly into Moscow in that thing”—Katyenka nodded at the bouncer—“and expect to be able to accomplish our mission quietly.”

  “We will fly to an airfield outside the city, where I have a contact,” Yakov said. “He will get us into the city.” He turned to Katyenka. “Then I go into Lubyanka to visit this Lyoncheka.”

  Turcotte knew the name Lubyanka. During the Cold War, just the mention of the famed headquarters for the KGB on Red Square was enough to make prisoners break down.

  “Let me have a second,” Turcotte said. He walked away and pulled out his SATPhone. He dialed the number for the phone that had been assigned to Captain Billam and ODA 055.

  It was answered on the second ring. “Billam here.”

  “It’s Turcotte. I’m heading to Moscow, and Yakov is going into Lubyanka to talk to an FSB official. If he doesn’t come out, I’m going in after him. If I don’t come out, you come in after both of us.”

  Billam’s response was immediate. “You’re joking, right?”

  “I don’t joke, Captain.”

  “Lubyanka. FSB headquarters. In the middle of Moscow. Rescue you. Right. Got it.”

  “I’ll update you once we’re in Moscow.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Out here.”

  Turcotte flipped the phone shut and headed for the bouncer, remembering Duncan’s last words—she wanted him back at Area 51 as soon as possible and that time was running out. He didn’t think he should update her on this side trip. If the key was in Russia, then he would find it. She had enough on her mind right now. “Let’s get going.”

  Qian-Ling, China

  D - 26 Hours

  Che Lu had not worked on mathematics this hard since she had attended college over fifty years before. But there it was on the paper finally, the two sides of the equation she had worked out: transforming a twelve-digit system to
ten, and given the known on one side as the earth’s diameter—12,753 kilometers.

  The result was a number she hoped was the Airlia standard of measurement.

  Given that, she went to work on the next line on the notebook, which detailed a location using two variables. Nabinger’s notes indicated one variable was a measurement in Airlia units from the South Pole. The other was a longitude distance from a vertical line along the Earth’s surface, much like the 0-degree line that went through Greenwich, England; unfortunately, Nabinger didn’t write down what the Airlia 0-degree line was, if he had known it. Also, it went in increments of twelve, not ten.

  Still, though, as Che Lu thought about it, she realized she could come up with the set of numbers. Then she would have a definite latitude for each set of coordinates. Then it would be a question of maneuvering the longitude to knowns—and she had little doubt that Qian-Ling, Easter Island, and most likely the Giza Plateau were three of the sites listed.

  She went to work.

  Mars

  D - 24 Hours

  The steel point scraped against the reddish-brown rock, sliding a few millimeters before finding purchase. If this had been Earth, there would have been sparks and sound. But in the thin Martian atmosphere there was neither. The point was at the end of an articulated leg two meters long, one of eight that came out of a center pod.

  On both the top and bottom of the center pod were small globes at the end of a forty-millimeter stem, the sensors for the device allowing it 360 degrees of observation above and below.

  The legs continued their way along the surface until it reached the site. Following its orders, the mech/worker reached with its large grasping arm and picked up a boulder. Carefully balancing the rock, it slowly stalked across the Martian surface until it was over two kilometers away, then it dropped the burden. It was not alone, just one of thousands of similar devices, like an army of giant ants moving across the surface.

  It turned and went back the way it had come. And every ten minutes, another worker scurried out of a tunnel and joined the line of workers digging.

  Easter Island

  D - 22 Hours