‘And what do you know about military hardware?’ Trish said.
‘I did a stint in the Territorial Army, didn’t I? Besides which, I’ve seen films and programmes, and they looked well kitted out.’
‘I thought the TA was only for a month and then they kicked you out?’ Trish said in accusation. ‘You said you didn’t even get to hold a gun.’
‘Well, yeah, but they had catalogues and stuff. Look, I know they were some kind of elite unit, alright? Cheap hired guns don’t go zooming about in those types of vehicles and with that kind of get up; they had serious money behind them.’
‘He’s right,’ Sarah said.
‘Thank you!’ Jason raised his hand aloft while looking at Trish, triumphant his deduction had been recognised and supported.
Trish ignored him.
‘Did you see that bloke who was with them, that Italian in a suit?’ Sarah asked them. ‘They’ve got to be something to do with the Church.’
‘Church? What church, St Bartholomew’s near your flat?’ Jason said, confused.
‘Not the local church, you donkey,’ Trish said. ‘The Vatican.’ She looked at Sarah for confirmation. ‘You think they work for the Vatican, right?’
Sarah nodded. ‘It ties in with what my group have been saying for years. They keep their eyes open for anyone undertaking small digs, or large ones for that matter, and intervene when necessary. That explains his Italian accent, and the money they’d have behind such a scheme would be huge. Do you know how rich they are?’ Sarah said. She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘They’ve been around for over a thousand years. They’ve stockpiled precious art and artefacts. Destroyed books in their millions and waged war across continents. They predate the banks, stocks and companies themselves.
‘Who do you think invested in the first companies when they began to become powerful? The rich of the day, which included monarchs and – most definitely – the Catholic Church. They probably own some of the big multinationals along with other massive private companies we know nothing about. If there was ever any organisation capable and motivated to cover up this kind of thing, it’s them.’ Sarah slumped onto the bed looking deflated and morose; everything was stacked against them.
‘Perhaps they’ll miss something,’ Trish said. ‘We could just go back and pick it up later when they’ve gone.’
Jason’s snort of derision told her what he thought of that suggestion.
‘Well, have you got a better idea, then?’ Trish said angrily.
He bristled with defiance. ‘I do, as a matter of fact.’
‘And that is?’ she said, as he paused and rummaged about in his trouser pocket.
‘We could try and decipher this!’ He held up a crumpled bit of paper.
‘And what is that, a receipt for the dunce’s hat you bought last week?’ Trish said, her voice scathing.
Sarah sat up and looked at the piece of paper in Jason’s hand. ‘What’s that?’ she said, curious.
He crouched down at the foot of the bed and spread it out for them both to see.
Sarah couldn’t believe it. Jason had somehow got hold of a map similar to those she had found all those years ago, before they had been lost in the fire. It had the same intricate symbols dotted over its surface, although this one portrayed a more localised area rather than covering whole continents. It depicted a coastal land mass which covered nearly half the page, and it looked familiar somehow, but she didn’t know why.
‘I’ve seen this before,’ Jason said.
Sarah frowned. ‘That’s what I was just thinking. But I can’t place it.’
Trish came over to take a look. ‘I think I know why you both recognise it,’ she told them, after studying it for a moment.
‘Why?’ Jason said.
‘Because it’s been on the TV now for what seems like forever.’
They both looked at her with blank expressions.
‘It’s the damn impact zone; it’s the South African coastline, the eastern coast to be more precise.’
Sarah and Jason looked again. ‘She’s only flippin’ right,’ he said in amazement. ‘It’s South Africa!’
‘What I want to know is how you got this out without them finding it?’ Trish asked him. ‘I saw them search you thoroughly; unless,’ – her nose wrinkled in distaste – ‘you stuck it somewhere I don’t want to know about.’
Sarah moved her hands away from the map’s surface.
Jason saw the movement and looked from Trish to Sarah and back to Trish again. ‘What? – NO!’ he said. ‘I didn’t stick it up my arse. Blimey, I think they may have noticed me doing that when they turned up. Hang on, lads; turn around, will you, while I stick this ancient map up my bum hole.’
Trish made a face.
‘So how did you spirit it out of there, then?’ Sarah asked him.
‘You know before they put us in the car I attacked Carl?’
‘Yeah, when he kicked your arse, you mean,’ Trish said.
Ignoring her, Jason continued. ‘Well, I slipped it out of his pocket during the scuffle. That was my intention all along. It was worth it,’ he said, rubbing his shoulder, ‘just.’
‘Oh, Jas, that’s fantastic! I could kiss you. In fact, I will kiss you.’ Sarah got up and planted one on his forehead.
Jason blushed and grinned foolishly while Trish looked on stony-faced. ‘You got lucky,’ she said. ‘What if he notices it’s missing? What then, smart arse?’
Jason’s face dropped a little. ‘He hasn’t, so far, has he? Otherwise they’d be here, now, doing us over again.’ He paused and then looked around, his eyes wary. ‘Unless they’re listening in on us right now ready to strike—’
Sarah and Trish looked at one another in alarm and then peered around the room as Jason tiptoed over to the door, opened it and peeked into the corridor.
‘HOLY SHIT!’ Terrified, he leapt back, making Trish scream and Sarah jump up from the bed.
But when no armed men came swarming into the room Jason shut the door, unable to keep up his pretence any longer. ‘The look on both your faces!’ He pointed at them, in fits of laughter. ‘I almost pissed myself.’
‘You fucking bastard,’ Trish shouted at him and went over and punched him hard on the arm.
‘Ow!’ he said, scowling at her before looking at Sarah. ‘That was a good one, though, wasn’t it, Saz?’
Sarah grinned at him. ‘Yes, very good. I’ll have to get you back for it, though.’
‘Don’t encourage him,’ Trish said, ‘he’s bad enough as it is.’
But Sarah wasn’t listening; she’d gone back to studying the map.
Trish looked over her shoulder. ‘What’s that?’ she said, and touched the larger pendant that hung in front of the smaller one around Sarah’s neck.
Sarah had forgotten all about it after everything that had happened. She unclipped her new find and opened the end, then teased out the paper hidden inside. As she unfurled it she noticed it felt similar in texture to the map Jason had pick-pocketed from Carl. Incredibly, it spread out to a substantial size. It felt thick to the touch, but flexing it she could tell it was much thinner than normal paper. It was unlike anything she had felt before, including Jason’s map.
‘Where did you get that from?’ Jason said in amazement. He picked up the pendant and examined it.
‘I found it in a weird metal canister I discovered before we were hit by those goons. This was the only thing I had a good look at and luckily they didn’t spot it.’
‘They nearly did, though, didn’t they?’ Trish said, remembering.
‘Yeah, it was a pretty close call. As soon as I saw all those cars I knew something was up, so I quickly clipped this new pendant on my chain and it settled nicely on top of my other one. Carl just assumed it was the one he’d seen me wearing before. I completely forgot about it until you just noticed it, I was so tired and exhausted during the walk it just left my mind.’
‘I just thought it was odd,’ Trish said. ‘I looked over
your shoulder and saw two pendants rather than just one.’ Trish accepted the pendant from Jason for a closer inspection. ‘Now I know what I’m looking at, I can see this new one is a bit bigger and it’s got designs on it, too, plus this little compartment; intriguing.’
‘Let’s have a look then,’ Jason said to Sarah, who was now staring at the new parchment intently. It appeared to be a page of text. She laid it out next to the map so they could all see.
‘Has anyone noticed that these parchments are not faded or degraded in any way?’ Trish said, feeling each one in turn. ‘They look like they were made yesterday.’
She’s right, Sarah thought to herself. The parchments, for want of a better word, had neither faded nor cracked. They looked brand new, although made of some light brown material that wasn’t skin, paper or anything else she recognised. The quality of the printing, as that’s almost what it looked like, was extremely high; however, the faint marks and flicks of the instrument that had created them could be seen, indicating they’d been drawn by hand. Curious, Sarah thought, utterly fascinated.
Three principal colours, grey, white and a light green, dominated the designs. The symbols were fine and intricate, similar to a modern alphabet, although there didn’t seem to be a strict order to them.
‘These can only be the work of Homo gigantis,’ Sarah said, tracing the obscure script with a finger.
‘You think?’ Trish said.
‘Why not? It stands to reason; they were found near the skeleton and at about the same depth. The map carries the same markings as the ones I found previously in roughly the same area. This text doesn’t look like anything I have ever seen before, though. It’s clearly an alphabetical system rather than pictogrammatical, which rules out ancient human civilisations; plus if this is handwritten, which it looks like it is, then look at the spacing and size of the letters – a large hand wrote this, don’t you agree?’
‘I suppose,’ Trish said. ‘Given what I’ve seen in the last few days I would be inclined to lean towards your theory.’
‘Theory? How else can you explain it? The skeleton, maps, casket, pendant, the military intervention and cover up?’
‘I can’t, Sarah, but that doesn’t mean you’re right, it just means I can’t think of an alternative reason; they’re too different things entirely.’
Sarah didn’t say anything as she knew Trish would play devil’s advocate until the cows came home, but she was convinced. Add all this to the other historical evidence and accounts made by her friends, and it was just too conclusive.
‘My pendants and past discoveries, and our first-hand experience of the skeleton, can only mean that Homo gigantis evolved hundreds of thousands years ago,’ Sarah said, unable to contain herself any longer, ‘and all evidence of their existence has been swept under the carpet by the Catholic Church, and God knows who else, over the last millennium or more. Add to that these parchments and clearly they were extremely well advanced. They had an alphabet, they could cast metal objects with an accuracy that matches anything we can do today, and whatever these parchments are made of seems to be age resistant.’
‘Skeletons,’ Jason said.
Confused, Sarah just stared at him. ‘What?’
‘You said skeleton,’ he told her, ‘when there were two – so skeletons, plural.’
‘What are you going on about?’ Trish said, exasperated.
‘I’m saying there were two fucking skeletons and not one, what do you think I’m saying?’
‘Two, how did that happen? No one mentioned two before!’ Sarah said, looking at Trish accusingly.
‘Don’t look at me, I didn’t know, this is the first I’ve heard of it.’
‘Just as the men were pulling up,’ Jason said, ‘me and prick face Carl had just unearthed the edge of another skull close to the feet of the first. I was going to take some pictures when everything went pear-shaped.’
‘Why didn’t you tell us before?’ Trish asked him.
‘I only just thought of it. We’re not all perfect like you, are we?’
Trish gave him the finger.
‘Hang on a minute,’ Sarah said. ‘Where did the map come from, then, the one you got from Carl?’
‘Dunno. From your casket, maybe? I saw him look at it and then stuff it in his pocket, so I thought I’m gonna have that, you two-faced git.’
‘One of the men that grabbed me must have passed it to him – the bastards,’ Sarah said, before going back to studying the second parchment.
The ancient material measured about twice the size of an A4 piece of paper. A faint, indented circle sat in the top right corner. She looked at the map; that had one, too, the same size and in the same place. She felt it with her thumb and the page shimmered and the text changed.
She yanked her hand away in astonishment. ‘What the—?’
Trish and Jason, who had been looking at the map, glanced up at her. ‘What is it, Saz?’ Trish said.
‘Did you see that? It just changed. The text just altered!’ She stared in shock at the page before her.
‘What? What do mean, changed? Jason said, confused.
‘I put my finger on that circle and it changed the text on the page.’
Jason reached out and touched it. Nothing happened. Seeing the same sunken circle on the map, he touched that too; still nothing. Trish did the same, to no avail.
Sarah touched the page once more in the same place and … nothing.
‘It moved, I’m not imagining it,’ she said, seeing Trish and Jason exchange looks.
‘Perhaps it was the sunlight making it look like the text changed,’ Jason said.
‘Or you blinked, or your eyes went blurry; mine do that sometimes when I’m tired,’ Trish added.
‘I’m not tired, I didn’t blink and it wasn’t the damn sun. I’m telling you the text changed when I touched it.’
‘So why didn’t it do it again?’ Trish said, her tone soothing as she tried to calm Sarah’s growing frustration.
Jason gestured at the parchment. ‘Perhaps you pressed it harder the first time?’
Sarah pressed her thumb harder on the circle and again nothing happened. She rubbed it. Licked her finger and then pressed it, tapped it, scratched it, all to no avail. She threw her hands up in exasperation.
‘What exactly were you doing when it happened?’ Jason said. He made a face at Trish, whose expression indicated he shouldn’t pursue it any further.
Sarah thought for a minute. ‘I was just sitting here holding the parchment in one hand – no, wait, I was holding this pendant in one hand,’ – she picked up the newly found pentagonal disc – ‘and I touched the page with my thumb like this and—’ The text on the page shimmered once more and a new set displayed in its place. ‘It changed again! Did you see it?!’
‘Bloody Ada, it did change, I saw it!’ Jason said, flabbergasted.
Trish gaped at the page in sheer disbelief. ‘Are you friggin’ kidding me?’
Sarah pressed it again, and again, and each time what appeared to be a fresh page of text revealed itself.
‘It’s bloody magic,’ Jason said in awe.
‘More like a super sophisticated digital display,’ Sarah said.
‘But it’s so thin,’ Trish murmured.
‘Perhaps it uses nano machines or something,’ Jason said. ‘They say the military have been using things like that for years.’
‘Perhaps, but whatever it is, it’s mind blowing.’ Sarah couldn’t take her eyes off it. ‘Surely this proves they were advanced, and way beyond us, by the look of it. What do you think now, Trish?’
Trish nodded her head in agreement, dumbfounded by this new turn of events.
‘Try it on the map,’ Jason said, eager to see more.
Sarah pulled over the map and, holding the pendant in her left hand, she put her thumb on the circle. The map didn’t move or alter in any way.
Disappointed, she put the pendant down.
‘Perhaps the power’s run out?’ J
ason said.
‘Don’t be stupid,’ Trish told him.
‘Why not? The other one only worked when Sarah held the pendant, perhaps that powers the paper?’
It’s a fair point, Sarah thought. The pendant might be some kind of sophisticated power source worn around a person’s neck to enable them to activate all sorts of gizmos, including this display. She wondered what other fantastical treasures had been contained in the casket. She made the writing change again, this time with her index finger, showing that the power – if that’s what it was – still worked. So why doesn’t it work on the map? she asked herself.
‘Perhaps it’s not a power source at all,’ she said to them, turning the pentagonal pendant over in her hands, ‘perhaps it uses our bioelectricity to activate the parchment. It makes sense; if it’s only to channel the body’s own electricity then the battery never runs out. It would be an amazing piece of tech, no?’
The two looked at her expectantly.
‘So—’ she continued, eager to keep the ideas flowing, ‘if I was a very big person, I would have more electricity in my body and consequently I could power bigger and more complex things. How much would someone measuring eight and a half feet weigh, roughly?’ she asked Trish, who was the maths wiz.
‘If it was an average male, perhaps four to five hundred pounds? A female, anywhere from three-fifty to four hundred and fifty?’
‘That would be one big woman,’ Jason said, ‘she’d be the size of a house!’
‘She wouldn’t be overweight,’ Trish said, ‘far from it, she’d be in perfect proportion for her species. It may sound excessive,’ she continued, ‘but eight and a half feet is massive. Think about it. She’d be three foot taller than your average woman, that’s half as tall again. But unlike height, weight is effectively measuring three dimensional volume so even though the height is half as much the volume is magnitudes greater, about three times greater in this instance.’
Jason didn’t look convinced.
Trish sighed. ‘It’s simple mechanics. The bigger the animal, the bigger and stronger the muscles required to support it. Think of an elephant and how big their limbs are; same principle. Homo gigantis may appear stockier than ourselves, granted, but not massively so. In fact, if their muscles were much denser than ours, like that of an ape, for instance, they might have body shapes resembling our own, just scaled up.’
Revelations Page 13
