The Templar's Quest

by C. M. Palov

  ‘According to our scan, it’s a layered configuration, a lapis lazuli stone embedded in the centre. We have yet to determine the material used in the insulating second layer.’

  ‘Blue, of course, is the colour ascribed to Isis, Queen of the Heavens. Prized by the Egyptians for its unique hue, the stone was used as a protective talisman, a lapis lazuli scarab often buried with the dead to guard them in the afterlife.’

  Kate gently nudged him with her elbow. ‘And, like the quartz crystal, lapis lazuli has a high resonance frequency.’

  Cædmon took the nudge as a silent caution to keep the conversation grounded in the scientific and not veer off on to the esoteric realm.

  Right.

  Taking his cues from Kate, he made a quick course correction. ‘As I recall from a long-ago physics lesson, high resonance frequency has to do with the stone’s accumulated vibrational energy.’ He glanced at the clock mounted on the wall. Eleven minutes left. How can I possibly stop the Vril generation from taking place in the few minutes remaining?

  Jaw clamped tight, Cædmon refocused his attention on the Grail.

  Think, man, think.

  ‘Doctor Uhlemann, I’m curious about the relationship between the Vril Generator and the monuments on the Axe Historique,’ Kate ventured politely. ‘Specifically, I’m wondering how the Louvre Pyramid figures into the equation.’

  Hearing this, Cædmon whipped his head in Kate’s direction. The ‘second stone’. Of course! That was it!

  Kate, you’re brilliant.

  He gave her an answering nudge, signalling that, while late to the game, he now understood.

  ‘As you know, each monument on the Axe Historique has a purpose. The obelisk functions as a radio tower, drawing down the astral energy from Sirius, and the three arches channel the earth’s telluric energy. The glass pyramid serves as a counterbalance to the pyramidal Lapis Exillis.’ With his laser light pen, Dr Uhlemann pointed to the Grail. ‘Perfect symmetry.’

  ‘I concur. However …’ Cædmon paused, ensuring that he had the other man’s full attention before he dropped the bombshell. ‘That is precisely why your Vril Generator is a flawed design.’

  The elder German’s eyes narrowed dangerously, like Zeus about to hurl a lightning bolt.

  ‘Anyone who’s been to the Cour Napoléon knows that there are two notable pyramids on the eastern end of the Axe Historique,’ Cædmon continued, bracing himself for a full-out Titanomachy. ‘The famous upright glass pyramid and La Pyramide Inversée, the inverted pyramid.’

  ‘Which is only visible below ground,’ Kate emphasized. ‘In fact, most people strolling in the courtyard are unaware of its existence.’

  ‘The Pyramid Inversée is the unseen twin. As above, so below. That, old boy, is perfect symmetry. Not this asymmetrical configuration that you’ve patched together,’ Cædmon derided. Then, going for the jugular, he said, ‘The Vril Generator is not going to work … you’re missing the second pyramidal stone.’

  84

  0621 hours

  Yes! Two stones! Message sent and received.

  Sagging against her chair, Kate released a pent-up breath.

  ‘Furthermore, I strongly urge you to immediately deconstruct the Vril Generator. And do hurry.’ Cædmon jutted his chin at the clock hanging on the wall. ‘You have only nine minutes to avert disaster.’

  ‘I refuse to countenance this preposterous claim!’

  Kate anxiously glanced between the two men. She’d spent hours poring over books in the upstairs library, trying to find the fatal flaw in Dr Uhlemann’s design concept. Since he was a man of science, they had to sway his mind. Not his heart. If he even possessed one of those.

  ‘The blueprint on the Axe Historique is clear: Two pyramidal stones are required on each end of the axis.’ Undaunted, Cædmon put his left hand on her shoulder and said, ‘Kate, would you do the honours and sketch the correct design for Doctor Uhlemann?’ His face drained of colour, Cædmon drew her attention to the small puddle of blood on the floor next to his chair, his right jacket sleeve stained a deep burgundy. ‘Afraid that I’m not up to the task.’

  Biting back a commiserating whimper, Kate got up from her chair and walked over to the chalkboard.

  As she limned the geometric configuration, she had to stop several times and take a stabilizing breath. It was a desperate gamble, trying to persuade a mad scientist to adopt the sane course of action. But what else could they do? They had no guns. No reinforcements. And no contingency plan should they fail. They had to prove that the generator was imperfectly configured. There was no other way to stop Ivo Uhlemann from changing the course of history.

  In truth, she didn’t know if the generator design was actually flawed. They just had to convince Dr Uhlemann of that fact. Worried she might not be persuasive enough, she would leave it to Cædmon to explain the drawing.

  Craning her neck, Kate peered at the clock. Seven minutes. And counting.

  Finished, she placed the piece of white chalk on the metal ledge beneath the board. Please, please, please! she silently begged of any god who would listen, Make this work.

  ‘Two pyramidal stones placed in this configuration form an octahedron, a Platonic solid comprised of eight equilateral triangles, four of which meet at each vertex,’ Cædmon iterated, getting right to the gist. ‘An octahedron would allow for each quartz crystal terminator point to transmit directly into the apex of a pyramidal stone. Point to point. It’s counter-intuitive. Your design is clearly defective. What you have here –’ raising his left arm, Cædmon pointed to the Grail on the other side of the glass partition – ‘is half of an octahedron.’

  ‘Which makes it half-ass in my book,’ Finn sneered, having been noticeably quiet.

  ‘The Vril Generator must be reconfigured,’ Cædmon insisted doggedly. ‘This is a flawed design that could have catastrophic consequences. My guess is a massive explosion due to the energy build-up.’

  Clearly unmoved by Cædmon’s argument, Dr Uhlemann tersely shook his head. ‘The only way to determine if the Vril Generator works is to proceed with the experiment.’

  ‘In addition to white marble, the Grande Arche building was constructed with vast quantities of granite rock. Granite, as you undoubtedly know, is a transmission stone. It’s also slightly radioactive. Moreover, the Axe Historique is built over limestone bedrock which creates a natural water aquifer.’

  Realizing where Cædmon was headed, Kate said, ‘And when water moves through limestone, it produces an electric charge.’

  ‘The Earth’s electromagnetic field is most powerful just before dawn,’ Cædmon stated, elaborating on her point. ‘Since the Axe Historique has never been used to fuse astral and telluric energies to create the Vril force, you could well be playing with a fire that you won’t be able to control. This is a technology that has not been used since the days of the pharaohs. Have you considered the possibility that there might be a deadly reason why?’

  ‘Your question lacks merit and has no bearing on das Groß Versuch,’ Dr Uhlemann bristled.

  Kate clasped her hands to her chest. ‘I implore you, Doctor Uhlemann. Any other scientist would cancel the experiment rather than court disaster.’

  ‘I will not postpone das Groß Versuch.’

  ‘Even if you destroy half of Paris in the process?’

  Dr Uhlemann shot Cædmon a withering glance. ‘The only thing that we intend to destroy are the dark forces of German history.’

  ‘And here all along I thought you guys were the dark force of German history,’ Finn deadpanned. ‘I get all of you goose-stepping rat bastards mixed up.’

  The older German blanched at the crude insult.

  Snarling, Angelika shoved her gun muzzle against Finn’s temple. ‘I would be happy to show you the difference.’

  ‘Do you mind if I take a rain check? The show’s about to begin and I’m really looking forward to seeing what all the hoopla’s about. There’s only a few things in this world that make me go ga-ga
.’ Point made, Finn purposefully looked over at Kate. And smiled wistfully.

  Oh, Finn … You brash, beautiful man.

  Feeling the sting of tears, Kate glanced anxiously at the clock. Six minutes until the heliacal rising of Sirius. If the Vril Generator didn’t work, something disastrous could happen. But, on the other hand, if it did work, they could all end up living in a fascist regime ruled by an ego-maniacal mad man. Both prospects incited a dread fear.

  ‘You’re dealing with cosmic forces that no one fully comprehends,’ Cædmon asserted. ‘There’s a very real possibility that a catastrophic event will occur.’

  Expressionless, Ivo Uhlemann shrugged. ‘According to my oncologist, I’m not long for this world. Death, like the speed of light, is one of the few unchanging constants in the Universe. That said, we constructed the Vril Generator according to the instructions in the Ghayat al-Hakim. It will work.’

  ‘While I haven’t read the Arabic original, I have read Picatrix, the Latin translation,’ Cædmon counterpunched, refusing to surrender the field. ‘It’s a magical grimoire composed in metaphoric and symbolic language that can easily be misinterpreted. In my experience, when one dives into the occult, the waters turn very murky very quickly.’

  ‘I am a scientist, not an occultist!’

  ‘Anyone familiar with the history of the Nazi movement knows that the occult strain ran deep in its ranks. I find it hard to believe that you would stray far from those beliefs.’

  ‘How dare you!’ Dr Uhlemann physically recoiled, as though he’d just been splashed with acid. ‘The occultists are no different to those addicted to the crutch of organized religion. They should all be led to the nearest funeral pyre.’

  ‘As I recall, your Führer once claimed that “A new age of magic interpretation of the world is coming”.’

  ‘Pure poppycock!’ Dr Uhlemann exclaimed angrily. ‘They ruined our perfect society. The one that we worked so hard to achieve. For them, everything had a mystical implication. Even the initials SS had a magical meaning.’

  ‘The word “Schutzstaffel” means special staff.’ Cædmon’s brows drew together in a questioning pucker. ‘What in God’s name is magical about that?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing. However, those two initials also stand for “schwarz sonne ”.’

  ‘Ah! Of course. The Black Sun,’ Cædmon translated. ‘Also known as Sirius. Which, coincidentally, is due to rise at any moment.’

  The irony of the addendum was lost on Dr Uhlemann.

  ‘They worshipped their Black Sun like a coven of superstitious pagans. There were officers in the SS who thought they could win the war with Ouija boards and Runic magic. Outright quackery is what it was. How educated men could fall victim to such outlandish delusions is truly astonishing.’

  ‘Not so astonishing given that many in the Nazi high command dabbled in the dark arts.’ With only four minutes left, Cædmon was still grounded, still steady at the helm.

  ‘They did more than dabble. They were brainwashed devotees, Hitler their prophet and Himmler their high priest,’ Dr Uhlemann said accusingly. ‘In the end, their minds had become unhinged, corrupted by occult lunacies. Is there any wonder that we lost the war?’

  ‘Most historians would agree that their occultism proved a fatal idée fixe.’

  Dr Uhlemann concurred with a vigorous nod. ‘That is the reason why our fathers will rid the German high command of this dangerous occult element. Once that is done, the way will be paved to immediately begin the military campaign in the Middle East.’

  ‘But, as you said, Hitler himself was a member of this esoteric coven.’ Cædmon frowned, clearly perplexed. ‘How are you going to persuade him that science is superior to magic?’

  ‘We have no intention of persuading him … we intend to assassinate Adolf Hitler.’

  Hearing that, Kate’s eyes opened wide. The moment, indeed, the entire situation, had just turned unbelievably surreal.

  ‘Or, rather, my father and his colleagues in the Seven will have the honour of committing the regicide,’ Dr Uhlemann clarified.

  If Cædmon was surprised by the announcement, he hid it well. ‘There were many attempts on Hitler’s life, most of them plotted by members of the Nazi Party. How can you be so sure that your attempt will succeed?’

  ‘To use an oft-repeated cliché, hindsight is twenty-twenty vision,’ Dr Uhlemann informed him. ‘We know that the Führer and the occult members of his inner circle will all be in attendance at the 1940 Schutzstaffel Christmas party. The festivities will be held at the Löwenbräu Keller in Munich. We have put together a detailed assassination plan which we will transmit to our fathers via our CTC device. Trust me … no one will leave the Löwenbräu Keller alive.’

  ‘Damned diabolical,’ Cædmon muttered. ‘Part of me actually hopes that you succeed.’

  Dolf Reinhardt suddenly stepped forward. Eyes glistening with unshed tears, he shook with a barely restrained emotion.

  ‘Nein! Nein! Nein!’

  85

  0628 hours

  ‘Obviously, someone forgot to send Cue Ball the “Kill Hitler” memo,’ Finn muttered under his breath.

  ‘What is happening here?’ the chauffeur bellowed. ‘Has everyone lost their mind?’

  ‘If you cannot control yourself, Dolf, you will have to leave the room,’ Uhlemann threatened in a patronizing tone, speaking to the big goon as though he were a six-year-old child. ‘It’s obvious that you’re confused.’

  ‘I want you to answer my question, Herr Doktor! What is happening here!?’ Wide-eyed, Dolf clutched the Ruger P89 to his chest; his very own nine-mil teddy bear.

  Finn glanced at the clock. Fuck. Two minutes until sunrise. Aisquith was convinced the design flaw in the Vril Generator would cause an explosion due to an energy build-up. Add to that the six pipe bombs stashed next door in the maintenance engineering room and they’d all be blown to Sirius and back.

  Determined to go down fighting, Finn swung his head in Aisquith’s direction, silently signalling to the Brit that he had a plan. He then looked over at the bewildered bald dude.

  ‘Not only are you confused, but you are definitely out of the loop,’ Finn told the chauffeur, hoping to stoke him into shutting down the show. A lame duck, if he so much as lifted his ass off the chair, Angelika would put a bullet right between his eyes. ‘Here’s the simplified version. The star Sirius is due to appear in the dawn sky in two minutes. When that happens, your boss is gonna use the astral energy from the star to generate the Vril force. That’s a kind of fused energy that emits a blue light. Uhlemann needs that blue light to open a hole in the space–time continuum so he can travel back to the year 1940 and kill Adolf Hitler.’

  ‘Is this true, Herr Doktor?’ The chauffeur’s expression of disbelief was almost comical.

  Clearly outraged by the insurrection, Uhlemann shot his subordinate a glacial stare, refusing to answer.

  ‘It’s true, Dolf,’ Kate volunteered, her features stamped with abject fear. ‘Doctor Uhlemann showed me the time machine.’

  To say that Dolf was crestfallen would be putting it mildly; tears were running down his cheeks and snot was dripping from his nose.

  ‘My mother was the Führer’s little handmaid,’ the big slobbering bastard rasped in a hoarse voice. ‘My grandfather was his chauffeur.’

  ‘Hitler’s chauffeur? No shit. I’m impressed,’ Finn lied. ‘I’m guessing he was in the SS, right?’

  Wiping a ribbon of snot with the back of his hand, the other man nodded. ‘He was an officer in the Reich Security Service.’

  Realizing that was the perfect segue, Finn, winging it all the way, said, ‘So it’s a given that he would have driven the Führer to the Christmas party in 1940. The two of them probably sang a couple of rounds of “Silent Night” on the way to the big shindig. Once they get there, your grandfather will be having a good time, drinking a little eggnog, then Kaboom! Silent night. Auf wiedersehen. You heard Uhlemann; no one is gonna leave the Löwenbrä
u Keller alive. Helluva way to go.’

  The realization that his own grandfather would be killed in the planned massacre suddenly dawned in Dolf’s watery eyes. In that instant, he went from confused lapdog to snarling Rottweiler. Teeth clenched, he aimed the Ruger P89 at his master’s head. ‘How could you destroy my family like this? I sacrificed everything for you.’

  Proving that he was an old-school Prussian, Uhlemann glared at his rabid dog. Unbowed and unafraid.

  ‘Hah! What did you sacrifice?’ Angelika jeered. ‘A few dinners with your old mutti?’

  ‘Leave my mother out of this!’

  ‘This is sheer idiocy. Give me the gun.’ A leather-clad dominatrix, Angelika stomped her booted foot imperiously on the floor. ‘Now!’

  ‘Nein!’ Dolf abruptly changed targets, Ruger now aimed directly at Angelika’s head. ‘Shut up, bitch! You’re always telling me what to do!’

  Well, well, well … Sounds like the two winged monkeys have some wicked bad history. Finn just hoped he didn’t get caught in their crossfire.

  Changing tactics, Angelika’s sneer instantly morphed into a smile. A come-hither invite that oozed sex like a volcano oozing molten lava. ‘I can make all of your dreams come true, Dolf. You know the kind of dreams I’m talking about … those naughty dreams that you have in the middle of the night.’ Her gaze slowly travelled down Cue Ball’s chest to his crotch.

  Teary eyes narrowed furiously. ‘Slut!’

  ‘If you want me to be.’ Still smiling, and still holding the HK semi to Finn’s head, Angelika held out her left hand and wiggled her fingers. ‘Dolfie, give me the gun. If you don’t, I will tell your mutti that you were a very bad boy.’

  ‘I told you not to mention my mother!’ Last Rites administered, ‘Dolfie’ pulled the trigger.

  Before the blonde bitch even hit the deck, Finn cannonballed out of his chair and hurled himself at the bald-headed gunman … who now had his weapon trained on Ivo Uhlemann.

  In a fast wham-bam move, Finn, attacking from behind, cinched his left hand around Dolf’s thick neck. With his right, he knocked the gun loose. Two pounds of stainless steel thudded on to the concrete floor, the impact causing a round to discharge. Galvanized, Finn secured his right hand on the other side of the big man’s neck. And squeezed like hell.