“I don’t hear anything. You’d think there would be some kind of sound, even if it were behind a wall.”
Caesare considered it. “If there are no machines, then where’s the power source? What’s keeping all of this cold? And what’s causing the glow? A chemical reaction?”
“That would last this long? You’d have to add more chemicals, but these tubes look like they’re sealed on both ends.”
The four fanned out quietly, examining more of the columns. A few minutes later, Borger called out from the other side of the room. They ran to find him back near the door in the cliff.
“Look at this!”
They peered down at the floor near his feet and could see a faint jagged etching through the dust, making its way to the door.
“What is it?”
Borger touched his finger to it then raised his hand and sniffed. “I think it’s water.”
They turned around and traced the tiny stream back to one of the nearby tubes.”
“Is it leaking?!”
Clay crouched down and checked the glass. “I don’t think so. In fact,” he stood up, looking all the way to the top, “I don’t think it’s the fluid at all.” He spotted a tiny flash near the ceiling. “I think the water found a way inside this cavern, and it’s dripping down this tube and onto the floor; then it trails to the door.”
“I think you’re right.” Borger careened his neck to the ceiling until he saw the same reflection from a drop of falling water. “That’s how it’s seeping back outside and changing the soil.”
Both Clay and Borger observed a tiny flash emitted near the top of the tube each time a drop of water hit the glass.
Alison stared through the tube nearest to her. “So, maybe this glowing liquid is some kind of power source. Or maybe some kind of nutrient.”
“Or maybe it’s both.”
“Hey,” Caesare called from behind them, “come take a look at this.”
They found him a few aisles over, examining some of the spheres. “Take a look at these bubbles right here, closest to the edge. Tell me what they look like to you.”
As soon as they saw what Caesare was pointing at, the others froze.
“Oh my gosh,” Alison whispered. “Those look like some kind of embryos!”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
Instinctively, they all took a step back and scanned the glowing room with a very different expression. One by one, they backed up, retreating toward the door. When they reached it, they made sure it was still open and remained near the exit.
“Alison,” Clay spoke softly. “How old do you think this place is?”
“I have no idea.”
“Just a ballpark.”
She shrugged. “Well, judging from how worn the boulders are outside and the amount of undisturbed dust inside, I’d say pretty old. I don’t think this thing has been opened for hundreds of years, maybe thousands.”
“Will and Steve, in your opinion, is there any possibility that something like this could have been made by us?”
Caesare looked at Borger then shook his head. “Are you kidding?”
Clay nodded pensively. “So, does anyone believe this place is not storing an extraordinary amount of DNA material?”
“DNA that doesn’t belong to us,” added Caesare.
Borger gasped. “Holy cow! It’s another vault!”
“What do you mean ‘another’ vault?”
“I mean the seed vault. In Norway. On the island!” Borger gave them a sarcastic stare when he saw their questioning faces. “You don’t know about the seed vault? The Global Seed Vault! It’s a large complex on a Norwegian island that has been stockpiling copies of seeds for years, from all over the world.”
“Why?”
“To protect them in the event of a major catastrophe. It’s got something like a hundred thousand different seeds, all from different continents. The complex was supposedly built to last hundreds of years.” Borger waved his arms emphatically in front of himself. “That’s what this is! It’s another vault!”
“Whose vault?”
Borger turned to Clay. “Well, clearly not ours. Someone else. An alien race.”
“Another alien race?”
“Why not?” Borger asked. “Remember what Palin said. The amount of water that Earth has is not common, which makes us stand out to anyone who can see us. Like a beacon.”
Alison frowned. “But why would some alien race put copies of their seeds on Earth?”
“The same reason as us,” Borger replied. “In case of a catastrophe. But right now, we can’t go very far. They can. And if you’re going to locate a seed vault anywhere, I’m guessing you’d want to do it on a planet that you knew could sustain you.”
Everyone turned back to the columns in front of them.
Alison broke the silence with a whisper. “So what do we do now?” She looked back and forth between the three men, none of whom answered. “Guys?”
To her right both Caesare and Borger finally shrugged. She looked to her left. “John?
Clay blinked but continued staring, transfixed.
“John?”
Quietly, he inhaled then spoke under his breath without taking his eyes away. “Beware of the leap.”
“Huh?”
“Beware of the leap,” he repeated, louder.
“What leap?”
“It’s what Palin said to me before we came back through.”
Caesare looked at him curiously. “What does it mean?”
“We’ve seen what those plants can do. Which was probably nothing compared to the water itself.” He turned to the others. “And that water is only touching the glass in here. What do you think the solution inside those tubes is capable of?”
No one answered.
“We could be talking about something so far beyond our current abilities and understanding that it would seem like magic.” Clay scanned the entire room again. “Commander Lawton was so amazed by the DNA in those plants that she was sure countries would go to war over it. How far would they go over something like this?”
Caesare squinted at Clay. “All the way.”
Clay stood thinking. “You’re right. So, the question is how many lives is it worth? A thousand? A million?”
“There could be a lot of good,” Borger offered.
“Would it be worth it, Will?”
Borger shrugged.
“Would those who died still think it was worth it?” Clay sighed. “A lot of advancements are vindicated as the cost of progress. But it’s an easy question when you’re only asking the survivors, isn’t it?”
They continued to watch Clay, each of them silently thinking.
“Who knows what would be unleashed from these things. Or from the DNA they’re protecting.”
“It’s a sleeping giant,” said Caesare.
Clay looked at them, gravely. “Who thinks we should find out?”
When no one raised their hand, he looked back up at the nearest tube. The glowing green mixture struck him as having an odd beauty about it. In the end, Palin had tried to warn them about what they might find. About wisdom. How often did humans really learn? What about governments?
“So what do we do?” asked Alison. “It won’t be long before people start showing up.”
Clay’s voice dropped almost to a whisper. “I say we leave it alone.”
“Someone else will find it, John.”
“Not if we bury it.”
Caesare raised an eyebrow. “Bury it? Bury it with what?”
Clay turned and peered outside. The rain was still pouring. “Didn’t our Chinese friends leave some bulldozers behind?”
Caesare stared at him. “John, we can’t bury the whole damn cliff.”
“We don’t have to,” he replied with eyes still fixed outside. “We only need to bury the sign posts. Or better yet, remove the boulders.”
“Then how will whoever put it here find it, assuming they ever come back for it?”
Clay fr
owned. “If we don’t hide it, there might not be anything for them to come back for.”
72
It didn’t take long. Two of the earth movers were still operational. Moving only a few pieces from each of the three boulder groups, their shapes appeared as random as any of the others.
After redirecting the water leak, and with another press of their makeshift magnet against the wall, the heavy door clicked and slid smoothly back into place. The vertical seams appeared to change very little, with only small jagged pieces missing from the separation. Ironically, it made the cliff face look more natural than it had before.
When the four returned to the helicopter, they were soaking wet. They smiled when they stepped inside to find Dulce awake, lying against DeeAnn. Even as tired as the small gorilla was, her warm eyes managed to open wider when she spotted Caesare.
No one said anything. From the chair, DeeAnn observed the faces of the others and decided she didn’t want to know what they’d been doing outside. She just wanted to leave.
She had been through hell. But she still had Dulce. And she and Juan were both alive. It was more than enough for her. Now she just wanted to go home.
She watched Borger sit down in front of his laptop. Clay followed and stood behind him. After a few minutes, Borger leaned back, sharing the screen with him.
“I’d say it’s pretty unrecognizable.”
“Let’s hope so.”
Alison and Caesare came over to take a look and nodded in agreement.
Caesare looked at his watch. “Who wants to get out of here? We should still have enough fuel to make it down the other side of the mountain to Georgetown.”
Clay motioned outside. “Good, I’ll follow you down. I need to return the other one.”
“I’ll go with you.”
Clay smiled at Alison. “How could I give up my favorite copilot?”
Borger was fast at work on the last piece. He was getting into the system and removing the video data recorded from the ARGUS satellite. He wouldn’t remove everything, just the data covering the top of the mountain back to the satellite’s launch date. In fact, he wouldn’t even delete it. The NSA, not surprisingly, kept copious backups of their data. Instead of the deleting the files, he would corrupt them and leave them in place. With a little extra help from Borger, the corrupted versions of those files would soon replace all of those in the backups, leaving only unusable files in the NSA’s repository. Hopefully, by the time they realized the problem, it would be too late. And Borger would remove all traces as to who did it.
With any luck, the distraction over the sinking of the Bowditch would give him enough time to finish.
Less than fifteen minutes later, both helicopters lifted off the ground and banked left in tandem. Together, they smoothly descended the north side of the mountain and headed for the thin blue line of ocean on the horizon.
73
General Wei stood in front of his large office window with his hands crossed behind his back. Outside, the smog had lightened enough to allow most of the citizens to go back outside again. Long gone were the clear blue skies he remembered from his youth. It had all changed. It seemed the poisonous smog was now simply a cost of progress for Beijing, and many other cities. The industrial progress of the country had been too much and too fast for nature to keep up. And they were now paying for it.
There was a knock on the door behind him. He replied and turned to see his secretary enter, escorting in the young lieutenant. Wei knew him only by reputation and examined the man’s strong, youthful face. A face that many still had, one of unswerving love for his country and army. Wei wished he still had it.
Wei’s secretary ducked back out, closing the door. He continued studying the man and his wrinkled uniform. “Has anyone else seen this?”
The lieutenant’s dark eyes were like stone. “No, sir! I brought it straight from Lieutenant Chao.” He held out his arms and offered the small box to Wei.
The seal was unbroken. “You’ve done well, Lieutenant. You will receive a personal commendation for this.”
Wei kept his bemused expression from showing. In a few hours, a commendation with General Wei’s name on it was more likely to harm the man’s career than help it. Nevertheless, he saluted and dismissed him.
When the door closed again, Wei placed the box on his desk. He momentarily admired the box’s ornate exterior before breaking the wax seal and unlocking it. Inside were three large vials of clear, frozen liquid. The DNA was from some of the first plants captured in Guyana. He held one up and examined it.
Was it possible it had been tampered with or switched? Of course. There was always a way. However, ultimately, Wei had little left to rely on but practicality.
He placed the vial back in its place and closed the lid. He then reached out and picked up his phone. Wei was about to give his last order as one of China’s most decorated generals.
He had long known he would be the sacrificial lamb of his political masters. Yet what he was about to do would cause his family name to end up as one of the most publicly hated in China’s history.
Their sacrificial lamb was about to leave its masters utterly stunned.
74
Lieutenant Chao stood on the deck of his corvette, too far away to see even the faintest hint of land. Behind him, the fading sun was beginning to set against the watery horizon. A sunset he hardly noticed.
He had very little time now. The U.S. and Brazil were undoubtedly pursuing them which meant his stop in the middle of the ocean had to be swift.
The corvette and the Russian submarine Forel were side-by-side with a makeshift gangplank running between the vessels. The two Chinese submarines escorting them south would know they’d stopped and were undoubtedly waiting for them, just ahead out of sight.
The transfer of the packaged plants off the corvette and onto the Forel was quick. They weren’t taking many: just enough to grow and then sell the DNA on the black market. It was Chao’s ticket to ultimate wealth.
With the help of his Russian partners, he was about to completely disappear. It was the only way. Until, of course, one day when everyone finally had the formula, and he would be able to buy his way back into China, into their aristocracy. It was one of the constants in history; money always forgave.
Twenty crates. That’s all he needed. Hell, it took longer to tie up the boats than to transfer the precious cargo. When the last crate was tossed aboard the Forel, Chao stepped aboard. His life of hiding was about to begin.
Chao pushed the thick board away and watched it clamor down between the metal hulls, splashing into the ocean. It was so loud that he didn’t hear the yelling at first. However, as the gangplank sank below the water, he caught the sound of someone yelling below deck and frantically clamoring up the ladder. Chao turned to find himself looking into the ashen face of the Russian captain. He screamed a single word at the top of his lungs, which took Chao a split second to register through the heavy accent.
“Torpedoes!”
Chao’s eyes bolted open and he whipped around. Not far away, he could clearly see four separate drafts speeding toward them in the water. His last thought was one of confusion. The only submarines close enough to fire on them were their own.
All four torpedoes found their mark just seconds apart. Together, the corvette and the Forel erupted in dual explosions. Each of their hulls was ripped apart in the blink of an eye, along with their contents and crew. Multiple fireballs billowed into the air and large pieces of burning metal shot outward over the water. The explosions momentarily lifted both vessels before they promptly crashed back down together, plunging through the surface.
The ocean wasted no time, immediately surging over and inside the gaping wounds. Once fully underwater, the hulls gradually twisted away from one another and descended rapidly toward their watery grave.
The explosions were tremendous, but they were still too far away to be seen from the white sandy beaches of Rio de Janeiro, where the trim figure of Ca
rolina tiptoed over the sand and back to their chairs.
Blanco sat reclining, facing the sparkling blue ocean in front of him. The soothing sound of the cascading waves tried to hypnotize him over the cool breeze.
Carolina set his bottle down on the arm of the wide wooden chair and sat down in the adjoining recliner. Without a word, Blanco reached for the beer and took a long drink.
Even with the limited authority she had, Carolina had been able to take control of enough of Alves’ assets to last them a lifetime. The vast majority of the billionaire’s wealth still belonged to the corporations, which didn’t bother him. It was best not to be greedy and draw too much attention. Blanco was also pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to modify someone’s living will. Especially when the parties involved stood to benefit handsomely.
As expected, the investigation would go on for some time. Blanco’s explanation of their fight with the Chinese on the mountain and the resulting deaths of Alves and his men met little resistance. And now they had enough money to keep it that way. He did regret having to kill the two pilots when he found them at the poacher’s camp, but it was the only way. There would have been too many inconvenient facts left to explain.
As for Alves, Blanco held little remorse. The man had made a great many enemies and yet still lived a long, wealthy life of which most others could only dream. Given South America’s long tumultuous history, Alves enjoyed a better ride than almost anyone. He should have been more appreciative.
Blanco adjusted his position and felt the searing pain in his shoulder. He wondered about the man in black whom he had shot before fleeing the mountain. The man was most likely dead. Thankfully, Blanco had gotten a better shot off, but he was still damn lucky the stranger only got him in the shoulder.
Blanco made an imperceptible shrug. Better him than me.
75
General Wei watched the tall trees pass by with a surreal sense of loss as he drove deeper into the mountains of Northern China. Why had he never fully appreciated the detail of the world around him until the end? Why didn’t anyone?
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