Old Earth

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Old Earth Page 32

by Gary Grossman


  “Amazing,” Father Eccleston said reaching out. “It’s…” he searched for the right word. “Perfection.”

  Seventy-eight

  Katrina touched the smooth surface and held the light to her hand. There wasn’t a speck of dust.

  “The properties are amazing. It repels dirt and disrupts electrical pulses in its realm. How, Father?”

  Eccleston affirmed Katrina’s observation. “Science I can’t explain. But rest assured, it’s surely science. No matter what Denisova or the old priest thought, this isn’t the devil’s work. Galileo recognized it.” He paused. “No, he understood it. He got inside. Now we have to.”

  McCauley began to feel along the wall he couldn’t see. So did Alpert and Eccleston. They gradually spread out, McCauley to the left touching middle-to-high; Katrina below him, the priest to their right. It was the left that brought results.

  “Got it,” McCauley said. The base of the prime pyramid was embedded at roughly waist level, angling upwards into a triangle, meeting at a point marked by one indentation.

  “Okay, okay. So prime numbers are the universal standard that can reach across all space and time, right?”

  “Correct,” Eccleston said.

  “And although we don’t know who inserted the prime pyramids or why, I suspect the what begins right here. This is it. This is the lock. We need to figure out the key.”

  “Galileo wrote about la chiave, the key,” Eccleston exclaimed.

  “Yes, but he didn’t leave it,” Katrina added.

  “Perhaps so it wouldn’t be so easy for others,” the Vatican scientist deduced. “But there are some number games related to primes that a mathematician would know. And Galileo was a mathematician.”

  “My God,” McCauley said, “I used to do them in grad school. One of them dealt with squaring any prime bigger than five. Then add— ”

  “Seventeen,” Eccleston interrupted, “and divide by twelve.”

  “And?” Katrina asked not knowing the trick, and not being able to work the problem so quickly in her head.

  “There’s always a remainder of .6,” McCauley said.

  “Or .5 on a calculator,” Eccleston added. He went through a few easy examples. Each time the remainder turned out the same.

  “Okay, so what do we do with that?” she continued.

  They couldn’t come up with any solutions. Everything in the pyramid was representative of whole numbers, not fractions.

  “All this way and we can’t get any further” Katrina was disappointed. “What did Galileo know that we don’t know.”

  “Not know. What did he try that we haven’t tried?” Eccleston thought for a moment. “I remember another prime number brain teaser,” he said. “Even easier. Square any prime number larger than three. Subtract one. See what happens.”

  McCauley tried it once with five, then again with seven and eleven. He smiled. Katrina was doing the same with numbers of her choosing. This time she got the formula. “It’s always divisible by twenty-four!”

  “Right. The remainder is twenty-four. So back to the pyramid. Where can we find twenty-four?”

  McCauley removed the prime pyramid cheat sheet from under his sweater He shined his light on it. “Whoops, twenty-four isn’t a prime number.”

  “No,” Eccleston said looking over his shoulder. “But there are twos and fours. Fourth row there’s both. I’ll try them.” Eccleston pressed the indentations. Nothing happened.

  “Maybe we add up numbers to get twenty-four.” Katrina suggested. “I’ll show you.”

  She pointed to the number one at the apex, then another one on the second row. “One plus one equals two,” she explained. Then add the next two on the second row. That’s four. So, twenty-four?”

  “We’re here, let’s try,” Eccleston said lightly.

  The priest started at the top, pressing each of the perfectly imprinted notches in the unknown metal. Finishing on the second row, he stood back and waited.

  Again, nothing.

  “Too simple and too complicated at the same time,” McCauley offered. But the key has to be hiding in plain sight. Galileo got it.”

  McCauley scanned his sheet one more time. “We can add up the numbers, but do the numbers add up to anything?”

  “In the prime pyramid they always do,” Eccleston explained.

  “Right, but what if the answer is already in the prime pyramid. Back to what we were trying before. If it’s related to the mathematical equation let’s just go to the answer in its most simplest form.”

  “Alright, here and here,” Eccleston said, pointing to the number two on the second row and the four on the fourth row. “That’s where they first appear.”

  “My thought exactly,” McCauley said.

  The Yale professor returned to the black wall, felt for the correct orientation and began to count as he touched the first two depressions followed by the four on the row two down. “One, two and one, two, three, four.”

  Quinn McCauley was filled with anticipation, but once more, the supposition failed.

  “It’s a dead end,” Katrina reluctantly admitted.

  McCauley stared straight ahead silently. He couldn’t see a thing, which suddenly made the answer all the more clear to him. He smiled.

  “Take my light, Katrina.” With self-assurance he asked, “Twenty-four, right?”

  “Well…” Now, Eccleston wasn’t any more confident than Katrina. “Twenty-four if… .”

  “Good, just checking. He flexed his fingers. “Twenty-four it is.”

  Extending two fingers on his left hand and four fingers on his right, he felt for all of the notches he had just touched one at a time. Finding them, he eased back. “Here goes.” With another deep breath, he gently pressed them simultaneously. “Twenty-four,” he whispered.

  Five seconds of disappointment. Five seconds of wondering if he had found le chiave, or ever would. Then their ears suddenly began to ache as air pressure in the cave changed. They heard a muffled sound beyond the wall, like hydraulics or a motor. Then they felt air flowing towards them, first at foot level, then gradually higher to above their heads. Though they couldn’t yet see, a large section of the wall containing the prime pyramid rose.

  Compelled by curiosity, and in the priest’s mind, probably some faith, the trio ventured forward. Without realizing it, they held hands and entered…somewhere.

  Moments later, the perfect black began to lighten. First to an appreciable black, then a dark gray through increasing lighter tones, and ultimately to the whitest white they’d ever perceived. The change occurred over more than a minute, allowing their eyes to adjust. Soon they realized they were within a vast environment, but they could no better judge it by height, width, or depth than the black that had preceded it. It had no visible light source, yet everything—the ceiling, the walls, the floor—were illuminated to the same bright white level.

  “Amazing,” Katrina said.

  “Extraordinary,” Eccleston exclaimed.

  “Where are we?” McCauley managed

  “When are we?” Eccleston proposed. He didn’t have the chance to explain himself.

  “Turn around slowly! Very slowly!”

  It was a sharp order from a voice at the entrance to the chamber. Demanding, insistent. Most of all, threatening.

  Seventy-nine

  “Dr. McCauley, Dr. Alpert and Fr. Eccleston. I commend the three of you on your quest. Thank you for lighting the way.”

  A man stepped forward. He held a semi-automatic pistol in his right hand and a flashlight that wasn’t working in his left.

  “Would you describe it as holy or scientific? Or wholly scientific?” he asked.

  McCauley judged him to be about six feet, bald and thin, maybe forty or forty-five. He wasn’t dressed for the job at hand, whether it was cave exploring or murder. He wore tan pants, now filthy, and a light blue pull-over sweater. McCauley recognized him: the man who had stood outside Eccleston’s apartment.

  McCauley
held his left arm out and waved Katrina behind. “Who are you?”

  “An unimportant question.”

  Katrina now also recognized him. She started to speak, but McCauley squeezed her hand and whispered, “I know.”

  “I think you can put the gun away,” the priest implored.

  “Not likely, Father.”

  “Look, if we’re not supposed to be here, we can all just leave. No problem,” McCauley said.

  “My dear Dr. McCauley, the problem exists precisely because you are here. And you have cost me sleep for weeks. Your exhaustive pursuit of things you have no concept of. Your inability to stop.”

  “Before or after the bombing or the plane crash? I take it that was your work,” McCauley declared.

  “You are quite the sleuth.”

  “…And what about my assistant? I haven’t been able to reach him,” McCauley said hoping to hear something about Pete DeMeo.

  “I wouldn’t worry about anyone else right now,” the man with the gun said.

  “You’re going to…” Katrina couldn’t complete the thought.

  “Well, not right at this rather remarkable spot. Far too pristine. Besides, thanks to you I now know how to re-enter. But I see you understand the gravity of the situation, Dr. Alpert.”

  Father Eccleston took a step forward. “You don’t have to do this. You…”

  “Oh, but I do. It’s my job.”

  “This is absurd,” Katrina argued. She tried to step around McCauley who held her back.

  “As absurd as what you’ve come across?” the man asked impassively.

  The point was ironic.

  “You can live with three murders including a priest?” McCauley asked.

  The man looked like he considered the point.

  “We’re not here to exploit anything. Hell, we don’t even know what this is. We’re merely academicians, invisible in the long run. Father Eccleston is a Vatican scientist. Assuredly, the Vatican knows how to contain him. So why don’t we all leave none the worse and as ill-informed as when we arrived. We go our way, you go yours.”

  “Perhaps,” the man volunteered.

  McCauley didn’t believe him for a second, but thought it might buy them some time or opportunity.

  “But we haven’t begun to understand anything about…”

  “Not your job, Father.”

  “And what is your job?” Eccleston decried. “You mentioned your job.”

  “Right now, cleaning house. Okay. Everyone out. One at a time. Father Eccleston first, then you, Dr. McCauley. Dr. Alpert comes up third, close to me. She will be the first to die if you attempt to run.”

  “Run?” Katrina complained “Through here?”

  “Out,” the gunman ordered. “Out!”

  • • •

  They left the expanse and its mysteries. As they passed through the opening, the white dissolved quickly to black and the wall began to close behind them as silently as it had opened. They walked, then crawled where necessary.

  “I think the flashlights will work about here,” McCauley soon said. Katrina started to douse her lamp.

  “No!” the man shouted. “Flashlights on first. I need to see you!”

  They did as they were told, but McCauley lost an opportunity he hoped he’d get.

  While still on all fours, McCauley found a small rock; not quite round, but something he could palm. It might be the only weapon available.

  Their footsteps began to echo again, indicating the tunnel was opening up. The lights lit the pathway and the walls. Soon they were fully upright re-entering the expansive cavern with the extraordinary geological shapes and the underground river.

  There was a moment, only a moment when McCauley could tell Katrina and Eccleston what he planned. With his back to the gunman he whispered, “Get ready to shut off your flashlights and hit the ground when I say, Now.”

  “But?”

  Katrina was about to argue that the man was going to let them go. McCauley knew better.

  “Okay, stop,” the captor ordered. It surely wasn’t a conversational tone. He panned his flashlight from McCauley, to Alpert and lastly over to the priest.

  They stood about fifteen feet in front. McCauley was ready to give the signal, but the gunman acted first. He fired at his target with no warning.

  Father Eccleston heard the shot, which was enough to surprise him. Then he felt growing warmth in his stomach. All of this was within the initial second. He looked down, then up, confused. The next shot ended all his surprise and eliminated the pain. Father Jareth Eccleston dropped to his knees, then toppled into the water.

  McCauley had the wits to yell, “Now!”

  He dropped his flashlight. Katrina did the same and fell flat on the floor just as another shot rang out. Both of their lights broke.

  McCauley stepped to his left and turned his body sideways.

  The man fired again, but had no true target. However, the gunman’s flashlight gave McCauley his. He pulled his right arm back and aimed for the man’s head.

  His throwing arm didn’t fail him.

  The man dropped. The flashlight fell from his hand which plunged the cavern into complete darkness.

  “Katrina!”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Katrina!”

  “Over here.” She struggled with her reply.

  “Where?”

  “A few feet away.”

  Katrina groped for her flashlight. She found it, but it didn’t work.

  McCauley pulled another from his backpack and turned it on. He was grateful to see she wasn’t hurt. McCauley helped Katrina up.

  McCauley panned his new flashlight along the floor. The man was down.

  “Is he… ” Katrina hesitated. “…dead?”

  “I don’t know, but get out now!”

  “Father Eccleston?”

  “Out now! I’ll be right behind you.” He gave her another flashlight.

  Alpert started toward the pathway, but turned when she heard a splash. She rushed to the water’s edge.

  “Quinn!” She shined her light into the water.

  After twenty seconds McCauley’s head popped up for air. He filled his lungs and went back under. Another thirty seconds, he returned, took a deep breath, and dove again. After the third attempt, he swam to Katrina.

  “He’s gone. But you should have… .”

  “Shut up and let me help you.”

  She reached out, bracing her legs against a stalagmite. “Grab hold.” McCauley took her hand and struggled onto the cavern floor.

  “Okay?” she asked.

  “Yes, yes. Okay. Thank you,” he said shivering.

  McCauley took her flashlight and shined it on the downed man. He was groggy and disoriented.

  “Can you make it?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  They quickly retraced their steps. Adrenaline kept them going. When they could, they held hands. When that wasn't possible, McCauley made sure she went first.

  For an instant, McCauley thought he heard breathing or wheezing behind them. “Faster!” he exclaimed.

  “Is he…?”

  “Just go!”

  Soon, they saw welcomed daylight. The late afternoon sun would warm McCauley and the open road would provide escape. Ahead, more unknown. For now they were grateful to be free and alive.

  As they emerged from the cave and their eyes adjusted, they abruptly realized that that option had disappeared.

  Eighty

  Inside the cave

  Colin Kavanaugh gradually regained awareness. McCauley’s rock had only dazed him.

  He groped for a flashlight. First forward, then side-to-side. Without it he feared he’d never find his way out. Suddenly, he heard something roll toward him. Metal on rock. He struck his hand out as the flashlight reached him. He turned it on and scanned about for his gun.

  “Looking for this?”

  The voice came from the side. It was as cold as the cavern, but more chilling because he re
cognized it.

  He turned to the direction of the voice. All he saw was a flashlight beam shining on a handgun aimed directly at him.

  “I believe this is yours.” The gunman tilted the flashlight up to his face—a sneering, angry face; the last man in the world Colin Kavanaugh ever imagined he’d see again: the man with the umbrella.

  • • •

  Outside the cave

  The same time

  Quinn and Katrina stood ten feet from a row of gunmen armed with semi-automatics. The afternoon sun created something of a halo around them. Given their weapons McCauley determined it was totally undeserved.

  “You’re to stay right where you are,” a man in the middle of some twenty others emphatically ordered.

  Quinn thought the instruction sounded secondhand, delivered by someone awaiting final instructions. The breathing he heard in the cave?

  “Mind if we sit down?” Katrina was serious. She was exhausted.

  “Be my guest.”

  • • •

  Inside the cave

  “Mr. Gruber, apparently your death preceded you.”

  Gruber shined the light onto his prey.

  “I had to be certain you were ready,” Gruber said.

  “So this has all been another test?”

  “Oh no, young man. Not just another test. Your final, as it were.” The voice behind the light sounded all the more cruel. “You failed.”

  “Mr. Gruber,” Kavanaugh pleaded, “I was only following protocol. Find, research, review, contain. Just as you always instructed.”

  “You bungled your research. You let emotion rule your decisions. You ordered an attack on an individual when none was warranted, thus raising increased suspicion. You brought chaos to our organization and created opportunity for disunity, which is not permitted.”

  “But!”

  “Secretum! Did you not understand anything I taught? Obviously not. You ultimately risked it all by killing a priest, no less. You. With your own hand. It’s sure to bring an investigation from the church, potentially exposing Autem Semita. I cannot recall such ineptitude in our history. You, Mr. Kavanaugh, shall be a brand new lesson for all future candidates.”

 

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