The Sam Reilly Collection Volume 3

by Christopher Cartwright

  “I have no idea,” Sam admitted.

  “Could it be a coordinate?” Tom asked. “Something other than a latitude and longitude? Something older, like the Master Builder’s carrib, in which they identified the location of the pyramid in the Kalahari Desert?”

  Sam shook his head. “Too many numbers there to match anything we saw about the carrib.”

  “What about the height of a pyramid?” Genevieve asked.

  Sam thought about it. “I don’t know. What sort of measurement would achieve such a long number?”

  Veyron added, “It could be a different height for each section of the pyramid.”

  “Or something entirely different,” Sam said.

  Elise smiled.

  Sam recognized that smile. He’d seen her make it a few times before, just before she resolved a puzzle that had defeated the rest of them. “You have a suggestion, Elise?”

  Elise grinned. “Or the frequency of a sound wave.”

  “What?” Sam was surprised by her answer.

  “I thought you played piano, Sam?” Elise said, “Don’t you know anything about sound?”

  Sam ignored the disparagement. “Okay, so what sound does that represent?”

  “It’s high pitched. Probably much higher than most humans could even produce without significant training.”

  “There’s three numbers here. What does that mean?”

  Elise shrugged. “It’s a very simple tune. Three separate wavelengths. I don’t know what it does.”

  “Have a guess, for me,” Sam said. “Is there any way we could trace this back to where Billie’s being held?”

  Elise paused, as though she was considering the problem. “Sound can propagate through mediums such as air, water and solids as longitudinal waves… oh, it can travel in transverse wave in solids, too. The behavior of sound is affected by three things. A complex relationship of density, temperature, and speed.”

  Sam nodded. It was painful stuff, but he knew something about her unique mind that required her to showcase her knowledge as she worked the problem. It didn’t reveal her conceit, and she wasn’t boasting about her IQ. She didn’t have to. Everyone on board knew she was brilliant. It was simply how her mind worked the puzzle.

  Elise continued. Her voice was sharp and animated as she spoke. “Physically, audio is a vibration. Typically, we’re talking about vibrations of air between approximately 20 hertz and 20,000 Hertz. That means the air is moving back and forth at a rate of 20 to 20,000 times per second.”

  “Go on,” Sam said.

  “If you measure that vibration and convert it into an electrical signal through, say, a microphone, you’ll get an electrical signal with the voltage varying in the same waveform as the sound.”

  Elise glanced around the room to see if any of them were still following. Sam guessed she saw a lot of vacant expression.

  Elise continued. “Now we have an analogue signal. But not digital. Because we know voltage varies between minus one and positive one volts. Now we hook our volt meter to a computer and instruct the computer to read the meter 44,100 times per second. Add a second volt meter and you get stereo. This format is called stereo 44,100 Hertz – and it really is just a bunch of voltage measurements.”

  Sam shook his head. “Elise, that’s great, but just tell us what these numbers mean!”

  She typed them into the computer and pressed play. A strange, high pitched wail resonated from her laptop’s speakers. It was eerie and compelling at the same time.

  Sam said, “Any ideas where that sound comes from?”

  “No idea. Hang on. Let me do a search for it.”

  “You can Google a sound?”

  Elise nodded, cheerfully. “Basically, I’m searching a few other databases, but in short, I’m looking for digital matches of the wavelength of that specific sound.”

  The search program stopped. She clicked on the first link and pressed play. The whistle was identical to the one they’d just heard.

  Sam asked, “What is that sound and where was it made?”

  Elise grinned, because there was only one place in the world that made that sound. “The Pirahã tribe, along the Macai River of the Amazon Jungle.”

  Chapter Sixty – Macai River, Brazil

  The Sea King landed in a small clearing at the edge of the Macai River. Elise watched as Sam, Genevieve and Veyron – all armed to the teeth – stepped out into the Amazon jungle. Tom cut the power to the motor, and the massive rotary blades started to slowly whine, until they stopped altogether. Elise was the last to climb out.

  She carried an Israeli built, Uzi submachine gun.

  The local tribal people fished along the edge of the river. They glanced at the helicopter until its rotors finally stopped turning and went silent. After which, they returned to their fishing as though nothing in their environment had changed. The Pirahã tribe chose to remain out of the world of western civilization, but they were far less primitive than expected. They had seen planes and helicopters overhead. They simply had no desire to interact with the strange machines.

  Tom looked at her. “Now that you’ve gotten us this far, any chance you might narrow the location of Billie in the jungle?”

  “Afraid not,” Elise said. “If it makes you feel better, the Pirahã tribe number less than four hundred. So if she’s living with them when she’s not working on the new pyramid, she should be relatively easy to find.”

  Tom’s eyes swept the thick Amazonian jungle. “It’s a big jungle. There’s a lot of area to cover. She could be anywhere.”

  Billie stepped into the clearing. “Or she could be right here.”

  Tom embraced her. It was an affectionate hug, more like that between brother and sister than ex-lovers. Elise glanced at Genevieve, who appeared to be taking it with a refined grain of ambivalence. The two had been secret lovers until recently, when both had forgotten to conceal their obvious affection for each other. Most people wondered what would happen to their relationship now that Billie was back. Elise wasn’t one of those. She knew that Tom and Billie broke up before she left on the pretense that she was more interested in finding the Master Builders than her relationship with him. The reality was, it was a bit of both – Billie couldn’t settle down with anyone.

  “How did you know where to find us?” Sam asked.

  Billie laughed. “It’s not like we get a lot of helicopters in the area.”

  Tom said, “Let’s go before that thing comes back.”

  “You mean the Black Smoke?” Billie asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “It shouldn’t return for a few more days.” Billie glanced toward a group of people in the distance. “You guys should stay and see this place. The people of the Pirahã tribe are amazing!”

  Sam intervened. “Sounds like it, but all the same, we should leave.”

  “Leave?” Billie repeated the word. “I’m not leaving.”

  “What do you mean you’re not leaving?” Tom spat the words.

  “I like it here.” Billie shook her head. “I can’t leave yet. I haven’t finished my work and the Black Smoke needs me.”

  “Needs you!” Tom said. “That thing isn’t real. We had it chemically analyzed. It’s basically LSD on steroids. They’ve been using it to control you.”

  “Yes.” Billie smiled, stupidly. “I know.”

  “And you’re okay with that?” Tom asked.

  “Yes. Of course I am. You guys don’t understand what it’s trying to achieve. What it does for you… I’ve never felt more alive in my life.”

  “That’s great.” Sam gripped his Heckler and Koch MP5, scanning the rest of the jungle around them. Some of the Pirahã tribe, who’d taken little notice of them five minutes earlier, were now slowly making their way silently to greet them. “We’ve got to go.”

  “Why?” Billie asked, holding on to Sam’s arm. “Please, I’d like you all to stay.”

  Her hand gripped his arm so tight it hurt. Sam ripped his arm free. “What’s
got into you? I said, we have to go.”

  Billie’s eyes filled with confined rage. “Please, I just want you all to stay… just for a little while longer.”

  Black smoke seeped out of the lower ground and surrounding valleys like a rising sea, that would soon swamp them all.

  Genevieve interrupted. “Listen bitch! I don’t know what the drugs are telling you to do, but we’ve come a long way to get you out of here, and it’s time to go.”

  Billie’s head snapped to face Genevieve. Her almond eyes were wide and her mouth opened – an instant later, her lips thinned and she started to form the lower notes of a high pitched whistle.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  The high pitched whistle was relayed across each member of the Pirahã tribe who were now encircling them. Elise gripped her Uzi, and fired a couple short bursts into the air above the men and women who were slowly encroaching on them at a pace no faster than a slow walk. To her they appeared more like an animal patiently stalking its prey, than human’s surrounding their enemy.

  She shouted, “Back in the helicopter!”

  Tom grabbed Billie against her will and dragged her into the helicopter. Genevieve climbed into the pilot seat and flicked on the engine, while Tom tried to stop Billie from clawing her way out.

  Sam yelled, “Get us out of here, Genevieve!”

  The massive rotor blades above started to turn at a painfully slow pace. It takes time to start a helicopter, and no amount of coaxing can reduce it. Genevieve checked a number of controls, waiting for the main rotor to reach its minimum take-off RPM.

  Elise stared out the helicopter’s windows. The thick smoke now filled the outside. It surrounded them like a sinister weapon trying to smother the life out of them. The Pirahã tribe now formed a circle around the helicopter, so close they were touching one another. Each person looked straight upon the helicopter – mesmerized by the sight but unable to advance any further.

  She could make out every intricate detail of the faces. They were set hard with determination as they stared into the helicopter. Their eyes were open, but pupils were rolled back – as though they were having a seizure.

  What the hell?

  “Get us out of here, Genevieve!” she yelled.

  But already the thick smoke was starting to seep through the small opening in the Sea King’s aluminum airframe.

  “Close the vents!” Sam said, shutting the cockpit air vents.

  In the rear cabin, Elise and Veyron frantically shoved blankets over the vents, where the Black Smoke still entered. Her eyes darted toward Billie, who was grinning sardonically and, like the others, her eyes were rolled back inside her head. Although she looked awake, she had no more control over her cognitive response than an epileptic having a seizure.

  Elise tried to hold her breath. “We’re going to be trapped here, Genevieve – if you don’t get us out of here now!”

  Genevieve turned around. “We’re okay, now.”

  Every muscle in Elise’s body went taut as she involuntarily recoiled – because beneath the waxy replica of Genevieve’s fortitude, her eyes were fixed upward, staring at the back of her skull.

  A moment later, Genevieve switched off the Sea King’s engines and the rotor blades whirred into a silent idle.

  “Wait!” Elise screamed, but her words went unheard, as Sam, Tom, Veyron, Genevieve and Billie all opened the doors and stepped outside to join the Black Smoke.

  She followed them outside. Now all the entire Pirahã tribe was starting to enter the jungle, and her team among them. No one spoke. They simply followed, as though driven by some sort of higher power, a chemical intervention that she still didn’t quite understand.

  Elise fired another burst of rounds from her Uzi just above her friend’s heads. It made no difference. She doubted if shooting them would have stopped their inhumane need to follow the others into the jungle.

  In the back of her mind, Elise felt a strange yearning to follow them. There was no voice in her head that told her what should be done, simply that it would feel right to join the others. She watched as her friends disappeared into the jungle.

  No. This isn’t what I want.

  She thought about it for a moment, trying to steady herself from joining the others. It was like a patient trying to stay awake after being given the anesthetic for surgery, convinced they would actually get to count back from a hundred.

  It was impossible.

  And yet she tried.

  The jungle is wrong. It’s evil. We must not follow. We want to go home…

  They weren’t quite thoughts, as much as feelings. She didn’t shout the words out. Instead, she simply felt the strong emotions of fear, distrust, and the need to escape. The sensations became stronger. More forceful and uncomfortable. She tried to make them stop. Like a child, she wanted to crawl under her blanket and pretend she was somewhere else, a place where monsters in the dark didn’t exist.

  A few minutes later, she spotted Billie. She stepped out of the thick jungle and into the clearing. Behind her, Sam, Tom, Veyron and Genevieve all followed. They slowly came and stood next to her. Each one remained silent, standing there, staring at the Black Smoke as it disappeared into the jungle.

  When the Black Smoke was completely gone, Billie turned to face her. “Now what?”

  Elise grinned. “Now we go home.”

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Boston Specialist Hospital – Two Weeks Later.

  Sam looked at Billie. She’d just finished getting dressed and had signed herself out of the hospital. She was back to her normal, intelligent, cynical self – filled with confidence bordering on arrogance. It was good to see her back to normal.

  He said, “There’s one thing I really don’t get about all this.”

  “Really?” Billie said, “Just one?”

  “Okay, one thing that’s been bothering me… and you might happen to know the answer.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Why did the Master Builders focus on the biblical reference with the covenant of the Four Horsemen?”

  “I’ve had a lot of thoughts about that. I believe they were concerned that none of them would be alive when the time came to trigger the Death Mask. You see, the Master Builders had a genetic disorder that allowed them to live extremely long lives, but they were far from being immortal. Like all people, they could die from traumatic events and their numbers were lessening. What’s worse, is that the same genetic disorder that extended their lifespan was recessive – meaning in most cases, their children didn’t possess the same disorder.”

  “Most adults outlived their children?” Sam asked.

  “Yes. So most ceased to have children of their own.”

  Sam said, “How awful.”

  “So the Master Builders needed to enlist the help of ordinary people.”

  “But why focus on Christianity?”

  “You have to understand that at the time of the early fourth century, Christianity was spreading like wildfire in the region. Armenia was the first to adopt it as its country’s religion. It was the simplest means of maintaining an ongoing covenant that needed to extend well past any one person’s life expectancy.”

  Sam nodded. “And Gregory the Illuminator?”

  “At the end of the third century, when Gregory made a pilgrimage to the Gods he thought he spotted in Mount Ararat, he found the Master Builders. They told him of the Four Horsemen, and instructed him to keep the pendant of Conquest. They told him to return to his king and tell him to renounce his pagan ways. That in the years to come the king would become possessed by a demon, and that only he alone would be able to cure him.”

  “Go on.”

  “King Tiridates III was angry, but so concerned by Gregory’s conviction that he ordered the man locked in the dungeon of Khor Virap. The rest is history.”

  Sam smiled. “The Master Builders poisoned King Tiridates III until Gregory’s release?”

  “There’s no proof, but it’s definitely a high likelihood.
Either that, or Gregory did perform a miracle.”

  “And your grandfather. How did he become part of the Four Horsemen?”

  “My grandfather followed a very old story about the day Gregory the Illuminator was thrown into Khor Virap. It said that he was wearing a pendant of a horse made of ivory, but that by the time the man was released, he no longer wore any jewelry at all.”

  “Your father visited Khor Virap?”

  “Yes. He found a buried container inside the deep dungeon and a note from Gregory relating the story of the Four Horsemen. My grandfather spent most of his life trying to locate the hidden temple inside Mount Ararat. In the end, it’s what got him killed.”

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Sam watched as Dr. Elaine Creswell, M.D. entered the room. She was a couple years shy of sixty, and one of the leading experts in the world on the topic of neurology. She focused specifically on unusual neural pathways. Things like secondary pathways that sometimes start to grow after a stroke has caused a blockage in the usual pathway, or sometimes to circumvent information that is failing to be processed at the sight of a brain tumor. The aberrant neural pathways were uncommon, but not unheard of. She had spent a life studying them with the hope that such pathways may one day lead to a solution for patients with spinal cord injuries.

  “Good morning, Dr. Creswell,” Sam said.

  “Morning, Mr. Reilly. I have something I want to show you.” She glanced at Billie. “In private, I’m afraid.”

  “No problem,” Billie said. “I was just leaving.”

  Dr. Creswell waited until Billie left the room and then closed the door. She placed a radiology report in front of Sam. “This is the report from Elise’s MRI.”

  Sam met her eye. “What does it say?”

  “Elise has an enlarged posterior cerebrum.”

  “She has a large brain?” Sam asked. “Hell, I could have told you that. She’s several rungs above genius status on the MENSA IQ ladder.”

  “It doesn’t quite work like that. This isn’t normal, and at first it quite worried me.”