He leaned over and splashed water over his face. “Pyramids on a Jupiter moon? It has got to be real. Why else would they take the time to find me in Peru, in a private chopper? They wouldn’t.” His stomach churned. “This shit only happens in movies.”
Clothes on, he hurried down the hall to the Research and Investigation Operation Underfoot Team’s room. RIOUT for short.
He opened the door and all heads turned his way.
Slade leaned forward with a squint. “You’re late, Jaxx.”
A clock on the wall displayed five past seven. In the morning. Not the evening, the morning; practically dawn. Jaxx took a few steps toward Slade then stopped, stunned at what blared on the screen just behind him.
“The Lady of Atlantis?”
Slade turned nonchalantly and crossed his arms over his belly. “That’s not the Lady of Atlantis.”
Jaxx walked up next to him to get a closer view, mouth open. “That’s sure as rain the Lady of Atlantis. A limestone statue found in 1897 at L’Alcudia, an archaeological site on some private estate in Spain. I know that statue. I’ve studied it for years. The giveaway is the wheel-like coils covering her ears. It’s a device of some sort with symbols etched in the stone that I still haven’t been able to decipher.”
Slade sniffed at Jaxx’s clothes. “Ever thought of taking a shower, Jaxx?” His affect was flat; totally unnerving. “We know what the Lady of Atlantis is. That may look just like her, but it’s not the same one.”
“Jaxx,” a man interjected. “You’re thinking of the Lady of Elche.” He held out his hand. “Dr. Jon Shaughnessy.” The man was short and pudgy, with a receding hairline. His glasses were two sizes bigger than they needed to be, and he seemed to be the only scientist that didn’t look Jaxx up and down with disdain. He adjusted his glasses for longer than necessary. A nervous tick, perhaps. Jaxx sympathized. This “Underfoot Black” cave-office-research-room gave him the creeps, too.
Jaxx shook his hand. “I’m sorry, but the official name is inaccurate. Mainstream archeology claims that the statue was created in the 4th century BC. It doesn’t match up with any other artifacts dating back to that era, especially given the location it was found. The clothing is completely different, along with the way this statue was created. It’s chiseled in almost pinpoint perfection, as if a laser was used to carve it.”
Slade gestured over his shoulder toward scientists huddled over their computers, assiduously ignoring Jaxx, Slade, and Shaughnessy. “They’ve nicknamed the statue Princess Leia.”
Jaxx shook his head. “Those huge hair spools on each side of the woman’s head aren’t what you first perceive. It’s not hair. It’s headgear that connects all the way around to the back of the head. I believe it’s some type of technology.”
Slade nodded. “It’s not Lady of Atlantis, or Lady of Elche, or whatever the hell you want to call it. This one is the size of the Statue of Liberty.”
Shaughnessy patted Jaxx on the shoulder. “Well, nice to meet you. Love your work. Gotta go. I’m on the clock.” He gave Slade a half-ass salute, “Aye-aye, Colonel man.” Then walked back to his computer station to study the hieroglyphs on his screen.
Slade ignored the doctor. His arms crossed, he faced Jaxx. “This statue is also on Callisto.” He pointed at the images displayed on the screens throughout the room, taking the entire array in with a sweep of his arm. “Everything here is on Callisto. So, look at them with fresh eyes.”
That couldn’t be. To Jaxx, they were clearly human made. A human-looking statue? Man designed these structures. To make things more confusing, if what he was looking at was real, it was a never-before touched archaeological site. The only way such structures could be so pristine was if man hadn’t scraped away at it for years, or weather elements were such that it was rarely touched by wind or rain.
Slade made his way to the door. “Also, Jaxx, Shaughnessy will be your partner on this project. He’s the only one who can stomach your theories.” Slade let the door slam behind him.
Jaxx turned and watched Jon Shaughnessy comb over ancient symbols.
Jaxx then glanced at his new colleagues. What the hell was he supposed to do? None of them gave him any hints, nor any direction.
“Mr. Jaxx, over here.” It was Shaughnessy, his pasty face engulfed in a smile. “You can take my place.” He stood and slapped his seat, then waived Jaxx over. “Just help me with this, will you? Do you know mdju netjer?”
Jaxx took his seat, brushing a laptop under the desk with his foot. It was powered on, connected via a USB cord, obviously collecting data from the computer Shaughnessy was just using. Smart to have a back-up. “That’s the language of the Gods, attributed to Thoth.”
“Exactly. I’m learning as I go, but I have no clue what I’m looking at here. Deciphering it is a bitch. Half of these symbols aren’t in the dictionary we’ve been given.”
“It’s because half of these aren’t ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. Where are these located...on Callisto?” It was almost too ridiculous to say.
“On a domed structure, next to the pyramids.”
Jaxx studied the glyphs and symbols.
Shaughnessy rubbed his chin. “What languages am I looking at, then?”
“Half mdju netjer or Atlantean, which many Egyptologists have dubbed Egyptian, the other half are Sumerian symbols.”
“You can read them?”
Jaxx stomach tensed. Once again, he didn’t want to answer the question. He gazed up at Shaughnessy, and was glad to see his new lab partner was curious rather than skeptical. “I know a bit of it. It’s part of my job. I can’t research if I don’t understand the language I’m researching.”
Shaughnessy motioned to the screen. “What does it say?”
Jaxx perused the symbols and glyphs, and whispered the translations to himself. When done, he held his hands out, then shrugged. “I have no idea what they’re trying to spell out. Kuruka mwezi?”
“What’s that mean?”
“Moon fly or fly moon?”
“An insect?”
“No. Fly, the verb. As in flying somewhere.”
“Like, in a plane or a spaceship?”
“Yeah,” Jaxx said under his breath as he examined the words more closely. “Roketi? Rocket. That’s strange. Unless...”
He scrolled down to a glyph that resembled a jet fighter. “It’s showing Atlantean technology.”
“What does it say?”
Jaxx put his hand up. “Hold on.” He read more. “Kipengele? Element.” He scrolled down. “They have hundreds of atomic elements etched here.” Jaxx took a deep breath, then exhaled loudly. “No, that can’t be it.”
“What can’t be it?”
“Nothing.” He gave a dismissive hand. “Just ignore me. This is how I work.”
“Got it, boss. But, those aren’t neutral atoms that we’re looking at. You can see eight protons are in the middle, seven electrons around it on that one. The next one has seven protons, eight electrons. It’s ions to be more accurate and—”
“And, with the group of atomic elements here, we have polyatomic ions.” Jaxx had yet another I want to scream my excitement to the entire world moment, but managed to contain himself.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you see this before?”
Shaughnessy shrugged. “I hadn’t scrolled down that far. I was still trying to figure out the first several symbols.”
“With all of these Sumerian symbols mixed with Atlantean symbols, it’s getting a little confusing. Can we lose the Atlantean?”
“Sure, why?”
“They are just repeating words. My Sumerian is better than my Atlantean.” He blushed. How appalling to have to admit that his area of specialization was lacking. “I’ve had more practice with Sumerian. It’s a more recent language—if you can call Sumerian recent. In any case, the Atlantean symbol is saying what the Sumerian symbol is.”
Shaughnessy pressed a couple of keys on the keyboard, then double clicked the mou
se. The Atlantean symbols disappeared and the Sumerian symbols moved side by side.
Jaxx bit his fingernail, examining the glyphs. He grabbed a pen and paper and started drawing ion after ion. “All of these are adding and removing, but in a specific sequence. Add, remove, add, remove.” He stood, eyes wide. “Nah, can’t be.”
“It can be. It is,” said Shaughnessy.
“You see it too?”
“It’s advanced plasma propulsion. It’s an ion propulsion formula that creates an electric charge. It’s so simple.”
“The symbol for ‘Sumaku’ is underneath it,” Jaxx replied. “It’s calling for magnets to be added.”
“Well, yeah. That’s how NASA propels its probes, by using extra-strength magnets to prevent the electrons from reaching the discharge channel walls. You don’t want an ionizing event in space.”
“This is how the Atlanteans flew to Callisto.”
“What?”
“Look at all the atomic elements even lower on the screen. It’s like an instruction manual.”
“Holy shit, Jaxx.”
“See those symbols?” Jaxx pointed to symbols at the end of what seemed to be a couple hundred atomic elements. “It says Siku kumi Kuruka mwezi, essentially meaning to fly to the moon in ten days. It’s a blueprint for advanced ion-propulsion systems. It’s either meant for the Atlanteans’ own scientists or they had hoped a future society would come across their structures long after their culture had vanished. It also bolsters my theory that the Atlanteans had a presence in Eastern Africa. They don’t call it the Cradle of Civilization for nothing.”
“Are you saying they flew from Mozambique to Callisto in ten days?”
“Well,” Jaxx nodded, shook his head, then nodded again. “I can’t say where they set off from, but yes, they were highly advanced and if I can convince Slade—”
“If you can get Slade to get this to tech,” Shaughnessy interrupted. “Then you’ve just advanced us by hundreds of years.”
Jaxx grinned. How freaking awesome would it be if he’d been right all along?
4
May 24th
Underfoot Black, Grenada
“We did what you asked and sent the information to tech,” Slade said, lips down turned.
Jaxx, standing near Shaughnessy’s computer station, rubbed his hands together. “What other structures are you hiding from me? I can decode whatever you need.” In a way, Jaxx was in archaeological Disneyland. If he could just tell the other scientists to leave so he could pore over these images, symbols, and structures on his own, then he’d practically orgasm. His eyes were among the first to see what had taken place on a moon millions, if not billions, of miles away. It would tell him a story, a way of life on that moon, and how the Atlanteans terraformed the moon to make it a liveable, breathable object in the solar system.
“You’re not seeing any more images until we deem your translations of the atomic elements correct,” Slade said.
“What do I do then? Go back to my room?”
Slade walked toward the door. “You’re coming with me. We’re going to hypnotherapy.”
Jaxx gave a double take. “What?”
“We have found that when a scientist has a discovery, and if we take them to a hypnotherapy session, we uncover information the subconscious mind hasn’t brought forth to the conscious mind yet. In other words, there are things that you may have seen and overlooked. We aren’t in the mood to have scientists sleep on things in order for the memory of another great discovery within the greater discovery to come to the surface. That can take days to weeks. We don’t have that much time.”
Time for what? Jaxx lifted his gaze. “Am I going to hypnotherapy now?”
“Yes, we’re late. I’ll be watching your session, so feel honored.”
A few days ago, Jaxx had been content doing field research. Well, not really. Content wasn’t the correct word, but he had liked it better than what he was going through at the moment. He lay on a couch, eyes closed, forced into a subconscious state by an old dude named Donny, whose long white beard matched his lab coat.
Slade sat in the room as well. He watched intently. Not the most relaxing ménage. Still, Donny’s voice lured him deeper and deeper. Down the escalator, through the fields of grain, and across the languid seas until he was in a place both familiar and unfamiliar, but profoundly relaxing. Massive screens hung from invisible wires while a series of glyphs flashed and danced and winked at him.
“What do you see?” Donny asked.
Jaxx spoke in a whisper. “The glyphs on the screen. They are in English. They weren’t in English yesterday.”
“It is safe to speak up, Mr. Jaxx. Your subconscious mind is seeing the symbols the easiest way it can. What do the words say in English?”
“They say…” Jaxx went silent. His view went from the screen to another image altogether. “I’m not on Earth anymore.”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know. I was shipped here. They sent me without training. No, that’s wrong. I was trained, but I don’t believe that I’ve been trained well.”
“Who are they?”
“The Secret Space Program.”
He heard Slade writhe in his chair.
“Where exactly are you?” Donny inquired.
A shift occurred. The in-between state, where patient and hypnotherapist could talk together, moved from being in two worlds into one. Donny was there, but not there. His voice hung in the air, like a phantasm. “It’s okay to let us know, in words, where you have found yourself, Kaden. We’re all friends, here.”
Jaxx strapped into a starfighter and waited for the go-ahead to launch out of a Star Carrier’s bay. The smell of new upholstery filled the cockpit. Was he in a brand new starfighter?
With a ninety-nine percent chance he’d die today, he didn’t want to be in a starfighter. He didn’t want to be in space. Well, he did, but not under these conditions.
Both hands were on his starfighter’s control stick. He shook, squeezing his grip tighter and tighter as he waited for the starfighters in front of him to blast out of the amber glowing launch tubes.
He was next.
His comm line came alive.
“You ready?” It was a woman’s voice. He gave a sideways glance out of his cockpit window. Another starfighter waited alongside him in the launch queue. The pilot gave a thumbs up.
“No, I’m not.” Bile filled his throat and he swallowed hard to get the evil liquid to subside. No one liked barf inside their helmet when shot into space.
“Well, they’re in full force today. When you exit the launch tube, push your control stick forward and you’ll head straight down. Their cannons may miss you.”
Jaxx gasped and closed his eyes as the Star Carrier shuddered, pummeled by enemy fire. Everything around him jostled violently. They’d been surrounded for hours. He didn’t know how they were going to survive this onslaught. Why did they usher him into combat? He’d gone through a few simulations and basic star pilot training. Nothing more. He wondered if they ran out of pilots.
His launch tube opened.
The comm line blared. “Starfighter 117, this is Mission Control. Lieutenant Kaden Jaxx, you’re ready for launch. Proceed forward.”
They say death came swiftly out here. The war had been long, decades in fact. Jaxx, a newbie; green as green could be. They shipped him to this quadrant a few days ago—a quadrant within the Sagittarius arm, between two planets with no names.
Screw those planets.
He perspired. He went to dab his face. His visor blocked his hand. No time. He had to go.
He moved the craft forward and his cockpit glowed a deep, vibrant amber as he entered the launch tube. The tube’s doors closed behind him, signaling that his time to flee the cockpit had ended. He could no longer jump out of his craft and run out of the launch bay and into the ship’s main lobby.
He wanted to. Boy did he want to. Now there was no turning back.
The tube
’s exit doors opened and Jaxx experienced weightlessness, his cockpit restraints the only thing fastening him to his seat. He saw stars out in front of him at the end of the long tube, along with a gray planet.
He prepared his starfighter for launch, then stiffened when he saw another starfighter explode in space, then flame out a moment later.
Another explosion and another.
“What happens next, Mr. Jaxx?”
“What do you mean Mission Control? I don’t understand…”
“Mr. Jaxx, you’re in a hypnotherapy session. This isn’t Mission Control. You’re safe here. You’re safe. Any feelings that come from your memories will not affect you when you awaken. You are safe. You are safe. Tell us what happens next.”
Jaxx felt the cold leather against his fingertips and opened his eyes, blinking several times. “What?”
“You’re coming out of it. A little too soon. It was intense, so it’s quite understandable,” Donny said.
Jaxx rubbed his eyes. “It seemed so real. It was as if I was there. Was I dreaming?”
Donny looked at Slade and then at Jaxx. “It was real. It looks like Slade and Captain Richard Fox aren’t the only ones who used to work with the Secret Space Program.”
Jaxx felt the chill race clear down to his bones. If Slade was part of this so-called “secret” space program, and he was a trained stone-cold killer—which he was positive Slade was—what did that make him?
5
May 24th
Underfoot Black, Grenada
The lights were out and Jaxx flipped onto his side. In bed, he couldn’t sleep. He fluffed his pillow and plopped his head on top of it for the umpteenth time, doing his best to forget about yesterday’s hypnotherapy session. Ten minutes of shut-eye would be grand, but he was stuck on an endless loop, Secret Space Program, starfighter, pilot, killer…
“No way. You can’t be part of a ‘Secret Space Program’ and forget it. They’re planting fake memories. I don’t know why or how, but that’s the only logical explanation.”
Ascendant Saga Collection: Sci-Fi Fantasy Techno Thriller Page 4
