Area 51: Excalibur-6 (6 page)

"So I have heard," Brynn said.

Merlin looked about. "They would have brought Arthur here."

"He died right there." Brynn pointed toward the nearest stone wall of the abbey.

"And Excalibur?"

"No sorrow?" Brynn folded his arms across his chest. "No sign of grief for the death of your king?"

"I knew he was dead," Merlin said. "I have grieved in private."

"I doubt it."

Merlin straightened, drawing himself up, and despite his worn condition, Brynn took a step backward.

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"I did what I did for the land, for the people."

"It did not work," Brynn noted.

"It was better than hiding in a cave with old papers," Merlin snapped.

"Was it?" Brynn didn't wait for an answer. "The land is worse off than it was.

Many have died. The Grail was almost lost. The sword too."

"I know about the Grail. One of your fellow Watchers has it."

"It is good that you don't consider yourself one of us any longer," Brynn said.

"You betrayed our order."

"I went beyond our order as must be done at times," Merlin said. "You will return the Grail to Egypt?"

"That I cannot tell you."

Merlin shook his head. "Returning to the status quo. That would be fine, except what is the status quo?"

Brynn frowned. "What do you mean?

Merlin stamped his foot on the Tor impatiently. "Our order has watched since the time of Atlantis. We once worshipped the 'gods.' And when they fought among themselves, many of our people died and Atlantis was destroyed, the survivors scattered.

"I talked with Arthur many times—he was a Shadow of one of these creatures. He knew much of the great truth."

"'The great truth'?"

"What do we know?" Merlin asked Brynn. "Do we know where the 'gods' came from?

Why they are here?"

The look on Brynn's face indicated he didn't even understand the questions, never mind wonder about the answers.

Merlin sighed and dropped that line of thought. "Excalibur is more than just a sword. It does others things. And the war will come again. And both sides will want it. And men like me"—Merlin nodded, acknowledging his 43

role in recent events—"will try to use Excalibur also as a symbol. But it is more than a symbol. It has a purpose, a very critical purpose. It is a critical piece, one of several, in a very ancient puzzle."

Brynn waited, listening.

"I am here to make amends," Merlin said.

"And how will you do that?"

"Excalibur must be hidden better than this place."

"I do not—" Brynn began, but Merlin slammed the butt of his staff onto the stone floor.

"Listen to me, Brynn. The sword must be hidden. Since it was brought out, those whom you watch now know where it is. We—I—awakened those better left sleeping and they sent forth their Shadows to do war to try to gain the sword and the Grail. Both were hidden for many generations but now this place is no longer safe. You know that or else you would not have sent away the Grail."

"How do you know this?"

"Watchers are so ignorant. I was ignorant, but I have traveled far and seen much. Have you even read some of the papers you guard so closely below? That is what I spent my time doing while I was here."

"I have read those scrolls I can," Brynn argued.

"And the ones you can't read? The ones written in the ancient runes?"

"None can read them."

"I could and can."

"And what do they say?" Brynn asked, interested in spite of himself.

"The decision that demanded that our sole function be merely to watch what transpired was made by a vote at the first Gathering of Watchers. And it was not unanimous. There were those who thought watching wasn't enough and 44

action needed to be taken. That man would be best off if we continued to fight for freedom from the Gods and their minions."

"But the vote was to watch," Brynn said simply. "It is the rule of our order."

Merlin sighed in frustration. "But it was a decision made by men. And we are men. We get to change it."

Brynn shook his head. "The order would never change that. And there has not been a Gathering in memory."

"You are ignorant," Merlin said.

"What will you do with the sword?" Brynn turned the subject from things he knew nothing of.

'Take it—and the sheath that contains it—far from here. And hide it well in a place where men—and those who pretend to be men—cannot easily get to it."

"There is no reason for me to believe you," Brynn said as he turned back toward the doorway.

"I was wrong."

Brynn paused.

Merlin continued. "We should not get involved with these creatures and their war among themselves. We do not have the power for that."

"And?" Brynn demanded. "That is the Watcher's credo. To watch. Not to act. Which you violated."

"And that is wrong also," Merlin said. "We must not just watch. We must act. But not in the way I did, trying to imitate these creatures, allying with one side or the other. I thought Arthur—" He shook his head. "I was misled, as the priests of old were. We must keep ourselves separate. Completely separate. And fight them when we have to and when we can do so with a chance of victory."

"What does that have to do with the sword?" Brynn asked.

"It is a thing each side needs in order to win the civil war,"

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Merlin said. "And now they know of this place and it is easily accessible. That is why Excalibur must be removed. It can not be found by Aspasia's Shadow or Artad's followers or others, even more evil, who would seek to destroy it."

Brynn's face paled. "The Ancient Enemy?"

Merlin nodded.

"I thought that was just a myth made up by the priests. Like the Christians have their Satan opposing their God."

"There is always some truth in every myth," Merlin said.

Brynn ran a hand through his beard, obviously shaken.

"You say it is the rule of the Watchers only to watch," Merlin said. "Then how did Excalibur and the Grail come here in the first place?"

"They have traveled far over the ages. Joseph of Ari-mathea brought them here for safekeeping from Jerusalem."

"And did he not violate the rules of your order by doing so?"

Brynn reluctantly nodded.

"Then let me right that wrong and remove them from here. Then you can go back to watching."

"Excalibur is safe now," Brynn said with little remaining conviction. "I know that—"

Merlin cut him off. "The Grail has been sent away. The sword must be sent away also. They came here to retrieve Arthur's ka, didn't they?"

Brynn slowly nodded. "Yes. The Ones Who Wait."

"Then they know this place. They will be back."

"It is what I fear," Brynn admitted.

"They can always find the sword here," Merlin said, "but I can put it in a place that will be difficult, if not impossible, for them or any others to find and bring back."

Brynn frowned. "Where?"

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"On the roof of the world where someone might be able to reach it, but never survive long enough to be able to bring it back down."

"Where is this roof?"

"Do not concern yourself with that." Merlin smiled. "You have nothing to fear if the sword isn't here."

This last bit of logic finally came home to rest with the Watcher. "Come." Brynn indicated for Merlin to follow him.

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CHAPTER 4: The Present

AREA 51, NEVADA

Turcotte opened the door to the med lab and jerked his thumb toward the hallway.

"Leave," he ordered the doctor.

"I don't think you have the—"

Turcotte had his 9mm pistol out of the holster and pointed at the man in the white coat before he could finish the sentence.

"Leave," Turcotte repeated, pulling the hammer back with his thumb as punctuation.

The doctor scuttled out of the room, the door swinging shut behind him.

Turcotte threw the file folder he'd been given by Major Quinn onto the examining table on which Lisa Duncan was sitting. "Read."

She picked up the folder and opened it. She had barely begun to peruse it when she started shaking her head.

"What?" Turcotte demanded.

"This can't be right."

"Why would someone make it up?" Turcotte asked.

She looked at him. "Why have you been checking on me?"

"I haven't. Quinn has. And apparently he was right to."

Duncan frowned. "But this"—she shook the folder— "isn't correct. I am who I am."

"When was the last time you saw your son?" Turcotte asked.

The frown deepened as she tried to remember.

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Turcotte didn't give her much time to think. "Was it before you ordered me to go to Area 51? Before all this started?"

She slowly nodded. "Yes. We've been so busy since the discovery that—"

"You had time to see him if you had made the time," Turcotte said. "When we were together at your house in the Rockies. I should have known something was strange. I was there but he wasn't. You told me he was with his father, your ex-husband. But there is no father—and no son."

Duncan's pale face flushed red with anger. "I have a son."

"No, you don't."

"That can't—"

Turcotte cut her off. "Why did you order me to go to Area 51?"

"There were reports of irregularities at Area 51," Duncan said. "My son—" she began, but he cut her off once more.

"Quinn hasn't found any of those reports. And he was part of Majestic's support team. He knows how tight security was. And he knows there were no leaks."

Turcotte reached over and took the file from her hands. "And you were appointed as scientific adviser via paperwork—no one ever interviewed you. Hell, your entire background is a fraud. No one cared who the hell the national science adviser was. No one checked. In fact, it appears that someone used Majestic's clearance to get you the slot, yet Quinn has found no record of Majestic doing that. What better way to get someone after Majestic than by using their own security clearance?"

"No." Duncan was shaking her head. "No. I—" She fell silent, overwhelmed.

"Who are you?" Turcotte asked. The strain of the past several weeks, of combat, of seeing men die, of winning

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battles against the aliens and their minions but always seeming to be behind in the war, was too much for him. He stepped up next to the table, his face close to Duncan's, his voice rising. "Who are you? Why have you done all this?" His hands were on her shoulders, shaking her. "Why?"

"I don't know. I don't. I don't!"

Turcotte blinked, let go of her, and stepped back. Tears were streaming down Duncan's face. He went backward until his legs hit a chair and he collapsed into it. He put his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. His body began shaking. Abruptly he stood, sending the chair flying. He grabbed the door and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Yakov, Che Lu, and Mualama were in the hallway. The Russian stepped in front of him. "My friend—"

"I am not your friend," Turcotte snapped. He poked a finger in the Russian's chest when the man refused to move. "Your 'friend' Katyenka betrayed us in Moscow. You came back here with a bug on you. You shot her—" He jerked a thumb at the door behind him. "What do you know that you haven't told me?" He spun toward Che Lu. "And you? Why did you suddenly decide to go into Qian-Ling?

Convenient timing there. Right after Majestic was compromised." Then he turned on Mualama. "And following Burton? Lying to us about being a Watcher. Telling us about his manuscript in bits and pieces and only the parts you want to." He shoved Yakov out of the way. "I'm done with all of you."

Turcotte made a beeline for the outer door and walked into the bright Nevada sunshine. He blinked, his eyes smarting. At first he thought it was the light, but when he put his sunglasses on they still hurt. He realized he was crying.

Turcotte walked away from Area 51 toward the desert.

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QIAN-LING, CHINA

The Silk Road was the first connection between East and West in the ancient world. It stretched over four thousand miles from Xian in the northwest of China, across the north China Plain, through the Pamirs and the Karakoram Range to the walled city of Samarkand, across the great desert to Damascus and on to the Mediterranean ports of Alexandria and Antioch. From there ships could sail on to Greece and Rome and traders could travel the land routes inside those kingdoms.

It was the route that Marco Polo traveled for three years to become the first Westerner to see the Inner Kingdom of China, but that was long after the road had been established. The Silk Road was also the path that the Black Death had taken in the opposite direction hundreds of years later in the fourteenth century. Historians had traced the deadly track of the bubonic plague from China, along the Silk Road, to Mediterranean ports and on to the rest of Europe.

In five years it killed over twenty-five million people, reducing the human population of the planet by one-third. Percentagewise it was the most devastating event ever to strike mankind, far eclipsing the devastation of the world wars centuries later.

And it had started right there in Qian-Ling—an attempt by Artad's followers to strike at the Mission's growing power in Europe and the Middle East and level the playing field. And the Mission had just recently tried the same thing in South America in an attempt to wipe out mankind and pave the way for Aspasia's arrival from Mars—an attempt that was stopped at the last minute by Mike Turcotte.

When China was young, the balance of power was in the West, and Xian was the capital city. The first true ruler of

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China, the Yellow Emperor ShiHuangdi, held sway there during his reign. In reality, ShiHuangdi had been a Shadow of Artad. According to legend, when he died, he was buried in a massive tomb, larger than even the Great Pyramid of Giza. This tomb was called Qian-Ling. A man-made mountain, over three thousand feet high, Qian-Ling, like Area 51 and the Great Pyramid, was more than it appeared to be. In reality the Shadow had simply returned to the place where he had been "born," and his memories absorbed.