Seven Ancient Wonders (13 page)

The Jamaicans introduced a tall dreadlocked fellow named Sergeant V.J. Weatherly, call-sign:
Witch Doctor.

The New Zealanders offered a big hairy-faced NZAF pilot nicknamed
Sky Monster.

Last of all, the Irish proffered two representatives: one of which was the only woman to join this special multinational unit.

They sent Zoe Kissane and the giant fellow who sat at her side, her brother, Liam. Both hailed from the famed Irish commando unit, the Sciathan Fhianoglach an Airm.

She introduced herself: ‘Sergeant Zoe Kissane, hostage rescue, advanced medical. Call-sign:
Bloody Mary.’

He did too: ‘Corporal Liam Kissane, also hostage rescue, bomb disposal, heavy arms. Call-sign:
Gunman.’

And there they stood, around the wide table, the nine chosen representatives of eight small nations who were about to embark on the mission of their lives.

They would acquire a tenth member soon—Stretch, from Israel— but he would not be a member of their choosing.

They prepared to leave. A plane was waiting to take them out of Ireland and to the secret safehouse.

At the door, Abbas spoke to his son, Saladin, in Arabic. One word kept arising: ‘
bint
’.

The short fat trooper nodded.

As he did so, West stepped past them, walking out the door.

‘If you’re going to talk about her,’ he said, ‘please stop calling her “the girl”. She has a name, you know.’

‘You named her?’ Saladin said, surprised.

‘Yes,’ West said. ‘I named her Lily.’

They commenced their journey to the safehouse.

It was in Africa, in Kenya, but for secrecy’s sake they took a long circuitous route to get there, taking several flights over several days.

On one of these flights, Saladin said to Epper, ‘At the meeting we were given an extract from a book. It told of the Capstone and the Tartarus Sunspot. What is this Tartarus Sunspot and what relationship does it bear with the Great Pyramid and its Capstone?’

Epper nodded. ‘Good question. It is a most curious relationship, but one that takes on a new level of importance at this time.’

‘Why?’

‘Because in ten years’ time, in March 2006, we will see the second great turning of the Sun in modern times, a solar event that has not occurred in over 4,500 years.’

The big-bearded Arab frowned. ‘The second great turning of the Sun? What is that?’

‘Although you can’t see it, our Sun actually spins on its own axis, much like the Earth does. Only it doesn’t turn in a flat, even rotation as we do. Rather, it rocks slowly up and down as it spins. As such, every 4,000–4,500 years, a certain section of the Sun—a sunspot known as the Tartarus Sunspot—comes into direct alignment with our planet. This is a bad thing.’

‘Why?’

‘Because the Tartarus Sunspot is the single hottest point on the surface of the Sun,’ Zoe Kissane said, coming over and sitting down. ‘The ancient Greeks named it after one of the two realms of their Underworld. The nicer realm was the Elysian Fields: it was a place of eternal happiness. The nasty one, a cursed land of
screaming, flames and punishment, was known as the Tartarus Plains.’

‘Global temperatures have been rising steadily for twenty years now,’ Epper said,’because the Tartarus Sunspot is approaching. When it shines directly upon the Earth, as it has done before, for about two weeks, temperatures will rise to unbearably high levels, around 110° Celsius.

‘Rainforests will shrivel. Rivers will boil. Humankind will have to move indoors for that time. It will be a literal scorching of the Earth, but it is survivable.

‘The problem is: the polar ice caps will melt, causing massive global floods. The oceans will rise by perhaps 15 metres. Many coastal cities worldwide will be severely damaged. But as I say, this is survivable, given due warning.’

‘Okay . . .’ Saladin said.

Epper wasn’t finished. ‘Now, we have geological records of similar mass global water-risings in the past—specifically in the years 15,000 BC, 10,500 BC and 6,500 BC.

‘The flood of 15,000 BC is believed to have been the giant oceanic movement that flooded the Persian Gulf; while the flood of 10,500 BC is widely acknowledged as the "Great Flood" mentioned in religious texts worldwide: Noah’s flood in the Bible, the floods mentioned in ancient Sumerian texts; even the Australian Aborigines refer to a Great Flood in their Dreamtime folklore.

‘The most recent global flood, that of 6,500 BC, broadly correlates with the worldwide episode of water-rise known as the Flandrian transgression, where entire coastlines were submerged by about twenty metres.’

Epper leaned forward to make his point: ‘All three of these major global floods occurred during a Tartarus Rotation.

‘The thing is,’ he raised a finger, ‘in 2,570 BC, during the most recent Tartarus Rotation,
no such mass global flooding took place.’

Saladin frowned. ‘You’re saying that something stopped the cataclysm? Something to do with the pyramids?’

‘Yes,’ Epper said. ‘It’s complicated but, you see, prior to King
Djoser in 2,660 BC the Egyptians
never
built pyramids. And after Menkaure in 2,503 BC they stopped building giant ones. The fact is: for a period of 160 years, the Egyptians went on an absolute frenzy of pyramid-building, the high-point of which was the Great Pyramid.
And then they never did it again
.

‘They just stopped . . . immediately after the Tartarus Rotation of 2,570 BC. Later Egyptian architecture was certainly impressive and colossal—
but it didn’t involve pyramids
.’

‘So you think the Egyptians knew something about the coming of this Tartarus Sunspot?’ Saladin said. ‘What, were they visited by aliens or something and told to build the Great Pyramid and put this special Capstone on it?’

Epper just raised his bushy eyebrows theatrically. ‘I don’t know why the Egyptians started building pyramids. But they did. In a rush and on a scale never seen before then and not seen since. And for some reason, the Tartarus Sunspot had no effect on planet Earth in the year 2,570 BC. The Great Pyramid was built, the sunspot passed—harmlessly—and the Egyptians took down the Golden Capstone, hid it, and stopped building pyramids.’

‘So how do you explain it?’ Saladin asked.

‘Putting aside for the moment all the occultist literature, I believe the crystals in the Capstone are the key. I think the Capstone is a polariser, a crystal array that absorbs the superhot rays of the Tartarus Sunspot, rendering them harmless.’

‘And the occultist literature? These tales about obtaining global power for a thousand years?’

Epper’s face became grave. ‘The scientist in me scoffs at them. But something else gives me pause before discarding them completely. I’ve seen enough in my life to know that some things defy scientific explanation.

‘The inscription on the summit of the Great Pyramid tells of placing the “Benben”—that’s another word for the Capstone—
at sacred site, on sacred ground, at sacred height
within seven days of the arrival of the minor sunspot, Ra’s Prophet.

‘This is a reference to an ancient ritual, a ritual passed down
through the Cult of Amun-Ra, a ritual to be performed at the arrival of the Tartarus Sunspot. This ritual involves the intoning of a sacred incantation—the words of which are carved
into
the very Pieces of the Capstone.

‘But this ritual can be performed in
two
ways: one for good, the other for ill. With the Capstone in place atop the Great Pyramid, if you utter the noble incantation—known as the ritual of peace—the world will be spared the wrath of Tartarus and life will go on. This is also to our advantage: if we fail in our quest to obtain a Piece of the Capstone, we could yet be able to utter the good incantation over the replaced Capstone.’

‘And the evil spell?’ Saladin asked hesitantly.

Epper’s face went grim.

‘The evil incantation—the ritual of
power
—will also spare the world from the blaze of Tartarus by capturing the Sun’s rays in the Capstone’s crystal array, but at a terrible price.

‘For, according to the ancient texts, when the entire Capstone is placed on the summit of the Great Pyramid at noon on the seventh day and a designated amount of pure soil from one nation is placed in a crucible inside it
and
the ritual of power is uttered, “all earthly power” will be invested in that nation for 1,000 years.’

Epper stared at Saladin. ‘The Capstone is the ultimate test of mankind’s mettle. In the face of cataclysm, it can be used selflessly for the universal good, or it can be used selfishly, to attain absolute power.’

‘Or there is the third option,’ Saladin said. ‘Our option. If we obtain a single Piece of this Capstone and withhold it, we condemn the world to two weeks of catastrophic weather and floods, but not 1,000 years of slavery. A lesser-of-two-evils argument, Dr Epper?’

‘Something like that,’ Epper said quietly. ‘Either way, my Arab friend, the fate of the world now depends on our efforts.’

VICTORIA STATION, KENYA
1996–2006

VICTORIA STATION SOUTHERN KENYA 1996–2006

Within days of the historic meeting, the team was in Kenya—living and working and training—at a remote farm-station near the Tanzanian border. On a clear day, to the south they could see the mighty cone of Kilimanjaro peeking above the horizon.

Far from the Western world.

Far from their enemies.

The farm—very deliberately—had wide flat treeless pastures stretching for two miles in every direction from the central farmhouse.

There would be no unexpected visitors to this place.

The team raised few eyebrows among the locals.

To the Kenyans, Victoria Station was just another working farm, populated by a few foreigners, all working for the old man, Epper, and his lovely wife, Doris. Grey-haired, patient and kind, she had come from Canada to join her husband on this mission and provide a much-needed grandmotherly figure on the farm.

Of course, the locals soon became aware of a baby girl on the property—every now and then, Doris or a worker from the farm would come into town to buy baby food, formula milk, diapers and sometimes toys.

But the Kenyans simply assumed that the olive-skinned girl was the daughter of the young blonde woman at the farm, who in turn
was presumably the wife of one of the men.

The locals, however, never noticed that every single night, there were always two members of the team patrolling the perimeter of the property.

Lily grew up quickly.

Indeed, she transformed rapidly from a happy gurgling baby into an inquisitive toddler who on taking her first steps became an absolute security nightmare.

It was not uncommon to see seven crack commandos frantically upturning chairs, couches or hay bales trying to find a giggling little girl who could disappear seemingly almost at will.

Then she began to talk and to read.

Inevitably, she was the product of many influences.

When she saw Saladin kneeling towards Mecca, she asked him what he was doing. It was he who taught her about Islam—only growing tongue-tied once when, as a four-year-old, she asked him why some Islamic women wore head-covering burqas.