The Fifth Codex (8 page)

Dr. Saddlebirch keeps his eyes on me as I speak.  The others might be watching me as well, but for the moment, they do not concern me.  Whether he realizes it or not, his gloved fingers wander along the bottom edge of the Arachna Majora Codex in front of him.

“Please, Chance, I beg of you, stop looking at the world through an analytical prism that acts as a prison for free-flowing ideas.  Science learned over a lifetime is not itself wisdom, but how you apply that science is.  Look around you!  Fate twisting itself around destiny as if a serpent with the power to both awe and terrify – if you wish to call this faith then so be it.  Our quest, our search for a great purpose is the same as the beliefs of those who ran their fingers along the codices as you do now.  We care not for valuables, but
invaluables
.”

“It very much appears,” Saddlebirch drawls softly as he stands up, “that you wish for me to share in the faith y’all already have.  Not exactly my comfort zone, if you know what I mean.”  He sighs and removes his gloves.  “But I want to uncover the truth as much as anyone here and will help in any way I can.”

“Well
that’s
a relief,” the Admiral blurts out as he pushes himself away from the table.  This dripping sarcasm is as perfect as the wide smile he flashes the no longer so reluctant cowboy.  “1830 hours – it’s time for dinner!”

As we shuffle out of the conference room, I motion to the four soldiers awaiting our exit.  These same four had earlier delivered the codices to us.

“Each codex needs to go back into its vault,” I order.  “They do not leave the CIC, of course.”  Three of the four off to do this, I lean in close to Major Sinclair.  “You will also find a red gem with a gold necklace.  It
does not
leave your sight.”  With a nod, he follows his fellow soldiers in one direction and I chase down my fellow scientists in the other.

*****

The cafeteria I have yet to see sits inside the largest dome, the red one.  A cleverly walled off area; this cozy space hides well the large building it is a part of.  A cafeteria in name only, it is really a well-appointed restaurant.  Sturdy wood tables, handsome chairs, surprisingly good food; thinking of my barracks as well, I become quite cheery as I consider such comforts.  Upon first seeing the Antarctic wasteland, I feared my living conditions would be little more than camping.

In an attempt to make Dr. Saddlebirch more comfortable around me, I purposely sit next to him.  On purpose as well, I engage him in conversation that has nothing to do with anything important.  Everyone else around us does just the opposite.  Our relaxing dinner finished, the six of us begin our walk back to the CIC.  Now about 2030 hours, my tablet rings.

“Yes, Major?” I ask into the image onscreen.

“Your equipment is set up.  All tests complete, all systems functioning correctly.”

“
Merci beaucoup!
” I practically shout back.  Now even giddier than before, I quicken my pace.  The others – not in the best of shape – struggle to keep up.

“
Wow –
a hacker’s paradise!” Chance howls with wide eyes as we enter the translation room from the CIC.  He takes a few minutes to wander about the room and touches near everything within reach.  “Half of it I recognize, the other half not so much – that most of this equipment is illegal is probably why.”  I give him a questioning look.  “I head Mesoamerican studies at the university and see this stuff all the time.  The students I teach, some want to be archeologists, others linguists – at heart they all really just wanna be computer hackers.”

“It is not much,” I return with fake humility.  “Only what we could fit into the C-17, but it will have to do.”

Many of the same tools data hackers use to reveal passwords and read encrypted transmissions do indeed dominate the translation room.  As for which tools are legal and which are not, I have never cared before and care even less now.  Work so purposeful seldom does.  From the floor to the ceiling, banks of servers and monitors line the walls.  A number of glowing lights provide a comforting brightness to what would normally be a dark room.  In the middle of it all sits a large marble table.  Nothing sloppy or out of place, as always, my men surpass every expectation.

As the others separate a bit to inspect, I continue to tail Dr. Saddlebirch.  He slowly makes his way to a most spectacular device I treasure above any in the room.  That it captures the fancy of my fellow linguist comforts me; above any other, this tool will be most important.

“A scanner of some kind, but not really,” he whispers breathlessly.  Victor and Alfred join us.

“Designed and built under the watchful eyes of Dr. Leitz – it does that and much more.  This most sophisticated of machines can scan copper plates in not just two dimensions …
but
three,”
I finish in barely a whisper.  “Characters, scripts, engravings, hieroglyphs – it scans them into a modeling program that analyzes everything.  Almost as if it is learning – amongst countless other things – this program remembers images and pulls them into suggested groups.  If proven wrong with another scan, it moves them out and then looks for other characters that may be the same or very close.  Pure brilliance, pure genius, we are lucky to have such computers and their devices at the ready.  As for the scanner you hold; thankfully, I brought along two more.”

“
Wow,”
Chance drawls once more, but with an equally drawn out whistle this time.  “You better not show this stuff to the other Russians.  They just might lock the doors and never let you back in!”

In all seriousness, Dr. Korzhak nods his agreement.

“And that should just about do it!” I proclaim as we walk triumphantly out of the translation room and into the CIC.  This worthy conqueror flanked by her four generals now stands before Admiral Vanderbilt.  He swivels around in his black leather chair to face the five of us and smiles.  “The translation room is all set up and ready to go.  Going forward, we just have to ––”

“Good!  Now get out of here,” he tells us in all seriousness.  “All of you to bed!”

This conqueror and her generals are now suddenly nothing more than children?

“No, no, no!” the spoiled child in me protests.  The others behind me groan and growl at the Admiral to show their support.  “There are plates to separate and scan, texts to translate ––”

“And it will all be here in the morning!”  Admiral Vanderbilt’s fatherly charm then kicks in.  “Your soldiers have enough weapons to invade a small country.”  He points to them and they nod back.  Next, he points into another corner stocked with foodstuffs.  “And there is enough food and water for a colony of hibernating bears to make it through the winter.”

For this night and those still to come, the Admiral will lock my eight men (dressed in combat fatigues), the five codices, and the ‘recovered’ gem inside the CIC.  This room near impenetrable and guarded by those I trust most – aside for the translations, I have little to worry about.  I sneak a quick glance at my Patek Philippe; it is now close to 2330 hours.

We absolutely hate this, but agree – it has been a long day.  But to show our displeasure, we leave the CIC single file and with our heads down.  Five little ones told they would receive no presents for Christmas could not have owned firmer pouts.

Admiral Vanderbilt escorts me back to my barracks in one direction and the four scientists wander off in the other.  Desperate to get to sleep so I can rise early to begin, I hastily bid him goodnight.

Alone and in proper nightclothes, I walk by the safe that holds my newly found jewel.  A maddening moment suddenly sweeps over me … as if it
calls
to me.  I open the vault door, remove the blood red jewel, and admire it in my open palm.  Aside for its thin necklace, it appears the exact same as its twin I have owned for many years.  In my mind, however, I feel as if it is wholly different.  The same weight, texture, and color – I sense
this
one owns a ‘heartbeat’ I cannot feel, but am sure exists.  After closing the safe door, I walk to my bed and lay atop it.  The crimson gem clutched tight and its thin necklace wrapped around my hand, I close my eyes.  As I rub its hard edges, this brings about a peace I have not felt since arriving in Antarctica.  A peace my whispering lips pray will last the night….

*****

Rolling prairies of tall grasses that appear as if painted in swirls of gold and copper run as far as the eye can see.  Swathes of purple wildflowers dot these open fields bathed in sunlight.  Only a great mountain range and massive body of dark blue water to the south stops the plains from wrapping itself around the world.  This sea splits the mountain range into two equally massive uplifts of rock and stone.  High above, a cloudless sky dyes the heavens in the dreamiest of blue hues.  The sun rises in the east, it is light, then the sky grows darker and the sun sets in the west.  This rising and setting of the sun repeats itself many times.

As if time itself slows down, the sun rises more leisurely the next time it does so.  The snow-capped mountains towering behind them, five noble figures make their way onto the spacious field.  They soon gather close to one another.  For the most part, only these five beings can now be seen.  In a straight line from left to right and facing the same direction: a mighty Gryphon, an elegant Mermaid using the bottom third of her tail pressed against the ground to keep upright, a cloaked Sapien woman, a brawny Arachna Majora, and a proud Centaur.  They look pleased, convey authority, and dress splendidly.  Each obviously the ruler of his or her respective nation, the Centaur wears a decorative headpiece while the other four wear mighty crowns.

The rippling Gryphon King exudes a savage power, yet owns a lion’s face ending with a beak that knows wisdom.  Pinned to his sides are massive wings whose feathers possess several bold colors.  The Mermaid Queen is positively stunning.  She owns flowing long red hair and emeralds for eyes so green they appear to glow.  Her skin is not white as is the Sapien’s, but of a very light blue.  This skin tone does not lessen, but instead magnifies her magnificence.

The Sapien Queen is pretty, but nowhere near as striking as the Mermaid Queen.  Although a coal black hood covers most of her dark hair, smoky grey eyes that look ready to cast a spell on all in their sight peek through.

The Arachna King stands nearly as tall as the Centaur.  The thick hair visible under his blackened armor is a fiery red and the parts around his mouth are bright orange.  The world around him reflects off two massive eyes set between six smaller ones.  With both a white hide for horse parts and white skin, the fair-haired, bearded Centaur is at the same time rugged and handsome.  His hazel eyes are of a learned being, but their fiery glint suggests a temper as well.

From the thin gold chain around the Sapien Queen’s neck hangs a pendent.  Set in this pendent is a jewel in the shape of a perfect sphere.  To her obvious delight, this gem now gives off a brilliant red glow.  The sun beginning to travel along its downward path, this splendid scene turns gruesome.

Each sovereign – aside from the Sapien – is suddenly under attack from many foes just out of view.  Only the strikes of enemy weapons from many directions can be seen.  The Sapien Queen does nothing.  She just watches and waits as if unaware of the chaos all around … or in league with it.  The first to fall is the Centaur, then the Arachna Majora, then the Mermaid, and finally the Gryphon.  The promise of the coming sunset now casts an orange shadow upon the tallest peaks of the mountains set behind the carnage.

The moon moments away from dismissing the sun, only the Sapien Queen still stands.  Satisfied and confident, with no warning, her smug smirk twists into a fearful frown.  The gem attached to her necklace still glows, but its crimson color is so dark that it appears closer to pitch black than red.  The sun just a touch away from setting, the queen too comes under attack from what appears to be all sides.  Sparkling dust flying about the air and frantic hands making arcs in the sky to cast spells – this is not enough.  Just like the others, the Sapien Queen falls to the ground dead and the jewel sitting atop her lifeless robes shows a light no more.

Only moments after, night comes.  Another sunrise, this time the sun does not shine bright, but is of a dull grey.  In the form of massive rains, tears shed in mourning plunge from the heavens.  As if melting into the grasses, the scarlet gem, its necklace, and the bodies of the dead rulers fade away.  The sun swiftly sets and dark comes once more, but no stars twinkle brightly in the sky on this night or for the next two.  Although no more living creatures are in view … this is not the end.

The rising and setting sun having repeated twice more; on the third cycle, it sets into its highest point in the sky and is still.  It now burns so brightly as to be near blinding.  Deluges of rain that fell unabated for three straight days are no more.

A single Sapien wanders onto the field – a field that is now somehow dry.  Dressed in the clothes of a commoner, this adult man is definitely neither a noble nor royalty.  He looks across the plain.  Next, he shifts his gaze to the mountains and then to the sky.  Then, looking directly into the depths of my mind, the man motions to join him.  But his invite is not for me, it is for others.  A young woman walks onto the field.  Then comes another and another – these are children.

They next appear in groups, small and large, of both genders and all ages.  Their skin tones are of every shade and color.  Dozens, then hundreds, then thousands of them emerge as if from nowhere, yet everywhere, and explode onto the open grasslands.  Many now run not only through the open fields, but toward the mountains and into the sea.  They climb upon rocks, pick wildflowers, and frolic in the foaming surf.  Curiously, not one wears shoes of any kind.  The men laugh, the women dance, and the young ones filled with joy sing, skip, and jump all around them.

As this gleeful scene fades out of sight, a loud whisper in a haggish voice comes next:

“Remember.…”

A little time passes, then again, this single, slowly spoken word:

“
Remember
.…”

The third time nothing like the first two, each syllable tears through the darkness as if swirling wisps of frost:

“
RE – MEM – BER
….”

*****

With a sharp scream, I sit up in my bed.  The chilled fog of fear shows itself with each gulped gasp for breath.  The room is freezing, yet sweat drenches my nightclothes.  Curiously, the gem I still hold offers my body its only touch of warmth.

I leap out of bed and stammer toward the safe.  I open its door and again look down in awe at the red jewel.  As if it knows I am about to lock it away –
it resists
.  Thoughts burrow into my mind as if begging me not to.  These thoughts suggest that
I
am the master the gem has sought for millennia; that the gem will
grieve
if not by my side.

Je sais que je suis bien sur mon chemin, mais Bon Dieu!  Je suis trop jeune pour être aussi fou!
[9]

Dumped into third-world prisons a few times, loaded guns pointed at my head many more – fear has never gripped me as tightly as it does now.  In my possession the most brilliant five codices on the planet, on the cusp of a discovery that promises to reshape history, this gem in hand with a great power I struggle mightily to understand – intrigue has never so thoroughly captured both my heart
and
soul.

The image of the fifth codex suddenly overtakes my mind.  I set the gem in its safe and hurriedly close the door.  The moment the safe door locks, a brief but terrible pain tears through me.  I do not want to lock the jewel away, to remove it from my sight, but for now, this is best.

I throw on some clothes, wrap my mussed up hair in a sloppy chignon, snag my darkened glasses, and more run through the barracks door than step through it.  No time to calm my racing heart, no time to set still my spinning mind….

There is work to be done.