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As I stepped off the elevator I heard someone call from across the lobby. “May I help you?” “Yes, I’m here to see Mr. Falconbridge.” “Do you have an appointment?” “Yes.” “Your name?” “Anton Koryenko.” “Do you have a business card Mr. Koryenko?” “Sure.” Fumbling through my billfold, I eventually produced a crumpled copy, my last one. There was a phone number written on the back. It looked familiar but I couldn’t remember whose it was. I handed the card to the receptionist. “Mr. Falconbridge is currently on a conference call. If you’ll take a seat I’ll tell him you’re here when he’s finished.” “Do you know how much longer he will be?” “No. Sit down.” “Thank you, but I did have an appointment at one.” “I’m sorry, you will have to wait like everyone else.” “I understand, but I’m here at the request of Mr. Falconbridge. If he doesn’t have time today perhaps we can reschedule.” “Either sit down or get the hell out.” “Excuse me?” “You may use the elevator or the stairs, or if you prefer you can jump out that window over there!” “I see.” “If you decide to use the window I’d appreciate it if you’d try to clear the scaffolding on the eleventh floor. The window washer is my brother-in-law.” “I never jump out of windows.” “You don’t know how much that disappoints me.” “Have a nice afternoon ma’am.” I headed for the elevator. “You will be expected to respond to our invoice within one week.” “Excuse me...” A door to an inner office then opened. A well-dressed man is his early-fifties came out and placed a legal folder into a tray on the receptionist’s desk. His gray hair was near shoulder-length. A thick scar across his right temple malformed the skin around the corresponding eye bestowing him with a permanent scowl. The outward image of this man was one of trouble, but not the sort who seeks trouble deliberately. Instead, his seemed more the look of a man whose interests presumably unavoidably obliged him to frequent places where trouble is extraordinarily abundant. His good eye seemed one of intelligent calmness and grave solemnity, yet in the gaze also was indicated an overriding distraction, as if the mind behind it were laboring with an intractable conundrum. Perhaps this concern was in some way connected to the purposes behind his contacting me. I pressed the elevator call button as I thought about these things. Then I noticed him looking directly at me with both eyes, half genius, half maniac-like. I didn’t know whether to pity him or slap the hell out of him. I decided to think about the question on the elevator. The bell rang. The doors opened. I stepped forward. “Professor Koryenko?” Half in the elevator I paused. “Yes.” Extending his hand, the man approached. “I’m Lloyd Falconbridge, so glad you could come. Sorry about the delay.” “Thank you, not a problem.” “I trust Mrs. Norhauser has treated you well.” “She’s been very instructive, thank you.” “May I offer you a cup of coffee?” “Yes, that would be fine.” “Sugar – cream?” “Thank you, yes, both please.” “Florence, two cups of coffee please.” We entered a spacious and expensively appointed office. In the center of the room was a sizeable oak table covered with maps, charts, reports, and books. Falconbridge closed the door. Large tinted windows encompassed at least half the surface area of the outer walls. Bookcases covered most of the other two walls. For a moment we paused, gazing down at the city twenty floors below. The view overlooked Wheatcroft Bend of the Tradewater River. Some fishermen congregated in the shade beneath a row of catalpa trees along the far bank. Behind them lay East Hockertown, Campbellsville Run, and the picturesque highlands of Caldwell County in the distance beyond. Falconbridge finally broke the silence. “I never seem to get tired of this view.” “I can understand why.” “It took me thirty-five years to get here.” “It’s quite an achievement.” “That’s one way of looking at it, but the reality is somewhat more complicated.” “So how may I help you Mr. Falconbridge?” “Dr. Koryenko, our research indicates that you have some experience in the area of archaeological cryptology.” “Some, yes.” “What sort of projects have you been involved with?” “Well, I worked with the E.F. Clydeson Adams Foundation for several years in decoding the Kristiansand Parchments.” “After Kristiansand, Norway?” “That is correct. Have you heard of them?” “No, but I am very curious. What was the nature of these parchments?” “They were ancient scrolls containing sequential historical narratives.” “What sort of narratives?” “I am contractually prohibited from revealing their content.” “What language were they?” “I’m sorry, I cannot discuss it. All I can tell you is that the language was very old and had never been seen before.” “If it was a new language how were you able to translate it?” “There was a pictographic encryption key engraved on the inner walls of the sarcophagus in which the scrolls were found. This key displayed 4,096 individual drawings of common objects, each aligned with corresponding alphanumeric and phonetic symbols. A cryptologic algorithm was then used to decode the language digitally.” “Fascinating.” “It was a fun project.” “Well, Dr. Koryenko, it seems that I need assistance with a very similar problem.” “What sort of problem?” “Something that may also be of interest to you personally.” “What do you mean?” “I understand you have traveled extensively in the East.” “My journeys have taken me through that part of the world a time or two.” “On any of your trips did you ever visit the remote province of Kiji Jitu?” “Yes, why do you ask?” “Did you make it to Phet-nim’juum, also known as The City of the Seven Sacred Hawks?” “I have seen the Kir’nele’jou.” “The temple or the statue?” “Both, my base camp was located at the west barricade for three years.” “What kind of base camp?” “I was on the team that discovered the Lekjing Labyrinth beneath the temple complex. I spent almost two years underground decoding the Trikub’unda Glyphs.” “You’re kidding?” “I’m serious.” “Get the hell back.” “No, I mean it.” “But I’ve never seen your report.” “That’s because I haven’t published anything on it.” “Why not?” “I don’t know.” “A paper like that could make you famous.” “I don’t want to be famous. There are certain benefits to anonymity.” “Really!” “Yes.” “You sound exactly like the kind of man I need for the team I’m putting together.” “What kind of team Mr. Falconbridge?” “Call me Lloyd.” “Okay.” “I’m looking for men who can get things done behind the scenes, quietly. A team composed of men who are the best there is at what they do but are otherwise relatively unknown. Frankly, I’m looking for men just like yourself.” “I see. Well, I’m very flattered. Is there a particular purpose behind this endeavor?” “Certainly. I presume that you are familiar with the so called, Legend of the Seven Hawks?” “Call me Anton.” “Right.” “One version or another of the Seven Hawk Mythos is generally part of the dogma promulgated in anthropology departments at most mainstream universities in the U.S. and in Europe. I taught a course on the subject during my tenure at Harvard.” “Yes, that detail did weigh prominently among the many considerations deliberated leading up to the decision to request your presence here today professor.” “But surely you must understand that the Seven Hawk Myth is precisely that – a myth.” “Yes, and I have traditionally subscribed to that view myself, that is, until information of a very influential nature was recently made known to me.” “What information?” “To preface, as you may be aware, for several weeks now there have been fantastic rumors coming out of Kiji Jitu. These rumors vary considerably in their individual merits but they all seem to have some very conspicuous points in common.” “Like what?” “One, workmen conducting site excavations in preparation for a new hydroelectric dam inadvertently discovered an ancient archaeological site of unusual importance; two, upon learning of the discovery the government took control of the site and the construction project was postponed indefinitely; three, the excavations of the site are continuing 24/7 under military supervision; and four, the discovery is said to concern mythical animals seven in number.” “Do you think they’ve found the Lep’dohau Tables?” “You know the subject matter as well as anyone, so clearly professor that is one very likely scenario. However, we also believe there may be other possibilities as well.” “Who?” “Excuse me?” “ Who believes...?” “A group of concerned individuals who call themselves The Pleiades League.” “What is The Pleiades League?” “It’s not so much what, as who, professor. And for now, they wish to remain anonymous. Of course if you decide to join the expedition you will become closely acquainted with each member.” “I find all of this fascinating, but really, I don’t know if I’m the man you need, perhaps...” “...skeptical?” “...yes. You spring all of this rumor and detective business on me yet offer no proof, only weary platitudes, and now there’s a secret group involved. What am I supposed to think?” “I sympathize with you completely. It’s true that I have nothing definite to show you, yet. And I am completely aware of the need for cautious objectivity in this or any such matter. However, four days ago our advance team arrived in the area. What I can tell you is that they have already encountered some very compelling circumstantial evidence. And, based on the character of the information they have reported, it is my judgment that this phenomenon is real.” “What sort of information?” Pointing to a map on the table, Falconbridge continued. “A state of martial law apparently exists in the area north of the Juangakki River. The border is sealed tight. The Imperial Army has established roadblocks at all the crossings. Anyone trying to enter the country is subjected to rigorous scrutiny. Although some tourists are still allowed through, entry is unabashedly denied to anyone remotely suspected of having the intent of trying to reach the dig. Our operatives were turned back at every entry point. Finally, after exhausting all legal options, they were forced to enter the country by clandestine means via the Pandakahr Mountains.” “They crossed the Nafud jungle from the Yalomura River side?” “Yes” “On foot?” “Yes.” “How long did that take?” “Forty-two hours.” “That’s incredible. Where are they now?” “At a safe house on the outskirts of Phet-nim’juum.” “Mr. Falconbridge, obviously you cannot seriously expect me to be party to an organized effort to enter the territory of a foreign state without proper authorization, especially one entangled in such political instability as Kiji Jitu. Also, the activities you have described so far are arguably tantamount to espionage, or at least would likely be viewed as such by a Kiji Jitu court of law.” “That’s a contradiction of terms - Kiji Jitu court of law!” “Nevertheless, the penalty for such actions would undoubtedly be of the most severe order.” “We are well aware of the diplomatic implications, and the inherent brutality of the Kiji Jitu justice system. However, we feel there’s far too much at stake for us to simply ignore the situation. We have collectively agreed that the risk is warranted.” “The members are willing to risk their lives in such an enterprise?” “Expressly that professor.” “I do not believe that I am prepared to consent to such risk sir. I’m sorry. I wish you the best of luck.” “Before you walk out, please understand that we are willing to compensate you. Your travel expenses will be covered and you will receive $25,000 in advance and five percent of any proceeds that may be realized at the conclusion of the expedition.” “Proceeds?” “Yes, the U.S. State Department has indicated that if our mission is successful, there will be a substantial monetary reward for our efforts." “How substantial?” “I am not authorized to discuss the exact figure. However, your share should enable you to get along quite comfortably for the rest of your life.” “I’m already quite comfortable.” “Then you would be even more quite comfortable.” “I will consider it, but I need time to think it over. When do you have to have an answer.” “Our flight departs at 5:15 tomorrow morning.” “So you need my answer now?” “Yes, I’m afraid that’s the humor of it professor.” “Okay, I’m in.” Falconbridge smiled and extended his hand. “Welcome aboard. It will be a great adventure.” “Lord help me.” “Here’s your ticket and a voucher containing $35,000 in U.S. currency. Use the extra ten-thousand for your expenses. Keep all receipts. Mrs. Norhauser will reimburse you as needed.” “You bought my plane ticket already?” “It seemed prudent.” “But how did you know I would agree to go?” “Obviously I couldn’t know for sure. But I expected that a man with your background would be unlikely to dismiss such an opportunity.” “I believe you indicated that the identities of the other members would be provided to me upon my enlistment.” “Regrettably, some members must remain unnamed for now. They are the chief financial underwriters of the expedition. Their identities are known only to myself and Mrs. Norhauser. However, I can tell you the names of the advance team if you like.” “You mean the people who claim they crossed a hundred miles of the most inhospitable, mountainous, swampy, disease-infected, vermin-run-through, carnivore-ridden, poison-blow-darted-cannibal-inhabited, equatorial jungle landscape on the planet in a mere fraction of the time one would normally expect even for the most seasoned and conditioned experts? Yes, I would very much like to know who would have the audacity to...” “...I’m sorry professor, you don’t understand. Our advance team, known as Force-7, is comprised of some extraordinary individuals.” “Like who?” “Well, there’s Randall Lee Cobb, a stone cutter from Bedford, can climb 200 feet of rope in 19 seconds and be back on the ground in four. Professional stock car driver. Master karate instructor. War correspondent. All American quarterback. Combat chopper pilot. Has a photographic memory. Knows every word in the 1960 edition of Encyclopedia Britannica. Ph.D. in botany from Duke.” “There’s Whitey Musgrave, a foundryman from Pike County. Tug-of-war champion. Flips cars at county fairs. Medal of Honor winner. Runs a mile in 4:40 with a hundred pounds on his back. Expert tracker. Can locate underground water by sense of smell. Submarine commander. Champion hurdler. Street fighter. Cryptology consultant for the National Security Agency. Ph.D. in neurology from Yale.” “There’s Jimmy Ray Cooper, a millwright from Urbana. Awarded the Navy Cross. Quick with his hands. Amateur boxer. Undefeated in 24 fights. Had a chance to go pro but quit boxing because it worried his mom. Expert in pre-Renaissance languages and cultures. Quantum theorist. Nobel laureate. Ph.D. in nuclear physics from Princeton. Oxford MBA.” “There are the Cook twins – Wayne and Perry, crop dusters from Mount Olive. Can change a flat tire without a jack or lug wrench. Swam the Mississippi River from New Orleans to Grand Tower in four weeks. Combat fighter pilots. Can solve differential and integral equations in seconds by communicating with each other using a language of chirps and clicks understood only by them. Experts in rocket engine design. Consultants to a variety of U.S. defense and aerospace contractors. Engineering degrees from Purdue and Stanford.” “There’s Paul Dean Hodge, a roof bolter from Shelburn. Can throw a twelve pound sledge hammer 113 feet straight up. Said to have put a bartender in a coma for kicking a dog. Handy with a knife. Expert marksman. Awarded the Silver Star for killing nine North Koreans with a bayonet. Champion swimmer. Can recite the complete works of William Shakespeare from memory. Tank squadron commander. M.S. in biology from University of Chicago.” “There’s Murray Chadwick, a boilermaker out of Ashland. Did some bullfighting in Spain. Sole survivor from a crew of 234 on an Austrian frigate sank by a Soviet torpedo off Kitimat, British Columbia. Lived on kelp and boiled walrus for 72 days in the arctic wilderness. Killed a grizzly bear with a boat oar. Fluent in Russian, German, Chinese, and numerous Arabic dialects. Lion tamer. Ventriloquist. Olympic cross-country skier. Concert violinist. Mechanical engineering degree from Cambridge.” “There’s Buster Meredith, an old growth logger from St. Cloud. Wrestles wolverines for sport. Catches beavers by swimming into their lodges from under water. Kills water moccasins with his teeth. Skins alligators without a knife. Mountain climber. Ascended K2 five times in three years. Bull rider. Rodeo clown. Champion pole-vaulter. Electronics expert. Developed top-secret radar components for the U.S. Air Force. Designed a satellite tracking system for NASA. Graduate of the Max Planck Institute in Leipzig.” “There’s Dutch Brown, a well digger from Paducah. Once excavated a tunnel under the Berlin Wall so the CIA could smuggle a MiG fighter out of East Germany. Hamstrung a Bulgarian KGB assassin with a ditching spade. Does 1,200 sit-ups a day. Crossed the Atlantic in an outrigger canoe. Brain surgeon. Card-counter. Lip-reader. Hypnotist. Abstract impressionist painter. Chemistry Ph.D. from Texas A&M.” “There’s Frankie Gates, a goat rancher out of Missouri. Olympic triathlon gold medalist. Hockey team captain. Tight-rope walker. Special forces paratrooper. Master sniper. Most decorated serviceman since Audie Murphy. Field promoted from sergeant to general. Recipient of the Medal of Honor, Distinguished Service Cross, and two Silver Stars. World champion archery expert. Sword juggler. Said to have killed a rogue elephant in Sumatra by chopping a hole in its skull with a broadax and shoving a flashlight into its brain. Expert safe-cracker. Professional illusionist. Dual Ph.D.s in geology and computer science from Harvard.” “And there’s Roscoe Youngblood, a barge pilot from Effingham. National arm wrestling champion for six consecutive years. Throws manhole covers like Frisbees. Breaks trees off at the stump. Math expert. Can factor fifth-order polynomials in his head instantaneously. If asked, can tell the latitude and longitude to within one second of arc anywhere he is at any time. It is said that a team of scientists from the Royal Academy once blindfolded him and flew him 900 miles in a DC-3 along a random, zigzag path on a cloudy, moonless night, on the last day of February in a leap-year. After landing they continued by motorcar for another hour whereupon they stopped and went to a specially prepared, magnetically-neutralized room at the bottom of a deep cave. The blindfold was removed and much to the surprise of all present, Youngblood not only provided them with the precise geographic coordinates but also told them that he knew they were in a cave. He further astonished them by specifying the exact depth beneath the surface. When asked to explain how he figured it out he is said to have replied: ‘Well, I got the depth simply by counting the steps. And as far as the rest goes, I thought maybe you guys might try to trick me. It sounded like a cave and it smelled like a cave, but I wasn’t sure until that third bat landed on my neck.’” “Sounds like quite a crew.” “Think what you will professor, the point is he successfully led the team across some of the most difficult terrain in the world and reached Phet-nim’juum undetected.” “What will they do now?” “That depends on you professor.” “How so?” “Upon arrival your first task is to translate the writing on an important artifact. The result will determine our next step.” “What kind of artifact?” “An obsidian dodecahedron.” “You have the Lens of Souls?” “Yes.” “Where was it found?” “A farmer’s field near Ling-dow’roon.” “Ling-dow’roon! That’s almost fifty kilometers south of Phet-nim’juum.” “Yes.” “So the army is digging in the wrong place?” “Apparently. But it could be a fluke. There’s no way to know for sure. We are hoping that translating the Lens will provide us with the answer.” “So why do you need me? Translation keys for Kiri have been available for over a year.” “The language on the Iris is not Kiri or Sutranese.” “Not Kiri?” “It contains Kiri motifs but is clearly a different language. There are numerous characters that have never been seen before. Our best guess is that it is either pre-Kiri or possibly ornamental Kiri.” “It could be Temple Kiri.” “Temple Kiri! What’s that?” “A cryptic code that may have been used by the shamans in mystic or ceremonial tablets. No examples of Temple Kiri have been observed but its existence is suggested. If the Lens is engraved in Temple Kiri, then the current model of Lep’dohau history will likely have to be completely reconstructed.” “I believe the communists have already taken care of that professor.” “Yes, but I’m referring to the history of civilization, not to the crimes of politicians.” “Is there a difference?” “We have to hope so or there would be no point in going on.” “Well spoken sir! I am confident that you will be an asset to our team.” There was a knock at the door. “Come in.” The receptionist entered carrying a tray containing an antique stoneware pitcher and an elaborate arrangement of cups and related accoutrements. “Here’s your coffee Mr. Falconbridge.” “Thank you Florence. Florence here makes an exceptional cup of coffee Professor.” “He’s lying. He usually says my coffee tastes like shoe polish.” “There’s nothing wrong with shoe polish – as long as it’s fresh, don’t you agree Professor.” “I prefer my shoe polish with sugar and cream.” “Florence, Professor Koryenko has agreed to join the team. Would you please prepare one of our standard contracts.” “As you wish Mr. Falconbridge - Professor, I will be needing some personal information for the contract.” “What information do you want?” “Address, full name, next of kin, things like that.” “I see. Mr. Falconbridge you won’t be offended if I take a few minutes to review the contract before I sign.” “No, not at all, it’s expected. Florence bring in a blank copy before you start filling out his contract.” “I put a blank copy on your desk this morning. Here professor.” “I have no next of kin. You’ll find my name and contact information on the business card I gave you.” “Thank you Florence.” “You’re welcome. By the way, Professor, about that phone number on the back of your card...” “...Yes?” “When I dialed it a woman answered in Russian. I could hear the sound of automatic weapons firing in the background.” “Yes, that would be Natasha. She operates an ordnance testing range near Darmstadt Glen. I go there sometimes.” Noticeably interested, Falconbridge looked at me and stuttered: “You know Natasha Orengawa?” “She’s an old acquaintance of mine. Why do you ask? Do you know her?” “I don’t know her...it’s very curious...I recall seeing her name in some documents I recently acquired.” “What kind of documents?” “Bills of lading, manifests, transit records, that sort of thing.” “You read bills of lading in your spare time?” “Not quite. We’ve been following the movements of certain materials in the region between Stettin in the Baltic to Trieste in the Adriatic.” “What sort of materials?” “Certain rare minerals.” “Which minerals?” “Specifically, the mineral baddeleyite.” “You‘re monitoring the movement of zirconium ore along the Iron Curtain?” “Yes.” “Why?” “We think there may be a connection with the activity in Kiji Jitu.” “I don’t understand.” “Laboratory analysis of the Lens has revealed some interesting results.” “Such as?” “Six of the twelve faces of the dodecahedron are coated with hafnium oxide.” “What, how thick?” “Seven microns.” “Jeez.” “And there’s something else.” “What?” “The obsidian is not really obsidian.” “You mean it’s not volcanic glass?” “It’s glass alright, it‘s just not natural glass. And it’s optically perfect.” “You mean it’s man-made?” “Apparently.” “What about the other six faces, why are they not coated?” “No, they’re coated with something too, but our chemists are having a difficult time identifying the composition. However, we have discovered that the material has some very unusual electrical properties.” “What do you mean?” “It appears to be a high-temperature superconductor.” “Superconductor! Leaping Lutherans, how, why?” “We don’t know. So you see professor, this thing is building into quite a mystery. And now perhaps you begin to understand the impetus of our interest and the critical importance to the ultimate security of our nation.” “Yes, of course, but how is Natasha involved?” “We don’t know. All I can tell you is that she is one of five individuals who have recently purchased metric ton quantities of baddeleyite for a third party that remains unknown to us.” “Metric ton quantities?” “Yes. The demand for baddeleyite has increased over 2000 percent in six weeks.” “I can’t believe she’d be involved in something like this.” “There’s even more to it than that professor.” “What do you mean?” “I’m afraid you will have to wait until we get to Kiji Jitu to find that out.” |