set of instructions that could be used to enhance the power of the array.”
“To do what?” Alexander asked.
“To do what I saw in my vision,” Montross replied.
“Destroy the world? But they’ll just kill everyone, even themselves.”
“The ultimate sacrifice?” Montross voiced. “Possibly. I don’t know if it’s a simple matter of revenge, or if it’s something more. Maybe they have some way out reserved for themselves.”
“I think you’re right,” Caleb said. “It is something more. Much more.” He considered everything he had learned, everything he knew about the tablet, about its connection to alchemy, to psychic powers and spiritual transformation. “I think they believe in a special kind of reward. An immortality to be obtained, at the expense of the rest of humanity.”
“Reincarnated off-planet maybe?” Montross suggested.
“I don’t know,” Caleb said. “But there are other players at work here, other forces. I can’t help recall the story of the Tower of Babel.”
“Why?” Alexander asked, then thought it through. “Oh wait. All the worlds’ people working together. Building that tower to go to heaven.”
“Maybe it wasn’t a tower,” Caleb suggested.
“Then-?”
“A rocket?” Montross said, shrugging. “But in any case, what’s important is that the gods, of which Marduk was a chief entity, were greatly alarmed by this challenge humanity was mounting against what they perceived as their realm. Their space.”
“So they knocked it down.”
“And remember the main part? They confused our tongues, made it impossible for mankind’s races to speak one language again, so that we could never again collude in such a way.”
“Yeah,” Montross said. “I never really understood that story until recently. Its implications, in light of our powers, are a bit staggering.”
“I don’t get it,” Alexander said.
“One language,” Caleb said with emphasis. “One language, which I believe wasn’t a spoken one.”
“Telepathy,” Montross offered. “Psychics. Maybe they were all psychics back then, able to share visions, thoughts, impressions. Communicate mentally, instantaneously. Combining their ideas, working through scenarios and calculations at vast speeds. Pooling their resources in ways we can’t imagine today.”
“The gods didn’t like that,” Alexander said.
“Maybe because they thought only they should be able to do it, and having a race that multiplied and expanded like ours, with access to that kind of unchecked power was just too much. Who knew what we’d do?”
“So,” said Montross, “they knocked us down. Took away the gift, wiped it from our minds somehow.”
Caleb nodded, still working it through. “But maybe a few of them didn’t agree with this action. Some had mankind’s interests at heart, and felt responsible for our protection.”
“Thoth,” Alexander said.
“He preserved a way for us to reacquire those powers. Codified it, wrote it down on something that would outlast even the gods. And his followers, even if they couldn’t read it or discover a way to find it, sought to protect it from the other side, the lingering elements of those like Marduk. Men who now realized they could have it both ways-restore their own powers, advance themselves to immortality, and then close the door on the rest of us. Forever.”
Montross nodded again. “So, back to HAARP. I went there, entered with a visitor’s pass, and studied the layout, analyzed the guard shifts, the defenses. All with thoughts about blowing it up somehow, or killing everyone who might be involved. But in the end, I couldn’t get in where I needed to, couldn’t get close to the central control chamber.”
“Why not?” Alexander asked. “If it’s just a research place?”
“Co-funded by the U. S. Army, the Air Force and the Defense Department.” Montross smiled. “Further fuel for the conspiracy nuts who, by the way, have been blocked at every turn, discredited and turned away despite some quite logical questions about the functions and research done at HAARP, and the patents they have on file-patents which demonstrate clear military applications.”
“Okay,” Caleb said. “So sabotage isn’t a likely possibility.”
“Every time I embarked on an idea or outlined a mission, I was struck with a vision of pre-emptive death. I would fail. They would kill me before I even got close. The place has defenses no one could have imagined. Nobody gets close without their permission.” He sighed again. “No, the only way, the only possibility that offered a glimmer of success, was this one. Getting the tablet myself.”
“But that wasn’t enough,” Caleb said.
“No. But I knew it would buy us time. Robert was going to find it soon himself if I didn’t trick him and take it first. He would have used Alexander against you and made you open the vault. So I had to do it my way.”
“You could have destroyed it,” Alexander said in a shaky voice, as if fearing even by voicing such an option he might be committing the worst sacrilege.
Montross shook his head. “It’s nearly indestructible.”
“What about going all Lord of the Rings on it and tossing it in a volcano? That should do the trick.” Alexander beamed at the concept. “Or-like in The Incredibles, remember, Dad?”
“What?” He frowned, trying to follow.
“The only thing that could break through the metal skin of the indestructible enemy robot?”
“Oh yeah,” Caleb said, remembering. “Itself. Something made of the same material.”
“Maybe,” Montross said. “But the point is moot now, since we don’t have it.”
“But,” Alexander said, still giddy with the thought of a new quest, “once we get it back, we need to be ready. And can’t let it get in their hands again. I say destroy it.”
“We could hide it,” Caleb offered. “I don’t want to lose such a gift, if possible.”
Montross shook his head. “No, it gives off radiation. Minimal, but enough to locate it if you’ve got the right equipment. Satellites could locate its signature. Can’t bury it. Can’t drop it in the ocean. No, short of launching it on a rocket to the sun, I had to find another way.”
“So you knew there were two components. The tablet alone wasn’t enough. No one today could still read it.”
“I needed the translation, the cipher.” He pointed to the box. “Located here.”
“Well,” said Caleb. “We’ve secured it, stopped them.”
“For now. But they’re coming.”
Alexander’s face brightened. “Can we destroy these things? The books in the chest? Or the keys themselves?”
“The keys, no. They’re made of the same stuff as the tablet. But the books? I would assume we can demolish those.”
“Then let’s do it!”
“The only problem,” said Montross, “is that we might not be able to open the chest.”
“But we have the keys.”
“Try them.”
Alexander glanced at Caleb.
“Trust me,” Montross said. “We don’t die now. I just think it won’t open.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “Kind of like the door outside, I’d wager. Having the keys gets you to the event, but you still have to ask the right girl before you get to dance.”
Alexander frowned. “You mean, I have to ask the right questions? RV something else-maybe inside the box?”
“I don’t think so. I believe you were right before. All three of you are needed.”
Alexander looked crushed. “Well, so what do we do? The box looks pretty heavy, we can’t take it with us. If there even is a way out of here.”
“There’s a way,” Caleb insisted. “I saw it.”
