Threshold

He was lifted off the ground and turned around. Twenty feet away, Alexander was being treated similarly, though his arms were pinned to his sides while King’s remained free. But he continued to fight against his bonds. The injuries Alexander received were healing as quickly as he inflicted them on himself, but even he was unable to break free.

The two Richard Ridleys and the hooded man faced the pair.

Ridley’s voice filled the chamber, “Welcome, King,” but neither of the Ridleys had spoken.

The man in the middle is also Ridley, King thought. Ridley 1.0. But what’s wrong with his body?

“And our unknown adversary I presume?” Ridley said.

King saw the cloaked figure’s hood turn toward Alexander as he spoke, confirming his suspicion that he was also Ridley.

“We have much in common, you and I,” Ridley said. “Though you seem to lack my ambition.”

Alexander remained silent, his arms shaking as he tried to pull them free of the golem’s grasp.

“Or is it that you just lack the brains? After all, you were born into a world that was flat. You would have had no concept of the world as a whole. I respect what you’ve done, the lives you’ve lived. But you have been small- minded for thousands of years. Of course, you didn’t have the mother tongue. It was gone before your time. Even if you could speak the language, the lack of technology would have created logistical problems. How could you reach a planet full of people?

“Happily, that’s no longer a problem.” Ridley reached into his pocket and pulled out a flash drive. “Fifteen seconds of audio to change the world. When I’m done there will be one language again. One god. The human race will be united under me for all time.”

Ridley turned back to the table, opened a laptop, and plugged in the flash drive. King followed the cable leading out of the laptop. It hung down to the floor. From there, the cable stretched out between two of the statues and ended at a row of blinking servers. He hadn’t noticed them before, hidden in the darkness. Several more cables came out of the servers, many descending into the stone floor, and just as many rising up through the ceiling.

“You’re connected to the whole world?” King asked.

As the computer booted, Ridley turned around. “It’s a simple matter really, though not possible without the help of my Russian friends. How is Rook, by the way? Did he run into any trouble in Siberia?”

King remained stoic. Rook’s fate was something he couldn’t worry about right now.

Ridley smiled when King didn’t take the bait. “The Russians have given me access to land lines, cell towers, and satellites around the world. Their hackers have arranged for a thirty-second, all-access pass to the rest of the world’s communications. Of course, the Russians believe my goal is to hack into and collapse the U.S. financial market, but they won’t complain when they learn the truth. No one will ever complain again.”

Ridley tapped his head. “Because the real hack, that’s up here. In the human mind. Did you know that there was a time in human history when the human race was docile? Call it the subservient gene or naivete gene. Whatever you like. We were loyal, loved unconditionally, and lacked cunning. Like biped cows. We had free will to choose whether or not we would, say, eat an apple or a grape, but knew nothing of good and evil. And then, something flipped the switch.” He snapped his finger. “And we changed. We became killers, consumed with greed, lust, and envy. The original speaker of the mother tongue made us this way. I’m going to fix things.”

“So you’re flipping the switch back?” King asked. “Is that it? You’re going to save the world?”

With a nod, Ridley said, “That’s exactly what I’m doing. The human race will know peace again. There will be no war. No hate. No fear. We will be innocent once again. I’m simply modifying the language, redirecting humanity’s adoration from the original speaker of the language—to me.” Ridley stretched his arms out. “‘And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.’ You see? It’s all been prophesied.”

Ridley smiled. “But you’re still wondering how? Oh ye of little faith. Some things are beyond human comprehension, King. The origin of the universe. The emergence of life on our planet. The same science that developed the theory of evolution and the big bang theory tells us both are statistically impossible. Yet here we are. The universe exists. The human race has evolved. And it all came to be … because of a language. Whether it’s the language of God, an alien tongue, or the tones of the universe, I don’t know. I don’t yet understand its origin, but I do understand its power.”

“Like a child with a loaded weapon,” King said.

Ridley considered King’s statement for a moment, his expression darkening. “Do you understand how a nuclear sub works? Stealth technology? The Aegis combat system? Could you even tell me how to smelt the metal your weapons are made from?”

In fact, King could answer most of those questions, but the stone giant’s grip around his chest had begun to tighten. Were Ridley’s mood and the golem’s actions tied together? If Ridley grew angry enough would the golem respond by killing him? “Point taken,” King said, fighting to hide his pain.

A smile returned to Ridley’s face and the grip on King loosened. But then he said, “You should be glad you’re here, King. This is one of the few places on the planet that is protected from the change. But I’ll take care of you personally. You and your little girl.”

King’s insides ached with rage, but he didn’t fight his bonds. Buying time for the others to act was his primary goal. If he had to remain behind while they blew the place to kingdom come and made off with Fiona, he would do so willingly. The words of his father came back to him. There is no greater love than a father who is willing to lay down his life for his children. If it came to that, he would. And with that, King realized how truly attached he’d become to Fiona.

Damnit, he thought, I love the kid.

King saw the laptop was fully booted and some new software was loading up. Hoping to keep Ridley’s attention off the laptop, King asked, “What happened to you, Ridley?” King asked. “After you jumped out of the helicopter.”

The hooded Ridley turned toward King.

“I lost an arm,” Ridley replied. “Nearly my head.”

“And I was born.”

The second voice came from the cloaked Ridley, but sounded different. Had Ridley’s injuries wrecked his voice? Were his regenerative abilities not as refined as Alexander’s?

“The injection I gave myself just minutes before our brief meeting had not been perfected.” He chuckled. “When I jumped from the helicopter I had no idea if I would survive or not. But I did. I had received the regenerative gene of the Hydra, but there was one other gene that had yet to be culled. I discovered its effects when I looked in the rearview mirror of the car that carried me to freedom.”

King noticed that Alexander had stopped struggling and started listening.

“It was this side effect that spurred my continued research into the mother tongue. For years, long before we met, I searched the past for clues to long-forgotten powers—which, as you know, led me to the ancient remains of the Hydra. Ancient maps, runes, texts, hieroglyphs—I collected and studied the world’s history and came to a stunning conclusion: the Tower of Babel story is real. I don’t yet fully understand the mechanics of how mankind’s language fractured, only that it did. In the past two years I have pieced together several key phrases of the lost language that allow me to alter and reshape the physical world as well as the thoughts and emotions of the people in it. Not to mention I now have the key to ridding myself of this unfortunate disfigurement.”

“Be kind,” said the higher pitched, wet voice.

“Apologies, Adam. You will always be my first son.”

Adam. The name struck a chord with King. Ridley had been naming his golem clones after the bloodline from Adam to King David. Was this Adam the first of his lifelike golems?

“I hoped to separate myself from him—from Adam. Thankfully,” Ridley said, holding up a stone tablet, “the final piece of the puzzle arrived from Stonehenge.”

King could see a series of Egyptian-like runes covering one side of the bluestone tablet. He could probably spend his whole life on the task and never decipher what it said. Ridley, on the other hand, had apparently done so already. “One of Merlin’s greatest hits?”

Ridley grinned. “I’m afraid Merlin can’t take credit for the words recorded here. He simply recorded the words taught to him in Egypt. And it’s just one of the many ancient efforts to preserve the ancient language in stone—the