The Cydonia Objective

up the key from his brother and slipped it into the slot. The twins jumped back with a cry as a flash of light erupted from around the crack in the lid. A hiss of steam shot out in all directions, and then the cover propped up an inch.

Calderon stepped through them, put the cane under his arms, and with the brazen confidence of a man fulfilling his believed-in-destiny, he lifted the lid up and off.

He peered inside and smiled.

Alexander couldn’t see at this angle, and then the twins were climbing up, gathering around and looking inside.

“Just a bunch of clay tablets,” said Jacob.

“Goofy writing,” Isaac added. “Boring!”

“Have some respect, boys.” Calderon lifted one tablet out, holding it up. The script was familiar in places, Alexander saw. With alternating lines of ancient Greek and then the familiar script that was on the Emerald Tablet—which Alexander realized now was slightly reminiscent of the Rongo-Rongo carvings his mother had translated, the ones at that Mohenjo-Daro place, and Easter Island.

“Hey,” Alexander said. “That—”

But then the scene melted away and he was on an island, standing on a flat grassy hilltop under a pure blue sky. Below, miles from the waves that caressed the rocky shore, a hundred workers toiled in a quarry, hacking at the black granite chunks. Molding them into giant Moai that would be aligned into sacred patterns and stand guard, warding off the annihilation that comes for men when they become too advanced.

“We will be safe here?” someone asks. And there is a woman, beautiful and shapely. Tall, with long black hair blowing in the breezes around her face, obscuring her eyes. She holds a smooth piece of driftwood in her hands. On it is written that script in alternating rows, front and back.

Instructions set to animalistic myth. Instructions on how to hide. To live simply and to protect themselves.

And wait.

Wait for salvation.

“Will it be long?” she asks, her voice cracking in the wind.

“Undoubtedly,” the chief replies. “Many, many generations.”

He looks to the sky, to the defiant moon hanging high and triumphant, stubbornly refusing to yield to the rising sun. And he trembles, recalling the legends.

She notices his gaze.

“How can we think to hide?”

“We just do as we were brought up. Just as there is evil, there is good. Darkness and Light. We must hope the light will protect us.” He sighs and reaches for her hand. “But come, enough of this melancholy. We have much living to do before we pass on.”

#

Alexander blinked and it was gone. Xavier’s bushy red hair was centered in his vision, the wide blue eyes searching his. “You okay? Lost you there for a minute.”

“Yeah, I’m…”

Xavier was shoved aside by the cane, and Calderon stooped down. “Tell me you didn’t go looking anywhere you weren’t invited.”

“What do you mean?” Alexander stammered, still woozy, still smelling the salty ocean breezes and mistaking the sound of hammering and digging of the rescue attempt with the construction of the giant heads on Easter Island. “I don’t have much control over what I see. I just saw that writing and—”

“And did you see anything… blue? A wall of blue, or a congregation of people, like monks in white robes?”

“What?”

Calderon continued staring at Alexander, searching his eyes for a fear that wasn’t there. “Never mind. You’re okay.” He shot a glance at Xavier. “You too, watch yourself. We’re in dangerous territory now. Now that we have this…” He motioned to the box, the tablets.

“What are you afraid of?” Alexander asked, his voice meek.

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Does it have to do with the… Custodians?”

Calderon made a sharp breath. He spun and gripped Alexander’s shoulder, tightly. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Stop it, that hurts.”

Xavier’s hand settled on Calderon’s wrist, squeezed and pulled it back—and for a moment both men stared at each other in a contest of wills. Until the barrel of an MP5 was shoved against Xavier’s temple.

“Take it away,” Calderon whispered.

“You first,” Xavier replied, squeezing harder. “You don’t touch him.”

Calderon opened his fingers. And the gun pulled away. “Fine.” He slapped at Xavier’s hand, then turned back to Alexander. “Tell me. What do you know?”

“Oooh,” said Isaac, moving in close to Calderon’s side. “Our brother’s in trouble. Learned secrets he shouldn’t have.”

“Shut up,” Calderon hissed. “This is serious shit. Up until now I’ve had the luxury of operating without their interference, mainly because the Morpheus Initiative have drawn their attention with their plunder of the Tablet.”

“But they want it too,” Alexander said. “It’s why it was hidden so well. I learned the Custodians can see, but not as well as us. They’ve lost focus over the long years, and they’ve lost touch.” He snapped his head to Xavier. And it all spilled out of him as if he now believed it to be pure fact, never any doubt. “They’re underground, most of them. The survivors of the last age, the ones with the powers to see the damage the wars would do to the planet. Claimed to be the shepherds of the next race, the ones without any psychic abilities.”

“The grunts,” Isaac said, “as me and Jacob call ’em.”

Jacob moved into view, looking pale, as if this was a subject he had heard once and didn’t care to revisit.

“What else?” Calderon urged.

Alexander hunched his shoulders, trying to appear thinner and less consequential. “I don’t know. My mom and some of the Keepers deciphered some ancient document from the Pharos vault that had these legends.”

“About what?” Calderon prodded.

“Wars. Ancient wars,” Alexander said. “Myths like a lot of the others. The gods in the sky battling it out. Good and evil.” Excitement started building in his voice. “But they used great lightning bolts and blasted the planets. And there were two of those power things—the Tablets of Destiny. Each side had one and let loose on each other, first in small targeted ways and only to the warriors. But then it got worse, and more desperate and the one side—who based their weapon on Mars, attacked and flipped the Earth…”

“Flipped its magnetic pole,” Xavier whispered.

“…and the Earth’s forces retaliated with a weapon shot from a great pyramid that wiped out life on Mars, and then something else happened. Someone managed to steal the bad guys’ tablet and break it with a lance.”

“Marduk,” Calderon whispered, nodding and caressing the slain dragon on his cane.

“And then—”

“All right, that’s enough.” He stood. “You’ve read the same legends I have, which I’m guessing is what Robert Gregory saw as well and conveyed to me. Just proof of what our leaders have always known.”

“But,” said Alexander. “It’s true?” He waited, and after no response, said, “But if they’re still here, waiting, and there’s only one tablet left…” Alexander made the realization. “It should have been destroyed, too, if Thoth had not been so cautious.”

“Maybe,” said Xavier, “he kept it around in case mankind had need of it again someday. In case the threat wasn’t gone for good.”

Calderon nodded in agreement. “In case the enemy regrouped and was determined to claim its revenge.