Decipher, p.10
Decipher, page 10
Scott was excited. Felt that rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He knew what the Major was driving at as Gant turned another page.
“Or what about this? In China, the water god, Gong Gong, caused a twenty-two-year flood. People escaped to the mountains and the trees. While according to the Chickasaw Indians, the world was destroyed by water and all except one family and two animals of every kind survived.”
“You want to try another letter?” Scott suggested excitedly. “How about ‘I’? The Incas reported that torrential rains fell and volcanoes erupted, flooding the earth and burning it. When the sky went to war with the earth, they believed the Andes were split apart. Whereas the Inuit thought there was a terrible flood followed by an earthquake that happened so fast that only the quick-witted were fast enough to flee to the mountains or take refuge in their boats.
“There are more than five hundred deluge legends around the world,” Scott summarized. “I built on the work of Richard Abdree who studied eighty-six of the legends back in the mid-1980s. Three were European, seven African, twenty Asian, forty-six American and ten were from Australia or the Pacific Rim. He found out that sixty-two of these cultures had never come into contact with the Hebrew or Mesopotamian legend—the one from which we derive Noah. That means they sprang up independently. They are distinct—and separate.”
When Scott started work on the project he found a wealth of information he frankly hadn’t expected. He’d discovered flood stories that were Roman and Scandinavian, German and Assyrian, Hebrew, Christian and Islamic. There were Sumerian flood stories and Babylonian. Chaldean, Zoroastrian, Pygmy, Kikuyu and Yoruba. There were tales of an ancient deluge from the Basonge, Mandingo, on the Ivory Coast, Bakongo, western Zaire and Cameroon. The Kwaya of Lake Victoria shared a similar tale, as did the Hindus and the Chinese. In Thailand it was the Kammu, and in the Philippines the Ifugaos. There were the Batak in Sumatra who also saw the earth resting on a giant snake. Curiously, the symbol of the snake cropped up time and time again. The list of flood myths went on and on. From New Zealand to Arkansas.
Everywhere Scott looked he had found an ancient culture that believed the earth had at one time or another been devastated by a vast torrent of water.
But there was a problem, and Scott was already starting to see the connection between Atlantis and the sun. Hesitantly he said: “Many of these same ancient myths also refer to the cyclical nature of the destruction of the earth.”
“How many myths are we talking about, Dr. Scott?” the Admiral inquired.
“If I had to hazard a guess,” Scott replied, rubbing his hands together nervously, “I’d say over a hundred. Our own Christian beliefs see the turn of the millennium as something to fear. The Age of Aquarius began in 2010—the symbol for water. The Mayans predicted a cataclysm would befall the earth on December 24, 2011. That was just three or four months ago.”
The linguistic anthropologist eyed everyone around the table. Deeply concerned.
“The Dusan tribe of western Borneo, or Kalimantan, have the idea that the sky retreated when six of the original seven suns were killed,” he explained. “The pre-Hispanic Mexicans believed various past ages were each brought to an end by violent upheavals. In the old Mayan Annals of Cuauhtitlan, written in 1570 but based on texts thousands of years old, these past ages were called ‘suns.’ They were epochs, or in Mayan: Chicon-Tonatiuh. Even Amerind people, and remote tribes of the Amazon have beliefs that many times over the earth has been destroyed by fire, prolonged darkness and a deluge.
“The Voguls of Siberia believed recurrent devastation was accompanied by terrible thunder. The Welsh Triads refer to three cataclysms as a deluge, a fire and a drought. Anaximenes and Anaximander of the sixth century B.C.E, and Diogenes of Allollonia in the fifth century B.C.E speak of the world being periodically destroyed and reborn. Aristarchus of Samos, two hundred years later, said the earth underwent destruction by fire and water every two thousand, four hundred and eighty-nine years. The people of Hawaii, the Bengal Sea, the early Icelanders and the Hebrew traditions all share similar myths. The Visuddi-Magga, the ancient book of the Buddhists, mentions an older book called the Discourse on the Seven Suns, and speaks of the same periodic destruction.
“The Chwong people of Malaysia say this earth is Earth Seven and that everything is turned upside down and destroyed at intervals. Egyptians believed in Tep Zepi, the first time, before the present age when the gods walked the earth. The Greeks and Romans had this notion too. Under Hinduism it gets a little more specific. Their belief is there are four ages that span five thousand years for our existence. The Golden Age, which was unpolluted. The Silver Age, where the scattered people no longer remembered their roots or lineage and perceived themselves as different tribes and families. They say this was followed by the Copper Age, when trading began. Followed by our Age, the Iron Age—the Age of Kali, when sinning developed. The rich became richer, marriages broke down, people stole. War, technology and science became the evil of the day, until a cosmic renewal known as the Confluence Age briefly destroyed the earth by fire and flood.”
“Sounds great,” Hackett mused.
Scott added, “The Hindus say that time is now.”
“Did you also know,” Pearce added, “that the Chinese were the first people ever to chart sunspot activity?”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“Oh yeah. They’ve been doing it for more than two thousand years. They were the first people to scientifically recognize the cycle. They have twelve astrological years. Y’know, the Year of the Rooster and so on? That’s very close to sunspot cycles.”
Silence clung to the air as Gant keyed the screen. Dramatically, multiple images from the international news channels played side by side. Ferocious images. Frightening.
“At the same time the gravity wave hit Malaysia. Fifteen hundred dead in a series of typhoons. Tokyo was hit by a tsunami. Two hundred dead in earthquakes in California. And snow storms in the Midwest. Pre-tremors felt in London …”
“London?” Scott queried. “London’s not on a faultline, is it?”
“The British Geological Survey say it is. And they just started measuring activity from some unusually deep faultlines that stretch all the way across to France. Earthquakes hit London on a large scale once every two or three hundred years. The last one was in 1776. So the next one’s past due,” Gant told them. “And London, like a lot of Europe, isn’t built with earthquakes in mind. So when the big one does hit …” He didn’t need to elaborate.
“We’ve also charted for some time sunspot cycle activity which matches El Nino, and the indications are not good.”
El Nino was a weather phenomenon where an area of the Pacific Ocean the size of Europe warmed to a greater degree than usual every decade or so. The result was that the Trade Winds reversed and went East. The heat flowing with it raised temperatures several degrees farther. It meant flooding in the Americas and droughts in the Western Pacific and Africa.
“1983 was an El Nino year. It caused dust storms to hit Melbourne with ten thousand tons of dust at fifty miles an hour, creating a wall of dust five miles across. It was a hundred and ten degrees Fahrenheit in the city, a hundred and thirty in the desert. By the time of the next El Nino in 1998, most of the Pacific Basin was on fire due to massive droughts, while America and China were hit with the worst floods ever recorded. Three months’ worth of rains fell in some places in six hours. July of 1998 went down as the hottest global month ever recorded. A few years on and 2012 is shaping up to be the worst recorded year for climatic change and natural disasters in history.”
Hackett was on the edge of his seat. He raised a finger like a schoolboy. “And this is linked to the city under the ice … How?”
Gant exchanged a hesitant, uneasy look with Dower before continuing. The Admiral nodded for him to proceed. Gant pressed the button and the images on the screen were replaced with video feed from the Arctic. The image on the screen was alive with a mass of bright pink gases undulating in huge swathes across a dark sky and disappearing over the horizon.
“This is the Aurora Borealis at the North Pole—the Northern Lights, created by the plasma that’s ejected by the sun—hitting the earth’s atmosphere. Pink is good. Pink says there’s little activity. Pink says that the earth’s magnetic field is deflecting the plasma. Green … Green is bad. Green tells us that the plasma is penetrating the earth’s magnetic field and is bombarding the atmosphere. But we know the activity is bad—so bad that we’re on high alert. So where’s all the green gone?”
Hackett was cautious. “You’re suggesting Antarctica?”
“I’m not suggesting,” Gant advised. “I’m telling you. Look.”
Vast ribbons of green energy swirled above a sparkling city that sat in the darkness below.
“Melbourne, Australia. That’s how far north it’s stretching,” he said. The screen changed again. To daylight and ice. Antarctica. The caption read: Live Feed from McMurdo Station. Despite the daylight, the sky was still alive with the green phenomenon.
“That’s not unusual,” Hackett chipped in. “That happens from time to time. A plasma cloud has its own magnetic field. It’ll react to the earth’s field. When the plasma storm is positive, it gets attracted to the earth’s negative. Gets sucked right on in, and it’s going to go to the South Pole. Opposites attract.”
“Except this plasma cloud is also negative,” said Gant.
Hackett almost choked. “That … th-that is unusual.”
“Unusual? You know it’s impossible, Professor. Like does not attract like.” Figures and charts spewed onto the screen. “By our calculations, all it takes to cause a global environmental disaster is just three successive plasma storms to hit and be absorbed by the atmosphere. We’re talking storms of such magnitude that entire continents will be engulfed. Seas really will boil. Increased atmospheric pressure and ionization will trigger earthquakes and in turn will create tidal waves in the oceans. But to suck in a plasma cloud takes a power source of unimaginable proportions. Something currently beyond our own technical capabilities. Something, somewhere in what we believe to be Atlantis is the only likely candidate responsible for what’s happening. Some kind of device that the Chinese may have uncovered, and are manipulating.”
“Legend states,” Dower interjected, “that Atlantis would rise again of its own accord. For the past fifty years, despite environmental protection measures, the ozone layer in Antarctica has depleted, creating a hole that has allowed cosmic rays and other radiation to bombard it like no other place on earth. The ice has begun to retreat. So we cannot rule out the possibility that something in Atlantis is waking itself up—is reacting to what’s going on around it. London didn’t wake up. New York sure as hell didn’t react to a gravity wave. But Atlantis … did.
“We cannot prevent what’s happening to the sun. It would be ridiculous to even suggest such a thing. But make no mistake: mankind’s back is against the wall. A device that just lit up the security net of an entire superpower is something to take very seriously. There is every indication that it is speeding up the changes that are taking place within our atmosphere. It is helping—whether by design or flaw—to destroy us.”
Matheson was incredulous. “We’re looking at one hell of a machine,” he remarked, “to show up on satellite and do what it’s doing. We’re talking about a machine maybe the size of Atlantis itself.”
“We don’t know that. But we will not sit back and do nothing while our planet is climatically destroyed. Whatever’s beneath the ice does not appear to be our friend. We want it shut off. And we want it shut off—now.”
“And exactly how do you propose to do that?” Scott asked innocently.
All eyes fell on him.
“The writing’s on the wall,” Dower commented.
“Pardon me?”
“There is ancient writing—on its walls, Dr. Scott. The fact that Atlantis now exists is testament to all those ancient myths and legends you’re so familiar with. Whoever built Atlantis left a lot of incomprehensible writing scrawled all over it. They must have done that for a reason. We’re proposing that they left us some clue, some indication as to what it was they were trying to achieve. Some indication on how to switch the damn thing off.”
“Admiral, with all due respect,” Scott said, startled, “if what you say is true it’s hardly going to be like programming a fucking VCR.”
Dower took a breath. “If everything that’s taking place is down purely to Mother Nature, then we surrender. There is absolutely nothing we as a species can do about it. Just like the dinosaurs, we can kiss our asses goodbye because God’s about to wipe the slate clean. But … and it’s an uncertain but … if there is any chance at all that the structure in Antarctica is the cause of this environmental nightmare that’s unfolding, then our only option is to enter the city and turn it off. And we can do that by one of two ways. You can figure out what they wrote. Or we can install a thermonuclear device—and blow the shit out of it.
“Ladies and gentlemen, God may play dice, but we do not. We will look for any means of raising our chances of survival. And if humankind depends on it—we will destroy Atlantis.”
There were stunned expressions on the faces of the scientists sitting around the table. No one knew quite how to react. Taking a thermonuclear warhead to Antarctica was problematic for two reasons. One: it was illegal under the Antarctica Treaty. And two: the Chinese had a base sitting right above where Atlantis appeared on the map.
Dower drummed his fingers on the table. “There is one other thing,” he added quietly. “We may be able to get a dry run at this. There is the slim possibility that we may have found a second device of similar magnitude.”
Scott’s ears pricked up. “What do you mean?”
“Our use of the search parameters suggested by Dr. Hackett led to the discovery of Atlantis. And with the help of Bob Pearce’s abilities, and others at Rola Corp., we have detected a second site on this planet that appears to be giving off similar readings to Atlantis. If we can gain access, we might be able to get some insight into what to expect in Antarctica.”
Scott shot forward. “So where is it?”
el-qahira
History is a set of lies agreed upon.
Napoleon Bonaparte,
Emperor of Europe, 1769—1821
THE GIZA PLATEAU CAIRO
“For me? Aw, how sweet. I hope that thing’s got coffee in it!” Sarah Kelsey yelled, holding on tightly to her navy-colored baseball cap. The battered old EH-101 helicopter veered back up into the air behind her, whipping up a sandstorm as it went.
The company guy in the gray boiler suit and the red company cap stood clutching a gray stone long-necked jug. He exclaimed: “Afraid not! But this is for you to take a look at. What do you make of it?” He coughed up sand as he handed over the artifact. Seemed reluctant to straighten up after ducking out the way of the rotors. Introduced himself. “Name’s Eric. Eric Clemmens.” He tried to shake hands and hold on to his own hat all at the same time. His face was caked in dust. “We got a short walk,” he explained. “They won’t let us land choppers near the monuments. Sand damage, you know?” Sarah understood as Clemmens pointed her in the right direction. “So what do you think?”
“Granite,” she said, turning the jug over in her hand. “Half-inch diameter neck at the top, opening out to about six inches. No striated markings, as you’d expect. This is stone, not clay, so it wasn’t on a potter’s wheel. It was turned on a lathe, and the internal volume drilled out.”
Clemmens was elated. “That’s exactly what I said!”
“Any geologist or engineer could tell you that. Why? What’s the problem?”
“The problem? I don’t think the Egyptologists here have had any real engineers or geologists take a close look at any of the artifacts and monuments before.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because they’ve been busy dismissing anything that challenges their view of ancient Egypt. Like this jug.”
“We’re not archeologists, Eric.”
“But they say we’re wrong because there’s no evidence ancient Egypt ever had lathe technology.”
Sarah was concerned. “You can’t make a jug like this without a lathe.”
“Precisely, but I guess hard evidence just ain’t good enough for ’em.” They crossed through a minor outer complex and headed down a long gravel track. “If it was a single jug, maybe they’d have a point. But it’s not. We’ve got eleven more of these things. Plus sixteen diorite bowls, eight quartz bowls and a feldspar and quartz bowl. And they all show the same signs. Wanna know the screwy thing?”
Sarah said she did as she peered into the camp and familiarized herself with the layout as they went. The last thing she needed was to get lost.
“How fast does a modern drill work?” Clemmens asked with a shrug. “Tungsten carbide.”
That was easy. They worked for an oil company, after all. “For fine work on stone? Say around 900 rpm. Cuts into stone about one ten-thousandth of an inch per revolution.”
“Close enough. But the inner surface of this jug shows all the signs that it was drilled a tenth of an inch per revolution. At that rate it would have to have had a metric ton of pressure behind it. And on a jug this small? That kind of pressure would have blasted it apart. By my reckoning, whoever made this jug used a drill that operated five hundred times faster than the ones we use in this company.”
“Are you serious?”
“Sarah, it gets screwier with the feldspar and quartz bowl. The drill seems to have cut through the quartz portion faster than the feldspar.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” she protested. “Quartz is harder than feldspar.”
“We use a lot of vibration in drill bits to get them to cut quicker,” Clemmens said. “For the Egyptians to have cut through a denser, harder type of rock faster, I’m guessing they used vibration like an art form. Some kind of oscillation technique’s my guess. Maybe even sonic.”
