The Truth

CHAPTER 8: THE PRESENT

For thousands of years, Airlia scientists had watched worlds being formed, carefully studying the mechanics of creation. In doing so, they’d also learned the opposite: how to use that information to damage or even destroy a planet. They’d tracked the evolution of a planet’s birth at various stages and that data was stored inside the guardian computers. What Aspasia’s Shadow had prepared on Easter Island as part of his revenge was based on that information.

In the beginning, Earth was merely a cluster of small rocks that came together 4.6 billion years ago as a result of the minute gravitational forces of those rocks. Six billion years later the collection was bombarded by asteroids and meteorites. That lasted millions and millions of years, producing immense amounts of energy, which in turn produced extremely high temperatures that reduced the entire planet to molten rock. It has been cooling ever since and still has not completely recovered, 4 billion years later.

Earth is currently at a stage where its interior is divided into layers depending on the extent of cooling. There are four major layers: the inner core, outer core, mantle, and crust. Inside, the rock is still molten and in flux, producing a magnetic field. The Airlia had learned that almost all planets with living creatures were at the same stage of inner flux. The Airlia had learned to tap this source of power for propulsion for their craft whenever they were within such a planet’s field.

Dead planets such as Mars and the moon had no intrinsic electric and magnetic fields because they were cold and solid. On a dead planet, generators inside the Airlia ships had to produce their own fields at a great expenditure of energy.

The surface of Earth is a very thin skin representing less than.2 percent of the planet’s entire mass. The skin under the continents is five times thicker than that under the oceans. However, since Easter Island is so isolated in the Pacific, it has only a very thin layer of planetary crust beneath it. Thus, the molten outer core is only six miles below the island’s surface, where molten rock bubbles at four thousand degrees Celsius.

Deep under Rano Kau, the southwesternmost of the volcanoes that dotted the surface of Easter Island, a shaft had been dug by Aspasia’s Shadow’s mech-machines through hardened lava, extending downward until it reached molten rock. The shaft had originally been dug to tap the heat as a power source.

Aspasia’s Shadow, however, after millennia of war and deception, had learned always to be prepared for disaster. One of the first things he had done after arriving on the island was prepare both an escape plan — which he had executed via the bouncer — and a destruct plan, which he had activated just prior to departure. At the bottom of the shaft, just above the glowing magma, he’d placed several five-hundred-pound bombs scavenged from the American fleet.

By themselves, the bombs weren’t a threat to the island. He’d detonated them just before getting on the bouncer, and the effect had not even been felt six miles above. But the explosion had achieved what he intended, widening the energy tap beyond a controllable size. Under extreme pressure, liquid rock was now pouring upward into the vent.

Dormant for thousands of years, Rano Kau was now in the first stages of eruption.

Such an event would devastate Easter Island and kill all that lived there. However, Aspasia’s Shadow had planned for something much more devastating to happen. Easter Island was merely the first domino in his scheme.

Turcotte settled into the center seat in the pilot room of the mothership. Not long ago he had flown Aspasia’s mothership into orbit, so he was somewhat familiar with the controls. He pressed his hand down on one console, and the curved wall in front of him gave a panoramic view of the chamber outside.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Yakov asked.

Turcotte responded by pressing his other hand down on one of the hexagons covered with rune writing. The floor beneath them shuddered as the ship’s electromagnetic planetary drive was activated for the first time in over ten thousand years. The massive craft lifted off its cradle and was airborne.

“How will we get out of this place?” Yakov asked, hands grabbing on to the back of Turcotte’s oversize chair, knuckles white.

Again, Turcotte answered with action, turning the prow of the mothership toward the hole the Talon had made in exiting. It was, of course, much too small to accommodate the mothership, but Turcotte had to assume that a craft designed to travel interstellar distances would not be greatly inconvenienced by a rock wall.

He was proven right as the black alien metal hit the cavern wall, knocking stone aside without slowing. Seeing clear sky ahead, Turcotte slid his palm forward and the mothership moved out of the cavern.

“Question,” Turcotte said. “Yes?”

“Which way is quicker? East or west?”

“I think they are approximately the same,” Yakov guessed.

Now clear of Ararat, Turcotte accelerated while gaining altitude. “We’ll go east,” he announced.

A pair of Turkish jets were visible on the display, but unlike their colleagues who had intercepted the bouncer, these were racing away as quickly as possible, the pilots obviously spooked by the tremendous size of the mothership.

“Do you know how to open this thing up?” Turcotte asked Yakov. “Access all the cargo bays?” “I got you in here,” Yakov said. “I think I can figure it out. Quinn gave me the manual that Majestic assembled on the other mothership at Area 51.”

“We need to get about ten thousand people in,” Turcotte said.

“I’ll see what the Master Guardian suggests,” Yakov said. “Do it.”

Yakov left the pilot room, heading back toward the Master Guardian. Turcotte reached out and tapped another control, then suddenly frowned. He’d learned to fly the Area 51 mothership using instructions written up by scientists working for Majestic who’d studied the craft for over half a century. But he realized this felt familiar, as if he had done it more than once. But that couldn’t be, he thought. He was still exhausted from his experience on Everest and he felt that his mind must be playing tricks on him.

Aspasia’s Shadow’s eyes slowly opened. The muscles in his arms and legs bulged as he strained against the ropes binding him. To no avail. Turning his head, he could see the large Russian once more in contact with the Master Guardian. Even though his body was human, Aspasia’s Shadow considered himself Airlia, or perhaps more accurately, beyond both species, especially now that he was immortal. He was unique, a new breed. But these humans. He had fought them for millennia and, despite his projected disdain, there was a part of him that grudgingly had to grant that they had something unique themselves. To have defeated both him and Artad in the race for the Master Guardian and mothership! And before that to have destroyed Aspasia and his fleet. Simply amazing.

And years ago, to destroy the Swarm scout ship, causing it to explode over Tunguska — that had been a surprise. He realized now, too late of course, that he should have paid more attention to that warning sign, but he had been too focused on the Ones Who Wait and maintaining the status quo of their covert civil war.

Yakov stepped back from the Master Guardian and looked down at Aspasia’s Shadow. “Do you wish to tell us now how long Easter Island has?”

Aspasia’s Shadow shrugged. “I don’t know.” As Yakov’s hand went toward the pistol at his waist, he was quick to add, “That’s the truth. I opened a seismic fault deep underground. Rano Kau will become active. Soon. How soon, I cannot tell you.”

Yakov cocked his head as he regarded the creature at his feet. “Why did you do that?”

Aspasia’s Shadow blinked, as if asked why he breathed air. “It is what a commander must do in retreat. Destroy all so that the enemy gains nothing.”

“A commander of what?” Yakov asked.

To that Aspasia’s Shadow made no response. Yakov started to walk past him, shaking his head. “Wait!” Aspasia’s Shadow called out.

Yakov paused.

“You must deal with me now,” Aspasia’s Shadow said. “Why?”

“Do you want to save those on Easter Island?”

“We’ll do that without your help.” “Perhaps you will,” Aspasia’s Shadow acknowledged. “But can you save all who live along the Ring of Fire?” “The what?”

“The Pacific Rim,” Aspasia’s Shadow clarified. “Easter Island will be just the beginning. It will start a chain reaction of volcanic eruptions and earthquakes along fault lines around the entire Pacific. The western United States”—he smiled—“say good-bye to Los Angeles and San Francisco and Seattle. Japan — devastated. Your own Russia — Kamchatka smashed.

“Tens of millions dead,” Aspasia’s Shadow continued. “If you think the death and destruction from the Third World War was grievous, it will be nothing compared to what is coming. Unless, of course, we make a deal, and I stop it.”

Yakov’s right hand snapped forward, his fist slamming into the side of Aspasia’s Shadow’s face. He walked out of the chamber without a word, the door sliding shut behind him.

Artad glanced at the tactical display. A terribly primitive space habitat was shown. Most strange — was this all these humans had managed to achieve in terms of conquering space in over ten thousand years? He was tempted to destroy it as they passed by. But it was so backward and offered so little threat that he ignored the impulse. The humans would pay a much greater price.

He reached out with a six-fingered hand and tapped the controls, bringing a view of Earth’s surface into focus. He centered the screen on China and nodded as he saw the Great Wall meandering across the countryside. His Shadow, acting as Shi Huangdi, had completed the construction of the wall over twenty-three hundred years ago, shaping it to match the Airlia High Rune symbol for HELP. An indication of just how desperate Artad’s followers had been. Over twenty-four hundred kilometers of wall built in just about ten years.

Looking for help from the skies that had never come.

Artad shifted the view to forward. They were moving away from Earth, picking up speed. The navigator had laid in a course for the fourth planet in the system. A dead world where they had placed their original communication array and defensive grid, both of which were destroyed during the civil war.

One of his Kortad alerted him to something the sensors had picked up. He switched to view to whatever it was that had been spotted. He sat up straighter in his command chair as the bulk of a mothership floating in orbit was identified, over a thousand kilometers away. He ordered an adjustment in the Talon’s course to intercept.

Within a few minutes the Talon was alongside the much larger ship. He knew it was Aspasia’s, and he’d taken in the report from the guardian describing how Aspasia’s fleet had been destroyed by the humans. Still, the gaping hole in the side where the ruby sphere and nuclear weapons had been set off by the humans was startling. Artad knew the construction of the mothership and what it could sustain.

Artad noted the unusual quiet among his bridge crew as they also viewed the damage. How had all this happened, he had to wonder. It was difficult to believe that humans, acting on their own, could have accomplished such destruction.

Artad shook off these disturbing thoughts. He ordered a boarding party to be prepared to see if the ship was salvageable. High above the Earth’s surface, the Talon and derelict mothership floated in orbit.

The lieutenant had hastily rigged the device from parts off the carrier Stennis. The instruments and transmitter were inside a metal case. Foam rubber had been duct-taped around the case, leaving only room for a wire antenna to poke out.

The device, and the lieutenant who had been given the task based on his academic credentials, had been flown to Easter Island on board an F-16 at max speed. The C-2As had just barely dropped off their first load of refugees on the carriers and were being refueled for a return flight. The lieutenant’s job was to try to get an idea of the potential danger and how much time they might have.

“Steady,” he called out as two Marines edged the device up the thermal vent that had been dug in cavern floor.

The lieutenant checked the various displays he had that received information from the instrumentation he had loaded inside the case. Everything seemed to be working.

“Drop it!” the lieutenant yelled.

The Marines tipped it over and it fell into the opening.

Even though he knew the data was being relayed via SATCOM to the fleet, the lieutenant called out what the gauges told him. “One hundred meters. One ten degrees.”

He licked his lips and called out the next set of readings. “Five hundred meters. One hundred eighty degrees.

“Eight hundred. Two-ten. It must be free-falling,” he added. “One thousand. Two-forty.

“One-Five-Zero-Zero. Three hundred.” He did a quick mental calculation as he watched the numbers move. “Through a mile down and no obstacles.”

He stared at the displays, not quite believing how quickly the case was falling. It was indeed free-falling. He glanced over at the opening, which was only about a meter wide. How wide was this vent below? It had to widen considerably for the case not to have hit the sides.

“Two kilometers. Five hundred degrees. “Three kilometers. Seven-fifty.

“Five kilometers. One thousand. “Seven kilometers. Two thousand. “Nine kilometers. Two thousand, five. “Ten kilometers. Three thousand.”

As if he felt the intense heat, beads of sweat were on the lieutenant’s forehead. He blinked as all the displays went dead. He quickly hit several buttons, getting the last readings before they disappeared. “Final numbers: eleven thousand, six hundred forty-two meters down. Temperature. Three thousand eight hundred degrees. I would assume it hit molten magma.” He opened up a geographic survey that had been faxed to the carrier upon request. “The crust is around twelve thousand meters thick here. Gentlemen, we’ve got a vent straight down to the outer core, which appears to be rising under pressure.”

“Talk to me,” Turcotte demanded.

Quinn sounded distracted, which Turcotte imagined he must be, as the officer was overwhelmed with data. “Uh, there’s a report from the fleet. They sent some kind of probe down the thermal vent. Appears to go all the way to the outer core. And they think the magma is rising in the vent.”

“So Aspasia’s Shadow speaks the truth for once.” Yakov was disappointed.

“About the vent,” Turcotte said. He turned to the mike. “What about this Ring of Fire stuff?” “That’s the term,” Quinn began, “for the fault lines along the various tectonic plates of the landmasses that meet with the suboceanic plates of the Pacific. It encircles the entire Pacific Ocean. Along these fault lines you have volcanoes, both active and inactive, and areas prone to earthquakes. It runs along the California coast, down along the western edge of South America—”

“Wait a second,” Turcotte interrupted, looking at the screen in front of him, which showed the coastline of South America that Quinn had just mentioned. “Easter Island’s a long way from South America. How can it be part of this ring?”

“There’s a plate between South America and Easter Island and the Pacific Plate,” Quinn responded. “It’s called the Nazca Plate. Easter Island lies on the juncture of the Nazca Plate and the Pacific Plate. That fault line also extends north and links with the South American plate fault line and becomes the fault that runs along the West Coast of the US.

“This thing runs along the bottom of the Pacific, to New Zealand, through the Philippines, to Japan, up along the West Coast of Russia and along the Aleutians. Over nineteen thousand kilometers long.”

“Back up,” Turcotte said as he passed over the shoreline and the mothership was above the blue water of the Pacific, continuing to head west at great speed. “What the heck is this plate tectonic stuff?”

“It’s a relatively new discovery,” Quinn said. “The surface of the Earth, the crust, is made up of nine major plates, like the Pacific, and a dozen smaller ones, like the Nazca. It’s basically a crust of hard rock floating on the molten outer core. And each plate is moving, which produces one of three effects along the boundaries. When they go away from each other they form a split where material, usually magma, comes up and forms a ridge. When they collide, one plate slides under the other, producing what’s called a subduction zone. You were just at one of those zones — the Himalayas are the product of a subduction zone created by the Eurasian Plate meeting the Indian Plate. And the third is where the two plates are moving in opposite, parallel directions — the San Andreas Fault is an example of that. You’ve got all three types along the Ring of Fire, so you’ve got volcanoes and very unstable regions. When San Francisco got leveled in 1906, that was a relatively minor disturbance of the Ring — same as when Mount Hood erupted.”

“Can one of the volcanoes erupting on Easter Island start a chain reaction?” Turcotte asked. “Those other events didn’t.”

“We have to assume the Airlia — and the guardians — know more about plate tectonics than we do,” Quinn said. “I see no reason not to believe Aspasia’s Shadow about this given what’s at stake.”

Turcotte frowned. “Except he’s lied about pretty much everything else he’s told us.” “Do you want to be the one to take that chance?” Quinn asked.

Looking ahead, Turcotte saw a dot on the horizon. “We’re just about there. Is there anything we can do to stop this eruption?”

“I’ll check,” Quinn said.

“Better make that a quick check,” Turcotte said, as the mothership rapidly approached the island. He brought the massive ship to a halt above the international airport, then slowly lost altitude until the belly of the spacecraft just about touched the tarmac. Thousands crowded about, staring in awe and hope at the large ship.

“Open the holds,” Turcotte said.

Yakov was at another console, using the information he had gained from the Master Guardian. Cargo doors slid open and metal planks extended outward and downward. After a moment’s hesitation, the people poured forward, boarding the mothership. Turcotte glanced at the display. Was it his imagination or was there already a thin tendril of smoke above Rano Kau?

Turcotte stood up and grabbed his MP-5. “When everyone’s on board, let me know.” Yakov glanced over. “Where are you going?”

“To chat with our friend.”

Turcotte made his way back to the Master Guardian room, where Aspasia’s Shadow was tied down.

“Did the Russian pass you my message?” Aspasia’s Shadow asked as soon as Turcotte entered. “Yes.”

“You know the threat?” “If you’re not lying, yes.”

“I am not lying and I can stop it.” “How?”

“It is beyond your ability to understand.” Turcotte brought the muzzle of the submachine gun up. Aspasia’s Shadow shook his head. “You can kill me again, but that will cost you valuable time.” “What do you want?”

“The same thing I wanted before. The stakes on your end are higher now though.” Turcotte lowered the muzzle and didn’t say anything. A few minutes passed.

“You are running out of time,” Aspasia’s Shadow finally said. Turcotte still remained silent.

After a few more minutes, Aspasia’s Shadow stirred, pushing against his restraints. “The process will soon be irreversible.”

“You’re asking me to accept two assumptions,” Turcotte finally said. “First, that if that volcano erupts it will start a chain reaction all along the Pacific Rim. Second, that if that is true, that you have the power to stop what has already been started.”

“They are facts.” “According to you.”

“You cannot afford to disbelieve me.”

“Sure I can,” Turcotte said. “In your many reincarnations, did you ever play poker?” “A game? I don’t play games.”

“Too bad.” Turcotte lapsed into silence. Yakov’s voice finally announced that all were on board from Easter Island. “We’ve got everyone,” Turcotte told Aspasia’s Shadow.

“You saved a few thousand,” Aspasia’s Shadow said. What about the millions that will die shortly?”

“Your price is too high. I will never give you this mothership. I’m calling you on that.” “Then millions will die.”

Turcotte felt the pressure. He felt there was a good chance Aspasia’s Shadow was lying, but could he afford to take that gamble? “I’ll let you go and give you a Talon if you stop it.”

Aspasia’s Shadow simply stared at Turcotte.

The Special Forces soldier raised the submachine gun. “Your other choice is to continue dying every time you come back to life. I think that will make you long for the ka and your old life. I’ll partake of the Grail just so I can make your eternity hell.”

Aspasia’s Shadow frowned. “You have tried lying to me, but I suspect you are telling the truth now.”

“Want me to confirm your suspicions?” Turcotte put his finger on the trigger. “A Talon is not capable of interstellar jumps,” Aspasia’s Shadow argued.

“Not my problem. Besides, as you noted, you have all the time you’ll ever need.” “I will take the deal.”

Turcotte didn’t lower the gun immediately. He knew the capitulation was too swift, but he also knew he didn’t have much time. A fact of which he was sure Aspasia’s Shadow was aware.

“What do you need to stop it?” Turcotte asked.

“Access to the control room,” Aspasia’s Shadow said. “You can keep your gun pointed at me if you like.”

Turcotte let the submachine gun dangle from its sling as he drew his knife. He went behind Aspasia’s Shadow and cut the restraints. “Let’s go.”

Aspasia’s Shadow walked to the corridor doorway. Turcotte prodded him in the back with the muzzle of the gun. “Run.”

They broke into a jog along the main corridor. As Turcotte passed doors he could hear the muted roar of thousands of people crammed into various holds. Entering the pilot room, Turcotte raised his hand as Yakov spun about, reaching for Excalibur.

“He’s going to stop the destruction.”

“In exchange for what?” Yakov demanded, eyeing Aspasia’s Shadow as he sat down in the center control seat.

“A Talon.”

“I do not think—”

Turcotte cut the Russian off. “We don’t have time to think. Are all the gangways retracted and doors closed?” Yakov nodded. “Yes.”

Turcotte glanced at the screen. There was definitely smoke coming out of the top of Rano Kau now. Aspasia’s Shadow grabbed the controls. The mothership slowly gained altitude. At somewhere around ten thousand feet he halted the mothership.

“What now?” Turcotte demanded.

Aspasia’s Shadow ignored him as his hands moved over the glowing hexes that made up a large part of the control console. Turcotte felt his skin tingle as a charge passed over him. “What are you doing?”

“What I told you I would,” Aspasia’s Shadow said. “Look.”

Lighter than the rock around it, the magma was getting near the surface of the planet. About two miles below Rano Kau, it began to melt some of the surrounding rock and had pooled, forming a huge chamber over a mile wide. This pooling had given Turcotte the time to get all the people off the surface of the island.

Now, the pressure from below was intense, and there was no place else to go but up again. The water in the crater lake began to boil as hot gases moving ahead of the magma reached it via the central vent. Steam poured into the air, then gas. It was a battle between the water and gas for several minutes, then the magma chose another direction, pouring into the guardian chamber, filling it, then heading toward a crack in the side of the chamber.

Turcotte flinched as the seaward side of Rano Kau exploded outward, hurling boulders the size of houses into the air. A wave of hot gas roared outward over the sea and around the volcano onto the surface of the island, killing every living thing that remained. The moai were singed by the heat, new paint that had been added to help make them a tourist attraction burned off.

Turcotte glanced at the other volcanoes in the other two corners of the island. Both were emitting smoke. Bright red magma flowed down the side of Rano Kau and met the ocean with a hiss of steam.

The floor under Turcotte’s feet shook as a pulse of power shot down from the mothership into the island. It passed into the ground with no apparent effect. Within five seconds a second pulse followed.

The power flowed into the planet, passing through the boiling magma and shaking the ground. It hit the line where the crust met the outer core, and the power dispersed, shattering rock that sifted down into the magma, interrupting the flow. More importantly, the amplitude and frequency of the shock wave was the inverse of the power wave that had been initiated. This was something only the originator of the initial wave could have known. The dampening effect rode outward from Easter Island, counteracting the power unleashed by the initial explosion.

Aspasia’s Shadow made a few more adjustments on the controls, then turned in the chair. “I’ve done as you asked. Now I will take my leave.”

Turcotte could see no change on the view screens — things didn’t appear to be getting any worse, but there was still lava flowing out of Rano Kau and smoke being emitted by the other two volcanoes. “You have an eternity,” he said. “I think we’ll wait a little before letting you go.”

“You gave your word.”

“And I’ll honor it,” Turcotte said.

“Ask your scientists with their measuring devices,” Aspasia’s Shadow said. “They will indicate the planet is quiet once more.” A smile crept across his thin lips. “I am done as a threat. Artad and the Swarm”—he shrugged—“that is your problem. If you would give me this ship, I would help you with them also.”

“I’d be happy right now to be done with you,” Turcotte said. “One threat at a time.” “You have no idea of the big picture,” Aspasia’s Shadow said.

“And you haven’t enlightened me,” Turcotte replied. Aspasia’s Shadow crossed his arms and looked at Turcotte for several long seconds. “I’ve done what you asked.” Turcotte nodded toward the exit. “Go.”

Aspasia’s Shadow stood and departed without another word. “I do not trust him,” Yakov said.

“I don’t either, but at least we’re rid of him now.” Turcotte sat in the spot Aspasia’s Shadow had just relinquished. He reached down and took the controls. He directed the nose of the mothership to the north, toward Hawaii. The sound of a clamp releasing on one of the Talons was audible throughout the ship.

Turcotte could sense the Russian’s disapproval and felt compelled to defend his recent actions. “I’m just trying to make sure that when we do finally end this once and for all there are enough people around to enjoy the victory. Enough have already died.”

Yakov let out a long, heavy sigh, before sitting down. “I understand. But my people have a long history of winning costly victories. And the battles and wars never seem to end. Napoleon. Hitler. And the betrayals. We were betrayed by our own government. So, I do not trust Aspasia’s Shadow, but I do understand why you made the pact you just did.”

Turcotte realized that was the most Yakov was going to allow him, so he picked up his SATPhone and punched in the auto-dial for Quinn. As it rang, another clamp released.

Quinn picked up his end on the third ring. He sounded distracted, and Turcotte could hear voices in the background.

“Major, what do you have on seismic activity?”

Quinn’s response was immediate. “Things have settled down. Whatever you did stopped it.” “What do you have on Duncan?”

“There’s a strange report. It appears that some Israelis — led by Simon Sherev — brought the Ark of the Covenant to what they thought was a new Majestic.” “Where?”

“An abandoned oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico. I’ve also confirmed that an Osprey was used on a classified mission in that vicinity.” “OK, then—”

“That’s not all,” Quinn interrupted. “We got this report from one of Sherev’s commandos who is still on the rig. He says he hasn’t heard from Sherev or the others since they went inside the rig.”

Another clamp released. Turcotte cursed. “We have anything near there that can investigate?” “I’m working on it.”

A fourth thud resounded through the mothership. Glancing at the screens in front of him, Turcotte could see a Talon moving away. “Good riddance,” he muttered.

“I do not think we have seen the last of him,” Yakov said.

Turcotte had expected the Russian to say something like that. “If we cross paths again, only one of us is walking away.”

“He is immortal—” Yakov began, but Turcotte cut him off.

“If we meet again, only one of us will walk away, and it will be me.”