“What about the roads? Can I drive it?”
Dourado brought up a map with the most direct route from Rome to Geneva marked in blue. On the map, it looked like a short distance; Switzerland and Italy were neighbors, but the two cities were separated by more than five hundred miles. “No major road closures being reported, but it’s a good nine hours.”
“I can always listen to an audiobook.”
“Maybe I can pull a few strings. Geneva is also where the International Red Cross and Doctors Without Borders are headquartered. Maybe I can get you on a relief flight.”
Carter kept staring at the map. “Cintia, can you put the earthquake map up again?”
Dourado did so with a keystroke. Carter moved closer, staring at the clusters of dots.
There it is. Why didn’t I see this before?
“Does it look to you like Geneva could be the center of the earthquake activity?”
“I…guess?”
“The quakes all happened at about 1000 UTC. What’s the time difference for Switzerland?”
“Same as here. Plus two hours during the summer.”
“So the quakes happened at noon. When the sun was directly overhead, more or less.” One of the problems with working in an underground laboratory was that it was easy to lose track of the time. “What’s the time difference between Switzerland and New York?”
“Six hours,” Dourado said, without having to think about it.
“So the quakes were hitting the East Coast at about six a.m. Shortly before sunrise. Which according to multiple reports, was more than a minute late.”
“You think there’s a connection?”
Carter continued to stare at the map. “Tell me about this man Tanaka works for.”
“Marcus Fallon. Easy. He’s kind of a hero of mine. The ultimate tech guy. He invented The Stork.”
Carter shook her head to signal her ignorance.
“‘He brings bundles of joy!’” Dourado seemed to be mimicking an announcer’s voice. “No? The Stork is a robotic aerial parcel delivery system…a package drone. It’s revolutionized online retail.” Dourado shrugged then went on. “Fallon is on the forefront of robotics research and AI. They use his software in self-driving cars. But his real passion is space colonization. His facility in Geneva, Tomorrowland, is a test laboratory focusing on robotic systems for building space stations and terraforming other planets.”
“So he would have use for someone like Tanaka. Does he have any military contracts?”
“I don’t know, but he’s an American living in Switzerland, so I’d say probably not.” Dourado narrowed her eyes. “As much as I don’t want to believe it, if anyone was capable of building a bigger version of HAARP, it would be Marcus Fallon. He’s got the genius and the money to do it.”
“I’m not accusing him, Cintia. I just want to ask a few questions.”
“That’s not what I mean. If he is responsible for what happened today, he’s not going to put out the welcome mat for you. Maybe you should wait until…” She left the sentence unfinished, but it was easy enough to figure out what she had left unsaid.
“I’m sure we’ll hear from them soon.” Carter gave her a patient but reassuring smile. “Look, it’s probably nothing. I’ll ask Tanaka my questions, and that will probably be the end of it. But if something more is going on, every second might count. Saving the world is what we do, right?”
SIX
The four-foot drop to the passage’s limestone floor knocked the wind out of Fiona. Before she could recover, Gallo landed on top of her, slamming her down a second time. She lay there stunned for several seconds, aware of the chaos behind her but unable to do anything to help. The wall blocking the end of the passage continued to move for a few more seconds as the chamber floor finished its rotation, then all was still. As Pierce turned and sagged against the wall, Fiona realized that Lazarus was no longer with them.
Without any hesitation, she began speaking the words — the same words that had come to her almost unbidden in the chamber above.
In her efforts to unlock the Mother Tongue, Fiona had operated from the assumption that the Siletz tribal language, which her grandmother had taught her, contained echoes of the original master language, much the same way that Romance languages — Spanish, Italian, French, and others — were connected to Latin roots. Drawing out those traces was a process of trial and error, but she had achieved some success by chanting old tribal songs and prayers, while focusing on a specific task. It was like trying to figure out the solution to a combination lock by turning the dial and listening for the clicks of the internal mechanism.
The correct words were only part of the solution. There was also a mental component to it. The phrase that brought golems to life was simple, but the shape and size of the stone automatons was variable, a function of her focused intent.
As she spoke, using every word and phrase she could remember from her tribal language that had anything at all to do with opening doors or making stones move, she closed her eyes and tried to visualize the passage as it had been only a few moments before. She imagined the rock floor transforming into something as insubstantial as smoke, and Lazarus stepping through to rejoin them.
Nothing happened.
Nothing was going to happen.
“It’s not working.”
It wasn’t me.
“Try again.” Pierce said. “You made it work before.”
She shook her head.
“Erik is trapped up there,” Pierce insisted. “We can’t leave him.”
“I know.” Her voice was sharper than she intended. She took a deep breath, trying to quell her rising panic.
George put a hand on her shoulder and asked, “What’s different now?”
“I’m too far away.”
“You were standing in the center,” Gallo said. “That’s important?”
“I think so.”
“You also knew where to go. And which passage to take.” Gallo looked down the new passageway. “How about now?”
Fiona realized that her concern for Lazarus had blinded her to the subtle sensation that had guided her earlier. She took another calming breath, closed her eyes, and reached out for it again. She had been exaggerating a little when she had said that the place was speaking to her. It wasn’t anything quite so overt. The feeling was more akin to an urge, like irresistible curiosity. And as she pushed down her concern for Lazarus, the feeling returned.
She turned and faced down the passage. “We need to keep going.”
Gallo glanced over at Pierce. “I hate to say it, but I think you were right, George. We need to keep digging.”
George looked back at the sealed passage behind them, and then nodded. “If anyone can take care of himself, it’s Erik.”
“I think when we find what we’re looking for, we’ll be able to get him out of there.”
He hefted the scuffed backpack onto his shoulder and gestured for her to lead the way. “I believe you.”
As before, the passage followed a gradual but constant curve, spiraling down, auguring deeper and deeper into the limestone karst beneath the ruins of Arkaim. The further they traveled, the more convinced Fiona was that they were on the right track. She was worried about Lazarus, but she also believed that the only way to help him was to find whatever the ancient Originators had concealed deep underground. She just wished there was a way to let him know that he had not been forgotten.
After what felt like fifteen minutes of walking, the passage opened up, as if the spiraling borehole had intersected an enormous underground void. The passage was still there, only now it was more of a balcony cut into the wall of a circular chamber, curling around it like the threads on a screw. Stalactites and flowstone cascades hung down from the ceiling like extrusions of cooling candle wax, but otherwise, the walls and ceiling were artificially smooth.