Caleb looked down at his shoes, choked up.
But then Hideki smiled at Alexander. “Ah, the precocious child returns.”
“Hello Hideki!” Alexander waved, beaming at her. “Can’t wait to help out again.”
“Yes, yes, so long as you promise not to spill chocolate milk on any more priceless fifth-century BC papyri.”
“I promise.”
“I mean it.”
Caleb found it surprisingly comforting to laugh, to be distracted from the finality of loss. “She means it, Alexander. And so do I. Socrates would have been pissed.”
Rashi took a seat at the conference table, the very same one used by Nolan Gregory years ago when he had confined the Keepers down here for their protection. That day was the last great crisis for the Keepers. But now, they had lost two key members in the past week. One to tragedy, the other to greed. With Lydia and Robert gone, the Keepers needed a leader, and despite the regard they all held for Caleb, they knew he couldn’t step into the role held by his wife. Not under these circumstances.
Rashi took the reins, and she’d moved quickly but deliberately. They had to be extra careful, but they still needed to replenish their ranks. Hideki had a son, fifteen, who unfortunately showed no promise, or interest. Alexander was almost ready and could soon fill one of the gaps, but Rashi felt deep regret that she had never succeeded in bringing a child into the world. There was always adoption, but for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to that stage where she would have to admit it was physically impossible for herself.
But now, she had a new focus. Leadership.
Their enemies were closing in. What Caleb had discovered, what Robert Gregory was a part of… it stretched back to the dawn of human history, to the very origins of civilization. A conflict, dormant for millennia, about to be rekindled.
“If what we’ve discovered in these texts is true, then we have no time to waste. No time to grieve. No time at all.”
Hideki joined them at the table.
“All these scrolls…” She looked around at the hermetically sealed cabinets, the honeycombed alcoves, filled with the contents of the vanished Alexandrian Library, the most esoteric texts, some so ancient they had yet to decipher the language. “Everything you found, Caleb. And yet…”
“And yet,” said Rashi, leveling her gaze at him, “the one thing that could have helped us most prepare for this moment…”
“You kept from us,” Hideki finished.
Caleb swallowed and looked in turn at the Keepers. He met their stares of recrimination. “I can’t apologize. I didn’t trust you, it’s true, but…”
“You were right not to,” Rashi said, raising a hand. “We are not condemning. We’re merely stating fact, preparing the setting, so to speak. The foundation for what we must do next. We are not judges.”
“How could we be,” Hideki said, “when one of our own, our very leader, was corrupted?”
Rashi leaned in. “If you had not kept the Tablet from us, Robert would have had it, and he would have used it.”
“That,” Caleb said in a low voice, “is what I need to understand. How would he have used it? What are they planning? Xavier Montross saw something. And I did too.”
Rashi nodded. “I can guess. Destruction. You saw it on a scale unimaginable.”
Caleb felt Alexander’s eyes on him. Large, almond-shaped, glassy. A hint of jade, like his mother’s. “The Tablet itself is undecipherable. I got nowhere with it, and honestly I didn’t want to try. It was enough that it fell to me to protect it. But now… Now I wish I had tried a little harder. Maybe I’d know what it is we need to do.”
Rashi kept her head down, contemplating the lines on her hands, between her knuckles. “We’ll tell you what we know, but after this you must rejoin your sister. And the others like yourself.”
Alexander perked up. “More remote-viewers?”
“Soon,” Caleb said. He had seen it, too—brief glimpses of well-trained men escorting Phoebe and Orlando through caves in the desert, then onto a plane, heading back to some well-hidden facility in the snow-capped mountains of the Pacific Northwest. “Soon, and I know they’re looking for answers too, but I don’t believe they know the right questions to ask. That’s why it has to start here. It needs to come from practical research first, grounding us on what to set as our objectives. Otherwise we’re blind mice sniffing around empty cupboards. Wasting time.”
“Time we don’t have,” Rashi agreed.
Caleb leaned back, studying the other members, then looking past them to the scrolls laid out on the work area. To the banks of servers storing all the scanned documents.
The other two Keepers were looking solemn, palms flat on the table. Caleb had taken a seat next to Alexander. He leaned forward. “Tell me what you’ve found. About the Tablet, about… the Spear.”
Rashi closed her eyes, and began to talk. “The first thing we found wasn’t from the Library, it was something much more recent. We looked into Robert Gregory’s files, decrypting his locked folders and accessing what he’d been studying in secret.”
“So basically,” Hideki said, “he had already done the research.”
“Knew what he was looking for,” Caleb said.
“But some of it wasn’t even from what you found under the Pharos. He had access to other books, private collections, heretical texts acquired from individuals with powerful connections, to say the least.”
Alexander was listening to all of this, confused. He kept focusing on the Zodiac images painted above, on the azure-background of the dome, imagining the animals taking form, moving around. He thought of the shapes in Genghis Khan’s tomb, thought of how much he had seen in the past few weeks. How much death, but in the midst of all that life. His eyes settled on the constellation of Gemini, the twins. And he realized couldn’t stop thinking about them, his new brothers. Where were they now?
“…revelations that seemed far too fanciful for us at first,” Hideki continued.
“But,” said Rashi, “now we’ve been reconsidering. In light of other insights. Now that the majority of the Pharos’ documents have been scanned and uploaded, and everything that could be translated has been, we have been able to search for keywords and phrases.”
“‘Tablet of Destiny’ being one,” Hideki said.
Caleb’s lips felt parched. His stomach grumbled. And he thought of Alexander and how neither of them had eaten in more than a day. He looked toward the door set back in a side room off the main domed chamber where they kept supplies, enough food and water for months. Beds, a shower. He thought about getting up and telling Rashi and Hideki to wait until he got a snack, but that was when he felt something.
A rumbling.
The table rattled. The microscope in the other room shook, toppled. The lights overhead dimmed.
Caleb blinked, and across his eyelids flashed an image, a vision in stark clarity:
A snowy field beset by enormous mountains ringed by an emerald aurora. Almost two hundred radar arrays, glowing, sparking with errant electrical discharge. And zooming in closer… through the walls of the main facility, lightning-quick through hallways and down elevator shafts to a control room… and a man in uniform holding a phone to his ear, saying: “Yes, Senator. It’s been done…”
The very chamber shook now, dust fell from the dome, and the barest hint of a crack split through the constellations, ripping apart Pisces and splitting the Twins.
Rashi stood up, eyes wide. “No… They can’t… They wouldn’t dare!”
Hideki screamed and pointed to Alexander, who when he stood, leaned forward so the necklace with the three charms slipped out.