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“What we were watching.” Mualama shook his head. “It is best if you read it.”

BURTON MANUSCRIPT: CHAPTER 3

The Horus-Guides ruled Egypt for over a thousand years. The stone sphinx grew to be an enigma among the people of Egypt, the reason for its existence — to mark the location of the Hall of Records below — forgotten. The “gods” were remembered, but became myth, a religion, not the reality they were. It is the same way we view the legend of Atlantis in our modern world.

The peace did not last forever, though. It was time for The Ones Who Wait to take action, and when they did, the reaction from Aspasia was fierce and deadly. I have seen with my own eyes the results.

Their base was eventually discovered by the Watchers. It was in a mountain, part of a pair known as the White Sisters in central East Africa. At first I thought they might be speaking of the Mountains of the Moon, the Ruwenzori, which I have searched for myself — legendary mountains said to be covered in snow and hidden in clouds even though they lie on the equator.

But in an old church in Somaliland, I saw etched in the wall the image of two massive peaks, both snowcapped. I recognized one of them to be Kilimanjaro, the queen of all African mountains. The other was a mystery to me, because although there are other peaks near Kilimanjaro, none come close in height, yet in this drawing, the other was just as tall. So I traveled south to that land taking scrolls with me.

From one scroll, I learned there was a Watcher who traveled to the same place, around three thousand two hundred years before the birth of Christ, acting on the report of a traveler who had come down the Nile River with a strange tale of a black metal forest growing out the side of a tall mountain. The tale was strange enough, but the reference to black metal much like the b’ja made it worth investigating.

I can only imagine how difficult that trip was for him, as over five thousand years later, I encountered so much trouble getting there. He traveled across Europe to the Middle East, and then into Egypt. The Horus-Guides still ruled there, but he made safe transit with the assistance of other Watchers already in place in that kingdom. He then traveled along the east coast of Africa and suffered much until he arrived at the place where he was to strike inland. It did not take him long to see the first of the White Sisters, Kilimanjaro, covered in snow far on the horizon. Soon he saw the second, farther west, the one the base was located in where the strange forest grew.

I do not know if word of his journey and destination was picked up by The Mission. From what I have learned, it is apparent that both sides had spies, who for varying reasons passed information to the other side. Or perhaps what was going on at the The Ones Who Wait’s base simply reached such a level that it was discovered by The Mission on its own.

Certainly the watcher’s report about what was being done to the mountain backed up the rumor. From a long distance away, the Watcher reported seeing along the northern slope a vast network of black, like a spiderweb, covering most of the surface. Beasts of metal stalked among the web, working, continuing to build. Such beasts were written of in other places and were known to do the bidding of the Airlia and their followers.

The Watcher circled to the north and hid to watch what was happening and try to understand its purpose.

The second week he was there, a strange thing happened. A small glowing sphere of gold flew by. Watchers in other scrolls reported seeing such things. They also are tools of the Airlia. It circled the mountain and then disappeared.

Two days later sky ships came. Nine black forms long and lean, like knives against the sky. They too were made of b’ja, the sacred metal. A golden light crackled on the tips of the sky ships, then jumped down to the ground and into the mountain.

The top of the mountain exploded. A blast of air hit the Watcher even though he was miles away, knocking him off his feet and tumbling him about as the sky darkened from the dirt blown into the air. The sky ships departed, but the end of the mountain continued. Red, boiling earth flowed out of what remained.

I have seen the results of this. I have been to what was once the other White Sister. It is now called Ngorongoro Crater. It was once a peak as high as Kilamanjaro. Only half the mountain and the crater remain today.

Whatever The Ones Who Wait had been up to, it had failed.

“My family was recruited by this Watcher to keep an eye on the remains of the base,” Mualama said. “But we weren’t told what it was. Just to watch and report.”

“Some of this base must still exist, though,” Che Lu said. “The dragon machine went there after getting the key from Turcotte.”

“It is possible, but neither I nor anyone else in my family saw anything for as long as could be remembered.”

“You did the right thing by leaving the Watchers,” Che Lu said.

“I didn’t leave them,” Mualama said. “I betrayed them. What if they are right? What if the course of action they have tried to follow for so long is the right one? To be neutral. To support neither Artad’s or Aspasia’s side. If they are right, then I may be the greatest traitor ever by giving the Watcher headquarters to Turcotte.”

“I think you overestimate your role and underestimate the active role the Watchers have played,” Che Lu said.

“Perhaps,” Mualama said.

“Are you all right?” Che Lu pointed at his ear.

Mualama reached up and his hand came away with several drops of blood on it. “An infection I picked up in Africa. Quite irritating.”

Easter Island

Popeye McGraw felt the sand on his belly. He lay in the surf and slowly looked from side to side. Nothing moving on the beach. The towering Moai statues on the slope of the volcano were all turned inland. He wondered why these looked to land, while ones on the beach at Anakena looked out to sea.

“Damn,” Popeye muttered to himself. He could feel the age of those statues. He’d grown up in Maine where old burial mounds existed, dating from the earliest inhabitants of that land. He knew these statues predated those. He’d always felt a shiver as a kid when he’d walked those mounds.

They’d left the zodiac offshore about five hundred meters, just inside the shield wall, held in place with the sea anchors. They had debated whether or not to beach the craft, but decided it was more secure leaving it offshore. The cruise around the west shore of the island to the southwest tip had been uneventful. Nothing moved along the rocky cliffs that made up the shore.

Olivetti was behind him. Popeye felt the tug as his partner pulled his fins off. Then Olivetti crawled next to him and slightly forward. Popeye returned the favor, removing his partner’s fins and looping the straps over his non-firing forearm. Olivetti glanced over his shoulder at Popeye, who nodded.

The two SEALs stood and dashed inland. They made it to the base that supported the Moai and stuffed their fins in their packs.

Popeye looked up the steep slope of the volcano. “Ready?”

“Born ready.”

Giza Plateau

Duncan realized her hands were shaking as she hooked up the wires from the Ark to the crown. She still had a headache from her first experience, but the draw was too great. She connected all three leads, then placed the crown on her head.

Immediately, she was no longer in the Hall. She was in a large, enclosed space. The floor was black metal. The walls curved to meet a hundred meters overhead. Bouncers rested in metal cradles. Eighteen of them.

She knew that she was in the hold of the mothership.

Airlia moved about, preparing the bouncers, moving equipment. She saw the Ark on a cart. An Airlia was carrying the Grail, placing it inside. Then rolling the Ark over to one of the bouncers. The Airlia was treating it as a piece of equipment, not an object of veneration.