“And the South Africans must have been scared of what they were working on,” Duncan added.
“Scared?” Colonel Spearson repeated.
“They killed all their own people,” Turcotte noted. “The guys we fought upstairs were just mercenaries who I’m willing to bet don’t have a clue who really hired them or what was in here.”
Spearson was looking about. “Why do you think it’s here? Over a crack in the Earth’s crust?”
“It picks up thermal energy?” Turcotte suggested.
Duncan didn’t appear to hear him. “I think I’ve just figured out what this is and I think they did too. And they had sixteen years to sit here and look at it. No wonder they were scared.”
“What is it?” Turcotte asked.
Duncan was staring over the massive crevice in the Earth at the ruby sphere. “I think it’s a Doomsday device set there to destroy the planet.”
CHAPTER 5
The command center for the United Nations Alien Oversight Committee, or UNAOC, as it was being referred to, on Easter Island was set inside four connected communications vans that had been flown in from the mainland aboard a massive C-5 cargo plane. Two of the vans retained their original function, connecting Easter Island UNAOC with New York UNAOC. The other two had had the connecting wall removed and now housed banks of computers, a large display screen along the front wall, and several desks where the ranking members sat.
Peter Nabinger had spent many hours inside the command center. There were live television feeds to the cavern below the volcano that housed the guardian computer. He always felt a strange sensation slither up his spine each time he looked at those screens and saw the large golden pyramid. He’d gone down to the cavern several times, attempting to reestablish his mental communication with it, but to no avail.
Today, though, he was in the CC for a different reason. The director of operations for UNAOC on the island had called him in for a conference meeting with the main UNAOC council in New York. The purpose of the meeting had not been disclosed.
Nabinger hated video conferencing. He felt strange sitting in front of a computer screen that showed him the others in the conference and having to look into the small camera on top of the screen that beamed his image to them.
As he took his seat, the man who had called him in took the seat to his left. Gunfield Gronad was the ranking representative from UNAOC on Easter Island, and Nabinger knew that so far his tour of duty had been one large bust. The guardian was still inactive, there was no more information flowing, and the world media, not to mention UNAOC headquarters, were less than pleased. Nabinger felt sorry for the young Norwegian, who had to report failure even though they had no control over the guardian.
Nabinger knew Gunfield was further distressed to see the face of Peter Sterling fill up the screen on the computers in front of them. Sterling was the chief commissioner of UNAOC. He was the former head of NATO, who had been coopted to lead UNAOC by the Security Council three days ago. Sterling was a distinguished-looking man who had been very high profile in the media for the past several days. His enthusiasm for the UNAOC position and what they were uncovering was unbounded, and he most definitely was in the camp of the progressives.
Nabinger leaned back in his seat and waited as Sterling reached down and did something with his keyboard and his image grew smaller. Now Nabinger could see that they were connected to the main UNAOC conference room on the top floor of the UN Building. He could see the second-in-command of UNAOC, Boris Ivanoc, seated to Sterling’s left and the other members of UNAOC arrayed around the table, their own teleconference computers in front of them. Ivanoc was a concession to Russia, an attempt to balance the immense power that UNAOC would hold if they could get back into the guardian and gain access to the knowledge secreted there. The camera zoomed back in, and Sterling’s patrician face stared at both Nabinger and Gunfield.
“Anything to report, gentlemen?” There was the hint of a smile around Sterling’s lip.
“No, sir,” Gunfield said. “The guardian is still inactive and—”
“No sign that the guardian transmitted or received a transmission?” “No, sir.”
“You need to be alert,” Sterling eagerly interrupted. “We’ve received a reply.”
Nabinger leaned forward. “To the message?”
“Of course to the message,” Sterling said. “It came in yesterday. Several tracking stations picked it up and recorded it.”
“I’ve heard nothing from the media,” Nabinger began, but again he was cut off.
“We’re not releasing this information quite yet, but we will shortly, I can assure you. We’re still coordinating with the various governments that picked it up. Are you certain that the guardian did not receive the message?” Sterling asked once again.
“Sir,” Gunfield replied, “the guardian may well have received this message. There is no way for us to know. Reception is a passive action. Now, if the guardian sends a reply, our tracking instruments will certainly pick it up.”
“In what format is the message?” Nabinger asked.
“Most of it is very complex, and we can’t make heads or tails of it,” Sterling said. “We think that part was directed to your guardian. Some sort of special code.”
Nabinger leaned forward. “And the other part?”
“It’s digital. Basic binary.” Sterling’s face was flushed. “That part was directed to us. Humanity.”
“What does it say?” Gunfield asked.
“We’ll send you the text via secure SATCOM. You’ll have it when we release it publicly. It’s not long.”
“The basic gist?” Nabinger asked.
“You’ll see,” Sterling said mysteriously, like a child holding on to a secret. “I’m not authorized to tell anyone in advance, as it has to be released simultaneously around the world. But I can tell you one thing, gentlemen; things have changed and are going to change even more.”
Nabinger raised a hand. “Where did the message come from? Is there a mothership coming?”
Sterling’s eyes shifted, looking about his conference room, then settled back on the camera. “Mars.”
Gunfield couldn’t help himself. “Mars?”
Nabinger nodded as he made a connection in his mind.
“What are you thinking, Professor?” Sterling asked, catching the movement. Damn, Nabinger thought. He could never get used to being watched by a machine. “Mars makes sense, at least from an archaeological viewpoint.”
“Explain,” Sterling ordered.
“We found the Airlia atomic weapon in the Great Pyramid at Giza, just outside Cairo,” Nabinger said. “Some Egyptologists define the word Cairo as meaning ‘Mars.’ Quite a coincidence, I would say. Do you have an exact fix from where on Mars this message was broadcast?”
“The Cydonia region on the north hemisphere,” Sterling said.
“You know what has been photographed at Cydonia, don’t you?” Nabinger said. “Why don’t you tell us?” Sterling said.
“Well, first there’s what appears to be the thrust-up outline of a large face on the surface of the planet there,” Nabinger said. “It was discovered in July 1976 by NASA personnel studying the images sent back by the Viking probe.”
Nabinger paused but no one interrupted, so he continued. “In 1979 some computer engineers at the Goddard Space Flight Center reexamined the digital frame that held the face, then expanded the search, checking out the imagery of the immediate area.
“They found what appeared to be a pyramid close by. A pyramid, that as nearly as they could tell, was over five hundred meters high and about three kilometers long on each base, easily dwarfing the Great Pyramid at Giza.”