Nabinger shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just bothered by…” He paused as they saw several people running toward the press tent.
“Something’s happening,” Kelly said. The two of them ran toward the green canvas tent. They pushed their way in behind the other people staring at the small TV set. A broadcast of CNN relayed from the American naval task force offshore was playing. They caught the broadcaster breathlessly repeating her news:
“This just released from UNAOC in New York City. There has been a second message from the Guardian Two computer on Mars. The entire text of this new message is in the binary form that part of the first was in. We are waiting on the translation of the message that has been promised us by a UNAOC spokeswoman. It will…” The announcer paused. “Yes, it is coming in now. We will put it up on the screen for you to read as we get it.”
In bold black letters, words began to scroll up the screen.
GREETINGS
WE ARE OF PEACE
WE HAVE WAITED LONG FOR THIS
BUT NOW WE CAN COME BACK
NOW THAT YOU ARE READY
TO JOIN US
WE WILL AWAKE
AND COME BACK TO YOUR PLANET
ASPASIA
END
“Oh, my God,” Kelly muttered as the inside of the tent broke out in bedlam. She staggered outside with Nabinger. “They’re up there,” she said, looking into the sky. “They’ve been up there all this time. That’s where they went!”
CHAPTER 9
“Those are the statues of the sixty-one foreign ambassadors and rulers who attended the funeral of Gao-zong,” Che Lu said as they slowly drove down the wide dirt road that led to Qian-Ling.
“How come their heads are gone, Mother-Professor?” Ki asked, staring at the large stone figures that stood in rows at the side of the road.
“No one knows,” she said. Her attention was focused on what lay directly ahead. Rising up in front of them, over three thousand feet high, lay the mountain that was Qian-Ling. It was the largest tomb in the world, dwarfing even the pyramids of Egypt and the large dirt mounds in the Americas. The sides of the mountain were covered in trees and bushes, but it was easy to see that it was not a natural formation, as the sides had a uniform slope leading up to a rounded top.
They were traveling down the same road the funeral procession for the Emperor Gao-zong had taken so many years ago. Che Lu felt the familiar tingle of touching the past, the feeling that had determined her destiny for her so many years ago when she’d first passed through the Great Wall in the company of Mao.
Her attention was distracted from the massive hill, though, by the sight of several trucks and tanks parked across the road a kilometer ahead. She could make out the men in the green uniforms and the guns in their hands clustered around the vehicles.
“What should I do?” Ki asked, slowing the Jeep.
“Go up to them. We have permission,” Che Lu said. The immediate area for several kilometers around was unpopulated, being designated a historic district. She could think of no reason why the army would be here unless someone in Beijing had wised up. If that were the case she knew from hard experience it would be better to face this head-on than run.
But as she slowly stepped out of the Jeep and met the soldiers, she noticed that they seemed as surprised by her presence as she was by theirs. The officer in charge of the checkpoint carefully read the letter from the Ministry of Antiquities giving Che Lu permission to be here.
“Will you be entering the tomb?” he asked.
Che Lu shook her head. “We will be doing some measurements on the outside. That is all.”
The officer frowned but the letter had the proper signatures and seals. “Be careful. There are bandits in the area. I take no responsibility for your safety on the mountain.”
“Bandits?” Ki asked. They drove away from the checkpoint, beginning their ascent up the side of the mountain toward the entrance, leaving the soldiers behind and out of sight as they went around the western shoulder.
“Anyone the government does not like is a bandit,” Che Lu said. “I was a bandit once myself.” She smiled. “And there is one now,” she added, pointing at a wizened old man who had just materialized on the road in front of them, standing as still as one of the statues.
He wore a faded blue shirt and black pants. He carried an AK-47 in his gnarled hands and battered army-issue pack on his back.
“My dear friend, Lo Fa!” Che Lu cried out as Ki stopped the Jeep. ‘Ah, you old hag,” Lo Fa spat into the dirt.
“You old goat,” Che Lu returned as she hugged him. She looked past him, where the road disappeared between two large boulders. “Are we ready?”
“I have removed the earth,” Lo Fa said. “I did it at night. Those fool soldiers wouldn’t know it if you dropped a rock on their heads. I had friends help. But their friendship only goes so far,” he added. He had one eye that was dead, completely white, so he spoke with his head twisted, good eye forward.
“You have no friends,” Che Lu said. “Only scoundrels you keep company with.” She held out a small packet filled with bills and it disappeared into Lo Fa’s tunic. “For your friends.”
“They will remain my friends now.” Lo Fa smiled, revealing broken and yellowed teeth. “Let us go, quickly, and get off this road. You have permission to break the seal?” he asked as he jumped into the back of the Jeep.
“Yes.”
With Ki driving slowly, the truck following, they went between the massive boulders. There were statues of tigers perched on top of each one. The boulders enclosed a small courtyard, about thirty meters wide by fifteen long. The side of the mountain was cut into, revealing two massive bronze doors covered with writing. A large pile of dirt was pushed to the side, Lo Fa’s work for the past two weeks since Che Lu had contacted him. She knew they wouldn’t have much time and she hadn’t wanted to waste it digging to the doors.
“This way.” Lo Fa was out of the Jeep, surprisingly agile. He walked up to the doors, Che Lu and the others following. He pointed at the barely visible seam between the two panels. “The Old Ones sealed it with molten bronze.”
One of Che Lu’s students was filming the doors with a videocamera, recording them for posterity. They had not seen the light of day for over two thousand years.
“How do we open them?” Che Lu asked.
“It is not my problem,” Lo Fa said. “You told me only to uncover the doors.” “I told you to get me in,” Che Lu said.
Lo Fa spit again, then gave a crooked grin. “Yes, that you did.” He slipped off his backpack. He reached in and pulled out a long line of blue cord. “Have your students tape it to the seam, from top to bottom.”
“What is it?” Che Lu asked as she waved a couple of her male students to do as he bid.
“Detonating cord. Explosive,” Lo Fa said.
The students paused, looking at the cord in their hands in fear.
“Ah, it won’t explode until I put a blasting cap in the end,” Lo Fa snarled. “And where did you get that?” Che Lu asked.
“The army is very careless,” Lo Fa said. “It always surprises me when they manage to put their boots on the correct feet.”
“Why is the army here?” Che Lu asked him as he prepared the detonator.
Lo Fa spit. “This time the trouble is not just students in Tiananmen Square. There is real trouble. People are tired and they want change.” He pointed at the mountain tomb that dwarfed them. “This once was China, the center of civilization. Now with this talk of aliens, people no longer know what to believe and the agitators are seizing the opportunity to push for change, to regain China’s place in the world. It is easier said than done.”