Sam said, “We’ll need to run some more tests, but I think she might be genetically descended from the Master Builders.”
“You can forget about running tests.”
“Why?”
“Because I already know what they’re going to say,” she said.
“Really?”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “I wish you’d let me know you were close to finding their hive.”
“Hive?” Sam asked.
“That’s what we’ve decided to call a group of Master Builders.” She bit her lower lip. “Defense has been keen to learn all there is to know about this Black Smoke for years.”
“You knew about the smoke?”
“Of course. We found drawings and signs of the strange chemical in the first temple. I don’t need to tell you what such a drug could be used for during war, or worse still, if replicated by our enemies.”
Sam smiled. “That’s why I’ve always been given a long leash and an extraordinary budget. You’re worried about the Black Smoke?”
She smiled. Her hardened face was stunning, yet patronizing at the same time. “We’re enthusiastic about the opportunity, and terrified of the consequence of losing the race.”
“What race?”
She smiled again at his naiveté. “Why the race to synthetically reproduce the chemical compound.”
“Didn’t the CIA already try that in the fifties with LSD? Sam asked. “How did that work out?”
She turned from his vehement gaze. “There will always be a war. For the good guys to win, we need the superior weapons. In a world where technology is changing daily, an ability to control entire groups through high frequency sound waves is a breakthrough that might just give us the edge to survive. Think of the possibilities. Our soldiers could harmonize their movement as though they were one single entity. The enemies could be manipulated to attack each other or better still, relinquish secrets.”
“What about Elise?” Sam asked.
She shrugged. “What about her?”
“What do you know?”
“I think it’s time to tell you something about Elise’s history — before she was taken in by the orphanage.”
“What?”
“I was leading a team of CIA operatives on a raid on a temple in Afghanistan, which we now call the first temple of the Master Builder. When we broke in to the temple it appeared long deserted, but it wasn’t completely empty. There was a baby girl sitting underneath the middle of a large obsidian dome. She was looking up, as though she was studying it. That girl was less than one year old, and we named her Elise.”
Sam swallowed hard at the revelation. “Does she know?”
“No. And I’m not certain it would be wise to tell her yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because we don’t know how she’ll take it.” The Secretary of Defense shrugged. “More importantly, we don’t know whose side she’d be on.”
“What are you talking about? There are no sides!”
“Maybe not yet, but there might be — when the remaining Master Builders gather?” The Secretary of Defense studied him, trying to determine his own value to her. “What else did you learn?”
“I’m not sure, yet. There might be something. Then again, it might be nothing.”
“What is it?”
Sam swallowed. “Have you ever heard of the Death Stone of Göbekli Tepe?”
“No, should I have?” She answered without hesitation.
Her face remained hard, and expressionless. Sam thought he saw something else there, too — was it the unique combination of recognition, fear and guilt?
He smiled, obediently. “No. I was just following a lead, but I doubt it will amount to anything.”