Area 51: The Grail-5 (26 page)

"What is that?" Verquist demanded.

"What you were promised. The beginning of it, anyway."

Verquist could now see that the cloud appeared to

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be a swarm of flying insects. One smashed against the bridge glass but rebounded, buzzing around, searching for a way in. They were machines, Verquist could see that now, smaller than mosquitoes, almost invisible to the naked eye. They poured through the open side doors to the bridge. Verquist dashed toward the rear of the bridge, through the door leading to his cabin.

He slammed it shut and locked it. Screams, quickly cut off, echoed through the expensive wood. Verquist threw himself into the chair behind his large mahogany desk. He pulled open a drawer and wrapped his hand around the pearl handle of a revolver. He pointed it at the door.

They came under the door.

He fired five shots in rapid succession, knowing the futility as he pulled the trigger.

He put the hot muzzle against his temple as the first of the micromachines landed on his skin. His finger twitched, caressed the metal, then relaxed. He loved himself too much to do it. He lowered the gun.

The micromachine let loose its load of the nanovirus and the microscopic machines bore through his skin and into Verquist's bloodstream. He screamed and tried to bring the gun up, but he was too late as the nanovirus poured into his brain.

AREA 51, NEVADA

"It is now daylight in Cairo."

"I am aware of that," Yakov told Che Lu. They were in the conference room, Professor Mualama still behind the computers, typing away. It was an indication of the seriousness of the situation that Yakov had a mug of hot 227

coffee sitting on the table in front of him, the vodka bottle nowhere in sight.

"And your awareness improves the situation in what manner?" Che Lu asked.

Yakov spread his large hands wide apart. "And how does your informing me of what I already know improve the situation?"

"Are you aware the Americans lost one of their surveillance aircraft over the Mediterranean?" Che Lu asked.

"I saw the report Major Quinn sent down."

"And that aircraft was tracking two helicopters that took off from the vicinity of the Great Pyramid?"

Yakov nodded.

Che Lu continued the questions. "What—and who— do you think were on those helicopters?"

To that Yakov had no answer. He knew Che Lu was frustrated. She had been working on the grid coordinate system she thought she had figured out in Qian-Ling, but it was not fitting as she had hoped. Close, but not quite there. Her numbers were slightly off, and she didn't know where the problem lay.

"I have more of the manuscript ready." Mualama didn't even raise his head to announce that. "It's coming up on the screen now."

Yakov walked over and sat down. As soon as the translation appeared, he began scrolling.

BURTON MANUSCRIPT: CHAPTER 6

The Middle East is the crossroads between three continents—Asia, Africa,
and the eastern edge of Europe. Because of this, it has seen numerous invading
armies pass through.

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The Jewish state has been conquered many times. Jerusalem, the home of the
Grail and Ark for so many years, has seen its share of warring armies sweep
over it in a flood of blood.

This small place on the surface of the world has given rise to the great
religions of western culture— Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, all born in
the arid terrain of the Middle East. Beyond the impact of these religions and
their subsequent spin-off faiths on history, another important factor needs to
be considered.

The Grail is said to do two things—grant immortality and give knowledge.

But what knowledge? For a long time I thought this simply meant knowledge of
the Truth, the tariqat that I was upon—the truth of mankind's past and
origins, of the aliens who came to our planet. But on my travels around the
world I have met many wise men and women, and studied various cultures. And it
came to me, not in a flash, but like a slow tide of awareness seeping into my
brain so that I cannot state clearly the moment at which I was aware of it.

This awareness? It is that perhaps the knowledge the Grail gives is not an
accumulation of facts or history, but a different way of thinking. And perhaps
some of that has already made its way into our societies.

Think about it, my friend who reads these words. The earliest civilizations
thought differently than we do now. For them, life was an endless cycle of
birth and death and birth. Their thinking was cyclical, more concerned with
the whole than the parts. Time was a wheel that each generation trod upon only
to return to the same place.

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When did that change? Where did this change come from?

I believe it changed with the Jews, and this was continued with the
Christians and Muslims. Think about the concept of faith as these religions
espouse. Think about the way they change the view of time itself. No longer
circular, it is now linear. There is a progression from birth, through life,
to death, to an after-life. With such thinking, a new concept
emerges—something called hope. Hope for a better life,-that things can
improve. That life can be better.

And they made another change, one that I do not know the ultimate effects
of. These religions focused on one God, and that God was removed from
immediate contact with man. Certainly this is better than when men worshipped
the Airlia, but perhaps it also saps some of our belief in ourselves? I do not
know.

For almost ten thousand years human civilization did not change, but in the
past two thousand, it has grown in leaps and spurts. There has been
progression. Toward what end I do not know. Whether this is a good thing, I
know not either.

But I do believe that the Grail changed these people. Just knowing of its
existence changed them and all of us who follow. Think what a powerful icon it
has been, and then imagine what the reality of it must be.

Where did the Grail go when the attempt to use it failed?

Joseph ofArimathea, along with Nicodemus, took the body of Jesus and buried
it. It is said he also came into possession of the Grail, which had been in
Jesus's hands and brought out at what the Christians call the Last Supper. It
is at this event that Jesus was

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arrested—but why at that moment when he had been preaching for so long?

Perhaps because he was bringing the Grail out and was going to share of it
with his followers? That is my suspicion.

And who would want to stop him and take the Grail for their own ? I suspect
The Mission, The Ones Who Wait, and the Watchers.

There was a Roman named Tacitus, a military man, whose name I have
discovered written in many old documents. I believe this is the name
Aspa-sia's Shadow used during this time. He was in Jerusalem in A.D. 33, and
sought to get control of the Grail.

There is another twist that came from this that I have investigated, that
of the Sang Real.

There are scholars who believe the Sang Real to indicate that Christ had
children and that his bloodline exists to this day, hidden perhaps by some
secret cabal of the Vatican. However, it is much more literal than that.

When I was in the Himalayas, I talked to an old monk who told me of a small
group of people he called the ubyr. He said they were men and women who drank
the blood of others searching for the elixir of life. In Russia they are
called upyr. In East-em Europe they are known as vampir. In the many places I
have traveled I have asked about such people, and I am amazed at the number of
legends in far-flung places concerning them.

And what do the blood-drinkers seek? Eternal life.

This is what I believe the Sang Real is—the desire to drink of the blood of
a person who has touched the Grail and try to gain eternal life out of their
blood.

------

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"Remember he wrote this decades before Bram Stoker corrupted the image of the vampire into what is our modern myth," Che Lu said. "In, fact, from what Isabel wrote, it appears that Stoker got the idea of vampires from talking with Burton."

Yakov ran a hand through his thick beard. "There are stories that Stalin had his secret police performing experiments on prisoners, draining their blood, searching for some rare strain that would bring longer life. And Von Seeckt told us of the SS's fascination with blood. He was injected with some alien blood in a ceremony of the SS."

"This gives us a little insight into the Grail," Che Lu said. "It must affect the blood somehow, perhaps adding something to it that improves the health and life span of the recipient. And the concept has made its way out into the world and been corrupted by these people who drink the blood of others."

"Perhaps the Grail simply injects Airlia blood into human and mixes them,"

Yakov said. "We know The Ones Who Wait are human-Airlia clones, so there is some compatibility."

"Do you know how unlikely it is that our DNA could be mixed with that of an alien race and produce a viable life-form?" Che Lu asked.

"That is not my area of expertise," Yakov said.

"It isn't mine either," Che Lu said, "but common sense says the odds would be extremely low of a compatible match."

"But the Airlia have technology we don't know about," Yakov said. "Perhaps they could manipulate the material on both sides to find a match in the middle.

"It is more likely that—" Che Lu began, but then she stopped herself.

"What were you going to say?"

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Che Lu shook her head. "I will wait to find out more before I say anything else on this matter. Let us read on."

Joseph of Arimithea secretly left Jerusalem with the Grail. He undertook a
most perilous journey, traveling far to remove himself and the Grail from the
reach of the Roman Empire and Tacitus, a most difficult task in those days. He
left behind agents who spread misinformation about the location of the Grail,
hoping to keep Tacitus and The Mission focused in the Middle East while he
took it far away.

He finally came to Britain, an island that had resisted Roman invasion for
many years and, truth be told, a land with little to offer a conqueror. A land
where the Watchers had established their headquarters after the destruction of
Atlantis. I read his report on his arrival in England, one of the Watcher
scrolls, and there is no doubt Joseph was a Watcher, trying to put right what
had been thrown askew by the appearance of the Grail in the Middle East.

It seems that Joseph's decision to leave the Middle East was a wise one and
his agents did a most credible job of making The Mission believe the Grail was
still there—perhaps too good of a job, as Tacitus continued to press his
search using the Roman army as the blunt force to do so.

In A.D. 67 Jerusalem was overrun by the Romans under the command of Titus,
with his military adviser Tacitus at his side, after fierce fighting. It is
said that over a million Jews were killed or sold into slavery. The Temple was
destroyed, taken apart stone by stone, the city ravaged.

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But the Grail was safe and disappeared from sight for several centuries,
protected by the Watchers at Avalon.

Che Lu cleared her throat to say something, but she was saved from doing so when Major Quinn entered the conference room. "We've had to stand down the exfil choppers. There's no way they can make it near the Nile without being spotted, especially since we've lost the AWACS ability to jam radars. Our government is protesting the destruction of the plane and the loss of the crew to the Egyptians, but it's a confused situation to say the least. The Egyptians are countering that we've invaded their country twice now."

"What can we do?" Yakov asked.

"I've managed to get a live feed from a surveillance satellite over the area. We can try to keep track—that's about it."

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THE GIZA PLATEAU, EGYPT

Turcotte slowly splashed his way down the tunnel, the water of the Nile urging him along. His shoulders were slumped and his step was heavy. The men he had led were dead, Duncan was gone with Aspasia's Shadow, and the Grail and Ark were with him. The mission had been a complete failure.

When the clatter of metal on stone came from behind, he found it difficult to increase his pace. The clicking noise was getting closer and the ceiling was sloping down, the channel growing tighter. In the dim glow of the flashlight he could see the little airspace he had now was completely gone in twenty meters.

The noise from behind had stopped, but he was caught between the foo-fighter sentry and the water-filled tunnel ahead. He moved forward until his face was turned up, pressed against the rock ceiling. It occurred to Turcotte that something might have changed in the past hundred years since Burton went this way, but he didn't care.

Turcotte took several deep breaths, then he pulled his head down and went with the current, legs kicking to add speed, but the effort felt wasted as the water took control. He was tumbled about, bitting the wall of the tunnel several times.

Just as he thought he couldn't last any longer, he saw daylight above. He kicked, using the last of his air. Turcotte broke the surface, gulped in air, and blinked in

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the harsh rays of the sun, trying to get his bearings. He tread water, turning away from the sun, and saw the pyramids, the Great Sphinx before them, farther upstream and to the west.