The Decrypter: Secret of the Lost Manuscript (Calla Cress Techno Thriller Series: Book 1) (19 page)

He navigated through to the main seating area under the panoramic domed roof, with Calla keeping pace.  Rows of desks and benches lined the main floor with dimly lit lampshades.  They secured an isolated spot in the corner, close to some bookcases. 

Nash pulled out a seat for her and settled into the opposite chair.  “Okay.  So what are we doing here?”

Calla leaned forward and whispered.  “I have something from Berlin that I need help with.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why the secrecy?”

She hesitated and then surrendered.  “It’s to do with the Deveron Manuscript.”

* * *

10:12 A.M.

Nash propped closer.  “The manuscript’s gone.  Don’t you know that?”

Calla slouched down like a fugitive deer in hiding. 

What’s bothering her?
 

He could tell she was searching her soul for a decision on whether to tell him everything. 
Doesn’t she trust me?
 

Her revelation would require his every commitment and he was ready for whatever she had to say.

Calla bit her lip.  “I need your help with something.  Can you keep a secret?”

“Try me.”

“We can’t involve our governments or any authorities.”

Nash puckered his lips more puzzled than annoyed. He edged in, glaring into her deep-seated, emerald eyes.  “I’ll always be here if you need me and will keep any secret you want me to keep, as long as you promise to trust me.”

Self-conscious, Calla grinned at his perceptive smile.  She contracted her eyebrows and produced the manuscript, all seven pages neatly held together with a metallic paper clip.  “The vaults here contain some cryptographic systems that may help me translate this.”

Nash’s forehead wrinkled. “How did you get the manuscript?”

She shushed him, grasping his right hand and peered around to see if anyone had overheard.  “We really don’t have much time.  We need to do this before they come after us.  I’ll explain, but we need to get going.”

So this is the mess she’s in.
With his protective nature alerted, he decided to cooperate. 

“Now that you have this. Oh yes! Somebody’s bound to be after us.” He inhaled deeply. “Who’s coming and what are
we
looking for?”

“I’ve been trying to figure that out for the last forty-eight hours.  I don’t know.  Can we move now?”

She made little sense, yet Nash obliged, hoping an explanation would surface sooner rather than later.  He shadowed her lead back the way they’d come, not sure whether to reveal that he’d seen a prowler at her house. It was probably best to wait until he knew the full context of her story.

Their ISTF credentials allowed them access to the Manuscripts Reading Room, situated a short walk from the main reading rooms.  They entered what Nash believed was the quintessence of the entire facility.  He knew Calla came here from time to time.  Only seven months ago, she’d worked on deciphering first century Greek texts from the city of Oxyrhynchus, the so-called ‘City of the Sharp-Nosed Fish’, written on fragments of papyrus found in Egypt.  Naturally, she’d succeeded, a talent of hers he’d always found enlightening. 

The main room was discreet, quiet and a handful of inaudible readers and staff, some gloved and relentlessly cautious, poured over rare books, manuscripts and other documents.

Calla whisked her head round and set a hand on his shoulder.  “We want the cryptology section.”

  She approached a short dark-skinned woman, with wide chestnut eyes, a strong chin and noticeably large hands.  Her midnight-black hair was worn in a tight bun as she sat operating the information desk. “Can I help you?” she said, her lips stretching into a courteous smile.

 “Hi. I’m Calla Cress, a curator at the British Museum doing some research on ancient, cryptographic systems.”  She glanced over at Nash and then back at the woman.  “I need to look at some cryptography systems you have here.  Can you help me locate the right section?”

“Please sign in here.  I’ll need to see your passes.”

They drew out their badges and she nodded.  “What you’re seeking is not on these main floors.  We’ve had some recent renovation work and various manuscripts have been moved to a temporary, cryptology section.  Can I ask which cryptology system you’re looking for in particular?”

Calla eyed Nash briefly as he faithfully tried to hide his curiosity about the same thing. 

“Ancient cryptology,” she answered.

“I see.”  The woman pulled out two electronic, visitors’ cards.  “You’ll need to go down to the underground tower block in the library storage space.  There are four floors.  You are looking for the last floor down.”

“How do we get there?” asked Nash.

“Take the stairs behind you.  It may be easier, but make sure you avoid the water tank system on the same floor. There’s some major work on it at the moment.  Present these to the security guard when you arrive and they should be able to help you.”

The woman drew a rough sketch of the location on a small piece of paper.  “You’ll have one hour from the time you scan these cards.”

They thanked her and headed for the stairs.

Nash had watched the exchange quietly.  As soon as they were out of earshot, his interest plagued him.  “What cryptology systems do you have in mind?”

“Let’s go down and see.”

“I’m with you all the way on this Calla, but what are you doing with the Deveron Manuscript?”

They reached the stairs. 

Calla stepped two steps ahead of him.  “The manuscript belonged to my family and I want to know why.”

“What? You sure?”

“I found out that my family was in possession of the Deveron Manuscript decades ago.  I think it has something to do with my adoption.”

“How’ll the Deveron help you learn know more about your family’s past?”

“I've reason to believe it is connected to their disappearance.  If I find out what they knew about it, then maybe I can find them.”  She paused.  “Dead or alive.”

So that’s it.
Nash acknowledged her conviction. “How do you know your parents were connected to all of this?”

Calla fell silent, struggling for the right words, something that didn’t happen often. 

“Nash, are you a man of instinct or blind faith like me?”

What’s she getting at?

“Allegra told me she knew them,” Calla said.

He accepted the statement but believed it to be a white lie.  Nonetheless, he had to go along with whatever she surrendered.  It was the most he’d ever heard her talk about her personal life.

Calla marched ahead leading their descent onto the lower floors.  “I’ve been reading some of her files.  Operation Carbonado believes the manuscript is a cryptograph, leading to the secret locations of meteorite activity that NASA confirms fell on Earth centuries ago.  The meteorite brought unknown, valuable elements to Earth.  After all, that’s why our governments want the manuscript so badly.  The elements, similar to carbonado diamonds, supposedly contain chemical compositions not found or known on Earth.  They possess implausible energies, enough to make our nuclear plants combined seem like a child’s science project.”

“So, ISTF may be right after all.  And what do you believe?”

She played with her bopping ponytail.  “I actually believe it.  The explanation seems scientific enough.”

“
Enough to ignite greed from five superpowers.”

She took another eager step.  “I also think our governments’ intent for the diamonds is not entirely honorable.”

He glanced down at her.  “I agree with you on that one.  But what makes you so certain?”

“Let’s just say that I think my parents found the diamonds, or at least one.”

That revelation he was not expecting. 

Calla glanced back at him. 

She wanted a response. 

Nash’s eyes quizzed her face.  “Are you telling me, your parents found what we're all busting our energies to find?”

Calla’s voice was euphoric.  “I don’t have all the answers, Nash.  But, if I can hang onto this document long enough to find them, then that’s what I’ll do.  Allegra has also done some incredible research on the Deveron.  The hieroglyphics, like the Voynich, do not exist in any known human language.  And in her notes, she references something here that may help us.”

Nash raised an eyebrow.  “Is the writing authentic?”

Calla resumed her hasty pace down the last few steps.  When they reached the bottom of the staircase, she rested a hand on the side bar.  “I don’t know what I think.  All I know is that my parents were responsible for the Deveron Manuscript.  If cracking its code draws me closer to finding them, then that’s the risk I’m willing to take.”

It was a massive milestone for her as the subject of her parents had always been a sensitive matter.  He knew he had to tread lightly.  “Did you find out who they are?”

She lowered her head.  “No.”

They gravitated through to the fourth, lower ground hallway, following the temporary signs to the cryptology department as the woman had directed.  Within seconds, they found the door she’d indicated.  At the entrance, Calla handed the cards they’d been given to the nonchalant security guard.  He scanned them and repeated some clearly memorized, reading room procedures. He then placed the cards in Calla’s hands.  “You can’t take any bags into the reading room and can make a maximum of twenty copies with the copiers provided.” 

Calla glanced at Nash. “Thank you.”

The man sank into his seat.  “Do you have any questions?”

Nash responded.  “No.”

“In that case, you have one hour from now.  Please put on these gloves.”

Two minutes later, wearing cotton gloves, they inched through the dark, woody room.  The humidity was kept to a minimum and the dry temperature helped preserve the more mature texts. 

The interiors produced smooth, timber odors as books stood piled as high as the ceiling, mostly as an afterthought rather than by design. 

Calla picked up a chocolate-cover volume entitled Polygraphiae by Johannes Trithemius, a 1518 rare volume, and the first printed book on cryptology.  She avoided handling the book with rough movements and instead, held it from underneath.  Using two hands, she supported it by placing a provided mat beneath it for easier lifting and moving.  She turned to Nash.  “Should we split up?  We’ll find it faster.”

Nash scrutinized the cramped room.  “Gladly, but what are we looking for exactly?”

“A very small book.”

“What kind of book?”

“A small, handwritten book.”

“That doesn’t help me, beautiful.”

Her cheeks flushed, yet she kept her focus.  “Allegra’s notes say that my parents translated part of the Deveron Manuscript.  They transcribed the cryptographic system they discovered in a small book.  At the same time, she believes that they discarded the Deveron Manuscript in Priam’s Treasure, while on a mission to Saint Petersburg.  It’s as if they wanted nothing to do with it.”

Nash crossed his arms.  “You know more than was revealed at the meeting last Friday.  I watched you across the room as you counted the minutes while the archivist spoke.”

Calla offered him a mischievous smile, a trace of haste ringing in her voice as she spoke.  “Back to my parents.  They wanted the book to be as far away from the Deveron as possible.  But also, secure enough to be found.  I think they hid it in the rare books section in this library.”

“Okay. So it’s a journal of some sort?”

“I wish I knew.  I’ve never seen it.  I only went by Allegra’s notes.”

“Why did Allegra keep all of this from you?  She must’ve known you were looking for your real parents all these years.”

Calla shrugged her shoulders.  “I don’t really know, Nash.  She was probably being cautious.”

The duo split, scrolling row after row for anything that resembled a journal.  They searched different shelves.  Manuscripts tired and worn and rare books lined several rows, with some volumes carelessly abandoned along the bookcases.  Calla continued past cryptographic systems that were used during the war, as well as ones more ancient. 

Nash squinted his eyes.

This was not a frequented room. Calla drew towards a distinctive, Polybius checkerboard - a device invented by the ancient Greek historian and scholar of the same name.  Known as a knock code, it was used to signal messages between prison cells. 

She crossed over to an Atbash, a simple substitution cypher for the Hebrew alphabet. 

The row ended there.

Unaware how long they’d been there, they were startled to hear the sound of footsteps at the door.

“Your time is up.  I’m sorry, you have to leave now.”

The athletically built security guard peered at them as his frame filled the door’s entrance. 

A vacant look arrested Calla’s face as she turned to Nash.

* * *

11:07 A.M.