The Golden Crystal (28 page)

  “But wouldn’t you also need to know how fast the crystal was breaking down?” Bryce asked.

“Of course,” Vilocek answered. “We did have to make a few assumptions, especially since we didn’t know anything about the Rapa Nui culture at the time, and that they were the eventual owners of the original crystal, as we know now.”

“
Eventual?”
Jeff asked. “
Who
owned it first?”

“That’s one of the assumptions we had to make. The crystal is made up of elements that are not found anywhere on Earth. More than likely, it was brought here from somewhere else and given to some ancient civilization; one that predated the Rapa Nui by thousands of years.” 

“So, like, an ancient, advanced, human race?” Wayne asked, growing more skeptical.

“Well, yes, basically — but we’ll need to find the crystal first, before we can prove that,” Vilocek said.

Cole suddenly spoke up. “You’re talking about Atlantis, right?”

Vilocek looked at the young man, then at Bryce and rest of the group. “Yes,” he said, nodding his head. “You see, there’s a method to all this madness, I assure you. If we can find and secure the crystal, it will solidify this theory, this ancient story — passed down through centuries of tradition and no doubt getting muddled and confused in the process. It would explain everything — the passageways, the significance of the ‘Golden Ratio’ in the world’s great architecture, the pervasiveness of a common legends ideas found in civilizations that never had contact with each other — “

“Like a flood story,” Wayne said.

“ — Like a flood story, to name the most famous example. But what about pyramidal structures like ancient tombs, temples, and worship sites? And what was it exactly that these civilizations worshiped? All of these questions — with their unspecific,
un-scientific
answers, you see — are nothing more than
educated guesses.
 

“If there’s a way to
prove
the existence of such a supremely intelligent race, something that offers
conclusive evidence —
well, I think you all understand the gravity of something like that.” 

He looked around the group, analyzing their reactions. Corinne looked at Cole, searching his expression. Bryce and the brothers exchanged glances. 

Bryce knew that it wasn’t just
scientific evidence
of an ancient prehistoric civilization that Vilocek was after. There had to be a source for their power, a
reason
for their superiority. Bryce knew
that
was all that really interested Vilocek. 

“Sounds intriguing,” Bryce said finally, trying to sound less anxious than he felt. “Let’s get on with it then. You can explain the rest of it on the way, Tanning. I’d like to hear more about why the crystal breaks down the way it does, but we need to get moving.”

Vilocek nodded, wondering to himself why he had been so willing to share this hard-won knowledge with these people. Was it just his excitement? Or was it the thought of having a common enemy down there somewhere in this cave? He didn’t have the answer; and as he crouched down to follow the others into the cave, the uncertainty gnawed at him.

10:03 AM - EASTER ISLAND 

They began the descent in silence, all pondering Vilocek’s words. As they followed the cave into the volcano’s side, they were guided by the numerous blue symbols glowing along the walls and ceiling. The symbols, though, were the only resemblance to the other passageways so far. Unlike the symmetrical, mirror-image passageways beneath the Great Pyramid and Petra, this tunnel was nothing more than a smooth walled cave, sloping slightly downward, devoid of any stalagmites or other irregularities. As they went, Corinne thought of everything that had happened in the past few days, and tried to block as much of it out as possible. 

She couldn’t bring herself to speak to the man that had shot and killed her uncle. She despised Vilocek, wanted to see him suffer. He had caused them all unbelievable pain even
before
he’d lifted his gun, first with her uncle’s kidnapping, then throughout the time they’d spent as Vilocorp’s prisoners. From the strange crystal-based bullet they’d shot into Jensen’s leg, which caused enormous pain when he got too far from Corinne, to the random beatings and general torture they’d endured — it had all worn her down to a point that she would rather have just stopped, laid down on the floor of the cave, and died. 

But something nagged at her. Something Vilocek had said earlier, about “Te Pito.” She’d heard that term once before, while studying the island for a class that seemed a lifetime ago. Although she wanted nothing more than to hold a gun to Vilocek’s head and pull the trigger, she wanted an explanation for all this first. The group had paused in a larger cavern that had Birdman cave paintings and an old fire ring in it, when she finally found the strength to speak.

“Vilocek,” she said, her voice sounding stronger and more confident than she’d expected. 

“What you said earlier — about Madu finding ‘Te Pito?’” she said. 

“Yes — ‘Te pito o te henua.’ You’ve heard this term?”

“Once, a long time ago. It means ‘The navel of the Earth,’ right?” 

“Yes, or ‘the ends’ or ‘the center’ of the Earth, as well, and it was how the Rapa Nui used to describe their island here.” 

“I know — ‘Pito’ means ‘navel’ or ‘umbilical cord,’ and they thought that this was the link between the living world and the spirit world, ‘Po,’ in the sea,” she said. The rest of the group was silent, collectively surprised at her sudden interaction with Vilocek.

“That’s right,” Vilocek said, “but we thought the ‘Te Pito’ was actually a sort of literal path between the two worlds — one above ground, and one below — where their power source was kept.”

“But wasn’t the ‘living world’ said to be some other place, ‘Hive,’ or something like that?” Corinne asked. 

“Yes —
Hiva
,” Vilocek corrected, “was said to be their ‘living world,’ whatever that means. Whatever it was, Easter Island wasn’t it — Rapa Nui, as the island was called originally by its inhabitants of the same name, was settled much too late to be considered
Hiva.
But most of the Polynesian islands and settlements today — including Easter Island — have a unified thread amongst their histories — they all came to their respective islands from
another
home —
their legendary homeland, or Hiva.

“So, no one really knows
how
or
when
the first people landed on the island. They came from this ‘faraway land,’ and shortly thereafter came up with a
completely original
written language, religion, and way of life.”

It took Corinne a moment. “Oh my God,” she said, realizing what he meant. “You think the
Atlantians
settled Easter Island?”

“Well, doesn’t it make sense?” Vilocek said. “The Rapa Nui people had to come from
somewhere
, and Easter Island’s not that close to anything… at least, nothing we know about today.

“Their language, their culture, it was all very secretive, you see. They were known for defending these cave systems, and their entire population eventually even became a ruthless, cannibalistic cult.

“What was left of the Atlantian civilization, after the famed continent was ‘sunk in a day and a night’ — according to Plato’s manuscripts — may have been a few stragglers. It would only take a handful to secure the crystal and bring it to a new island; to start again,” he mused. “Maybe this was their
second
home — a much smaller, much weaker version of the Atlantis we know to have been a great warrior nation.” 

“And the destruction of the Atlantian continent — the crystal’s doing, I assume?” Bryce piped in, still skeptical of it all. 

“Why, yes — we know for a fact that the crystal is breaking down at an exponential rate, year over year. And in the lab, even though our synthetic versions have not been nearly as stable, all of the experimental tests have eventually ‘reset’ after a complete breakdown.”

“Reset? Back to a stable state?” Wayne asked. 

“Yes — at least somewhat stable. It seems the two materials always reach a unified point, where their ratio to one another is 1:1 — then they break down and cause the reactions you witnessed on the videotape, Captain, and then revert back to their original states, for the whole process to start again.”

“So,” Cole asked, “the original crystal has done this before? And you’re afraid it’s going to do it again?”

“That’s what we believe. We’ve been able to cross-reference dates within the literature out there for when the Atlantian civilization existed, and when it was destroyed. Most of what we’ve found points to the year 9610 B.C. — over 11,600 years ago — as when Atlantis sunk beneath the waves. According to the calculations I mentioned outside, at the breakdown rate of around 0.00414% per year, that would give Material A exactly 11,622 years to break down.

“Meaning, of course, that the crystal’s primary two material substances would reach a ratio of 1:1 this year, on December 21, 2012.” 

“Why December 21?” 

“Remember how I mentioned how there are some coincidental similarities between a few completely isolated civilizations?”

“Yes,” Cole answered. 

“Well, one of those strange similarities is the shared belief that the world will come to an end — on December 21, 2012. It’s usually a phenomenon attributed to the ancient Mayan civilization, but threads of the belief system have turned up around the world, in the Celtic calendar — the date of the winter solstice — and on,” Vilocek said. 

“Wait a second — “ Cole said. “December 21
^st
is
tomorrow
.” He looked at Vilocek. 

“I realize that,” Vilocek said. “Even more reason to get that crystal — we’re not sure what
time
the crystal will reach its breaking point, but we’ll be able to see the telltale signs for sure in the next few hours.”

“And if we
do
find the crystal,” Corinne asked, “how exactly do you plan to stop this ‘breakdown’ from occurring?” 

“With this.” Vilocek reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small test tube. The liquid inside glowed with the same color as Cole’s luminescent skin. “It’s an elixir we created by extracting ‘Material A’ from the crystal. As I said, we can’t isolate it completely, so there’s still a small remnant of Material B on each molecular formation, but we’ve ‘rounded out’ the mixture with a Uranium isotope to stabilize it. It’s part of what my father and the Sr. Whittenfield were researching many years ago.

“Again, it’s nowhere near perfect — it comes with its own side effects — but it’s all we’ve got right now, and as long as the crystal is no larger than a basketball, it shouldn’t react too dramatically with the serum.”

Cole looked down at his skin. He wondered if the “side effects” Vilocek referred to were like his — the bluish glow on his skin in the presence of the crystal — or if there was something more to it. Even as he struggled with the thought, he felt his knees shake and his palms become clammy and cold.
What is happening to me?
He gradually became aware that Corinne had taken his wrist and was gently pulling him toward the opposite side of the cavern. He hadn’t even noticed that the rest of the group had begun to move — how long had he been standing there?

They moved on. It seemed to Corinne that they were constantly delving into caves, and she hoped they’d find the crystal soon — if at all. As she walked, her hand gently dropped from Cole’s wrist into his hand. It was cold and damp — Cole seemed fine, but his eyes weren’t focused, and he stared vacantly as they walked. 

She hoped he was all right. After everything that had happened, she needed
something
to remain constant. 

9:46 AM - UNKNOWN

THE crackling of Whittenfield’s headphones alerted him to an incoming transmission. He jumped — whacking his knee against the tray table in front of him. His coffee, sitting cold inside a much-too-small styrofoam cup with the airline’s logo emblazoned on each side, tipped over and splashed a few drips on the table adjacent to his. 

The woman next to him — a burly, slightly smelly 50-year old with the faint peach fuzz of a mustache gone unnoticed — gave him a condescending glance, huffed, and looked toward the front of the plane. 

Why in the world did I offer to take a commercial plane,
he thought, apologizing and wiping the centimeter-wide drip off of her tray. He’d wanted to remain under the radar — even with his prosperity and recognition, most of the people who might recognize him would be sitting in first class. In a moment of stupidity — he knew now — he’d traded in his first-class ticket for this coach seat, squeezed between this sack of fat and a black-haired teenager who’d done nothing but looked out the window the entire flight. He almost wondered if the kid was alive — he hadn’t moved or spoken since they’d taken off. 

He clicked the trackpad to wake up his laptop. He closed several windows that popped up, ensuring that there would be no peeking from his cabin mates, and clicked the blinking ‘receive’ icon on the task bar.

He positioned the earbud-style headphones more comfortably in his ears, and adjusted the volume.

“Check, 1-2,” Bryce’s voice came across in a raspy whisper. “Come in, Whittenfield.” There was a slight delay. “Whittenfield, I can’t hear anything — if you can hear me, I’m beginning the transmission now. We’re about to begin the search for the crystal, but we have been intercepted by the Vilocorp group. 

“Vilocek is here, and we’re currently, uh, with him. I’m going to keep this line open, see if I can’t get him to talk a bit. I need to know what we’re up against. If you’re there, you might want to record this.”

Whittenfield started the recording device on the software program. He reclined a bit more and closed his eyes. For the next hour there was nothing but static, but he let it run. 

Eventually, he heard them begin to talk — something about one of the big Moai heads he’d read about — then about the video feed he’d sent to Bryce. After a while, he could hear Vilocek begin one of his monologues, this time about the crystal and what they’d discovered about it so far.