The Tenth Cycle: A Thriller (A Rossler Foundation Mystery Book 1) (2 page)

Thunderous applause greeted the last of the four announcements of Pulitzer prizes awarded to the Gray Lady’s reporting for last year. So-named because of the tradition of having a higher-than average ratio of verbiage to images, the venerable paper almost always pulled in several Pulitzers per year, and this year was no exception with four won. It wasn’t the highest number of the coveted prizes the Times had won, missing the record seven of 2002 by nearly half. Still, it was cause for celebration.

Daniel Rossler applauded along with the rest of the crowd, who thronged the newsroom floor and lined the glass safety barrier of the upper floor. As a science feature reporter specializing in archaeology, he probably couldn’t expect a Pulitzer, not unless he broke a story that somehow changed human knowledge. Chuckling and shaking his head, Daniel told himself he had probably missed the boat when his previous assignment ended.

His physique still showed the rigorous training that he had received in tandem with the Marine battalion with which he was embedded in the Middle East. At times, Daniel missed the adventure and the adrenaline rush of battle, though he shouldn’t have been a part of it. His willingness to put himself in the line of fire, though, had paid off when both Marines whom he’d helped that day near Kabul survived their injuries. For that, he had received a letter of commendation from the battalion commander when he left the assignment.

Rossler was a modest man, though he appreciated praise as much as anyone. He had been embarrassed when his friend Owen had found the reference online and read the letter aloud to the newsroom. ‘Mature, brave and composed in the face of difficult and life threatening conditions...’ and ‘...would have been proud to have commanded him as a Marine...’ High praise for an outfit that prided itself on being better than all others. But the truth was, aside from that occasional nostalgia for adventure, Daniel was happy that the only loud noises he usually heard around here were cars backfiring on cold days in the city and the crash of a vehicle collision now and then.

Mindy, the archaeology desk executive assistant, watched from a few yards away as Daniel’s face reflected the pride he felt in the Times for the Pulitzers. Mindy took every opportunity she could to stare at Daniel’s face, because it was a very pleasing one, not only to her, but to the other women in the office. Everything just seemed to work together, though no particular feature, except his sincere blue eyes, stood out. He was fit, that was clear from his trim body, casually dressed most days. His face was almost chiseled, with a jaw line that betrayed no hint of fat, a firm chin and straight nose. His brown hair, often tousled carelessly, looked as if it would be soft if she ran her fingers through it.

Mindy blushed as she recalled her first clumsy attempt to get his attention by inviting him to join her for a drink some night. He had been sweet about it, saving her from the embarrassment of a public rejection. “Sure, Mindy, let’s do that sometime.” But, although he treated everyone with respect and received their respect in turn, he never, ever dated the women from the office. Mindy had learned that later. His friend Owen Bell said it was because he didn’t want rumors to start about the girls, and that it was a strict policy that he, Owen, did not subscribe to, if she’d like to go out with him.

Unaware of Mindy’s scrutiny, Daniel turned back to his computer monitor to finish the article he was reading. There may be a story, there, but it would require quite a bit of research to be publishable. A Brazilian archaeologist claimed that his study of South American cave art suggested that people had inhabited the region 18,000 years before it was previously thought. After reading the introductory paragraphs again, Daniel leaned back into his chair and considered the implications.

The dull roar of hundreds of people working in an open room served as white noise while Daniel finished the Brazilian’s article and began some research to determine if the story he vaguely sensed was there. More than once a hunch like this paid off in major stories, so he had learned to go with his gut. Daniel needed a story, preferably one that he could back up with the appropriate documentation that would interest the readers, and most of all that would pass the scrutiny of his editor, John Kingston.

Before he settled on this story, though, Daniel turned to another article he’d seen in ArchaeoScience Journal. This one might be too controversial, though. The trick was to make John think it was his own idea and to assure him there would be no controversy in his own article, that it would be balanced and fair. Controversy had become Kingston’s worst enemy.

Daniel knew his secret. John was at the top of his career ladder. In his mid-fifties, Kingston could expect no further promotion, as younger men and women of greater ability held those spots. He had lost interest in the job, although he still went through the motions. But, in his spare time, and occasionally on company time, he was writing a novel in the hope that it would afford him an early retirement. Until then he wouldn’t rock the boat, nor would he allow his reporters to do so.

Daniel made a few calls, gathered some references and skimmed the articles. Meanwhile, he prepared his approach to his editor, crafting it to match what he knew of Kingston’s interest and concern. Unlike his fellow journalists, Daniel’s philosophy was that you can catch more flies with honey than by hitting them over the head with a baseball bat. His ability to persuade people to his point of view was legendary and bore out his philosophy to perfection.

~~~

The title of the ASJ article that had caught his interest was, “
Who Built the Great Pyramid and Why
?”

Daniel had skimmed dozens of similar stories, but had paid little attention before. Interested in archaeology from a young age because of his grandfather’s profession, he had studied ancient Egypt and her archaeological treasures as a boy. The claims that the pyramids, and specifically the Great Pyramid at Giza, were older than scientists said, or could not have been built in those times, and especially the speculation that ‘aliens’ built it, had always struck him as silly, on a par with his friend Raj’s conspiracy theories. But this article was a peer-reviewed piece from ArchaeoScience Journal. ASJ was a well-respected scientific quarterly; they didn’t print trash.

As Daniel skimmed the Great Pyramid article, he went on high alert. Much of the data was over his head at first reading, especially the mathematics and the discussion of the precision of measurements. But if he could dig in and understand it, this might be his story. The facts alone about the Great Pyramid were astounding. Current accepted archaeological evidence about its origin put the building of it at almost forty-six hundred years ago, some five hundred years before the invention of the wheel, which begged the question, how did the builders move those blocks of solid granite? The quarry where the blocks had been cut from the living rock was over five hundred miles away! Telekinesis, maybe? Daniel muttered under his breath, “Anyone who believes in telekinesis, raise my hand.” Smirking, he let his hand rise slowly off the keyboard, but in all honesty could think of no better answer. He read on.

Considering he had already dismissed any mode of transportation that may have existed at the time, it was a bit of an anticlimax to learn that each of the blocks weighed between two and an astounding seventy tons. Curious, he stopped reading to research whether even the most powerful modern crane could lift those stones, much less transport them five hundred miles. What he learned was very confusing, involving the mathematics of weight versus distance from the counterweight. Deciding he’d get expert help on that question, he gave up looking for the answer; it was ridiculous anyway, since ancient Egyptians clearly had no access to modern cranes, and if they had, would still have had no wheels to move them. His head began to hurt; math wasn’t his strong suit.

Never mind how the blocks had been transported and then lifted into place, the article went on, what about the precision of the cuts and measurements? The structure had been built solid, the blocks fitting together so tightly that not even a sheet of paper could be inserted between them, but no mortar had been used except that which held the original facing stones onto the pyramid. That was another mystery in itself. Apparently, although the composition was known, to this day scientists had not been able to duplicate the mortar.

The passages and chambers were then cut out after the pyramid was constructed. But, they didn’t follow the plans of other pyramids of the time. Once again, Daniel found himself entangled in a bewildering set of facts about measurements. All he could clearly understand was that the precision not only in the cuts of the stones, but also in every aspect of the pyramid, from its placement with regard to the Earth’s poles to its measurements, required knowledge that wouldn’t be discovered or established for thousands of years. In fact, taken as a whole, it was as much as anything a microcosm holding what were, at the time it was built, the secrets of the universe, everything from the circumference of the earth to the speed of light.

Now Daniel was deeply intrigued. Unable to stop reading, even though he could understand only half of what he read, Daniel began to suspect that this was a far more interesting story than the one he had started to research. He started jotting down names of experts he could consult for a better understanding of those areas where his knowledge was weak. Regretting his inattention in his math classes in high school and college, Daniel resigned himself to a crash course. What was the significance of this business about Pi and Phi? He would have to dig into all of it.

In the ancient city of Wurzburg, Germany, a chilling conversation was taking place in a half-ruined refuge castle. Near the edge of the bombing that destroyed ninety percent of the city and took countless lives on March 16, 1945, it had been passed over during the restoration of more important historic buildings. The Bronze-age fortress was dank, ill-lit and thought to be uninhabited, but the four people who were meeting thought nothing of all that. Their secrecy was the greatest concern. Meeting in such a place would not have been expected of persons possessed of their wealth and power, much less the demi-gods they considered themselves; therefore, the discomforts were to be endured with no complaint. Besides, it had been used for this purpose for untold centuries.

The three men and one woman had gathered around an ancient stone table, each seat named for one of the four quarters of the Earth, as were the members. Now, of course, with modern communication and travel, their projects tended to move quickly, rather than in decades or centuries as in former times. They typically met via their own private and ultra-secure satellite videoconferencing facility. However, once per quarter, they went through the ancient motions for the sake of history. Their seating arrangement around the rough stone table was as set as was the stone itself; clockwise, from Septentrio at the head of the table in the North position, Oriens in the East position at his left, then Auster in the South position, the role traditionally filled by a woman, and finally Occidens in the West position at Septentrio's right hand. All wore masks, as was traditional, along with heavy robes that not only obscured the identity and body of the wearer, but served as a barrier to the piercing cold of the castle in summer and winter alike.

It had been so since the beginning, each generation naming a descendant from the next to take the place of any member who chose to exit the earthly plane for one of the four corners of heaven, according to their names. The four current members of the Orion Society were as mad with their power as any of their predecessors, and highly anxious to find the answer that had eluded them concerning their ascension to heaven prior to death.

One of the current projects, that one long-standing and requiring the patience of generations, promised to provide, if not answers, then at least clues. The other was undertaken for financial reasons. Septentrio indicated that Auster should make her report first, as her project was the simplest at hand.

"The rumors we've investigated are at least partially true. You will recall from our last meeting that we had reports of a team of archaeologists finding an ancient ruined city deep in the Brazilian rain forest, and that it was said the city was full of gold artifacts. Naturally, we questioned the literal truth of the rumor, but as you know, Brazil does have large gold reserves, and there are some areas where many Brazilians make their living panning for gold. At this time, we have questioned the leader of the archaeological team. He was very vague about the location, but we have been able to ascertain that there is indeed a ruined Inca city in the Mato Grosso plateau.

“More importantly, it appears that an abandoned underground mine nearby shows signs of massive gold reserves. We are in the process of courting this man's greed in order to take over the exploration and exploit the mine. I estimate that we will be able to quash the rumors and any reports the members of the team might otherwise bring back, as well as begin mining operations, within the next three months." Auster’s tone suggested that she considered her project a great success already. Septentrio affirmed it.

"Excellent work, Auster." However, he could not resist issuing a warning, "I don't need to tell you that the members of the team must disappear in ways that cannot lead back to us."

"Of course not, Septentrio. I will take care of the matter."

Septentrio had a small contribution before the meeting was adjourned. “As you all know, we maintain a data-mining operation to flag items posted to the internet that are of interest to our projects. We also investigate anyone who might be taking a more than passing interest in these items.

“It has come to my attention that someone whose IP address leads back to a journalist at the New York Times has, over the past few days, heavily researched facts mentioned in an article that ArchaeoScience journal published regarding the age and technology of the Great Pyramid.  It is too early to say if anything will come of it. I will keep a close watch on this through my contact at the New York Times and report as usual.