The Tenth Cycle: A Thriller (A Rossler Foundation Mystery Book 1) (40 page)

Daniel reached the same conclusion, although he was less sanguine about the short term than Sarah. But, they had put their safety in the hands of this government, and at least one government official already knew why. Nothing ventured, nothing gained was his final conclusion. He marshaled his thoughts so as not to waste much time in the explanation.

By the time he was finished, it was a thunderstruck lawyer who stammered out his response. "Th-this is the m-most extraordinary thing I've ever heard! Are you sure?"

In answer, Daniel pulled copies of the translations, the same documents he'd showed to Akiva a few days ago, from a manila folder and handed them to Benjamin. Upon reading the second one, Benjamin turned white.

"And you have reason to believe that you can translate these records? And use the information?" he asked incredulously.

"Absolutely. We can already authenticate them. In fact, the man behind that second translation is even now working on the index of subjects the records contain. Would you like to meet him?"

Wordlessly, Benjamin nodded, still staring in fascination at the second translation. Daniel looked around for an intercom and went over to see if he could raise Sinclair on it. After a few attempts, he found the correct button and asked Sinclair to join them. Rising to meet his friend, Daniel introduced him to the lawyer, who also rose and extended his hand.

"Have a seat, Sinclair. Can you briefly explain to Attorney Benjamin how you came to translate this message?" Daniel said, indicating the paper on the table.

"Sure, and why not," lilted Sinclair. As succinctly as possible, he outlined the process, which Benjamin followed carefully. Then Benjamin nodded that he understood.

"Thank, you, Sinclair. Mr. Benjamin, do you think we'll require Sinclair's presence any longer?"

"No, not at present, thank you," the attorney said.

When Sinclair had left, Benjamin drew a deep breath. "Well, this is going to be the highlight of my career. I suspect that your foundation will change the course of human history."

"I certainly hope so," Sarah muttered.

"Let's draw up a simple corporate structure, with the ability to expand it if need be. As for a business plan, the simpler we can state it, the easier it will be to follow it, not that it will be a requirement to do so. I'd say something as simple as, "The purpose of the business is to cause the translation and utilization of all relevant records contained in that code found in the Great Pyramid at Giza and discovered by Daniel and Sarah Rossler. What do you want to call the foundation?"

"Wait," said Daniel. "We're not prepared to make all the decisions right now. We've got other people to consult. Just tell us what you need us to provide for you to draw up the papers, and we'll work on it today and tonight. Then, if you would please, come back in the morning and we'll have it for you."

"Very well," said Benjamin. He left them with a list of what he'd need to put in the application, and left, promising to be back early the next day, a Monday.

Sarah knocked on Martha's door and widened her eyes in surprise when the older woman opened it dressed in her new swimsuit, a navy blue maillot with a pattern of small white flowers, draped in a criss-crossed V-neck across the bodice and with a flirty little ruffled skirt playing around the tops of her thighs. A smaller waist than Sarah had realized Martha had nipped in between the curves.

"Martha, you look sensational!"

Martha blushed and drew her in so she could close the door. "You don't think it's too low-cut?" she said. "I really wish I could have picked out my own suit."

"Don't you like it? Wow, Martha, I didn't know you had such a great figure," Sarah giggled.

"Stop it, you'll make me too self-conscious to wear it! No, I like it. I just wish it were a little more modest." Martha lamented.

"Martha, it's not like they brought you a bikini. It's fine, trust me. In fact, you look stunning. Meet me out by the pool in ten, okay? We can get a swim in before dinner after all."

Sarah flew swiftly through the halls, running on tiptoe so Martha wouldn't hear her, to invite Daniel, Raj and Sinclair to join them. "Hurry!" she admonished the men, then ran to her own rooms to suit up and get to the pool in the allotted time. She was neck-deep in the warm water, concealing her deep recovery breathing, when Martha appeared in a long white caftan over the navy suit. Sarah crossed her fingers under the water, hoping that Sinclair would make it to poolside before Martha doffed the cover-up and entered the pool.

"How's the water?" Martha asked.

"A little warm, actually," Sarah said. "I was hoping we could cool off a bit, but the sun has really heated it up."

"What are Sinclair and Daniel doing?" Martha said, starting to pull the caftan over her head. Her head was still tangled in it when Sinclair's deep tones startled her.

"I don't know what the boy's doing, but yours truly is looking at a beautiful woman!" he exclaimed.

Sarah giggled as Martha visibly jumped, hastily pulling the caftan the rest of the way off and giving Sinclair a wild-eyed look before diving into the pool from the side. When she came up, she saw Sarah giggling. Martha swam over to Sarah and whispered in her ear, "I'm going to turn you over my knee if you pull a stunt like that again." But her broad smile let Sarah know that she was already forgiven. Sarah turned her attention to her Daniel, just coming out to poolside. His chiseled chest never failed to make her thoughts turn to private moments, and she briefly regretted that they had company. But a quick glance at Sinclair in a pair of neon green and orange plaid trunks that covered his legs to his knees startled a laugh out of her and saved her from the embarrassment of further ogling her man.

"That's quite a fashion statement," she called, causing the others to turn and look also. Sinclair struck a pose, then belly-flopped into the pool, a plastic bag wrapped around his hand to keep the bandages from getting wet, splashing everyone else. Raj, dog-paddling earnestly, set his feet down and stood to shake himself off in indignation. Sarah thought rightly that they were all going to have a lot of fun in this pool despite the serious nature of their sojourn, a small compensation for being cooped up behind the walls.

Everyone either swam or paddled about splashing the others for about half an hour, until Rachel appeared, dispatched by Ilana to announce that dinner was ready.

At dinner, Daniel asked the others if they would mind working through the evening, explaining their plans to form a foundation and planning to include the folks at home, as many as he could gather online, via their shared email. It would be a little awkward, but there was no time to wait and gather physically. They needed at least the preliminary decisions made tonight.

"Sinclair, we're going to ask you to head up our science division as Director of Research and Development. I think you should sit in on board meetings, even though I don't suppose it's appropriate for you to have a vote on what your department will be assigned to. Can we count on you?"

"I thought ye'd never ask," rolled the thick brogue that Sinclair sometimes used to mask emotion. "Sure, and I'll be proud t' serve."

"Raj of course as CIO looking after all our technology requirements," Daniel proposed.

The final order of business was to formulate the statement that would serve as the mission statement of the business plan. After much haggling, and major contributions from Martha, who was surprisingly the one experienced non-profit board member, they had a statement that all could endorse:

The goal and objective of the foundation is to:

Undertake, encourage and support worldwide archaeological research including but not limited to conducting research about the Egyptian and other pyramids wherever they are to be found and to share the knowledge gained through its research activities for the common good of all people.

Posting it on the shared email account for the votes of the others, everyone retired for a well-earned night of rest, expecting Benjamin early on Monday morning to retrieve the information they'd compiled for him.

While these events were taking place in Israel, Septentrio had flown personally to the US again, to sort out the disastrous raid on the Canadian border town that had left his organization in shambles. Acutely aware that it was his neck on the line next, he set out to intimidate the remaining undercover agents with temper tantrums to travel immediately to Israel to kidnap the pesky researchers that they couldn’t seem to stop or capture. Behind his back, the CIA operative who’d taken Sidus’ place, code named Latet, got in touch with Auster, who consulted with Occidens and Oriens before placing a video call to Septentrio.

The latter was indulging himself with a massage, having, as he thought, put the plan in motion to capture these upstarts once and for all. Irritated at having his relaxation interrupted, he snapped into the phone, “What!”

Auster’s voice came through, instructing him to take the call on video. Septentrio thought a bit of display of his contempt for the woman was in order, driven by the ill-temper that had gripped him for days. In nothing but the towel that covered his lower body, he activated the video feed.

“What do you want?”

Auster’s sneering face made Septentrio think a second time about revealing his soft, doughy body to her, but it was too late now. “We have heard that you’ve ordered teams to Israel to capture this research team,” she began mildly.

“Yes, and they’d better make short work of it, or they’ll answer to me,” he declared.

“The others and I believe this is the wrong approach, Septentrio. Why don’t you go home, and we’ll sit back and see what happens. Some organization will end up with the responsibility of deploying the information, and it will be easier to infiltrate that than to go up against the Mossad in their own country. It’s over, we lost for the moment, but we’ll win in the long run.”

“But what about…” Septentrio couldn’t bring himself to utter it. His father’s death was still too recent, his conflicted emotions too raw, to discuss it. Besides, he’d been trained to understand that they never discussed it once it was done.

“You’ve just taken office, Septentrio. It was your father who botched this mission, and we’ve exacted our price for that. Go home and wait.” Auster rang off without further conversation, and Septentrio resumed his position on the massage table.

“Start over,” he instructed the masseur.

Auster reflected afterward that the son was a considerably worse liability than the father. Not for the first time, she cursed the setup that left her just one of four and not the most powerful one at that. She’d like to see that sniveling weakling begging for his life, but now was not the time. It was too soon after the power shift caused by his father’s death. Later, she would seize control. In the meanwhile, she would set up stumbling blocks for him.

Mikhail Benjamin sat at the conference table in a larger room of the villa on Wednesday morning, facing this time not only the principals of the foundation, Daniel and Sarah but also an attractive older woman who was apparently already named to the board, and the intense fellow he'd met before, the linguist Sinclair O'Reilly as well as a shy looking Indian man, Rajan Sankaran. All of them were maintaining polite manners, but the atmosphere in the room ranged from slight tension to confusion. And it was all his fault. He should have given them the other document first, the one that was drawn up as they asked, or at least warned them that he had a suggestion.

Rossler stated the question that Mikhail had known was coming ever since he heard Sarah's gasp as she read it over. "I don't understand," Daniel said. "Didn't we say four board members, with one position rotating among our family? This says twenty-one."

"Please, if I may explain," Benjamin responded.

"Please do," said Sarah in her best professorial tone.

"I have another set of the documents, drawn up as you requested. But I spent some time thinking about how to set it up in such a way that it will best serve your goals and objectives, and I therefore offer this document as my recommendation and best advice. You have given me to understand that this is perhaps the greatest scientific discovery of all time," Benjamin started, then hastily corrected himself. "Of our time, our cycle if you will. It seemed to me that a broader base of representation would be needed. The East has a highly diverse political climate. How can an Arab board member represent Israel, or vice versa?" He spread his hands in silent supplication for understanding. It was something he believed passionately, and hoped to persuade his clients to believe as well.

Martha looked at the young couple and said, "He has a point. More would be better. It will make Board meetings a little tricky," she smiled, "But maybe there's some technology that will make it feasible."

"Of course," Daniel answered automatically. "Video conferencing, no problem. Why were we thinking the lower number in the first place?"

"We were tired," Sarah inserted. "We should have waited for the jet lag to pass."

"No time to wait. Do we have consensus?" Seeing the nods around the table, Daniel said to Benjamin, "It seems we owe you an apology and a thank you. Twenty-one it is. Care to have one of the positions?"

A heady mixture of relief that his presumption had been accepted and terror at the prospect of being one of the board members almost overcame the young attorney. "No! I mean, thank you very much, but I don't feel qualified. I suggest you endeavor to sort all the nations of the world into seventeen politically similar groups, each to be represented by a board member to be elected by the heads of state of those countries."

"You've given this a great deal of thought," Daniel observed.

"Yes, sir. It is just a suggestion. All of this is just a suggestion. As I said, the other documents are ready if you wish to revert to your original plan."

"No, I think it's a good suggestion. Do you have the groups in mind?" Sarah asked.

"No, ma'am, I haven't gone that far, although certain groupings are very natural."

"Why twenty-one, then?" Daniel said.

"Oh, why, isn't that obvious? It's a Fibonacci number, and the number of the members of the Supreme Council of Knowledge in your translation."

Thunderstruck, the other four looked at each other, before bursting into spontaneous applause, much to the young lawyer's discomfiture. They considered it unnecessary to run this change past the rest of the families, feeling certain that it would be well-received. Daniel and Sarah signed where Benjamin indicated they should, and he departed to post the package by overnight express mail to Luke Clarke in Boulder.

Sarah said, "I suppose we'd better get busy and finish that white paper."

"Right, but can you handle that on your own? I've got a set of questions and answers to write up for Selleck, and a press release announcing the formation of the Rossler Foundation."

"Daniel?"

"Yes, my love?"

"I'm so very proud of you. And I love you with all of my heart." Daniel stood and pulled Sarah out of the chair beside him, wrapping her in his arms tightly and kissing her thoroughly.

"Sweetheart, I love you, too. And I'm equally proud of you. Now, let's go change the world."