The Tenth Cycle: A Thriller (A Rossler Foundation Mystery Book 1) (42 page)

Initial evidence from the records suggest that people of the tenth cycle were living normal active healthy and productive lives up to 180 years on average.

A team of world-renowned physicists have already verified and confirmed some of the fusion technology discoveries that promise a clean and cheap energy source for everyone on the planet.

This gigantic unearthing is bound to not only jolt science and politics but also religion, academia, economists, evolutionists, intelligent-design proponents, historians and many others who will have to account for this information or rethink their current positions. 

It is already abundantly clear that positive as well as potentially serious negative implications for the human race are in the cards.

The authors of the message made it very clear that the information is being entrusted to its discoverers to be used for everyone's benefit, to improve our lives and enhance our society. The Rossler Foundation has already pledged to honor that trust by seeing to it that the information is distributed in a fair and responsible way to all nations.

The NYT has negotiated the exclusive and ongoing rights to publish the research findings of the Rossler Foundation.  We have assigned a special section in this paper to keep our readers up to date as and when new information becomes available. Please see Page B1 for more on the remarkable discoveries already available for further research, courtesy of the Rossler Foundation.

The editors of the New York Times encourage human beings of all walks of life in all nations, to stay abreast of and assimilate this knowledge, which is certain to bring about, as Huxley termed it, a Brave New World; hopefully this one a utopia instead of the dystopia envisioned by Huxley.

~~~

The all-caps headline, a departure from the Times’ regular look, screamed at early-morning commuters two days later, true to Aaron's word. Expecting some clever trick to be revealed, many read the story. More than a few realized that their lives, in fact, everyone's lives, would never be the same. The majority didn't understand the impact at all, until the radio and television news media began to pick it up and tell them what to think.

The Times story recapped the sixteen months of research that had led to the discovery of an ancient encyclopedia. The revelations therein ripped the lid off every scientific and historic discipline there was, throwing academics of all stripes into panic and dismay, except those who pronounced it a hoax before they understood it had already been validated and proved. They would be the first to fall as the world adjusted to the new reality.

The Rosslerites, as all members of the foundation would eventually be called, watched with their hearts in their mouths as news media all over the world began to pick up the story the Times had published that morning. It hardly seemed possible that they could have managed everything within that time, but there it was, a secret no longer.

Sinclair had several monitors slaved to the server and showing different TV feeds from around the world. On one, the Pope was downplaying the discovery, saying it was too early to draw conclusions and that the Church would be involved in studying the facts as they were revealed; meanwhile, people should remain calm. Behind the scenes, one Cardinal was heard to joke to another, 'Too bad we no longer have the Inquisition.' The Pope, however, a saintly man who nevertheless was an adept politician, was already thinking that the Church should have a representative on the board of this Foundation that the story mentioned.

Another feed showed a number of oddly-dressed people cavorting on top of a skyscraper as had been shown in the film Independence Day. Closer inspection showed them to be wearing makeshift antennae or other trappings of people who believed in, almost worshipped, extraterrestrial life. Daniel half-expected Raj to be among them until he realized that of course Raj was right by his side, shaking his head at the foolishness. Everyone knew aliens didn't alight from a UFO and say 'take me to your leader.' Still, he expected contact to be soon in coming, despite Daniel's little joke. He was still smarting under that one, when Daniel had laughed and pointed at the screen showing the alien-welcomers, saying 'What do you call a tick on the moon? A luna-tick!" Everyone had laughed then. Now Raj knew what they truly thought of his obsession, but he would show them. They would all apologize soon.

Still other feeds streamed the news from governing bodies, including the US Senate, all showing a great deal of consternation and bombast as the members debated what this announcement would mean for their respective countries. They couldn't see, but could imagine the same sort of frenzy occurring anywhere that people had a stake in the status quo: governments, industry, universities, churches. No one would escape the consequent confusion.

Daniel was rather enjoying the chaos, while Sarah, with her hand pressed over her mouth, worried that riots may break out. Sinclair was busy keeping the feeds alive, some of them pirated, and Martha with tears in her eyes silently spoke to her deceased beloved. "Mark, I wish you were here to see this. You started a revolution, my darling."

Earlier that morning in Washington, at about the same time as the media began to pick up the Times story, President Nigel Harper strode into the Oval Office for his morning briefing. A contingent of aides and advisors were on hand just outside the door and waiting for their few minutes of precious time with the Chief Executive, but first Harper would scan the security briefing and anything else that his staff had deemed important. A quick perusal of the summary, prepared two hours before from overnight news items, convinced him that not much had changed overnight. Until he read the NY Times clipping that was at the bottom of the stack.

The headline was intriguing, clever of them to grab the attention that way, he thought. As he read, though, and realized that the article was serious, color drained from his face. Barking the names of his Chief of Staff and one or two aides, the visibly-disturbed leader of the Western world demanded answers.

"What the hell is this? Did we know anything about it? And if not, why not?" Aides scrambled while Phil Bertrand, Chief of Staff, tried to calm his principal.

"Mr. President, I don't recall anything in any briefing about this. But I'll get the Directors of the FBI and CIA on the line at once, and see if they have answers. Is there anything else?"

"You're damned right there's something else. I want to talk to these people...yesterday! Get them on the line."

"Um, Mr. President, I, uh, I'm not sure we know how to contact them." Bertrand had never had to make such a statement in his life, and hated that he was making it now. During a crisis was not the time to have the President lose confidence in him. He looked up to find Harper's eyes boring into him.

A deceptively quiet sentence escaped Harper's clenched teeth, "I suggest you figure that out." It would have been better, Bertrand thought, if he had yelled. When Harper got quiet like that, heads tended to roll.

"Yes, Sir," he said in a crisp voice. "You'll have it as soon as possible."

"That had better be sooner rather than later. After you get that, call the Speaker of the House, the Senate majority leader, the Secretary of State, and the Directors of the FBI and CIA. They're to be here in three hours for an emergency meeting, no excuses. And send in the Press Secretary."

Bertrand left the Oval Office as if shot from a slingshot, and jerked his thumb back toward it as he made eye contact with the Press Secretary. He didn't envy the woman who was about to enter the lion's den.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. President?" she said, steeling herself for a tirade. But, Harper had managed to calm himself for this conversation.

"Margaret, we need a response to this, am I right?"

"Yes, Mr. President. The sooner the better."

"Announce a press conference for four this afternoon. Prepare something generic that says we're looking into it, everyone stay calm. I'll use that if I haven't found out something more substantial. And have some writers on hand just after lunch. I've called a meeting for ten-thirty, and by noon we should have some idea of what's going on."

"That sounds like a good plan, Mr. President."

"That's why they pay me the big bucks," grinned Harper, a multi-millionaire in his own right who had taken a substantial pay cut to become the President of the United States.

Bertrand, meanwhile, had rousted the two Directors and within the hour discovered that Assistant CIA director Samuel Lewis already had some information about the Rosslerites, and indeed had known something of the story that was causing such a ruckus. After calling Lewis and dressing him down for not alerting the President, Bertrand demanded that Lewis locate the Rosslerites and make arrangement for the President to contact them right away. Lewis called Luke, who called his old friend, who contacted Akiva Beckman. Assured that the information would be kept strictly confidential, a phone number in Israel was passed back up the same line, eventually reaching the Director of the CIA, who promptly made his way to the Oval Office with it.

"Where are they?" the President demanded.

"Israel, Sir," answered the Director, who was a little worried about his job, since he had known nothing of all this. He was going to have to clean house the first chance he had, because evidently his people had been playing fast and loose with their brief. They weren't even supposed to be running operations within the borders. He especially needed to talk with his Assistant, and by Hector, the man better have a good explanation for keeping this under his hat.

"Why the hell are they in Israel?" Harper barked. "Aren't they Americans?"

"Yes, Sir. Apparently they had some concerns about their safety."

"All right, I'm going to want the whole story in a minute. But first, I need to call these people. Bertrand, get in here and help me with this damned phone system."

~~~

Into the sound and fury that reigned in the server room came the old-fashioned ring of a land-line telephone. Everyone looked around for the set, which no one had used in this room since they arrived in the villa. Not finding it, they spread out, but the ringing stopped. They were all unsettled about the missed call until Daniel spied Rachel running down the hall with a handset in her outstretched hand.

"Mr. Rossler, it, it, here..."

Daniel took the set, frowning with bewilderment at the agitated housekeeper. "Hello," he said.

"Mr. Daniel Rossler?" queried the voice on the other end of the line.

"Yes."

"This is the President of the United States of America. You seem to have dropped a bombshell, young man."

Daniel almost dropped the phone. The President! Calling personally...and how had he obtained this number?

"Yes, Mr. President, so it seems."

"I trust that you and the lovely Ms. Clarke are loyal citizens of your country?"

"Yes, Sir."

"May I ask why you chose to make this announcement from Israel?"

Daniel's blood chilled a little when he realized that the President obviously knew their location. If the US knew, then so did other countries, maybe some that weren't so friendly. Not to mention the Orion Society. Carefully, he answered, "Mr. President, I'd like to respectfully refer you to the head of the CIA for the answer to that question."

"Are you implying that the CIA has been involved in something that gave you reason to believe you weren't safe?"

"Yes, Sir, Mr. President."

A heavy sigh was transmitted across the line. "Very well, I will speak to them. But I'd like to congratulate you on your discovery, and say how proud I am that Americans were the ones to break the code."

"Sir, it took a great deal of effort, and not all of us are as American as you seem to think. Our data analyst is a naturalized citizen, but was born in India. I want to emphasize that we feel the discovery belongs to the world, not just the US."

"I'd very much like to have a conversation with you face-to-face, Mr. Rossler. May I send Air Force One to bring you home?"

"Mr. President, thank you very much for the offer. But, for reasons I'll be happy to explain in person, we are not prepared to leave our present location. We're under the protection of the Israeli government, and that will stay the same until certain arrangements can be made. We're willing to meet with you, but only on our terms."

President Harper's voice was a little colder, almost dangerous, when he responded with deceptive mildness, "And what would those be, Mr. Rossler?"

"Mr. President I don’t know if you are aware what has driven us into this position. If you will allow me I will give you a very brief overview. I hope you will be able to understand our caution.”

“Please go ahead. It seems to me there is lot I don’t know that I should have known,” said the President, looking across the room at Bertrand who appeared very uncomfortable.

“Mr. President some of our friends and colleagues were murdered during the course of our research, my grandparents were taken hostage and Dr. Clarke was kidnapped and almost killed. For most of this time we were under the so called protection of a CIA agent who we have now learned has been working for an international organization with malicious intent.

“For the last few months since our friend Dr. Mark Simms was killed we were under constant threat, right up to the last day in the USA, when we narrowly escaped with people in a helicopter shooting at us, trying to kill us and wounding one of our team members in the hand. If it were not for the help of our current hosts we would all be dead by now.

“We want to know why, and we want the killers and perpetrators found and punished. It's our understanding that the CIA agent who was presumably protecting us and was recently killed while in CIA custody has been working for a secret organization called The Orion Society. What can you do to help us find our friend's murderer? Finally, Mr. President it was a big shock to find out that this CIA agent was actually just waiting for us to translate the code and then kill us as well."

“Rossler I swear I knew nothing about any of this. I am shocked and ashamed to learn that we could not provide you the protection you and your group needed when you needed it. I promise you I will investigate this and heads will roll.

“Having said that, I still have to meet with you and your group and I now understand why you don’t want to leave Israel. I am happy to listen to your conditions.”

"As I said, we won't leave safe haven. You'll have to come here if you want to talk face-to-face, otherwise it'll have to be by video hookup. Whatever the format or the venue of the meeting we'd like you to bring some people with you. The head of the CIA, because we've got some questions for him. Leaders and opposition leaders of both houses of Congress. We won't give this information to one political party, or even one country, alone. It needs to be distributed fairly and in a balanced way."

"Go on." If Daniel noticed the ice dripping from the President's tone, he didn't remark on it. Instead, he went on, improvising as he spoke. "We'll have the meeting recorded, and both your party and ours will have copies so the record can't be misinterpreted after the fact. Sorry, Sir, but we have prior experience of what happens when you can't document something. Nothing personal."

"No offense taken," came the dry answer.

“Is there anything else?"

"I can't think of anything at the moment, Sir."

"I'll be in touch."

Daniel let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding after the call was disconnected. The others were all looking at him with curiosity, having heard only part of the conversation, but enough to understand what had just happened.

"Well if Mohammed won’t go to the mountain, then the mountain must go to Mohammed. It looks like we may have some high ranking company very soon.”

In Washington, an irked President Harper called his Chief of Staff back into the room. "Who are these people? How did they get the protection of the Israeli government? Why could we not protect them? Why is the CIA involved and not the FBI? Why is it that they seem prepared for every eventuality? Get the FBI on this immediately. I want full background reports for everyone involved and you better make sure you don’t miss anything I am supposed to know about them."

"Yes, Sir."

It was a testament to the seriousness with which the President took the situation that only three days after the phone call, Daniel received another from the Chief of Staff, detailing the plans. With the cooperation of the Israeli government, the President would make an official visit, concealing that he would be meeting with the Rossler Foundation. Over the course of several days, he would be wined and dined by the President of Israel and he, along with the leaders of the Senate and House of Representatives, would meet with leaders of the Knesset. All to put up a smoke screen for their meeting, which would take place in the villa. Before the President arrived, though, a team of Secret Service agents would scour the villa for weapons, bugs and anything else they might consider dangerous.

The Chief of Staff gave Daniel to understand that the whole charade would be tremendously expensive, apparently in an attempt to intimidate him. Daniel let it roll off his back. The meeting was to take place on a Thursday, the soonest that all arrangements could be put in place. What Bertrand didn't tell Daniel, was that the President's staff, courtesy of the FBI, now knew everything about the Rosslerites, right down to the color of Sarah’s underwear, the recipe for Martha’s oatmeal cookies and Daniel's first grade marks. And what Bertrand didn't know, was that one very important trait of Daniel's was somehow missed; his legendary powers of persuasion.

With little to do, now that the secret was published and they were just waiting for the right time to go home, the group persuaded Daniel to request some entertainment from Baruch. The women wanted to see Jerusalem, in particular. Sinclair wanted to interview several linguists at the university, with an eye to hiring help as soon as their non-profit status came through. Accordingly, Baruch was notified, and came through with flying colors. Tours and shopping trips were arranged, all under the still-watchful eyes of his agents, but everyone agreed that the threat had become moot when the secrets were published.

Evenings were spent in the swimming pool, but even soaking until they turned pruny left several hours to fill. One night, Martha asked if anyone could play any of the instruments in the music room. Sarah was hesitant to confess to it, but she was a near concert-quality pianist. Daniel played passable guitar. Martha declared 'live karaoke night' and organized the whole evening, asking each member of the group what they'd like to perform and downloading sheet music from the internet if they asked for it. When it came to Sinclair, he declared that all he knew was Celtic ditties, but Martha said he'd have to participate, so he named one that was a particular favorite, The Old Dun Cow. Innocently, Martha agreed it would be fine.