Passage Graves (21 page)

Chapter 53

FRIDAY 1:42 a.m.

Stenness Basecamp

Orkney Island, Scotland

“What the hell happened out there?” Hummer slammed his fist into the dusty remains of the conference table.

Other than the glow of a few work
ing monitors, the helm was dark. Lee had managed to get the emergency lighting online in the conference room as well as the back-up ventilation. The conference table was still intact along with a few chairs.

“
We have less than 77 hours before the next round!” Hummer rubbed his irritated eyes. The air quality was still very poor. He looked at Thatcher and then Marek. “I want to hear everything you know about those graves. Everything.”

Marek clutched
the bandage wrapped around his injured leg. “The passage graves acted with sentient force,” he said.

“He wants the facts,
you bloody idiot,” Lee said. “I’ve been saying this all along, we should just destroy them.”

Marek retorted
. “Those graves matched us blow for blow and then unleashed a blast wave like they had some sort of vendetta.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re cognizant,” Lee
said.

“We need to go back inside Maeshowe,” Thatcher
inserted. “We need to understand what we’re dealing with.”

“
No!” All the men joined in unison.

At least they all agreed on something.

Thatcher gritted her teeth. “When Golke and Bailey went in it was poor timing. Marek determined that. We’ve got to try again.”

“
Not if they’re sentient,” Lee mocked Marek.

The
two glared at each other.

“No
one is going into those graves,” Hummer said. “Lee, what’s the status of basecamp?”

“The northeastern section of the bunker was completely destroyed and most of our equipment i
s lost under debris,” he said. “The mainframe is disabled. Our computer system is irreparable. Security is offline. The shaft foundation isn’t pretty, but the lift should hold until the next round.”

“What about nutriment?” Hummer asked.

“We can access dry packs,” Lee replied. “We have enough of those to last until next winter.”

Thatcher’s stomach turned at the thought of eating dehydrated food.

“I can put together a makeshift helm and get us more hardware,” Lee continued. “We can empty out the extra storage room between personal quarters and the helm, and use that for a computer lab. As far as acoustic equipment goes, I think a few of our monitors and registers work so we can adequately measure each grave’s output.”

“
Don’t you get it?” Marek interrupted. “We could have all the equipment in the world and it wouldn’t matter. All our tools can do is measure noise and compute data. We’re dealing with a non-referential indeterminate. We don’t know what the hell that sound is, where it’s coming from, or what it will do over the next four days.”

“Could we d
isassemble the ruins?” Hummer asked. “Would that stop the buildup of acoustic pressure?”

“Isbister isn’t intact
,” Thatcher said. “That tomb has a hole in the top of the chamber and it’s still active. For all we know, drilling holes could release even more noise.”

“Operation Standing Wave was successful
until
the passage graves fired a second round,” Hummer said. “Is it possible our weapons could work if we knew the graves were capable of additional detonations?”

“There’s no way we could generate that kind of powe
r.” Marek shook his head. “That’s the problem. We don’t know. We can’t know.”

“Maybe the secondary explosion
is
the new pattern,” Lee suggested. “When the first few graves erupted after Maeshowe, Dr. Marek thought that was random sequencing, too. They ended up building in pressure at different rates but following a concise detonation pattern.”

“
Every 77 hours,” Thatcher said.

Marek turned to Hummer. “I couldn’t have stoppe
d that blast wave. Nobody could have stopped it. Have you seen topside? It’s a goddamn war zone out there. Stenness is flattened. Maeshowe didn’t just release a subsonic wave—she fired off a blast wave. Our acoustic technology can’t come close to imitating that.” He turned to Lee. “And, if you insist on staying semi-rational, then we need to be talking quantum physics, multi-dimension reality, and chaos theory. Not Newtonian physics. Bailey and Golke walked into that chamber and found what?”

“Nothing,”
Thatcher said.

“Nothing.” Marek repeated, looking over at Hummer. “We’re no closer to solving this now than we were eight days ago. Thinking conservatively won’t save anybody’
s ass.”

“How c
ould an acoustic blast of that magnitude come from nothing?” Hummer asked.

Thatcher blinked in surprise. For the first time, Hummer was actually
entertaining alternatives.

Marek shrugged. “We’ve been so obsessed with stopping the graves, we’ve completely ignored the how and the why.”

“How are we supposed to—?” Lee began.

Hummer silenced him with a glare.

“Tesla versus Einstein.” Marek straightened. He had the group’s full attention. “Two white dudes with mad brain power. Einstein believed the atom was a fixed unit of energy, and that energy existed within mass. E=mc². You know the deal. According to Einstein, when you break apart an atom, it’s like cracking open an egg. You get energy.”

“
Continue,” Hummer said, interested.

“On
the flipside, Tesla theorized energy isn’t located
within
an atom, but it exists
outside
the atom. There’s an energy field surrounding us. The whole universe is one gigantic energy vortex.”

“What
would this have to do with the graves?” Hummer asked.

“If Tesla was right,” Marek continued, “
and energy doesn’t come from an atom’s mass, then that could explain why we perceive something coming out of nothing.”

Hummer leaned forward. “So Maeshowe
could be discharging noise because of some invisible energy field?”

“
Sure, if you’re Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Lee rolled his eyes.

Marek
cleared his throat. “All this time we thought we were manipulating atoms, we were merely toying with the energy field in which they exist. Tesla believed energy flows in a cyclical pattern that moves faster than the speed of light. This spiral of energy exists outside of space and time, but we’re linked into it. We can’t see it, but it affects everything we see.”

Hummer shook his head.

“That’s why so many natural formations make the structure of a vortex,” Marek said. “The Golden Ratio of 1:1.618033989 is an infinite logarithmic spiral. Tornados and hurricanes form an energy vortex. Galaxies, bubble chamber particles, snail shells, the curve of space-time—hell, my toilet even flushes in a spiral.”

“So there
is
something inside those graves?” Hummer asked.

“A
toms within this energy vortex are usually at a state of rest. There’s a balanced relationship between matter and energy. Everyone is chill. But if the balance is upset—like in nuclear fission—then a tremendous amount of energy is released to balance things out.” He drew on the table with his fingers. “Okay, way oversimplifying here, but think of energy as a whirlpool. The water current is energy we can’t see. If you put a leaf in the whirlpool, it’ll move. But energy isn’t coming
from
the leaf. We might think it is, because that’s the object we see moving, but the energy is coming from the water current surrounding the leaf.”

“Some in
visible whirlpool is killing us?” Lee asked.

“Y
ou could say that,” Marek replied. “But, here’s where it gets tricky. Fission and fusion are mankind’s interaction with energy. Whether we’re splitting matter or fusing it together, we can see energy being released in the process. If Tesla’s right, all we’re really doing is manipulating the energy vortex. We’re moving a teeny tiny wave inside the energy whirlpool.”

“So?”
Hummer said.

“This means the energy vortex
itself can be manipulated. Something sentient and probably smarter than us could create what we interpret as something out of nothing.’”

Lee scoffed.
“Like who? God?”

Marek shrugged. “God…
Tesla…Hummer. What does it matter?”

Hummer app
reciated the joke.

Marek sat back in his chair.
“Tesla’s theory is the only way I can explain something originating from nothing.”

“How do you stop a sound wave that originates from nothing?”
Hummer asked.

“A vacuum,
” Lee said. “Nothing can exist inside a vacuum.”

Marek nodded in a
greement.

“W
hat would happen if we destroyed the graves?” Hummer said.

“It’s h
ard to say,” Marek answered. “Dr. Thatcher could be right. The structural design of the graves might actually hold back noise and not just amplify it. On the other hand, Lee could be right and we could stop them with a vacuum.”

Thatcher was disappointed.
It didn’t feel right, destroying the ruins. That wasn’t the answer.

“You g
et rid of the graves, you get rid of the noise,” Lee said.

“The sound isn’t just noise.
” Thatcher interjected. Hummer had asked for all the facts, even the crazy ones.

“
What are you talking about?” Lee asked disapprovingly.

Thatcher nodded to Marek
. “Tell them, Marek.”

He
exhaled loudly.

Hummer’s brow furrowed.
“Dr. Marek?”

“I was able to
localize a portion of the soundwave Golke recorded in Maeshowe,” he answered. “It’s definitely a message.”

“W
hat’s the message?” Hummer asked.

“
We can’t recognize the language—but there
is
a distinct voice pattern.”

Hummer’s face flattened.

Lee sat forward. “Blow the sodden things off the earth.”

“If we
had time to figure out what they’re saying,” Thatcher began.

Hummer
was deep in thought. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? We don’t have time.”

“We
can’t wait around on a crap science project,” Lee said.

Hummer
cleared his throat. “Were the circumstances different, we could look into this more closely. Our focus needs to be resolving this situation.”

Thatcher stared down at the table
.

“Now is the time
for answers, not questions,” Hummer said. “Can we at least extrapolate the degree of explosion expected during the next round, Dr. Marek? Assuming they wait to explode until the next round.”

“
We are talking about multiple ruins throughout all of northern Europe. We can only hope we have 77 hours. Shit, man. We’d need to tear down every inactive passage grave, and I’d recommend destroying and somehow creating a vacuum over the active ones.”

Hummer
nodded. He already had something in mind.

Thatcher felt a lump form in her throat. “
You’re not talking about sound,” she realized.

“AVX.”
He said soberly.

“There will b
e fallout,” Thatcher said. The experimental bomb was still in its infancy.

Hummer waited
for Marek’s reply.

Marek stammered. “
We’d need everyone out of northern Scotland and the eastern seaboard of Ireland because of residual radioactive material.”

“Does anyone have a b
etter solution?” Hummer asked.

Nobody said a
word.

Hummer sat back in his
chair. “Brynne, organize the evacuation. Lee and Marek will configure the AVX. Operation Silence commences immediately.”

Chapter 54

FRIDAY 2:30 p.m.

London, England

Two men were whispering outside. It was impossible to understand what they were saying. The confining walls seemed to close in on him. They were too thick. He couldn’t discern any of the conversation. They’d been talking for at least an hour, though—razor sharp voices that provided a dizzying soundtrack to the image of the burning synagogue.

Ian
had a migraine. The blindness would only last a few hours, but the accompanying headache was agony. The inflammation inside his skull was in germinal stages. Soporific numbness spread from his tongue to the tips of his fingers.

First,
an aberrant network of fireworks would spread across his vision as if he had stared at the sun for too long. Their stupefying geometric design hid the world from his eyes. Then, he’d lose his speech, the ability to accurately form sentences or make sense of his surroundings. There was nothing he could do to stop the progression. Now that the process had started, he could only ride it out.

The synagogu
e was his last recollection. He’d been forced to his knees. The barrel of the pistol was pressed against his forehead. The next thing he knew, he was here, in the cell, in dank of underground London. The floor still reeked of excrement. It was the same chamber where Javan had kept the captive.

Ian
lay curled on the cement floor, just like the captive. He shivered.

There was no reaso
n to get up. No reason to move.

Heav
y footsteps approached the door, and the conversation outside abruptly ended. The cell door opened and hallway light flooded into the underground chamber.

Ian
stayed frozen on the ground. The pretense of unconsciousness could add minutes to his life. Footsteps entered the chamber and stopped beside him. He felt pointy dress shoes poke at his ribs.

“Do you know why you’re still alive?” Javan asked.

Ian moaned.

“Then you know what I want.”

Javan bent over him.

Ian stayed silent
.

Javan nodded to Dettorio, and the henchman stepped inside
. He kicked Ian in the stomach and sent him sprawling across the floor. It was more jarring than painful. Most of his body was numb.

Dettorio stepp
ed over him for another blow. This one to the head.

Ian sputtered, holding his face.
“David has it!”

“
Good,” Javan said. “Where does he keep it?”

“I don’t kno
w.”

Dettorio
’s foot connected with Ian’s ribs.

Ian rolled onto his back. “I don’t know!” he y
elled.

Javan lifted a hand to restrain Dettorio.

Ian coughed. “He used to wear it on a chain around his neck, but I haven’t seen him in years.”

“I appreciate your cooperation.”
Javan turned back to the door. “Make sure he gets some ice, and perhaps a more comfortable room.”

The cell door shut and the ch
amber returned to black.

Ian
clutched his ribs. He could taste the metallic flavor of blood in his mouth. He clenched his jaw and stretched out on the floor.

Once Javan found the ring, David
would certainly be dead.