would such evil threaten the world they called home. They built an unholy weapon, which with one strike decimated their enemies and—”
“A superweapon?” General Sampson raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “This isn’t a movie, Doctor. We’re dealing with reality, and there are real men—”
“The reality is that our current best hope will take years,” Julian snarled.
He looked around the room, at the people busying themselves with various tasks, some military, some civilian. A few of them looked over, and Julian grimaced. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“My apologies, General.” Julian lowered his tone, pitching his voice so only the general could hear him. “I know the importance of keeping up morale, but you and I both know that reverse-engineering the aliens’ tech is a fool’s hope. As I said, it’ll take years, and we’ll be lucky if we survive the week. The aliens don’t appear to be stupid; I’m sure they’ll target all research facilities soon enough. We need an edge.”
General Sampson nodded soberly. “You’re right, but we have to try.” He gestured with the book about the shrine, which he was still holding. “What makes you think this will give us that edge? Is this not just another fool’s hope?”
“Perhaps,” Julian acknowledged. “But we have to try anyway.”
The general gave a weak smile. “Okay, Doctor Braden, grab whatever gear you need. I’ll have whatever men I can spare meet you on the tarmac.” He handed Julian his book back and turned his attention back to the incoming reports from New York.
Pleased, Julian strode out of the room. It was about a four-hour flight to the nearest runway by the shrine. Hopefully the military could scare up a chopper to transport them and the gear they would need on site. It would be a long trip on foot given its location in the middle of a dense area of rainforest, and transporting the necessary equipment would be next to impossible. He doubted they would be able to land nearby; they would probably have to winch everything down.
Just over four hours later, they were at the shrine. The military contingent was hastily assembling a base camp. They erected a canopy to provide a small modicum of shelter for the gear, and hooked up the generator to the large industrial lights. It was before dawn, but even if the sun had been up, the lights would still have been needed.
The entire area was overgrown by the rainforest. Even though the shrine made a small clearing, the trees bent and swayed, their leaves meshing together in a thin layer above. Winching down had not been fun. One of the soldiers had gone first and set up a beacon, which had helped, but it was still a leap of faith.
The shrine was not the typical pyramid shape associated with the Aztecs. It seemed to most closely resemble a large, elaborately carved platform, which had a pedestal of sorts in the center of it. Behind the platform, there were some stone pillars that were starting to crumble and fall down. The pedestal was what interested Julian the most; it looked metallic, which was definitely out of place.
Julian pulled out the sensors and started to take readings. The first test he ran was a rough field version of carbon dating. He smiled in grim satisfaction when the test said the shrine was around two thousand years old, a lot older than anything that had belonged to the Aztecs. That proved that he was right, that there was something here worth exploring.
He wouldn’t claim to be an expert on the Aztecs; he was a real scientist, not one of those social scientists interested in history and culture. However, he knew enough to be able to recognize Aztec symbols. The platform was intricately carved, and nothing was reminiscent of Aztec design. Aside from the location, in the middle of the Mexican rainforest, there was no link to the Aztecs at all.
In the book, the author had claimed that the pedestal was otherworldly in origin. Given the other claims about
“A superweapon?” General Sampson raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “This isn’t a movie, Doctor. We’re dealing with reality, and there are real men—”
“The reality is that our current best hope will take years,” Julian snarled.
He looked around the room, at the people busying themselves with various tasks, some military, some civilian. A few of them looked over, and Julian grimaced. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“My apologies, General.” Julian lowered his tone, pitching his voice so only the general could hear him. “I know the importance of keeping up morale, but you and I both know that reverse-engineering the aliens’ tech is a fool’s hope. As I said, it’ll take years, and we’ll be lucky if we survive the week. The aliens don’t appear to be stupid; I’m sure they’ll target all research facilities soon enough. We need an edge.”
General Sampson nodded soberly. “You’re right, but we have to try.” He gestured with the book about the shrine, which he was still holding. “What makes you think this will give us that edge? Is this not just another fool’s hope?”
“Perhaps,” Julian acknowledged. “But we have to try anyway.”
The general gave a weak smile. “Okay, Doctor Braden, grab whatever gear you need. I’ll have whatever men I can spare meet you on the tarmac.” He handed Julian his book back and turned his attention back to the incoming reports from New York.
Pleased, Julian strode out of the room. It was about a four-hour flight to the nearest runway by the shrine. Hopefully the military could scare up a chopper to transport them and the gear they would need on site. It would be a long trip on foot given its location in the middle of a dense area of rainforest, and transporting the necessary equipment would be next to impossible. He doubted they would be able to land nearby; they would probably have to winch everything down.
Just over four hours later, they were at the shrine. The military contingent was hastily assembling a base camp. They erected a canopy to provide a small modicum of shelter for the gear, and hooked up the generator to the large industrial lights. It was before dawn, but even if the sun had been up, the lights would still have been needed.
The entire area was overgrown by the rainforest. Even though the shrine made a small clearing, the trees bent and swayed, their leaves meshing together in a thin layer above. Winching down had not been fun. One of the soldiers had gone first and set up a beacon, which had helped, but it was still a leap of faith.
The shrine was not the typical pyramid shape associated with the Aztecs. It seemed to most closely resemble a large, elaborately carved platform, which had a pedestal of sorts in the center of it. Behind the platform, there were some stone pillars that were starting to crumble and fall down. The pedestal was what interested Julian the most; it looked metallic, which was definitely out of place.
Julian pulled out the sensors and started to take readings. The first test he ran was a rough field version of carbon dating. He smiled in grim satisfaction when the test said the shrine was around two thousand years old, a lot older than anything that had belonged to the Aztecs. That proved that he was right, that there was something here worth exploring.
He wouldn’t claim to be an expert on the Aztecs; he was a real scientist, not one of those social scientists interested in history and culture. However, he knew enough to be able to recognize Aztec symbols. The platform was intricately carved, and nothing was reminiscent of Aztec design. Aside from the location, in the middle of the Mexican rainforest, there was no link to the Aztecs at all.
In the book, the author had claimed that the pedestal was otherworldly in origin. Given the other claims about
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