The Cydonia Objective (Morpheus Initiative 03) by David Sakmyster
Authors: David Sakmyster
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look a bit like your father, but those green eyes of yours—all Nina."
"Well, Xavier…" said a voice he had heard many times, but only in visions. In dark, smoke-filled rooms, and once on a massive glacier under the midnight sky, observing the Northern Lights over a sleeping radar facility.
"This time in the flesh." Mason Calderon leaned forward, both hands on his cane. His skin was lustrous, shining in the lights as if he'd applied a liberal dose of makeup before a stage performance. His eyes were hooded but sharp, moving rapidly, taking in everything about his captive. Thin white hair was slicked back from his high forehead, except for a lone curved strand that fell across his face like a scimitar blade.
Montross stood up straight. "Well, you got me. Not too much effort for you, I hope. But, sorry to say, I'm all you're getting. The other birds have flown the coop."
One of the boys moved around so he could stand by his brother. They both glared up at Montross with an oddly similar glints in their eyes. One had slightly finer hair, more chestnut than his brother's walnut-colored tangle of curls. "We can still get them, father."
"No Jacob," Calderon replied. "Not without trusting this man here to guide us."
"We can do it," the other boy insisted.
"We can see as well as he can."
Montross gave a little chuckle, but he had to admire the kids' guts. Definitely a potent mix of their parents' qualities.
Calderon shook his head. "Sorry boys. Besides, I believe Montross here did what he set out to do. He bought Caleb and Alexander time to head back and get out the main entrance, hoping to fool us here." He smirked. "Good thing Nina will be there, waiting."
Montross shrugged. "Maybe they're not coming out. Lots to do down there. While traipsing through history's looking glass, I saw all kinds of ceremonies, people living for years in those ventilated chambers, tunnels that connected to faraway exits, ports along the Nile and farther."
Calderon sighed. "And I doubt I even need to ask, but I assume you do not have the keys on you?"
Montross laughed. "Wishful thinking, but of course not." He nodded over his shoulder. "They're back in there."
Calderon cocked his head, and Montross knew the man was weighing his words, deciding how much stock to put in Montross' answer. But at this point, he didn't care.
Montross took a deep breath. "So, Senator Calderon. You've got the Emerald Tablet. Or at least, my former associate does. And you believe she's now in your employ because of these…" Montross raised his chin toward the defiant boys, who were glaring at him with twin looks of menace. "…these lovely angels. But you don't have the translation. Nor the keys to get into that box."
"We will, soon." Calderon twirled the cane in his fingers, tracing the golden scales of the dragon, letting his index finger glide across the length of the spear thrust through its skull. "Although it's not essential. From what you've just shown us, you've confirmed that proximity to the Emerald Tablet alone can get me what I need."
"Yeah," Montross said, "but my mind's better tuned toward it, or am I wrong and you're actually a psychic yourself?"
Calderon flinched. His eyes narrowed. The twins looked at each other.
Isaac grunted. "But we are, aren't we 'Dad'?"
"Righto," Jacob chimed in. "We can do it, can't we? Give us the tablet-thing. We'll show you."
"Boys, don't get ahead of yourselves." Calderon never took his eyes off of Montross. "You may be right, Xavier. Which is why Nina will soon have these boys in that chamber. We'll get the box, then go after Caleb and Alexander. There's no way for them to escape, we'll find them and those keys. Once the translation is in my possession and the Tablet's secrets are mine, I'm certain that I will be able to duplicate your abilities. And much more. Its arcane instructions, I'm told, will fully reactivate what time and evolution have blocked." He fondled the dragon's wings, then smiled.
"Well, Xavier…" said a voice he had heard many times, but only in visions. In dark, smoke-filled rooms, and once on a massive glacier under the midnight sky, observing the Northern Lights over a sleeping radar facility.
"This time in the flesh." Mason Calderon leaned forward, both hands on his cane. His skin was lustrous, shining in the lights as if he'd applied a liberal dose of makeup before a stage performance. His eyes were hooded but sharp, moving rapidly, taking in everything about his captive. Thin white hair was slicked back from his high forehead, except for a lone curved strand that fell across his face like a scimitar blade.
Montross stood up straight. "Well, you got me. Not too much effort for you, I hope. But, sorry to say, I'm all you're getting. The other birds have flown the coop."
One of the boys moved around so he could stand by his brother. They both glared up at Montross with an oddly similar glints in their eyes. One had slightly finer hair, more chestnut than his brother's walnut-colored tangle of curls. "We can still get them, father."
"No Jacob," Calderon replied. "Not without trusting this man here to guide us."
"We can do it," the other boy insisted.
"We can see as well as he can."
Montross gave a little chuckle, but he had to admire the kids' guts. Definitely a potent mix of their parents' qualities.
Calderon shook his head. "Sorry boys. Besides, I believe Montross here did what he set out to do. He bought Caleb and Alexander time to head back and get out the main entrance, hoping to fool us here." He smirked. "Good thing Nina will be there, waiting."
Montross shrugged. "Maybe they're not coming out. Lots to do down there. While traipsing through history's looking glass, I saw all kinds of ceremonies, people living for years in those ventilated chambers, tunnels that connected to faraway exits, ports along the Nile and farther."
Calderon sighed. "And I doubt I even need to ask, but I assume you do not have the keys on you?"
Montross laughed. "Wishful thinking, but of course not." He nodded over his shoulder. "They're back in there."
Calderon cocked his head, and Montross knew the man was weighing his words, deciding how much stock to put in Montross' answer. But at this point, he didn't care.
Montross took a deep breath. "So, Senator Calderon. You've got the Emerald Tablet. Or at least, my former associate does. And you believe she's now in your employ because of these…" Montross raised his chin toward the defiant boys, who were glaring at him with twin looks of menace. "…these lovely angels. But you don't have the translation. Nor the keys to get into that box."
"We will, soon." Calderon twirled the cane in his fingers, tracing the golden scales of the dragon, letting his index finger glide across the length of the spear thrust through its skull. "Although it's not essential. From what you've just shown us, you've confirmed that proximity to the Emerald Tablet alone can get me what I need."
"Yeah," Montross said, "but my mind's better tuned toward it, or am I wrong and you're actually a psychic yourself?"
Calderon flinched. His eyes narrowed. The twins looked at each other.
Isaac grunted. "But we are, aren't we 'Dad'?"
"Righto," Jacob chimed in. "We can do it, can't we? Give us the tablet-thing. We'll show you."
"Boys, don't get ahead of yourselves." Calderon never took his eyes off of Montross. "You may be right, Xavier. Which is why Nina will soon have these boys in that chamber. We'll get the box, then go after Caleb and Alexander. There's no way for them to escape, we'll find them and those keys. Once the translation is in my possession and the Tablet's secrets are mine, I'm certain that I will be able to duplicate your abilities. And much more. Its arcane instructions, I'm told, will fully reactivate what time and evolution have blocked." He fondled the dragon's wings, then smiled.
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