Oracle (2 page)

As far as Paul Dorion was concerned, that was a lot more impressive than walking on water. And it all happened right here, right where he was standing.

A bemused voice snapped him out of his reverie. “Are you going to do any work today? Or should I just leave you to your gawking?”

Paul felt a twinge of irritation as he turned to look at his co-worker and fellow researcher Lauren Hayes. She was smiling, but that was not necessarily a good indicator of the intention behind her words. He could never tell when Lauren was joking. Maybe it was some inherent cultural incompatibility—he was French and she was from London—or maybe it was something even more fundamental. Regardless of the explanation, his track record for judging her moods was a record of failure that verged on being statistically impossible. When he took her seriously, she would tell him to lighten up; when he thought she was joking, she would throw up her hands in exasperation. Even when he second-guessed himself, he was always wrong. It was enough to make him wonder if her ambiguity was intentional.

“Sorry,” he said, offering no explanation.

Lauren was an attractive
women by any measure, and among the predominately male community of scientists and technicians at CERN, was frequently the object of libidinous desire. Perhaps that, more than anything, contributed to Paul’s inability to read her. Despite the romantic reputation of his countrymen, he had a mixed track record with women, and his uncertainty sometimes came across as aloofness. With respect to Lauren and the fact that they had to work together every day, this was probably a safeguard; better to maintain a professional distance.

“
I’ll start at the top” he told her, still avoiding her gaze.

She laughed.
“That’s what a girl likes to hear.”

What does that mean?
Paul shook his head and started up the stairs to the top of the detector while Lauren moved to the base of the enormous ring-shaped barrel and began her inspection.

The CMS was designed to make observations across a wide spectrum of activity, but Paul
’s work—and Lauren’s as well—focused on the detection of muons, large but short-lived elementary particles that decayed to produce electrons and neutrinos. Like all subatomic particles, much of what was known about muons was theoretical, but knowledge of their existence dated back to the 1930s. Muons could pass through matter without interacting with it, which made them ideal for “seeing” through solid objects. The muons created by particle collisions in the LHC were measured using a three-fold system of detection situated in the outermost layer of the CMS, and now that the collider was offline for maintenance, Paul’s task was to check the detectors and replace the units as needed. It was a time-consuming chore, but necessary to the larger goal of producing useful results, and if working at CERN had taught Paul anything, it was the importance of patience. Physics experiments required years of intensive preparation and observation.

At the top of the stairs, he moved out onto
a scaffold erected across the top of the barrel. The tedious but exacting job of removing the endcap disks to get at the cathode strip chambers helped him get his mind off the perplexing riddle of Lauren Hayes, and he was soon lost in his work.

“
Paul!”

The shout startled him, kicking him out of autopilot mode. He looked over the edge of the scaffold to see Lauren, gazing up at
him, hands on hips in what might have been either a stern or flirtatious pose. “Yes?”

“
I said, do you want to break for coffee?”

“
Coffee? So soon? We just got started.”

She rolled her eyes.
“It’s nearly eleven.”

Eleven o
’clock? He really had gotten lost in the work. “Sure. Be right down.”

He set down his tools and hopped to his feet, but suddenly felt lightheaded. Darkness descended on him like a storm cloud and he barely had time to kneel down before the world dissolved completely in a haze.

Head rush
.
I stood up too quickly.

He stayed down, waiting for his blood pressure to normalize, but with each passing second, his connection to reality seemed to slip further away. He had no sense of his body anymore, didn
’t know if he was still kneeling or if he had collapsed in a senseless heap.

Then, just as quickly, he was drawn back to consciousness by someone shaking him gently, calling his name.
“Paul? Paul are you all right?”

The voice was achingly familiar. It sounded just like….

He opened his eyes and jerked as if touching a live wire.

Lauren? It was Lauren, but how could that be?

Her face creased with concern. “Paul, are you all right?” she repeated. “You fainted.”

It couldn
’t be Lauren. Lauren was dead. She had died in a mountain climbing accident two weeks earlier. He had attended her funeral, for God’s sake. He had stood in front of the urn with her ashes. He had….

The memories were so vivid
that it took a moment to separate them from the reality of where he was.

I am in the CMS,
he realized.
Lauren and I came down here to check the detectors. But that was weeks ago, wasn’t it? Before the accident? Before the funeral?

He took a deep breath.
No, none of that happened. I passed out, I had a weird dream. In a moment, everything will be back to normal.

“
I’m fine,” he managed to say. “Just stood up too fast.”

Lauren continued to look down at him, one hand resting on his shoulder. Her touch felt strange, and not just because it was the first time she had ever touched him, ever showed something approaching actual concern.

He felt as if he was being touched by a ghost.

“
I’m fine,” he repeated, shrugging away from her and rising to his feet.

“
Careful,” she warned. “Don’t get up too fast or it will happen again.”

“
No. I’m all right now.” He did his best to smile. “Let’s go have that coffee.”

“
You’re sure?” She continued to regard him anxiously. “You need to be more careful. You could have fallen.”

“
It’s not that far to the bottom.”

“
It’s far enough. Did you know that falling is the second leading cause of accidental death?”

The word
“death” sent a chill through him. “How do you know that?”

“
I’ve done my homework. I’m a mountain climber.” She gave a coy shrug. “Well, almost. I haven’t actually climbed any mountains. Yet. But I’m going to climb Chamonix this weekend.”

Chamonix.
Paul felt the darkness start to swirl again. He lurched for the stairs, gripped the rail.

Chamonix.
That was where Lauren had died in his…memory? Dream? Premonition?

He held himself erect, struggling to catch his breath.
“Lauren, don’t go to Chamonix.”

Her concern transformed into something approaching umbrage.
“What?”

“
Mountain climbing is dangerous. Don’t go.”

“Gods, not you too. You sound like my mum.” She pursed her lips together and shook her head. “In case you haven’t been paying attention, you’re the one who’s having trouble with high places.”

“
I know. It’s just that—”

She waved her hand, cutting him off.
“I’m going for a coffee. You can do whatever you like.” She spun on her heel and stomped down the stairs, not looking back.

As he watched her depart, Paul wondered what had prompted his outburst. His certitude about the realness of what he remembered had not diminished, but belief alone was not enough to make it real. He was a rational being, believing only in what he could observe and measure and quantify. Whatever else it was, his perception of Lauren
’s death was not real if only for the simple reason that she was still alive.

A premonition then?

Paul did not believe in premonitions. Fortune telling and psychic mumbo-jumbo was just trickery.

Still, why would I imagine Lauren dying in a climbing accident when I had no idea that she was even interested in mountaineering?

It was a coincidence. It had to be. There was no other rational explanation.

Nevertheless, as the week passed, his dread of what might happen increased. It was not merely the ominous expectation of what might happen to Lauren. For her sake, he certainly hoped that the foreseen calamity would not occur, but the reason for his anxiety went much deeper.

If something did happen to Lauren at Chamonix—if what he had imagined or envisioned or…pre-remembered really did come to pass, what would that mean for his understanding of the world?

Everything had a rational explanation. That was not merely an article of faith for him; he had seen it proven true, again and again. Were there things that science did not understand?
Absolutely. But to catch a glimpse of the future? How was that possible? How could he explain it in a way that squared with his knowledge of the universe and space-time and causal relationships?

And why had it happened to him?

If something happened to Lauren, would he be able to explain it away as a coincidence?

And if nothing happened, what then?

Teotihuacan, Mexico—Present Day

This is why
I love being an archaeologist,
thought Jade Ihara as she stared across
Calzada de los Meurtos
—the Avenue of the Dead—at the massive structure, known as the Pyramid of the Sun. Because she had spent so much of her professional career digging holes in the middle of nowhere, sifting dirt and, if she was lucky, finding a potsherd or two, she welcomed any chance to work a site like this, a place full of both history and mystery. It was a way of recharging her batteries.
Lord knows, I could use that right now.

The invitation to join an ongoing investigation at the Pyramid of the Sun could not have come at a better time for her, both professionally and personally. It was a chance to get back to her roots, at least in terms of her career as an archaeologist specializing in Pre-Columbian American cultures.

Despite being one of the largest and most thoroughly studied sites on earth, very little was known about the origins of Teotihuacan and the people who first lived there. Even the names given to the city and its monumental pyramids were the product of later inhabitants. Teotihuacan was a Nahuatl word that meant “City of the Gods” and was the name given the place by the Aztecs who discovered and occupied it half a millennium after it had been abandoned by its builders. No one knew where the Teotihuacanos came from, why they built massive monuments—the Pyramid of the Sun was the third largest pyramid in the world—or why they disappeared. The chance to solve that enduring mystery, or at the very least, shed some light on it, was one of the main reasons Jade had jumped at the chance to join the dig.

She strode across the broad north-south thoroughfare where Aztec priests had once paraded sacrificial
victims before throngs of bloodthirsty citizens, and ascended to the Plaza del Sol, the courtyard that abutted the western edge of the pyramid. Up close, Jade could see the individual stones that comprised the pyramid. Unlike the pyramids of Egypt, these structures had been built with small irregular chunks of rock, sealed together with limestone mortar. Jade knew that, in its heyday, the pyramid had been coated with a limestone veneer and painted with elaborate murals of feathered gods, priests and victorious warriors. The construction of the pyramids had been a massive undertaking, requiring centuries of focused cooperative effort, and had placed an extraordinary drain on the natural resources of the region. The deforestation of the surrounding landscape to fire limestone kilns was believed to be a major contributing factor to the decline of the city, but that was just one more theory that, while plausible, would never fully be proven.

“
Dr. Ihara!”

Jade lowered her gaze from the pyramid to find a middle-aged man in khakis and a dress shirt, with a canvas duffel bag slung over one shoulder. She stepped forward and took his proffered hand.
“You must be Dr. Acosta,” she said.

Jorge Acosta, a professor of Pre-Columbian art history, presently serving as curator in residence at the on-site museum, was the project coordinator, and the man who had hired her on after a team member had been called away by a family emergency. The excavation at the Pyramid of the Sun was only one of many archaeological investigations going on in the ancient city, and it was Acosta
’s job to ensure that the cultural sanctity of the site was preserved, and all relevant laws obeyed.

“Welcome to Teo, Dr. Ihara.” His English was impeccable, without even a trace of an accent. “I imagine you’re eager to get right to work.”

“
Please, call me Jade.” His smile slipped a notch and Jade realized that she had committed a minor
faux pas.

Smooth move,
Jade,
she thought.
Somebody loves his title. This is why I hate being an archaeologist.

At least when digging holes in the middle of nowhere, she didn
’t have to deal with the fragile egos of academicians.

“I of course will continue to call you Dr. Acosta,” she hastily added, smiling and doing her level best to keep her tone free of sarcasm.

Acosta diplomatically changed the subject.
“We were quite fortunate that you were available on such short notice.”

“
Actually, I’m the one who got lucky. I just finished some work in Japan and was looking for…” She paused, not sure quite what she meant to say. Something different? Something to keep me busy? Something to take my mind off
him
? “A challenge.”

“
Japan? That’s a rather strange place for an expert on early American cultures to be working.”

“
You’re telling me,” Jade muttered.  Her work in Japan, specifically at the Yonaguni monument near Okinawa, had been a roller coaster of excitement—for which she had a healthy appetite—and drama—something she had lost her taste for. Her research had been pivotal in battling a threat from the international quasi-religious conspiracy known as the Dominion, ultimately making the difference in thwarting a Dominion plot to throw the world into chaos. Unfortunately, it had also meant working with her ex,  Dane Maddock, a former Navy SEAL and professional treasure hunter. Maddock had moved on with his life and that made working with him—working closely with him—almost unendurable for Jade. She had made herself vulnerable, put her undiminished love for him out in the open, and he had ultimately refused her.

The rejection burned like an open wound, and the only way to get past it was to get away from anything that reminded her of Dane Maddock. It was time for her to get on with her life.

She sensed that Acosta was still waiting for an explanation. “The circumstances were unique. I speak the language fluently and I do have a background in Asian studies. Besides, no matter where you go, the principles of archaeology are the same, right?”

Acosta made a humming sound that could have indicated anything from disinterested agreement to mild disapproval.
“Well, follow me and I’ll introduce you to the team.”

He turned and led her along the perimeter of the pyramid, to a dark opening that appeared to lead right into the heart of the massive structure. Jade was
somewhat surprised when, instead of heading into the passage, Acosta continued a few steps past the tunnel mouth and bent over a metal plate, flush with the sloping ground. The plate reminded Jade of the entrance to a basement, and she was not at all surprised when Acosta lifted the plate, revealing another opening that plunged straight down.

“
I think I’d rather see what’s behind door number one.”

Acosta gave a polite chuckle.
“That passage,” he said, indicating the first opening, “was dug by archaeologists. It doesn’t really go anywhere. This shaft that we’re using is the only passage we’ve discovered into the interior of the pyramid that was actually used by the Teotihuacanos.” He paused. “Or at least that was the case until a few days ago.”

“
What do you mean by that?”

“
You’ll see.” Acosta took a pair of hard hats and two flashlights from his duffel, and passed one of each to Jade. When they had both donned their helmets, Acosta stepped down into the opening and began descending a steep metal staircase into the darkness.

Jade followed closely, playing the beam of her light on the surrounding walls. After the initial descent, the slope of the passage eased, but the sense of confinement incre
ased dramatically. The air was warm and stale.

“
This was a lava tube,” Acosta explained, his voice sounding muffled in the close quarters. “The builders removed the softer volcanic rock in order to reach the chamber under the center of the pyramid.”

Jade noted that, while they were continuing to descend, the passage
snaked back and forth, following a course laid by natural forces millions of years ago. “Why?”

“
I’m afraid we don’t know that, any more than we know why they built the pyramid in the first place. The chamber probably represents the Underworld, but until we can learn more about the religious practices and cosmology of Teotihuacan, we’re just guessing. Ah, here we are.”

The passage abruptly widened and Jade saw that a small tent-like structure had been erected right in the middle of the path. The door was thrown back, and two people stood inside, hunched over a laptop computer.

Acosta tapped lightly on the side of the structure. “Drs. Sanchez and Dorion, may I introduce your new colleague, Dr. Ihara?”

Jade quickly took stock of the two men that turned to greet her. One was short and stocky with a dark complexion and an infectious smile, the other average height and slender, with a mop of wavy brown hair framing a pale, studious face. The first man—presumably Sanchez—stepped forward quickly and began pumping Jade
’s hand. “Dr. Ihara, so good to finally meet you. We’ve heard wonderful things.”

Jade returned the smile, wondering exactly what
“wonderful things” the man had heard, and who said them.
Probably just being polite,
she decided. “Thank you. It’s good to be here.”

She realized that the other man—Dorion—was staring at her like she was a supermodel.
“I’ve seen you before.”

Jade noted the accent—
French, she decided. Not Paris, though. Somewhere in the countryside
—but it was the way he spoke, with an almost reverential awe, that made her feel very uncomfortable. Before she could respond, he added. “It was in a dream, I think.”

Sanchez bellowed out laughter.
“Paul is such a charmer. Watch out for him, Dr. Ihara.”

Jade didn
’t feel the least bit charmed. She glanced at Acosta, still aware of Dorion’s scrutiny, then addressed Sanchez. “Please, call me Jade. It will save time.”

“
Jade it is. A lovely name. You know that jade was extremely precious to the early inhabitants of Mesoamerica. Oh, but look who I’m talking to. Of course you know that.” He clapped his hands together. “I’m Noe. This is Paul.”

“
Dr. Dorion is our resident muon tomographer,” explained Acosta. “He’s the one who is making it possible for us to see through the walls of the pyramid.”

“
Muon tomographer?” Jade asked. She actually knew a little about the process, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to hear it explained by an expert.

“
Muons are high-speed elementary particles found in cosmic rays.” With the shift to Dorion’s area of expertise, his voice lost some of its creepy undertone. “We are constantly bombarded by them on the surface, but they are unable to penetrate down here—one hundred meters underground. At least, this is the case where the pyramid is solid. Where there are gaps—tunnels and chambers—the muons can pass through and reach the detector.”

“
Like an X-ray machine?”

“
Exactly. Only subatomic particles can penetrate much deeper than X-rays.”

“
It’s working, too,” added Sanchez. “Paul, show her what we’ve found.”

Dorion stepped back inside the enclosure and bent over the computer, tapping out a few quick commands. The lines of text on the screen were replaced by a blue screen with blossoms of yellow and orange that reminded Jade of a Magic-Eye photo. Dorion continued to manipulate the image and J
ade saw the largest blossom begin moving vertically down the screen.

“
What am I looking at here?”

“
Particle frequency is abnormally high in the quadrant we’ve been monitoring.”

Sanchez pointed into the chamber just past the enclosure.
“There’s a passage just behind that wall.”

“
We think there’s a passage,” amended Acosta.

“
The data are consistent with there being a hollow space in the pyramid,” Dorion said.

“
But that’s not the best part,” Sanchez went on, with child-like enthusiasm. “Paul, show her the model.”

Dorion tapped a few more keys and the blue screen vanished, replaced instead by a transparent three-dimensional representation of the pyramid. The chamber in which they now stood and the tunnel leading to it appeared as a pale red artery, ending in four-headed bulb directly below the apex, while a blue vein snaked a vertical course to a smaller cavity directly above them.

Sanchez pointed an eager finger at the picture. “The passage doesn’t extend to the exterior. It’s probably been sealed since the time of the pyramid’s construction.”

Jade grasped the reason for Sanchez
’s enthusiasm. A sealed chamber might offer an unprecedented glimpse into the origins of Teotihuacan and its inhabitants. “Why a vertical shaft going nowhere?”

“
A sacred well?” Acosta speculated. “If this is a tomb, it might well represent a passage to the Underworld. Or it may be some part of the original inhabitants’ belief system that we have never seen before. That’s what we hope to learn when we explore the chamber.”

“
When can we enter the chamber?”

“
We have to proceed carefully,” Acosta went on. “We are dedicated to minimizing the impact to the site, but of course when word of this gets out, it will become difficult to protect whatever treasures—in the archaeological sense—may lie within. Our plan is to dig a small intersecting shaft, just large enough to insert a robotic vehicle. I’d like you to take care of excavation, Dr. Ihara, but remember, we only want to get a look at what’s in there. We won’t be taking anything out.”