Temple of Fire

Temple

of

Fire

A N O V E L

by
Christopher Forrest

Copyright © 2013 Christopher D. Forrest

Published 2013 by Christopher D. Forrest

Layout: Cheryl Perez, yourepublished.com

ALL
RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author or publisher.

Christopher Forrest has lived on a sailboat, explored Mayan ruins in the jungles of Central America, been struck by lightning, free-dived the barrier reefs off the coast of Belize, and solo-hiked through the Everglades.

He is the bestselling author of The Genesis Code,
Savage
Bay
and Bones of Angels.  Hard at work on his next Titan Six novel, Forrest lives in
Sarasota
,
Florida
, with his wife Amy and four
chihuahuas
who think they are people.

www.facebook.com/titansix

www.christopherforrest.com

The Genesis Code

Savage
Bay

Bones of Angels

Temple
of
Fire

Titan Six

For Amy.

Praise for Christopher Forrest's Thrillers
:

From New York Times bestselling author
JAMES ROLLINS
:
"Be prepared! Cutting edge science and lost history collide in a thrilling tour de force."

From
BOOKLIST
:
"[Will] keep thriller fans panting."

From New York Times bestselling author
DOUGLAS PRESTON
:
"Launches the reader into a story of science and ancient mystery that will blow your mind."

Summer Solstice

Temple of
Kalpur-az

 The young king and queen walked slowly behind High Priest
Ixmilan
, who held the sacred artifact of light in his cupped, tanned hands.  The gleaming blue crystal, housed in a polished stone reliquary, had been passed down for thousands of years in the
Nizian
culture.  The clear hexagonal crystal was eight inches long and possessed great power, though its source of magic was unknown.  Legend claimed that the sacred
Ruba-schal
had been found on the western plateau by a child practicing for the deadly game of
Cobo
Mani
.

Others said that
Ixmilan
was a shaman who had made the crystal himself.

King
Enhaht
and Queen
Qu
-lo were adorned in the traditional white robes of ceremonial purity.  The loose-fitting royal garments would be worn until the moment of coupling before the sun god,
Kalpur-az
.  The High Priest, wearing colorful robes and ceremonial headdress, was preceded by the incense bearers and temple maidens as they approached the temple.

Behind the royal procession were the citizens of the largest city of the
Nizian
Empire, the great walled fortress of
Raj
Kithune
.  The throng chanted as they swung knotted prayer ropes of hemp above their heads.  The skin of all women had been painted with a yellow paste made from ochre dust as homage to
Kalpur-az
.  It was the Day of Light.

Men wore golden bracelets and headbands, which reflected the brilliant, high sun. 
Raj
Kithune
was the capital of all
Nizian
cities on the continent, and on the Day of Light, it glowed with an almost supernatural luminescence.

Gongs were struck throughout the city: in the temples of the minor gods and goddesses; in
Enhaht’s
royal palace; atop the astronomical observatory, where priests charted the sun and moon and stars; in the granaries, which held the city’s bounty of
akal
and
kiva
— wheat and corn; along the row of step pyramids where previous rulers had begun their journey to the afterlife; and beside the clear pool of
Ashtak
, god of water, which was fed by a dozen streams from the fertile plains surrounding
Raj
Kithune
.

With great solemnity, the procession ascended the entrance to the Temple of
Kalpur-Az
.  The terraced stone edifice
rose
one hundred steps toward heaven, where
Kalpur-az
dwelled and smiled upon his dutiful servants on the green and blue earth below.  At times he allowed torrential rains to sweep across the plateau while he slept, but this was only to feed the rivers of his son,
Ashtak
.  He knew that
Ashtak
would supply water and multiply the crops.

And then
Kalpur-az
would smile again, as he was now smiling on this solemn day of the solstice.

Ixmilan
entered the mating chamber and peered at the round hole in the stone ceiling high overhead.  Soon,
Kalpur-az
would reach the proper point in the endless blue sky.

The incense bearers and temple maidens remained outside the chamber, kneeling.  They prayed that the royal rulers of their city might bear many strong sons and daughters.

The High Priest opened the reliquary and placed the blue crystal in the niche carved into the sandstone pedestal in the center of the chamber.  He then bowed from the waist and slowly backed into the ante-chamber, where he knelt with the temple maidens, his hands raised in supplication to the source of life above. 
Ixmilan
knew how sacred his obligations were.  The
Nizia
needed to thrive, develop,
evolve
.

The moment had arrived.

The sun shone through the hole at the apex of the temple, directly striking the crystal.  The crystal pulsed with energy for several seconds before filling the chamber with a pure, radiant, bluish-white light.  Even the colorful paintings of amorous couples on the walls were washed away momentarily by the brilliance of the sun’s dispersed light.

 
Enhaht
turned to his queen, who spread her arms wide, allowing her robe to fall to the floor.  The king kissed his queen sensuously on the lips and placed his strong hands on her slender, bare shoulders.

It was time to plant his seed for the harvest
Qu
-lo would yield in nine months.  No queen in
Nizia
had ever been barren thanks to the hexagonal
Ruba-schal
.

Outside, the city feasted and lived in the glory of the divine ecstasy experienced by their rulers.  Beer distilled from various grains flowed liberally from tall clay jars.  The sound of laughter combined with the flowing of the blue streams to create harmonious sounds that seemed to resonate almost as powerfully as light from the
Ruba-schal
. 

The people of
Nizia
knew their kingdom would last forever.

U.S. Petroleum Corp.,
Camp
12A

Northeaster
Nevada

 Martin
Benneker
, CEO of U.S. Petroleum Corporation, didn’t spend much time in the field.  He’d been born in
Manhattan
fifty-one years earlier, and he disdained the dust and dirt produced by the thousands of drilling sites of his company, nicknamed
U.S.
Pet.  But he made exceptions when there was an opportunity to put billions of dollars on U.S. Pet’s balance sheets.  He preferred the look of newly printed greenbacks to the sheen of shiny black oil.

He entered Trailer 3 and shook hands with Chief Geologist Ted McDonald, who was also
Benneker’s
son-in-law.  Nepotism was alive and well in the boardroom of U.S. Pet.  McDonald was on day-shift with his assistant, Charles Glenn.

Benneker
wore a stylish khaki safari outfit, complete with Indiana Jones hat, while McDonald and Glenn wore jeans and checkered shirts.  The CEO sat down in the air-conditioned trailer and was handed a cup of coffee by his son-in-law.  The trio was surrounded by a bank of computers, all scrolling data.  Printers occasionally came to life and clacked out hardcopy stats.

The trailer windows admitted a view to the scrub desert beyond.  It was a mercilessly hot day, with the temperature hovering at 110 degrees.  A distant brown mountain range cut jagged teeth into the skyline.  The terrain was flat and dry, dotted with sagebrush, snakeweed,
cheatgrass
, and an occasional
pricklypear
cactus.  Tire tracks had carved paths in the mix of sand and desert hardpan.

The
Great Basin
Desert
covered 190,000 square mile of
America
’s west.  It was bordered on the east by the majestic
Rocky Mountains
, on the west by the
Sierra Nevada
Range
.  The Columbia Plateau was its northern boundary, the Mohave and
Sonoran
deserts its southern.  It was expansive enough to cover portions of
Colorado
,
Idaho
,
Nevada
,
Oregan
,
Utah
, and
Wyoming
.  The U.S. Petroleum CEO and his employees were sitting one hundred miles northeast of
Elko
,
Nevada
, a mere stone’s throw from where the state lines of
Utah
,
Idaho
, and
Nevada
intersected.  It was a barren, dry land with no other towns than Elko within hundreds of miles of the U.S. Pet Trailers.

“It’s a hell of place to change the world,”
Benneker
remarked.

“A hell of a place to make a fortune,” said McDonald.

“It’s a hell of a place — period,” said Glenn, pouring an ounce of Jack Daniels into the cup of each man in the trailer.  “I sure wouldn’t want to land here after I die.”

The three men laughed as they looked at the
Hemmington
5600 Drill two hundred yards to the north.  A large titanium corkscrew, twenty feet long and twelve inches in diameter, hung from a black steel tripod.  It was fastened to a heavy-duty cable assembly that descended straight down into the earth’s mantle for three miles. 
A half
dozen bare-chested men walked near the site in hard hats.  They wielded enormous wrenches and other tools.

“Who would have thought that oil really was the answer to the earth’s energy crisis?”
Benneker
said, taking a long sip of coffee and bourbon.  “Here’s to the limitless supply of oil beneath our feet.”  He pushed his hat back
liesurely
, revealing a broad forehead and thinning hair.

The three men clanked their ceramic mugs together.

“Here’s to
abiogenic
petroleum!” McDonald said.

Benneker
let out a loud belly laugh.  “The Department of Energy thought we were crazy when we requested a permit to start drilling here!  Even the environmentalists didn’t care if we placed a few
Hemmington
screws in the middle of nowhere.”

“Maybe the mountain lions and deer will picket us,” said Glenn.

The men broke into a fresh round of laughter.

A rumble spread across the desert floor, rocking the three men gently in their chairs.

“Probably another mini-quake out in
California
,” Glenn said.  “The San Andreas has been burping over the last month.”

“That’s not from one of the screws?”
Benneker
asked.

“Nah,” said McDonald.  “There’s a screw down there now, but . .
. ”
  He glanced at one of the computer screens.  “She’s humming along at 500 rpm’s, as sweet and smooth as can be.”

The trailer rocked from side to side, throwing
Benneker
and Glenn from their chairs.  Outside, the drillers were running from the tripod.

“I’ll check our seismology office down in Vegas,” McDonald said, concern now creasing his forehead.

Cracks appeared in the desert crust, sending hardhats scrambling for their pickups.  Steam rose from the drilling hole, and
two aluminum storage
sheds next to the trailer complex collapsed.

“What the hell is going on?”
Benneker
cried, his coffee spattering against a map on the wall as the trailer tipped thirty degrees.

The ground shook violently.  Black smoke poured from the well, accompanied by a heavy shower of dust and rocks.  A large boulder shattered the glass window of the trailer.

“I don’t care what the hell is going on!” Glenn yelled.  “I’m getting out of here.”

The three men bumped into each other as they tried to crowd through the narrow door simultaneously, looking almost slapstick in their attempt to retreat from the trailer, which was lurching from side to side like a bronco.

Benneker
was the first man out, rushing for his $80,000 SUV.  A seam split the desert floor in two, swallowing the CEO.

The trailer rattled, its left side sinking into a newly-formed crevice.

“Holy shit!” cried Glenn.  “Did you see that?”

“Haul your ass!” said McDonald.

The two men were thrown to the ground.  Behind them, the tripod and titanium corkscrew toppled onto the hot sand as the desert erupted in a violent explosion.  Gas poured from the drilling site and erupted into an orange fireball extending a half mile into the washed-out sky.

What followed next was an event no geologist had ever witnessed.

The ground began to collapse in every direction around the site.  An implosion was taking place, with the earth literally swallowing desert, machinery, trucks, storage sheds, and trailers.  Fault lines spread like spider veins as the ground sloped at a steeper and steeper angle.  Sand had grown so hot that it was melting into a conglomerate of silicon and glass.

Then
came
a final peal of thunder as the process reversed itself, the desert exploding for a second time in a haze of dust, gas, flames, and boulders both large and small.  Five minutes later, a crater almost two miles in diameter had formed.  There was no sign that human life had ever been present in the desolate region.

A blast of heat spread outwards from the crater, scorching the sagebrush.  An observer might have surmised that the desert had been impacted by a meteor, assuming an observer could have viewed the site with any clarity.

A cloud of smoke and dust hung in the sky, turning the air yellowish-brown.

For the time being, the
Hemmington
5600 would not be making a fortune for U.S. Pet.