The Fifth Codex Page 3

  “Robber barons, war profiteers, sinners, and thieves the lot of you! I was not aware this was some sort of club one could buy into! This is a time and place for only the most brilliant minds, not another family scheme to plunder treasure, Rothschild.”

  As Korzhak waves his hands and points his sausages as fingers in my direction, I notice instantly the missing little finger from his left hand. But considering his harsh words, I feel no pity for him.

  “No, Victor, no – you are wrong,” a British scientist named Dr. Alistair Ravensdale chimes in as he leaps to his feet. “Pocket your prejudices, my friend! Do it now! She has more to offer this expedition on her own than do all of us combined.”

  Dr. Korzhak lets out an angered sigh and plops down into a chair.

  “Alistar is right, Victor,” Dr. Alfred Leitz adds. “Our very welcome Frau Rothschild – she is the key to our entire purpose here.”

  This dear old friend gives me a quick, welcoming hug and then walks back to his chair. Dr. Leitz does not sit in it, but instead stands behind the raised back. His handsome, near-mesmerizing baby blue eyes do their best to ensure others notice only them and not his round tummy and hairless, shiny head.

  “Without a doubt,” Alfred continues, “despite her young age, she is one of the truly great hyperpolyglots alive today! Born into a house of privilege, yes, this is true, but she has accomplished more over the last two decades than most do in a lifetime. Aside from Dr. Saddlebirch,” he points to the smug cowboy, “she possesses a talent for languages the rest of us can only dream of!”

  “It does not matter,” Korzhak protests gruffly. “I still don’t see why ––”

  “We are on the cusp of a great discovery, Victor!” the Admiral interrupts in a rude, but necessary manner. “That is why she is here. As Alfred has pointed out, Alexys Élisabeth is the key to opening a vault of discovery that just may redefine everything we currently believe of the world we live in. What we search for could even provide clues as to what our future on this planet will be.”

  As the Admiral begins to pace, those aside from me still standing now sit in their seats. “English, French, German, Mandarin, Arabic, cuneiform – am I missing anything, Granddaughter?”

  “Um … Egyptian and Mayan hieroglyphs, Linear A and Linear B … that should just about wrap it up,” I add cheerily while nodding my head. I see no need to disclose my proficiency with Latin, Sanskrit, and Italian as well.

  With barely a nod, Admiral Vanderbilt peers at the bitter Russian geologist. “Your drill having already widened the core column, are the lights, cameras, and crane ready? And for whoever goes down into it, do I have your guarantee this person will be safe?”

  “Da,” Korzhak says softly after the deepest of breaths. He speaks with a thick accent, yet is still easy to understand. “The crane – it will be ready tomorrow. No matter who goes into the hole, this person will be safe. You will see.”

  “Chance, have you anything to add?” Admiral Vanderbilt asks tersely. His angry eyes meet the lounging cowboy’s vacant ones.

  Maya script and hieroglyphs not just this man’s field – he is the field. A boy who outwitted men, Chance Saddlebirch decoded the Maya language first! I have my own talents, my own special equipment, but have never done anything like that. Dr. Saddlebirch’s work taught me all I know about Mayan texts. A life stuffed full of accomplishments beyond brilliant, his response is anything but.

  “Nada,” he replies blankly. “Something of interest in particular, can’t think of anything right now.”

  The last drawled word barely out of Chance’s mouth, Victor Korzhak stands up and bolts for the door. He stops once at the corridor leading to it and spins around. “Tomorrow morning, the crane will be ready. It will be safe.” Out of sight through the corridor and out the door, Korzhak is gone.

  A silent pause hangs over the large room for many awkward seconds as we take turns gawking at each other.

  “Half my mind suggests that could have gone better while the other half tells me it all went rather well,” I blurt out forcefully as if no longer holding my breath. “I am not sure yet which half to side with.”

  Dr. Ravensdale stands, sighs a few times, and begins to pace a bit. Victor Korzhak is a well-known geologist in the circles of his field, but many around the world know of Alistar Ravensdale. He is really a geophysicist, not a geologist, but most have not a clue as to the difference. To put into simple words the science of what makes our Earth such an amazing planet is easily his greatest gift. So great, in fact, it ensures he appears on nearly every European television show needing someone to help explain the physics of our planet. Although just a handful of years younger than the Admiral, Dr. Ravensdale is a dashingly handsome man with a witty charm to match. A full head of flowing reddish-brown hair barely grey brings out the green in his friendly eyes. To answer our questions his primary duty; his second duty – nearly as important as the first – is to keep his old friend, Dr. Korzhak, focused.

  “Victor,” Dr. Ravensdale begins, “he has led a hard life. Today, he appears as the crude, yet brilliant geologist we dearly need on this expedition, but there are more than two sides to consider, Dr. Rothschild. His wife died a while ago, his only child, a son, never speaks to him … a war that should have killed him continues to carve scars into his heart.”

  “Knowing what war can do to a man,” the Admiral adds, “I try to be patient with Dr. Korzhak. As we all have just seen, it is not so easy sometimes.”

  Alistar Ravensdale nods his head in agreement. “Please, no matter his mood, have patience with him. Show mercy for a man whose soul is much more tortured than it deserves.”

  Perhaps Dr. Ravensdale will someday tell us the story of this war and Victor Korzhak’s place in it, but not today.

  After a thoughtful sigh, I nod and force out a small smile. “It is much easier to harbor pity for someone who leaves a sweet taste in your mouth rather than a bitter one, Dr. Ravensdale. Nevertheless, I will try.”

  “We have little choice,” the Admiral says bluntly. “His massive drill – wait until you get out there, Granddaughter – it’s like nothing you have ever seen before. Inside the drilled hole, Korzhak lays down these crisscrossing fiber wires against the outer walls to help keep them frozen. He invented both the drill and this wired, icy mesh. You can say what you want about the rubbish spilling out of his mouth, but the man’s talents with a drill are priceless.”

  Another bout of silence takes hold of the CIC once more. The cowboy, how he shoots glances at me, but then looks away as I try to meet them, convinces me that he shares Dr. Korzhak’s mistrust.

  “Alistar, will you join me for lunch?” Alfred Leitz asks. “Dr. Saddlebirch, please join us as well. I think Dr. Rothschild and the good Admiral could use a little time alone.”

  The trio, who cannot be anywhere near as hungry as I am, then make their way for me. In turn, Dr. Ravensdale shakes my hand kindly with both of his, Dr. Leitz hugs me warmly once more, and Dr. Saddlebirch simply stands before me and stares. After a few seconds, he curtly tips his hat, mumbles “Ma’am,” and follows the other two out. Surprised by this, I continue to stare in the direction they departed for many seconds.

  “Saddlebirch does not trust you,” Admiral Vanderbilt says finally. “From where he hails, they mold men with better manners than that. And you can be sure I will make him well aware I noticed.”

  I say nothing in response and simply pace in a tight circle as the Admiral watches. I have more on my mind than the silly antics of a rude cowboy. Hands clasped to my front and both eyes to the floor, they wander toward his seat.

  “So, how are Maximilien and Anastasia?” he asks kindly.

  “Father is very well,” I lie with a fake smile to match. That I can easily do so bothers me every time I have to. “Mother is good too.” At least this is the truth.

  Nearly three years have passed since my father’s mind began to stray down the path that knows no beginning, no end, nor even the smoothness or roughness
of the stones it aimlessly falters upon. None would believe that the famed Colonel Maximilien Rothschild has succumbed to the fate he now suffers; in my pursuit of exhibiting good manners, I have yet to tell another. And if any ask – as I just so nimbly demonstrated – I simply lie.

  Father’s mind now forever lost has taken a good part of me with it. No matter if in the grandest of settings or the most mundane, that I can recall so many treasured memories of us together and he cannot taints them all. These recollections taunt me every time and without fail. To remember one roils my insides and angers me to the point that tears beg the Almighty to wipe it from my mind as well. I wish I could say this is not true, but then I would just be lying to myself as well. As much as for my own greedy ambitions, I will find this fifth codex in honor of his noble ones.

  After a pause, the Admiral cocks his head and then points to mine. “A new hair color! Blondish brown this time – I like it, it’s a good look. A pain to keep up I’m sure, but you are playing it smart by changing it.”

  In regards to the importance of why I am here, this casual remark takes me completely off guard. Leave it the good Admiral to notice even this.

  “I really wanted to try a bit of red,” I tell him quietly, “but I already have enough trouble keeping crazy hidden. Especially for a first impression, I am in no hurry to reveal such things.”

  “At least not yet, right?” the Admiral jokes. I smile weakly at this. “I see you have on your darkened glasses – brought your contacts too I hope.” I nod as if in a trance, and my eyes drift to the floor once again. “Good,” he continues. “Suspicion around here ready to run more naked than a streaker, make sure you keep those eyes masked as well.”

  Aside from my own parents and husband, I adore Admiral Vanderbilt most. The grandfatherly beard and little more than a ring of hair left on his head fail to take away from how sharp his trim form fits into perfectly pressed service khakis. In fact, this beard and patch of leftover hair somehow enhances his appearance. Years past the US Navy’s mandatory retirement age, his family name as much as his knowledge keeps yearly exemptions flowing. His military brilliance well known, his love for the Star Wars movies and characters is near legendary. Told by Philippe I am a linguist; in jest, he thereafter referred to me as ‘C-3P0’, the gold protocol droid. At least until I kindly reminded him that this character, although endearing, was a bit of a coward. Needless to say, he has not called me C-3P0 since.

  In the stealthy circles we both wander in, our missions often handsomely reward liars, but nearly always seek to destroy those who hang onto the truth for too long. Despite this and as far as I know, Admiral Vanderbilt has never lied to me outright. Finally, my eyes meet his light blue ones.

  “Do you think, Grandfather … do you think it is down there?” I ask in barely more than a whisper.

  As if he knows of a great secret I do not, he chuckles almost arrogantly. The good Admiral swings around to his computer and punches away at the keyboard for a few seconds before spinning back to face me. He then points at a large screen on the wall I have to turn around to view.

  “This is what awaits us.” A very clear video begins to play that shows the image captured by a camera descending the drilled ice column. It stops and hovers just over what appears to be thick, somewhat translucent ice. “And this is the image our radar drew of what is just below that ice.”

  “EST-IL POSSIBLE!” I screech as if a blissful banshee the moment the image appears onscreen. “Is this really what the radar image suggests?”

  “I believe this is it!” he howls back. He springs up and we share another hug. If not practically related, I probably would have kissed him flush on the lips right then.

  The image shows the fuzzy outline of a circle – no doubt made of some kind of metal – with five separate raised shapes equidistant from each other along its edges. An image that, in almost every way, is identical to the raised engravings atop each of the four solid gold covers that keep safe my ancient codices. There is but one difference: The five engravings atop the metallic disc are much larger than the ones on the codices.

  “Over a hundred feet of granite,” the Admiral continues, “was in the way before Korzhak drilled through and removed it. Do you see the hinges to the right? It is a vault of some kind. This is where the bronze from the ice core samples came from! Big day tomorrow … very big day! Now we just need to choose which one of your men will descend the ice column, open the vault, and retrieve what lays hidden inside it.”

  “What? Bite your tongue! I think you mean woman! No one here, not even my own soldiers, has more potholing experience. And even if I had none, I am getting that fifth codex and no one else!”

  “Alexys Élisabeth … honey,” he tries to sweet talk back at me in a slow drawl, “it is too dangerous, let someone else ––”

  “Absolutely not! That is final, and this discussion is over!”

  My favorite Star Wars fanatic lets out a defeated sigh and stares at the black carpet under our feet. With a stern, defiant pout, I watch him with slits as eyes. Leave it to the endearing Admiral to wipe this pout away and soften my stare.

  “So … um,” he peeks up and throws me a sneaky smile, “have you seen it? Have you see Episode VII yet?”

  Chapter Four

  DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

  Just when convinced it will never arrive, tomorrow becomes today. Cheated of delicious delights from the morning before, I enjoy a grand breakfast with my men. The Admiral’s confidence in what lies in wait below has emboldened me. So much so, I direct four soldiers to begin setting up my equipment as soon as our forthcoming meeting ends. My darkened glasses on as always, I enter the CIC at 0830. Others join me soon after. The time has come to discuss our approach for opening the gateway to another world we believe existed before the one we now know.

  In addition to Admiral Vanderbilt, me, and the quartet of my brilliant peers, another six Russians join us. They wear grey coveralls emblazoned with the red and black logo of Dr. Korzhak’s drilling company. I know not a one of them, yet my life will soon be in their hands. Along with Korzhak, these Russians sit on one end of the CIC while the rest of us – aside from the Admiral – sit on the other. He now paces in the open space between the two groups.

  “For nearly a week,” Admiral Vanderbilt begins, “Dr. Korzhak and his team have diligently widened the ice core. Along the entire length of the drilled column, they have also installed this wired mesh along its walls.” He untangles and then holds up an example. The mesh appears as if a snow-white spider web with two small cameras and even smaller lights woven into it. “Lights and cameras will create a good bit of heat, and these nitrogen cooled meshes will help combat this. Everything ready, all looks good as far as I can tell. As for who is going in – Alexys Élisabeth has gamely volunteered.”

  Gasped whispers and childish giggles break out from the two sides. I say nothing and simply stare at the Admiral. After a few technical questions and answers, he dismisses Korzhak and the six Russians.

  “I will stay here in the CIC and monitor everything with Dr. Saddlebirch,” Admiral Vanderbilt tells us once they depart. “Alfred and Alistar, I need you to assist Alexys Élisabeth once she has changed into her descent suit. Check oxygen levels, that the suit is tight, nothing hanging loose, basic check down. After she comes back up, anything she needs, please just help in whatever way you can. We will all be wired in, of course.” He hands each of us headpieces tuned to the same frequency. “Remember, at 1130 hours, we will meet in the red dome. No lunch! We don’t need stuffed guts getting in the way. If you have not eaten breakfast by now, hurry up and do so.” He pauses and lets out a deep breath. “Okay … see you soon.”

  With this, he bids us on our way until 1130. Upon our dismissal, my soldiers begin to transport and then unpack my equipment. I oversee them for a few minutes and then depart the CIC.

  Once in my barracks, I find my descent suit along with unneeded instructions amongst a few other things. With not a clue as wh
at to do with myself for the next couple of hours, I lie down atop my rather comfortable bed and stare upward.

  The descent suit, the barracks, the conversations, the gathered team, both the purpose and thoughts of it all – this overwhelms me. In just a few hours, I might have in my greedy hands the end of a long journey of searching. So many false finds and squashed hopes over the years – the fifth codex might soon be mine! My thankfully full tummy and dreams of what might be to comfort me; with closed eyes, I recall the one who long ago inspired this journey and the hopes that came with it….

  *****

  “Venez enfant, viens à moi [1],” my bedridden grand-mère begged of me on a late afternoon in early June nearly thirty years ago. Despite her many coughs and gasps for air, she still spoke the most beautiful French. After many years and countless attempts, I long ago gave up trying to mimic her unique accent.

  “Oui, grand-mère, je suis ici [2],” my squeaky voice replied. Grand-mère always spoke French, and Mother demanded that I as well always speak in my native tongue when in her presence.

  The day before my birthday, I was hoping for a present. Instead, Grand-mère handed me my destiny. It was, of course, the bronze key to the vault guarding the Mermaid Codex and a piece of parchment twisted around it. I stared at the curious key for a bit and then unrolled the parchment. Its words in English, I read them aloud twice before doing so in silence at least three more times.

  “Je ne comprends pas … qu’est-ce que cela signifie [3]?”

  But I would hear no more words in the sweetest French on this day or any other. Her final task fulfilled, my beloved grand-mère passed away at my side. Tears of that grand, sad day as I so vividly remember it are now silent tears rolling down my face.