To Albert Taylor for showing me warriors can dance. RIP
And my family Ken, Alexis,
Olivia, Delfina, Johanna, Kimberly & Isaiah
C. Taylor-Butler
To Mina, Silas and Petey. They are the best of me.
Patrick Arrasmith
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All rights reserved. Published by Move Books LLC.
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Text copyright 2016 by C. Taylor-Butler
Illustration copyright by Patrick Arrasmith
Book design by Virginia Pope
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016915085
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 11 12 13 14 15 16
Printed in the U.S.A.
First edition, November 2016
P.O. Box 183
Beacon Falls, Connecticut, 06403
Contents
PROLOGUE
Great Sphinx of Giza
EPILOGUE
Changing of the Guard
PROLOGUE
Great Sphinx of Giza
29.9753 N, 31.1378 E
Enter those who have proven worthy.
Deep beneath the Sphinx, Kurosh glanced at the hieroglyphics carved thousands of years before by ancient ancestors. After years of research the teams were no closer to opening the Hall of Records. Soon the work might all be in vain.
His device vibrated to indicate an incoming transmission. He laid it on the white altar and answered. I have the formulas you requested.
Indeed, said a male voice, the words curling out of the device like smoke. That is welcome news.
I propose an exchange, said Kurosh. The coordinates and precise frequencies.
A sigh erupted. Unfortunately, the target has been elusive.
Kurosh narrowed his eyes and gestured for his lead warrior to join him. Kavera walked toward the altar, careful not to step on the shallow troughs that cut through the stone floor and terminated at eight towering canopic jars. The once dormant channels pulsed with electromagnetic activity. Static electricity crackled in the air yet barely registered on their scanners.
SOSUS detected the whales unique signature, Kurosh continued.
At 52 hertz in the Earth year 1989. That may not be the frequency now. One can only hope it is immortal.
There are those who think WE are immortal.
Would that it were so. I would like to offer my condolences on the loss of your brother and his wife.
Kurosh twisted the strands of his white prayer beads into a figure eight, then let them unwind again. And for yours. May their souls nourish the universe and watch over us.
Thank you, old friend, said the voice. I look forward to our meeting tomorrow.
Kurosh logged out and studied the sparks flashing inside the canopic jars. The children are never to enter this room.
Understood. But may I speak freely, Jemadari? Kavera asked.
Permission to speak has never been an issue,
It concerns the children. Whatever destroyed their home and breached our facility remains a threat.
And your point is? Kurosh opened a small box and slipped a device into a gap in the cloth lining. It was no wider than the threads themselves and easily hidden by the vials of liquid contained inside.
You risk their safety and the mission by removing them from the Harbor.
It poses a greater risk for them to remain here while security protocols are reinforced.
They are worried about their parents. Perhaps if we assigned more teams
That is not possible. Completing the mission will take every remaining resource, Kurosh said.
And the children?
Will adjust to their new reality.
Jemadari! Kavera paused and softened his voice. Kurosh. You will be unprotected. A triad can
Kuroshs eyes narrowed. The matter is settled. You have your orders.
Kavera hesitated, wanting to question the wisdom of taking five unseasoned children to a meeting with their most frightening ally, but before he could protest his commander, a man the children referred to as Uncle Henry cut him off.
There is no one I trust with this task more than you, Kavera. Consult with Aurelia, then assemble a team and find my brother. Volari and I can protect the children.
Kavera frowned and nodded. Akoosh sakur, sha ka don fur.
Askar, Kurosh replied. Confirmed.
It Begins
Wouldst thou, so the helmsman answered,
know the secret of the sea?
Only those who brave its dangers,
Comprehend its mystery.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
CHAPTER ONE
The Triangle
Bermuda Triangle
26.38695 N, 69.395142 W
Ben stood on the bow of the 138-foot Brigantine yacht, the wind clawing at his many layers of borrowed clothing. He could barely hear himself think over the sound of the pounding surf and his own chattering teeth. Last night, the twin-masted research vessel set off in calm Caribbean waters as dolphins raced beside them. Now there were no other signs of life beyond the perimeter of the hull. Even the seagulls had abandoned them.
The storm intensified sending Carlos, Serise, Grace and April scrambling into the cabin for safety. Ben felt his uncles hand on his shoulder, restraining him as he tried to join them.
Stay, Uncle Henry commanded, steering the ship towards some unknown destination.
Ben stared at his friends, their eyes wide in horror, and tried to process the situation. It had been two days since their parents had sent them to safety at the Harbor outpost after their homes had been attacked. Only a day since finding out the truth theyd been hiding. That none of them were human. At least by Earth standards. And now they were traveling alone with the scariest person on the planet, his own uncle. What about the concept of safety did his uncle miss in the memo?
Volari, the deep-sea intelligence agent, emerged from the cabin, his webbed feet slapping the deck as he walked to the starboard side of the ship. He placed a diamond-shaped box on the railing then aimed a trident at the sky. It was instantly hit by a bolt of lightning. Volari pointed the staff towards the Atlantic Ocean, discharged the electrical energy then started over. Each impulse grew in intensity as did the waves.
The ship banked right and steered into the wind, its eighty-foot masts creaking and groaning as the sails tugged against their rigging. Even so, the ship, which had been traveling at twice its rating of nine knots, picked up speed, cutting effortlessly through the angry surf. Ben squinted. The sails should have billowed towards the bow of the boatin the direction of the winds gusts. Instead they pushed towards the stern.
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