“So I guess they were great at basketball,” said Chase.
Sophia waved dust from her face. “Some African tribes are very tall. Maybe these people were their ancestors.”
“We’ll find out in a second,” said Nina. “If someone’s got a knife, that is?”
Chase produced a penknife and snicked open the largest blade before handing it to her. Hesitantly, she reached down, the blade’s tip hovering just above the cloth as Chase held the flashlight. “Let’s find out what the big secret is.”
She made the first cut.
The blade slipped easily through the shroud as she carefully moved it in a sawing motion down the figure’s chest. Once she had opened it to roughly waist level, she moved back to where she’d started and began cutting upward, slicing more delicately along the long neck and around the side of the head to the top of the skull.
She pocketed the knife and took hold of the edge of the cloth. Very slowly, very carefully, she lifted it away, gradually peeling the covering off the corpse’s face to reveal …
“Oh, God,” she said in a quiet voice, her free hand flying to her mouth as she saw the exposed features.
They were not human.
THIRTY-SEVEN
I told you,” said Chase, somewhere between shock and vindication. “I fucking told you they were aliens!”
The skull was close to human—two eyes, a nasal cavity, a mouth with a few small teeth still remaining—but nevertheless different enough for it to be instantly obvious that the creature was not a member of the species Homo sapiens … and also to be somehow disturbing. The forehead was higher, the top of the skull noticeably larger than any human’s, while the lower jaw was narrower and more protruding. The nasal cavity was longer and thinner. The eye sockets, empty but for desiccated shreds of tissue, were higher on the face and distinctly almond-shaped, slanting upward. Nina had no choice but to admit that it looked like the popular image of a “Gray” alien, the black-eyed, expressionless face of otherworldly life from over half a century of UFO mythology.
But she knew this was no extraterrestrial.
“For the last time, Eddie, they’re not aliens,” she said, taking back the flashlight and holding it closer to the ancient corpse.
“You’re kidding, right?” he said in disbelief. “I mean, look at it!”
“I am looking at it. And what I see evolved right here on earth. It’s just that … it evolved before humans did.”
“A different species?” Sophia asked.
“Exactly. A species that was related to humans, just as humans are related to Homo rhodesiensis or Homo neanderthalensis. But they weren’t humans. They’d established a civilization at a time when Homo sapiens had only just evolved into its current form. They were the first people to spread across the planet—not us. That’s why the Covenant of Genesis was created, and why they’re so determined to destroy any evidence of this. The Veteres were monotheistic, they worshipped a single god … which means that by definition they worshipped the same god of the Torah, the Bible, and the Koran, because they all say there is only one god. But we’ve seen the Veteres’ god, in the giant statues—and he looks like them. Not like us.”
“So much for God creating man in his own image,” said Sophia.
Chase shook his head. “Hang on. The Veteres lived here in the Garden of Eden, yes?” Nina nodded. “So how come they’re not in the Bible?”
“Maybe they were,” said Nina. “Right there in Genesis, all along. ‘There were giants in the earth in those days …’” She swept the flashlight’s beam down the seven-foot-plus length of the body. “Maybe they were the origin of the stories about the Nephilim.”
“So then what happened to them? They were advanced, they were smart—so why’d they disappear?”
“The beasts killed them,” Sophia said.
“What beasts?” Chase demanded. “What are these beasts?”
Nina now knew, and the realization chilled her to the core. “We are.”
Chase was confused. “What?”
“We’re the beasts. Humans.” Images flooded Nina’s mind as she imagined the African plains of two hundred thousand years earlier, at the very dawn of Homo sapiens as a species. A new creature spreading across the lands that had been home to the Veteres for millennia, in every way genetically identical to modern man but feral, still animalistic in thought and action, no language or laws or culture to restrain them. Until … “Oh, my God.”
“What is it?” asked Sophia.
“I just realized what the inscriptions in Antarctica meant. About their god punishing the Veteres for giving ‘the gift’ to the beasts. The gift was knowledge. They thought they could train the early humans, domesticate them, turn them into servants. But they were wrong. They screwed up. What they really gave them was the means to destroy their masters. They taught them how to build, how to grow food, use medicine, a thousand and one other things … including how to use weapons. And once the humans had that knowledge, they used it. We drove the Veteres from their lands, chased them across the world, and eventually wiped them out. Completely.”
“They must’ve been able to put up a fight, though,” objected Chase. “Look how big he is.”
“Size doesn’t necessarily mean strength. All the statues we’ve seen of the Veteres are tall and thin.” Nina brought the flashlight closer to the skull. “They had the advantage in intelligence—look how much bigger the brain must be than a human’s. It’s like comparing our brain to a chimp’s. But his teeth are small, the incisors are blunt—the Veteres were probably omnivorous, like us, but these teeth are closer to a herbivore’s.”
“So they had the brains,” said Sophia, “but we still destroyed them.”
“We had something they didn’t—or they didn’t have enough of it,” Nina speculated. “Aggression. They were smarter, but we were more vicious.” She gave Sophia a cutting look. “More willing to kill.”
“Spare me the sanctimony,” Sophia replied. “If we hadn’t been, none of us would be here. It was survival of the fittest, Darwinism in action.”
Nina couldn’t deny that. But she still felt sadness as she regarded the shrouded corpse. Whether their motives had been selfish or altruistic, she would never know; but the Veteres had still given the knowledge of their civilization to the early humans … and, in so doing, brought about their own destruction as surely as if they had handed a gun to an angry child. Forced to flee, the Veteres had used a part of their knowledge that they hadn’t passed on to their attackers—shipbuilding and sailing—to cross the seas and set up new homes, but eventually the cycles of climate change had lowered the waters and opened the way for the humans to pursue them.
And kill them.
“Wait a minute,” said Chase. “If the Garden of Eden and the cherubim and all this were made by these guys, why are they in the Bible?”
The answer was now clear, but at the same time Nina had to struggle even to contemplate it. Although her own upbringing in New York by scientist parents had been anything but evangelical, the seed of religion had still inevitably taken root within her psyche simply through exposure to the culture. But the evidence before her had to be acknowledged. “Because … because the Veteres taught the humans their beliefs. Our religions are based on theirs—one god, one creator. And the story of Genesis is a distorted race memory of what once happened here. Some of the Veteres must have made a last stand to protect what was most holy to them. This place.” She gestured at the walls around them. “Their sacred ground. And the library, their ‘tree of knowledge’—which the humans ‘ate’ from. And they were cast out of Eden for it.”
“So they chased the Veteres all the way to Australia? Bloody hell, talk about holding a grudge.”
“Darwinism again,” Sophia said. “If you have two species competing for the same ecological niche, eventually one of them will destroy the other.”
“Maybe they weren’t entirely destroyed,” said Nina. “They survived as memories, at least—they
might have lived on at a genetic level, too. Maybe there was some interbreeding, just as there was between humans and Neanderthals. It might explain why I could affect the earth energy fields and you couldn’t. Like I could with Excalibur.”
Sophia sneered. “Oh, are you also saying your superior intellect comes from you being a descendant of these creatures?”
“No,” Nina replied tightly. “But there’s obviously some connection between the Veteres and the Atlanteans, because they used the same numerical system. And I am descended from the Atlanteans. So in answer to your question: bite me.”
Chase moved between them. “Okay, so what do we do now?”
“This is our proof,” said Nina, indicating the body. “DNA and carbon-dating tests will provide absolutely irrefutable evidence of an intelligent species that predated humanity. If we can get this out of here and keep it out of the Covenant’s hands, then we still have a chance to expose them to the world—”
“It sounds,” said a Swiss-accented voice, “as though you are going back on our deal, Dr. Wilde.”
Nina, Chase, and Sophia whirled to see Vogler in the doorway, a gun in his hand.
“I thought you didn’t make a deal with them,” Chase said accusingly.
“Not the time or the place, Eddie,” Nina replied as she raised her hands.
Vogler stepped into the room, regarding the sarcophagus and its contents with interest. “So they really were another species.”
“You knew?” Nina asked.
“After the structure of DNA was discovered in the 1950s, the Vatican secretly had the remains obtained by the Covenant’s predecessor organization analyzed. Even though the tests at that time were primitive, the evidence pointed toward it—which led to the creation of the Covenant itself. But those were only small samples; we never found a complete body—until now.”
“And now that you have one … what are you going to do with it?”
Vogler stared at the corpse. “A good question. But for now, come with me.” He waved them toward the door with his gun. “Professor Ribbsley is about to arrive.”
Vogler took them back into the field of flowers, where Callum was waiting, along with two more Covenant troopers. Trampled trails led to the edge of the plateau, where Chase saw several carbon-fiber hooks on the rocky edge. Rather than running the gauntlet of the temple, Vogler’s team had fired grappling hooks up the cliff and scaled the lines attached to them. “This all you’ve got left?” he asked mockingly. “The Covenant’s goon platoon must be pretty short-staffed by now.”
“There will be more to replace them,” said Vogler. He looked at Nina. “But … there may be no need.”
A loud noise caught everyone’s attention: a helicopter hovering above the largest hole in the ceiling. The gap was tight, at one point little more than a yard’s clearance to each side of the blades, but the pilot skillfully brought the aircraft through. As it turned toward the plateau, a flash of white clothing in the cockpit revealed the pilot’s identity: Ribbsley.
Petals whirled like a scented snowstorm as the helicopter descended, settling near the top of the cliff path. Ribbsley emerged and walked through the flowers as if out for an afternoon stroll. “I must say,” he called as he approached the waiting group, “this is rather impressive. The actual Garden of Eden, an entire self-contained ecosystem, right in the middle of one of the most awful wastelands on the planet. Remarkable!” He gave Vogler a quizzical look. “Your numbers seem to be rather thinned, Killian. And where’s Zamal?”
“Dead,” Vogler told him.
“Ah. Terrible shame.” There was not even the pretense of sincerity in Ribbsley’s voice. “Good job I decided to stay in Khartoum until you found this place, then.” He turned to Nina. “Or, I suspect, until you found it, Dr. Wilde. Congratulations.”
Nina’s reply was equally insincere. “Why, thank you, Professor. That makes it all worthwhile.”
He smiled, barely giving Chase a glance before moving on to Sophia, his relieved response now genuine. “Sophia, thank God. Are you all right?”
“A little bruised,” she said with a smile, “but still alive and kicking.”
“Thank God,” he repeated, taking her hands in his and gazing into her eyes with a mixture of longing and lust before embracing her tightly and whispering something into her ear. She replied in kind; Nina couldn’t make out what either had said, but as they moved apart she caught a flicker of expression on Sophia’s face.
Anticipation?
Nobody else had noticed, Ribbsley blocking their view. He turned back to Vogler. “So, I understand that we have an interesting find. Show me.”
“This way,” said Vogler. He gestured for his men to bring the prisoners before heading back to the mausoleum. Ribbsley followed, Callum at the rear of the line, briefly reaching into his jacket.
While the soldiers watched over Nina, Chase, and Sophia in the main room, the others went into the burial chamber to examine the body, emerging a few minutes later. Ribbsley turned his attention to the inscriptions on the walls. “So the story of the expulsion from paradise in Genesis really was true … from a certain point of view. I suppose we’ll never know how much of the distortion of events was deliberate and how much was down to Chinese whispers, but it’s not important right now. What is important,” he said to Vogler, “is what the Covenant plans to do about it. You’re the only member of the Triumvirate still alive, so it seems to be entirely your decision.”
“So it does,” said Vogler. He stared through the doorway at the body before turning away—not to Ribbsley, but to Nina. “In the past, things would have been very simple. The Covenant had a specific purpose: to locate and destroy all evidence of the Veteres and their civilization—anything that could undermine the creation story in the Bible and the other holy books. We would simply have obliterated this entire place.”
“So what’s stopping you now?” Nina asked, challenging him.
“I think you know.” Vogler pointed at the doorway. “Out there is the greatest, the holiest place in history. The Garden of Eden, Dr. Wilde! Paradise on earth, where God himself once walked! Destroying it would be…. blasphemy. A mortal sin.”
“What, worse than all your others?”
He prickled at the barb but didn’t respond to it. “The discovery of the Garden of Eden doesn’t undermine Genesis,” he said. “It confirms it. If Eden is revealed to the world, then it will show the faithful that they were right to believe.”
“You might be right,” said Nina. “Except for one minor inconvenience.” She indicated the ancient body. “The Garden of Eden was his paradise, not ours.”
“Which is why I have a dilemma—and why you may be the one to help me solve it.”
“Why her?” Ribbsley demanded. “In fact, why is she even still alive?”
“A good question,” Callum added. His gaze fixed on Sophia. “Why are any of them still alive, Vogler?”
“Because she will be believed,” said Vogler. “The world’s most famous archaeologist, the discoverer of Atlantis and the tombs of King Arthur and Hercules? If she is the one who reveals that Eden has been found, everyone will accept her story.”
Nina gave him a humorless half smile. “But if I tell the world about finding Eden, I’d tell the whole story—including the part about the Veteres being its original occupants. It’d be kind of hypocritical otherwise.”
“But you’re already a practiced hypocrite, Dr. Wilde,” Vogler countered. “You lied to the world about the real reasons behind Kristian Frost’s search for Atlantis. And I’m sure you lied in your official report to the U.N. about Excalibur being lost at sea.”
“That—not telling the whole story about Atlantis was for security reasons,” said Nina, caught off guard by the depth of his knowledge, and trying to avoid Callum’s accusing stare. “If I’d announced that the discovery of Atlantis led to the world coming this close”—she held her thumb and forefinger a bare inch apart—“to having a plague unleashed on it, there would hav
e been total chaos!”
“And what do you think will happen if you tell the billions of people who follow Christianity or Islam or Judaism that you have undeniable proof their beliefs are wrong?”
“I—” Nina stopped to consider the question. “Wait, you’ve seen the proof, and your beliefs haven’t changed,” she said, veering off the subject to avoid having to give an answer.
“My beliefs are unshakable. I would not be able to do what I do if they were not. Accepting the existence of the Veteres does not mean denying the existence of God. But there are many who will feel angry and afraid at having their beliefs challenged. And when people are angry and afraid … that is when order breaks down.”
“Order—and obedience,” Sophia said cuttingly. “Which is what religion is really all about, isn’t it? It wouldn’t be good to have people questioning what they’ve been told to believe.”
“Mr. Callum, if she speaks out of turn again, you can shoot her,” said Vogler. Callum’s expression made it clear that he thought the decision was long overdue. Ribbsley watched the American closely, his face tight. “Dr. Wilde, do you remember what Cardinal di Bonaventura told you about the way the Vatican dealt with controversial scientific theories?”
“Yeah. It accepted them.”
“Over time. The Big Bang, evolution … the Church now accepts such things as fact. But that acceptance took years, even decades. Not because those within the Vatican resisted the ideas, but because the faithful would resist them if they were thrust upon them all at once. But if they are gradually introduced …”
“… they’re believed,” Nina concluded.
“Yes. They eventually become part of catechism, and cannot be denied. But when the truth will seem so controversial, so dangerous, that truth needs time to be accepted.” He looked back at the entrance. “You have found the Garden of Eden. I … I cannot allow it to be destroyed. It must be revealed to the world. The Veteres are an integral part of Eden—yet I cannot reveal them to the world without risking chaos. Do you see my dilemma?”