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R E S E T

S . I . S M A L L E Y


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Copyright 2011 S. I. Smalley

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by anymeans, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher.

All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearlyin the public domain, are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons,

living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The Ank Anu as a lost civilisation are a figment of the authorsimagination. All other scientific hypotheses or explanations are, to the

best of the authors knowledge and research, in line with publishedconsensus at the time of publication.

Publisher: cabera Ltd; Registered Office:156 Chesterfield Road, Ashford, Middlesex, TW15 3PT

Registered in England and Wales, Co. 03577620

Email: [email protected]

ISBN: 1466497688ISBN-13: 978-1466497689


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To Ian.


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5

Prologue

Save for a bare metal bed the claustrophobic cabin is void

of furniture. Beyond the porthole, miles upon miles of grey,

desolate ocean stretch beyond a bleak horizon, twinned with

an equally desolate, grey sky.

Surrounded by scattered sheets of plain paper, a frail

figure of indeterminable age and gender sits on the floor,

slumped against the wall, legs outstretched. Damp hair clings

listlessly to sallow features, sunken eyes are underlined by

deep, dark shadows. The pale green hospital gown, hanging

limply off its owner, does nothing to disperse the image of a

terminally ill patient.

Suddenly, the skinny hands protruding from the gown

reach unsteadily for paper and a carelessly discarded pencil.

Fresh scars and broken nails spell recent hardship, yet the

simple movement somehow conveys defiance.

Occasionally, small, brittle coughs cut through the silence

as words are brought to paper in a slow, childlike scrawl.

If hell has a face, this must be it. Days melting into

nights, nights mingling with days. An indistinguishable

timeless blur. My only companion, silence. Eternal,

deafening silence.

How much time has passed? Years, it seems.

The memory of who I was has faded, become distorted,like a watercolour painting left in the rain.


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The writing changes to meaningless doodles. As lines add

to lines, the doodles appear to take shape, forming what

looks like oddly twisted stick figures.

Suddenly, the writer scrunches up the page and angrily

tosses it to the floor, muttering barely audible words in a

frail, sexless voice.

Ramblings of a madperson, they said. Ignorant fools!

If only they had listened, had tried to understand.


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1

Monday, September 05

Taking small sips from a mug of steaming hot coffee,

Mandy sat in her favourite armchair in the tiny

lounge of their tiny mid-terrace on the edge of affluent

Richmond-upon-Thames.

Although too small really to deserve being called a house,

its convenient location and pleasant neighbourhood had

always been much more important than space. With house

prices beyond sky-high even seven years ago, they had been

lucky to get anything half decent.

Back then, Mandy had loved the idea of practically

rubbing shoulders with the many celebrities who either

owned properties in Richmond, or rented during filming inthe nearby Pinewood Studios. Occasionally, you even got

lucky, bumping into someone famous in a local shop or one

of the quaint pubs and bars so typical for England.

Of course, the exclusivity had its price. But bought at a

time when substantial monetary success had seemed just

around the corner, the house had only ever been meant as a

temporary compromise. A stepping stone to bigger andbetter things.


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Life had had a different agenda.

Mandy had long accepted the fact she would never have

the success she once dreamed.She had also come to realise there truly was no longer any

point. The voices have told me so.

Looking out the back window, Mandy pulled the mug

closer, almost hugging it. Her mood mellowed as she

surveyed the view behind the house.

Its best feature by far, the property boasted a surprisinglylarge back garden, over three times the ground space of

the house itself. Which, if she was honest, didnt really

mean much.

As always, Mandy felt a sense of pride taking in the lush

scenery she had spent so much time perfecting: rose bushes

and hardy perennials fighting for pole position along the low

fence. Thick, velvety lawn, home to large terracotta potsoverflowing with herbs and flowers. Honeysuckle dripping

richly from the wooden trellis arching over their small gate.

Birds, bees and butterflies joyfully bringing the wonders of

nature right to her doorstep, every year anew.

Yes, whatever anyone might say about the house,

the garden more than made up for it. And for all her

short-comings according to George, gardening was not one of

them. Even under the most difficult of circumstances, plants

in Mandys care flourished, as if in special thanks to her

continued efforts.

Mandy wasnt sure how she would have coped without

the garden during the insufferable years of marriage.

Greenery and blossoms had given peace and solace where

people no longer could. She wondered, not for the first time,


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why she had put up with George for so long. But the

question was academic. What else could she have done, with

two babies, no money, and no longer able to work?

Contempt darkening her features, Mandys gaze

involuntarily shifted to George. Bastard.

True to many a clich, he had seemed a good choice

during their brief premarital relationship.

Well-mannered, soft-spoken and generous, he would

often bring her flowers or chocolates or take her out to the

cinema and fancy restaurants.

It had been a wonderful time, and when Mandy had

discovered she was pregnant, George had been kind and

understanding. He had proposed to her the following day,

and four weeks later, the low key registry office ceremony

had sealed her fate.

As Mandy soon found out, nice George had all been afront, rapidly making way for evil George.

At first she had fought, and maybe things would have

turned out differently, had it not been for the accident.

Not that it had been one. But with all evidence pointed

against her, no one had believed her story. The case had soon

been closed, officially labelled an accident forever.

Both legs badly broken and her skull fractured in multiple

places, Mandy had been fortunate to survive. Following

countless operations and a lengthy hospital stay, she had

finally been sent home. But what should have been

her sanctuary for a sound recovery had soon turned into her

own personal hell.

For six long weeks, she had been bed-bound anddependent on George. Already weakened, her willpower on


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the demise, six weeks was all it had taken to finally break

Mandys spirits for good.

Initially, it had been little things. Letting her go hungryand thirsty for hours; taking her blanket and turning off

the heating; denying her distractions such as television

and reading.

Before long, George had started to actively punish her. For

what, only he knew. Mandy suspected he had despised her

weakness. Or maybe it had just been a convenient excuse for

enacting his depraved desires.

Whatever. It didn't matter. The outcome had been the

same: mental torture and indescribable pain.

Pinches in places no one would see; spiders inside her

pyjamas; tying a plastic bag over her head, watching her vain

struggle for air; whipping the soles of her feet. The list of

torments had been extensive, and George had proved veryimaginative when it came to making her suffer. Clearly

enjoying it, his excitement manifested itself in what George

himself no doubt regarded as a powerful erection. He usually

finished with Mandys ultimate humiliation, forcing her to

swallow the foul-smelling result of his noisy release.

During those few weeks, Mandy lost all will to fight.

When she was finally able to walk again, she did not resisthis continued craving for abuse. Rather, she resorted to what

she had learnt during her time at his complete mercy:

shutting out reality until it was over.

Now, finally, it was over for good.

Mandy looked at George again. A gleam of satisfaction

brightened her eyes as she took in his pathetic appearance.

The boring plaid shirt, woollen waistcoat and pleated beige


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corduroys were as befittingly lifeless as the ridiculously thin

frame sprawled on the floor before her. With his long

wrinkly neck, scrawny features and wispy brown hair caked

in blood, dead George reminded her of a baby bird fallen out

of its nest. Only, there had been nothing vulnerable about

George in life.

A sudden violent surge of decades of marital misery and

suppressed hatred swept over Mandy with all the force of a

tsunami. Too bad she could not kill him again.

Her eyes went back to the garden and focused on arichly coloured fuchsia spilling out of a hanging basket by

the side of the window. A welcome distraction from her

dark thoughts.

A so-called double fuchsia, this plant was her favourite.

Through breeding, the stamens had flattened to become

additional petals, thus giving it a particularly full

appearance. To Mandy, this fuchsia signified the ultimateachievement in plant perfection.

The ultimate contrast to her wasted life.

Mandy suddenly got up, a sense of purpose energising her

movements. The task was not yet finished.

Killing George had been easy. A simple clean-up act,

getting rid of life's garbage. The hard part was yet to come.

Jerking her head from side to side, as if to shake the

unwelcome thoughts from her brain, Mandy went to get her

tools from the tiny shed. There was no other way.

Without hurry, she started weeding. There was plenty of

time to kill. It would be a while yet before the little ones came

back from school.


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2

Wednesday, January 25

The huge shipyard had clearly seen better days.

Bracken ocean water slapped listlessly against crumbling

piers littered with long-dead parts and corroding barrels,

scattered amongst grubby containers.

Few of the poorly dressed Asian workers did anything

more than stand around chatting or playing cards. Even the

intense midday sun had no chance of brightening up the

depressing surroundings, its dazzling rays largely absorbed

by omnipresent rust and dirt.

Into the dusty silence, a flash, black limo with tinted

windows slowly cruised towards a large concrete building

with huge loading bays and a row of dirt-encrusted windowson the upper floor. Behind the nondescript driver sat two

dont fuck with me stereotypes, sporting black tailored

suits, monochrome ties and dark sunglasses.

What do you think? Kato asked in a low voice, as dead

as the decrepit shipyard surrounding them.

Completing the Hollywood clich, his partner, Ethan, did

not move a muscle. He had already decided he did not like


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their mission, and it seemed to get worse with each shipyard.

But he wasn't paid to think or voice opinions, and the money

was good. Very good in fact. It would enable him to finally

afford the new luxury house and lifestyle his wife had been

nagging him about for the past three years. It even

compensated for Kato's annoying presence.

This was the biggest shipyard they had visited so far.

Stretching along the coast over nearly three kilometres and

covering an area of several square kilometres, it boasted

four dry docks of varying sizes up to seven hundred byninety-five metres. Three large-scale floating docks, all

equipped with huge gantry cranes, could accommodate

vessels with draughts up to fourteen metres and an

impressive one million deadweight tonnage. Two assembly

halls, several large pre-fabrication sheds, automated

steel-cutting lines and a painting shop completed the picture.

A bit of brushing up, and there wasn't much this shipyardcould not deal with, Ethan mused. But first, they would have

to dispose of a minor problem.

The limousine drew to a halt, and Ethan adjusted his tie.

Lets go, he finally replied sternly, completely ignoring

Katos question.

*

Yong watched their approach from up above through one

of the tatty bamboo blinds adorning the grimy windows.

Frowning, the Asian ran his fingers through his greasy

black hair. His expression watchful, he subconsciously wiped

the soiled hands on the already greasy shirt that loosely

covered his slender torso.


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Yongs beady eyes followed as Kato and Ethan got out of

the limo and went up the fire escape. To him, they looked

like an odd version of the Blues Brothers without hats

and mikes.

Although Kato was short, he made up for it in body mass.

Putting Rambo to shame with his stocky build and muscular

body, he looked like he could easily kill someone with his

little finger. By contrast, at nearly two metres tall, Ethan was

of an impressive height not borne out by his skinny stature

and gaunt face.Yong slightly shook his head. Did they really expect him

to deal with those two goons?

Of course, Yong had anticipated the visit. He just had not

reckoned on it being so soon. Nor had he envisaged his

visitors to be what quite obviously were mere servants.

Surely they knew he wouldnt deal with underlings. Although

he would never let anyone know it, the thought disgustedYong. His dignity did not allow him to negotiate with anyone

below his own level. They would simply have to leave

empty-handed until their boss came to his senses and they

spoke face to face.

After letting them wait for a few deliberate seconds, Yong

opened the dilapidated door, carefully ensuring it did not fall

off the only remaining hinge. Without as much as a greeting

nod, he motioned Kato and Ethan into his office.

Yong watched in anger as Kato went straight past him, sat

down in the only chair and leisurely put his feet on the desk.

Yet something in Katos manner stopped the complaint rising

in Yongs throat from actually leaving his mouth.

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beyond his full height and tightened his face into an icy stare.

He would be damned if he showed any fear to those goons.

Legs akimbo, Ethan planted himself with his back to oneof the windows, careful not to touch the filthy blind with his

immaculate suit.

Despite all shades being drawn, neither Ethan nor Kato

bothered to take off their sunglasses.

What is your answer? Ethan asked without preamble.

He knew there was no need to explain.

The offer is an insult, Yong replied in what he

considered a quiet but superior tone. Have you brought me

a better offer?

As you well know, this is the only offer.

If you do not have a better offer, please tell your boss I

will discuss the matter with him personally. And only with

him personally. Please leave now, I am a busy man.

Somehow I don't think so, Ethan said, suddenly a

distinctly menacing air about him. And as to your message,

no can do. You see, my boss is a very nice lady. That is, when

she is not angry. Going back with your message would make

her angry. Very angry.

This is not my problem. Yong grew impatient. He hadmore pressing concerns than two pussies working for a

woman. Time to get rid of the goons. He reached for the

phone. The guards would take care of it.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Ethan appeared by his side.

Quick as a flash he clamped his hand around Yongs wrist,

holding him firmly in place.

With exaggerated patience, he explained. Oh, but I think


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it is. Let me lay it out for you: you refuse the offer, I tell my

boss. I tell my boss, my boss is pissed off. My boss is pissed

off, I lose my job. That's if I'm lucky. Now, I dont want to

lose my job, never mind vital body parts. It's that simple.

Clearly this isnt the busiest of shipyards by any means,

Kato chimed in. So all things considered it seems to me this

offer is more than generous. You really should reconsider.

You have taken up enough off my time. Leave now.

Both of you.

You still dont understand, Ethan said, narrowing his

eyes. Let us help you make up your mind.

As if on cue, Kato produced a gun and calmly shot Yong

first in the left ankle, then in the right.

His ruined legs no longer able to support his body weight,

he collapsed on the floor.

The shock at the abrupt turn of events momentarily

blocked out any feeling. Then a sudden overwhelming wave

of fear and nausea went through Yong, the terrifying

realisation of his situation turning his blood to ice. But Yong

was a proud man. He was not given his name, which roughly

translated as 'the brave one', for nothing. He would not give

these hooligans the satisfaction of showing his fear or

suffering. When the pain struck, he clenched his teeth and

merely waited in silent agony.

Next will be the knees, Ethan calmly commented.

Then the wrists, followed by the elbows and so forth. You

get the picture.

Despite his pain and terror, Yong remained defiant.

Surely, they would come to their senses. After all, they weremere servants, and their boss would not be impressed by


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their attempts to intimidate an important business partner

such as himself.

You forget who you are dealing with, he said with asmuch emphasis as he could muster.

Do we? A hint of excitement crossed Ethans normally

impassive face. Looks like we got ourselves a little wannabe

hero here, Kato. This could take some time; go get us some

coffee from the limo.


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3

Sunday, March 11

To the casual observer, the huge Peruvian plateau held

nothing of interest. The barren ground appeared desolate,

hostile even.

Bordered mostly by near-vertical drops of sheer rock and

virtually impenetrable rainforest far below, the plateau was

set in an eerie silence against a seemingly infinite range of

dark, craggy mountains. Like ghost fingers, wisps of fog

weaved their way through nearby jutting peaks towering

above the dusty, stone-strewn expanse. Even the scattered

tufts of coarse grass, aided by an unseasonably warm sun,

were unable to convey a sense of life.

The two figures struggling up the last stretch of thenarrow path to the top seemed oblivious to the untouched

rough beauty around them. Sweat-streaked and exhausted,

they battled gravity, using whatever sparse vegetation and

rocks would lend support, soldiering on like two wind-up

toys on a mission.

Mark wiped the sweat from his eyes with the back of his

hand and looked up in frustration. Still no closer. Would thereever be an end to this dreadful journey? What the hell had he


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been thinking, getting himself into this mess? Prone to

sunburn and ungainly blotches, Mark tended to avoid even

the usually impotent British sun. A big fan of clubs and

parties, he much preferred nurturing a nocturnal life style. As

a freelance IT expert, his days did not usually start until

noon, and aerobic exercise was largely limited to tackling

the dance floor. Even short, easy hikes on a cloudy day were

a challenge.

Groping a few feeble-looking weeds, Mark heaved himself

up another few centimetres.What a bloody fucking nightmare. And all just for a bet.

To impress his mates, doing the Indiana Jones bit. Prove he

was more than an anaemic party-loving couch potato with a

penchant for booze. Fucking idiot!

I swear, he moaned, this is the first and last time I

come along on one of your bloody trips!

I thought you liked it rough, Sue happily chirped at him

from ahead, not missing a stride. She briefly looked over her

shoulder and shot him an encouraging smile.

Come on, dont be such a wimp, were nearly there. You

know, this is so exciting. Just think, we might be the first

people in hundreds of years, maybe ever, to come here.

Well, yeah, I guess theres something to be said for the

view, Mark reluctantly conceded, admiring Sues long

shapely legs and firm butt moving rhythmically before him.

He liked to think this was the main reason he trailed

behind. Not one for self-analysis, it was unlikely he would

ever acknowledge the fact he simply did not have the drive

or stamina to set a demanding pace the way Sue did

so effortlessly.


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The moment they hit the top, Sue dumped her rucksack

and looked around. Fuelled by excitement, she clearly wasn't

interested in taking a break. Strapping on a small belt

holding a few essential archaeology tools, she turned to

Mark. Come on, lets get started! We need to make the most

of the daylight.

Too tired for his pride to insist on his usual pretence, Mark

gave out a weak bleat. What?? We've just spent hours

getting here, I'm tired, thirsty, I need a rest, I -

Sue rolled her eyes skywards in frustration. Why is itmen always pretend theyre so tough, yet when push comes

to shove theyre really just big, big babies! She took the water

bottle from her rucksack and held it out to him. Here, take a

sip and stop whining, for God's sakes.

She vigorously set out to search the plateau, examining

various rock formations which might or might not have been

man-made.

After watching her for a few moments, Mark followed suit

with clearly limited enthusiasm. He occasionally bent down

to listlessly investigate a vaguely promising piece of rock,

and after nearly one hour, he finally had enough. This was

not his idea of fun, and anyway, he had only come along to

win his bet.

Well, truth be told, not that he ever would, he also had not

liked the idea of Sue trekking alone through the wilderness.

But he certainly did not care for doing Sues boring work for

her, least of all if under explicit instructions not to touch, and

to alert Sue if he saw anything of potential interest. As if he

knew what might be of interest by merely ambling around,

staring at things from a distance.Mark homed in on the most comfortable looking rock


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he could find. A hopelessly leafless bush overhanging it

provided a skinny spider web of shadow. In the absence of

anything else, it would have to do.

He sat down with a sigh, sipped some water and fanned

himself with his sweat-soaked baseball cap while watching

Sue comb the plateau. Only now, seeing her dwarfed figure

moving ant-like in the distance, did he appreciate how huge

and empty it really was. It would take at least two full days

to check the whole area. Fucking great.

Tired and thoroughly fed up, he rested his elbows on histhighs and put his head in his hands in frustration. Feeling

very sorry for himself, his eyes wandered aimlessly down

between his feet. Beyond yet more dust and dirt, Mark

spotted an unusual indentation near the base of the rock he

was sitting on.

More out of boredom than curiosity, he got down on his

knees to examine it further. To hell with his instructions.Removing some dirt to see whats there would not damage

anything. After brushing off the worst with his bare hands he

called out to Sue.

Hey, Sue, I think I found something. Some small recess,

and theres a stone block of sorts. Seems to have something

engraved on it, looks like chicken scratches.

Sue hurried over. After assessing the recess she pulled out

the tablet and carefully brushed the stone clean.

Chicken scratches my arse, she slowly said, her

beautiful turquoise eyes widening. These are genuine runes,

you idiot!

Ruins? Arent they supposed to be big crumbly things,

like walls and Sues filthy look shut him up.


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Too excited to be cross with him, she knelt down by the

stone tablet to examine it further.

This is exactly the sort of thing we've been looking for Mark, you are a genius!


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4

Tuesday, March 13

Although they had not found anything else in two days of

vigorous search, Sue felt elated. Months of painstaking

research had eventually led to this particular plateau, and all

the hard work had been proved worth it with this first solid

piece of evidence.

The steep sides of the mountains now soaring behind

them, Sue practically ran down the last bit of slope, unable to

contain her excitement. The fact that Mark was barely able to

keep up did not register. And even if it had, it would have

been of no consequence. His constant whingeing and

moaning was grinding her down. The sooner they got home,

and the less said on the way, the better. The fact that he was

the one who had made the crucial find had not kept him inher good books for long.

Sue, take it easy, will you? Whats the hurry? I wanna get

back in one piece!

Here we go again, Sue thought. Still, at the end of the day

she was grateful for his presence, because even to her as an

experienced backpacker, a trip alone in uncharted wildernesshad been a daunting prospect. And really, who could


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blame Mark for getting a bit ratty so far beyond his usual

comfort zone? Then again, there also were other aspects of

their on-off relationship which got on her nerves, not least of

all his general unreliability. It definitely was time for an off

period again, maybe permanently this time. But no point

letting him know now how she felt, it would only mean

endless, inescapable discussions on the way home. Right

now, she had more important things to think about. Much

more important things.

Sue, please, take it easy!Will you stop whingeing?! Look, this find is mega! I am

convinced, it will prove my theory, and it will be the first

time ever for anyone

The unexpected flapping of large wings startled Sue.

Disturbed by her fast approach, an Andean condor that had

been perched on a small rock ledge near the path took to the

skies. Without stopping, Sue looked on in fascination as theimpressive bird unfolded its wings to a span of nearly three

metres and elegantly glided from thermal to thermal towards

the horizon.

Distracted by the rare spectacle, Sue suddenly lost her

footing, tumbling several feet down the gravelly slope. The

last thing she noticed before being engulfed by blackness was

a large rock zooming towards her at incredible speed.


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5

Monday, March 19

Sue bolted upright, ready to kill. She had never been much

of a morning person, and, after two blissful weeks without

her penetrant alarm clock, it seemed more irritating than

ever. Eyes still tightly shut, Sue heaved herself out of bed and

sleep-walked to the other side of the room to end the ear-

numbing tinny noise.

Much as she hated this routine, all previous attempts with

alarms involving gentle melodies and a convenient snooze

function by the bedside had only resulted in sweetly

prolonged sleep and being late for work. Keeping this old-

fashioned wind-up nuisance out of reach was infuriating, but

did the job reliably.

Having dealt the alarm clock an unusually vicious blow,

she dragged herself to the small windowless bathroom, as

always thankful that Nick quite obviously didn't have it in

his genes to get up early.

Much as Sue loved her brother, mornings were the only

time she was guaranteed on her own terms, before the events

of the day robbed her of whatever little control she had in thefirst place. After a few splashes of ice-cold water on her face,


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she usually even enjoyed being up early, treasuring this first

quiet hour and a relaxed breakfast. Anyone interfering was in

for a moody response at best.

Still too tired to muster an amused smile even, Sue picked

up a carelessly discarded towel, noting with a paradoxical

sense of relief that nothing had changed during her absence.

Nick was as messy as ever, thank God.

Well-meaning friends had warned Sue about moving in

with Nick, mostly on the basis that living with relatives

generally wasn't a good idea and often led to disaster. But for

Sue, it was ideal. At twenty-six, she did not have a steady

boyfriend, and knowing there was a man in the house

definitely made her sleep better at night.

Some heroine you are, she smirked at her reflection.

Sue leant closer to the bathroom mirror in search of any

wrinkles that might have sneaked their way into her faceduring her field trip. But apart from the plaster on her

forehead, she looked much the same as she had two weeks

ago. Better, in fact, the newly acquired golden tan enhancing

the unusual colour of her eyes.

Sue finished by putting her silky, sun-streaked blonde hair

up into a surprisingly fetching bun and went to the kitchen.

Hey, hello there gorgeous.

Although Nick had spoken in his usual soft voice, Sue

nearly jumped out of her skin.

What the hell??

The first time ever she had known Nick to get up before

her, and of all days, it had to be today.Fuelled by the sudden fright as much as the untimely


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intrusion, she shot him a look that might have withered steel

to ashes but was completely lost on Nick.

As usual, her anger was short-lived. By the time she hadwalked through the door, she had resigned herself to the fact

that this morning there would be no peaceful, quiet

breakfast.

Suppressing a sigh, she went over to Nick and pecked him

on the cheek before putting on the kettle to make herself a

cup of coffee.

No, no, you sit down. Let me do this. Nick quickly

jumped in and gently steered her towards a chair.

You know you shouldnt even be up yet after such a fall.

Several days rest the doctors said, and that was yesterday

evening.

I know, I know. But it was only a small tumble, really.

Small tumble?? You were unconscious for several hours

and spent two days in hospital!

There you go, I already had plenty of rest. Dont worry, I

feel fine, honestly.

There was a decisive note to her voice, which told Nick

there was no point arguing. Sue had made up her mind.

He tried a different tack.

So, how was the trip?

Actually, it was great!

Nick finished his soggy corn flakes while listening to Sue

recounting the details, culminating in their incredible find.

looks like it may have been part of or attached to an

ancient sacrificial altar. We didnt hit upon anything else, but


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its amazing we even spotted the tablet. Well, to be truthful,

Mark found it. Sue sneered. Quite by accident, mind.

Amazing. You mean he actually managed to pry his eyesoff your butt long enough to make a real discovery?

If you werent my brother I'd say I just detected a hint of

jealousy there, Sue said with a wink.

Nothing wrong with a bit of good old-fashioned

brothering, Nick countered with an innocent shrug. Moving

on to safer grounds he asked, So you think this was proof

the Ank Anu really did exist? Could the stone tablet not be

natural or from another tribe or a completely different time?

Yes, thats a possibility, but I really don't think so. You

see, the Ank Anu, according to legend, worshipped fire, and

the fire god was their main deity. Now next to the symbols,

theres a nearly complete picture of what very much looks

like a man holding a flame in his hands. Plus, there are nosigns of anyone ever having inhabited the plateau, and no

legends other than the one of the Ank Anu connect to it.

The plateau was not exactly easy to find or get to, so I

believe there's every possibility this is the real thing. If the

tablet proves authentic, theres a good chance Ill finally get

the funding for a proper expedition to excavate the site

and hopefully find further evidence. That would justbe the thing.

Talking of which, and sorry for changing the subject, but

on Thursdays the big annual Sikin bash, dont forget.

Sikin was the familiar name everyone used to refer to the

company Nick worked for, a giant corporation specialising in

contract studies regarding all life on Earth that went by the

full name Six Kingdoms Global Research Centre.


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Sue looked at him questioningly.

Sikinbash? What are you talking about?

Now it was Nicks turn to look at her strangely.

You know, the big yearly party weve been invited to

weeks ago?

Sue slapped her palm against her forehead, as if

suddenly remembering. She immediately regretted her

thoughtless action.

Ouch! What an idiot, she scolded herself, then sweetlysmiled at her brother when she noticed his concerned

expression. Im ok, dont worry. As to the party, course I

remember, I was only joking,

Nick looked at her dubiously, then checked the

ridiculously large Donald Duck clock on the wall. It had been

a house-warming present from a friend in the gift trade, and

although it was nothing more than thin, printed plastic with

a cheap clockwork stuck to the back, Nick and Sue both

loved it for Donald's exuberant, contagious smile.

Right then, the hands hovered dangerously close to

six-thirty. Nick shot up to leave.

Sorry, gotta run, its been quite frantic lately, he called

over his shoulder on the way out. Lets talk somemore tonight.

Sue stared after him, suddenly puzzled. Too excited by

her own story, she had completely forgotten to ask what

could possibly have prompted Nick to overcome his genetic

disorder and get up with the lark.


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6Concentration creasing his features, Nick stared at the

large printout showing a steeply declining line in a chart

headed

COCKROACH - GLOBAL DISTRIBUTION.

With a frown, he turned around to face his colleague.

Stu, with all due respect, these figures simply can't be

right. Cockroaches are one of the most successful species full

stop, even said to survive nuclear disaster, yet according to

this chart they seem to very suddenly be headed straight for

global extinction.

Stuart ran his hand through his thick, brown hair.

I've checked the data and data sources several times with

the same result. Theres nothing out of the ordinary, he said

in a gravelly voice suitable for a cigarette ad. I also spoke tothe IT colleagues to make sure that no change was made to

the program. I cant explain it, but theres nothing pointing to

any kind of problem. There's nothing else I can think of, it

appears the figures are indeed correct.

Nick went to the water dispenser perched precariously on

the edge of an overflowing metal shelf, which had been

carelessly fixed to the wall.


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Many people were taken aback at the first sight of Nicks

office. Haphazard stacks of books, magazines and papers

occupied every available bit of shelf and desk as well as

much of the floor space. But what to others appeared to be

considerable chaos, to Nick was a time-saving arrangement

of information. Whenever necessary, he could immediately

point to the right pile and exact location of a particular,

deeply buried item.

In keeping with their surroundings, the walls were

covered by diagrams and printouts, the only unobstructeditem a worn photograph next to Nicks desk. It showed him

with his arm around Sues shoulders, both of them wearing

loud Hawaiian T-Shirts and grinning inanely at the camera.

Nick drew some water and absentmindedly adjusted his

glasses. It sounded like Stuart had been thorough, but Nick

also knew he still lacked experience. At least regarding the

current context he was working in.One of Sikins most knowledgeable IT experts, Stuart had

not long been assigned to Nicks investigation of the recent

inexplicable data mismatches. Unfortunately, he knew

nothing about species and their habits. Although Nick was

glad to finally have a helping hand, he would have preferred

someone more practised. Someone with enough know-how

to immediately assess the viability of certain data.

Nick took a deep breath and turned his attention back

to Stuart.

If it wasn't so serious I'd say who would miss the roaches

anyway? But joking aside, Stu, Sikins reputation depends on

the accuracy of their research and findings. We cant afford

any oversights. So heres what we do: I want you tospot-check other insect populations while I take a look at the


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rest. There must be a mistake somewhere, maybe we can

pinpoint it by looking at the other data pools. To save time,

we'll for now limit the data to the three latest delta lists.

Stuart raised his eyebrows. Delta lists?

Theyre the ones showing only the differences in

numbers between the last four checkpoints. It will be quicker

than going through the complete figures. Our primary goal is

to assess if this is an isolated incident or whether we perhaps

have some sort of pervasive computer error.

After Stuart had left his office, Nick sat down in front of

his computer and called up Sikins main application.

Presently, the entry screen appeared.

Not easily impressed by modern technology, Nick had to

admit Sikin's state of the art software was well designed,

incredibly fast and easy to use. Powered by a custom-built

petascale supercomputer able to process quadrillions offloating point operations per second, even the most complex

modelling tasks completed in a mere flash. Evaluations and

information exchange were quick and efficient, the data

volumes that could be processed in seconds enormous.

As usual, Sikin had spared no expense.

Nick was proud to be employed by one of the

technologically most advanced companies in the world.

Sikin was a company well-known for its efficient trapping

systems, covering most species around the globe. Since its

foundation in the late nineties, the centre's field research and

computing capabilities had far surpassed competitors in

every respect, and although the monitoring of species

population numbers still was their core business, contracts

for simulating the impact of varying environmentalconditions on different species had become one of the main


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sources of income. Nick played a pivotal role in many of

Sikins projects, but even though he was computer savvy, his

true passion remained nature.

Having been brought up in the in the beautiful Dorset

countryside, he was very much an outdoors person, and

studying biology had been a natural choice. By contrast, his

involvement with maths and computers had been more or

less accidental, thanks to a stint in a project investigating the

dynamics between freshwater diatoms and mayfly naiads

under the influence of various industrial pollutants.Nicks aptitude for numbers and quick grasp of the

computer pretty much determined the future projects he was

given, and sadly, field science had featured less and less over

the years.

With a few mouse clicks, Nick pulled up a customised

report summarising the change in various small carnivorous

mammal populations in Britain over the last ten years.Several showed a curve similar to the cockroach chart.

Sometimes steady, often slowly declining, in rare cases

increasing until recently but each with a sharp drop in the

last few weeks.

With growing concern, Nick broadened the report to

include the rest of Europe, followed by the Americas and

Asia. They all showed the same anomalous trends.

Finally, Nick leant back in his cheap office chair.

Chewing the end of his pen into oblivion, he stared at the

zebra chart, willing it to enlighten him. The same odd picture

the world over.

Something major was amiss; he would have to find out

exactly what and why.


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7

Tuesday, March 20

Her ascetic features tense, Rona sat motionless on a black

leather couch and intensely watched the lifeless high-tech

monitor spanning much of the wall opposite. But for a

tiny green light at the bottom, one might have thought it

switched off.

Suddenly, the screen sprang to life. A metallic voice cut

harshly through the silence, instantly pervading the entire

room from invisible surround speakers.

Meeting 216-x7. Reason: emergency.

In tune with the unnatural rhythm of the digitised words,

a pink fluorescent speech pattern now pulsed across the

black background.

The colour flashing across the screen turned aquamarine,

depicting a second disembodied speaker. There was no

discernible difference in the voice itself.

The rules have been violated.

Several more anonymous speakers, each represented by a

different colour, joined into the calm, analytical discussion.


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Her eyes focused on the dancing lines, Rona listened to

the eerie voices as they continued to converse quietly,

without trace of emotion.

He has to be eliminated.

There is no alternative? He is highly successful.

His success is the problem.

We can't take any risk.

Remember what happened last time.

We should investigate further.

Enough said.

Abruptly, as if on some inaudible command, all speakers

were quiet. Without explicitly demanding so, the new

speaker, White, had ended the discussion.

How can a never changing voice and digitised speechpattern convey authority, Rona mused. She would never get

it. Yet every speaker had instantly known to be silent.

White delivered the final message.

The assessor will investigate.


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8

Thursday, March 22

As promised, Nick was ready at seven, looking smart in a

light blue polo shirt, cream slacks and soft brown leather

shoes. He had actually managed to lend himself a somewhat

suave air, his shaggy dog style hair for once gelled into

submission.

Sue gave him an appreciative nod and followed him to the

battered Triumph Spitfire convertible he lovingly called his

mistress. Although Sue would never hurt his feelings by

telling him, to her it was a rust-riddled death trap she usually

tried to avoid. But the Sikin party was important to Nick, and

Sue knew he would have been upset had she declined his

offer to chauffeur her.

They drove west out of London via the A308 and A30

before joining the M25 and finally the M4. Although traffic

was dense, they kept moving at a steady, albeit slow pace.

From the Slough exit, a short ride through the countryside

brought them to the Sikin estate.

Turning left through massive electronic gates, they

followed a small, windy road. Stocky palm trees on both


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sides partially obstructed the view to the carefully

landscaped gardens beyond. Sue wondered if they took

special care to protect the palm trees from frost, or whether

they survived winters without any help. Maybe, she thought,

it wasn't all that cold in this part of England. After all, it

wasn't that far north from towns like Torquay or Torbay with

their Mediterranean flair and abundance of palm trees.

Suddenly the tree line stopped and the road divided to

embrace a beautiful Japanese style pond behind which the

Sikin building towered. The elaborate granite and glassstructure gave Sue the passing notion of some silly mistake

having put her in an expensive holiday resort, rather than her

brother's work place.

As they neared the main entrance, Sue lowered the sun

visor to give her face a final check in the mirror. Except for a

slightly shiny nose, which was quickly taken care of by her

compact, everything was perfect. Even by her standards.Nick pulled into his assigned slot in the staff parking lot

near the foyer. Judging by the number of cars, there couldn't

be many people yet, Sue reckoned.

She climbed out of the car, careful not to damage her sheer

satin tights, and followed her brother up the wide marble

stairs, her stride confident. Although she did not usually

flaunt herself, Sue knew she looked stunning this evening.

A no-frills black little number, cut low at the back and ending

a good hands width above the knees, accentuated her long

blond hair, bronzed skin and slim figure. High heels and a

few choice accessories completed the image of pure,

understated elegance.

All Sues self-assurance evaporated the moment theyentered the building. Talk about overdressed.


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The reception area was dominated by omnipresent

ankle-length floral dresses on mostly elderly women with

heavy makeup and saggy cleavages.

Trouser suits complemented by low-heeled shoes were the

only occasional exception, for the most part worn by not

much younger women with thin lips and extreme bob-style

haircuts. The few men Sue could make out all wore

inconspicuous suits and ties.

Even Nick in his inoffensive attire looked out of place, as if

they both had just stepped onto a fancy film set.

Fighting her urge to bolt, Sue instinctively sought cover

behind Nick.

Intuitively aware of her discomfort, he quickly took her

elbow and, avoiding the punishing openness of the

cavernous reception area, steered her along the wall towards

the bar at the back of the hall. Trying unsuccessfully to meltinto her surroundings, Sue used Nick as a shield against the

undisguised stares ranging from curious and mildly amused

to lecherous and outright hostile.

Nick, Sue hissed angrily, when they finally reached a

poorly lit spot next to a massive marble column near the bar.

How could you let me do this?

Don't worry, sis, he soothed guiltily, you look

absolutely gorgeous. I swear, you'll be fine. This is just the

backend of the afternoon do, but it will get better soon,

I promise. Wait here, I'll get us a drink.

Not giving Sue time to object, Nick quickly disappeared

off towards the bar.

Only having stared at the floor during her gauntlet, Suetook the opportunity to fully assess the impressive backdrop.


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Although Nick had been working for Sikin for several years

now, Sue had never visited him at workor taken him up on

his invitations to the yearly do, which so far had always

coincided with her field trips.

She let her gaze wander from floor to ceiling and along the

length of the area. The hall was positively gigantic, designed

not just to receive visitors, but also for holding functions such

as this one.

Sikin had obviously spared no expense furbishing it.

In line with their ambition to be perceived as being at theforefront of modern technology, everything from the black

granite floor and walls to the expensive custom-made lights

spanning the ceiling high above was designed to impress.

Several meeting rooms, bathed in a pastelly glow, were

visible beyond the gallery running along the walls.

A combination of tungsten halogen and sculpted cold

cathode highlights, in Sikin's trademark yellow and greencolours, underlined the imposing structure and served as a

visual link to the artfully lit terrace outside.

Although the hall was not even half full, Sue estimated

there were at least three hundred people milling around.

And? Nick came up from behind her, handing her a

glass. Do you like it?

It is truly fantastic, to say the least. Although I'm still not

sure about the dress code. Maybe I should have dug out

mum's hippy skirt.

Like I said, don't worry, it will change soon. We have lots

of younger employees and people we deal with, too. Its

going to be fun, Sikin will make sure of it. Facetious voices

might say they just want to give a bit of leash so their slaves


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relax and have a good time. Meaning they can kick ass a

bit harder for the next twelve months, and nobody will mind

so much.

Hey, is this the same person talking who usually goes to

great lengths to ensure nobody says anything bad about your

employer? Since when is my little big brother so mercenary?

Im sorry, I guess work's just getting to me.

Sue looked up in mild surprise. That's a new one.

Whats up?

Nick sighed. I don't want to bore you with it, at least not

now, anyway. We're here to enjoy ourselves. How about I

show you around, before it gets too crowded?

For the next fifteen minutes, Sue followed as Nick led her

through the building, pointing out various bits of interest

along the way.

Beyond the reception hall, an inconspicuous staircase led

to the upper floors, where glass-fronted offices were situated

along a gallery overlooking the party area downstairs.

Tucked away in a corner was Nick's office. He quickly

showed her around, although as offices went, there was

nothing spectacular about it. There wasnt even enough

critical mass to allow the few scattered items being calleda mess.

Nick explained that the upstairs offices were mostly

for show and administrative work. The most important

areas were actually located in the basement, such as

laboratories fitted with hugely expensive special equipment

and offices containing sensitive information, including his

own real office. No one, except employees with specialclearance, was allowed down there. High-security automated


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steel doors coupled with trained security guards ensured

break-ins were virtually impossible. Again, Sifer had spared

no expense in this instance to protect their assets.

By the time they returned to the marble pillar, the music

had changed from classical to light pop, and the average age

of party-goers appeared to have dropped by several decades.

The dance floor was beginning to fill nicely.

Waiting for Nick to return with the next round of drinks,

Sue noted with relief that floral prints and power suits had

now been largely replaced by casual but smart attire, notdissimilar to what Nick and Sue where wearing. At least she

no longer stood out like a sore thumb.

It slowly seeped into Sue's conscience that Nick had been

gone for a rather long time. Looking towards the bar, she

wondered what took him so long. Perhaps all the new

arrivals were piling up at the bar, fighting over the bar staff's

attention? With his polite and unassertive manner, Nickwould almost certainly be bounced back to the end of the

queue more than once.

Craning her neck, Sue scanned the area more closely to see

if he might need help. She finally spotted Nick talking to

someone near the far end of the counter.

Although he was largely hidden behind the other man'sbroad shoulders, something in Nicks manner struck her as

slightly off. In fact, from where she stood, it looked like he

was angry.

Nick? Angry? Sue shook her head, dismissing the thought.

She had never known Nick to be angry about anything or

anyone. Not even their annoying nosy neighbour who kept

tabs of their every move peering through his net curtains allday. Whereas Sue found it intrusive and annoying, Nick


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laughed it off, saying the poor old bugger was just lonely,

and at least it gave him a purpose to life.

Puzzled, Sue tried to get a good look at Nicks opponent,but all she could make out was a male of average height, and

the fact that his body language, too, suggested anger.

She watched as Nick ended the conversation with a

resigned shake of his head and some seemingly quieter

words.

He returned, handing her a curious-looking cocktail

radiating suspiciously fluorescent colours.

House special, Nick smiled. Not the faintest trace of

anger. Had she misinterpreted the situation?

What was that all about, back there? It almost looked like

you were having an argument with someone.

Argument? Me? No, no, Nick replied innocently.

Nothing to worry about, just discussing some recent

lab results.

Sue knew Nick too well and immediately spotted the

slightly evasive undertone beneath his casual manner.

You're not getting off that easy, she said with a smile.

First you tell me work is getting to you, then you argue with

someone, which is probably as rare as zits on a tortoise anddon't tell me you didn't argue, I know you too well. And you

try to convince me it was just a discussion.

Sue paused, her eyes searching his face. Tell me, what is

really going on?

Nick looked at her for a long moment before finally

answering.Sorry, I didn't mean to lie or anything, I just didn't want


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to bother you with it. There's been a few odd occurrences at

work lately. Something doesn't quite wash. It's rather

complicated, but in a nutshell, some of the recent population

stats don't make sense.

Nick sipped his drink before adding, with little conviction,

Maybe it's a computer error.

Population stats? A computer error of all things? How

could that be? Sue frowned, unable to hide her surprise.

Surely a large company like Sikin takes the necessary

precautions to ensure it doesn't have buggy software?

That is exactly the point, Nick conceded. He studied his

fingernails as if hoping they might have the answer.

I double- and treble-checked everything, and I asked IT to

check a few things, but they insist all is ok. I'm not so sure.

There's been a couple of other odd things and I'm beginning

to suspect a breach of security. The guy you just saw

me talking to

Just then a shock of blue hair, sitting atop a goofy smile in

an even goofier face, appeared behind Nick.

Hey, there you are, a friendly voice exclaimed. Care to

introduce me to the gorgeous lady?

*

Sue silently cursed herself. She had enjoyed a variety of

cocktails at the party which, coupled with her high heels,

made for an embarrassingly clumsy exit from the almost

curb-level seat. Nick got to the passenger side just in time to

avoid major damage to leather and paint.


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Walking towards the house, Sue playfully held on to his

arm for support, entertaining him with some giggly story

along the way.

Nick opened the front door. They disappeared inside,

blissfully unaware of the shadowy figure watching them

intently from behind a large rhododendron across the street.


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9

Friday, March 23

Not used to drinking more than the occasional glass of

wine, Sues battle with the alarm clock had been particularly

ferocious this morning. She had felt woozy enough to skip

breakfast, opting instead for aspirin, black coffee and the last

dregs of some left-over UHT orange juice.

Feeling only marginally better, Sue looked in frustration at

the long battery of vehicles before her. She had left later than

usual and as a result was now caught in the full force of rush

hour traffic. The Great Western Road towards Central

London was chock-a-block, cars and buses seemed to be

moving with all the speed of a glacier. Sue let out an

impatient sigh and turned on the radio, for once wishing she

didnt work in Central London.

Its location was the only disadvantage of their traditional

two up two down in Hampton. Although she loved the area,

getting to work was a major pain in the neck, even leaving as

early as she normally did. Sue didn't particularly enjoy

driving, but from the few occasions when she had resorted to

public transport, she knew it wasnt any better. Leaving as

early as she did, mornings werent too bad, but most


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days, the trip home meant near-asphyxiation greatly

accelerated by various body smells wafting unpleasantly

through cramped spaces. Assuming one made it into a

carriage in the first place an endeavour not unlike the

Rugby matches she used to watch on Saturdays with her first

boyfriend. Not exactly built like a brick shithouse, Sue was

not well equipped to muscle her way in, or even withstand

some of those who did. More than once she had been forced

to watch the tube depart without her, even though only

centimetres had separated her from the open carriage door.

We Brits are funny. Full of contradictions, Sue surmised,

remembering the time she had nearly been lynched for

involuntarily skipping a few people in an orderly bus queue.

Completely lost in thought, Sue nearly missed the sudden,

screeching halt of the car in front of her.

Damn it! She slammed her foot on the brake just in time.

A second later and she would have caused an accident.She vowed to be more attentive from here on.

A few more minutes into the journey, Sue's mind

wandered again. Her mind under-challenged by the tiresome

stop and go, she started thinking about the mysterious tablet

they had found.

Exciting as the find was, so far they had nothing solidpointing to the historic purpose or age of the tablet. The

symbols were no help either. For the most part they were

completely unfamiliar, engraved into some kind of rock that

almost certainly was not indigenous to the area where they

had found it. No clues as to why or how it might have got

there. No other finds to provide any context. Nothing

proving a link to the Ank Anu.Many questions, no answers so far.


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A cacophony of angry horns and shouted expletives

shocked Sue out of her ruminations. Jolted into action, she

looked up and saw the traffic light change from green back to

yellow. Taking advantage of her last chance, Sue stepped

onto the accelerator and revved past the light just as it

switched to red. In the rear mirror, the angry stares of those

forced to sit out the next phase shrank to small dots before

fading away completely.

Prompted not least by a mild sense of guilt, Sue forced her

brain to focus exclusively on the traffic. She reached herworkplace, an ugly three-storey brick cube in Shepherds

Bush, without further incident.

Sue disliked the horrible brown structure with its bland

faade and too-small windows, but the depressing exterior

was deceiving.

The entire building had recently been refurbished

to provide nearly four thousand square metres ofmodern offices, as well as bespoke laboratory space, an

air-conditioned gym, shower facilities, and a well-stocked

cafeteria. A fully integrated BMS system controlled the

internal environment from temperature and lighting to fire

and security systems. The property even boasted a small

lecture theatre, which doubled as internal educational facility

and additional source of income for her employer throughexternal seminars.

As an archaeological contracting company established

over thirty years ago, they offered an extensive range of

services to both businesses and private individuals

throughout the United Kingdom. They had taken on Sue a

few years back, when she had just started working on her

masters degree in lost civilisations of the South Americas.


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It had been the logical next step to her Arch and Anth

course in Cambridge, as the combined study of archaeology

and anthropology was widely referred to.

Sue had stayed ever since. Despite the abysmal pay, she

felt incredibly blessed to work for a company that promoted

an open-minded culture and provided an excellent

environment aimed at truly accommodating their employees

needs. Most importantly, Sue had the unique opportunity to

pursue her own research during downtimes or alongside

desk-based assessments with generous deadlines. On theunderstanding that paid projects remained the number one

priority and all work was completed on schedule to the

required standard, Sue was free to use her office and their

equipment as she needed to for her purposes.

With those unbeatable advantages, as long as mortgage,

transport and basic living cost were met, Sue did not care

about higher pay.Following her passion and researching the mystery of the

Ank Anu were much more important than a few extra

pounds in her pocket.


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10Looking very efficient with her lab coat, glasses and

concentrated expression, Sue stood hunched over the

Peruvian tablet laid out on a large table. A microscope,

several magnifying glasses and stacks of research material

clogged up the remaining space.

The rest of Sue's office bore testimony to her preference for

unobstructed surfaces. A tall bookcase spanning the wall

behind her tidy desk was nearly empty; only a smallcollection of scientific books occupied the deep shelves,

looking entirely lost. The remaining walls were bare except

for a large whiteboard with several symbols and cryptic

annotations drawn in black marker pen.

A small wastepaper basket under the desk and an

umbrella stand by the door were the only items on the floor.

The complete lack of personal items underlined the overallimpression of the austere room: this was a place to work

without distraction.

Sue straightened and arched her back, though only in part

to counter the mounting pain caused by constant bending.

Which, as she well new, could easily be avoided by working

with computer images instead of hunkering over the table.

But Sue preferred the look and feel of the real thing.The inspiration it gave her more than compensated


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the discomfort. No, she admitted to herself. The main reason

she had stopped looking at the tablet was her growing

frustration. After several days spent on interpreting the

symbols, she was not an iota further.

Sue went over to the small window.

It overlooked a pitiful park complete with murky pond

and unenthusiastic fountain. Although not much of a vista,

Sue still appreciated the proximity to nature of sorts. It beat

being enshrouded in exhaust fumes, listening to metal

avalanches roll by. At least the park, pathetic though it was,always held reminders of life beyond work; from trees to

foraging squirrels or a mother playing with her toddler child.

Today, Sue looked out unseeing. The dog chasing a

mallard into the pond did not even register. Instead, her

mind's eye viewed the strange tablet from all angles over and

over. Still no answer.

What she had at first glance thought to be just runes, had

in fact turned out to be a complex jumble of signs of

apparently diverse origin.

Interspersed with strange symbols completely unknown

to Sue, a seemingly random mix of runes and glyphs seemed

to follow the outlines of several interlocking circles, each

with an ancient glyph at its centre.

The glyphs looked Mayan in appearance, although

something about them struck Sue as odd. Not an expert on

the subject matter, she had sent copies to a renowned Mayan

linguist. Hopefully, he would be able to shed some light on it

and get back to her soon.

Of the runes, only very few were known to Sue, and those

she did recognise were from the ancient Etruscan alphabet.


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The rest she had not been able to associate with any known

language, but judging by their style they were closely related

to the Etruscan runes. Those, too, had been sent to an expert.

If her assessment was correct, then the combination of

glyphs and runes in itself was puzzling: what were Latin

American and European ciphers from different eras doing on

the same slab? And what were the strange intermittent

symbols about?

Some seemed to contain elements also found in Egyptian

hieroglyphs, others didnt contain anything familiar. None ofthe scientific literature had shed any light on any of it so far,

nor had any of the experts she had contacted come up with

ideas yet.

Sue wandered over to the whiteboard, wiped it clear and

started drawing some of the mysterious symbols again.

Maybe the physical action of tracing their lines would

give her some new inspiration. Clutching at straws. But whatelse is there?

The sudden ring of the phone startled Sue. To her surprise

it was Nick It was unusual for him to phone her at the office.

In fact, thinking back, the only occasion she could recall was

when their mum had died eighteen months ago.

For a brief moment Sue was worried. Had anything badhappened?

Her fear was quickly dispersed.

Nick enquired how she was, and they soon enjoyed their

usual relaxed banter. Sue assured him that yes, she'd had a

great time at the party, and at least he had not tried to hook

her up with someone short fat and ugly like his previous idea

of her perfect boyfriend. Sue realised there had been a


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particular reason for Nicks call after all when he abruptly

came to the point.

Look, Sue, I need to ask you a favour. His next wordscame out in fast succession, as if to ensure he didnt change

his mind. You know I told you last night about the stats not

making sense? I really need to find out whats at the bottom

of it. Im convinced someones falsifying some of the data.

Since Ive had no joy with the IT department, I decided to

investigate anyway, you know, by myself. So I made a copy

of the log files and Sue wasnt sure shed heard right. You what?

Its not as bad as it sounds, Nicks tone had taken on a

defensive note, but Sue wasnt having any of it.

Nick, thats plain crazy, she hissed into the phone. You

know what theyre like when it comes to security. You told

me yourself they fired people for less. This could cost youyour job!

An audible, dispirited sigh travelled down the line, and

suddenly Sue felt guilty. In a calmer voice she said, Im

sorry, I guess Im just concerned. Repeating herself, she

added, But it could cost you your job.

I know, Nick answered. But this is too important, and

no one else seems interested or believes me.

So what is it you want me to do?

Do you think Mark could check those log files and try to

decrypt them? Would you ask him for me?

Sue frowned. Her brother was surprising her more by the

second. Mark? You dont even like him!

You know thats not true. Its just hes a nice bloke, he


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just appears a bit shallow at times. But when it comes to

computing, I think hes a real whiz. So do you think you

could perhaps ask?

Before Sue got a chance to answer, their exchange was

interrupted by the energetic entrance of Henrik, a brilliant

scientist from Denmark who had got stuck in England after

meeting his future wife during a brief assignment. He noticed

Sue on the phone and started to retreat, but she motioned

him to wait.

Henrik wandered over to the window and casually let hiseyes roam the park.

Sue continued her conversation with Nick. I could, and I

will, but he wont be back until tomorrow night. I cant do it

before then.

What Sue did not add in Henriks presence was that Mark

had gone away for a few days following Sues announcementthat she needed time apart to think things over. She had told

him right after her release from hospital, and when Mark

realised how entirely serious she was, he had left in a huff.

An SMS two hours later had informed Sue of his stay in Paris

until Saturday. An ill-disguised attempt to make her jealous,

but she could not have cared less.

Sue and Nick exchanged a few more words, and whenshe hung up, Henrik turned to address her in his typical

straight-to-the point-manner.

Hi, Sue, just wondering if I could tap your brains for a

mo. You know this book Im working on, I had this idea that

maybe we could his glance caught on the whiteboard

behind Sue. Hey, what's that, Sue? Dont tell me youre into

cults now.


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Sue arched her left eyebrow and threw him a puzzled

look. Pardon? What the devil are you talking about?

Well, you know, those two symbols there? The one onthe right is the logo of the Friends of the Apocalypse.

At least I'm pretty sure it is.

He pointed to a circle radiating five spirally arms, almost

like an abstract galaxy. Inside the circle was an inverted

triangle bisected by a wavy line with an arrow at the bottom.

Friends of the Apocalypse?

Noticing Sue's wide stare of complete incomprehension,

Henrik continued.

It's one of those doomsday cults, you know, like David

Koresh, the world's gonna end type stuff. He spat out the

words, leaving no doubt as to his opinion of such

organisations. Apparently, people from all over the world

are joining but no one seems to know whether its justhundreds, or hundreds of thousands.

If they're so popular, how come I've never heard of

them? Sue looked at him questioningly.

They keep a very low profile, and I think they're well

connected. There's hardly any news coverage, despite the

surrounding controversy. Some bloggers have caught on tothem, but you probably need to know what youre looking

for before you find their posts.

The only reason I know of the FOA is because a friend of

mine joined, and his wife came to me for help. Not that I was

any use. He just left, never to be seen or heard of again.

And youre sure this is their logo?

Positive.


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Sue frowned. If this is the case, it would have to be a

complete coincidence. These symbols are at least 1,900 years

old, in a language no one knows. None of the literature I've

come across mentions this one. In fact, I would have thought

no one's ever seen it before.

Henrik rubbed the bristles on his chin and studied the

symbol again. Well, he finally said amiably. Maybe Im

mistaken after all. They may just look very similar. Although

I couldve sworn theyre identical.

Ill check it out anyway, it wouldnt be the first surprise.For instance, would you believe many of these symbols most

likely came from different continents? Long before it was

thought possible that people could cross the oceans. Anyway,

lets go back to why you

Interrupted by the phone, Sue impatiently picked up the

receiver. After listening for a few moments, she thanked the

caller and gently replaced it. A confused look on her face shestared at the tablet.

The mystery deepens, she said more to herself than to

Henrik. That was the lab. According to their analyses, these

carvings are nearly 12,000 years old.


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11Most people assumed the vast, landscaped grounds

surrounding the Sikin building were just another extravagant

display of success, designed to impress their wealthy,

influential clients. The few employees in know of the truth

were bound by non-disclosure agreements no one in

their right mind would dream of violating, so severe were

the penalties.

Not that they would have wanted to anyway. Sikin tookgreat care in their staff selection to ensure utmost loyalty,

with great success. Which had made it so much harder for

Nick to create copies behind their backs, smuggle them out of

the building and take them home, where he felt they would

be safest until Mark was back.

Nick knew he was taking a huge risk, but he was

committed to Sikin and had to do everything in his power toprevent foul play.

Deep below the reception, he punched his security code

into the small wall mounted touch screen. A small retina

scanner emerged from behind a silver sliding panel, and

Nick moved his head into position. When his identity was

confirmed beyond doubt, the anterior section of the tubular

access chamber opened.


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As soon as Nick was inside, the chamber closed around

him, leaving him barely enough space to move his arms.

Built into the floor was a measuring system validating his

general weight and height, a precaution to ensure no

additional person cheated their way in. The final check was

the verification of Nicks palm and finger prints. He pressed

his hand against an inconspicuous black box next to the exit.

The second door of the chamber slid back with a soft

whooshing noise, finally allowing Nick access to the

underground area beyond.He made his way through long neon-lit corridors,

ignoring the steel doors left and right. Every employee

privileged enough to be allowed down here only ever saw

the facilities immediately connected with their work. Nick

suspected there had to be projects involving biochemical

hazards or other extremely dangerous setups for the security

to be so tight. Certainly the huge biosphere lying ahead,or at least the part Nick was allowed into, did not seem to

warrant it.

Maybe their diligence when it came to safety was part of

Sikins success, Nick reflected. Which made it even more

unbelievable that there could be a computer-related security

breach. Yet by now, Nick was sure this was the only

explanation. Someone had tampered with their key software,or, to be more precise, the data records. What he did not yet

know was why. Nor could he imagine a possible reason.

Nick massaged his temples. He had had another bad

nightmare, and the lack of sleep, coupled with the increasing

work stress, was beginning to get to him.

He suspected there was no longer any point in what hewas doing, but what else made sense? He could not change


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the future, but he could make the most of the present and

ensure things would be as easy as possible for Sue.

How much time was left? Nick wasnt sure.

Turning another dogleg, Nick suddenly stood in front of a

heavy, unmarked metal door. After swiping his card, he was

led into a clearing chamber whose only purpose was to

ensure no accidental escapes from the biosphere.

Nick stepped through to the other side, and the door shut

behind him.

As always, the sight took his breath away. A beautiful,

self-contained world, a miniature Antarctic complete with

small ice floes and emperor penguins.

Nick zipped his parka shut and marched through the

white wonder world to the penguin pen at the far end.

He was looking forward to the daily health check.


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12Beneath a massive sandblasted ship's hull lay the mangled

remains of what appeared to once have been a human being,

most probably a male of Nordic or perhaps Russian origin.

Next to him, in barely better condition, a muscular man

sat bound to a chair. Caked with his own blood, his blonde

hair had taken on a rusty colour.

Sitting on a second chair, out of blood spatters reach, Kato

brushed some invisible dirt spec off his immaculate navyblue suit. Impatience getting the better of him, he turned to

watch Ethan talk on his fancy new mobile.

... Yes, this was the last one. All the shipyards are yours

now... Not sure that's such a good idea, maybe we should

just disappear for a while... Understood. Consider it done.

With an angry gesture, Ethan ended the call and put themobile back in his pocket. The man on the chair gave a low

groan, which was swiftly rewarded with a vicious kick to

the shin.

Shut the fuck up, Ethan seethed. Consider yourself

lucky you're still alive you stupid fuck. Maybe I'll kill you

after all, for wasting so much of our time. Only reason I don't

is the boss still needs you piece of shit for something.


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He turned to Kato.

Looks like we won't be able to enjoy the proceeds of our

hard work just yet. Rona wants us to ensure the start-upphase at the ASSIA shipyard goes smoothly.

Kato raised a questioning eyebrow.

Apparently, the guy who was supposed to run the show

had an unforeseen accident involving a window, a

considerable fall and a cast iron spiked fence which at least

saved him from being cracked open on the pavement. Now

he's in intensive care.

The tone of Ethan's voice said he had no sympathy for

such pathetic idiots.

They found a replacement, but Rona's not sure she can

trust him. We're to go there und run things until they finish

the first vessel.

In other words, admin, Kato commented with distaste.

He might as well have said puke. Next they'll ask us to

run chicken farms.

Ethan shrugged. Let's just get on with it. The money is

good. I don't care if I have to breed chickens, skin someone

alive or watch over some bloody ship project, as long as the

pay is plenty. Ethan temporarily forgot he was notemployed to think. Hell knows what they'll do with them

all anyway. I mean, why would anyone need to pimp

hundreds of oil tankers and container vessels in the space of

a few months?

The fuck do I care, Kato replied drily.


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13Most days, Sue skipped lunch at the canteen, opting for a

short break in her office instead. Not only did a big lunch

make her sleepy, she also preferred getting on with work to

pointless small talk about life in general and office politics in

particular.

Today, she had brought a Marks and Spencer feast

consisting of a bacon sandwich, her favourite carrot and nut

salad, and a strawberry smoothie.To ensure her mind got a break as well, she normally read

one of the online papers, ranging from Financial Times to

Daily Mail, depending on her mood.

Right this minute, Sue was in the mood for easy brain

fodder and had already skimmed her way through several

articles. Having caught up with the latest murder-suicide in

what appeared to be a nationwide trend, she was nowengrossed in yesterday's celebrity fashion disasters.

The perfect antidote for her overworked mind after hours

of research and deduction trying to crack the tablet.

To her astonishment, some story about a particularly

ghastly pink dress with blue flowers and a cartwheel collar

seemed to be immensely popular with readers, judging bytheir plentiful comments.


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Talk about ruffed up. Who reads this trash??

Vaguely disgusted, Sue scrolled down the page, scanning

the side column for something less brain dead, when thephone rang. Her lunch break not yet finished, she briefly

considered leaving it unanswered. But some lab results

where still pending, or it might even be the Mayan linguist

with news on the glyphs.

With a sigh, Sue answered.

As she listened, she felt the blood drain from her face.

A weird sensation engulfed her body, akin to how she

imagined it would feel for her flesh to melt off the bones.

Unable to accept what she had just heard, all she managed

was a weak whisper. Surely, there must be some mistake


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14Nick looked asleep, his face pale but placid.

Her face ashen, Sue watched as the sheet was pulled back

over his face and the gurney returned to its cubicle, a name

tag dangling aloofly from Nicks foot.

Placing a hand on her elbow, Dr. Jenson, Nick's superior,

gently steered Sue to the door, her manner that of an

automaton. They walked to the hospital's run-of-the-mill

cafeteria where he offered her one of the cheap orange chairsbefore getting two paper cups containing something

resembling dishwater.

Remarkably composed, Sue took a tentative sip,

wondering what to say.

She opted for the trite truth. Im glad you came. I dont

think I could have done this alone.Her best friend Mel, who was waiting outside, had offered

to accompany her, but Sue had refused. Not sure what to

expect, she did not want Mel to see Nick in death. Therefore,

it had come as something of a relief when Dr. Jenson had

offered to come along. Although Sue suspected he had his

own reasons,

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