Authors: J. A. Ginegaw
The scientists gasp in amazement as a gleaming codex glimmers in front of each of them. Although barely audible, even Dr. Saddlebirch lets out a small gasp of his own. Before they have the chance to finish gasping and begin grasping, each of my men lays down a pair of silk gloves next to the scientist closest to him. The four codices delivered flawlessly, my soldiers march out of the conference room.
“Please put on these silk gloves, my friends,” I more command than ask. “We just had the codices polished.”
Each obediently does as told. Eyes larger than the saucers that had held our late afternoon tea gawk downward and gloved hands touch the codices as if they are fragile. Faint whispers of disbelief shake the room with the hope that a world we have searched so hard to step into is
finally
at our feet.
I lower the projection screen and dim the lights. No one aside from Admiral Vanderbilt appears to notice. With my digital tablet, I remotely point the projector stick hanging from the ceiling into place and turn it on. A beam of light shoots out from the projector stick and all attention properly falls on me.
“Now,” I say cheerily, “let’s get started. Five priceless pieces of unknown history revealed – if this does not shock the senses, then nothing will. Stored in secret and escorted to Antarctica by me and my men, we are the guardians of these four – now five – codices.”
The stunned quartet of scientists peek down again before looking back up at me.
“Their collection was in no way by accident,” I continue, “but very deliberate. As the keeper of these codices, I will tell you of four secrets only I know. A select few have been told of one, even two of these secrets, but only I know them all.” I take in a deep breath and slowly exhale. “Welcome, gentlemen … my world now yours as well – hold onto your knickers.”
I do not witness
actual
gripping of knickers, but a few hands do slide downward. With a nod toward the projection screen and their eyes obeying, I press on.
“The secrets I promise to reveal are of how each codex now before you fell into my very greedy, very wanting hands. I will start with the tale of how my family came to own the first codex and finish with the finding of the last of the four.”
I tap the screen of my digital tablet and the first slide comes into view.
“The one you see onscreen is my personal favorite: the Mermaid Codex. My best guess along with those of a few others is that Welsh nobles recovered it sometime between AD 1000 and AD 1400. The time somewhat uncertain but the location known, they found the codex at a prehistoric site we all know well: Stonehenge. In the early 1800’s, the House of Rothschild was instrumental in helping the British crown defeat the French during the Napoleonic Wars. The wars over and Napoleon dispatched; Nathan Rothschild desired from Queen Victoria just one treasure in return – this codex. The Crown had held it in secret since first found; the House of Rothschild has kept it hidden ever since.”
With another tap, the next slide shows not a codex, but a grey and black hulking beast the size of a small auto. In an effort to soothe their spinning minds, whispers from my fellow scientists swiftly follow.
“This handsome fellow is an Arachna Majora. Appearing much like a giant tarantula, but with the two massive eyes of a jumping spider, his codex’s story is next. Since its construction, and possibly the reason for it, the Forbidden City in Beijing, China kept the Arachna Majora Codex safe. This lasted from the 15
th
century until 1860. The Second Opium War saw to its removal and again a codex made its way not into my family, but that of
Vanderbilt
.”
Sudden gasps and stunned eyes launch straight for the good Admiral. As if he has already foreseen this, his grandfatherly grin instantly disables these harmless weapons heading his way.
“Sadly,” I continue, “we know little concerning the details of its arrival, what price others paid, or how many died trying to keep or hide it. We only know that, since 1902, the House of Vanderbilt has enjoyed sole possession.”
The next slide I choose is of the Centaur Codex. More gasps, more stunned looks – I very much enjoy giving this covert history lesson. Until now, I felt as if the years of keeping these tales only I knew the full extent of had pulled me into a realm of loneliness few could understand and none would want. The sole steward of these secrets no longer, a sudden, thankful sense of relief sweeps over me.
“The Centaurs are next. In 1931, Marino Gomez busily began the excavation of one of Mexico’s most famous sites. It was here where a young American archeologist assisting him found the Centaur Codex. This American, along with another thief, smuggled the codex to the edge of Mexico’s northern border, and in the blink of an eye, the Great Pyramid of Cholula lost its most striking artifact. Soon after, the Mexican government ‘stole’ it back by way of firing squad. After spies confirmed the government was desperate for money, Frederick Vanderbilt purchased the codex from the indebted Mexicans. In secret, of course. Books detailing how the Vanderbilt family squandered its fortune tall enough to reach into the heavens – they are all wrong. I will not bore you with the exact amount, but the vast majority of the Vanderbilt fortune was indeed the price paid. The fortune gone, yes, but squandered it was not.”
With a final tap to my tablet screen, I reveal the most fearsome creature of our fascinating foursome.
“The last codex is that of the Gryphons. Recovered rather recently from the Great Pyramid at Giza; it was not found, however, where most would guess. In 1992, scientists found a door inside the Queen’s Chamber blocking a shaft. A sweeping event, networks televised the opening of this door to audiences around the world. And millions tuned in. The world watched a robot fail while a select few German and Egyptian archeologists saw discovery triumph. None other than our dear Dr. Leitz led that German expedition. The Gryphon Codex taken from its tomb, it would not stay safe for long. The Arab Spring of 2011 – hopes for democracy soon to become more oppression set Egypt ablaze. Upon the overthrow of the government and the Gryphon Codex in great peril, Alfred called me in desperation. My soldiers and I departed for Cairo within a few hours of this call, found our chance under the cover of dark and disorder, and rightly took it. In the depths of that lawless mess, we rescued from Egypt its most ––”
“
Stole
from Egypt, I think you mean,” Saddlebirch interrupts in a loud voice as if he is the class bully. “If by chance you are looking for a more fitting word – just in case.”
I do not care for him much, but how this American speaks fascinates me. When Saddlebirch unleashes his quick, biting wit, he gains the uncanny ability to mask his usual southern drawl. Joining the group scowl with the others in his direction, I say nothing in response and hurriedly finish my presentation.
“As I already had one, to gain possession of this second codex was the easy part. The Arachna Majora and Centaur ones, however, were much more difficult to come by. After a good deal of reconnaissance and drawing up a master plan, I executed my scheme – flawlessly of course – and married Admiral Vanderbilt’s grandson last year.” The Admiral chuckles at this. “
This
is how I now possess the other two codices I did not have already. Two plus two plus the one we found today … our work can
finally
begin.”
I turn off the projector stick, increase the light once more, and allow a long pause to pass. Three scientists sport gaping mouths as if bewildered codfish. One, of course, does not.
As Saddlebirch runs his doubting eyes over me, I can feel him attempt to size up both my motivations
and
me. Aside from his single outburst, he has spent much of the time appearing as if deep in thought. Thought that now breaks the silence with a slow, drawn out giggle. This giggle then becomes outright laughter. Finally able to contain this gurgling idiocy, words spill out from the goofy grin Chance’s laughs leave behind.
“Okay ma’am, let me get this straight. First, we have this huge codex covered in gold with what I guess has to be close to a thousand copper plates inside it. Buried under more than a mile of solid ice most believe has been in that exact same spot for millions of years –
I don’t think so
. Second, we have four more of these codices, but written by mythical creatures that do not, nor did ever, exist. And to top it all off, they were scattered and hidden in some of the most famous historical sites from around the world? Come on now –
really
?”
He glances down at the Arachna Majora Codex in front of him. Next, he leans back in his chair as if lounging on the beach and puts his hands behind his head.
“From where I come from,” Saddlebirch sneers, “this is all nothing more than an elaborate hoax! Reverse our roles and I present this to you: What would
you
think?”
With a self-congratulatory nod to himself, he takes in the blank faces of the other scientists. The proof from my presentation in plain view, they simply let our favorite babbling idiot continue to play the fool. No one else says a word. Curiously, Chance keeps his gaze away from the fidgeting Admiral. As I begged of him earlier, Admiral Vanderbilt is letting me handle Saddlebirch no matter how much it burns him up to do so. I feel a sly grin, forced forward by a mind eager to engage the cowboy out in the open, creep across my face. Ready to respond, but biting my tongue to keep it still, he finishes with a bang.
“You may have tricked the others, but you can’t trick me –
these are fakes
!”
The Admiral growls something through gritted teeth I cannot make out. His tone as deep as an abyss, I am not sure anyone else even heard it. The others ready to rip into Saddlebirch as if they are piranhas and he a clueless cow bathing in the Amazon ––
“And you are quite right for suggesting such!” I answer back cheerily. This no doubt catches the others off guard. I step to the right and start to make my way around the conference room table. “In a way, you have a very good point, Dr. Saddlebirch. You
should
question what I show you as well as my motivations for doing so. To be perfectly honest, I am a bit disappointed in the rest of you. Not one challenge, simply taking in what I say as truth – men of science rarely do this, am I right?” I stop at the far end of the table directly across from Admiral Vanderbilt. “Grand men of science cloaked in an illusion they can see, touch, and admire – how do we determine what is real, what is not?”
Hungrily, greedily, I watch bulging eyes gaze at the four codices and try to imagine what is going through their minds. These ancient pillars of gleaming brilliance having stuffed a bevy of explosive thoughts inside the scientists’ swelling brains, my hand halfway into my pocket….
Do I dare light the fuse?
“Three with direct knowledge of at least one codex, three with none – perhaps this
other
treasure can cast our deciding vote.”
I let the blood red gem with the handsome, thick necklace slip off my fingertips and onto the gleaming table. With a gentle push, the jewel glides across the table in Saddlebirch’s direction. The polished surface as smooth as ice, it bumps softly into the bottom of the vault holding the Arachna Majora Codex and is still.
“Tell me,
cowboy
, do you see any jewelers in this room? Take a good look. Does
this
appear to be a hoax?”
Saddlebirch’s face turns hard. “A big ol’ ruby on a pretty gold chain – so what? I have never seen one that big, but know they exist.”
“That is no ruby.…” Dr. Leitz gasps.
“It’s a diamond.” Dr. Ravensdale slowly rises from his chair and leans over the table for a closer look. “A red diamond easily larger than any I know of, such a diamond would be worth untold millions!” He peeks up at me and shakes his head in disbelief. “Where did you find this?”
“In the world that existed before the one we now know,” I answer dreamily, as if in a trance.
“That jewel was buried with the Sapien Codex,” the Admiral adds quickly. “Up against one of the granite walls of the vault, it could not be seen by the cameras we watched through.”
As do the others, Saddlebirch gawks at the crimson gem barely a hand away from his own. His fingers look as if they wish to grasp it, but hold back in the fear that to do so would suddenly make truthful all I have said to this point.
“Not only is this no hoax,” Alistair says breathlessly as he sits back down, “but only two conclusions can be made. Either the authors of these five codices came from around the world and settled
here
, beneath us, or they were here first and, for whatever reason, left and scattered about the globe. If only one, maybe two, of the codices existed, I would very much be on Dr. Saddlebirch’s side. But of what I see, I believe this is all
very
real.”
As if he speaks these words himself, Alfred nods the entire time. A bead of sweat now running down the side of the cowboy’s face ––
Is his frosted glare starting to melt a bit?
“I do not have all the answers, my friends, and have just as many questions as do all of you. Having poured over these four codices for countless hours, I can only tell you that they were written in three distinct languages. The Mermaid and Centaur codices share the same language, but the Arachna Majora and Gryphon ones each have their own. I have tried in vain to decipher them, but to this point, know so little. I can read what the covers tell us only because they all request the same. ‘Find our siblings’, ‘learn our secrets’ – we have done this. The Sapien Codex our last hope; could this just be some wicked taunt, or will it help us unlock a hidden door to the past?”
“I want to know,” Dr. Korzhak blurts. His starry-eyed look tells me he is just as excited as I am to translate the codices. “Please, please do what you can to discover what they say. I have faith this is real too.”
“Still … there
is
the matter of the ancient ice below,” Dr. Leitz ponders aloud. If Antarctica has been under an ice sheet for millions of years, do you suggest that this world we are searching for existed before then?”
I quickly recall my many philosophical discussions with Dr. Ravensdale and immediately shake my head. “No, not at all. I simply refuse to accept blindly what a few geologists say is truth, despite evidence to the contrary.”
The word ‘geologist’ spoken, Alistair springs into action. “Western Antarctica, where we are now,” he begins, “is much different than its eastern brother. The west is much younger, much more unstable. This land – this bedrock – beneath us is actually an island approximately 640 kilometers long by 320 kilometers wide. In terms of miles …” he looks to be thinking hard for a moment, “400 by 200. The massive weight of the ice sheet above the bedrock currently pushes it down into the sea about a kilometer. The ice cores do indeed suggest the ice is very old – many hundreds of thousands of years at least. However, let us remember what an ice sheet is: a
moving
glacier. Constantly in motion, ice cores say one thing, so close to the coast as we are, I will suggest another – the frozen ice we stand upon arrived at this point much more recently than thought.”
“Just how recently are we talkin’?” Saddlebirch’s tone still owns a mocking tilt to it, but at least he now engages the conversation with a hint of sincerity. “I mean, massive amounts of ice don’t just come and go.”
“Oh, but they very much do!” I shoot back excitedly. “They have before and can do so again! Consider the Last Glacial Maximum
[8]
. Ice sheets even thicker than the one below us had spread across northern Europe and North America – swallowing Canada whole. Yet here we are today; do you see ice sheets covering London? Oslo? How about Toronto or New York? In the case of the last Ice Age, those massive glaciers both came and went within a few thousand years. We know this as truth, yet accept as
pure
fact
– untainted, undeniable – that this ice sheet here has been just as it is now for millions of years.”
“Dr. Rothschild and I have discussed this on many occasions,” Alistair breaks in. “The Last Glacial Maximum came and went within the geological blink of an eye, yet time stood still here?”
No one offers an answer so I steal the conversation back. “Another issue that is as if gospel, yet utterly ridiculous, is this fantasy many historians have in regards to history itself. Knowledge and progress of humankind as some curve that always slopes upward – I say to you all,
impossible
! Take a second century Roman and drop him into his home city in the 12th century – he will curse you until his end! Marbled glory and the majesty of Rome little more than ruins and filth a thousand years later – where is our upward progress now? The Necropolis at Giza, home of the Great Pyramid and from where the Gryphon Codex was recovered; more upward progress, yes?”
I look at them all individually and receive five firmly shaken heads. Saddlebirch’s resistance bloodied and beaten, I move in for the kill.
“Exactly, my friends. After the Egyptians built the pyramids, we should have witnessed even greater structures, yet none exist. Look around the world – we see this everywhere! For centuries, Troy was just a mythical city. Today, we have ten layers of the Trojan city built on top of itself. The Antikythera Mechanism, Baghdad batteries, giant stone balls of Costa Rica, buildings with interlocking segments in South America, need I go on? Our world stuffed with finds created hundreds of years before those in the area should have known how – these came to be
because …
?” I pause after asking this question just begging for an answer none of us knows.
“A great number of mysteries that have little to do with the physical exist as well,” Dr. Leitz adds excitedly. “How is it that every advanced civilization has its own flood myth similar to others half a world away? What was formerly believed to be tales both in the Bible and in other ancient works, with each passing year, we find proof that more and more ‘myths’ are indeed true history.”
As the four of us take turns speaking, Admiral Vanderbilt and Dr. Korzhak simply swivel their heads back and forth.
“Indeed. My codices, that gem and its necklace –
none of this
is a hoax. Those creatures we see on the covers were real and walked the ground beneath us. I do not know how, I do not know when, I just know. I can only pray that the Sapien Codex they left behind deems us worthy to tell its story in a deciphered manner we can all understand.”
Can we please stop talking and start translating!
“These words,” Saddlebirch drawls, “hope – believe – pray, for scientists, y’all seem to own a surprising amount of faith.” He speaks to us all, but looks directly at me.
“And for a learned man who has had a mountain of evidence shoved in his face,” I snap back, “you seem to own a serious lack of it.”
That he smiles – gingerly, but he does – right after I say this gives me confidence that the mush inside his thick as crystal skull is finally moving in the right direction. In turn, I smile back my appreciation. I walk toward Admiral Vanderbilt and now stand between him and Dr. Ravensdale.
“The miracle in all this is not so much what others wrote inside them,” Dr. Leitz muses, “but that the codices themselves survived. Made of gold and overlaid with precious gems, had any of them landed in
anything
but learned hands, who knows what their fate would have been?”
“If you really think about it,” the Admiral chimes in, “the
true
miracle is that none of these codices became some dead broad’s jewelry collection.”
The entire room chuckles at this. Even Chance.
“Well said, Grandfather.” I take in a deep breath. “Faith, the greatest paradox among many we meet each day, you believe what your eyes cannot see. Yet right here in front of us, our eyes
do
see! In less than a day, any in the past who owned a codex could have scraped off its jewels and melted down the gold. Yet none ever did.
Something
led the men who collected these codices to believe they owned a greater purpose than their eyes could see, could ever hope to see. Greed led such men to hide these treasures, yet each tempered his greed enough to keep them as originally molded – for just a moment, consider this! Easy to corrupt, wealth-loving men hid them. This is true, yet each believed that the codex in his care held an unknown, but near-perfect purpose.” I throw my hands into the air. “Irony bathes itself in these waters.”