Jade Ihara Adventures Omnibus

THE JADE IHARA ADVENTURES OMNIBUS

By David Wood and Sean Ellis

ORACLE

Sometimes, knowing the future is not enough.... For more than a millennium, the Oracle of Delphi guided kings and conquerors with stunningly accurate visions of the future. But, with the rise of a new God, the Oracle faded from memory. Now, the power of the Oracle is about to change the world once more.

While excavating a previously uncharted passage beneath the ancient city of Teotihuacan, archaeologist Jade Ihara makes a startling discovery: enormous stone spheres, arranged to resemble a model of the solar system, slowly orbiting a golden sun. Even more fantastic, when Jade attempts to move one of the spheres, she catches a glimpse of the future...a premonition that will save her life and launch her into a desperate race to unlock the mysterious secret of the oracular orbs. Jade is accompanied by her old friend, former Navy SEAL Pete Professor Chapman, and pursued by a relentless secret society intent on burying the secret of the Oracle forever.

Return to the world of the Dane Maddock Adventures in the first book of a thrilling new series, as Jade crosses the globe in pursuit of the secret of the Oracle.

CHANGELING

You can’t always recognize the face of your enemy.

Two thousand years ago, the legendary mathematical genius Archimedes was poised on the brink of the greatest discovery in human history when his life was brutally snuffed out. His murder has never been explained.

While investigating the strange Paracas skulls—believed by some to be the remains of extraterrestrial explorers—archaeologist Jade Ihara receives an unexpected visit from an old foe seeking her help against entities he calls Changelings and their plot to manufacture a false chapter of human history.

Hounded by radical extremists led by Atash Shah—a man bent on becoming the Mahdi prophesied to unite the Islamic world—and haunted by the faceless puppetmasters who secretly control the world, Jade must follow the trail of clues to uncover a deadly truth that has been erased from history.

Can she solve the mystery of Archimedes’ murder, or will she become the next victim of the conspiracy to hide the truth?

EXILE

Jade Ihara is caught in a centuries old power struggle between a slave cult who believes she might be the incarnation of the goddess of liberty, and a secret cabal with plans for world domination. Can she unravel the mystery of the Cult of Veritas and find their sacred relics before it’s too late?  David Wood and Sean Ellis deliver another action-packed thriller that will keep you on the edge of your seat! Fans of Indiana Jones, Tomb Raider, Rogue Angel, and Dane Maddock will love Exile!

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Oracle- A Jade Ihara Adventure

Copyright 2014 by David Wood

Changeling- A Jade Ihara Adventure

Copyright 2015 by David Wood

Exile- A Jade Ihara Adventure

Copyright 2017 by David Wood

Published by Adrenaline Press

www.adrenaline.press

Adrenaline is an imprint of Gryphonwood Press

www.gryphonwoodpress.com

These books are works of fiction. All characters, places, and events are products of the authors’ imaginations, or are used fictitiously.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy from for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

CONTENTS

ORACLE

CHANGELING

EXILE

ORACLE- A JADE IHARA ADVENTURE

By David Wood and Sean Ellis

T he distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.—Albert Einstein

PROLOGUE

CHOICE

Manila, Spanish East Indies (the Philippines) —1593

WHAT AM I doing here?

It was not the first time Gil Perez had asked himself the question, and the answer that always bubbled up in his mind was no more satisfying this time.

You have to be somewhere. Is this really so terrible?

In truth, his situation was not terrible by any stretch of the imagination. He had a place to live, a salary, he never wanted for food, and he even had a purpose, albeit not the one he had imagined when he had chosen the life of a soldier.

Therein lay the problem. As a boy, he craved adventure. The thought of becoming a laborer, scratching out a hard, miserable existence, had been utterly repulsive to him. He dreamed of escaping a life of drudgery, journeying across the seas to fight bravely in the King’s service, and finding fortune and romance. What better way to start down that path than by trading the plow for the sword? He had run away from home and joined the army, expecting to immediately be whisked away to some far off land. The conquest of New Spain had only just begun, and everywhere there were rumors of a rich but wild land, where savages worshipped demon gods and gold flowed in the rivers.

He had quickly learned that the life of a soldier was not measured in the number of battles fought, but in the long—the endlessly long—doldrums of day-to-day routine. He had indeed been taken far from home, an ocean voyage marked by long periods off excruciating boredom with a few brief interstices of absolute terror. That journey, in the retinue of Governor General Gomez Perez Dasmarinas had brought him here, to Manila, where he had been assigned to the Palace Guard.

Not that the life of a Palace Guardsman was always boring, especially not in the territories of New Spain. He had survived more than a few skirmishes in defense of the Governor General’s political agenda—the suppression of the Audiencia, an uprising in Zambales—but like the storms and pirate attacks during the sea voyage, these were merely fleeting moments of excitement in an otherwise dreary routine of service. Indeed, it seemed that being a Guardsman meant that he was passed over when opportunities for adventure arose. Why, only just a few days earlier, the Governor General had set out on a grand expedition to capture the Spice Islands...and yet here Gil was, guarding the governor’s empty house.

With a sigh, he shifted his arquebus to a more comfortable spot on his shoulder and leaned back against the wall. At times like this, he often allowed himself to speculate about what might have happened if he had made different choices along the way. It was a foolish indulgence; one could never truly know what might have been. Attempting to live in an imagined alternative life only blinded a person to opportunities that might arise in the life actually being lived. Nevertheless, he could not help but wonder what might have happened if he had acted on the impulse to stay behind in Mexico.

His friend, Alvaro Diego Menendez Castillo, had done just that. Eager for action and weary of the long journey that would only take him farther from home, Alvaro instead signed on with one of the treasure galleons due to sail the pirate infested waters of the Spanish Main, and had urged Gil to do the same.

Gil had chosen to stay the course. Unlike his friend, who was descended from a noble family, Gil was of common stock, and worse, a bastard. Though he would strike dead any man who dared speak a word against his mother, he knew the truth: his mother had been a harlot, and his father—if his own swarthy complexion was any indication—had probably been a Moorishman. He had left Spain to escape the limitations of his birth. Returning, even as a triumphant protector of the treasure fleet, would mean a return to that life. In the final calculation, he had elected to reject Alvaro’s seductive plan, and continued on to Manila.

But what if...?

Where would I be right now if I had gone with Alvaro?

In all likelihood, he would be dead. He had heard naught of Alvaro in the four years since their parting. Had the young man been lost in a pirate attack or fallen in battle with the English?

Perhaps I am a coward, Gil thought, and if that were true, then there was no better place for him than here, guarding an empty house.

A disturbance at the gate caused him to leave off his self-piteous musings and he straightened, craning his head to see what was happening. A small group of riders, covered in road dust, had arrived and whatever tidings they bore seemed dire indeed. Gil felt an impulse to leave his post and inquire about the news. But no, he would hear of it soon enough.

Soon proved to be an understatement. Within minutes, a runner arrived. The Governor General has been killed, the breathless messenger said. Assassinated by Chinese mutineers aboard his own ship. Be on your guard.

Assassinated! The news shocked Gil. The Governor General was a good man and a strong leader. Yet secretly, Gil felt a measure of relief that the deed had occurred far from Manila, and that he had not been included in the force that had gone out with Perez Dasmarinas.

I am a coward, he realized, embarrassed, and sank against the sturdy palace wall.

What am I doing here?

Gil Perez watched the guttering flame of his lamp, wondering how much longer he would have to finish writing his story.

He wasn’t sure why he felt such a compulsion to set the words to paper; it wasn’t as if anyone would ever read them. He was alone, trapped in the encroaching darkness. He would soon be dead and no one would ever hear his final confession.

And what was his sin?

Pride. Yes, that was it. His pride had led him to reject the wisdom of the course he had earlier set out upon four years earlier. He had made a foolish, impulsive choice, recklessly choosing to follow Alvaro on a quest for adventure and excitement, and it had led him, inevitably, to this benighted tomb.

Oh, there had been adventure and excitement aplenty, but that was of little consolation now. He would soon be dead; there was no escaping it.

He bent closer to the parchment, letting his eyes drift over his account of this final adventure. His knowledge of letters was one good thing that had come of his decision to accompany Alvaro, though that too seemed to count for little now. It was just one of the many things he would willingly trade for a chance to undo that fateful choice.

During the course of his travels, he had occasionally wondered what life might have awaited him had he refused Alvaro’s invitation. Now, he knew the answer. A dull life, true, but a life that would not end in suffocating darkness.

If I could turn back the days and choose again, I would choose that life, he promised himself.

That was the worst part of knowing.

I have gazed upon the life that might have been, he read aloud, his voice barely a whisper, as one might gaze through a window. It is there, so close yet just out of reach. If only I could open the window and step through, I would.

He sighed. Regret seemed a poor way to end this confession, but what else did he have, especially when confronted with the outcome of his choice.

If only I could open the window....

His thoughts were muddled, perhaps the effects of the stale air, but...why couldn’t he open the window? Or smash through it with a stone?

He closed the book and slipped it beneath his waistcoat, then carefully lifted the lamp. It would expire soon, no doubt about that, but he needed its light only a few seconds more. Just long enough to traverse the darkness and reach...

The window!

There it was. As he got close, he began to see that other place—that other life. He set the lamp down, inadvertently dousing its flame, but now he could see by the light of another world.

He placed his hands against the slowly-turning orb, and sensations flooded through him. He was not just seeing that other world now, but experiencing it in its totality: sounds and smells, the weight of a gun on his shoulder and a morion helmet atop his head.

I choose this life, he whispered, closing his eyes. Lord, in thy mercy, let this life be mine.

I am a coward.

The thought came unbidden into his head, as if whispered by someone else.

He sagged against the wall, and suddenly felt fresh air rushing into his lungs. A breeze—warm tropical air—drifted across his face.

He opened his eyes.

It worked.

Thank you, Lord—

A low groaning sound silenced his prayer of thanks. He looked around, trying to find the source of noise, which was growing in intensity, but the world he beheld was unchanged...no, there was a change. Darkness was swirling around him like smoke, enveloping him, sucking him back through the open window. He reached out, trying to find something to hold onto, but it was too late.

Gil Perez opened his eyes and shuddered, trying to shake off the chill memory of the...what was it? A waking dream? A vision?

He looked around, seeking solace in the solidity of the real world, but everything was wrong. Nothing was as he remembered it. The palace walls, the stone battlements beneath his feet...all real, but...wrong.

It was dark. The stars shone brightly overhead, yet his last recollection was of standing the mid-afternoon watch,

I am still dreaming, he thought. That must be it. In a moment, I will wake up and find myself back on the wall.

He felt a twinge of guilt for having fallen asleep at his post. Perhaps he had contracted some tropical disease. Yes, that would make sense. His strange vision was some kind of fever dream. He was delirious. The captain of the guard would surely understand.

You there!

The shout startled him. The voice was unfamiliar, the accent odd. Gil straightened as if preparing himself for an inspection, and turned to find three soldiers striding toward him. He did not recognize any of them. Even their attire was strange.

Who are you? barked the man in the lead. What are you doing here?

Gil studied the strange faces and the even stranger apparel, wondering what to make of the men. They were soldiers, there was no doubt of that, yet they clearly were not part of the Palace Guard, nor even part of the garrison stationed at Fort Santiago.

Could this perhaps have something to do with the death of the Governor General? Was some visiting government official trying to seize power?

If so, what did duty require him to do?

I am Gil Perez of the Palace Guard.

The lead soldier advanced until he stood nose to nose with Gil. I am the Captain of the Guard, and I have never seen you before in my life.

Gil was shocked by the man’s statement. This most certainly was not Captain Licenciado Pedro de Rojas. Sir, I have been serving in the Palace Guard for over three years. Ever since I arrived in Manila.

The captain took a step back and regarded Gil warily. Manila? Are you drunk or mad? Or are you perhaps possessed by a devil? Manila is three thousand leagues from here.

"Three thousand?" I am dreaming. In a moment, I will wake up. Where am I?

"This is Cuidad de Mexico, said the captain. And you are under arrest."

CHANCE

Cessy, France—2011

Paul Dorion paused at the foot of the stairwell, gazing up at the CMS—the Compact Muon Solenoid—with almost reverential awe. He felt like a pilgrim, visiting the Holy Land or Mecca, standing in a place where history had been made.

No, not just history. Miracles.

The very existence of the CMS was a sort of modern miracle. It had taken ten years and the combined efforts of nearly four thousand scientists, to design and build the twelve and a half thousand ton detector, disassemble it into fifteen manageable sections which could be lowered into a manmade cavern, and then reassemble it to tolerances less than the thickness of a human hair. For all its complexity, the CMS was really nothing more than an enormous camera, taking pictures of things that no human eye would ever—could ever—behold.

While it was true that the Large Hadron Collider had not yet accomplished the much publicized goal of identifying the elusive Higgs boson—the so-called God particle responsible for differentiating other high energy particles in the instant following the Big Bang—the simple fact of the LHC’s existence and operation was an achievement on the order of reaching the moon.  In the twenty-seven kilometer long tunnel, protons—the basic elemental building block of everything that could be seen and touched—were accelerated almost to the speed of light and then smashed together in a collision that replicated, at scale, the creation of the universe. When the accelerated proton beams met, annihilating each other in an explosion of sub-atomic particles, the invisible event was recorded by one of two general purpose detectors situated at opposite points along the circumference of the LHC: ATLAS, just over the border in Switzerland near the headquarters of the European Organization for Nuclear Research (CERN) and—Paul’s pride and joy—the CMS.

As far as Paul Dorion was concerned, that was a lot more impressive than walking on water. And it all happened right here, right where he was standing.

A bemused voice snapped him out of his reverie. Are you going to do any work today? Or should I just leave you to your gawking?

Paul felt a twinge of irritation as he turned to look at his co-worker and fellow researcher Lauren Hayes. She was smiling, but that was not necessarily a good indicator of the intention behind her words. He could never tell when Lauren was joking. Maybe it was some inherent cultural incompatibility—he was French and she was from London—or maybe it was something even more fundamental. Regardless of the explanation, his track record for judging her moods was a record of failure that verged on being statistically impossible. When he took her seriously, she would tell him to lighten up; when he thought she was joking, she would throw up her hands in exasperation. Even when he second-guessed himself, he was always wrong. It was enough to make him wonder if her ambiguity was intentional.

Sorry, he said, offering no explanation.

Lauren was an attractive women by any measure, and among the predominately male community of scientists and technicians at CERN, was frequently the object of libidinous desire. Perhaps that, more than anything, contributed to Paul’s inability to read her. Despite the romantic reputation of his countrymen, he had a mixed track record with women, and his uncertainty sometimes came across as aloofness. With respect to Lauren and the fact that they had to work together every day, this was probably a safeguard; better to maintain a professional distance.

I’ll start at the top he told her, still avoiding her gaze.

She laughed. That’s what a girl likes to hear.

What does that mean? Paul shook his head and started up the stairs to the top of the detector while Lauren moved to the base of the enormous ring-shaped barrel and began her inspection.

The CMS was designed to make observations across a wide spectrum of activity, but Paul’s work—and Lauren’s as well—focused on the detection of muons, large but short-lived elementary particles that decayed to produce electrons and neutrinos. Like all subatomic particles, much of what was known about muons was theoretical, but knowledge of their existence dated back to the 1930s. Muons could pass through matter without interacting with it, which made them ideal for seeing through solid objects. The muons created by particle collisions in the LHC were measured using a three-fold system of detection situated in the outermost layer of the CMS, and now that the collider was offline for maintenance, Paul’s task was to check the detectors and replace the units as needed. It was a time-consuming chore, but necessary to the larger goal of producing useful results, and if working at CERN had taught Paul anything, it was the importance of patience. Physics experiments required years of intensive preparation and observation.

At the top of the stairs, he moved out onto a scaffold erected across the top of the barrel. The tedious but exacting job of removing the endcap disks to get at the cathode strip chambers helped him get his mind off the perplexing riddle of Lauren Hayes, and he was soon lost in his work.

Paul!

The shout startled him, kicking him out of autopilot mode. He looked over the edge of the scaffold to see Lauren, gazing up at him, hands on hips in what might have been either a stern or flirtatious pose. Yes?

I said, do you want to break for coffee?

Coffee? So soon? We just got started.

She rolled her eyes. It’s nearly eleven.

Eleven o’clock? He really had gotten lost in the work. Sure. Be right down.

He set down his tools and hopped to his feet, but suddenly felt lightheaded. Darkness descended on him like a storm cloud and he barely had time to kneel down before the world dissolved completely in a haze.

Head rush. I stood up too quickly.

He stayed down, waiting for his blood pressure to normalize, but with each passing second, his connection to reality seemed to slip further away. He had no sense of his body anymore, didn’t know if he was still kneeling or if he had collapsed in a senseless heap.

Then, just as quickly, he was drawn back to consciousness by someone shaking him gently, calling his name. Paul? Paul are you all right?

The voice was achingly familiar. It sounded just like....

He opened his eyes and jerked as if touching a live wire.

Lauren? It was Lauren, but how could that be?

Her face creased with concern. Paul, are you all right? she repeated. You fainted.

It couldn’t be Lauren. Lauren was dead. She had died in a mountain climbing accident two weeks earlier. He had attended her funeral, for God’s sake. He had stood in front of the urn with her ashes. He had....

The memories were so vivid that it took a moment to separate them from the reality of where he was.

I am in the CMS, he realized. Lauren and I came down here to check the detectors. But that was weeks ago, wasn’t it? Before the accident? Before the funeral?

He took a deep breath. No, none of that happened. I passed out, I had a weird dream. In a moment, everything will be back to normal.

I’m fine, he managed to say. Just stood up too fast.

Lauren continued to look down at him, one hand resting on his shoulder. Her touch felt strange, and not just because it was the first time she had ever touched him, ever showed something approaching actual concern.

He felt as if he was being touched by a ghost.

I’m fine, he repeated, shrugging away from her and rising to his feet.

Careful, she warned. Don’t get up too fast or it will happen again.

No. I’m all right now. He did his best to smile. Let’s go have that coffee.

You’re sure? She continued to regard him anxiously. You need to be more careful. You could have fallen.

It’s not that far to the bottom.

It’s far enough. Did you know that falling is the second leading cause of accidental death?

The word death sent a chill through him. How do you know that?

I’ve done my homework. I’m a mountain climber. She gave a coy shrug. Well, almost. I haven’t actually climbed any mountains. Yet. But I’m going to climb Chamonix this weekend.

Chamonix. Paul felt the darkness start to swirl again. He lurched for the stairs, gripped the rail.

Chamonix. That was where Lauren had died in his...memory? Dream? Premonition?

He held himself erect, struggling to catch his breath. Lauren, don’t go to Chamonix.

Her concern transformed into something approaching umbrage. What?

Mountain climbing is dangerous. Don’t go.

Gods, not you too. You sound like my mum. She pursed her lips together and shook her head. In case you haven’t been paying attention, you’re the one who’s having trouble with high places.

I know. It’s just that—

She waved her hand, cutting him off. I’m going for a coffee. You can do whatever you like. She spun on her heel and stomped down the stairs, not looking back.

As he watched her depart, Paul wondered what had prompted his outburst. His certitude about the realness of what he remembered had not diminished, but belief alone was not enough to make it real. He was a rational being, believing only in what he could observe and measure and quantify. Whatever else it was, his perception of Lauren’s death was not real if only for the simple reason that she was still alive.

A premonition then?

Paul did not believe in premonitions. Fortune telling and psychic mumbo-jumbo was just trickery.

Still, why would I imagine Lauren dying in a climbing accident when I had no idea that she was even interested in mountaineering?

It was a coincidence. It had to be. There was no other rational explanation.

Nevertheless, as the week passed, his dread of what might happen increased. It was not merely the ominous expectation of what might happen to Lauren. For her sake, he certainly hoped that the foreseen calamity would not occur, but the reason for his anxiety went much deeper.

If something did happen to Lauren at Chamonix—if what he had imagined or envisioned or...pre-remembered really did come to pass, what would that mean for his understanding of the world?

Everything had a rational explanation. That was not merely an article of faith for him; he had seen it proven true, again and again. Were there things that science did not understand? Absolutely. But to catch a glimpse of the future? How was that possible? How could he explain it in a way that squared with his knowledge of the universe and space-time and causal relationships?

And why had it happened to him?

If something happened to Lauren, would he be able to explain it away as a coincidence?

And if nothing happened, what then?

PART ONE: WALLS

ONE

TEOTIHUACAN, MEXICO—PRESENT Day

This is why I love being an archaeologist, thought Jade Ihara as she stared across Calzada de los Meurtos—the Avenue of the Dead—at the massive structure, known as the Pyramid of the Sun. Because she had spent so much of her professional career digging holes in the middle of nowhere, sifting dirt and, if she was lucky, finding a potsherd or two, she welcomed any chance to work a site like this, a place full of both history and mystery. It was a way of recharging her batteries. Lord knows, I could use that right now.

The invitation to join an ongoing investigation at the Pyramid of the Sun could not have come at a better time for her, both professionally and personally. It was a chance to get back to her roots, at least in terms of her career as an archaeologist specializing in Pre-Columbian American cultures.

Despite being one of the largest and most thoroughly studied sites on earth, very little was known about the origins of Teotihuacan and the people who first lived there. Even the names given to the city and its monumental pyramids were the product of later inhabitants. Teotihuacan was a Nahuatl word that meant City of the Gods and was the name given the place by the Aztecs who discovered and occupied it half a millennium after it had been abandoned by its builders. No one knew where the Teotihuacanos came from, why they built massive monuments—the Pyramid of the Sun was the third largest pyramid in the world—or why they disappeared. The chance to solve that enduring mystery, or at the very least, shed some light on it, was one of the main reasons Jade had jumped at the chance to join the dig.

She strode across the broad north-south thoroughfare where Aztec priests had once paraded sacrificial victims before throngs of bloodthirsty citizens, and ascended to the Plaza del Sol, the courtyard that abutted the western edge of the pyramid. Up close, Jade could see the individual stones that comprised the pyramid. Unlike the pyramids of Egypt, these structures had been built with small irregular chunks of rock, sealed together with limestone mortar. Jade knew that, in its heyday, the pyramid had been coated with a limestone veneer and painted with elaborate murals of feathered gods, priests and victorious warriors. The construction of the pyramids had been a massive undertaking, requiring centuries of focused cooperative effort, and had placed an extraordinary drain on the natural resources of the region. The deforestation of the surrounding landscape to fire limestone kilns was believed to be a major contributing factor to the decline of the city, but that was just one more theory that, while plausible, would never fully be proven.

Dr. Ihara!

Jade lowered her gaze from the pyramid to find a middle-aged man in khakis and a dress shirt, with a canvas duffel bag slung over one shoulder. She stepped forward and took his proffered hand. You must be Dr. Acosta, she said.

Jorge Acosta, a professor of Pre-Columbian art history, presently serving as curator in residence at the on-site museum, was the project coordinator, and the man who had hired her on after a team member had been called away by a family emergency. The excavation at the Pyramid of the Sun was only one of many archaeological investigations going on in the ancient city, and it was Acosta’s job to ensure that the cultural sanctity of the site was preserved, and all relevant laws obeyed.

Welcome to Teo, Dr. Ihara. His English was impeccable, without even a trace of an accent. I imagine you’re eager to get right to work.

Please, call me Jade. His smile slipped a notch and Jade realized that she had committed a minor faux pas.

Smooth move, Jade, she thought. Somebody loves his title. This is why I hate being an archaeologist.

At least when digging holes in the middle of nowhere, she didn’t have to deal with the fragile egos of academicians.

I of course will continue to call you Dr. Acosta, she hastily added, smiling and doing her level best to keep her tone free of sarcasm.

Acosta diplomatically changed the subject. We were quite fortunate that you were available on such short notice.

Actually, I’m the one who got lucky. I just finished some work in Japan and was looking for... She paused, not sure quite what she meant to say. Something different? Something to keep me busy? Something to take my mind off him? A challenge.

Japan? That’s a rather strange place for an expert on early American cultures to be working.

You’re telling me, Jade muttered.  Her work in Japan, specifically at the Yonaguni monument near Okinawa, had been a roller coaster of excitement—for which she had a healthy appetite—and drama—something she had lost her taste for. Her research had been pivotal in battling a threat from the international quasi-religious conspiracy known as the Dominion, ultimately making the difference in thwarting a Dominion plot to throw the world into chaos. Unfortunately, it had also meant working with her ex,  Dane Maddock, a former Navy SEAL and professional treasure hunter. Maddock had moved on with his life and that made working with him—working closely with him—almost unendurable for Jade. She had made herself vulnerable, put her undiminished love for him out in the open, and he had ultimately refused her.

The rejection burned like an open wound, and the only way to get past it was to get away from anything that reminded her of Dane Maddock. It was time for her to get on with her life.

She sensed that Acosta was still waiting for an explanation. The circumstances were unique. I speak the language fluently and I do have a background in Asian studies. Besides, no matter where you go, the principles of archaeology are the same, right?

Acosta made a humming sound that could have indicated anything from disinterested agreement to mild disapproval. Well, follow me and I’ll introduce you to the team.

He turned and led her along the perimeter of the pyramid, to a dark opening that appeared to lead right into the heart of the massive structure. Jade was somewhat surprised when, instead of heading into the passage, Acosta continued a few steps past the tunnel mouth and bent over a metal plate, flush with the sloping ground. The plate reminded Jade of the entrance to a basement, and she was not at all surprised when Acosta lifted the plate, revealing another opening that plunged straight down.

I think I’d rather see what’s behind door number one.

Acosta gave a polite chuckle. That passage, he said, indicating the first opening, was dug by archaeologists. It doesn’t really go anywhere. This shaft that we’re using is the only passage we’ve discovered into the interior of the pyramid that was actually used by the Teotihuacanos. He paused. Or at least that was the case until a few days ago.

What do you mean by that?

You’ll see. Acosta took a pair of hard hats and two flashlights from his duffel, and passed one of each to Jade. When they had both donned their helmets, Acosta stepped down into the opening and began descending a steep metal staircase into the darkness.

Jade followed closely, playing the beam of her light on the surrounding walls. After the initial descent, the slope of the passage eased, but the sense of confinement increased dramatically. The air was warm and stale.

This was a lava tube, Acosta explained, his voice sounding muffled in the close quarters. The builders removed the softer volcanic rock in order to reach the chamber under the center of the pyramid.

Jade noted that, while they were continuing to descend, the passage snaked back and forth, following a course laid by natural forces millions of years ago. Why?

I’m afraid we don’t know that, any more than we know why they built the pyramid in the first place. The chamber probably represents the Underworld, but until we can learn more about the religious practices and cosmology of Teotihuacan, we’re just guessing. Ah, here we are.

The passage abruptly widened and Jade saw that a small tent-like structure had been erected right in the middle of the path. The door was thrown back, and two people stood inside, hunched over a laptop computer.

Acosta tapped lightly on the side of the structure. Drs. Sanchez and Dorion, may I introduce your new colleague, Dr. Ihara?

Jade quickly took stock of the two men that turned to greet her. One was short and stocky with a dark complexion and an infectious smile, the other average height and slender, with a mop of wavy brown hair framing a pale, studious face. The first man—presumably Sanchez—stepped forward quickly and began pumping Jade’s hand. Dr. Ihara, so good to finally meet you. We’ve heard wonderful things.

Jade returned the smile, wondering exactly what wonderful things the man had heard, and who said them. Probably just being polite, she decided. Thank you. It’s good to be here.

She realized that the other man—Dorion—was staring at her like she was a supermodel. I’ve seen you before.

Jade noted the accent—French, she decided. Not Paris, though. Somewhere in the countryside—but it was the way he spoke, with an almost reverential awe, that made her feel very uncomfortable. Before she could respond, he added. It was in a dream, I think.

Sanchez bellowed out laughter. Paul is such a charmer. Watch out for him, Dr. Ihara.

Jade didn’t feel the least bit charmed. She glanced at Acosta, still aware of Dorion’s scrutiny, then addressed Sanchez. Please, call me Jade. It will save time.

Jade it is. A lovely name. You know that jade was extremely precious to the early inhabitants of Mesoamerica. Oh, but look who I’m talking to. Of course you know that. He clapped his hands together. I’m Noe. This is Paul.

Dr. Dorion is our resident muon tomographer, explained Acosta. He’s the one who is making it possible for us to see through the walls of the pyramid.

Muon tomographer? Jade asked. She actually knew a little about the process, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to hear it explained by an expert.

Muons are high-speed elementary particles found in cosmic rays. With the shift to Dorion’s area of expertise, his voice lost some of its creepy undertone. We are constantly bombarded by them on the surface, but they are unable to penetrate down here—one hundred meters underground. At least, this is the case where the pyramid is solid. Where there are gaps—tunnels and chambers—the muons can pass through and reach the detector.

Like an X-ray machine?

Exactly. Only subatomic particles can penetrate much deeper than X-rays.

It’s working, too, added Sanchez. Paul, show her what we’ve found.

Dorion stepped back inside the enclosure and bent over the computer, tapping out a few quick commands. The lines of text on the screen were replaced by a blue screen with blossoms of yellow and orange that reminded Jade of a Magic-Eye photo. Dorion continued to manipulate the image and Jade saw the largest blossom begin moving vertically down the screen.

What am I looking at here?

Particle frequency is abnormally high in the quadrant we’ve been monitoring.

Sanchez pointed into the chamber just past the enclosure. There’s a passage just behind that wall.

We think there’s a passage, amended Acosta.

The data are consistent with there being a hollow space in the pyramid, Dorion said.

But that’s not the best part, Sanchez went on, with child-like enthusiasm. Paul, show her the model.

Dorion tapped a few more keys and the blue screen vanished, replaced instead by a transparent three-dimensional representation of the pyramid. The chamber in which they now stood and the tunnel leading to it appeared as a pale red artery, ending in four-headed bulb directly below the apex, while a blue vein snaked a vertical course to a smaller cavity directly above them.

Sanchez pointed an eager finger at the picture. The passage doesn’t extend to the exterior. It’s probably been sealed since the time of the pyramid’s construction.

Jade grasped the reason for Sanchez’s enthusiasm. A sealed chamber might offer an unprecedented glimpse into the origins of Teotihuacan and its inhabitants. Why a vertical shaft going nowhere?

A sacred well? Acosta speculated. If this is a tomb, it might well represent a passage to the Underworld. Or it may be some part of the original inhabitants’ belief system that we have never seen before. That’s what we hope to learn when we explore the chamber.

When can we enter the chamber?

We have to proceed carefully, Acosta went on. We are dedicated to minimizing the impact to the site, but of course when word of this gets out, it will become difficult to protect whatever treasures—in the archaeological sense—may lie within. Our plan is to dig a small intersecting shaft, just large enough to insert a robotic vehicle. I’d like you to take care of excavation, Dr. Ihara, but remember, we only want to get a look at what’s in there. We won’t be taking anything out.

The restriction did not bother Jade in the slightest. She felt the group’s excitement catch fire within her. Even Dorion’s strange manner seemed irrelevant. Then let’s get started.

This is why I love being an archaeologist.

TWO

JADE WATCHED AS the Jeep rolled across the nearly empty gravel parking lot where she had made her own arrival only a few days earlier. She checked her watch. The Laco 1925 Navy Classic sported a big white face with easy to read numbers, sort of like a miniaturized wall-clock. Given her jet-setting lifestyle, she didn’t own a lot of prized possessions, but this was definitely one of the few things that she always kept with her. It had been a Christmas gift from Maddock, a German watch from a German watch shop.  Maybe Maddock was gone, but she still clung to her memories of that magical Christmas in Germany. They visited the Cologne Cathedral to get a peek at the bones of the Magi inside the Shrine of the Three Kings and ended up tangling with a branch of the Dominion called Heilig Herrschaft. She had invited Maddock’s partner and best friend, Bones Bonebrake and his sister, Angel, to join them and....

And now Maddock and Angel were together.

I should get a new watch.

It was too late in the afternoon for more tourists, which meant the Jeep probably belonged to the man she was waiting for. When the vehicle finally stopped, she rose to her feet and stretched, shrugging off the muscle soreness of long hours of physical labor in cramped conditions.

The job of methodically digging out the exploratory shaft by hand, while physically taxing, had been the perfect distraction from her emotional turmoil, and as she got closer to the vertical tunnel, her growing anticipation made even the aches and blisters seem irrelevant. Now that the shaft was finished—a slot in the surrounding lava matrix that was just barely large enough for her to crawl through—she was eager to move on to the next phase of the investigation. With a final standing cat-stretch to work out the last of the kinks, Jade started out across the parking lot toward the newly arrived Jeep to meet the man who would make that possible.

The passenger side door opened and a fit, and not altogether unattractive thirty-something man got out. His dark hair was shorn close in a military buzz cut, which instantly made her think about Maddock, but she pushed away the impulsive comparison.

Lots of guys were ex-military. No reason to hold that against him.

You must be the robot guy, she called. Acosta had made the arrangements while her head had been, literally, in a hole. He had decided to bring in an American, both to help preserve site secrecy and to meet specific technical challenges, but Jade couldn’t recall if the administrator had mentioned his name.

The man flashed a disarming smile and stepped away from the Jeep, extending a hand. And you must be Lara Croft, Tomb Raider.

Wow. Never heard that one before. Strike one, thought Jade.

Kidding, the man hastily said. I’m Brian Hodges, the robot guy. I’ve heard a lot about you, Dr. Ihara. I’m looking forward to working with you.

Jade weighed his response, wondering how it was possible that everyone she met had heard so much about her. Strike two, she decided. And he’s not really that good looking. Have you got the robot with you?

It’s in the back. Hodges paused a beat, then nodded toward the Jeep. I think you already know my partner in crime.

Jade heard the driver’s door slam and was just turning to greet the vehicle’s other occupant when a familiar voice froze her in mid-step. Hey, stranger.

Jade stared in disbelief at the tall lanky form of Pete Professor Chapman. Oh, hell no.

Professor affected a mock pout. Is that any way to greet an old friend?

No. No way. This isn’t happening. Jade shook her head and spun on her heel, already mentally constructing the rant she would drop on Acosta’s head like a ton of bricks.

Jade, wait!

Something about Professor’s tone stopped her, but when she turned back around and faced him, the acid bubbled up again. Why are you here?

He shrugged. Why not? We make a good team.

She shook her head again. We made a good team. Then you quit and joined...his team.

Deep down, Jade knew her accusation was not entirely fair. Professor had started out on his team—Maddock’s team—long before Jade knew either man. Maddock and Professor had gone through SEAL training together and served in the same unit for several years. Even then, he had been Professor—always ready with some bit of obscure trivia, but in the years following his term of military service, he had gone on to earn several degrees and had actually taught for a while. Institutional learning had not been a good fit for the former Naval SpecWar shooter, and so he had jumped at the chance to work with the archaeologist ex-girlfriend of his old swim buddy. Jade had welcomed his professional expertise on the Yonaguni investigation, but if she was honest, she had to admit that the real reason she had hired Professor was the chance to get close to one of Maddock’s old friends, and maybe figure out a way to win back her former lover.

It hadn’t been one of her better ideas.

Ultimately, the association had indeed brought Maddock back into her life, but not in the way she had expected. Maddock had gone back to work for the government as part of a secret group, informally called the Myrmidons—a reference to the deadly warriors who had fought with Achilles in the Trojan War—dedicated to rooting out the Dominion’s influence. Following the events at Yonaguni, Jade and Professor had both been invited to join the Myrmidons on a permanent basis. Although Jade despised the Dominion, the idea of working with Maddock had been too much to deal with. Professor however, had accepted the offer, citing some nonsense about the greater good, and that had been the end of their partnership.

She couldn’t really fault him for making that decision. The Dominion was a real threat. Their most recent campaign had resulted in thousands of deaths. It was, quite literally, a war and Professor was, first and foremost, a warrior who had sworn an oath to defend his country. She knew it was petty to be mad at him for making that choice—for choosing to fight the good fight—but it felt more like he had chosen Maddock over her, and that was a bitter pill to swallow.

Professor cast a quick glance at Hodges before returning his attention to Jade. Will you give me five minutes to explain? I’ll buy you a coffee.

Jade sighed. Prof wasn’t such a bad guy, and he certainly didn’t deserve to be recipient of her Maddock-focused ire. Fine. Five minutes. She looked at Hodges who had been watching the tense exchange with rapt interest. I’m curious to know how you ended up with the robot guy.

Professor nodded. Brian, give us a few?

Take as long as you need, Pete. I’ll be here with the gear.

Professor turned back to Jade. So where’s a good place to buy a girl a cup of joe?

Jade just shook her head. Screw that. I need a shot.

Professor slammed his glass down and grinned in triumph as the smoky liquid blazed a trail from his gullet to his belly. Jade, who had taken only a small sip of her mezcal, merely regarded him thoughtfully as she rolled the half-filled shot glass between a thumb and forefinger.

Beats the hell out of sake, doesn’t it? she remarked. But you’re supposed to sip it, not shoot it like an American.

Professor glanced around the little hole in the wall Jade had brought him to. Make that hole in the ground. The restaurant had been built—if that was the right word—in a deep cave grotto on the edge of the archaeological site. In fact, the terrace where they were now sitting overlooking the gaping cave entrance was built on the flanks of one of the lesser pyramids. As one of the few restaurants actually operating in the archaeological preserve, never mind the unique experience of dining in a cave, it was a natural place for tourists to congregate, and the establishment was bustling with activity.

"Well, I am an American," he said finally.

She shrugged and took another sip, appearing to savor the agave liquor. Professor savored the view. With her athletic but nonetheless very feminine physique, lustrous black hair tied in a long braid draped over her right shoulder, and exotic Hawaiian-Japanese features, Jade Ihara was a feast for the eyes.

Maddock, how did you let this one slip away?

He knew the answer of course. Looks weren’t everything, and he knew from personal experience that Jade was...what was the term? High maintenance?

That was putting it mildly. Jade could be downright bitchy at times, and he had more than once gotten exasperated at her incessant mooning over Dane Maddock. Still, she was smart, tough and beautiful, and it was only her history with Maddock that kept him at arm’s length.

When he had first started working with her in Japan, it had seemed inevitable that she and Maddock would get back together—Jade had a way of getting what she wanted—and Professor had known to leave well enough alone. A cardinal rule of the SEAL teams was that you didn’t screw around with your swim buddy’s girl; combat and love triangles were a bad combination. Unfortunately, by the time he’d figured out that Maddock definitely wasn’t going to be in the picture, he was already in the friend-zone. That had made his decision to accept Tam Broderick’s offer to join the Myrmidons a lot easier, but Jade, for all her flaws, had stayed in his thoughts.

She set her glass down and made a point of looking at her watch. Okay, Prof. The clock is running. Five minutes to explain just what the hell you’re doing here.

Oh, Jade, I’ve missed you. He wagged his head, but then became more serious. You could be in danger here.

Danger? From who?

Who do you think?

She shook her head. Not this time. There aren’t any mystical relics here, no magical alien artifacts. This is just straightforward archaeology. There’s no reason why the Dominion would have any interest in what’s happening here, ergo I’m not in danger.

I can think of two reasons why you’re wrong.

Do tell.

Professor decanted another portion of mezcal into his glass. What do you think you’re going to find in that chamber under the pyramid?

Above her almond eyes, Jade’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. How did you even find out about that? It’s supposed to be a secret.

It’s very hard to keep secrets these days. He took a sip, and then repeated the question. What do you think you’ll find?

She shrugged. Probably a tomb. If the chamber served a ceremonial function, it wouldn’t have been sealed off in antiquity.

Whose tomb?

How should I know?

The ancient inhabitants of the city built one of the largest structures in the world over that tomb. I’d say the person buried there must be pretty important, don’t you think?

You’re wasting time. Get to the point.

The point, Jade, is that you seem to have forgotten about one of the most important aspects of Mesoamerican culture, something that Dominion is likely to be very interested in. Quetzalcoatl.

Jade’s frown deepened. Quetzalcoatl the Aztec god? What’s he got to do with anything? The Aztecs didn’t show up in Teo until almost a thousand years after the pyramid was built.

Worship of the feathered serpent deity in Mesoamerica goes back a lot further than the Aztecs. But as I’m sure you’ll remember, in some myths, Quetzalcoatl is often described as a bearded white man who brought great wisdom to the ancient people who once lived here.

Jade rolled her eyes. Please. I know what comes next. Quetzalcoatl was actually Jesus Christ, bringing the Gospel to the heathens of the Americas. No one believes those old stories anymore. It was just Spanish propaganda designed to convert the indigenous people.

Some people still believe.

Like who?

The Mormons.

Jade’s mouth was open to reply, but then she closed it and sat back.

Not officially, Professor continued. Not anymore at least, but for decades it was an article of faith in the LDS Church that the legends surrounding Quetzalcoatl were evidence that Christ once visited the Americas. And I don’t need to remind you that the Dominion has expressed a keen interest in some of those more antiquated bits of LDS folklore.

Professor knew that Jade had first-hand experience with this subject; a few years earlier, her first encounter with the Dominion had seen the group infiltrate a Mormon sect in order to locate Biblical artifacts concealed in the Seven Golden Cities of Cibola.

I’m not suggesting that the chamber is going to contain the remains of Quetzalcoatl or Jesus Christ, he continued. All I’m saying is, the Dominion might believe that, and if they do, then you can bet they’ll be watching to see what you discover.

Jade processed this for a moment. Okay. You said two reasons.

Professor nodded his head in her direction. You’re the other reason.

Me?

You’ve foiled their best laid plans a few times now, Jade. They aren’t likely to forget, and they certainly aren’t going to forgive.

She laughed mirthlessly. So that’s how you were able to act on this so quickly; been keeping an eye on me. Well, I appreciate the concern, but you can go back and tell Maddock that I’m a big girl. I don’t need protecting.

Professor felt a twinge of irritation at her assumption that he was acting as Maddock’s lackey. I’m not here to protect you, he replied, speaking slowly to avoid letting any bitterness creep into his tone. I’m here because if there’s even a chance the Dominion might show up, I want to be ready to crush them.

She flashed a sardonic smile. You sure know how to make a girl feel special.

Damn it, Jade, make up your mind, Professor snapped. Which is it? Do you want someone watching your back, or not? You can’t have it both ways.

Jade’s lower jaw shifted slowly to the left, as if biting back a scathing retort. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, smoldering with pent up anger, but she didn’t address the subject directly. What about your friend, Hodges? Is he really a robot expert, or is that just cover?

Brian knows what he’s doing, replied Professor with equal intensity. He got his training in Naval EOD. He also hates the Dominion more than you and I put together. His wife and baby daughter died at Norfolk.

Jade blinked. The mere mention of the Dominion attack on Norfolk, in which thousands had died in a catastrophic tsunami wave, triggered by an ancient Atlantean device, seemed to have broken through her tough girl facade. Then she shook her head, dismissively. Well, it’s probably not going to matter. What I’m really going to need is someone who can drive a robot into that chamber. Like I said, there’s nothing here that’s going to be of interest to the Dominion. It’s just straightforward archaeology.

Professor raised his glass again. Well, here’s to straightforward archaeology.

THREE

JADE STARED AT the strange looking bundle of metal rods. That’s a robot? It doesn’t look anything like WALL-E.

Hodges grinned. Some of them do, but in order to explore a vertical shaft, we need a unit that can climb walls. That’s why I brought Shelob here.

Shelob. Cute. She took a step back, giving him room to assemble the robot, but Paul Dorion quickly occupied the space she had vacated.

How does it work?

Jade had not seen the particle physicist look so excited since the discovery of the hidden tunnel, though in truth, she had not seen much of him or Sanchez in the past few days. They had made themselves scarce while she had been laboring to dig the exploratory shaft, probably afraid that she would put them to work.

Hodges seemed only too happy to share. Most wall climbing robots use suction cups or magnets, but those won’t work here. The stone isn’t magnetic and it’s too porous for a suction cup to adhere. I designed Shelob to work in chimney shafts and inside wet walls where the surface material would be unpredictable. Like her namesake—

I’m sorry, her namesake? inquired Sanchez.

Shelob is the giant spider from Lord of the Rings, supplied Professor.

Hodges nodded. "That’s right. She’s got eight fully articulated legs—two sets of four—which can extend in any direction. One set of legs will extend out to brace her in place between opposing surfaces while the other set reaches up or down, taking a step as it were. When those legs are braced, the other set disengages and takes the next step.

Watch this. Hodges slipped on a headset microphone. Shelob, run diagnostic.

The metal rods abruptly unfolded from the thorax, which looked sort of like a tool box with a GoPro attached to one end, and began whirring and rotating until they made contact with the stone floor. The movements were mechanical and jerky, but it nevertheless looked very much like a silvery spider, though instead of a silk thread, it trailed a length of black coaxial cable that connected to a spool which was in turn hooked up to Hodges’ laptop. The display screen showed the view from Shelob’s camera. The robot went through a series of maneuvers, scuttling around chamber as if exploring.

The legs can telescope out like the adjustable legs of a camera tripod, Hodges said, for a total reach of just over eight feet, which should be just about perfect for your tunnel.

As if on cue, the robot’s legs began to lengthen, shooting out to their full length until it more closely resembled a daddy-longlegs than a spider, which in Jade’s opinion did nothing improve its appearance.

Great, muttered Jade. Robot spiders. Nothing freaky about that.

You afraid of spiders? Professor whispered in her ear.

She ignored him. Despite his persuasive arguments in the cantina, she was far from happy about the way he’d hijacked her dig. The only reason she hadn’t blown the whistle and told Acosta about it was that Hodges did happen to have a robot that would let her see the hidden chamber and she didn’t want to wait another week for Acosta to find someone else.

I’m not afraid of spiders, she thought grumpily. But robot spiders? That’s just wrong.

If she had still been keeping score, that probably would have been strike three for Hodges, but she wasn’t, not after learning about Norfolk.

She had never regretted walking away from Tam Broderick’s offer to join the Myrmidons. She was an archaeologist, not a secret agent, and besides, the last thing she needed was to be working alongside Maddock again. But that didn’t mean she was apathetic about the threat posed by the Dominion.

Still, they weren’t going to show up here. She was sure of that.

Looks like it’s working just fine, she told Hodges. Send it in.

Hodges spoke into the mic again. Shelob, end diagnostic. The robot’s legs retracted and it crab-walked over to stand in front of its master. Hodges picked up one of two joystick controls wired to his computer and spoke again. Initiate manual guidance.

The robot began moving again, only now it was responding directly to Hodges’ will. It walked toward the small hole Jade had excavated and proceeded within.

Shelob, light mode.

A light flashed on inside the rocky niche, and Jade saw the interior of the access tunnel appear on the computer screen. The robot continued forward at a plodding but relentless pace, and in less than a minute, reached the junction with the vertical shaft, which appeared as a