The Sacred Vault: The Quest for Atlantis, #2

ALSO BY RICK JONES:

Vatican Knights Series

The Vatican Knights

Shepherd One

The Iscariot Agenda

Pandora's Ark

The Bridge of Bones

Crosses to Bear

The Lost Cathedral

Dark Advent

Cabal

The Golgotha Pursuit

Targeted Killing

Sinners and Saints

The Barbed Crown

Stand Alone Novels

Familiar Stranger

The Valley

Mausoleum 2069

Hunter Series

Night of the Hunter

The Black Key

Theater of Operation

The Eden Series

The Crypts of Eden (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure)

The Menagerie (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure)

The Thrones of Eden (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure)

The Atlantis Series (Earth Seeding)

City Beneath the Sea (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure)

The Secret Vault (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure)

(COMING) City Within Clouds ((A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure)

(COMING) The Crystal Keep (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure)

PART ONE

BATTLE STATIONS

PROLOGUE

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Inside the City Beneath the Sea

At the End of the Bimini Road

Three Months Ago

The Sentinel shared 99% of its human genome with mankind, with the other one percent of its DNA sequence not from this Earth but the Alnitak star system. With a DNA variance that amounted to a one percent difference between it and mankind, it was the same differential variance between man and the chimpanzee.

Though it had been cast from a petri-dish assembly more than ten thousand years ago, the Sentinel’s similarities to man were equal in every way. Not only did it carry the genetic disposition for war, but it also incorporated the ‘violence’ gene which made mankind naturally dangerous.

Creations like the Sentinel’s had been wired to be the Protectors of a New Race who were developed to replace the abysmal failure that had been mankind—the petri-dish experiment from the biological engineers who had fallen short of implanting the hallmark trait of human kindness, with the result the development of an imperfect creation. And since current man continued to carry and pass along this genetic flaw, the Creators had re-engineered a new line after removing the inheritable genetic factor from the genome and wound up with an edited version of humans that were wiser, gentler, and open to ideologies that would promote rather than resist advancement. And it was this design of humanity that the Gods had decided upon to reboot the planet, after purging mankind.

These Sentinels were the warrior breed who protected the new brood that had been hidden for centuries in satellite civilizations that had long been buried beneath earth and legend. Places like Eden, Atlantis, and Troy—all fabled cities that were beginning to surface. They were sexless creations made to serve and protect the New Race. And once the New Race had a foothold, then the Sentinels, who were incapable of reproducing, would eventually die off. And with them, the ‘violence’ gene.

War was beginning.

Not from the Middle East.

Not from the rising tensions with North Korea.

Not from the corruptible greed that’s spreading like cancer throughout every civilization and community. But by the will and command of a gene that corrupted man’s moral compass.

Over history, the Annunaki had seen to correct their mistake by reinventing a more altruistic adaption of themselves in their image. There would be no more wars, no more corruptions brought on by the selfish needs at the cost of others, and no more ambitions that were spearheaded by greed or vanity. Inside the new and purer genetic code would also be the means of creating a utopia.

Mankind was on its way out.

And the New Race was on its way in.

After the discovery of the city when a seaquake destroyed a sedimentary layer that covered the metropolis—governments, specialized archeologists, and linguists of ancient languages homed in only to discover alien technology that went far beyond the current laws of physics, with our laws rudimentary at best when compared to theirs.

For such technology and mathematics to exist so long ago, a principal in the United States military once commented that these beings were at a level to us as we are to the amoeba, even though gains had been made over the centuries, but marginally. And that was a scary consideration to the military hierarchy.

So, when the city dubbed as Atlantis was discovered, when the military principals invaded the chambers to discover containers dubbed as ‘artificial wombs’ that cultivated the New Race who floated within a nutrient-rich solution, the Sentinels took arms to protect their own as they were genetically engineered to do. But their halberds had little effect against the rounds of assault weapons, and the number of man’s military personnel were too great for them to overcome as they approached to take new ground within Atlantis.

After the Annunaki Master—an aged being in the twilight of his life—saw the approach of men, he handed off the Emerald Tablet to a Sentinel, a power source for the city, for safe-keeping.

Being the last of its kind as it accepted the tablet, the Sentinel, with its halberd strapped to its back, made its way through the tunnels as though it was holding a religious icon, with care and reverence.

It took myriad twists and turns and was careful not to trigger the deadly traps that had been set for those who had no authority to enter the hallowed hallways of the city.

After a mile-long journey, the Sentinel came upon a vault whose portal was not of steel, but an aquatic wall that rippled like the surface of an ocean.

Hugging the Emerald Tablet to its massive chest with one hand, it took its other hand and placed the flat of its palm against the portal’s surface, the water vibrating around the touch. The surface was warm, the mild sensation of the portal’s wall reacting as it accepted the Sentinel’s DNA with absorption as a means to confirm its identity.

As the shimmering around the hand slowed, a hole that was the size of a pencil-point developed in the wall’s center, a pinpoint dot that quickly expanded until the access was completely open in invitation. Once inside the doorway, the opening quickly closed, and the aquatic wall moved with the soft shimmer of the ocean’s surface.

For as long as it could see, there was nothing but row after row of texts and tomes, a treasure trove of advanced information that was both technological and philosophical. Corridors of shelving far exceeded the full distance of the rows inside the Vatican Archives, which were more than thirty miles in length. But the Sentinel knew exactly where it had to go and what it had to do.

After a five-mile journey, it had come upon a bank of shelves specially designed to hold the Emerald Tablet. Finding a vacant slot between other tablets, the Sentinel slid the tablet neatly into the slot between two others, which caused the entire bank of tablets to illuminate as if its introduction was some kind of brief and Biblical acceptance before the light faded.

Removing the halberd that was festooned across its backside, the Sentinel would scout the rows knowing that these corridors would be its final resting place, after doing what it was wired to do: to keep it safe from intruders.

Across from the tablets stood a dais. Its top piece that would normally be used to hold tomes, however, had a much different purpose. On the angled tabletop was a cutout to fit an Emerald Tablet inside like a piece of a puzzle. Once done, then the mysteries of the universe would be mysteries no more, the answers showing up above the dais as holographic images with the encyclopedic answers appearing as visual displays.

Passing this by after a cursory examination, the Sentinel then came to a row of glass encasements whose surfaces were frosted. Inside each capsule were the biological specimens that came before, during, and after the Sentinel, the displays mere artifacts of the lost species of man.

After placing a palm against the glass, the Sentinel felt disturbed by the thought that it, too, was truly the last of its kind. Perhaps, it considered, it would also be displayed as a museum piece of biological wonders.

Removing its hand and leaving a palm print, the Sentinel moved on.

CHAPTER ONE

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Manhattan, New York

Professor Hillary once served as a renowned archeologist at a top institute of learning until the United States government condemned his reported discoveries of Eden as yellow journalism. As a result of this, the professor’s credibility had been significantly reduced in the eyes of his constituency, including the Board of Regents, who saw to dismiss him from the ranks of the institute.

Now with his severance pay running low and his options for viable employment even slimmer, Professor Hillary often found solace with the aid of a bottle until he could see its bottom, which was always a telltale sign for him to start another.

After grabbing a flask of cinnamon whisky and then sitting at his desk to type a few more pages of a book he knew would never be published, there came an incessant knock on his door, the banging furious.

Mumbling a string of profanities under his breath, Professor Hillary found it much more difficult to stand than to sit, his knees popping and cracking as he got to his feet. Wait a damn minute already! he shouted.

The banging stopped.

Opening the door, two men were standing just beyond the threshold wearing navy-blue suits, matching ties, white shirts, and conservative haircuts, each a facsimile of the other right down to the shared color of their eyes.

Hillary’s greeting was simple and curt: What.

Professor Hillary? This came from the one carrying a tan-colored briefcase.

Hillary’s eyes appraised the men and then the briefcase, his assessment taking less than a second before he pegged them as government officials. Let me guess, he started. Federal Bureau? NSA? I know it’s not the CIA since I would be out of their jurisdiction.

I’m Agent Jeff Sexton. And my associate here—He pointed to his partner— is Agent Penderbrook.

From?

The National Security Agency.

That’s nice, Hillary said, waving his hand at them in dismissal. You two have a good day.

Just as Hillary was about to shut the door, Sexton placed the flat of his palm against the door to keep it from closing. Please, Professor Hillary, all we ask for is a moment of your time. Fifteen minutes at the most.

Hillary gave the men a sidelong glance with an inquisitive arch to his brow. It was you people who made it so I can’t even get a job at a community college—all because you sullied my name in whatever periodical you could post your slandering lies. You made it so I became a mockery and an embarrassment at the institute I worked at which eventually led to my dismissal. Did you know that?

Fifteen minutes, was all Sexton said, his face neutral.

I don’t want fifteen seconds with either of you.

As he started to force the door closed, Sexton became more adamant. Professor Hillary, please, what I have to offer is something you’ve always dreamed about. There is more to your publication you can add to. Much more.

Hillary didn’t force the door closed, but he didn’t let up on it either. "Publication? There is no publication. The publisher was the college I was employed at. And the book has since been removed from its line."

I’m talking about the government constituency, those who know the truth but try to bury it. Your truth, Professor Hillary. The truth the government is so desperately trying to hide because the truth cannot be told for reasons for national security.

Reasons for national security! Hillary laughed at this.

Professor Hillary, please, said Agent Sexton. I happen to have a copy of your book inside my briefcase along with other materials you might be interested in seeing. Sexton raised the tan case. In fact, he added, materials that have been labeled as TS.

Hillary gave a one-sided grin of skepticism. You’re telling me that members of the National Security Agency are knocking on the door of an unemployed college professor to show him top-secret material? Really? Is that what you want me to believe?

Professor Hillary, said Sexton, the TS material I hold in my hand is based on your findings in Eden. They’re also materials based on similar findings in a city newly discovered beneath the sea located at the end of the Bimini Road.

Bimini Road? Are you talking about Atlantis?

Fifteen minutes, Professor. That’s all I’m asking for ...Fifteen minutes.

Professor Hillary let them in.

* * *

Agents Jeff Sexton and Penderbrook were sitting on a couch opposite Professor Hillary with cushions so deflated by heavy use over time, they appeared to be sinking deep into the furniture. Hillary, however, maintained an inward smile as he sat in a comfortable recliner.

After looking at the many books that lined the shelves of Hillary’s library, Sexton stated as a means to soften the tension, It appears that you like to read.

Sometimes books are a wonderful escape from a not so wonderful life that was given to me by my illustrious government after they crushed my reputation.

Sexton nodded. Yes. Of course.

Now back to the reason why you’re here, Hillary said with a crisp edge. Are you telling me that you found Atlantis?

Yes and no, said Sexton. The jury’s still out on that since we believe that the true Atlantis, if it did exist, may have been closer to Greece, which would make sense since the cradle of civilization and trade existed within that region, at least according to Plato. But for the sake of discussion, Professor, we’ll call it Atlantis.

You’re talking about the ringed islands off Santorini, Greece.

If scholars are to be believed. But something came up in this city beneath the sea not too long ago. Something mentioned by Plato to be magnificently powerful.

The emerald tablet?

Agent Sexton nodded. It was discovered and lost by the team who ventured inside the pyramids. But it’s down there and it has immense power.

So, I’m assuming with the discovery of this city that you’ve established some kind of Comm Center?

We’ve been building and connecting modular stations over the past few weeks.

For study?

You wouldn’t believe what’s down there, Sexton offered as a tease.

But Hillary’s smile flourished. After what I saw in Eden, he said, I probably would. Then he pointed to Sexton’s briefcase. You’ve something to show me? I’m guessing it’s information regarding this underwater city.

Sexton placed the case on his lap, undid the snaps, and opened it. Inside were photos and manila folders filled with documents. First, he pulled out the top folder and peeled back its flap, revealing crisp photos of this city beneath the sea from angles above the fortresses and buildings from different magnifications, the pictures taken from a camera situated at the underbelly of a submersible submarine.

Professor Hillary went through the photographs with careful study and obvious awe by the way his jaw started to hang. He saw images of pyramids that were much larger than Cheops in Egypt and the Great Pyramid of Cholula in Mexico, which is considered to be the largest pyramid in the world. More photos, all well-defined given the clear visibility of the waters, showing a massive coliseum, an Acropolis-like theater, domed palaces, massive structures, and towering statues that rivaled the Colossus of Rhodes, if not larger. Roads that had long since been buried beneath sand and silt still revealed the ribbon-like outlines of where they once lay, though the evidence was marginal at best. And then there was the final photo which showed a modular city that had been pieced together in a grid pattern that extended a kilometer in every direction from the central module. As large as this modular system was, however, it was still dwarfed by the neighboring pyramid.

This is incredible, Hillary said more to himself while leafing through the photos.

Agent Jeff Sexton removed a second envelope and held it up. And this, he said, contains the photos of what we’ve discovered inside the pyramid. He handed it over to Hillary who grabbed it like a kid yearning for a gift on Christmas morning.

In the second batch, Professor Hillary was looking at the clean images of a chamber deep inside the pyramid. It was vast and huge, larger than a soccer field, and housed what appeared to be thousands of crystal skulls.

The room looks amazingly dry, commented Hillary.

It is, he answered. Those skulls you see there are putting out indescribable energy strong enough to contain and hold back thousands of tons of water from breaching the area. When the military tried to remove a pair of skulls from its pedestal, it didn’t work out well for the personnel.

The soldiers were killed?

On the spot, said Sexton. Evaporated by a high-energy blast from the main crystal located in the center of the chamber. The techs believe that the central crystal serves as a failsafe security measure to keep the skulls in tack. To remove one crystal would weaken the power grid.

I see. Professor Hillary went through more photos. The crystal skulls had been formed at a time when it would have been impossible to do so, considering that current technology would labor to do so with such elements, only to produce similar structures with significant flaws.

More photos.

More crystal skulls.

Most were human-shaped, whereas others were malformed with the bulbous extension of the parietal and occipital bones lengthening well behind the frontal bone. Depending on the source questioned, most would be inclined to point out the shape to be extraterrestrial in origin, or perhaps a design from a long-lost human species. Either way, these skulls were thought to be older than ten thousand years.

Elongated skulls, said Professor Hillary, holding up a picture. People in some circles believe that the race came from the Alnitak system and became a strong influence over the Egyptian and Mayan cultures. There are hiero- and petroglyphs of these beings written as historical recordings. There are even figurines created of this race coming from the Heavens as well—more like pottery that has been found all over the world.

Images of the Annunaki, said Sexton.

Hillary nodded in confirmation as he continued to look through the photos.

In some images, there were rooms and chambers and hallways, all dry from the effects of water, though the city was several hundred feet beneath the surface level of the sea. Hillary held up the photos as though he was showing off a poker hand. Are you telling me that the energy contained within the chamber of crystal skulls is creating some kind of safety bubble within the walls of the pyramids?

That is the theory, Sexton told him.

And the government wants to know how they can harness and control this energy.

Sexton nodded, telling Professor Hillary that he was spot on.

But it’s slow going, I assume? asked Hillary.

"Technology of this level takes time to reverse engineer. In fact, we’ve hardly begun to scratch the surface of this type of technology, or close to understanding the laws of their physics. So when Arthur C. Clarke said that magic is science not yet understood, he was right. Because all this, said Sexton as he pointed to the pictures in Hillary’s hands, is nothing but magic to us."

I don’t understand something, said Hillary. I’m an anthropologist-slash-archeologist with minor studies in decoding ancient text and languages, so I don’t see how any of this has anything to do with me—interesting as it all is.

Agent Sexton produced a third manila folder and handed it off to Professor Hillary. Here’s the reason why, he told him.

When Hillary saw the photos, his mouth dropped. Then to Sexton: Are these for real?

Absolutely. I wouldn’t be here if they weren’t.

Hillary, with a deep sense of incredulity, eased back into his seat. Even with the proof in his hands, he still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around what he was seeing.

CHAPTER TWO

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The Archeological Institute of Ancient Antiquities (The AIAA)

New York City, New York

Alyssa Moore was sitting on the lid of the toilet waiting for the pregnancy test to reveal its findings based on the measure of human chorionic gonadotropin, or HCG. She held the wand directly before her eyes and willed it to move faster, hoping to see the lines that would indicate that she was with child, something she had prayed for after losing her first in a miscarriage.

As the minutes seemed to move along at a glacial pace, faded lines began to appear in the windows. Imperceptible at first, just a couple of imperceptible tracks. And then the lines began to darken with a line in each window, the markings bringing a smile and a glow to her face.

She was young, and beautiful, and had all the linguistic skills of ancient language interpretation as she followed in the footsteps of her father, who was a notable linguist of ancient languages and was credited with the discovery of Eden. After his death, which ironically happened inside this very discovery, Eden was then followed up with further explorations by Alyssa.

These missions, however, proved dark in their discoveries with the findings—at least by her viewpoint—never meant to be found.

When Eden was finally laid to rest, she received a visit from the government several months later regarding a city discovered beneath a sea with technology that exceeded our own, and with endless advantages. Upon further examination, the city was considered to be more than ten thousand years old and held horrors that were much greater than Eden’s. But the temptations for discovery were too great since the tablets inside this newly discovered city held a library of knowledge in sciences that were on a much greater scale of learning and understanding than what was currently available. So, the assignments to investigate this ‘city beneath the sea’ were deemed as ‘necessary risks’ by the United States military since the wealth of information would provide a great benefit.

But during her mission, she learned that there was a dark side to these pearls of wisdom as well. A mapped-out history as to the fate of mankind had been spelled out on a Doomsday Calendar inside the pyramids. By the year 2026, all the wisdom upon these tablets predicted the downfall of mankind once their knowledge had been translated for military application. And by abusing such teachings, mankind would destroy cradle Earth. This was a prophecy that had been spelled out upon the calendar, something she believed to have a high probability since mankind appeared to be on a suicidal reign.

Refusing to aid the military any further in their quest for such discoveries, she returned to New York and to her studies as a linguist in regard to understanding ancient languages.

When the lines on the pregnancy test were clear and showed that she was with child, Alyssa called out for her partner at the top of her lungs, a gleeful cry. When John Savage stood within the doorframe, she held up the test.

We’re pregnant, she told him. Then she hopped up from the seat and embraced her lover, saying over and over again ‘we’re pregnant,’ as if it was a mantra.

Nobody’s smile was wider than John Savage’s as he pulled her close.

CHAPTER THREE

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Manhattan, New York

Professor Hillary was examining a particular photo carefully, his excitement nearly impossible to contain, but contain it he did. It was a picture of a hominid wearing a robe whose hem touched the floor. It was tall and thin and jaded in appearance, with the features of his