Search: A Novel of Forbidden History (45 page)

Jess sat in anxious silence as Victoria stared up at one of the few paintings on her office walls, its ornate frame squeezed between the overstuffed bookcases. It was a portrait of Sir Francis Bacon, one of the 144 of his day. It was also a Family painting, and he held one hand in the gesture of the empty scroll. His other hand grasped his Tuareg cross. In the edging of the purple cloak that draped the famous scholar, the words
SCIENTIA POTESTAS EST
were worked in gold threads:
Knowledge is power.
The phrase was one of many from the
Traditions
that Sir Francis had revealed to the world, much to the chagrin of his cousins.

“Do you believe me?” Jess asked at last.

Victoria turned away from the portrait, and Jess saw new creases of concern on her cousin’s sun-weathered face. “It’s not that simple. You’ve given me no motive, or real evidence. Without that, how can I, or any of the rest of us, believe Su-Lin—and
Andrew
—want . . . and have
already
acted, to erase our heritage? There’s no basis for removing them from the Twelve.”

Jess blinked. “Is that possible? Can a defender be removed?”

“Supposedly, though I don’t think it’s ever happened. The most I’m aware of is that a few defenders have left active service and ended up in our libraries. ‘Taking on lives of permanent scholarship,’ I believe the Foundation calls it. But that’s more like being in exile than being removed.” Victoria frowned. “You see, that’s the problem with what you’ve told me, Jessie. The Foundation’s so big, our resources so formidable, any defender should be able to pursue any line of inquiry, without question. That’s always prevented disputes among us.”

“What about the allocation of those resources? Willem said there are never enough in a given year to do everything that everyone wants to do.”

“That’s true in any academic setting. But if one of our personal projects isn’t approved one year, it’s approved the next. We’re all equal, dear. That’s why the table’s round.”

“But . . .” Jess felt desperation rising, all thoughts of the need to acquire the sun map image sinking below a new threat. If she couldn’t convince Victoria, there was every likelihood she’d corroborate Su-Lin’s misgivings about the new defender’s readiness—
and
I’ll
end up in a “life of permanent scholarship.”

She spoke with urgency. “Victoria, listen, that’s
not
how Su-Lin is behaving. She didn’t tell you about the attack in Canada—and she was supposed to. Think about that, please. She told you she was worried about
me, but she
didn’t
tell you she’d already sent Cross personnel to bring me back to Zurich—at gunpoint. She’s already destroyed one temple, and probably the one in Cornwall, too. Think of what else we’ll lose if we don’t stop her!”

“I have been listening, and, frankly, Jessie, you’ve just weakened your argument.”

Jess stared at her cousin, uncomprehending.

“You made it clear that you and your David, and Ironwood and his people, were the
only
ones who could have known about the temple in Cornwall. That leaves only one reasonable assumption: Ironwood is responsible for its destruction. Which means, it’s likely he’s also responsible for what happened in Polynesia. And I wouldn’t put too much on Willem, just now. He’s been distraught since he lost Florian. Their ‘association’ with each other wasn’t unknown to all of us.”

For Jess, though, one action outweighed all others. “That doesn’t change the fact that Su-Lin’s withholding information.”

“What would you have me do?’

“Exactly what
she’s
doing. Don’t tell her anything I’ve told you.”

“About . . .”

“About anything, especially David.”

“David.” Victoria looked thoughtful. “When do you get the results of the genetic testing back?”

“Another two days for the preliminary results. Apparently, they’ll be able to tell if we’re related right away. It’ll take a bit longer than that to work out the precise details.”

“Well . . . at the very least, it would be fascinating if it turns out there’s a genetic marker that identifies the Family. It’d certainly make sense. And it would make it easier for you to bring him into the 144.”

Jess understood. Spouses of defenders automatically became part of the Family’s inner circle, though sometimes the training period could last years.

“What about . . .” Victoria hesitated. “The White Island?”

“Not till we decode the star map.”

“Then what?”

“Ideally?” Jess knew what she wanted to do but wasn’t sure it was possible. “Ideally, I’d like to go to whatever location the star map points to and see what’s there—and, somehow, get word to all the defenders, and all the 144 at the same time. If Su-Lin and Andrew are destroying temples, that would stop them.”

“Because everyone will know.”

Jess looked at the portrait of Bacon. “Knowledge will give us the power to preserve knowledge.”

Victoria thought that over, and Jess held her breath when it seemed her cousin had made a decision.

Then the deafening scream of a siren made them both cup their ears.

“What is it?” Jess gasped.

Victoria raised her voice to be heard above the din. “The blast door! It’s closing!”

David raised his hands in a reflexive yet futile attempt to block bullets, but the gun was a Taser, and it fired darts. They struck the can of Coke he held, sparked, and deflected from their target.

Reacting instantly, David slammed the door again in the same heartbeat the driver lunged forward, and the sound of its connection with his face was solid. The door slowly opened, and the man staggered forward, blood spurting from his nose and lips.

A month ago, David wouldn’t have known what to do.

Now he did.

He swung, hard, and the man dropped to the floor.

David thought quickly. There had been two men in the Land Rover that had intercepted him and Jess. Driver
and
passenger.

He checked the hallway. Empty.

He bent down, patted the man’s pockets, and found keys and a small plastic box with extra darts for the Taser gun. He used the man’s belt to secure his hands. Then he locked the door to the hall. His eyes swept the cubicles, chairs, and saw—

Something that broke the pattern.

The back wall of filing cabinets, the one unit without a plastic shroud. Its middle drawer was open.

David ran to the unit, looked in the drawer. A biometric hand scanner—Jess and Bakana
had
come in here.

David dragged the unconscious man back to the cabinet, freed his hands, and placed one of them on the scanner.

A soft chime sounded, and a wall panel slid aside.

David retied his captive’s hands, then stepped through the opening.

He was at the top of a staircase that wound down into a vast artificial cavern with a massive vault door at one end. The door was disklike, shining stainless steel, open to reveal a large tunnel.

The only other ways in or out of the cavern appeared to be three smaller, unprotected tunnels. David guessed those led to the loading-dock garage doors he’d seen when he and Jess drove in.

The conclusion was obvious: The Shop lay beyond the vault door.

He started down the stairs. A cry rang out behind him.

The second man.
The Rover’s passenger was in the opening to the staircase, shouting into a radio.

A siren soared into earsplitting life. On the floor below, spinning lights flashed into action, smearing wild reflections in the vault door’s sheen.

The air shook as the deep rumble of powerful hydraulic pumps began.

The silver disk was closing.

The blare of the siren drowned out Jess’s shout of “Why?”

Victoria grabbed her laptop and rushed for the door. “We only shut it for drills and—”

She stopped dead. Bakana stood in the open doorway. “You need to stay in your office,” she said.

Victoria tried to push past her assistant, but Bakana took her arm and firmly forced her back. “You need to stay here.” The assistant glared at Jess. “You, too.”

Victoria wrested her arm free, furious. “What is this about?”

Jess knew the answer. “Me.”

Bakana closed the door behind her. From the hallway, Jess could hear running footsteps, the rise and fall of worried voices. The scholars working here would be hurrying to do exactly what her cousin had done: retrieve their computers and vital notes. Just in case.

“You have no right to detain either of us,” Victoria said.

“I’m doing this for the Family.”

Jess knew why this was happening. “No, you’re not. Whatever Su-Lin’s told you, it’s not true.”

“Why would she lie?” Bakana looked back and forth between her two captives. “She’s a defender like the two of you. You both know things I don’t. The 144 know things I don’t. Keeping knowledge secure is how the Family survives. But now
you
”—she pointed at Jess—“you’re threatening everything we are with your stories of a false temple! You’re helping Ironwood!”

The siren stopped abruptly. The sudden silence was unnerving.

“The door’s closed now. We’re sealed in for at least a day.” Victoria held her laptop to her chest. “I agree with you, Bakana. We do need to keep some knowledge hidden. That
is
how we survive. But, having been a defender for more than twenty years, I can tell you that not all of us at the table agree with one another. I’m going to call Su-Lin. I’m certain this can all be sorted out.”

Bakana held her position blocking the door. “They want Jessica back in Zurich. Just to talk. That’s why they don’t have guns.”

“Who doesn’t have guns?”

“The people from Cross.” Bakana stepped aside as the office door began to open. “They’re here to take her back.”

David rushed for the vault door as the sirens wailed and the immense steel disk ponderously shifted, gaining momentum. Without breaking pace, he glanced back.

The Rover’s passenger was halfway down the spiral staircase. David recognized the blocky black weapon he carried. A Taser gun.

He raced on. Getting past the vault door was his only chance of escape, but the huge disk was already halfway through its arc—in ten seconds, it would be closed. Behind him he heard the clanging of the metal stairs end as his pursuer reached the ground.

Ahead of him, the opening to the tunnel narrowed, nearly covered by the immense steel disk. David twisted sideways, skidding into the five-foot depth of the locking frame, slipping through just as a crackling Taser dart sparked off the disk’s outside edge and the towering cold bulk closed.

Safe.

The hydraulics growled to a stop, and the door’s locking pegs sprang out to hold it fast.

The siren stopped.

David moved. Felt resistance. Something held him. He twisted, awkward.

His shirt. The tail of it caught in the door.

He yanked on the trapped fabric. No success. In frustration, he pulled his khaki shirt open, ripping buttons off, finally pulling free and turned to keep running, just as a third Cross bodyguard Tasered him.

Bakana backed away from Victoria’s office door as the bodyguard pushed a figure in ahead of him.