CHAPTER FOUR

2116 CE

There was something about the tunnels. 

“Historically, these shouldn’t exist at all.” At least that was the opinion of Dr. Edgar Fletcher, the lead archaeologist on Cullin’s Sigma 6 dig team. The Amazon excavation was set up around a collapsed cliff surrounded on all other sides by dense jungle. While most of the structure was decimated in the landslide, its bits and pieces being slowly cataloged by Fletcher’s underlings, there were still intact tunnels within the unstable cliffside. 

“There is no known ancient Amazonian culture with stonework of this form.” The shadows under Fletcher’s eyes always hung low in those days. I never thought I could meet someone more tirelessly obsessive than Clive Cullin, but Fletcher took the prize. The two men were in a constant push-pull of conflict for control of the dig. Fletcher’s expertise obviously qualified him in ways that Cullin could not match in the field of archaeology, yet it quickly became clear that Sigma 6’s focus was not on human history as we understood it. 

Everything about the jungle seemed slightly off. Julian’s security team was anything but small. It seemed like overkill to us at first, until we arrived at the base camp and saw the heavy electric fences set up around the campgrounds. 

“Keeps the critters out,” Barclay cryptically told us as Julian and I got set up in our tent.

“So all of that in your debrief…” Julian said. “That problem getting worse?”

“Excuse me, but what problem is that?” I felt completely out of the loop. Despite my own role in pushing this career move for my husband forward, I wasn’t certain what my own role could be in this place, beyond Amara’s caretaker. It wasn’t a feeling I enjoyed. 

Julian and Barclay shared a nervous look. “It seems that the jungle life has…been disturbed by something in this area,” Barclay explained.

“Some of the science team’s early reports suggest it might have something to do with the temple remains,” Julian added. “And there was one incident…” He looked to Barclay to finish that thought for him.

“Come on, man, you’re really making me tell her? Fine. We lost a researcher last month.”

“Lost them? To what?” I asked, glancing at Amara, who merely rolled around on her camp bed, blissfully unaware. 

“...we’re not exactly sure. He vanished without a trace. There were no clear tracks left behind. Maybe it was one of the guerilla troupes fighting for control of the Allied States…but like I said, we’re cautioning against interactions with all wildlife. Just in case. An unusually large three-toed sloth attacked Private Reynolds a few weeks back on the temple outskirts. I led the response team. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, the poor thing’s behavior…it was off-kilter. Like it was hearing something the rest of us couldn’t detect…I had to put it down.” 

It almost sounded like a joke–but I could tell from Barclay’s face it was no laughing matter. We dropped the subject, but the whine and hum of the electric fences was more noticeable now. While the dig site was full of excitement, that hum spoke to me of an underlying paranoia. An unease, just under the surface. 

But what it also gave me was a purpose here. What use was a biochemist at an archaeological dig? I soon got my answer. Cullin took me aside in the first week, ushering me into his tent after a team meeting one evening. 

In the wake of Marilyn’s coma, he was quieter than I remembered. While not a verbose man by any means, Cullin was always passionate with his work. In the jungle, though, I felt that he was in the midst of some internal crisis of confidence. “What are we really doing here, Clive?” I went direct, taking the strategy I thought Marilyn might. 

Cullin shifted uncomfortably. He glanced up to the right, as if conferring with something unseen before looking down again at the ground–where his eyeline usually rested these days. “My team will be taking samples from any and all aspects of the fallen structure here. I would like your expertise, Lilla, in analyzing them.” 

“Old stone and fossil? I can tell you right now what you’re going to find. Hydrocarbons, collagens, polysaccharides–unless there’s something specific you’re looking for?” 

Cullin did his mental arithmetic, measuring his trust in me. Again, I tried to embody the Lilla that Marilyn saw, knowing not that fictitious person’s content but striving to match her ideal. Finally, Cullin admitted the truth. “Sigma 6 was created for the sole purpose of investigating what we believe to be alien matter hidden on our planet.”

“Matter?”

“Artifacts. Perhaps…remnants. From a time long ago.”

This was why the Keepers sent me here. But how much did they already know? 

Cullin sat up, trying to hide his own unease on the subject. “But what matters, what I need from you…is to tell me. When you look beneath the glass at what we find here…what do you see?”

Nothing much, not in those early months. The Keepers were just as anxious to learn more as Cullin was, though they did not react or give me further context when the word alien was brought into my missives. I decided that I would keep them at arm’s length, even were I to discover more. I wanted to know enough to provide them with no other recourse than to reveal the wider context of the Keepers’ interest in Sigma 6. 

While the stonework and symbols were not known to this part of the world, the stone certainly was. It was not unusual material compared with other ancient sites dated to the era around South America. However, much of the remaining tunnels still remained unexplored. Members of the team attempted to develop digitized reconstructions of how this temple site might have looked, though it was thought that much of the structure was already lost. The tunnels were not all connected and the paths were thought to be treacherous. 

Yet they all branched out of an area we called the antechamber. With a high, pyramidal ceiling, a web of symbology was carved upon the walls leading up to that central point. Not language, though there were elements of script to it, but not quite hieroglyphic either. It was worn away and incomplete in many places, but the enigma was enough to fuel everyone’s curiosity for tireless work. 

As soon as the structure was verifiably safe, Julian brought me and Amara to see it in person. Amara feared the dark and dank chamber for only a few moments. We took her close to the walls. She reached out to touch but we made sure she wasn’t quite close enough. Cullin wouldn’t like our contaminants all over it. Julian, Amara, and I all traced a path along the symbols as we circled the chamber. 

“Take it in, Amara,” Julian whispered to her. “This is something almost no one has ever seen. Something beyond belief. But get used to it, kid–because I think that’s the kind of life you’re going to live.” 

I turned around once before we left, as night fell outside and another team meeting was being called to session. I don’t think Julian ever saw it, but maybe Amara did as she clung to me. A faint ring of blue light encircled the antechamber, dim but unmistakable–traced in the exact path we had just walked, as if it had reacted to our presence. 

“Julian, look – !” But by the time I spoke my observation aloud, the light faded away. Julian questioned me but I changed course. This seemed to be a discovery that only I had made so far, and I decided I want to be at its forefront. 

The next day, I received permission to take samples from the antechamber walls. I estimated and drew samples from the regions where I had walked the night before with my family. Sure enough, beyond the usual readings on the makeup of this stone, there were trace amounts of a substance that I’d never before encountered. I took my findings to Cullin.

“How many people know about this?” 

“None yet. I figured…it should be run by you first.”

Cullin lost himself in his head for nearly a minute. “Good. Let’s catalog these findings but don’t make a show of it yet. I want to get deeper into those other chambers.”

I persisted. “Sure, but were you expecting something like this? The substance is not one I can readily identify.”

“You might expect more of that, to be honest with you,” Cullin sighed. That night I finally pried it out of him. Preston Swift had put Cullin on the hunt after uncovering an ancient artifact that was also engaged in strange quantum behavior. Sigma 6 was on the hunt for objects that shared this property of seemingly existing in multiple places at once. 

“This could save us. If…if there are other species out there, and they have left these behind for a reason…we have to decode this message.” 

Such an objective seemed like another Sigma moonshot. The allowance of Swift’s private interests to guide a secret division was disquieting enough, but if the goal was to harness the discovery of the existence of alien life as some kind of escape hatch for humanity… 

To me, it seemed like we were playing with fire. And it seemed the Keepers agreed. The message I received from them in response to my report was particularly brief:

Proceed with investigation.

Utilize extreme caution.

I wondered if Enoch knew what he had sent my family into. I wondered if he even cared. Then I stopped wondering and got back to work. It seemed that only the truth would set me free. So I decided to be the one who would find it first. 

I got up before the sun rose to escape the worst of the heat. I unzipped our large canvas tent. Julian stood with Barclay nearby at an equipment prep station. 

“Thanks for keeping an eye on her, I know you’ve had a long night,” Julian told his friend. “You know me and my niece are always down to have breakfast together. Even if she throws most of it at me.” 

Julian was off to supervise the borders of the camp. Rumors swirled that the Allied States were not so allied anymore. A rebel faction had set up shop nearby and Julian’s team were now full-time monitors to ensure no one tried to raid our artifact storage or attempt to commandeer the camp entirely. It wasn’t thought that anyone outside of Sigma 6 knew what we were truly after, but the longer we stayed here the more their curiosity was sure to grow. 

With Cullin leading a dig on the outskirts of the landslide wreckage zone, the tunnels were mostly empty. I tagged in Barclay for babysitting duty so that I could go spelunking. Dr. Fletcher would have to accompany me, but this was the most privacy I was going to get so I needed to take advantage. 

I joined Julian and Barclay, and picked up my walkie from the charging station. “Don’t let my daughter bully you too much, Major.”

Barclay saluted. After kissing Julian goodbye, we parted ways and I soon joined Fletcher at the entrance to the antechamber, wearing a portable drill strapped to his belt that seemed to be twice his body weight. He twitched at the jungle sounds that arose all around us. “There you are!” He started when he caught sight of me. “I don’t like standing out here in the open. Let’s hustle.” 

I lagged behind Fletcher, hoping he would get distracted and allow me some alone time to search through the tunnels. Cullin refused to brief Fletcher on the substance I had discovered within some of the stonework, but I thought it was only a matter of time until he made the discovery himself. Once the team finished on the outskirts, the tunnels would become the primary focus of the investigation. That said, Fletcher was briefed on the true goals of Sigma 6 and had even seen the famed Salish object that started Swift and Cullin’s hunt in the first place. 

“I truly do believe that what we are seeing here is some kind of ancient cult that worshiped these potentially alien beings. Yet the fact that it’s hidden also brings up some very interesting considerations…” 

While his theories were unsubstantiated, I got the impression that Fletcher’s flights of imagination were plausible. Like Cullin, he was the type who did not fear the unorthodox. He even seemed to lust after it–and Fletcher was a particularly lusty type in general. Despite the presence of his wife and fellow researcher Alicia in the camp, and the fact of their four-year-old daughter Tara, I had caught Fletcher eyeing me on more than one occasion. I was hardly attracted to him–as Julian and my spark had returned in good order since our arrival here–but it had helped me secure this secluded tour. I wasn’t above pulling a few heartstrings, so I indulged his didacticism for the moment. 

“And what considerations might those be, Dr. Fletcher?” 

“Well, look around. This was well hidden. Sophisticated engineering, planning…but function, too. The antechamber is plain, but down this hall, I’ve already found multiple spaces that might have housed those who used this place. And…what I believe to be a temple.” 

We came to a crossroads. One tunnel led toward what was known to be a caved-in wall, while the other led deeper into the structure. It had not been fully vetted yet, but Fletcher was clearly biting at the bit to get in there.  

“Does Cullin know?”

Fletcher’s sigh burst like a bullet of air. “No. Dr. Cullin does not like to hear my speculation, I have found. So I will prove myself first.”

That, I could relate to. “So this structure was a place of worship?”

“Perhaps…a place to showcase, to collect, and to preserve the secrets they did not want to spread. A buried mythology, one that the inhabitants hoped to keep that way. A temple, a museum…”

“A cult.” 

“Oh, yes, at the very minimum.” Fletcher turned on his headlamp and faced down the hall. “That’s where I’m going today, if you’d like to join me?” 

No, I did not want to join Edgar Fletcher in the depths of some dark room–but his theory was actually quite tantalizing. This might be my only chance before the tunnels were flooded with the full team. 

But then my eyes caught upon something showing through a piece of stone near the floor. I looked away quickly, so Fletcher wouldn’t catch on. “Go on without me. But I’ll join you. I want to see this temple myself.” 

Fletcher shrugged, clearly disappointed, and began his way down the hall. “Just don’t tell your husband about this. He wouldn’t like that we’re venturing so deep.” 

“Our little secret, Dr. Fletcher,” I intoned with just a hint of sarcasm. I figured he was self-absorbed enough that he wouldn’t notice. 

I was right. Satisfied that Fletcher was far down the hallway, I knelt to inspect my finding. These halls were not as ornamented as the antechamber’s walls, but there was still unique stonework. Most of it was in rough shape, deformed and broken by the years, but here was a piece that retained its original shape–and the tiny gem nestled into it like a glimmering eye in the shade of this place. 

It was a dark blue, nearly black. Like a void space in the rock, one I could have easily missed. I checked around the wall with my light, but there were no other gems like this one in the stonework. A rare sighting. 

From the end of Fletcher’s hallway, the sound of his drill echoed. Fletcher was making some excavations of his own–so he would never hear my small pick and hammer. Using a technique that Alicia had shown me a few months earlier at one of the outer digs, I knocked the gem loose and caught it in my gloved palm. 

It was the same color as the glow I’d seen that night with Julian and Amara. This was a full sample of the unidentified material from the stonework. Perhaps the only sample of the substance that measurably existed – ! 

My walkie buzzed, startling me from my reverie. I recognized the voice of Private Reynolds, the youngest member of Julian’s team. “Attention to those in the tunnel excavation zone. Repeat, attention.” I held the walkie close to better hear her voice over the sound of Fletcher’s drill. “Scouts spotted what appeared to be a large green anaconda, a…very large anaconda, entering the cave-in above the northern tunnel segment. Scouts lost sight, position of the anaconda unknown. Calling in the security team, but to those in the area–vacate immediately.” 

Fletcher’s drilling continued unabated. He was a man prone to not hear you speaking right in his ear–and that hallway led directly north. The predator’s jaws would be unhinged before he even caught a hint of it. 

The walkie buzzed again. “This is an emergency, I repeat, emergency evacuation of the tunnel site! A second anaconda has been spotted near the northern cave-in – !” 

I bagged the sample and took the battery out of the walkie before I even knew what I was doing. I got to my feet and headed for the exit. Fletcher would be fine. From what I knew, anacondas were not known for aggressive behavior toward humans. The security team would be there soon. And at the end of the day, I couldn’t put my life on the line for him. I was a mother.

And a Keeper. 

Yet in retrospect, I will try to tell it more truthfully, because I also felt that Fletcher’s loss would not be an altogether negative outcome. A tragedy, of course–I’m not a monster. But he had given me a very important insight. An advantage. While his death would slow progress, it wouldn’t be for long. Cullin was as desperate as I was to find the truth. The more time went by, the more I noticed the similarity in our intensity. I doubt he noticed it in me, though. His eyes were always elsewhere. I think we both sat together because we couldn’t be with Marilyn instead. She was a confidant lost to both of us. I wondered if that’s what he thought–whatever Sigma 6 was, whatever the true intentions, I came to believe that Cullin was doing this all for Marilyn. That was his desperation, without a doubt. 

It was one I could use. Predict. Control. Fletcher was something different. His interest in this study was the most dangerous kind–not self interest but pure, chaotic curiosity. 

But all this calculus wouldn’t matter. Nothing would happen. He would survive. And I would get this sample to the Keepers without anyone suspecting a thing. 

Then I heard his voice, headed my way. “I’ll take the direct approach, get a team above the cave-in site for evac!” Julian turned the corner and ran straight into me. 

“Thank God – !” 

“Julian…” My instinct got me this far so I relied upon it again. “What’s wrong?”

“Where’s your goddamned walkie?!” Julian looked at my belt. He grabbed the device and tried the power. 

“It died, that’s why I was on my way out – ”

“Fletcher…what about him? You were meeting him here.” 

I guess he did keep some tabs on me. “He’s digging in the far chamber.” 

“So he doesn’t know?”

“Doesn’t know what?” The hint of annoyance on his face genuinely angered me, even though every word I spoke to him was a lie. 

“Get out, now!” Julian pointed toward the exit. “Get back to Amara. Everything’s going to be fine.” He broke away from me and ran deeper down the tunnel. “I’ll be right back!” 

My anger sank when I realized he was still trying to keep me calm. Reassure me. Protect me, even when I didn’t need it. The burn of shame cooled into dread. 

Julian wasn’t wrong. Amara shouldn’t be alone. To even risk the loss of both her parents, when provided the alternative, was unconscionable. Julian was no longer my primary mission. 

Only my husband. My best friend. Her father. 

There was no time to get a weapon of my own. I had already wasted enough time. I turned around and followed Julian into the darkness. 

I followed the sound of Fletcher’s drill. Even with my headlamp I could only see a few paces in front of me. As long as that drill was alive, so was Fletcher. And Julian. 

So of course it very shortly cut out, only to be replaced by erratic shouts. By the time I stumbled into the temple, the anaconda had a hold of Fletcher. 

At least one of them did. Across the circular floor of the temple chamber, Julian stood dwarfed by the second snake. Whereas the one that spiraled around Fletcher’s lower torso must have been close to thirty feet long, it was dwarfed by the other–fifty feet at least, and wider than Julian could hope to grasp. 

Julian saw me in his peripheral vision. He tensed but didn’t lose his military focus. “Help him! I’ll keep it busy.” 

The giant basilisk dove for Julian. He rolled beneath it but was still blocked in by the back end of its coil. I lost sight of him as he vaulted over its body as its head whipped back around for him–and I took up the drill Fletcher had dropped. 

The smaller anaconda seemed distracted, dragging the archaeologist along the ground as it put distance between itself and the larger one. I got close enough for its tail end to lash my feet out from under me. It spun around and faced me–the drill now laid between me and its jaws, opening wide to strike. 

Julian cried out behind me, as something heavy smashed into stone. The anaconda coming for me was distracted as rocks fell from the unstable ceiling above. Glimmers of the outside world shone through but it only stood to make everything more surreal. I rolled over onto my back to find Julian. He was crouched, sore and winded, having just dodged the basilisk as it slammed its head against the temple wall in fury. 

He was cornered. “Lilla…” 

There was nothing I could do to reach him in time.

“Get Fletcher! GET OUT OF HERE!” 

I leapt for the drill, and before the snake knew what was coming, rolled forward and activated against the roof of its mouth–and through its brain. Fletcher used its convulsion to slip free and scramble away from the creature. I left the drill impaled and moved backward as it collapsed. 

I grabbed Fletcher and looked for Julian–but the basilisk had turned from him. I thought it had found us, but no–as I pulled Fletcher toward the tunnel archway, the basilisk slid right past. Julian used that moment to escape. We made it out, but I was compelled to see. “The bigger one…it’s a female,” Julian said as he tugged at my arm. 

“She’s mourning…”

“No.” The basilisk lurched and bit into the flesh of the smaller male. “She’s hungry.” We turned the corner and lost sight of the reptilian cannibalism. “I read up on them in the recon files. After mating, the females sometimes use the male body for fuel.” 

Still gasping for breath, the crazed Fletcher grasped at both me and Julian. “It’s…it’s…” Fletcher gestured back toward the temple.

“It’s over, man!” Julian looked ready to slap him. “We’re out, we’re safe, it’s going to be okay–” 

“Stop!” Suddenly, Fletcher escaped us and backed against the wall. “I know…we’re safe. But when that monster’s done…feasting on that poor bastard…we have to get back in there! I found something major. A preserved artifact. A prized one. If what I see is right…I have found an object that was highly cherished.” Fletcher looked at me. “Or deeply feared.” 

The Allied States were on the edge of collapse, Sigma 6’s time in the Amazon was drawing to a close…

And the Keepers wanted the chestplate. 

That was Fletcher’s major find–far more impressive than an unidentifiable gem, I had to admit. We had to wait out the basilisk and her meal, but she soon moved deeper into the earth to reproduce–the return route sealed off behind her on Cullin’s orders. The excavation could not wait. 

It appeared to be the chestplate of some warrior or ceremonial figure. Cullin and Fletcher both thought it was fully alien in origin. My own testing proved it. Peculiar alloys with organic signatures. “Less like this Artifact was constructed…and more that it was grown.” Cullin’s oversight on the project meant I could hide very little from him. Whatever he saw in it, his desperation grew. It seemed the object and its possibilities frightened everyone as much as they excited us too. Cullin lifted the curtain for those beyond his inner circle–the true goal of Sigma 6 was to access the mysterious power of these artifacts and open a quantum portal to another world.

But now that mission was threatened. Everything was ordered to be packed up and shipped out before the various factions of the Allied States came for us. We were running low on time to figure out the program’s next lead. I acquired the transport schedules and ran them by my handlers. In response, they assigned me an urgent task:

Intercept chestplate transport three clicks outside camp.

Transfer to provided agent.

Leave no trace.

The chestplate was scheduled to depart the grounds in two days. Leave no trace? Provided agent? My mind raced. Julian’s private Reynolds was the assigned driver. I wasn’t going to kill her–so how was I supposed to offload the chestplate without her notice? And who was this provided agent…? 

Our tent zipped open and I hid away the transmitter. Julian stepped inside. A stony silence remained between us, ever since the anaconda attack in the temple. Once again, both of us were hailed as heroes. Fletcher had even quit his bothersome behavior around me. Yet on the night that followed the attack, Julian questioned me. 

“It’s only…your walkie. Why was the battery dead? We pulled them from the same charging station, at the same time this morning.” 

I tried to keep my voice down as Amara had just fallen asleep. “What do you want me to say? The battery was faulty. Not exactly conspiracy inducing.” 

Julian shook his head. “...I don’t pry, Lilla. I know there are things that you don’t tell me. I don’t know what they are. But give me some credit.” 

“You think I left Fletcher there to die?” 

“I don’t know, maybe you were scared. That’s fine, but why lie to me? There are just aspects of this like…what happened with Reed.” 

I stuttered, out of panic I hoped would be disguised as righteous indignation. “You’re questioning me on Reed now?”

“It… never quite made sense to me. That signature on the security log. It wasn’t my module that you used. It couldn’t have been.”

“I told you then, I’ll tell you now. It was the module that Reed had on him. Maybe he reprogrammed it, or…I don’t know, Julian. I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

He leveled his gaze on me. “Same as always. The truth. Or as close to it as you can manage.” Amara stirred and we both quieted. Julian picked up Amara and rocked her in his arms. “Forget it. We’re alive. That’s what matters. Just…get some rest.” 

Clearly, the thoughts lingered in his mind, as they did in mine. Whatever ground we had gained back while in the Amazon was lost in an uncertain haze–but I had no time for salvage work. Now I had to focus. 

The night of the chestplate’s transport was upon me. Julian was overseeing work in the tunnels as the final fragments were collected for storage. Amanda Fletcher agreed to watch over Amara, as her own daughter Tara found my infant greatly amusing and Amanda still felt she owed me for saving her husband’s life. I told her that I was meeting with Cullin for a classified discussion on my research, but instead I slipped off into the dark green behind our block of tents wearing the darkest clothing I owned. 

I utilized the faint light from my transmitter to guide me. It took an hour to reach the road where the chestplate’s transport truck was scheduled to cross. I checked the time–ten minutes ahead of schedule. Cutting it close. I pulled out the small explosive I had rigged together and placed it in the truck’s path. When it drove up, I would blow one of the tires and subdue Reynolds with a sedative I had concocted. I would be able to incapacitate her without permanent harm and leave her woozy enough to buy the next part of the cover story. I shook up a can of paint. With that, I would leave the sigil of a local militia known to be active in this area. It was rumored that they were already displeased with our digging around in their territory. As far as Reynolds would be able to tell, the militia would have absconded with the chestplate and vanished into the night.

Now the only question that remained was my handlers’ mention of an agent. There was nowhere I could hide this chestplate, so I depended on their planning to finalize the extraction. 

I heard the brush rustle behind me. I dropped the can and assumed a defensive position. A figure in a tight cloak emerged, a polished metal mask hiding their face–like an old Greek statue. She held a finger to her carved lips. 

“Nice to meet you too…” I tried to play it cool but this was only the second Keeper I had ever known in my life. 

We heard the engine as the truck approached. The Keeper crouched next to me in the brush. “Wait for it,” I ordered, wanting to still be in control. “And follow my lead.” 

Yet forty feet from the target zone, the truck slowed and came to a halt. The door opened and Private Reynolds emerged, a tentative look on her face. Had she spotted us? 

No. Someone else was here. A four-wheeler broke through the foliage on the other side of the road from our watch point. The man took off his helmet.

It was Cullin. 

The Keeper rose to move but I held her back. Her voice growled low in my ear. “We can take them both quickly – ”

“No. This wasn’t my plan.”

“You’re not in charge.”

“I am. Do you really want this program shut down before we get to the truth?” My grip on her was unrelenting. Finally, she eased back down into the grass. 

The only words she spoke were under her breath. “The truth.” Derisive. But apparently convinced enough. 

I tried to provide more context. “That man in the clearing runs the entire program. He shouldn’t be here. He already authorized this transport.” 

I listened as closely as I could but the jungle noise, ever alive, made it tricky to hear Cullin’s voice. “...confidential…you understand?” 

Private Reynolds looked beyond Cullin, as a truck came up the road behind them. 

“This is a setup,” the Keeper whispered.

I shook my head. No, Cullin was too calm. He wasn’t a man who orchestrated violence. But schemes? I supposed that Sigma 6 in its entirety was one large secret scheme, wasn’t it? 

Cullin waved down the new truck. Two men climbed out that I didn’t recognize. “–Swift’s orders, I’ve already told Julian.” 

Reynolds seemed unsure, but was far too junior to question Cullin in this situation. Ever since the chestplate was uncovered, people’s reverence for Cullin had skyrocketed. He convinced us all that we were at the center of something great. A man like that deserved his control, even if some of it was obscured. 

At least that’s how Reynolds must have felt as she helped the two unknown men–Swift’s men?–open the back of the transport and carefully unload the chestplate. The Keeper and I could do nothing but sit back and watch. Once it was transferred to the new truck, the men climbed back into the truck without a word, backed up, and turned around. Even if my explosive had been planted in its path, Cullin lingered with Reynolds until the truck was out of sight, then both took off back toward the camp. 

The Keeper and I finally stood. 

“I hope you know what you’re playing with,” the Keeper said, her back already turned to me as she readied herself to depart. 

“Your presence was a bit of a surprise too, you know?”

“Your superiors informed you that I would be here,” she replied as she slipped away into the jungle–

But I followed close behind. My adrenaline still rushed from the missed attempt and I directed it toward her–and the frantic need, rising up the back of my throat, to beg her for answers. Here was someone real. Not Enoch, not my faceless handlers. Someone like me. A field agent. “Please, hold on–” 

The Keeper ignored me and strode into the next clearing toward a strangely shaped bush. She grabbed it–a camouflaged cover–and pulled it off to reveal a sleek mechanical flyer. Julian had described similar machines from his time in the Special Forces. 

“Hold on. We can figure this out. I’ll find out where it went, just wait. I have more context, a working theory of what’s actually happening here–” 

The Keeper hefted the flyer up and strapped it to their back. “And why haven’t you already related as much to your handlers?” 

“I…I was waiting. Until I had enough, something that made sense, but you’re here, let’s talk, we can figure this out.”

“Not my job. Not yours either. Your job just drove off to God knows where. Admit it, the chestplate is lost to us.”

I tried to formulate the words that would convince her otherwise but they didn’t exist. She was right. I was already close enough to the edge with Cullin. The slightest breeze could nudge him into full blown paranoia. I wasn’t even sure if I would be able to hide my own suspicions of him now. 

“I just…need more. The Keepers have sent me into something but it’s getting bigger than I can fully grasp. I put my family on the line–” 

“That’s not how Enoch put it,” the Keeper flatly stated. “This was what you wanted. At every point you could have turned away, refused. But it’s time for you to remember your true function. We gave you a life. You give us your eyes–without question.” The Keeper activated her flyer. The whine of its power source was nearly silent. It seemed that she was done with me.

I felt that instinct coming alive now. The action before thought. Thought manifested as action. The real Lilla, the one Devi found in me. And the real Lilla was not done with this Keeper. One foot in front of the other, speed picking up, seeing how taking her at the knees would unbalance her and provide me the chance to shut off the flyer’s engine. Perhaps the pressure points I had planned to use on Reynolds could find a new target. 

And when this Keeper awoke, she might be much more amenable to answering my questions. To giving me what I deserved. I saw the Keeper’s own innate training react, her senses spiking toward danger–but I still had the head start. It wouldn’t be so hard. Maybe it was what I had been waiting for my entire life. 

I stopped, two feet short of her. She remained tense, but let the flyer take her up. I recalled in a flash the sight of a great horned owl, late one winter night on the HAST grounds, rising up into the sky before I lost sight of it in the falling snow. Silent, like some dark angel. 

I let the Keeper go. I remembered my proper place. 

I expected condemnation from the Keepers. The end of my assignment. The correction of the mistake they had made in bringing me back into the fold. 

But no, they were never that chatty, after all.

Remain embedded.

Determine Cullin’s ultimate goal–and the reach of knowledge within Sigma 6. 

So I stayed–and my patience was rewarded, if that’s how you want to look at it. As expected, the security logs conveniently excluded any sign of Cullin’s midnight transfer–but there was something bigger than the chestplate on the horizon now. 

In the final days of the Amazon dig, Cullin called me and Fletcher into his private lab. He ordered us to help him lower the infamous Salish object into a tank of water. His latest theory was to analyze the quantum vibrations inherent in this and some of the other found objects and seek out the frequency elsewhere on the globe. 

As matches appeared on our map, I realized that I was furthering his goals that I still could not understand–goals that clearly disturbed the Keepers. I eased up on the knob that I was using to hone the signal, but Cullin compelled me onward until we found the largest signature. Our next destination was found: the Arctic Circle.

And so there I sat, Amara in my lap, as our Sigma Evac lowered down upon the icy surface of the Arctic. Amara pressed her face against the glass and blew clouds. “Mama! Brrrr!” Julian sat across from us and laughed, but I felt that our Evac was sinking due to the weight of the dark thoughts gathered in my mind. I could not escape the sense that by bringing my family here–I might have doomed us all. 

And perhaps the world with us.