Unknown 9 by Layton Green (e reader txt) 📗

the bridge suggested a man-made origin, which some believe was evidence of the legendary Rama Empire, or even an underwater civilization akin to Atlantis. Though not a believer, Andie had never had a problem with the concept of Atlantis. Nearly all ancient cultures had a flood myth, and plenty of them had tales of ancient cities that had “fallen into the sea.”

And why not? Homo sapiens had been present on Earth for at least two hundred thousand years, possibly far longer. While Andie did not believe in an ancient Atlantis founded by aliens and given advanced technology, a few hundred thousand years was an extremely long time for civilizations to rise and fall, for ice ages and other disasters to wipe away all traces.

The next exhibit was a reproduction of Hindu epics that spoke of mechanized beings that could move of their own accord. One recounted how King Ashoka waged a terrible battle against fierce automaton warriors guarding relics of the Buddha hidden in an underground chamber.

The placards admitted the stories were myth, but the very idea of such an ancient culture dreaming of electric sheep was shocking to Andie. It was almost as if technology and human imagination had been cast in the same cosmic forge, twinned forces lost in the prehistory of the big bang, separated at birth and slowly finding their way back together.

What would happen when they merged?

She kept moving through the dizzying exhibits, trying to find a connection. Next was a stunning replica of Nalanda, an ancient Buddhist monastery and center of learning that had rivaled the Library of Alexandria. Pilgrims to the site spoke of vast halls and colleges, jewel-adorned towers with fairy-tale turrets lost in the clouds, and beautiful observatories that glittered dreamlike in the morning fog—all displayed in 3-D miniature inside the glass case. Built in the fifth century BCE, Nalanda had served as a beacon of education and enlightenment for eight hundred years until burned to the ground during a Muslim invasion.

Eight hundred years of lost knowledge. That’s longer than most nations have been in existence.

King Ashoka, the placard claimed, had erected a temple at the site of Nalanda in the third century BCE, and it was possible the site’s importance dated as far back as 1200 BCE.

Why does this Ashoka guy keep popping up?

Andie moved on. She knew she had to hurry. The remaining exhibits were mostly odes to the subcontinent’s amazing contributions over the millennia. Among the highlights were the counting system adopted by Arabs and then the entire world; distillation of perfumes; solutions for quadratic equations; ruler measurements; zinc smelting; chess; steel alloys used in the famed swords of Damascus; the oldest living religion and cosmology; the first iron-cased rockets, launched against the British in the eighteenth century; seamless metal globes developed in the sixteenth century that, when rediscovered in the 1980s, metallurgists had no idea how to reproduce. She was also utterly shocked to learn that Indian physicians were performing plastic surgeries, including cataract removal and rhinoplasty, in the sixth century BCE.

Jesus. I hope they had plenty of alcohol on hand.

When Andie finished with the last exhibit, she stood, contemplative, near the revolving doors at the entrance. The museum was fascinating and had transformed her view of ancient India.

Yet the Star Phone had not activated, and she had no idea what to do next.

If she was not on such a desperate mission, she would have reeled at these marvels of technology and culture, many of them developed before Roman legions had sailed to Carthage. And who knew the authors of the Vedic texts had dreamed of robots?

But she didn’t have time to reel. Her stomach was knotted with anxiety, and she kept expecting an Ascendant to burst into the room.

“Anything?” Cal asked as he wandered over.

“Zip. I have no idea what it’s all supposed to mean.”

“I was hoping I was just dense and you had some inspiration.”

“Dammit,” she said. “Maybe we’re at the wrong place.”

“I suppose. But it feels right, doesn’t it? All these weird artifacts. All this knowledge. It’s definitely got that old LYS feeling.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “It does.”

Think, Andie. What are you missing?

She moved to the center of the room, turning in a slow circle. Was there a secret door somewhere, or some special order to the exhibits?

Her eyes roamed to the guard himself, his desk, and the stand right beside it. Out of options, she walked over to peruse the hardbound book describing the exhibits. An RFID code could be hidden in the pages of the book as easily as on a glass case.

The book was full of glossy color photographs. Over two hundred pages long, it described each exhibit in far more detail than the placards. She hardly had time to scan every single page.

As she was examining the book, the guard’s phone rang. He took the call and, moments later, walked outside with a worried expression.

“What’s that about?” Cal said.

“I don’t know.” She took out the Star Phone and quickly scanned the front and back cover of the book, and a few pages at the beginning. Nothing.

“He’s walking back,” Cal said, peering through the glass, “and he doesn’t look happy.”

Desperate, Andie flipped to the table of contents. There were eighteen chapters listed, each pertaining to one of the exhibits in the room.

All of them except one.

She thought she remembered at least the name of every exhibit, but just to be sure, she whipped around and counted the number of glass cases. There were seventeen—one shy of the exhibits in the table of contents.

Eighteen was a multiple of nine.

Did that mean something? Or was she grasping?

She turned to the last chapter, the sole exhibit that was not displayed in the museum. Titled “Yantra,” it was a single page of text with no images. Very strange for such a long, colorful book.

She glanced at the guard. He had almost returned, and as Cal had said, he was hurrying forward with a grim expression.

She returned to the book and skimmed the entry. A yantra, Andie