The Three Secret Cities Page 2

  That was an understatement.

  It took a while, but with the others’ help, Jack told Zoe everything.

  About his kidnapping at Pine Gap, the Great Games, the four legendary kingdoms, the help he had received during the Games from a fellow champion named Scarecrow—‘and a fat but very gallant pilot who was a long way out of his comfort zone,’ Sky Monster added, holding up his bandaged right forearm as proof—and of course the cataclysmic end to the whole thing, when the minotaur army had stormed the mountain-palace and everything had gone to shit.

  Mae helped Jack explain the concept of the kingdoms to Zoe—the four ancient kingdoms of Land, Sea, Sky and Underworld—by showing her the special map of the world she had, one that showed the boundaries of the kingdoms superimposed over the usual national borders:

  Zoe said, ‘You’re saying that nations, parliaments and governments are just fronts for these four kingdoms? Tools for them to use?’

  ‘Yes, exactly,’ Mae said. ‘They are the real power players of the world.’

  Zoe shook her head. ‘All right then, so what do they want?’

  ‘What every ruler in history has ever wanted,’ Mae said. ‘To maintain their grip on power.’

  ‘What about you?’ Jack asked Zoe. ‘What did you and Nobody find at the Mariana Trench?’

  ‘Nobody’ was the nickname of Professor David Black, their friend and one of the foremost deep-sea diving specialists in the world. A protégé of Robert Ballard—the famed shipwreck hunter who had found the Titanic—Nobody Black divided his time between hunting for lost Spanish galleons filled with treasure and studying the bizarre sea life found in the darkest depths of the world’s oceans. He was part scientist, part seaman, all adventurer, and a good guy to boot.

  It was he who had called Zoe away two days before Jack had been kidnapped for the Games—to come and see a discovery he’d made in the Challenger Deep, the deepest part of the Mariana Trench. That trip had put her completely out of contact for a week. It may also have saved her life by ensuring her absence when Jack had been snatched.

  ‘What did we find?’ Zoe said. ‘Oh, nothing much . . . except for a sealed stone doorway ten kilometres below the surface of the Pacific Ocean with markings on it written in the Word of Thoth.

  ‘The twins and I went down in a submersible with Nobody to investigate and do some tests. Ground-penetrating radar showed something behind the doorway: not a chamber or void of any kind but rather a colossal deposit of a type of volcanic stone called picrite basalt.’

  ‘I’m thinking this isn’t just any old deposit,’ Alby said.

  ‘No. This deposit is enormous and completely wrapped in a thin crust of sea-stone. It’s also shaped like a perfect cube, seven kilometres to a side. Seven kilometres. With straight sides and edges. We also found more ornamental “doorways”, a lot more, dozens of them located at regular intervals around the cube-shaped deposit. I took some photos of the original doorway.’

  Zoe looked at Lily. ‘I was hoping you might be able to translate the markings on it.’

  ‘Sure,’ Lily said.

  Zoe handed her a photo of the submerged ornamental doorway illuminated by glaring floodlights. Square in shape and flanked by marble columns, it looked very out of place in the depths of the ocean.

  Lily saw an inscription on its upper lintel and translated it: ‘The world a wasteland of misery and pain.’

  She swapped a look with Jack as she said it.

  Zoe shook her head. ‘God help me. On any other day, mine would’ve been pretty amazing news, but after the time you’ve had . . . ’

  ‘Where’s Nobody now?’ Jack asked.

  ‘He went back to his lab in San Francisco, to retest the geological samples and see if they’ve been found in any other locations around the world.’

  ‘And Lachlan and Julius?’

  Jack loved the twins: two red-haired chatterbox Scottish geniuses who adored astrophysics, history, video games and all things Star Wars in equal measure.

  ‘They went back to London,’ Zoe said. ‘Despite his addiction to League of Legends, Lachie’s a family man now. He has responsibilities.’

  In the years since the twins had helped Jack find the Six Sacred Stones and unravel the mystery of the Five Greatest Warriors, they had shed a little of their Peter Pan natures and grown up.

  While Julius was still determinedly single, Lachie had met and married a sweet Japanese-American astrophysicist on the Cambridge faculty named Dr Eriko Kinoshita. They had two cute-as-a-button four-year-old twins named Caleb and Willow.

  Julius, ever the needler, took great joy in asking Lachie what kind of car he drove now.

  Lachie would bow his head. ‘A mom van.’ It was a red Nissan Quest: the ultimate mom van.

  On his birthday a few months back, Lachlan had awoken to find a racing number painted onto the bonnet and flanks of the red van: the number 55. A gift from Julius.

  ‘I just wanted to make it a little sexier,’ Julius had said with an impish grin.

  For all that, the twins were still the twins: as thick as thieves, brothers forever. That, Jack thought, was a bond that would never be broken. Indeed, Julius lived in a detached flat in the backyard of Lachie’s house just outside London.

  As for Pooh Bear and Stretch, after all the reunions had taken place, they returned to Pooh’s home in the United Arab Emirates.

  They took Iolanthe with them.

  They would take her as far as Dubai; from there she would return to the U.K. under her own steam.

  ‘I have to get back to the Hall of Royal Records and pick up a few items before Orlando does,’ she said to Jack as they stood on the dusty runway of his farm. ‘Then I need to disappear for a while. I imagine my darling brother is quite upset with me.’

  She scribbled quickly on a slip of paper: ‘Here. This is the number for a disposable phone I have. If you need me, use a burner phone of your own and text it. And thank you, Jack. Well done at the Games.’

  Then she kissed him on the cheek and left.

  Standing nearby, Zoe scowled.

  After the three of them were gone, Zoe and Lily sat down with Jack and set about stitching up his wounds.

  ‘My God,’ Zoe said at one point. ‘You really got beat up.’

  Jack winced. ‘Trust me, I feel every single bruise.’

  He wiped down his artificial left forearm—acquired after his own had been lost on the day of Lily’s birth twenty years previously—with a cloth, warm water and dish soap.

  Then he politely took his leave from everyone and, shadowed by his ever-loyal little poodle, Roxy, lay down for a hot bath in a corrugated iron tub out on the back deck.

  There he closed his eyes and finally, completely stopped.

  He breathed deeply, calming himself, letting the desert sun warm his eyelids, absorbing and enjoying the silence.

  That was, after all, what he loved the most about his secret farm.

  The silence. The calm. The total removal from the noisy outside world. He liked it here, away from everything.

  And after that gloriously peaceful hot bath, Jack went to bed and slept for thirty-six hours straight.

  Roxy remained by his side the whole time, lying on her back, paws skyward, equally exhausted.

  Mae decided to stay at Jack’s farm for a while, but for a specific reason.

  She wanted to talk with Hades about the four legendary kingdoms, her life’s work.

  Indeed, for a woman who was known for her take-no-prisoners severity, she was positively giddy at the prospect of it: she was like a presidential historian who actually got to interview a president, or the conspiracy theorist who finally got to go to Area 51.

  While Jack slept, she and Hades sat down together for lunch.

  Lily and Alby joined them: Lily now dressed in a grey ‘Han Shot First’ t-shirt and blue jean
s, and Alby in a maroon-and-yellow USC t-shirt and shorts.

  ‘So,’ Mae said. ‘The four kingdoms rule the world from the shadows. There are a few things that I just have to know.’

  ‘Okay,’ Hades said.

  ‘The Kennedy assassination. Was that the work of the kingdoms?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘We needed the Vietnam War to continue.’

  ‘Abraham Lincoln?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It was part of the deal we made with him.’

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘If he wanted immortality, he had to die.’

  ‘Princess Diana?’

  ‘No. That was just a drunk driver. A true shame.’

  ‘The moon landing?’ Mae’s eyes narrowed. ‘It was real, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Absolutely. And also very necessary,’ Hades added enigmatically. ‘The fourth landing was the important one.’

  ‘Do you rig elections?’

  ‘When we need to.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Woodrow Wilson in 1912.’

  ‘What about Trump?’ Lily asked, interjecting for the first time.

  ‘We didn’t have to.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It was going to happen anyway.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ Mae asked.

  ‘Because democracy is inherently flawed,’ Hades said. ‘When the citizens of a democracy grow too wealthy, they begin to view politics as entertainment, and when voters do that, they elect those who will entertain them.’

  Lily swapped an amazed look with Alby.

  Mae sat back in her chair and stared in wonderment at Hades.

  Hades gestured toward Alby’s shirt. ‘USC? Your name’s Calvin, you say? Albert Calvin?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Alby said.

  ‘I thought I recognised it. You’re studying ancient history and mythology, are you not?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But as I recall, you’re also doing astrophysics at Caltech.’

  ‘I am,’ Alby said, surprised. ‘How did you know that?’

  ‘I know professors at both institutions. Call them scouts, if you will. Their job is to send me the work of talented students who they think show promise. I’ve received papers you’ve written from both of my scouts, on historical and astronomical subjects. You make an impression.’

  ‘Well, I . . . thanks,’ Alby said, a little chuffed.

  Hades turned to Lily. ‘As for you, young lady, you also make an impression. Later, when things have quieted somewhat, I should very much like to speak with you about your singular heritage, your lineage.’

  ‘Okay . . .’ Lily said hesitantly. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Yes, later.’ Mae swatted their conversation away with mock annoyance. ‘Right now, Lord Hades is mine and I have more questions for him.’

  Hades just gave Lily a quick nod and turned back to Mae.

  And then, on the morning of his third day at home, Jack was shaken awake by Zoe.

  ‘Jack,’ she said urgently, ‘your new buddy Hades says he needs to talk to you right away. He says his world just went to shit.’

  ‘Captain,’ Hades said, ‘we have to go to New York. Now.’

  ‘Why?’ Jack asked, gripping a coffee mug.

  With them were Zoe, Lily, Alby and Mae, all listening attentively.

  ‘I just got this message on my emergency voicemail service from my butler in Manhattan.’

  Hades clicked a button on his cell phone and a recorded message played on the speaker:

  ‘Sir,’ a very prim and proper voice said, ‘it’s Geoffrey. Your assets are being attacked. All your trust accounts and shareholdings are being liquidated as I speak. All of your passwords have been changed and all of our computers have been shut out. After what happened at the Games, the new kings held a conclave and ordered forced-abdication proceedings against you.’

  There was a long pause.

  ‘And, sir, the Slave King has been called upon to apprehend both you and Captain West.’

  Jack threw a look at Hades.

  The prim voice went on. ‘I have spirited away those heirlooms and works of art that I know you cherish. They are safe for now in your little hideaway in Rome, along with your emergency cash fund. The Slave King must be on his way here right now. If there is anything else in the apartment that you need or want, I suggest you come here immediately and get it. As you know better than most, the Slave King is not to be trifled with.’

  Click.

  Jack looked hard at Hades. ‘Forced-abdication proceedings? And who or what is a Slave King? Are there actually five kings?’

  ‘No. Just four. “Slave King” is a name used by some in noble circles to describe a very dangerous royal official.’ Hades stared off into space for a moment. ‘I thought I would have more time. They moved fast. Two kings were killed during the chaos at the Games, but their royal families have clearly acted quickly and anointed their heirs as kings.’

  He looked at the group gathered around him. ‘And now the other three kings have turned against me. I am being decapitated. They are taking my crown from me. My title, my throne, my lands, my entire kingdom.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Formally, because the Games failed to produce a King of Kings,’ Hades said. ‘That was my sworn duty and I failed at it. Less formally, it’s probably because I failed to stop you from disrupting the Supreme Ceremony that was supposed to install Orlando as the King of Kings. And then I fled with you.’

  ‘And this Slave King, who is he?’

  Hades shook his head. ‘Every system must have a policeman, Jack. Someone who enforces the law. The four kingdoms are no different. When someone breaks the rules of the kingdoms—from assassination attempts to simple theft—they must be punished.

  ‘In the shadow world of the four kingdoms, that individual is both chief policeman and chief jailer. He is officially known as the Governor of the Royal Prison at Erebus. Over the millennia, the various Governors have used slaves as guards at Erebus, so the holder of the position has become colloquially known as the Slave King.’

  ‘And now he has orders to hunt down and arrest the two of us?’ Jack said.

  ‘Yes. And with the resources at his disposal, he is very well equipped for the task.’

  Hades pressed his lips together tightly.

  ‘Captain, we are entering a perilous new phase in the state of the world. The Omega Event is coming: the ultimate singularity, the instantaneous collapse of the universe as it reaches its expansion point. The end of all things.

  ‘And with the failure of the Games to reveal the Mysteries to Orlando—and appoint him King of Kings—the royal world has been plunged into a very unstable interregnum.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Zoe said.

  ‘The Great Games had one paramount purpose,’ Hades said, ‘to select the “King of Kings”, the emperor of the world, or as it is put in some texts, the Alpha.

  ‘The winning king’s prize for sponsoring the successful champion was twofold: first, to be installed as King of Kings; and, second, to receive the Mysteries, the sacred ultra-ancient knowledge that would guide us safely through the two trials that, when overcome, prevent the coming Omega Event.’

  ‘Which is the collapse of the universe,’ Zoe clarified.

  ‘Yes,’ Hades said.

  ‘Kind of a big deal . . .’ Alby said softly.

  Hades said, ‘What should have happened after the Games was this: after Jack won, his sponsor-king, Orlando, should have stepped inside the black obelisk in the temple atop the Underworld and received the Mysteries.

  ‘Not wanting to see Orlando attain such power, Jack prevented this from happening, so Orlando did not receive the Mysteries and did not become the K
ing of Kings. The title of King of Kings is now moot. To prevent the Omega Event, we must now find the Mysteries some other way.’

  ‘And use them to overcome the two trials,’ Alby said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So what are the two trials?’

  Hades said, ‘The two trials are known as the Trial of the Cities and the Trial of the Mountains.’

  ‘Wait,’ Zoe said. ‘The Mysteries. What exactly are they? Clues? Commands?’

  ‘Information,’ Mae answered. ‘Instructions. Ancient information and instructions. Over the years during my research into the kingdoms, I’ve encountered only a handful of references to the Mysteries, fragments at best. There are, so far as I can tell, five or six Mysteries. They’re a series of directives or instructions that guide one through the two trials and thus prevent the Omega Event.’

  She looked at Hades, who nodded. ‘This is correct.’

  ‘Does anyone know what the Mysteries are?’ Lily asked.

  ‘Not in their entirety, no,’ Hades said. ‘That was to be the privilege of the king whose champion won the Games. Mind you, the Mysteries are ultimately information, and information can be unearthed in other ways.

  ‘Over the centuries, many have tried to find out the nature of the Mysteries, including royal historians, disciples of the Catholic Church and even some noted members of the Invisible College. But after all that, as Mae says, all we have are fragments of the whole, fleeting mentions of the Mysteries by those who talked or wrote about them throughout the course of history.’

  ‘Like who?’ Alby asked.

  ‘Well, like Zeus,’ Hades said. ‘He was the king who sponsored Hercules when he won the Games three thousand years ago. He was also a ruler of such charisma and power that three millennia of tales and legends have turned him into a god—the king of the gods, no less.’

  Hades pulled out his cell phone and swiped to a password-protected photo album.

  He pulled up a photo. It was a shot of a very old sheet of papyrus, encased in a glass frame:

  Hades showed the image to the group. ‘You will no doubt recognise the language.’