Area 51: The Grail-5 by Robert Doherty Page A
Authors: Robert Doherty
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, adventure, Espionage, Political, High Tech, Space ships, Area 51 (Nev.), Extraterrestrial beings, Grail
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derivative of the ancient Welsh name—it meant 'from the hill.' He asked me mine. I told him as well as where I was from. I was not yet considered a renegade—it was that night that would make me an enemy of the Watchers.
90
"Have any of you ever been to Glastonbury?" Mualama asked.
He was greeted with a unanimous negative. "It's a very impressive place. We were over five hundred feet above the land on a mound of Earth that poked unnaturally toward the sky. How such an abrupt hill came into existence in the midst of a vast plain was a mystery that the locals referred to in terms of legend. I had learned to listen to such legends very closely.
"There were legends that in the old days Druids lived on the Tor and sang the eternal song. Constantly rotating people twenty-four hours a day, every day of the year, they kept the song alive, which supposedly kept the Tor alive. I asked Brynn about the Tor.
"He told me 'In the old days the Tor was surrounded by water. The land around us is actually below sea level and this was an island. It was called Avalon.'
" 'That is a place of myth,' I argued. 'Not real.' " 'Do you feel the Earth beneath you? Is that not real?' Brynn didn't wait for an answer from me. 'This was Avalon. Many feet, belonging to people much more famous than you, have stood in this place and felt the ground under them. Arthur was here on his deathbed. Arthur was brought here after his last fight, the Battle of Camlann.
Merlin came here many times.'
"Brynn told me more as we stood there," Mualama said. "He told me that before Arthur and Merlin there were others who had been on Avalon. He listed names I had heard of only in legend: Bron, the Fisher-King, who he said ruled from atop the Tor long before Arthur. And before Bron, Joseph of Arimathea came there from the Holy Land. He even told me there were some who believe the Christ-child came with Joseph during one of his early trips to trade tin."
"Ah!" Yakov could not control his reaction.
91
Mualama looked at the Russian. "I am only telling you what I heard and saw."
"Go on," Yakov said. "It is just that every time I think I have heard so much I cannot be shocked, I hear something more."
"I know how you feel," Mualama said. "Brynn led the way and we slid between broken stone into the ruined abbey, to the remains of the high tower. We stood in the center, the night sky visible directly overhead. Brynn held a hand up, muttering some words that I could ^not hear. Then he knelt, placing his ring on the stone floor. A large block, six feet long by three wide, dropped down two feet, then slid sideways, disappearing, revealing stairs etched out of the Tor itself, descending into the depths.
"I felt a sense of dread looking into the hole, as if a woolen blanket had been draped over my soul. For the first time in many years, I wondered if I really wanted to know more of the truth, if ignorance might indeed be bliss.
What little I did know already weighed heavy on my heart.
"Brynn did not wait on me. He headed down and quickly faded into darkness.
My boots echoed on the stone steps. The air was dank and chilly. I could tell from the walls that as we descended we were moving back through time. No one knew exactly when the current Tower had been built, but most agreed it was sometime in the fourth century.
"The stones that lined the stairs were perfectly cut. These stones gave way to the solid rock at the heart of the Tor. The walls were smooth, the tunnel sliced out of hard rock as easily as I could cut butter at the dinner table.
Looking down, I could see that the steps were worn very slightly in the center, from generations of Brynn's walking up and down them, I imagined.
Still
92
we went down, the path ahead dimly lit from Brynn's and my lights, darkness beyond.
"Brynn had come to a halt on a landing. The stairs did another ninety-degree turn and continued down, but he was facing the stone wall. He placed his ring on it, and another doorway appeared.
90
"Have any of you ever been to Glastonbury?" Mualama asked.
He was greeted with a unanimous negative. "It's a very impressive place. We were over five hundred feet above the land on a mound of Earth that poked unnaturally toward the sky. How such an abrupt hill came into existence in the midst of a vast plain was a mystery that the locals referred to in terms of legend. I had learned to listen to such legends very closely.
"There were legends that in the old days Druids lived on the Tor and sang the eternal song. Constantly rotating people twenty-four hours a day, every day of the year, they kept the song alive, which supposedly kept the Tor alive. I asked Brynn about the Tor.
"He told me 'In the old days the Tor was surrounded by water. The land around us is actually below sea level and this was an island. It was called Avalon.'
" 'That is a place of myth,' I argued. 'Not real.' " 'Do you feel the Earth beneath you? Is that not real?' Brynn didn't wait for an answer from me. 'This was Avalon. Many feet, belonging to people much more famous than you, have stood in this place and felt the ground under them. Arthur was here on his deathbed. Arthur was brought here after his last fight, the Battle of Camlann.
Merlin came here many times.'
"Brynn told me more as we stood there," Mualama said. "He told me that before Arthur and Merlin there were others who had been on Avalon. He listed names I had heard of only in legend: Bron, the Fisher-King, who he said ruled from atop the Tor long before Arthur. And before Bron, Joseph of Arimathea came there from the Holy Land. He even told me there were some who believe the Christ-child came with Joseph during one of his early trips to trade tin."
"Ah!" Yakov could not control his reaction.
91
Mualama looked at the Russian. "I am only telling you what I heard and saw."
"Go on," Yakov said. "It is just that every time I think I have heard so much I cannot be shocked, I hear something more."
"I know how you feel," Mualama said. "Brynn led the way and we slid between broken stone into the ruined abbey, to the remains of the high tower. We stood in the center, the night sky visible directly overhead. Brynn held a hand up, muttering some words that I could ^not hear. Then he knelt, placing his ring on the stone floor. A large block, six feet long by three wide, dropped down two feet, then slid sideways, disappearing, revealing stairs etched out of the Tor itself, descending into the depths.
"I felt a sense of dread looking into the hole, as if a woolen blanket had been draped over my soul. For the first time in many years, I wondered if I really wanted to know more of the truth, if ignorance might indeed be bliss.
What little I did know already weighed heavy on my heart.
"Brynn did not wait on me. He headed down and quickly faded into darkness.
My boots echoed on the stone steps. The air was dank and chilly. I could tell from the walls that as we descended we were moving back through time. No one knew exactly when the current Tower had been built, but most agreed it was sometime in the fourth century.
"The stones that lined the stairs were perfectly cut. These stones gave way to the solid rock at the heart of the Tor. The walls were smooth, the tunnel sliced out of hard rock as easily as I could cut butter at the dinner table.
Looking down, I could see that the steps were worn very slightly in the center, from generations of Brynn's walking up and down them, I imagined.
Still
92
we went down, the path ahead dimly lit from Brynn's and my lights, darkness beyond.
"Brynn had come to a halt on a landing. The stairs did another ninety-degree turn and continued down, but he was facing the stone wall. He placed his ring on it, and another doorway appeared.
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