Beyond Hades: The Prometheus Wars Read Online Free Page B
Author: Luke Romyn
mind the indiscretion; if he did, he covered his irritation well. "Doctor Harrison, your role here is simple. We need you to close the door your brother opened."
Talbot froze, his entire body totally shocked beyond reaction.
"I-I can't do that!" Talbot spluttered. "My brother was an expert in Greek mythology. I'm an archaeologist."
"Mr. Harrison, your field of expertise is irrelevant. We believe there was a part of your brother's brain which was somehow attuned to this culture, and that's why he was able to decipher their dialect. We hope, as his identical twin, you will be able to do likewise."
"That's a big hope," muttered Talbot.
"Well, it's actually more than a hope, Doctor Harrison. Our scientists did a scan of your brother's brain before his accident and deduced a part of his mind was in fact overdeveloped. The lobe which understands writing and language was far more advanced than any other human on record and firing in areas which are not normally so developed - a type of epilepsy without seizures of any kind. Tell me, can you speak any other languages?"
Talbot paused, unwilling to admit a truth which might condemn him to the same fate as his brother. He hadn't missed the pause in the general's speech when it came to Thomas's death. Something bad had happened to his brother, something the general was unwilling to disclose.
"Don't bother trying to lie to me, Doctor Harrison," commanded the general, seemingly reading his thoughts. "We already know you can speak at least five languages other than English, and you apparently taught yourself every single one. That is not normal."
"But it doesn't mean I can understand the language you're talking about," protested Talbot, feeling his grasp on the situation slipping.
General Sharpe pointed at the dossier Talbot had been reading only moments before. "That's written in a language nobody's been able to decipher for thousands of years. Only you and your brother have been able to interpret it out of scores of linguists who've tried. We believe it may be the lost language of the Keftiuan - the language of Atlantis. If not, then it's something found nowhere else on the planet. Our most powerful computers can't even begin to understand what a single word says, but you were just studying it like it was a Playboy magazine, albeit with less interesting pictures."
Talbot glanced at the papers on the desk, noticing for the first time the strange characters which he'd understood so easily. He hadn't even registered the oddness of the lettering, as intrigued as he'd been with finding out what Thomas had written. Even the fact he had recognized Thomas's script in such a language had escaped his notice.
Damn.
Klaxon alarms blasted throughout the base, and the door slammed open. Colonel Wilson burst in, panic corroding his previously stoic demeanor.
"Sir!" he gushed. "Subject number 4247 has breached its captivity."
Talbot glanced at the general, noticing how his complexion paled at the colonel's words, but his command swiftly overtook his fear. "Order troops into position for defending the base. All scientific staff and crew are to retreat to Base Bravo via the thermo-tube. I don't think we'll be able to contain that bastard again."
Colonel Wilson promptly moved to the door, motioning for Talbot to follow. Stepping through the exit he called out to Captain Benedict, who sprinted over to them and saluted.
"Captain," began General Sharpe, "from now on your one and only concern is this man's safety. Get him to Professor Weinstein at Base Bravo and from there to point Zulu."
Captain Benedict saluted once more and primed the chamber of his M-16.
Oh shit.
They all exited together, moving through corridors until, without farewell, the general and Colonel Wilson moved off down one tunnel, while Captain Benedict motioned for Talbot to follow him down another.
"Have you ever fired a weapon, Doctor Harrison?" asked the captain as they dashed along the empty passageway.
Talbot shrugged
Talbot froze, his entire body totally shocked beyond reaction.
"I-I can't do that!" Talbot spluttered. "My brother was an expert in Greek mythology. I'm an archaeologist."
"Mr. Harrison, your field of expertise is irrelevant. We believe there was a part of your brother's brain which was somehow attuned to this culture, and that's why he was able to decipher their dialect. We hope, as his identical twin, you will be able to do likewise."
"That's a big hope," muttered Talbot.
"Well, it's actually more than a hope, Doctor Harrison. Our scientists did a scan of your brother's brain before his accident and deduced a part of his mind was in fact overdeveloped. The lobe which understands writing and language was far more advanced than any other human on record and firing in areas which are not normally so developed - a type of epilepsy without seizures of any kind. Tell me, can you speak any other languages?"
Talbot paused, unwilling to admit a truth which might condemn him to the same fate as his brother. He hadn't missed the pause in the general's speech when it came to Thomas's death. Something bad had happened to his brother, something the general was unwilling to disclose.
"Don't bother trying to lie to me, Doctor Harrison," commanded the general, seemingly reading his thoughts. "We already know you can speak at least five languages other than English, and you apparently taught yourself every single one. That is not normal."
"But it doesn't mean I can understand the language you're talking about," protested Talbot, feeling his grasp on the situation slipping.
General Sharpe pointed at the dossier Talbot had been reading only moments before. "That's written in a language nobody's been able to decipher for thousands of years. Only you and your brother have been able to interpret it out of scores of linguists who've tried. We believe it may be the lost language of the Keftiuan - the language of Atlantis. If not, then it's something found nowhere else on the planet. Our most powerful computers can't even begin to understand what a single word says, but you were just studying it like it was a Playboy magazine, albeit with less interesting pictures."
Talbot glanced at the papers on the desk, noticing for the first time the strange characters which he'd understood so easily. He hadn't even registered the oddness of the lettering, as intrigued as he'd been with finding out what Thomas had written. Even the fact he had recognized Thomas's script in such a language had escaped his notice.
Damn.
Klaxon alarms blasted throughout the base, and the door slammed open. Colonel Wilson burst in, panic corroding his previously stoic demeanor.
"Sir!" he gushed. "Subject number 4247 has breached its captivity."
Talbot glanced at the general, noticing how his complexion paled at the colonel's words, but his command swiftly overtook his fear. "Order troops into position for defending the base. All scientific staff and crew are to retreat to Base Bravo via the thermo-tube. I don't think we'll be able to contain that bastard again."
Colonel Wilson promptly moved to the door, motioning for Talbot to follow. Stepping through the exit he called out to Captain Benedict, who sprinted over to them and saluted.
"Captain," began General Sharpe, "from now on your one and only concern is this man's safety. Get him to Professor Weinstein at Base Bravo and from there to point Zulu."
Captain Benedict saluted once more and primed the chamber of his M-16.
Oh shit.
They all exited together, moving through corridors until, without farewell, the general and Colonel Wilson moved off down one tunnel, while Captain Benedict motioned for Talbot to follow him down another.
"Have you ever fired a weapon, Doctor Harrison?" asked the captain as they dashed along the empty passageway.
Talbot shrugged
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