CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

En route to Berlin

August 14

9:58 p.m.

Roald looked out the window of the night train rumbling east across Germany.

From the files Carlo and his staff had been able to construct from Galina’s computers, it seemed that one possible location of the Eternity Machine was Station Two in the heart of Berlin. They would be there by daybreak. There was no guarantee, of course, but it was worth a shot.

“It’s odd,” Roald said to Terence and Carlo, who shared the compartment, “chasing someone and being chased at the same time. You look in both directions at once.”

It had been so long—too long—since Roald had seen his family. The grind from Gran Sasso on the trail of the astrolabe had taken the trio from city to city across Europe. They were aided by Terence’s network of colleagues, and his friends in the British intelligence community, all the while the mass kidnapping at Gran Sasso was unfolding strangely in the media, sending Galina on the run. But events were moving slowly.

And now the train slowed.

Frankfurt, Roald thought.

They were still deep in Germany.

“Odd, yes,” Terence said from the bench across from him. “But then, most of this is odd, isn’t it?”

“No . . . just . . . no,” Carlo groaned, hunching over a beefed-up laptop.

“Carlo, what is it?” Terence asked.

“Not sure, but I don’t know enough physics. It’s a scribble by Ebner. Roald, can you have a look? I don’t think it’s good.” Carlo slid the computer off his lap and handed it over.

Roald scanned the file. It was a sequence of equations, many of which he was familiar with, but he had never seen them connected in this particular way. Then he saw the name Kardashev.

“Oh.”

He called up another screen and began entering numbers, trying to build a mathematical proof against Ebner’s jottings. He failed. He tried again. And failed again.

“Share with us?” Terence said.

“It’s these numbers in one of the encrypted files. Ebner apparently worked out a singular equation. I’m trying to rework the terms to prove him wrong, but he’s not wrong. His calculations, I have to say, are a little bit of genius, really.” Roald looked up. “Galina needs only six relics to fly the astrolabe.”

“Six?” said Terence. “You’re not serious!”

Carlo pressed his hands to his forehead. “Could it be true?”

Roald nodded. “All twelve are ideal, of course, but the energy produced by at least six will generate the aurora and catapult the machine into something called a Kardashev Type Omega-Minus mode . . . it’s technical, but Ebner worked it out. It’s not twelve relics. We have to stop Galina from finding six!”

“She may have six already,” said Terence. “We know she has Serpens, Scorpio, Crux, and Draco. This makes it all the more important that we find the astrolabe.”

Terence’s cell phone tinged like a harp.

He slid his phone from a side pocket. “An incoming text. From Wade. He sent it the day before yesterday from Montevideo. Sorry, the decryption program in my phone is slowing up messages. Being low-tech is a bit of a time waster. Roald, here.”

Roald took the phone, read the text, then cursed under his breath. “They lost Aquila to Galina. She has five relics!”

“Altogether, ten of the twelve have surfaced,” Carlo said. “Galina has Serpens, Scorpio, Crux, Draco, and now Aquila. We have Vela, Triangulum, Corvus, Lyra, and Sagitta. Only two remain hidden. With just weeks to go.”

“The kids retrieved this.” Roald turned the phone to show the image of the painting found in Uruguay. “Any thoughts?”

Carlo studied the image closely, enlarging different sections of it. Then his eyes took on a faraway look. “It’s a lost Raphael. Or, I guess, it’s not lost anymore. The wrap over the man’s shoulder is wolf. It might refer to the constellation Lupus, which could be the eleventh relic.” He sat back on the bench. “And the castle outside the window behind the sitter is Königsberg.”

“Königsberg?” said Terence. “Albrecht’s castle?”

Carlo nodded slowly. “I’ve been there. The painting’s terrain isn’t right, but that was probably done to throw off the Order. Königsberg is now in Kaliningrad, a Russian exclave between Poland and Lithuania on the Baltic. Poland lost the territory to Russia during the war. You get there from Warsaw. The relic search continues in Königsberg.”

“But why there?” asked Terence. “The Guardians wouldn’t have hidden a relic in the Order’s stronghold. Are we saying Albrecht stole it? Does Galina not know that?”

Carlo shrugged. “We have to plan on her knowing soon. It’s the last relic she needs.”

Terence turned and looked out the window, but at night saw only the reflection of the three of them sitting there. “Listen, Roald, I have an idea. Why don’t we text an encrypted reply to your family, telling them to meet Julian in Paris. He can tell them in person that the castle in the painting is Königsberg, and they can fly to Warsaw from there.”

“All right,” Roald said. “And in the meantime?”

“In the meantime,” Terence said, “they’ll meet you and Carlo in Warsaw. Carlo, you said you know Königsberg. That’ll be handy. Then let’s get a little zigzaggy to throw off the Order. Roald, you’ve been away from your family too long. You join them, while Julian and I meet up to continue the search for the astrolabe. No sense in having the great minds wasted on tracking Galina at this point. What do you say?”

Roald felt his heart thump faster. He’d been putting his family in the back of his mind, knowing they wouldn’t meet for a while, but this was smart. Very smart.

“Are you sure?”

“I am,” said Terence.

“I think it makes perfect sense,” Carlo added. “At the next stop, Roald and I will get off and head to Warsaw, yes?”

Roald breathed in slowly. To see his family again after so many weeks!

“Yes,” he said. “We’ve got to use every resource wisely now. There are so many pieces to bring together, and the clock is ticking faster all the time. Carlo, we go to Warsaw, then to Königsberg.”