Chapter 2
The simulation ran using the most up-to-date information on planetary positions. Circe leaned forward and watched as the screen plotted the trajectory for the asteroid that emerged from the Milky Way. Once more, the software showed it avoiding Earth.
Good, right?
Not for Circe, who’d been trying to prove an ancient mechanism of tracking astral events was just as accurate as their modern instruments. Again and again, the two systems showed much different results.
Circe huffed and leaned back in her seat.
Andreas, who worked in another department but seemed to always find a reason to be around, paused by her desk. “Ready to give up?”
“Just about,” she grumbled.
“I don’t know why you’re wasting time trying to prove we’re in dire danger based on what a relic indicated.
A device manufactured more than a thousand years ago isn’t capable of being as precise as our monitoring systems.” Everyone in the National Observatory of Athens had heard of her presentation, where she’d put forth her—according to them, wild—theory that the asteroid named 8675309 Odyssey would shift its course due to a subtle shift in planetary positions and collide with Earth.
There’d been laughter at her claim because, according to the other astronomers, even if the Milky Way had changed the force it exerted on their solar system due to the recently changed Ophiuchus constellation, it would take a long, long time before any noticeable movement in planets occurred.
Circe pursed her lips. “Our computers are only as smart as the data we feed them.”
“Data that is refreshed daily,” he reminded.
“Collected by computers with pre-set programming, meaning it’s not infallible.”
A comment that led to him snorting. “More accurate than this anchor thingy that you’re obsessed with. I don’t know why you’d believe it over what our telescopes and satellites can detect.”
“It’s called the Antikythera mechanism, and despite the differences between it and our data, I disagree. Whoever built it”—the original creator was unknown—“had an understanding of the cosmos that defies explanation. They were well ahead of their time.”
“A time long past,” Andreas scoffed. “I’d suggest you stick to modern science. Or don’t. It’s your job on the line, not mine.”
Not just her job, though. Circe bit her lip rather than blurt out her dire prediction that if they were wrong about the data, then asteroid 8675309 would cause a catastrophic event rivalling that of the one that killed the dinosaurs.
Andreas had already mocked her enough for her theory.
“I’m supposed to seek out threats to Earth from our solar system. ”
“What threat? Every simulation we’ve run shows the asteroid is set to pass us by. The sun’s not showing signs of emitting any solar flares of note. What’s left? Little green men?”
“Don’t you mean gray?” she riposted, annoyed at Andreas, mostly because it fed into her doubt.
Was she wasting her time? She’d been studying the Antikythera mechanism for months now.
Even had a replica of one at home that did what it claimed.
Predicted eclipses and planetary positions.
Until recently, it had been spot-on. That all changed, though, when Ophiuchus began shining brighter.
Since then, its results had been diverging from their collected data.
The sudden difference bothered. It didn’t help that everyone she’d shown it pointed out the age of the mechanical artifact and the fact the replicas of the device were based on an incomplete model.
The original Antikythera mechanism, the size of a shoe box with intricate gears and dials that showed a precision that should have been impossible for its time, had been found in a sunken ship.
Only a third of the mechanism was salvaged, but those who rebuilt it claimed they’d figured out the missing parts.
Could be they’d not rebuilt it correctly, hence why she got differing results.
Alas, the original plans for the device had never been recovered, so no one could be sure if the replicas were exact.
“Give your history project a rest and join us for some drinks,” Andreas suggested. “There’s going to be a live band playing at the bar down the street.”
“Not tonight. I need to feed my cat.” A lie. She didn’t own a cat, but without a proper excuse, Andreas would keep pressuring.
“And this is why I have no pets or children. I like my freedom.” Andreas laughed as he strode off. A handsome man, but much too arrogant and annoying for her to even contemplate dating. Not to mention, she valued her job more than a fling.
However, he did have a point. She needed a break.
She logged off and grabbed her things, slipping on her green cloak, an item she’d splurged on when she saw it in a shop selling vintage clothing.
It covered her head to toe, the deep cowl of it welcome on rainy and windy days.
She headed off on foot, her apartment being only a seventeen-minute walk—when she could travel the most direct route.
A grimace crossed her face as she noticed the road and sidewalk she used daily had been closed for construction since she’d left her apartment that morning.
The inaccessibility led to her having to veer onto a side street that looked much like her own.
Tightly constructed buildings, of which the main floor of some were given over to businesses, with the upper levels being used for residential dwellings.
As she strolled, a sudden clap of thunder drew her attention to the dark clouds overhead.
She quickened her step, hoping to make it home before the storm unleashed.
Alas, she remained still a good ten-minute walk from her place, seven maybe if she ran, when the droplets began falling.
Not wanting to get soaked by the deluge, she ducked into the nearest shop.
A tiny bell over the door announced her presence.
No one stood behind the counter cluttered with bins and a cash register, but she could hear a male talking to someone out of sight in the back.
To bide time while the rain fell heavily, she began to browse the aisles of the eclectic shop that appeared to only carry Zodiac-themed items. Shelves held various figurines meant to represent each sigil.
Aries, with his curled horns. Pisces, the fish.
Taurus, the bull. Plaques placed in front of different sets indicated the artists who’d created the models.
Beyond those displays, a row full of placards and windchimes, again inscribed either with a specific symbol or all of them in a wheel.
What an interesting store, and how surprising she’d never visited.
The stars that comprised the Zodiac had been one of her first obsessions as a young girl.
Her parents had gifted her a telescope at Christmas, and she spent many a night out on their balcony aiming it at the sky, locating each and every constellation.
It turned out to be an obsession she never grew out of, hence why she ended up getting her degree in astronomy, which led to her job at the observatory.
As she browsed books in the rearmost section, the lights suddenly went out. Bells tinkled, indicating someone opened the door, and the distinct thump indicated it had been shut, but more ominous? The click of someone engaging a lock.
“Hello?” Her voice quavered.
No one replied.
“Is anybody there?”
The pressing darkness made it impossible to see, and she bumped into a bookcase before thinking to pull out her phone and turn on its flashlight.
With it shining ahead of her, she made her way quickly to the front of the store, but whoever had shut down the shop had disappeared.
Worse, the door wouldn’t budge when yanked.
Because it was locked.
Duh.
No need to panic. She’d just turn the knob for the deadbolt and—
The metal latch snapped, leaving her blinking in disbelief. Now how was she supposed to get out?
A brief glance at the large window showed the quickest escape. An idea quickly vetoed. Bad enough if she’d exited and left the shop’s door unlocked; she wasn’t about to vandalize. Although the owner, or whoever worked, really should have called out or done a sweep before running off.
There had to be another exit. Didn’t deliveries usually happen at the back of businesses? Her question was answered when she located the thick door on the rear wall promising escape but for the padlock holding the clasp shut.
Now what? She still held her phone and sighed as she began to dial one one two for emergency services.
Before she could finish tapping, the screen on her phone suddenly glitched, displaying colorful lines before going dark.
No amount of pressing the power button would turn it back on. Of all the ill luck.
Maybe the store had a landline. A search of the front counter and the storage room didn’t turn one up. Guess she wouldn’t be calling for help, meaning she was stuck overnight. Embarrassing and uncomfortable.
In search of a place to sleep, she circled the shop a few times as if the second and third lap would produce a bed or a couch.
A snack would have been nice, as well. Opening a narrow door in the rear storage area revealed stairs going down that were so rickety she chose to not even try.
She doubted she’d find anything of use in the basement.
Not to mention, subterranean levels creeped her out.
She tried standing in the window, hoping to catch a pedestrian’s attention, someone who could call for help, but the heavy downpour kept the sidewalks empty.
According to the sign in the door, the hours of operation for Zodiac Emporium were nine to six Monday to Friday.
It was just after seven now. Fourteen hours to wait, maybe less if employees or the owner tended to arrive before opening.
Fourteen hours. Once more, she considered smashing the window to escape. Doing so would lead to the pounding deluge ruining the shop. Paying to fix the window? Doable. The cost to repair damage from the rain and replace any product damaged? Definitely not possible, given her meager savings.
Stupid phone chose a fine time to stop working.
Sigh.
Circe tried to sleep, the warped wooden floor not comfortable, her cloak a meager blanket and her satchel a terrible pillow.
It didn’t help her stomach growled with hunger.
To add to her irritation, a clock ticked loudly as if mocking how much time she had left to wait.
After what seemed like an eternity, she rose to check how long until the shop opened.
The annoying timepiece indicated two a.m. Seven more hours. She might go mad before then.
She found herself returning to the rear entrance with its padlock.
A crowbar, or any kind of metal rod for that matter, might pry it open.
She returned to the front of the shop, but nothing appeared sturdy enough to break it, nor did she find any tools of note in the storage area.
Could be the basement had something if she dared to venture below.
A light switch by the narrow door illuminated the steep stairs, but it took her a moment before she dared creep down them, their ominous creaking making her worry they’d collapse.
She made it without mishap and looked around the space crowded with shelving units and boxes.
No crowbar or hammer in sight. She strayed deeper into the basement, despite the fact that no light shone in the farther corners.
Squinting her gritty eyes to penetrate the gloom, she discovered abandoned signs indicating sales, shelves full of broken goods, and finally, a door.
She gaped at the sight of the old wooden barrier.
Where did it lead? No way of knowing since it was locked with an electronic keypad.
Fancy compared to the main door of the business.
The room beyond most likely held expensive items, or…
could it be an entrance to some of Athens’ hidden tunnels?
Very possible, given the ancient catacombs extended a fair distance under the city.
If only it didn’t require a code to unlock.
A code that might be written down somewhere.
Back up the sketchy stairs she went, this time looking for anything written down that held a set of numbers. Nothing beside the register or in any of the drawers. As she slammed them shut in frustration, a pen holder fell over, spilling its contents.
Despite her annoyance, she crouched to pick up the many pens, which was when she saw the digits etched in the underside of the counter.
One eight two three.
She repeated those numbers as she raced back down the steps. Please let them be the code.
Please.
Beep.
She stared in disbelief as the door unlocked.
A yank on the handle opened it. The faint light from the single bulb at her back didn’t show much past the threshold, but she took a step forward anyhow, feeling for a light switch.
To her surprise, her fingers fumbled across one.
The room illuminated, and she blinked then blinked again at the empty chamber.
Actually, not entirely empty. A strange arch stood in the middle, carved of stone and etched in symbols.
It appeared old, a historical monument, locked away instead of being studied.
Being an astronomer didn’t mean she didn’t have an appreciation and admiration for the past. She trailed her fingers on the rock, the tips of them tingling with warmth, almost as if an electrical current ran through the structure.
As she stepped through it to check out the other side, she gasped, expelling all the air in her lungs as extreme cold suddenly hit.
The frigid blast lasted only a moment but proved intense and disorientating enough to cause her to fall to her knees.
The hood of her cloak flopped over her head and she remained crouched, catching her breath.
How odd.
Even odder? The floor that she’d have sworn was roughhewn stone only a moment ago now appeared to be polished and smooth. Light flickered at the periphery of her vision, and she heard crackling that reminded her of a wood-burning fire.
Still on her haunches, she lifted her head to see a hearth, a massive one that she’d have sworn didn’t exist a moment ago. Neither did the bookcases flanking it. As a matter of fact, she’d never seen this room before.
Where was she? And how had she gotten here?
Before she could properly assess her situation, a deep voice boomed, “So you’re the reason I couldn’t finish my shower.”