The man who had forced her to come here was named Kwame Asante. He was not an archaeologist. He was a griot , a living library of the Mande people of West Africa. He was also, Elara was learning, a heretic.
She dropped the phone. It clattered on the ancient stone, sounding cheap and plastic and loud. ancient future wayne chandler
A low, thrumming bass note began to emanate from the obsidian board. The amber condensation on the walls began to swirl, forming coherent patterns: star maps, but not any Elara recognized. The constellations were wrong. The North Star was not Polaris, but a brilliant blue giant in the tail of Draco. This was a sky 17,000 years old. The man who had forced her to come
Together, they stepped into the ancient future. The stone closed behind them, silent as a tomb, humming as a womb. And the Great Pyramid, for the first time in twelve thousand years, began to sing. He was also, Elara was learning, a heretic