“Have you seen anything else in the depths of these pits?” Albadi tried to seem indifferent, but his eyes were alert as he watched them.

“I thought I…” Andy grimaced. “Maybe. I don’t know what I saw.”

Matt saw how keenly Major Abrams watched the young geologist. There was something hidden there. Albadi also seemed to notice the major’s focus.

“Major Abrams, perhaps you have seen something too?”

Abrams looked away and slowly shook his head. “We registered some anomalies, but we’re still analyzing the data. Nothing conclusive enough to share at this point.”

“Anomalies? Yes, anomalies is a term for them. But perhaps abominations is a better one.” Albadi’s fingers were still clasped over his stomach. “I believe what we are dealing with is something beyond ancient, beyond mankind, beyond the beasts, and perhaps even beyond the primordial ooze we all crawled from.” He looked at Matt. “But perhaps we have sensed it. Maybe the gifted have sensed it more keenly than the rest. And other creatures with even greater senses than our own – surely they have.”

“Like the birds,” Tania said. “And now you’re saying the roaches do too.”

Albadi shrugged. “The roach is probably one of the most ancient creatures living on our world. They were here before even the great saurians, and have been on this planet for three hundred and fifty millions years longer than humankind. The world was young then, raw, and they have seen things that we could not imagine. They have seen what has come before, and perhaps they can see what is to come again. I think maybe they share an infinity with, um…” He sat back, seeming to search for the right words.

“With what?” Veins stood out on Tania’s throat. “What do you know about what’s going on? You predicted the earth-drops, their time, and even where they were going to occur. We’re in a race, doctor, and we don’t have time to talk about roach philosophy. Tell us what you know, please.”

“I know but a little.” Albadi stared for a second or two and then sighed heavily as he got to his feet. He searched a shelf, pulled free a roll of tattered paper, and laid it on the table, unrolling it flat. It was the crisscrossed map of North America.

“The ley lines,” Matt said.

Albadi turned to Matt, toasting him with his small ornate cup. “You have an extensive knowledge, Professor.” He left the map on the table, looking at each of them. “I have seen one of the sinkholes. I have read scraps of a manuscript that was beyond fantastical.” He stared hard at them. “I believe we have all seen things that defy explanation. Little pieces of the same puzzle. We see a hint here and there – a glimpse, a scrap, or a fragment.” He held up his hands. “It seems we all know a little, but none of us knows all.” He put his cup down carefully. “Have any of you heard of the Andhgajanyāyah?”