During the first millennium, strange men with red hair had floated westward on rafts from the coast of Peru. They discovered the island called Tahitutaumotu; a place scarcely named in the legendry of Polynesian tribes scattered across the South Pacific. A place shrouded in mystery; a place that had been impossible to find, and yet Baxter Copeland had found it Somehow, when no one, not even Baxter himself had known where-and perhaps more importantly when-to look, against all odds, he had found it It was in the labyrinthine lava tubes under the mountain that the red haired men from Peru had discovered something remarkable; something that had potentially changed the course of history many times-something that always made its way into the outside world and then always found its way back again. It was here that they had built their temple; for the artifact they discovered glowed in the darkness of the caverns with an unearthly light. The same relic that Baxter now carried in a backpack lined with a special foil to keep the light in, and which he knew-he could not be sure how-weighed exactly eighty-five pounds, though it was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. Now, if only he could remember: "Is this the beginning or the end?"
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