Antiquity's Gate: Sanctuary

by RF Hurteau

  “All right back there?” asked Ambrose without turning.

  “I’m afraid it’s a bit more of a bumpy ride than Mr. Wilks is used to,” replied Felix.

  “I dare say,” agreed Wilks, dusting himself off. Tobias handed him his hat and he replaced it on his head, tugging his waistcoat down. “I believe I’ll try standing for a while. Is it much further?” He had asked this question, in varying forms, at least once an hour—for the last nineteen hours—despite frequent threats of violence from Penelope if he didn’t cut it out.

  Penelope sighed loudly, but nodded. “See out there, on our right? Those are the Transantarctic Mountains. We’re over the Sound now, we’ll be coming up on Antiquity Island in just a few minutes. From there, it isn’t far to the Gate.”

  Felix felt himself tense as he thought about passing over the domes again. Would they see Ripley’s body as they passed over? Unlikely, he decided. How hard would it be to find him?

  Tobias paused in his work to kneel down beside Felix, whose face must have displayed the many emotions he was battling inside. “We’ll bring him home,” he said, interpreting Felix’s distress. “I promise.”

  Felix sighed, some of the tension seeping out of him. “Home. Willow had said that, too. But…this was the only home he ever knew. Still, when I think of him, out there, alone…no one knows he’s out there except us. We can’t just leave him. Not again.”

  Tobias nodded solemnly. “We won’t.” He handed Felix a small black box.

  “What’s this?” he asked, suspicious.

  “It’s a radio transmitter,” Tobias explained. “We won’t be able to stay right outside Antiquity’s Gate since we don’t know how long we’ll be waiting. We can’t run the engine indefinitely, so we’re going to land inside Dome Six just like Ambrose did before.”

  “Well, not just like before,” admitted Ambrose, “I intend for this time around to be a softer landing.”

  “We’ll be monitoring transmissions through the Gate the whole time you’re gone. Using this, you can let us know when you’re ready to come back through.”

  Felix nodded.

  “Okay,” said Penelope. “Sanctuary is coming up, dead ahead!”

  Everyone stood, moving toward the cockpit to stare out at the vast, icy landscape below. Pluto’s spotlights cut a swatch through the deep blue twilight sky, illuminating drifts of snow far below them. Ironic, Felix thought, that they had left Sanctuary as the sun rose and were now returning just after it had dipped below the horizon, the beginning of another long, polar night. The domes appeared in view one after another, growing larger by the second as they approached. There was silence in the cabin, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Everything that had happened here, everything Felix had been through, came flooding back so hard and fast that he felt his eyes filling with tears. He tried to wipe them away inconspicuously, but felt Tobias place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

  “My word,” said Thoris in amazement. “It’s a good deal larger than I imagined.”

  Felix cleared his throat, nodding. “Ten thousand people need quite a bit of space,” he said. “Or at least, there were ten thousand people. I’m not really sure, now that the Elves are gone.” He paused, wondering, as he had many times over the last six months, what had become of the several hundred Halfsies and their families. He hoped they were okay.

  “And where is Antiquity’s Gate, exactly?”

  “Directly in the middle of the domes,” answered Tobias, squinting as more of Sanctuary came into focus. “You’ll be able to see it soon. Have you ever seen pictures?”

  The Gate appeared before them at that moment, and the sight made even Tobias stop talking for a moment. Deep violet radiance spilled out onto the surrounding icy landscape, reflecting off the snow and creating a vibrant dome of light against the darkness of twilight. Tobias found his voice after a moment. “It’s really quite impressive, is it not? A unique crystalline structure of unknown origin…wait a minute…” he said, sounding puzzled. “What are those…?”

  “What are what?” asked Felix, trying to see what Tobias was looking at.

  “All right. Here it comes, Felix. Gather your things, I’d like to make this quick so we can get the engine upgrades finished.”

  “Oh—you don’t think—they couldn’t have, could they? Ambrose!” shouted Tobias. “Pull up! Turn back!”

  “What are you on about?” snapped Ambrose, though he had already instinctively begun to pull up on his steering column.

  It was too late. Felix felt as much as heard a series of rapid impacts against the side of the ship like the clanging of a hammer on steel. One of them clipped Pluto’s tail, sending them careening into a spin.

  “They’re firing on us! Hang on to something!” Ambrose shouted, trying to regain control of the ship. Tobias and Thoris were slammed against the bulkhead, where inertia held them in place. Felix managed to grab hold of the overhead netting, shoving his body between the two front seats. He watched through the windshield as the domes swirled around them like a massive wheel, flashes of light cascading across his vision as the turrets continued to fire. A loud hissing filled the ship, and he turned his head to see a jet of snow twirling wildly in their wake. For one brief moment, he remembered his dream. Then he was ripped violently back to reality.

  “Penelope, give me thrusters!” roared Ambrose above the noise, and she struggled to lean forward, flipping a switch before she was forced back into her seat. Ambrose jerked on the steering column. Felix felt his body leave the floor as his head whipped forward. The ship leveled out, feet from the ground, and a plume of snow rose up around them like a veil, obscuring their view. The world stopped spinning around him. The Gate loomed into view, a gaping mouth, waiting to swallow them. Too late to pull up, Ambrose aimed Pluto’s nose straight. The engine shuddered. Blood pounded in Felix’s ears. The hissing drowned out the rest of the world.

  They slipped through the Gate as neatly as thread through a needle. There was a blinding light, and then—darkness.

  four

  Easily Confused

  It seemed like every time Denton turned around, he was staring straight down the ugly black maw of another meeting. He had always been a man of action, but as the new head of Security, it seemed that the majority of his time was devoted to words. Meetings about the new hierarchy. Meetings about the state of Security. Meetings about how to feed the people. Always more talking.

  He comforted himself knowing that, at least tonight, they would be talking about something in which Denton had played a major role. At the same time, he was conflicted knowing that they would expect him to speak about it. Denton had never had much interest in listening to flowery speeches. He had even less interest in delivering one.

  He opened the door to the Council chambers and saw, with dismay, that he was amongst the first to arrive. He hadn’t intended on being early. Perhaps it was the constant stress of his new position. That must be it. All the stress that came with the sudden burden of responsibility was changing him. Changing him into someone who showed up to things on time. He walked around the far side of the table, seating himself as far away from the other occupants as possible, in order to avoid any chance of having to engage in small talk. There were a dozen Council members, and a dozen more attendants who were heads of various strategic departments. Denton was no math whiz, but even he knew that this made for twenty-three potentially uncomfortable conversations.

  His efforts failed. “Hey, Denton,” said Ben Parker. He sat beside his sister, who did not offer a greeting, but instead stared at Denton with a look that suggested she had just smelled something distasteful.

  “Ben,” he acknowledged with a nod.

  “How are things over in Security?” he asked, clearly unable to take a hint. But thankfully, he waved a dismissive hand and said, “Never mind, I’m sure we’re going to be hearing all about it shortly!”

  There was blissful silence as they waited for the rest of the department heads to file in. I
t had come as a shock to Denton when he’d been elected as the new head of Security. Edwin had once pointed out to him that he wasn’t very well liked, and Denton had not been offended in the least. He had never cared what other people thought of him, or the way he did things. But the anti-Elven feelings that were so strong after the riots must have given his popularity a boost. Everyone knew he was no friend to the Elves. They’d been looking for a strong leader, who wasn’t afraid to do what was necessary to protect them. They’d turned to him, and he’d accepted. Looking back, knowing what the job would entail, he might have declined. But it was what it was, and there was no turning back now.

  “Thank you all for coming tonight,” said Edwin from the head of the table. Denton scoffed. As if we had a choice. “There’s something important I would like to discuss with all of you,” At this, Denton saw Boggs sit up straighter. “But first, let’s get all of our other business out of the way. Yes, Sylvia?”

  The small woman had raised a hesitant hand in the air, and her face flushed slightly as all eyes turned her way. “I was hoping we could reopen our discussion on the Halfsies,” she began, her voice quiet.

  The room filled with murmurs. The fate of the Halfsies had become a recurrent subject at these meetings as the new Council members were fiercely divided on the subject.

  “That’s not up for debate,” Denton declared loudly. “It’s been settled.”

  Meagan chimed in. “I agree with Sylvia, we really ought to at least talk about it.”

  The murmuring grew louder as others weighed in with their own opinions on the matter. After the riots had been brought under control, security had systematically rounded up all of the Halfsies. Many had been caught in the fighting, but others had had the good sense to hunker down and wait things out. Although nearly half of the Council had strongly protested, the will of the people of New Sanctuary had won out, and the Halfsies had been forced into servitude, subjected to the rigors and dangers of the Geothermal Plant. Many thought of this as justice for all that the Elves had done to Humans during Sanctuary’s history. Yet Sylvia, Ben, and a handful of strong supporters had continued their very vocal protest of this mistreatment. The conversation that followed was predictable, almost rehearsed now, as Denton listened to the same old arguments, rehashed for the hundredth time.

  “It isn’t right. They aren’t slaves; they aren’t prisoners. They didn’t do anything wrong!” Sylvia said, her brother nodding fervently beside her.

  “Being part Elf is enough,” Edwin said tiredly. “The people have spoken. They don’t trust the Halfsies, not after all that’s happened. This is the only justice we have to offer them.”

  “It’s not justice, and you know it!” Ben said, angry now. “It’s wrong.”

  “I don’t disagree entirely, Ben,” said Nelson, his tone soothing, “but what are we supposed to do? Without the Geothermal Plant, New Sanctuary can’t survive. Someone’s got to run it.”

  “It should be on a volunteer basis,” Sylvia replied, “or some kind of mandatory rotation. It doesn’t have to be as terrible as it is. The conditions down there are awful, with a little work—”

  “We are putting everything we have into the defense of this city. If New Sanctuary is lost, the point is moot,” Edwin pointed out. “As far as your suggestions, we will discuss this further and determine the best way to improve working and living conditions for the Halfsies once our own safety has been assured.”

  Denton laughed, and everyone looked at him. “Sorry,” he said, grinning, “just wondering when exactly we’ll have assured safety, since we live right next to a Gate that leads to a whole world full of Elves who can’t wait to see us all destroyed.”

  The others continued to speak, but Denton stopped listening. He’d heard it all before. He tried to pay attention, but his mind wasn’t built for politics. He found himself nodding off slightly as the others droned on. Suddenly, he noticed the room had gone quiet. He reached out, picking at a small scratch on the smooth surface of the table, pretending that he’d been looking at it the whole time. Then, trying to look casual, he glanced up.

  They were all staring at him. Denton felt his body tense. His natural reaction to almost any situation was to get angry. He glared at Edwin, who had an impatient, condescending expression plastered on his smug face. “I was saying,” he said, apparently repeating himself, “that a much more pressing matter is the status of our defenses. Would you please elaborate on that, Mr. Murphy?”

  I’d like to elaborate my fist on your face, thought Denton, childishly. Outwardly, he gritted his teeth and began to speak.

  “Yeah. So, uh, we’ve been working on a way to defend Sanctuary, in case the Elves try to come back.” Sweet Evenmire, he hated this. He looked around at their expectant faces. What were they all waiting for? Wasn’t this self-explanatory? “We’ve got a bunch of nerds in one of the labs who were able to design turrets from old specs we found in the library using recycled materials. They use…” He scrunched up his face in concentration, trying to remember the terminology they’d been spouting at him just this morning. “Uh…explosive projectiles? Anyway, we’ve made some of those, too. Not a lot, but we’re working on it. We’ve mounted the turrets on every dome. They’re triggered remotely from a new control panel in Core Operations.”

  There. He’d said what he’d come to say. They all waited for him to continue, but he sat back in his seat, drumming his fingers on the table. “Anything comes through that Gate, we’ll shoot it dead,” he finished with a shrug.

  Edwin frowned, but he quickly recovered, his face breaking into what seemed to be a very painful smile. “Thank you, Denton.” He looked around the table. “What do you need in order to increase production of these projectiles?”

  “More nerds,” Denton said, “and more materials. There’s three parts. Don’t ask me the names—I forget. But two they can create in the lab, and one can be found under the Geothermal Plant in the tunnels.”

  Edwin nodded. “We’ll get more workers down there to collect it, then, and we’ll get your team whatever they need. I want this to be a top priority.” He looked around the table. “Does anyone have any questions for Denton at this time?”

  Nelson raised a hesitant hand. “Um, I do,” he said. Denton glared at him.

  “What about the outside of the domes? Facing away from the Gate, I mean.”

  “What do you mean?” Denton said, still glaring. “Ain’t no Elves coming from outside the domes. They live on the other side of the Gate, see?” This last he said slowly, as if Nelson might have some trouble understanding.

  “Well, obviously, yes, but…” Nelson looked to Edwin, who nodded. “We may have other problems. Besides the Elves, I mean.”

  Denton sat up straighter. This was news to him. He glanced around, and judging from the looks of others around the table, it was a surprise to everyone else, too.

  Meagan O’Dell, the head of Communications, cleared her throat. “You all might be aware that we recently discovered the Therans’ radio center, which allowed them to communicate with their Theran counterparts.”

  Denton saw some of the others nodding. He, on the other hand, had no idea what was going on.

  “We’ve recently rerouted all of that equipment into the Observatory, for ease of use.”

  “Congratulations,” Denton said, dryly, and a few people laughed softly. Meagan shot him a look, which took just long enough for Nelson, ever the overachiever, to interject into her monologue.

  “We have become aware since the Therans’ retreat that we are not, as was previously believed, the only survivors of the Sequencing. We have reason to believe that we’re picking up communications from other Humans,” Nelson said in one quick breath.

  There was murmuring from around the table.

  “Everyone, calm down,” Edwin said, “Now, what Nelson has just told you, it must not leave this room. Do you understand? We need to know more about what we’re dealing with before this becomes public knowledge.”

&n
bsp; The room erupted into a cacophony of sound as ideas began flying around the room from every direction, some more wild than others.

  “Are they planning to attack us?”

  “Maybe they could help with our food supplies!”

  “Why haven’t they made contact?”

  “This is precisely the reason why we’re not going to be sharing this information until we know more,” Edwin commented. “Imagine this on a much larger scale. So yes, Denton. We will need to look at increasing our defenses, so that we can fire in whichever direction is necessary.”

  “That’s not going to be easy,” Denton said. “It took us the better part of six months to get what we have now up and running. I’m not sure how quickly we can do more.”

  “Whatever resources your team needs are at your disposal. Just make it happen,” Edwin said firmly.

  “How sure are we that these are Humans you’re hearing?” Ben asked Meagan, and Denton found himself unwillingly interested in the answer.

  “Very sure,” Edwin confirmed before she could speak.

  Cynthia Prewett, who oversaw the Agricultural dome, looked somewhat hopeful. “You know we’re not doing well as far as food goes, Edwin,” she said. “If there are other Humans out there, we need to make contact. Maybe they can help us out. Anything would help at this point.”