Win

by Vera Nazarian

  We find ourselves looking at something that is undeniably a symbol etched into the pyramid stone, a meaningful symbol from some kind of ancient codex of Atlantis.

  Chapter 63

  “Interesting,” Chihar says, stepping closer. “I think, my Imperial Lady Gwen, you found something.”

  “What the hell is that?” Brie moves in.

  “Definitely looks like a symbol of some kind,” Kokayi says.

  “Not a typical hieroglyph. I’m not familiar with it,” Chihar says.

  “Neither am I,” Lolu says, peering at the glowing spiral while craning her neck this way and that. “But I doubt it’s only decoration.”

  “Symbol or decoration, it’s real heat!” Brie reaches out with her palms, fingers splayed, to warm her extremities. “Whatever it is, nice job there, Lark!”

  The others approach also, moving in closer for warmth as much as curiosity.

  “Look!” Zaap says, pointing to a different side of the stone. “There’s another one!”

  I come around to the side he’s indicating, and he’s right. Another spiral glows in the center of the adjacent side, with minor differences compared to the first.

  So we examine the stone block from all sides, and there is one orichalcum-based symbol on every visible surface, each one different from the six others. Most of them are either spiraling or circular in structure, with waveform variations.

  “Okay,” Brie says. “These symbols are obviously important, I hope someone is taking notes—ahem, you, Lark.”

  “Oh, I’m paying attention!” I say, as I bend over to examine the underside symbol on the bottom surface of the block.

  In that moment a loud swell of noise comes from outside the pyramid. . . . It’s the roar of the Games audience, as the spectators are becoming aware of what we’ve done.

  And then we hear announcers picking up with commentary, followed by a familiar chanting, “Gwen Lark! Gwen Lark!”

  At the same time two light orbs sail into our area, probably directed here by the Games controllers to better illuminate the action in our Safe Base.

  “. . . And so, Grail Games worshippers, the night suddenly heats up, as we have the first team to uncover one of the Symbols necessary to unlock the Challenge of Stage Two!” the announcer speaks with excitement. “And it’s none other than Team Lark! And what a clever way to do it, driven to it by the cold, wet night and desperation, no doubt—”

  Great, just great, I think.

  “The other stones probably have heat-activated symbols too,” Lolu says, as we try to ignore the noise and attention upon us. “Should we heat them up also? I’m familiar with the command sequence, so I can try—”

  “Oh, yes!” I say quickly, glancing at her, and then the others. “If any of you want to try the other stones, please do it!”

  Zaap shakes his head. “Don’t know that voice command,” he says sullenly.

  “I don’t either,” Kokayi says.

  “I’m not very good at voice commands, not my specialty,” Tuar says. “But I can try.”

  The others simply nod, and start moving around the perimeter of the Safe Base, selecting stones to work with.

  But Brie claps her hands loudly, calling for attention. “Whoa! Before everyone goes crazy with this fancy heat manipulation,” she says, “How’s it going to affect the pyramid’s hourly motion? Think about it—if you all key each stone around us to yourself, will it screw things up? Maybe when it’s time to rearrange themselves, the stones will then just crush us randomly, and ignore the Safe Base sensors, and the safety perimeter? I mean, you’re messing with the Games program. . . .”

  Everyone stops.

  “Good point,” I say. “I honestly don’t know. Maybe the pyramid’s programming will just take over every hour? After all, I only keyed the stone, and didn’t set an Aural Block on it. My assumption is, when the pyramid program kicks in, it will simply override my voice-key setting, and it will revert to being controlled by the program.”

  “Yeah, well, this is you just guessing, and talking out of your butthole, Lark,” Brie says. “Until it happens, you don’t really know.”

  “You’re right,” I say. “So then, we’ll just wait until the hour and see what happens with this one stone—okay with you?”

  “Wise decision,” Chihar says, returning to sit on the Safe Base slab.

  Kateb nods. “We wait.”

  And so we sit back down and wait for the next hour, while the Games audience is alive with noise, echoing along the cliffs loudly enough to rival the gusts of ocean wind. . . . At least we now have the heated stone to warm us against the constant chill. The block floats a few feet away from us, with radiant white-hot orichalcum symbols glowing on all sides. The stone itself is thoroughly heated so that its surfaces are scalding to the touch.

  “Are we still the only ones to discover these symbols?” Chihar says, motioning in the direction of the surveillance smart board to whoever’s attending it.

  Avaneh immediately starts scrolling through feeds. A few moments later, she remarks, “Hard to tell. Some of the other teams have seen us, through their own Safe Base surveillance. Ah, I see Team Irtiu already have their own stones heated up. Their Vocalist, Fawzi Boto, is working on a third one right now. Yes, looks like all three of their stones are covered with orichalcum symbols, just like ours.”

  “They move fast . . .” Kokayi says.

  “Of course,” Chihar says. “Not surprising. They heard the Games audience and announcers, then watched us, and now they immediately move to copy.”

  “And if their stones crush them on the hour, then at least we’ll know if this interferes with the Games program or not,” Brie mutters, tapping the slab floor surface with her knife.

  “Zoom in.” Kateb comes closer to the surveillance screen to stare. “I want to see what kind of symbols they found.”

  Avaneh manipulates the display window to enlarge one of the stones in the feed of Team Irtiu’s Safe Base. She focuses on the symbol on the closest side, and brings it into full view.

  “Imperial Lady Gwen,” Chihar says to me. “We should take note of all their symbols too.”

  “Yes,” I say, glancing at it. “That one looks identical to what we have on our stone.”

  “You sure?” Brie says.

  “Let’s compare ours against theirs,” I say. “Symbol for symbol, we record what we have, and whatever different ones they have.”

  “In the meantime, we can heat up some stones that are far enough from the Safe Base that their disruption in programming won’t affect us here,” Avaneh says, getting up, and glancing at Kateb. “Your turn watching the surveillance, Inventor.”

  When the bells ring to announce twelfth hour, there’s only Kateb, Brie, and myself in the Safe Base, while the others are ranging nearby, working on the various stones and noting down the symbols they find. Chihar, Avaneh, and Lolu sing the advanced voice commands in variously competent voices, while Kokayi, Zaap, and Tuar follow them and carefully examine all sides of the blocks.

  The now-familiar grinding sound and slow movement of pyramid stones begins, and they pause their work. I can hear their voices calling out to each other to be careful, as they skillfully maneuver out of the way of the moving stones.

  As usual, we all stop whatever we’re doing to observe the rearrangement. I set down my micro-pad-and-stylus tiny gadget with which I’m scribbling down and organizing the symbols for our reference. Kateb and Brie look away from the surveillance screen.

  The stones around us move this way and that, lining up unusually with each other, and then continue moving closer, as we stare, mesmerized. . . .

  There’s an unpleasant deep grinding sound coming from directly overhead, as every single upper stone pushes against its neighbor, jamming up tightly so that there are almost no gaps, only slivers, and then not even that much. . . .

  At the same time, the stones directly surrounding the Safe Base on the same horizontal level start moving in closer also,
including the solitary heated stone which, thankfully, has reverted to the program that controls the pyramid. It has stopped glowing, and the symbols on all its sides are fading back into invisibility as it cools down rapidly, while moving along with its neighbors.

  When the movement stops, the stones surround us completely.

  And I mean, completely—there are no gaps between any of the stones, not even for air to circulate—or so it seems at first panicked glance. Furthermore, there’s now an overwhelming silence. The cold wind has stopped flowing over us in its relentless assault against the stones, and for the first time in days the air is very still.

  “What . . . what just happened?” Brie says in a faint, breathy voice, looking up and around us.

  By some crazy, impossible bad luck, we’re now sealed up inside a newly formed stone vault with a cubic volume of about 24 by 8 by 6 feet.

  We’re entombed, with no way out—at least for one very long hour—inside the Great Pyramid of Giza.

  “On the plus side, we have light,” I say to Brie, noticing her strange intense expression. Indeed, between the four corner beacons and the glowing surveillance screen, it’s very bright in here, especially with the stones closed in.

  But Brie has grown very still. Her breath comes shallow, and she appears stunned.

  “Are you okay, Walton?” I say.

  She blinks, moves her head lightly back and forth as if to clear her mind, but the expression of panic doesn’t seem to leave her. Her breathing is now fast and shallow. “There’s no air . . .” she says. “Crap, no air!”

  Kateb turns away slightly, and his keen gaze sweeps our immediate surroundings. “It’s a very unusual stone configuration.”

  “But we should be okay,” I say in a hurry. “This—all of this—it’s only for an hour, after which the pyramid will move again and open this space up.” I glance at Kateb for support.

  The Inventor nods. “I have no doubt the next rearrangement will free us from the enclosure.”

  Brie becomes even more agitated. Fine sweat breaks out on her forehead. “One hour?” she exclaims. “Are you kidding? In this small space, with three of us breathing, we’ll suffocate long before that!”

  I stand up, keeping my head down instinctively, so as not to hit the lowest-hanging rocks on the ceiling, even though there’s at least a few inches of clearance above my head. And I step closer, then crouch before her. “Brie, look at me,” I say, leaning in near her face, and putting my hand on her arm. “Just breathe with me, slowly. . . . Breathe. Like this. . . .”

  And I start taking even breaths, as I look into her eyes. In, out. . . . Breathe in, breathe out.

  For a few seconds, Brie follows my lead, inhaling and exhaling until her fluttering breath slows down to normal. And then she yanks her arm away, and growls in a hard voice, “Cut it out, Lark! I’m not twelve, don’t need your help or your psych crap, okay. . . . I’m fine.”

  I frown slightly, but don’t move away from her, even though her face is averted. “Okay,” I say. “Sorry.”

  “Hey, good news,” Kateb interrupts us. He’s squatting to examine the stones near the floor at the edge of the Safe Base. “There’s a very narrow space between these two blocks here, just a slit, but that means we have air coming in. I can see all the way through.”

  “Oh, thank God!” I exclaim in a strong voice of relief.

  Brie immediately sits back, and takes a deep breath. “Yeah. . . .”

  “Well, now all we have to do is wait an hour,” I say in a cheerful tone, and move back to give Brie some breathing space, literally.

  In that moment we hear voices coming from beyond the stones. They sound distant and muffled, but recognizable as belonging to our teammates.

  “Gwen Lark! Are you alive in there, amrevet?” Kokayi calls out.

  And then we hear Chihar’s voice, and a few knocks against the stone. “Imperial Lady Gwen! Are you unharmed? Call out if you can hear!”

  “Yes!” I reply loudly, sitting up. “We’re all fine! But we’re surrounded by stone!”

  “Fortunately we have a small opening for air,” Kateb calls out, using a knife to strike against the rock on our side.

  “It is well, then!” Tuar’s voice sounds.

  “I’m sure we’ll be freed the next time the pyramid moves,” I call out confidently. “Meanwhile, the rest of you continue looking at the symbols. Let us know if you find anything unusual!”

  “Yes!” Lolu cries out.

  “In that case, you simply wait!” Chihar adds. “We’ll be nearby.”

  And their voices recede as the others return to what they were doing on the other side of the stone vault.

  A few moments go by, as we sit in renewed silence.

  “Hey! Why don’t you try to use your fancy voice commands to move those stones?” Brie says suddenly, with an energized expression.

  I consider. She has a point. “You know, I probably could,” I say thoughtfully. “But these stones are huge, and piled on top of one another, and, to be honest, I’m a little uncomfortable. What if I dislodge one and the rest collapse or—or somehow implode from their dislodged weight and motion programming, and crush us? We’re not desperate for air, so I think I’ll just wait and let the pyramid do its thing. The less I mess with its programming, the better.”

  “I agree,” Kateb says, with his back to us, as he watches the surveillance screen. “In fact, I suspect that this strange stone configuration is the pyramid control program punishing us for disturbing its programming.”

  “Huh?” Brie says. “Punishing? How? It’s not a sentient being, it’s idiot software. What the hell are you talking about, Inventor man?”

  “Of course it’s not sentient,” Kateb, replies. He scrolls to the view of Team Irtiu’s Safe Base and zooms in. “But it must have built in anti-tampering safeguards. Want proof? Look! Thalassa’s crew are completely sealed in with stone just as we are. And they also used the heat commands to manipulate the programming of their local stones—just as we did.”

  I approach to peer at the screen, and he’s right. The view shows Tiamat Irtiu herself in the Safe Base, with three of her teammates, and they are testing the stones around them, which appear to have closed them in the same way as ours. Tiamat’s beautiful sharp features show anger, and she tugs her long blue hair in displeasure as she crouches elegantly before the conglomeration of stones.

  “I see. . . .” I observe the enemy team. “This is not a coincidence then.”

  Kateb turns around to look at me with his intelligent composed face. “A subroutine must have been activated. And the more we manipulate these stones, the more likely it is that some other unexpected things might come about.”

  I nod. “I should tell the others.”

  And so I call out, but our teammates are probably too far away to hear my voice past this thick wall of stone.

  “It’ll have to wait,” Brie says, frowning. “So . . . we all wait.”

  I watch Brie closely. “You’re still okay, Walton?”

  Brie’s eyes are of an odd color that’s somewhat hard to pin down. At first glance they appear dark, but they’re really somewhere between blue and grey, probably more on the dark grey side, like a thunderous, overcast sky. . . . I haven’t had the opportunity or the reason to look at her this closely before—not until now. In a strange way, the color of her eyes matches the angry purple highlights that are streaking her hair.

  And now, she’s looking at me with those storm eyes. “What is it to you, Lark? Why are you asking me this crap question again? I told you I was fine!”

  I take a deep breath, because Brie Walton manages to irritate me deeply even now as I find sympathy for her. “You don’t like closed spaces,” I say.

  She snorts. “So? Who does?”

  “It’s okay. Some people are claustrophobic. Just want to make sure you are hanging in there—”

  Brie moves in suddenly, so that now she’s in my face, and her forceful intensity is disturbing enough t
hat I move back a little. “I am not. . . . Why don’t you mind your own business, Lark,” she says in a hard whisper. “I’m here to look after your pathetic skinny ass, not the other way around.”

  “You’re a real piece of work,” I whisper back. “I’m just being decent with you. You’re a part of this team and it makes you my responsibility too—”

  Brie starts laughing in cold anger, and her storm-grey eyes are narrowed and focused on me like razor blades. And then just as suddenly she turns away from me and addresses Kateb.

  “So, Inventor man,” she says in a brash manner. “What’s your story anyway? Why don’t you say something before the Imperial Lady here tries my patience completely and I’ll do something which I might regret?”

  Kateb—who’s been tactfully ignoring our pointed conversation—looks around at her, but maintains his composed expression. “What?”

  “What the hell do you do? What makes you an Inventor?”

  There’s a long pause, as Kateb watches her without blinking. “I invent,” he says simply. And then he turns his back and resumes staring at the surveillance screen.

  But Brie doesn’t let up. “I get that,” she says. “But what’s your deal? I mean, why are you in these damned Games anyway? What do you Atlanteans consider Inventors? Do you create new technology or gadgets? Or what? C’mon, talk to me, tell me a story or something, so I don’t have to listen to her psychobabble. . . .”

  Kateb turns around again to face her, and glances from Brie to me. I give him a meaningful silent look, hoping he can read me. Humor her, my expression tries to convey.

  “Your curiosity—is it in regard to the Inventor Category, or to me?” Kateb says, watching Brie with a subtle expression that could be hiding amusement.

  “Both, neither, whatever,” Brie says, running her fingers through her purple-streaked hair to move it out of her face, as she looks at Kateb sideways. “On Earth, inventors are people who invent new things, technologies, methods, parts, gadgets. They apply for patents and trademarks and other legal things. And then they make money off their inventions, and some even get filthy rich.”