An Atlantean Triumvirate

by C. Craig R. McNeil

  The section of ruins the party wished to explore had been uncovered many years ago. No one had investigated them because they were isolated from the main areas of ancient habitation and looked boring, an uninteresting jumble of blocks and columns much like any other. McHarrie wanted to look further into the ruins as there was speculation that a large air pocket existed underneath the rubble, meaning that Atlantean relics may have survived the millennia undisturbed and untouched by the corrosive sea. Britain's chief prize to be recovered from Atlantis was that of the power crystals. From giants several times the height and width of a man, to tiny thin razor edged slivers, round, oval and oblong, in as many colours as the rainbow, the crystals powered Britain's thrust to the forefront and far beyond of the constant arms race between the world's empires. One of the most amazing inventions by British engineers to come out of the study of Atlantean relics and their crystal power sources was that of a shield generator which kept out nothing except pure water. One of these few shield generators had been installed at the base of the ruins and, once activated, shone like a beacon, a rusty bubble of light that somehow held out the vast pressure of the ocean water, leaving the ruins open to the ravages of the air for the first time since the cataclysm that had taken the buildings deep down to the ocean’s bosom.

  The dreadnaught shuddered, plates of iron and steel creaking under the strain of being so close to the enormous power source of the shield generator. Wave upon wave of invisible energy radiated out far beyond the limits of the shield itself, pushing metal away like an anti magnet. Only the sheer size and power of the Renown allowed it to approach close enough to send out an airlock tube to penetrate the red shield. It was down this tube that the exploration party descended, McHarrie and Doyle bickering again, this time about how much explosive was necessary to blow a tunnel through the bottom of a mountain which was yet another ongoing argument between them.

  It took the party a moment to adjust to their new environment lit by the dull red light of the shield dome. The hard rocky slope ahead of them was slick with a dampness that even the shield had not pushed out as it grew to encompass the ruins. Drips of salt contaminated water along with constant flakes of salt filtered through the shield above, and dripped and floated down to the underwater mountainside. A short climb ahead over a thin white layer of sea salt, lay the crumbled building, which could now seen as a larger version of the Greek Parthenon in Athens.

  Jane was more interested in the HM Dreadnaught Renown which could be seen outside the bubble of air. The submarine was even more impressive seen from the outside, a massive iron tube lined with portholes, its huge underwater cannons protruding from the upper deck. At the stern flew an anodised red metal replica of the Royal Navy ensign, brightly lit by four lights. The low rumble of its engines could be felt rising through the ground as the submarine moved to stand off waiting for the green flare that signalled the explorers required a pick up.

  It was difficult to see too much outside the shield but Jane could make out the underwater mountain slope as it descended gradually to the ocean depths, while above the slope increased more and more sharply until it probably reached a peak.

  Jane turned at an exclamation from Miller Hayre. All three men were crowded under a large outcrop of rock which they were all tapping at with small metal hammers.

  “By jove!” Miller Hayre announced excitedly. “I think there’s a sort of doorway under here. D’you think it’ll lead up to the ruins?”

  “Most likely,” replied McHarrie. “No use to us if we can’t get it open though.”

  “Ahem,” Doyle coughed lightly. “Allow me kind sirs!”

  Everyone ran back down the slope, hurriedly looking for some place to hide while Doyle did his best to bring the mountain down on them.

  A dull, low boom was felt more than heard and was quickly followed by a cloud of dust rolling down the mountainside. Rising coughing from their cover, Miller Hayre, McHarrie and Jane saw a dusty Doyle surveying his handiwork.

  “When you three have stopped playing hide and seek perhaps you’d like to do some real archaeology now?” Doyle called down.

  Doyle had opened up an entrance that led into an upwardly sloping tunnel, more than tall enough to take a man and wide enough for four men to stand abreast without touching the sides. Despite its age, the tunnel was well lit by glowing orange orbs set into the walls. Some flickered on and off but Jane had no doubt that this was probably due to Doyle dynamiting the entrance more than any failure in their manufacture.

  Without another word, the party stepped into the tunnel and, led by McHarrie, they walked slowly upwards, drinking in the age old atmosphere of mystery. The tunnel walls were bare and totally smooth, the tunnel having apparently been cut out of the rock by a machine. No living being could possibly have created such a tunnel by hand.

  The tunnel was long and perfectly straight. To Jane’s eyes it was boring too. No wall carvings, no paintings, nothing. The only thing of interest was the fact that despite the incredible age of the structure, it was in almost perfect condition. The tunnel ended abruptly, opening up into a small square room. Dust lay on the floor, inches thick, and swirled upwards in choking clouds when disturbed by the explorers' heavy boots. The room was bare but well lit by light globes. Moving quickly onwards they walked through an open doorway into another short corridor leading to another plain room. And so it went on.

  McHarrie kept careful notes in a flip notebook whilst Doyle dropped small square orange cubes of painted wood every few yards to keep a track of their path. The complex was large, certainly one of the largest they’d been in yet. However, it was also one of the least interesting they’d explored. The only things present in all the rooms they visited was dust and light globes. There was no decoration whatsoever, no carvings, paintings, writing, nothing. This in itself was unusual as Miller Hayre pointed out, as all other Atlantean buildings discovered were covered with faded frescos, text and pictograms. The building was also in amazing condition. There hadn’t been an air bubble at all. The entire complex was airtight and had been since its submersion in the cold Atlantic.

  Jane was beginning to despair of finding anything of note and she saw that even Miller Hayre was growing fidgety at the lack of objects to analyse. Doyle was complaining at the lack of things to blow up and tossing a stick of dynamite from hand to hand much to McHarrie’s annoyance and concern. McHarrie was in front, as usual, leading the way, barely looking into any of the rooms they passed now due to their similarity. Suddenly he stopped short, Doyle almost bumping into him.

  Cutting short Doyle’s complaint, he stepped through a doorway on his left, exclaiming, “Now, this is more like it!”

  Upon entering the large square room, the party almost walked into a large black marble block about five feet high and ten wide, in the middle of which glowed a single blue star shaped button. In the centre of the room was a large circular platform of polished black material. The platform was raised slightly out of the surrounding grey stone floor and was around ten feet in diameter. Everything could easily be seen, as the room was bathed in a bright yellow light that seemed to come from the walls.

  Apart from the marble block and the circular platform the room was as bare as the rest they’d seen, much to McHarrie’s irritation. Everyone’s attention focussed on the star shaped glow.

  “Well,” said Doyle, not bothering to look around, “who’s going to press it?”

  Tentatively, Miller Hayre pushed the blue glowing glass button. It clicked and instantly the ambient light in the room dimmed. From the four upper corners of the room, thin beams of blue and white appeared and shone onto the circular platform in the room’s centre. A blue line appeared in mid air floating above the black circle, before stretching out into a white rectangle that hung a few feet about the surface and reached up almost to the ceiling. A series of semi opaque pictures formed on the rectangle and text and pictographs flowed back and forth at disturbing speed. As the scientists watched in astonishment, the recta
ngle melted away and a giant eight foot tall figure formed, surrounded by a faint nimbus of blue. The figure was possibly female but it was difficult to tell. It was slim, its body’s contours covered from ankle to neck by a bodysuit upon which flashed and flickered pictures and ancient script. The figure’s long delicate face was bare and hairless, very human like but with an ethereal beauty accentuated by shining black almond shaped eyes.

  The figure bowed and for the first time in hundreds of centuries, Atlantean was spoken on Earth.

  While the four scientists stared in wonder at the astonishing creation before them, the black marble panel which had before only shown the single blue button, had now come alive with flashes of rainbow colour and a myriad of coloured shapes and pictographs now shone brightly in the gloom.

  “What did it say?” whispered Jane to no one in particular.

  “I’ve absolutely no idea,” breathed Miller Hayre quietly. “Aren’t you meant to be the world class linguist?”

  The professor took a step forward to the glowing figure. “From the way she, or it, bowed I think it’s waiting for instructions.”

  Doyle strode up to the figure, carefully testing the black raised surface with his booted toe before stepping onto it and walking round the blue giant studying it from every angle.

  “D’you think it’s real?” he said as he lifted his hand and prepared to prod the giant.

  “Don’t touch it!” Miller Hayre, McHarrie and Jane all yelled at once.

  Doyle prodded the figure’s calf and the tip of his finger disappeared before reappearing as he pulled it out.

  “Nope. Didn’t think so. Looks like this thing here is generated by light. Great stuff don’t you think?”

  Doyle didn’t wait for any response and started waving his hands in the air and hunting for clues as to how the technology worked.

  Miller Hayre was examining the script and pictograms on the console.

  “Jane, dear, can you make out anything of this writing? Some of it looks remarkably like Ancient Sumerian, certainly different from Atlantean script I've previously seen.”

  Jane peered closely at the text. The vast majority of the text was obviously intended to label the bewildering array of glowing buttons.

  “Jane, any idea what language it was speaking in?” called out McHarrie as he looked up from pencilling down details in a notebook.

  “Seeing as this is old Atlantean technology then perhaps it was Atlantean,” Jane replied with a touch of sarcasm. McHarrie could be downright stupid sometimes.

  McHarrie threw a hurt glare at Jane which she studiously ignored while Doyle laughed heartily.

  “Lords and lady of the now future. How may the Nucleus help?” The voice radiated around the room seeming to come from everywhere at once.

  The figure bowed again and despite her absolute astonishment Jane thought she saw a hint of a smile on its face.

  “By jove! It speaks English! How on Earth….?” Miller Hayre spluttered with astonishment.

  “We, the Nucleus, have observed you since you entered the Institute of Knowledge. We analysed your speech and word patterns and we can now communicate. Is this acceptable?” the Nucleus spoke with a perfect Oxford accent, very similar to Miller Hayre’s except perhaps more feminine.

  “Oh, I say!” Miller Hayre was bubbling over with excitement running his hands repeatedly through his thinning hair.

  “What are you? What can you tell us? What happened to Atlantis? Where….?” The questions poured out from Miller Hayre like a never ending torrent.

  The Nucleus coughed politely, in such a human way all four explorers stared. Doyle and McHarrie now stood next to Jane and the Professor listening intently to the Nucleus. Even Doyle for once seemed to be in awe.

  “Ahem. If the revered lord would like us to answer the first query then we will.”

  “Erm….. Yes. Sorry. Please do,” Miller Hayre stuttered.

  “We are the Nucleus. We are a repository of knowledge for the civilisation called Atlantis. We were created a great number of your months ago, long before Atlantis died and its survivors were scattered around this planet.”

  To Jane’s ears it seemed as if the voice held a hint of sadness.

  “Our creators were great and wise people and before they fell they realised that one day, if we survived, we would possibly be found by their descendants who could use our knowledge to help themselves scale the great heights of Atlantis and progress beyond without falling into the same traps that they did.”

  The Nucleus fell silent. Jane felt the silence was foreboding as if old ghosts were watching the proceedings with interest and not necessarily good intentions.

  “What happened to Atlantis?” she asked, her voice sounding small compared to the omnipotent tones of the Nucleus.

  “My lady,” the Nucleus turned its dark eyes onto her and Jane shivered despite the heat of the room. “The story of Atlantis and its downfall is a long one and we shall not attempt to tell it all to you this day. We believe your friends in the submersible may worry if you are too long. We shall tell you a much abridged version and will attempt to provide you with a book copy when you next return.”

  Jane wondered how the Nucleus knew about the Renown considering that it was seemingly tied to this single room. Appearances could be very deceiving she knew and it would not do to judge the limits of this wonderful new artefact based on no evidence! Still, she wondered how it could see beyond the walls of its prison.

  The giant blue figure of the Nucleus raised its legs and sat cross legged in mid air, hovering three feet above the circle platform.

  “Come, my lords and lady. It is customary to sit cross legged when a story is to be told.”

  Doyle grinned. “Just like being at school again”, he said as he walked jauntily round the black marble control panel and sat down in front of the waiting Nucleus. McHarrie, Miller Hayre and Jane followed close behind and sat down next to Doyle.

  “The story of Atlantis is a long and glorious one, one that started many, many months ago…”

  “In the beginning, six hundred thousand months ago, humankind had already survived the rise and fall of many empires. The continents had begun to settle into their current positions leaving the many separate tribes of man spread over the globe disparate and disorganised. The continent of Atlantis stood by itself in isolation safe from the dark magicks that scoured the planet of its previous civilisations and it was here that existed the most vibrant and technologically advanced civilisation that this planet has seen. The people of this continent were fair-haired and blue eyed, with long heads and oval eyes, very different from the peoples of the surrounding continents who were mainly dark haired, round headed, brown eyed creatures. The Atlanteans were a tall race, often reaching seven or eight feet in height and they were mighty warriors, proud and fearless in the hunt, running down giant mastodon and sabre toothed tigers with ease.

  “There were seven tribes on Atlantis, each proud, stubborn and warlike. Many wars were there between them before they were united by the great warrior statesman, Gia Khan. Under his long leadership, Atlantis prospered and the seven tribal towns became seven great shining cities rising high and bright above the surrounding plains. In the middle of the continent, Gia Khan decreed a city should be built, a capital where the heads of the seven nations would meet and decide how their country should be run. This capital was also called Atlantis.

  “As the months came and went, Gia Khan passed into the Elysium Fields beyond the starfields of Orion and Atlantis greatly mourned his passing but his legacy continued to bless and inspire Atlanteans. Atlantis thrived and went from strength to strength. Great libraries were built and scientific institutions flourished and the power of Atlantis grew at an exponential rate. One of the greatest achievements was the discovery of how to create crystals capable of storing and releasing enormous amounts of energy. This discovery led to the Great Age of Creation when the crystals were used to power everything from ships to flying carriages and eve
n vessels that ventured into the great unknowns of space. The population of Atlantis expanded beyond the boundaries of the island continent into the dark unenlightened world beyond. Cities were founded in the great mountains to the north east of the Indus Valley, on the great plains of the Americas and the Steppes and in the jungles of Africa and South America. Trade between Atlantis and the colonies made Atlantis and her children wealthy beyond dreams.

  “The enormous power afforded by the crystals allowed sophisticated mechanisms to be created to make the Atlantean way of life easier. Society became stagnant and slothful as the many months passed and, over the generations, degenerated in to a sick morass of wanton idleness. As society disintegrated, old arguments between the original seven tribes were dragged up and old hatreds sparked and flared. The tribes went to war with each other and great battles were fought, not just across Atlantis, but across the entire planet. Atlantis threw off its lethargy and plunged itself into a self destructive conflict that raged back and forth between the seven tribes. Alliances were formed and betrayed, cities bombarded, towns raped and pillaged, mass murder committed and never was there a victor. In the end, one of the tribes, the Tuatha de Danaan, on the verge of annihilation, sued for peace. The six other tribes ignored the request and joined forces to destroy their weakened opponent. Realising they would never win, the Tuatha de Danaan sent their women and children away from Atlantis and activated a doomsday machine they hoped they would never have to use. This doomsday device melted significant portions of the polar ice caps and the resulting floods poured over the globe causing destruction that was so widespread it passed forever into legend, imprinted on the collective consciousness of man.”

  At this, the elderly professor gasped, in turn echoed by Jane and McHarrie. Doyle merely listened. “The Flood legends! So they're true!” Miller Hayre said. “The Bible mentions Noah's flood; the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Egyptian Books of the Dead, the Maori tales – they all have flood legends! My God! So many legends from around the world of a great flood that covered the land. They must all descend from this one moment.”