The Founders

by Richard Turner

  Maclean chugged down his water and poured himself another cup. “Does anyone know where we are, and what has happened to us?”

  “The first part of your question is easy to answer,” said Grant. “We’re inside a submarine. As to our hosts, I haven’t a clue. After you had all been knocked out, I met the captain of the ship. He’s young and has a slight Nordic accent. Finnish, I think. What I saw of the crew before blacking out was that they’re a real mix of people. But all of them spoke English. Jeremy, however, has a pretty convincing theory about this sub.”

  “Let’s hear it, Professor,” said Maclean.

  “When I came to, I took a look around our room and found writing in English and Swedish on some of the electrical panels,” said Hayes. “Do you recall about eighteen months ago, when a Swedish Gotland-class attack submarine was reported missing off the coast of South Africa?”

  “Yeah, I do remember reading something about that.”

  “The vessel was on its way to join the Royal Malaysian Navy when it vanished without a trace.”

  “Aren’t these subs reported to be the quietest in the world?”

  “Very much so. In fact, the U.S. Navy requested that the Swedes attach one of their subs to them for a one-year period to see just how effective this type of submarine can be. During its time with the Americans, the submarine was able to infiltrate several carrier battle groups and successfully take pictures of a couple of aircraft carriers without being noticed. In real life, those vessels would have been sunk. To say the least, the U.S. Navy had egg on its face and rushed to change how they go about protecting their carriers.”

  “So, we’re sitting inside that missing Swedish sub?”

  “There can be no other conclusion.”

  “Okay, I guess I’ll buy that. But what would someone who can control robotic creatures and silent flying orbs that can knock you out want with a submarine?”

  “Beats me,” said Grant. “Our host wasn’t overly talkative. He did, however, say two things that may help us understand what is going on. First, he said that I was being taken somewhere to see Susan. The next thing he said was that it was a two-day journey to wherever it is we are heading.”

  “Do you believe him?” asked Maclean.

  “I have no reason to doubt him. He has the power to kill all of us but didn’t. I think he’s under orders to bring us alive to wherever Susan is being held.”

  “The problem is that there are a substantial number of places we could reach traveling at maximum speed,” said Hayes. “Until we dock, we won’t know where we are.”

  “Do you think these people could be working with Roth?” asked Maclean.

  “No,” said Grant.

  “Why not?”

  “The orb took out everyone but me. If they are in cahoots with Roth, why did they stun their allies? No, I’m positive that we’re dealing with a different and far more technologically advanced faction than Roth’s.”

  “Great. More fanatics.”

  “Fanatics tied to aliens with a global agenda,” added Elena.

  “We have no evidence of that,” said Hayes. “There are multi-national companies with enough capital and expertise to create everything we have encountered to date.”

  Elena shook her head. “Jeremy, sometimes you can be quite pigheaded. You’re just not willing to admit that I’m right.”

  “We’ll know soon enough if we’re in over our heads…or really in over our heads,” said Grant.

  “Have you seen or heard from the Rangers?” asked Maclean.

  “No. We’ve been locked in this room the whole time. I suspect they, along with everyone else, are spread throughout the ship to prevent us from trying to take it over.”

  “What about food?”

  “They gave us some sandwiches at noon, but you were sleeping so I ate yours.” Grant checked his watch. “I suspect they’ll be back in a couple of hours with our supper meal.”

  “Good, because I’m starving,” said Maclean, rubbing his stomach.

  “The thing that irritates me the most is the fact that they took away all of our phones and cameras,” said Elena. “Unless we get them back, we won’t have a visual record of the carvings and hieroglyphs we found on the island.”

  “I sympathize, but for now survival is the order of the day,” said Grant.

  The door to the room opened. A man in blue coveralls pointed a Steyr machine pistol at Grant. “You’re to come with me,” said the sailor with a strong Brazilian accent.

  “Where are we going?” asked Grant.

  “The captain wants to speak with you.”

  Grant stood. “Very well, lead on.”

  The man waved the machine pistol down the corridor. “Walk.”

  Grant looked back at his friends. “See you in a few minutes.”

  The guard marched Grant down the narrow corridor until they came to the Captain’s cabin. The sailor knocked on the door.

  “Yes?” said a voice from inside.

  “Sir, I have the prisoner to see you,” replied the guard.

  The door swung open. “Come in, Mister Grant,” said Niskala.

  Grant walked into the room. The guard followed him and closed the door behind him.

  “Can I offer you some coffee?” asked Niskala, holding up a silver carafe in his hand.

  “Yes, that would be most kind of you,” replied Grant politely, knowing that keeping things on an even keel with his captor would be in his best interest.

  Niskala motioned to a small table. “Please, take a seat.”

  Grant nodded and pulled out a metal chair to sit on.

  “I’m sure you have a million questions for me,” said Niskala as he poured two cups of coffee.

  “I most certainly do.”

  “Please, ask me anything.”

  “All right, then. Where are we going, and who are you working for?”

  “Magnificent. I like a person who gets right to the point. Mindless chitchat just bores me to tears. Mister Grant, we are on our way to Antarctica. As for who I work for, that’s a bit more complicated to answer. They call themselves The Founders, and people like my crew and I have been loyally serving them for a millennia.”

  Grant’s head was spinning. “Why Antarctica? Surely there’s nothing down there but ice and rock.”

  Niskala smiled. “I beg to differ. I think you’ll be amazed when you see what we have been able to set up down there far from the prying eyes of civilization.”

  “Are these Founders responsible for Susan Dove’s abduction?”

  “Yes. But we don’t like to use the term abduction.”

  Grant raised an eyebrow. “So, what do you term taking a scared, young girl away from her grandmother’s home?”

  “A reunion.”

  “With whom?”

  “With her kind, naturally.”

  Grant sat back. He was beginning to wish Elena was with him. “I don’t understand. What do you mean by her kind?”

  “She is with people The Founders created long before there were any civilizations on Earth. I know it all seems a bit hard to understand, but once we dock and you have had the chance to look around, it will become quite clear to you what this is all about.”

  “What about my friends? Are they free to look around with me?”

  “Under guard, yes.”

  “What about the other people you took from the island? What is going to happen to them?”

  “That decision is out of my hands. I’m just a humble servant of The Founders.”

  Grant decided that he had heard enough about The Founders for now. He wanted to learn all he could about his host. He took a sip of his coffee. “This is quite nice. Colombian?”

  “Yes. You have good taste in coffee.”

  “When you’re in the Army, you tend to drink a lot of coffee to stay awake. You soon learn which are the best kinds to drink. If you don’t mind me asking, your accent, is it Finnish?”

  “You also have a good ear. You are correct, Mister
Grant, I was born and raised in Finland.”

  “How did you end up working for The Founders?”

  “I was nineteen years old when the Soviet Union attacked my country. I rushed to volunteer and served as a scout behind enemy lines for most of the war. There, I saw many unspeakable horrors perpetrated on my fellow Finns by the Bolsheviks. Whole families gunned down just so the Russians could steal their homes to live in during the harsh, long winter of 1939.”

  “I beg your pardon. Did you say 1939?”

  Niskala nodded.

  “That’s impossible. That would make you—”

  “Ninety-seven years old. Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

  “It sure is,” replied Grant, studying the man’s youthful, unlined face. “Please don’t be offended if I don’t believe you.”

  “I’m not, but you’ll soon learn the truth, and you’ll see that I’m not lying to you, Captain.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Please, let me enlighten you further. I was disgusted when my nation surrendered to the Soviets, so I fled to Germany to continue my fight against the Bolsheviks. My Father was a Finn, but my mother was German, so I had no problem enlisting in their armed forces. Because of my education, I was soon made an officer and served on a variety of U-Boats in the Baltic Sea. It didn’t take me long to advance in rank, and by 1943, I was commanding my own boat. In the spring of 1944, my submarine was brought into the docks at Peenemunde for some long-overdue maintenance. It was there that I met a man who would change my life forever. His name was Doctor Frederick Vogel.”

  Niskala paused to take a drink.

  “Herr Vogel had been working on top secret research for the Germans. Or, at least, that’s what he wanted them to believe. In reality, he was a disciple of The Founders. Because of my blood type, I was approached by Doctor Vogel.”

  “Let me guess. You’re A-negative?” said Grant.

  “You’re quite perceptive for a simple soldier.”

  “Trust me, hanging around with Ms. Leon helps.”

  “Vogel opened my eyes to a larger world than the one we have all been led to believe existed. As the war turned against the Nazis, I started to recruit men I knew I could trust to help Herr Vogel carry on with his work. By 1945, I had a crew of loyal followers, who would have done anything I commanded them to do.”

  “I take it you and Doctor Vogel fled onboard your submarine before the Soviets overran Eastern Germany?”

  “Correct. We rendezvoused with a supply ship off the Canary Islands, where we also picked up a group of brave young women, who were to become the first of a new generation of hosts.”

  “Hosts for what?”

  “For our future.”

  Grant scrunched up his face. “If this is some harebrained plot to bring back the Third Reich, you have to know it will never work.”

  Niskala chuckled. “Captain, you couldn’t be further from the truth.”

  “What is the truth, then?”

  “This whole enterprise is about fulfilling our destiny as laid out by The Founders.”

  Grant felt they were beginning to go in circles. “Which is?”

  “To serve The Founders.”

  Grant raised a hand. “Okay, this is getting us nowhere. I take it you’re telling me all of this because you don’t expect my friends and me ever to leave Antarctica, do you?”

  “You will either willingly help us, or you will be forced into servitude. Either way, Captain Grant, you will end up serving The Founders.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Niskala looked at the guard. “Crewman Silva, escort our guest back to his room. We’re done talking.”

  Grant stood. “You’re mad.”

  “No, Mister Grant, I have allowed my eyes to be opened. You will either do the same or suffer the consequences.”

  “Come,” said Silva, taking Grant by the arm and pushing him out into the hallway. The guard closed the door behind them.

  “So how did you come into Captain Niskala’s employ?” Grant asked Silva.

  “He saved my life, and for that, I am forever in his debt.”

  “How?”

  “My fishing boat capsized off the coast of Brazil in a storm. I was the only survivor. He resced me from a certain death and showed me a whole new world.”

  “You know he could be insane.”

  Anger flashed in Silva’s eyes. “Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, get in your room.”

  Grant was manhandled through the open door and shoved inside.

  “Someone doesn’t look too happy with you,” remarked Maclean.

  “No, he wasn’t. Be careful what you say about the sub’s captain. By the looks of things, the crew is rabidly devoted to him.”

  “Did you learn anything useful from your discussion?” asked Elena.

  “Yeah, lots.”

  “Such as?”

  “The captain of this boat is ninety-seven years old. He has A-negative blood, and we’re on our way to Antarctica, where we will get to see Susan and meet some people known as The Founders.”

  “The Founders,” said Hayes. “I’ve never heard of them.”

  “Elena, does the name ring a bell with you?” asked Grant.

  She shook her head. “Sorry, no.”

  “What the hell is there in Antarctica?” said Maclean.

  “According to our captor, there is a base there.”

  “So, the stories were true.”

  “What stories?”

  “You know, after the war when the American Navy under Admiral Byrd went to Antarctica to locate and destroy a secret Nazi base.”

  “If you’re referring to Operation Highjump,” said Hayes, “It had nothing to do with any alleged German bases in Antarctica.”

  “Yeah, that’s it. I read they encountered UFOs and fought a battle against them.”

  “I’ve got to give you some better books to read,” lamented Hayes. “Highjump was nothing more than an American power projection exercise to prove they could operate in frigid conditions. Any losses sustained during the mission were purely by accident. There is absolutely no truth to the tales of secret Nazi bases and UFOs.”

  “Yet, here we are, Jeremy, on our way to a secret base in Antarctica.”

  “Yes, well, there is that.”

  “Regardless, whatever the truth is, we had best be prepared to try and escape sooner rather than later.”

  “Why?” asked Elena.

  “Because the longer we’re there, the greater the possibility that our freedom of choice and action will diminish. The captain alluded to forced servitude. I doubt any of us want to live out the rest of our lives as a slave.”

  “Screw that,” said Maclean. “I’d rather die on my feet than live as a bloody slave.”

  “Hold that thought, because the first chance we get, we’re getting out of there.”

  “Where to?” asked Hayes. “Antarctica is a vast, frozen continent that is sparsely populated. The nearest research station could be hundreds, if not thousands, of kilometers away.”

  “One thing at a time, Jeremy. I’m kind of making this up as I go along.”

  46

  “This is the captain speaking. All hands, disembark. I say again, all hands, disembark,” said Niskala over the sub’s intercom.

  “I guess the moment of truth has arrived,” said Grant.

  The cabin door opened. Silva and another armed man were waiting for them in the corridor. “Come out slowly, and don’t try anything stupid,” warned Silva, wrapping a finger around his weapon’s trigger.

  “Heaven forbid,” said Grant. He turned and looked at his friends. “Showtime.”

  Silva escorted them to a ladder leading up to the outer hull of the vessel. Grant went first. He had expected a slightly larger version of the submarine pen they found on Bouvet Island. Instead, they had docked inside a massive steel-and-concrete chamber. On one side of their craft was a German Second World War submarine, which looked to be in p
ristine condition, and on the other was a Soviet nuclear vessel. Bright lights lit up the docks like high noon.

  “My God, this is unbelievable,” said Hayes, looking around the dockyard.

  “I wonder how many meters we are below the surface of Antarctica?” pondered Maclean, glancing up at the roof.

  “It would have to be substantial in order to hide the heat produced by this place from passing satellites,” said Hayes.

  “Step back,” ordered Silva as the rest of the survivors were brought out of the submarine.

  Grant’s jaw clenched when he saw the men were shackled together in a long line.

  “March!” barked a guard.

  With their heads held high, the Rangers led the way off the craft and onto the dock, where a well-armed squad of men in black, police-style uniforms waited for them.

  “Bastards,” whispered Maclean.

  “No matter what happens, we’re not going to leave them behind,” said Grant.

  A female officer climbed down from the conning tower. She had a slender face and dark skin. “I’ve been ordered to escort you to Doctor Vogel’s office,” said the officer. Her accent sounded East African. “Follow me.”

  On the quay, two electric-powered carts driven by a pair of gray-haired guards drove up and stopped. Grant and Elena got in the first one, while Maclean and Hayes climbed in the back of the second vehicle.

  “Take us to Doctor Vogel’s residence,” said the officer to the lead driver.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, placing the vehicle in drive. They drove off the docks and through a tunnel before emerging into a vast, domed cavern.

  Grant shook his head when he saw an ancient stone pyramid surrounded by a couple of dozen smaller buildings in the middle of the cave. The pyramid reminded him of the ones he had seen at Chichén Itzá in Mexico. He glanced over at Elena and smiled at the sight of her jaw hanging open.

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” said Grant to his friend.

  “I can’t begin to describe how I feel,” replied Elena. “If I weren’t here right now, looking up at this pyramid, I never would have believed it was possible.”

  “I bet Jim is giving Jeremy the gears right now.” Grant peered over his shoulder. True enough, Maclean was having an animated discussion with Hayes.