The Founders

by Richard Turner

  The vehicles drove past the ancient settlement and carried on down another tunnel. They emerged once more into a smaller cavern with long, wooden barracks, workshops, and several office buildings. Grant noticed armed men patrolling the grounds. The two vehicles slowed and came to a stop outside a two-story building.

  “Follow me,” said the female officer.

  Grant helped Elena out of the cart and waited for his comrades to catch up with them before accompanying the officer inside the building. Two heavily armed men guarded the front entrance. The officer led them up the stairs to the second floor, where two more guards stood watch.

  “Mister Vogel is expecting us,” said the woman, holding up her ID for the men to read.

  “This place has more security than Fort Knox,” whispered Maclean.

  “Makes you wonder what—or whom—they’re afraid of,” responded Grant.

  “This way,” said the officer, leading them down the hallway until they came to a polished steel door. A camera mounted on the wall followed their every movement. A second later, the door slid open.

  “Herr Vogel will see you now,” said the woman, moving to one side.

  “You’re not coming in with us?” asked Grant.

  “No,” she replied.

  Grant looked inside the spacious room. The furniture and paintings looked like they came from 1940s Europe. A fit, middle-aged man with wavy, salt-and-pepper hair stood in the middle of the room. He was wearing a gray suit with a matching shirt and black tie. The man had a confident air about him. It was obvious he enjoyed being in command. He smiled and ushered them in.

  “Good day to you all,” said the man with a slight German accent. “My name is Doctor Frederick Vogel. There is no need to introduce yourselves. I have read your files and feel that I already know all of you.”

  “I hope you’ll excuse us if we don’t share your enthusiasm,” said Grant. “Being drugged and kidnapped is not how my colleagues and I normally meet people.”

  “I’m truly sorry for how you were treated, but it was the only way I could think of to get you here without anyone noticing.”

  “An invitation would have worked for me,” said Maclean.

  “An invitation from whom?” said Vogel. “Don’t forget, Sergeant, the German Government’s official war records list me as missing and presumed dead in 1945. The last time I checked, ghosts don’t send out invites.”

  “This place is an archeological treasure,” said Elena. “How did you find it?”

  “Where are my manners?” said Vogel. “Please, let us sit down and have some tea, while I answer your questions.”

  They sat down on a matching pair of green leather sofas, while Vogel got comfortable in an armchair facing them. A side door opened, and a teenage boy walked in, carrying a silver tray with a teapot and five cups. He set the cups down, poured the tea, bowed respectfully at Vogel, and left without saying a word.

  “Now, Doctor Leon, to answer your question, I was contacted by The Founders as a child and steered on a path that would eventually lead me here,” explained Vogel. “I made sure I was part of the Nazi expedition to Antarctica in 1939. We came here to claim the territory for the Greater German Reich and to see if we could establish a full-time whaling station on the continent. At least, those were the expedition’s stated aims. I was instructed by The Founders to find this magnificent place and get it back in working order. Which I was able to do after the war with the assistance of Captain Niskala and his brave crew of volunteers.”

  Grant sat forward. “Mister Vogel, as much as I like a good stroll down memory lane, everyone keeps talking about The Founders. What I’d like to know is who they are, and why would they care about this lifeless place?”

  “Trust a soldier to be blunt,” said Vogel. “I suppose it’s built into your training not to waste time. A delegation from The Founders will be arriving later tonight. I have arranged for you to meet them, and to ask them anything you like. I’ve never seen them refuse to answer a question posed to them.”

  “When will this delegation be arriving?” asked Hayes.

  “At precisely 1930 hours. One thing about The Founders, they’re quite punctual.”

  “Doctor Vogel, the sub’s captain claimed to have not aged a day since the end of the war,” said Maclean. “I take it by your appearance that you have also stopped aging?”

  “We still age, just at an incredibly slower rate than the rest of the population,” explained Vogel. “Those of us who have been here since 1945 have aged maybe three or four months.”

  “I’m pretty open-minded about most things, but I just don’t see how such a thing is possible,” said Maclean.

  “The Founders made it possible. After we had established our presence here, they visited us and blessed us with a long life. I know it may seem hard to believe, but I can assure you that I’m not lying to you.”

  “Does everyone receive the same treatment?” asked Elena.

  “No, it was only granted to the original fifty-eight volunteers,” replied Vogel. “That is why, from time to time, we must replenish our workforce.”

  “Captain Niskala told me that we could join your little science experiment or be forced into servitude,” said Grant. “I take it your workers were all given the same option.”

  “Correct,” said Vogel. “Most see the benefits of joining us and do so willingly.”

  “I take it that means the people you took off the boat in chains will be given the chance to join you?” asked Maclean.

  “The civilians, yes,” said Vogel. “The soldiers and the mercenaries, no. They’ll never agree to serve The Founders. Once I have made up my mind what to do with them, they’ll be disposed of.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Grant saw Maclean’s eyes narrow. He tried to reach over and place a hand on his friend’s arm to calm him, but he was too slow.

  Maclean stood and glared at Vogel. “Well, Doc, you can count me out. I don’t want anything to do with you or your precious Founders. I’m a soldier, and damn proud of it. If you can’t accept that, then I guess you’ll have to lock me up with the others for disposal.”

  Vogel shook his head. “Sergeant, I had hoped you would be less predictable. However, I respect your decision, as foolish as it may be.” With that, Vogel motioned for a guard to take Maclean away.

  “James, please think about what you’re doing,” pleaded Hayes. “They’ll most likely kill you.”

  “I don’t care, Professor,” said Maclean. “I’m not going to join Herr Vogel and the Fourth Reich.”

  “We’re not Nazis,” said Vogel. “Our mission is to help humanity grow to its fullest potential, not destroy it.”

  “I don’t care,” Maclean replied defiantly.

  Vogel waved a hand in the air. “I’ve had enough of this spectacle. Take him away and lock him up with the others.”

  “David, you can’t let them take him away,” protested Elena to Grant, who sat stone-faced and silent.

  “See you around,” said Maclean with a wave to his comrades as he was led away at gunpoint.

  “David, please do something!” cried Elena.

  “There is nothing Captain Grant could have done for his friend,” said Vogel. “He has chosen his future. I shan’t ask you three what your decision is until tomorrow morning. Now, I’ve kept you long enough. I have work to do before our guests arrive, so I must ask you to leave. Lieutenant Kassim is waiting for you downstairs. She’s prepared to give you a tour of the installation and then escort you to your quarters, where you can rest until The Founders arrive.”

  Grant stood and avoided the burning look of anger in Elena’s eyes.

  No sooner had they stepped in the hallway than Elena smacked Grant on the arm. “God damn you, David, you did absolutely nothing to help James,” said Elena “He’s your friend; you should have done something.”

  Grant saw one of the guards watching them. He grabbed Elena by the shoulders. “Don’t tell me what I should have done. Sergeant Maclea
n knows what he’s doing.” He pulled her close, seeing fear in her eyes. As fast he could, he gave her a wink and let go of her.

  “Please, you two, now isn’t the time to fall apart,” said Hayes, stepping between Elena and Grant.

  “It’s okay, Jeremy,” said Elena, running a hand over her rumpled clothes. “I’ll be all right.”

  “Down the stairs,” ordered the guard.

  Outside, Lieutenant Kassim sat in the backseat of a six-wheeled vehicle. “I have been instructed to give you a tour of our facilities,” said Kassim. “Is there any place you would like to see first?”

  “Before we go anywhere, can you answer a few questions?” asked Hayes.

  “Most certainly.”

  “First off, how do you power this place? Do you have a nuclear reactor?”

  “No. we use geothermal power. There is an old volcano a few kilometers away that hasn’t erupted in centuries. We use it to run everything you see.”

  “Second, I’d like to know who built the dome over the ancient village.”

  “The Founders did. When the great cataclysm at the end of the last ice age occurred, and Antarctica began to move south, it was apparent that the civilization living there was doomed, so to preserve their culture and to protect their future, a protective dome was built. In time, the tunnel connecting this base to the sea was constructed as well.”

  “What happened to the people living here, and who were they?”

  “There was an ancient civilization, known as the Tuwaryans, that predates the last age. They lived mainly here in Antarctica, which was known as Tuwar to its original inhabitants. There were smaller Tuwaryan colonies in South America, Asia, and Turkey. Some Tuwaryans stayed here, but all eventually perished. The remainder fled to warmer areas of the world. That is why you find elements of the Tuwaryan culture all over the world today.”

  “What is The Founders’ fascination with this place?” asked Elena.

  “Jump in, and I’ll show you,” said Kassim.

  When everyone was seated, the driver accelerated and drove off back down the tunnel and straight toward the ancient stone pyramid. They stopped at the base of the structure and hopped out of the vehicle. Kassim led everyone through an opening on the side of the pyramid. A few seconds later, they came out into a large, brightly lit room. On the floor were hundreds of stone pedestals identical to the ones found in Mount San Fernando.

  “The Founders are a nostalgic race,” said Kassim. “Even though this city hadn’t been visited since the great cataclysm, they steered Doctor Vogel here to restart the work they had once done from this facility.”

  Grant shook his head. “I take it The Founders were mass-producing people here as well.”

  “It’s not that simple, Captain,” said Kassim. “They were improving the human race, while at the same time preserving their own from extinction.”

  “You’re talking about people with A-negative blood, aren’t you?” said Elena.

  “That is correct,” replied Kassim.

  “How can that help save their people from extinction?” asked Grant.

  “Most of the embryos produced here and elsewhere were, and continue to be, taken with The Founders back to their homeworld for further genetic enhancements.”

  “Hybrids…they’re building human and alien hybrids,” said Elena. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “It is the only way to save them.”

  “Why? What happened to them?” asked Grant.

  “War, pollution, and the overconsumption of resources,” replied Kassim. “We’re facing the same fate, if we don’t smarten up as a species.”

  “You said that The Founders still continue to take human embryos away with them,” said Hayes.

  Kassim nodded. “I did.”

  “Is this practice still being done here today?”

  “Yes.”

  Grant stepped forward. “Show us.”

  47

  “Get in there,” snarled the guard, pushing Maclean down a couple of steps into a darkened room.

  He stumbled over his feet but managed to remain upright. The pungent smell of body odor assaulted his nostrils. Maclean squinted around the dimly lit area waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark.

  “I see they got you, too,” said Staff Sergeant Wright, rising from a wooden bench against the wall.

  “Yeah, you could say that,” Mclean replied.

  “Watch your step,” warned Wright, pointing at the floor.

  Maclean glanced down and saw the battered and bloodied body of Angus, the mercenary. “What happened?”

  “His colleagues took exception to his earlier discussion with Captain Grant and let him know about it.”

  “I take it he’s dead?”

  “He hasn’t moved in over an hour, so I guess he’s never going to again.”

  Maclean looked around the room. There were about fifty people spread out along the walls. A handful of Asian men looked as if they had been pulled from the sea only a few days ago. Shen sat with them. The rest of the people were dirty, disheveled, and exhausted-looking.

  “How long have these people been locked up?” asked Maclean.

  “Lieutenant Larsen, are you awake?” called out Wright.

  An emaciated man with a long beard, wearing rags, got up from a bench and walked over. “Good day, I’m Larsen.”

  “Sir, could you tell Mister Maclean what you told me when we were tossed in here with you?” said Wright.

  Larsen cleared his throat. “I hope you have an open mind, Mister Maclean, because what I’m about to tell you may seem somewhat unbelievable.”

  “Trust me, Lieutenant, after what I’ve been through, I doubt you’re going to surprise me,” said Maclean.

  “Come, let us take a seat,” said Larsen.

  The three men sat in a corner.

  “To begin things, my name is Lieutenant Karl Larsen and was a junior officer on the submarine that brought you here. We were on our way to Malaysia with a mixed crew of Swedish and Malaysian sailors to hand the sub over to the Royal Malaysian Navy when we inexplicably began to lose power off the coast of South America. The captain ordered us to blow our ballast tanks and surface to see what the problem was. When we surfaced, we were faced with something I still find hard to believe.”

  “Let me guess. There was a glowing disc hovering over your sub that also had jammed your communications?” said Maclean.

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  “It fits the pattern. Please continue.”

  “We were ordered to leave a skeleton crew onboard, while the rest were transferred to an old, hijacked Soviet Viktor Class submarine. When we resurfaced, we were here in this godforsaken place. We were given a chance to join these madmen or become their slaves. Regrettably, two men, one Norwegian and one Malaysian, volunteered to join them.”

  “What about the other people trapped in here with you?”

  “When we arrived, one of the Russian sailors from the captured Viktor Class sub was still alive. His story matched ours. Unfortunately, he died of exhaustion a week later. The rest are a mix of people taken prisoner when their ships sank. There are eight Chinese sailors in here, who were recently forced to abandon their ship. Believe it or not, they were rescued by the people manning my submarine.”

  “Are you the senior officer here?”

  Larsen nodded. “My captain refused to work in the mines, so they took him away and had him fight one of their creatures until it ripped him to pieces. We were forced to watch his brutal death as a warning to the rest of us.”

  “Do you know how many people make up the opposition?”

  “I think there are around one hundred and fifty of them. Thirty are guards; the rest are technicians, scientists, and crew for the submarine.”

  “Tell him the problem you told me, sir,” said Wright to Larsen.

  “They’re planning on leaving here. The first batch of people have already gone. The next batch will leave in the next two to three days, using the
submarine to transport them to their new base. We’ve been helping them pack their supplies as well as prepare charges in the geothermal plant to bring this place down when the last people leave.”

  “I take it they don’t intend to take any of us with them when they leave?” said Maclean.

  “No, they do not.”

  “Did they say why they were packing up?”

  “The South Atlantic isn’t as isolated as it once used to be. They’ve already selected another location in the north from which to continue their operations.”

  “I take it they didn’t tell you the location of this new base?”

  “No. It’s a huge secret. I’m not even sure that all of the people working here know where they are going.”

  “Fortunately, it’ll take time for them to move everyone from this base to their new one. That’ll give us the opportunity we need.”

  Larsen ran a hand through his unkempt beard. “Opportunity to do what?”

  “To escape, naturally.”

  “Mister Maclean, I admire your enthusiasm, but no one has ever successfully escaped from this prison.”

  Maclean grinned. “You don’t think I was foolish enough to get thrown in here without an escape plan, do you?”

  “What are you thinking, sir?” asked Wright.

  “We have to be patient and go about our business as they expect us to. The only difference is that we’ll be organized and ready to strike when the opportunity presents itself.”

  “And just how will this opportunity arise?” asked Larsen.

  “We still have people on the outside, and trust me, Captain Grant’s going to spring us the first chance he gets. Until then, we need to plan how to get away from here.”

  “I have enough men still on their feet who could operate the submarine,” said Larsen, growing excited at the prospect of leaving.

  “Okay, that’s the spirit. What about the docks? How many men guard them, and where can we get our hands on some weapons?”

  In the dark, a man with an English accent said, “Your plan won’t work if you don’t block the tunnel leading to the submarine pen. You need to keep them at bay long enough for you to get the sub ready to sail.”