The Eternity Machine

by Vaughn Heppner

  “Oh,” Selene said. She’d moved closer. Now, she waved at the foul air before her nose. “Whatever is in there smells bad.”

  “It’s ancient air,” Samson said. “The cyclers don’t work as well in this section. We’re only going to head in a short distance.”

  “How far do these corridors go?”

  “I’ve never reached an end.”

  “How far did you reach?” Selene asked.

  “Half a mile before I had to turn back,” Samson said. “It got too hot.”

  “Who could build something like this at various locations around the world?” Selene said.

  “You’re sounding like a broken record,” Jack told her.

  “I’m trying to wrap my mind around all this,” Selene said. “I…I expected a logical answer.”

  “I’ve been giving you logical answers,” Samson said.

  “Reasonable answers then,” Selene said.

  “They’re also reasonable. What the answers don’t do is comport to your idea of history and technology. You have to expand your thinking.”

  “I’m trying,” Selene said.

  “First,” Samson said, “let’s step away from the hatch. Then, we’ll hyperventilate. Soak your lungs with good air. You’re going to need it.”

  Jack, Selene and Samson went into the center of the dark chamber. Each of them began to breathe deeply. Selene remembered doing this during swimming parties as a teenager when they were going to see who could hold their breath underwater the longest. She’d always won those games.

  “This is it,” Samson said in a strained voice. “Follow me.”

  Selene hurried after him with Jack bringing up the rear. The D17 agent had been quiet for a while. He had a stoic look. Selene had no idea what Jack thought about all this. His hand never strayed far from the gun he’d taken from Petr though.

  The flashlight gave them enough light to show a path for their feet. Their steps echoed in the corridor. The air kept getting staler and warmer.

  Finally, the big man led them into a chamber deep underground. Selene had a sense of immense size. Samson played his flashlight on the ceiling. It was almost too far to see.

  “Ready?” he asked. His voice seemed deadened in here.

  “Show us,” Selene said.

  The Assyrian shined his light on a huge statue. It was three times Selene’s height and fashioned out of gold. It had a muscular, manlike body with the head of a jackal.

  “Is that supposed to be the Egyptian god Anubis?” Selene whispered.

  “Very good,” Samson said softly. “Did you know that Anubis was associated with mummification and the afterlife in the ancient Egyptian religion? Could that have been an old memory indicating Anubis had something to do with extended life?”

  The big man shined his light on a square stone object cracked open horizontally. Selene realized the crack wasn’t jagged, but smooth and straight. Someone had hinged a stone lid onto the object. With his light, Samson showed them thick metallic cords snaking from the stone to a wall. The cords disappeared into the wall.

  Selene approached the object, which seemed like a giant coffin. Was there an ancient mummy in there? She heard buzzing from the object, and there were hieroglyphics painted on the stone.

  “Do you know what the hieroglyphics say?” Selene asked.

  “I do. It says, MODEL 3.”

  Selene felt lightheaded. The stone object felt extremely old. She had to admit that. Yet, the stone hummed softly with internal power.

  “What is it?” Selene asked. “You’re not suggesting it’s a coffin, are you?”

  “Here,” Samson told Jack, handing the agent the flashlight. “Keep shining it on the stone.”

  Jack kept the light there.

  Samson approached the object. He pushed against the lid, raising it with a grunt. “Can you see?” he asked.

  Selene approached, relieved there wasn’t a mummy. Instead, there was a body-shaped cavity in the middle of the stone. Studying the lid, she saw a similar cavity to match the lower one. She also saw more hieroglyphics inside.

  “What do they say?” she asked in a soft voice.

  “LONGEVITY TREATMENT LOT 3 BETA-9,” Samson said.

  Selene shook her head. “How…how does it work?”

  “Do you see those tiny holes in the cavity areas?”

  Selene squinted. Yes, she did see them. They were everywhere around the body cavity both upper and lower.

  “I have surmised the process,” Samson said. “Of course, one must lay a person in there and close the lid. If you’ll notice, up there is a tiny nozzle that will spray mist. I believe the mist is a numbing agent. Afterward—here, let me show you.”

  The big man drew needle-nose pliers from a back pocket. He leaned in, inserting the nose of the pliers into a hole. Carefully, he extended a wicked-looking silver needle.

  Selene shivered at the sight. If each of the holes thrust a needle—over one hundred of them would jab into the person lying in the body cavity.

  “Notice the needle’s length,” Samson said. “If a person were trapped in the stone, the needles might well jab into the prisoner’s bones, into the marrow. I believe they would inject that person with a longevity serum. Maybe the serum would change the person’s very nature.”

  “A horrifying and brutal process,” Selene whispered.

  “Agreed, but possibly well worth it depending on how long the person would live afterward.”

  “Why haven’t you tried it?” Jack asked. “The stone coffin strikes me as operational.”

  Samson nodded absently. “I haven’t dared to try. I’m afraid Mother has already given me an anti-serum. If I closed the lid on myself, I think I would die in a horrible manner. I’m sure that would delight Mother to no end.”

  It grew quiet in the chamber. Several seconds later, a distant boom caused Samson to look up.

  “What is it?” Jack asked. “What just happened?”

  Before Samson could answer, a woman spoke, “I auto-closed a hatch, sealing you in this passage.”

  Samson swung the flashlight around; he’d taken it back from Jack. The huge Assyrian searched for the source of the voice. Jack drew his gun, training it in the darkness from the direction the voice had come.

  “Look,” Selene whispered in horror.

  Samson must have seen it. He aimed the light on the golden statue. The jackal eyes of Anubis glowed brightly. Then, what had first appeared as a giant statue moved in robotic stiffness toward them.

  -66-

  STATION EIGHT

  IRAN

  Jack fired at the ancient robot. The bullet ricocheted with a spark, hitting a wall, making a secondary spark, a third and a fourth before it lost its energy and tumbled onto the floor.

  “Run!” Samson shouted.

  “Where will you run?” the Anubis robot asked. “I’ve sealed the outer access hatch. You’re trapped with me, my naughty boy. I must say, however, that I am impressed with your insights. You are correct in thinking you cannot use the longevity treatment. I do so wish you had tried, though.”

  “You’re…Mother?” Selene asked. “You’re an ancient robot?”

  The golden head turned, the glowing Anubis eyes focusing on Selene. “Must you ask such absurd questions? You are—”

  Since his first useless shot Jack had been analyzing the robot—if that’s what it was. He aimed carefully now, targeting the left eye. A flash of fire blazed from the barrel of the gun. The Anubis head swayed as something metallic broke and shattered on it. The glow from the left eye-port flickered wildly before dying out.

  The jackal-head swiveled toward Elliot. “You are a resourceful agent, aren’t you? I can see why Secretary King delighted in you.”

  Jack fired again. He sparked the forehead as the bullet ricocheted off, missing the right eye-port, bouncing around the room.

  The robot accelerated in its stiff gait. Jack lined up the gun for another shot. The mobile statue moved swiftly. He couldn’t get a dece
nt shot but he held his position, determined to blind the thing while he had the chance.

  Just before the clanking monstrosity reached him, Samson tackled Elliot, propelling them out of the robot’s path. The takedown surprised Jack, knocking the gun out of his hand. It went sliding across the floor.

  The robot slowed after it passed the two, but not fast enough. The giant construct struck a wall, rebounding from it, staggering and toppling onto its back on the floor with a loud crash.

  “Cursed machinery,” Mother said. “I don’t—”

  “Put the receptors against your limbs like so,” a man said through the robot’s mouth, his voice fainter than Mother’s.

  “Oh,” Mother said. “That’s what you were talking about before. Yes. Excellent.”

  The robot spun around on the floor, pushing up, climbing to its feet in a smoother manner than it had run moments before.

  Jack scrambled to his feet, searching the darkness for his gun. He couldn’t see it. “Shine your light around,” he hissed. “I have to find my gun.”

  Samson swept the light in various directions.

  “There!” Selene shouted. “I see it. It’s to your left about fifteen feet away.”

  Jack saw it, too. He raced for the gun. The robot followed with its dreadful clangs. He had to shoot out the last eye-port, blind Mother from using the ancient technology against them.

  Jack tried to scoop up the gun on the run.

  “Look out, Jack! It’s right behind you.”

  He didn’t look. He was concentrating too hard on getting his gun. He reached down, grabbed it—and cold, golden, outsized hands gripped his wrists. The robot lifted him off the metal floor, raising him so his boots dangled several feet in the air.

  “I am going to tear your arms off, Agent Elliot,” Mother said. “I am going to watch you scream in agony. Then, I shall do likewise to Samson. You have angered me with your persistence, my boy.”

  The robot turned, pushing Jack forward in the air as she kept him dangling. “What do you think, Dr. Khan? Are you impressed yet?”

  Jack strained in the robot’s grasp. He had no chance of breaking free. Yet, he had to think of something else… What if—

  “Selene,” he said.

  The doctor’s horrified gaze switched from the jackal-head to him.

  “Use your tuning fork!” Jack shouted. “Maybe it can shark this thing.”

  “Quiet,” Mother said, as the robot shook him. “I can prolong your agony if you desire.”

  “Who are you?” Jack said. “What is your goal?”

  “Always the efficient D17 agent,” Mother said. “The—”

  A vibrating hum cut off her speech.

  Samson’s flashlight beam caught Selene. She stood with the tuning fork in her hands. The fork part vibrated wildly, making Selene’s hands tremble.

  “Quick, Jack,” Selene said in a shaky voice. “Pry yourself free.”

  Jack squirmed, but he couldn’t break the robot’s hold. “Get out of here,” he told them. “Escape while you can.”

  “No,” Selene said. “I’m going to try other buttons.”

  “Listen to me,” Jack told her.

  Deliberately, Selene pressed another button on the tuning fork’s control pad. The vibrating sound changed pitch.

  Jack felt the robot vibrate. “It’s doing something to it!” he shouted.

  Selene stepped closer, aiming the tuning fork at the golden robot.

  The vibrating worsened, although Jack felt the robot’s fingers tighten. He endured the grinding together of his wrists bones. Suddenly, parts inside the robot ground against each other. There were electrical pops and sizzling sounds. The smell of electrical smoke made Jack cough. The metal hands no longer tightened. In fact, the left opened enough for him to rip his wrist free.

  Jack gritted his teeth as he dangled from one arm. He looked down. It was at least a three-foot drop to the floor.

  More popping and sizzling sounds came from the ancient construct. The other golden hand loosened its hold.

  Jack fell. He braced himself, striking the metal floor, rolling to absorb the shock.

  The last glowing eye winked out. The jackal mouth had opened. Flashes of light emitted from it. Then, dark smoke billowed out of it. The statue leaned forward.

  “Get out of the way!” Selene shouted.

  Jack scrambled across the floor, barely getting out of the path, as the golden monstrosity banged against the metal tiles.

  A gush of flames spewed from the mouth. Afterward, an interior explosion dampened the fire. Showers of sparks emitted like a Fourth of July firework. Abruptly, that ceased as well.

  As it did, Selene clicked off the tuning fork. The vibrating sounds in the chamber quit. A few soft buzzing noises emitted from the robot. Otherwise, silence filled the smoky chamber.

  Mother did not speak from the robot again.

  “Where did you get that?” Samson asked.

  “From an underwater station in the Indian Ocean,” Selene said softly. “Why, does it matter?”

  “It’s a hummer,” Samson said.

  “Okay.”

  “I think we can use it.”

  “To do what?” Selene asked.

  “To get into a chamber that might tell us why Station Eight went offline.”

  -67-

  SUB-ROAD 112

  IRAN

  The air-conditioner roared at full power as the SUV raced for Alamut Mountain. It was blistering hot outside, had been like that at the tiny airport where they’d landed. Marcus sat behind the wheel, taking the mountain road much too fast. He trusted his reflexes. The heated tires squealed constantly as each of them swayed from side to side.

  “Monsieur,” Ney said. “Your tablet is buzzing.”

  “Press the bottom switch,” Marcus said, refusing to tear his gaze from the road. “Then hold it up so I can glance at the screen.”

  “Wei, monsieur,” Ney said, obediently following the instructions.

  “My boy,” a robotic voice said from the tablet. “I have grave news. Samson Mark Three is inside Station Eight with Jack Elliot and Selene Khan.”

  “Samson Mark Three?” Marcus asked.

  “Just a minute,” the robotic voice said. “I see. You’re not rated for that revelation yet. Samson carries modified genetic material in him. He’s fast and strong—like you.”

  “He’s one of your children?” Marcus asked.

  “Precisely,” the robotic voice said.

  “Does he possess advanced weaponry?” Marcus asked.

  “It’s quite possible. You must handle the situation with extreme prejudice.”

  Marcus frowned. The three subjects were in Station Eight. Was it possible Mother lacked information concerning their present actions? He’d always assumed she had security data on everything going on inside a station. By her words, it seemed his assumption was faulty.

  “What about Dr. Khan?” Marcus asked. “Do you still desire her capture?”

  “More than ever,” the robotic voice said. “Her resourcefulness impresses me. I want her captured with minimal damage. I plan to use her. The other two are highly dangerous. I cannot risk their continued existence. I’m too close…”

  “Yes?” Marcus asked.

  “Hurry, my boy,” the robotic voice said. “In this instance, you may use a Level II weapon and security arrangement.”

  Marcus raised his eyebrows. A Level II weapon and field—this was unprecedented.

  “Dr. Khan has acquired a hummer, by the way. It seems she stole it from Station Thirteen. If I had been informed earlier…”

  Marcus kept his features deadpan. Mother had dropped several amazing hints tonight. Could it be possible the nearness of The Day caused her anxiety? Normally, Mother acted as cold as ice. He would have to remember that she was human after all.

  “I should be at Alamut Castle in fifteen minutes,” he said.

  “That should be sufficient. Show me your mettle, my boy, and I will bump you into
the next rank once you reach headquarters. The things I can show you…You will marvel at what I am about to achieve. Your wildest dreams cannot conceive of it, dearest Marcus. That means your highest concentration is needed tonight.”

  “I hear and obey,” he said.

  Mother cut the connection.

  With a scowl, Marcus ordered Ney to lower the tablet. Then, the big man put a little more pressure on the accelerator. The SUV’s tires squealed as they took the next turn faster than ever.

  -68-

  STATION EIGHT

  IRAN

  Selene felt strung-out, her nerves exhausted. The golden Anubis robot had severely shaken her. The stone object with its hideous needles—it truly gave longevity treatments?

  This was too strange, too unbelievable. Why had the instructions been written in ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics? Could Samson’s theories be correct? Had Souk touched upon the truth? Did a few select women throughout history live incredibly long lives? Had they been the genius behind a vast conspiracy stretching throughout time?

  “I just realized something,” Samson said.

  Selene remained mute.

  “What’s that?” Jack asked.

  “The golden robot…” Samson said. “It brings to mind a story from ancient Crete. Legend holds that a giant man made of bronze patrolled the shoreline three times a day. Its name was Talos. Some stories say the bronze man hurled rocks at passing ships to scare them away.”

  “You’re suggesting the robot used to do that?” Jack asked.

  “Many myths and legends contain hints of truth,” Samson said. “Maybe the legend of Talos is an old memory of golden robots.”

  Selene shook her head. It felt as if her world tilted toward madness. The man couldn’t be serious, could he?

  “We must hurry,” Samson said. “Mother will not rest until she’s stopped us.”

  The big man marched them through Station Eight. With the hummer, as he called it, he opened hatches that had resisted his best efforts previously. They moved along a gleaming steel corridor, the diffuse glow in the ceiling lighting their way.

  Jack kept touching his right wrist. It had already purpled from the robot’s treatment. The D17 agent looked more worn than ever. He never complained, though. The man had a will of iron, refusing to succumb. What had made him like that? He’d shouted at them to run away at the end. Selene hadn’t expected such gallantry from him. Jack Elliot seemed too grim for such gestures.