2041 Sanctuary (Let There Be Light)

by Robert Storey

  Back in the present, inside a cold, dark cave, miles beneath the mountains of Mexico, the sound of Sarah’s approach made Trish glance back. Slipping her own headwear back on, she turned round.

  ‘We still friends?’ Sarah said.

  Trish wiped away traces of tears from her face and shrugged. ‘Does it matter? You’ll do what you want anyway. You always do.’

  ‘I only do what I think is right. It worked, didn’t it?’

  Trish seemed like she was about to say something, but instead she moved past Sarah without another word, the tension between them unresolved. Sarah knew she’d come round eventually, and she also knew she’d done the right thing. The clock was ticking and they had to find the Anakim temple so they could use its transportation device to get back to the surface, assuming that’s where it transported them to, anyway. Thinking about the things that could go wrong with their plan, which were still many, Sarah told herself to get a grip. I can’t afford to lose focus. Not now. There’s too much riding on this. Everything was on the line – not just their lives, but justice for her mother, justice for history and justice for the people. Her expression became determined, her purpose resuming its crystal clarity. Find the temple, get to the surface. Get to the surface, change the world.

  Sarah switched on her helmet’s twin torches and pressed a button located near her temple to open the coms channel to her friends. ‘Time to move,’ she said, and gestured towards the route ahead.

  Behind, the lights from the Centipede traced her shadow on the rocks as Trish and Jason followed her into another long dark tunnel, the bonds of friendship tested, the route ahead uncertain. Putting one foot in front of the other, tired muscles aching and her climbing boots biting into loose deposit, Sarah resumed her journey into the bowels of the Earth, the call of the surface an all-consuming vision.

  Chapter Six

  Shadows danced across rough, cracked stone walls, the sheen of a mysterious substrate on the cave roof reflecting the Centipede’s main beams like thousands of tiny diamonds. The three companions moved through Sanctuary Proper, their footfalls echoing loud as the way ahead narrowed.

  Sarah called a halt to proceedings, the time for rest a necessity. ‘Grab some sleep,’ she said, ‘I’ll wake you in a few hours for some food and water and then we’ll get moving again.’

  Too tired to respond, Jason slumped to the floor with a great sigh. No sooner had he slipped off his helmet than he’d fallen asleep, his breathing slowing to a shallow rhythmic rise and fall. Trish, quick to follow his lead, lay down close by, her eyes also drifting closed. Sarah powered down the supply vehicle, selected a place to rest and switched off her helmet visor. The ice blue display gave a bleep before fading to transparency and the blackness of the subterranean catacomb closed in around her. Blinded by dark she sat down against the curve of a curious Anakim structure that emerged from the ground. The finger of rock could not be a natural formation and neither, for that matter, could the cave system itself, unless Sarah was missing something. The ancient builders of Sanctuary, nearly a million years before, had somehow mastered the moulding of the Earth’s crust into formations that looked to be of a geological composition, a synthetic construct simulating natural progression. It was a feat of engineering that she continued to marvel at and one she didn’t care to dwell on as sleep eluded her. Despite tired eyes, Sarah felt wired, an anxious mind inside a weary shell of flesh and bone.

  Feeling she needed to do something in order to promote mental apathy, she reached down inside a pocket on her red and blue Deep Reach uniform and withdrew an object wrapped within a piece of thick, white cloth. The rough fabric appeared grey under the dim light of the Centipede’s low level night light to which her dilated pupils had now grown accustomed. Placing it on the ground, she peeled aside the material to reveal the contents within. An orb-like artefact lay before her. Each of its twelve metal sides, made up of yellow and green flecked surfaces, was in the shape of a pentagon, a form that seemed to be of great significance to the race of giants – our long extinct cousins, Homo gigantis – that had forged it. The orb was no normal Anakim object, however, as its recent history suggested it was as far from normal as normal could be. When Sarah had first laid eyes upon it, it rested amongst nine of its fellows in a restricted chamber within USSB Sanctuary’s super-secure U.S. military laboratory complex. At the time Sarah had been on a return journey from reclaiming other ancient artefacts that had been confiscated from her upon entry into the subterranean base. In an attempt at avoiding being discovered, she’d stumbled across a treasure trove of Anakim technology undergoing complex scientific study. Unwilling to pass by such an opportunity, she’d decided to steal one of the orbs, which weighed as much as a lump of solid lead. It was a weight she’d considered bestowing on their mechanical supply vehicle many times in the last week, but the artefact was one she’d vowed to keep close, such was its significance in proving the existence of the Anakim and Sanctuary itself.

  She couldn’t afford to lose it, this strange and otherworldly orb, although Trish and Jason had both voiced their unease at her having it with them at all. The reason for their continued concern was perhaps understandable. Sarah could still remember the agonising sensations that had rendered her unconscious when she’d held the orb against the skin of her palm for more than a few seconds. But that was nothing to how it had reacted to another’s touch, a woman who’d being trying to prevent Sarah from fleeing the base with her prizes. Her name had been Cora, a member of Sarah’s Deep Reach team Alpha Six, and when she’d held the orb it had sent her into a seizure that ended in a broken spine and death. That the woman was – had – been ten steps beyond the wrong side of crazy and had been trying to kill Sarah prior to this was beside the point, the object had shown what it was capable of and that was all her friends needed to know. Sarah on the other hand felt differently, this small, yet dense object had saved her life and she felt a strange kind of empathy with it.

  She reached out to brush her fingertips against its side, caressing it like a lover, tender and light. She noted its rough corrugated surface, which turned smooth when activated. Activated to do what she knew not, only that to be holding it when it did come to life was not a wise move in anyone’s book; anyone that didn’t want to chance dying, that was.

  With her memories lingering on that time, she remembered the silver script that had once adorned the orb, script that had transferred to the skin on her hands prior to the darkness taking her. In the present, she looked at her palms before rubbing them together with the faint hope of bringing the vanished lettering back to the surface. Like anyone would in her position, she hoped the transposition of the Anakim symbols to her body didn’t represent a threat to her well-being. So far she’d felt no ill effects from the process, but it did leave a niggling doubt in the periphery of her mind. What has this thing done to me? Is it permanent? Could it render me unconscious at a later date?

  Dispelling such thoughts with a shake of her head, Sarah yawned and felt the chain that hung around her neck move; reaching inside her coveralls she pulled it out. Two disc-like, pentagonal pendants dangled before her, both cast from a smooth, silver-grey metal. The smaller of the two was plain, with a small circle set into the centre on one side. This she had found a few years before; however, the second pendant was her prize possession and it was also what was going to get them back to the surface, or so she hoped. With intricate symbols embossed onto it, the larger pendant measured two and a half inches in diameter and, like its sibling, had a hoop at one end. Unlike the other it had a small clip at the bottom, covering a cylindrical hole which contained a tightly furled Anakim parchment – a kind of digital paper – something that Sarah had returned to its original home after she’d retrieved it from the U.S. Army’s military vaults, just prior to their escape from the base.

  Sarah felt the temptation to use the pendant to power up another, smaller, parchment, one of many secured in her Deep Reach jacket. She knew, though, that doing so on her own
would mean the device would use up her energy reserves as the pendant was in actuality not a power source at all, but rather a conduit to power Anakim technology using the wearer’s own bioelectricity. Of course this meant that the device was limited by its owner’s physical capacity, which by definition was finite. It also meant that some Anakim technology could not be powered by humans, or at least not a single human anyway, unless they weighed north of four hundred and fifty pounds.

  To activate an ancient device the pendant needed to be touching a person’s skin, and then usually a hand, finger or bare foot would be placed on a circular indent of a size the Anakim had deemed appropriate for the object in question. With Homo gigantis weighing in at least three times that of an average human, their power reserves and thus potential were much greater; however, if the pendant’s operator had contact with other people, skin on skin – a hand on a bare arm, for instance – then the capacity of the power source increased. This allowed Anakim devices to be activated with less drain on the pendant’s host, or alternatively it enabled smaller operators to manage larger devices.

  Sarah gave a wry smile in the dark, never believing she’d be thinking such thoughts. Even in her wildest dreams she couldn’t have imagined what they’d discovered. She would have been happy with part of a skeleton, a single parchment or artefact. To have been witness to the wonders of Sanctuary blew her mind. If it hadn’t been for the extreme dangers that went with that knowledge, she would’ve had to pinch herself to see if she was dreaming.

  One thing was for certain though, without the pendant Sarah could never have activated the transportation device that had sent her, Trish and Jason down into the depths of the Earth. It was, without doubt, unique. She still wondered why the smaller pendant didn’t work in a similar fashion. Jason had suggested it was broken, or just a fashion item, symbolic in nature, perhaps to be used as part of a ritual or ceremony. Whatever the reason, it had become obsolete in terms of comparative usefulness. It was still an Anakim artefact, though, and thus an object to be cherished.

  With a last look, she tucked the pendants away, their hidden forms resting back against the skin of her chest. Patting them three times in OCD-like reassurance, Sarah then gave the orb one last stroke before returning it to her coveralls. Settling down, the sound of Jason’s snoring a monotonous choral backdrop, Sarah drifted into slumber.

  ♦

  A spark of light tempted her forward, coaxing her into its warm, protective grasp. It commanded and Sarah obeyed. With a touch of her hand the heat increased. Why do you fear me? A voice echoed in her mind. Am I not what you desire? A dagger of pain sliced into her head and Sarah screamed. Recognition bloomed and she ran, desperate for escape. Through a tunnel and down she fell. No bottom, no up. Her mind spun and her terror rose. Fleeing into delirium, she fought for release. Darkness compressed her, pulling her back, back from the light, back from freedom. Held by hands unseen, Sarah struggled. Her skin tore, blood trickled and bones broke. She couldn’t escape. The heat grew stronger and the spark of fire enveloped her mind. Choking black smoke gushed into her nose and throat, filling her lungs, the taste of ash and death burning her tongue. Her mother’s scream echoed her own as the house collapsed in an inferno. Hair afire, skin melting and peeling back, Sarah watched her mother burn. Sobbing in torment she screamed again, the torture of her soul complete.

  Sarah jerked awake, the remnants of her pitiful squeals of fear echoing in her ears. Drenched in sweat, eyes darting every which way, she breathed deep, the intensity of the dream causing her lucid mind to mirror the horror of the fallacy it had created. And yet the false imagery was based on the reality of her life and a vivid reminder of her underlying guilt.

  She swore and wiped the salty perspiration from her face. A noise in the distance made her swing round. Jason remained where he was, but Trish was nowhere to be seen. Getting to her feet and slipping on her Deep Reach helmet, she powered up her visor. The OLED display sent a glow of light across her face as the spectral enhanced image turned an endless subterranean night to a clear scene of detailed grey.

  Sarah knew the folly of going anywhere in a dangerous environment alone and without another’s knowledge, and so she bent down and shook Jason awake.

  Uttering a grunt of protest he rolled over, his state of sleep reasserted.

  Another noise made Sarah pause. Ears straining and with anxiety still fresh from her recurring nightmare, she stood stock still, waiting, listening.

  Nothing could be heard.

  ‘Jason, wake up!’ Sarah dug her boot into his ribs.

  ‘What?’ He opened his bleary eyes.

  ‘Trish has gone. Get up, we need to find her.’

  ‘Gone?’ He sat up and switched on his own helmet. ‘Gone where?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She walked away and turned on the Centipede, its motor whirring into life. Turning back round she let out a yelp. Trish stood a few feet away, looking at her.

  ‘Fuck! Where have you been?’

  Trish frowned. ‘I heard a noise and went to take a look.’

  ‘How many times have I told you not to go anywhere alone?’

  ‘That’s rich coming from you, a person who dives into danger quicker than you can say dead.’

  ‘I’ve had extensive training, Deep Reach, SED training, you haven’t.’

  ‘Well, I’m back and I’m safe, no training necessary.’ Trish walked past her and opened an enclosure on the supply vehicle. Removing a flask, she took a swig of water while at the same time avoiding Sarah’s glare.

  ‘Look, can we just stop?’ Sarah said.

  ‘Stop what?’

  ‘This.’

  Trish made a face of indifference.

  ‘This place screws with your mind,’ Sarah said, ‘it’s tearing us apart. You’ve been caving before; you know what its like.’

  ‘It was a grade two, for one day, so no, I don’t know what it’s like.’

  ‘Dehydration, paranoia, disorientation,’ Sarah said. ‘If it wasn’t for these helmets and the Centipede—’

  ‘Bob,’ Jason mumbled.

  ‘—we’d be hallucinating, sleeping for twelve hours straight and God knows what else.’ Sarah looked to Jason, who’d also decided to take on some water.

  ‘She’s right,’ he said, ‘these places can really mess you up. It’s the lack of light and fresh air. The constant silence, too. We’ve been down here over a week. Even I’m feeling it.’

  Trish humphed and Sarah took that to be a sign of weakening resolve. ‘Truce?’ She held out a hand.

  Trish hesitated and then accepted the offering.

  Sarah searched her friend’s face for the hint of a smile, for anything that signalled a warming of relations, but nothing was forthcoming. It was a start, though.

  Jason handed a small energy bar to Trish. ‘So, what noise?’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘You said you heard a noise,’ he said. ‘What noise?’

  Trish gestured ahead. ‘I’m not sure, something. Sounded weird, like—’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  Sarah refrained from commenting in order to preserve the new found peace. ‘Whatever it was we need to get moving again. According to my helmet we’ve stayed for too long, we were asleep for six hours.’

  Jason swore and Trish looked shocked. ‘Are you sure? I set my alarm.’

  Sarah nodded. ‘Me, too. I must have just switched it off and gone back to sleep. I’ll turn up the loudness; we can’t afford to lose more hours like that again.’

  ‘So, which way now?’ Jason asked her.

  ‘There’s only one way; forward. We don’t have the supplies to get back to the shuttle station and even if we did—’

  ‘When they found us they’d lock us all up and throw away the key,’ Trish said, finishing her sentence.

  Jason collected the Centipede’s control unit and slipped on the strap. ‘How far to the next waypoint beacon?’

  Sarah removed an energy gel
from her backpack, swallowed it down and then consulted the map on her visor. A detailed schematic of the route to the Anakim temple appeared, along with information on the various hazards between them and it. ‘About three quarters of a mile,’ she said.

  Jason’s expression brightened. ‘Nice.’

  ‘Straight down.’

  His smile faded.

  ‘Welcome to Sanctuary,’ Trish said.

  Sarah, buoyed by her partial reconciliation with Trish, slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Come on, doofus, the sooner we start the sooner we’ll finish.’

  ‘Doofus?’ he said, peeved.

  Trish snorted. ‘Sounds about right to me.’

  Sarah walked away with a small smile on her face while her eyes scanned the path ahead with care. Trish followed and, bringing up the rear, came Jason; the all-terrain vehicle, aka Bob, trundling along by his side.

  ♦

  A noise echoed down the cave from behind and Jason slowed the Centipede to a halt. Looking back, he searched the pitch-black by filtering through the different visual spectrums provided by his visor’s operating system. He zoomed in on an area in the distance. Nothing stirred. Get a grip, Jas, he told himself, you’ll be seeing little green men next. With a shake of the head he switched Bob back into forward motion with a flick of the joystick and followed his friends into the never-ending darkness of Sanctuary.