With the frieze illuminated, Goodwin felt a tingle of excitement. To think, they were the first people to behold this fabulous creation for millennia, and more than likely the first humans ever to do so. He wondered how much an archaeologist would pay to be in his shoes right now. Not much, he thought, considering the precarious nature of our existence.
Taking in the scene, his heart dropped. While the figures of the Anakim crafted into the granite were amazing, they revealed no further insight into their surroundings or bore any relevance to the spiral map of the city’s interior, which was positioned in the relief’s far corner. Goodwin felt another headache coming on; all their work had been for nothing.
‘We might as well carry on,’ he said, making his way down, ‘there’s still more to uncover.’
Rebecca remained where she was, muttering to herself and staring with intensity at the scene below. ‘Do you read the scriptures, Richard?’
He hesitated. ‘You mean the Bible?’
‘Yes.’
‘No, not since I was a child.’
She continued to gaze at the Anakim frieze, and when she failed to say anything else he returned to her side.
‘What is it?’ he said. ‘Have you seen something?’
‘I’m not sure.’ She pointed to shapes of the Anakim at the bottom of the scene, their faces not quite human.
Goodwin followed the direction of her finger and saw the naked forms of ancient men and women reaching up, their faces contorted in fear and wonder.
Her finger rose to larger figures above, their denuded forms carved in lewd, explicit detail, mouths agape in expressions of bestial lust and horror. Thick chains bound these fearsome visions of antiquity to a platform made up of the dead.
‘It’s a bit gruesome,’ Goodwin said, ‘but then it doesn’t seem too different from anything we humans call art.’
‘That’s the point. It’s not that different.’ She paused as if recalling something. ‘And the angels who did not stay within their own position of authority, but left their proper dwelling, he has kept in eternal chains under gloomy darkness until the judgement of the great day—’
‘What’s that?’
‘Jude 1:6. You said Homo gigan … how do you say it?’
‘Homo giganthropsis, according to Corporal Walker, anyway.’
‘The man from Sanctuary’s USSB?’
‘Yes, part of the U.S. Army decontamination team. He said that’s the scientific name for them.’
‘Did he say who called them the Anakim?’
Goodwin thought for a moment. ‘No, and neither did the Professor in his message. Why?’
She frowned. ‘There’s two more passages I remember—’
‘Go on,’ he said, when she didn’t continue.
‘Genesis 6:4. The Nephilim were on the earth in those days, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of man and they bore children to them. These were the mighty men who were of old, the men of renown.’
‘And the second?’
‘Deuteronomy 1:28. The people are greater and taller than we. The cities are great and fortified up to heaven. And besides, we have seen the sons of the Anakim there.’
Goodwin didn’t know what to say, but the words stirred him. He ran his eyes over the sculpture below. ‘You think the beings at the top are the Nephilim?’
She looked around her. ‘This is a city fortified up to heaven, man never created towers as high as these. And the Anakim lived here. Also, the figures at the top are chained, and if this isn’t gloomy darkness I don’t know what is.’
Goodwin could see where she was coming from, but it was a stretch of the imagination by anyone’s book – including God’s.
‘Although,’ she said, seeing his scepticism, ‘it’s not like the world is ending; this isn’t the great day of judgement.’ She sighed. ‘I just got carried away, what with the meteorite on the surface, it’s a little like the end of days, don’t you think?’
‘What was the first one you said again?’
She took a breath. ‘And the angels who did not stay within their own position of authority, but left their proper dwelling, he has kept in eternal chains under gloomy darkness until the judgement of the great day—’
Rebecca’s words echoed in his mind, it’s not like the world is ending. That was the problem, the world was ending, the surface world anyway. Soon only ash and darkness would remain, fire and brimstone. Unless, of course, the GMRC’s Space Programme accomplished what it had failed to do so far – avert the approaching asteroids. He ran his eyes over the frieze, its representation taking on a whole new light, the message a sinister prophetic warning from the past and the ancients that crafted it.
‘It’s funny, though,’ she continued, ‘it looks like a symbol runs through the whole image.’
‘I don’t see anything.’
She drew him closer and he glanced at her face so near to his before following her finger as she traced the path of metallic lines hidden beneath the sculptures.
He squinted, concentrating, before he realised what it was. ‘A pentagram.’
‘That’s weird, isn’t it?’
‘Is it?’
‘You don’t know, do you?’
‘Apparently not.’
‘It used to be used as the symbol for Christ the Saviour,’ she said, ‘the five wounds of Christ, although it’s now looked upon as pagan or satanic by pretty much all Christian churches.’
‘How do you know all this?’
‘I go to church; plus, I’m a live-in carer, I watch a lot of television. Didn’t you have the Discovery channel in your USSB Steadfast?’
Goodwin thought he might smile, but instead he just shook his head, his thoughts returning to the biblical verses. ‘So you think they could have predicted AG5 impacting Earth?’
Rebecca made a face. ‘Why not? You said the Anakim civilisation went on for hundreds of thousands of years, didn’t you?’
‘According to Corporal Walker – yes. He says they’ve got a museum in the base dedicated to the Anakim and Sanctuary itself.’
‘And they were more advanced than us.’
‘Supposedly.’
‘Why supposedly? They built this place, didn’t they?’
Goodwin looked up at the enormous tower next to them, its dark bulk disappearing into the pitch black. ‘Yes, but they still died out.’
‘True, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t possess knowledge. The Mayans had a prophecy for the end of the world, didn’t they? So why not the Anakim?’
‘Well, for one the world didn’t end in 2012, so the prophecy didn’t work, and for two, wasn’t it all a misnomer anyway? The Mayans predicted a new age rather than the end of the world.’
Rebecca shrugged. ‘I suppose, although the Anakim were far more advanced than the Mayans.’
‘Exactly, so if they were so powerful they’d just blow the asteroid out of the sky.’
‘Like we did, you mean?’
Goodwin gave a wry smile. ‘We tried, didn’t we? All those missions by NASA and the GMRC … but they just kept falling short of diverting it, and the rockets they fired didn’t even dent it.’
‘Perhaps they didn’t have any space technology at all,’ Rebecca said, ‘or they wanted the asteroid to destroy the surface when it arrived and that’s why they built this underground world.’
Goodwin could see she had a point. The GMRC Subterranean Programme could just be a much later version than one devised by the Anakim before them. He shook his head. ‘No, why would anyone want to destroy the surface? It would make no sense.’
‘It would if you lived underground.’
Goodwin pondered the answer. It was a good one, but also moot. They could never hope to understand their long dead cousins anymore than they could the minds of the dinosaurs before them. He also had more important things to think about, like how to get everyone out of this godforsaken place. They couldn’t rely on Hilt finding a way to the USSB, or – as much as he hated to think it
– of returning at all. It was up to him to find a solution. He needed to act, not to procrastinate. Taking some video footage of the frieze, their conversation over, Goodwin and Rebecca returned to the ground and the task of trying to discover a glimmer of hope amongst the ruins of the past.
Chapter Forty
Another two days drifted by and the excavation of the giant granite sculpture revealed no further insight into the layout of the chamber, the underground city loath to release Steadfast’s refugees from its mighty grasp. It seemed the only way out had been the way they’d entered over half a year before. If only the earthquake hadn’t triggered a collapse to the cave system, Goodwin thought, we’d all be safely tucked up inside the USSB. He thrust such pitiful thoughts from his mind, his brain forever tricking him into reliving the same mistakes, the same tragedies, over and over in a game of mental self-flagellation.
And yet despite his best efforts to free himself from these negative processes, they persisted, and Goodwin’s enthusiasm for the frieze waned; and it wasn’t long before he, Rebecca and Joseph, accompanied by Lieutenant Manaus and her one hundred Darklight soldiers, made their way back through the city.
After they’d passed the final tower, a faint halo of light could be seen in the distance, the glow hovering in the black like the lights of an alien craft.
On their way in a fifty strong Darklight patrol hailed them in greeting, the reacquainted men and women of the multicultural security firm exchanging pleasantries and banter in a state of camaraderie. Goodwin felt his spirits lift a little as they entered the campsite; the unease of being away from a large body of people had been eating away at him without him realising. This feeling, he knew, also had a lot to do with safety in numbers. Despite having a large, well-trained and well-armed entourage for company, the city had still felt sinister in its isolation.
As they walked towards the central command post, a group of civilians rushed past and Lieutenant Manaus collared one of them as they ran by. ‘What’s going on?’
The man looked distraught. ‘Two rafts didn’t return from the lake, twenty people are missing.’ He shrugged off her grasp. ‘I have to go, we’re assembling search parties!’
Manaus swore. ‘Sorry, sir, we’ll have to leave you here.’
Goodwin nodded.
‘Recon Alpha, with me!’
The officer ran off, followed by her troops, leaving Goodwin, Rebecca and Joseph on their own.
‘So much for the relaxation of camp,’ Goodwin said, as another mass of people ran by ahead of them.
Rebecca drew Joseph to her. ‘Should we go and help, too?’
Goodwin shook his head. ‘No, you get back to your tent. I’ll go and see what’s happening.’
Joseph gave him a hug in parting and Rebecca followed suit. ‘Thanks for letting us go with you into the city. If you need any help with anything just let me know, I’ll,’ – she glanced at Joseph – ‘we’ll, be happy to help.’
Joseph grinned at him.
‘I may take you up on that.’ Goodwin waved them goodbye and a short walk later found himself entering the Darklight command post.
‘Well, how am I supposed to know?!’ Kara glanced at Goodwin as he entered, a communication device held to one ear. She turned away and paused before shouting. ‘Just do it!’
Throwing the earpiece onto the desk in front of her, she moved to have a heated discussion with two other civilians who then rushed out of the tent to carry out their respective orders.
‘Problems?’ Goodwin said.
Kara snorted. ‘Like you care.’
‘They say we’re missing two rafts.’
Kara ignored him and brushed past to collect some maps of the shoreline.
Major Offiah arrived. ‘Sir,’ he said, acknowledging Goodwin, his tone curt.
‘Any survivors?’ Kara asked the officer.
Offiah shook his head. ‘We’ve pulled three bodies from the water on the south east quadrant. We’re getting reports of a lot of activity near the surface.’
‘Which means?’
‘The predators are feeding,’ Goodwin said.
Kara kept her eyes on the major.
‘The director’s correct,’ Offiah said. ‘If they smelled blood a feeding frenzy would be the likely outcome. We may not find the other crew members.’
‘At least not alive,’ Goodwin said.
Kara’s eyes blazed. ‘What! What is wrong with you, Richard?! People are dying and all you can do is make useless comments! Is there anyone left in there capable of feeling anything?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ He looked to Offiah, whose angry expression provided no answers. ‘I’ve been in the city trying to get us out of this place, what more can I do?’
‘You can help me run this camp, that’s what you could be doing, instead of running around looking for nonexistent maps!’
‘You haven’t heard? We found a map. Did the major not tell you?’
‘Oh, he told me. He also told me it was next to useless. You better get a grip, people are beginning to question whether you should remain in charge.’
‘Are you one of them?’
Kara drew a breath, seeking calm. ‘Not yet, but if you don’t drop this crazy crusade …’
Goodwin put down his rucksack. ‘I’m trying my best, but all this,’ he gestured around him, ‘is pointless if we can’t find the subterranean base.’
‘And the USSB is pointless if there’s no one left to find it.’ Kara held his gaze until the buzz of an incoming radio message drew her back to the desk.
Goodwin knew she needed him, but he had to take a stand. Not against her, but for her – for everyone. When I find a way out, he thought, they’ll see I was right. He picked up his bag and left them to it, but his departure didn’t go unnoticed, a look of fury on Kara’s face switching to one of deep concern as she exchanged a meaningful look with Major Offiah.
♦
It had been a few hours since Goodwin had left the command post and he’d returned to the white tent he and Kara called home. A dim light cast deep shadows as he sat cross-legged on the rickety, lightweight portable bed that dominated the sparse interior, the single piece of furniture one of many brought with them inside the five thousand strong Darklight contingent’s ample backpacks.
Spread out before him on the thin sleeping bag lay the printouts of the photos he’d taken of the frieze, and the numerous inscriptions and carvings he’d discovered on the ground around the city’s eastern quarter. As with everything else in their camp, such things as printers were scarce and the ink and paper to go with them scarcer still. However, being the director had its privileges and he’d been able to convince one of the civilians to let him utilise their precious kit. Now with time to spare, he’d been able to study the images in detail and he jotted down notes on anything he found that might aid them in their plight. So far such writings had been unrelated observations, and yet he felt some had merit.
A large photo of the frieze had proven the most useful. From what Goodwin could see the pentagram in its centre, while missing a couple of its points, was the structure upon which the sculpture had been based. Everything seemed to revolve around it. The passages Rebecca had quoted from the Bible also weaved their magic around his mind like the murmurings of messages through time. Did the Anakim have links to human culture? Did the creatures depicted portray the fallen angels of God, the Nephilim? And if they did, how did that help him?
His eyes strayed to a separate photo of the spiral map of the city’s centre. It covered a massive area and each spiral arm encompassed some of the largest towers, its middle dominated by the massive structure that continued to amaze with its purple light show. He’d been told, however, the unusual phenomenon was winding down. Each time the energy flowed up its great bulk to discharge into the sparkling ceiling of the chamber beyond, its duration diminished. When they’d first witnessed it, the event had lasted for nearly twenty minutes. Since that time it had reduced to only a few, its decline
estimated to reach non-existence within the week.
He wondered for the hundredth time if they were missing anything. Should they be doing something to use this resource?
Goodwin’s frustration mounted and more time passed as he struggled to pluck meaning from obscurity before Kara appeared, pushing aside the tent flap to enter.
She looked down at the images on the bed. ‘Wasting more resources, I see.’
Goodwin hastily swept the photos aside as she sat down. ‘I’m not wasting anything. There’s something here, I know it.’
Kara eyed him, her expression unfathomable, and Goodwin reached out a hand. ‘Please,’ – he touched her arm – ‘will you take a look for me?’
She gave a weary shake of her head and picked up some photos. ‘Do you want to know about the search?’ she said, flicking through the images.
Not really, he thought. ‘Have they found anyone else?’
‘Two more bodies washed up. They’re still looking for the others.’
‘It’s not looking good, then.’
‘They tell me if the fish haven’t finished them off, the cold water will have done.’
Goodwin sought the words to say, but feeling sympathy when depressed was like trying to grab an eel in oil. Instead he pointed to the corner of one of the photos. ‘Those symbols keep appearing all over the city.’
Kara paused and gazed at the carved lines he’d indicated:
She handed them back to him. ‘They’re meaningless.’
Goodwin went back to his analysis and rearranged his media while Kara undressed for bed. Putting a foot into the sleeping bag, she stopped to look over his shoulder at the images of the symbol and spiral map he now held. Goodwin saw her brow furrow.
He moved the photos closer to her. ‘You see something, don’t you?’
She squirmed under the cover. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘Tell me.’
‘I told you, it’s nothing.’
She tried to roll away from him, but he held onto her shoulder. ‘Kara, if you’ve seen something it could be important. Just because you’re angry with me, don’t punish everyone else.’
2041 Sanctuary (Let There Be Light) Page 27
