The night air was warm, but the breeze cooled the city as it darted through open windows, bringing smells of cooking and sounds of families to anyone that cared to listen. It had been a day as any other in Bolton, where friends greeted each other, shop-keepers laughed with customers, and men and woman fell in love and built lives together. Children had played in the streets like every other day, giggling and running, making some adults smile at their play and others shout and shake a fist at their antics.
On a small side street, along the proposed route for the underground train that would make travel within the city quicker and easier, the hammers, pickaxes, and chisels rang from inside a hole. Echoes bounced off the stone and wood buildings that held shops and homes, lulling the citizens to sleep. The rhythmic tinks and clanks created a discordant and tinny melody that ground on Professor Walter’s nerves. He was a man of science and study, and didn’t like the thick night air and fog that had settled around the roped off area which was the entrance to the curious artifact below. The Professor had seen the headlines in the paper a week ago, ‘Alien Archway Arrests Advancement, Archeologists Atwitter’, and contacted his colleague, Duke Crillington, that day.
The two men had known each other for years and had been as close as any two men could be without a blood relation. The Duke often invited Titalus over for dinner engagements, or called upon the man for his insight into history, social interactions, or any variety of topics. And the Professor often called upon his boyhood friend to share financial opportunities, scientific discoveries, or just a fine wine and cigars.
After the stone doorway with the foreign runes and hieroglyphs had been found in the tunnels that were being dug for the new underground train, the Duke had bought the whole city block for this project upon the Professor’s recommendation. Within a week the tunnel dig site had become an archeological dig site. The media and other curious onlookers were kept away by hired thugs, and soon people got bored and stopped asking questions. Tonight would change all that though.
A dull boom sounded and the surrounding buildings shook. Titalus Walters could hear pebbles raining down into the hole in an uneven tattoo. A low hiss of escaping air could be heard in the pit, followed by the screams of the workers below. The foreman stumbled to the surface, his face coated with an odd green jelly which ate away at his flesh. The man clawed at his eyes while babbling about the talons of beasts rising from hell. The professor backed away from the area, and then turned and fled.
Aetheric Elements: The Rise of a Steampunk Reality Page 48
