Ancient Origins: Books 4 - 6 (Ancient Origins Boxset Book 2)

by Robert Storey

‘This way, please,’ Dagmar said, and he walked forward to stand on a section of the floor segregated from the rest by a single, circular channel.

  When everyone was inside the circle Dagmar pressed a button on his collar. ‘We’re ready.’

  A white light appeared above and a glass cylinder rose up out of the floor as an identical one slid down from above to meet it.

  Dagmar removed a breathing mask from the pocket of his lab coat and placed it over his nose and mouth. ‘You may feel a slight pressure in your ears,’ he said to Selene, ‘don’t worry it’s just part of the decontamination process.’ He gestured to the armed assassins. ‘Tell them once they’re inside not to remove their helmets or they’ll compromise the air.’

  Selene turned to one of the armoured figures. ‘Did you hear that?’

  The man behind the mirrored visor gave a slow nod of his head.

  A loud buzzer sounded and Dagmar said to the Committee members, ‘You may want to hold your breath!’

  A moment later a whoosh of mist engulfed the cylinder and the people within. Three seconds after that, the vapour turned a faint shade of yellow before the metallic clunk of a heavy mechanism sent the concrete pad on which they stood gliding up through the giant transparent tube and through an opening in the ceiling above.

  The concrete platform came to a stop with a pneumatic hiss and five clamps snapped down to secure it in place. The yellow haze dissipated and Dagmar stepped down a set of steps and into a hive of activity.

  ♦

  Selene Dubois and her associates followed the R&D director into a vast underground atrium one hundred feet wide and thrice that in length. Technicians, doctors, scientists and military personnel bustled throughout the large expanse, which acted as an oversize laboratory full of medical apparatus, operating tables, a strange array of robotic equipment, and a host of workstations similar to those found in Sanctuary’s Exploration Division, the legendary SED.

  Towering glass windows lined both sides of the expanse, behind which multiple floors separated residential areas from offices and more high-tech labs. While those working in the atrium’s centre remained focused on their finely tuned equipment, skilled labourers toiled on the levels above, sending showers of sparks cascading to the floor as they welded in new sections of an overhead crane.

  ‘All the staff you see,’ Dagmar said, raising his voice over the clamour, ‘live and work in this compound and are totally independent from the rest of the complex and the base beyond.’ He paused to cough into his handkerchief. ‘No one comes in and no one goes out without my express permission.’

  ‘How long are they here for?’ Selene said.

  ‘As long as it takes.’ Dagmar skirted round a vat of foul-smelling liquid and headed towards a quieter section of the compound.

  The noise behind died away and the group entered a long, silent corridor that echoed to the sounds of their footsteps. At the end, two armed sentries stood aside to allow them through a large reinforced metal hatch and they emerged into a structure similar to the giant cell that housed the Pharos. However, rather than having a spartan interior, this prison had been partitioned into five sections by thick, semi-transparent curtains that hung from the ceiling above. Around the tops of the walls, more scientists worked at a host of holographic workstations that ringed the entire perimeter.

  Dagmar paused before the first curtain. ‘Your bodyguards will have to stay here, unless they plan on living out the rest of their days in Sanctuary.’

  Selene gestured to the assassins’ leader, who halted his team’s advance.

  Reduced to a party of four, Dagmar and the three Committee members pushed past the first curtain.

  On either side, shrouded by the plastic sheets, the indistinct forms of lab technicians worked in silence around large pieces of similarly obscure apparatus.

  Dagmar moved aside the final partition and motioned to three scientists to vacate the area. Left alone with the R&D director, Selene and her two associates assembled on a platform to gaze up at what they’d journeyed to see.

  A minute of reverential silence followed before Selene said, ‘How long until you begin?’

  ‘As soon as they arrive.’

  ‘Ophion has been despatched to ensure safe passage,’ she said. ‘They will be here within the hour.’

  ‘What about the … complication?’ said one of the other Committee members. ‘Will it not cause a delay?’

  Dagmar shook his head. ‘The surgery will be swift.’

  ‘Will it cause permanent damage?’ Selene said, concerned. ‘There is much we need to know.’

  ‘It will be invasive, but we will try to ensure there is no lasting impairment, at least in terms of cognitive ability.’ Dagmar wiped spittle from the corner of his mouth. ‘The timing, though,’ he said, ‘it couldn’t have been any better; the chance of success has increased dramatically.’

  ‘The timing is the chime of destiny,’ Selene said, returning her attention to the focus of their fascination. ‘Powerful forces are at work and thousands of years of disconnected events have transpired to bring us to this point. A new age of humanity has begun and we will shape its future for millennia to come. The work you do today, Director, will echo an eternity.’

  She reached out to run her fingers over a dark, coral-like surface, while her gaze remained fixed on the rest of the monolithic structure that soared above their heads.

  Retrieved from deep within Sanctuary Proper’s forgotten reaches, the primordial edifice glinted and glistened beneath powerful lighting rigs and those that laid eyes on it knew they were looking at something conceived beyond the machinations of man. A mass of state-of-the-art monitoring equipment surrounded the fifty foot high monument, which had five vertical sides to form a pentagonal prism twenty feet in width. Attached to this wealth of technological hardware, thick black cables sprouted like many lifeless snakes to wend their way to the artefact’s rocky substrate, where they terminated. But it was the forward-facing and singularly unique frontage of the ancient architecture that captivated the eye. Some ten feet wide and thirty high, a single, rectangular void had been fashioned deep into the relic’s core. And recessed into the front edge of this depression, framed by a corroded metal surround, was a glass-like panel that held back a pale, viscous liquid which swirled in slow, lazy eddies as it merged with darker fluids disturbed from within. At the base of the aperture a ceramic panel had been installed by Anakim hands eons past, and sunk into its centre were three perfectly formed circles.

  Dagmar entered a command into a nearby computer and the platform on which they stood rose up into the air to bring them level with the artefact’s centre. Another command activated a mechanism high above and a large, black panel dropped down to cover the monolith’s transparent case and the fluid within.

  ‘Our new ally has proven his worth,’ Dagmar said, savouring his success, ‘and to relinquish something he craved confirms his allegiance is – for now – beyond doubt.’

  ‘Malcolm Joiner has done well.’ Selene glanced at him. ‘The imminent arrival of the elusive Ms. Morgan and the pendant will be the final piece in our puzzle.’

  ‘Are you ready to see the fruits of our labour?’ Dagmar said.

  Selene nodded and the R&D director flicked a switch, causing the black panel to shimmer. A wave of electricity swept over its surface and the onlookers were bathed in a flickering glow.

  Where the relic’s interior had been shielded from view, the bespoke scanner, designed to penetrate the dense liquid within, laid bare its secrets. Immersed in what now looked like clear, sparkling water, not one, but three forms hung suspended around a central core. Each one of the figures, mouths agape and naked as the day they were born, remained devoid of movement, except for their eyes which occasionally moved as if asleep. And what a sleep it had been; for hundreds of thousands of years these citizens from another age had remained in a state of eternal hibernation, waiting for someone, or something, to wake them from an endless dream. And that wait had
– finally – come to an end.

  Selene stepped closer to the flickering image. ‘It is time,’ she said, mesmerised by the vision of the three Anakim giants, ‘to awaken … the gods.’

  Epilogue

  The laughing calls of boisterous howler monkeys echoed out through the lush jungle of the Amazonian rainforest, while the midday sun beat down with a ferocious heat. Close by, hosts of exotic birds roosted in the lofty vaults of towering trees, their many squawks and whistles mixing with the sound of the millions of creeping, crawling, buzzing insects that scuttled and flew through the dense undergrowth.

  Immersed in the midst of this scene of natural wonder, hundreds of miles from civilisation and deep within the forest’s heart, strange shapes lurked hidden beneath the verdant greens of resurgent foliage. Lost cities and forgotten civilisations, buried by time and with links to a past far older than many would believe, lay waiting to be discovered by those that sought to reclaim it. But where there was the old there was also the new, and while the dead were gone, the living continued to fight for survival in an uncertain world.

  Next to a small tributary of the mighty Amazon River, some distance from the ancient realms, a small group of huts had been built by human endeavour. Within this tiny compound, a plume of smoke drifted up into the stifling, humid sky and the smell of roasting meat wafted upstream on a subtle breeze. Drawn in by this succulent aroma, wild animals sniffed the air and prowled closer to see what they could see. But amongst these creatures large and small, another animal, a super-predator, stalked its prey.

  A branch cracked and the top of a small tree shuddered, sending a flock of birds flying screeching into the skies. Monkeys chattered in warning and a big cat growled, and yet it was an indigenous infant that stood in danger’s way. Sitting on its own, the young child played at the edge of a clearing, its parents momentarily distracted elsewhere. Another twig snapped, the bushes rustled and a dark shadow blocked out the sun. The child gazed up into a pair of glowing green eyes. An armoured hand grasped the limb of a tree and the figure swayed on its feet before moving from the forest and out into the open.

  The man reached up and removed his helmet to reveal the back of a close-shaven head glistening with sweat. Staggering forward, the interloper managed ten more steps across dusty soil before dropping to his knees. The helmet fell from lifeless fingers and a moment later he keeled over with an audible crash that brought the natives running. The leader of the tribe approached and prodded the lifeless form with a stick before rolling the body over to reveal the face of a foreigner. More people gathered round to observe the oddity and a woman crouched down and touched the metallic suit with a tentative hand. She looked up at her husband and pointed at a symbol on the man’s armour before holding up a circle of wood with a hole in the middle that hung round her neck. ‘It is a sign,’ she said in her native tongue.

  The chieftain considered the man’s shallow breath before making a decision. ‘Then we shall help him.’ He bent down and picked up the discarded helmet and ran his fingers over the strange design before gazing back down at the symbol that had saved the man’s life:

  He didn’t know what the images meant, but whatever they were they had not served its owner well. He dropped the helmet to the ground and helped his kin drag the man into shade.

  The child who’d first encountered the intruder picked up the forgotten headwear while his parents attended to the demon’s health. He ran his fingers over black markings and wondered, like his father, what they could mean. But if he’d had the relevant schooling, he would have known they were sets of letters that spelt out two, simple identifying words:

  Colonel Samson

  The boy placed the helmet over his head and a dazzling blaze of light lit up the interior. Amazed and scared in equal measure, he stood transfixed as an image appeared on the visor, an image of the man to whom the headwear belonged.

  The image fuzzed and crackled. ‘My name’s Colonel Samson, U.S. military Special Forces.’ He glanced up at the sky as beads of sweat trickled down his face. ‘I have been lost in this wilderness for two months and a day. My navigation systems are down. My sense of direction—’ He gave a shake of his head, his eyes haunted with fever. ‘If anyone sees this, find my daughter, find Brett Taylor. Tell her – tell her there’s no time left, the world as we know it is at an end.’ He dragged the camera closer until only his maddened eyes filled the screen. ‘Listen – listen to me now; this is what I know …’

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Cloud Forest Biological Reserve

  Monteverde, Costa Rica

  A lone car, splattered with mud, bumped and rolled across a sun-dappled dirt track road before coming to a stop outside a dilapidated cabin surrounded by trees. The driver’s door creaked open and banged shut an instant later.

  Jason stretched his legs, arched his back and gave a groan of relief. ‘Next time we need to go to town, I’m staying here.’

  Trish grunted something in response and collected a bag from the back seat before clambering out and hooking the door shut with her foot. She walked up the porch steps and stopped in the doorway. ‘Jason,’ she said, ‘come here, something’s wrong.’

  Dropping the bag, Trish ran inside with Jason following close behind.

  The scene inside the cabin was one of disarray. Upended furniture, cushions torn apart and floorboards prised up.

  ‘Sarah!’ Trish ran to the kitchen. ‘Sarah!’

  Jason sprinted upstairs and burst into Sarah’s bedroom, which had been similarly trashed. He rushed back out to search the other rooms.

  After more frantic moments, Trish came to a halt on the landing and stared at Jason in despair. ‘Oh my God, where is she?’

  Jason shook his head. ‘They took the parchments and Mayan tablet, too. They knew what they were looking for.’

  ‘Do you think …?’

  ‘It must be,’ he said, ‘they must have found us somehow.’

  Trish wiped a tear from her eye, her face stunned by shock and Jason walked over and hugged her to him.

  ‘What do we do?’ she said.

  He kissed the top of her head and stared out of a window at the forest beyond. ‘We’ll find her. Even if we have to break back into Sanctuary itself, we’ll find her.’

  ♦

  ‘All the locals agree, they had helicopters,’ Trish said, ‘and they heard voices, American accents. Some even saw the men that took her, they wore black tactical gear and others the grey armour used by the GMRC.’

  Jason righted the kitchen table and spread a map across its surface. ‘Did they see what direction they headed?’

  ‘North.’

  ‘Then that confirms it. If the GMRC are involved, they’ve taken her back to Sanctuary. We have to go back.’

  ‘But we just sold our Deep Reach helmets.’

  Jason jabbed his finger at the town they’d just visited. ‘Then that’s where we start.’

  ‘But how will we get back into the base when we get there? We don’t have the pendant and there’s no way we can breach their security.’

  Jason stuffed more supplies into a holdall and zipped it closed. ‘We’ll find a way, or find someone that can.’ He shouldered the bag and walked back into the living room where the TV fuzzed and flickered behind cracked glass as it searched for a signal. ‘Have you got everything?’

  Trish nodded and Jason’s face hardened into determination. ‘Then let’s go.’

  The two explorers left the cabin and returned to the car. With their supplies loaded, and direction set, Jason revved the engine and reversed round before slamming the gear stick in first and flooring the accelerator. Wheels spun, dirt and stones sprayed out, and they surged forwards back the way they’d come, the car slipping and sliding as it struggled to gain traction as they sped towards civilisation and the mission to come.

  ♦

  An hour out from the cabin and they tore along the gravel road at breakneck speed.

  ‘Which way?’ Trish said, looking at the
map.

  Jason recognised the T-junction ahead. ‘It’s left.’ He dropped gears from fourth to second and slid the car round the corner.

  Trish screamed. ‘Watch out!’

  An oncoming four-by-four swerved off the road and the fleeting glimpse of its passengers’ shocked faces vanished behind as Jason regained control.

  Trish glanced back as the other vehicle rejoined the narrow highway. ‘Was that a police car?’

  ‘I hope not; are they turning round?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not yet they haven’t. You need to slow down; we’re no good to Sarah dead.’

  ‘Or in prison.’ Jason dipped the clutch, slammed it into third and accelerated. ‘If that was the police, let’s not give them the chance to catch up.’

  The engine roared and the car barrelled on through the forest and, if she could have seen, Sarah would have known … her friends were on their way.

  ♦

  Two hours later, back at the abandoned cabin, night had fallen and a foreign wind rustled through the cloud forest’s trees. The front door creaked open and banged shut in the breeze before repeating the process again and then again, in unending percussion. A vehicle crept along the nearby road, its fat, off-road tyres cracking and popping the gravel underneath. Main beams streamed bright and the shadows swung round as the four-by-four parked up to highlight the surrounding area in a blaze of headlights. The gasoline engine stuttered to silence and the illumination dimmed. Suspension creaked and car doors slammed as four people emerged into the dark of night.

  Footsteps thumped up wooden steps and into the cabin, where the TV continued to flicker in the living area with an ethereal glow. Broken glass crunched underfoot and someone switched on the light.