The Secret of Atlantis (Citadel World Book #2)

by Kir Lukovkin

  “Come over here. Don't be afraid, the dead don't bite,” Rick called him.

  Paul finally got himself together and walked up to the gates.

  “If we managed to get in here, then we will be able to get out,” Rick declared. “Come on, remember what you touched. These gates are very similar and they might open in exactly the same way.”

  After walking along the gates and touching the metal surfaces, Paul shook his head.

  “I don't know. I just leaned on it with my shoulder, like this,” he repeated what he did the previous time in approximately the same place. “And that was it. See, nothing is happening.”

  Suddenly, a loud hissing sound came from the ceiling. They felt a gust of cold air and then a foamy liquid with a sharp chemical smell poured upon their heads.

  They both cried out in surprise. Rick nearly dropped the lighter, which had just gone out. The liquid kept pouring down from somewhere on the ceiling in intense streams. Then, it suddenly stopped. There was another hissing sound and a gust of wind, but now the air was hot. Violet lines lit up on the walls and hurt their eyes. Rick and Paul shut their eyes, and when everything was quiet and they opened them again the gates slid apart with a clang, letting them into a tunnel that was as tall and wide as several men.

  “The automatic systems kicked in,” Rick explained. “The ancient machines switch on stage by stage according to their programming, which means the order in which their actions are performed. They let us into the airlock, then they washed us, covered us in some sort of solution that probably kills infections and now they are offering us to keep going. So what are you waiting for? Let's go.”

  Rick stepped into the tunnel and stopped, examining the slabs that covered the floor. Lamps flickered bleakly overhead, lighting up space to a distance of around twenty paces and another wide, gated opening could be made out ahead. Something made Rick stop. His feeling for danger had reached its very limit and he raised his hand, moving his blaster into firing position.

  “What's wrong,” Paul asked quietly.

  “Wait. I'm thinking.”

  The experiences that he had in Thermopolis suggested that Rick should be on his guard. His journey between the levels and aeons came to his mind, with the various mechanical traps, mutants and the unknown and ever hungry beasts that lived in places of that kind. Without letting go of the blaster, Rick used his free hand to get a hammer out of his bag and threw it on the nearest slab.

  Nothing happened. Then Rick crouched and pressed down on the slab with his hand.

  Again, nothing.

  “You see,” he began, “each of these stone squares features a geometric symbol.”

  “Yeah,” Paul replied. “This one has a triangle. And the one further along has a circle.”

  “I don't like any of this,” Rick grumbled. “It looks like a puzzle.”

  “Why do you think so?”

  “My instincts tell me this.”

  “I don't think so.”

  Before Rick could object, Paul stepped onto the slab with the triangle symbol.

  There were several seconds of deafening silence.

  Paul finally smiled.

  “See? Nothing. I think we can go there,” Paul decided and raised his foot to step on the next slab.

  “No!” Rick exclaimed.

  It worked. In the end, Paul did not step forward and waited, turning to his friend with annoyance. Rick offered the hammer to him. Paul crouched and struck the next slab, which disappeared under the ground in an instant. Rick barely managed to catch his companion by the sleeve in time before inertia carried him into the gaping hole that appeared in the floor.

  “What was on the slab?” he asked, once Paul had got his breath back.

  “A circle. There was a circle there.”

  They started to examine the slabs. Rick found a slab with a triangle nearby and carefully stepped on it. Nothing happened. Then he stepped onto another slab with a triangle ahead. Nothing.

  “I think we have found the key,” Rick declared.

  “Why do you think the Ancients put this trap here?”

  Paul tapped the nearest slab and moved onto it.

  “It's a test. I am sure that anyone that gets here by accident will be afraid and turn back.”

  A minute later they both stood at the end of the tunnel in front of yet another pair of gates, getting their breath back. Rick drank from his flask with long, greedy gulps, wiping away the sweat from his brow. Paul was already curiously examining the gates.

  “I still don't understand,” Paul said as he probed around the gates. “The puzzle was way too simple. Think about how easily we found the solution.”

  “It's a test,” Rick repeated stubbornly and stepped towards the gates. “Protection from idiots. It will probably be more complex further along.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We're about to find out.”

  The dim light of the lamps was barely sufficient, so Rick flicked the lighter again and slowly moved along the gates.

  “Look!” Paul called out happily. “There's a triangle symbol here. Should I press it?”

  “Well, go for it, but be careful.”

  Rick gripped the blaster tighter and stayed in his place. Paul pressed the triangle hard, ready to snap his hand back at any moment.

  Nothing happened. Paul pressed it again and a small triangular segment receded into the gates. Something above made a loud crack, there was a low humming sound and a clang and the gates started to slide apart, sinking into the walls.

  Rick immediately stepped towards the opening, thrusting his weapon in front of him and examining the part of the hall that was ahead of him. The mechanisms inside the walls fell silent.

  “Let's keep going,” Paul suggested tentatively.

  After quickly looking around, Rick nodded. They passed through the gates which immediately slid shut as soon as Paul stepped into the hall. They did it so fast that if they had paused for even a moment, they would have been crushed to a pulp.

  Paul cried out and jumped up, almost about to sprint towards the center of the hall where a matte black steel column stretched out to the ceiling. Rick managed to grab his companion by the sleeve just in time and hold him in place.

  “Calm down. Relax.”

  “B-but why did they c-close?” Paul was shaking violently.

  “Take a deep breath. Here you are, drink some water,” Rick offered him his flask, while standing still and studying the space around him.

  The hall was round and the floor was concave like a saucer. The mysterious pillar was as tall as three men and had red dots flickering on its surface near the top. It felt like it almost became brighter in the hall because of these pulsating lights.

  “How are you?” Rick asked.

  “I seem to be okay.”

  Paul returned the flask to him and stared at the pillar.

  Rick gripped the blaster tight and slowly approached the pillar. Whatever lived here had awoken and it was watching them. The top of the pillar changed to a red color and the pillar itself started to turn upon its axis. Rick froze. A low hum rung out. Suddenly it fell silent, and a pleasant male voice rand out from the ceiling, “One, two, three.”

  The words seemed to appear out of thin air. Rick tried and failed to determine the source of the sound. The voice counted again and then fell silent.

  “And what does this mean?” Paul whispered.

  “They are examining us.”

  “What for?”

  “I have no idea.” Rick waited, as he did not want to risk approaching.

  “Hello,” the stranger said suddenly.

  Paul flinched.

  “Greetings!” Paul replied loudly and clearly. “Whoever you are, we come in peace and we won't cause you harm!”

  “I am an it, not a he. Not a human. However, the paradox is that my main function is to detect Homo sapiens.”

  The friends exchanged glances.

  “What for?” Rick enquired.

&nb
sp; “This place was created for humans,” the voice declared. “It would be logical to suppose that only humans should be able to get inside. Do you agree?”

  “Yes,” Rick answered.

  “Does the second creature possess the power of speech?” the voice asked.

  “I do,” Paul hurriedly replied.

  “Wonderful.”

  “How are you planning to test us?” Rick spoke again.

  “I am already testing you. But you should answer a series of questions before I stop.”

  “Why make it so complicated?” Rick feigned surprise, trying to look as natural as he could. “If you are a machine, that means you can scan us and determine that we are part of the human race by our skeletal structure.”

  “You are completely right,” the voice agreed. “This has already done. Biologically, you are part of the human species.”

  “So why all this talk?” Rick swung the blaster behind his back.

  “A reasonable question. I shall explain: my task is to determine your cognitive ability. It is possible to have a human body while not being a human.”

  “Possession,” Paul muttered.

  “Pardon me, what did you say?”

  “Nothing, I wasn't addressing you,” Paul assured, afraid of unforeseen consequences.

  Rick looked at him with disapproval and said, “All right. Ask your questions, machine.”

  “I shall start. But first, a technical disclaimer.”

  Paul and Rick exchanged glances and then quietly watched the pillar.

  “There are two of you,” the voice continued. “This means that there will be twice as many questions, issued to you separately. Determine the order in which you will answer.”

  “You could have let us in long ago,” Rick grumbled. “I will answer first.”

  “Excellent. Question one. There's a pear hanging there, that to eat you'd never dare. What is it?”

  Rick thought that he had misheard.

  “Are you mocking me?”

  “Should I consider that an answer?”

  “No!” Rick hurried to reply, angry at himself for choosing to go first.

  He rubbed at his chin and glanced around the hall. He breathed out.

  “Now then...” he turned to Paul and shook his head. “By the great Expanse!”

  “Help is forbidden,” the voice warned.

  “I understand,” Rick replied.

  The task of the machine is to understand that sentients had entered the hall, creatures capable of abstract thought. Abstract thought. Mathematics. Logic. The ancient machines were programmed with algorithms of sequential operations.

  “The pear tree is a fruit tree,” Rick deliberated out loud. “I remember what pears look like. If the fruit is not edible, that means it is not a fruit.”

  The machine kept silent. Paul stood still, fraught with tension and holding his breath.

  “How much time do I have to think?”

  “I can wait until the passage of time makes me fall apart or until your biological death. Due to the fact that the probability of the latter event is several times higher, the time you have for deliberation is limited to your lifetime.”

  “In other words, we will be stuck here until we die of hunger or thirst.”

  “Yes.”

  “Must the answer be exact?”

  “Preferably. However, considering your level of education, approximate analogues are permitted.”

  “All right.” A picture from a documentary that was part of his accelerated education course sprung into Rick's mind. “The answer is that it is just a light bulb!”

  A few moments passed when it seemed that the machine had forgotten about the new arrivals.

  Then, the voice uttered, “Correct. Here is the second question. You have entered a room and there are two dogs and three cats lying on the floor, while two chickens are walking around the room and one goat is standing there. How many legs are there in the room?”

  “Two,” Rick replied without hesitation.

  Another pause until the voice spoke again.

  “Correct. Now for the last question. This creature moves around all four legs when you, on two legs when it is mature and three legs when it is old. What is it?”

  “A human.”

  “Explain why.”

  “Explaining my reasoning was not part of the question!” Rick replied with indignation. However, as there was no reaction from the machine, he hurriedly added, “Only a human crawls around on all fours in childhood, then walks around on their own two legs and uses a stick so they do not fall when they get old. Time is an allegory. And this riddle is thousands of years old.”

  If he wanted, Rick could have told the story of the Theban Sphinx, as well as listing the whole pantheon of Ancient Greek gods. All of this knowledge was securely stored in his head. The machine was silent. This time, the pause was extended.

  “Correct answer. You have been determined to be human. The other creature must answer the questions now.”

  “His name is Paul,” Rick told the machine.

  “Nice to meet you, Paul,” the machine replied. “Are you ready?”

  Paul nodded.

  “Three people have been asked to describe one creature. The first man said that it was a tree, the second said that it was a snake and the third called the creature a seashell. None of them were correct. Why did this happen?”

  Paul started to think. A film of perspiration formed on his forehead, the veins bulged on his neck and his eyes were wide open and intense. Then, he suddenly relaxed and stared into space with an unseeing gaze. He took a deep breath and said, “Those people were blind. They were describing an animal that they touched.”

  “Correct. Next question. It crawls in the morning, keeps still at midday and flies in the evening. What is this creature?”

  A weak smile appeared on his face. Paul was deep in thought again, but his face was calm this time and only his lips moved a little. A minute passed and then another. Even more minutes passed. It seemed that Paul had gone somewhere deep inside himself with his thoughts.

  “It's a butterfly,” he suddenly said.

  There was a pause.

  “Correct. And now the last question.”

  Paul wiped the sweat from his brow.

  “Once upon a time there lived two twins. One day, one of the twins went on a long journey for several years. When he came back it turned out that he had turned into an old man, while his brother became only a little older. How did that happen?”

  Mother Darkness! Rick stared at the pillar, frowning. The machine was asking a man who lived in the Middle Ages questions about the space-time continuum!

  Paul breathed out. His eyes darted over at Rick. A loud signal immediately rang out.

  “No assistance. Answer the question.”

  Rick gritted his teeth. There was nothing worse than watching someone else die when you are powerless to stop it. Paul sighed and shook his head.

  “A journey over which one twin got old and the other one didn't...” he pronounced. “A man gets old over many years. This means that a very long time has passed. On the other side, however, the second brother only got a little older. How is that possible? It turns out that one day that one brother lived was like several days for the other.”

  “Your answer?”

  “I don't know for sure. I think it's something to do with time.”

  “Explain yourself.”

  “Time passed differently for each one of them.”

  “Why?”

  “I don't know. Maybe one of them was bored while the other one was busy with work all the time. Maybe one suffered from loneliness while the other had a family. Everyone perceives time in their own way.”

  The machine stayed silent. Paul gulped nervously. Rick adjusted his blaster, trying to seem innocuous. If that piece of scrap decided to destroy them, he would give it a final salute.

  “Answer accepted. You have been determined to be human. You may continue on your way
.”

  “And what would have happened if we did not answer the questions?” Rick asked with genuine curiosity.

  “You would not be able to continue on your way.”

  “What if we tried?” he brandished his weapon.

  “This entire hall is an autonomous matter disintegrator.”

  “What does that mean?” Paul did not understand.

  Rick did not answer, he just nodded. No, there would not have been a chance for a final salute. Before his synapses could convey the command for his finger to squeeze the trigger, anything alive would have been reduced to its component atoms.

  “Let's get out of here,” he hissed.

  A door opened at the end of the hall. They hurried towards the rectangle of light and got out. There were no new rooms this time — they stood upon an open platform, which rose above the yellow-gray disk at the bottom of the tower. Rick approached the railings and stopped, amazed by the view in front of him.

  All of the space before the tower was occupied by a sector that was an incredibly complex structure that had suddenly appeared from some unknown place that had been erected by unknown architects. Rick would swear upon anything in his life that when they had first noticed the tower and the disk at its base they saw nothing like this at all. So where did it come from?

  In wonder, he looked at the blocks of identical buildings, domes, the needles of the pillars that intertwined in rows along road intersections, the deep holes of the wells and canals which were filled with water in some places.

  The sector before his eyes was surrounded with high walls. Now this was a familiar sight — the territory by his Thermopolis homeland had a similar architecture, similar to a cake that had been cut into even slices. The bed of a wide and very deep canal stretched out from underneath the observation platform.

  What is this?

  “Where?” Paul suddenly asked.

  Rick shook his head. It seems that he had asked his question out loud. He pointed at the canal.

  “This. What do you think?”

  Paul shrugged and said, “It's an unbelievable structure! I'm talking about all of it. I can't even imagine how long people labored here.”

  “Not people. Machines. Mainly machines, but not without some help from humans.”