Complication
Page 21
The map on Michael’s chin proved worthy of leading them on the correct course. Within an hour and a half they caught up to Glen and his small team, slowed down with their loaded donkeys. The five of them took a position on a high ridge and looked down on Glen’s entourage. Glen was talking with one of his men, pointing up and down the valley.
“The map indicates that it’s right down there, somewhere in this section of the valley,” said a twin, binoculars to his face. “But they seem to be discussing which way to go.”
Michael pulled the binoculars from him and took a look. “Should we just follow them?” He handed the spy glasses to Debora.
She adjusted the lenses, panned left and right. “I don’t understand why they can’t find it,” she finally said. “I can see it from here.” The binoculars were handed back down the line to the twin on the far end. “Look at the canyon wall to the immediate left of the lead donkey. See how the weeds are growing in a pattern from the cracks?”
“It’s like a grid. It looks like a wall was built up with blocks. Excellent eye,” he said. “I guess sometimes the best way to see something is to step back from it. We probably would have walked right by it too.”
They waited until Glen and his crew moved on and then they scaled down the valley wall to the bottom.
“Do you have another one of those bombs?” Michael asked as they stood in front of the wall facade.
“Just had the one, but it would be too loud anyway.”
Michael pushed at the wall with both hands. “I’m not sure if it is going to budge.”
Charlie began to pull away the weeds from between the cracks. They came out complete with clumps of dirt.
“Look at that,” a twin said, “he is already being useful.”
The others joined him, pulling the vegetation out wherever they could get a hold of it. When they were done, they pushed against the blocks, all their weight leaning forward, their feet digging into the ground.
“I think it’s giving,” someone grunted. The wall toppled in and they all took a flinching step back as it fell away. It broke into squares that tumbled down a sloping tunnel, finally ending with a rumbling splash.
The interior walls of the tunnel were smooth. This was no cave. This had been cut out, sanded and polished into a precise sloping corridor. The floor was slick with years of trickling water.
“Echo!” Charlie shouted. He stood close to the opening, then inched forward and leaned in even more. He smiled as his voice came back to him. Debora grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him back. One of the twins was already hammering a spike into the ground. He pulled a spool of cable from his pack, attached one end to the spike and sat down with the spool on his lap.
“Let me get a little way,” he said, “then the next person can come down; space yourselves out.” He set a pile of light sticks beside himself for the others, clipped one of them to the strap of his bag and began to slide down. They watched as the glow of his light moved slowly into the darkness. They heard the echo of his feet on the rock. One by one they lowered themselves down in the same fashion, working hard to keep a grip on the thin cable.
The corridor led to a large open chamber and they had no choice but to drop into a moat that encircled the room. The water was cold and slimy and they climbed out of the other side shivering painfully. Droplets of water on their lights cast blotchy shadows around the expanse of the room, making it eerier than it might have been.
In the center of the chamber was a deep shaft covered by a cage. From the shaft came the noise of machinery, clicking and clacking, the laboring of gears. A look inside showed a mangle of cogs and wheels and a criss-cross of moving chain. It was rather loud, but relatively quiet for its size, especially considering it was in an echoing room of stone.
Off of the main room was a maze of tunnels. Charlie ran down one of them. Debora called after him. A moment later he popped out of an opening on the other side of the chamber. “There are a million hallways back here,” he said.
“Stay with us,” Debora said, but Charlie had already ducked back into the rock walls.
Michael chuckled. “Preventing Glen from getting the complicator wasn’t hard enough for you. You wanted to baby-sit his boy in the process.” Debora sighed and followed after Charlie.
Michael and the twins stood at the edge of the shaft looking down into the spinning machinery.
“Machine of the Earth?” Michael asked in an elevated voice.
“The slaves found this one while quarrying. It’s amazing we kept it secret for so long.”
“Does anyone know the location of the others?”
The twin looked at him with an indiscernible expression that made Michael not want to know the answer.
“Are you a believer now?”
Michael considered it and walked a little ways around the shaft for a different view.
“There is another room back here,” Debora called. Her voice echoed to the main chamber.
Michael and the twins went looking for her and found her in a similar carved out chamber. They shined their lights up and down the walls. On the back wall was a swinging, gold pendulum. It moved smoothly and silently back and forth, shimmering in their lights.
“Don’t get too close to that thing,” warned a twin. “It’s solid gold, and will not stop for the likes of you.”
“It’s got to be worth a fortune,” Debora said.
“Actually,” said a twin, “it is likely the least valuable thing in here.” He turned his light away. “I’m guessing that is the real treasure.” In the center of the room stood a waist high pedestal, on it a foggy glass box, clouded by age on the outside and smoke on the inside. “Behold, Mr. Bandolier,” he said unenthusiastically, “the complicator.”
“A box?”
“Inside the box.” The twin reached to take it from its resting place.
“Wait, wait.” Michael rushed over to stop him. The twin paused, his hands just inches from the cube. “Booby traps,” Michael said.
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah, these types of things are always booby trapped, you can’t just pick them up. The floor will drop out from beneath us, the ceiling will cave in, or something.”
“You’re right. I have an idea to test it.” He stood before the pedestal and took a breath. He slowly ran his fingers along the perimeter of the glass box then casually lifted it from its place. Michael and Debora winced. “Nope, no booby trap, we are safe.”
“Enough playing around,” the other twin said. “Eventually, Glen will circle back and find the tunnel opening. We do not want to be here when he does.”
“I haven’t found Charlie.”
“Find him quick, I have half a mind to leave him down here.”
“Go ahead,” Debora said. “We’ll be right behind you.” She ran down a corridor to retrieve Charlie.
They all moved toward the tunnel opening. The twin holding the box remained at the podium. He held the foggy glass cube wrapped in both arms, held in an almost lovingly embrace against his chest. “Are we really going to just walk away from this?” he asked. “Just think of the power the possessor of this object can hold. With this we wouldn’t have enemies.” He looked at his identical brother. “I mean, why not. Who could make war against us?”
“That’s right. That is why we need to keep it safe,” the other twin said.
“If this grants a power we don’t want our enemies to have, why would we simply hide it away, why wouldn’t we want to control it ourselves?”
“It’s forbidden. We are not gods and wanting to be is a sin. It’s the ultimate apple that should not be eaten,” he said. “Don’t be tempted by evil, it will surely pay you its wages.” He held out both hands. “That thing will destroy you, give it to me.”
A voice echoed out, as if it was coming from the rock itself. “Did he say you would be destroyed?” Glen held the striking rod under one arm like a king’s scepter. “Or is it just because he knows, that the moment we possess the complicator,” he cli
nched his fist in front of his face as if grabbing on to something with an eternal grasp, “we will be like gods?” He smiled with sincere pleasure.
Michael shuddered. Glen was truly deranged. Although Michael had never ventured into belief in God, he clearly recognized the evil in wanting to be a god. For Michael it was a simple notion, if you didn’t believe that there was a god then it wouldn’t make sense to think you could become one. If you did believe in God, it would only be evil that would make you want to usurp him. Michael suspected that Glen was a man who believed in God and actively sought to overthrow him. He shuddered again.
A second person, Glen’s bodyguard, came in behind him. He tossed Glen a ball that looked to have a soft plastic outer shell with a second layer of glass inside. Liquid filled both the center and the layer between the glass and plastic. Glen shook the globe then threw it to the ground. The glass inside broke and the ball began to glow. It became like a miniature star, lighting up the chamber, casting shadows up the tall walls.
In the brighter light they could see that the chamber was carved out just as meticulously as the corridor had been. The domed ceiling had massive statues carved into it, four men descending like angels. Each of them had their arms stretched above their heads, to do their part in holding up a massive stone globe that rested at the center.
Glen approached the twin who held the glass box. He held his hands out offering a choice. “Join me. This is the apex of mankind. It’s for all of us.”
Before letting his brother choose, the other twin lunged, tackling his brother to the ground. The glass box shattered easily and the smoke rose ominously in the cold damp air of the chamber. The complicator lay among the shards, standing out only by shape. It was larger than Michael imagined, about as big around as a tea plate. There was no metal encasement; instead the entire thing was a flattened bulb of blue tinted glass, probably vacuum sealed like a light bulb.
Michael went for it. He raced across the chamber. In his path was the glowing orb. He kicked it at Glen’s bodyguard as he went. The shadows in the room spun around. The bodyguard batted it away and charged at Michael. Michael took the brunt of the large man’s shoulder and together they plowed through the podium that held the complicator. It split to shards against Michael’s back; a lucky occurrence, but painful all the same. Michael was barely to his feet when the man charged again. The wall of the chamber proved to be far worse than the podium. All of Michael’s breath left his body. He felt the strange sensation of spinning; something was moving, whether it was him or the room, he couldn’t tell.
The shock of realizing where he was, forced a draw of breath back into Michael’s lungs. Breathing was the least of his worries. He pressed himself firmly against the wall and turned his head for a flatter profile. The pendulum rushed through the same path it had been taking for ages, and there was still no need for it to stop. It swept the muscle filled man aside and came back. Michael dared not move. He felt the weight of it pass in front of him again. It seemed to pull at him with a force like gravity. When it was past, he lurched forward to the open floor.
It was too late; Glen must have gotten the complicator. In its place, among the glass on the floor, was the punch rod. The twins were nowhere in sight. Michael made himself move, swooping to pick up the rod, and headed back toward the main chamber.
In the other room, he saw that a hatch door was open on the grate that covered the machine. He climbed inside. A ladder against the wall led to a narrow ledge set around the circumference of the shaft. Michael continued cautiously, his back firmly against the curve of the wall. His light was aimed at his feet. Below, he could see reflections on some of the machine parts. Below that, there was only blackness.
As he scooted around the shaft, a face came into view. Michael flinched and almost lost his footing. It was one of the twins. He was reaching out from the machine. Michael took hold of his arms and tried to pull him to the wall. The twin let out a painful cry. Holding his light out, Michael saw that the twin’s foot was caught in a spring wheel. He worked the wheel loose, but it only moved slightly and the twin cried out again.
“Stop,” he said. “Keep going, Glen is down there.”
Halfway around the shaft was another ladder descending still farther into the darkness. At the bottom, Michael saw Glen hopping off to the next ledge. Michael vainly covered his light, then followed Glen down. He caught up to him on a square platform.
Glen stood at a panel, a flat stone tabletop, consisting of just two circular depressions. He held the complicator against the stone, between the two indentations, trying to decide which to slide it into.
“Stop,” Michael said. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Glen turned back. The look on his face showed that he was not. Michael laughed. “You came all this way to play god and you’re unprepared.”
Charlie dangled down, his legs wrapped around a beam above them. His hat was off, clenched at his chest, his hair hung free. “Can I choose?”
Michael swung the bar, catching Glen’s face in mid-surprise, his eyes stilled rolled up at Charlie. It was a far more powerful swing than Michael had endured. It got Glen from his ear to his jaw, sending his glasses sailing down the shaft. The crunch of bone sent a shudder up Michael’s back. Glen collapsed. The platform shook.
Charlie dropped down with a scream. He went to his father. Michael scrambled around the deck searching for the complicator. Maybe it flew down the shaft along with the glasses. He tried to decide if that would be such a bad thing. Then he saw it. It was resting on a cylinder drum wheel that was slowly rotating. He looked just as it slipped off. It rolled down a sloping ledge, hit the stone panel and bounced into a roll. It rolled on its edge, narrowly missing the depressions and started up a slope on the other side.
A weight hit Michael from behind. Charlie clung to his back and wrapped his arms around his neck. Michael tried to shake him loose, but that only made the boy latch on tighter. The dizziness set in. Michael thought he was imagining things when the complicator stopped, and rolled back toward the panel. It made a tight semi-circle around one of the depressions, then simply tipped to its side, landing perfectly inside one of the indentations. Michael made a breathless gasp that hurt his heart.
The machine reacted. Something jolted hard enough to shake the platform and Charlie loosened his hold.
Michael heaved in a breath and raced to the panel to claw the complicator free. It was to no avail. He heard a fragile crunch as a crack started to spider-web its way across the glass shell of the device. He felt a sting in his finger tip and pulled away. A tiny drop of blood ran down his finger.
He stepped back and listened while the machine continued to work on the glass. The gears inside the panel caught hold of the gears inside the device and began to turn them. The change in the sound of the machine was obvious. It labored harder and slower until it finally stopped. There was a silence so dreadful that it hurt Michael’s ears. Then the machine started again; Michael could only imagine that that was worse. He saw the cogs moving in the opposite direction. His shoulders felt heavy. He had failed. The massive machine groaned with him, changing its pitch as the gears picked up speed. He dropped the rod and it landed with two quick bounces.
At the top of the shaft, the twin clung to the bottom rung of the ladder, his foot freed when the spring wheel turned back. Michael put a shoulder under his arm and hoisted him up the ladder with him.
The chamber was vibrating like a bell. Large stones began to fall around them, pelting the floor and the covering over the shaft.
“What’s happening?” Debora asked, barely able to hear her own words.
Michael pulled the wounded twin out of the hatch. “I couldn’t stop Glen,” he said helping the wounded twin to his one good foot.
“There is nothing we can do now,” the twin said through his pain. He hopped across the chamber. “Look, we have to hurry, or we’ll be trapped.” The tunnel was closing in, giant slabs of rock sliding into the opening.
“At least it scared off the rest of Glen’s men,” Michael said.
Fifteen