The Resurrection Key

by Andy McDermott

  ‘I’ll do it when I’m goddamn good and ready, okay?’ Nina shot back through her throat mic. ‘I need to make sure there aren’t any nasty surprises.’

  ‘We examined the broken coffins. There are no traps.’

  ‘The key word there is “broken”, and I know from experience that the traps on these things aren’t mechanical. I’m the archaeologist, not you, so let me do my job, okay?’ She glanced at the window. Eddie’s smirk told her that her side of the conversation was on speaker.

  ‘Just do it,’ the Chinese woman snapped.

  Nina ignored her, crouching to examine the sarcophagus for breaks in the metal or hidden panels. There were none. She checked the underside. The broken pipe had been replugged.

  No evidence of any physical booby traps. Nor, for that matter, any way of opening the coffin without using the key – or brute force. ‘Okay,’ she said reluctantly. ‘I’m putting the key in.’

  She hesitated, then inserted it into the recess. It was a perfect fit, nestling into place with a surprisingly satisfying click.

  Nothing happened – yet. She had deliberately kept her hand off the central insets, knowing the purple stone was a conductor for earth energy. Wu impatiently demanded a progress report, but again Nina ignored her, unwilling to take the next step until she was ready.

  As far as she could tell, there was no danger – other than the unknown. ‘Right,’ she finally said, ‘here we go.’

  She placed her palm flat on the key.

  Even expecting the shock of contact, it still made her flinch. The sarcophagus was indeed alive with earth energy, the mysterious lines of force weaving over the entire planet. She could feel them, some inexplicable sixth sense revealing them to her not just within the coffin, but in the chamber outside, the base – and beyond.

  She knew from her experiences with the vault in Turkey that she could do more than feel the energy flow. She could shape it, her willpower alone enough to influence its course. She focused her attention on the sarcophagus. Somehow she could make it open, wake the sleeper inside—

  Someone else was in there with her.

  Nina broke contact, jerking back as if from an electric shock. ‘Nina!’ Eddie shouted in her earpiece, his cry loud enough to be picked up by Wu’s headset. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I – I’m fine,’ she stammered.

  ‘What happened?’ demanded Wu.

  ‘I’m still trying to figure that out!’ She took a moment to compose her thoughts. ‘Okay. When I touched the key, I felt the flow of earth energy – qi, you called it. I was trying to direct it so I could open the sarcophagus when . . . when I felt the person inside it. He’s still alive. He’s conscious.’

  Shock from the observers. Dr Hui wore a headset of her own, her voice coming through the earpiece. ‘That is not possible. How can he still be conscious?’

  ‘I don’t mean he’s fully awake and aware of what’s going on,’ said Nina. ‘But there’s . . . a spark, some part of him that’s still active.’ The implications hit her. ‘My God. He’s been in there for over a hundred thousand years – and at some level, he’s been conscious all that time. What the hell will that have done to his mind?’

  ‘We will find out soon,’ said Wu without sympathy. ‘Go back to the key. You have wasted enough time – open the sarcophagus.’

  ‘All right, but you can pay for the guy’s shrink.’

  Now prepared, she placed her hand back on the key. Her external perception fell away as an inner eye reopened. The energy flow surrounded her again. She concentrated upon the coffin. Again she made contact with the spark of life inside. But this time she forced herself past it, searching for some other mental handhold. The Turkish vault had had a way to stabilise the spearhead once it was triggered; there had to be something similar here . . .

  There was. The lines of power flowed together, concentrating in one particular place. She fixed her mind upon it. She didn’t know how to manipulate it, only that she could—

  That was enough.

  Her will shaped the phantom world – and something changed, the lines reconfiguring. The jolt of transition was enough to make her release the key in surprise. Reality snapped back around her, leaving her momentarily confused – then she hurriedly retreated as a low thud came from within the sarcophagus.

  The crystal lid began to open.

  Yellow gas swirled through the slowly widening crack – and alarms sounded, the isolation chamber’s sensors detecting the poison. The dirty mustard-coloured miasma rolled across the room after Nina. ‘Okay, you can let me out now,’ she said, reaching the door. ‘Seriously, I’m done here!’

  The exit remained closed. ‘The ventilation filters will quickly clear the air,’ Wu told her as powerful fans started to thrum.

  ‘That’s great – unless this stuff kills me on contact!’ She flattened herself into the furthest corner, watching with growing fear as the expanding cloud came closer . . . then began to rise, swirling into a vortex as the extractors drew it upwards. In seconds, the escaping gas became a yellow tornado as it was sucked from the still-opening sarcophagus.

  Clean air pumped into the room to replace it, rustling Nina’s clothing. Soon the cloud became translucent, the discoloration thinning, then vanishing.

  ‘The air is clean,’ Wu reported. ‘You can take off the mask.’

  ‘Y’know, I’ll give it another minute, just in case,’ Nina replied. Cautiously returning to the now-open coffin, she looked beneath the cover – and gasped.

  The giant figure within, naked except for a broad golden circlet around its head, was entwined in what at first glance looked like silver threads until she realised they were tendrils of crystal, extruded from the inner bed on which it lay. The occupant’s genitals were concealed beneath the covering, but she knew at once from the hard, angular features of his face that he was male.

  That face was . . . unsettling. The mummified Veteres bodies in the Garden of Eden had been of a related but separate species to Homo sapiens, as Hui had suggested, resembling popular culture’s idea of a Grey alien. The man before her was somewhere between the two. Even had he not been ten feet tall, one look would have been enough to know he was not quite human. The face was longer, eyes larger and more canted, the proportions of the features off. He had an almost predatory feel, giving Nina a brief, involuntary shiver. The offspring of angels and humans . . .

  ‘Our instruments do not show any change in his condition,’ said Hui. ‘Is he waking?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she replied. The figure hadn’t moved at all; if not for the small but powerful sense of life she had felt, she would have assumed him to be dead.

  ‘Use the key again,’ ordered Wu. ‘Wake him.’

  ‘Don’t I get a coffee break first?’ Her joke was met with stony silence. ‘Okay, okay. Let’s see what I can do . . .’

  She placed her hand back upon the key. This time, she brought her attention to the point of life within the patterns of force. Somehow she had to free it, wake it up. But how?

  The question, the mere desire to do so, was already guiding her invisible hands. The flow of energy shifted. The sense of contact with the sleeper’s consciousness returned—

  Cold shock, almost fear, nearly jerked her hand from the key, but she forced herself to maintain her hold.

  He was awakening. And he knew she was there.

  But somehow, she knew there was more she needed to do. Something scraped at her subconscious, a discordance telling her that whatever process was bringing the man from his stasis was not going smoothly. Again, she didn’t know exactly how to fix it, but the application of her willpower reshaped the earth’s invisible forces. The discomfort began to ease.

  She became dimly aware of a voice saying her name. Not the sleeper: Hui, penetrating her fugue state. ‘. . . you all right? Can you hear me?’

  ‘I’m fine.�
� Her own voice sounded distorted, slowed, as if what she perceived internally was happening much faster than the outside world. ‘He’s coming around. I think.’ But she was now sure; the discordance faded, the rasping on her soul gone. From here, it was all up to the sleeper himself.

  Nina let go of the key. The snap back to reality this time left her dazed, her mind reluctant to leave the unseen world. There she had power, could shape and control what happened; here, she belatedly remembered as she turned, she was a prisoner. The Chinese scientists and soldiers were still watching her intently. Eddie and Macy’s concern became relief as they saw she was unharmed.

  ‘I’m okay,’ she said. ‘That was, uh . . . a hell of a thing.’

  ‘What happened?’ asked Hui. ‘Did you manage to alter the qi forces?’

  ‘I think so, yeah. He should start to . . .’ She trailed off as she saw the crystalline tendrils slowly shrink, retracting and being absorbed into the translucent slab on which the Nephilim lay. The crystal itself changed colour, taking on an eerie turquoise hue.

  More of the giant’s body was gradually revealed. The aeons motionless inside the coffin had not diminished him; his muscles were still sharply defined, a lean but powerful frame. She watched as the thin creepers withered to nothingness. ‘Okay, I’ve never seen anything like that before – and I’ve seen a lot of weird things.’

  ‘Is he awake?’ demanded Wu.

  Hui checked readings on a laptop. ‘I do not know if he is awake – but he is definitely alive. Look!’ She turned the machine.

  It displayed a thermographic feed of the isolation room, heat sources in lurid false colour against a dark background. Nina herself was an inverse silhouette of hot orange and yellow and white – but behind her, a new form took shape, shimmering blobs of purple and blue spreading to create a supine humanoid shape. The colours shifted, greens and reds appearing as the body grew warmer.

  One of the scientists called out in excitement. ‘He has a heartbeat,’ Hui reported breathlessly. ‘Slow – but it is getting faster!’

  Nina again regarded the figure inside the sarcophagus. He had still not moved, but his pale grey skin had taken on a warmer tone at his extremities. ‘Is the air definitely safe?’ she asked. Wu confirmed it was. ‘Okay, I’m taking off the mask.’

  ‘No, wait,’ said Hui. ‘It will affect our readings of—’

  ‘Sorry, but I’ve had enough of being the gimp.’ She unzipped and tugged away the covering hood before fumbling with the gas mask’s buckles. The inner seal came free from her face with a wet pop. Her skin suddenly felt cool where she had been sweating beneath the enclosing rubber. She took in a long, unfiltered breath. Relief; she didn’t drop dead on the spot.

  Another look at the Nephilim. His face was now changing colour as long-static blood warmed and pulsed through his arteries. His natural skin tone was unlike any of humanity’s many variations, though, with a distinct blue cast resembling pale marble. ‘What’s his heart rate now?’

  ‘Rising, but below normal,’ Hui replied. ‘Though we do not know what is normal for him.’

  ‘Just the fact that it’s beating at all after longer than the whole of recorded human history is amazing in its own right,’ Nina noted. ‘How about his body temperature?’

  ‘Close to human normal,’ the scientist replied.

  The being’s chest remained motionless. ‘Is he breathing?’

  ‘There is no way to tell.’ Hui’s tone was a little accusatory. ‘Your breath is affecting the carbon dioxide readings.’

  ‘Have to check the old-fashioned way, then.’ She retrieved the mask and held the glass eyepieces below the Nephilim’s nose. No sign of misting. ‘Nothing. He’ll have to start soon, though.’ She leaned closer, seeing a faint pulse beneath one eye. ‘Blood flow without fresh oxygen is going to cause him some major problems in—’

  The eye snapped open.

  Nina stared at it, frozen in surprise – and before she could react the towering man grabbed her by the throat.

  25

  Macy’s scream was audible even through the isolation chamber’s thick glass. Nina tried to pull back, but the huge hand clamped crushingly tight around her neck.

  The Nephilim drew in a deep, gasping lungful of air, then exhaled, his first breath in untold millennia. Another gasp, then he swung his legs from the sarcophagus and stood – hauling Nina off her feet. She fought to break his grip, but his tendons were like steel.

  Frenzied activity outside the transparent wall, Colonel Wu shouting orders and the soldiers scrambling to respond as the scientists backed away in shock. Only Eddie held his position, pushing Macy behind him and yelling his wife’s name as he pounded helplessly on the armoured barrier.

  She couldn’t hear his voice – but instead heard another, in a tongue not spoken since the dawn of humanity. The Nephilim shouted something at those on the other side of the glass. Both confusion and anger were clear in the unknown words. His voice was powerful, deep, with a strange echo from the depths of his broad chest.

  The chamber’s door opened. Several soldiers burst in. Major Wu followed, barking orders. The Nephilim whirled to face them.

  Nina was still trapped in his grip. She clawed at her captor’s unyielding fingers – then changed targets, kicking at his exposed genitals.

  The Nephilim was surprised by the attack, but twisted just quickly enough to take the blow on his upper thigh. He grunted, then glared at her, teeth bared. His grip tightened still further. Nina let out a silent cry as darkness swallowed her vision—

  The pressure suddenly eased. She drew in a painful breath. The Nephilim’s eyes went back to the soldiers – who had moved closer, raising their guns. He looked from one man to another, gaze flicking over their weapons . . . then his hand opened.

  Nina fell to the floor, weak and breathless. An order from Wu, and two men dragged her through the door.

  Eddie was already there. ‘Get off her!’ he growled, shoving a soldier aside to pick her up. ‘I’ve got you.’ He carried her clear.

  ‘Mom!’ Macy wailed, running to them. ‘Mom, are you okay?’

  ‘Jury’s . . . out,’ Nina gasped. ‘Jesus! I thought . . . he was gonna . . . kill me!’

  ‘He did too – until he saw the guns,’ said Eddie, looking back through the window. The giant and the soldiers remained in a stand-off. ‘How the hell would someone from a hundred thousand years ago recognise an assault rifle?’

  Nina had no time to ponder the question. Hui issued rapid commands. Zan Zhi hurriedly worked his laptop, donning a headset. A window opened on the screen; he checked it, then spoke. The language was not Mandarin, the words glottal and strange.

  The Nephilim looked in surprise at the voice coming from loudspeakers in the ceiling. Zan spoke again, a longer sentence. The giant gave the soldiers a wary glance, then advanced to address the Chinese man through the glass. Nina saw words flash up on the screen, one set in the Nephilim alphabet, the other in simplified Chinese. The computer was translating the ancient being’s speech.

  Zan didn’t need the machine to understand, replying before the full translation had appeared. The Nephilim regarded him with evident suspicion, but his anger lessened.

  ‘What’s he saying?’ Eddie demanded as Hui joined Zan.

  ‘He wants to know where he is, and where the rest of his people are,’ Zan replied. His English was as fluent as Cheng’s.

  ‘Probably best not to tell him they’re at the bottom of the Antarctic Ocean.’

  ‘I told him that he’s safe, and in China. Near the Nephilim site we found, I mean – I wanted to see if he recognised the name from the records. He wouldn’t know what China is.’

  ‘Did he recognise it?’ Nina asked, recovering her breath. Her throat felt bruised, aching from her attacker’s grip.

  ‘I think so, but—’ Zan broke off as the Nephilim spoke again. The tone was
commanding, but less hostile. The translator replied, nodding, then hurried across the lab to a water cooler.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Hui demanded.

  ‘He asked for water.’ He filled a cup, then a second. ‘He’ll be very thirsty after all this time!’

  ‘You’re going in there?’ asked Eddie in disbelief. ‘He just tried to kill Nina!’

  ‘No, this is good,’ said Hui. ‘It will establish trust. Take it to him, Zhi.’

  Colonel Wu appeared unconvinced, but nevertheless waved Zan into the isolation chamber. The soldiers parted to let him through. He cautiously approached the watching giant, speaking to him in his own language. The Nephilim’s expression was equally wary, but he took the proffered water, sniffing it before gulping it down.

  That seemed to be the ice-breaker. The tall man returned to the sarcophagus and sat upon its end, holding out a hand in a clear gesture: more. Zan bowed his head and hurried back out to bring him two more cups. A short exchange followed, the Nephilim giving the observers a look of assessment before concluding.

  Zan emerged, face filled with nervous enthusiasm. ‘I’ve spoken to him!’ he announced proudly.

  Wu was unimpressed. ‘Yes, we saw.’

  ‘What did he say?’ asked Hui.

  ‘His name is Gadreel. He is the leader of the Nephilim!’

  ‘Gadreel?’ said Nina, just as Hui echoed the name with equal surprise. ‘That’s a biblical name!’

  ‘Well, you said the Nephilim are from the Bible,’ Eddie pointed out.

  ‘From Enoch,’ said Hui. ‘One of the non-canonical books. It describes the fall of the angels who copulated with humans to create the Nephilim, the giants.’

  ‘You’ve done your research,’ said Nina.

  ‘As soon as it became clear that this race called itself the Nephilim, we collected as much information and folklore about them as we could. Most of it came from the Old Testament of the Jews, even those parts that became apocryphal.’ Hui gave the being beyond the glass a quizzical look. ‘But the biblical Gadreel was not one of the Nephilim – they were the offspring. He was an angel, one of those responsible for their creation.’