By late afternoon the pair made it to the mountain. Exhausted, Charles felt a pain in his lower legs from carrying his heavy pack that held the casket. He and My Own rested along a creek bed. There they drank the cool clear water; Charles never tasted water so pure and unfiltered from the processing plants before. He saw the same reaction in My Own’s eyes when she took a drink. They ate berries found growing along a patch. Although they risked getting sick by eating the untested fruit, they also risked not keeping up their strength. The possibility of freezing to death when night fell laid heavy on Charles’ thoughts. Already a chill lingered in the air. They had no provisions, no blankets and nothing to keep them warm. All lost when the creature attacked.
Though My Own assured him she could start a fire when night came, Charles wasn’t sure how good of an idea that would be. The last thing he wanted to do was alert the creature where they were.
For the entire day Charles watched over his shoulder waiting for the animal that killed his friends to return, but it never appeared.
Charles saw My Own keeping an eye behind them too. Neither of them said it out loud, but they knew the possibility of the beast’s return.
When the creature’s roar echoed in the valley behind them, the pair sprinted across the slag rock at the mountain’s base. Charles thought he would vomit. His legs couldn’t move fast enough. They were like rubber as he ran. The surface of the rock slipped under his feet, but he didn’t fall.
Charles looked over his shoulder to make sure My Own kept up. Instead he found the girl looking out across the meadow behind them, defiant.
“What are you doing – run!” Charles yelled.
“Don’t you want to see it, Professor?” My Own asked. She balled her hands up into tight fists, waiting.
Charles ran to join her. He tried to wet his lips with a dry tongue. Uncertain what they were doing was a good idea, he said, “We should go…”
The echo of the creature’s footfalls came toward them.
“Wait for it…” My Own said. She reached over and gripped Charles’ arm in her hand.
The thunderous footfalls stopped. Charles heard the creature snorting, but he couldn’t see the beast. “Is it there?” he whispered.
My Own tugged on Charles’ arm, and said, “Come on, Professor… I was wrong… we should go.”
Charles didn’t listen. He had to see the thing… had to know what it looked like. Controlling his breathing he felt a wrench of pain throughout his chest. He should run, but he waited. He had to know. Show yourself damn it… show yourself.
“Professor, please, I was wrong. We need to go,” My Own said in a quiet steady voice.
Charles refused to answer. I need to see it, he thought.
“There still might be hope to find Vincent!” My Own said.
Vincent Abernathy would have stayed and watched for the creature too. Charles had no doubt. He and his longtime friend had the same desire for the unknown. The beast was the epitome of the unknown and needed to be discovered. Charles hated the animal for what it did, but he wanted to understand the nature of it. Did it kill his friends for survival, or for sport? How did it think, how did it migrate, how did it procreate? Valid questions that any scientist would ask.
With the creature feet from him, Charles’ chest tightened. It was right in front of him. He heard its breathing, it was intoxicating. It reminded Charles of old videos of the steam powered locomotives that once dominated the Earth centuries ago. A grunting sound followed – yet he couldn’t see the creature, not even an outline.
He looked up with his hand stretched out above him to block the sun, Charles wondered if the ultraviolet rays masked the creature’s presence – it must be. Charles stood unyielding. The lumbering stride of the creature made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His heart drummed, not seeing the monster, drew ripples of goose bumps across his flesh. When a thick patch of clouds dimmed the suns afternoon glow, the beast became tangible. “I was right,” he whispered with a growl. “I was right…”
The beast’s gaping mouth and huge tusks became visible, along with its massive claw hands. The rest of the animal remained invisible, hidden in the light.
As the creature’s glowing eyes flashed in the ether, Charles jumped. They thinned and stared at him. The beast snorted and roared. The creature’s breath smelled like rotten eggs.
“Professor now would be a good time to run!” My Own shouted, not waiting for Charles. She ran pell-mell across the slag heap toward the mountain.
Charles agreed and ran after the young Highlander. He found nothing more frightening than an invisible creature bent on killing. Again, the creature roared. Charles picked up his pace, his feet slid on the loose rock along the mountain base. Thunderous footfalls came up behind him.
My Own had a considerable lead, she ran along the rock edge like a gazelle, a gap channeled its way through the mountain. She disappeared into it before Charles yelled at her to wait. With little choice he followed her down into the canal. It looked like water had cut out the path centuries ago. Narrow and dark, he braced his hands against the crag preventing him from sliding down the steep embankment. The walls of rock loomed over him as he went deeper and deeper along its winding path.
Charles picked up his pace to catch up with My Own, who raced fifteen meters ahead sprinting down the channel, she charged forward like an animal, nimble and unyielding. He tried to move faster but the channel became steeper, and it quickened his descent into an uncontrollable drop. He turned to glance behind him. Wait a minute. He spun around digging his feet into the ground to stop. Panting like a wild dog, he slowed his breathing to listen. Nothing. The creature had gone.
“Professor?” My Own called out. Her voice echoed.
“Here,” Charles said and waved. He noticed her cradling her arm. “Are you all right?”
“I slipped! I hurt my arm, but it’s not broken.”
Charles rushed to her. Brilliant sunlight came from the other side of the channel, cutting through the graying rock. It blinded him, but together he and My Own came out the other side of the canal.
“Where are we?”
Charles looked over My Own’s shoulder, stunned. There in the middle of a huge field, among a beautiful bouquet of flowers of reds, fuchsias, blues and greens he saw a tall black stone structure stretching into the sky like a giant monolith.
My Own turned. “What is that?” she asked.
Charles took a deep breath, mesmerized. He rubbed his face, found stubble there from two days growth. The colossal stone edifice, woven with thick green vines looked long forgotten – a testament to the architects. Charles stumbled forward. Atop the structure the elusive Z symbol reflected off the midday sun. He rubbed his eyes, to assure himself he wasn’t hallucinating. He staggered forward.
My Own stood close to him. “Have you ever seen anything like that before?” she asked.
Charles couldn’t take his eyes off the Z… he shook his head and took My Own’s hand. “Let’s be cautious,” he said and led her down a winding dirt path that cut through the tall grass and colorful flowers like a winding ribbon.
In the sky, a flock of giant birds floated on the morning winds. My Own looked up, cupped a hand over her eyes to block the midday sun, and asked, “Are those birds? My father told me about them,” she said and laughed. Most fowl had died off Earth fifty years before she was born.
Charles stopped to examine them. “They’re scavengers.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means we shouldn’t stand still too long. They might try to have us for an early lunch.”
My Own watched the scavenger birds getting closer with each passing second. She sped up to keep pace with Charles. “It will be all right,” he told her.
“What do you think this building is?”
“If I had to guess…”
“Which I’ve learned you hate to do,” My Own said with a smile.
Charles glanced at her, nodded and said, “I’d gue
ss it’s a temple of some kind. I’ll be able to tell you more once we’re inside.”
“Is it safe?”
Charles shrugged. “What do you consider safe? So far we haven’t found this planet to be very hospitable since we’ve arrived – have we?”
My Own nodded in agreement.
They found a stone path half buried by centuries of neglect. Broken, uneven and covered by weeds and dirt. Charles and My Own followed it up to the temple. It didn’t take him long to start piecing together a possible history for the temple. He looked in the opposite direction trying to determine where the path began and then looked back at the building. It must have been a place of great importance.
Pieces of the structure lay broken at the temple’s base, scattered about, and chipped away. The vine’s stranglehold tore their way into the black stone, but after many years, still hadn’t destroyed the strong granite.
“This place could be the oldest thing in the galaxy,” My Own said under her breath.
Charles didn’t doubt that. A history surrounded the place, a history of vast knowledge – he felt it, but scolded himself for speculating. He needed answers.
At the front of the building two large stone doors lay broken open, frozen in time. Charles wondered how long it had been since someone stepped over the threshold.
“Follow me through, but be mindful of where you step,” Charles said finding a flashlight in the leg pocket of his pants.
“Hey – that won’t work.” My Own said. “The power is out… remember?”
“This is a self-sustaining flashlight, with a liquid excitation core,” Charles said and shook the light with vigor. “If the water from the pond didn’t damage it…” he turned it on. A powerful light shot ahead of them. He motioned for My Own to follow.
Inside, besides his flashlight, the only other light came through the broken doors. “You think they would have put in a few windows,” My Own muttered.
The first room was cold, and Charles caught the strong smell of ammonia. He hesitated and stalled, holding My Own back. He wondered if they had entered the beast’s lair, but shook off the idea. If this was the beast’s lair, it would have followed us down through the channel… wouldn’t it?
“What is it?”
“Just keep close,” Charles said not wanting to scare My Own with his speculations.
Charles shone his flashlight on a flat control board along the wall. He touched it. A thick layer of dust covered the controls and he wiped it clean. A series of lights flashed on and he studied the lights for a moment, trying to decipher them. He hovered his fingers over the panel and after a few seconds, pressed the control board. Several more lights danced across the flat screen. The display became brighter.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” My Own asked.
Charles ignored her and studied the symbols that appeared on the flat board. Over the years he relied on his computer experts aboard Requiem to study something like the instruments here, but since he didn’t have that luxury or time, he started pressing the controls aware that the wrong sequence could be fatal. Let’s hope I’m not activating a doomsday weapon or something, he thought. The first rule of alien archeology: Touch nothing until properly studied. Rules however were made to be broken… and improvised.
Minutes later one of the walls in the room flashed on. More alien symbols appeared in tandem. Then out of sync, like a heartbeat. Faster and faster the lights blinked, and Charles lost count of the pattern as it flashed on and off. For a minute he thought he might have activated a self-destruct.
When more lights flashed on throughout the ornate room, Charles breathed a sigh of relief. If he had activated a bomb, the last thing they needed would be lights. Unless the previous custodians of the planet had a sick sense of humor and wanted the person who activated the weapon, to have a clear view of their death. He thought and waited a moment more before he handed the flashlight to My Own. “Keep a hold of this in case we need it,” he said. More lights flashed on along the walls. The room became brighter.
“Why are the lights working in here when the power is off all over the planet?” My Own asked.
“I have no idea,” Charles replied and smiled at her. “We’ll worry about that later.”
The walls in the room were splintered with age and reminded Charles of old dry paint. He ran his index finger along the fractures above the flat panel and used his dirty fingernail to chip away flakes off the wall. “I’d say – six to seven thousand years since someone stood here.”
“Besides the power issues, how can this technology work after all that time?”
“I’ve seen alien tech a lot older, work better. Craftsmanship to some of these races was important enough to preserve remnants of their culture. They wanted their history to endure,” Charles said, transfixed on the holographic hieroglyphs in front of him. Some of the alien writings he’d seen before, while others he had not.
My Own leaned over Charles’ shoulder. “I never imagined there were this many species in the galaxy,” she said amazed.
Charles agreed and then put them out of his thoughts. He turned away from the images. Time for that later… More lights flickered on along the outer rims of the walls. Charles and My Own walked deeper into what appeared to be the main chamber. “Activated by movement,” Charles said. “All of this, the flat screen panels, the motion activated lights, reminds me of a planet in stage three development. Which is peculiar considering the scans of the planet showed no other signs of stage three anywhere else.”
My Own shrugged and crinkled her brow. Charles smiled and motioned for her to follow. They found a long corridor leading off from the main chamber, dark and sinister.
My Own flashed the light down the corridor, and asked with an anxious voice, “Are we going down?”
Charles shivered from the nip in the air. He reached his hand forward and found a drastic temperature difference. “It will be cold down there,” he said and looked back, considering his next move. There had to be more to the temple than what he’d found in the main chamber. Has to be… He turned to My Own. “You don’t have to come.”
“Are you kidding?” she said enthusiastically.
“Let’s be careful. We don’t know what we will find down there.”
“I’m ready for anything,” My Own said.
Charles nodded and led the way. Dim lights powered up along the wall struggling to come on. They made a strange hissing noise. The chill in the air became uncomfortable. The temperature dropped thirty degrees in a matter of minutes. Charles saw his breath dance on the flashlights beam. He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Barely any light here professor,” My Own said. The flash light shook in her hand.
Soon the corridor’s appearance changed, the dim light faded to where the flashlight was the remaining source of light. The walls became opaque and slick. Water trickled down from the walls and froze to the floor. Charles slipped but didn’t slow his pace.
The air became denser, and for the first time My Own said, “Maybe we should go back.”
Charles waved a hand at her, and said, “Just a bit further… I want to see where this leads.”
“If we don’t freeze to death first,” My Own said with a chatter in her teeth.
As the stream of water along the walls solidified, Charles slowed. Soon the ice became thicker and thicker until it covered the entire wall.
My Own flashed her light on the ice. She let out a slight yelp. “Professor,” she whispered.
Charles turned. His brow furrowed. He reached out for the ice, hesitated. He looked at My Own, they both stood speechless, staring at the unmistakable images. He took the flashlight from her, stepped forward and rubbed his hands over the sheet of ice; it stung. Charles shined the flashlight into the frozen wall. The glare from his light reflected off the surface. He studied the form encased in the ice. “Jonna!” He rubbed his face in disbelief.
My Own stepped up next to him, and asked, “How is that possible?”
<
br /> Charles checked the next chamber to find another member of his expedition team taken by the invisible beast. He found another and another until he discovered, “Carl.” He searched ahead until he found members from Hyta Winter’s main expedition team – but no sign of Hyta herself.
“Does this mean they’re not dead?” My Own asked.
Charles wished he had the right answer, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to come to some wild assumption or hypothesis. Then he realized… and charged ahead, frantically checking each person encased in the ice, face after face he recognized from his team or the other teams, until he found him, more than a hundred feet ahead, Charles sighed, and said, “Vincent!” he touched the ice, the intense cold burned his hand, he jerked it away. “Vincent!” he called again hoping his old friend heard him. He pounded on the ice, ignoring the pain.
“Is this your friend?” My Own asked leering in at the man entombed in the ice. Vincent Abernathy was older than Charles. He had white, gray hair and narrow facial features. His wire frame glasses were frozen on his face. He wore a yellowish Edwardian tweed suit. A classy appearance, right down to the chain from a pocket watch – that hung across his belly.
“What’s he wearing?” My Own asked.
“Vincent had those clothes made. Said he was a man out of his time. If truth be told, he thought they made him appear smarter,” Charles said and leaned in toward the ice. I’m sorry old friend. Charles’ face hardened, said, “I’m not beaten yet.” He ran up the hall away from My Own, he searched with his flashlight. “Here it is,” he said pointing the beam on a frozen computer terminal.
“Professor your hands,” My Own warned and grabbed his wrists.
Charles’ hands turned blackish-blue, but he ignored the pain, but realized there was no pain, in fact there was no feeling in his hands at all.
“Come on,” My Own said and pulled at Charles’ arm.
“I need to…”
“Not lose your fingers to frostbite. Back to where it’s warm, then we can figure out how to save them.”
Charles struggled with the idea. I don’t want to leave… don’t want to fail…
Origin Expedition Page 29