The Thrones of Eden 3 (Eden)

by Rick Jones

  With his hands reaching around the staff, he gave it a tug. Since the corpse’s bones had grown brittle over time and the skin had come to bear the toughness of old parchment, he was able to pull the staff free without a problem.

  When he did the world began to shift.

  And Mintaka began to flex its muscles.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  The ceiling began to split open like the roof of an observatory, that cyclopean eye peeling back.

  They looked up, but saw little or no advantage of escape since the opening was 10 meters above them, about thirty-five feet.

  Savage swung his weapon and struck a cobra viciously hard, only for more cobras to take its place. “Everyone,” he yelled, “into the sarcophagus!” Savage quickly aided Alyssa inside, the ribs of the body caving beneath her weight as plumes of dust coughed up from its torso. Hillary and the minister were next, soon followed by everyone else, a total of seven people finding enough refuge and space inside a sarcophagus that now served as a lifeboat on dry land.

  The hole above them was circular. But it was Alyssa who noted that it was approximately the same size and circumference as the stage.

  Hillary still held the staff. It was the key that started this, he determined. When he extracted it from the grip of the body’s hand he had triggered a final device. So he closed his eyes and waited as he held the staff close to him.

  The cobras began to gather at the base of the sarcophagus, their bodies brushing against its walls, their diamond-shaped heads exploring, tongues lashing, their olfactory senses trying to make sense of their new surroundings.

  Then the stage began to slowly turn in the methodic rotation of a screw. Then the motion picked up and moved faster, the stage beginning to rise to greater heights, spinning.

  It was rotating from its base; the platform climbing toward the circular hole in the ceiling the same way a piston rod is punched into a valve. It was picking up speed and momentum, the centrifugal force growing, the world around them starting to become a rotating blur.

  Alyssa reached for Savage. “John!”

  He grabbed her hand. “Get down!”

  The mummified body smelled of old dirt and must, the bones so brittle beneath everyone’s weight that it had been decimated, the skull collapsing like an eggshell.

  The stage rotated and began to spiral upward, the centrifugal force eventually whipping the snakes off the platform where they fell into the depths of thickening smoke.

  John and Alyssa were now looking skyward as the stage entered the open cylinder, a perfect fit. There was nothing above them but darkness that was completely and utterly black.

  The spiraling forces were almost too much to handle as their stomachs began to clench.

  Then they saw it, their lamps flashing on an approaching ceiling which seemed to be closing in on them much too quickly.

  John draped himself over Alyssa, realizing that a sudden stop would launch them from the sarcophagus and to an apex point where gravity would eventually take over and allow them to fall back to earth.

  Then the platform began to slow, its rotation becoming sluggish until it stopped altogether. Above them the star-point glitters weren’t stars at all, but another facsimile of the universe where the chamber’s ceiling served as a celestial atlas. In comparison to other charts, this one served to showcase the star of Alnitak, which was a fist-sized piece of crystal that was surrounded by innumerable cuts of smaller chips and nuggets.

  Everyone slowly got to their feet with their eyes heavenward.

  Nausea and dizziness eventually passed as everyone exited the sarcophagus. The celestial boat had served them well. Symbolically speaking, God had come to His journey’s end, to a chamber near the temple’s cap, to the star of Alnitak.

  The body of Anu had been decimated, portions of it turning to dust and leather strips of flesh. Its bones had crumbled beneath their accumulated weights. And its skull resembled nothing more than a broken bowl that one might find at an ancient burial site.

  The Culture Minister of Turkey was beside himself, as was Hillary, the men looking as if they were about to break as they gazed regretfully into the sarcophagus and at the remains, both considering that a true treasure had been lost.

  Alyssa, on the other hand, was looking at the atlas above her. If there was one thing she understood, it was that these overhead maps were a directional listing of some kind. Alnitak was the ‘showcased’ star that was surrounded by the glitter of crystals. The Alnitak crystal flared brilliantly as it absorbed the beam of her flashlight.

  John stood beside her, not caring that the Culture Minister and Hillary were in the agonizing throes of regret for the loss of Anu’s carcass, the men spouting off in a series of disbelieving ‘oh no’s.’

  Demir was on a knee examining the surrounding floor. He could not find a seam or hairline fissure that divided the platform from the floor of the chamber. It was as if the sarcophagus’s landing had fused with this level, the floors uniting as one and becoming a perfect seal against the pooling smoke below. For the moment Demir felt safe. So he got to his feet and looked to what everyone else was looking at, the ceiling.

  The three major stars of the Orion Belt—Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka—were configured in such a way that they appeared as an arrowhead, a directional pointer, with Alnitak serving as the tip.

  “It’s a directional indicator,” she said.

  “To where?” asked John.

  Everyone directed their lights forward until it became a shared beam. Ahead of them was a trapezoidal opening in a wall that led to a corridor that appeared to descend downward by marginal degrees, a trivial slant. Above the door was the symbol Ƣ, which represented the word Alnitak.

  Alyssa knew that they had come to Anu’s celestial point of Heaven within Mintaka, a short voyage. But she also knew that this was much more than just a symbolic locale of life after death as well, the journey in itself more than just a tomb beneath a gorgeous lay of crystal to give off the impression of Anu’s point of origin. It was also God’s gateway to the realm of His creations in Alnitak, to the thrones of Eden. The body had been purposely elevated from the lower chamber to a point that would enable Him to look downward upon His created children of the Second Coming, a paternal figure lying in gentle repose but existing all the same.

  Alyssa moved closer to the gateway, to the opening, and flashed her light down the corridor. The walkway was angled downward, the floor level and smooth.

  “Now what?” said Demir. The tone of his voice was obviously that of defeat, the soldier seeing nothing but endless trails and venues offering death.

  “Does your minister still have the laser measurer?” she asked.

  Demir conversed in Turkish, the minister galvanizing himself as he rummaged through his backpack and produced the unit, holding it out in display. After Demir told him what he wanted, the minister set up the device on a mini-tripod, directed it down the corridor, and clicked it on. The numerical LED readout was flashing, the numbers growing and speeding along until it stopped at 5.1.

  “Five-point-one,” said Hillary, doing a quick calculation. “Is that right?”

  Demir translated and came back with an answer. “It’s never done him wrong,” he said.

  “Then if that monitor is reading correctly,” he began, “then that means that there isn’t an obstruction for three miles.”

  “The shortest distance between two points,” said Savage, “doesn’t seem so short, does it?”

  “The question is, what’s the obstruction?” asked Demir. “But I guess the answer would be is that we don’t have a choice otherwise.”

  “It’s Alnitak,” Alyssa stated simply. “That symbol above the doorway. It’s marking the passageway to Alnitak the same way the marking above the door in the abyss led into Mintaka. They’re connected.”

  “What’s connected?” asked Savage.

  “The three temples.” She looked down the corridor, a straight line into darkness. “The three te
mples of Eden, which also resemble the positions of the three temples of Giza as well as to represent the placement of the three major stars in the Orion Belt, are most likely Anu’s place of origin. But this tunnel, after Hillary discovered the fractured tunnel that led from Eden to Mintaka, we now discover this to be a channel that runs from Mintaka to Alnitak, which tells me that these temples are all connected.” She turned to the ceiling and reflected her light against the celestial design, but more specifically, to the connect-the-dots outline of crystals that ran from one star to the next, from one temple to the next, giving it that isosceles arrowhead look. The rows of stars connecting the temples were also charting out the tunnel-ways that connected the temples together like tramway routes.

  Obviously they couldn’t move backward.

  But they could certainly move forward.

  Alyssa slowly closed her eyes as a preamble of a smile rounded out the corners of her lips.

  Not only was this the gateway that would lead them to the secrets of Alnitak, it was also a way out of Eden.

  Her smile broadened.

  PART III

  THE KEEPERS OF THE THRONES

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  As the laser suggested, there was an obstruction three miles down the tunnel. The walk, however, was easy on Hillary’s legs as the corridor slanted in a continuously downward angle.

  But the closer they got to the tunnel’s end, a steady hum vibrated through the air in concussive waves that could be felt against their skin.

  They remained cautious, their steps becoming smaller as they carefully approached a doorway of an unknown composite.

  The hum grew louder.

  And their senses began to heighten.

  “What’s that noise?” offered Hillary, whispering.

  No one answered because no one could.

  With tentative steps, they inched their way deeper until they could go no further.

  The doorway was bullet-shaped but arched to a point. Above the arch was the symbol of Alnitak, the symbol Ƣ. And beneath that was an archaic stanza Alyssa could not make sense of since the symbols, markings and cursives were completely unfamiliar to her.

  “Do you know what it says?” asked Hillary.

  She shook her head. “I’ve never seen anything like it anywhere before,” she answered.

  The humming remained as a steady drone, a ceaseless melody that was becoming all too grating to the ears.

  But when Savage reached out and grabbed the gateway’s latch the humming stopped.

  Everyone looked around, expecting the worse.

  But when Savage released the latch the humming started again at the same level of noise—that flat-line intensity of a waspy hum.

  What the—

  The moment he grabbed the latch for a second time the humming immediately stopped. “This isn’t good,” he commented.

  “I thought it might have been the passing of air through vents and openings—a soughing, if you will, of the wind. But I’m starting to think it’s something otherwise.”

  “Like a generator, maybe?”

  Hillary remained quiet.

  Demir placed a hand against the door. The composite had an odd feel to it. Although it was solid in appearance, it felt gelatinous even though the surface of the door did not bend or yield to his touch. It remained solid. So his senses of sight and touch were not in sync.

  After he removed his hand he asked Savage to do the same. When Savage did the humming started right up.

  “A warning mechanism.” Demir offered this as a statement rather than a question.

  But Hillary responded anyway. “If it is, then I would hate to think of the technology behind it.”

  Demir turned to Savage, each man knowing what the other was thinking. They couldn’t retreat, so the only recourse left to them was to venture beyond this doorway.

  The exact moment Savage placed his hand on the door the humming stopped.

  And for a long moment Savage pondered whether or not the next move would prove to be a fatal one. They had run the gamut in Eden, then in Mintaka, each time skating by the thinnest margin with their lives always in the balance. Would Alnitak be any different? Savage had no reason to believe that it would. But they had no choice, either. Alnitak was the final temple, their last bastion of hope for finding a way out of Eden.

  After a long pause he pushed and the door opened easily, giving them uncontested access to Alnitak which—and without providing them with a challenge by way of a riddle—struck them as odd.

  When everyone was inside, the door swept softly behind them and closed with a hollow click that sounded final.

  They were locked in.

  Savage and Demir tried the door and found it immovable, the door firmly in place. More so, neither man could find a seam that gave any indication that a door was there at all. It was now a solid wall.

  “Well,” said Savage, “it appears that Alnitak is not going to give us any alternatives either.”

  Demir withdrew his knife and turned it over in his hand, examining it. It was the only weapon he had. It was the only weapon that any of his men carried, their assault weapons having run dry of ammo. And though KA-BARs had their advantages, he also knew that they had their disadvantages as well. Unlike firearms, they never ran dry. But the huge disadvantage was that battles had to be fought in close proximity. Worse, knives were completely useless against hordes of creatures of overwhelming numbers. And then he faced Savage once more as he slid the knife neatly into its sheath. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” he said.

  John looked at the knife, then at the man, realizing that the team was running on empty. Should they be confronted by something hidden in the shadows of Alnitak, their chances of survival would be extremely limited.

  Savage then gave the commando a small inclination of his head, the meaning behind the gesture saying: it’ll be fine.

  But Demir was a seasoned soldier who knew better, so he offered nothing in exchange.

  As they pressed forward Alyssa took point, flashing her light into the shadows, the beam barely penetrating or offering any clues as to what lie beyond the veil of darkness.

  But the further they penetrated into Alnitak the more they became in tune with their surroundings.

  Outlines and images of things began to take shape within the scopes of their lights.

  As the light beams scanned from left to right, from ceiling to floor, eyes flared with great measures of disbelief.

  Everyone remained as still as statues as their lights focused to a concentrated beam that settled against designed products created by lost technology.

  Suddenly a mutual thought settled in Alyssa and Savage’s mind: Alnitak was neither a temple nor a tomb.

  It was a lab.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Rows of stasis chambers filled with an amniotic-like fluid spotted the floor of a massive chamber that was as large as several football fields sitting end to end. Though Alnitak was the smallest of the three temples in Eden, it was still equal in size when compared to Khufu in Egypt. So this particular area, as large as it was, was most likely one of many inside Alnitak.

  Feeling unsettled with what they were surrounded by, Demir and his two remaining teammates removed their knives and readied themselves.

  Savage and Alyssa, with Hillary and the Culture Minister in tow, headed to the closest stasis bin.

  Inside the container and floating within fluid that had the thickness and consistency of molasses, was a body that was approximately seven-and-a-half feet in height, but folded into a fetal position. It was hairless and waxy in appearance, and its skin was milky and translucent with tracks of navy-blue veins coursing through its entirety. The breadth of its shoulders and the width of its chest were wide and barrel-like. And the angles of its face and the design of its musculature denoted complete maturity.

  Alyssa placed a hand against the wall of the glass-like compound that was truly alien in its texture. “John, do you see this?”


  He nodded. “It’s very reminiscent of the chambers we found inside the ship beneath the Yucatan Peninsula, isn’t it?”

  “They’re very close. And this thing inside . . .” She cut herself short.

  “I know,” he told her. “It’s very . . . human.”

  The body floated lazily within the thick fluid, almost dreamily. Stretching from the chamber’s ceiling to its mouth and nose region was an accordion-like tube and nasal mask that inflated and deflated in even measures like lungs. As the tube expanded and contracted, so did the chest of the being.

  “My God,” said Hillary. “It’s alive.”

  “They’re all alive,” Savage stated evenly. He then allowed his gaze to follow the multiple rows of containment bins that eventually disappeared into a distant wall of darkness. In his mind he knew that the mechanical wombs numbered into the thousands.

  These were the Children of the Second Cycle.

  “These containment bins,” said Savage as he addressed Alyssa. “And what’s in them. They’re the thrones of Eden according to the stanzas, aren’t they?”

  She nodded. “And those who sit upon the thrones of Eden shall reign in the year 2021.”

  Demir stepped forward. “So this is our future? This is the new humankind?” Then with carefree smugness: “They don’t look so tough.”

  Savage turned on him. “You don’t get it, do you? These things are alive and they’re far superior to us. And for whatever reason these beings will rise the moment we die off in the year 2021. The question is: why and how is that going to happen?”

  “Do you not see the advantage we have over these things since they are not active?” Demir circled the stasis bin for closer examination. From what he could see they were physically superior, and perhaps more intelligent as well. “When the advantage is ours,” he added, raising a closed fist, “then we take it.”