There was loose soil here and thick moisture hanging in the air; rich with the smells of a living jungle. Mica couldn't help herself but to take samples and a few photos while I stood there wondering how this vegetation could have survived unattended in the middle of this frozen wasteland.
"This was likely some type of arboretum or nursery at one point and time," she noted while referring to the thin crystal walls which allowed the sunlight in through the thin layer of ice and snow, "which seems to have survived from the decay of their own plant matter within this enclosed ecosystem."
"I have never seen these types of vegetation before," Logan exclaimed as he looked through the various species of foliage.
"They likely evolved to survive their environment, similar to many such plants and wildlife species which find themselves trapped on isolated islands," Mica granted, "the decomposition of the plant matter creates methane and heat which can sustain itself in such a sealed biosphere," she added.
"Wait a moment," Logan announced as he held up his finger for us to be silent. We all stood there for a tense second while gripping our silver spears, wondering if he had heard another of those lizard hounds creeping around.
"That ...that sounds like running water," Mica responded after a moment; and we turned ourselves in the direction it was coming from. Trying to get snow pack and ice to melt in my canteen had been an aggravating failure; and we were severely dehydrated despite being surrounded by a continent covered with a literal sea of frozen water.
Pushing our way through the thick foliage, we stumbled across a creek which we concluded had been artificially constructed upon closer scrutiny. The waterway must have been a feeding system to the arboretum long ago, and still maintained that function. Several vines had curled curtains of delicate roots over the gentle stream to gather moisture without blocking the course of the river which ran down the very center of the dome. Backtracking our way upriver, the source of the feed was coming from a large bubble of churning liquid.
"Do you think this well is solar powered or fed by a natural spring?" Mica asked the professor.
"Hard to say," Logan noted as he gazed upon the behemoth sphere, "this civilization seemed to rely on harnessing naturally occurring geomagnetic energies which wouldn't be affected by the amount of ice covering the fortress."
"Maybe the plants adapted themselves to the availability of sunlight," I suggested to them both as the obvious answer.
"Could be," Logan smiled my way for my quick thinking, "the plant life on Earth has survived here a lot longer than mankind."
Mica tested the water for us with a meter from her specimen bag and declared it was safe for us to drink. After taking our fill we followed the creek downstream where it fanned outward from the end of the dome, feeding out along its edges. It was there that we found a garden full of fruits and nuts and vegetables that were barely recognizable to what I had ever seen in a grocery market. These were larger and oddly colored, making them appear quite alien.
"Do you think these are safe to eat?" I asked Mica, who also had a famished look on her face.
"Give me a few minutes to test these," she answered as she pulled out her kit and set it upon the soft ground.
I handed her a few large grape-like berries and shelled nuts from an overhanging tree. I dug up some roots of various plants and other leafy bulbs which look like giant stalks of lettuce. I wasn't much of a gardener myself, but I had seen several greenhouses that were quite impressive. This one had certainly gone feral on its own after countless centuries, but these plants somehow survived the catastrophe that befell the people who had built this nursery.
Mica tested a few of the fruits and berries, after checking them for acidity and toxicity embedded in their chemical proteins. She spat out a few because of the taste, but eventually placed several of the samples I had dug up aside for us to try ourselves.
"This white root here seems to be a species of carrot, I would assume," she stated while showing Logan and I the resulting specimens which passed her initial tests.
"And these berries?" I asked about the brightly red and blue grapes.
"They seem to be fine, though be careful of the thorny seeds," she warned; while noting the leafy greens we were also safe to consume. It wasn't exactly a salad bar, but we were starving at this point; so we took a moment to rest during our exotic picnic.
"One thing seems odd here," I noted while chewing on a root, "is that I didn't notice any bugs."
Looking around for a moment, Mica herself noted that anomaly. Greenhouses were meant to be pest free, but going unattended this long, any botanist might question how the plants achieved pollinated without helpful insects to complete that task. It was a riddle that intrigued both the scientists, but they were happy just to get a fresh meal in their belly.
I scouted the rest of the dome to make sure there weren't any unpleasant surprises waiting for us before we took a nap. It was nice to have a moment of peace, sitting there in the soft soil with the sound of the running water and the fragrance of the flora. The three of us settled down to take a nap after our hastily devoured meal and slept like babies. I awoke in the darkness of night; roused by a low hum in the ground beneath us and a blinking blue light shining from beneath a heavy layer of vines several meters from where we slept.
Without waking the others, I turned on my flashlight and strolled over to find the source of the illumination. Pulling away the overgrown vines and leaves I discovered they had camouflaged a large oval doorway. There was a simple handprint molded into the center of it; so like a curious idiot I place my palm within it its depression.
As I touched the door the blue light above me stopped flashing and turned stable, gleaming brightly like a sapphire and the door folded inward. It was a fleeting moment that I had choosing between waking the others and satisfying this new inquisitive nature Mica had impressed upon me. So I dared to take a peek inside before telling them what I had found. I never heard the silent door as it shut itself behind me, sealing me in.
Within the dimly lit room I crossed a strange circular stone that looked to be made of marble. Its cross section was similar in shape to the first floating stone we had tripped upon below the domed ruins. This stone however, was cut into several sections that interlinked like a puzzle box. Several pieces were of odd sizes that would only fit in certain configurations.
Daring to touch the contraption and pushed the pieces into their allotted slots, I turned the stone block until the segments reached their correct position. Once it was whole, the ivory slab began to slowly spin on its own, seemingly floating on air. It had been crippled as it was, having been dismantled and out of balance before, but now it regained its function. As it turned a bright row of crystals lit up around the console that surrounded it; bathing the small room in a rainbow of colors.
I was surprised when the radio on my belt suddenly turned itself on and began to cycle through the static without my touching it. Picking it up, I tried to see why it was malfunctioning, only to realize the dials weren't responding.
"Come in, can you hear me?" a garbled message cried, but the cycling static seemed to hone in on the transmission, "Walter to Logan team, can you hear me?"
"Yes, yes, is that you Mr. Humphrey? This is Allen, over," I called back.
"So glad to hear your voice ...I lost you there for a while, how is everyone?" Walter asked eagerly.
"We're doing well, actually. We had a few close calls but that story can wait for another time. We lost your signal before; were you able to trace our location?" I inquired with a pinch of hope seeping into my voice.
"I tried to triangulate your location via satellite, but your transmission was blurred by an atmospheric anomaly which made it impossible to pinpoint your position," Walter advised, while I noted that his signal became increasingly clearer as the static disappeared from the transmission.
"We are in an incredible structure comprised of some type of crystal," I tried to explain, but realized that it may look like
any other clump of ice from a satellite image, "...but we're okay for now. Can you get a helicopter to the ship to scan the area for a visual?"
"About that," Walter responded with a hint of dejection in his voice, "we already have a helicopter here to conduct a rescue, but we seemed to be experiencing a series of navigation problems here on the ship. Both the captain and the pilot said they can't rely on their equipment for guidance at the moment. Our electrical equipment seems to have gone a little wacky, and we can't get a bearing by any other means because of the cloud cover surrounding this storm."
"Well, we will see what we can do to locate some sort of landmark for the pilot to hone in on," I answered, reaching for some hope for them not to give up the search, "how are things going on the ship, Walt? I can imagine they are getting antsy to get back to port."
"Actually Allen," Walter interjected, "there was a great deal of seismic activity reported recently at the Bryd Station nearby, which appears to have been followed by an increase in reported quakes worldwide. Meteorological stations across the globe have started to light up with National Emergencies declared in multiple countries over the past 24 hours," Walter mentioned with a touch of worry.
"What's going on?" I asked, but deep down I was worried that what we did to that orb might be the cause of the global disruption he was reporting.
"Seismologist are saying that the initial shockwave originated at the Antarctic, and that the continental shelves have begun drifting at an unprecedented pace. Nobody really knows at this stage, but it looks as if the tectonic plates along the ring of fire are starting to flex," Walter stated, referring to the stretch of volcanoes along the continuous oceanic trench surrounding the Pacific Ocean. It appeared the mantle itself was moving; exactly as Mica had described it. I was hoping she was wrong.
"Is there a way we could get the coast guard out here to sweep the area and find us?" I inquired, which seemed like the most logical choice in this emergency.
"I don't think you understand the situation here, Allen," Walter announced with sympathy creeping into his voice, "Professor Logan made it quite clear that this private expedition was top secret and we were not to contact any government agency for any reason," he finished. Hearing him say that got me angry.
"Are you serious? Neither he nor Tom ever mentioned that to me before I signed on," I barked back, but my temper was starting to become chilled with concern of the growing uncertainty of our rescue; which itself became even more dubious if they refused to call for outside help.
"Yes, I'm very serious, Allen. Logan even had the crew of the ship swear to confidentiality agreements. We are on our own on this one," Walter stated with finality.
Understandably, I was upset to find out about this little quirk which might have been hidden in the fine print ...which I admit I never read in my haste to sign the employment contract. There would be no international air-sea rescue coming to pluck our frosty asses out of this situation. I would certainly have to have a talk with the Professor about this at some point and make him realize that our chances for survival had dropped dramatically because of his paranoia.
"We can attempt a visual survey if we can coordinate a signal at midnight if you can fire a beacon," Sir Walter suggested, but unfortunately we had used the last of our emergency flares.
"Ah, damn; that's not an option," I answered with a sigh, "I'll try to check back at this time in 12 hours, but keep us updated," I pleaded.
"Certainly, Allen. Just squawk me again when you have an open line. I've been on this channel for hours at a time trying to reach you," Walter mentioned to my confusion.
"But I didn't signal you, I was answering your call Walt," I answered to his surprise.
"But I thought you had, there was a radio burst on this dedicated channel so I answered the broadcast," he returned.
"I see..." I answered, trying to search for an answer to how that could have been true, "in any event, we'll check in twelve hours from now, over and out."
I knew I had drained a bunch of juice from the radio battery on that lengthy conversation, and felt strangely uneasy about how this crystal console had initiated a transmission from my radio without my handling it. I couldn't complain that it may have acted like an antenna to boost the signal for us to get in contact; but I had no idea how we could use that to our advantage if the ship couldn't appraise our position. It had become clear that we had triggered something awful that was screwing with the earth's magnetic field, and we were the only ones in the position to correct it.
I started to make my way back to where the others were sleeping, but realized I was now sealed with the small chamber. The hatch to the door was smooth; bare of any handprint controls as I had used on the exterior side. Searching around the room I couldn't spot any controls that might identify what these odd shaped crystal rods might control. Banging loudly on the door came to no result, so I could only hope that Mica and the Professor would see the doorway I had unveiled and open this rat-trap I had gotten myself into.
I eventually gave up trying to yell through the thick hatch door and sat down to take a rest. After what seemed like several hours of waiting I began to worry how much air this little chamber might be holding, and feared I would suffocate to death. My concern for self preservation overcame my apprehension to screw around with the strange controls on the ringed console which surrounded the spinning stone. I got up and looked through the several shades of crystals, having no clue as to what they were for. Eventually, I ended up testing several at random; just to see what they might do in hopes of getting the door open.
After daring to pick a few of the crystal sticks out of their sockets on the console, I decided to interchange a few out of desperation. After a few tries, I noticed that the marble slab in the center of the device began to spin a little slower, so I tried to interchange one of the rods with an entirely different color. To my surprise, a small hidden slate with an embedded handprint rose out of the console at the center of the board, which I hoped was the same key I could use to exit the room.
Placing my hand within it, I looked over my shoulder to see if the hatch to the door was opening. With a frown, I turned forward to notice that the spinning ivory slab had accelerated to a scary speed. Taking my hand off, I suddenly felt the ground beneath me shake and all the lights in the room turned a solid orange hue. With a sigh of relief, I saw the hatch open behind me and I rushed outside just in time to come face to face with Logan and Mica as another small quake rumbled the atrium.
"Where did you disappear too?" Logan spouted with concern as his eyes wandered towards the closing door of the chamber I had left.
"There's a chamber back there, and I was able to reach the ship to talk to Walter. It must be some sort of antenna that allowed us to communicate," I answered the professor, "but I ah ...I may have accidentally set something off when I was trying to open the door."
"This place is where the alpha orb is located Allen," Mica snapped back, "if you say it acted like an antenna, that might mean this is a transmission tower of some type," she finished with a look of worry washing over her face. A of sour sense of guilt sank into my stomach at hearing her words, as I wondered what I might have done to make our situation worse.
Shivers
There was little we could do to correct the mishap resulting from my reckless curiosity. Logan warned against reopening the vault I had entered, in the event one or all of us became entrapped as I had. If that happened, we would only be taking the chance of making the situation even worse. Mica grilled me on what I had seen in the small chamber, so I elaborated on the stone disk I had pieced together and the crystal shards I had experimented with in my efforts to get the door to open.
The truth was, I didn't quite remember which of the crystals I had replaced while I was fiddling around in there; so there was practically no chance that I could reverse what I had done to try and correct it. Logan surmised that even if we did, it was likely too late anyhow. The technology of this ancient society seemed to be t
riggered by manual controls with cascading aftereffects. Luckily, they didn't blame me for my clumsiness; since it could have easily happened to any one of us.
I informed them of what Walter had said about the heightened earthquake activity which coincided with the general timeframe whereby Mica had accidentally triggered the giant spinning orb we had found.
"That sounds like too much of a coincidence and only tends to confirm the professor's theories. The important thing is that we need to locate the alpha orb in this complex and attempt to disable it ...if we can," Logan noted with a shrug.
"Well, what do you think that room was that I was in might have possibly controlled, honestly?" I asked the professor, who had always seemed optimistic with the way he treated others.
"My assistant might have been correct in her assumption that this steeple acts as a transmission tower. If I was to guess, and I am making a wild assumption based on the situational facts; is that they utilize those stone discs as a type of generator used in conjunction with the geomagnetic orbs which harness the natural energy fields of the earth," Logan gave me the long winded version of his hypothesis, "and I wouldn't be surprised by the types of energies they tap that it found a way to link with the crystal within the wiring of your radio; which of course is akin to the control shards you described."
The way the professor described his rationale of how this technology harnessed and redirected natural waves, and the way these ancient people had grown their own minerals in such a controlled fashion, it started to make a lick of sense. My radio had only turned on once I had gotten that stone flywheel going which served to purge any errant static on the channel to reach Walter aboard the ship. Walter had stated that it was I who had first signaled him in that instance; which fit into Mica's theory that the console was a transmission center. The question was; what the hell was it broadcasting?
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