Perhaps this will help you to understand. I wish to share with you the story of Pandora’s Box. It is one of the few Greek stories with a—” the doctor smiled smugly, looking fully like a cat who had caught a mouse, “happy ending.
In Greek mythology, Pandora was a woman created by the gods. At the command of Zeus, each god gave her a seductive gift. The meaning of these gifts is open to varied interpretations, but I base my story upon the most recent find, the Thermopylae texts discovered in 2242, by James Carstairs.
He believed that rather than Pandora being the embodiment of evil as was widely accepted, that instead, Pandora was the embodiment of perfection, goodness and hope.
Physically, the gods endowed her to be supremely feminine, sensually seductive.
They enhanced her mental perfection by stripping her of human frailties, such as greed, vanity and jealousy—replacing it with a spirited, uninhibited boldness.”
Tynabo smiled mischievously.
“She was the Great Goddess, who took the form of a mortal woman. A woman of such great beauty, that when she first appeared to both gods and men, they were seized in wonderment.”
Steven swallowed involuntarily and noticed that he had a lump in his throat.
“According to the texts, when Pandora returns, she will rise from the earth, her hands raised above her head in epiphany, and that she would be the giver of gifts unto men.”
The doctor stopped briefly, seemingly deep in thought. “As for the box itself? It represents both a prison and a salvation.
So, call it what you will, legend, prophecy, fanciful story telling. In the end, the results of seeing fulfillment realized are the same.”
“If he’s saying what I think he is?” said Cole. “He’s got to be fucking kidding.”
Steven’s adrenaline surged. His excitement was uncontainable. The sea of emotions were again welling up inside him. The doctor’s words had inspired a teenage angst that was wresting control from him.
“In the room below, waiting in stasis, your genetically engineered mate, D’na as I fondly call her, awaits you. Her given name is Ashlyn Parker. She is quite literally, in every respect, like Pandora. She is superlatively perfect.” The doctor hesitated, giving Steven a moment for all of it to sink in.
“Damn, they did! They built you your own goddess,” quipped Cole.
Steven swallowed, his mouth was dry, his stomach in knots.
The doctor shifted his weight uncomfortably, “As pertains to you—while your heart may have already led you to this conclusion—yes, you, like Ashlyn—were created here, in this facility. Both of you were created from bits and pieces of the most unique genes that humanity had to offer.”
“Jesus Christ!” said Tomlinson. “You’re a beaker-baby!” Tomlinson’s remark carried the weight of Tynabo’s shocking revelation.
Steven’s knees felt weak, his mind numb.
“Steven, the new sensations you are experiencing are normal and expected. Because of your close proximity to Ashlyn, genetic changes have begun taking place inside you. It is what we call the fugue. Essentially, the fugue is a tool. It is similar to a tuning fork; in so much as it is synchronizing both of your auras—your electrical fields into one.
Understand that together, the two of you are going to become much, much stronger than you are now. In essence, you will be able to feed off the resonant energy field, the life force of the other—but, it goes far beyond a mere doubling of the power from which you can draw your strength. It’s altering you, changing you on a molecular level.
While the quantum physics of our work is extremely complicated—the result of the primary effects are equally, simple.
What all that means is that you have a near limitless potential. It should also be noted that distance has no diminishing effect on this drawing of power. Once connected, you are always connected.”
The doctor’s face grew serious. “You do have an Achilles’ heel, and it’s a big one. Now that your auras have connected, should one of you die, so does the other. It might not be immediate, but it would certainly happen within a matter of weeks.”
Paris, seeing Steven’s trembling hand, “Are you okay, sir?” as she steadied his arm in support.
“I don’t know. I feel like I’m suffocating.” Steven frantically unclasped his helmet and dropped it to the floor, where it rocked back and forth, its spotlight swishing up and down on the wall until it stilled. He took a deep breath, the coldness in the air, bracing him for the words to come.
“As for the completion of the fugue, that will occur the moment the two of you have intimate contact. Hence, my happy ending. It is a mandatory step. It is also the only way to preserve your sanity and bring your abilities to fruition. For now, psychologically, the changes are manageable—but I must caution you, if left unchecked, in the weeks ahead, your biological need to join with her will grow far beyond your ability to resist.
Even as we speak, hundreds of neural pathways are opening. Your thought patterns are deepening—and soon, the two of you will be entertaining theories and ideas that mankind has never dreamed of,” said Tynabo.
“That may explain how you understood the web-song. You’re already changing,” said Stratton.
The doctor then added, “You will, and may have already, experienced what we call, bleeding. If so, know that it is a natural part of the fugue. Bleeding can give you glimpses into Ashlyn’s mind, and she into yours. You will begin to learn and understand things that may be foreign to you, but not to Ashlyn and vice-versa.”
Steven now had his explanation for the things he had seen aboard the transport. Tynabo’s words had lifted the weight of his fear from his shoulders.
Tynabo continued, “Within a few weeks though, should you desire times of privacy, you will develop the ability to open and close the door at will.
I must reiterate. Do not try to resist the fugue—to do so means being driven into a pit of desire and despair from which you cannot escape. Moreover, should you try to resist, you would soon lapse into a coma and die.
As for the physical changes, well, you will discover those in the months and years ahead, but in short, they are herculean. The fugue is making you immensely strong, your adrenaline enabling you to perform great feats. Feats that no human would believe possible.
I also gave you the mental capacity to gage such efforts, to control them. You have the wisdom to use your abilities for the betterment of humanity. I will not lecture you. I will only say—be a good King.
Before I send you off on your journey of self-discovery though, I must give you one last order. I know that I am powerless to enforce it, but it is imperative that you understand the strength behind my conviction. It pertains to the vial in the case. It contains a critically needed dampener that must be taken several hours in advance of your first, physical contact with Ashlyn.
The dampener slows the changes taking place inside you. As each change occurs, you become stronger, both physically and mentally. For your protection, you will lose consciousness for hours or even days at a time. That is why you must put yourself under the watch of a doctor for the next eight weeks.”
Victor Gregor, Steven’s friend and requested medic, sitting safely in the transport high above, was watching and listening to every word. “Hear that Steven? Looks like you’re my new guinea pig.”
Tynabo continued, “Be warned, that if for any reason you don’t take the dampener before your first physical contact with Ashlyn, the result will be instant insanity. Then all of our centuries of work here will have been for nothing.
You should know, that Ashlyn took the dampener at the same time she received the K9 extender, on her 24th birthday.
As for you, unfortunately, due to your personal state of affairs, you didn’t receive the dampener when you took the K9 extender. President Tomlinson said he would discuss the situation with you privately, when next he saw you, but of course, then the attack came.
I am truly sorry that things did not work out as smoothly
as we had planned for you. I know that Ashlyn’s existence will challenge your loyalty, your heart—but I also trust that you will find a solution. Wisdom is one of the things with which you have been endowed.
When you take the elevator to the room below, you will find thousands of occupied stasis chambers.” The doctor again paused, as emotions overtook him. “Out of them, only Ashlyn still lives. The two of you were the last of our children—as we had finally achieved perfection.
The doctor’s head bowed and it was near a minute before he looked up, his tearful eyes full of conviction. “By our choice, we have terminated the life support of our children—our earlier creations. Compared to you and Ashlyn—they were unimportant. As are my wife and I, now—unimportant.”
“He murdered them?—The bastard murdered them all?” said Paris, stunned.
“I don’t expect you to understand our decision, and neither do I ask for your forgiveness. Perhaps someday, you will understand that our actions were mandatory, without prejudice.
It is imperative that you and Ashlyn survive. It is also why on this day, we will join our children in death. We have spent these last months, reprogramming the computer. The system no longer requires human interaction. Every ounce of this facilities power, reserves and oversight is now devoted to Ashlyn’s preservation, which is also your preservation. It is all we have left to give.
We have completed what we set out to do. Few people can make such a claim.”
Tynabo took a moment to himself, before he again continued, “To conclude, the patch in this box is a symbol, Steven. A symbol of humanity’s need to dream, adapt, and reach for the stars. You are our, “One Small Step for Man, but together, you and Ashlyn are our, One Giant Leap for Mankind.
Lastly, to open the stasis chamber holding Ashlyn, you need merely find it. You are the key. The electrical field your mind is emitting is keyed to open it. You might say that it is, mind over matter.
The security system is set to give you 20 minutes from the conclusion of this recording to find Ashlyn. It is more than sufficient.
Steven, you and Ashlyn are more than my creations, you are my children. To know that you are alive and that you have a glorious future ahead is all that a parent can ask for. The universe is yours my son and I wish you well on your journey.
The game is afoot.”
The doctor smiled and bowed goodbye.
Chapter 2
Steven noted that even as Tynabo began to order the recorder to save file, and turn off, he picked up two pills sitting on the desk beside him.
“What did he mean, the game is afoot?” said Hitch.
“Sherlock Holmes,” said Steven, contemplatively. “It means the clock is ticking.”
Perfectly timed, the facilities computer announced, “Self-destruct countdown has begun. T-minus 20 minutes and counting. A verbal update will be given every 5 minutes.”
“And who is Sherlock Holmes?” said Hitch.
“Screw Sherlock Holmes, what in the hell are you going to tell your wife?” said Moore. “Hi sweetheart, there is someone here I want you to meet. She’s my personal goddess and the doctor ordered me to sleep with her or I’ll die.”
“Dammit, Moore,” said Stratton. “I’m going kick you in the balls so hard that the next time you open your mouth, you’ll be spitting out sperm. Sorry, Admiral. It’s my fault for picking his sorry ass for this mission.”
“It’s okay, Stratt,” said Steven. “He’s just saying aloud what all of us are thinking, but you’re right, it will be a problem. Therefore, I am ordering all of you to keep this quiet. If any one of you whispers a word of this, I’ll have all of you flushed out the nearest air lock, is that clear? And I warn you not to put me to the test.”
Everyone gave a verbal acknowledgment that they understood. Steven’s unusually sharp tone requested it.
“Besides, I’m not quite buying into all of this yet. I had parents. They died in the attack same as all of yours did, but if somehow it is true, I have no memory of it,” said Steven, wondering if he was only trying to convince himself.
Two quick chirps sounded, signaling an urgent incoming message.
“This is Sherrah. Go ahead, Sea Base.”
“Admiral, this is Ensign Aaron Williams at Challenger Deep. Commander Brooks asked me to inform you that we just received an emergency update from our Sirius B satellite. It shows a fleet of eighteen ships gathering in preparation to open a jump gate. The time stamp shows the data is thirty-two days old.”
Out of the frying pan and into the fire!
The team, listening in, all spoke over the open comm, commenting on the shitty timing. Avenger was planet side rather than at battle stations. They all knew that if the invasion fleet arrived now, the last surviving humans on Earth would be defenseless.
“Thank you, for the update, Ensign.
Tell Brooks to do a status check on Project Terminus. Let him know that we are at the signals target location and expect to be headed back shortly.”
“Time till self-destruct is T-minus fifteen minutes,” announced the computer.
Robbie,” said Steven over his comm. “If that door isn’t open in ten minutes, pick up Stratton’s team and clear the area.”
“Aye, sir. Ten minutes,” answered Robertson.
“Tomlinson, Hitch, Paris, wait here. If the countdown gets close, increase your dampeners to maximum. There’s a chance it might be enough to protect you.”
“You might need us down there,” said Hitch.
“It’s safer for you to wait here. Tynabo said it had to be me.”
Not wanting to worry the team, Steven hid the fact that their armor had one major weakness. Its nearly inexhaustible energy core quickly freezes in subzero temperatures, rendering it useless.
Locking his helmet into position, “Stratt, you’re in charge up here.” A clap of thunder shook the small building. “And keep me updated on the storm.”
“Sir, the vial,” reminded Tomlinson.
“He’s right, sir. The doctor killed a lot of people to protect the two of you,” asserted Stratton. “It’s important!”
“Understood, but I can’t afford to risk losing consciousness, not now. Not with the enemy fleet, inbound.
Besides, the doc said that I needed to take it before I had physical contact with Ashlyn.” Just saying her name made his heart race. “If we’re taking him literally, I’ll be fine, long as I don’t touch her. I do appreciate all the love though.”
Steven put his armored glove back on and headed to the elevator. He pushed the button. Nothing happened. To his left was a door, its sign read, “STAIRS.”
All right, we’ll do this the hard way.
Like the entry door, Steven had to ram it hard to free it from the ice. Before him, lay a long flight of ice-covered stairs that disappeared into the darkness. “Gena, switch to night vision.”
With the blast of colder air from the room below, “External temperature is minus 114.2 degrees and falling,” announced Gena into Steven’s comm.
When Stratton heard the number, “That’s cold, Admiral—take it slow on the stairs. They’ll be as slippery as a two-bit hooker on prom night.
God-speed, sir.”
Steven gave his team a thumbs up, before he disappeared down the stairwell.
***
“External temperature is currently minus 187.6 degrees,” came Gena’s announcement just as Steven reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Definitely the wrong time for the elevator to be broken,” thought Steven, shivering. He had counted the stairs. Eight flights of fifteen stairs each. He could only hope that Tynabo had allowed time to overcome any possible chaos.
“Time till self-destruct is T-minus ten minutes,” announced the computer.”
The yellow warning light inside Steven’s helmet began flashing. His energy core was already beginning to fail from the frigid temperatures, not to mention, the armor’s heating unit was drawing power at an alarming rate. He was shivering, unable to
stop himself.
The room at the bottom of the stairs was of such immense size, that even the highest setting of night vision could not illuminate the other side. Like something out of a B horror flick, a thick layer of dense fog clung to the ground, and rising up out of the fog, he saw endless rows of frost-laden cryogenic stasis chambers.
“Welcome to the flip-side of r-reality. You’ve just entered the T-twilight Zone,” said Steven, in a good rendition of Rod Serling’s gravelly voice over his open comm. His broken speech had begun to reflect just how cold he really was.
“Make it quick Admiral or you’ll find yourself in that flip-side of reality, permanently,” said Stratton who was listening in from upstairs, “No movement on the spiders yet, but the wind is really kicking up. So we know they’re close.”
Standing three meters away from the nearest chamber, Steven slowly spun, letting the pull he felt point him in the right direction. His fingers were already throbbing with pain, his legs shaking. He focused, trying to block out the loud whooshing noises created by the ruptured coolant lines in the room. The area around him grew quiet, still.
He could feel her. With each throbbing beat of his heart, she was beckoning him to her side. He started forward, moving at a quickening pace through the rows. The darkness was deep and he had nothing to guide him but his heart.
The strength of his yearning and his need to be with Ashlyn carried all the weight and desire of a life-long obsession.
Suddenly, the room lit dimly from end to end. Steven looked around and was surprised to see just how large the room really was. As he had suspected, a series of large quakes that had been shaking everything from Wyoming to Colorado over the last years had at some point, ruptured the cryo’s coolant delivery system. Several plumes of freezing coolant had formed tall stalagmites on the floor, spewing the coolant into the air like miniature volcanoes.
The lights above dimmed and began ebbing, straining valiantly to stay lit. “Warning, stasis chamber power will be exhausted in T-minus three minutes, resulting in cryogenic stasis chamber failure. Initiate manual emergency resuscitation procedures immediately,” boomed the computer voice as the lights above him flickered, fighting to stay on.
EARTH'S LAST WAR (CHILDREN OF DESTINY Book 1) Page 4