“Who were they?” I ask, motioning to the bodies.
Rand steps over and joins me, speaking softly. “Some were great men and women of history, but most were just your average joe, trying to live their own lives in peace. If you truly saw the necropolis with your own eyes—”
“I did. The priests showed me. It was truly beautiful.”
“Yes, it was,” he agrees. “The fruit trees…”
“With the golden flesh inside,” I say. “The granny smith apples were delicious.”
“How…?” he asks, facing me.
“I had a living dream. It was so real. I even saw the people—the families. They were just going about their everyday lives, having picnics and smiling and laughing. Children played beneath the calm canopy like all kids do, chasing and teasing each other. It was the second time I met the three protectors in here.” I tap my forehead. “They contacted me in my dreams and told me of your people’s history—Nannot included.”
“Your species isn’t the only one with its problems…or its secrets.” He holds up his hand and I see the Elixir pulsate through his veins.
I look behind me and see Nicole standing still as stone. She then nods, answering the question I was about to ask her.
“Okay,” I say, holding out my hand.
“Okay?” he asks, taking it.
“We’ll help,” he smiles and shakes it hard. “But first we need your help.”
Nicole steps up next to us. “We need information.”
His right eyebrow goes up. “About what?”
THE ORDER
9
Location Unknown
He gritted his teeth as an incredibly thick needle was plunged into his neck. Though he was used to the injection, the initial sting of it piercing his skin still gave him the chills. It was a treatment he’d gone through many times before.
But that was only the beginning… Next, came the really painful part.
His medical team had prepped his body for the wave of convulsions that would follow once the plunger was fully depressed. He even gripped the armrests of the chair he was bound to like it would do him any good.
He knew better, though. Nothing would work against the agony he was about to go through. The Panacea would most definitely extend his life, but it came with a cost.
Torment.
While not as powerful and natural as Rand Intari’s Elixir of Life, the Order’s version of the serum served its purpose still, elongating the lives of those deemed worthy.
Some even died immediately after the age-correcting mix was administered, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut. He could feel the thick silvery fluid enter his bloodstream, adhering to every cell it touched. It would then attack his nervous system on the way to his brain.
A small price to pay for immortality.
Behind his still closed eyelids, he could just make out the Panacea’s pulsating metallic properties. Why it turned the color upon its creation, they had no idea. It was supposed to be gold.
The color of the gods.
“Rrrrarg!” he shouted, thrashing violently in his chair. He didn’t move, of course, being strapped in place, but his body shook as it fought against the thick leather bonds. He knew what he looked like from watching others receive the treatment. That, and studying the recordings of every injection since the technology to re-watch such events was created.
Before the video recorder was invented, they could only view it live in person and take notes before the subject perished. They would never test a new formula on one of their own, though. Their agents would go out in the world and…acquire…subjects to test on. Then, once the newest Panacea proved stable, they would administer it to everyone involved in their plans.
Unfortunately, even the blood of some of the strongest surviving An’taleans have rejected the serum over the years. There was no way to guarantee its effectiveness. Even two of the Order’s original council members succumbed to it over the years.
The Order… he thought, feeling his organs boil. Even though the original council was twelve in all, six of which voted on the behalf of Thoth, the surviving four that went against the king still referred to themselves as such.
The Order of An’tala, he again thought to himself. He found concentrating on something besides the pain would help the horrible sensation pass. Then, he’d be released from bondage and go about his daily routine.
Hunting down and capturing Rand Intari.
You will be ours, Architect. Soon you and your Elixir of Life will be ours. Where have you hidden it?
But there was another mission as well. The other six Order members, not including Rand, were to be hunted and killed. Intari mustn’t have any allies from the past. The Order felt that if he had to rely on his present-day contacts, they would have an easier time tracking him down. Using what the modern world gave them, as far as intelligence gathering was concerned, was truly a blessing.
And we have agents everywhere…
That they did. Most were just your run-of-the-mill goon-for-hire, unknowingly serving the Order as nothing more than a modestly paid, and very expendable, informant. But not all were human. Some were of An’talean blood—and even a few born within the kingdom’s walls.
Like Gerard.
He was their best and most cunning—ruthless even. He’d do whatever was necessary for the Order to succeed. He’d stolen items of value during the Crusades, kidnapped enemies during the Spanish Inquisition, and even murdered others throughout time—and not just during historical events either. Gerard’s shape-shifting abilities were truly unique and his services irreplaceable. It’s why he was sent to pursue the Architect all those years ago.
The only time he’d ever come in was to receive the latest treatment. Then, he’d be right back out in the world doing what he did best, hunting. He reacted the worst to the injection too, but it wasn’t because of the pain it caused. No, Gerard hated the fact that they had to rely on Rand’s diluted blood to survive. He knew, as did the others in, and serving, the Order, that they wholly relied on the fugitive for survival. They knew that without him, none of them would live to see the next cycle of Panacea serum.
For with each inoculation, the person would become immune to it. Re-administering the same variant didn’t work and they were running out of options.
They needed Rand in their possession alive. Now.
You will tell us our secrets o’ Great Architect of An’tala.
He felt his body slowly start to come out of it and he relaxed for a beat. After feeling his pulse normalize, Anepou Ansah, overseer of the Order of An’tala opened his silver swirling eyes, feeling his strength return with every passing moment. Flexing his arms, he tore out of his restraints, stood, and ripped the modified dental chair from its mount, tossing the normally heavy piece of equipment aside like it weighed nothing.
Breathing hard, he fell to one knee as he heard a set of footsteps cautiously approach him. He stood and let the crude hospital gown fall to the floor, revealing his naked, younger self. His impossibly dark skin glistened with sweat, as he made eye contact with the only other person in the room. She’d seen him transition many times before, undergoing the changes herself just as many times.
“How do you feel?” she asked, taking notes of his recovery.
“Fine, Gwyn…” he replied, grinning ear-to-ear. “Just fine.”
A phone chirped at the rear of the room and Gwyn spun to retrieve it. As she walked the twenty-foot distance, Anepou landed directly between her and it. Not one to be startled by anything, Gwyn, instead, shook her head and smiled at his macho display of youth. She then turned and headed out of the room as the phone rang again.
“Yes,” Anepou said, knowing only one person alive that had the number.
“Intari escaped.”
“This is most…unpleasant, Gerard,” Anepou replied, squeezing the phone harder.
“It’s nothing to worry about, though,” Gerard added. “He escaped into a lower chamber beneath the pyrami
d. I can’t follow, but I have an idea where it may exit.”
“Very good then,” Anepou said, ending the call with one quick crushing blow. He calmed and dropped the obliterated cell phone, seeing his reflection in the mirror in front of him.
His obsidian colored body was covered in the swirling text of his homeland. Those on the outside who’ve seen the text in other forms believed it to be the written language of God and his angels. A rare find for sure, and when it's seen, it's quickly destroyed, or at the very least, covered up. He grinned as he continued to study his chiseled frame, looking very much like a statue dedicated to that of a Greek god. He smiled at the thought of the Olympians, recalling how he personally created one of the myths along with a handful of others around the world.
“My rage is legendary,” he said, flexing his upper body. He stepped forward and stopped as his bare foot came down on the mangled phone. He smiled at the sight and thought back to the call. “…and you will see it personally Architect.” The man’s nickname rolled off his tongue with disdain. He kicked the device’s broken remains against the wall and ground his teeth in anger, clenching his fists.
Anepou turned and headed for the medical suite’s exit, looking up through its camouflaged skylight as he did. He would soon join Gerard in his quest and finally put an end to the hunt.
He would personally put an end to Rand Intari and anyone else who stood in his way. Once he tortured the location of the Elixir out of the man, he’d throw the undying immortal into a furnace and listen with glee to his pleas for death as he healed and then recooked over and over again.
10
Beneath Chichen Itza, Yucatan
“So,” I ask, “how many ancient sites are you actually responsible for? Were they all of your design, or did humanity eventually take it upon themselves?”
Rand and I slowly walked through the waterless cenote’s gilded crypts like two chums. Every so often, I get a second set of eyes looking at me from someone long dead. It’s horribly unnerving and unfortunately unavoidable. Each time I look away, I find another set staring back at me.
Except for the guy that looked like a pirate… He only had one eye.
Nicole and Nando are back up on the ledge, going through what little supplies Rand collected over the years. It’s not much, but some of it could be useful.
“First question…” he answers, looking over a particular body. It looks to be someone from ancient Egypt—a royal maybe. “I’d be lying if I told you I remembered them all. I’ve been alive so long that I stopped counting. But I’d put the number in the hundreds at least, maybe more. Even when I revisit one I built, it’s hard for me to recall creating it.”
Hundreds… I think, shaking my head.
“Why do you think there are so many similarities between the world’s ancient structures? Did everyone just decide to build pyramids out of the blue, or did they have someone guiding them along? Egypt, India, China, and Greece… They all use a version of the sphinx. What of the funny looking dolmens around the globe?”
“Dolmens?” I ask, not being able to recall the term.
“You know, the odd-looking rock piles that look like the pi symbol. The 3.14 kind, not the edible one… Two upright stones holding up a larger, horizontal one.”
“You mean portal tombs?” I ask.
“Yes, it’s another name for it. There’s a famous one in Ireland.”
“What about the variety of figures that have their tongues sticking out?” I ask. It’s weird imagery and one that fascinated Dad for years.
But he doesn’t answer me. Instead, he only blushes, obviously embarrassed at the upcoming explanation.
“What?” I ask, intrigued further.
His flushed cheeks deepen another shade. “I may or may not have always been of the clearest mindset in my younger years.”
“You were a drunk and thought it was a good idea to design figures with their tongues sticking out of their mouths?” I ask, laughing.
“Yes, but it wasn’t always the drink I favored. Plus, the people of the region didn’t know any better.”
Snickering, I get off the subject, not needing to know what potentially lethal narcotics the man once had in his system while thinking up such proposals. Either way, it’s not like he could die. Rand may have been drinking a cocktail laced with arsenic or mercury for all I know.
“Why did you copy your work so many times over?”
He shrugs. “Do you think you could do what I did and not run out of original ideas? We are talking a few thousand years’ worth.”
I burst out in laughter. “The great architect of the world ran out of ideas.”
“The second question…” he says, blowing past my reaction and continuing on. “Mankind did eventually construct some of the lesser monuments with my influence. While impressive, they aren’t what you’d call legendary—or even wondrous.”
“Wondrous?” I ask. “As in the Seven Ancient Wonders?”
He only smiles and looks back at the body—the Egyptian. “You see this man, Hank?”
I nod. “What about him?”
“He was in line to be pharaoh at one point, but before he could be anointed as such, he died suddenly—overnight.”
“How?” I ask, intrigued.
He shrugs. “No idea. Illness isn’t my forte. The point is that life can be taken away just as easily as it can be given—”
“Most would say easier,” I add, thinking of Dad again.
“What is it?” Rand asks, seeing my soured expression.
“My dad was my hero and also my boss. He’s the one who got me into archaeology after my first career failed.” I quickly give Rand the Cliff’sNotes version of my past. “He was taken away in a blink of an eye.” I tilt my chin at the body. “My first overseas job was helping him investigate a find in Egypt. I got really sick and thought I was going to die. I’ll never forget my dad’s face.”
“Why?” Rand asks.
“It was the first time I’d ever seen him genuinely terrified for my life.”
“Must be nice,” Rand says, staring into the dead man’s empty eye sockets.
“What, death?”
He nods and looks at me. “Hank… The only reason life is so precious is because it inevitably ends. If it never ends…” he looks down and steps away, “…then why should you continue to go about living at all?”
“I don’t follow.”
He smiles. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” He steps up to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Death is the ultimate fear in life—regardless of your beliefs. Hank…I can’t die…”
“Therefore you can’t truly live,” I say, getting it. “You’ve never truly lived a day in your life.”
The depression now pours out of him as he turns and heads away. Not knowing what to say, I instead ask him another question. Hopefully, it’ll turn his attention from his wallowing sadness. “Speaking of that… Were you ever human at one point?”
He nods as we turn down another row of golden tombs. “The original settlers of An’tala, myself included, were all human in the beginning. Thoth called out to humanity one night, connecting to a few of us by way of some type of connection within our minds.”
“He mentally hacked your brains?” I ask. Then, I think back to Babel. “Just like the Source Stone in Enki’s ship.”
“Yes,” he says. “Apparently, when Thoth ingested the pure stone, some of its properties transferred to him.”
“But why so few people?”
He shrugs. “I have no clue, but we answered, drawn to him like a beacon. I remember thinking about him and nothing else. I even…”
“What?”
“I even left my family behind and never looked back.”
“Oh…” I say, unsure of what to say next. “That’s what really upsets you, isn’t it?”
He softly smiles, saying yes without actually saying it. “When he showed me what he had planned, I literally walked out of my home and never—not once—looke
d back, never thinking of those I left behind. It wasn’t until years later that I remembered them.”
“Did you ever go check on them?” I ask.
He nods silently but doesn’t answer. And he doesn’t have to.
Dead.
He clears his throat. “There was only a handful of us who were truly immortal. I was the only council member obviously, having the Elixir flowing through my veins.”
“And the priests,” I add, “including Nannot.”
“And whoever Nannot gave the ability to with his experiments.”
“Coaxoch and the Judges,” I say, trying to think of any others. I can’t recall any others, but then again, I haven’t exactly been at this for that long. There could be dozens more that I’d never know about.
“Yes, them too,” he agrees. “Whether there are more or not, I don’t know.”
“What about them?” I ask, motioning to the bodies around us.
“No,” he replies, “none of them were immortal, though, some did live unnaturally long lives after being exposed to the fruit trees’ power. The changes affected everyone differently in the end. There was no way to know what exactly would happen with such crude knowledge of what we were really doing. Most of it was trial and error honestly.”
Makes sense, I think, it was thousands of years ago after all.
“And me?”
“What about you, Hank?”
“Do you know what really happened to me? Was it really the spirit of the Atlantean king that invaded my mind and made me into an honest-to-God superhero?”
“Sort of,” he replies. “From what I understand it's actually the consuming of the Elixir that does it. Anyone who ingests it has the same thing happen to them that Thoth and I did, only on a much smaller scale.”
“Smaller scale?” I ask. “But the things I could do—”
“Was only the tip of the iceberg, Hank. If you had the abilities now, here, I could have shown you so much more.”
I shake my head. “No thanks. I’m good being me.” I look at another of the bodies. “Although…”
Elixir of Life: A Novella (A Hank Boyd Adventure - Book 4) (The Hank Boyd Adventures) Page 7