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Episode 103 |
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“I’ve been digging in crates, Ever since I was living in space, Before the rat-race, Before monkeys had human trace.” Linkin Park, High Voltage From any other angle, it would have appeared to be a
shadow. The opening in the surface of the pocket-marked ground
was hidden by the natural fall of the nighttime light. What appeared to be nothing more than
shadow was a small cave opening barely larger than a doorway. Alex stood with Til at the entrance, both considering
it with Androkles behind them. “What
do you think?” Alex asked. “If it’s a trap, it’s a good one,” the thick German
said. “I don’t see how they could set
up much here.” Alex looked back at Androkles. He motioned to the doorway, the young boy
nodding. Alex looked back at the
doorway, then to the boy. “Why don’t
you go first,” Alex suggested, stepping out of the way. Androkles looked at Alex, then the
doorway. He took a step towards it,
getting a confirming nod from Alex.
The boy started walking normally. Alex looked at the others. “Okay,” he said. “Here we go.” He stepped into the cave. The coral gave way to rock and stone. The passage’s surface slowly smoothed, but
was still natural. Alex followed
behind Androkles, the flashlight from his gun leading the way as Til stayed
at his back. Emma’s flashlight kept
Jason close to her, while Isaiah trailed in the shadows, staying just outside
the circle of light. The walls of the cave began to smooth more. The natural rock evolved slowly into a cut
and polished hallway. “Alex, can we
slow down?” Emma called. He glanced
back at her, then caught Androkles’ shoulder. Emma turned her light to the wall and the images
painted on it. She brushed her
fingertips over the images of vegetation and landscape. She looked at her fingertips, then at
Alex. “This paint shouldn’t have
lasted. It should have eroded away,
especially since it was underwater.” “This place wasn’t underwater,” Til said
certainly. “There’s no evidence of
overgrowth or even moisture.” Emma considered the art for a minute longer. “Think it’s Roman or whatever?” Jason
asked. “I don’t know,” Emma laughed. “The most I know about Roman art is that
they did lots of naked men and that always gave me a giggle in school.” “Come on,” Alex said, motioning back down the tunnel. They heard the entrance before they reached. The hallway emptied out into a large chamber. With Doric columns that extended the length
of the square room, several doorways led off into darkness. At the far side of the room, another
passageway was lit, several people walking about. Androkles called suddenly, racing ahead of the
others. Til moved to catch him, but
Alex grabbed his hand, stopping him.
The boy raced into the room, the two adults turning as he
approached. The woman’s face lit up
and she exclaimed. She dropped to her
knees and embraced him desperately.
Standing over the two, the man looked angry, though relieved. Androkles began to speak quickly to the two, but the
woman interrupted him. She pointed a
delicate finger at him and started to yell, her eyes filling with tears. Her voice developed an edge of hysteria
before she grabbed him again and hugged him close. But as she yelled, the man looked out the way Androkles
had come, noticing the strangers for the first time. He inhaled, then spoke quickly to the
woman. She looked up, horror filling
her eyes. Androkles started to speak,
but the man barked him silent. He
spoke quietly to the woman and she grabbed Androkles up and raced out of the
room. Alex watched her go, then turned his full attention to
the man. He had dark, curly hair and
fair skin. He was dressed in a simple
cotton tunic with leather shoes and wristlets. Alex held his hands out innocently. “Hello,” he said simply and slowly. “I am called Alex Walters.” The man began to speak, just as
slowly. “Jason,” Alex said without
taking his eyes off the man. “Alex, we’re going to have to figure something out,” the
psychic said, slowly coming to join Alex.
“I can’t scan everybody’s mind.
This isn’t the Vulcan mindmeld we’re talking about here.” Jason continued passed Alex, extending his
hand cautiously. But the man backed
away, assertively keeping a distance between them. “Okay, screw it,” Emma said, pushing between Alex and
Jason. “Emma,” she said simply,
putting her hand on her chest. “Emma,”
she repeated, patting herself. The man
looked at her, confused. She held her
hand down. “Androkles,” she said,
pointing at the space her hand created between the floor at the height of the
boy. She put her hand on her chest
again. “Emma,” she repeated before
extending her hand to the man. He stared at her for a moment, then a look of
realization came to him.
“Hyppoclydes.” “His name’s Hyppoclydes,” Emma reported. Alex looked at her.
“Thank you for that,” he added.
He turned back around, to find only Til standing in the middle of the
previous room, looking bored. “Where’s
Isaiah?” he asked. “Doing his job,” Til grumbled, his arms crossed. “Covering us.” Alex glanced at the hallway they had come out of and
nodded suddenly. “Right.” He turned back to Hyppoclydes. “Alex,” he said, pointing his hand on his
chest. He reached across Emma and put
his hand on Jason’s shoulder.
“Jason.” He pointed back. “Til.”
Hyppoclydes nodded, still unsure how to respond. “Okay, we’ve got names. Now where do we go?” “Still working on that,” Emma confessed. Out from a doorway in the lit room, several men came
walking. Led by a thick, muscular man
carrying a shield and a spear, a sword at his side, the group of old men
stopped at the sight of the four newcomers.
The man with the spear pointed the weapon at them and barked out some
orders. “Alex,” Til said, “permission to exert dominance.” Alex ignored Til and glanced at Hyppoclydes. He stepped over to the elders and began to
speak to them in quick, hushed tones.
“Any ideas how we tell them we mean no harm?” Alex asked to Emma. Til stepped through the three. “Til!” Alex yelled. But the large German took out a
black-bladed knife. The others stepped
back as the man with the spear readied to fight. But Til held the knife up so they could all
see it, then laid it down slowly on the floor. He stepped back, his hands held out. The man with the spear looked confused,
then cautious. The elderly men began
to talk fast. “Well, that’s one way,” Jason confessed. “Isaiah,” Alex said quickly, his hand at his
earpiece. “You still with us?” “Ready to put down Maximo there at the first sign of
machismo,” the sniper’s voice said between bursts of static. “Stand ready,” Alex confirmed as the old men’s talking
subsided. A
middle-aged man with white hair and a bushy beard stepped forward. He held his hand to his chest. “Astrolydes,” he said. “Alex,”
he said, returning the gesture. The
white-haired man began to speak; his words slow, but still unintelligible. Next
to Alex, Emma tilted her head, a puzzled look on her face. Suddenly, her eyes opened wide. She banged her forehead with her hand,
startling the natives. “Of course!”
she exclaimed. “Care
to share?” Alex asked tensely. She
looked at him with a huge smile. “I
can’t believe none of us thought of this.
They’re Atlanteans.” “Yes,
and?” Alex goaded. “They’re
speaking a dialect of Greek.” |
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