The Secret of Atlantis Page 5

  “Master Rick...” Paul called out fearfully.

  Rick decided to wait before answering. Paul stood three steps away from him and could not see anything, while Rick had no problems orienting himself. It was amazing how blind people from the surface were whenever they found themselves in a dark place. Finally, Rick took pity on Paul and glanced back at him.

  “Be quiet and make no sound until I tell you to. Do you understand?”

  “Yes!”

  They moved on ahead. The floor started to gradually slope downwards. After a while, the gloom started to clear and a weak light could be seen up ahead. Paul sighed with relief. They continued on their way. Rick tried to roughly determine the direction that they were moving in and decided that the corridor was leading them somewhere to the north-west. His assumption was soon confirmed as he could see part of the dome and the glint of the reflected rays of sunlight that shone through the distant clouds.

  Rick decided that this was a good sign and picked up his pace, as the tunnel was obviously leading in the right direction which would take them outside the Retreat. He really did not want to end up in the place where the canal began, as they could come across the possessed. They soon had to stop as they found themselves at a fork in the tunnel. Rick looked at the tunnel openings stretching away into the darkness and tried to decide which one he should enter. The platform in front of him was incredibly clean — no sign of moss, spider webs, mold or rust. Paul crouched and slid his finger along the floor, coming away with a layer of gray dust.

  “What are you looking at over there?”

  “Nothing, Master Rick.”

  “We need to choose which way to go,” Rick concluded. “What do you think?”

  Paul shrugged. He saw no great difference between the corridors. This world was alien to him and it scared him. Rick understood that very well and carefully looked over the walls to look for signs. Nothing.

  “Mother Darkness,” he grumbled “We'll have to trust fate. Let's go down the right one.”

  They turned into the right-hand corridor which turned out to be taller and wider than the previous one.

  “Ah-ha! The direction signs should be here somewhere. I think we've got into a maintenance section. That means that the power and water stations are nearby. Just as I thought!”

  They stopped in front of a small square projection from the wall that had some writing on it.

  “Energy distributor,” Paul read out.

  There were also some letters and numbers that had been rubbed out by time there. Rick opened the hatch and flicked some of the switches.

  “No power. Just as I thought,” he turned to Paul. “The energy that provides heat and light goes through this box. The energy itself is produced at a station which is called a generator. Do you understand?”

  “Is it something like a hearth?” Paul asked tentatively.

  “Well done, you catch on to things immediately,” Paul nodded and strode off down the corridor at a brisk pace.

  Paul followed him.

  “The space near the domes is full of corridors and levels,” Rick explained, “where all the most important machines for human life are hidden. These devices were created a very long time ago, but many of them are out of power now, because people moved to the surface or died. The machines are still here, and they work. All we need to do is to supply them with energy and start them up again!”

  “What for?”

  “Don't you understand?”

  “No,” Paul confessed.

  “What do you even know about this place?”

  “The Scriptures of the Holy Maus state that the underground kingdom is the world of malevolent daemons that drag down the souls of sinners and consume them alive for all eternity.”

  Rick shook his head. The religions of all these small peoples were so different to each other, but they were always strikingly similar regarding the existence of hell.

  “Right. In time, everything will be put in its place.”

  “Do you want to start up the ancient machines?” Paul asked with notes of fear in his voice.

  Rick stared at him for a moment, but made no answer. Paul lowered his eyes.

  “I'm sorry, Master Rick, it's hard for me to get used to things when everything is happening so fast and...”

  “Can we agree that you will stop calling me Master? Just call me Rick.”

  They kept going.

  “As you wish,” Paul nodded obediently.

  “You are driving me up the wall with your ceremonies,” Rick grimaced. “Remember, that while you bow and say your pleases and thank yous, someone will take your head off and put it on a pike in the outside world.”

  Paul looked like he was in deep thought.

  “Mast... Rick, may I ask you a question?”

  “You're going to do that a lot in the near future, so go for it.”

  “Who are you?”

  Rick did not give an immediate answer. It was a simple question, but... It was so hard to answer the simplest questions sometimes!

  “Just another person, moving towards his goals. Satisfied?”

  “Not really,” Paul continued. “I mean, I understand that you are doing something extremely important, but what's the purpose of your journey?”

  “It's a long story. Remind me to come back to it when things are quieter around us, if we survive that long.”

  They walked along the corridor until they found themselves in a hall which was two levels tall. Part of the hall was occupied by a pool of water, which was refilled from an inclined pipe. The water left the pool by way of another pipe that disappeared into the wall. Rick climbed up onto the edge, got a handful of water, sniffed it and poured the remainder into his mouth.

  “I think it'll do,” he declared.

  They drank their fill. The water turned out to be a little salty, with a metallic aftertaste. Paul noted that it was a lot lighter where they were, even though he did not notice any light source, which he informed Rick about. It seemed like the dissipated light was coming from the ceiling.

  “Well spotted,” Rick said, as he filled his flask with water. “That's the mold fluorescing. It's a shame that your Abbot stole my papers. I had a map, a guide to universal codes, a dictionary and a list of computer passwords. It's all probably turned to ashes. It would have been so useful now.”

  He punched his hand in frustration.

  “You are so sure about this...” Paul began, but cut himself short as soon as he met Rick's eye.

  “You're as naive as a newborn! Haven't you understood anything yet?”

  Paul kept silent.

  “Kiernan played with you like a puppet, a doll that the Ancients used where they could tug on strings to make its arms, legs and head move around. He wanted to use you to find out everything I know. When that didn't work out for him, he just tried to get rid of me.”

  “Kiernan told me otherwise,” Paul replied, looking hurt.

  “Oh, really? So what did he tell you?”

  “That your eyes are as dark as the guts of the devil and that it was impossible to look into them without a shudder. That you are the get of dark forces, created especially to deceive the righteous. First, you will help us to gain our trust and then, when we finally accept you, you will deliver a crushing blow. He also said that the disappearance of your belonging from the temple was a trick that you had set up. Another thing he told me is to be very careful and wary if you decide to speak to me. He warned me that you would try to lead me to temptation and ordered me to remember everything you said and report it to him word for word. And that we could only defeat you together.”

  Rick snorted.

  “See, you were a puppet. I'm not even going to discuss it. Think for yourself and make your own conclusions.”

  “I have already concluded that Kiernan was mistaken,” Paul admitted. “So what are those codes? Incantations or prayers?”

  “Something like that. They help to control mechanisms and find out their purpose. There's a l
ot more you will find out about machines. Oh, take a look over there.” Rick jumped off the railing around the pool and approached the doorway through which they entered the hall to point to a barely noticeable A (III) symbol. “We're on the right way.”

  They decided to take a short break. Paul was looking around the hall when Rick suddenly looked concerned and motioned to him to get his back to the wall by the doorway with the symbol. Rick stood on the other side, keeping completely still. Paul got noticeably tense as he listened out for any disturbances. Minutes of waiting passed. Paul sent a questioning look towards Rick. Suddenly, someone quietly padded into the hall. It was the dark-haired boy who had tried to attack Paul in the Retreat. As soon as he noticed the others, the teenager tried to escape as fast as he could. However, Rick managed to get in his way, push him back and level the blaster at him.

  “Freeze or you die!”

  The former slave stood stock still. His dark eyes glinted with anger and his gaze was full of resolve.

  “Are you alone?” Rick asked. “Tell me the truth.”

  The dark-eyed boy nodded.

  “Good.” Rick stepped up to him and patted his clothes down, looking for weapons and then took a step back. “What do you want?”

  The boy kept staring at him. Then, he noticed Paul and frowned, resting his eyes on each of them in turn.

  Rick continued to question him.

  “What is your name?”

  Silence.

  “Can you talk?”

  Stubborn silence.

  “Don't you have a tongue?” Rick started to lose his patience. He roughly grabbed the boy by the chin, forcing his mouth open. “Oh, you really don't. Who did this?”

  The boy pointed at Paul. The teenager's face became a grimace of hatred.

  “It wasn't me, it was the guards! The Abbot said that this was protection from possession,” Paul mumbled rapidly.

  “I see.” Rick lowered his weapon and turned to the newcomer, “Thank their Holy Maus for this gift.”

  “I'm really sorry,” Paul looked away from the boy.

  He spat on the floor in disgust.

  “Is anyone following us or tracking us?” Rick asked him.

  The boy shook his head and made a noise in his throat. Then, he slunk over to the pool and spent a long time greedily drinking the water.

  “We still need to keep moving,” Rick concluded. “Let's go. Are you with us?”

  He waved at the boy and stepped into the corridor. After they walked through a short connecting passage they reached a tunnel that was four levels high. Rick noted to himself that the underground spaces were becoming ever larger and more spacious. They stood upon the balcony and looked at the monorail strip that ran along the bottom of the tunnel. Walkways stretched out from the balcony along the walls on both sides and led to adjacent corridors. The ends of the tunnel disappeared into the darkness. This still made Rick happier.

  The boy made a noise and pointed in the direction that Rick had supposed to be the north. Without waiting for an answer, the boy confidently strode off towards it. Rick agreed with the idea, so he followed.

  “You're going to follow him?” Paul asked in surprise.

  “Why not?” Paul shrugged as he walked.

  “But...”

  “We don't have any other options anyway, and it seems that this guy knows his way around well.” Rick still glanced behind his shoulder. “What're you standing around for? Come on and catch up with us.”

  Paul had no choice, so he hurried along after them.

  E

  A LONG STRIP of sharpened steel pressed into Rick's side. If the makeshift weapon entered even an inch further, the scratch would have become a deep wound and Rick would bleed out. Not daring to move, he looked at the bearded man who stood in front of him, dressed in orange rags. He had narrow shoulders and thin arms, similar to those of the other people that they just came across, only the bearded man had many different chains around his neck. Judging by the smell, these people had not washed for a long time. Rick wanted to look around, but the shiv pressed deeper into his side and the bearded man growled threateningly. The brown-eyed boy was looking at him from behind the man's back with great interest, shamelessly picking his nose all the while.

  So what did it all mean? They obviously knew each other. Only a few minutes ago, the boy had been quickly striding along the corridor ahead of them, when armed men suddenly jumped out from some hiding place and surrounded them. Rick immediately realized that resistance was futile, calmly lowered his blaster and raised his hands. Paul started to shake and quietly pray to his Maus for a merciful death.

  The bearded man finally shifted his attention from Rick and stroked the brown-eyed boy on the shoulder, saying a few words to him quietly. The teenager demonstrated his open mouth to him. The injury made a great impression on the stranger. He glanced at Rick and Paul with complete hatred, hugging the boy and forgetting about the prisoners for a moment. Then he turned back towards them and bared his teeth, about to issue an order, but the boy stopped him and used sign language to indicate that Paul and Rick had come with him. The bearded man spent a while examining them with suspicion.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “We come from far away,” Rick replied.

  “From the surface?” Rick understood that the bearded man was in charge here. “Don't jackals in the skins of men prowl up there?”

  Rick guessed that he was talking about the possessed.

  “They passed us by,” he said, patting the blaster that hung on the strap on his shoulder. “Thanks to this.”

  The bearded man narrowed his eyes and ordered the others to lower their shivs.

  “I am White Worm. And this is my son, Black Ant.”

  Rick and Paul introduced themselves.

  “Let us go to the lair of the White Worm,” the bearded man commanded, and everyone followed him. No one uttered a word along the way.

  White Worm's people led them through a web of corridors and split up, encircling them again once they reached a hall that had a similar setup to the central part of the temple in the Retreat, apart from being several times larger and more spacious. Lamps burned with orange light, pulsating like the embers in a bonfire. A myriad shadows danced upon the walls, which had numerous walkways and pipes stretching along them, as well as hanging bridges with ladders attached to them and masses of ugly constructions that were stuck together in the most unbelievable combinations. The prisoners were led to the platform in the center. The residents of this strange place stepped out of their dwellings, looking at the newcomers curiously. White Worm led the prisoners to an iron pillar, which was the height of two dozen men and had a huge chalice at the top of it. Metallic nets and protruding spikes of various lengths could be seen under the bottom of the chalice.

  White Worm approached the pillar, opened the lid on an instrument panel and grabbed hold of a handle that slid out of it.

  “We are upon the line again,” he intoned.

  “Upon the line,” the men escorting the newcomers chorused.

  White Worm pointed towards the handle.

  “Connect to the great Network.”

  Paul stumbled back, but Rick grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and dragged him towards the panel, whispering, “Don't even think about it, they will cut our throats if we won't do this.”

  Both of them took hold of the handle. Rick heard a noise in his ears and he prepared for another fit with dozens of voices in his head, but nothing happened and the headache and feeling of nausea receded.

  “I am upon the line,” he quickly declared.

  White Worm nodded and looked at Paul.

  “I am... On the line,” he wheezed, his voice atremble.

  “Now you are with us!” White Worm announced and clapped his hands.

  An approving hubbub arose among the people who had gathered around to watch the proceedings. White Worm raised his hand, ordering silence.

  “People of the Network, my son, Black Ant, ha
s returned. The ones above took away his tongue, but my son has regained his mind.”

  “How can this be?” someone shouted from the crowd. “Didn't you banish him when he was turning into a jackal?”

  “So I did. He and my wife became jackals and I banished them. But now he is one of us again!” White Worm declared and then turned to his son. “Show them.”

  The boy took a spear from the closest warrior and started to spin it around, Black Ant made shapes in the air with great skill. Shouts of approval came from the gathering. He stuck the spear into the corrugated floor.

  “Good,” White Worm continued. “These people came with him. My son's people are my people. My people are your people.”

  Rick could not quite understand what the chief was talking about. He was very perplexed now that he knew that his son had been possessed. Rick could not get his mind around the fact that Black Ant had somehow regained his mental faculties. Was that really possible? Could it be that Kiernan had taken the boy's tongue and cured him of possession that way? Unbelievable!

  He felt eyes studying him and looked around. The newcomers were being carefully examined in silence, as if they were exotic trinkets. A large woman with missing patches of hair stepped forward.

  “Have Black Ant's people come here forever?” she enquired.

  White Worm turned towards Rick.

  “No. We will go,” Rick replied.

  “Where?”

  “To the east.”

  This was not understood. The people started to whisper among themselves, trying to make sense of what they had just heard.

  “What is the east?” White Worm asked.

  Rick cursed himself inside his mind. How would they even know what that is anyway? These people only understood where above and below was.

  Paul quickly answered in his stead.

  “Above and even further.”

  White Worm mulled over what he heard for a moment or two and then burst out in wild laughter, joined by everyone else.

  “The ones above will catch you and put you on a chain,” White Worm guffawed. “They will make you pick at the dirt or drag around stones until you die. Even if you run away from them, the jackals will tear you to pieces. This is foolish. Let's eat.”