The Mythos Saga: Part One
The Mythos Saga: Part One
The Elders
Chapter 1
"Johnson! What the hell are you doing now?!" Johnson nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden harsh shout from Sgt. Bask. He had been at the Antarctic base for almost two months now and had been assigned to the outpost to help the research team, lead by Dr. Elizabeth Weir, in the investigation of a newly discovered network of tunnels that had been overlooked during the preliminary examinations of a recently discovered Russian cold-war military base. He'd spent most of those two months studying rock samples at the base that were being brought back by survey teams. The exact reason why the military had need of a geologist to study rocks on the bottom of the world eluded him, but the opportunity to be the first geologist in history to analyze the strata of the sub-continent was too tantalizing to pass! Despite his expertise in the field and the military's wish for him to come down personally instead of analyzing the samples at his lab in his Massachusetts University, it had taken him nearly a month and a half of constant pleading and cajoling to finagle his way onto a survey team. And now that he was on one, he was going to make the most of it!
The amazing preservation and sheer antiquity of the place still managed to stir up incomparable excitement in the young geologist. He had lagged behind the rest of his team on this particular occasion to get a closer look at some of the unusually untouched strata of the rock formations.
"Look!" Johnson practically leapt up and down with glee. He pointed excitedly at a slightly lighter layer of rock. "See?! SEE?! It's pre-Cretaceous slate! It's got to be over fifty million years old!" The military Sergeant nodded his head in mock understanding, the grimace on his face showing his true comprehension of the scientist's ramblings.
"Uh huh, sure. C'mon, 'Professor', the rest of us have a job to do down here. You'll have all the time in the world once you're with the advanced research team. So, if you don't mind, you can look at your pretty little rocks later, okay?" Sergeant Bask grabbed the smaller man loosely by his camouflaged vest and practically dragged the protesting scientist down the oddly clean-cut corridor to where the rest of their team awaited impatiently.
"Hey, Sarge! If he does it again, can't we just leave him?" The call came from a strongly built corporal with a permanent grin plastered on his face. He was chewing on a wad of bubble gum and leaning against the passage wall with his arms crossed. Beside him was crouched a timid, wiry man of a slightly weaker and shorter build, but of a stronger intellect. He stood quickly as soon as he saw Bask, with Johnson in tow, and leaned nervously against the wall with his companion, occasionally throwing a worried glance down the hallway in front of them.
"Stow it, Perkins, I'm not in the mood." The Sergeant pushed Johnson in front of him so as to keep a better eye on the easily distracted scientist.
"Hey, sorry, Sarge," Perkins stated, kicking off the wall with his back and raising his hands to show he meant no offense. Perkins's gaze shifted to Johnson with a slightly more malevolent twinkle in his eye. "Nice of you to join us, Scotty-boy. Oh, don't worry; I'm sure there'll be plen-nty of shiny things for you to play with when we get there."
"Damn it, Perkins! Just shut-up! It's still a hell of a long walk and I haven't had chow since breakfast. Don't try me."
"Sure thing, Sarge," Perkins winked with mock cheer at his commanding officer as he leaned down and picked up his P-90 and extra heavy pack of gear.
"And what the hell is this?! Perkins! Didn't they teach you anything in the military?! You don't just leave your weapon lying around! What're you…"
"Sir!" The timid little man, who had been silently waiting for a chance to speak up, but had continued to scan the passage, now interrupted his commanding officer. Sergeant Bask stopped in mid-lecture to glare at the little man.
"Sir, I-I…" The little man pushed his glasses back squarely on his face, as they'd been slipping down his nose. He urgently whispered, "I heard it again, Sir!" Sergeant Bask sighed with a detested grunt.
"What? You heard what? 'A whistle?' 'A fluty-musicy-notey kinda noise?'" the Sergeant's sarcasm was lost on the almost hysterical engineer, but that didn't stop him from continuing, "Damn it, Miller, you're hearing things again! Have you gone over to the infirmary and gotten yourself checked out like I ordered, yet?"
"Yes, Sir," Miller whined, "and I'm fine! I'm better than fine! They gave me a clean bill of health!"
"Yeah, well, maybe they should check again."
"I swear, Sarge, I heard it loud and clear this time!"
"Miller," Bask started, "how many times have we been down this way?" Miller thought for a moment before replying.
"Uh…seven or eight, I think, Sir." The Sergeant nodded.
"That sounds about right. And we've never seen anything odd or had anything strange happen to us down here, now have we, Miller?"
"Well...no, Sir," Miller's face lit up suddenly as he pondered the question, "except for that room way far down the passage!"
"Oh! And the strata formations! I mean, wow! They're practically untouched and I'll bet there are more fossils in here than…" An icy glare from Bask stopped Johnson in mid sentence. The Sergeant turned back to Miller.
"I mean, we haven't seen any nasty beasties or strange critters or other weird stuff, right? And was there anything IN the room they found?"
"Well, no. But that was before we installed the generator, and no one's gone down…"
"Right," the sergeant interrupted, only half listening to him. "And you remember how cold and dark it was down here before we put in the generator, right?" The sergeant didn't even wait for an answer. "You don't want to have to go walking around down here in three-inch thick furs with frostbite nipping your toes, now, do you?"
"Well, no…" Miller was getting upset at being cut-off, but this went unnoticed by the impatient sergeant.
"Then," the sergeant interrupted again, "shut your trap and let's get moving! Relax, Miller. There's nothing down here but us. Johnson! Get in front of me; I want to keep you where I can see you!" Miller stood, almost dumb-founded as he was pushed past by the irritated commanding officer.
Johnson enthusiastically took off down the passage with Bask close behind. Perkins knocked sharply into Miller's shoulder, almost making the smaller man lose his balance, as he passed. He turned to give Miller a wide grin, still chewing his gum.
"Awww…sorry 'bout that," Perkins said rather unconvincingly. "C'mon, little man, you don't want to get left behind all by your "wittle wonesome" self, do ya?" He opened his eyes big and wide and pretended to chew frantically on his fingernails before breaking into a fit of laughter.
"Screw you, Perkins." Miller threw a quick glance over his shoulder before pushing on past Perkins down the corridor. Perkins's smug grin grew wider at the comment. Still rather pleased with himself, he shouldered his P-90 before taking up the rear of the line, traveling deeper and deeper into the ancient subterranean vaults.
The team continued traveling downward through the twisting tunnel for what seemed an eternity. The rock became darker and darker the farther they descended. On occasion, the team would pass a dark side passage with a gaping mouth, threatening to swallow any unwary explorer foolish enough to venture into its maw.
A long string of dim electric lights strung along the ceiling of the passage provided barely enough light to navigate, though it was not solely the fault of the lights themselves. The unaccustomed warmth from several heat generators, which the team passed periodically along the way, had caused any ice existing in pockets in the rock formations to melt and vaporize, which filtered through the rock's porous composition and suspended in the tunnel as an obscuring haze of water vapor; an ancient fog released from its frozen bonds of time.
Warm water, freed from untold of ages trapped in the sponge-like rock, dripped continually from the ceiling, saturating the already sweating men as they continued their descent. It seemed that strange air currents were at work far beneath the surface of the subcontinent. Ghastly swirls formed in the almost mystic fog, playing fearful tricks on the minds of those daring to traverse their ancient domain.
Johnson was openly amazed at the effects, commenting on the scientific significance of such vapors and the porous nature of the rock. He conjectured the odd wind patterns were from the heating and cooling effects of the portable heaters and frozen rocks beyond the walls, respectably, which created a current. Bask simply nodded, not caring so much about all this mumbo-jumbo and gave the geologist a gentle push to thwart the scientist's attempt to get a sample of a thick strata of green soapstone he had come across on their path.
From farther down the tunnel there came a constant, fluctuating whistle. At first, it had been so soft as to make the mind question if it was really hearing anything at all, but now the sound was too loud to be without doubt, though it was still barely below whisper. Miller clutched his P-90 closer to his body, his eyes roving restlessly over every inch of passage.
Despite Johnson's reassurance that the sound was simply an effect of the breeze blowing through the tunnel system, Miller still felt unexplainably on edge. He could not put into words the primal sensation of fear that made him grip his P-90 so close to his chest.
Nor could he curb the thoughts that spoke quietly to his mind from the nether regions of his subconscious; whispering to him through that barely audible moan of hideous secrets never meant to be found. Or strange things lurking just beyond the reach of reliable sight in this ungodly haze; things never meant to be seen by mortal eyes save in the fevered nightmares of crazed madmen.
It was not only that, but now the very air itself seemed to carry an ancient taint. With each breath Miller inhaled, he smelt the very faintest of traces of a stench he could not quite place, but knew to be more than stale air. Johnson suggested that perhaps it was a quality of the water vapor being stagnant for so long or a chemical from the rocks that had leached into the tunnel. It was probably nothing...
Eventually, the passage began to level off, the indication that they were near their destination. The thought refreshed their tired limbs' efforts in the knowledge that they were close to the end of their lengthy journey. And, eventually, they emerged into a large room.
The chamber was built of gigantic sandstone blocks, roughly 6 X 8 feet across in surface and easily 5 feet thick. It was built in a curious five-pointed star pattern and was conical in general shape. It measured approximately 80 X 80 feet across and a little over 53 feet high. In the center of the room was a star-shaped pit of unpredictable depth, the mouth of which measured about 30 X 30 feet.
There were four other passages from the room in addition to the one the four men had just emerged, although none of these were lighted. The main chamber was lit with four powerful spotlights, each aimed at the apex of the conical ceiling, as well as several small but effective high-powered electric lamps for general lighting. All of these were plugged directly into a small, strangely shaped, oddly humming power generator, which was placed almost exactly equidistant between the lighted passageway and the huge hole in the floor.
The lights gave the room an eerie effervescence from the heavy humidity. The thick fog in the room made it impossible to see from one side to the other without the aid of the high-powered lights. Air currents played freely across the entire chamber, changing weird wisps and odd angles into nightmarish illusions.
Off to the team's right were erected a few make-shift tents, one to house the medical supplies and field hospital, one for research and scientific equipment, and one for the pantry and food stuffs. Off to their left were several bed rolls spread out across a large area of floor space with backpacks and personal keepsakes beside them, suggesting that there were quite a few others down here.
"This is…" Johnson spun around in wide-eyed wonderment, searching for the words to explain his exact feeling, "just simply INCREDIBLE!" He ran over to the wall and studied one of the giant bricks closely. "Oh, my GOD! This is…I can't believe it! This is Jurassic-era sandstone!"
"So? It's a rock. What difference does it make?" asked Perkins as he swung his heavy pack and P-90 down beside the entrance. Johnson spun on the man, the passion for his work taking full control of mind and body.
"It's from the JURASSIC-ERA! Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Johnson was practically screaming in Perkins's face. In reply, Perkins shrugged.
"So…it's an old rock?" The look of dumb confusion on Perkins's face was priceless. Johnson's tone became sarcastically vindictive.
"Yes. It's an old rock." Johnson turned once again to the wall, "But do you have any idea what this means? This…pyramid…thing" he gestured with both hands wildly in his excitement, "has been standing since before man as we know him evolved!" Johnson spun at Perkins again. "It's been here since the dinosaurs existed and we were just barely primates!"
"Okaaaaay…so what does that mean?" Johnson slapped his head at the unbelievable thickness of Perkins's skull.
"It means that this thing was built before Neanderthals like you even existed! Don't you get it?! No human could possibly have built this!" Perkins shrugged.
"Hey, whatever, man. I just guard the thing. I don't NEED to understand whatever you geeks are doing down here."
Johnson sighed. There was simply no getting through to the man as to the sheer importance of this find. It was going to revolutionize everything anyone had ever thought about the planet's past. And he was going to a part of it! His hands were shaking from the sheer anticipation!
"Sergeant," Miller stood uneasily by the entrance to the chamber.
"What is it now, Miller?" asked Bask in annoyance. He had been rather amused by the scientist's futile attempt at educating Perkins.
"Sir," Miller scanned the room from left to right for the fourth time, "where is everybody?" It was right then that it struck the Sergeant. He had felt something had been off the instant he came into the room, but he hadn't been able to put his finger on it. The room was completely devoid of people. There was enough gear down here for a small army, and yet there was no one guarding it. There wasn't even a guy standing by the generator in case it blew a fuse or whatever happens to one of those gizmos when it breaks down.
"Relax, Miller. They're probably all off somewhere down one of those tunnels looking at something shiny they dug up. They'll be back soon. They wouldn't have left the generator unattended if they didn't mean to be back soon, so don't worry about it. Go warm up one of those hot plates and get some chow started, huh? I, for one, am starving."
Miller walked over to a tipped-over hot-plate and started warming it up as instructed. Despite his explanation to the corporal, the knot in the sergeant's stomach didn't untie itself. There was something that just didn't feel right about this. He reached for his radio.
"This is Bask. Anyone that can hear this, please respond. Over." He was rewarded with silence. Johnson, who was now over his first discovery and had picked up a random notebook that was lying on the floor, shook his head.
"There's no use in that, Sergeant. The concentration of rock down here is dense enough to break up any signal beyond visual range. You're not going to reach anyone with that."
"Well, you don't mind if I try, do ya? It makes me feel better." Johnson shrugged.
"Suit yourself."
Johnson sat down, cross-legged, beside one of the electric lights and began to flip through the notebook he'd found. Bask continued trying to reach someone by radio, to no avail. Perkins lay down on the hard rock ground with his head propped against the wall, eyes closed after the long trek and hands behind his head while chewing his gum.
Miller crouched over the hot-plate, waiting for it to warm up. A bead of sweat dripped down his glasses and he brushed it aside with the back of his hand. He just couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. Maybe it was his imagination, but it felt like he was being watched. Like every movement he made, every step he took or action he did was being carefully observed by someone…or something.
Not only that, but the smell was worse down here. It was stronger, thicker, and heavier. All the times he and Perkins and Bask had been down here, the smell had never been this bad. Even the hot-plate seemed to reek of that disgusting scent.
And he didn't buy it that everyone had gone off to look at something "shiny". It didn't fit. And that made it all the worse. He looked up at Bask on the radio, at Perkins on the floor, at Johnson flipping through the notebook, and shivered. Something happened here. And he was getting the sneaking suspicion that they were going to find out, one way or another, exactly what it was.
TO BE CONTINUED…
