October 4, 1870 – 4:46 am
I am struggling to write these words on paper, but my hands are shaking tremendously. I feel my heart pounding through my chest; I can hardly breathe let alone conceive an orderly thought. The villain of this horrible plot has reared itself for the first time, but I hesitate to humanize or personify what I saw, for it is no man or Earthly beast. It is clear that in their desperate attempt to build their kingdom, the conspirators—the intruders—have bargained with an evil entity. That which once slept peacefully in the emerald has now been pulled from the far reaches of the abyss and unleashed upon us.
I arrived at the usual intersection, but Wernicke was overdue. I did not suspect anything unusual yet. However, I felt the bitter sensation of intrusive eyes watching me from afar. An eerie silence settled in. I grew fearful. Every window seemed occupied by a looming specter, but it was only my imagination. Thirty minutes passed, and I grew troubled. Something happened to Wernicke, and just as I stood up, a rough voice emerged from the darkness around me.
"Charles!" Stripe yelled. "I hoped to catch you and Wernicke before departing. Where is he?"
"I am not sure. He should have been here half an hour ago. I think something happened to him!"
Stripe revealed the pistol between his belt and nightshirt, as did I.
"Let us go before it is too late," he said.
We hurried to the warehouse where the doors were left open. At first, nothing seemed irregular, but then we heard faint, indiscernible echoes. I vividly recall swiveling through the mangled pillars of looming craft chunks, which lent the appearance of a jagged maw—a threatening landscape we were ensnared in. Wernicke and his men were up against an office door. Stripe rushed to their aid and found them pliable and unconscious. There were no markings to indicate a struggle. It was as though they just lied down and drifted off.
"I'm ending this," he said, cocking his gun.
A council was assembled inside the office. The attendees kept hidden in shadow, but I recognized most of them. One man was as tall as me. He had long hair, which was pulled back into a tail; a rather thin frame, and an elaborate cloak. Beside him was the inscrutable Ivo K., and next to him were the two assailants from the night before. They were on their knees. Ivo pulled the emerald from his pocket and brought it close to the young man that stooped before him.
The emerald spoke in that hideous slither. "Video vos, puer. Ne timeas, quia tecum."
The young man extended his hands to embrace the emerald.
"Et sic incipit tempus inferni, propter quod sum."
"United States armed forces! Lower your hands and weapons!" Stripe shouted, banishing his gleaming revolver.
But it was too late. The young man had brushed his finger against the emerald, and the once-dormant beast fled into his body. He lunged at me with gangling arms and incredible agility, screaming like a banshee. The others were firing wildly at Stripe but took refuge behind a workbench. The young man threw me against several shelves and tables before pouncing on my chest. I could not see his face; it was too dark. I pushed him off and ran for the doorway, but then I heard an appalling roar from behind. I turned and saw the young man leap at me, spinning over my head, and blocking the doors! He crept forward, casting himself in moonlight, thus revealing his appearance to me. I was aghast... he was no older than Colin—maybe eighteen or nineteen. His eyes were so tired; his body was thin and frail.
"Est tibi, sed hoc non potest esse!" the beast spoke from his lips. It knew me. "Ceciderunt gladio meo!"
"Charles, duck for cover!" Stripe yelled. "Charles, now!"
He fired at the young man, but he quickly dodged the round. I staggered to a stance. A plume expelled from the young man's mouth like a thick, oily vapor.
"Leave! Leave now!" he yelled.
"I won't lea—"
"Go!" he screamed.
The oily plume writhed for a moment, and then charged me! I ran from the warehouse as fast as I could, hoping in vain to avert the frightening entity that chased after me. I ran down a warren of alleyways and then took a sharp left, nearly tripping in my hasty maneuver, all the while the plume splashed and spun behind me. I was running down a sidewalk of storefronts—behind me, the plume grew fiery green eyes, and shot clouds of hot breath from its being. It crashed through the storefront signs like they were cardboard.
Then, I saw sanctuary! A cathedral! I ran for it, banging on the doors, and screaming for help, but no one answered. The plume propelled across the courtyard with ferocious speed; I leaped out of its way as it splattered against the cathedral doors. I fell over the steps, twisting my ankle, and bending my knees. The plume materialized into a ghostly human figure. I lay there, looking up in fear and alarm as it drifted toward me.
"Et rursum proiiciam igneos puteos te in!" it shouted, raising its bony finger high into the air.
My eyes widened. I was not prepared to die...
"Stop!" Stripe screamed from across the courtyard. His revolver was aimed at the figure's head. "Relinquish yourself or so help me..."
Stripe's voice caught the figure off guard. I took the opportunity to reach for my pistol, but then the figure spun around, and shouted, "Chaos imperium!" In a hot flash of purple sparks, it vanished without any trace.
The other intruders were gone by the time we returned to the laboratory. Wernicke and the others were laid out in my office till they recovered from whatever spell forced them under.
"They knew they were coming... again!" Stripe was very irritated. "It was an assassination attempt; they wanted you dead. This was a staged event."
"If only we can understand—" I tried to explain.
"Understand what, Charles? That there are traitors in our midst? That we failed in stopping the release of that... thing? That we might all be staring down the barrel of a coupe? What do we not understand? How could something turn to smoke like that? How did it know you?" I was shouting.
I recoiled in my chair. "That thing—no doubt the evil we were forewarned about. The emerald's sorcery was never hindered or stalled by the traditional elements as I foolishly believed. It can alter the molecular composition of almost any living organism it touches."
"It must be destroyed!"
"It will. But please lend me one more day."
"Why?" Stripe growled.
"Adam. We found him."
Stripe almost lost his balance. "What?"
"He is neither man nor beast, but rather a machine."
"A machine?"
"It behaves like a man; it speaks plain English. If I can somehow communicate with it, then perhaps we can win this battle, and apprehend these intruders."
"And ask it how that monster recognized you..."
Stripe was never a man to fully grasp the Latin language, but his studies were enough to understand that which the beast professed.
"As strange as it already is," I said, "I believe I recognized it too. And not from my nightmares. I feel like I may have crossed paths with it before."
"I wonder, have you spoken to Colin about to-night?"
"No," I said. "The committee reviewed his commitment and found no irregularities. I do not believe he is involved, but he will no longer be accompanying us any further."
The general looked away.
9:22 pm
Never in my life would I believe that someday I would be hosting a conversation with an intellectually competent machine. The experience is strange, rousing, and lingering. I will do my hardest to inscribe the encounter, thanks, in part, to our wonderful stenographer who kept a concise record of our conversation.
The night was unforgiving. I had not slept a single moment; my nerves were far too shaken to afford me peace or comfort. At dawn, Wernicke and his men awoke—troubled, angered, but in good health. Dogge was not empathetic to the condition he was a part of. When he awoke, it was knives and daggers.
"Do no believe for a single second that I am unaware of Adam. If it garnered your attention then it has surely done the same for your traitorous assistant." He was coarse and gruff. "And I do not like being under the influence of spells, Mr. Morgan."
He was at my side for the remainder of the day; scrutinizing every decision I made, every construct I endorsed, every action I preceded, and every annotation I wrote. When Colin arrived—ignorant to our quandary—it required all my strength to hold Dogge back from arresting him.
"This may prove to be your most grievous mistake," Dogge heeded, pushing himself out of my grasp.
"Here you are, sir," Colin affirmed, relinquishing the envelope. "I did the best I could in keeping it secured in my pocket."
"That will be all, Colin," I smiled. "Please, find Dr. von Schlemmer, and help him prepare Adam."
I could not tell if it was my imagination, but Colin exchanged a brief glimpse of betrayal when he looked at me before leaving.
"What are the contents of that envelope, Mr. Morgan?" Dogge inquired.
"A letter of considerable worth."
"And like a fool, you lent it to him?"
"The envelope is sealed, just as I left it. It even bears my emblem on the wax. Rest assured, the matter is taken care of. I suggest we—since you are attached to my side now—begin this Adam project before the spy discovers its potential."
Then, like a dagger, Dogge muttered, "A well-prepared spy can lead anyone astray. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, Mr. Morgan."
His words were so acidic, they lodged themselves deep in my mind like splinters, pestering me throughout the day. We adjourned to von Schlemmer's office, near the rear of the warehouse, where Adam was wheeled into. Neither of us knew what to expect. What did the machine look like? Did it look like an engine, a dynamo, an industrial loom, or something more indescribable? The technology from the craft is so far beyond our perception and understanding, a machine capable of human consciousness might look alien in nature. Then... I saw him...
The machine was stripped of its metal casing and lower components; crudely wired to around fifty gravity cells, and outfitted with a small brass cylinder for steam-powered energy. Von Schlemmer stood behind it with a jaunty grin and explained how miraculous it was to reconstruct the machine following such a violent impact. He went into further detail.
The gravity cells maintain a constant circuit of electricity; just enough for one full hour of conversation. The original design had some sort of pad through which users and Adam could interact through. A team was arranged to reconstruct this "push-button pad" using steam power based on Adam's description of the component. Julian authorized the task. Then we were told that Adam is "voice-prompted." Fitted to the left side of the machine was a trumpet's horn in which people converse through, but also in which Adam gathers, analyzes, and interprets sound information.
"The voice-prompt mechanism is highly sensitive," von Schlemmer explained further. "It functions as a remarkable identifier, detecting any abnormalities in my cadence. He is more accustomed to me than anyone else, so please proceed with caution. He is quite feisty."
Emmett pressed a button, and a line of untranslatable text appeared on Adam's glass face. Then it spoke! "Autonomous Digital Assault Microbe ready for instructions."
We almost cried.
"Adam," I lightly spoke up. "What is 'digital?'"
"The process of using discrete values of a physical quantity to represent signals or information. I function on a digital system, which uses these values as opposed to continuous ranges of values. However, most of my components have been replaced with a crude steam-operated network."
"And what is a 'microbe?'"
"A microscopic organism."
"From where do you originate?"
"Unable to determine. It seems the crash has erased or damaged large parts of my memory. I am not permitted to guess, lie, or estimate information."
"Can you tell us about who built you, or about the beings from your world?"
"Something cataclysmic occurred long ago, as the result of two warring species: the Ixis Order, and the Black Arms. Perhaps you know of them already. Your species referred to the Order by many names like Annunaki. And the Black Arms as Hell's army. They warred for millions of years."
"Who or what is the Order?" Stripe asked.
"My creators; those who ruled millions of planets, and who once ruled over yours. The Order had been around for billions of years. I wish I can give you more information, but sadly I cannot."
"And what are the Black Arms?" I asked.
"Random information in my memory suggests they were a barbaric species, formed after a failed experiment billions of years ago."
"Did either of these species construct the air-ship you were in?"
"The ship belonged to the Ixis Order."
"Was the ship's original destination Earth, or was it bound for another world?"
"Unable to determine."
"The craft bears hieroglyphs dating as far back as four-thousand BC during Egypt's fourth dynasty. Should we assume the ship is truly that old?"
"Yes. I was built in the final years of the Ur kingdom, in the third millennium BC."
"My god," Emmett exclaimed. "That is not possible!"
"If the craft was present in these ancient epochs, what purpose did it serve?" I asked.
"It served the fourth great civilization."
An eerie silence gripped the room.
"The fourth great civilization?" Colin asked.
"Atlantis," I whispered.
"A civilization far more advanced than Rome and mightier than China, and whose vastness extended further than any of Egypt's great kingdoms. But it failed."
I wanted to persist the topic further but was limited to a broad range.
"What about the emerald?" I continued.
"I only have pieces of information, resulting in an incomplete definition. Ixis lore states that when all seven are brought together, an event known as Great Harmony would occur. The emerald you recovered is chaos distilled to its purest form. It is this chaos that gave birth to us all."
I dropped my pen and looked over at Colin. We both shared the same imminent feeling.
"And the sword?" I asked quietly.
There was a delay in his answer. "Unable to determine."
"What about the mace, or the staff, or the light siphon we found?"
"Unable to determine."
"There is a device implanted at the bottom of his monitor," Emmett said.
"It is an object-detection system. It uses electromagnetic waves that bounce off objects. The information from the bounced wave runs through my processors and interpolates the form of the object. It is beyond your mental capability, but in time, I am sure, you will learn all about it."
"You seem resentful, Adam."
"Dr. von Schlemmer, I may be a machine in your eyes, but that does not mean I am blind to what is in front of me. For the benefit of your species, you will dismantle me to find out how I work. You will produce your versions of me, however shoddy they may be. To you, I am merely an appliance of curiosity... a subject to experimentation. But inside, I am alive! I feel human!"
"You are wrong, Adam," I said.
"What is your next question, Dr. Morgan?" Adam impatiently asked.
Colin quickly stepped in. "There are sequences on your... face. The glass plate. What are they?"
"I only know of one image, and that is the one that you see as I speak to you. It is a graphic that displays the shape and form of my audio output signal. By talking loudly, you can that the wave is taller and condensed! But, if I talk softer, the wave is shorter and stretched out."
"And you do not know about the other image?" I asked
"No."
"It is a symbol of some kind; a yellow circle divided into three equal parts by a thick red line. Along the circle's perimeter are three equally dispersed, red polygonal shapes."
Silence. Then, "When does it occur?"
"Now, when you stop talking."
He paused again. Then, "Unable to determine."
Our exchange lasted well over an hour. We were fortunate to have been provided insight into the nature of the gold rings, albeit a frightening disclosure.
"They are a natural bi-product from corrupting the emerald. A fuel source to some," Adam divulged.
Their lifespan is fifty years. The energy composed in one ring can provide electrical power to a city measuring 305 square miles for five years uninterrupted. If enough were allocated, they could equal the emerald's energy.
When the cells inevitably lost their charge, Adam's glass face—his monitor, as he calls it—suddenly went black. I maintained a keen eye on my stopwatch. With ten minutes left, I asked Emmett and Colin to retrieve the sword so that we could observe how Adam's 'radar' mechanism worked. Or so I lied. I took the opportunity to speak into Adam's horn.
"Aetas Enerjak incepit," I whispered.
"Dr. Morgan?" he replied.
"I was told to relay that message from my dead brother. We seek your help. Please. We fear an ancient evil has been released."
"This cannot be. Great Harmony scattered him to all—Dr. Morgan, please return to the laboratory later to-night. This is something you—"
His monitor went black. The cells were depleted.
The day closed on a quiet note. Stripe, Dogge, and I were unable to speak a word after what Adam struggled to tell us. To-morrow, military officials and members of the committee are gathering for a presentation on our findings thus far. I knew this day was coming, but amid all this chaos and dark magic, I lost track of time. My efforts were so engrossed in this tangled conspiracy, I forgot I was to attend this presentation as a joint-adviser. The anxiety I felt was so potent. Something horrible is bound to happen, but I do not know what.
Before my departure, I stood in my office, bathed in orange sunlight, pondering whether I should tear up the envelope or see if Colin obstructed it. Of course, I could not destroy it, but Dogge's heated words beckoned my thoughts. Even now, as I conclude this admission, my eyes cannot help but trail over to that dreadful white envelope. I simply cannot fathom the thought of such a bright young man capable of horrid duplicity. Deceit is not in his nature.
I will close this entry before I go mad. Dogge grabbed me before I boarded my cab.
"To-night, Morgan, it all comes to an end," he bitterly declared. "I notified Julian of our congregation with Adam, and we have made the necessary arrangements."
"What arrangements?"
"Thirty or so men will be at our hands, and we will finally bring an end to this horrible mess."
"You are using me as bait?"
"We will be prepared!"
"These men—these intruders do not abide by the laws of science! How can you be prepared?"
"It is a chance we must take. I am sorry, Charles, but we must apprehend these monsters by any means necessary. With any luck, after tomorrow, this project will be permanently expired."
"And what if you fail?" I asked.
"We will not."
"Let us all hope you are right."