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Sasha’s torch cast dancing orange light on the walls of another hallway. He’d been descending down one after the other for what felt like hours. At the intersection of each, a collection of symbols was inlaid upon the walls.

He didn’t recognize any of the glyphs, but his curiosity kept him searching. At the first intersection, he stood and stared at the odd shapes, trying to make sense of them.

He’d finally decided on the least exotic of the three symbols, a triple line. Each identical corridor slowly sapped his hopes of finding something, anything. Most troubling though was the condition of his torch. The flame had dimmed to a small flicker.

Finally erring toward caution, he turned around to make his way back and ran headlong into a clear wall. His torch was wrenched from his hands as he slammed against the unexpected barrier. The burning wood bounced off the ground with a thunk that echoed down the empty halls.

Sasha cursed and rubbed a rising bump on his forehead. He turned his attention back to the glass and ran his hands across its smooth surface. The material was foggy white with layers of calcium and dirt that had accumulated on both sides. How long has this place been here? He wondered.

He squinted, but there was no seeing through the buildup, so he continued to probe the glass for an opening, handle, break, anything. With a frustrated grunt, he reached into his scabbard and withdrew his weapon. Taking a step back, he aimed for what he hoped was the weakest point of the wall.

*CLANG!* His sword vibrated out of his grip and bounced off the wall. It sounded more to him like metal on metal. Sasha dropped the scimitar and rubbed his throbbing hand. In frustration, he kicked the door. Again, it echoed deeply back with a metallic bellow.

After a few more frustrated kicks and strikes, he leaned against the glass to catch his breath. He reached to unsling his rifle but stopped. Two breach rounds remained in his satchel. “Not worth it,” he mumbled with resignation.

As he reached down to pick up the torch, something caught his eye; an impression on the wall. It was much smaller than the ones he had seen and only about a meter off the ground. Sasha kneeled and away years of dust. It filled the air with a steadily swirling cloud that soaked up the amber firelight and sent him into a fit of coughing.

Placing his keffiyeh over his face, he moved in to examine the wall. The impression was about thirty centimeters in height and width. Engraved into the black stone was a shape that looked very much like a handprint, but with much longer fingers. Below it, the familiar three line symbol was etched into the surface.

He shrugged, placed his hand in the indentation, and pushed.

Nothing.

He pushed again, harder this time. When he received the same result, he tried hitting it, holding his hand on it backwards, even shouting “open!” and feeling very foolish for it.

To hell with this place, he thought.

The room was growing dimmer as the torch pulsated in its death throes. Suddenly, he realized how much time he’d spent trying to solve the odd riddle. Grabbing the panel with one hand for stability, he snatched up the torch with the other.

As he brought the dying flame up, suddenly it leapt off the end of the glowing wood. The flame crawled up his arm, across his shoulders, and down the other arm. Then, it seemed to pass through his hand into the black stone of the panel. Sasha stumbled backwards shocked. In an instant, the hall was pitch black.

The darkness of the cavern was nothing like that of even the darkest of nights. It was almost palpable, as if an invisible blanket had descended on the room and weighted the air down.

Sasha’s heart beat faster and his breathing quickened. For the first time since he’d arrived, he felt trapped. He fought against the imagined feeling of the walls closing in on him. Then, for a moment, there was a flash.

At first, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, but no, he was sure he’d seen it. A red glow, brief but very real. He felt along the wall until he found the panel again. Starting into the nothingness, he waited for it.

Flash

This time, he knew he wasn’t crazy. A light humming slowly filled the air. It sounded to Sasha like a swarm of bees. He imagined bugs crawling all over his body and suppressed the urge to scratch himself.

And then - the noise faded as the room was bathed in pale white light. He closed his eyes as it was more than they could handle after so long in the darkness. A voice echoed through the hallway, “Kola et ama’a efna, ma amal.”

A tingling sensation crawled up his spine and into his head. There was a moment of silence before the mysterious voice spoke again, “Welcome to Complex 4, awakened.

The wall suddenly split open to the left and right. A gust of escaping air blasted Sasha in the face. It was stale, old, like an abandoned corner of a library or a long deserted house.

Ahead of him a chamber was revealed, with more ether cubes that he thought existed. Thousands of them, all blue were stacked neatly behind ten meter high glass panels.

In the center of the room, a black semicircular panel stuck out. On its surface, the same hand shaped indentation glowed red. To its left and right, two more identical indentations lay dormant. There were no buttons or levers otherwise.

“What in the hell…” he said. He eyed the ether cubes longingly and added, “Oh gods, I’m gonna be rich.”

He placed his hand on the panel and thought, now, how do I get those things out of -

The world he knew disappeared.

***

“Guardians. Hundreds of them. Maybe five minutes out,” Fredrickson spoke dryly as he viewed a glowing green display on a console in front of him. On it, expanding circles spread outward every few seconds and disappeared at the edge. On one side of the screen, a blob of tiny white dots positioned themselves slightly closer to the center with each sweep.

“What are we looking at?” Jim asked as he leaned in to watch the strange display.

Fredrickson sighed, “It’s called sonar. It’s a technology from a long forgotten time, well beyond your… uhh, who is this?” His attention had shifted from the display back to the group. Kalandra slipped in closer to Jim, gripping his arm.

“Her name is Kalandra. She… it’s a long story,” Jim replied.

Fredrickson squinted and replied, “One we will certainly have to discuss if we survive this emergency.” Turning to Henry, he pointed to a ladder near the center of the room. “You, clockwork man, I need you in turret number one. Looks like you’re going to get to utilize that quick reaction time of yours.

Henry let out a sarcastic laugh and rapped his knuckles on the large brass ball that his legs attached to, “this big ol thing and ladders don’t mix. Also, my name is Henry.”

“Listen, Henry,” he emphasized his name with annoyance. “You and I both know, clockwork men possess immense strength. I have no doubts that you can hoist yourself up to the gunner seat.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Henry huffed and glared at Fredrickson for a moment before turning to the ladder. With both arms, he launched himself up three meters and scrambled into the gunner seat. He was soon situated and took hold of the two joysticks on either side of the seat.

Jim shook his head, “Wow, he looks like he knows what he’s doing. You’d never think it was his first time in one of those.”

“That’s because it isn’t,” Fredrickson replied. The hint of superiority was back in his voice. Anticipating Jim’s response, he raised a hand and continued, “If we come out of this, I’ll be happy to explain.”

He turned back to the artificial green circle. The white blob was nearing with each sweep of the sonar. Fredrickson was sweating more than usual. “You see this collection of white dots?” he asked, pointing. Jim nodded as the ambassador explained, “Each one represents a guardian, and there’s a swarm of them converging on our ship.”

“What’s a guardian?” Kalandra asked from behind Jim. He’d almost forgotten she was there.

“Technology beyond that of the Protectorate,” Fredrickson replied. Jim caught a hint of reverence in the ambassador’s voice. So, that’s what it takes to impress one of these Protectorate oddballs, Jim thought.

The ambassador continued, “They are small machines that sometimes traverse this passage. More advanced than your typical clockwork man. They come from a time before The Fall.”

Jim stared at him blankly for a moment. “The Fall?” he asked. “I’ve heard that term before. What is it?”

Fredrickson was aghast, “Are you… really? You know. The…” He stopped and stared at the pair. Both looked back in confusion. “Unbelievable. It’s no wonder you are all living in such a backward society full of -” he sighed, “nevermind. You,” he said, pointing at Kalandra. “What is the date?”

“The 21st of Hule,” she replied.

“And the year?” he asked impatiently.

“AF9602,” she replied.

“There you go!” Fredrickson exclaimed. “AF, After Fall. I mean, don’t they teach you that in school?”

“School wasn’t much of a priority for me as a kid. It takes second seat when you are looking for food most days,” Jim replied coolly.

The unseen enemy was nearly upon them. The return ping was steadily growing louder. “You two need to strap into compression chairs,” Fredrickson commanded, pointing to two vacant seats near the rear of the bridge. “This ride is about to get bumpy.” To emphasize his point, he scrambled to his own chair and strapped in.

Both quickly made their way to their respective seats without argument. As Jim’s strap clicked, the first vibrations shook the ship. His teeth knocked together and his body pushed against the shoulder harnesses.

The guardians were here.

***

Damn, I’m good at this, Henry thought as he squeezed the trigger on his right joystick. Twenty meters behind their vessel, a trio of guardians exploded. Each one created a temporary bubble of highly compressed gas that turned the small area around the exploding machines into a superheated pocket of destruction. As the pressure of the water overcame the explosion, the bubble contracted in one more brilliant flash of acrid yellow light.

Of course, it all happened in considerably less than a millisecond. Henry wasn’t sure which disturbed him more; That he knew the anatomy of an underwater explosion or that he operated the advanced tech of the Protectorate with the ease of a long practiced veteran.

Two more guardians came into view of the ship’s brightly glowing lights. The captain, whose name Henry never did catch, had turned all external lights to maximum illumination to assist the gunners in their deadly work. Sighting between the quad barrels, Henry would have smiled if his metallic face were capable of it.

He squeezed the trigger again. Four barrels unleashed a fury of projectiles at nearly five hundred rounds a minute each. The “sonic bullets” operated much like underwater explosions. Each bullet compressed the water around it into a superheated pocket of gas, allowing them to travel nearly as fast as they would through air. Again, Henry had no idea how he knew these things.

I’m going to have to get some answers out of that pompous ass if we come out of this, he thought.

Straight lines of gas reached out to the guardians from both turrets. The nearest of the multi appendaged machines, no more than half a meter long from tentacle to head, disappeared behind new explosions. Just before the pair vanished, a small pointed metal cylinder, thirty centimeters long, emerged from a hidden hole in the chassis of the nearest one.

The object picked up speed as it arced gracefully toward the aft upper turret. Both top gunners tried to shoot it down. Lances of white stabbed through the dark waters as Henry’s shots missed by a few centimeters. The other gunner’s rounds flew significantly wider. Suddenly, the cylinder exploded and rocked him in his seat. He couldn’t see clearly from this distance but, he was sure the gunner in the other turret had either been killed or knocked unconscious. Bubbles escaped near where the man’s seat attached to the hull.

“Breach!” He heard someone shout from below. A new, more foreboding alarm sounded. His fear of water threatened to overcome his senses, but more approaching guardians provided sufficient distraction.

He pulled the trigger again, sweeping in the direction of the oncoming machines. The target rich environment earned him a few lucky hits. More brilliant explosions shook the ship. Each flash added to the growing bleakness of their situation. As another guardian erupted, the millisecond burst of light gave Henry a momentary view of what was coming. Hundreds of the small mechanical squids popped into view before disappearing into the darkness again.

Henry considered their worsening position. Finally, he gripped the joysticks tighter and pressed down on a small button below the left trigger.

From a hole near the base of his turret, a metal box emerged. It had no propulsion. No special technology to guide it. It simply floated in place. The drag of the water quickly pulled the device behind their speeding submersible as it disappeared into the blackness.

He shouted below, “Brace yourselves!”

Henry would have held his breath if he had lungs. One second passed, then another. Oh please, please, please, don’t be a dud. It would be my cursed luck to get the one frag mine that-

White light flooded every centimeter of his transparent turret bubble. The seat beneath him jolted away from the explosion, pushing his considerable weight against the shoulder harnesses. Dozens of small explosions crackled behind the initial detonation, throwing the ship forward in an even greater velocity.

The two ventral turrets continued to fire into the fray as the ship cartwheeled in slow motion. Henry watched as the riverbed filled his field of fire. Then, impact.

***

Jim probably would have vomited if he wasn’t too busy holding on for dear life. The impact against the floor of the lava tube sent everyone against their harnesses. For a moment, the submersible ground to a halt against the rough surface beneath them.

But, its momentum was too great. With its bow caught, the stern of the ship rose quickly in the rushing water until they were nearly ninety degrees, end over end. Cool water from the rapidly leaking topside turret rushed down the hall and instantly soaked him and the other bridge crew.

Alarms blared from the cargo bay. Down the aft hatch, he heard someone scream in pain. Then, he was upside down. With a groan, the craft continued its roll until - crunch. The submersible lay silently on its roof.

Through it all, the ventral gunners continued to fire. Jim was impressed with their focus in light of the bizarre situation. More vibrations shook the ship as scores of guardians were extinguished.

New explosions rocked the flipped ship. More alarms sounded from every corner. “Purge the tanks!” the captain shouted over the bedlam. One of the crewmembers shuffled up the periscope with both legs wrapped tightly around it. He stretched a soaked arm out to a nearby console. Lifting a protective layer of glass from one of the buttons, the man smashed his hand down.

A loud whine filled the submersible as it shook violently. Jim could feel the floor, which was now the roof, pushing on his legs. They were ascending.

The ship began to right itself, rolling lazily as it rose from the lava tube floor. Henry emerged from the gunner’s couch, soaking wet. As he gingerly hoisted himself onto the ceiling, the submersible flipped. His metallic body crashed to the floor and he cursed out loud.

They were ascending… fast. Through the vast darkness of the water, he couldn’t see the roof of the lava tube yet, but he knew, soon they would be getting up close and personal.

“Hey, you!” Fredrickson called. “You’re about to put those powers of yours to good use.”

More explosions shook the ship but, they were lessening in intensity as the ship ascended at high speed. “What do you mean?” Jim shouted back.

Fredrickson pointed up, “There’s about thirty meters of solid rock between the top of this tube and the surface. I need you to clear us a spot or we’re going to shatter on impact. Emphasizing his point, new streams of pressurized water broke through unseen breaches behind one of the ship’s consoles.

The water in their small space was sloshing back and forth and rising. Jim spotted Henry clinging to a nearby console. Even though the clockwork man could not display emotions through facial expressions, Jim could see, he was miserable.

Turning back to Fredrickson, Jim shook his head, “That’s a hundred tons of solid rock. I’ve never moved anywhere near that much.”

Fredrickson smiled smugly. Nodding toward a nearby black crystal bulkhead, he replied, “Then it’s a good thing we’re sitting inside a giant awakened amplifier.”

Jim stared into space for a few seconds before he understood. Of course! he thought. Just like the Phoenix. This thing is one giant black crystal attunement chamber.

The explosions were far enough away that he could chance finding his footing. Unbuckling the harness, he dropped from the raised seat to his feet. His legs instantly folded beneath him. The constant rush of adrenaline had left him weakened and wobbly.

Trying again, he stood and stumbled to a nearby bulkhead. “What do I do?” he called back.

Fredrickson shrugged, “You’re the awakened. I figured you’d know.”

Jim sighed. Placing both palms against the cool crystal wall, he closed his eyes and opened his mind to his second sight. The tunnel took form around him. The submersible disappeared, and all that remained were the shining life forces of each crew member.

Below, the guardians continued their scramble toward their rising ship, but to Jim, they were voids against a black backdrop. He focused his second sight on the approaching cavern roof. They were coming up on it quickly.

In his mind, he began to peel layers from the cavern roof. He imagined himself digging at a large patch of sand and tossing its contents aside, much as a child in a sandbox would. Chunks as big as their submersible jostled themselves loose and were tossed sideways into the dark water.

Layer after layer was pulled out. He did his best to direct the largest pieces away from their vessel. Some of the smaller bits made it through, their loud bangs ringing throughout the ship. The submersible was only a few dozen meters from the ceiling now.

Taking a deep breath, he poured his will into one final upward thrust.

***

The western drylands was baking under the summer sun, as they had been every day for thousands of years. This far west, the only creatures strong enough to survive knew to burrow deep underground to avoid the punishing daylight. The afternoon winds whistled across the barren landscape. Wisps of sand and dust occasionally swirled in and out of existence.

Suddenly, the ground began to vibrate. The unusual sound of water bubbling, unheard in these parts for over one hundred centuries, drowned out the tepid afternoon calm of the far desert.

A small patch of sand began to depress as if collapsing into an unseen hole. The patch was tiny at first, measuring a few centimeters. The hole continued to grow as more soil fell into the abyss.

The sound abruptly stopped. For a moment, the quiet of the desert returned. Then -

An enormous geyser exploded into the air in a white foamed tower of water and sand. Suddenly, the battered submersible erupted out of the opening. With a hiss, it jolted forward, bow first and beached itself partially on the desert floor.

***

On the bridge, the warning klaxons were silenced by staggering crew members working the control panels. Jim sagged back into his shock chair.

Danger, adventure, risk. Jim had had enough of it all. He closed his eyes and thought of the one person who always brought him comfort. At least he could find some peace in knowing she was safe, far away from this mess.