SANCTUARY
“West 20 degrees, Feng,” Marjani ordered, her eyes fixed on
the computer analysis of the projected flight path of the last expedition to venture into the North
American continent.
“Acknowledged, Commander,” her Chinese helmsman replied.
Marjani recalled her history…in the old pre-globalist days, the ancient Americans had worshiped a fire-arms culture. It became all-consuming to them, dominating their way of life even as it destroyed their civilization. Other nations, including those of Marjani’s native Africa, had instituted common-sense gun control legislation. But, North America had ultimately dissolved into utter chaos.
As the
ship circled in and descended, she saw their destination on the forward viewscreen. Across the desolate plains of ruined ancient
cities…there is was. The dome. Truly the crowning achievement of a dead
civilization. Immense as a mountain
range, it straddled the continental heartland.
The only human built structure in existence big enough to be seen from
space. “Any contact?”
“Negative, Commander,” Cibor, the European com officer
replied.
“But, this was the last known position of the European
Coalition expedition, just before they disappeared?”
“Affirmative. I’m
scanning on all frequencies, but I can’t be sure radio communication is even
possible through the dome.”
“Probably not,” Meera, the young Indian historian said. “By all indications…towards the end of the
late nationalist period, the Americans had completely isolated themselves. Not even radio contact with the outside world
was possible. The dome was designed to
insulate them from what they called ‘foreign dominance.’ Primarily, they wanted to escape the gun control legislation of the new United Nations Assembly.”
“There’s the first ship!” Feng exclaimed, pinpointing the
Euro expedition airship on the viewscreen, brackets flashing around a point
near the edge of the dome.
“Enhance 40%,” Marjani ordered, the landed airship growing
larger on screen. “That’s the Artemis,
all right. ‘Looks intact. Put us down right next to it, Feng. All hands, brace for landing.” She felt the vibration as the landing jets
engaged, the ship touching down with a slight shudder. “Deploy scanning drones.”
“No sign of movement,” Jean-Paul, the tactical officer
reported, the aero-drone images of the surrounding area appearing on split
sections of the viewscreen. “However…”
he zoomed in on one section with a hand-held remote. What looked like a breached hatchway appeared
on screen. “It looks like they gained
access to the dome through there.”
Marjani studied the situation. “All right…Minimal contingent. We don’t want to kick over any hornet’s nests
if we can avoid it. Meera,
Isabella…You’re with me. Beamers set on
heavy stun force. Jean-Paul, you have
the bridge.”
The man looked at her with a furrowed brow. “Commander…I respectfully request that I be
allowed to…”
“Denied,” she said firmly, suiting up. “I need you here. But, have a squad standing by, armed with stun beamers. We may lose contact once we’re
inside. If we’re not back in 20 minutes,
come in fast. Clear?”
“Affirmative, Commander,” he said grudgingly, a frown on his
stern black face.
Marjani climbed down the airship’s ladder, the harsh wind
howling through the surrounding ruins.
Her breath rasped through her helmet, fogging the glass of her
faceplate. Dust pelted her suit as she
and the other two women made their way into the shadowed interior of the
dome. They turned on their helmet
lights, the gloomy darkness swallowing them as the faint light of the entrance
faded behind them.
“Air musty, but breathable,” Isabella, the South American
anthropologist reported, checking her scanner.
“No dangerous microbes or toxins detected.”
Marjani cautiously
lifted her face plate and winced in disgust, the ancient stench of decay and rot
choking her. It was like stepping into a
charnel pit. She threw her light across
the rusted, decayed wreck of shattered metal and gutted instrument panels all
around her. Layers of dust all
around. “How old are these ruins,
Meera?”
“About 3000 years at best estimate, Commander,” the young
woman said, her voice a tense whisper.
“This was the last outpost of technology towards the end. A haven from the gang wars, for the wealthy
elite. But, as you see…long since
cannibalized for raw survival.
Civilization clearly fell inside, too.”
“Commander, we’ve just lost contact with the ship,” Isabella
declared. “However…I’m picking up a
signal from the sub-dermal emergency tracker of one of the expedition
members. Half a kilometer due east.”
“Beamers at the ready,” Marjani ordered. “Isabella, you take point. Meera and I will cover the flanks.” She watched every shadow as they advanced in
the gloom, fighting to keep her breathing steady. “Isabella…Have your people in the South
American Federation sent no expeditions this far north?”
“None that have returned, Commander,” the young Latina
replied. “There have been rumors of wild
cannibal tribes in these parts, but nothing definite.”
Marjani started as something moved in the shadows, red eyes
blazing in the darkness as the thing lunged.
She fired, a shrill, inhuman scream lancing to her marrow like a cold
skewer. She caught a glimpse of
something shaggy as the flash of the energy blast faded. A cold chill ran through her as her heart
started beating again. “You both
okay?” Both women exhaled, replying in
the affirmative. Marjani threw her light
over the thing. Something like a
rodent. But, huge. Over a meter long, with straggly fur and
three-inch curved fangs. “What in hell?”
“Clearly, a mutant,” Meera said, breathlessly. “It seems the vermin are evolving towards becoming
the dominant lifeform.”
“Stay close, stay alert,” Marjani said, sweat stinging her
armpits as they advanced into a dim, growing light coming from a section ahead.
They emerged from the dark tunnels into a wide, open
chamber. Rusted, abandoned machinery
choked with thick weeds and underbrush.
Artificial light shined down from an arching ceiling high overhead. “Atomically powered lighting,” Meera
explained. “Clearly designed for
hydroponic agriculture. The farming
equipment’s obviously long since fallen into disrepair and the crops have gone
to seed, but the reactors are still running.”
Isabella shouted as
some horrible multi-legged organism…something like a centipede, but nearly a
meter in length crawled by. “Another
mutation?” she asked.
Marjani looked around, seeing winged insects, like
mosquitos, but nearly half a meter long, fluttering about.
“I’m picking up low-level radiation,” Meera said.
“Radiation leaks increasing over 3 millennia in a closed biosphere would
account for this level of mutancy.”
“Are we in danger?” Marjani asked, fighting to keep her
voice steady.
“The radiation levels are too low to do us any harm over short periods, but I
wouldn’t advise a lengthy stay.”
“Have no fear. Which
way now, Isabella?”
“Through there.”
They pushed through clinging vines and brambles into another
section. Ruined industry. Gutted factories. What looked like wrecked battle drones
covered in thick layers of dust. In open
areas, metal wreckage had been piled up, forming what looked like barricades,
covering makeshift shelters. Like
primitive forts. Marjani ran her hand
across jagged holes in sheets of metal.
Bullet holes, she realized.
“They turned on each other at the end,” Isabella
declared. “Their food supply probably
ran low, so they split into factions and fought over what was left.” She picked up what looked like a crudely
fashioned metal club. “When the industry
collapsed, when the ammunition was spent, they reverted to hand-to-hand
combat.”
They all looked up, Marjani’s blood running ice cold as a
scream echoed through the chambers. They
all ran in the direction of the scream.
The sound of multiple voices resounding in the rhythm of some savage
chant grew louder as they neared the entrance to a lower chamber.
They stopped, looking on a scene out of a nightmare. In a wide, torchlit chamber, a crowd of
hideously deformed, pale little primitives in rough animal skins clustered
about a towering statue. An immense
bronze figure of a man holding a primitive rifle aloft. “En-Rah!” they all chanted in unison. “En-Rah!
En-Rah! En-Rah!” A man was dragged forward by those crooked
little savages. A man in a European
Coalition uniform. Marjani gasped as a
stack of wood and brambles was gathered around the poor man’s feet as he was
tied to a pole.
“They’re going to sacrifice him?” she asked in a whisper.
“To their ‘god,’" Meera whispered. "Since they fell back into primitivism, their gun culture seems to have degenerated into a pseudo-religion.”
The captive screamed as one of the primitives brought a
torch toward his pyre. Marjani shouted
as she fired. The stun blast knocked the
little creature down, the torch falling from his hand. The other savages gasped and drew back as the
three women bounded down the steps, firing warning bursts into the air. “En-Rah,” the creatures all whispered in awe,
falling to their knees, apparently at the sight of guns.
“Untie him,” Marjani ordered. “I’ll cover you.” As Meera and Isabella freed the captive, the
mutants snarled in rage and attacked en masse.
Marjani fired directly into the crowd, stunning several of the creatures
into unconsciousness. Some were
frightened off, but the rest kept coming, brandishing primitive spears and
clubs. Marjani’s heart raced. Bursts of energy blasted through the wild
mob, multiple creatures falling. The
rest screamed in terror and scattered into the ruins. Marjani looked up, heaving a sigh of relief
as Jean-Paul’s strike team came bounding down the stairs, stun beamers
blazing. “That’s enough!” she shouted,
holding up a hand. “Hold your fire. I don’t think they’ll be back. Well done.”
She holstered her beamer.
“Are you all right?” she asked the man they’d saved.
He nodded, trembling.
“Yes,” he said in a strangled whisper.
“Thank you.”
“The rest of your team?”
He shook his head, burying his face in his hands.
“Get him back to the ship.
We’re getting out of here.” She
looked at the monstrous statue and brushed a layer of dust away from the plaque
at the pedestal.
Three letters stood out in bold relief: NRA.
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