(Tower Seven
– Stasis Lab – 29 May 2010)
What Marcus didn’t know what that he had never left
the well. Instead, he and the boy had been teleported by an Ancient device
buried deep underneath the town. It had relayed them to another, which had send
them further along, until they had reached Tower Seven. There, they had been
put inside a pair of stasis chambers. That had been over two-thousand years
ago.
Aranov stood next to the stasis chambers. They had
discovered the second chamber – containing young Antonius – further into Tower
Seven. He had managed to access the logs for the chambers and realized that
neither the centurion or the boy had aged a day. When he figured out why, he
whistled.
“The pods have frozen them in time.”
Colson and Haley were at the room’s main control
panel.
“We’re going to have to be careful.” Haley said. “If
we get it wrong, they are going to age into dust.”
“I think we should take the diver approach.” Colson
began. “Slowly reducing the power as we go.” He punched up a screen. “There is
an automated program for the job. But this thing was designed for Ancients,
so….”
“…we put the function on manual and reduce it slower
than the programs schedule.”
It was at this point that Major Claus Anders entered the room. “How are things going ?” He said. “Are we ready to thaw our two ancient icicles ?” His voice grew serious. “And what about the psychological shock ? We’re going to have tell them that over two-thousand years have passed. We’re talking a major transition here.”
“Yeah, I have an idea or two about that.” Aranov said. “For now, however, let’s deal with the physical.”
“Do it.” Anders said. “But I want Doc H and a full
medical team in place before we dial power down one volt.” Doctor Julia
Henderson was the Beta Site’s Chief Medical Officer. She was a top notch doctor
from New Zealand. “We’re not taking any chances.”
“You’re the boss.” Aranov said.
Aranov took out his radio and began setting it up.
(Beta Site –
Tent – 29 May 2010, Three Hours Later)
Marcus was asleep on his bed. Then he heard something and his eyes snapped open. ~What the….~ His mind flashed, as he realized that he was no longer in his room. In fact, this place was unlike any place he had ever seen. It was a tent, but not of any fabric he knew off. His bed was crude woodwork, but the mattress was odd. As were the sheets. The place was lit by several oil lamps. He examined himself and found that he was wearing a simple white T-shirt and a pair of pants which stopped at his knees. His uniform was on a nearby chair.
“Where am I ?”
He got to his feet. His legs were stiff, but operational. He made his way to the exit of the tent. Marcus stepped outside and gasped. Because he was seeing something impossible. There were two suns in the sky.
“No…” He shook his head. “….that cannot be.”
But it was. His head swam. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. What he was seeing could not be. Yet it was. He opened his eyes and made his way into the tent. Marcus found his sword next to his uniform. He picked it up and went back outside. Looking around, he realized that his tent was part of some kind of military camp. His sword at the ready, he made his way to the center.
It was at this time that people came out of the tents. They all wore the same clothing – which Marcus figured was an uniform – and were carrying some kind of devices. And from the way they were carrying them, he figured these devices were some sort of weapons. They were yelling him in a language he did not understand. It wasn’t Greek or Latin. They pointed the devices at him.
~Stay calm, Marcus.~
He studied the group. There were eleven of them. They were a mix of men and women. Some were white, others were Nubian and some had a color of skin Marcus had never seen before. Suddenly, another man came from one of the tents. He said something to the group and they lowered their weapons. Then he looked at Marcus. He spoke Latin with a thick accent, but it was clear enough to understand.
“Greetings, Centurion Valerius. I am Tribune Anders.” He began. “Put your sword away and follow me. I have a lot to tell you.”
He had no idea what else to do, so he lowered his sword and followed the man. The Tribune led him towards a large tent. Inside was a large collection of tables and benches. Anders sat on one of the benches and gestured for him to sit across from him, which he did.
“Tribune….” Marcus began. “….where am I ? The sky, it is….”
“….impossible ?” Anders said with a smile. “Centurion, I have a lot to tell you. And you will consider most of it impossible.”
Marcus leaned on the table and listened as the Tribune told him of impossible things.
(Beta Site – Valerius’ tent – 3 June 2010, 0800)
After the Tribune had finished, Marcus had returned to his tent. It was as if his head refused to accept what he had been told. He had spent the last couple of days hiding in his tent. At least here, the world made sense. The whole thing was insane. Two-thousand and twenty-two years….gone. How was he supposed to believe that ? His family, all dead. It made his heart heavy. Suddenly, there was a noise outside. He grabbed his sword and followed his ears. They lead him to the center of the camp.
Two soldiers were arguing. One of them was a blond man with green eyes, while the other was a black haired woman with brown eyes. The Tribune had given him a device which translated the other languages in the camp to Latin. It had taken him two days to figure the odd machine out, but now he knew how to operate it. He shook his head. ~It’s like something from the myths, made by the gods themselves.~ They were standing next to a large weapon. The weapon itself stood next to a large ring. Anders had called it an Astra Porta, a Gate to the Stars.
“The schedule says that you were to clean it, Decurion.” The man was saying.
“There was a problem in the caves. They needed my help. I simply did not get around to cleaning the weapon.”
“No excuses, I want…”
Marcus cleared his throat and gave the two of them a stern look. “Are you two done ?” He looked at the female Decurion. “Decurion, clean the weapon.” Then he looked at man. “You, help her. And no arguments. These kind of conversations are not good for unit morale. Is that clear ?”
“Yes, sir.” The two of them said, before setting to the task.
He made his way back to his tent, pondering what had just happened. ~Two thousand years and still….~ He was not a part of their army. So they did not have to obey his orders. But they had, so maybe…..just maybe, there was a place for him in this world.
