He removed his hand when he saw the large button. Big and uncomplicated, so something like the giant, drone-like Travelers would only need to punch down on it to initiate the nuclear event.
He straightened, feeling dizzy; he needed to leave. There were a half dozen of the huge packs. He stopped at another, tilting it slightly. The weight was immense. The things that carried these, in some case for hundreds of miles, were unnaturally powerful. He hoped Hammerson was able to find the last of them.
Alex backed out of the room, sweating profusely, and then leaned against the wall, waiting for his stomach to settle. “Okay, there’s six bombs in there. Just waiting for their pack mules to walk ’em out.” He turned his head, feeling a compulsion drawing him on. There was also something else — Eli’s pain, the feeling of the man crying out to them.
“Further down. It’s further down.”
“Eli?” Adira crowded in close.
“I thought it was the bombs we were after,” Casey said. “Let’s fuck ’em up.”
Alex shook his head. “I think Eli is down there. But also the one responsible for them… and the things that carry them.”
“Is it… a person?” Adira asked.
Alex concentrated, but it was like pushing against a brick wall. “I can’t tell. So let’s go find out.”
They came to a final door, this one not the laboratory-white of the previous entrances. Instead it was age-old, the hinge braces and locking mechanism solid but heavily corroded.
Alex laid a palm against it and grimaced, as it felt like a fist had clenched in his brain. He stepped back.
“Whatever it is, it’s in there.”
“Is it Eli?” Adira asked.
“I think so, but it’s strange, like… he’s different.” Alex pushed at the door. Even though the hinges looked centuries old, they swung smooth and soundlessly.
“Looks like they ran out of money for decorating,” Casey said, grinning.
The air was fetid, and unlike the other rooms, the walls were rough-hewn stone, and more like a cave that had been hacked and chiseled from the surrounding rocks. The ceiling was high above them, and coated in slick moss that hung in glistening green stalactites.
“This place gives me the creeps,” Sam said quietly.
“I’m here for you, big guy.” Casey turned and winked.
“This looks like the original structure that existed below the dome. The new tunnels were recently added. Got to be a thousand years old down here — they probably had to tunnel down to get to it.”
“One thousand two hundred years, five months, three days, and eleven hours.” The voice came from above, below, all around them.
“What the fuck.” Casey spun, gun up.
“Do not be alarmed. I have been waiting for you.” There was a sound of excitement in the voice. “I know all about you.”
“Who are you?” Alex asked.
“Come now; you know me. Did you not come to find me? After all, I know you, Captain Alex Hunter, and you Ms. Adira Senesh, and Casey Franks, Samuel Reid, and even Eli Livnat.” There was a sound like a sigh. “I have been here for an eternity, waiting… in fact, waiting just for you, Alex Hunter, sometimes known as the Arcadian.”
Alex turned slowly, trying to pinpoint the voice. “Why are you producing the bombs?”
“I am not.”
“There are nukes here. I just saw them.” Alex concentrated, an image beginning to form in his mind.
“Yes, you did.”
“This is getting us nowhere.” Casey gritted her teeth. “Come out with hands up, or we’ll find you and drag you out.”
“I cannot, and no you won’t.”
There was a scream, but it only tore through Alex’s mind. It could have been Eli, or could have been some caged animal being tortured.
“Eli,” Alex said, through gritted teeth.
“Eli?” Adira spun. “Where is he? Our friend, you have him.”
“Yes, Eli. But he has joined with us now.”
“The hell he has,” Casey said, her voice turning to a growl. “You got thirty seconds, mister.”
“Hell?” There was a grating sound that could have been a dry laugh. “You have no concept of hell. Hell is to be trapped without seeing my beautiful land for too many centuries.”
“Jabir ibn Hayyan,” Adira breathed. “The great alchemist.”
“Yes. You see? You do know me.”
“How is this possible?” Alex started to move around the dank chamber, searching for the source of the voice.
“How? Life is easy, death is hard,” the voice rasped. “Crossing from one to the other sometimes takes a bravery I do not possess. So I decided to wait, making myself immortal, choosing those who can help me travel through the ages. Choosing only those strong enough to bear my burden.”
“What is your burden?” Alex noticed several large openings in the back of the chamber.
“My intellect, my secrets, my… self.”
“You are creating these things, the Travelers?” Adira asked.
“Yes. Do you like them? The people who currently live in these lands do. They help me, but wanted something in return. So I showed them how to make life from non-life. I gave them their ultimate warriors, the Zhayedan, the mighty Immortals of legend — single purposed, unthinking, strong beyond measure.”
There was a grating laugh of pure malevolence. “I told them I could create an army of Zhayedan, just like the ten thousand I gave to King Xerxes. With them, they would be able to defeat any army at Dabiq. I told them, like him, they could conquer the world.”
This time, the laugh was more disdainful. “Fools, they were mere dirt to me. All I really needed was to learn more about the outside world, draw on the weak minds of those brought before me. To search for the one, the next one to bear my burden… to search for you, Captain Alex Hunter.”
There was a soft sigh. “I can spare the lives of your people. I can stop the Zhayedan; stop the bombs from ever being used again. But in return you must give me something.”
“What.” Alex had a sense of deep foreboding. This was no chance meeting, but now seemed to have been engineered, everything planned, even from the very first detonation.
“You. I need you, your strength, your regenerative abilities. You alone are worthy enough to carry my burden — to carry me!”
“Carry you?” An image formed in Alex’s mind as he peered into the rear of the dark cave-like room. It horrified and intrigued him. He sensed eyes on them. “Where are you? Come out and we can talk properly. I’m ready.”
“Yes, yes you are. I think we are both ready. First, lay down your weapons.”
“Like fuck I will.” Casey had her gun pointed toward the dark alcoves at the rear of the room.
“Ah, the warrior woman; a small display then, just for you, Casey Franks.”
“Hey wait…” Alex never finished, as there came a sound like a wet slap, and Casey fell to the ground, her face bloody and her body jerking as if in a fit. Guns came up, and the team formed up, back to back around her prone body.
“What the fuck just happened?” Sam yelled.
“I punished her.” The voice was indifferent. “She isn’t dead, but I could have killed her. I just flicked her brain a little — a pinprick embolism, I think you would call it. A little display for both her, and you, Alex Hunter.”