Galactica: Book 1 - Via Lactea

 

On the Icy Planet, the Atlanteans were involved in the most massive battle since the defeat of the Elohim in Earth orbit some years back. Seven hundred and twenty-nine fronts opened simultaneously, as the Armies charged the underground tunnels. The arrival of the Atlanteans in the caves was so well synchronised the Insects had no forewarning of the assault. The Natives had been busy in the mines when the Atlanteans made their appearance at the caves, and the Insects were concentrated along the upper, much colder reaches of the cave system. It became apparent from the reports flowing in that the Insects were in the process of readying the caves for closure as the heat was becoming uncomfortable for them. It seemed that 32° Fahrenheit was way too hot for them and that they needed to leave the planet to return to a much colder clime.

Greywolf and the other Swarm commanders decided to put some heat topside, blocking the evacuation of the Insects to more temperate environments. Flame-throwers came into play, detonating the Insects like firecrackers on a holiday. The Natives, held back by locks installed on the mines, could not partake in the Insect-roasting party. The Atlanteans focussed on their task, delaying the release of the Natives until all was done. In all, it took less than 24 hours to clean up the caves.

The Atlanteans then left behind an army to free the Natives and establish contact while the rest of their troops moved forward to close the last remaining caves. The 446 caves were all located on the equator and seemed to be in the final phase of the evacuation process. Mining shuttles were long gone, and only what Atlanteans had identified as passenger shuttles were left behind, in a long line that comprised several dozen ships per site. All ships were ready to embark the Insects for their trip home.

«Port a Legion to each site. We need to disable the ships before they take off,» ordered Alexander, as he began to do just what he had ordered with his own troops. «Disable only! The Insects must not know something is wrong before they try to take off. Once this is done, the Legion is to make itself invisible. Camouflage and hide thermal signatures. We are less than two days from the next assault front.»

***

On the Marsupials’ planet, the diplomatic first contact was turning sour fast. The Marsupials refused to listen to what the Atlanteans had to say and considered them another invading force, only different from the Insects by the number of legs. The most stubborn was the Elder, who acted with a total disregard for basic courtesy. He spat at their face, tried to hit them with his long and strong legs, and to even bite them. He even turned his back to them and farted in their face, the ultimate insult in every civilisation. That pushed the cork too far for Zen, who slid in the tall grass and took a mighty bite at the right paw of the offender. Shortly, the Marsupial leader began feeling an intense burning sensation as the venom began affecting his nerves and destroying the synaptic interface.

"What did that evil thing do?" asked the disgusting individual, as he felt ever sicker.

"He dealt with you like I should have when you spat in my face. He disposed of you. You are being poisoned. You should have taken the time to study whom you faced before acting brashly. As I told you, we destroyed the Insects, something you were unable to achieve, without losing a single soldier to their action. And yet, you acted like we were mere grass you could trample. Join your ancestors with dignity, for you will not be of the living much longer. Zen is the King of his type of life-form, and his venom kills his enemies in unmistakable pain."

Indeed, the Marsupial’s death was turning ugly: his skin colour was changing in spots as the blood vessels contracted; his breathing was becoming shallower; his extremities were turning an ugly black as the blood vessels collapsed. All this was accompanied by a pain level that was growing exponentially. He also was losing motor control and fell on his side, progressively paralysed, as the senses disconnected one after the other. The eyes were the first to go, followed by hearing, then the skin, which had been giving signals of increased pain and burns, turned off in segments from the tip of the members toward the head, Finally, autonomous control collapsed and his heart gave, followed by the breathing mechanism. A few powerful spasms followed, and the body came to rest in a contorted position, so rigid it would take days until it could be unfolded for a proper burial.

"It seems politicians are the same everywhere: bull-headed bird-brained bullshitters!" said Ovid as the Marsupial leader released his last breath. "Now I know why the Emperor goes nuts when he hears the word ‘politic’!"

The Marsupials kept looking at the corpse, frozen in shock. Finally, the Foreman of the Sawmill task force stepped from behind the Atlanteans and looked at his brothers.

"Are you willing to listen now? They helped us rebuild the Sawmill and we gained a month on the time-line because of it. They should have received consideration for their effort not the crap they got! Now, we, and they, are hungry! Feed us or get out of the way!"

No one objected as the team let the Atlanteans into the camp. The Workers were starved and made no mystery of their destination: the mess hall. They took the long tables out of the building so as to accommodate the bigger Atlanteans and took the food from the Kitchen on to the relocated table. Mark and Ovid produced food compatible with the Atlantean metabolism and duplicated the food brought out for the Marsupials.

"Our metabolism is not yet adapted to your food. Rather than risk poisoning, we generated our own. I noticed your food supply is meagre, so I also duplicated what was brought out from your kitchen," Mark informed them.

The feat of Magic left the Marsupials stunned, and they tentatively tasted what Mark had produced for them. Finding it matched their usual fare, they dug in with gusto. The Marsupial food was composed essentially of thick leafs that secreted a whitish juice when bitten, some roots, what the Atlanteans identified as fruits, and some plant stems.

"Is this your fare or is it war rations?" asked Ovid, as he observed the contents of the huge plates.

"These are war rations. We had to reduce the diversity of our diet because we could not distribute the products efficiently. But we also eat meat on occasion. Had we had advanced knowledge of your visit, we would probably have added a few wild animals to the menu," replied the Foreman. "Can I ask a question in return?"

"Certainly."

"How come you speak our language? The first invaders did not."

"As I told you earlier today, we disposed of the Insects. Those tools we used also allowed us to study you and learn your language. It is my turn to ask a question. From our survey this camp is the biggest on the planet. I have yet to receive the reports from our ship concerning the history of your world, so we have to guess much. How did your people manage to send a huge ship into space given what we observe: no petrol or gas industry, no advanced chemical industry of mention, no launching site we can discern, and no heavy metal industry of any significance?"

The Foreman looked uncomfortable, his long, strong tail balancing left and right, He looked positively miserable.

"Answer his question. They helped us recover the blades after all," said one of the Workers, much to the surprise of those that had not seen the Atlanteans’ intervention at the Sawmill. Finally, the Foreman spoke up.

"These blades are old. We did not manufacture them. They come from our past. They were around before we learned to use fire. There are many sacred places, which we can only access when we are technologically ready to. We just recently discovered petrochemistry, and that opened a new window of knowledge to us. We have yet so many secrets locked into these vaults."

That stunned the Atlanteans considerably. Who would have left the repository of technology and knowledge behind on a planet where, according to the Foreman, life had yet to discover fire?

"If I understand what you are saying, some people left a repository of technology for you to discover as you advanced?"

"Yes."

"Is there one such repository nearby, either locked or opened?"

"The Sawmill is one. Below the sawdust is a cave. It is where we found these blades and the plan to do the Sawmill, some 5,000 summers ago. It has been relatively slow gaining access to more repositories. We have been stalled for a long time. But lately, just before they came, we had made some jumps forward, most specifically in the nature of things."

"The nature of things?"

"How the world is built, how it is bonded together."

"I think he means physics and chemistry, Ovid," said Mark.

Ovid nodded and resumed his questioning.

"How long ago did these new discoveries occur?"

"Some twenty summers before they came. It opened a wide number of caches and we began exploring them, making numerous discoveries as we progressed in them, But then they came..."

"And?" asked Ovid.

"And we noticed they did not act friendly so we hid everything as quickly and as quietly as possible. It seems the caches had an emergency lock, and the moment we began locking them all the others locked down as well. Fortunately, most of the treasures had always been left inside the caches, so the invaders never discovered them. We hid what we had taken out, including these blades you so kindly recovered for us."

"What about the Sawmill?"

"As I said, the cave is hidden by the huge pile of sawdust. We figured we could always dig it out when we would need to access the cave later, but the arrival of the invaders put a halt to that idea. In fact, we are no longer sure of where the cave is located. We would need to remove all the residue to find it."

"That will be our task, then. We have means of displacing huge masses, and we would also recycle the sawdust into something useful so you would recover the area for more productive use," decided Mark.

«Are you not engaging our Lords a bit deeply?» asked Iridia.

«I do not think so. We are here to prove we are not the Insects. What better way to do so than by helping them recover a sacred cave?»

«The little one is right, my love. And he acts like a true Atlantean: decisive and direct.»

"Are there other such storage facilities nearby?" asked Ovid.

"There are some. We collapsed a cliff to hide one three days after the Insects, as you call them, began invading our world. Another entry was closed off with a pile of logs, and another got flooded. There are hundreds of others but these are the ones I worked to hide. Why do you call them Insects?"

"In our world there are tiny life-forms that have six legs, called Insects. There are also eight-legged ones, and some that have more than eight. Most complex life-forms have four legs where we come from. There has been changes in life so the forepaws evolved to become prehensile, that is capable to grasp objects efficiently. We believe from your own anatomy this planet’s life has followed a similar pattern. Will you be sending couriers to inform the other camps of our presence?"

The Marsupials exchanged glances and the Foreman spoke up again.

"No. We saw what happened when you arrived. We are aware that our leadership suffers from chronic immobilism and is content to let things progress at a rate more akin to no progress at all than anything else. They would react like the one the walking rope killed."

Poor Zen would have blushed had it been possible for a Snake to do so, as the other Atlanteans exploded in laughter.

«Me? A rope?» thundered Zen as he hissed at the Foreman.

«Cool it, Zen, I think he never met a Snake before. Maybe there are none on this world.»

«I am always cool,» replied a pissed-off Zen as he looked at Timor.

«Usually you are, but for now you would melt a glacier.»

***

On the Icy planet, the Atlanteans closed in on the last caves like Locusts on a healthy crop. The Legions had not actually touched the Insects’ space-ships, but had made sure the launching ships would crash on take-off, out of sight and out of mind of the control centre.

A day after the Legions had done their deed, the Legates stood watch from a distance, hidden from view by the dust thrown in the air by a strong cross-wind. Suddenly, a column of Insects moved out of the tunnels and embarked on the parked vessels. The Insects were disciplined if nothing else and they all took their station for take-off. At day-break, just as the Sun rose over the horizon, the first ship accelerated and lifted off. From the ground all seemed normal, and the next ship took its position for the launch. By then the first ship had reached sub-orbital speed and was re-entering the atmosphere on the opposing side of the plant, heading for a fiery end. The ionisation of the atmosphere produced by friction prevented the crew from signalling any issue and the space vessel disintegrated before falling back on the ground in multiple fragments.

Meanwhile, the launchers had accelerated the cadence, and a ship was now lifting off the ground at the rate of one per minute. The Insect crews did notice an increase in lights in the sky, but they attributed this phenomenon to space debris from the other star system colliding with the planet’s atmosphere.

Six hours later, the control ship, the one in charge of the launching ramp, took its position on the magneto-accelerator and took its final flight to its doom. The Insects had been a threat, now they were dust.

The Legions already on site moved quickly to occupy the tunnels. The first obstacle they had to break through were the locks, which had been disabled by the Insects. A group of Engineers took that task of reactivating the circuits and pressurising the containers that moved the pistons to open and close the locks. It took the Atlanteans three days to fight their way through the first lock, and the problem repeated for the next three, for a total of 12 days between the last Insect ship leaving the planet and the troops entering the caves.

The caves were dark, silent and sounded like tombs. The Atlanteans quickly located the mine shafts and reactivated the elevators that were used to bring the mineral to the cave for processing and the Natives to do the dirty work. It surprised them that none of the Natives made their way topside even after the elevators had been reactivated so Scouts descended into the mines to figure out what was happening. There, they discovered the Natives had been locked into huge rooms, left to survive on their own until the Insects would return. Already, cannibalism was evident from the piles of bones found in a corner, Water was taken from the dripping mine walls and distributed with parsimony amongst the survivors. The only saving grace of these abominable conditions was the presence of vents that let air flow liberally.

The arrival of the Atlanteans was a total surprise to the Natives, whom had resigned themselves to lose another quarter of their population before the Insects returned to make them work again. After establishing contact, the Legates told them they were invited to the surface to inspect what was left of their civilisation, and that food was being prepared in the cave above the mines.

At first, the Natives were reticent to believe what was said, but the arrival of tons of food and hundreds of gallons of fresh water rapidly broke their reserve. Things seemed to be on the mend, but one Centurion noticed that the group he had rescued seemed to spit blood considerably and had huge breathing problems, so he called the fact to the attention of his Legate, who, not understanding what he was seeing, called in on Alexander for help.

Alexander ported to the cave and began examining the Natives, at first thinking it was a form of tuberculosis. An examination of the phlegm revealed no bacteria concurrent with a lung disease. Stunned, Alexander called on Thebes to get assistance.

«Alexander to Thebes. I need medical assistance.»

«What is the emergency?» replied Colibri, who was at the sick bay that day.

«We have several hundred Natives coughing blood for no apparent reason. I did a microscopic examination of the blood and of what they cough out, and found no trace of bacteria. I am ill-equipped to sample lung tissue.»

«I see. We may be able to deduce from the environment what is causing the problem. Describe their normal environment.»

«They live in caves, dug in mostly silicate-based rock and carpeted by industrial residues. They live, sleep, eat, and do their bodily functions in this horrible environment that would probably kill most non-magical beings. I have been marvelling at their resilience given their living and working conditions.»

«When you say industrial residues, what kind?»

«Smelting, mining discharge, contaminated water, the lot.»

«I understand your surprise at their survival. Is the issue widespread?»

«No. The conditions I described are, as far as I know, standard for them, but the blood-letting is totally localised.»

«Ask them to bring you to the mines they were digging last and see if there are differences from other mines.»

«Ok. I shall be back to you soon.»

it took Alexander several hours to convince the Natives that he needed to get in the mines to understand what was the issue but finally they relented and guided him down the shaft to the area where the sick Natives had been working.

Nothing jumped to Alexander’s face but he then remembered some exchanges he had with Thorsten about mining hazards. According to Thorsten, the greatest risk a miner faced was sudden change in the nature of the rock he was digging in. And then, he remembered the description of the issues Harp and Sitar, or was it Paschal, he was not sure, but nonetheless he remembered vividly their description of the problem of climbing a cliff face composed of alternate ash and lava layers. Looking around with his powerful flashlight, Alexander wondered why that story came to his mind just now. Intuition? He moved closer to one of the walls of the gallery and touched it. Rock, very hard rock, black and glassy... igneous rock! Maybe that was what had triggered the memory.

"Does this gallery extend far?" he asked his guide.

"Compared to others, not very far, no. It was opened at the beginning of the mining season. The invaders wanted the iron in the hard rock, but each layer is about an arm-length in thickness. Between them are several arm-length of that grey-black powder," said the guide.

Alexander turned his attention to the area the guide was pointing and noticed the lighter band of rock. Upon touching it gently, he produced a cloud of particles that spread rapidly around the point he had touched. That rock was extremely volatile! The memory played in his mind again... ash, volcanic ash! But how could it be stuck between two apparently vertical layers of lava?

«Thorsten, I need your help to understand what I am seeing.»

«Is that you Alexander? Describe what you are seeing.»

«I see layers of ash separated by wafers of lava, but it’s the position they are in I can not understand. The layers are vertical, not flat one above the other as I am used to seeing.»

«The layers simply rotated after they were deposited. I would not be surprised the upheaval produced some ore deposits between the layers of lava since this kind of movement generates a lot of heat. Is the lava vitrified?»

«Yes.»

«That confirms my idea of what happened. You should see deep black stripes of almost pure iron oxide at the lava-ash interface.»

«I do see narrow black bands. Is it normal the ash is so volatile? The moment I touch it, it literally disintegrates into clouds of microscopic particles.»

«The water was evaporated when the crust rotated due to the heat. That is much like a natural cement factory.»

«Okay. Colibri, have you been following my exchange with Thorsten?»

«Yes I have. Did the Natives have breathing masks in the mines?»

«Do not be daft! They had to scrape water off the walls to drink! Do you really think the Insects would have bothered with breathing masks for their slaves?»

«Sorry. I just can not fathom that attitude, well, except from my grandfather, may the Devil roast him forever!»

«I wish there was such a place for the Elohim, but we can not create one without the risk of falling into it ourselves. Anyway, can we get back to my problem?»

"Sure. I think I figured out what happened. The natives were exposed to silica dust from mining the iron ore in these conditions. They suffer from pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. The lungs’ alveoli are filled by silica dust which is like glass and it cuts their lungs up. Since it it ultra-fine dust that needs a microscope to be seen, and it is of volcanic origin, you have the long name.»

«That is a jaw-breaker!»

«Not to mention it is the longest word of the language from which franca lingua is derived, English. As for treatment, I suggest you apply what Harp did after they entered the Cave in Kantar. Port everyone a few feet, leaving the glass behind. Use your Mages in a chain-gang fashion. One ports, two heal the customer. That way, you will not end up on a stretcher.»

Alexander regrouped his ten Legions of Mages and put them to work, explaining what to do. Not every Mage was proficient enough to help, but they were put to other uses, such as drilling to supply fresh water to the Natives, rebuilding living quarters more fit for their users, and producing basic garments to protect those that wanted to check on the surface conditions. Within three Atlantean days, those Natives that could be saved had been, and the others were buried. Yet, the Atlanteans knew there was still so much left to do.

***

On the Marsupials’ planet, the Atlantean away team slept fitfully, aware that many in camp considered them intruders and enemies. Zen took care of putting up the shield for the Atlantean camp, but it did not stop Timor and the others from taking turns patrolling the secure perimeter, if only to intimidate would-be interlopers.

Another issue began to bug the expeditionary team: they were totally out of phase with the circadian cycle of the planet and would need to adjust shortly. They kept quiet during the long 25-hour night, knowing the day period in the area at this season lasted 20 hours and was gradually getting longer, much like Spring on Earth used to be.

As the Sun rose on the horizon, the Marsupials groggily came out of their huts, and began to prepare breakfast for themselves. The Atlanteans were off completely since they just had their evening meal less than two hours earlier. They waited on the Marsupials to be ready and allocate work gangs. The Foremen met in the central plaza of the camp and discussed what needed to be done.

"We are almost done at the Sawmill. The visitors helped my team a lot. I think by the end of the day we shall be finished."

Another Foreman took the stage.

"We need ropes and pulleys to lift the bridge deck. We are short on these resources."

"My team has collected the material to make more rope, but they need to be processed by immersion in water to be workable. We should have several hundred arm-lengths of rope within a few days once the basic material is pliable enough."

"Preparing pulleys from hard wood without proper tools is taking considerably longer than what we had initially thought. We are way behind our initial estimated time. If only we had a rotating table, it would ease the sculpting of the groves with the flint blades. We also need more flint blades. They break easily, and lose their cutting edge quite fast."

"Flint is rare. It can only be found along the river-bed, several hours’ walk away, and we cannot safely explore over half of the river without risk of drowning."

The discussion continued and the Atlanteans began to fathom the immense difficulties the Marsupials faced during the reconstruction. The Atlanteans discussed the situation between themselves and come to a conclusion: if things were left as they were, they would be on the planet and wear beards before anything really returned to a semblance of normalcy.

«Let us kick-start them properly,» suggested Timor.

«What would you do?» replied Zen.

«They are proud people. Let us give them the tools to rebuild their world rather than finished, off-the-shelf products.»

«I know the design for a rotating table, but it is for pottery,» suggested Iridia.

«Create it, and it will be adjusted to hold the wood plug for sculpting. We can also create a rotating drill bit on the same principle?» suggested Mark.

«Probably. I use my feet to rotate the table on its axis, but their tail prevents them from sitting on the ground properly. I think I need to adjust the design so it is set in motion by a leather strap linked to a drum in which another Marsupial can walk. The differential in radius would act as gear and speed the table relative to the walking drum.»

«I can create wood cutting blades with handles. Carbon - molybdenum blades should last forever and would replace the flint ones they use advantageously,» said Timor.

«Just make sure the tools are of a size appropriate for their hands,» replied Ovid, as he eyed the giant paws of the Troll King, easily eight times his own size.

«I created a tool set for Harold-Ian less than a month ago.»

«That is still too big for their hands. Cut the size by half.»

«Let us proceed before they disperse,» decided Mark.

Timor quickly materialised a set of tools for the Marsupials and called their attention to the wood-cutting knives.

"There are sixteen knives. Notice they vary in width and thickness. The blades are very sharp and will stay so even when used on your hardest wood. That should help you prepare pulleys. Also, you get a series of hammers of different weight so you can cut out the excess mass from the plug more effectively."

It was Iridia’s turn to speak. Almost invisible in the long shoulder hair of her Troll Husband, it gave the impression the shoulder itself was talking, quite unnerving the Marsupials.

"I have produced a Potter’s wheel. You will need pots sooner or later to store products. A kilning oven will be needed to harden the clay once the pots are made and dried. That will have to wait. I am studying different designs of driving mechanisms for a rotary cutting mechanism. Do you have leather?"

"Yes, why?"

"We shall need some wide bands of leather to bind the driving mechanism to the rotating table where the plug will be tied for sculpting. I hope you have needles fit for work in thick leather and sinews that will act as thread to tie the ends."

"We have needles made out of ivory. Will that do?"

"For now, yes. Once we have helped you restart your metallurgy, they will be replaced with steel needles. Here is the rotary tool table, and the drive mechanism."

Right in the middle of the village’s place appeared a short pole held at waist-level by struts placed in an inverted V position. At one end was a flat surface with holes located at the edge. The other end was polished. Another big piece of equipment appeared out of thin air: a wheel big enough to stand in presenting a wide surface between two vertical edges, in effect a huge pulley. The other side was left relatively open, with only three strong struts placed at 120° angle from each other. Then, a thick leather strap appeared, folded itself around the two slick areas and sewed up, Finally another apparatus appeared and had its rotating mechanism placed so as to exert some tension on the leather. The distance it pulled on the strap could be adjusted by means of screws.

"That last part is the tension adjuster. As the leather is is used, it stretches and will gradually lose tension, making it slip. You pull the roller back toward the outside until you feel the strap bite anew, and lock it in place. When the leather strap breaks, and make no mystery of it, it will, you remove the old leather strap, bring the tension adjuster to its minimal position, and reinsert a new, much shorter, strap. You sew the ends together, and then reset the tension adjuster to a position that allows proper tension to be exerted on both wheels. Notice that the big wheel has a much bigger circumference than the rotary table and will impart considerable speed to it by means of the strap. Timor? Would you make a demonstration, please?"

"Iridia, I can not even enter it."

"Use your hand, you walking fur coat!"

Timor began moving the wheel by hand, and quickly, the rotary table mechanism began to spin at a breathtaking speed, even as the big wheel kept a leisurely pace.

"When you need to stop, slow down progressively to prevent the leather from sliding. This will reduce wear and tear."

The Marsupials were very impressed by the Magic feats, but even more so by the complex machine they now had at their disposal to create different objects. A rotary tool could be used in an infinite number of ways to create everything from screws to poles.

"How do we tie the plug to the surface?"

"Notice that the table has a long, very long extension that is static. It can be adjusted to pressure the plug in place. Furthermore, within the table are screw holes. You drive screws through the holes into the core of the plug, thus tying it to the table so the plug rotates with it. You can use the fixed part of the table to tie knives and other cutting tools as well, or hold the blades by hand. Have fun exploring the different possibilities offered by that tool. I suggest you build a shed around the entire set-up to protect it from rain and weathering. Leather becomes brittle under weathering, and wood rots. Leave the furthest side movable so you can insert logs and long objects for cutting when the weather is nice. As for the Potter’s wheel, you can move it inside one of the existing huts or put a canvas over it. Pots are notoriously messy to make. I shall teach you how to make them and kiln them later."

"Those are good suggestions. But what should I do with my team now? We no longer need as much flint!"

"Start rebuilding the road from the Sawmill to the Bridge. Shortly, the Sawmill will be in production and the Bridge will be needed, but so will the road," suggested Ovid. "You will need to fill up the holes with fine pebbles, starting with the smallest grain, and compacting each layer before installing slabs of rock to surface it properly. It will be heavy and back-breaking work."

«I wonder why we bother with all this since we know we shall be moving them into a Tessaract later,» moaned Timor.

«They have to be kept busy before things degenerate. And by helping them, we gain some credit with them, which will ease the negotiations later,» replied Iridia, frowning from within the long hairs of her Husband.

«Politics sucks.»

«What a comment to hear from a King!» mumbled Zen, much to the amusement of the others. The Marsupials saw the smile from the young Atlanteans and had learned to associate it with something funny, but they could not guess what had brought out the facial expression. The Marsupials used a thunderous flipping of their ears to mark pleasure rather than lips.

"Your suggestions are accepted. Maybe it is time for us to move to our respective tasks. I would like to remind everyone that we discussed sending messengers to the other sites about our visitors and have unanimously, I must add, decided not to do so. The visitors have been courteous and respectful of our customs, contrary to our now deceased self-appointed leader. Let us learn a lesson from these visitors which seem to be quite young for their task: Old age is not a guarantee of sagacity."

The work force split and left camp, leaving only a few to clean up behind them. A group began building a shelter for the rotary tool using logs taken from the nearby forest. Another group delicately moved the Potter wheel to the side and built a thatched roof open-sided hut over it. By the end of the day, things would be completed. The task force that had been dispatched previously to collect flint helped those that were assigned to making pulleys in the task of preparing rough plugs. The wood knives left behind by the Atlanteans proved their worth, as several dozen plugs were hacked out of wood stumps over the day.

Over at the Sawmill, the Atlanteans helped install the saw bladed securely, and then began linking their core to the water wheel. By half-day, the first run of the blades were made as they were tested for balance and stability. Once the Atlanteans were satisfied the blades would hold safely, the sawing deck was completed, and the walls build around the area, leaving the flume to deliver the raw logs, enough water to lubricate the deck and the blades and wash away the sawdust. By mid-afternoon, the first log was cut, and a dozen planks made out, leaving a core beam measuring four feet on a side with a length of 30 feet.

"That should help in rebuilding some structures," said the Foreman as he eyed the first product of the new Sawmill with satisfaction.

"Yes, Now we need to clean up the area of the accumulated sawdust and restore the virginity of the working area. The representatives of the Equines have been doing a sonic, magical and radar examination of the area. According to the results, the thickness of sawdust is several hundred feet. Luckily the Sawmill is built on a rock, so removing the sawdust will not undermine its base. I have talked to my friends up there, and the sawdust can be reused if we add some glue. The best glue is what naturally binds wood cells together: lignin. We shall do this for you since you do not have the industry to do it yourselves."

"You talked to the stars? How?"

"Well, not to the stars, but you certainly noticed the presence of a new moon around your planet? It is our home. I talked to them because I can. We all can. One day, you will be invited to visit our home. It is bigger inside than it looks from the outside and contains many worlds."

"I do not understand."

"Do not worry! You are not the only one! My brothers Harp and Paschal designed our home world and I have yet to understand all of it."

The Marsupial Foreman felt overwhelmed. These visitors were far more advanced than he even had imagined, He would have to talk to the others about what he had heard.

"Call your Workers back, Sir. We will begin rebuilding objects from the sawdust in five minutes."

The foreman blew a whistle and the Workers, surprised, moved to his side.

"Please sit on the sawing deck while we work. It will be unsafe for you below."

The Workers did as ordered and watched. At first, nothing seemed to change, but as time passed they could see sawdust vanish from the area. Behind them, huge mountains of the by-product of the Sawmill were accumulated, raising the mountains of sawdust to vertiginous heights. Once the sawdust had been removed and the primordial ground level had been revealed, the Atlanteans began binding the sawdust in thick beams that matched in girth and length the beam the Sawmill had produced earlier that day. The Marsupials were in shock. Hundreds of beams were being made out of thin air.

Suddenly, someone looked behind and let out a powerful yell. The Marsupials jumped up and walked to the other side of the sawing deck to watch another unexplainable phenomenon occurring. Sawdust was disappearing at a frantic rate, mountains of the residue seemed to vanish as the visitors walked amongst the shrinking piles, Water vapour rose from where they worked, and huge mounds of dust vanished into nothingness.

To the far side, the stream seemed to dig into a gorge at an alarming rate, as the sawdust bed it had become accustomed to vanished as well. Huge logs, long lost to water-clogging, seemed to sprout out and come to rest on the river’s shore. The stream took speed as it fell ever deeper in the deepening river basin. After several hours, things gradually slowed down and the Atlanteans came back up to the Sawmill by walking along a newly recovered path made out of finely adjusted stones. On the other side of the restored Sawmill, the path continued out of sight.

"Is this your usual way of building roads?" asked Timor, as he walked up to the Marsupials.

"No. our roads are much rougher. We never saw this before."

Timor and Iridia looked at the others questioningly.

"Do you mind if we call in the Architect of our home-world?"

"Why should we? You have been most kind so far."

«Paschal, Harp, we need you planet-side. Port to our location,» requested Timor. Barely an instant later, Paschal and Harp appeared in front of the assembled Marsupials in all their nude glory.

"You asked for us, Timor?"

"Yes. Look at that path’s construction and tell me if what I think is right?"

The two Atlanteans took off at a run and began studying the path. Harp took off uphill and Paschal took to the other side. Yells of surprise could be heard by the Marsupials as the two Boys made discovery after discovery.

"Who are they and where do they come from?" asked an alarmed Foreman.

"These two are the Architect and the Prince of Magic respectively. They are the ones that built our World. I shall wait for their return for them to explain their excitement."

The cries of marvel and shock could be heard resonating in the deep valley as the two Boys made their way along the path. Suddenly, Harp hollered out, calling everyone to his location.

"We better make a run for it. Apparently, the Prince of Magic has made a major discovery. Please follow us as quickly as you can." With that the Atlanteans ported to Harp’s position, vanishing into thin air much to the surprise of the Marsupials.

"I wonder how many shocks I can withstand today," said one Worker to his Foreman.

"And you think you have issues? Consider the fact that I shall need to report that to the other Foremen!"

The Marsupials hopped along the rather wide path to catch up with the visitors. It took them fifteen minutes to reach the Atlantean group who had waited on them patiently, much to the frustration of Harp.

"There you are. I think you will be pleased. The path leads to the entrance of the treasure cave you would have wanted to recover. It is still closed, much to the frustration of our brother Harp," said Ovid.

"Oh. We used to have to repel using ropes to reach it. We never knew it could be so easily accessible from the original surface."

"What that smart-arse has not told you is that the door has a specific symbol. When I reached it, it was all dirty and messy so I began cleaning it up with Magic. As I worked on the surface, it became more polished and suddenly, things clicked into place. That door is made out of Orichalque. It carries a magical signature: our magical signature. This door is the product of Atlantis. As further proof, there is that symbol, here. It is the symbol of Atlantis, the key to Magic, my key!"

"But there is always the need for two keys to open a door."

"That is true," began Paschal. "The other key hole matches my key."

"What does this all mean?"

"Honestly? We shall know when we open the door. Are you willing to let us open the door to the cave? We shall not if you refuse."

Harp pouted but understood his big Brother’s concern.

"Please do. I have lost control of events around here ever since you came with us. I see no reason why I should have a say anymore."

"We feel bad about this. We had no intention of overwhelming you," said Mark as he hugged the Foreman, much to his surprise.

"What is done is done. Please open the door. We used another mechanism to do it, but since you have the keys..."

"Another mechanism?" asked Timor.

"There is that system, over there. I have studied it and it seems that if you moved the planets in a specific position, much like we did on the Earth to open the access to the cave under Mount Sinai, it would open a side-door. But this key system probably opens something much bigger."

"Like when you did with Dad at the Revealing in Thebes’ Throne room?"

"Yes, Timor, much like that, but at a smaller scale."

The Marsupials were lost but kept quiet.

"I think we lost them," said Paschal.

"I am sorry, Forman. We are referring to events that occurred before we came here, on our refuge planet, events that covered thousands upon thousands of orbits of your own planet. We are young and yet immensely old. We shall explain later."

"I thought this was your home-world?" replied the Foreman as he eyed the passing Thebes.

"It is now, but we used to live on a refuge world we had to leave due to its impending destruction. We need to talk about that anyway, later on. Our Ambassadors have a lot to tell you, once things settle down. For now, we shall open the door, because my Brother Harp is climbing up the trees of impatience."

Harp flipped the bird to Paschal and quickly moved to insert his key he always carried on his necklace. Paschal did the same. The insertion of the keys produced a resounding boom followed by a drumming sound that began to play a music that went crescendo. Suddenly the doors split open in the middle.

«Welcome back. Shall we restart the colonies?»

«No. Hold! Things have changed considerably!» ordered Paschal.

«Shall we activate sensors?»

«Yes. Map the sensors to this cave. Do nothing else until told to do so. Calculate elapsed time from star chart!»

«Calculating. Estimated time to result is Local time: one planetary rotation; home-world time is 1.76470588 rotations.»

"Harp! This planet was an Atlantis One colony!"

"How in Hell can you say that?"

"The time ratio! The time ratio! If you divide this planet’s rotation by the rotation of Atlantis One, you get that exact number! We should have guessed it right when we saw that path! This is Atlantean workmanship to the core! And who uses Orichalque but us?"

"Paschal is right, you know. I just learned Atlantean, and that telepathic communication is in Archaic Atlantean," Ovid said.

"We know Atlantis Two never left Earth. We were in a battle with the Elohim from day one and we had nowhere else to go to because our primary word got blown up by the Cyborgs. And these keys are another tip to the origin of the caves. They are unique, but yet they represent who we are, our essence. We knew the keys were old, but we never associated them to something predating Atlantis Two. And remember, the colonists were recalled to Atlantis One prior to the final blow-up."

"You made several good points Paschal. Should we go in?"

"No, not yet. I think we need to inform the Privy Council of the Empire before proceeding further, Harp."

The exchange between the two Brothers was way over the head of the Marsupials but since the oh so talkative Ovid seemed to consider this normal, no one took them for lunatics.

"We are going back home to report to Dad. We have been monitoring your progress from orbit. When do you think things will normalise between your group and the Marsupials?" asked Harp.

"We have no idea. Zen disposed of the leader of the camp we are embedded in, and according to the Foreman of the group we are now with, the confrontational attitude will be widespread. The Marsupials have been in shock ever since the Insects invaded their home-world."

"Okay, Ovid. Expect us back when the Sun rises. By then, we shall have directives from Dad. Foreman, expect us back with probably a number of rather important people. Live in peace and harmony."

Harp and Paschal vanished to reappear on the Bridge of Thebes.

"If I read the on-board clock, it is nones; that means we missed sext and food. Let us go raid the Kitchen!" said Harp, converting to his Sabre-tooth Snow Leopard form. Paschal took the shape of a Sparrow and settled on the back of the Feline.

«Giddy-ha! Go Horsy!» exclaimed Paschal, much to the amusement of the Prince of Magic.

Down below, the Marsupials were again stunned.

"Should we close the doors?" asked one Worker.

"If this cave’s design is up to par with Atlantean design, you need not worry. Nothing uninvited will venture in. We can leave the doors wide open without any risk," said Ovid.

"The day is advancing. Maybe we should make our way back to the camp?" said Mark.

Indeed, the Sun was now low on the horizon, and darkness fell fast in the latitudes they were located. The work force made for a quick walk toward the camp.

While crossing over a wide stream using a rope bridge, one of the Marsupials fell in the water. Without thinking, Harold-Ian dove after him and caught him by the neck. Using his powerful feet and his free arm, he held the Marsupial afloat as they drifted down-river until they reached an outcropping of rock to which the hybrid pulled the Marsupial.

"That was close!" said Timor, as he saw his Son pull the massive Marsupial out of the water. "I shall go help my Son with his rescue. Iridia, please climb on one of the others while I do so."

The other Marsupials watched the events unfold, paralysed by fear. There was a considerable difference between swimming in a calm river and in a white-water stream. They were impressed beyond measure by the grace Harold-Ian showed in the frothing water and his strength, given his size. Even more surprising was the use of resuscitation techniques to revive their comrade, who had swallowed quite a lot of water during his rescue. To add to their shock, they saw the huge visitor literally jump to grasp an overhanging branch, and swing from there to another, just as the first branch broke under his weight. Trees moaned in distress under Timor’s mass, and branches fell everywhere, accompanied by a noise akin to the end of the world. Finally, Timor reached his Son and looked at the Marsupial, who was still disgorging water at every breath, but seemed to be out of danger.

Timor lifted the Marsupial as if he weighed nothing and then jumped in the river to swim across and bring the rescued individual on the proper side so he could be brought to camp. Harold-Ian followed his Dad, wooing the Marsupials by his grace in the turbulent water. Timor climbed up the cliff to bring the still sputtering Marsupial to the roadside.

"He will need a few days of rest, but my Son Harold-Ian did well. His lungs are now mostly clear of water, and my Son used Magic to heal what little damage was done."

The Marsupial was laid on the back of the Pegasus and tied up for the rest of the walk to the camp. He kept puking everything he had in his stomach.

"Your Worker would not be a good Camel rider."

"Is that a Camel?"

"No, this is a Pegasus, and his ride is smoother than most of the other Equines. That is why I picked him to carry your friend."

The group finally reached camp just as the Sun disappeared behind the mountains. The others had already been back for some time and were worried at the delay. The Foreman explained the accident and what had happened afterward, much to the relief of the other Workers. The shaky Marsupial was led to a pellet to sleep off the emotion and rest for a couple of days.

After the evening’s agapes had been eaten, the Foremen met around a fire, since the evening seemed to be rather cool for the season. The Atlanteans had retired early since it was past their normal bedtime by a long shot, so the Marsupials felt free to discuss any topic without worry of eavesdroppers, or so they thought. Zen seemed to be systematically forgotten by the Marsupials, and he sat still under a log well within hearing range of the team leaders.

"So, what have you learned today from the visitors?" asked the Foreman sitting to the right of the Sawmill Foreman.

"You first, please. My report will be exhaustive and take some time."

"The rotary tool is a marvel. After some false starts, we were able to make enough pulleys to last us a life-time. Then someone made poles for the hut that protects the Potter table, and we drove them in the ground before installing struts to weave the thatching into. It is now complete."

"Good. What else?"

"We used the same machine to build pillars for the hut to shelter it. It was a bit more difficult, but that too is done. The roofing is half-complete, and should be done by midday tomorrow."

"What is next?"

"We are building a dock along the lake. It will probably be used to cut the base of the pillars before we sink them in the lake bottom."

"Has anyone used the Potter wheel?"

"No. We have no one that knows how, and there is that kilning oven she mentioned. We have no idea what that is."

"They will probably inform us tomorrow at sunrise."

"Your turn. By the way, the ropes are almost ready to be twined. We will begin that tomorrow."

"Okay. First, the Sawmill is ready and has been tested. But that is not all. They created millions of planks and wood beams from the sawdust. The result is like the mill had never stopped producing and the area is now clear of the mountains of residue."

"Wow!"

"Keep the wow for what comes next."

"What do you mean?"

"The removal of the sawdust revealed a long-lost path that had curb stones so tightly packed together the dust never got between them. Upon seeing that, the big furry one called up reinforcements, and please, do not ask me how, but less than a blink of an eye later, there stood two more. They began examining the path and expressing their emotions about the path’s construction."

"Were they there when you arrived back to camp? I counted and the number seemed the same as had left this morning."

"No. They returned to their home-world after their visit."

"Oh."

"Anyway, that was the beginning of the most enthralling part of the day. One of them had followed the path up the mountainside and seemingly contacted the others. He had made a major discovery. That discovery, you can easily guess, is the sacred cave. The door was closed but he had cleaned it thoroughly. It looked like new!"

"What do you mean?"

"It shone in the Sunlight like gold. And hold your britches! They identified the metal used as something called Orichalque. Apparently, they are the only ones using that kind of metal but I have yet to understand why."

"Something tells me you are holding back on the crux of the subject..."

"And you are right. You remember, we were briefed on how to open the door should one of us ever find it? Well, they found that in the blink of an eye. And... They had the keys!"

"What?"

"You heard me! They had the keys. The two that appeared in the blink of an eye had the keys around their neck! Not only did they know how to open the small door, but they opened the main one, which we never were able to! Remember our history lessons: when we discovered the Repositories of knowledge, they seemed to date from well before we were aware of our own existence. Most of those we found at first were easily accessible, easily found, and easily opened to some extent. As we progressed, more became visible to us, more opened, and of those already known, more areas were open to exploration. I have been thinking about this ever since I have seen them at work and now, even more since I have seen the Cave open. It seems these caves were designed to guide us in our technological evolution by giving us stepping stones upon which to hop the steam."

"But..."

"Hold off for a minute, and let me continue. I believe they are the descendants of those who built these caves. How else could they have the keys and know the combination to the small side-door so quickly?"

"Again, but why did they not identify themselves as such?"

"I believe, and again I have no proof except for the explosion of emotions I saw when they explored the old path, that they had lost the knowledge of the prior visit. They seemed positively pleased at finding the path and then the cave. It is after the opening of the great door that the two visitors decided to return to their home-world. They said they needed to consult with their Dad, and from the reaction of the others, that person must have some importance. They told us to expect them back at dawn."

"We do not know what to do. This is water deeper than I am used to swim."

"Talking about swimming, you should have seen the big and small hairy ones swim the torrent where the rope bridge is. It is like they were taking a walk in the central square. The young one pulled Univida across the river to a landing and pulled him out of the water by himself. And you know Univida weights a considerable amount: it took three of us to pull him out of a hole once. Then the small one performed some strange ritual and Univida spilled water by his mouth and then began breathing. Then his Dad, if I get their filial relationship right, jumped up to a tree branch that broke under his weight. And I am not talking about a small branch. It was twice the width of my tail at its base! He used it to swing from tree to tree and made a mess of the forest but reached his Son quickly, believe me. Then he lifted Univida up with a single hand, jumped in the stream and crossed it to bring him up the cliff to the roadside. We also watched his Son swim back across the stream and it was like watching a Fish climbing the rapids to reach his reproduction site! I have never, ever, seen something so impressive and beautiful! The big one put Univida on the four-legged winged one and we made our way here as quickly as possible. Univida emptied his stomach all along the way. I have never seen him so sick, well, not since he tried to eat one of the Invaders! As you know, Univida is always hungry."

«That is why we call them the Eatees!» thought Zen to the others, eliciting an explosion of silent laughter from the Atlanteans.

"Anyway, what do we do tomorrow?"

"We promised to keep quiet about their presence. We continue to do so. I expect I will get more explanations tomorrow as the day progresses. They are holding back things, and I understand why. We already acted rather improperly toward them yesterday and they have yet to show any sign of aggressivity except that walking rope. And then, it served us and them as well. That old geezer would not have recognised his own breeder had he met her in the dark. Once we have all the pertinent information, we shall advise. I, for one, shall make sure they know if we consider informing other camps. The power they weld ever so lightly tells me they have a lot more experience in power struggles than we ever shall, so I prefer erring on the side of caution rather than brashness. They give a feeling of a well-prepared war machine. We would be stupid to ignore good sense in favour of self-righteous and insulting attitudes. And their ancestors, if I get this right, were here well before ours ever considered leaving the long grass plains we now know as our original habitat. Yet, there are so many things I feel were said but that I did not hear. It unnerves me."

"It unnerves all of us. Let us head for sleep. Try not to brood on today’s events. We shall learn what we must in time."