New Story

[toddyboy]

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><b>CHAPTER 6</b>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"> 

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);">I whirled round and to my utter amazement standing there before me was a young boy, or was it a girl? I wasn’t sure. Probably no more than a teenager, no hair and staring wild eyes; he - she was completely naked. Not a stitch of clothing on him, or was it a she? I just couldn’t tell. The shape and form was human but it had no genitalia. It was flat chested and kind of masculine yet also feminine at the same time. I just couldn’t work out whether it was male or female. It kind of looked like both! It didn’t move, just stood there transfixed, like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>   Without averting my gaze I dug my elbow into Michel who was still marvelling at the sight of that huge complex down below. He looked round and jumped back a step, startled by what he saw.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Jean just turned his head but didn’t move or speak.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    For several seconds all were motionless, the three of us staring incredulously at the strange figure that stood before us.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Jean broke the intense silence. “Who are you?” he asked softly.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>   The curious figure’s wild eyes darted to Jean and its gaze remained fixed on him but it said nothing.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Where did you come from?” I asked.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     The intruder’s head flicked back to me, eying me warily, but again, no reply.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Michel started to move towards it but it stepped back cautiously, maintaining its wide eyed stare as it did so.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     It was a standoff.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Then it spoke, and in a mellow, young sounding voice it said, “Who are <i>you?</i>”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “We came from the surface,” said Jean. “We won’t hurt you. Please tell us, what is this place?”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     The creature looked incredulously at him, as if it couldn’t believe what it was hearing. “You are from the surface?” it exclaimed in a frightened tone. “Why are you here? You shouldn’t be here. Go away, quickly, before they find you.”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Go away from who; who will find us?” asked Jean.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    “You mustn’t be here. They will capture you. Come quickly, I will show you where you can hide,” it urged. And with that it scampered off beckoning to us to follow it.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     The three of us looked at each other, then, realising we weren't going to get any answers to our questions if it got away we started running after it, whatever it was.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     It led us to an outcrop of rocks and into a cave like aperture where the light was very dim but we could still just see where we were going. The creature didn’t stop, it continued on, leading us further inside.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Like three Hobbits following Gollum through the mountains of Mordor we hurried after the flitting figure that scampered off ahead. Then it stopped. “You will be safe here, at least for a while,” it said.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “What is your name,” asked Michel.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    “Name? I don’t have a name. I am simply a drone worker; one of many who labour here.”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     I thought about that for a moment. This …. this thing was neither male nor female, had no name, no identity, spoke English fluently yet seemed to be scared shitless of something or other. What the fuck was going on here!</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Well we’re not going to call you ‘drone worker.’ Well have to call you something though,” I said. “How about Him-she!”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Good call, Tod. That about sums it up,” said Michel, nodding.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Jean concurred. He had to admit, it <i>was </i>kind of fitting.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Tell us about this place, Him-she,” I said. “What goes on here?”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     The little creature seemed to have calmed down somewhat now that it was out of the open spaces but it still looked extremely perplexed. “You shouldn’t know.” It warned.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “I wouldn’t be asking if we didn’t want to know,” I said.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     The creature nodded its head slightly and crimped its lower lip with it’s thumb and forefinger, as it were considering something. “I, I have been trained never to lie so I <i>must</i> tell you the truth,” it said thoughtfully.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Well?” Michel urged.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “This is the central inmates control centre,” it said.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     None of us were any the wiser after hearing that cryptic explanation.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Inmates?” asked Michel.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “You are surface dwellers. You should never really know about what you have just seen or what I am telling you,” it warned.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “What do you mean by inmates? Do you mean prisoners, is that what you mean. Prisoners of what, of who?” asked Jean, totally perplexed by what this creature was babbling on about.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Yes inmates. Prisoners of the enslavers; my masters,” it warned.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Masters?” queried Michel.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     It looked pitifully at the three of us and slowly nodded its head from side to side as if contemplating what to say next. “This entire planet is a prison colony. My masters manage and control it. They are the wardens of the Penal Division, Earth. Though I am different to you physically, in some ways I am still part human and I suffer the same malady as you. I too am a prisoner though I can roam freely here. I have never had any physical contact with surface dwellers though. You are the first living and breathing specimens I have ever seen.”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Are you trying to tell us that we are prisoners too?” asked Jean.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Him-she looked exasperated, as if he were communicating to a child. “Of course; we <i>all</i> are. I will try to explain to you as best I can from what I know but I don’t expect you to comprehend what I say.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Aeons ago several different renegade species were rounded up and brought to this planet for processing and incarceration. They were then experimented on and modified using bio-technology. The purpose of bringing them here was to take them out of general circulation - permanently. It had been determined that certain types of species had DNA that was susceptible to being non-conformist and would produce offspring who had similar traits. Taking them out of circulation completely would ensure their kind didn’t infiltrate into the mainstream. They could be brought here and left to their own devices so they could non misbehave all they liked on a planet far away from mainstream Galactic Federation society. Beings who were transported here were classified as renegades and trouble makers; enemies of the Federation. Once here they were destined never to leave. The truth is that the human race, as you know it today, didn’t evolve naturally from apes as your scientists and biologists would have you believe. It was artificially conceived in laboratories right here. You are the descendants of those first genetically modified prisoners.”<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    The three of us just looked silently at each other as though we’d all woken from a bad dream only to find they were now in a nightmare, a living nightmare!</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    Him-she seemed to understand what we were thinking. “You should never have come down here. It is too much for you to comprehend. But here you are and you have asked me to explain, and so I have.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “How can it be that we have never heard of this before,” asked Michel.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>  “It was set up this way,” Him-she began. “Better that the prisoners aren’t even aware that they are incarcerated. It makes for a more subservient and controllable population. Humans rarely have a chance to understand what they are really doing on this planet, or why they are here. They spend a quarter of their life growing into a full grown organism after which they have approximately fifty years of useful time to figure things out, but the way the surface society is manipulated by my masters, with the need to work, eat, sleep, pay taxes, and in many cases avoid annihilation in the conflicts and wars that are instigated by them, that useful time is more than halved. Add to that the fact that the majority of the human population are brought up in harsh and indigenous environments and have to spend most of their waking hours struggling to obtain simple basics like shelter or food; they simply do not have the time or inclination to do anything but try to survive.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “By keeping them constantly distracted and all during a relatively short life cycle, humans rarely, if ever, get the opportunity to turn their attention to other sentient things such as where they actually came from, what they are doing here and why. In this way they are kept under control, in one safeguarded place and out of mischief. <span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Some do rise above this, despite even the harshest setbacks or conditions they find themselves in. These are the more aware and sentient beings. They are classified as potential trouble sources and are carefully monitored to ensure they don’t go stirring up too much trouble within the general populace. Usually, they are eliminated early on. A few notable recent cases were individuals you may have heard of such as Vishnu, Krishna, Aristotle, Buddha, Christ, etc. But even though those individuals tried, they could never get free of the trap they found themselves in because it’s so well hidden.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Human society has always been cleverly controlled and manipulated to ensure they never grasp the full truth of what really goes on here. Governments and mental health practitioners have long been established to control, manipulate and penalise those few who have made attempts to delve into the mysteries of life, such as philosophers, spiritualist and the like. Politicians and leaders usually have them imprisoned or executed for attempting to upset the order of things. Taxes cripple them and then there are the mind altering drugs that are prevalent everywhere on the surface of the planet now.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “My masters have spies and emissaries who operate on the surface in human form. They cultivate key positions of influence to ensure there is just enough chaotic activity to keep the masses busy with a multitude of catastrophes and problems. They are masters of manipulation, using telepathy and mind control they infiltrate key groups and organisations to achieve their goal of total chaos.”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “My God. Is there no way of stopping this?” asked Jean.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>   “Stop. No!” Himshe retorted. “Any human who has attempted to unravel this complex labyrinth of deceit and subjugation didn’t and doesn’t stand a chance of success. The enslavers have a saying – ‘What came to Earth, stays on Earth - forever.’<span>  The protocols prohibit inmates to know why they are here. They must also never be allowed to leave the confines of this solar system through their own efforts. But it has now reached the tipping point.”</span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “What do you mean by that?” I asked.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>   “It means that the human population on the surface has now reached what my masters call the ‘tipping point.’ That means there are too many humans and they have become too clever with technology. Alarm bells began ringing down here when humans devised a means to send humans into space. They have to be prevented from getting off this planet at all costs and culled back to at least half their current number and their technology severely curtailed if that occurs. My masters work tirelessly to suppress the populace but are now formulating a plan using new deadly viruses to unleash a pandemic that will wipe out the majority of your species.” <span>   </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>      “My God, this can’t be real,” gasped Michel.<span>   </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “But it is very real I assure you,” Him-she responded.<span>     </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    “So… when is this mass cull of the human race supposed to occur?” asked Michel.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “It has already begun,” Him-she imparted.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>   Jean, generally the most composed of the three of us was obviously becoming slightly unhinged by all that he was hearing. “<i>How</i> has it begun?” he asked.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Him-she shrugged: “Wars, famine, disease, pollution, starvation and many other maladies; all these things are created to keep the population from growing too large and becoming too clever. You come from the surface. You must be aware of this. However, it is a constant point of wonder to my masters that humans are so resilient, that they somehow overcome these obstacles and still continue to survive and multiply. That is why they have determined that the human race must be culled in a more efficient and permanent way.”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>   “Holy crap, that’s out of this world – literally,” I gasped. “So what about you, what’s your story?” I asked.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Him-she just stared blankly at me. “I have no story. As I told you, I am simply a non-gender drone, born and bred to serve my masters who run this facility. I was created like this so I can’t breed, and so I can carry out the menial tasks they don’t want to do themselves. There are hundreds more like me. The only other difference is that my DNA has been programmed to allow me a much longer life cycle than yours; somewhere in the region of three hundred years.”<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “So how old are you now then?” asked Jean.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “I am approximately a hundred and twenty of your years old.”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>   I looked incredulously at the young looking figure standing in front of me. “A hundred and twenty years old? Jesus, you don’t look a day over eighteen!” I gasped.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “How come you know all this?” asked Michel.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “I watch and I listen, Him-she replied. “The enslavers don’t seem to care what I hear or see. I am no threat to them. They know I cannot escape and even if I did, where would I go; into the tunnels? We all know they don’t lead to anywhere. I would simply get lost, and eventually die of thirst or hunger. I am a worker inmate. I know my fate, unlike you, until you found this place that is.”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     The three of us looked at one another aghast. We were, to put it mildly, a little overwhelmed with the information being imparted to us.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “How long has this place been in existence?” asked Michel.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>   “Since before the human species appeared on the surface of the Earth,” replied Him-she. “This apparatus was conceived and commissioned by the Great Lord Osiris, otherwise known to your ancestors as the King of the Underworld. He was the prime architect of this and also the key figure responsible for the destruction of the cities and tunnels that once encircled the subterranean regions of this planet. There was once a great civilisation that lived beneath the surface before Osiris and his cohorts arrived here, the people of Ra. They came from Nibiru, a barren and deserted planet that had a highly elliptical orbit around the sun. They preferred Earth despite the fact that the surface of the planet had been rendered uninhabitable, scorched and burnt by radioactive dust clouds from previous warring invader forces. It had a stable orbit and close proximity to the sun and more importantly no inhabitants other than a few mutated reptiles roaming around so they settled here. They harnessed the power of the sun and channeled its energy below ground where they built huge underground cities whose populations numbered in the millions. The tunnels connected these cities via solar powered vessels.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “The people of Ra were not a warlike race. They were more technically minded and very adept at engineering and harnessing natural energy. They were also skilled architects and builders. They also weren’t overly concerned with security and defensive measures because they had no adversaries here. When the invaders did arrive they weren’t too concerned because they were physically stronger and were some three times the size of Osiris’s legionnaires but they lacked their adversary’s skill and technology of warfare. It was this simple fact that led to them eventually being overcome and annihilated. Now the cities are empty and none of the tunnels are in use anymore.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>  “The legend goes that once the people of Ra were finally exterminated the triumphant Lord Osiris proclaimed himself Governor of the Earth and was then commissioned by his peers to create an escape proof prison here to cater for the ever burgeoning population of renegades, criminals and political subversives that were filling up gaols dotted around the galaxy, costing a fortune to run and expending an enormous amount of resources. Experiments were carried out on the prisoners who were sent here in their hundreds of thousands. From these experiments came the genus of the human race. A species with weak bodies and a much shorter lifespan.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    “Earth thereafter was referred to as the ‘prison planet’ and for millennia afterwards new prisoners would be shipped here, never to return to their homes again. For this highly successful and monumental achievement Lord Osiris was further promoted and awarded a place on the Galactic Confederacy Senate where some say he still is, somewhere out there in the vast regions of space. My masters continue to follow the protocols laid down by him to this day. The word ‘earth’ by the way translates in Lord Osiris’ native language as ‘forgotten.” <span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     I looked knowingly at Michel and Jean. “So that’s what that city we found was, and the tunnels. It all makes sense. That is, if anything could make sense of any this,” I groaned.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    Jean nodded. “Everything I ever wanted to know I have just learned in less time than it takes to gut and cook a fish. The legends of Nibiru, Osiris and the people of Ra are mysteries to me no more,” he said.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Michel was more pragmatic in his response. “I just want to get the hell out of here,” he whined.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “A wise decision. I can show you how!” said Him-she, who now appeared to have brightened up upon hearing Michel’s words. “I will be more than pleased to assist you to leave, though now you know your true destiny what does it matter whether you do or not? You are just prisoners here, like the other billions of humans up on the surface.”<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “If you know of a way out please then lead the way. I don’t want to spend any longer here than I have to,” urged Michel.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Jean was also eager to leave. Me too.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>   “Whether we can do something about it or not, we would prefer to do it on our own terms in an environment that we at least know something about, Him-she,” said Jean.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    Him-she simply shrugged and nodded. “Then follow me. There is an old abandoned bore hole duct not far from where we are now; a remnant of the Ra dynasty. It was, I believe, one of their solar transfer devices but I think it has caved in near the surface now.”<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “We’ll give it a try,” I said. “Ready when you are, Him-she!”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Good to its word, the little creature led us to the location of another structure, similar to the one we’d climbed back near the huge lake. The area surrounding it was deserted. It rose right up to the ceiling of the cavern where at the top was an opening.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Himshe had one last parting gift, this time it was something tangible; phosphorous rocks. “These emit some light in the darkness,” it explained.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     We took one each. Before we started our ascent I asked Him-she something: “Can we trust you not to tell anyone down here that you ever saw us?” I asked.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     All I got in response to that question was a blank stare. “I don’t know what you mean by trust,” it replied. “I believe that is a human trait. I only know that I cannot lie when I am asked a question. However, I also am not permitted to originate communication to my masters, only receive and obey orders from them. If they do not ask me I will not tell them. No human has ever ventured down here, ever, so it is highly unlikely that I will be asked if I have ever seen or spoken with one.”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     That was good enough for me and so we started our climb. 50 metres up I looked down. Him-she was gone.</span>

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<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><b>CHAPTER 7</b>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);">     

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);">The duct was the same diameter as the one we’d unsuccessfully attempted to climb up near the city by the underground lake. The entrance to it was partially blocked with fallen boulders that had jammed between mangled brackets but there was just enough room for each of us to squeeze through one at a time.

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     I went up first and managed to make it through okay. Michel came next but he was bigger than me and almost got himself stuck. With a bit of coaxing and pulling from me while Jean pushed from below he managed to shoehorn himself up and through, though he nearly lost his footing as he did so. Jean came through next and he also nearly slipped and fell but he made it eventually.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     The shaft continued upwards a <i>long</i> way. The boulders that we’d just squeezed through had obviously smashed the central pole and the brackets into a twisted mess as they’d came down. To ascend any further we now had to clamber up the side of the shaft, using the broken sections of the brackets as hand grabs and footholds much like a mountain climber would climb a rock face. It was treacherous going in the semi darkness with only the dim light of the phosphorous rocks to light the way.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     We climbed for what seemed to be hours, stopping every so often to catch our breath and recuperate. When we’d clawed and pulled our way up what seemed to have been an interminably long way we encountered yet another blockage. This time there were no gaps to squeeze through. The shaft was well and truly blocked by a mixture of rocks and earth that had formed around a broken ring that was smaller in circumference than the diameter of the shaft walls below it. This ring of stone protruded about two feet out from the walls of the duct.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    Our morale was ebbing. The three of us were knackered, thirsty and now barricaded in and trapped yet again. We didn’t have enough energy to anything more than just hang there from the broken brackets in the semi darkness and contemplate our fate in silence.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     There’s a strange thing that happens in your psyche when you’re at the end of your endurance and faced with virtually zero chance of survival. Something kicks in. I don’t profess to know what it is, whether it’s adrenaline being released into your bloodstream or if it’s what’s been called ‘second wind’ or even if it’s just super willpower, but something happens. Maybe it’s that characteristic that humans have just like Him-she was saying; the thing his masters could never understand - the human race’s ability to overcome suppression and insurmountable odds and still survive. Or, maybe it was simply that none of us wanted to go a mile or so back down this bloody duct again!<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     The stones and rock above had accumulated above this ring, probably during a landslide in the past, just like the one in Kfar-Hazir. The larger boulders below, which had probably fallen in much earlier had most likely smashed one side of the ring as they fell. What we were looking at now was almost certainly the result of a second cave in which had been prevented from falling any further by the smaller circumference ring. The only way up would be to dig through the boulders and hopefully create a gap big enough to crawl through, but doing that posed its own dangers. We were in a pretty precarious situation here. Dislodging a pile of rocks and earth from above could result in it eventually dropping down on top of us!</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     The only way of doing this without getting crushed by the many tons of debris above would be to carefully chip away at it from below whilst remaining under what was left of the stone ring. It was a risky procedure that could kill all of us if it went wrong, but there was nothing else for it, we were determined to reach the surface and judging by the length of time we’d been climbing the chances were that we were probably not too far from the top, so we got to work.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Using the rope and digging utensils that fortunately I’d insisted we bring with us, we each secured ourselves to the remnants of the brackets jutting out from the wall and began the arduous task of digging into the earth around the rocks above. This was much harder than any digging we’d done previously. Reaching upwards with our very basic tools and hacking away at it we made some progress but it was exhausting work. We could only each do a five minute stint at a time before it felt like our arms were falling off.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    After less than an hour of this our arms literally <i>did</i> feel like they were going to fall off. We were all having a well earned rest when suddenly there was a graunching, rumbling noise above. All three of us immediately pressed ourselves against the section of wall under the ring as the mass above our heads started to shift. Then the whole lot came down! Literally tons of rock and earth whooshed down past us from above, missing us by inches. We heard it falling, falling, falling and crashing till we couldn’t hear anything any more. <span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Then it was all over. The dust and debris caused by the falling debris filled the confined space of the duct. We had to cover our faces with our shirts to shield ourselves from it in order to be able to breathe at all. Eventually, the dust cleared a little, revealing yet another shaft that disappeared upwards into yet more darkness.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    Spurred on by the breakthrough, yet exhausted from our exertions and still choking from the dust, we clambered, one by one, ever further upwards, using the broken off brackets for support. Mercifully, this next shaft looked like it only went upwards for a few more metres. We kept going, only to find that it opened out into what could only be described as some kind of small altar room cut out of the surrounding rock that by the looks of it had been used for sacrificial rites. The compacted rock and earth that we’d just dislodge had obviously formed part of the floor of this place as there was now a hole in the centre of it through which we climbed.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Above us yet another vertical shaft went up from the ceiling of this chamber. This new shaft stretched upwards for approximately another ten metres or so and as with the one just below us had broken off bracket stumps all the way up the walls. Using these stumps to climb up it we made it to the top only to discover it was blocked solid, this time by what looked like manmade stone slabs. This impenetrable roof was the last straw for me.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “I think we’re just below the surface,” I gasped. “Those slabs up there look manmade. I reckon we could chip away at the mortar joints and dislodge one of them, but I can’t handle doing it right now. I’m shagged out.”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Michel concurred, as did Jean. All three of us had been climbing, hacking, climbing and hacking some more for longer than we could remember. We were dead beat. We unanimously decided it was time for a rest or one of us was going to make a mistake and injure ourselves, so we climbed back down to the chamber and collapsed onto the rock floor.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     As we sat there with our backs propped against the walls of this underground chamber, we each took a long swig of water from our flasks and looked around at the intricate carvings and paintings that adorned the walls.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “This was made by someone other than the people who built this shaft and that place down below,” said Michel. “It’s funny to think that whoever used this altar room almost certainly had no idea of what lay just beneath them.”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Probably they figured this was as far as it went and so they dug this chamber out to use as some ritual worship or sacrificial slaughter. What do you think, Jean?” I asked.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     But Jean didn’t hear my question. He was preoccupied with one of the paintings on the wall depicting a serpent or dragon eating its own tail. “That’s an Ouroboros, an ancient symbol,” he remarked. “The name originates from within the Greek language; <i>oura</i> meaning tail and, <i>boros</i> meaning eating, thus he who eats the tail.”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Looks like the symbol for infinity to me,” I replied.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    “That’s pretty much what it is,” agreed Jean. “The Ouroboros represents the perpetual cyclic renewal of life and infinity, the concept of eternity and the eternal return; the cycle of life, death and rebirth leading to immortality, as in the phoenix. It can also represent the idea of primordial unity related to something existing in or persisting before any beginning with such force or qualities it cannot be extinguished.”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “You’re a walking encyclopaedia, you know that Jean?” I quipped.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Jean just smiled and nodded playfully. “After what I have just witnessed there is no encyclopaedia large enough to contain the knowledge I now have. I made it my life’s work to study the ancient philosophies and myths. Now I know the real truth, all that I learned previously fades into insignificance. The Ouroboros has been important in religious and mythological symbolism, but it’s also been frequently used in alchemical illustrations where it symbolises the circular nature of the alchemist's opus. It’s often been associated with Gnosticism and Hermeticism. Carl Jung interpreted the Ouroboros as having an archetypal significance to the human psyche. They were all right I suppose, in their own way, only they didn’t know the whole story. My God, what those men would have given to see what we have just witnessed!” he said.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “To be honest, I think they’d have been scared shitless,” said Michel.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Perhaps so,” Jean replied.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    All three of us were fading fast now and we became silent, each deep in our own thoughts. It had been an arduous climb and we weren’t out of the woods yet. We were still trapped underground and hardly able to keep our eyes open we were so exhausted. One by one we dozed off and slept for a solid six hours.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Jean was the first to wake. He roused Michel and me and we lost no time in climbing the shaft up above and setting ourselves up for what we hoped would be our last hack for freedom.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Reaching the top, we each secured ourselves to the side of the shaft just under the roof with ropes tied to the remnants of the brackets. Then we all began chipping away at the gaps between the square slabs above. </span>It took a couple of hours of arm wrenching work but eventually our efforts culminated in a small crack through which I could see a faint glimmer of light. Another hour or so of this and one of the slabs above began to move slightly. Half an hour later and it was starting to become loose around the edges. 

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “I think it’s got a lip on the upper side. It seems to be resting on the other stones around it like a manhole would,” I explained to the other two. “I think there’s a chance we can move it upwards if we all push at once.”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     And so, with each of us with our feet teetering on a small bracket and tethered with a piece of rope to each another we pushed upwards, but it was hard going. The slab moved an inch or so but then it slammed back down again. It was too heavy. After several goes at this we were all sweating buckets and were exhausted.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “We need some more leverage,” I gasped.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Leverage against what?” Michel asked. We only have this rope. There’s nothing we could use below unless we go all the way back down and I’m not doing that.”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    “I’ve got an idea!” said Jean. We could weave a spider’s web of rope between these side brackets till its strong enough for us to lay on and then push upwards with our feet. We’ve got just about enough rope to do that. Legs are stronger than arms and we’ve got six of them between us.”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     It was as good an idea as any, so we got to work weaving and tying the rope back and forth, again and again, till eventually we had a kind of pseudo hammock of interweaved rope strands hanging directly underneath the central slab. It took a bit of trial and error to manoeuvre ourselves into position but eventually all three of us were ready with our feet pushed up against the loosened slab.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Ok, push!” I ordered.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     The slab shifted a little, then it moved upwards a couple of inches. Dust began falling out of the cracks causing all three of us to shield our eyes and spit it out of our mouths. The loss of concentration caused their momentum to be lost and the slab slammed shut again.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Shit! Right. This time, okay. Once again; push!” I said, still coughing and spitting out dust..<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     This time we got a better crack at it and the slab lifted up a little more.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Push it to the side!” Jean grunted.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     We did, and it moved sideways. When we finally released pressure, one edge of the square slab was now resting at an angle on one side of the opening.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Again. Push!” I groaned.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>   The slab slid sideways some more, and then, there above us, through a neat triangular opening was the night sky in all its starry splendour!</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Jesus! You see that!” I gasped.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Michel and Jean saw it alright and it gave us the necessary resolve to finish the job.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     It took another three momentous efforts to dislodge the slab till there was enough of a gap for a man to climb through.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     I elected to go up first. Clambering up into a sitting position, I precariously got to my feet then tried reached for the opening.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Ah! my leg!” Michel screamed.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    I’d accidentally stuck my right foot in Michel’s upper thigh as I’d tried to gain some stability on the wobbling hammock of rope.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Quit moaning and push me up,” I barked.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Michel bit his lip, cupped his hands under my right foot, and pushed.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     I grabbed hold of the stone lip with both hands, and with as much strength as I could muster pulled myself up and through the gap.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Michel came up next, helped by Jean.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Finally, we pulled Jean out and the three of us lay there gasping and spluttering on a flat stone surface, utterly exhausted.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     I turned over and lay on my back. “I don’t bloody believe it,” I gasped. “We did it!”</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “But where are we?” said Jean.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     “Who cares. We’re out. That’s all I’m interested in, Michel croaked.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     Our eyes were quite accustomed to darkness by now and it soon became apparent that we were in the middle of a very large ancient ruin that resembled the Parthenon. The place was deathly silent save for the odd far away rumbling noise that we guessed must have either been distant thunder or explosions. We had absolutely no idea where we were. We could have been on the moon for all we knew. Nevertheless, we were out and free of the underground prison that we’d been trapped in for almost a week, and that was good enough!<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     With no clue as to our location, or even which country we were in, we made our way past the huge gothic pillars that formed the perimeter of this monolithic structure and stumbled out into the open. On the distant horizon glowing yellow and orange lights signified some kind of activity. We figured it had to be some kind of bombing raid going on. It was far enough away to not be a threat but it immediately brought home the fact that there was a war going on and we’d better not get caught up in it.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>    All around us were an assortment of scattered boulders, broken masonry and ruined structures. Still no nearer to ascertaining where we actually were we made our way across a wide and relatively flat space, circumventing the odd boulder and masonry piece that barred our way till we reached what appeared to be a stone escarpment that stood at least fifteen metres above the desert floor. Realising we were on some kind of man made plateau we started to clamber down the external walls that made up its boundaries, which were quite steep. It was a precarious trip down in the darkness which was only alleviated a little by the ghostly silver hue of the moonlight. When we finally reached the lower flat ground we walked another hundred metres or so away from the plateau so we could get a better look at it.<span> </span></span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"><span>     As Jean turned round to look he drew in a gasp, instantly recognising what it was.</span>

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);"> 

<p style="text-align:justify;font-family:'Times New Roman';color:rgb(0,0,0);">To be continued .................................

This post was last modified: 24-03-2020, 10:35 AM by toddyboy.