The Eternity Machine Read online

  “Do you believe in fate?” Samson asked.

  Selene pursed her lips. “No, I guess I don’t.”

  “What do you believe in then?”

  “Things I can touch.”

  “Are you an atheist?”

  That seemed like an odd question. “Does it matter what I am?” Selene asked.

  Samson didn’t answer that.

  “No, I’m not an atheist,” Selene said. “That would mean I know whether God exists or not. I haven’t been everywhere so how could I know. I’m an agnostic, I suppose. Why do you ask?”

  “I do believe in fate,” Samson said, “actually in Providence. This is a strange night. I have long waited for such an event to show me the beginning.”

  “What beginning?” Selene asked.

  Samson smiled in the darkness. He had white teeth. “I have been driving up and down the mountain this evening. The hot weather is a worldwide phenomenon. Did you know that?”

  “We didn’t, no,” Selene said.

  “I believe the globally hot weather is significant. In fact…I have a confession to make.”

  Jack grew tense, putting his hand on the gun.

  “I have heard a hum before,” Samson said. “I have heard it more and more often lately. I have also heard of Souk. I remember the Egyptian well.”

  “What?” Selene asked.

  “I am Samson, but I am also known to a few as the Old Man of the Mountain.”

  -64-

  ALAMUT CASTLE

  IRAN

  Jack didn’t trust the big man. There was explosive power in the man’s gait. The Assyrian exuded a feeling of hyper-competence and therefore deadliness.

  Jack remembered where he’d seen another individual move in a similar fashion. It had been at the D’erlon Plant in the Ardennes.

  The three of them left the jeep behind, entering an area of floodlights hooked to the scaffolding. Samson steered them toward a postern gate.

  Alamut Castle was part masonry and part of the mountain. What had Selene said earlier? “Alamut” meant “Eagle’s Nest.” The Qazvin Plains spread out below them. With only swords, spears, arrows and catapults for weapons, the fortress would have nearly been impenetrable. Jack could well understand why the first Assassin had wanted the stronghold. It also made sense why it had taken the all-conquering Mongols to root the Assassins from this vantage.

  “If you’re the Old Man of the Mountain,” Jack said, “it stands to reason you’re not the foreman renovating the castle?”

  Samson glanced back at Jack. “That doesn’t follow. I am indeed the foreman. It’s the perfect assignment.”

  Assignment? Jack thought, that seemed like an odd word choice.

  “Why would Muslims allow a Christian such a position of authority?” he asked.

  Samson chuckled. “You have an odd idea of how things are run in Iran. I’m a hard worker. Even better, I’m excellent at delegating authority and getting my men to work. I admit, my size helps in this. Few care to disappoint me. That’s worth money. It is the same everywhere when people truly want things done. They hire the best they can. Why would it be any different here?”

  “That makes sense, I suppose,” Jack mumbled.

  Selene glanced at him. He gave her the barest of shrugs. She glanced at the giant. Selene was carrying the gym bag by its strap and clutching Souk’s notebook in her other hand.

  Samson opened the postern door, taking a flashlight sitting in an alcove, clicking it on.

  “You really impressed Souk,” Selene told Samson.

  “I remember.”

  “Did he ever end up telling you about the priestess of Ammon?”

  “Refresh my memory,” Samson said.

  As they walked the halls, climbing stone staircases, moving through long passageways and finally going down spiral stone steps, Selene told the big man Souk’s tale about Cambyses and Alexander the Great.

  “If Souk’s right,” Selene said at the end, “that means the priestess would have to have been over two hundred years old. I simply can’t accept that.”

  Samson turned around with the flashlight held negligently in his left hand. It wasn’t as hot down here in the guts of the mountain fortress.

  “I have studied the past intently,” the Assyrian said. “This was a Shia stronghold once, and I am Christian by heritage. Still, I have discovered…interesting facts concerning Alamut Castle. A marvelous library existed during the time of the Assassins. It drew philosophers and other students. There is a legend that the library originated with the Old Man’s mistress. She was a woman of rare talents. The legend tells of her genius, claiming that she taught Hasan-i Sabbah the unique Assassin techniques.”

  “You mean how Hasan drugged his best assassins, bringing them into a fake paradise?” Selene asked.

  “That and other techniques,” Samson said. “In truth, her genius allowed the Nizari Ismaili to hold onto power as long as they did.”

  “Wait a minute,” Selene said. “You’re not suggesting this woman lived the length of the Assassin kingdom?”

  “The legend says she did.”

  “Hasan captured the castle in 1090, just before the First Crusade. The Assassins held it until 1256.” Selene touched her fingers. “That’s 166 years.”

  “Which is similar to Souk’s two hundred years,” Samson said.

  “You can’t be serious. People don’t live two hundred years. They don’t even live 166 years.”

  “You are not a person of the Book,” Samson said. “If you were, you would know that Methuselah lived 969 years. Adam lived 950 years.”

  Selene glanced at Jack before staring at Samson. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “I am giving you data. I’m saying there are records of people living more than two hundred years.”

  Selene scoffed. “Sure. There are legends of fire-breathing dragons, too. That doesn’t mean I believe in them. Unicorns and griffins abounded in ancient tales. Are you going to tell me this woman flew into Alamut Castle on Pegasus?”

  “I do not care for your mockery,” Samson said.

  “And I don’t care for your Methuselah reference. I’m dead serious about what I’ve been telling you.”

  “As am I,” Samson said.

  “You believe this legendary woman existed?” Selene asked. “You’re saying that she started an oracle at the Siwa Oasis and in later years she migrated here and began the Assassins?”

  “Yes,” Samson said. “She worked from behind the scenes, has been working in history’s background for untold millennia.”

  “That doesn’t hold,” Jack said. “It’s one thing to say Methuselah lived 969 years. It’s another to say a woman has been alive for thousands upon thousands of years.”

  “Maybe it’s not the same woman,” Samson said with a shrug. “Maybe it is different women with the same goal, all working to achieve the same purpose.”

  “What purpose?” Selene asked.

  “Ah,” Samson said. “That is the question of the ages.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Selene said. “You’re saying Souk’s woman, the one who supposedly spoke to Cambyses and Alexander the Great, are two different women?”

  “No. I think they are the same. I think these women live unnaturally long lives. I do think the priestess of the Siwa Oasis is different from the one who began the Assassins by using Hasan-i Sabbah.”

  “No self-respecting Shia would want to hear that,” Selene said.

  “True.”

  “Why do you believe what you’re saying?” Jack asked.

  “Yes,” Samson said. “That is the right question. How do you know? How do you know the Earth orbits the Sun? How do you know George Washington was the first President of the United States? Have you been on a spaceship watching the Earth orbit the Sun? Did you see George Washington? No. Others tell us these things. Yet, we believe they are facts.”

  “You’ve read about this woman?” Jack asked.

  “I have,” Samson said.

>   “Your tone implies an ‘and’,” Selene said.

  “I have also seen advanced technology,” Samson said. “It is beyond our present technology. That has caused me to wonder if the women in the past had access to the greater technology, allowing each of them extended life.”

  “Who are you?” Selene asked. “Who are you really?”

  The big man expanded his chest. He was indeed huge. He exhaled, nodding slowly. “I am a genetic experiment,” Samson said. “I am one of Mother’s children.”

  Jack and Selene traded glances.

  “Mother?” Selene asked.

  “The present incarnation of the women behind the veil of history,” Samson said in a solemn voice.

  “You’re part of the shadowy organization,” Selene said, “the one that’s been hunting us.”

  “I was part of it once, yes.”

  “What does that mean?” Selene asked.

  Samson turned his head, peering at a spot in the shadows. “I am a genetic experiment. I am stronger, faster and smarter than ordinary men. Why and how Mother did this, I don’t know. I refused an assignment once. Mother told me she would punish me if I continued in my stubbornness. I still refused her. I cannot murder for her, as she desires. The Book taught me that. Mother sent others like me to hunt me down. In the end, they captured me. I went to a hideous place, and there, genetic surgeons altered me yet again. Now, I am bound to Alamut Castle, to its near environs. We know it more accurately as Station Eight.”

  “This is Station Eight?” Selene asked with excitement in her voice.

  Samson didn’t answer.

  “What happens if you leave Alamut Castle?” Jack asked.

  “I’ll melt.”

  “That means…what?” Jack asked.

  “My body will overheat.”

  Jack frowned. “How is that even possible?”

  “My body will heat at the atomic level,” Samson said. “The transmitters will focus on my molecules, radiating intense heat through them. Soon, I will literally burn up. I’ve seen it done to dogs. I can still hear their howls in my nightmares.”

  “That’s horrible,” Selene said.

  “Yes.”

  “Why does she let you live?” Jack asked.

  “Maybe in the hope I’ll change my mind,” Samson said, “maybe as an example of how she can turn someone’s life into Hell on Earth.”

  “You’ve never tried to contact the authorities?” Jack asked.

  “I don’t care to die in a hideous fashion.”

  “But you told Souk some of these things,” Selene said.

  “I whispered to him certain truths,” Samson said. “I stayed within the rules of the game.”

  “What game?” Selene asked.

  “Mother lives by a strict set of rules. Her children stray from them at their peril.”

  “What is Station Eight?” Jack asked.

  Samson nodded. “I’ll show you what I can.”

  “Why?” Jack asked.

  “What do you mean?” the big man asked.

  “You don’t know who I am,” Jack said.

  “I do. You’re an Intelligence agent. You already admitted you’re Americans. That would imply you work for an American Intelligence agency.”

  “Which means that your telling us this is telling the authorities. You’re breaking the rules.”

  “I realize this,” Samson said in a bleak voice.

  “Why have you changed your mind?” Jack asked.

  For a time, Samson didn’t say a thing. Finally, he whispered, “Because I think The Day is almost upon us.”

  -65-

  UNDER ALAMUT CASTLE

  IRAN

  “What is The Day?” Selene asked.

  “It is the culmination of Mother’s work,” Samson said, “the reason for these stations.”

  “Which is?” Selene asked.

  “I have no idea. I don’t think anyone but Mother does.”

  “What do the stations do?”

  “Maybe I can finally find out,” Samson said. He faced a blank wall of stone, bent at the knees and reached to the base. His fingers disappeared into the stone. They must have moved a latch. There was a clink.

  Heavy, hidden stones ground against each other. Slowly, the wall lifted upward like a castle gate revealing a smooth steel corridor. The wall halted its upward movement. A diffuse glow began to brighten the ceiling of the metal corridor.

  Samson ducked under the lifted wall, heading into the corridor.

  “Wait a minute,” Selene said.

  The Assyrian turned around, regarding them.

  “Are you suggesting this metal corridor was fashioned in 1090 A.D.?” Selene asked.

  Samson laughed. “No. I would never suggest that.”

  “Okay,” Selene exhaled. “Good. When do you think it was built?”

  “Long before 1090, maybe in the Fourth or Fifth Millennium B.C,” Samson said.

  “What?” Selene exploded. “You expect us to believe that? There’s no evidence of any kind of high technology in early human history.”

  “Legends say otherwise,” Samson said. “Or have you never heard of Atlantis?”

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Selene said. “You’re going to try to snow me with that?”

  “Atlantis, the Antediluvian world, ancient astronauts, our world is rife with legends that speak about high technology in early human history or prehistory. Why can’t there be a grain of truth in the various tales?”

  “I’m looking at a metal corridor hidden behind a wall of stone down here in the bottom of Alamut Castle,” Selene said. “The idea the corridor is older than history… That’s preposterous.”

  Samson shook his head. “There are hundreds of tales throughout the world of hidden ones working at an unimaginable conspiracy. These stories have some truth in them, too. How does one keep such a thing hidden over the centuries, over the millennium? By telling no one.”

  “I’m not buying this,” Selene said. “You knew about the conspiracy. Souk knew. How secret could it be?”

  “I knew because I was born into it. Souk knew a tiny portion because I told him. My point is that Mother is the key to understanding the truth behind a thousand whispered tales.”

  “Okay, sure,” Selene said. “But even supposing I believed you, who built this corridor? Who constructed Station Eight in early human history? Who made the underwater dome in the Indian Ocean? And what do the stations do? Why is it getting hotter all over the world?”

  “Believe me,” Samson said. “There is an answer. And there’s a reason Mother has remained hidden all this time. I think we have to find the answer and stop it before Mother completes her goal.”

  “Why does your Mother need antimatter?” Jack asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  Jack turned to Selene. “We can stand here and ask questions all night. Let’s see what he can show us. Let’s combine our brainpower and figure out what we can.”

  Selene felt breathless and then lightheaded. She couldn’t accept Samson’s premises and yet, this metal corridor existed under Alamut Castle.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

  ***

  Selene watched Samson as he led the way. This hidden area couldn’t be ancient. People would have used it to their advantage if that were the case. Could humans hold such a fortress, possess such advanced technology and not use it to change the world? That didn’t strike her as psychologically correct.

  In time, the metal corridor branched off. Samson took them to the right.

  “What’s in the other direction?” Selene asked.

  “A dead end to us,” Samson said.

  Soon, he brought them to a hatch. He tapped a sequence onto a panel before twisting a latch. The door opened into a domed chamber with metal tables along the walls. Selene had seen a room just like this before in the underwater dome. She shivered as goosebumps rose on her arms.

  The big man strode across the chamber, opening another hat
ch. Jack and Selene followed him into a large, dark area.

  “Keep the door open,” Samson said. “It’s the only light we’ll have other than my flashlight.”

  Selene felt a shiver of dread course through her. This area was just like the underwater dome, but this larger chamber lacked lights playing along the walls. She spied blank screens and various controls along the walls. Nothing in this room seemed to have power.

  “The underwater dome had power,” Selene said.

  “Remember,” Samson said “this is an abandoned station. That’s why Mother banished me to it. It has an extremely limited power source.”

  “Something has been bothering me,” Selene said. “I can’t accept…Mother using this place during the time of the Assassins in the Middle Ages.”

  “I never said she did,” Samson said.

  “What?” Selene asked. “But you said—”

  “I said the stations are ancient. I didn’t say they’ve been in use all the time. It’s my belief they’ve come back online only a short while ago, at least in terms of recorded history.”

  “You’re claiming these stations have been idle for what, thousands of years?”

  “That’s right,” Samson said. “Come. I have something else to show you. It’s why I believe Mother, or the women who called themselves Mother, have been able to live extended lives.”

  With the flashlight, he led them through the large, dark chamber. He came to three hatches.

  “If you listen carefully at each entrance,” Samson said, “you can hear a faint hum.”

  Selene went to a hatch, putting an ear near it. Yes, she could hear a hum. It was very faint, as he’d said. She did likewise at the other hatches, hearing a similar sound each time.

  “I think it is emergency power,” Samson said. “It keeps air cycling and certain engines, or whatever you want to call them, operating. Two of these hatches remain closed to my best efforts. I have been able to breach the third. Please, step back.”

  Selene and Jack did as requested.

  Samson withdrew a small device from a pocket. He pressed it against the door, manipulating the device. Finally, a loud sound indicated he’d moved something in the door.

  The hatch swung open.