PART 40
"We need to disable the trap,"
Arthur said,
his breath coming in short,
heavy gasps as the air in the room began to grow noticeably thin.
He approached the rotating pedestal,
trying to find a bypass switch or a data port on the golden scarab,
but his tools could not penetrate the ancient alloy.
Daniel stood up,
his eyes scanning the walls of the room where the geometric hieroglyphs were beginning to glow in sync with the scarab's eyes.
"Amelia,
look at the symbols on the left wall,"
Daniel shouted,
pointing toward a panel of carvings that seemed to be shifting in pattern.
"They're changing,
it looks like a puzzle,
like the ones we used to solve in the old library back home."
I approached the wall,
my golden eyes scanning the shifting symbols and translating them into mathematical equations.
"It is a variable-based locking mechanism,"
I determined after three hundred processing cycles.
"The code requires three specific inputs that match the foundational constants of the earth's orbital mechanics."
"Can you calculate the inputs?"
Arthur asked,
wiping sweat from his forehead as the lack of oxygen began to affect his older biology.
"The calculations are simple,"
I replied,
"but the input interface requires manual activation of the stone tiles on the opposite side of the room in a precise sequence."
"Tell me which ones to hit,"
Daniel said,
stepping forward without hesitation,
his exhaustion forgotten in the face of survival.
"Tile four,
then tile nine,
and finally tile eleven,"
I commanded,
pointing my golden finger toward the floor across the chamber.
Daniel rushed over,
his boots slamming down onto the designated stones with careful precision.
As he stepped on the final tile,
a loud metallic groan echoed from the golden scarab,
and its amber eyes shifted to a calm,
serene emerald green.
The heavy grinding sound stopped,
and a fresh current of cool air rushed into the room through the reopening vents in the ceiling.
"Trap disabled,"
I stated,
turning my attention back to the scarab which was now splitting open along its center seam.
Inside the golden beetle lay a glowing core of pure solar energy,
a miniature sun that contained the data files for the entire African sector.
"The eighth anchor is ready for integration,"
I said,
stepping toward the glowing core with my hands extended.
Daniel watched from the side,
his body sliding down against the stone wall as he finally allowed himself to rest.
"Eight down,"
he whispered to himself,
a tired but determined look in his eyes.
"Five more to go,
Amelia,
and then we can go home."
May you like
I did not tell him that the concept of home was no longer available in my directory,
as my hands entered the solar core and the golden light consumed my vision entirely.
