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Book: The Pandora Chronicles - Book 1 (A Scifi Adventure Thriller) by Ryan Attard
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Authors: Ryan Attard
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and a dozen other crew members—less than half the original party.
Perhaps those who left were smarter, or saner, than the rest of us , Finnegan thought.
They ventured down a narrow corridor until cool air hit them, and the darkness seemed to recede, followed by the eerie sounds of life and movement.
The corridor gave way to a large, circular room, clearly marking this as the heart of the cave. It was enormous and completely alien. Steel and minerals snaked from the walls and into the center of the room.
There, on a pedestal, hovering a few inches off an elevated bowl, was an orb made out of the blackest of black. It looked liquid and solid at the same time. The minerals went through the lower pedestal and exited from a second pedestal on top of the orb and back into the ceiling of the cave. Yet, neither of the pedestals touched, and the orb floated in between them.
Surrounding the contraption was a wide platform, blinking alive with lights, and various consoles lit up like fireflies. A set of disembodied mechanical arms emerged from the consoles, and moved erratically about with both strength and precision.
A faint blue light, like a clear sky, ran through lines on the walls, illuminating the bizarre room.
Standing near the pedestal was a single man, but he was not of flesh and blood. Finnegan had seen skeletons before, and the monstrosity before him resembled a metal skeleton, yet alive and completely unaware of the intruders.
There was a faint humming sound in the air, which reminded Finnegan of the industrial workshops he once visited. Amidst all the prayers and panicked squeaks coming from the crew, Finnegan heard a dismembered, autonomous voice echoing so loud, he felt it punch into his gut.
“Intruders in command center. Select DNA recognized. Initiate Preservation Protocol.”
The first mate, acting out of fear or perhaps despite of it, approached the metal skeleton with a cutlass in hand.
“What in God’s name are you?” he asked.
Finnegan and Tier yelled a warning at the same time, but the automaton was too quick. Its joints whirred and released steam from various parts of its figure, as its hand grabbed the first mate’s face and twisted.
Several crew members screamed as they saw the first mate thrown away like a rag doll.
“No!” The quartermaster leapt forward, his ball and chain already in hand.
“Come back, you’re no match for it,” Tier screamed, but it was all in vain.
The quartermaster spun the cannonball and threw it at the automaton. The heavy, lead ball made contact with the skeleton’s head, twisting it so that the automaton’s face now looked backwards.
The crew cheered.
Calmly, the automaton raised its arms and screwed its head back in place. It grabbed the stunned quartermaster by the shoulders and pulled him apart, tearing him like a sheet of paper.
“Shoot it,” Finnegan yelled.
Bullets from dozens of pistols flew at the automaton and sparks erupted from where the metallic creature was struck. The disembodied voice spoke again.
“Warning. Select behavior not compatible with original programming. Terminate with extreme prejudice.”
The automaton began walking closer, clearly unaffected by the bullets.
When they saw this, the crew’s fear overtook them. Some attempted to run out of the room, only to be stopped by an invisible barrier. Lightning shot through, instantly incinerating them.
They were now trapped between a wall of lightning and an impervious man of steel.
Finnegan felt Tier pull on his arm as he took aim with his pistol. Blood trickled from her nose.
“Shoot at its ribcage,” she panted heavily. “Its heart is beneath the metal plate.”
Finnegan concentrated on the automaton, looking for weaknesses, until he found what he was looking for. A strategy took shape in his mind. Slowly he took aim, and fired.
The lead shot went into the automaton’s first rib. It hit the bent metal and altered its course, then hit
Perhaps those who left were smarter, or saner, than the rest of us , Finnegan thought.
They ventured down a narrow corridor until cool air hit them, and the darkness seemed to recede, followed by the eerie sounds of life and movement.
The corridor gave way to a large, circular room, clearly marking this as the heart of the cave. It was enormous and completely alien. Steel and minerals snaked from the walls and into the center of the room.
There, on a pedestal, hovering a few inches off an elevated bowl, was an orb made out of the blackest of black. It looked liquid and solid at the same time. The minerals went through the lower pedestal and exited from a second pedestal on top of the orb and back into the ceiling of the cave. Yet, neither of the pedestals touched, and the orb floated in between them.
Surrounding the contraption was a wide platform, blinking alive with lights, and various consoles lit up like fireflies. A set of disembodied mechanical arms emerged from the consoles, and moved erratically about with both strength and precision.
A faint blue light, like a clear sky, ran through lines on the walls, illuminating the bizarre room.
Standing near the pedestal was a single man, but he was not of flesh and blood. Finnegan had seen skeletons before, and the monstrosity before him resembled a metal skeleton, yet alive and completely unaware of the intruders.
There was a faint humming sound in the air, which reminded Finnegan of the industrial workshops he once visited. Amidst all the prayers and panicked squeaks coming from the crew, Finnegan heard a dismembered, autonomous voice echoing so loud, he felt it punch into his gut.
“Intruders in command center. Select DNA recognized. Initiate Preservation Protocol.”
The first mate, acting out of fear or perhaps despite of it, approached the metal skeleton with a cutlass in hand.
“What in God’s name are you?” he asked.
Finnegan and Tier yelled a warning at the same time, but the automaton was too quick. Its joints whirred and released steam from various parts of its figure, as its hand grabbed the first mate’s face and twisted.
Several crew members screamed as they saw the first mate thrown away like a rag doll.
“No!” The quartermaster leapt forward, his ball and chain already in hand.
“Come back, you’re no match for it,” Tier screamed, but it was all in vain.
The quartermaster spun the cannonball and threw it at the automaton. The heavy, lead ball made contact with the skeleton’s head, twisting it so that the automaton’s face now looked backwards.
The crew cheered.
Calmly, the automaton raised its arms and screwed its head back in place. It grabbed the stunned quartermaster by the shoulders and pulled him apart, tearing him like a sheet of paper.
“Shoot it,” Finnegan yelled.
Bullets from dozens of pistols flew at the automaton and sparks erupted from where the metallic creature was struck. The disembodied voice spoke again.
“Warning. Select behavior not compatible with original programming. Terminate with extreme prejudice.”
The automaton began walking closer, clearly unaffected by the bullets.
When they saw this, the crew’s fear overtook them. Some attempted to run out of the room, only to be stopped by an invisible barrier. Lightning shot through, instantly incinerating them.
They were now trapped between a wall of lightning and an impervious man of steel.
Finnegan felt Tier pull on his arm as he took aim with his pistol. Blood trickled from her nose.
“Shoot at its ribcage,” she panted heavily. “Its heart is beneath the metal plate.”
Finnegan concentrated on the automaton, looking for weaknesses, until he found what he was looking for. A strategy took shape in his mind. Slowly he took aim, and fired.
The lead shot went into the automaton’s first rib. It hit the bent metal and altered its course, then hit
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