Islands in the Sky
Forgotten Future
At the edge of the world an impossible relic from the fables of antiquity has risen from the frozen wastelands of Antarctica. Professor Logan and his exploration team rush to investigate this historic find, but this unique discovery puts their lives in peril when they unearth the remnants of a long forgotten civilization left buried beneath the ice.
Within the twisting labyrinths below the melting glaciers they uncover an ancient culture which had perished from a mysterious cataclysm. They soon realize that a polar shift had triggered the destruction which now threatens a global disaster that could sling our modern world back into the Dark Ages.
Titles by Michel Savage
Faerylands Series
The Grey Forest
Soulstorm Keep
Sorrowblade
Outlaws of Europa
Rebels of Alpha Prime
Hellbot • Battle Planet
Islands in the Sky
Broken Mirror
Witchwood
Shadoworld Series
Shadow of the Sun
Veil of Shadows
Shadows Gate
Enter the Grey Forest
www.GreyForest.com
__________________________
Islands
in the Sky
MICHEL SAVAGE
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This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.
Islands in the Sky
Copyright © 2018 by Michel Savage
Based on the adaptation of "Forgotten Future" by the same author.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, without written permission from the Publisher.
The Grey Forest
P.O. Box 71494
Springfield, OR 97475
www.GreyForest.com
Cover art by Michel Savage
ISBN: 978-09719168-2-1
First Edition: March 2018
Printed in the United States of America
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The White
The bitter cold was biting at cheeks as we pushed out way through the snow as it crunched beneath our feet. The man in charge of the expedition to this frozen tundra had put up his own money to fund this trip. I was fresh out of the military and admit I had actually hated every minute of it. After we had set sail from the South Shetland Islands to trek the Antarctic shelf it did roll through my mind a dozen times or more as I questioned myself why I had accepted this job.
Frankly, I hated snow, and this white frozen hell reminded me of that with every vapor of my breath. The truth was, I needed the money, plain and simple. When I enlisted for this adventure I was a little to eager to sign the contract when they showed me the exorbitant pay and the promised bonuses. I jumped at it because I owed people money; the type of soulless people who were nothing more than human filth; morally depraved degenerates and wouldn't think twice about burying someone for the thrill of it no matter how petty the loan. They were that rare variety of psychologically damaged and ethically corrupted individuals who were bred to be the scum of society. Most people called them Bankers, I called them by what they were: Vampires; and they would bleed you just as dry.
If my years in the military taught me one thing, it was that there are some really fucked up individuals running the country. The psychological manipulation that goes on behind closed doors accounts for the rash of suicides by our veterans; most of which information is censored from public media, of course. After I got out and back into civilian life, I had nothing to show for it but a cheap haircut and enough mental scars to weigh me down until I turned grey. Like most servicemen recently discharged, I found a girl and bought a house; just to cling on to that dream that I had been pretending to be fighting for. What they don't tell us when we signed up, is that there are no promises in life.
When I couldn't find a dignified job, it wasn't too long before my personal and intimate relationships went to hell in a hand-basket, and the banks were after my ass for the house payments. I made loans upon loans to keep up with the daily cost of living; such as the expensive car my Ex took off with, along with the diamond engagement ring, and the shit-ton of clothes she bought after maxing out all my credit cards. The armed forces put food on the table and a roof over our heads and taught us how to fight and survive foreign aggressors; but absolutely zero coaching in how a soldier was supposed to defend themselves against the drama that comes with civilian life.
I was deep in financial dept, and was looking to start a new life. That's how I ended up here in this frozen wasteland; playing pack-mule and security watchdog for this professor and his small team of archeologists. I was trying not to think about my shattered past, but your mind tends to wander in the frigid gloom of this cold white wilderness.
"Logan, the GPS says we're 40 kilometers from the target area. Where the hell are you going?" Tom cut in over the radio.
Professor Logan had our transport ship set our team ashore far ahead of our target area, and the past 20 kilometers we trekked by sled over the ice has been the longest I've ever known. The radios were strapped inside our coats, with wired headsets tucked snugly beneath our furred hoods.
"Trust me Thomas; I know where I'm going," the weak breath of the professor called back in response, heavy with exhaustion.
Professor Logan was in his elder years, and I was slightly worried if he decided to have a heart attack from the sheer exertion of punching though knee deep snow, then I might have to haul his lanky ass all the way back to the boat. Luckily, he was more ornery than to let himself succumb to the frost, which bit at the back of your throat whenever you took a breath. He had led us in the opposite direction of our map coordinates had specified for this mission, which now left us on the leeward side of a sloped glacier; where we had to leave our sleds at the bottom. One slip meant a long and dangerous tumble down its icy slope; and a long climb back up if you were still alive at the end of it.
The small dot that was the professor disappeared around the edge of the glacier below the shadow of the summit. Tom was in close pursuit; I came in third as Alexander and Walter took up the rear. I could swear the rifle I was carrying got heavier with every step, but as the trained marksman in the group, I was the only one armed beside Tom. I sure as hell didn't know what I was supposed to be guarding them from, since there were no polar bears in the Antarctic as far as I had read.
Tom ordered me to wait in step and help the two members lagging behind. They were both in their late 40's, but had spend most of their lives at desk jobs, and had not realized just how physically demanding this journey would be. The professor had surprised us all with this little jaunt off the map; but as he was the one who was writing the checks, we had no choice but to follow his lead.
"Alex, Walter, get up here, now," Tom ordered over the radio, though the demanding tone of his voice seemed off, as though he was distracted by something, "Allen, carry those two up if you have too, I need them to see this!"
I was glad for the few moments of rest as I stood my ground waiting for the two crewmembers to catch up to me. I sure as hell wasn't going to carry them as Tom expected, but I wouldn't mind prodding them with my walking stick if need be. Looking ahead, I could see through the cloud of my breath that Tom had also cleared the rim of the glacier behind the professor. Walt and Alex trod through the crunching snow under their boots, and I took their place in the rear; as if that was going to somehow make them quicken their pace, which it didn't in the slightest. Following in the footsteps of our guide, we were too busy staring at our feet as we pushed ahead, until we almost bumped into Tom as he was busy lookin
g through binoculars.
Here the glacier had split, were it opened into a large chasm below. Within this large cavity was an area which was almost entirely clear of ice down to the barren soil; completely hidden from the horizon. Professor Logan had made his way down to the bottom were giant glazed boulders rested in a mix of fresh fallen snow and shattered stone. It was what towered above him that made our eyes widen and mouths fall open in disbelief. There before us stood a tree, nearly a dozen stories high; its roots writhing deep into the bedrock. The girth of its trunk was enormous, covered in dark and twisted bark which curled up its way into its thick braches that reached for the open sky, fanning over an area of a small stadium. These branches were bare of foliage, though covered in sheets of icicles which hung like spears precariously above where the professor dared to tread below its frozen canopy.
We stood there in awe, looking at this impossible thing. It takes a moment for your mind to shake off the shock when you see something that doesn't belong. I imagined it must have been similar to the same reaction when ancient travelers first saw the great pyramid of Giza, or the Colossus of Rhodes; as a testament to the skill and ingenuity of mankind. This however, was appeared to be a product of nature; smack dab in the middle of someplace it shouldn't be. Our minds reeling in wonder, Walt spat out what we were all thinking in our heads.
"Is that thing real?" Walter stammered.
"This magnificent relic is what I've been waiting to show you," Logan answered back from below, "words would not have explained it properly if I had tried to tell you ...even if you had believed me."
"But, but how is this possible?" Alexander mumbled out loud as he began to scurry down the broken path to get to where Logan stood.
"And yes, it is a real specimen. I took a bark sample back for analysis of course, to verify my findings. It's not a sculpture, nor is it petrified. Apparently this beauty is dormant," Logan announced.
Huffing as he slipped on his way scurrying down to the professor's level near the trunk, Alex took immediate attention to the giant writhing roots which dug their way into the solid stone foundation.
"What species is this ...and, and how did it come to be here in the middle of this ice field?" Alexander bumbled over his words in excitement. Walt fumbled with his camera, taking photos from the ledge as Tom carefully skirted his way down the broken shaft to explore the foundation with the other men.
"Allen, stay up top with Walter, and keep your eyes open," Tom ordered before his decent. I realized he wanted me to keep the high ground, but I didn't know what he was expecting me to watch out for. There was little chance of any rabid penguins making it this far inland, or anything at all for that matter.
"I hired the botanists who were experts in their field, and paid top dollar for their silence on this matter," Logan mentioned, "however, their were some anomalous readings within the carbon dating scans and genetic results; which stated this exquisite specimen may well be more than a hundred thousand years old."
"How is that possible?" Walt chimed in as he joined them at the base of the gnarled trunk.
"I would imagine being locked in ice could have either altered the DNA of the specimen which may have led to the erroneous readings, or possibly preserved it over the span of hundreds of centuries," the professor surmised.
"How could this have possibly lived through that length of suspension?" Alexander shot back in wonder.
"I'm not sure, but the genetic evaluation was just as puzzling, showing that this species of tree contained over nine million chromosomes," Logan answered as he stared up in amazement at the giant looming before him.
"Impossible!" Walt snapped back, "That's simply unheard of."
"I was just as skeptical as you, my friend, but that is why you are here. You are both distinguished professionals in your field, and I wanted to share this finding with you first hand," Logan offered with merit, "it has only been eight months since I first found this site, but this basin around this specimen has widened dramatically since that time; abnormally so for this climate.
"What exactly does that mean?" Tom inquired as he approached the trunk, inspecting the deep grooved bark with his thick mittens.
"I'm not quite sure, that's why you're here," Logan replied, "to take measurements and samples for further study, so we can come to a scientific conclusion to this extraordinary find before we release it to the public and academic scrutiny."
"Do you have any idea what may have caused this level of melt-off?" Walter inquired as he scanned the labyrinth of roots weaving in and out of the quarry.
"Not entirely," the professor returned with noted measure of uncertainty in his voice, "this ice sheet is dated at over twenty million years, though the shelf of this contentment has sunk dramatically over the past thirty four million years, upon conservative estimates."
"The real question is not what caused the exposure of this relic, but perhaps it is better to ask; why now?" Alexander suggested.
"A very astute question, my friend, and that is exactly why I brought equipment to detect magnetic anomalies on this venture," Logan answered as he motioned for Tom to bring over his pack of supplies.
Tom made his way to them and dropped his unwieldy backpack on the stony ground, and they began setting up monitoring equipment to take geomagnetic readings while Walter took additional photographs of the behemoth from various locations surrounding the area. Alexander and the professor began taking soil and ice samples from the ground level along with pieces of the bark which had been shaved off by the glacier ice. Removing a tubular drill, Tom locked together a portable frame to support the machine and lock it against the skin of one of the root systems. With a whir, the contraption began to dig itself into the ancient wood.
A sharp whine filled the air as the drill quickly overheated and the bit snapped. Tom jumped out of the way as sparks flew from the equipment and the drill spun wildly as it broke its anchor upon the support.
"Holy Christ!" Tom barked as he got back onto his feet and began to inspect the twisted metal frame, "This outer skin is tougher than iron. We're going to need a better drill."
The incident brought the attention of the professor over to the failed equipment and it was obvious through his frost encrusted grimace that he wasn't happy about the unfortunate event.
"Actually, this relic is far older than Christ or any other religious figures in our recorded history," Logan breathed with disappointment as viewed the broken framework.
"Eh, crap, this drill is shot. We might want to try a laser torch on another return," Tom granted as he held the shattered remains of the tool. He glanced upward for a moment to estimate how they might be able to climb their way to the upper branch supports; then suddenly dropped everything and took running dive to tackle the professor as an enormous icicle broke free from the lattice of branches above and crashed to the ground where the drill had been set. Shards of hard ice exploded around them, tearing at their coats.
I jumped to my feet, having just noticed the second before that the scream of the drill had reverberated in the cavity, causing the enormous icicles to sway throughout the enormous canopy. Like spears of frozen death, several dozen giant icicles came crashing around the team at the base of the trunk as they dove for cover under the surrounding boulders.
"Tom! Alex! Report in, do you see Logan or Walt?" I nervously called over the radio as I stared into the plume of fine ice crystals rising from the basin below my perch. After the glittering shards began to settle, I scanned the area for signs of movement. Slowly, a few bodies began to take form out of the shattered debris that covered the rocks below.
"Tom here, I have Logan ...do you have eyes on Alex and Walter?" Thomas coughed as he took a cautious look towards the branches above him before hauling the professor from out underneath a leaning boulder from where they had found refuge.
"Alex here ...I'm okay; but I don't see Walter!" Alexander responded nervously as he spat out bits of ice.
Tom propped the professor up next to
the broken stones and looked out across the field. He had just barely caught the shimmer of sunlight from the monstrous shaft of ice as it fell from the limbs above them, before tackling Logan. Looking back over his shoulder, the drill and most of the gear they had set up had been crushed to bits.
"You alright, Doc?" Tom asked Logan, who was ruffled and shaken, but otherwise unhurt. The professor nodded that he was, and waved off Tom, who was his right hand man on this expedition.
"I'm fine; find Walter," he bade towards Thomas.
Tom took off to help Alex brush himself off and checked for any injury; then began to check the debris field for their comrade.
"Allen, are you there?" Tom barked.
"Yes sir," I called back as I watched him make his way through the hunks of broken ice below.
"Keep an eye out and give me a heads-up if you see anything precarious above my location. Do you see Walt from your position?" he inquired as he began to pull away large piles of broken ice with his pick.
"No, not yet; I last saw him on the far side of your position before all hell broke loose. Wait! I think I see movement to your 10 o'clock," I snapped over the radio.
Tom jumped boulder to icy boulder and wove his way under bridges of curled roots from the base of the iron tree. He found Walter under a blanked of ice crystals, still in a state of shock and nursing his shoulder.
"Hey, are you alright?" Tom managed through heavy breath.
"My arm, I think it's broke..." Walter sighed back, wincing with pain when he moved. Kicking aside the spray of shattered ice, he could see the equipment he had been carrying had been smashed to pieces.