Free Origins by Mark Henrikson Page B

to draw any unwanted attention.  Though the door looked ordinary from the outside, it had steel bars running through it that extended into the walls when the door lock was engaged.  Nothing short of a wrecking ball could have broken through the door by force.
    The three hurried inside and turned on the lights.  Surprisingly there was no security system or cameras needing to be neutralized.  The owners of the building appeared to trust the unbreakable door to keep people out.
    There was nothing at all remarkable about the building’s interior, just row upon row of floor to ceiling storage shelves packed full of paper files.
    “Well, this is certainly worth protecting with a lock and door like that isn’t it?” Alex asked of no one in particular.
    “No, but the gateway it conceals is worth the extra security,” Brian replied.  “Actually, I expected to run into considerably more barriers than we have so far.  It appears protecting this place in a low profile fashion is very important to the owners.  That lock looks just like any other to the untrained eye.”
    “Right, and having an alarm system would attract a lot of attention in the event of a break in,” Alex added.
    “Plus, there is nothing inside to steal except some dusty old files,” Dr. Andre said while taking an apprehensive look around.  “Well, we tried.  We had best be leaving now.”
    “Not yet.  This place is the perfect cover,” the professor said with a reverent tone.  “If we hadn’t discovered the tunnel and knew the exact coordinates of the entrance, I don’t think we would have had a chance in hell of finding the opening.  Happily, we do.  According to the GPS readings the opening should be exactly twelve feet from the west wall, and eight feet from the south wall.”
    The group took measurements of the room and located the precise spot.  The only problem was a shelf full of files weighing several thousand pounds covered it.  Even with three individuals pushing with all their might, the shelf was going nowhere.  Professor Russell got on the ground to take a closer look. 
    It was imperceptible while standing, but being an inch away with his eyes he could just barely make out a straight-line gouge in the floor indicating the shelf, or part of it, could slide forward.  He pulled away the files on the first two rows of shelving and finally found the release mechanism; a tiny button on the underside of the second row shelf. 
    With eager anticipation the professor pressed the button and was rewarded by the sound of a lock releasing.  He stood up and slid a three-foot wide section of the shelf out of the way to reveal an airtight manhole cover.  Alex returned to the truck and came back with a crowbar that she put to good use and opened the lid to reveal a pitch black hole with a ladder built into the side.
    “The sonic density readings indicate this tunnel goes down about three hundred feet.  That’s well below the water table here.  I wonder if the tunnel’s flooded,” the professor observed. 
    “There’s only one way to find out.”  Alex pulled out a hand full of glow sticks, cracked them to life and dropped the bundle down the hole.  The only sound they heard was plastic hitting a solid surface.  “Looks like we’re good to go.  Who’s first?”
    Before the others had time to utter a syllable, Professor Russell spoke up, “This is my expedition, and therefore the risk is mine.  Everyone put on a helmet lamp and sling a floodlight over your shoulder.  Once I reach the bottom and determine its safe I’ll call you down.”  Without another word, the professor hooked up his lighting equipment and climbed down the dark hole.
    Climbing down a three hundred foot ladder was not particularly difficult, but climbing back up would be another matter.  At the bottom he was relieved to see the tunnel was a six-foot tall, six-foot wide cylinder lined in a metallic substance that had absolutely no seams.  In the back