The 13th Continuum (Book 1: The Continuum Trilogy)

Chapter 7: The Animus Machine

Myra peered through a rusty grate at the empty corridor below. 

She slipped through it and landed in a crouch to cushion her fall. She swiped her wrist under the scanner. It beeped its approval, and the thick door dilated and admitted her to Sector 4. As she stepped into the Engineering Room, she was greeted by a blast of hot air and the smell of grease, her favorite scent in the world. If she listened closely, she could hear the scraping of wrenches being applied to pipes, the low thrum of generators churning out electricity, and the soft hiss of the Animus Machine puffing out oxygen.

A boy pushing a cart loaded down with parts almost plowed into Myra. She had to jump back to avoid being flattened. "Watch it, Pledge!" she yelped.

"Sorry, Engine Rat," he said. "Didn't see you stand- ing there." His face was covered with more freckles than bare skin. While he looked familiar, she didn't know his name. He'd probably been a year or two ahead of her at school.

Hearing the commotion, Royston stepped out of his office. His coveralls and face were stained black with grease and soot and the Oracle knew what else.

"Delivery from the Spare Parts Room!" the boy announced. "Well, I can see that," Royston said. He snatched a rusty hunk of metal from the cart and inspected it. A frown creased his face. "Who authorized the delivery?"

"Decker," the boy said. "Stan Decker. From Dissemination." "Wasn't expecting anything until the end of the week." The boy's cheeks flamed red, the same color as his hair.

"It's a special delivery for the Head Engineer. I was supposed to say that up front, but I guess I forgot."

"Right, I can sign for it then," Royston said.

Myra knew that she should find Darius, her assigned apprentice. He would be furious with her for turning up late again. But she still had a million pesky questions rattling around in her brain. Even the brisk jaunt through the pipes hadn't quieted them down. So she made a beeline for her father's office in the back of the sector.

On the way there, she passed by the Animus Machine. Not for the first time, she marveled at its impressive size, stunning design, and brilliant golden hue. It was slurping and hissing and puffing away, laboring to transform salt- water—their most bountiful and endless resource—into the oxygen they breathed, the hydrogen they used for power, and the heat that prevented them from freezing to death under the icy water.

A symbol was engraved on its surface—a creature swal-lowing its own tail, entwined around two words. "Aeternus eternus," she whispered.

She had no idea what they meant. She'd asked her father about them once, but he didn't know either. This wasn't surprising. So much of their knowledge had been destroyed in the Great Purging or forgotten over the years. And it wasn't just the words that they didn't understand anymore. Nobody alive—not even her father—knew how the Animus Machine worked. Unlike other machines, it didn't have any gears, joints, screws, or any moving parts, for that matter. None visible to the naked eye at least.

It's less like a machine, she thought, and more like a living organism.

She reached her father's office, finding the door cracked slightly. He was working on some blueprints at his desk. Myra rapped her knuckles on the doorframe.

He looked up with a startled expression. "Myra, there you are!"

He wasn't happy with her, she could tell, but relief was the stronger emotion. He reshuffled papers on his desk, concealing the blueprints from her view. Curious, she pushed the door open and stepped into his office. The room was cramped and dingy, with just enough room for a desk and a rusty filing cabinet shoved in the back corner.