Classified Quadrillionaire
A Science-Fiction Novel by Horus Michael
Copyright © ® 2021 Horus Michael, All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any other information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the author. Reviewers may quote brief passages. Trolls will be eaten by Ammot.
This book is a work of Fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and should not be inferred.
This book was published in the United States of America. This book is a product of the Kingdom of Niihau © ® Horus Michael 2021.
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Chapter 1:
A thousand miles of land stretched before us in the dimly-lit cabin on board The Gallant, our maiden yacht. On both sides of the ocean channel our ship squeezed through like a fat cork in an old bottle of Scotch. Eventually we found a clearing and then the cork literally popped.
For two years we scoured the seas looking for remnants of our old Guild Master, Lord James Michael, The Richest Man in the World. It seemed even our modest quest was not without a few hiccups. That Lord Michael was even out here in the barren lands of Elam would suggest another purpose for his interests, considering he owned all of it once.
“Lady Evelyn,” shouted a deckhand. “We will reach the Port in twenty minutes.”
“I will alert the Captain,” I echoed amidst a gale force of wind and sea foam. Time wasn’t our adversary. The Captain was below deck, monitoring his digital sextant.
“Captain, a moment,” I said briefly. The Captain was a native of Elam, with his nautical white-and-blue cap atop a clean shirt of rugged cotton and plaid trousers. He smiled slightly.
“M’lady?” he asked solemnly. “Is it time?”
“Port is in twenty, and the deck is clear,” I replied.
“Agreed. Prepare to lay anchor then,” he said while flipping digital control switches.
Above deck, the coast was littered by a recent typhoon. In the distance one could glimpse a line of limestone Pyramids leading to a walled city. Formerly this was all desert land until Lord Michael purchased it several decades ago. He built the city and the Pyramids with his fortune.
What lay ahead was difficult to express exactly. The dock was once a pinnacle of honor and glory, where all of the flag ships that reached Port were gathered together like children around a glowing log in a campfire, ready for marsh mellows and hot Chocolate. Now the dock was desolate. A ruin of costly stone and weathered timber was its only survivor.
The Captain appeared unhinged as he opened a portal hole in the side of The Gallant. “Well, so much for laying anchor.”
We decided to drop anchor at the closest beach head and disembarked onto the dry misty sand. The Captain remained behind to guard the ship.
We marched into the tropical marshes that led to the walled city. This took about an hour on foot. I led the party of five wearing my adventurer garb – tactical blue denim jacket and pants, with black laced-up half-boots and a pith helmet with a leopard print scarf. My fellow shipmates wore seafaring attire. Two of them had preloaded assault rifles in case of angry feral cats, as Elam once produced a population of cloned Saber-tooth variety. I felt secure holding my trusty laser dagger with solar charger, and a bandolier of sonic grenades. Cats don’t like loud noises.
We approached a stone wall of polished granite. The gilded iron gates were positioned in between a pylon of similar materials.
“Locked,” said Gaius, our Engineer. “There must be another way inside.” Gaius searched for a hidden latch or button. Lord Michael was fond of such concealment.
Two lion statues made of granite concrete faced a shallow pool littered with coins of tarnished bronze and silver. A fountain once sputtered water from its center. Although there did appear to be missing something.
“Wouldn’t the lions be facing the fountain?” I asked the group. I checked each lion head looking for metallic holes. One was clogged with muck, so I inserted my laser dagger and activated it until water spewed forth into the pool. I did the same with the other lion. I heard a metal-on-stone noise behind us. The gates opened!
“Success!” I replied in satisfaction. “Let’s go in.”
A walkway spiraled about leading to a massive building. Along the way I saw numerous, once-extinct tropical plants dotting the pathway. The path itself contained silver nuggets embedded in the cement. An unlocked door lay ahead.
The room was dark and musty. We lit up some electric torches for lighting. Upon doing so the interior reflected our strobes from glistening suits of stainless steel along the walls, complete with halberds. A quick gray rat scurried by unnoticed.
We followed the floor tiles to an indoor swimming pool overshadowed by this large sandstone statue of Lord Michael as an Egyptian Pharaoh complete with striped Nemes headdress and crossed scepters. His eyes once contained inlays, I think.
“His eyes are missing,” Gaius suggested.
“I gather that, too,” I replied in interest.
“Well the pool is warm at least. Shall we go for a swim?” I added. The others smiled.
“I’d just focus on why we’re all here,” said Jervis, our Guard.
“Yes. Of course, we shall move on then?” I said.
A hallway emptied into a Museum, which led us to the Library where most of Lord Michael’s famed novels were kept. One novel was entitled “Creator of Thrones.” It was housed in an armored glass case resting on a soft pillow of silk. Towering cedar wood shelves tiled the room. The floor was fashioned of Mahogany with traces of gilding in intricate letters, possibly hieroglyphic.
“So, where is it?” asked Jervis impatiently. “Where is Lord Michael’s Crypt?” Jervis paced about while brandishing an assault rifle like it’s a toy squirt gun.
“I’d be careful with that. Lord Michael’s tomb is up ahead. Look for a stairwell or chasm,” I added.
“Evelyn, wouldn’t his Crypt be mentioned in one of his books?” asked Gaius. “In the Tower of Faust he wrote about a chamber concealed by a portrait of his mistress. And in Evermore Ether the tomb was hidden by a lever and a trap floor.”
“You know, Good Idea! Guys, look around for a switch along the walls, or a statue. Any loose objects will do. I am going back to the Museum Lobby for something. I will join you later,” I said.
The suits of armor seemed lively for inanimate objects. It was almost as if they could see me. The Museum Lobby held this majestic chalice of calcite contained in a locked glass chest. I wondered if that was connected to the Pool’s statue?
I fidgeted with the lock using a screwdriver I had connected to my keychain. Then I realized something. Each tome in the Library was numbered in Fibonacci Sequence using the Library Computer. If I add the first two digits I create the next number, and if I use the next number with the created number I create the next number in sequence. So it is only a matter of calculating where the tome is that will lead me to the key. I searched the Library Computer here in the Lobby. Turning it on wasn’t a problem but it was slow, as it hadn’t been used for quite some time. It asked me for a pass code when I typed the command to open the chalice’s lock. So I entered “8 13 21,13 21 34, 21 34 55” and “34 55 89.” I heard a click behind me. There was a hidden panel in the side of the desk behind my chair. The panel contained a brass key. I inserted the key into the lock guarding the Chalice. It fit, much to my pleasure.
I opened the box and removed the Chalice. Turning it about in the available light, I could see it was written in old Egyptian Hieroglyphs. On the bottom where I expected to see “Made in Egypt” was a taped key of stainless steel. I peeled away the blue Duct tape and placed the key into my jacket pocket.
I alerted the others back in the Library. Gaius was reading through a collection of Lord Michael’s Effective Egyptian Magic Spells books, the ones with Sakhmet on the cover. Jervis had been seated on a plush couch, cleaning the barrel of his assault rifle with a white cloth.
“Good. I was starting to become bored,” Jervis said.
We walked back to the swimming pool and I studied the statue of Lord Michael, especially around its missing eyes.
“Eyes, eyes, what is so special about his eyes?” I pondered.
The missing eyes stared into the pool itself, so this gave me and idea. In his first novel, Creator of Thrones, Lord Michael wrote about how Eyes are the Origin of the Soul. So his soul is missing. But, his eyes are directed into the pool.
“Alright, we need to drain the pool. Gaius, find the control panel for the swimming pool in the Boiler room. I will wait here,” I ordered.
The pool took a few minutes to empty. I descended a few feet to the bottom floor of the Olympic size pool. I looked about for any hidden devices.
“There’s nothing here,” I concluded. “It just needs some… light,” I said, realizing the skylight above had a covering on it. “That’s strange. Why would an indoor pool have its skylight shielded?”
Gaius glanced upwards. “Here, I can reach the rope to the covering,” he said. “There.” Gaius pulled down the gray cotton tarp. Light immediately poured into the room, sending a bolt of light into the statue of Lord Michael through its eyes, this illuminated a small panel on the bottom of the pool.
“Hmm… It’s loose,” I said while flipping open the plastic panel, this revealed a key hole. I remembered the key from the Chalice and inserted it.
Suddenly the whole bottom floor of the swimming pool descended into a staircase and ramp. I looked up to see our group’s smiles in astonishment.
We descended the staircase, lighting our electric torches along the way. I could hear water dripping in the musty air.
The tunnel led to three Antechambers. The first was supported by a forest of Palm tree pillars. The second had colonnades forming a perimeter shaped like a square. The third was supported by Papyrus pillars engraved in recessed Hieroglyphs. Inside the Pylon gateway was a small tunnel leading to the Crypt.
The Crypt’s walls had been decorated in mid 19th Dynasty painted murals, mostly about technology and hunting scenes. A concrete sarcophagus stood in the center of the room, shaped like a Scarab beetle. Nearby was a statue of Anubis, it was holding a staff held in its hands.
“Well, where are the fabulous treasures you promised us?” Jervis asked sadly. “All I see is this big stone bug!”
“It’s Concrete, and that’s not an ordinary bug. It’s a Scarab, symbolic of resurrection,” I corrected him. “We just need to open it. Jervis, if you mind, tug on that staff that the Jackal god is holding. I think I may have an idea.”
“Aye, Professor,” Jervis relented. Jervis pulled the staff and then he twisted it like a ski pole until hearing a click.
The Concrete Scarab’s wings opened up to reveal another enigma. A large black metallic box with wires, tubing, and electronic technology displayed an opaque window.
“What is this?” Jervis scoffed.
“It’s a Cryogenic Chamber, the first working one I’ve seen,” Gaius said studying it. “You see, there’s a network of tubes leading in and out of the box, supplying liquid Oxygen to the interior, which I suspect is feeding its occupant. The lights are on, indicating whoever is inside this is still alive.”
I wiped the window with a clean cloth. I noticed fine golden lettering imprinted on the opaque tinted panel.
“Lord James Michael, Occupant,” I said at length. “Gaius, how long would it take to revive him?”
Gaius stared into the contraption, his brilliant mind calculating mathematical formulae. “I can have it… in about… 10 minutes, given the technology here.”
“Do you require any special equipment?” I asked him.
“No. It seems to be self-contained,” Gaius replied.
Jervis stood his ground, his assault rifle at his side. The remaining two deckhands assisted Gaius with the equipment.
Internal gases flowed about within the opaque sarcophagus as we pressed glass buttons on the control panel. Within minutes the vacuum-sealed chamber released converted Oxygen along the edges as the canopy opened and retracted within. Lord Michael started to breathe on his own from a tube harness placed over his face, his slick gray hair slightly moving in the still air. Then his eyelids fluttered, slowly opening to the sound of technology within the contraption.
I decided to introduce myself. “Lord James Michael, I am Lady Evelyn of the organization you founded 300 years ago. We have awakened you because we need your assistance…”
A slight grin appeared onto his parched lips as he spoke. “It’s the Ushabtis Project, correct?” he asked me.
“Yes,” I replied. “We need some advice on how to contain their unnatural growth and social interaction,” I said.
For those who do not know, the Ushabtis Project was Lord Michael’s gift of technology to the World, which made him a Quadrillionaire over 23 years. Ushabtis are a replacement of living people with technology. Slowly in the 21st Century did technology replace workers, first with telemarketing, garbage or recycling workers, cashiers in restaurants, to soldiers in the field of battle and eventually leaders of Nations. Humans became consumers only, as all labor was now regulated by machines. The Ushabtis self-created their own numbers from automatic factories, and controlled society. Humans served as technicians to program the Ushabtis or do repair work. Since Humans are susceptible to Pandemics, the Ushabtis virtually took control of society. The purpose was one of survival. Now Humans are an endangered species. So for that reason we sought to awaken the founder of this project, whose existence was classified by the World Government to prevent people from finding him. Not everyone likes machines replacing our people.
Lord Michael used revenue from his many best-selling novels to purchase technology and robot companies, later he bought ranches to build his own factories. The mass production of this technology greatly influenced our economy. Lord Michael created Elam, a technology city-state in the Sahara Desert, from his extended revenue. With his trillions he purchased Libya and part of Egypt, along with mainland China to access his technology. The World Government annexed Elam a few decades ago, and exempted it from taxes. Lord Michael sought to escape this world by sleeping in his Cryogenic Chamber until society corrected itself. But now we need him more than ever. The World Government renewed a form of Technology Feudalism, hence why we have titles.
Chapter 2:
Lord James Michael wasn’t always a Technocrat. Originally he was the inventor of a Genetic Escape Room in the 21st Century. He also invented holographic sculpture so that everyone could view ancient artifacts without actual ownership due to legal issues with certain governments. His many novels elevated him to celebrity status later on.
After removal from the Cryogenic Chamber, Lord Michael activated his city-state from a room within the main building, previously locked. Gaius and I helped order some rehydrated food from a replicator in Elam’s cafeteria, while Jervis guarded against rogue robots.
Ushabtis are color-coded. Most are constructed of Marbleized Titanium with Beryllium. Gold Ushabtis are programmed for Government work only. You can see them in the Bureaucracy, copying digital papers and recording events. Blue Ushabtis are the Police force in the form of flying Drones that speak any language upon hearing the first vocal sounds of a Human, and then automatically translate them. Blue Ushabtis will eject either a stunning electric shock as a warning in case of violence, or a clinging blob of mesh to apprehend suspects. Green Ushabtis are environmental servants, cleaning the debris from roads and cutting lawns; they also recycle human evidence. There are rumors of a secret secular group called Red Ushabtis, but we are presently unsure of their purpose. Most Ushabtis appear as walking statues with limbs, antennae, or helicopter wings; under development are ones that resemble humans with latex skin, red lubricating fluid, crystal eyes, and scented steam.
Jervis was fumbling with the lock on his assault rifle. He clearly was disappointed.
“Hey Jervis,” said Fang, one of the deckhands. “Why so glum?”
Jervis looked upwards as if pouting. “Where’s my treasure? You said we’d be rich!”
Lord Michael overheard the conversation. “Gentlemen, how much do you want in compensation?”
“Golden treasures would be great,” Jervis said in a monotone voice. “Not paper.”
“Has he seen my Vault?” Lord Michael asked me, turning his gaze. “I have this locked in case the World stopped accepting Geo Credits.”
Lord Michael pressed a panel in his chair, which popped out to show a red switch. He pressed it. The floor opened up before us and a staircase elevated itself to meet the surface. Then lights along the passage ignited into simulated holographic torches. The interior resembled the original contents of a Ramses-size sepulcher. Jervis excitedly descended the black marble staircase into the chamber. He found gold rings of various sizes, emeralds the size of baseballs, alabaster vases, gold and silver coins of varied cultures, oil paintings of the Grand Masters, and the like.
“You are welcome to anything down there, as most of it is obsolete in our Present era,” Lord Michael said. “But if you want Geo Credits, I have those too. Just let me know and I will send a link to Elam’s Banking Institution.”
“Obsolete…,” Jervis started. Then he stood up and dropped a few gold bars back into the pile. “Nah, you keep it.”
We ventured outside after lunch. Lord Michael operated a flying chair skiff to view his city-state. Upon pressing several integrated red switches in his chair panel, the grounds lit up with solar-electric lighting. Blue Drones exited from camera-shutters in the ground, and flew about to enforce Elam’s Code of Conduct. Ushabtis marched in double file down the concourse. Some lesser Bots scurried about on the floor like tiny skateboards.
We saw Green Drones watering the various exotic plants, trees, flowering gardens, and fields of wheat and barley. Date Palm trees dotted the perimeter of the city-state, and four rows of which formed a carpet towards the entrance. Other Ushabtis offered a traditional role as harvesters and farmers.
Further down the estate we noticed Ushabtis as Miners, hauling rocks to be processed into metals and the remnant into sand and later concrete. Ushabtis drove automated vehicles, and delivered items to their appropriate corresponding locations.
Inside an auditorium, Ushabtis played different musical instruments to a recording from the 22nd Century. Some Ushabtis even sang vocalizations of human origin. One wonders who programmed them.
Outside in an alley, I noticed one Ushabty bully two lesser Drones like a child at school. Mostly the larger one tampered with the antennae or service panels of the lesser ones. I wondered if the bully was programmed by a Blue Jay bird.
We entered a classroom for Ushabtis. One Instructor Ushabty recited a series of scripts for the lesser ones to record and repeat in exactness. Another Ushabty appeared to be a Journalist recording and disseminating the local News broadcast. All of this left me wondering, where are all the Human people?
Chapter 3:
A few days later, Lord Michael was giving a speech in one of Elam’s Universities to a group of Human Graduates concerning our technology and humanity’s place in it. For the most part, Humans lack the essential qualities for success in an Ushabty society. We have become a minority. Technology was originally designed to make life simpler, not replace us. The Human Graduates numbered about 10, while the Ushabtis had several thousand; our numbers included accelerated genetic-modified teenagers.
After the empathic speech, Lord Michael was approached by a woman with flowing dark hair, business attire and matching silver heels. She asked to speak to him privately.
“James Michael, I am an admirer of your work,” the woman said while escorting him to a maintenance closet at the University. “Do you think the robots will ever understand Human mating rituals, or complexities of that nature?”
“I have the utmost certainty of that strong possibility, Miss,” Lord Michael replied. “Your name escapes me. Is it Jill, or Juliet?”
“My name is not important. I value intellect over identity,” the woman said while unzipping her shirt and removing her silver heels while in the closet. She grasped her hands across Lord Michael’s cotton blazer and lifted one thigh to meet his gaze, resting a foot against a table and drew him closer. Then she pulled him up against her semi-bare chest and started licking his neck. This continued for about five minutes. Afterwards, Lord Michael was injected with a sedative while resting on the table and the woman left the closet, locking it.
A pounding was heard from the closet as I entered the University. I noticed the door was locked from the outside with the Master Key. The key was actually an electric one the size of a thumb drive from the 21st Century. My Sphere contained a duplicate of the Master Key; Spheres are what we use in place of Cellular Phones now. A Sphere is like a holographic projection with other features when we revolve the image about using an integrated dial. I unlocked the closet door and met Lord Michael, whom was somewhat underdressed.
“What happened?” I asked him in disbelief.
“Did you see that Synthetic?” He asked me in bewilderment. “There was a woman here, but she wasn’t what I thought. She was a Latex Ushabty. I think she was after my Tech Key or something.”
“How do you know she was a Synthetic?” I asked him.
“Well… We had coition, but it was bad coition. Once, I think it was a fake orgasm? She didn’t feel right. Oh…” he stopped while looking out the window with a sense of fear.
“What? Are you well?” I asked.
“Oh… She wanted my semen to clone me for my access to the Database,” he said, embarrassed. “My Security feature from 300 years ago was programmed with my Genetic code. Only someone with my DNA can access it.”
“Damn,” I said at length. “What should I do?”
Lord Michael dressed himself and we exited the closet.
“Lady Evelyn, I want you to tell the Blue Ushabtis in the Elam Security Department everything I just told you,” Lord Michael replied as we were walking outside the building.
“All right, if you feel that is necessary,” I said while watching a slim jet soar in the air above us.
“I have to visit Elam’s technology center,” he answered.
Titanium bars kept flowing into the factory line as machines constantly forged new Ushabtis by the minute. A forklift carried shrapnel from damaged creations to the smelter, which melted them down into basic components. Legs, arms, feet, and heads became attached to abdomens of similar material, with veins of copper wire and gold foil skin. This was the Elam Ushabty Factory, the technology center for the city-state.
Endless hallways of packages, crates, and finished creations lined the main thoroughfare here. Marching to the tune of Mozart entered rows of varying colored Ushabtis. One even played a drum like a human marching band, with banners waving from its headgear.
“Lord Michael! Master Lord Michael, what a surprise,” said a new Latex Ushabty named Intef-44. It walked like a man but with a tractor footpad.
“Hello Intef-44! It’s been ages,” Lord Michael smiled.
“Allow me some introductions,” Intef-44 said on its electronic voice-wave screen. “Here are your new Secretary, Cal-77 and her assistant, Roger-AA” he said while pointing to robots.
“Greetings,” said both in unison.
[End of Excerpt].
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