Day 3, 11.50 am

Sunday, 31 March 2233

Denman Glacier, East Antarctica

“I have only 10 minutes of oxygen left, and then I die,” Micah announced to Apollos.

Apollos gazed at him, deep concern showing in the depths of his ancient eyes. “I wish I could carry you out of this ... Is there anything I can do?”

“Not for me, no. But there is one thing I want to do for you. To try your combination lock one last time as my last act of mercy. I have no idea whether I will unleash destruction upon the world if you are destruction itself, but you seem like a decent enough chap.”

“Thank you, my friend. I know if we get it wrong, the lock will fuse, and I will be stuck here until the end of the age. But so be it if that’s what’s meant to be. Let’s do it.”

Micah hesitated. “How bad could it get?”

“With the fusing of the lock, I could turn fully demon and destroy you? This is unchartered territory for me.”

“I’ll be dead in nine minutes anyway, so I have nothing to lose.”

Micah walked over to the combination lock. His eyes widened. “I see the first three digits are glowing on the 553. That’s a new development. We only have to figure out the fourth number. A one-in-ten chance of getting it right, 90% likely to be wrong.”

“Could it be a number pattern like 5533? That sounds like a nice choice.”

Apollos shook his head. “Archangel Michael wouldn’t have made it that obvious.”

Micah walked to the icy wall and carved out the number options: 0. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. He then crossed out the 3.

“Perhaps it’s one of God’s favourite numbers,” Apollos mused.

“Good start. Let’s cross out 0. I don’t think God likes nothing. And at this point, we have to start somewhere.”

“And 1 and 2?”

Micah waved the suggestions away. “Random, I know, but those numbers don’t trigger any interest for me.”

“And we’ve already eliminated 3. What about 4? Four rivers flowed from Eden,” Apollos suggested.

“True, but four doesn’t sound that prominent.”

“I vote we skip 5,” Apollos advised. “There would be too many fives in 5535. Sounds unimaginative.”

“Agreed,” Micah replied. “Let’s also skip 6. The number of the beast in Revelation is 666.”

Apollos scratched out the eliminated numbers.

Micah added, “7 is a very interesting number. The seventh day is the day of rest. The books of Daniel and Revelation use the number 7 about 50 times or more. The seven churches. The seven spirits of God. Seven pairs of clean animals on Noah’s Ark. Seven judgements. Seven feasts. Why?”

“Seven represents completeness, wholeness and perfection.”

“Let’s underline the 7.”

“What about 8 and 9?” Apollos asked.

“If 7 is completeness, then 8 represents a new beginning. But I would give it a very weak vote. As for 9, Jesus died on the Cross at the ninth hour of the day, but it wouldn’t rank among divine numbers. Apollos, I think we should try 7?”

“Then we are in agreement. The scroll says ‘Elige Hodie Cui Servies – Choose now whom you will serve’. Surely, the choice should be as close to God as we can get. I agree on 7.”

The oxygen timer beeped ominously in the darkness, reminding Micah that death was coming. “I have five minutes, and I want to see this through. Let’s do it!”

Micah scrolled through the last row of numbers on the lock until he got to 7. The complete sequence was 5537.

For an anxious moment, nothing happened. Then they heard a distinct sequence of clicks.

Then, a blinding flash followed by a cloud of white smoke.

Apollos waited for the smoke to clear, then groped his way to the point where the lock was secured to the wall. The moment his eyes settled on the wall, a visible flood of relief descended on him. He was released. The chain was still connected to his spine on its other end, but he was no longer trapped. He would just have to drag the chain behind him. He was ecstatic.

He searched anxiously for Micah to share the good news and found him slumped against the opposite wall. Micah was unconscious. His skin showed the telltale signs of oxygen deprivation, and his oxygen timer flashed a red 0,5%.

He had to get Micah to higher ground as soon as possible so that he could breathe naturally again. He picked up the sword and scroll and secured Micah to his back with the chain. Casting a final, furtive look at his home for the past 3000 years, Apollos started his climb up the icy walls with a sense of urgency. Despite his angelic strength, he knew that his ascent would be hampered by the heavy weight of Micah and the chain. Covering a distance of 3500 metres over ice would be demanding, but he was determined.