The Golden Cube

A story of an ancient artefact that in the right or wrong hands can either save or doom the future of mankind.


1. The Golden Cube- Chapter One

Deep in the opulent heart of Buckingham Palace, the Queen tosses and turns in her sleep. A film of perspiration coats her forehead, her breathing is heavy and laboured, in and out, in and out, in and out and out and out until suddenly it stops.
With no-one in the bedroom, no alarm can be raised. The guard outside separated by a door and thirty foot of space is none-the-wiser. A spider casually tiptoeing across her bedside cabinet would be the only one to know. Is the Queen dead? Five seconds, ten seconds, the Queen isn’t breathing, fifteen, twenty, thirty, how long can one survive without taking a breath, one wonders?
Then a sudden convulsion, as if a soul had taken possession, brings life back to her static body.
With a deep suck of air into her lungs, her back arched, her eyes wide open, she sits up. After a dozen long breathes in and out, the Queen slowly brings her scenes under control, and becomes aware of her surrounding.
She presses the red button on her bedside cabinet to summon the guard.
“Yes, ma’am,” the guard answers popping his head around the door.
“Get me Percy,” she says, “tell him it’s time.”
“Yes Ma’am,” the guard replies.

After a five minutes of waiting, Percy knocks at her door.
“Enter,” the Queen beckons.
“Your majesty, you called,” answers Percy, stepping into the room.
“It’s time.”
“yes ma’am,” he replies with a sincere smile, and a hint of genuine concern in his eyes.
“Escort me to the jewel room,” the Queen commands.

Percy had lived and worked in the palace all his life as Her Majesty’s unofficial chauffeur. Service to the Queen was all he knew and loved. His father held the job before him and his father before. Three generations of the Spinner family in the service of the British Royal family past and present. His mother, Margaret, is the Queen’s personal assistant, or Gatekeeper as she’s otherwise known. Working for the Queen had become a family business, privy to the most secret of secrets of the Windsor household.
This is recognised by the fact that every member of the Spinner Family past and present are members of the Royal Victorian Order, in recognition of their sterling service.
Percy has been in paid employment as a chauffeur since he was fourteen years old, driving Her Majesty around the private estates of Sandringham, Windsor and Balmoral. Twenty years on Percy knew every crook and cranny of the all the Royal Palaces.
Having visited the royal jewel room in Buckingham Palace only once before, he knew where and how to get there. He also knew the Queen knew the way better than anyone, having visited on many more occasions.
With a zest in her step which Percy noted and found unusual, the Queen put her purple velveted dressing gown on and slotted her feet into her purple velveted slippers.
“Let's go,” she said as she slipped her arm through Percy’s arm, causing a sudden moment of shock to rock Percy from head to toe. Never before had the Queen been so friendly.

With the corridors of Buckingham Palace empty, the Queen lead the way along the West wing to the escalator.
Once in, they went down. Down to the basement, before taking another escalator even further down.
Contra to popular belief the Queen’s private collection of royal jewels, her gold, gifts and other treasures, aren’t kept in the Tower of London. They are stored securely within the bowels of Buckingham Palace. Underneath the sub-basements, underneath the nuclear bunker, the ritual sacrifice rooms and masonic lodge, resides the Queen’s private vault. A vault storing the wondrous treasures royalty throughout the centuries have kept secret.
The Ark of the Covenant, King Solomon’s Treasure, golden armaments of Egyptian Pharos yet to be documented, jewels and diamonds beyond value, works of art lost to mankind, books from the beginning of time and artefacts of tremendous value and wealth.
This is the Queen’s guilty pleasure and her most secret of secrets.
“Wait for me Percy,” she said as they approached the entrance.
The Queen took off her necklace and used the ring attached to unlock the control panel.
“I am Elizabeth Alexandra Mary Windsor,” she said into a microphone set in the door.
“Clearance granted,” replied a computerised voice from over head.
The Queen then looked into an eye piece set into the wall.
A green beam scanned her eye.
“Clearance granted,” it said again.
She then placed her right hand palm down on a piece of glass on the door, in which a green beam scanned.
“Clearance granted. You may enter.” the computerised voice finished.
She turned back to Percy one last time and gave him a smile. Turning back to see a steel door one meter thick slowly open before her.
“Wait for me Percy, I won’t be long,” she said stepping over the threshold and deeper into her secret vault.
Percy stood his ground and watched her walk into the darkness and disappear from sight.

As the Queen walked forward spot lights individually turned on illuminating the way ahead. Ignoring the splendours coming into view, the Queen walked for twenty meters, straight to a stone alter built by the very hands of the biblical Aaron himself, on which a Golden Calf once stood, which angered Moses so much. ’So much for the story of Moses burning it, turning it to powder and throwing it into the river,’ the Queen thought to herself.
The over-head light stayed bright, bouncing off the solid gold casting. She ran her hand along the side of the alter until her fingers found a slight indentation. Upon pressing it, a concealed panel extended itself from the solid rock, revealing a shallow panel lined with black silk. In the centre was a Golden Cube. About the quarter of the size of a common rubric cube, it appeared similar in every way. About three centimetres in diameter, the cube was made up of 3x3x3 blocks with a total of 27 individual squares. It looked like a novelty rubric cube attached to a key ring, you get from the move and grab machines on sea-side piers across the country. It rotated as would a common rubic cube, though for it’s small size it weighted the same as a large packet of sugar, two pounds at least. It gave you an mystifying feeling as if it contained more than it’s outward appearance. Making it a magical object in your hand.
The casting shone of the highest carat gold. The individual blocks are also made from pure gold.
The Queen looked upon the cube with evident relief and concern.
She stretched her hand out and picked it up. As the weight was released from the pressure sensitive sensors an alarm sounded ten thousand miles away.
The Queen pressed the button and the panel retracted itself back, no longer visible, just a solid rock alter yet again.
The Queen turned and returned the way she came holding the Golden Cube in the palm of her hand.

Meeting Percy where she last left him.
“Dark forces are at work,” she said.
“Take this,” as she took Percy’s hand and placing the Golden Cube in the centre of the palm and closing his fingers around it.
“Your destiny has arrived. You know where to take it. The time has come. Remember what your father told you and what his father told him. I know my secret is safe with you. Hurry Percy and may God be with you,” she said in a hushed tone, love in her heart and hope pumping through her veins.
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