Tati shook her head. “But why not just say, ‘One mile south of Ur, hidden in the cave off the side of the road?’”
“I think they were planning for the long term. Names change. Buildings are destroyed. Physical parts of the Earth are more permanent. It wouldn’t really help us if they said ‘one mile south of Ur’ if Ur no longer exists. At least this way we can use clues to try to figure it out.”
“Ok, so what’s the next destination on this treasure hunt?”
“‘The lands east of the battered mountains of the moon,’” Kelel said smiling. “Duh.”
“Right. Where the hell is that?”
“We’re working on it,” Beldran said.
“Well how long is it going to take to find out?” Tati asked. “I’m on a tight schedule here.”
I thought of Tati’s focus on catching her window home, to her own time, and felt a pang. I shook it off.
“Time is of the essence on our side as well,” Kelel answered. “The fate of our world is at stake.”
Beldran added, “I think we’ll have some ideas before too long, but we want to be as sure as we can before we send you off somewhere.”
“You’ll let us know as soon as you know,” Tati said.
The Tkosi all nodded affirmatively and the group started to break up.
“Nate, I forgot something,” Beldran said, catching up to me as I was walking away.
He produced a pen-sized silver object from his pocket. “You brought an item similar to this through that portal when you first came. It took us a long time to figure out what it was, but we finally did. It was a caduceus.”
“No shit,” I said. I took the thing from him and turned it over in my hands. It was heavier than it looked, but otherwise it was very much like a longer, heavier version of one of those fancy pens they sell at jewelry stores. “What does it do?” I asked.
“It probably does a number of things we don’t know about yet. But we have figured out that you can use it to conduct your bioelectricity through air. Without it, you have to be in contact with someone or send electricity through a conductive medium in order to shock them. This eliminates that need.”
“I can’t shock people through air because it’s not conductive enough, so why can I make a kind of electrical shield around myself, and push on it out to knock things over.”
“That works on a different principle,” he said. “You can generate enough voltage that when you hold a strong electrical charge it ionizes the air molecules in contact with your skin. The air immediately surrounding you turns into plasma—basically a soup of highly-conductive electrons. But the amount of energy in the plasma falls off very rapidly as it gets farther away from the source of the charge—which is you. So you can only project the field maybe a foot or so around you. Is that right?”
“Yeah, that’s about right. Sometimes a little farther if there’s a lot of humidity.”
He nodded. “When you release the charge into the plasma, it basically explodes it. It’s not highly exothermic, so there’s not much heat released, but there’s a lot of kinetic force, which send things flying. I imagine that if you learn to control how much charge you release into the plasma, you can adjust the amount of kinetic force released. So you can use it as a kind of shield.”
“So this is a weapon?” I asked, looking at the caduceus.
“That certainly appears to be one of its functions. When you’re holding it, channel electricity through it and you’ll see how it works. The one you brought was damaged and inoperable, so we did our best at reverse-engineering it. This one’s a prototype replica, but I think it’s pretty close to the original. It was supposed to stay in the lab, but I want you to have it. I think it’s important.”
“Are you sure I can take it?” I said. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Take it and work with it,” he said. “We can make another one. You’re a Talaris. A Talaris needs a caduceus.”
Tati and I returned to Earth via the Cahokia portal and went back to Miami. We took a Lyft to her place from the airport, and no sooner had we walked in the door than I noticed I had a missed call from Luis. Tati, still being new to cell phone technology always left her ringer on, so we heard it when he called her next.
She answered and spoke to him for a few moments, then put her phone on speaker.
“I was hoping I’d catch you two together,” Luis said. “Are you somewhere private? Can you talk now?”
“Yes, we’re at my house,” Tati said. “And you’re on speaker, so don’t say anything stupid.”
Luis chuckled. “I’ll try not to. No promises though. But listen, I’m calling because I think we’ve got the location for the next piece of the puzzle. And it’s in an Enlil-aligned area, so we’ve got assets on the ground to assist. I’ll have everything set up soon.”
Tati and I both thanked him together. “But where’s the location?” she asked.
“You guys are really doing some globe hopping on this mission. It’s Kilimanjaro.”
There was a momentary pause as Tati and I processed what he’d just said, then we were both smiling.
“When do we leave?” I asked.
“Working on that now. I’ll let you know as soon as possible. Tati, can I talk to you privately for a sec?”
Tati made a puzzled face “Sure,” she said, taking the phone off speaker and putting it to her ear as she walked away.
“Okay, it’s just me,” she said.
“I thought you’d want to hear this privately,” Luis said. “I did some digging as you asked me to. I’ve found your family.”
Tati’s heart was suddenly in her throat. She had asked Luis to find out about her family for her, but now that he was on the phone with answers, she was scared to hear them. It had been thirty-eight years since she left. In a very soft voice, she said, “go on.”
Luis sighed. “I’m so sorry, Tati. Your papá and your brother Fernando are both dead. I’m sorry. But Hector and your mamá are alive. And you’re an aunt—both of your brothers have kids that are about your age now.”
Tatiana sniffed to keep from sobbing. Thirty-eight years had gone by on Earth since she’d last seen her family a few months ago. Her father would have been ninety-eight this year. She hadn’t expected him to still be alive, but she’d hoped. And Fernando? Her older brother had always been so healthy, so strong.
“What happened to them?” she asked.
“Your father died three years ago of old age. Fernando was in a car accident back in 2007.”
They were both silent. Tati from shock, and Luis from shared sadness.
“Your mother is in the hospital,” Luis finally said.
Tati’s mother was ninety-three. She knew that if she was in the hospital, it wasn’t a good thing. Her tears broke loose at that moment. No matter what the Enlil said, she didn’t really believe that they’d be able to put her back in her time. Which meant if she didn’t go now she may never see her family again.
Nate heard her crying. He suspected what she was hearing and came to wrap his arms around her.
“Where is she?” Tati asked Luis. “I want to see her.”
“I thought you would,” Luis said. “She’s in La Jolla now. You can fly out tonight, I already booked you a flight.”
She nodded, already starting to wonder if anyone would recognize her. “But what about Nate on Kilimanjaro?” she asked through her tears.
“Like I said, we have assets on the ground that can help. Nate won’t be alone. You should go see your mother.”
I agreed. “I’ll be fine. Go see your mother.”
13
Arusha, Tanzania
I mentally rehashed the experiences and lessons from Pakistan as I flew from Amsterdam to Kilimanjaro’s airport. It was a ten-hour flight, so I had plenty of time to reflect. Whoever had been looking for us in Pakistan had infiltrated the government there, so it was possible that it had happened here too. But the Indian subcontinent was under Enki influence, wherea
s eastern Africa was under Enlil control. I’d learned enough to be more mindful of my surroundings, but I felt more comfortable going into this mission.
I wrote consultant for my occupation as I filled out the customs declaration prior to landing, and the process of going through customs was even more streamlined than it was when entering the U.S. It clearly helped to be seated in the section of the plane that got to disembark first, and in less than an hour I was in a cab headed to my hotel. The drive into the city took us through a spectacularly green countryside full of farms terraced for coffee and other crops. The view was more beautiful than I’d expected and I made a mental note to return to this part of the world with Tati when I wasn’t on a mission.
My instructions were to go to a local travel office in the morning to connect with my local contact, but all I had was a name and a place.
The next morning, I walked through the city, past throngs of street vendors and hustlers into an area of the city populated with thriving produce markets with the biggest avocados and tomatoes I’d ever seen. I fended off a multitude of offers to take me to the best food, the best batiks, the best whatever I could possibly want, and made my way through a courtyard in a solid building with peeling red and yellow paint. Past the courtyard I climbed an inner staircase to the Number One Best Tanzania Tour and Safari Agency. This was the place. This was also the first time I’d had to find and contact an agent, so I was on my guard.
I opened the office door and entered. The walls were covered in faded posters advertising safaris, Kilimanjaro climbs, and diving and fishing trips from Zanzibar.
“Welcome,” beamed the man seated behind the first desk. “How may we help you?”
The man before me was tall and black with the most reassuring smile I’d ever seen.
I smiled back at the warm greeting. “Good morning. A colleague recommended that I use your services for a particular matter. I was told to ask for Yaro.”
I tried to interpret the man’s nod—whether he was a part of this or simply responding to a completely normal and reasonable request. The Enlil hadn’t been clear about whether the whole office was staffed with agents, or just the person they’d directed me to.
“Yaro stepped out for just a minute, but he will be back in a moment. Please feel free to wait for him or let me know if I may be of assistance.”
I sat down to wait and Yaro appeared about five minutes later.
“Yaro, you have a client waiting for you,” the man announced when he came in.
I stood and reached to shake his hand. Time for the moment of truth. “Yaro, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said. “I’m Dr. Turner.”
“Ah yes, Dr. Turner,” he responded without a pause. “I was told to expect you.” We shook hands. “The Association has already credited your account. How can I help you today?”
I looked around hesitantly at the cramped office.
Yaro picked up on my hesitation.
“We have a very small office here, you see. Let us step outside to speak in more privacy.”
I nodded and we stepped into the courtyard.
“I understand you need to get into the protected area east of Kilimanjaro,” he whispered as soon as we were in an isolated area away from others.
My Electrosense confirmed that there was no one within fifty feet or so of us. “Quietly,” I said. “With no fuss. As soon as possible—this is official business.”
“Of course,” Yaro said. “I have been notified that you need to capture a certain animal. I’ll pick you up in the morning. Plan for a five-day trip.” With that, we shook hands and headed our separate ways.
I slept surprisingly well that night, and when morning came, we set out towards the snow-covered peak looming in the distance. Kilimanjaro.
We’d been driving on rutted dirt roads for the better part of an hour and were nearing the turnoff to the savannah when a roadblock appeared. It was a makeshift roadblock—really just two skinny guys in fatigues with slouchy berets and AKs slung across their shoulders.
Our hunting rifles and assorted gear were hidden under tarps in the back. We’d already been through two checkpoints without incident, so I wasn’t particularly concerned, but I still prepared for action in case the situation went left.
We pulled up to the barricade and Yaro greeted the soldiers like old friends. They peered into the car and asked Yaro in Swahili where we were going.
“He is a scientist,” Yaro answered. “I am taking him to see the national archives.” He emphasized the words.
“The national archives?” the officer asked.
The second guy stepped up at this point. “Let me take care of this,” he said to his colleague. “He is going to the national archives. This is clearly a mission for vital security purposes.”
“But we have orders to stop any Americans or Europeans going this way and call dispatch,” the first officer protested. “We are supposed to see their papers.”
“Of course,” Yaro said, producing some money from a pocket. “Here are our papers.”
Rather than taking the cash, the first officer’s hands went to his rifle and I wasn’t sure how this was going to go down. Without even realizing it, I had my caduceus in my hand, ready to use.
The second guy took the cash and gently pushed his colleague’s gun away.
“Mposi, I am in charge here,” he said. “This is an approved purpose. Top secret.”
He noticed me holding the caduceus and a grin spread over his face. “You are like Men In Black,” he said, smiling conspiratorially. “Will Smith.”
For once, I was at a loss for words. I fed a little juice into the caduceus, just enough to make it give off a little spark. I raised an eyebrow at him and his grin spread even wider.
“You do not have to flash me,” he said, raising his hands, with a laugh. “I did not see anything.” Turning to his colleague, he said, “you did not see anything, did you Jalali?”
Jalali had also gone wide-eyed, but he shook his head.
“You are good officers,” I said, handing them each a few shillings. “Thank you for your time. Stay vigilant in case we need you in the future. Speak nothing of this. Not to anyone.”
They both nodded vigorously.
We drove off and in less than half an hour we turned off the main road.
“You are sure you don’t want to climb the mountain?” Yaro asked.
I definitely did want to climb the mountain. But not right now—that wasn’t the mission. The message left in the jaguar biosim I’d shot in the jungle said to find the next biosim guardian on the plains to the east of the mountain. At least, that’s what I hoped it said. The lands east of the battered mountains of the moon.
There are thousands of mountain ranges on Earth, so narrowing down the choices to decipher the code had been a difficult task.
The Enlil put word out among their agents on Earth, asking all of them to identify the phrase: mountains of the moon. They’d put the question to over fifty agents all over the world, and only one had responded. An agent in Amsterdam said that his grandmother had always used that name to refer to the peak that towered over her childhood home: Mt. Kilimanjaro.
I wasn’t entirely sure where the battered part had come from, but after we got the breakthrough from that agent, I began to research Kilimanjaro.
There were three volcanic cones: Kibo, Mawenzi and Shira. After I noodled on it a bit, I realized that the name Mawenzi sounded an awful lot like The Battered in the Bantu language spoken by the locals.
The name made no sense to me until I spoke with Kelel, who said that an Enlil magma-electric power generation facility had once been located on the mountain, and had come under heavy attack in the wars. The Enki coveted the location and didn’t want to utterly destroy it as they’d done in other places, so they didn’t use atmospheric weapons. But even though they limited themselves to conventional weapons, the orbital bombardment battered the peak and devastated the facility. The name had endured throughout the millennia
.
Curious on how the locals explained the name, I asked Yaro how The Battered got its name and he told me an origin story.
According to legend, he said, Mawenzi and his brother Kibo were gods. Mawenzi had stolen the embers from his brother’s fire, leaving him alone and cold in the darkness of night. His brother beat him terribly in retribution—battered him, whence came the name, The Battered. In the midst of this fight, their father in heaven had come upon them and was so angered by the failure of their fraternal love he turned them both to stone. It was a good story. I thought of how many origin myths centered on sibling rivalries turned violent and wondered how many were Enlil-Enki related.
As we drove closer, the size and majesty of the peak awed me. Yaro changed the frequency on the two-way radio every so often, sometimes laughing quietly at the conversations that came through. He occasionally replied to something himself, showing off the kind of dry humor that I find hilarious. More than once, I had to stifle laughter at one of his quips to not give away that I understood the language. But once we turned off the road and onto the game reserve, he didn’t make any more transmissions. I wasn’t sure what type of biosim I was looking for, but I felt pretty confident that it was going to be one of the Big 5: a lion, rhino, cape buffalo, leopard, or elephant. Now that I’d gotten a better sense of how these Talari thought, I was leaning towards the lion or leopard as the most likely choices.
Yaro asked again what we were hunting. I’d told him several times that I wanted to hunt one of the Big 5—an answer that was not satisfying to him—and he told me again that tracking and hunting one of the Big 5 was vastly different depending on which we went after. I’d heard this before, but I couldn’t tell him that I was really intending to find some unknown biogenetically engineered creature using the powers of my mind.
“The leopard will be the hardest to find, and the rhino after that,” he advised. “To find the leopard will be easiest at night, but also the most dangerous. Lions are not so hard to find, but we should not attack a male lion with a pride. To take a male lion, we need to find a bachelor male. Preferably one who is alone, without a brother.” Even though I felt apprehensive about hunting large predators on the savannah at night, I was glad that I was with Yaro for the mission. The Enlil had chosen well—the man knew his shit.
Children of the Sky (The Talari Subversion Book 1) Page 14