by Thomas Stone
Harry followed Kathleen’s gaze and saw a form rapidly approaching over the slight hill before them, the form of a kitzloc. Harry wriggled out of his pack, allowing it to drop to the ground. He took the blaster from his holster and offered it to Kathleen. Shaking her head, Kathleen refused it. “It wouldn’t do any good,” she said. She bent to the pack and took a container of water from its mesh pouch. “I will have a swig, though,” she said as she watched the creature’s approach.
Together, they stood their ground and faced the kitzloc. It did not bother to conceal its form. Its countenance was not the ferocious lizard-snout used to intimidate; but rather its almost human, cherubic face. It even smiled as it approached. Ten meters away, it halted. Even at that distance the creature towered over the two on its long, muscular legs. With a very human gesture, it spread its arms wide, not in a threatening manner, but rather like an embrace. Its scent had reached both Harry and Kathleen when it was still fifty meters away. Now, it communicated via the connection.
“You must be Harry,” it said plainly within Harry’s mind. The kitzloc’s eyes shifted to Kathleen. “And you must be Kathleen.”
“Yes,” Harry spoke aloud. “Who are you?”
“I have a very long name. Sometime, I shall tell you all about it, but for now, you can refer to me as Eli.”
“What are we doing here?”
“Of course, you have questions. All will be answered, at least all I am able to answer. But first, I’d like to show you something. Would you follow me please?”
“Where?”
“Just a few steps, over the rise behind you.” The kitzloc walked around Harry and Kathleen, still communicating as he passed. “Please, do not be anxious. There is no harmful intent. I merely want to show you something.”
Kathleen lagged as Harry took a step after the creature. He paused and looked at her. “What should we do?” she asked.
Harry shrugged as he bent to lift his pack. “I guess we’ll follow and see what’s going on.”
“That is right,” the voice intoned inside both Harry’s and Kathleen’s heads, “it is good to know what is going on. One cannot make a fully informed decision about anything if one does not know, as you say, ‘what is going on’.”
Eli continued as he traipsed through the grass in long strides, “I am so happy to finally see you both. I have heard so much about you.”
“How did you hear of us?” asked Kathleen.
“I originally heard about you from my relatives.”
“Kitzloc relatives?”
“Now what other kind would I have, dear one?”
Kathleen didn’t answer. She and Harry followed Eli to a ridge where they stood on an outcropping of rock gazing down at what appeared to be the beginnings of a construction site. The spot was nestled in a valley between rolling hills. Off to one side, a spring tumbled down a rocky slope and fed a pond that contained cattails and green, floating pads. An animal, similar to a caribou, raised its head from drinking and stared at the unlikely trio. Unalarmed, it lowered its head and continued to drink. Nearby, a smaller version grazed.
On the opposite side of the flat, cleared area stood a small house with a slanted roof, its shuttered sides open and inviting. From his perch atop the hill, Harry surveyed his surroundings and surmised that wherever they were, he stood at the highest point for some distance. As far as he could see, there were only more hills with similar vegetation. In places, dense woods restricted his vision.
“Where are we?”
“We are on Mirabel. However, I understand your confusion. Perhaps the better question is: when are we?”
“What do you mean?”
“Please, do not be overly alarmed. You have been transported five thousand years into Mirabel’s past. The spot you currently stand upon is one you have previously stood upon. In the future, of course.”
“How can that be?”
The kitzloc turned slightly and looked down at Harry. “Think and you will know. We tapped the continuum and brought you here.”
“We?”
“Myself and my relatives.”
Harry looked around again as Eli’s words sank in. Kathleen was speechless. “Where are they -- your relatives?”
“Oh, well, some are in the future and some are here and some are elsewhere.”
Harry ran a hand through his hair. “This is a little disconcerting.”
“That’s an understatement,” said Kathleen, regaining her voice. “What are we doing here?”
Eli turned away and once again gazed down into the valley below. “Do you not find this to be a pleasant place? Comfortable?”
“Yes, I suppose so, but what are we doing here? What would you have of us?”
“I would have you help yourselves. You have been far, Harry Irons, and you have experienced much, as has your companion Kathleen. The toil of life is mixed with joy. To combine the two is a convergence of character and consciousness. It is the primary indication of growth. Now, Harry and Kathleen, it has been thrust upon you.”
Eli pointed down the hill toward the little house. “This is your new home. Yours and Kathleen’s.”
“For how long?”
“Until your work is completed.”
“And what work is that?”
Eli spread his clawed hands again, encompassing the scene below them. “Why, that which is before you. You see, five thousand years from now, all this is desert. On your way to find Kathleen you passed through an ancient structure, did you not?”
“Yes. There was English writing inscribed on the walls. I found our names, Kathleen’s and mine.”
“You put your own names there. You carved those inscriptions into the walls yourself.”
“How can that be?”
“Simple enough. You built the structure. Below us is the beginning. I myself cleared the area for you. There is a quarry nearby and enough hand tools for whatever is required to complete the job.”
“But it will take years.”
“Most likely. But what is a few years in paradise? You can take as much time to complete the project as you like. Work when you want. You and Kathleen may travel anywhere on the planet -- your powers will permit you to do that.” Eli half-turned to the west. “There is a Crevah located five kilometers from here. An enjoyable stroll for such fit specimens as your selves. It will assist you should you care to further explore Mirabel. You cannot, however, leave the planet.”
Harry took a deep breath and looked down to the construction pad. “What if I decide not to work on your project? What then?”
“You are totally free in that respect, to do as you please. Bear in mind that if the chamber remains unconstructed, five thousand years from now when you and Edward Fagen enter the transport tunnel in search of your companions, you will both materialize under tons of sand. A sad ending to an otherwise glorious life.”
*
Bart’s celebration was cut short by the appearance of the sleek, dark-hulled, interstellar ship. The three partners huddled before the console, staring in silence. Bart finally spoke. “It’s an apparition, an illusion.”
“If it is,” said Arai, “it’s an awfully good one. Sensors indicate it’s solid with exactly the same mass as our ship. Same drive characteristics, same dimensions, same everything.”
“How can that be?” said Minerva. “This ship is one of a kind put together by the Tec’Lissir.”
“Maybe Braithwaite put it together,” suggested Arai.
“No way,” answered Bart. “They didn’t have enough time. Not in twenty years with the advanced technology. Besides, they’ve already sent a ship. Doesn’t make sense for them to send another.”
“I know what it is,” said Minerva quietly.
Bart and Arai looked at her.
“It’s the Tec’Lissir, The True Ones. They’ve built another ship and returned to Mirabel. That’s all it can be.”
“Of course,” said Bart. “Their beacon was tripped while Harry was in those ruins.”
/> “And now they’ve come to collect,” said Arai.
*
The tunnel led straight out of the underground catacombs; at least, that’s what Tobias had said. Fagen shined his light ahead, illuminating the path for the small group as he helped Ellis along. Bobbi followed close behind with the three others bringing up the rear. George remained silent, but was compliant enough to climb to his feet when urged. Like a sulking pet, he followed at the end of a tether held by his wife, Lisa.
The group stumbled through the darkness, brushing against the rock faces, but steadily making progress until, at last, Fagen saw the glow of light ahead.
“I think we’re out,” he said.
“I don’t know what good it will do us,” came Tobias’ voice from the rear. “We’ll be stuck in the desert with no food or water.”
Fagen sighed. Most people gave up too easily.
The light grew brighter as they approached the exit. Grunts and moans begin to arise from the back of the little group. Fagen no longer needed his flash to see and flicked it off, then turned to see what the problem was. George, wild-eyed, tugged at the end of his leash, balking at the sunlight. He voiced his discontent by saying, “No, no, nooo!”
“What is it?” asked Fagen.
“He doesn’t want to leave the tunnel,” said Lisa, mouthing the obvious.
“Well,” said Tobias, “we can’t very well carry him through the desert.”
“We’re not going to leave him!” said Lisa, suddenly angry.
“I’m not suggesting we leave him.”
“Then what are we going to do?” asked Lisa as her husband continued to tug at the cloth rope which bound his hands.
“Easy,” cautioned Fagen. “We’ll wait here until dusk. No use traveling in the heat. Maybe George will calm a bit after the sun goes down.”
“How long till then?”
Fagen glanced at his watch. “Two hours or so. Make yourselves comfortable. Take stock of your water and get some rest. I’m going outside to see if I can communicate with the rest of my team. They should be able to pick up my beacon if the signal’s not damped.”
“And if they don’t?” questioned Tobias. “What then? You expect us to walk out of here?”
“We’ll do what we have to do,” said Fagen quietly. He turned away and, with Bobbi beside him, stepped to the mouth of the cave.
When they were out of earshot of the others, Bobbi asked, “Edward, you’re not thinking of leaving them, are you?”
Fagen stood at the mouth of the cave. The air was hot and close, the sun still a couple of hours above the dunes. Fagen shaded his eyes and peered out before answering. “No, I wouldn’t leave them. We’re all stuck, not just them.”
“What about Kathleen? She’s still here somewhere -- but I don’t think we can get to her.”
“I know,” said Fagen. “I spoke to one of those... things. It had taken on a human form. Very strange conversation.”
“And it didn’t threaten you?”
“Not exactly. It did tell me not to come back.”
“And Kathleen?”
Fagen sighed as he fished out the transducer from a pocket on his utility belt. “I don’t know. Harry was behind me. We were trapped in a sealed room. I made it through the portal before it shut down.”
“Do you think he made it out?”
“I don’t know. I hope so. If anybody could, it would be Harry.” Fagen held up the communicator and switched it on. For a moment, the COMM indicator glowed green then abruptly switched to red.
“Was it long enough for Bart to get a fix?”
“I don’t know. I hope so. Otherwise, maybe we can walk away from this area, walk out of the damping field and try again. I’m sure we can.”
Bobbi threw a glance over her shoulder. “But they can’t. Not when one has a bad ankle and another is crazy as a bedbug.”
Fagen stared at Bobbi for a long moment and smiled. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to be seen,” she replied and kissed him hard on the lips.
*
There was quite a stir when Denforth’s men discovered Tringl asleep in Fagen’s vehicle. None knew what to make of him and if Tringl had awakened before Jennings and Denforth came running, they may have killed him.
“Ah,” said Jennings in explanation to Major Denforth., “This thing is Irons’ pet. I don’t think it’ll give us any trouble.” Jennings nudged Tringl’s side with the point of his boot.
“Well, he looks big enough to be a handful if he took a notion to.”
Tringl rolled over and resumed snoring.
“Search the vehicle,” Denforth commanded. “Find Irons. He’s got to be here.”
Someone chuckled behind Denforth and Denforth turned to see Penbrook. “You,” he said, pointing at Penbrook. “What’s so damn funny?”
“Everything,” the old man replied.
“Who is this?” Denforth asked Jennings.
“Emory something or other. We found him in the desert. Says he worked for Braithwaite all these years, hiding out all by his lonesome.”
“Sounds like a load of crap to me.”
Denforth addressed Penbrook. “Who are you?”
Penbrook shrugged and jutted his chin at Jennings. “It’s like he said.”
Denforth shook his head. “I don’t buy it.” The Major ordered one of his men to bind Emory, “forthwith!” Denforth faced young Ellis. He didn’t speak to the boy but instead asked Jennings who he was.
“He’s all right. We lost his father on this trip. He’s a little shook up.”
“I’m all right,” Ellis protested, finally speaking for himself.
“All right, son. Just stay out of everyone’s way until we get you back where you belong.”
“I can help.”
“Just do what you’re told. Let the professionals do their job.”
A soldier came down the ladder from the upper quarters. “No one’s up there.”
“Then where did he go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Widen the search area,” ordered the Major. “Check the surrounding dunes and take care, this Irons fellow is infected.”
“Was infected,” said Penbrook from his corner.
Denforth and Jennings both turned to the old man. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what I said. He was infected but he’s something else now.”
“Whatever,” replied Denforth. “He’s still a man.”
Penbrook shook his head and giggled just as Tringl opened his eyes and yawned. Denforth and his accompanying guard stepped back inside the closed space as Tringl sat up and stretched. He looked at the Major with drooping eyes.
“Take everyone upstairs and keep a guard on them,” ordered the Major. “This one as well,” he said, referring to Tringl. Tringl was nudged with the barrel of a combat model Vimbacher and joined Ellis and Penbrook in compliance with the Major’s order.
“Now what?” asked Luther Cross, who up until then had kept unusually quiet.
“First, see if we can find Irons. Failing that, we’ll press on to this underground complex. It’s the only shelter for hundreds of kilometers. Eventually they’ll have to return. No one could live out in this desert for long. If you have a better idea, I’d like to hear it.”
Cross shook his head.
The side hatch opened and one of Denforth’s trooper’s stuck his head through the open door. “We have comms with our ride: another craft has entered orbit fitting the description of our target.”
“Entered orbit?”
“Yes, that’s what they said.”
“You sure they said ‘entered orbit’?”
“Yes, sir.”
Denforth frowned and thought for a moment. “All right. We’re moving out. I want to be at that complex by nightfall.”
“What about Irons?”
“Screw him. The desert will take care of him. Fagen’s the one we want. Him and the ship.”
*
/>
One characteristic about the Bedoran species that exceeded their human counterparts was a great ability for patience born from years of hunting in the great forests of Bedor. Arai could wait for hours, for days if needed, with barely a blinking eye. Yet, he sensed urgency within Bart and Minerva. Events were unfolding before them and the greater half of their team was lost. Well, not exactly lost. They had the coordinates Harry had left in the computer. Arai checked the location and found nothing unusual; just another spot in the great Wahabi of Mirabel, kilometers upon kilometers from nowhere and hundreds of kilometers from the secret Braithwaite complex lying beneath the sands.
Shortly after spotting the new ship, they received a short-lived burst from Fagen’s beacon. It was no more than a second in length but it verified his position was very close to the same coordinates Harry had left, little more than two kilometers.
“He wants to be picked up,” said Bart.
“We can’t be sure,” replied Arai.
“That’s all it can be,” said Bart. “We need to go to the surface and pick them all up.”
“We don’t have any firm information,” Minerva said, doubtfully.
“And,” added Arai, “If we move out of orbit toward the surface, we’ll be visible. We’ll give away our location as well as Edward’s.”
“Maybe we should take the shuttle.”
Bart rubbed his chin and shook his head. “Not enough armament if we run into trouble. Also, we don’t know how many might be waiting for a pick-up. Harry and Kathleen and Bobbi and Edward make four, but what if there are more? Four could squeeze into the shuttle, but not much more. No, if we’re going downstairs, we need to take the whole show.”
“I think so too,” agreed Minerva.
Arai reluctantly agreed although his hunter’s attitude still wanted more information.
*
Major Denforth was a career soldier and a good one at that. The people who utilized his services, the Braithwaite conglomerate in this case, knew his background and relied on his expertise. He was hand-picked for the mission to Mirabel -- a classic snatch and grab of the most notorious man in the galaxy, Edward Fagen, and the alien interstellar spacecraft that would keep Earth’s hopes of finding off-planet resources alive. Denforth knew the importance of his mission and had every reason to believe he would be successful. His small contingent of men were experienced, well-trained, and as Denforth liked to say, always ready to rumble.