“It should be,” Zen stated. “We’ve gone through every file, every document, every blueprint they gave us at the time of purchase. The Falling Rock was an abandoned mine at that time . . . nothing should have changed since.”
Jacob gave an ominous sigh.
“What?”
“It’s just,”—he paused—“entropy.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Entropy, Zen. That old nemesis that seems to throw a wrench into everything we do. That universal law which labors relentlessly to reverse all attempts at sustaining order.”
“I know what entropy is, Jake,” he eye-balled the kid, “and tonight we are going to have order, because we are prepared.” He let out a snort. “You worry too much,” then he slid out of the cab.
Jacob followed on the opposite side. He quickly moved to the rear of the truck and began fiddling with the latch. “Is everybody alright in there?” he shouted, and then with a great heave, thrust the door open.
Ellen’s was the first silhouette to see. She stood in the entry with hands on hips. “Well! It’s about time!” she let out. “I thought you two would never stop jabbering. Now I know what a crate of vegetables feels like.”
“Sorry, Ellen. The road was awfully rough.” Zen reached and helped her down the ramp.
“Jacob, could you—” Eli began.
“How are my drones?” yelled Jacob, pushing past Eli as though he was a wall.
“Typical,” Eli grunted, jumping down and onto the soft dirt. “I’m fine, thanks for asking,” he scoffed. Then turned to help Ruthanne down.
Zen jumped up and hoisted himself into the back compartment. He joined Jacob, who had already released the straps and tie-downs and was starting to activate the equipment.
“We’ll need the drones out first. They are our lighting,” said Jacob. He punched a series of commands into a glowing panel on the chest of each robot. They immediately responded by raising their roundish metal heads and flashing their dimly-lit set of eyes. By the time Jacob had given them their first instructions, the two drones had already scanned and identified the boy’s DNA pattern, recognizing him as a sanctioned administrator.
“Before we unload them, have each one run a detailed scan of the area,” instructed Zen. “We need to be certain that we are alone.”
“They do that automatically, Zen. Every time they are powered up.”
“I know, Jake, but have them run the sequence several times again . . . just to be sure.”
Jacob stared in a confused daze.
“Just appease me. Please!”
“Yes. Of course,” the boy finally mumbled. And gave the command.
It took just seconds for the two droids to simultaneously expand their field beyond the requested mile perimeter. As Jacob presumed, they were alone in their secluded canyon.
Jacob had given the construction drones as many humanistic features as possible—at Gracie’s request—and since the release of his first prototype, had made some unique improvements. Most adaptations were for appearance only—an attempt at making the metal giants a little more visually aesthetic.
The drones stood and articulated themselves down the ramp with near perfection.
“Very good,” said Jacob proudly. “Now activate exterior lighting.”
Both machines instantly powered up banks of large panels built into the plating located on their front center areas—similar to what would be the chest on a human. Each panel lit up in a powerful beam of light energy which swept out in a great illuminating swath, lighting the small hollow to near daylight.
Jacob moved to join the others who were busily attaching their own equipment. “The drones will enter the mine first. They will scan and reinforce all shafts with concrete and steel ribbing. At that point, they will move to the designated shafts and begin converting preprogrammed layers of granite into Au-79.”
“Can’t you just call it gold, like the rest of us?” Eli grumbled irritably. His rear was still sore from the ride, and he was struggling to free his right arm from being twisted up in the shoulder strap of the pack he had just thrown over his back.
“They are one in the same? I don’t see the need?”
“Whatever,” Eli snorted.
Ellen was all equipped and ready for action. She moved to help free her brother from the twisted mesh.
Once Zen had his own equipment attached, he hurried to help his sister. “You stick with me, sis,” he said.
Ruthanne smiled from behind her glasses. “Maybe you should stick with me,” she teased, tapping his arm mischievously. “Remember how many times I saved your butt in the old days?”
Zen smiled back at her. “You’re probably right.”
“I think we’re ready,” called out Ellen, pulling one last securing heave on Eli’s straps.
“Very good,” replied Zen, taking a final long look around. “Let’s get in, verify the drones placement, concentration, and molar values of the Au in each square meter of rock, then get out. Let the drones lead in and lead out. Do not overtake them under any circumstance. We’ll go in two groups to cover both of the main target shafts.”
“Hercules had better go with me,” stated Jacob. “He has an occasional glitch.”
“Hercules?” Eli sneered, his thick eyebrows raised. “Now that’s precious.”
“Let’s not go there,” mumbled Zen, as he past Eli’s ear. “Jacob. You and,”—he paused— “Hercules,” he pointed toward the large metal drone, “will be with Ruthanne and I. Eli, you and Ellen take the other drone with you.”
“Thor,” reminded Jacob.
Ellen rolled her eyes. She fought back the urge to add further comment, but instead, grabbed up her equipment and strutted over to the large metal bulk. “What are we waiting for? Come on, Thor,” she said. “Lead the way.”
The two groups started cautiously toward the blockaded entryway, the drones leading in two parallel columns. The old train tracks made for a level footpath which arrowed ahead in a subtle incline toward the towering cliff-face. The droid’s adjusted their stride to accommodate the much smaller steps of their human leads. The heavy mechanisms navigated the bumpy terrain with the dexterity of a graceful ballet. Their onboard visual sensors continually scanned the route ahead, calculating each consecutive step with exactness. Pressure sensors located in the thick underside of their footing analyzed the topography down to details smaller than a grain of sand.
Soon their powerful lights fell upon the large line of cement barriers blocking the mine’s entrance.
“It looks precariously dangerous,” cautioned Ellen, feeling very small as the large dark tunnel loomed off into blackness.
“The entry is larger than I expected,” added Eli.
Jacob stepped ahead a few paces stopping between the drones to make a preliminary assessment. “Actually, it’s very close to the dimensions the BLM archives provided,” he said. “I’m pleased. It means that the data I programmed into the drones should be accurate.” He turned and gave them all a confident nod.
“Good.” Zen stepped up and joined him. “Let’s send them in then. Everybody step back a bit.” Jacob turned to the drones and gave the command: “Execute protocol Alpha 977, passive mode.”
The two powerful systems moved instantly into action. They plowed ahead, stopping just short of the barriers. They paused only briefly to analyze their options. Then without hesitation, each raised a large extended arm, to which was incorporated an EMR device. A sampler beam shot from each massive arm . . . the precursor of what was to come.
“This shouldn’t be too bad,” called out Jacob. “The EMR’s are set for oxygen transformations. That should leave a debris-free opening, clean and safe. I doubt we’ll even feel—” and that was as far as he got.
A blast of air exploded outward in a great wave of expanding gas. The two drones hardly noticed it, but the rest of the group was not so fortunate. Jacob, being the smallest and closest to the drones, flew past Zen and Ruthanne like a twig in
a hurricane. Zen just had time to throw Ruthanne to the ground as the expansion hit into them like a fist to the face. It catapulted the team off their feet and tumbled them back like pebbles in a flood.
Eli rolled head over heels, smashing directly into Ellen and taking her down like a bowling ball to pins. The massive dust cloud slammed outward, ripping leaves and branches from trees and rattling rocks and deadwood down from cliff overhangs and shelves. It rumbled up the side of the mountain and vanished into the black sky. Even as the echo died out, thousands of leaves floated down like a gentle snow on a calm winter night.
Then, quite suddenly, it was over. Silence gathered as the canyon recoiled and tried to right herself.
The drones stood motionless, silently facing the fully cleared opening to the mine.
All traces of concrete barriers and wire mesh had vanished into a puff of pure oxygen, equal in mass—which, as it turned out, was a great deal more than expected—to the sum total of all blockades.
“Get off me!” Ellen’s voice broke the silence. She pushed Eli aside and sat slowly up. Her usual thick hair was a snarled mess, and contained enough dirt and plant matter to start her own garden.
Eli coughed and spit out a mouthful of dusty grime. His glasses were gone and his face looked like a mud-ball with two dark holes for eyes.
“Ruthanne!” shouted Zen, first thing. He scrambled up on both feet, teetered, then frantically scanned the area.
“I’m here!” her voice returned. “I’m fine but I’ve lost my glasses.”
He sighed a relief and ran to help her. Fortunately, in the last second, his thrust had landed her into a clump of ferns behind a large bolder.
Her hair was in disarray and her characteristic, dark glasses were missing, but other than that she appeared unharmed. In fact, when he reached her side, she was actually laughing to herself. “When I said I wanted to be part of the action tonight, I didn’t mean literally.”
Zen let out a long breath, “I don’t know what happened?” He glanced around and spotted her glasses lying in a clump of grass. He picked them up and looked them over carefully. “Here you go. By some miracle they aren’t broken.”
“Which is more than I can say for Jacob after I get my hands on him!” hollered out Eli in a raspy, coughing voice.
“Jacob!” Ruthanne suddenly gasped. “Where is Jacob?”
Zen felt a fearful anxiety wash over him. He remembered seeing the boy standing near the front of the expansion, next to the drones. But now as he desperately eyed the area, he couldn’t see any sign of him. “Get the drones over here!” He shouted back to Ellen and Eli. “I need their lighting!”
“I’ll have them scan for him!” Eli called back, his anger quickly morphing to genuine concern.
“Wait!” cried Ruthanne. “Can everyone please hold still for a moment?” Her head tilted inquisitively to one side. “I have him! He is there!” She whirled and pointed above and beyond them.
All eyes locked on her lead. The spot was nearly eight meters above them, on a steep outcropping edged in scrub and sagebrush. The shadowy alcove loomed obscurely into the steep wall, and from their vantage point, there was no sign of movement.
“Ruthanne, are you certain?” heaved Zen, as he mounted the cliff like a mountain goat.
Eli and Ellen were right on his heels.
“Yes.” She returned. “And he is alive!”
“Jacob! Jacob!” Their voices rang out, echoing off the steep rock walls.
The climbing proved to be difficult. The loose bedding of shale-rock fought them as the layers broke and slid down under their feet.
Zen soon realized that there was no way to reach the boy. The location was just too high and too steep. He stopped to catch his breath and re-think his strategy. He cursed at his inability to get to his friend. “Jacob!” he shouted above him. And then he heard something. Was it a moan? A cough? His heart raced. “Jacob!” he hollered again.
“What did you hear?” called Eli from behind, panting like a thick-haired dog on a hot summer day.
“Shhh. Listen.” Zen tried to ease his breathing. Then he heard the sound again. It was a distinct cough! He craned his head back as far as he could and was barely able to see the outermost edge of the rocky shelf.
Suddenly, from the outlying brush, a dirty face peered over. Zen heaved a long sigh of relief. “Jacob!”
“Hey,” said the boy in a croaky voice. “Did you know that pressurized concrete can be far more dense than the standard mixture?” he coughed again. “Guess what those blocks were made of?”
Zen laughed. “You’re okay then?”
Jacob reached and touched a small gash on his head. “Yeah. I’ll live.”
“I’ll toss this rope up to him.” Eli rolled a piece of rope into a ball. “Jacob. Catch this rope and tie it off. Make sure you tie it to something strong, then ease yourself down over the side. We’ll grab hold of you!”
It took a few more minutes, and several more scrapes and jabs, but soon, all were standing once again at the bottom of the cliff, brushing off their clothes and checking the equipment.
“Can we salvage this mission?” Eli set the broken EMR alongside several other pieces of equipment—none of which weathered the oxygen blast well at all.
“We still have two of the four mobile EMR’s and one analyzer,” replied Jacob, his head now sporting a small bandage. He sighed, shook his head and frowned at the smashed equipment. “I should have programmed the drones to moderate the process.”
“It was our first attempt. Things happen, Jacob,” Ruthanne said, resting a soothing hand on his shoulder. “We have not worked with this type of dense material before. It is a learning curve,” she continued. “You of all people understand that.”
“Well,” he consented, “at least the drones appear to be unaffected, and we didn’t lose any of our personal protection gear.” He gave an optimistic glance at Zen. “What do you say?”
Zen thought for a moment. “We’ve lost nearly an hour, but I hate the thought of bringing the drones—and the four of you—back out here for a risky second attempt.”
“I agree,” added Eli.
“I say we go for it,” Ellen put in. “We can quicken our pace and be finished before dawn. Besides, there’s no way I’m subjecting my butt to that kind of torture again.” She eyed the truck, irritably.
“Okay. Let’s gather what equipment we can and redistribute.” Zen glanced over at the mine entryway. The two drones hadn’t moved. Like a pair of stone statues, they stood as centennials at the tunnel’s opening.
Once again the group formed their columns. Jacob gave the command and the great metal figures suddenly awoke with movement. They marched ahead and entered the first main shaft. Their powerful front beams brought the black cavern to full illumination. “We have good integrity,” said Jacob, his voice an echo in the hollow, earthy tube. His handheld device pulsed an ultra-high frequency wave of both sound and microwave energy. The energy propagated in such a way as to reveal any weak and debased areas of the shaft. The returning echo provided a graphic image in three-dimensions detailing the shaft’s complete structural integrity. “This old concrete entry ends another fifty-yards ahead. That’s where the drones will start the reinforcement transformations,” cautioned Jacob. “We should stay well behind them, and move only when the signal returns a safe, secure display.”
They waited for another thirty-minutes as the drone workers moved ahead in a preprogrammed routine. Soon, the two monoliths had vanished down darkened shafts with only an occasional blinding rush of reflected light and a telltale hint of ozone to signal their ongoing task. From where the Five waited, it was as if a horrific electrical storm had developed somewhere deep within the bowels of the cavern.
“How much deeper have they got to go, Jake?” asked Zen, growing a little anxious.
Jacob punched a few more buttons on his remote display. “They’re nearly at the half-way point, and should be halting at any moment for us to proceed
with the verification.”
“We only have this one good flashlight left,” reminded Eli, holding it up. “The other four were smashed with the rest of the equipment.”
“Maybe we better stay together then,” spoke up Ellen.
Zen felt in his pocket for his own small flashlight. His high-luminous headband attachment had also been smashed. “We don’t have enough time to go as one group. We need to split up in order to finish the Au placement in time. Sunup is only about three hours away.”
“I don’t require a light.” Ruthanne stepped in. “I can tell you the exact dimensions of all that surrounds us. Would you like to know where the cluster of bats are just above and to the left?
Ellen jumped, gawking upward into the darkness. “Ooh, I hate bats!”
“How about the large bird—a type of owl I believe—sitting on a broken light fixture about twenty-two meters beyond the junction of the south and west shafts.” She suddenly turned her head strangely. “Odd?” she added with some interest. “It didn’t fly when the drones passed under it.”
Jacob just started to open his mouth and explain the noiseless footing of his engineered marvels, when Ruthanne suddenly made an peculiar sound—like the cry of a small child. Her face suddenly winced in a painful fit of emotion. She stumbled and nearly fell to one side.
“Ruthanne!” Zen grabbed to balance her. “What is it!”
“He is terrified!” she shrieked. “He is so afraid!” Her hands lashed out, grasping in an aimless, desperate flail. “Jacob!” she screamed. “Stop the drones! Stop them!” Her clutch finally found the boys shoulders. “We are not alone in this mine!”
Chapter 13:
One day earlier, Tom Toone found himself sitting in the passenger seat of an eighteen-wheeler barreling down the Interstate toward Wendover, Nevada. The truck, a locally owned rig-trailer combo, had finished loading its cargo that morning and had left Cheyenne, Wyoming at 7:35 A.M. The driver, Loran Upton, a retired fireman, had planned on making his delivery to Wendover by 4:00 PM that evening—and Loran was never late on deliveries. So shortly into his run, when he pulled his rig over to the shoulder of I-80 West to pick up a lanky dried out hitchhiker, he had definitely acted upon impulse, a whim, or whatever it was. Either way, it was certainly out of character for Loran Upton. Perhaps it was because Loran had attended his church services on Sunday for the first time in years, and had been stung by a sermon on doing unto others; or it could have simply been that he had gotten an unusually good night’s sleep, and followed it up that morning with a hardy breakfast at his favorite café—an amiable combination. But the most likely cause for the man’s compassion in his decision to put foot-to-brake, was that the young stranger lumbering along the desert highway, not only appeared more adolescent than adult, but carried an air of absolute despondency. His was the presence of someone not just placed in their precarious situation by a flat tire or empty gas tank, but something far more suppressing—an unseen, yet tangible weight. As it turned out, Loran was very perceptive.
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