Flight of the Gryphon

by Ann Durand

  "Maybe," Mike interjected, hopefully. "Maybe they've taken over the earth, and there'll be no more humans. You sure you want to do this? This is not our original universe. Everything could be very different."

  Morchison sneered, "You know very well that isn't true. The only thing that distorts in a new universe is the lower forms of life with their slower vibratory energy. That's how we got takataks and hoshdels and rocsadons. They didn't exist in their present form in the other universe. Humans never warp. They just clone into the new universe without changing a single hair. We'll have the same people in 2275 that we had in the old universe. Plus maybe a rocsadon and a takatak or two. That's all."

  Mike turned away and made his final adjustments to Silver Gate, expanding the walls so they'd fit around the traveling party. Morchison was right. The future in this universe would have all the same players, the human ones, that is. It was part of the mathematical Displacement Law established by colleague and close friend, Greg Kurtz. All warped features, whether plant or animal, molded into the time structure of the new universe without effecting humans and human events, which belonged on a higher, more resilient vibratory scale. The new warped elements, like the rocsadons, could not interfere. If a rocsadon devoured a person, it was because that person would have died at that moment from another cause. It had been a profound discovery, leading to a plethora of implications. Kurtz had been working on it when his life was cut short, leveled by Askins with a Beamer when they'd first arrived in Parallon.

  Mike's thoughts turned to Kurtz's widow, Felipa, now the sole owner of Kurtz's Quantum Energy Sources. She wouldn't even know she was a widow until someone told her. This would hit her hard, and he wanted to be the one to tell her-to break it gently. Greg and Felipa had been good friends. Felipa didn't need one of these hardened former Kastaks unloading information about Greg's death like they were reporting on a slaughtered chicken.

  Mike glanced at the final settings, which read July 24, 2275 AD-one day after the lab had disappeared into the past. He was almost finished-one item remained. He gingerly extracted the EM Sphere from his pocket and held it up. All three men gazed in amazement at the incredible sphere, three inches in diameter and pulsating with a soft inner light.

  "Careful," Mike warned, as Morchison edged in closer. "It's the last one left in this world…no technology exists here to mine another one."

  "How much energy does one of them hold?" Tonnelly asked, raising a bushy brow.

  "More than enough Planck energy to power the stargate," Morchison breathed. His eyes, gleaming with greed, locked on the sphere. "And one infinitesimal unit of Planck energy is one hundred billion, billion times the energy locked inside a proton."

  Mike glanced at Morchison. Clearly, the man knew his stuff. Mike would have to move very carefully. Still, Morchison wasn't a scientist, just a well-informed technician. Hopefully, he wouldn't notice the small adjustment Mike was about to make.

  "I never did too good in physics," Tonnelly commented. "How does that little ball hold all that energy without exploding or something?"

  "The boundary, or containment material, which keeps the energy from erupting into our dimension, is extracted with it," Mike said.

  "What?" Tonnelly bent his neck forward.

  "The material that holds it together is taken from the same place as the energy," Morchison added, looking at Tonelly.

  As Morchison turned away, Mike's fingers moved swiftly over the panel activating the unlabeled icon-the one Mike had added for emergencies. A small, red light near the bottom of the panel flashed on. Just as swiftly, Mike withdrew his hand and feigned interest in the settings in front of him. He realized he'd been holding his breath, and exhaled softly. Tonnelly smiled.

  "Extracted…containment material, huh? Well, never mind. As long as it gets us home." He patted Mike on the shoulder. "Good work, Leno. Too bad you won't be coming with us."

  Morchison threw Tonnelly a pained look, and Mike realized that Morchison understood his cover was blown. Mike knew he never intended to include him in his travel plans, but now Morchison knew that he knew. The real plan, glaringly obvious, held little value for the lives of Mike, Katera, and her parents. Morchison's insurance and Mike's cooperation evaporated simultaneously. Morchison would need new motivation to force Mike into finishing the task.

  "Get out and guard the girl!" Morchison roared at Tonnelly. "Now!"

  As Tonnelly swung around to leave, Mike dove into him, sending them both hurtling into the cave wall. Morchison charged past both of them, heading out of the chamber. Mike attempted to seize one of Morchison's legs as he bulled past, but Tonnelly threw his weight over Mike, throwing him off-balance.

  Mike managed to power into a roll and came out of it on top of Tonnelly. In the confusion brought on by the suddenness of the maneuver, he slipped from Tonnelly's grasp and sprang to his feet. He dashed into the cave tunnel after Morchison. Racing through it with long, desperate strides, he soon skidded into the cave antechamber, his arms flailing. There he pulled himself up, regained his balance …and slowly raised both hands.

  Morchison had pulled Katera from the hoshdel and was crouching with Katera's unconscious body splayed across one raised knee. He had a knife perched at her throat. Moreesha, sobbing a few feet away, grappled with the rope around her wrists. Rinden looked miserable in his helplessness as he, too, struggled with his bindings. Mike heard Tonnelly stumble into the antechamber, but didn't turn around.

  "Tie him up," Morchison instructed, tossing his chin at Mike. "Tie him to the post here with the parents. They can keep each other company."

  Mike took a cautious step forward, but Morchison pressed the knife into Katera's soft, skin, drawing a dark, red bead from her neck. Mike felt his hands shaking as he held them higher for Morchison to see.

  "Okay, okay. Look. No weapons," he said, struggling to control his voice.

  "Get your hands behind your back," Morchison ordered.

  Mike quickly obliged, crossing his wrists loosely as Tonnelly wound a coarse rope around them. When Tonnelly finished, he tugged on the rope, pulling Mike over to the bar where he tied him next to Rinden.

  "Let her go." Mike mustered up the gentlest voice he could manage. "Just put her down. You've got what you want. Take Silver Gate and go."

  A grin spread across Morchison's face "Well, now Mike, I just don't know about that."

  A thick cord of fear rose in Mike's throat. "Don't even think it," he said, evenly.

  "Think what?" Morchison asked, as he stroked the knife under Katera's chin.

  "You don't want to kill her…us."

  "And why shouldn't I, Leno? Do I owe you something? Oh, yeah, maybe I do. You built the stargate, didn't you?" He laughed derisively. "But so what? Slicing the throat of this wench sounds like more fun than doing you a favor." Moreesha cried out, and the corners of Morchison's thin lips curved down as a fierceness entered his eyes. "Her sister was nothing but a whore who thought she could mock me." Flecks of spittle flew from his mouth, and Mike thought Morchison might lose it. But then, he caught his breath. "It will give me great pleasure to slice this one. Perhaps as much as watching the rocsadon guzzle her sister."

  With a mad look in his eye, he raised the blade. Moreesha sobbed uncontrollably.

  "No!" Mike shouted. "If you do that, I won't make you a rich man for the rest of your life." Morchison's knife froze in the air. Mike launched into his pitch, the one he'd been planning since they left the summit of Kan Mountain. "As you may remember, in the year 2275 AD, I am a rich man-very rich." Morchison straightened, and Mike forged on, encouraged. "You may recall that I secured the rights to the special technology needed to harvest energy for the EM Sphere. Remember? I created it."

  Morchison lifted a brow. "Greg Kurtz owned the company that mined Planck energy."

  "I leased the rights to Kurtz to use the technology and mine energy at the quantum level, but I own them."

  Morchison didn't need to know that Mike had sold the rights to Kurtz. H
e had not been interested in developing the company and knew that Kurtz had the mind and will to do it. Mike had signed them over to his good friend. It was a way for the world to leap forward with a major technological development. He was betting that Morchison would never understand the relinquishment of a fortune for any reason. Morchison lowered his arm.

  "All right. So?"

  "So I can give you the numbers you'll need to claim those rights. I can give you my signature numbers, which will allow you to transfer the rights to your name, along with my signed release. You can tell them I signed them over to you just before I died as a gesture of gratitude for ten years of loyalty. I'll even include that in my statement."

  Morchison was listening closely, his hold on the knife relaxed. "Go on."

  "Not only will you inherit fifteen million dollars, but the rights alone will keep you and your heirs sinfully wealthy for many, many decades…maybe centuries."

  Morchison re-sheathed the knife and lowered Katera to the cave floor. He stood up and walked over to Mike, towering over him.

  "You're going to give me those numbers, and you're going to sign a release. And if you give me the wrong numbers, I'll seek out and destroy every single person in our time that you care about. You have a brother, right? James, isn't it? And his wife Lisa? Two kids? And the Kurtz widow…what's her name? Felipa?"

  Mike glared at him, but spoke softly. "You'll get the right numbers, but not until I see Katera and her parents safely leave this cave."

  Morchison stared for a moment, smiled, and turned to Tonnelly. "Untie them. Put the wench back on the hoshdel and let them go." Tonelly didn't budge. "I said untie them!"

  "Not unless you share that fortune with me," Tonnelly said, looking surly. "Why should you be the only one to get rich?"

  "Of course I'm going to share it with you," Morchison said, smoothly. "I wouldn't have it any other way." He smiled. "We'll have Leno make out the release to both of us."

  Tonnelly chuckled, and moved to where Katera lay on the floor. "Man, this gets better all the time," he said, shaking his head. "What a great life we're going to have. Money, cars, the clothes--oh, man! The women will flock to us."

  It happened more quickly than Mike could have predicted. Morchison's torso moved like a jungle cat. In one unified motion, he lunged toward his prey. Mike watched as the hand jerked the head back by the hair. An astonished look appeared on Tonnelly's face….then, the whiteness of the exposed throat…a stroke, a slice…and it was all over. Tonnelly crumpled onto the floor in a lifeless heap, a fount of red liquid pulsating from the wound in his throat. A silence filled the chamber as Moreesha, Rinden, and Mike stared, mesmerized by the blood spurting over the floor of the cave. Soon, that too ended.

  Mike gulped. A ruthless man certainly, hardened from a decade of abuse and harsh living, but to kill his ally, his comrade, and partner without so much as blinking an eye…Mike drew in a deep breath.

  "Well, I guess this means the release will be made out only to you," he said, casting a wary glance at Morchison.

  Morchison plucked Tonnelly's knife from his body and sheathed the weapon with his own. He stepped over the body, carefully avoiding the blood, and kneeled in front of Katera. A sliver of alarm shot through Mike, but Morchison lifted her and carried her over to the hoshdel, draped her over the animal's back. As he moved to untie Moreesha, he cast a long look at Rinden.

  "You try anything, and I'll kill you all," he said.

  Rinden nodded eagerly. "Just let us go."

  Rinden sounded like a man snatching a tall glass of water in a hot desert. Morchison released Moreesha, who rushed to Katera and lifted her hand to examine her finger. While Morchison worked the bindings on Rinden's wrists, he glanced at Mike.

  "Remember, you give me the right numbers, or your family and friends disappear, one by one."

  "You'll get them…when Katera and her parents are well out of the cave."

  With Rinden free, the small party headed out through the cave opening, but not before Rinden and Moreesha turned to Mike and touched their head and hearts in the traditional gesture of thanks. Mike smiled weakly, realizing they didn't stand a chance in hell of saving Katera. They'd take her to an herb doctor, who would apply a salve to her skin that would not relieve the raging infection inside her arm. Only contemporary medicine could reverse the effects. She needed Serulin, a powerful anti-bacterial agent that would neutralize the infection within minutes. He needed to get some for her, but how much time did he have before the infection reached her heart? One, two hours? He didn't know.

  Morchison disappeared into the tunnel and returned a few minutes later carrying a small table with a writing utensil and a sliver of parak on it. He freed one of Mike's wrists and gave him the utensil, then slid the table and parak under his poised hand.

  "Write," he commanded.

  Mike wrote. He scribbled a release, deeding the rights he didn't own to Morchison, then he added phony signature numbers before signing it. But it was real to Morchison, and Mike had signed away the last reason for the man to keep him alive.

  As he handed over the document, he said quickly, "There's a number missing at the end."

  "What?"

  "It's missing a number, and I'll shout it to you when you press the GO characters on the panel of Silver Gate. It'll take five seconds before the EM Sphere engages, and I'll shout it to you then."

  Morchison scowled. "How do I know you'll give it to me?"

  "You'll know because I want my family and friends to stay alive."

  Morchison gave him a hard look before reaching around to untie Mike's other wrist from the bar. He bound both wrists behind his back again and nudged him forward with the knife toward the inner chambers. Mike led Morchison back through the tunnel into the stargate chamber. Morchison wasted no time tying Mike to a pole in the corner of the room and rushing over to Silver Gate. He stepped into the doorway, then turned around to face Mike. His face shone with expectancy and…what was it? Something else…was it avarice?

  "It's ready to go," Mike said, "as I'm sure you can see. The day and year are set as you requested. I just need to reconfigure it. It's been set for a party of six and needs to be downsized."

  "It isn't necessary," Morchison said. "You don't need to downsize it. It'll still work."

  He knows too much , Mike thought, holding his breath. And if he notices the activated icon, the unlabeled one, it'll be over before it starts.

  "Yeah, but it wastes a lot of EM Sphere energy if the ratio of traveler to cylinder size is off by too much," Mike said. "You might not have enough energy to get you home, then you'll end up back here with no more EM spheres."

  Morchison cursed and stepped back outside Silver Gate. Huffing, he condensed the panels, moving them manually to create a smaller cylinder. Ten minutes later, he stepped back inside.

  "Okay," he said, impatiently. "Let's get this thing moving."

  "Alright. All you need to do is close the cylinder, secure yourself into the chair with the overhead bar, and press GO on the panel. I'll hear Silver Gate as she starts to hum, then I'll give you the last number."

  "See that you do," Morchison said, and closed the cylinder door. A few moments passed, and he yelled, "GO has been activated. Give me the number." A hum filled the cave's chamber, vibrating the walls, floor, and ceiling.

  "Seven!" Mike shouted.

  "Seven?"

  "That's it."

  "Well, maybe we'll spare your people after all!" Morchison called, laughing. "Maybe."

  As Mike concentrated on Silver Gate, the walls lost their look of solidity, bending in the light as if a heat wave had entered the chamber. Soon, the cylinder was undulating as if it were liquid. And then, it vanished. In a flash, Mike was standing in the room alone. No Silver Gate, no Morchison. Good. So far, so good. And if everything went according to plan, he had one hour, no more. It would be close.

  Mike forced the fingers of one bound hand into his back pocket where he had stuffed Katera's severed finge
r. Next to it, he fingered another treasure, one that he always carried. He had been edging it up from the bottom of his pocket since they had started their walk down Kan Mountain. Now he could feel it near the top, and with his thumb and forefinger, he drew out a small pocketknife. He pressed a side button and a two-inch blade sprang out of its sheath.

  With single-minded concentration, Mike gripped the knife behind him and cut methodically into the rope wrapped tightly around his wrist. Within five minutes, one strand fell away, and in the next few minutes the hand was free. He used it to untie and discard the rope from his other wrist.

  Bolting for the tunnel, Mike careered through it in record time. In the antechamber, he stepped over Tonnelly's body and threw open the hoshdel gear box. He snatched a bridle, and without waiting to grab a saddle, sped into the clearing outside where he kept the hoshdels. He spied the young male, Grindon, a swift-footed stallion not yet fully broken. He needed speed more than manageability, so he approached Grindon cautiously and slipped the bridle over his nose and neck. He threw his stomach up onto Grindon's back. The animal broke into a gallop before Mike was able to seat himself. Wrestling with the rough ride, Mike swung his right leg over Grindon's back and sat up. He pressed his knees and heels into the hoshdel's side, urging him into top speed.

  "C'mon, c'mon," he beseeched the animal, leaning into his neck. "There's no time for mistakes."

  The hoshdel's ears flattened into the wind as his hooves pounded against the hard ground like rocks rolling off a mountain.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  "I want to destroy that Kastak!" Moreesha cried, shaking her fist.

  She and Rinden led Katera's hoshdel over the trail toward the village. The tall pines surrounding the path seemed to whisper their assent as their branches rustled in the wind.

  "Those Kastaks are probably long gone," Rinden said. "They've left for the future by now."