A tugboat had pulled Travlor’s ship into the teeming harbor of Barranquilla, Columbia. Moored alongside one of the docks, Travlor, with a firm grip on his hostage, led his men down the gangplank. A soldier dressed in fatigues met him once he stepped onto the cement pier, saluted smartly, then offered his hand. Ignoring the overture, Travlor growled, “Where are the rest of your men?”
Embarrassed, the Columbian quickly withdrew his hand and stood a little straighter. “Standing by. I was uncertain of the number of vehicles we would need.” He raised a radio to his lips. “Tres.” He waved for Travlor and his party to follow. “If you will come with me, the trucks will not be long.”
Travlor waded into a quagmire of humanity that parted as easily as the Red Sea. His soldiers followed closely in his wake. Since he couldn’t compel the topsider, he maintained a vicelike grip on Daria’s wrist even though she twisted around like an injured snake. “Cease your efforts!”
She tried to pry his fingers away. “You’re hurting me!”
He dragged the topsider to his side. “Cease your efforts and it will hurt less!” He wasn’t about to risk losing his prize. Should she escape, all his efforts would be in vain.
Three military trucks pulled up and his men separated into groups of twenty, climbing aboard. Travlor shoved Daria into the cab of the first truck and pushed in next to her, barking a command at the driver. “Go! You know the route.”
The gnarled driver looked neither left nor right. With dreary eyes pinned to the road, his arthritic hand threw the truck in gear. He guided the vehicle smoothly into traffic and the other trucks closed in behind.
Daria scooted as far from Travlor as she dared and massaged her wrist. His touch was repugnant. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so miserable. She wrinkled her nose and sniffed. “This truck’s disgusting and smells like dirty feet. How long do we have to be in this thing?”
Travlor stared out the window. “It is a good drive. I would suggest that you relax and enjoy the scenery.”
“Where are we?”
“The less you know, the better. Should you somehow break my constriction, I do not want you informing anyone of our whereabouts.”
Daria squeezed her eyes shut. A slow burn ignited in her chest and heat rose up her neck and into her cheeks. The man is a risen demon! She tried to calm herself by taking some slow, deep breaths. It didn’t help much. I should know better; he’s always trying to bait me. She tried breathing again and felt the tightness in her chest ease. She sighed and shook her head. If I don’t learn a sense of calm, I’m going to burst a blood vessel!
Her anger receded, helping her think more objectively. She opened her eyes. Signs! There had to be road signs. Surely I’ll see something that will give me an idea as to where we are. She craned her neck to find anything she could comprehend.
The city was obviously a major port. As they wound further away from the docks, high-rises towered overhead and buildings sprawled in either direction as far as Daria could see. Old buildings were tangled in with the new, and traffic was thick. The city’s flavor retained a deep sense of its Spanish heritage, yet modern buildings soared into the air with typical Latin flair. Palms and tropical vegetation grew thick and lush and splashes of vibrant color caught and held her attention.
Daria remembered Travlor had described the place as warm, but this was tropical, hot. As she settled herself and concentrated more intently, she noticed people dressed in vivid colors, colors as appealing as the bright flowers growing haphazardly throughout the city. It truly was a dazzling place. If she had not been brought here against her will, she might have liked to visit.
She was discouraged to find that all the signs she could see were in Spanish. She had such a limited grasp of that language that she couldn’t make sense of any of them. I might as well be in Timbuktu. She continued to look for anything in English; however, it was a lost cause.
She shivered. Even with the air conditioning cranking full blast, the air felt humid and close. She angled the vent more in her direction. It helped a little. “I’m thirsty. Can we stop for water somewhere?”
Travlor reached under the seat and pulled out a cooler, producing a couple of bottles of water. He handed one to Daria. She twisted the seal and nearly drank the whole thing. Seems I’m always thirsty now. She grinned in spite of herself and a warm glow spread through her heart. A girl, a beautiful baby girl.
She hugged herself and when she felt like she received an answering hug, she smiled, That wasn’t my imagination!
Ever since she had learned that she carried a girl, she had felt glimmerings of that sacred life growing within. Is it possible that a heightened awareness already exists between us? It didn’t matter; impossible or not, Daria felt her love returned and that was all she needed.
It took forever to get outside the city limits, and though she had tried to understand some of the signs and advertisements, Daria had become confused. Giving up, she concentrated on the sights, hoping she might be able to describe the area so well that it would give Ni-Cio a clue as to her destination. Her guess was South America. We have to be somewhere in Central or South America. It couldn’t be Spain. The trip from Greece was too long.
However, until she knew something concrete, she wasn’t going to fall prey to false hope and mistaken assumptions.
The driver finally turned off the interstate and the roads started to narrow. The countryside was verdant with unfamiliar trees and plants. They passed smaller towns and with each turn, the road conditions deteriorated and the towns dwindled. Daria was feeling the need for a break. “Aren’t we ever going to stop for gas?”
Travlor rolled his shoulders and spoke to the driver in Spanish, then looked at Daria. “We will take a break in the next town. But be quick.”
The stop came sooner than she expected. The driver pulled into a crumbling gas station that hardly looked occupied. However, as Travlor escorted her from the truck, an attendant greeted them from inside the ramshackle doorway. Travlor held up a hand, replied in Spanish, and they were quickly shown inside to a single bathroom. Daria hesitated; the place looked ready to collapse around her feet. Travlor sighed, “Go on. You asked for the stop.”
She didn’t need to be told to hurry. She tried not to cringe as she reached for the crusty iron knob. Inside the tiny room, there was not one window and only one way in and one way out. Disappointed, Daria abandoned her hope for an easy escape, and didn’t waste any more time than she had to in the moldering toilet.
Back in the truck, after what seemed like hours of driving, the road began climbing. Vegetation shouldered the sides of the two-lane road so that sunlight barely penetrated the wall of green. Daria inspected Travlor. “Aren’t you tired yet? It seems to me that the energy you expended destroying Atlantis has taken a toll on you. You’re even more gray than usual.”
Travlor stared straight ahead, but Daria thought she saw one eye twitch. “Do not worry about my energy. I have all that I require. You just maintain your calm so that the child may grow in health and tranquility.”
Daria stifled a laugh. “Well, you’ve given her a hell of a start.”
Travlor didn’t respond, so she reclined against the hard seat back and tried to get comfortable. She crossed her arms and closed her eyes. As always, her thoughts and her heart went straight to Ni-Cio. She tried to see him in her mind’s eye. Where was he now? What was he doing? How were the survivors faring? She shifted and unintentionally jostled the driver. She sighed and resigned herself to enduring to the end of the journey. My love, does your heart continue to beat after the deaths of so many?
She knew Ni-Cio would let nothing stop him from finding her, but she wanted his heart to heal. She needed his smile to shine again. She wanted his smile to be the first thing their daughter saw. He would be so proud! She gasped and jerked up. “He’s a father!”
The sarcasm in Travlor’s voice was more suffocating
than the humid air. “Yes, as so many of us are.”
Daria ground her teeth together to keep from snarling like a dog. However, before she could respond, the driver interrupted, “The next turnoff will be the road to the complex.”
She studied what little she could see of their clogged surroundings. The jungle hovered so close it was stifling, and Daria felt discouraged. It’s impenetrable. If Travlor clapped me in irons and left me to rot in a dungeon, it couldn’t be much worse!
Glancing at her captor, she hardened. I’m patient. There’ll come a time you won’t be so observant and when that happens, I’ll break your stranglehold. That thought was followed quickly by a gleeful taunt. Unless that man dies, you’re here forever, FOREVER!
Daria clamped down on an insane desire to giggle. She forced herself to think logically. He’s been kept in health for so long one would think he would be ready to go. Stealing a glance at the man to her right, she admitted, Right, he’s never been willing to step through death’s door. She rubbed her tired eyes when an unbelievable thought occurred to her. There’s something other than death he fears.
She looked at Travlor, then laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. An interesting thought; one that might provide a small wedge to shake his unflappable demeanor.
Ni-Cio and his crew descended the trail without another incident. Rocks clapped sharply beneath the weight of Rogert’s determined tread as Ni-Cio and the rest of the group brought up the rear.
The biospheres, invisible to any but the Atlanteans, were lined up in neatly ordered rows. The men separated into their designated groups grabbed the ’spheres, and carried them over the rocky shore and into waist deep water. The hatches dissolved and the teams entered their crafts.
Before his hatch materialized, Ni-Cio warned his men, “Do not let yourselves dwell on the remains of our home … we will finish our duty as quickly and efficiently as possible; however, should anyone need a break, do not hesitate. Our ocean is there for us and her beauty will help soothe you . . .” Arcing with the grace of dolphins, both biospheres slipped silently beneath the crystal blue waters.
Descending toward their home, Ni-Cio steeled himself. No matter what advice he gave to his men, none of them were ready to witness the remains of a carnage they never thought to behold.
Thankfully, when those memories had flooded his mind, Evan had kept him from the madness that threatened to devour him. The topsider had helped him more than he would ever know, and Ni-Cio had come to love him like he loved Aris. It felt as if the two friends were his brothers.
When Evan had pitted himself against his rapacious father, the dispossessed son had been instrumental in defending Atlantis. Evan had placed himself in mortal jeopardy with no regard for his own safety. Ni-Cio shook his head sadly, The son has a strength of character that reflects the best part of the father.
How Evan could ever reconcile himself to the knowledge that Travlor was his sire, Ni-Cio didn’t know. If he can live with that knowledge, then our task ahead is made less horrific by the example he has set forth.
Ni-Cio glanced over his shoulder. “Rogert, is everyone clear on procedures? And do you have any suggestions as to how we can make this easier or faster?”
He felt rather than saw the immutable shrug that was just as much a part of Rogert’s character as his careful speech. He waited patiently for his reply. The silence continued until the taciturn Atlantean put a hand on Ni-Cio’s right shoulder and squeezed. “My friend, try as you might, there is only one way through this odious task, and that is to put our heads down and place one foot in front of the other.
“We have determined the tunnel in which we will place the bodies. Right now, that must be our only focus. When that is complete, we will be ready to seal off access. Only then will the souls that have been lost find rest.
“Once that rite is complete, we must ensure that our home is free of contamination. That will involve nothing but muscle. When that is finished, and we rebuild the structural integrity, there will be no trace of the degradation we suffered. There will be nothing left to mark the passing of so many lives except our memories. The only memorial will be the wall that seals the tomb.”
Ni-Cio was surprised; it was more than he ever remembered Rogert saying at one time, but the man wasn’t through. “We must also be cognizant of our air supply. While the ’skins can last indefinitely, we do not want to tax ourselves beyond our limits. My friend, we will do what we can, then we will leave. There is always tomorrow.”
Ni-Cio smiled; it was comforting to have this man at his side. Rogert was always willing to share his strength and his wisdom. “I have never known you to give bad advice.” Ni-Cio turned his attention back to their descent. “We are almost there.”
He steered the craft toward the only remaining portal. As the portal’s entry lights no longer worked, Ni-Cio entered the tunnel at quarter-speed. The biosphere’s lights only illuminated a scant twenty feet ahead and as Ni-Cio carefully navigated the tunnel, an oppressive black veil blanketed them. Ni-Cio squinted into the dark and frowned. He couldn’t help thinking, The opening of our home is as hidden from me as Daria’s thoughts.
Evan, Kyla, and Mer-An approached the marketplace in Fira. Kyla and Evan heard the quick intake of Mer-An’s breath with her first real glimpse of Terran life.
Kyla laughed. She remembered her first time in the Terran world and decided that Mer-An was handling the transition much better than she had. She took her hand. “I think you are adjusting quickly. Wait until you see some of the wares. You will love it!”
Mer-An smiled through gritted teeth. “I am doing my best.”
“We should be able to find everything we need over there.” Evan took both their arms and led them to a nearby drug store.
Upon entering, Evan quickly found the rows of makeup. He grabbed the first thing he saw and, after scouring the contents, realized it was a blusher. “Hmm, this is harder than I thought. Wait here.”
He was only gone a short while before he returned with a stout Greek woman. “Show them what they need, please.”
The woman’s English was halting but quite understandable. She looked Kyla and Mer-An over so thoroughly that they both began to feel uneasy under her scrutiny. Before their skin started to reflect a change, Kyla plunged in. “We are in a hurry. If you could just show us what we need.”
The woman’s bushy eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. “You do not be in such a rush. You are beautiful women and I must find the right shades for you.”
She took one of the bottles, opened it and signaled for Mer-An to hold her hand out. Mer-An was startled and unsure of what was wanted; she glanced nervously at Kyla. Her friend nodded and her soft thought found Mer-An, “Just hold your hand out to her . . .”
Slowly, Mer-An offered her arm. Grabbing the Atlantean’s wrist, the woman dabbed a spot of color onto her arm and rubbed it around. Mer-An watched with timid curiosity. The woman held Mer-An’s wrist up and scowled, shook her head and grabbed another bottle. Shaking the contents rapidly, she unscrewed the cap and repeated the procedure on Mer-An’s other wrist.
She measured her work. “This is closer, I think. It is the nearest I can do.” She looked at Kyla. “Hmm, you are different.”
She rummaged through the merchandise locating the one she wanted. Handing the bottle to Kyla she nodded. “Try yourself.”
Kyla was very glad that Evan had used such a generous amount of talc on their faces. As uncomfortable as she felt under the woman’s watchful eye, their emotional coloring would have given her the shock of her life. Obviously, Evan’s efforts were working as the sales lady detected nothing out of the ordinary. Kyla mimicked the actions Mer-An had submitted to and held her wrist to the light.
“That is good. Now, you pay.” The woman’s face split into a huge smile.
Evan took Kyla’s hand. She could tell something was worrying him.
“What is it, love?”
“She’s not going to believe me when I tell her how many bottles we’re going to need …”
He cleared his throat. “Before we go, we’ll need twenty-four bottles of each color.”
The lady’s mouth dropped open, her eyebrows bristled, and her eyes bulged. Evan sent a gentle compulsion and she closed her mouth, lifted a finger and turned around. “I’ll be back.”
Escorting the ladies to the counter, Evan handed Kyla some money. “Here, pay her, then take the stuff back to the truck. I’m going to locate those supplies we need.”
Kyla nodded. “We will be there when you get back. But hurry, love.”
“As quick as I can.”
He exited the store and Kyla whispered to her friend. “How are you doing?”
Mer-An’s gaze had not stopped roving since they entered the store. “I am fascinated by so many items. It is a mystery what they do with everything.”
“And this is just a small part of what you will find. Terros is truly marvelous.”
An obdurate look crossed Mer-An’s face. “I would never want to live here. It is simply too much. How do people pick anything from so many choices?”
“Do not worry. As soon as Evan and Ni-Cio repair Atlantis, we will be back in our home safe and sound and with stories to share,” Kyla turned around, looking for the saleslady.
Mer-An hung her head, “Kyla, I do not think I will ever feel safe again.”
Surprised by Mer-An’s whispered confession, Kyla was afraid to admit that she felt the same way. Gently, she covered Mer-An’s hand with her own. “I doubt any of us will ever again feel safe. But I think it will help to be in familiar surroundings. There is comfort in that.” She gave Mer-An a loving hug and when she released her, Kyla saw the tears sparkling in her friend’s sad eyes. She placed a finger under Mer-An’s chin, encouraging her to look up. “You have Aris to keep you safe. I am not certain where Evan and I will end up, but I would follow him to the ends of Terros and beyond if needed. Just as I trust his love, his strength, and his heart, you can trust Aris. As long as we have that, then we are as safe as we will ever be.”
Currents of Will: Book Two of The Atlantis Chronicles Page 7