Migration: Beginnings (Migration Series Book 1)

by Walter Hopgood

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Franks calls, garnering everyone’s attention. And suddenly, Rhys and Jason are surrounded by half a dozen people, all looking eager to get to work. “This is Doctor Rhys Tambor, and his husband, Jason Frost-Tambor,” Franks announces, and the scientists’ attention are split between giving Rhys an approving nod, and the necklace that hangs around Jason’s neck.

  One of the scientists asks, “May I?” as they reach for the necklace, and Jason immediately reacts, pulling back.

  “Sorry,” he says as he shakes his head, holding out a hand to halt the progress of the enthusiastic scientist. “You can take pictures, but I am not taking it off.” Rhys thinks this particular scientist is evidence of his belief that, while some scientists may be brilliant, brilliance doesn’t always translate into great interpersonal skills.

  The only response he’s given is a hassled, grumpy look from the befuddled scientist, so Jason unbuttons the top three buttons of his shirt and pulls it open at the collar, giving curious eyes a better look. Meanwhile, another couple of scientists gets Rhys’ attention, directing him to a large map on the side of the room and begin peppering him with questions.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Rhys says. He’s a bit unnerved at the sheer number of people demanding attention from him. After a glance over to his husband, and based on the expression he holds, sees that he is as well. “I think this would work better if Jason and I both answer your questions, one question at a time,” he says. “Jase?” he asks. Jason leads the pack of scientists hounding him to where Rhys and the others stand.

  “Well, there are honestly just two questions that need to be answered. And those would be—One, where is the second beam? And two, where is the third beam?” states one of the scientists, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

  “Okay,” Rhys replies. He reaches out, using Jason as a touchstone to ground him in the unusual situation, and trying to not become overwhelmed. Though he’s spent many hours in labs, the current situation is a bit unnerving. “So how should we start this?” he questions as he turns to the map, glancing it over.

  One of the scientists, Doctor Sheila Burnaby, by the name badge that dangles from the collar of her blouse, pulls out what Rhys recognizes as the notes he typed up a few nights previous, with scribbled handwriting in the margins. “Well, we know where the third beam was recovered, and that one seemed to have been hidden the furthest away from the starting point, which, based on Jason’s genealogical record, seems to be from Cardiff in Wales.”

  “You know my family’s genealogical history?” Jason asks. “That’s kind of odd.”

  Nodding, Burnaby adds, “Actually, we had a professional genealogist do both of your family histories, not just yours, Mister Frost-Tambor. If you’re interested, we can forward you the information.”

  “Find anything interesting?” Rhys asks. He knows that his ancestors were also from Wales, and wouldn’t be surprised if—

  “You share a common grandmother in your history quite a few generations back. She’s your twenty-third great-grandmother, Doctor,” Burnaby says, “and is the twenty-second great-grandmother to Mister Frost-Tambor.” While this information should be more intriguing, Rhys figures that with as small a world as it is, and both he and Jason holding Welsh heritage, it’s truly not surprising that they share a common ancestor.

  “And to think, I let you do unspeakable things to me at night,” Jason jokingly says. The scientists, however, all just look at them aghast as Rhys chuckles quietly to himself. When it’s clear that nobody seems to get his teasing, Jason adds, “It was a joke…”

  “Oh,” another scientist says, and nods to the other scientists, who clinically acknowledge the joke before trying to get them refocused on the project again.

  Jason rolls his eyes and whispers, “Tough crowd,” to Rhys.

  Doctor Burnaby continues, “Well, first things first. If we can assume this third piece was found, and authenticated yesterday, here in North America, then I think it’s safe to say that the other two pieces are closer to Wales. That would seem to eliminate South America, Australia, and New Zealand from consideration.”

  “Of course,” Rhys says, nodding. While he hadn’t pulled out a map, it was something he’d already considered based on the story he knew.

  “So if we extrapolate the story from Cardiff, and take into consideration the amount of time it took to travel across the English Channel several centuries back; that is what it is referred to in the story, correct? A channel?” Finally taking a breath, Doctor Burnaby looks expectantly at Jason.

  “Yes,” Jason replies. “Grandpa always called it a channel, and not a body of water, for the first piece.”

  Another scientist interrupts. “So, for that very first beam, if it went on horseback for a week, that means it probably crossed England, and then was sent across the English Channel by ship to the European continent. It’s curious that the phrase ‘beast of burden’ was used because that could be anything; but especially curious since the term ‘horse’ was used previously. So that tells us that it’s not a horse.”

  “That doesn’t mean it wasn’t a horse,” Burnaby snippily interrupts.

  “Yes,” Doctor Matthew Rubens, by the name printed on his name badge, replies, “but I think you have to consider the linguistics; you don’t just change a proper noun. Especially when later on in the story, there is a camel identified. So, based on the fact that it took weeks to get this ‘beast of burden’ to make the trek, and the fact that the story says that it’s one of the highest mountains in the world, we think that we’ve got it narrowed down to the Alps, the Zagros Mountains, and somewhere in the Himalayas.”

  Rhys and Jason share a look, but Rhys is first to speak up. “That’s a pretty massive area to consider,” he confesses, and doubt starts to plant seeds in his previously optimistic thoughts.

  Someone new, Doctor Brian McManus, interjects, “Yes, but we’ve been doing some research,” then nods to Rubens, “to try and narrow this down.”

  “Yes,” Rubens says, taking the baton back. “We decided to input a few more parameters, taking into account the predominance of birds throughout the story, as well as the number of birds that seemed to surround the beam when it was found in Utah. We’re pretty sure we’re looking at some place in the Himalayas.”

  “How do you figure?” Rhys counters.

  “A few things. First, the fact that the trip took weeks. If it were the Alps, then the trip wouldn’t have been that long; it would have been measured in days rather than weeks. Second, horses were the preferred method of travel in medieval Europe, so I think a horse would have been identified. So that takes out the Alps.”

  Before anyone can manage to get out a question, Rubens continues, “Now we had considered Zagros, but there’s the glaring fact that if they were to have gone into the Zagros Mountains, they would have had to cross another body of water. But the story is completely lacking any details about a second body of water, so I think it’s safe to say that the Zagros is out.”

  “But the biggest thing, at least for me,” Burnaby interjects, “comes down to the lack of bird references. The Alps has some references to birds in their historical records—you know, traditional folklore and such—but the Zagros are completely devoid. Nothing that has direct reference to birds can be found in any of the names of any of the peaks or valleys of Zagros at all. So, that left us with the Himalayas.”

  “Okay,” Jason replies, “So, are there any ornithological references in the Himalayas?”

  Rhys has to wonder if Jason is having a hard time following along like he is.

  McManus joins in and says, “That’s the problem…there are quite a few references to birds throughout the Nepalese and surrounding cultures.”

  “But there are only a couple that are not modern references,” Rubens adds. “One of them is a small plain near Shaffat Glacier, that roughly translates to ‘gliding wind,’ which, of course, references flight. There’re two things wrong with that sit
e, though.” Rhys gives Doctor Rubens a curious look, but before he can ask, Rubens continues. “The gliding wind area floods regularly, so it’s highly unlikely that anything was hidden there. If it was, it has probably been swept away. And when that area’s not flooded, it’s frozen over for months at a time. Add to the fact that this area isn’t anywhere near the highest mountains, so it looks like a no-go.”

  “But we need to keep it as a consideration, just in case,” Doctor McManus interjects, earning a nod from most of his colleagues and a sigh from Rubens.

  Glancing around, Rubens continues, “The good thing is, this leaves us with just one area to consider that has to do with birds, and that is,” he turns, pointing to a spot on the map in front of them, “the Winged Valley, which is a valley below the peak of Lhotse in Nepal. It’s an ancient place, and there are caves there that are considered sacred by the locals, and as such, are protected. Typically, outsiders are not allowed to enter them.”

  “Would we be able to explore the area?” Rhys asks. While the prospect sounds promising, there’s no sense in getting their hopes up if they are to be kept out of it.

  One of the other scientists, who had been seated on the other side of the room and had yet to partake in the conversation, finally speaks up. “Yes,” she interjects. She gets up and confidently strides over to where the others are congregated. “The American Ambassador to Nepal can get clearance from higher-ups in the Nepalese government, which shouldn’t be too hard. But the good thing is, we shouldn’t have to search too much, once I can manage to get this satellite reconfigured, we’ll be able to search from the ground with this.” She pulls something out of the pocket of her lab coat that’s the size of a cellphone.

  “Satellite?” Jason asks, as Rhys adjusts his glasses so that he can get a better look at the device the scientist, Ingred von Schoor, is holding. Rhys figures if they are dedicating a satellite to help search, then this project is definitely bigger than he previously thought.

  “That,” she says, pointing to the necklace that Jason is currently wearing, then corrects herself, “well not that specifically.” She makes a face as she first considers Jason, then the necklace. “Or maybe,” she starts, and then aims the device at Jason’s necklace while studying the readout. “Hmm…well, let me check…” She walks back to her table and picks up a jar with a small piece of metal in it. Rhys figures it must be the small piece that was taken off the larger beam. “No, that, too,” she says, adding, “interesting…” She begins to wander off, staring at the device.

  “Ingred,” Doctor Burnaby says, garnering the woman’s attention.

  “Yes?” von Schoor replies, then looks around, and Rhys can recognize the look of someone who’d gotten lost in their own thoughts as von Schoor blushes slightly. “Sorry,” she absently apologizes. “Anyway, that,” she says as she points to the necklace, “as well as this,” and she indicates the specimen jar by holding it up and giving it a shake, “has a natural resonance that is quite similar to an MRI, at least in frequency, though, if I had to guess, it was due to some radioactive isotope. Purely hypothetical, based on how it acts, you understand.”

  “Radioactive?” Rhys asks. He’s suddenly alarmed at Jason possibly being in danger from some unknown force that he can’t even see, much less explain.

  “It can’t be that bad,” Jason says as he bumps Rhys’ shoulder, distracting Rhys from his morbid thoughts. “Otherwise, every generation in my family who’s worn this would have grown a third head or something.”

  After considering it, Rhys finally comes back with a headshake. “True.”

  Von Schoor continues as if she was never interrupted. “Right now, we’re configuring one of the global satellites positioned over Asia into a synchronous orbit of the Himalayas, and I’m writing a program that should help us pinpoint the general area that a specific frequency—the frequency of this metal—is coming from. When we’re on the ground, we should be able to use this,” she waves the device in her hand. “It doesn’t work from very far, not for more than 200 meters or so. Oh, and we’re going to have to make sure you aren’t interfering with it,” she says as she moves the device between Jason and the jar in her hand, “ but it should at least give us something to work with.”

  “When will you know the results?” Rhys asks.

  “The satellite? That’ll be repositioned at about 2:00 a.m. local time. As for this,” and she once again holds out the hand-held scanner, “we know the results already; it works,” von Schoor continues. “The hardest part has been getting our hands on the right satellite, and getting it into the orbit we need. After that, it’s just a matter of uploading a new programming scheme, and starting a scan of the area—starting with the Winged Valley.”

  Rhys nods, and figures they’ll know soon enough. “Okay, so what about the last piece?” he asks. “Has there been any progress made on that?”

  Several of the scientists hold expressions of frustration that tells Rhys everything he needs to know; the looks say that the debate over the whereabouts of the third piece has been much more contentious, and no definite progress has been made.

  Clearing her throat, Doctor Burnaby once again takes over the discussion. “Well, when you consider that the legend talks about crossing a vast desert, which means some place south of the Sahara. Somewhere south of the Tropic of Cancer, toward the middle of the African continent, so we’re dealing with an area that’s rather huge.” She ticks off countries with her fingers, “Uganda, Kenya, Tanzania, Zambia…. Those are the countries with the most prominent waterfalls on the continent though they are by no means the only ones.”

  “And ornithological references?” Rhys asks.

  Rubens takes over the conversation. “That’s the problem; there are quite a few of them. It’s going to take some time to figure it out, but hopefully once we make sure that the Winged Valley in Nepal is accurate, we’ll be able to swing the satellite into an orbit so we can start scanning the most promising places. We’ve already narrowed it down to falls that have some sort of reference to birds, though there are many.”

  “How will you know where to start?” Jason asks.

  “That’s what we’ve been discussing.” And by Rubens’ tone, Rhys can tell that this is where most of the tension must lay. “We’ve had some…creative differences on that.”

  After considering the map for a moment, Rhys turns back to the scientists. “Which of these areas is more prone to cave-like structures? Especially around the bodies of water?” Rhys asks.

  “That would be Victoria Falls, Kalambo Falls, and Mutarazi Falls,” von Schoor throws in. “Geologically, they are the most similar and are all quite prone to having caves. There are still unexplored caverns in all three of those falls to this day.”

  “And Victoria Falls is the most famous, right?” Jason asks.

  “If by famous you mean the biggest tourist attraction, then yes,” von Schoor adds, “it is.”

  “Shouldn’t we start there?” Jason asks.

  When there’s no immediate answer, Rhys speaks up. “I think we should,” he says authoritatively. The last piece of the ancient device could be nearly anywhere on the African continent, but they can at least start with one of the most famous areas. Rhys figures that it’s as good an idea as any.

  There’s almost a spiritual lift that follows Rhys’ decision, as the group lets go of the one thing that’s been holding them back for the last day or two.

  “Very well,” von Schoor says. “After we scan the caves in Nepal and locate the beam, I’ll get the satellite repositioned and start with Victoria Falls.”

  “Good!” Rhys says, and clasps his hands together, the clap sounding throughout the room. “So what else do we need to work on, then?”

  Chapter 12

  Rhys and Jason finish up their day at the lab making good progress. There is a discussion about what powered the beam, and how, exactly, they might be able to utilize the device when all three pieces are brought together. The late afternoon discuss
ion finds the scientists contemplating what they would like to happen if the legend is actually true. There is a resounding chorus of “Yes!” when McManus says that all he really wants is a chance at normality again.

  Just before 5:00 p.m., Franks shows up, the metallic-sounding bell of the elevator announcing her arrival. She sits in a corner, being as unobtrusive as possible, which was pretty remarkable, seeing as how Rhys doesn’t even remember her slipping from the room earlier.

  “Sirs?” Franks asks when there’s a lull in the discussion. Rhys and Jason say their goodbyes and start to make their way downstairs, following Franks to the car.

  As they walk out to the car, Jason admits to Rhys that the whole thing about his grandfather’s story being unmasked as probably having truth behind it has left him a bit unnerved; he wishes he had paid more attention to his grandfather, and all the stories that he had shared. Rhys just climbs into the car after him, dropping a kiss against Jason’s shoulder as they get underway.

  “Oh, don’t forget,” Jason says to Franks with a yawn, as he leans into Rhys.

  “No, sir, I haven’t forgotten,” Franks responds, though Jason misses it. As Franks replies that they will stop at a Target near their hotel, Rhys feels the warm weight of his husband on his shoulder, and again, he’s jealous that Jason can be so comfortable, falling asleep in an instant.

  The drive back takes a little longer than expected, what with late afternoon traffic causing them more than a few slowdowns. Just as Rhys is starting to recognize the sights from the night before, Franks pulls into a parking lot. Rhys gently rouses his sleeping husband, and braces himself for a mad dash through the store. To watch Jason in a large store is akin to watching an ADD-riddled second grader in a ball pit; he usually bounces his way across the store, picking up things along the way. It’s always entertaining, but not the most efficient use of their time.