by K. T. Tomb
“That’s fine with me, to be honest I could eat as well.”
“Okay then, Chinese okay?”
“Perfect!” she replied.
Travis picked up the phone and dialed a number from a flyer that was stuck to his refrigerator door.
“Hello. I’d like to order a sweet and sour chicken, schezuan beef, fried wontons, large spring rolls, shrimp fried rice, vegetable stir fry and pork lo mien, please...Yes, steamed rice is fine with the other dishes...and a six pack of Stella Artois. Thank you.”
“You planning on company?”
“No” he said smiling. “I just really like Chinese food. While we’re waiting on that, why don’t I tell you the story of the Invisible City of Kitezh?
***
They settled in onboard the aircraft and waited as the flight attendants made the usual announcements and demonstrations. Travis wasn’t sure why he felt so jittery; he’d had enough sleep and he wasn’t drunk. Then he remembered the Russian coffee he’d bought at the airport café. He sank deeper into his seat in exasperation. It had been as black as crude oil, but had tasted so good. He also remembered that it hadn’t been one cup, it had been three.
They had been waiting in Moscow for three hours to board the plane to Ulan-Ude, the nearest airport to Lake Baikal. They were lucky to have just missed the tourist season at the lake which meant that it wouldn’t be overcrowded with sightseers but it also meant that flights there were now fewer. The layover had stretched their twelve hour trip into a fifteen hour one. Now that they were on the last leg of the trip, they still had ten hours of flying before they would reach their destination. Travis wasn’t pleased at the thought of spending the majority of that time hopped up on coffee.
“Adam,” he called across the aisle, “how do I get off a coffee high?”
Adam burst out laughing and said, “I told you not to drink too much of that stuff. Now you’re too keyed up to sleep and we’re going to be on this plane for quite a while.”
“Are you quite done with the “I told you so’s?” How do I fix it? I’m going to need some sleep!” Travis shuddered at the thought of wasting the opportunity to get some quality rest in the fully reclining first-class seats they were occupying for the flight.
“Drink some warm milk,” Adam suggested, “or you could try some room temperature Bailey’s cream.”
“Thanks buddy,” Travis replied, stretching up to press the call button.
Soon, he was sipping a glass of Bailey’s calmly while going over the thick information package that Xenia had given each of them at the airport. It contained all the information she had gathered over the last ten years on the Kitezh phenomenon. The first few pages were newspaper articles reporting sightings of the fabled floating city and quite a few of them were very recent.
Soon after takeoff the lights in the cabin were dimmed and he had to turn on his reading light. Travis kept flipping through the folder, reading all the new information that had been gathered for them. He was hoping that the drink would soon kick in and allow him to fall asleep. If that didn’t work, then he also hope that reading by the small, focused lighting would soon tire his eyes. Then he came across a page that made him put his glass down and sit up straight in his seat.
It was an article printed in a housewife’s magazine, probably the Russian version of Good Housekeeping, as a series on old Russian folktales. Travis had never seen such a complete rendition of the tale and it entranced him.
“Legend has it that Georgy II, Grand Prince of Vladimir, first built the town of Maly Kitezh on the Volga River many hundreds of years ago. Later on, the prince crossed the rivers of Uzola, Sanda and Kerzhenets and found a beautiful spot on the shores of the Lake Svetloyar, where he decided to build the town of Bolshoy Kitezh. He named both the towns after the royal residence of Kideksha, which had been ransacked by the Mongols in 1237.
After having already conquered some of the Russian lands, Batu Khan heard of the beauty and opulence of the prince’s new city, Kitezh and ordered his army to advance towards it. The Mongols soon captured Maly Kitezh, forcing Georgy to retreat into the woods towards Bolshoy Kitezh. The city’s location was betrayed by one of the captured men who told the Mongols about the secret paths to Lake Svetloyar. The army of the Horde followed Georgy and soon reached the walls of the town. To their surprise the town had no fortifications whatsoever. Its citizens didn’t even intend to defend themselves and were engaged in fervent praying, asking God for their redemption.
On seeing this, the Mongols rushed to the attack, but then they stopped. Suddenly, they saw countless fountains of water bursting from under the ground all around them. The attackers fell back and watched the town being submerged into the lake. The last thing they saw was a glaring dome of a cathedral with a cross on top of it. Soon only waves remained, but the chiming of the church bells and the singing of the city’s citizens rang out over the waters and the beautiful sounds of it drove the Mongol hoards mad from its beauty.
Travis was intrigued. He remembered Mark’s words as they had sat in the living room at Thyri’s villa a couple of days before. The story had been told to children by their grandmothers for centuries all over Europe. The pages he held in his hands confirmed that. Even as an amateur explorer, he knew quite well that whenever there was a story that had survived centuries, like this one had, and contained facts that could be tied back to history in even the smallest way, like this one could,there was always something to the legend that was worth investigating.
He flipped further through the papers and pulled out the most recent newspaper reports of one of the alleged sightings. He couldn’t say exactly when he fell asleep, but several hours later when he woke up he was greeted by an article which reported a woman’s claim of seeing the city appear across Lake Baikal six months prior. She claimed that it rose from the water like an apparition and hovered on the surface for several minutes. The image of it was very life like but she recalled that she could almost see the lake shore through it. It flickered and shimmered, she had said, just like if she had been watching one of those old Technicolor television sets or a movie at a drive-in before the sun had fully set.
***
“Calais, huh?” Mickey snorted. “They took the train to Calais? I wonder where those idiots think they’re going.”
He paced the room impatiently, scratching his head in bewilderment. He was sure that the girl had told him where it was they were actually going on this treasure hunting trip of theirs. If only he could remember. He drank too much, that was the problem. It had been affecting his memory for years.
“Where’s Matt? Did you find the brother yet?”
“No, Boss,” Ken answered him that time. “Wherein we could find footage of the others getting into that cab at the hotel; we couldn’t find a trace of him. There’s no cameras in his neighborhood.”
“Stupid neighborhood privacy laws,” Mickey cursed.
He still paced back and forth. Why couldn’t he remember what she had told him? God knows that when she had first come into the bond office, he couldn’t have shut her up if he’d paid her. Dammit!
“John, Ken,” he shouted; he was getting irritated with himself;“Get on the train and go to Calais. See if you can get a lead there. Please don’t come back here to tell me that you didn’t find anything so I can tell you what to do next. Call me and tell me what the situation is once you get there.”
“Okay Boss.”
“You, over there!” Mickey called to the man behind the bar. “Get me another frickin’ drink!”
***
The plane landed at the airport early the next morning and the six adventurers trudged down the steps and onto the tarmac in a daze. As comfortable as their seats had been, they were still exhausted from the flight. Quickly they caught a taxi and piled in. Xenia gave the driver an address and he was on the road to the lake in no time.
“We’re going to have to get straight to work,” she announced. “You know the visas were only granted for a two week
stay.”
“We can stay as long as we like Xenia,” Mark said smiling triumphantly, holding up the Finnish passport in his hand. “They’re all diplomats now. No one’s going to find it easy to deport us.”
Xenia’s smiled wavered for a few seconds. It wasn’t long, but Travis and Adam noticed it.
“I’d still like us to go out and see the lake today. It doesn’t matter what time you feel up to it, there’s sixteen hours of daylight at this time of year.”
There was a collective groan from the group and Thyri decided to interject.
“Xenia,” she started, “I’ve found that this set functions a great deal better when they’re well rested and properly fed. We’ve just spent a full day traveling and we are all exhausted. I doubt that the lake is going anywhere or that the sightings of the city will dry up just because we’re here now. First thing in the morning, we’ll start the investigation, for now let’s just give everyone a little room to breathe.”
Just Travis spoke up, “Xenia, I’m interested in knowing what you think is going on here. I read a lot of the information you gave me but my skeptic nature tells me it’s a load of B.S. What do you think?”
“I think it is a hoax,” she replied.
Suddenly, everyone was wide awake and listening to her.
“Why would you say that?” Adam asked.
“I don’t really want to talk about it in public, Adam, and I agree with Thyri about leaving this until the morning. I really want you all in top form; we have a huge mystery on our hands.”
They arrived at the hotel a few minutes later and everyone went their separate ways to get some well- needed sleep.
***
They gathered in Thyri’s suite for breakfast the next morning. Travis found it funny how breakfast in her room had become a bit of a tradition during the trip. He figured it was because she always had the biggest room. Xenia wasted no time getting right to the point.
“There are several unexplained phenomenon which occur naturally around the shores of Lake Baikal. The lake itself covers over thirty one thousand square kilometers of area, but it seems that every sighting of the city of Kitezh happens in the same location. It is always seen from one of the more popular viewing sites for tourists on the southern bank and seen to appear across from that point on the northern shore. I think if we start at the point these people see it from and advance to where it seems to appear we should be able to find something out.”
“It’s all we have to go on so far,” Savannah said. “I don’t think it’s a bad place to start.”
“Let’s go then, Travis summarized.”
At the lake, they stood for a while behind the railings looking out over Lake Baikal. It was the largest body of water any of them had ever seen inland.
“It’s like its own sea,” Mark said, marveling at the wide expanse of water.
“How do you suggest we get to the other side?” Fiona asked Xenia.
“I’ve arranged for a boat and some camping gear for tomorrow,” she replied. “I think it will be important for us to observe the area at different times of the day. Whether it’s a hoax or a phenomenon there’s some evidence that the cast of the sunlight may have something to do with its appearance on the water.”
“Why would you say that?” Thyri asked.
“Because it always seems to appear conveniently either at dawn or at dusk.”
Fiona took Mark’s hand and pulled him away from the others.
“We’re going to take the path down here and see if there’s any vantage point to the other shore; it’s practically impossible to see it from here.”
“Good idea,” Adam said, smiling knowingly.
The remaining five sat at a picnic table and perused the maps that Xenia had brought with her. Travis pointed out that it was clear from the satellite imagery that the different shores of the lake exhibited distinctly different geology which could mean weather patterns and other occurrences which were unique to each location. They chatted back and forth about the vast topography of the area for at least an hour before they realized that Fiona and Mark had not returned to the viewing area.
“Should we go look for them?” Xenia asked.
The others exchanged glances then burst out laughing.
“No,” Thyri finally managed. “I think we should give them a few more minutes.
Xenia shrugged and started folding up her maps to put them away. There was a strong wind picking up and she didn’t want them to blow away.
“You’ll never guess what we saw!” they heard suddenly from behind them.
It was Fiona and Mark coming up the lakeshore path hurriedly, waving their hands in excitement.
Travis and Adam exchanged a sly look as Fiona was beckoning for them to join her at the railing. She pointed out across the lake to a spot on the horizon where a sliver of land could be detected.
“Do you see that tiny piece of land out there? It’s the only bit of shore that you can see from here.”
The rest of them could barely make it out in the distance.
“We walked about a mile around that way and the lake must have narrowed around there because we could see that piece of land much clearer.”
“Is that the big discovery?” Adam asked sarcastically.
“No,” Fiona said, defensively. “When I looked through my binoculars, right at the point, I thought I could make out what looked like dust devils churning just behind the waterline. They were kicking up a lot of sand and even though they weren’t very big, I counted at least twelve individual tornadoes moving out there simultaneously. The dust made the air white with debris and there were colorful refractions bouncing off it where the sunlight passed through.”
“That’s exactly what we were just discussing,” Travis said.
“Yes, indeed, Xenia agreed.“It seems our topographic theories were correct, Mr. Monnahan.”
“Good work, Fiona!” Thyri said, beaming.
Savannah turned quickly to look at her, shocked to hear words of praise for Fiona coming out of the Norwegian’s mouth.
With that, they decided to call it a day and head back to the hotel for lunch.
“I realize that you were too far away to capture the tornadoes you saw with a camera, Fiona,” Xenia said. “But I have very many photographs of such happenings taken at various points around the lake which I think you may all find rather interesting.”
***
“I already told you everything I know. What more do you want from me?” the taxi driver asked.
“Where did you take the two blond women and the Americans?” Ken asked again.
“I already told you...I took them to Calais-Dunkerque.”
The men were confused. Was it Calais or was it Dunkirk? Were they in France or in England? What was this stupid Frenchman going on about?”
Ken suddenly lost his temper and grabbed the man’s right hand in his and grasped his middle finger. He started to push it backwards and the driver screamed in pain. Then it seems in his anger, Ken asked the right question.
“What is this Calais-Dunkerque that you keep talking about? Ya gonna have to take us there.”
“It’s the airstrip outside of town. They must have chartered a plane from there!” the man screamed.
If he had only realized sooner that he was being threatened by a pair of complete morons, he would have known to spell things out for them earlier. At that moment, he was just relieved that Ken let go of his hand without inflicting any further damage to it. He gladly drove the two to the airstrip, dropped them off and sped away.
They stopped outside the office doors and listened before they went inside. All they heard was the sound of a keyboard clacking and the humming of the air conditioning. Calmly, they both walked in and went straight for the office door.
“You can’t go in there unannounced,” the secretary said angrily, standing up from behind her desk.
Ken pulled the handgun from inside his jacket and pointed it in her direction, he pulled the t
rigger and the bullet shattered the window behind her. The frightened secretary screamed and hid beneath her desk crying as they pushed the office door open.
Calmly, John and Ken sat down in front of the man’s desk and pointed their guns at him. He was visibly shaken. Ken read the nameplate on the desk, “Cory Taylor”, it said.
“Now Mr. Taylor,” Ken said, “here’s how it’s gonna go. We got some questions we’re gonna ask ya and you’re gonna answer them so ya make us happy...or else.”
“D’ya understand?” John asked.
Cory Taylor nodded without saying a word.
An hour later, John took his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Mickey Large’s number.
“Boss,” he said. “They chartered a plane at Calais and flew to Helsinki.”
“Ha! Maybe yous two aren’t as dumb as I thought you was,” he said in his thick Irish accent. “Don’t move a muscle. I’ll be on the next train there.”
***
“Come on Mark,” Fiona shouted from the dock. “We’re ready to go.”
They were at a small boatyard on the southern shore of Lake Baikal getting ready to board a boat Xenia had hired to take them across to the northern shore. She was convinced that the dust devils Fiona and Mark had seen the day before had something to do with the appearances of the fabled city of Kitezh that were being reported so regularly near that spot. They would camp there for the night and return the next morning. When they were all settled onboard the skipper backed out of the marina and turned the vessel towards their destination.
“What exactly are you hoping to find out there Xenia?” Mark asked.
“Well the theory is that if the tornadoes are kicking up enough dust there’s a possibility that its being suspended in the air for extended periods of time,” she explained. “If it’s thick enough in suspension, I think it might be possible for someone to use some sort of device to create an image on the wall of dust just like a screen in a movie theatre.”