Expedition Beyond Read online

  Anastasia had returned, breathless. “Des, we rally now.”

  The rider next to Elan war-whooped, kicked her horse and was off at a dead run down the beach. The crowd screamed and ran after her. Alée’s warriors were moving to stay between the villagers and the galloping horse.

  “What’s happening?” Des cried to Anastasia, as she ran after the others.

  There was a crack. A coconut flew high in the air and hung for a moment before dropping to the ground. The horsewoman had whacked it with her war club.

  The crowd stopped to cheer with delight.

  Sometimes the horses ran in pairs, with the riders relaying a coconut back and forth between them. Horses charged at each other, almost colliding, and the coconuts would sail.

  “Look, Des,” Anastasia said as she pointed up the beach.

  Des saw a woman standing on the back of her loping horse. A man was riding towards her. He popped up a coconut, and she swatted it back.

  The crowd went wild. Now Des was jumping with enthusiasm, too.

  Four riders came abreast. The first one batted a coconut into the air. The second rider kept it midair, as did the third, and also the forth.

  The show lasted for more than an hour.

  The seated camel bawled when Des threw a sixth sack of corn on her back, but at least the villagers wouldn’t starve.

  “Are you sure the place they’re going is safe?” Des asked Anastasia.

  She shrugged. “They want warriors to go with them to protect them.”

  “No can do. We need all the warriors here, ready to fight.”

  “What if they are attacked?”

  Des motioned for the driver to move on. When she clicked her tongue, the camel stood up.

  Des replied, “They won’t be attacked. The beasts will come here first.”

  “Why?” Anastasia asked.

  “Because they want me. They see me as the instigator, the one who started this fight, so they will track me down.”

  “Take care of Anastasia,” Bethenna told Des, hugging him hard.

  Des was truly surprised. Not only was Bethenna hugging him, but also she had spoken in English.

  “Yi, yi, yi,” Des replied.

  The caravan started moving. Camels carrying supplies, children, the sick and the elderly were followed by most of the village’s sheep and cattle.

  “Tell Bethenna we’ll send word when we have defeated the beasts,” Des said.

  Anastasia relayed the message to her sister, who smiled faintly before joining the departing line.

  “Itar is too weak to travel,” Anastasia said.

  Itar! Des hadn’t seen him for almost a week. He had been too busy preparing the troops.

  “Of course he can stay—in fact, I need him. But he must leave his house before the beasts arrive. The lower village should be empty; he can stay in the museum. The door there can be locked and the roof slats are too narrow for the beasts to slide through.”

  Nearly fifteen hundred souls left the village that day, bound for havens down the coast and inland. As the warriors brushed away their families’ footprints, Des inventoried who was left, besides himself and Anastasia:

  496 women warriors

  62 men

  42 horses

  Itar and his two guards

  Six young girls who were the fastest runners he could find.

  And, hopefully, God was on their side, too.

  The captains encircled the fire at Say-ance, watching as Des wrapped a dry banana leaf around a pile of gunpowder and tied the roll with vine.

  “Make sure it’s tight so the powder stays inside.”

  Anastasia translated.

  Des cradled the packed leaf in a forked branch. Alée lit the leaf with her torch, then Des hurled the firebomb. It exploded, showering sparks and burning leaf.

  “That should get their attention,” Des said with satisfaction.

  The lower village would remain empty in case the beasts mounted a surprise attack. The horses would be moved to a higher location to prevent the livestock paddocks from being raided—Des suggested Adeyo’s flat space on the mountain, and the captains concurred.

  “They may or may not send a sentinel boat this time, but we have to bury the powder kegs in the sand just before the beasts arrive to keep the powder and fuses dry, so we need an early warning system. Using Adeyo’s drums failed last time, so we should devise a better system.”

  After Anastasia translated, Alée suggested round-the-clock canoes out at sea.

  Des nodded. “Good suggestion. Alée, have canoes in the water at all times, beginning tomorrow. Station them just offshore at Oom’s, so when you see the beast boats, you can alert Oom first. Adeyo should watch, too, so if he sees something, he can use his drums.” He turned to Anastasia. “Where is Itar?”

  “He is at home, not feeling well.”

  Des made a mental note to visit him.

  “I want everyone to practice burying the powder kegs and fuses on the beach one more time, then we’ll store them in E-shandra.”

  He explained how he wanted linear strips cleared through the forest and up the mountainside, then loaded with dry timbers and grass, referring to the cleared areas where beasts could be trapped as “shooting galleries.”

  Elan proposed that her cavalry fight from the beach to push the beasts towards the warriors on the mountain, describing thundering horses plowing into the enemy and causing major havoc. Alée countered with the argument that their forces would then be split. Des agreed and announced that the cavalry would begin behind the foot-warriors. Horsewomen left on the beach might be overtaken and lost early in the battle.

  If only he’d realized that not all the beasts would come by sea.

  Chapter 36

  T-minus (06:02:32:16)

  John panned the camera to the hole in the platform floor and saw the nose of the luge appear.

  “Help me pull him up,” Emery told Westmore.

  The two men grabbed grips on each side and slid the machine back onto the platform. Emery thumped Sam’s helmet while Westmore unclipped his harness.

  “You okay?”

  Sam nodded. Emery turned off the magnets, then the men hauled Sam to his feet. He was furiously unzipping the front of his suit.

  “So, what’s it like on the other side?” Westmore asked.

  “I need to pee,” Sam said as he hurried towards the Port-o-potty.

  Jack said, “He’s an exceptional explorer, that one. Being on the other side seems to focus your attention away from mandatory bodily functions.”

  Emery shouted to Sam through the closed door, “Hey, what’s out there past the interface?”

  “I want to talk to Sam as soon as possible,” John said as soon as Emery picked up the phone.

  Emery said proudly, “We’ve put a man past the void, past the interface, past zero gravity, and into the vent to the core. Even more importantly, we have successfully brought him back.”

  “So, what did he say? What’s it like?” John asked.

  “He said it’s a lot like the vent here, only the gravitational field is reversed.”

  More than halfway, John thought, with a little over two weeks left before it might not be safe to continue. “Thank you. You have done well.”

  The platform elevator approached, then slowed; the elevator normally changed cables before reaching Level Nine. Bill heard gears grinding on spindles, then the abrupt clank of the locking device setting teeth in the new cable. After engagement, the lift whisked past his level with four men on the elevator; one waved to Bill as they ascended.

  Bill leaned his back against the table and returned to the engrossing novel he was reading. As he reached for his coffee cup, the warning “all clear” light flickered purple then turned blue. The signal didn’t register with Bill until
he’d read another five sentences, then he stared at the dome in disbelief, his book sliding to the floor, forgotten.

  The walls crunched and Bill heard the floor roll in and out as if the walls were breathing. He grabbed for the phone, then dropped the receiver. He knew the rules: If the light came on, get out immediately.

  The elevator shaft was empty—both the platform carrier and cage were elsewhere. He pounded on the call button for the cage.

  “Come on,” he muttered.

  The walls breathed again, but they had moved before without any problems, so maybe there had just been a light malfunction. He had seen the platform elevator pass by. That elevator was faster than the cage, and the four men on it hadn’t seemed troubled, so what could possibly be wrong? John said they had fixed One and Two. He checked the elevator directory; the cage was at Level Four, changing cables.

  Bill thought that someone was going to have a lot of explaining to do when he got topside.

  Alarms were sounding as John and Amy rushed into the control room over Anderson Vent One.

  “Turn that shit off!” John had to holler to be heard.

  There were five control operators in the room. One hit a switch, and the alarms quieted.

  “What’s the problem?” John asked Timothy Land, the operations manager. Land was seated before an eight-meter by four-meter wall-screen displaying the fuzzy image of the back of a man in a hardhat with a pack of cigarettes in his rolled-up sleeve.

  “We’ve had destabilization of platforms One and Two due to structural damage at the granite wall seams,” he replied.

  “English, man, English,” John pleaded.

  “Platform one is cracking up and in danger of failing.”

  “What do you mean ‘cracking up?’” John asked in disbelief.

  “How many men are down there?” Amy asked.

  “Five. I’ve turned on the warning lights. The four men who had been on Level Nineteen are almost out. The one on Level Nine hasn’t moved, but I’ve sent the cage down to get him. Wait a minute. There he goes.”

  John looked towards the mountains of construction materials in the adjacent warehouse.

  “Are we in any danger here?” he asked.

  Land said, “I don’t think so. I’ve ordered all of the doors to be left open just in case we do experience any suction.”

  “What can we do to re-stabilize One?” John asked.

  “Nothing until we get the elevator back. The elevator is totally separate from the platforms, not integrated like the cage is. I’ll assemble a team to inspect One as soon as it arrives.”

  “Destabilization of Platform One almost complete,” an operator announced from across the control room.

  John didn’t have to ask what that meant. He knew it was bad, very bad.

  Land now had Platform One displayed on the wall monitor. They watched it buckle centrally, then fall.

  “Power loss in the cage cable,” someone called from across the control room.

  “The four men are safe,” another operator said.

  “Where the hell is Bill?” John asked.

  Land said, “He’s on or near Three, as far as I can tell. The phones went out a few minutes ago, but I’ve got them back up now and I really need to talk to him.”

  “Then dial him up!” John said angrily.

  “I tried. I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “The line’s busy…He needs to get below Level Five.”

  “Why?” John asked.

  Land said, “We haven’t got time to bring him up now, even if we had power and pulled up the cage at maximum speed. Plus, there’s got to be a lot of debris falling in the vent. Level Five is reinforced; the floor is anchored with perpendicular struts because every fifth platform was built to withstand additional force. It will hold, but Bill needs to get below it now.”

  Bill’s cage stopped just short of Platform Three.

  “Now, what the hell?” he muttered.

  He forced open the cage door, climbed up to the platform and went over to the desk where he picked up the telephone receiver. It was dead. He dropped the receiver and was removing the elevator switch cover when the telephone beeped through the earpiece, then repeated.

  Debris from Level One crashed onto Level Two and the platform Bill was on shuddered. The cage suddenly activated and ascended to the floor, nearly slicing into Bill’s hand.

  “Well, it’s about time,” he said, climbing onboard and closing the gate. He pressed the up button but nothing happened—the gears above him hadn’t changed cables.

  The telephone beeped again. Bill heard a rumbling noise approaching from above. He looked up the elevator shaft, but couldn’t see anything. The warning light flickered.

  He left the cage as the rumbling got louder and flicked the button on the telephone several times.

  “Hello?”

  A voice spoke rapidly, but Bill couldn’t make out the words.

  “I can’t hear you. There’s a lot of noise here.”

  The voice shrieked, “The platforms are falling. Get below Five!”

  Bill knew exactly what that meant because he had designed the system where every fifth platform was reinforced.

  He’d made it halfway back to the cage before there was a crunching in his skull.

  Level Three swayed, buckled, then fell towards Four. Bill was already dead.

  “Where the hell is Bill?” John watched the monitor with horror.

  “I don’t know,” Land said. “I warned him and started the cage down before the impact, but I don’t know if he’s on it.”

  The cage icon stopped at Level Four to change cables, then was obliterated.

  “Well, now we know,” John said grimly.

  The debris from all four upper levels fell towards Five.

  “It will stop at Five,” Land said confidently.

  John said, “A lot of fucking good that’s going to do Bill—or us.”

  When an air horn blasted, John beat it with his fist until it fell off the wall.

  “Suction!” Land yelled.

  John looked at Amy and shrugged.

  A sharp wind whisked through the room; everything moved that was not bolted down. Papers flew madly. Amy shrieked as she was pulled towards the door. John grabbed her arm and held onto the jamb. In the warehouse, cyclone-force wind scattered the construction materials.

  The suction lasted five minutes, then everything settled to the floor.

  “Impact on Five, coming up.” Land hadn’t moved from his computer.

  John turned towards the screen, stunned by all that was happening.

  Land said, “Impact.”

  Debris slammed into Platform Five. It shuddered, then held.

  “That looks like the end of it,” Land said.

  John told Land, “We’ve still got the platform elevator. Get a team down to Level One as soon as possible to see what’s left. Build pseudo-platforms from there, if you have to, to get cables running down to Five. Anderson said we have at least two weeks left before the platforms below Five could be in danger, but I’m giving you only twenty-four hours to get to Five. Move your teams—we are fucking out of time.”

  The floor on Level Nineteen emitted a high-pitched sound, and began to vibrate; the warning light slid across the table and crashed to the floor. The vibration tone lowered an octave. The platform shook, as everything not bolted down moved towards the center. A coffee mug smashed to the floor, then another. The cable extending downward from the frame went limp as the telephone jangled off the table.

  Then the entire platform was sucked into the void.

  Chapter 37

  T-minus (04:16:03:15)

  Des had gotten his warriors ready for evening calisthenics on the beach when Anastasia ran up to him, breathless and very pale.
r />   “Itar is ill,” she gasped.

  Itar! Des had forgotten to visit him. He felt faint as he wheeled around to the warriors, his eyes blurred with sudden tears.

  “Alée, quickly!” he called, as he began running towards the museum. Alée, Anastasia and Ray-na followed him, but more slowly.

  “No, it can’t be,” Des repeated under his breath as he ran.

  Itar’s guards stood outside the open door. Not a good sign, Des thought as he hurried past them.

  Inside, Des allowed his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light as he caught his breath. The curator stood stone-faced.

  “Where is Itar?” Des demanded of the old woman.

  She didn’t move.

  After surveying the main room, Des bolted down the torch-lined corridor that led to the inner sanctum. He slipped inside.

  Itar’s palanquin was next to the uncovered quartz skull; the curtains were drawn. Torches encircled both.

  “Itar, it’s me, Des.”

  Des drew back the cloth. Itar’s chest heaved no more. His eyes stared upward.

  “Dammit! No! Breathe!”

  Des pressed vigorously on Itar’s heart and pumped. He put his mouth against cold lips and blew. He tried again in vain, but Itar wasn’t ill—he was dead.

  Des said, his voice quivering, “Oh my God, I abandoned you when you needed me most. How can I ever be forgiven?”

  “Des?” Anastasia was next to him, tears streaming down her face.

  “It’s no good. I can’t do anything.” He wanted to say more, to console her, to comfort her, but was grief-stricken himself. He hugged her tightly.

  Alée entered the room. He said to her, “Tell the others; we have a funeral to attend.”

  The procession moved silently up the mountain. Itar’s guards insisted on carrying his body, which they did with poles over their shoulders. Itar lay on a woven reed stretcher between them.

  Des climbed behind the guards, Anastasia by his side. He thought about how he had met the old man when Des had been injured and laying on a hospital bed in an unknown and primitive land. He thought of Itar’s quick wit, and once the communication barrier had been breached, of how he had grown to appreciate Itar’s council and love the man himself. He remembered how Itar had shown him the treasure in the museum with its hidden secret—the crystal skull, how Itar’s eyes had twinkled when he asked Des, “Good show?” Now he was gone. Those same eyes would never see again. No longer could Des depend on Itar’s sound advice; he excoriated himself for the missed opportunities in recent days.