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  When they reached the grassy meadow, a three-meter-tall bier had already been built. The surrounding ground was charred in four places.

  Des helped the warriors lift Itar’s body onto the bier and cover him with a silken white cloth. Four warriors remained close, holding torches.

  Oom arrived, covered with soot, and stood in the shadows of the trees.

  Des hugged him.

  Adeyo drummed with bowed head.

  Rayna placed the broken bow and arrow from the museum display on Itar’s chest.

  Des noted that no one stood where Itar had sat to deliver the last eulogy. He waited until everyone was present. Itar’s guards flanked Des; Anastasia was by his side, and Ray-na and Alée stood next to the guards. All faced the warriors. Nobody spoke, no one cried. Des knew this was the way of the people.

  “Itar is a god,” Des said loudly in the Anasazi language. “Ah-tak-ooné sana, á ooé sana nana say!”

  There were murmurings among the warriors.

  Des continued in Anasazi: “Itar has taken his rightful place among the gods and watches over us. He protects us from evil, and delivers us from servitude.”

  Des nodded to the torchbearers.

  They lit the bier. It erupted with towering flames.

  Anastasia spoke briefly to the timekeeper. His shadowy figure flittered away from the clock.

  Des watched the lodestone carve a new line in the sand.

  “The timeline is too long,” Des said.

  “What do you mean?” Anastasia asked him.

  “Who built this timepiece?”

  “The ancient ones. It is recorded in the runes.”

  “What runes?”

  Anastasia led Des to an antechamber. Inside, he waved his torch from side-to-side. The room was an eight-meter cube, with a flat, granite ceiling above a parallel granite floor. It was like a vault without a door. The walls were smooth and covered in hieroglyphics. Des understood none of it, until he found pictographs.

  “Oh, my God!” Des exclaimed.

  “What is it?”

  “Look!”

  Anastasia said, “It is a bird.”

  It wasn’t a bird. It was an airplane.

  “The beasts must not find this,” Des said, wondering what other secrets were hidden in the runes.

  Outside the cave entrance, warriors carried baskets laden with fruits and nuts. They placed them alongside urns filled with water within the cavern’s entrance.

  Warriors brought up coils of hemp rope ten centimeters in diameter.

  Des now realized the beasts would slaughter all of them if he didn’t win this battle, just like they had done to the ancient ones. Technology hadn’t saved the more advanced society; the beasts must have overtaken the ancients by brute force. Thousands of beasts—or maybe tens of thousands—had overrun and annihilated another culture. And they would try to do the same here.

  A hundred warriors threw hemp ropes around a large boulder that jutted upward near the mouth of the cave. They pulled the apex of the cone-shaped rock until it fell, covering the opening. Des heard a few “yi, yi, yi’s” as they removed the ropes.

  “We must not fail,” Des told Anastasia.

  “Abba,” she replied.

  “We must have contingency plans for the others to use if I’m captured, a chain of command.”

  “Abba.”

  “What will happen to the timekeeper, if we don’t remove the stone?”

  “Before death, he will brush the sand clean, record the time, and make sure the clock is running smoothly. It is his job.”

  Chapter 38

  T-minus (02:22:30:00)

  “Have you got Five cleared up yet?” John asked as he and Amy walked into the control room.

  “We’ve lost platforms Eighteen and Nineteen,” Land replied from his console.

  John felt his face flush and knew that anger would overwhelm him if he weren’t careful.

  Land continued: “They’ve simply disappeared. I’ve sent down plenty of probes, but they’re gone, John; I don’t know how. We cleaned up Five, and I’ve got electricity all the way down to Seventeen. I’ve got two men ready on Eight. But Eighteen and Nineteen are just no longer there.”

  John said nothing as he tried to control his anger at Anderson for not having more foresight.

  The red telephone in the corner rang. everyone looked at it, but nobody moved.

  “I’m not picking that up,” Land said as it rang again. He turned back to his monitor.

  John picked it up. “Yes?”

  “John, is that you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What’s taking so long?”

  “We’ve had some problems that are delaying progress.”

  “I don’t give a flying fig! Dammit, haven’t I given you everything? Get down in that hole and find my son! Do you understand? I want him back, now!”

  “Yes, sir, but—”

  “No excuses!”

  John cradled the receiver and turned to Amy and the five controllers.

  “Lock down,” he told Amy.

  After Amy shut and locked the door, John continued. “I want everything turned off. Turn it all off.”

  “What about the two men on Eight? If we shut down, they’ll be on their own,” Land said.

  John said, “So give them notice. I want it all off—the gauges, the monitors, the computers, anything that’s electric, anything that hums—while we have a meeting.”

  Land spoke briefly to the men on Eight, then shut down his computer as the other controllers did the same.

  John heard only the buzz from the overhead fluorescent lights. “From now on, until this project is completed, everyone in this room will be paid at the rate of one thousand dollars per day.”

  Two of the controllers gasped.

  “I know some of you are only technicians, just here to read and record the data or whatever; that doesn’t matter—you’re all going to be paid the same. I’m not doing this out of generosity. You’ve all been here since the beginning and everyone knows where it’s gotten us. Now, collectively, we’re going to figure out what we are doing wrong, how we are going to correct it, and how we are going to reach our goal. I’m paying you a thousand dollars a day, and I expect you to be worth your pay. Now, let’s brainstorm.”

  The materials woman raised her hand, then said, “I think we need Anderson back. That man knows a lot. Before he left, things were going well.”

  “Did you hear that, Amy? Get Anderson back. Offer him money. If that doesn’t work, offer him more. As soon as this meeting is over, I want you to get on it.”

  “Understood,” Amy responded.

  John said, “What ever happened to that guy Jack Squires?”

  “I don’t know; I haven’t seen him. His background check arrived yesterday, but I haven’t read it yet,” Amy said.

  “Well, find him and bring him back, too. Timothy, if I got you Jack’s computer, do you think you could break into his files and see what the hell’s in there?”

  Land answered, “Absolutely. For a thousand dollars a day, I could break into Fort Knox.”

  “What else?” John asked.

  “We don’t need platforms,” the personnel clerk blurted, trembling a little.

  “Why not?”

  “Well, sir,” she said nervously, “I think we only need stations. Every hundred kilometers we could just have a staging area on one side of the vent for cable junctions and just use the platform elevator to get the men in, get the men out.”

  John rubbed his chin while trying to ascertain if her suggestion would work with what was now in place.

  He said, “It’d be like mountain climbing, carrying everything you need on your back and making camps at night, or...you take hardly nothing at all and you quickly get your ass u
p to the top and get your ass down. Our pack is too heavy. Lady, you just earned an extra thousand dollars. Okay, who’s next?”

  The blackout lasted ninety minutes, and when activities resumed, John had a portfolio of new ideas.

  John surveyed the rows of employees in folding chairs on the factory warehouse floor. The rumor mill had been working overtime, and he knew many of them thought they were about to lose their jobs.

  “Can I have your attention, please,” John began. “We’ve had some major setbacks, as you know. The first four platforms have collapsed into Five. We’ve inspected and removed all debris from Five, but we’ve also lost platforms Seventeen, Eighteen and Nineteen.”

  There were some murmurs; the loss of Seventeen was new. John waited until they quieted before he continued.

  “One man has died. His body has been recovered and his family notified. They will receive a generous stipend for his courageous work. This looks like a lost cause, ending our mission…”

  Audible disappointment.

  John said emphatically, “Well, it’s not lost, not ended! Mr. Anderson has returned to help us continue.”

  The workers responded with enthusiastic applause.

  “We’ve caught a spy and turned him over to the Australian authorities. We don’t know the complete story, but it appears he was selling information illicitly and attempting to sabotage our mission for some reason not yet determined. We’ve been going at this all wrong, but now we’re going to do it all right. We’re going to move to the interface within a week, and inside the core within two. Dr. Anderson assures us we have at least that long. Instead of building platforms, we’re building stations out of materials that are already down there. We’re going to get men down fast. Are you with me?”

  “Yes!” reverberated from the crowd.

  The center of Platform Sixteen began to vibrate and hum.

  Chapter 39

  T-minus (02:21:00:00)

  Bearters and Mitch arrived in separate cars.

  Mitch arrived first and climbed onboard the Chinook helicopter, wearing his fur coat and carrying one soft-sided suitcase. The crew greeted him warmly. Mallory shook his hand and asked him to buckle in so they could take off as soon as possible.

  Mitch grinned when he saw Hans.

  “Why, you old whale-hunter-hunter!” he said, giving Hans a bear hug that lifted him off the floor. “So, you did come!”

  “Ja.” When Mitch put him down, Hans pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to him. “Stephen wanted to come, too.”

  The envelope read: “To my dearest friend, Mitch.”

  Mitch carefully laid his fur coat on the floor in front of a window seat and buckled himself in. He stared at the envelope in his lap, afraid to open it because Stephen undoubtedly had a very compelling reason for not coming.

  As Bearters climbed onboard, the crew greeted him as coolly as they had greeted Mitch warmly.

  Hans merely said “Hello” without emotion.

  Bearters sat in the same row as Mitch, leaving an empty seat between them. Mitch glanced at him once, then went back to turning the envelope over and over in his lap.

  Two Inuit guards walked the length of the helicopter, checking each compartment, while Fishand followed behind them.

  Mitch finally opened the envelope, removed the one-page letter and unfolded it.

  Dear Mitch,

  I would like nothing better than to be sitting and talking to you instead of writing this note. Yes, they did ask me to go—in fact, they almost begged. Colonel Wingert arrived at my office last week and, let me tell you, my patients were quite surprised! He certainly has the power of persuasion—the whole team together on an expedition to rescue one of our own, etc. But I’m sorry, Mitch, I had to decline.

  Mitch looked at Bearters, who sat stoically, his face pitted with displeasure, then he returned to the letter.

  I’m afraid my days of adventure are over. I fondly remember the time our team spent together; every day, something reminds me of the adventure of a lifetime. You, Des, Bearters, Hans, and even Jack, made it so. I thank all of you for that.

  Much as I would like to join you all again, I am needed more at home. I am sorry to tell you that Kathy has been diagnosed with breast cancer. We are doing everything possible to fight this monster.

  Mitch’s eyes filled with tears. Oh my God, poor Kathy! Poor Stephen.

  Fishand smirked as he approached Bearters and Mitch. He patted Mitch on the shoulder as he passed.

  “Have a nice trip.”

  Whistling gaily, he descended the ramp to the tarmac beyond; his guards followed.

  Bearters pulled a clean white handkerchief from his pocket and laid it on the empty seat between them. Mitch picked it up, wiped his eyes, then blew his nose into it. He handed Bearters the wadded-up cloth, then finished Stephen’s letter.

  Kathy and I both wish you all the best of luck on this adventure. GO GET DES!

  Forever your friend, Stephen.

  As the ‘copter gently lifted off the ground, Mitch handed the letter to Bearters, who began reading it with a scowl.

  Mitch’s fur coat moved slightly on the floor. Bearters glanced at it, then finished reading the letter.

  He sighed deeply. “Bad break.”

  The fur coat moved again as Bearters handed the letter back to Mitch. The sleeve had a lump, which was moving towards the cuff. A small pink nose poked out.

  “Ah, Mitch?” Bearters said quietly.

  “What?”

  “There’s something in your coat.”

  Mitch looked down, feeling the effects of his sleeping pill kicking in.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. I wasn’t sure of the proper dose to give them, so they’re still awake.”

  “Who’s awake?” Bearters asked.

  “Samson and Delilah. Don’t worry, they’re housebroken.”

  The two puppies emerged from the sleeves and wagged their tails.

  “I think it’s potty time,” Bearters observed.

  As soon as the chopper reached altitude, Mitch put on his fur coat, stashed the pups inside, and headed for the bathroom, where he closed and locked the door.

  “Okay, pee, come on, pee,” Mitch encouraged. “Come on, you can do it, pee. That’s a good boy. Good pee.”

  When they had finished, Mitch opened the door and found Hans right outside.

  Hans said, “Prostate? It’s nothing to be ashamed about, but talking to your wiener will not solve the problem. See a doctor!”

  Mitch went back to his seat and carefully laid his fur coat on the floor in front of him. He got two small semi-moist treats laced with a small amount of Dr. Stephen’s pills and gave one to each puppy.

  “There, that should quiet them down for awhile,” Mitch told Bearters, then snapped his fingers. He reached inside his fur for an envelope and handed it to Bearters. “Your ass is grass when Fishand finds out what you’ve done.”

  Bearters opened the envelope and removed a check that had his name on it; it was for one million dollars.

  “I have a plan,” he said with a smile.

  “It’ll take a week to ten days to clear, but I guarantee it’s as solid as Sears.” Mitch was becoming giddy from the medication. Everything started to look and sound stupid; he laughed.

  Bearters chuckled along with him as he folded the check and put it in his wallet.

  Mitch tried to contain himself, but giggled and laughed.

  Bearters joined in until both men were close to tears. He held up his hand to get Mitch to stop, and Mitch slapped it.

  “We did it, you ol’ crotch weasel,” Mitch said, and they burst out laughing again.

  Mallory came down the aisle and stopped with a smile while Mitch and Bearters regained control.

  “Four days,” Bearters managed to say between giggles.r />
  Mallory looked confused. “No, Fishand told Mitch two days.”

  Bearters chuckled. “He changed his mind.”

  Mitch squeezed out, “Why?”

  Bearters paused to stifle a laugh, then told Mallory, “I told him I needed more time, so that I could…push Mitch back down the path towards the drop zone with his nose on the ground and have him pick up with his teeth,” he paused again, fighting laughter, “every gum wrapper and beer can he dropped along the way! And-he-thought-that-was-a-good-idea!”

  They all laughed heartily.

  Once they had settled down, Mallory said, “That changes things. With four days, we could clean up the camp, so we’ll fly there first, put the equipment onboard, then go to the Vent.

  Chapter 40

  T-minus (02:12:32:06)

  Des knew he had to face Rawool again; time was running short, and he would need Rawool’s help if they were to defeat the beasts. He asked Alée to go with him to translate. Des was beginning to master the Anasazi language, but someone fluent would be valuable—and he didn’t want to bring Anastasia.

  Rawool was sitting cross-legged at his campfire when Des, Alée and Itar’s guards approached. He stood to confront them, then he spat into the fire and sat. His men closed in behind him.

  Des said, “We need to talk.”

  After Alée translated, Rawool spat into the fire again.

  “Rawool, I need your help.”

  Again, Alée translated.

  Rawool laughed. He stood. “My help? You need my help?”

  Alée began to translate, but stopped when Des touched her arm and shook his head. Rawool was becoming more agitated.

  Des said in Anasazi, “We should defeat the beasts together, then work through our differences.”

  Rawool spoke at length. Des was pleased he was opening up; he understood most of what Rawool said, and it made sense. Rawool was a proud warrior, unafraid to fight, and would be a valuable asset.