The Yanti (36 page)

At the same time Ali was in Washington, D.C. with General Kabrosh—and Ra and Geea were in the green world preparing to do battle with the Shaktra—Cindy was exiting a cave high on the slopes of Pete’s Peak.

With Cindy was a host of unusual characters: Ali’s father; Nira; Mike Havor; and the blind man’s personal guide, a teenage boy named Terry. While Mike couldn’t use his eyes, Terry was mute. He did not speak, simply held out his bent elbow so Mr. Havor could hold onto it.

There was something about Terry that gave Cindy the willies, but Mr. Havor was always so kind and gentle, she felt she did not have the right to question his guide. Plus Nira did not seem to mind the guy. Indeed, Nira had welcomed both of them on their
adventure
.

It had all started when Ali had removed the mark from Nira’s forehead, then flown away to only God knew where. Immediately, in a kind and yet powerful voice, Nira had told them they had to leave the hotel. She had pointed to Hector first.

“You have to return home and wait for Ali to come get you.”

“How do you know she’ll come for me?” Hector asked.

“She will.” Next Nira pointed to Mr. Warner. “What do you want?”

He stared at the child. “I think you know what I want.”

Nira nodded. “You want to see Amma.”

“That’s the name you use for my wife, right?”

“Yes. The soul is the same, the body is not.”

“Can you take me to her? Ali said it wasn’t possible. But . . .” He didn’t finish.

“We shall see.” Finally, Nira turned to Cindy. “You miss Steve.”

It was not a question, just a statement of fact. Cindy nodded.

“His body is at my house. He should be returned to his parents,” Nira said.

Cindy shook her head. “Ali checked out that place from top to bottom. She said he was not there.”

“He has always been there,” Nira replied confidently.

They drove back to Toule, dropped Hector off to await Ali’s call, and went over to Sheri Smith’s mansion. Cindy felt ill entering the place, but Nira held her hand and that helped. At first there was no sight of Steve, or the trapdoor that led to the caves where the witch had held her and Steve hostage.

Then Nira showed her power, or at least, her secret knowledge. All around the house were computer monitors that gave off a dull purple light. They had no keyboards in front, nor did they appear attached to any visible computers. But each had a black cable that ran from the rear of the monitors and into a wall.

Moving fast, Nira tore the cables from the walls.

The monitors went blank. Suddenly Steve’s body became visible, exactly where they had laid him on the living room sofa. The trapdoor also reappeared. At that point Cindy and Mr. Warner almost fainted. Nira took it all in stride. She told them to call the Toule police and have them pick up the body.

Before the police arrived, Mike Havor and Terry came to the door.

Cindy had heard nothing but good things about the blind
man from Ali. That made her comfortable with him—even though he worked for Sheri Smith. But his assistant, Terry, was a walking zombie. He wore a smelly hooded sweatshirt, torn blue jeans, and kept his head lowered—hiding his blond hair and blue eyes as much as possible. Like Mr. Havor, he was pale. In his defense, he was skilled at keeping Mr. Havor from bumping into stuff.

Quickly, Mr. Havor got to the point of his visit.

“My initial reason in coming here was to confront my boss about what she’s been up to. But since she’s not here, let me explain what I told Ali—plus a few things that I’ve just discovered. I’m blind, after all, there’s a limit to what I can do to stop this madness. But I’m hoping, if you can listen to me with an open mind, you’ll understand the danger we’re all in, and help take up my cause.”

“Our minds have been pretty blown open in the last two days,” Mr. Warner said. “Please, tell us whatever is on your mind. And by the way, my name is Jason Warner.”

“You are Ali’s father?” Mr. Havor asked, interested.

“Yes.”

Mr. Havor took a seat before beginning. “My employer, Ms. Sheri Smith, has purchased a nuclear bomb from a general in the Pentagon. I’ve shared this information with Ali, but so far, today, I’ve not heard back from her. But by hacking into Ms. Smith’s computer files, I’ve discovered that she’s having the bomb deposited on a spot high on the east side of Pete’s Peak. I’m in a quandary with what to do with this information. I tried bringing it to the attention of the local police but they treat me like I’m a lunatic. Then I called the FBI and Homeland Security. They acted like they checked on the matter, and then called me back and reassured me no nuclear bombs were missing. The way they said it—each agency—it was as if they
were trying to muffle a chuckle.” He added, “For some strange reason that I don’t understand, Ali seems to be the only one who has a clue what’s going on here.”

“My daughter is a pretty special girl,” Mr. Warner said.

Mr. Havor nodded. “I knew that the moment I met her. I
felt
it, somehow. But I just wish she would answer her phone.”

“Let’s try calling her on Hector’s cell right now,” Cindy said. “She’ll want to know what you just told us.”

Unfortunately, when they tried, Ali’s phone just rang and rang.

“I wonder why she’s not answering,” Ali’s father said, worried.

“Maybe she’s gone, you know, to another place,” Cindy stammered.

“She is not in the green world at this time,” Nira said confidently.

Hearing the child’s voice, Mike Havor did a double take.

“Who is that?” he demanded.

Nira did not respond. Cindy replied for her. “It’s Nira. She can talk now.”

Mike Havor shook his head. “Is this some kind of prank? Nira is autistic.”

“You’re hearing her voice,” Mr. Warner said. “It’s no prank.”

“But . . . it’s impossible!” Mr. Havor exclaimed. “At best, she can mumble.”

“Listen to her again. You’ll hear it’s the same voice, just clearer.” Cindy added, “Nira, say hello to Mr. Havor.”

“Hello, Mr. Havor. You know me, I know you,” Nira said.

Mr. Havor appeared unconvinced—who wouldn’t be? He had Cindy’s sympathy. It was hard—with no eyes—for him to argue his case. He asked if he could feel her face. Nira was happy to oblige. Studying her features with his fingertips reassured him a bit, but he was far from a believer. Yet he let it
go, for now. He was clearly more worried about nuclear holocaust.

“I hope you people don’t think I’m joking about this bomb,” he said, removing some papers from his coat pocket. “I printed out much of the information in Ms. Smith’s private files. You can study it if you like. My documentation is thorough.”

Mr. Warner took the papers, glanced at them. “How were you able—”

“I have voice-boxes on my own computers,” Mr. Havor interrupted. “But I kept my headphones on the whole time I worked on her files.”

“Did you fax these papers to the FBI or Homeland Security?” Mr. Warner asked.

“Yes. I don’t think they even read them.”

“Why not?” Mr. Warner asked, holding up the papers. “Your documentation looks genuine to me.”

Mr. Havor sighed. “One man, at Homeland Security, warned me that they get sixty crank calls a day about stolen nuclear bombs. They just have it so locked in their brains that no one can sneak onto an Air Force base and steal a bomb, they won’t consider the idea. And when I said no, my boss
bought
the bomb from a general at the Pentagon, then I lost the man altogether.” He paused, growing impatient. “Listen, that’s two hours of reading I just handed you. I can summarize the information if you like.”

“Please,” Mr. Warner said.

Briefly, Mr. Havor related his talk with Ali, explaining how a General Kabrosh at the Pentagon was receiving huge sums of money from Sheri Smith, and that this same man was in charge of the disposal of old nuclear weapons. When he was finished,
Mr. Warner insisted they had to give Homeland Security another try. Mr. Havor shook his head.

“We’ll get nowhere because all our accusations are based on General Kabrosh. And to these people, the man is a hero. In fact, he is a war hero. For combat bravery in Vietnam, he won the Congressional Medal of Honor. That’s the highest award possible for a soldier. They see the man as almost a god and we’re saying he’s a criminal.”

“Then what can we do?” Mr. Warner asked him.

“Mr. Warner . . .” Mr. Havor began.

“Call me Jason.”

Mr. Havor shook his head “Jason, I know from the outside I look useless. Without Terry’s help, I couldn’t walk a hundred yards into the woods. But I’ve let too much go on in that office that I should have spoken up about years ago. I’m going to hike up that mountain and find out what that woman’s up to—even if Terry’s the only one I’ve got with me.”

“I admire your courage,” Mr. Warner said. “But how far up the mountain was she planning to deposit the weapon?”

“From her files, it looks as if it was to be dropped near some kind of cave.”

“Which is located where?” Mr. Warner persisted.

“Near the top of the peak, I’m afraid to say.”

A light went off in Cindy’s head. “I wonder if it’s that same cave we took?”

“What cave is that?” Mr. Warner asked.

“You remember, Ali told you about it,” Cindy said.

Mr. Warner’s face changed. Of course, they were talking about the cave that led to the seven doors. And on the other side of one of those doors was his wife. The tension in the room jumped noticeably. Especially when Nira spoke up.

“I’ve explored all the caves that lead from beneath this house. One comes out near the central cave Ali and my mother are familiar with—high on the mountain.” Nira turned in Mr. Havor’s direction. “You’ll find the tunnel I’m talking about tall and wide. An easy hike.”

Mr. Havor shook his head. “You sound like Nira, but . . .”

“I am Nira,” the child replied.

“But Nira can’t talk!” he almost shouted.

“It’s Nira, please, just trust us,” Cindy pleaded.

Ali’s father knelt in front of the child. “Are you saying we should all go up the mountain? Is this the adventure you were talking about when you left Ali that note at the hotel?”

Nira nodded. “We have to leave soon.”

Mr. Warner went to ask, “Will I have a chance—”

Nira put a finger to his lips. “We will see. No promises.”

It was decided then. They were going up the mountain to find a nuclear bomb.

And Cindy had been worried it was going to be a slow day.

They gathered together a handful of water bottles, several daypacks—which they stuffed with snacks—and three flashlights, with extra batteries. At Nira’s insistence, they sneaked out the mansion via the trapdoor. The little girl wanted to make sure they were long gone before the police arrived for Steve.

The hike through the tunnel was long and uneventful.

Mr. Havor, however, kept trying to quiz Nira. He did not get far. The child did not mind his company, but did not want to share her secrets with him. Again, Cindy felt sympathy for the blind man. He acted like someone whose whole world had just been turned upside down—and for him, it was doubly worse, because he could not see the world.

When they finally exited the cave, into the woods, Cindy
realized they were not far from one of the spots she and her friends had camped at during their first expedition to the top of Pete’s Peak. Karl Tanner—that traitorous jerk—had called it “Overhang.”

The name was appropriate. With its large but narrow slice of rock jutting from the mountainside, it created a natural shelter from wind or rain. That was a concern, because in their rush to leave the mansion before the police arrived, they had packed no camping gear. Plus, even though it was well past dawn, the sky was cloudy and the air chilly.

They were all exhausted. Cindy led them straight to Overhang and asked if anyone else wanted to sleep for ten hours. It was agreed they should rest before continuing on.

“We can make a fire,” Mr. Warner suggested. “I brought a lighter, and there’s plenty of dry wood in the area. We can rest near the flames, recover our strength.” He glanced at Nira. “Unless you think that’s a bad idea?”

The child closed her eyes and stood motionless a moment.

Then she opened them and nodded. “There’s time,” she said.

Nira’s confidence and seemingly omniscient insight should have reassured Cindy. Yet it did not—not in a normal way. Cindy thought she understood why. For a while, she’d imagined she’d been taking care of the girl, when in reality Nira had probably been taking care of her.

Yet Steve had died on Nira’s watch.

Cindy saw that Nira was so far above them, that the everyday fears human beings felt did not touch her. In other words, she would probably accomplish what she set out to do, but she was not going to get upset if one—or even all of them—died in the process.

The child was from a dimension where death was an illusion.
However, standing on the side of the mountain, with her bizarre traveling troop nearby, Cindy felt death was more concrete and more close at hand than ever before.

What was Sheri Smith doing with a nuclear bomb?

Why wasn’t Ali answering her phone?

The answer to the second question was simple. Ali’s cell phone, the one she had borrowed from Hector, was not ringing. Maybe it had something to do with the crystal plug Nemi had told her to attach to it. Maybe there was another reason.

After Ali tied up General Kabrosh, she flew home to the West Coast, fed Officer Garten in the basement, and got back online in order to talk to Nemi. He hurt her feelings by telling her that he was kind of busy.

“Busy? The world might end today! How can you be busy?”

“Is it possible that’s the reason I’m busy?”

“I’m sorry, I know you’re working on the situation from your side.”

“True. What did Nancy Pillar and General Kabrosh have to say?”

“Nancy had a spell on her, but I removed it. I expect to hear from her today. But she was able to tell me that Lucy had visited a few times over the years. More important, I think, I found a number of paintings Lucy had done of seven mountains. They were each exquisite, created with great care. I recognized five: Pete’s Peak, Kilimanjaro, Fuji, Shasta, and Blanc in France. The other two . . .”