Thera (16 page)

The Watcher did not respond when he tried to activate it. After the last search, he parked the drone in a clearing close to the lake, and it should have received enough light to recharge. Now, when he needed it again, he received nothing. No data and no video. It appeared something had happened, and the surveillance device was no longer functional. They would be completing the journey without its help.

Al powered up when the trek into the forest began. The tell-tale in his enhanced vision had fallen to fifty percent, forcing him to be practical and stay in normal mode unless absolutely necessary. There was no replacement for the power pack in his chest. When his energy was exhausted—so was he.

Pulling the sled required him to be in enhanced mode, but it required little effort and had minimal effect on his power reserves. Chris and Kira walked behind him, gawking at their surroundings.

They started out well, and made good time, but as they walked through the field of colorful moss, Kira started yawning. Chris saw her struggling and realized he too was having trouble staying awake. Al heard their chatter slow down and then stop behind him. When he turned to instruct them to catch up, he saw them collapsing to the ground, curling up, and going to sleep. He nudged them and called their names, but they would not wake. They were breathing and appeared fine, but slept as if drugged.

He looked around to determine the reason for this unusual behavior and remembered the strong smell of flowers. When he bent down for a closer inspection, he discovered the smell emanated from the little red blooms. The fragrant flowers populating the blue-green moss caused even him to feel a wave of fatigue, as the filters protecting his air intakes became overwhelmed. He quickly stood up.

An old story from Earth spoke of deadly poppy fields that caused living animals to sleep but not their companions made of straw or steel. In this case, a good witch was not going to make it snow and save them. Their rescue was up to him.

I have to get them away from the moss
, he thought.

It was getting dark, and soon it would become much darker. The canopy above would block the starlight.

Rather than make multiple trips, he put a teammate on each shoulder and began running. The moss was thick, and his feet sank with each step impeding his progress. A half mile from where they fell, the sleep-inducing growth thinned out. When the moss stopped, vines, bushes, and small trees found a place to flourish. The vast open space before him became thick with brush.

Creeping vines used the giant tree trunks for support, which in turn provided a foundation for other plants. It amazed Al how fast it changed. Within a few hundred feet from the end of the moss, he was following a narrow path. The dirt passage led to a circular patch of pale green grass, where he laid his companions down to recover. Chris began to stir, and not long after Kira showed signs of awakening. He provided them with a lantern and gave them time to recoup before he left to retrieve the sled. The forest was getting very dark, and he wanted them to be fully awake before he left.

His night vision provided him with a ghostly green image of the path before him. He put on the harness and pulled the cargo to where he left Chris and Kira. As soon as he approached his friends, his weight, and the added weight of the sled caused the little patch of grass to give way, and they fell through the ground into darkness.

Al was the only one to land on his feet. When the bottom fell out from under them, he was standing, and the patch of grass along with the branches that supported it broke his fall. Chris and Kira were sitting up, and not as lucky. Chris landed on top of Kira and knocked the wind from her lungs. While she gasped for breath, Al’s eyes readjusted to a circle of light from flaming torches.

A group of short creatures with long hair covering their unclothed bodies surrounded them. They stood on two legs with a blazing stick in one hand and a club in the other. These creatures saw what had fallen into their trap, and backed up; surprised by the animals they captured. Caught off guard; their confidence turned to fear.

The three explorers faced their captors and waited, while the wary creatures slowly circled Al’s group, trying to make sense of the captured animals before them.

Their hair was mostly white, while their skin was black, and none of them were taller than four feet. They did not use words but grunted a form of communication only they understood. The largest one appeared older and appeared to be the leader. This individual was motioning for his peers to stay back and grunted with authority for emphasis.

The explorers had fallen into an underground chamber, with a ceiling of twisted roots held up by columns of intertwined branches disappearing into the ground below. Outside the circle of torchlight was total darkness.

Chris hesitantly stood, favoring his right leg, and slipped his pistol from its holster. Al grabbed his hand. “Hold on Chris. Let’s see where this goes.”

Kira’s breathing slowed, her eyes locked on their aggressors. Al turned to her and asked, “Are you okay?”

“I am all right Mister Clark.”

“How about you Chris?”

“I think I might have sprained my foot.”

“Can you walk?”

“I think so, but I don’t believe I’ll be running.”

“There is nowhere to run Chris.”

In the closeness of the underground chamber, sounds were amplified, and in Al’s enhanced state, the motors moving his body could be heard. Their captors picked up on this and were puzzled by the sounds. They shuffled back a little more each time he moved.

The leader made a quick assessment and grunted his decision. When he first met the Avalonians they fell to the ground, as the Therans did when they first encountered Darius and Dusty. Now the leader of this new group did the same; directing the other six members of his troupe to follow his example.

“Here we go again,” complained Al. “Why are we always mistaken for gods. Do I look like a god to you?”

Out of nowhere, for the very first time, Falkor roared. He appeared from thin air at the edge of the hole and peered at the scene below him with disapproval. The young dragon was finding his voice, and in the confines of the underground cavern, the sound of his discontent was alarming.

The leader grabbed his torch, jumped to his feet and ran—his companions following closely behind. In seconds the expedition from Atlantis was left alone, in a dark cavern of spiraling wooden columns, with only the light of the lantern that followed them down.

“That was probably the worst case of first contact I have ever heard of,” commented Chris.

Kira laughed. “I thought the first time I met Mister Clark was confusing. This meeting is a story I will be telling until my dying day.”

“Well,” said Al, “That was interesting. Thank you Falkor, for getting us out of that without anyone getting hurt.”

The dragon snorted and stomped his foot. He thought they should be moving, and not wasting time with so much talking.

“Were we just accosted by monkeys?” asked Chris.

Al’s reply was thoughtful, “I think they are more than monkeys, they are smart enough to construct this trap, and have learned to use fire. I’m not sure where this confrontation was heading, but I am sure glad Falkor broke it up.”

Kira asked, “How are you Mister Clark? Are you all right?”

“I’m okay, Kira. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes. I am much better now.”

Al pulled his flashlight from a pocket and looked around. The white remains of small animals scattered around the interior lit up when the beam hit them. It appeared this trap had been used many times before. He asked, “Anyone want to go wandering around down here to find a way out? Or should we use the grappling hook and climb out?”

“I vote for climbing out,” Chris volunteered.

Kira was quick to agree.

In Al’s present state, it wasn’t much of a problem for him to toss the hook over the lip of the hole above them and climb out. Chris put on the harness, and Al lifted him out. Kira tied the boxes to the line, and one by one Al lifted them to the surface. When the boxes and cart were above ground, Chris tossed the harness down for her to put on and he hauled up the last of his team.

They walked for half an hour in the darkness, the path they followed getting consistently more overgrown and the sled harder to pull. Chris was limping and Al suggested he ride on the crates, but the young man declined. “I think it’s all right. It doesn’t hurt much.”

Al found a clearing that would allow them to set up the tent with a thirty-foot tree trunk at their backs and they made camp. He reluctantly powered down. The power indicator in his vision a constant reminder of his mortality. One stood guard while the other two caught up on the sleep they desperately needed. Al insisted he was not tired and took the watch.

Before retiring, they called the island and gave their report to the captain. Elizabeth was listening, and after hearing about their troubles grew concerned. “Does that mean you were enhanced almost the whole time?”

“Umm—yeah, pretty much.”

“What does your power meter read?”

“Well, you see it depends on how you look—.”

“Don’t try and make excuses. Tell me.”

“When I returned to normal, a little while ago, it read twenty-five percent.”

The radio went silent for a moment, and Al pictured the look on her face. Anger, frustration, and worry all rolled up together.

He tried consoling her, “Traveling is getting easier, and the sled is easy to pull. I will be all right.”

“How much further do you have to go?”

“According to my data pad, we should be there sometime the day after tomorrow.”

“Please try to be more careful,” she advised. “You will do nobody any good if you allow yourself to run out of power.”

“Yes ma’am, I’ll try.”

The morning crept up on them, taking its sweet time, the light from above dimmed by the thick canopy. At a point where they could see without tripping, Al woke his companions. “Time to go scouts. Times a wasting.”

Chris rolled over and moaned. “Somebody stop that truck that hit me—I want to talk to the driver.”

His ankle was throbbing, and the skin above his boot was red and swollen. “I kind of think that, maybe, I should not have been walking on that ankle.”

Al looked at the swollen leg above the boot and gave him a puzzled look. “You think?”

To lighten the mood, Kira said, “I think I see an advantage in having metal legs.”

“I told you there were advantages,” replied Chris.

Al was impatient. They were close to their objective and he wanted to get moving. “I don’t think it’s broken, but it’s going to be sore for a while. You can ride on the cart. But first, we need to get that boot off and get it wrapped. There is an anti-inflammatory in the medical kit you should take, and we should eat something. Then we’ll get moving.”

They crossed a creek that led in the direction they wanted and followed it upstream. There was a path following the water that Al assumed was maintained by the local wildlife, and hoped would lead them to the lake featured in the Watcher’s surveillance footage. Occasionally Al would spot a humanoid print in the mud by the bank of the bubbling water. Smaller than normal, these feet had four toes.

The jungle gradually thinned out, and the heights of the trees came down, the associated tree trunks getting closer to normal size. The path beside the meandering stream proved to be almost level, and smooth, allowing Al to minimize his power usage. He could not manage the cart with Chris on top while in normal mode, so they proceeded with him in the enhanced state.

Fish swam in the stream. Ordinary looking fish that collected in the shallows and played in the weeds. The group did not drink the water straight from the creek, unsure if it was safe, but they had a filter that could remove most contaminants. They refilled their canteens with the filtered water.

Chris kept eyeing the fish, thinking how good they would taste cooked over a fire. The fish needed proper testing before they could be eaten, but the thought still made his mouth water. They ate their energy bars and kept moving.

The woods changed to open meadows on both sides, with trees lining the banks of the thickening stream. By sunset, they were three miles from their goal, and they made camp for what they hoped would be the last night on the trail.

Falkor checked on them from time to time throughout the journey, sometimes walking with them for short distances. For the most part, he stayed in the air; flying slow circles overhead. He surprised them that night when he showed up holding a fish from the stream in his claws and placing it before Al making it clear the fish was for them.

“You brought us a fish,” said Al. “Thank you Falkor. If it is good enough for you, I guess it’s good enough for us.”

The dragon was pleased. Whether by the words Al spoke, or the tone of his voice, it was hard to tell, but the lizard with wings definitely approved.