Aegis Rising (28 page)

“Any luck finding the source of the contamination?” Keno asked.

Rikèq shook his head. “None. It looks as if we will have to cross this river.” He pointed at the waters that flowed swiftly ahead of them.

“Splendid,” Breyas responded sarcastically through a mouthful of food. He looked at the mountain up ahead. Its peak was hidden by gray overhanging clouds. Slowly, he asked, “Do you remember the stories about the Ayen’et that we were told as children?”

Aydar chuckled. “You mean the tales of the mountain being alive and that at the top of its peak where it is often shrouded by clouds, an ‘all-seeing’ eye would spot disobeying youngsters and carry them away into the night to feed on them?”

“Yes.”

“Tsk. Those are tall tales to encourage children not to stay awake past their bedtime. I tried telling the stories to my nephew when he was younger.” With an amused snort, Aydar added, “Hutar did not believe them, though.”

“Of course they are tales. But I remember how my father used to describe the mountain to me when I was a young lad.” Breyas shuddered. “I suppose old feelings do not fade easily.”

“Did you find anything out of the norm as you followed the river you were tracking?” Keno asked the other two, wanting to change the subject.

Aydar and Rikèq shared looks, and Aydar smiled slightly. “Nothing much on the contamination.” He leaned forward. “But we
do
have a story for you.” He related their encounter with the mountain lions to a startled Breyas and Keno. He ended his tale with how a sole Guardian had gone out of its way to save them.

“Incredible,” Keno murmured.

“What of you?” Rikèq asked. “What did you come across?”

“More carcasses. Birds and fish were strewn here and there.” Breyas wrinkled his nose. “The stench of rotting flesh was awful.”

“We saw a doe and her calf, too,” Keno added. “Both were dead, unfortunately, and were being fed on by some birds. They were farther away from the river, but Breyas ran at the carcasses and scattered the birds. He claims that he was just trying to keep them from falling ill, but I saw the childlike streak as he dashed at them.”

Breyas grinned. “I was simply gathering a little bit of joy for myself. My mother always told me that we should come to the aid of others with a happy heart.”

The quartet chuckled and finished off the rest of their meals, then did a quick check of their supplies to see if they all had enough food and water. Once they were satisfied that everything was set to go, they walked over to where the two rivers became one. “The currents are strong here,” Rikèq noted, frowning. “We are going to need our boats.”

The men shook off their journey packs. The specially treated, fin-shaped moose-hide was designed to be used as a kayak once unfolded, or a one-person tent when completely extended. Sturdy, retractable wooden frames were anchored to one side of the pack and could latch on to the other side once folded out. It was an ingenious device designed by Magèo many decades ago when he still had a liking for the outdoors.

Once the men were ready, they carried their kayaks to the edge of the water. “Be careful,” Rikèq warned. “We do not know if the poisoning occurs solely through consumption, or if it is also through contact. We should avoid the water at all cost.”

The others nodded. Pushing their kayaks halfway into the water, they carefully climbed in and used their paddles to push off from the shore. Almost immediately the current tried to drag them downstream, but the men were strong and paddled forward, fighting the flow furiously.

“We are almost there!” Rikèq shouted.

The bank on the other side was just a few yards away. Aydar brought up the rear of their little line and paddled after the other three. Suddenly, a trough opened under his boat and tilted him violently to one side, nearly causing him to capsize. He frantically shifted his weight and, after what felt like an eternity, managed to balance out his kayak. He gripped his paddle until his knuckles turned white, relieved that he had not fallen into the water. Once he’d relaxed enough, he paddled to the shore where his friends helped him out.

“Are you alright?” Rikèq asked, being careful to not touch the wet parts of the moose-hide as he pulled Aydar’s kayak onto land to dry with the others.

“I am alright.” Aydar sat down on the grass with Breyas and Keno and rubbed his face. The men only had to wait a couple of minutes for their kayaks to dry before folding them back up into their journey packs; the hide was treated and waxed so that moisture never clung onto it for long.

Breyas crouched by the water and tested it for contamination. Keno peeked over. “Well?” he asked.

Shaking his head, Breyas stood up. “It is still contaminated.” He looked apprehensively up toward the mountain. “It appears we will have to continue trekking toward the Ayen Range.”

“That should take around half a day.” Aydar took a few sips from his water pelt. “Shall we get moving?”

The men quickly followed the river, noting a couple of birds on the ground. Though they were now relatively used to the sight of dead creatures, it still unnerved them to think that there was something in the water stealing away the very life force of living, breathing beings.

The group conversed amongst themselves, sharing stories and laughing, attempting to ignore the mountain range as it steadily grew larger in their field of view. One peak stood out ominously from the rest. While it appeared to be part of the chain, it was actually a solitary mountain that stood a mile in front of the range. It was the Ayen’et mountain, for which the range was named.

During a lull in the conversation, Breyas said in a low, fretful voice, “With any luck, we will find the source soon.” He pointed at the towering peak. “It seems like the closer we are to the mountain, the gloomier the forest gets.”

Rikèq glanced around them. “That did not occur to me until you brought it up.”

“I have never been so close to the Ayen’et,” Keno murmured, eyes stretched wide.

Suddenly, Breyas’ ears picked up a distant, deep reverberating sound that carried on for several seconds. He halted as the noise died away. “Did you hear that?” he muttered.

“Hear what?” Rikèq asked.

“That sound . . . like distant thunder.”

The men stood still, waiting to hear the noise again, but it did not return and they continued walking, in utter silence this time. They took note of how accurate Breyas’ observations were: The forest did seem gloomier the closer they got to the mountains.

A raven shot out from a tree and swooped overhead, cawing, making the men twitch. Not long after, the rumbling noise returned. The men halted again. As the sound died away once more, Keno looked at Breyas. “We most definitely heard that.”

“What do you suppose that noise is?” Aydar asked quietly.

Breyas fidgeted. “It does not sound like any animal I am familiar with.”

The quartet continued walking for the next hour. As they were preparing to do another test of the waters, the rumbling noise returned, louder now. The men slowly looked up at the mountain.

“It sounds like the noise is coming from there,” Rikèq whispered. The men stood still, less than eager to continue their trek, but they knew it had to be done. Aydar took the lead, and the group reached the base of the mountain as the sun was beginning its descent beyond the low-hanging clouds, out of the men’s sight. The rumbling noise had been continuing on and off since the last time they’d heard it, and as they neared the foot of the mountain, it got loud enough that the four men almost felt it as much as they heard it.

The group followed the river until they saw a cave where the water emerged a quarter of the way up the mountain. After a half-hour hike they reached the mouth of the cavern and peered inside. Aydar quickly took out a portable lamp and lit it, then led the way in. Inside the dark, wet cave were two narrow banks on either side of the river. In here, whenever the noise came back, the men could clearly feel vibrations all around them.

“Something is happening here,” Keno murmured. “Breyas, could you check the water, please?”

Breyas crouched by the rapidly-flowing river and carefully retrieved a sample. After a few moments, he announced, “Still contaminated.”

The rumbling and vibrations came back, nearly causing Breyas to lose his balance and tip over into the water. He held on to a rock embedded in the dirt and waited until the vibrations and sound faded, then got to his feet and quickly moved away from the river.

Aydar shone his lamp ahead. “The cave turns here, my friends.” He looked back at the others. “Shall we continue on?”

Although it was obvious that he was not eager to continue this quest, Rikèq was firm. “Turning back now is not an option.”

Aydar nodded and turned the corner, disappearing from sight. Rikèq and Keno trailed after him. Breyas looked over his shoulder at the mouth of the cave. He caught sight of the last bit of light outside, then turned to follow the others and allowed the darkness to envelop them.

PART THREE

32

T
he view from the large, frameless glass window where Adrian Black stood was astounding. The beautiful blue waters of the bay were dotted with countless sailing boats catching the breeze on this picture-perfect morning. To the west, on the iconic Golden Gate Bridge, traffic was busy as usual for a weekday morning. Parts of the waterfront belonging to the small artsy city of Sausalito peeked out at Black. Not a man of the arts, he turned his head away from the city, uninterested. Toward the north, the bay’s waves were breaking onto Alcatraz Island where tourists armed with cameras eagerly explored the site that once held many infamous prisoners.

Black turned away from the window to look back into the boardroom. Captivating as the view outside was, his mind was burdened with an urgent business matter that, if left unresolved, might cost him more than his job.

The boardroom was on the highest floor of a nondescript forty-story building, owned by a well-funded establishment with a global reach called Phoenix Corp. The gray-colored tower blended in with the other high-rise buildings in downtown San Francisco. Fondly referred to as “Tower 51” by its inhabitants—a joke spun from the military base in New Mexico due to the secrets that lurked in the corporate corridors—it served as the company’s head office, and its unremarkable appearance deceived many about what lay within.

Black scanned the empty chairs in the boardroom, waiting impatiently for his associates to arrive even though he arrived early by choice. The boardroom was extravagantly fitted out. A deep-red oval mahogany table surrounded by twelve luxurious black leather chairs served as an impressive centerpiece. At the end of the table farthest from the windows, a chair was missing. In its place was a large silver screen mounted onto a curved wall. Though visually impressive, what escaped the eye was even more remarkable. Cleverly designed and neatly tucked into the structures of the room was a plethora of high-tech devices, including a satellite-linked communication system that connected the company’s entire global operations; a multi-projector holographic conferencing platform, and state-of-the-art touchscreen computers concealed inside the polished conference table for each person seated. Behind the curved wall was a well-appointed lounge with an exquisite and fully serviced bar where the executives could unwind after a hard day’s work.

As the chief executive of Phoenix Corp., Black was responsible for running a diverse corporation with subsidiaries engaged in industries such as mining, armaments, biotech, and construction across the globe. Discreetly, the company also made substantial contributions to selected social organizations, media groups and politicians. The broad scope of the business kept him on his toes and he enjoyed the challenge. He was, however, beginning to feel the stress from one crucial project where things were not moving at the pace that was expected of him.

He was deep in thought and did not hear the footsteps on the plush carpet as one of his colleagues walked into the boardroom. Jerry Li, a short, tubby man who always wore a bowtie with his suits was the chief financial officer for the corporation. His black hair was gelled back and his Asian eyes, gleaming with mischief, were framed by large, thick-rimmed glasses. He tiptoed over to Black and startled the six-foot-two CEO with his high-pitched, “
Good morning!”

Black spun around. “Li! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Li grinned. “I try, but it never seems to work.”

Black shook his head and readjusted his tie. “Still trying to grab my job?” he jested. “I’ve never met a senior executive, especially a financial wizard, who is so doggone cheerful all the time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? The higher up the ladder I am, the more of a stick in the mud I have to be?”

“It means,” a raspy voice cut in, “that you are quite a unique fellow.”

The two men turned to look at the newcomer. Dr. Albert Bertram, the chief science officer of Phoenix Corp., came strolling into the boardroom with a thermos of hot coffee in his hand. He was a rather plump man in his early sixties, though it was apparent that in his younger days he had been quite handsome. With a full head of silver hair and bright blue eyes, he could have passed for Santa Claus if only he had the red hat and suit to put on.