Authors: Rafael
Everyone
sat up in their seats, eager to hear Miranda’s account of her time in the cave.
They had indulged in one of Chatur’s sumptuous meals and a story harkened to a
time when electronics had yet to learn entertainment. Everyone sipped tea,
coffee, or cognac but the Russian physicist, unafraid of stereotypes, opted for
vodka. Chatur, accepting their compliments and praise with unusual modesty, sat
next to Miranda.
“I
stood as close to it as I am to any of you. I saw its feathers ruffle, its
wings unfold. I saw its four-fingered hands grasp and clench. I saw it tear raw
strips off a cow and swallow them whole. And like any bird caring for a chick,
it regurgitated a green and yellow slime for my consumption. I smelled it and heard
it speak its own tongue. Its name is Kreetor and there can be no question it is
a sentient being from another world.”
Whatever
they might have theorized and believed, her compelling witness to an
extraterrestrial presence silenced the room. Each tried to comprehend and
failed at the staggering reality.
“And
when I thought its behavior comparable to some wild animal, it reached inside
what I thought a marsupial pouch on its abdomen and removed a perfect sphere
about the size of a tennis ball. It had a silver, reflective surface and it
floated and moved through the air with no sound or apparent power source. It
glowed in different colors depending on function but orange primarily. I saw it
once glow lavender as it healed Kreetor’s open wounds before my very eyes. It
refers to itself as a Seer and once told me it contained all of Earth’s digital
data. I believe it is the mechanism Kreetor uses to open and close what it
refers to as ‘gates’.”
Like
reporters before a newsmaker, everyone tried to ask a question before
self-consciously deferring to Professor Akiyama. “Did it say why it is here?”
“To
destroy the gate and everyone connected to it. When I asked what a gate was it
responded, ‘That through which one enters or exits.’”
The
Israeli leaped to his feet. “Of course.” He paced about the room muttering.
“God in heaven. God in heaven.” He regained his seat and sat back with a blank
stare. “Dear God in heaven. It’s not an energy source. It’s a wormhole device.”
The
Russian stood and paced in turn. “Ariel is right. It explains everything.”
“That’s
not possible.” the Argentinean demurred.
“The
alien has clearly shown it is not. While it is true that creating a wormhole in
the macro world is centuries, perhaps millennia beyond our present technology,
Dr. Ang discovered a way to have the quantum world create a natural one.”
“God
in heaven.” All eyes turned to the Israeli. “Space ships exist only in our
imaginations. They are an extension of an earth-bound paradigm in which we
travel point-to-point aboard conveyances. Beyond Earth orbit, even at the speed
of light, the distances are too vast for space ship travel. Out among the
galaxies, travel must occur via wormholes. They can bring an infinite universe
to our very doorstep.”
“Say
that again.” the Argentinean broke in.
“They
can bring an infinite universe to our very doorstep.” The biologist folded her
hands prayer style and pressed them to her lips. Everyone waited.
“Ladies
and gentlemen. I believe we have arrived at a dangerous moment in human
history. We now have irrefutable evidence another intelligent life form exists.
If one exists, a thousand exist, a million exist. And we now have the means to
bring them to our doorstep. If our history is any judge, we as a species may
not survive the encounter.”
“Indeed.”
the Russian responded. “The first one here is on a killing spree. And it’s only
one. Any idea why, Miranda?”
“I
did ask it why. The Seer, speaking for Kreetor said, ‘The Gate is dangerous to
Sorke.’ I believe Sorke is the name of its planet. But let me remind everyone.
It is an alien. It thinks nothing like us and has none of our context or
assumptions.”
“Can
you think of a reason why it has not attacked?” Janesh asked.
“This
is a part I find confusing. Kreetor frequently made reference to Air Givers and
the Unwinged. At every opportunity it asked me if Duncan and Ronan are the
Unwinged. While I won’t say it fears the dogs, it doesn’t understand them and
therefore hesitates. I told him the dogs are the Unwinged. That seemed to
convey some level of status on them or at least sentient intelligence. I’m sure
it won’t take the Seer long to figure out they’re just pets. Maybe on Sorke
they have nothing analogous.”
“I
think you’re right.” Janesh agreed. “The dogs are not fooled by its ability to
project a false image. Duncan and Ronan may have spooked it when they went
after the creature itself.”
“By
the way, it’s a she. Her title is Warrior Priestess to the High Council, Grand
Dominant of the Winged.” The room again fell silent.
“The
title alone raises a thousand questions.” the Russian said.
“It
implies class divisions, religious sects, martial castes, cultural, social,
political organization.” Miranda added.
“Religious
sects.” the Russian continued. “What must its concept of God be? What would it
think of Hindus, Christians, Jews, and Muslims?”
“Rank,
privilege, and status.” threw in the Israeli. “I cannot even begin to imagine
what a Sorken population center looks like. Would they have cities?”
“We
have the means to find out.” said the Russian. “It’s lying on the floor above a
textile factory.”
“That’s
exactly what Kreetor wants to prevent.” Miranda reminded.
“It
seems to me we have a decision to make.” Chatur joined in. “Do we assemble the
device or not?”
“We
should vote on it.” the Argentinean suggested. “But not in haste. Let’s sleep
on it. Tomorrow morning after breakfast and whatever further discussion, we can
take a vote.”
“We
seven should make a decision for the entire human race?” the Israeli asked.
“No.”
Gary said. “No vote. That implies a decision not to assemble it. We are
scientists. Our duty must always be to discovery and truth. We humans and our
birth planet may be in danger but turning our back on our highest ideals is no
answer. Choose to help or not but we cannot be a party to deliberate ignorance
or cowed by fear.”
“I
agree.” said Janesh. “We became a species born of decision when we first stood
and gazed at the stars. No one took a vote when we marched out of Africa to the
next horizon. And fear did not stop us. Nor when they said our wooden ships would
sail off the Earth’s edge. Nor when our planes shattered as they approached the
sound barrier. No one took a vote. Courage led the way. Let us be true to
humanity’s heritage. In considering our future course, fear and intimidation
must play no role.”
“None
of those actions had extinction as a consequence.” the Argentinean replied.
“Our
very existence threatens it every day.” Janesh responded. “Tomorrow a viral
pandemic could wipe us out. The day after an asteroid could send us to join the
dinosaurs. Next week madness could reduce us to wind-blown ash in a nuclear
holocaust. Ecological collapse could clear the way for a new species. At this
very moment a tiny satellite sails across the intergalactic void with specific
directions to Earth. History makes clear what horrors follow when we do not
stand up to fear and intimidation.” The Israeli sprang from his chair.
“I
do not need to wait until tomorrow. I am with you.” The Russian stood up.
“I
stand with my friend and the human race. We must assemble it.” Professor
Akiyama rose.
“If
the Sorkens are coming, we will need this device.” Miranda and Chatur followed.
Janesh
looked into their eyes seeking foolish pride. He saw only grim determination.
He rose. “I stand with you.” Duncan and Ronan trotted over to investigate.
Everyone turned to the Argentinean. Doubt and hesitation etched her face.
“I
fear what may result of our actions. I fear more if we do not face it united.”
She rose to join her colleagues.
No
one celebrated or cheered. They hugged, shook hands, grasped arms, patted
backs. With no guarantee of success, responsibility weighed heavy on their
shoulders. Since their dawn, humans had found safety behind trackless wastes,
dense forests, wide rivers, high mountains, vast oceans. Now the sky had
betrayed them. Whenever they gazed on cloudless blue or twinkling stars the
galactic void would look back with menace and threat.
*
* *
“Dr.
Logan. What a tremendous surprise. How are you?”
“Living
an adventure, Dr. Bell. And yourself?”
“Nothing
quite so glamorous. Are you in Washington?”
“India
actually.”
“My,
that is an adventure. I must thank you again. You made me quite the heroine
with zoology. They still buzz about your visit. What can I do for you, Dr.
Logan?”
“I’m
calling about the Ang case.”
“Oh
my gosh. I’m so sorry. I heard about agents Dawkins and Cross.”
“It
is a tragedy. I and others are working to solve their deaths. That’s why I hope
you can help us.”
“Whatever
I can do, Dr. Logan.”
“Have
you found any technical manuals or documentation Dr. Ang may have produced in
conjunction with his work? Any notes or papers?”
“My
instinct is to say no, Dr. Logan, but I also haven’t been directly involved in
the case since turning it over to our internal investigators. They in turn have
subcontractors perform the actual investigation. Hold on, I might have a name.
Here it is, a Josh Timson.” The name meant nothing to Miranda. “I’d be happy to
inquire if he has uncovered anything new. If he has I will certainly let you
know. We’d like to close this case too and hopefully reimburse the good
taxpayers.”
“Well,
I had to try. Thanks for taking my call. It was very generous of you.”
“Oh
not all, Dr. Logan. I am always available to you. I will call you if I learn
anything and if you’re in Washington I’ll treat you to lunch.”
“I’ll
look forward to it, Dr. Bell. Goodbye.”
Miranda
turned to Janesh. “Well, that was a dead end. No help there.”
“I
didn’t expect much to come of it.”
An angry three-inch, cross-stitched line filled the hand mirror.
The plastic surgeon had assured him with time only someone inches away might
see a scar. Nicholas frowned. The ugly thing on his forehead gave no hint of
it. He cast the mirror aside, a low-level dread once again re-knotting his
bowels. For the thousandth time he wondered why the damnable McKenzie had let
him live. Psychological warfare? That the Mahān Śikārī
would choose the time and place to leave him a white-eyed corpse drenched in
blood? Damn him, Nicholas thought.
Having bypassed customs and immigration, Koh lazed 237 miles south
of Chandrapur in India’s medieval “City of Pearls”, Hyderabad. His rented
estate, nestled between two national parks, justified its $17,000 daily rent by
the privacy and security it afforded. The late October sun produced enough heat
to keep the four beauties lounging alongside topless. He’d already sampled the
delicate favors of two and eyed the third. She brazenly stared back.
Behind him a gate rolled open, footsteps padded across the
landscaped garden, a white-jacketed staffer stopped before him. “Your 2pm is
here, sir. He’s in the parlor.”
Jithu
Ong ha
d been masterful in getting him to a doctor who
asked no questions and clearing the mess at the research facility. Nicholas now
had every confidence in him and conferring together had priority. Even over
sex.
Donning robe and slippers, he followed the staffer to the gate and
through glass doors that whooshed open into the cool parlor. Nicholas motioned
for him to stay seated. “Something to drink?” A head shake confirmed the man’s
austerity extended even to water. Koh matched it and motioned for Ong to wait
until the staffer exited.
“Josh Timson has made contact. A CIA operative, Tilka Lon, is en
route to
meet
with Janesh McKenzie. He will try to make a deal in which they’ll mutually cooperate
to solve Dr. Ang’s project although the CIA feels it has legal ownership of it.
He’ll also offer the services of a strike force to provide project security as
inducement. Secondly, Janesh McKenzie has assembled a science team to examine
the project but they are hampered by a lack of technical documentation. Third,
Mr. Timson expects payment.”
Nicholas crossed his legs and sat back to absorb the information.
Astronomers had a catalogue of over 17 million planets orbiting their sun’s
habitable zone with confirmed oxygen atmospheres. Spectral analysis of their
reflected light would identify the specific world’s that contained the natural
resources essential to Earth’s industries. Ore, wood, gold, oil, silver, coal,
water, and every element on the periodic table would travel through pipes or
conveyor belts that terminated in a wormhole and into a processing facility.
Thereafter, all manufacturing would gradually move off-planet.
Except for power generators and service companies, Earth would transform to a
residential planet. Every one of the off-planet manufacturing sites would
become proto-colonies seeding humanity’s expansion into the galaxy. He would
collect a fee for everything that moved through a wormhole and establish the
most powerful dynasty in human history.
By the time the CIA gained standing in a Singapore court to claim
legal ownership, he’d turn over useless junk after duplicating the machinery.
If America or any other world power moved to expropriate the device, he’d play
one off against the other. The threat of granting one nation, Russia for
example, exclusive use rights, would confer such a decisive strategic
advantage, the others would have to desist. Josh Timson’s $5 million pittance
proved no one had the slightest idea what they sought. Powerful forces hurtled
toward each other. When the collision occurred, he had to be the one left
standing.
“Tell Timson we need to know when and where this Tilka Lon will
arrive. Put the very best men you have to track him. He’ll lead us to McKenzie.
Give me your mobile.” Nicholas punched in a dial code and returned it. “Save
the code and tomorrow at noon call it. Tell the person who answers to activate
his team and return the call when they’re assembled. Their assignment will be
to terminate the operative and the strike force. They are not to touch or
interfere with McKenzie. He’ll panic and lead us right to the project and the
science team.
Pay Timson his money. Tell him I’m impressed with the information.
If it continues there’ll be a bonus. Any questions?”
“None at all, sir.”
* * *
Across the eons, tiny marine organisms building their coral reef
homes atop mountains, breached the Indian Ocean and became the Maldives. They
formed a north/south, 500-mile, double-stranded archipelago astride ancient
trade routes first plied by 12-century Arabs. The long-departed desert Semites
left behind their religion and lush, tropical atolls that became the
playgrounds of Asia’s wealthiest. Smugglers and pirates took over the abandoned
sea lanes that terminated among the more than 1,000 uninhabited islands. The
idle rich allowed the Maldivians to build the facades modern civilization
required. Black marketing allowed them to eat.
“Umm, these are delicious.” Reflected sunlight made the
crystalline waters sparkle. Tilka Lon reached for another masroshi. ‘What are
they made of?” Janesh remained fixed on the distant atoll looming larger.
He found it no surprise the operative had asked to meet on Malé,
the Maldivian capitol. With Africa and the Arabian Peninsula to the west, India
and Pakistan to the north, and Australia to the east, the remote islands had
become a hotbed for area agents to exchange intelligence, data and rumors. He
himself had often arrived here carrying large cash sums to purchase rare
jewelry and priceless art objects for private collectors but had always viewed
the clandestine world with skepticism and distrust. “Smoked Yellowfin tuna with
lemon juice and coconut flakes baked inside a flattened dough. It’s a local
favorite.”
They sailed aboard a dhoni, an ugly, ungainly craft that resembled
a brown box jammed between a prow and a stern. Its diesel engines chugged
against the strong currents, synchronized to the slow passage of Maldivian
time. But once the craft slipped from the open water to a quiet lagoon, its
deft agility allowed passage along narrow sea channels into island interiors.
Anchored amid lush, tropical flora the dhoni shined. Its luxurious,
well-appointed accommodations provided every convenience for couples or small
groups visiting an Eden-like paradise. In the Maldives, vacationers provided
perfect camouflage.
“I saw in your dossier you hunt tigers with a spear. Is that
true?” Janesh turned from the dining room’s large view window to face Tilka
Lon. The agent sitting across the table had tried to frame him for murder. From
Malé’s arrival gate to here the clandestine shadow had presented a friendly,
approachable face. Had missed no opportunity to gain Janesh’s confidence. But
the operative relishing masroshi snacks personified deceit, deception, and
dishonesty. His kind used every imaginable form of treachery and betrayal to
accomplish their ends. How could he engage in even a simple conversation with
this man? When did the lies begin and did they ever end?
“No. The stories are wildly exaggerated. Perpetuated by simple
villagers enamored of their myths and legends.” Deception’s blade had a double
edge. If their future brought them face-to-face, Tilka Lon would be unprepared
for the Mahān Śikārī.
“Mr. McKenzie, I’m aware our first encounter might have been an
unfortunate one. Let me then be the first to offer concessions and be frank.
The CIA sponsored and financed the project Dr. Ang developed. We hold legal
title to his work.”
“For the record, Agent Lon, I had access to Dr. Sara Brown’s case
files. Your agency’s need for secrecy may have hamstrung their position. Your
contract is with the National Science Foundation. The NSF hired Dr. Ang to
develop a quantum encryption device and has legal title to all related work.
Unfortunately, Dr. Ang never developed an encryption device. But since I
suspect you like I have no desire to be a lawyer, let’s leave the legalisms
aside.”
“As I said, Mr. McKenzie, let me be the first to offer a
concession. In return for dropping any legal pursuit we want full access to the
device as well as an examination of all notes and papers regarding the
underlying technology.”
“And the reason I should agree, is?” Annoyance flashed across
Tilka’s face before it disappeared behind a steely gaze.
“It’s the reason I brought you out here, Mr. McKenzie. We are
aware you have enemies who would like nothing better than to relieve you of any
further involvement in this case. We can provide security. I have a team
ensconced on an island. When you see them I’m sure you’ll agree they can insure
our mutual goals.”
Janesh reached for the last masroshi, savored the delicate blend
of island spices. He had no intention of letting a CIA security team anywhere
near the project. At gunpoint they’d be happy to engage in their own relief
party. Still, it would be wise to see first-hand the threat level they posed.
“Well then, Agent Lon. Let’s have a look at this security team of yours.” Tilka
glanced at his watch.
“We have a good half hour yet. Do you fish, Mr. McKenzie?”
“Only when I’m hungry.” smiled the Mahān
Śikārī. “Otherwise the fish cause me no trouble.” Amid the
dhonis moving in and out of the atolls, hosting diving groups and pleasure
seekers, neither noted the one toiling in their wake.
Forty minutes later, as he had done all his life, Janesh admired
the skill of professionals plying their craft. He stood on the dhoni’s small
bridge, watched the larger waves fleck white foam when they crashed against the
reef surrounding the island. The Captain, pilot, and boat had become a seamless
whole. “Slow ahead, Mr. Ayudh.”
“Slow ahead, aye Captain.”
Neither man raised their voices or betrayed the slightest
nervousness. An ill-timed maneuver however and the reef would tear away the
boat’s bottom. The ship’s remaining crew lined the prow ready to raise an alarm.
Pole extended off the starboard, Tilka Lon continued to hope his luck would
change. “Dead slow ahead, Mr. Ayudh.”
“Aye Captain, dead slow ahead.”
The dhoni bobbed between waves rushing toward the white sand beach
two hundred yards beyond the reef. Some rolled over the coral. Others died
against it.
“Slow astern, Mr. Ayudh.”
“Slow astern.” The Captain turned to starboard, watched the wave
motions.
“All ahead full, Mr. Ayudh.” The pilot didn’t respond. He waited
for the micro-second to sense the sea up through the planks his feet stood
planted on. The moment came. He rammed the throttle open. The boat lurched
forward, rode a swell that crested the reef and dropped gently into the
island’s lagoon. “Slow ahead, Mr. Ayudh. Make for the sea channel.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Despite their outward calm, Janesh felt the tension melt away.
“Very nicely done, Captain. My compliments to you and the crew.” The Captain
wore a wide grin.
“We were just passengers. The boat knows what to do. Come, Mr.
McKenzie. Let’s see what kind of bait your friend is using.”
Leaving no perceptible wake, the dhoni slid into the narrow,
half-mile channel bisecting the island. Thick, leafy overhang shaded the sun’s
hot blaze. Dense foliage, undisturbed by trails or paths, grew to the
waterline. Long accustomed to all manner of furtive activity, neither the
Captain nor the crew blinked when Janesh and Tilka boarded the ship’s dinghy
and paddled toward the bank.
They oared it onto shore not bothering to make it fast with the
dhoni anchored thirty yards away. Janesh stepped off with simian agility while
behind him the oars clattered as the boat wobbled. He breathed deep. Raw,
earthy air washed by the ocean welcomed him. Jungle foliage danced and waved in
the gentle breeze. No horns or shouts, rumbles or trundles marred the silence.
Surrounded by the island’s flora, he listened to its own rhythms. Primal
instincts awakened, a dim alarm sounded.
Like a nesting bird feigning injury to lure away a predator,
Janesh had not wanted Tilka Lon and his people anywhere near the project. But
now he realized the danger he’d placed himself in. If the CIA concluded it
served their best interest, they would assassinate him right here. Miranda and
the scientists would be left exposed and vulnerable. Nicholas Koh would show no
mercy. “Why did you place your team here?”
“Somewhere nearby there’s a submarine on station. They’ll use it
to penetrate India. But without at least a secret clearance you could not come
aboard. The team saw an opportunity to hone their survival skills.” Indeed,
Janesh thought. Where did the lies begin? And where did they end?
“Do you know where they are?”
“Well, it’s an island. They can’t be too far.”
“Then lead the way, Mr. Lon.” Besides wanting to keep everything
before him, forging a trail would further sap the agent’s poor physical
condition. A tired body made for slowed reflexes.
Twenty
minutes had the trailblazer covered in sweat and muttering to himself. “Where
the hell are these guys?” Janesh said nothing. Five more yards and the agent
would trip over one. Janesh had already identified him and four others spread
out in a half-moon arc. The remaining seven had to be somewhere rearward lined
across a fallback position. Before Tilka could trip, rising leaves and limbs
startled him.