She smiled and stretched out her arm, touching the flashing icon. Nothing happened. She tapped it again, and the light continued to strobe on and off. Taunting them.
“Did I do it right? Is it broken?” she asked.
“You did fine, Kira. Something is wrong.”
Chris had his hand up cupping his chin, deep in thought. Then he proclaimed, “I think I might know what the problem is. There was one piece that did not click like the others. I tried several times, but it did not seem to fit.”
He hobbled over to the tent and grabbed one of his boots. He held up the heel and grinned while he explained, “Rubber mallet.”
He took one calculated swing at the troublesome spot and turned to say, “Try it again.”
Kira tried once more, and a low hum began vibrating the air around them, causing the hair to stand up on their arms and necks. The central portion of the gate turned opaque, and then the fog cleared, leaving a rippling blue surface. An open door to Atlantis. Ten seconds later, the first shipment arrived.
Elizabeth was the second person through the gate. She was carrying the tail end of a long box filled with solar generators and lighting kits. Because this operation would take place primarily at night, they thought some illumination would be helpful.
There was a twelve-inch step as they came through, and it took the first arrivals by surprise. The man carrying the front, and Elizabeth after him nearly fell as they stepped across the threshold. Al sent word to mind the first step, and after a few more travelers had stumbled through, the newcomers were anticipating the drop and the problem stopped.
Fine particles of ash followed them as they came through the gate, leaving a trail of gray powder behind as they stepped from the transporter. Reports of the conditions on the island were dire and discouraging.
The refugees were starting with a blank slate in a new land, with each person carrying as much as they could handle. Boxes of supplies were packed to fit through the gate and brought through to be set aside until needed. Backpacks they stuffed with the essentials required for daily life.
Elizabeth ran to Al and hugged him. “You did it!” she exclaimed.
Chris and Kira also received hugs. “I am so proud of you three.”
Al acted embarrassed and replied, “Shuck's ma’am, weren’t nothin.”
There wasn’t time for reunions. The line continued to move. Each refugee was assigned a place to set-up household and instructed to assist the new arrivals as soon as they were settled.
Tammy arrived with Thomas, pulling a wagon packed with their most prized possessions. Thomas had his own mini-backpack, filled with toys and blankets essential to him. Chris got a heartfelt kiss from his wife, and then she was gone, doing what she could to ease this difficult transition.
When Jesse came through the portal, Kira happened to be nearby, and she did not try to be discrete. She was glad to see him, and it showed. “It took you long enough; I thought you said you were going to try for the front of the line?”
Jesse was apologetic, “I tried, but they kept pulling me from the line to help elsewhere. I got here as fast as I could. But, enough about me. I hear you had a tough trip—are you okay?”
She wrapped her arms around him, and whispered in his ear, “I am much better now.”
Doc Cody arrived with his wife, carrying with him the equipment and tools of his trade. Ana and Kayla brought more medical supplies and followed shortly after.
Edward Florida came with a lot of boxes, each one packed with outpost technology they may or may not be able to use. He figured in time they could find a way to make use of most of it. In his pocket, he carried the little box with the data cube that was Tiro. If they could find a way to hook an alien reader to a human mainframe, they would have the benefit of his assistance.
Robot Nine, the last remaining service bot from the Excalibur, assisted the roboticist by pulling a cart full of bits and pieces they did not have time to pack. The exodus happened so fast; there was not enough time to get everything they wanted.
The last person through the gate was the captain. He left behind half a dozen people that refused to leave, and one old man was kind enough to work the controls. The captain did not feel good about it, but the holdouts refused to leave.
When they came to Avalon, they had the ship, and all the supplies aboard that assisted them in colonizing a new world. There were machines to pour foundations and footings. Self-erecting habitats that served as homes for the colonists, and sonic fences to keep out predators. This settlement would be different, and considerably more primitive.
By morning the field was full of refugees, all of them busy establishing a foothold in their new land. Simple shelters started, food distributed, and sleeping arrangements made.
As a precaution, Al had his security personnel establish a perimeter. He had no reason to believe there was anything to be concerned about, but Al thought it best to play it safe. He did not like surprises.
When the sun came up, the new arrivals saw the land in all its glory. The sparkling blue lake with the cascading waterfall feeding it. The softly rolling meadow on which they now stood, and the mountains that sheltered the landscape not far away—made them feel better. They would miss the island, and all it had to offer, but not the volcano.
They erected two large tents. One for a base of operations and the other as a mess tent. No matter what, people needed fuel to feed their hard working bodies. The mess tent also served as a gathering place and a source of information.
As a distraction, to give people something to think about besides the work, the captain started a contest to name the village they were founding. It was a big deal, and suggestions poured in. Conversations could be heard all over the camp of people making their case for the designation to be placed on the map of Thera.
The first two weeks would be the most difficult. The grass pathways would turn to dirt, and after a rain—mud. A bucket and some cloth replaced showers for the time being, and their clothing was washed on the rocks by the lake. Soon, though, they knew conditions would improve. When housing construction began, medical facilities erected, and fields planted, their living conditions would gradually improve.
On the morning of the fourth day, a large and growing column of gray and black smoke could be seen over the horizon. The plume could only mean the volcano on Atlantis had exploded, and all those still there almost certainly perished. People would stare for a while, some longer than others, but few discussed it. They knew what it meant.
In the end, they would sigh deeply and get back to their labors. That was the past, and they were living for the future.
Before he left Avalon, Jesse drove the dune buggy down the tunnel to the cavern under the Avalon outpost, took it apart, boxed it up, and transported it as Chris’ requested. There wasn’t time to disassemble both, but the one they did save would be a useful tool for many applications. Chris and Al got the job of assembling the buggy.
“What do you think we should name the village?” asked Chris. “I voted for Saint Thomas; after my dad and son.”
“I wanted to call it Lizland, but she just laughed at me. She didn’t think I was serious,” replied Al.
Chris chuckled at the thought. “Were you? I mean—really—Lizland?”
“I liked it. Your Mom didn’t.”
The simple design of the buggy made for a vehicle both rugged and easy to maintain. It was not long before the assembly was complete and they decided to take a short test drive.
Al suggested, “What do you think about salvaging the outriggers from the Argo to use as a dock on the lake? We could pull the cart you’ve been using to haul them back. At least it has wheels, and they’re not that heavy.”
“That is an excellent idea. We could fish off a dock, and do laundry. If we can put together a little boat, we could go fishing on the lake.”
Al liked riding in the buggy, almost as much as Chris and an idea was born. “Are you doing anything now?” asked Al. “Do you feel like going for a ride?”
Chris liked the idea. “Let me grab the cart and some cutting tools. If we hurry we could be there and back in a few hours.”
They reported their intentions to the wives and the captain, tied the cart to the back of the buggy, and left for the beach. It was a beautiful day, and the trip was a nice change. In less than an hour, they were coming up on the edge of the cliff. The off-road vehicle rode relatively high off the ground, and Chris kept the it moving, so the sleep-inducing flowers had no time to work their spell.
They were leaving the blueish green patch when a white haired primitive popped from the ground before them. The savage saw them and froze for a moment, then turned to look back over the cliff. He was screaming as he ran past the startled men, and moving like his life depended on it.
Chris and Al watched in shock. They thought the people from the caves below were nocturnal and avoided the daylight. Chris spoke first. “That was strange. Where did he come from and why was he so scared?”
“Let’s drive over and see if we can find where he came from,” suggested Al. “It might be a good idea to learn all we can about the beings that live here. If that is an entrance to the underground, it might come in handy.”
“I agree. Much better than falling into a trap.”
What they found explained how the creature could appear from nowhere. It was a square hatch; painted to match the forest floor. Under the metal door were stairs—heading down. A lot of stairs with a landing every fifty steps. Square crystals on the walls of each landing glowed like daylight, and the interior surfaces were smooth and white, without signs of age.
Chris made an observation. “You know, with the direction those steps are taking, and the fact that I can’t see the end, makes me believe they lead to the beach.”
“A stairway to the beach?” asked Al. “That would be convenient. Do you want to find out?”
“No, I better not. My ankle is still sore. I could probably handle going down, but coming back up would be a problem. I’ll wait here. You can test our theory a lot faster than I can.”
Al thought for a second and suggested, “How about we take our time and walk down? I can carry you back up.”
“All right. I
would
like to see the beach again.”
“That’s what I thought.”
On the way down, they discussed their discovery. Al looked around as they descended, and said, “This looks like the work of the Caretakers.”
“I was just thinking that. But why put a stairway here?”
“Maybe the people planted on the island were supposed to come here. The stairs would make it easier for them to move to the mainland.”
“That is a thought. Because the Caretakers had to leave, the Islanders didn’t progress as much as they hoped, and never developed the means to cross the ocean.”
“The construction is similar to the outposts, and it’s the only reason I can think of for it to be here.”
There was another hatch at the bottom. When Al opened it, and they stepped through, they found themselves on the warm sands of the beach. Chris looked up at the hundred feet of sheer rock above them and said, “It seems we went through all that trouble climbing to the top for nothing.”
The Argo was still on the beach where they left it. The damage inflicted by the storm evident in the scarred wood and scraped hull. The morning was slipping by, and the reason they came still incomplete. Al said, “Well, let’s get to removing the outriggers. Should we begin at the—.
Al stopped talking when he noticed the waterline receding like a sped up tide, leaving a quickly growing patch of wet sand. From the cliff edge above them came the sound of urgent yelling. Someone was trying to get their attention.
Excited natives were leaning over the edge of the cliff, and making loud sounds of warning. There were four of them, and repeatedly they would bark and point out to sea. Chris and Al followed the pointing fingers and beheld the reason for their concern.
Under the expanding billowing cloud of smoke coming from the island, was a wall of water growing at an alarming rate. Within seconds, they were facing a tsunami wave seventy feet tall.
With only seconds to act, Al closed his eyes and said the magic phrase. Without waiting for the transition to be complete, he grabbed Chris and made for the door. With Chris over his shoulder, he ran up the stairs three steps at a time. There was no time to close the hatch behind them.
He was not fast enough. The water caught them, and propelled them up the stairwell, bouncing against stairs, walls, and ceilings.
Inside of the careening, tumbling world he was in, he managed to get turned around and slightly ahead of Chris, and hit the topside hatch feet first. They were ejected from the passageway with a geyser of pressurized water and thrown ten feet away like flotsam thrown to the breakers.
Chris took in deep breaths and coughed until his lungs cleared. When he turned to ask Al if he was okay, the question died in his throat. Al was face down, and he was not moving.
During the assent, Al arranged for his body to take the brunt of the damage; cradling Chris in his arms to protect him from the worst of it. It was an action that saved Chris but was costly for Al.
The water disappeared almost as fast as it appeared. The explosive force that ejected them from the beach melted into the grass and sank back down the tunnel of the stairwell leaving everything wet and dripping.
When Chris recovered enough to move, he crawled to Al and shook him. “Al. Al wake up!” he pleaded. Still, Al did not move.
“You’ve shut down on me—haven’t you? Well, that’s okay. I can wait thirty minutes until you reboot. In the meantime, I have to get you onto the cart.”
He used the dune buggy to pull the wheeled platform closer to his friend, and struggled to get him onto it. When he finally succeeded, his ankle was screaming.
Chris kept track of time, and when it approached thirty minutes having passed, he stopped and waited. Al opened his eyes and then blinked. His eyes checked his surroundings, but his body was still.