Chapter Two
Bryan flinched. He instantly realized that in his haste, born of greed, he had acted very foolishly and probably doomed himself. But he waited several moments, and when he opened his eyes, he was still there, in one piece.
As he entered the room, he realized he had tripped a hair-thin wire, and ducked and rolled to avoid the scythe that was sure to be coming at his neck.
But the wire had, actually, pulled two small rusty levers, one in each direction. As each scraped against the wall, it sent sparks into a petroleum-saturated sconce, which instantly burst into flame. Each torch then ignited a flax fuse which led to another torch, and another, and so forth and onward, gradually lighting the chamber. The technique had been used less successfully by Lord Talbot at the coronation banquet of King George III on Earth. But this flax had been woven by slaves along the banks of the Rilo River using a long-lost technique, as such that it did not burst into sparks and shower down on the glorious scene which now stretched before Bryan Gilmore. Before him stretched a scene he had waited most of his life to see.
Before him stretched a chamber full of every kind of treasure imaginable. Idols and plates and jewelry and mosaics and tapestries and so much more. The eyes hurt when they beheld so much gold, silver and platinum, polished to a dazzling sheen and somehow untouched by dust, even after all these years, inlaid more often than not with rubies and emeralds and jades and sapphires and huge perfectly cut diamonds. Everything seemed strewn all over the place, and yet organized in a precisely calculated manner to be most pleasing to the eye. As he gazed around in wonder, he noticed that the walls were lined with mirrors to magnify the scene. But he didn’t care. It was, by far, more than impressive enough.
He felt a hand on his arm. “It’s beautiful,” Mary whispered. He could only nod, agreeing but not really hearing her. A lump came to his throat and a tear to his eye.
Paul walked past him, gazing around, and removed his hat. He extended a hand. “I must apologize, once again, for ever doubting you,” he said.
Bryan shook his hand, but his thoughts were elsewhere. This was it! This was the culmination of all the hard work, all the sacrifice, all the research and exploration and tolerating these crazy people. His reputation was made, and his fortune right behind that. The artifacts that Glik and Glak were now busily stuffing into their garments wouldn’t put a scratch in the wealth of this place.
Bryan shook his head in wonder. “Pinch me,” he said.
Suddenly, the room was filled with menacing laughter. The door slammed shut and the torches flickered, casting dark foreboding shadows and a blinding supernatural display of light glinting off the mirrors.
“Now why should they want to do that?” bellowed a deep voice from all around them. “Haven’t you infidels been through enough to find my tomb already?”
Bryan’s blood froze. Cold sweat stood out from every pore of his body. It took all of his energy to swallow a breath of the dank, musty air. A ghost? he wondered. Surely not. Such things had no basis in science, and he did not believe in them. A recording, then? Possibly. The Shindoor had always been incredibly far ahead of their time…
Then a realization struck him. Why would Caldwok be speaking English?
Everyone seemed to have the same thought at once, because they all turned to face the intruder at the same time. As one, they started in surprise. Bryan recognized him, but his amazement if anything surpassed that of the others, because he recognized the man.
His name was Aaron LaBarr, although he had deliberately misspelled it “Aron Labar” on everything to which his signature had been affixed over the years. This had never gone over well with the many universities he had attended over the years, at one of which he had in fact been a pupil of Dr. Gilmore’s, but he continually insisted, “The repetition of letters is unnecessary and furthermore a pain in the butt. Over a lifetime, my abstinence from using them has conserved enough time and energy for a full-length archaeological expedition to just about anywhere.”
But the name, misspelled or otherwise, had never reached a wide audience, and it was the sight of the person behind it that struck a chord with the group now.
He was, as they say, “thin as a beanpole.” And yet he was robust, bristling with solid muscle throughout his entire frame. His visage was worn and pitted with years of adventuresome experiences, and at the moment covered with three-day stubble. A small patch had been removed from the left side of his jaw, however, as if he had taken a razor to it and decided it wasn’t worth the effort. His eyes were what drew your attention, though. They were baby blue, but seemed to observe the world with an incredibly amused cynicism and condescension.
All in all, he was not the sort you soon forgot. And at first glance, you would not expect him to be standing in the entranceway of a secret chamber far underground. But when you thought about it, you would quickly realize that somehow, a man with his look was perfectly suited to standing in the entranceway of a secret chamber far underground, and even more so to a sudden burst of action and violence within said chamber. Although he wore dingy, tattered yet incredibly plain safari clothes, like the others, he may as well have been attired in a fedora and leather jacket, with a World War II gas mask bag over his shoulder and a leather bullwhip coiled at his side.
Aware of the reaction he had inspired, Aaron smirked. “Well, don’t everyone talk to me at once,” he warned.
Bryan, being the one who knew him, was the first to regain his composure. “Ah, yes,” he said somewhat testily. “Folks, this is Dr. Aaron LaBarr,” he went on. Then he pointed out each of them in turn. “This is Dr. Paul Binyird and Dr. Mary Delisle. And our hired protection, Glik and Glak.”
Aaron extended his hand and shook each person’s in turn. While Paul forced a very unconvincing fake smile, Mary made no attempt to hide the coldness in her eyes. Aaron wrinkled his nose at her. The mercenaries gave him the same reaction as they did to everyone who was not an employer; no interest whatsoever.
“Sorry to scare you all, gang,” he added with a laugh. “It was cruel and it was heartless and it was immature, and I just couldn’t help it.” He laughed again.
Mary narrowed her eyes to slits. “Cad,” she said simply.
Aaron stared at her for a long time, scrutinizing her like a rare species of butterfly that had been jammed into the grille of his speeder. Yet his gaze was cold and mistrustful, and Mary felt decidedly uncomfortable being observed by this man. She blinked and averted her eyes.
“You guys have just become filthy stinking rich, I presume,” he said, gesturing around at the loot. “I would suggest each of you invest in a Laundromat of some sort.” He looked at everyone more closely. “What’d you do, have a mud fight without me?”
“Er, hello, Dr. LaBarr,” Bryan began uncomfortably. “What brings you here?”
He was hardly happier to see his old acquaintance than the others were to meet a new one. True, Aaron had been the only one to believe that he could find the tomb of Caldwok. He had spent countless hours with him searching the library, combing dusty museum back rooms and pawn shops, breaking into classified government warehouses on several planets, all to find the evidence that would lead to this place. At some point he had disappeared, and left Bryan to sort out the pieces himself. And he had promised someday to return, a promise he had now apparently fulfilled.
But his tasteless introduction, which had not only scared them all out of about ten years of life but was also completely disrespectful to the dead king, had reminded him of another fact, one that had driven him nearly insane during their partnership. Aaron LaBarr was what was known, in social terminology, as a louse. He was arrogant, headstrong, foolish, and he was the sort of person who walked back and forth in front of someone’s house for hours, simply because it annoyed their dogs.
The worst of it, though, was that given these two facts, Bryan had every reason to suspect that Aaron was taking over his find. And he would probably succeed, too. Because although it defied all justice and logic, he seemed to succeed at everything. Bryan had been through too much to let this extraordinary discovery slip through his fingers. He needed to be the one in the spotlight, the one on talk shows, the one selling autographs at exorbitant prices to the fools who had doubted him not long before.
He almost missed Aaron’s response to his question. “They locked me out of my apartment,” he said with a shrug. “So I decided to track you down.”
Bryan raised an eyebrow. “Right when I was making the greatest discovery of the century. Quite a coincidence.”
“Well, I found you three years ago,” Aaron insisted. “But I thought I’d wait until you were doing something exciting. I’m into field work now, bay-beee.” He laughed. “I’m certainly not trying to sell you my services, although they do come cheap these days.”
“They were free in the old days,” Bryan muttered.
“I had a job in the old days,” Aaron pointed out. “Not that I’m complaining. Life’s been sweet and all. You just let me watch, and don’t worry about me taking your precious spotlight.” He grinned, rather cruelly, Bryan thought. And how did he know about that?
There was another concern. “How did you get past the sinking and the crumbling and whatnot?” Bryan demanded.
Aaron stared at him. “It’s not that hard,” he insisted. “Don’t you remember that cryptic clue we found a while back? ‘Press forward with readily changing footsteps, or the earth itself shall be thine fiercest enemy’?”
Bryan could feel a headache coming on.
“I could tell that’s where you had your mud fight,” he added, “and also someone wasn’t too careful with the other bit.” He eyed Mary up and down. “It was her,” he decided. “She matches the hole.”
Mary’s eyes darkened in fury. “Why, you are a –”
“It’s not here,” Paul whined.
Bryan froze in terror, greater by far than that when Aaron had surprised him. “What?” he whispered hoarsely.
Paul raised his voice, and seemed positively peeved now. “I said it’s not here! The bloody coffin isn’t here!”
“It has to be. How far did you look?”
“To the end of the chamber! I’m telling you, it isn’t here!”
Bryan followed him across the chamber, panic mounting in his chest. All of these treasures were nothing, in his mind, compared to the king’s mummy. Aaron followed at a leisurely pace, smirking uncontrollably.
Paul did appear to be correct. There was nothing in the room even remotely resembling a coffin. And Caldwok, having allowed the plunderers of his tomb to come this far, albeit grudgingly, would have wanted them to behold his glory. Subtlety was not an option.
“Heh, check out the mirrors in this place!” Aaron sniffed.
Bryan and Paul both glared at him.
“No seriously, check them out!” And he walked to the nearest one, and pulled it open, much like a medicine cabinet, revealing a dark passage beyond.
Bryan suddenly began to feel queasy, and his headache blossomed into a full-fledged migraine.
Aaron quickly walked through. “Last one in is a rotten egg!” he yelled. “Echo! Echo!”
No one followed for a while. They simply stared, dumbfounded at the task before them. And the louse who had figured it out.
“I don’t like that character at all,” Mary said at last.
“I can hardly blame you,” Bryan sighed. “But he’s right. I hate to admit it, but he’s always right.”
***
As they hurried to catch up to Aaron, Bryan explained, “I should have been expecting this all along. We must prove ourselves worthier still, before we behold the king himself.”
“I vote ‘screw that,’” said Paul sourly. “I’ve had about enough of this bloody tramping around. I can live with the treasure trove back there. I merely pointed out the coffin’s absence as a scientific observation.”
“Amen,” said Mary, not even embarrassed to be agreeing with Paul.
Glik and Glak did not venture an opinion, but it was a point of interest for them to see the greatest historical figure their homeworld had to offer, for the first time in several millennia. It came in second to the treasure, of course, but certainly it would be worth their while.
“Screw whatever you feel like,” Bryan called back. “I’m not leaving until I’ve found it.”
Or until Aaron’s found it, he thought bitterly. He was being pushed back into a supporting role, no more important now than Mary or Paul, playing second-fiddle to this self-absorbed cretin who was still quite a ways ahead of them. The passage had turned out to be a labyrinth, but he ignored the chalk marks that Aaron had left and instead followed the obnoxious humming.
It was the Indiana Jones theme, he realized, although it would take some major repair work to get it back on key. John Williams would do more than turning over in his grave; he’d be liable to up and start a zombie revolt. Still, it also made Bryan realize that nothing exciting was going on, at least in the way of booby traps or men with guns, and for that he was glad. The maze, he realized, was more traditional, and just as effective. It was just as well that no one had previously come this far, or the floor would surely be littered with bones.
Something else nagged at him, though. When they reached Aaron, he demanded, “How do you know which way to go?”
“Easy. There’s a slight incline along all the correct corridors. If you were to straighten them into one long passage, you would find it very steep, for the very good reason that it leads –” he gestured at a square hole cut in the wall, “– to this ventilation shaft. Which would, logically, be somewhere near the coffin.” He shook his head. “It ain’t rocket science.”
Bryan displayed a solitary finger to Aaron’s back. It was not the one way sign.
They came to another door, as simple as the first. Yet something told them that this really was it, this time. And if that something had lied, then something drastic was going to be done by someone.
The room small and made of simple, humble stonework, and somehow didn’t fit the solid gold coffin plopped randomly into the middle of it. It was shaped like an anorexic octagon on steroids, and the lid was decorated with symbols and drawings of every variety imaginable. Bryan did not waste time digging for his translation key, however. That could wait patiently until later, in a proper academic setting. What needed to be done now, was to open it.
Aaron seemed more fascinated, however, with the solitary golden plaque that adorned the far wall. It was about the size of his a conventional grave marker and it, too, had writing. He ran his fingers around one edge, and raised an eyebrow. “Check it out, doc,” he said. “This thing is part of the wall.”
“Never mind that,” said Bryan. “Help us get this.” He and the others were positioned to raise the coffin’s lid. Grudgingly, Aaron came over to join them.
“What about your manicure?” Bryan asked Mary with a wink, noticing that she was going to help.
She winked in return. “It’ll grow back.”
They stressed and strained with its weight. It made the stone at the entrance seem light as a feather. But they all shared Bryan’s energy now, and it was a powerful thing. They made quick progress. Paul even had the energy to inquire, “Why’s it in this dive, and not the treasure room?”
Aaron opened his mouth to answer, and caught himself. He grinned sheepishly at Bryan. “Go ahead, this is your gig,” he said.
Bryan gave him a nod of gratitude. At least he had remembered his place for once. Perhaps he could salvage some spotlight, after all. “This is a treasure room,” he explained. “For the Shindoor’s greatest treasure, and nothing to compete with its glory.”
They finished getting the lid off about then and painstakingly set it down on the floor. Bryan moved his eyes to the gold-plated figure inside.
Transfixed, he reached out to stroke the mummified figure, which looked not a day older than that of its death. It was a stern-faced, handsome man, with the hollow cheekbones and lanky build that characterized natives of Andiron. He wore the royal suit of armor that the king always had, emblazoned with jewels that made the previous ones look like beads. His lips were curled into a defiant smirk.
Bryan stroked it again, not thinking of how wrong this was, only that he wanted to touch this compelling creature. He grasped its head, and slowly raised it from the coffin, so he could look the magnificent king in the eye.
His clouded mind barely registered Aaron yelling, “No!”
Everyone else turned to see the plaque burst several feet through the air, from its snug niche in the stone of the wall. Aaron lunged and caught it, and looked back to where several gallons of water were suddenly pumping through said niche into the chamber. “Let’s go,” he said.
Bryan remained transfixed. Glik and Glak forcibly pried him from the coffin and rushed towards the door. Suddenly realizing what was going on, he screamed and ran back to it. “Cover the body!” he yelled. “Cover the body!”
In an insane and vain effort, he tugged on the coffin lid. Then, realizing all at once the true gravity of the situation, he pulled a plastic poncho from his pocket and draped it over King Caldwok, firmly tucking in the edges, yet knowing it wouldn’t do much good. He could only hope it would weather the storm as it had the years.
They raced through the labyrinth again, glancing quickly at each of Aaron’s chalk marks, and then running like mad to the next junction. The water had already begun to fill it up, and run down the slant to follow them.
“Wait!” Aaron yelled from behind them. “The ventilation shaft, you idiots!” But the current was strong, and there was no turning back. With a shrug, he followed them.
They raced through the treasure room. Glik and Glak paused briefly to fill their pockets with more items, but the water was relentlessly filling up here as well. They exchanged another knowing, conspiratorial glance before they ran to catch up with the others.
Whereas caution had dictated their movements before,
They reached the area atop the stone and golden spinal cord, and desperately crowded onto it. In their panic someone pressed onto a gold vertebra, and the entire structure came collapsing down under them. They landed hard on the door, which had been turned into a platform, which was tipping under its new load. Rock and gold spilled into the darkness below.
“Acid lake or not,” Mary said, scrabbling for a handhold among the rapidly retreating rubble, “I personally think that –”
At about that time the water came rushing down in a torrent upon the other end of it, sending them sprawling in the opposite direction. As the platform began to crumble under all the pressure, everyone managed to grab the lip of the cavity and climb back into dragators mouth
Then they tiptoed cautiously across the crumbly floor, as fast as they dared. Soon they reached the holes left by Mary and Glak’s projectile, and they knew they had almost made it. Then the whole thing became mud, and, too viscous to hold them, suddenly collapsed
Glik and Glak began firing into the hordes of plants that had instantly begun to snap at their tasty new morsels. Aaron lodged the plaque he had salvaged into one’s maw as it lunged for them, and wrenched it back out as he continued to fall. It was all futile, though, they were still going to die when they hit the ground…
But then they noticed the wall in front of them, which was made up of the quickmud and supported that portion of the floor above. Specifically, they noticed it because the water had increased its viscosity as well, and was washing it away, and the whole thing was coming down on top of them. Then they were in it, and then they reached the ground and hit hard, barely cushioned by the mud.
Everyone was as sore now as Paul had been earlier, except for Paul, who was twice as sore now as he had been earlier. But there was no rest for the weary. They were moving, in the opposite direction now, carried by the current. They were being carried into the dried riverbed, and realizing, a bit too late, what it had been dammed up for.
Aaron suddenly got to his feet without any visible struggle. He climbed onto the plaque, carefully centering his weight, to use it as a surfboard. With a grin, he stripped down to a pair of swim trunks and unceremoniously tossed his clothes to a passing plant.
“As the dudes say,” he said, “righteous!”
Then, up ahead, directly in their path, he could see another opening, similar to the ventilation shaft far above. This one, however, was plugged with a stone.
“Hold on,” he said, “Just got a spot of bother with the wall here. I’ll handle it.” He swooped down and grabbed one of the mercenaries’ guns, which they had clung to with all the determination of rigor mortis. He began to aim, struggling to hold it steady as he was rocked by the pounding waves.
Bryan struggled to raise himself, and get a clearer view of what Aaron was talking about. “No, wait!” he cried. “That rock is an artifact!” He realized even as he spoke how foolish he was being, but years of training had inbred this reaction. “Don’t glubglubglub –” he gasped as his strength gave out and he collapsed into the mud. He just had time to hear the gun go off and the rock shatter.
He felt a momentary pang of despair. Although it had blocked their path and threatened their lives, although it was undecorated and boring, it had still been a piece of this archaeological site, and as such it pained him to have it destroyed. But as he coursed through its debris and sailed out into the open air, this feeling quickly gave way to shear terror.
The stone had, indeed, been part of the wall on the surface, which had given way to this whole underground nightmare in the first place. But this part was on the other side of the mountain. Which appeared to be much steeper than the way they had come up.
Time seemed to stand still as they hung above the ground, suspended in a burst of mud. Aaron was on its crest, letting the wind blow his hair back, and apparently loving every minute of it. Then they came down and began sliding again, over rocks, into trees, through anything that was not firmly anchored down. Within seconds, they completed a journey which had taken nearly a day on the way up the other side.
Then the terrain unexpectedly leveled out, and they began to slow down. But they were still going too fast to avoid the herd of large animals directly in front of them.
***
It was a pleasant day for grazing in the grass. The sun did not burn too hard, and the insects that parasitized the beasts were dwindling. Both of these points were controlled in turn by incredibly complex combinations of natural factors, but this particular beast did not care. He simply appreciated them, and gave his undivided attention to seeking out the most succulent weeds and grubs of the jungle plain. He was certainly not alone in this regard.
But another incredibly complex combination of natural factors had given him above-average hearing for his kind, and he was the first to notice the screaming sounds that filled the distant air. He did not recognize the sounds, and turned to pinpoint their location, in case they turned out to be a threat.
He was just as nearsighted as the rest of the herd, unfortunately, but he could not have missed the humongous brown blob that came surging rapidly down the mountain towards them. Seeing this, he felt the first twinge of panic. He did not recognize this either, and had no way of knowing whether it was dangerous. Surely the leader would know, he reasoned. This should be brought to the leader’s attention at once.
He grunted, and several other heads swiveled to look.
***
Aaron could see them clearly, and the others could get enough of a glimpse through their mud-spattered eyelids to see that they resembled orange hippopotami. Glik and Glak knew what they were called, but could see no point in telling the others. Especially when they began to stampede.
Figures, Mary thought to herself. Nothing else had gone right, so why this?
Even at their reduced speed, the group instantly overtook the fleeing beasts. Suddenly they were squirming, thrashing, avoiding the massive hooves that came crashing down at them and threatened to liquefy bone and muscle into a mass of jelly. Pure adrenaline and instinct gave them the necessary reflexes to avoid this fate, but only for a few precious seconds.
Aaron took the challenge in stride, and grabbed some air on his improvised surfboard. He soared over one of the beasts, slipped smoothly under another, and then launched himself from the board and did a cartwheel in the air, landing neatly on it directly in front of a startled behemoth.
“Grab their bellies!” he yelled to his floundering companions. “It works on TV!”
They were all quick to comply, and began hanging on for dear life. A similar jumble of thoughts ran through everyone’s mind, a desperate obsession with survival. No one had expected to end up in this situation when they signed on for the trip. Of course any possibilities had been a given, but this was ridiculous.
The only notable variation was a thought that crossed Mary as she dug her manicured fingernails into thick flesh, namely; that the worst part of this experience was the smell.
Suddenly the beast behind Aaron butted him hard, and sent him flying. He quickly kicked the plaque into his hands and maneuvered himself to land directly on the leader of the herd. From this vantage point, he saw something very disturbing. The plain was about to end at a vertical cliff.
He almost got the special treat of going over it a bit early, as the beast tried to buck him off. He ducked down and grabbed its neck to steady himself, and then carefully lowered his legs over the beast’s sides, so he could dig them into his flanks and determine direction.
“No good, mister!” yelled Glik (or was it Glak?). “The Shias cannot be tamed!”
“Never tell me the facts!” Aaron yelled back. He dug harder and tugged at its neck, directing it sharply to the right. Still, it refused to yield, as the mercenary had warned. The cliff was only a few yards away now.
It was time to try something different. Leaning into its ear, he whispered something, his face showing that whatever it was, he had filled it with conviction and firmness. Within seconds, the entire herd had ground to a halt and begun digging through the mud for some more tasty treats. The mud had calmed a bit now, and came to a stop inched before it would have swept them over the cliff regardless.
Aaron calmly got down and smiled broadly. Only a slight wobble in his step revealed that the ordeal had had any effect. “That,” he said, “was totally EPIC!”
He looked down at the ground hundreds of feet below, and then began to pull out something else. “Who here’s gone rappelling?” he wanted to know. He was met with a chorus of groans. “Just kidding,” he mumbled. “I know you all have though. You’re repulsive enough.”
Nearly unable to stand the pain, which had suddenly increased at the awful pun, Bryan wiped the mud from his eyes with stiff knotted muscles in his arm, and shook it from his ears with the stiff knotted muscles in his neck. As he watched in amazement, Aaron pulled a first aid kit from his pocket (his swim trunk pocket!) and began treating the others. “Cracked ribs,” he would mutter. “There’s a surprise. The rest is all superficial. Suck it up and deal.”
When Aaron reached him, he was incapable of looking at the man, the louse who had saved them all. But he knew he owed an apology. To all of them.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was a real boneheaded dolt back there. I should have been more careful, more alert for the next trap.”
No one else bothered to acknowledge him, but Aaron lifted his chin and gazed into his eyes. His smile was genuine. “Don’t feel so bad,” he said. “It would have happened to any of us. You were simply overcome by greed and lust for power, that’s all. It would have happened to any of us. Although what’s so great about a dead guy compared to all that moola, is beyond me.” He frowned. “Your glasses are gone, dude.”
“I only need them for reading,” said Bryan. Aaron was being incredibly nice, and it was hard to dislike him right at this moment. It wouldn’t hurt to swallow the rest of the pride. “It’s a lucky thing you came along,” he admitted.
“I know. That’s why I did.” Aaron stood up and gazed around. “I think I’ll be in charge from now on, if you don’t mind,” he said. “And I think we should stay here for the night.”
Bryan wholeheartedly agreed, his earlier misgivings about the jungle overshadowed by his need for relaxation. And the fact that he couldn’t get up if he wanted to. “Of course,” he said. He realized he was fighting to stay awake. He decided to give in.
“Hey, one thing,” Glik yelled at him. “The Shias cannot be tamed! How in Grabthar’s name you do that?”
Aaron hesitated, then confided in a low undertone, “Just a little mantra I learned from the Wuzzy monks.”
Bryan quickly caught himself, on the cusp of consciousness. He could not possibly have heard correctly. He wasn’t that old, after all, was he? And hadn’t he cleared all the mud from his ears? He gaped at his former pupil. “You found the Wuzzy monks?” he sputtered.
He thought back to the Wuzzy monks. For a time he had been nearly as obsessed with them as he was now with the Shindoor, but had given up because there simply was no evidence for their existence. But he had told Aaron of them, late at night, of the legend, the bedtime story that they were.
“Wuzzy monks” was an affectionate nickname for the members of the Brotherhood of Chao Ling Lee, who lived in a temple atop Mount Chang-Chong-Chek on an unspecified distant planet. They had formed eons ago and supposedly still operated, somewhere, learning skills both physically and intellectually, combating the forces of evil with everything they could possibly muster.
Their culture, obviously, had developed many parallels with that of ancient China, Japan, Tibet and Korea on Earth, which was one reason why most scholars chose to disbelieve their existence. As Bryan had found, their was no evidence to support it either, and the legends had obviously spread through word of mouth, from some unspecified point in the past, when someone had obviously made it up, thinking it to be a good story. It had probably not even started out as being a distant planet, he had reasoned. Presumably it was about some vague Oriental location by some ignorant Westerners, and was simply adapted for the space age.
And now here was this louse, his former student, implying that he had found it and reached enlightenment first.
“Yeah,” he was saying, “yeah. It was really something.”
“Where is it?” Bryan wanted to know. Desperately. The feeling was in his veins once again; already thoughts of King Caldwok faded into obscurity. This would arguably make an even greater discovery, and hopefully wouldn’t cover him with mud in the process.
“I swore an oath, I can’t tell you,” said Aaron. “You know me, don’t you think I would have rushed to the media and gotten the paychecks? You wouldn’t like it anyway, old man. It’s a real doozy of a hike. And then they’ve got booby traps to test your worthiness.”
Bryan groaned. He’d had about all he could take. On both counts.
“They taught me a lot,” Aaron continued. “Of course I never quite finished my training. I wasn’t quite worthy. But I made it pretty far.”
And thus, Bryan thought as he lapsed into unconsciousness, did the pupil surpass the teacher.
***
Night fell quickly in the jungle. It was a cool humid one, preventing the mud from completely drying on to them, which was fortunate because otherwise they certainly would have become trapped. In addition to insulating them from the temperature, it also protected from the bugs which were now coming out in full force. Everyone slept, exhausted from the ordeal, even Glik and Glak who were supposed to be protecting them; everyone except for Aaron.
Away from the group, he poked at his campfire with a large stick. He was probably much more tired and bruised from the adventure than he let on, but much too excited to sleep. The old man’s obsession was becoming his, now. Not to the extent that it clouded his judgment, of course, but just as intense in its own way. It reached its peak when he thought of that piece of knowledge he held, that no one else had figured out. It pleased him to be on top.
Suddenly there was a crunch of sticks on the ground, and he spun around, ready to defend the campsite. It was not a predator, though, it was Mary Delisle.
“Hi,” she said weakly. She sat down on the log next to him.
“Hi,” he repeated.
They sat there in silence, staring into the fire for several minutes. Finally she said, “I guess this is kind of weird, but I always wake up, around three in the morning, and then go back to sleep.” She shrugged sheepishly.
Aaron shrugged too. “Not weird at all,” he said. “Happens to a lot of us.”
“I have to admit,” she went on after a few more minutes, “when you first showed up back there, I hated your guts. But I’m glad you came now.”
Aaron laughed a little. “Something inside told me I should be there,” he confessed.
“The Wuzzy monk training?” Her voice was full of awed reverence.
“Maybe.” Aaron suddenly tired of poking the fire, and threw his stick into it. He watched it burn for several more minutes. His eyes flickered to the sparks, as they ascended into the sky, through the trees, where they concealed themselves amongst the few stars that shone through the canopy, and finally flickered out.
Then he turned to Mary. She looked absolutely stunning in the firelight. And somehow younger, more vulnerable, like a child. Her lips were accentuated by the golden glow, and seemed as if they were begging to be kissed.
Well, he couldn’t let them down, could he? Cautiously, he slipped his arm around her. She looked at him curiously, but did not resist. He leaned in closer.
Mary realized what was happening. Oh man, he’s going to kiss me, she thought. And she didn’t know what to think about that. It was certainly the right atmosphere, certainly the right situation, but she couldn’t be sure that it was the right guy. Still, he had saved her life, and Glik and Glak had each received kisses for doing the same. And he did have nice eyes, after all. So she leaned in towards him as well.
Aaron could smell the perfume she had put on before bed, that expensive substance from Voltran she adored, and breathed deeply. What he got was a nose full of smoke.
“Gak!” Coughing and spluttering, they quickly moved around to the other side of the fire, which now seemed to be crackling and wavering in deliberate mockery. Of course. It hadn’t happened yet, so why not now, at the worst possible time?
They repositioned themselves and began again. Mary tried to recapture the original feeling of the moment. It was difficult, but they seemed to be managing.
***
Too tired and fed up to argue, they followed him back to the small outpost where their journey had begun. It was, to quote the age-old cliché, a “wretched hive of scum and villainy.” There was no fervor, however, no zest, as if the stifling boredom had gotten to its few inhabitants; and they pursued their scummy villainous tasks with a marked lack of enthusiasm. It was only a matter of time before anyone here went mad, and suddenly gained enthusiasm, albeit for decidedly different tasks, before they wound up in the city’s bulging sanatorium, a.k.a. prison. Here they would waste away and die, although the process was certainly a refreshing change from the tedium of regular daily life.
The group was slightly cheered up to see that their ship, on loan from the university, had not been stolen or stripped of its vital parts. Evidently the third mercenary, who was sleeping in its shade right now, had done his job well. He cautiously opened one eye as Bryan rushed to the ship and firmly kissed it.
“Thanks a mil, Glok, this is a sight I’d have killed to see by now,” he said. “How much do I owe you?”
“Guhhh…” Glok said groggily.
“Here, take it all,” said Bryan, emptying the contents of his wallet. He looked at the ship again and smiled. In his enthusiasm to see it again, he had momentarily forgotten that he still had two more mercenaries to pay. Had he remembered then, it would have been too late, for Glok had already left for the nearest bar, to buy a round for all his friends and spend the rest of the day unconscious.
Oblivious to this turn of events, Bryan started beaming at his companions. “We’re alive,” he confirmed. “Everything hurts, but we’re alive.”
“Indeed,” said Paul absently. “We’re very fortunate to have made it out. And now,” he continued gravely, as he and Mary pulled out guns from within their safari jackets and swiftly aimed them at Bryan and Aaron, “it is time for you to leave.”
Next: Chapter Three (Unfinished)
As he entered the room, he realized he had tripped a hair-thin wire, and ducked and rolled to avoid the scythe that was sure to be coming at his neck.
But the wire had, actually, pulled two small rusty levers, one in each direction. As each scraped against the wall, it sent sparks into a petroleum-saturated sconce, which instantly burst into flame. Each torch then ignited a flax fuse which led to another torch, and another, and so forth and onward, gradually lighting the chamber. The technique had been used less successfully by Lord Talbot at the coronation banquet of King George III on Earth. But this flax had been woven by slaves along the banks of the Rilo River using a long-lost technique, as such that it did not burst into sparks and shower down on the glorious scene which now stretched before Bryan Gilmore. Before him stretched a scene he had waited most of his life to see.
Before him stretched a chamber full of every kind of treasure imaginable. Idols and plates and jewelry and mosaics and tapestries and so much more. The eyes hurt when they beheld so much gold, silver and platinum, polished to a dazzling sheen and somehow untouched by dust, even after all these years, inlaid more often than not with rubies and emeralds and jades and sapphires and huge perfectly cut diamonds. Everything seemed strewn all over the place, and yet organized in a precisely calculated manner to be most pleasing to the eye. As he gazed around in wonder, he noticed that the walls were lined with mirrors to magnify the scene. But he didn’t care. It was, by far, more than impressive enough.
He felt a hand on his arm. “It’s beautiful,” Mary whispered. He could only nod, agreeing but not really hearing her. A lump came to his throat and a tear to his eye.
Paul walked past him, gazing around, and removed his hat. He extended a hand. “I must apologize, once again, for ever doubting you,” he said.
Bryan shook his hand, but his thoughts were elsewhere. This was it! This was the culmination of all the hard work, all the sacrifice, all the research and exploration and tolerating these crazy people. His reputation was made, and his fortune right behind that. The artifacts that Glik and Glak were now busily stuffing into their garments wouldn’t put a scratch in the wealth of this place.
Bryan shook his head in wonder. “Pinch me,” he said.
Suddenly, the room was filled with menacing laughter. The door slammed shut and the torches flickered, casting dark foreboding shadows and a blinding supernatural display of light glinting off the mirrors.
“Now why should they want to do that?” bellowed a deep voice from all around them. “Haven’t you infidels been through enough to find my tomb already?”
Bryan’s blood froze. Cold sweat stood out from every pore of his body. It took all of his energy to swallow a breath of the dank, musty air. A ghost? he wondered. Surely not. Such things had no basis in science, and he did not believe in them. A recording, then? Possibly. The Shindoor had always been incredibly far ahead of their time…
Then a realization struck him. Why would Caldwok be speaking English?
Everyone seemed to have the same thought at once, because they all turned to face the intruder at the same time. As one, they started in surprise. Bryan recognized him, but his amazement if anything surpassed that of the others, because he recognized the man.
His name was Aaron LaBarr, although he had deliberately misspelled it “Aron Labar” on everything to which his signature had been affixed over the years. This had never gone over well with the many universities he had attended over the years, at one of which he had in fact been a pupil of Dr. Gilmore’s, but he continually insisted, “The repetition of letters is unnecessary and furthermore a pain in the butt. Over a lifetime, my abstinence from using them has conserved enough time and energy for a full-length archaeological expedition to just about anywhere.”
But the name, misspelled or otherwise, had never reached a wide audience, and it was the sight of the person behind it that struck a chord with the group now.
He was, as they say, “thin as a beanpole.” And yet he was robust, bristling with solid muscle throughout his entire frame. His visage was worn and pitted with years of adventuresome experiences, and at the moment covered with three-day stubble. A small patch had been removed from the left side of his jaw, however, as if he had taken a razor to it and decided it wasn’t worth the effort. His eyes were what drew your attention, though. They were baby blue, but seemed to observe the world with an incredibly amused cynicism and condescension.
All in all, he was not the sort you soon forgot. And at first glance, you would not expect him to be standing in the entranceway of a secret chamber far underground. But when you thought about it, you would quickly realize that somehow, a man with his look was perfectly suited to standing in the entranceway of a secret chamber far underground, and even more so to a sudden burst of action and violence within said chamber. Although he wore dingy, tattered yet incredibly plain safari clothes, like the others, he may as well have been attired in a fedora and leather jacket, with a World War II gas mask bag over his shoulder and a leather bullwhip coiled at his side.
Aware of the reaction he had inspired, Aaron smirked. “Well, don’t everyone talk to me at once,” he warned.
Bryan, being the one who knew him, was the first to regain his composure. “Ah, yes,” he said somewhat testily. “Folks, this is Dr. Aaron LaBarr,” he went on. Then he pointed out each of them in turn. “This is Dr. Paul Binyird and Dr. Mary Delisle. And our hired protection, Glik and Glak.”
Aaron extended his hand and shook each person’s in turn. While Paul forced a very unconvincing fake smile, Mary made no attempt to hide the coldness in her eyes. Aaron wrinkled his nose at her. The mercenaries gave him the same reaction as they did to everyone who was not an employer; no interest whatsoever.
“Sorry to scare you all, gang,” he added with a laugh. “It was cruel and it was heartless and it was immature, and I just couldn’t help it.” He laughed again.
Mary narrowed her eyes to slits. “Cad,” she said simply.
Aaron stared at her for a long time, scrutinizing her like a rare species of butterfly that had been jammed into the grille of his speeder. Yet his gaze was cold and mistrustful, and Mary felt decidedly uncomfortable being observed by this man. She blinked and averted her eyes.
“You guys have just become filthy stinking rich, I presume,” he said, gesturing around at the loot. “I would suggest each of you invest in a Laundromat of some sort.” He looked at everyone more closely. “What’d you do, have a mud fight without me?”
“Er, hello, Dr. LaBarr,” Bryan began uncomfortably. “What brings you here?”
He was hardly happier to see his old acquaintance than the others were to meet a new one. True, Aaron had been the only one to believe that he could find the tomb of Caldwok. He had spent countless hours with him searching the library, combing dusty museum back rooms and pawn shops, breaking into classified government warehouses on several planets, all to find the evidence that would lead to this place. At some point he had disappeared, and left Bryan to sort out the pieces himself. And he had promised someday to return, a promise he had now apparently fulfilled.
But his tasteless introduction, which had not only scared them all out of about ten years of life but was also completely disrespectful to the dead king, had reminded him of another fact, one that had driven him nearly insane during their partnership. Aaron LaBarr was what was known, in social terminology, as a louse. He was arrogant, headstrong, foolish, and he was the sort of person who walked back and forth in front of someone’s house for hours, simply because it annoyed their dogs.
The worst of it, though, was that given these two facts, Bryan had every reason to suspect that Aaron was taking over his find. And he would probably succeed, too. Because although it defied all justice and logic, he seemed to succeed at everything. Bryan had been through too much to let this extraordinary discovery slip through his fingers. He needed to be the one in the spotlight, the one on talk shows, the one selling autographs at exorbitant prices to the fools who had doubted him not long before.
He almost missed Aaron’s response to his question. “They locked me out of my apartment,” he said with a shrug. “So I decided to track you down.”
Bryan raised an eyebrow. “Right when I was making the greatest discovery of the century. Quite a coincidence.”
“Well, I found you three years ago,” Aaron insisted. “But I thought I’d wait until you were doing something exciting. I’m into field work now, bay-beee.” He laughed. “I’m certainly not trying to sell you my services, although they do come cheap these days.”
“They were free in the old days,” Bryan muttered.
“I had a job in the old days,” Aaron pointed out. “Not that I’m complaining. Life’s been sweet and all. You just let me watch, and don’t worry about me taking your precious spotlight.” He grinned, rather cruelly, Bryan thought. And how did he know about that?
There was another concern. “How did you get past the sinking and the crumbling and whatnot?” Bryan demanded.
Aaron stared at him. “It’s not that hard,” he insisted. “Don’t you remember that cryptic clue we found a while back? ‘Press forward with readily changing footsteps, or the earth itself shall be thine fiercest enemy’?”
Bryan could feel a headache coming on.
“I could tell that’s where you had your mud fight,” he added, “and also someone wasn’t too careful with the other bit.” He eyed Mary up and down. “It was her,” he decided. “She matches the hole.”
Mary’s eyes darkened in fury. “Why, you are a –”
“It’s not here,” Paul whined.
Bryan froze in terror, greater by far than that when Aaron had surprised him. “What?” he whispered hoarsely.
Paul raised his voice, and seemed positively peeved now. “I said it’s not here! The bloody coffin isn’t here!”
“It has to be. How far did you look?”
“To the end of the chamber! I’m telling you, it isn’t here!”
Bryan followed him across the chamber, panic mounting in his chest. All of these treasures were nothing, in his mind, compared to the king’s mummy. Aaron followed at a leisurely pace, smirking uncontrollably.
Paul did appear to be correct. There was nothing in the room even remotely resembling a coffin. And Caldwok, having allowed the plunderers of his tomb to come this far, albeit grudgingly, would have wanted them to behold his glory. Subtlety was not an option.
“Heh, check out the mirrors in this place!” Aaron sniffed.
Bryan and Paul both glared at him.
“No seriously, check them out!” And he walked to the nearest one, and pulled it open, much like a medicine cabinet, revealing a dark passage beyond.
Bryan suddenly began to feel queasy, and his headache blossomed into a full-fledged migraine.
Aaron quickly walked through. “Last one in is a rotten egg!” he yelled. “Echo! Echo!”
No one followed for a while. They simply stared, dumbfounded at the task before them. And the louse who had figured it out.
“I don’t like that character at all,” Mary said at last.
“I can hardly blame you,” Bryan sighed. “But he’s right. I hate to admit it, but he’s always right.”
***
As they hurried to catch up to Aaron, Bryan explained, “I should have been expecting this all along. We must prove ourselves worthier still, before we behold the king himself.”
“I vote ‘screw that,’” said Paul sourly. “I’ve had about enough of this bloody tramping around. I can live with the treasure trove back there. I merely pointed out the coffin’s absence as a scientific observation.”
“Amen,” said Mary, not even embarrassed to be agreeing with Paul.
Glik and Glak did not venture an opinion, but it was a point of interest for them to see the greatest historical figure their homeworld had to offer, for the first time in several millennia. It came in second to the treasure, of course, but certainly it would be worth their while.
“Screw whatever you feel like,” Bryan called back. “I’m not leaving until I’ve found it.”
Or until Aaron’s found it, he thought bitterly. He was being pushed back into a supporting role, no more important now than Mary or Paul, playing second-fiddle to this self-absorbed cretin who was still quite a ways ahead of them. The passage had turned out to be a labyrinth, but he ignored the chalk marks that Aaron had left and instead followed the obnoxious humming.
It was the Indiana Jones theme, he realized, although it would take some major repair work to get it back on key. John Williams would do more than turning over in his grave; he’d be liable to up and start a zombie revolt. Still, it also made Bryan realize that nothing exciting was going on, at least in the way of booby traps or men with guns, and for that he was glad. The maze, he realized, was more traditional, and just as effective. It was just as well that no one had previously come this far, or the floor would surely be littered with bones.
Something else nagged at him, though. When they reached Aaron, he demanded, “How do you know which way to go?”
“Easy. There’s a slight incline along all the correct corridors. If you were to straighten them into one long passage, you would find it very steep, for the very good reason that it leads –” he gestured at a square hole cut in the wall, “– to this ventilation shaft. Which would, logically, be somewhere near the coffin.” He shook his head. “It ain’t rocket science.”
Bryan displayed a solitary finger to Aaron’s back. It was not the one way sign.
They came to another door, as simple as the first. Yet something told them that this really was it, this time. And if that something had lied, then something drastic was going to be done by someone.
The room small and made of simple, humble stonework, and somehow didn’t fit the solid gold coffin plopped randomly into the middle of it. It was shaped like an anorexic octagon on steroids, and the lid was decorated with symbols and drawings of every variety imaginable. Bryan did not waste time digging for his translation key, however. That could wait patiently until later, in a proper academic setting. What needed to be done now, was to open it.
Aaron seemed more fascinated, however, with the solitary golden plaque that adorned the far wall. It was about the size of his a conventional grave marker and it, too, had writing. He ran his fingers around one edge, and raised an eyebrow. “Check it out, doc,” he said. “This thing is part of the wall.”
“Never mind that,” said Bryan. “Help us get this.” He and the others were positioned to raise the coffin’s lid. Grudgingly, Aaron came over to join them.
“What about your manicure?” Bryan asked Mary with a wink, noticing that she was going to help.
She winked in return. “It’ll grow back.”
They stressed and strained with its weight. It made the stone at the entrance seem light as a feather. But they all shared Bryan’s energy now, and it was a powerful thing. They made quick progress. Paul even had the energy to inquire, “Why’s it in this dive, and not the treasure room?”
Aaron opened his mouth to answer, and caught himself. He grinned sheepishly at Bryan. “Go ahead, this is your gig,” he said.
Bryan gave him a nod of gratitude. At least he had remembered his place for once. Perhaps he could salvage some spotlight, after all. “This is a treasure room,” he explained. “For the Shindoor’s greatest treasure, and nothing to compete with its glory.”
They finished getting the lid off about then and painstakingly set it down on the floor. Bryan moved his eyes to the gold-plated figure inside.
Transfixed, he reached out to stroke the mummified figure, which looked not a day older than that of its death. It was a stern-faced, handsome man, with the hollow cheekbones and lanky build that characterized natives of Andiron. He wore the royal suit of armor that the king always had, emblazoned with jewels that made the previous ones look like beads. His lips were curled into a defiant smirk.
Bryan stroked it again, not thinking of how wrong this was, only that he wanted to touch this compelling creature. He grasped its head, and slowly raised it from the coffin, so he could look the magnificent king in the eye.
His clouded mind barely registered Aaron yelling, “No!”
Everyone else turned to see the plaque burst several feet through the air, from its snug niche in the stone of the wall. Aaron lunged and caught it, and looked back to where several gallons of water were suddenly pumping through said niche into the chamber. “Let’s go,” he said.
Bryan remained transfixed. Glik and Glak forcibly pried him from the coffin and rushed towards the door. Suddenly realizing what was going on, he screamed and ran back to it. “Cover the body!” he yelled. “Cover the body!”
In an insane and vain effort, he tugged on the coffin lid. Then, realizing all at once the true gravity of the situation, he pulled a plastic poncho from his pocket and draped it over King Caldwok, firmly tucking in the edges, yet knowing it wouldn’t do much good. He could only hope it would weather the storm as it had the years.
They raced through the labyrinth again, glancing quickly at each of Aaron’s chalk marks, and then running like mad to the next junction. The water had already begun to fill it up, and run down the slant to follow them.
“Wait!” Aaron yelled from behind them. “The ventilation shaft, you idiots!” But the current was strong, and there was no turning back. With a shrug, he followed them.
They raced through the treasure room. Glik and Glak paused briefly to fill their pockets with more items, but the water was relentlessly filling up here as well. They exchanged another knowing, conspiratorial glance before they ran to catch up with the others.
Whereas caution had dictated their movements before,
They reached the area atop the stone and golden spinal cord, and desperately crowded onto it. In their panic someone pressed onto a gold vertebra, and the entire structure came collapsing down under them. They landed hard on the door, which had been turned into a platform, which was tipping under its new load. Rock and gold spilled into the darkness below.
“Acid lake or not,” Mary said, scrabbling for a handhold among the rapidly retreating rubble, “I personally think that –”
At about that time the water came rushing down in a torrent upon the other end of it, sending them sprawling in the opposite direction. As the platform began to crumble under all the pressure, everyone managed to grab the lip of the cavity and climb back into dragators mouth
Then they tiptoed cautiously across the crumbly floor, as fast as they dared. Soon they reached the holes left by Mary and Glak’s projectile, and they knew they had almost made it. Then the whole thing became mud, and, too viscous to hold them, suddenly collapsed
Glik and Glak began firing into the hordes of plants that had instantly begun to snap at their tasty new morsels. Aaron lodged the plaque he had salvaged into one’s maw as it lunged for them, and wrenched it back out as he continued to fall. It was all futile, though, they were still going to die when they hit the ground…
But then they noticed the wall in front of them, which was made up of the quickmud and supported that portion of the floor above. Specifically, they noticed it because the water had increased its viscosity as well, and was washing it away, and the whole thing was coming down on top of them. Then they were in it, and then they reached the ground and hit hard, barely cushioned by the mud.
Everyone was as sore now as Paul had been earlier, except for Paul, who was twice as sore now as he had been earlier. But there was no rest for the weary. They were moving, in the opposite direction now, carried by the current. They were being carried into the dried riverbed, and realizing, a bit too late, what it had been dammed up for.
Aaron suddenly got to his feet without any visible struggle. He climbed onto the plaque, carefully centering his weight, to use it as a surfboard. With a grin, he stripped down to a pair of swim trunks and unceremoniously tossed his clothes to a passing plant.
“As the dudes say,” he said, “righteous!”
Then, up ahead, directly in their path, he could see another opening, similar to the ventilation shaft far above. This one, however, was plugged with a stone.
“Hold on,” he said, “Just got a spot of bother with the wall here. I’ll handle it.” He swooped down and grabbed one of the mercenaries’ guns, which they had clung to with all the determination of rigor mortis. He began to aim, struggling to hold it steady as he was rocked by the pounding waves.
Bryan struggled to raise himself, and get a clearer view of what Aaron was talking about. “No, wait!” he cried. “That rock is an artifact!” He realized even as he spoke how foolish he was being, but years of training had inbred this reaction. “Don’t glubglubglub –” he gasped as his strength gave out and he collapsed into the mud. He just had time to hear the gun go off and the rock shatter.
He felt a momentary pang of despair. Although it had blocked their path and threatened their lives, although it was undecorated and boring, it had still been a piece of this archaeological site, and as such it pained him to have it destroyed. But as he coursed through its debris and sailed out into the open air, this feeling quickly gave way to shear terror.
The stone had, indeed, been part of the wall on the surface, which had given way to this whole underground nightmare in the first place. But this part was on the other side of the mountain. Which appeared to be much steeper than the way they had come up.
Time seemed to stand still as they hung above the ground, suspended in a burst of mud. Aaron was on its crest, letting the wind blow his hair back, and apparently loving every minute of it. Then they came down and began sliding again, over rocks, into trees, through anything that was not firmly anchored down. Within seconds, they completed a journey which had taken nearly a day on the way up the other side.
Then the terrain unexpectedly leveled out, and they began to slow down. But they were still going too fast to avoid the herd of large animals directly in front of them.
***
It was a pleasant day for grazing in the grass. The sun did not burn too hard, and the insects that parasitized the beasts were dwindling. Both of these points were controlled in turn by incredibly complex combinations of natural factors, but this particular beast did not care. He simply appreciated them, and gave his undivided attention to seeking out the most succulent weeds and grubs of the jungle plain. He was certainly not alone in this regard.
But another incredibly complex combination of natural factors had given him above-average hearing for his kind, and he was the first to notice the screaming sounds that filled the distant air. He did not recognize the sounds, and turned to pinpoint their location, in case they turned out to be a threat.
He was just as nearsighted as the rest of the herd, unfortunately, but he could not have missed the humongous brown blob that came surging rapidly down the mountain towards them. Seeing this, he felt the first twinge of panic. He did not recognize this either, and had no way of knowing whether it was dangerous. Surely the leader would know, he reasoned. This should be brought to the leader’s attention at once.
He grunted, and several other heads swiveled to look.
***
Aaron could see them clearly, and the others could get enough of a glimpse through their mud-spattered eyelids to see that they resembled orange hippopotami. Glik and Glak knew what they were called, but could see no point in telling the others. Especially when they began to stampede.
Figures, Mary thought to herself. Nothing else had gone right, so why this?
Even at their reduced speed, the group instantly overtook the fleeing beasts. Suddenly they were squirming, thrashing, avoiding the massive hooves that came crashing down at them and threatened to liquefy bone and muscle into a mass of jelly. Pure adrenaline and instinct gave them the necessary reflexes to avoid this fate, but only for a few precious seconds.
Aaron took the challenge in stride, and grabbed some air on his improvised surfboard. He soared over one of the beasts, slipped smoothly under another, and then launched himself from the board and did a cartwheel in the air, landing neatly on it directly in front of a startled behemoth.
“Grab their bellies!” he yelled to his floundering companions. “It works on TV!”
They were all quick to comply, and began hanging on for dear life. A similar jumble of thoughts ran through everyone’s mind, a desperate obsession with survival. No one had expected to end up in this situation when they signed on for the trip. Of course any possibilities had been a given, but this was ridiculous.
The only notable variation was a thought that crossed Mary as she dug her manicured fingernails into thick flesh, namely; that the worst part of this experience was the smell.
Suddenly the beast behind Aaron butted him hard, and sent him flying. He quickly kicked the plaque into his hands and maneuvered himself to land directly on the leader of the herd. From this vantage point, he saw something very disturbing. The plain was about to end at a vertical cliff.
He almost got the special treat of going over it a bit early, as the beast tried to buck him off. He ducked down and grabbed its neck to steady himself, and then carefully lowered his legs over the beast’s sides, so he could dig them into his flanks and determine direction.
“No good, mister!” yelled Glik (or was it Glak?). “The Shias cannot be tamed!”
“Never tell me the facts!” Aaron yelled back. He dug harder and tugged at its neck, directing it sharply to the right. Still, it refused to yield, as the mercenary had warned. The cliff was only a few yards away now.
It was time to try something different. Leaning into its ear, he whispered something, his face showing that whatever it was, he had filled it with conviction and firmness. Within seconds, the entire herd had ground to a halt and begun digging through the mud for some more tasty treats. The mud had calmed a bit now, and came to a stop inched before it would have swept them over the cliff regardless.
Aaron calmly got down and smiled broadly. Only a slight wobble in his step revealed that the ordeal had had any effect. “That,” he said, “was totally EPIC!”
He looked down at the ground hundreds of feet below, and then began to pull out something else. “Who here’s gone rappelling?” he wanted to know. He was met with a chorus of groans. “Just kidding,” he mumbled. “I know you all have though. You’re repulsive enough.”
Nearly unable to stand the pain, which had suddenly increased at the awful pun, Bryan wiped the mud from his eyes with stiff knotted muscles in his arm, and shook it from his ears with the stiff knotted muscles in his neck. As he watched in amazement, Aaron pulled a first aid kit from his pocket (his swim trunk pocket!) and began treating the others. “Cracked ribs,” he would mutter. “There’s a surprise. The rest is all superficial. Suck it up and deal.”
When Aaron reached him, he was incapable of looking at the man, the louse who had saved them all. But he knew he owed an apology. To all of them.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was a real boneheaded dolt back there. I should have been more careful, more alert for the next trap.”
No one else bothered to acknowledge him, but Aaron lifted his chin and gazed into his eyes. His smile was genuine. “Don’t feel so bad,” he said. “It would have happened to any of us. You were simply overcome by greed and lust for power, that’s all. It would have happened to any of us. Although what’s so great about a dead guy compared to all that moola, is beyond me.” He frowned. “Your glasses are gone, dude.”
“I only need them for reading,” said Bryan. Aaron was being incredibly nice, and it was hard to dislike him right at this moment. It wouldn’t hurt to swallow the rest of the pride. “It’s a lucky thing you came along,” he admitted.
“I know. That’s why I did.” Aaron stood up and gazed around. “I think I’ll be in charge from now on, if you don’t mind,” he said. “And I think we should stay here for the night.”
Bryan wholeheartedly agreed, his earlier misgivings about the jungle overshadowed by his need for relaxation. And the fact that he couldn’t get up if he wanted to. “Of course,” he said. He realized he was fighting to stay awake. He decided to give in.
“Hey, one thing,” Glik yelled at him. “The Shias cannot be tamed! How in Grabthar’s name you do that?”
Aaron hesitated, then confided in a low undertone, “Just a little mantra I learned from the Wuzzy monks.”
Bryan quickly caught himself, on the cusp of consciousness. He could not possibly have heard correctly. He wasn’t that old, after all, was he? And hadn’t he cleared all the mud from his ears? He gaped at his former pupil. “You found the Wuzzy monks?” he sputtered.
He thought back to the Wuzzy monks. For a time he had been nearly as obsessed with them as he was now with the Shindoor, but had given up because there simply was no evidence for their existence. But he had told Aaron of them, late at night, of the legend, the bedtime story that they were.
“Wuzzy monks” was an affectionate nickname for the members of the Brotherhood of Chao Ling Lee, who lived in a temple atop Mount Chang-Chong-Chek on an unspecified distant planet. They had formed eons ago and supposedly still operated, somewhere, learning skills both physically and intellectually, combating the forces of evil with everything they could possibly muster.
Their culture, obviously, had developed many parallels with that of ancient China, Japan, Tibet and Korea on Earth, which was one reason why most scholars chose to disbelieve their existence. As Bryan had found, their was no evidence to support it either, and the legends had obviously spread through word of mouth, from some unspecified point in the past, when someone had obviously made it up, thinking it to be a good story. It had probably not even started out as being a distant planet, he had reasoned. Presumably it was about some vague Oriental location by some ignorant Westerners, and was simply adapted for the space age.
And now here was this louse, his former student, implying that he had found it and reached enlightenment first.
“Yeah,” he was saying, “yeah. It was really something.”
“Where is it?” Bryan wanted to know. Desperately. The feeling was in his veins once again; already thoughts of King Caldwok faded into obscurity. This would arguably make an even greater discovery, and hopefully wouldn’t cover him with mud in the process.
“I swore an oath, I can’t tell you,” said Aaron. “You know me, don’t you think I would have rushed to the media and gotten the paychecks? You wouldn’t like it anyway, old man. It’s a real doozy of a hike. And then they’ve got booby traps to test your worthiness.”
Bryan groaned. He’d had about all he could take. On both counts.
“They taught me a lot,” Aaron continued. “Of course I never quite finished my training. I wasn’t quite worthy. But I made it pretty far.”
And thus, Bryan thought as he lapsed into unconsciousness, did the pupil surpass the teacher.
***
Night fell quickly in the jungle. It was a cool humid one, preventing the mud from completely drying on to them, which was fortunate because otherwise they certainly would have become trapped. In addition to insulating them from the temperature, it also protected from the bugs which were now coming out in full force. Everyone slept, exhausted from the ordeal, even Glik and Glak who were supposed to be protecting them; everyone except for Aaron.
Away from the group, he poked at his campfire with a large stick. He was probably much more tired and bruised from the adventure than he let on, but much too excited to sleep. The old man’s obsession was becoming his, now. Not to the extent that it clouded his judgment, of course, but just as intense in its own way. It reached its peak when he thought of that piece of knowledge he held, that no one else had figured out. It pleased him to be on top.
Suddenly there was a crunch of sticks on the ground, and he spun around, ready to defend the campsite. It was not a predator, though, it was Mary Delisle.
“Hi,” she said weakly. She sat down on the log next to him.
“Hi,” he repeated.
They sat there in silence, staring into the fire for several minutes. Finally she said, “I guess this is kind of weird, but I always wake up, around three in the morning, and then go back to sleep.” She shrugged sheepishly.
Aaron shrugged too. “Not weird at all,” he said. “Happens to a lot of us.”
“I have to admit,” she went on after a few more minutes, “when you first showed up back there, I hated your guts. But I’m glad you came now.”
Aaron laughed a little. “Something inside told me I should be there,” he confessed.
“The Wuzzy monk training?” Her voice was full of awed reverence.
“Maybe.” Aaron suddenly tired of poking the fire, and threw his stick into it. He watched it burn for several more minutes. His eyes flickered to the sparks, as they ascended into the sky, through the trees, where they concealed themselves amongst the few stars that shone through the canopy, and finally flickered out.
Then he turned to Mary. She looked absolutely stunning in the firelight. And somehow younger, more vulnerable, like a child. Her lips were accentuated by the golden glow, and seemed as if they were begging to be kissed.
Well, he couldn’t let them down, could he? Cautiously, he slipped his arm around her. She looked at him curiously, but did not resist. He leaned in closer.
Mary realized what was happening. Oh man, he’s going to kiss me, she thought. And she didn’t know what to think about that. It was certainly the right atmosphere, certainly the right situation, but she couldn’t be sure that it was the right guy. Still, he had saved her life, and Glik and Glak had each received kisses for doing the same. And he did have nice eyes, after all. So she leaned in towards him as well.
Aaron could smell the perfume she had put on before bed, that expensive substance from Voltran she adored, and breathed deeply. What he got was a nose full of smoke.
“Gak!” Coughing and spluttering, they quickly moved around to the other side of the fire, which now seemed to be crackling and wavering in deliberate mockery. Of course. It hadn’t happened yet, so why not now, at the worst possible time?
They repositioned themselves and began again. Mary tried to recapture the original feeling of the moment. It was difficult, but they seemed to be managing.
***
Too tired and fed up to argue, they followed him back to the small outpost where their journey had begun. It was, to quote the age-old cliché, a “wretched hive of scum and villainy.” There was no fervor, however, no zest, as if the stifling boredom had gotten to its few inhabitants; and they pursued their scummy villainous tasks with a marked lack of enthusiasm. It was only a matter of time before anyone here went mad, and suddenly gained enthusiasm, albeit for decidedly different tasks, before they wound up in the city’s bulging sanatorium, a.k.a. prison. Here they would waste away and die, although the process was certainly a refreshing change from the tedium of regular daily life.
The group was slightly cheered up to see that their ship, on loan from the university, had not been stolen or stripped of its vital parts. Evidently the third mercenary, who was sleeping in its shade right now, had done his job well. He cautiously opened one eye as Bryan rushed to the ship and firmly kissed it.
“Thanks a mil, Glok, this is a sight I’d have killed to see by now,” he said. “How much do I owe you?”
“Guhhh…” Glok said groggily.
“Here, take it all,” said Bryan, emptying the contents of his wallet. He looked at the ship again and smiled. In his enthusiasm to see it again, he had momentarily forgotten that he still had two more mercenaries to pay. Had he remembered then, it would have been too late, for Glok had already left for the nearest bar, to buy a round for all his friends and spend the rest of the day unconscious.
Oblivious to this turn of events, Bryan started beaming at his companions. “We’re alive,” he confirmed. “Everything hurts, but we’re alive.”
“Indeed,” said Paul absently. “We’re very fortunate to have made it out. And now,” he continued gravely, as he and Mary pulled out guns from within their safari jackets and swiftly aimed them at Bryan and Aaron, “it is time for you to leave.”
Next: Chapter Three (Unfinished)
