by S. A. Beck
There was a pause, then Dr. Yamazaki replied, “Agreed.”
“Agreed,” came Trisha’s voice from the other Land Rover. “That place the griot mentioned called Sheikh ibn Tulun isn’t even on the map. So I guess this is the last outpost of civilization.”
Araouane certainly looked the part. Situated in a little bowl of a valley amid bleak sand dunes, it was a cluster of about fifty squat concrete buildings. They all looked identical except for a whitewashed little mosque that shone so brightly in the sun it hurt to look at it.
They drove through the cluster of buildings set every which way with no real streets between them, just open dusty space, found the gas station, and parked in front of the gas pumps. The station was a larger building that also had a mechanics shop. Atop it stood a tall radio antenna. Yuhle looked at it suspiciously.
“What if the local police take notice of us and radio back to Timbuktu?” the geneticist asked.
“In this dump there probably aren’t any local police,” Otto said.
“There are always local police, honey,” Vivian said. “But one of those Atlanteans said he could take care of it.”
“Which one, Winston?” Jaxon asked.
“Is that the British guy?”
“Yes.”
“That’s the one.”
Jaxon grinned. “Then I think we’ll be all right. Just sit back and watch some Atlantean magic.”
“There’s no such thing as magic,” Dr. Yamazaki said.
“Then explain what happens next.”
Already a few people had begun to gather. Jaxon suspected that vehicles pulling up at the gas station was the only type of entertainment they got here. And when those vehicles were full of Westerners and People of the Sea, it was like a New Year’s Eve party.
The novelty of seeing so many strange faces didn’t make the locals forget the reason for their town’s existence, however. Several men, women, and children hurried over with baskets filled with water bottles and packets of biscuits. While nobody really needed any more supplies, several people, Jaxon included, bought a few things just to be friendly. This place was the only inhabited spot worth stopping in for a hundred miles in either direction, and if it wasn’t for the faint track through the desert that the occasional truck passed along, it would cease to exist.
Trisha used her Arabic to get some gas, and they had barely started to fill up the tanks when a couple of cops broke through the circle of onlookers. Everybody in the Atlantis Allegiance tensed.
“I hope you speak Arabic too, Winston, because you’re going to need it,” Jaxon whispered.
The Englishman only smiled. “I communicate in a different way.”
The two policemen carried AK-47s like most of their compatriots, and they looked at the newcomers with open suspicion. Winston walked up to them, holding out a pack of cigarettes.
One of the policemen barked out a question.
“Would you like a cigarette?” Winston said in a friendly, soothing voice. “Of course you would. Both of you would. A nice, relaxing cigarette. Nothing like a good smoke, eh? Here you go.”
The two cops stared at the packet of cigarettes, which Winston waved back and forth in a slow, steady motion.
“Here you go, it’s all right. Have a smoke.”
The cops’ eyes hooded. They both took a cigarette. Winston lighted them, and the two officers sauntered away. The crowd looked on in confusion.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Grunt said. “You should work for the tobacco industry.”
“A vile habit. I only carry cigarettes because they make a good prop. Half the people here probably think I slipped them some money.”
As they finished filling up, Jaxon looked around her. From where she stood she could see half the town, all ugly concrete buildings that looked more like bunkers than homes. Beyond lay only sand dunes. Then she looked at the people, aged early by the harsh desert, and yet bearing themselves with pride.
“You know, we have it really easy in the States,” Jaxon said.
Otto nodded. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”
Once they filled the tanks, they didn’t waste any time. Within a minute they had passed the last of the houses and were back in the open desert. Araouane vanished like it never existed.
“I talked with a couple of the locals,” Trisha said over the walkie talkie. “They haven’t seen any other foreigners in months.”
“So we’re ahead of the Russians,” Otto said. “That’s a relief.”
“Either that or they went around Araouane and are ahead of us,” Grunt said.
Grunt was proven right just a few miles further on.
Jaxon saw the attack a second before it happened.
There was a glint of sunlight on metal from a flat, open area to their right. An instant later there was a red flash. A blur cut across their front and slammed into the Atlantean Land Rover at the head of their column. The Land Rover exploded, flying to the left and overturning. Jaxon screamed.
Grunt yanked on the wheel and swerved to the right. A couple of bullets thunked into the vehicle. Jaxon couldn’t see where they came from. As Yuhle and Otto hunkered down on the floor, Jaxon looked behind them to see what was happening with Dr. Yamazaki and Vivian. Their Land Rover swerved too, Dr. Yamazaki expertly cutting off the track and heading for the cover of some dunes half a kilometer to their right. But they couldn’t outrun the ambush. Jaxon looked desperately at them as she saw a line of bullet holes suddenly appear on the side of the vehicle. Dr. Yamazaki seemed to lose control. The Land Rover moved erratically, beginning to slow.
Another flash and a another blur. It roared right past them and exploded a few meters in front of Dr. Yamazaki and Vivian’s Land Rover. The shockwave made the vehicle lurch and grind to a halt.
Grunt slammed on the gas and sped away.
“Wait!” Jaxon cried. “We have to go back and get them!”
“We have to save ourselves and take out that Russian with the rocket propelled grenade first,” Grunt said, making for a cluster of boulders not far ahead. Bullets spat up plumes of sand all around them.
Grunt screeched to a halt just behind the rocks, which were big enough to hide the Land Rover from view. Grabbing his sniper’s rifle, he leaped out of the Land Rover. Otto came right behind him with an AK-47. Within a second they had taken up positions on the rock, firing away at the unseen enemy. As Yuhle tried to get their companions on the radio, Jaxon grabbed a pair of binoculars to watch the fight.
First she trained them on the two Land Rovers. The one owned by the Atlantis Guard lay on its side, smoking. She could see no one around it. When she turned to look at the one with Dr. Yamazaki and Vivian, she saw it parked with its doors open while a dark silhouetted figure dragged another figure away.
The crack of a bullet hitting the rock near her made her duck. She had barely heard it over the roar of Otto’s AK-47 and the steady fire of Grunt’s sniper’s rifle. How many other bullets had come close that she hadn’t heard?
The gunfire died down as Otto ran out of ammunition. Cursing, he fumbled to get the magazine out and replace it with a fresh one.
“Save your ammo, pyro,” Grunt said. He paused to take another shot, then added, “Switch to single shots. Full auto at this range won’t hit a damn thing.”
Jaxon moved to a narrow fissure between two rocks and peeked through with the binoculars just in time to see another flash.
“Incoming!” Grunt shouted. Jaxon and Otto hit the dirt.
Grunt did not. He took another shot an instant before the rocket propelled grenade hit. The explosion jabbed into Jaxon’s ears. She watched in horror as Grunt flew backwards to land on his back a few feet away.
“No!” Otto shouted, leaping up and running to him.
Grunt lay slack in his arms. Tears ran down Otto’s cheeks. “You can’t die!”
Grunt opened his eyes. “Oh yes I can, but not today.”
The mercenary struggled to his feet and smacked Otto on the back o
f the head. “Quiet blubbering and get back into position.”
Otto grinned, grabbed his gun, and hurried to do what he was told.
“Boys will be boys,” Jaxon mumbled, returning to her spot with her binoculars.
She scanned the barren stretch of desert. A couple of figures lay in the sand, not moving. Then she focused on where the RPG had been firing from. She saw the Russians had dug a narrow trench in the sand. It was hard to see even with the binoculars and would have been all but invisible to the casual glance while driving by. In fact, Jaxon had been looking right at it and didn’t see a thing until just before the guy fired.
He wasn’t firing now. He lay half out of the trench, sprawled in an unnatural position, his rocket launcher still gripped in his dead fingers. Jaxon shuddered.
Then she realized why Grunt hadn’t taken cover. When the Russian exposed himself to fire, Grunt used the opportunity to shoot him at the risk of his own life.
Bang. Grunt’s gun fired again. A distant figure pirouetted and fell. Bang. He continued firing with ruthless efficiency.
Jaxon turned back to look at Dr. Yamazaki and Vivian. For a panicked moment she couldn’t locate them, then spotted the flare of a gun muzzle from behind a low dune. So it was Vivian who was OK and the geneticist who was hurt. More fire came from her position as Otto started firing again and even Yuhle picked up a gun and joined in.
“How are going to hit anything wearing those broken glasses?” Grunt asked.
“More bullets going in their direction can’t be a bad thing,” Yuhle replied.
“Very scientific reasoning, doc,” Grunt said and laughed.
But the gunfight didn’t last much longer. One by one the Russians got picked off. With the expert shooting of the two mercenaries they didn’t have much of a chance. As far as Jaxon could tell, Otto and Yuhle just filled the air with pointless bullets. Not that she was going to complain. Her mind was too occupied wondering how the others were faring.
As soon as Grunt called the all clear, she sprinted for Vivian and Dr. Yamazaki’s position.
“You okay?” she called as she sped over to them. To her profound relief she saw Dr. Yamazaki sitting on the sand, tying up a wound on her thigh. Her face was etched with pain but the wound didn’t look serious. Without slowing, Jaxon veered off and picked up speed, running for the overturned Land Rover.
What she saw there made her want to keep on running until she got a thousand miles away.
Mateo stood guard with a rifle while Elaine, bleeding from a nasty gash to her forehead, bent over Winston. He was covered with blood and one arm had nearly been severed from his body. Jaxon brought her hand to her mouth and backed up a step.
Elaine’s face set in deep concentration. She laid her hands on Winston’s arm and let out a long, slow, deep breath.
Then something remarkable happened. In front of her eyes, Jaxon saw the wound heal, the muscles and bones and ligaments knit back together, and the arm become whole again. Elaine passed her hands over a deep cut in Winston’s side, and then another along his thigh. Both of those healed up within a second.
Once she was done, Elaine let out a ragged cry and toppled over. Jaxon rushed to her.
“Are you all right?”
“It takes a lot out of me,” Elaine whispered.
“Where’s Trisha?” Jaxon asked, looking at the overturned Land Rover.
“Don’t look in there,” Mateo said.
Jaxon felt a queasy feeling in her stomach. “Is she … ?”
“There are wounds even I can’t heal,” Elaine whimpered.
“Dr. Yamazaki is injured,” Jaxon said.
“She’s too tired to heal anyone else,” Mateo said. Winston groaned and began to stir. Elaine struggled to her feet.
“Take me to her.”
Jaxon picked her up and hurried over with her. Despite being her size, with Jaxon’s strength it took no more effort than a regular human carrying a large bag of groceries, and she ran as fast an an Olympic sprinter.
“Let me see that,” Elaine said as Jaxon laid her down next to the geneticist.
The Atlantean took off the bandage.
“A clean wound. The bullet went right through and didn’t hit the bone. This won’t take much energy.”
She pressed her hand against the wound. Yamazaki breathed a sigh of relief as the wound healed up.
Dr. Yamazaki smiled. “That’s the second time you folks have healed me.”
To Jaxon’s surprise, Elaine gave her a hard look. “I’m doing this because you’re out here trying to help. But we know all about Project Poseidon.”
Dr. Yamazaki grew serious. “I didn’t know General Meade would turn it to his own uses. Yuhle and I started it with the best of intentions.”
Elaine snorted and sat down. She looked equal parts angry and exhausted.
“Humans and their good intentions,” she muttered.
“Aren’t you going to heal your own cut?” Jaxon asked.
Elaine gave a bitter smile. “It’s a limitation to my power. I can’t heal myself. Not sure why. I guess it’s because I transfer my energy to the patient. That’s why I feel so tired after healing. I guess can’t use my own energy to heal my own wounds.”
“Allow me,” Dr. Yamazaki said, picking up the medical case she had used on herself.
Elaine didn’t look at her as the geneticist cleaned the wound, daubed it with iodine, and put a large bandage on it.
Grunt and Yuhle came over.
“We have a healer in the group,” Dr. Yamazaki told him. “But she can’t heal herself so protecting her is top priority.”
“Protecting Jaxon is top priority,” Elaine corrected her.
“Agreed,” Grunt said. “Glad to have you on board, Elaine.”
Elaine didn’t look at him either.
Jaxon suddenly noticed Otto wasn’t there. “Where’s Otto?”
“Back by the rocks.”
Jaxon hurried back to him. She wanted to double check he was okay.
He wasn’t. Jaxon found him bent double behind the Land Rover, throwing up his breakfast. Jaxon knelt down by him and rubbed his back.
“What happened?”
Otto didn’t answer for a moment. His hands trembled.
“I … I think I got one.”
“What?”
“One of the Russians. I think I hit one.”
“Oh, Otto.”
She didn’t know what to say beyond that. She had always teased him about emulating Grunt, always laughed about how he was so eager for target practice and swaggered around with his gun. He sure wasn’t swaggering now.
“We had to do it,” he said, spitting out the last of the bile. “It was them or us, right? That’s how it’s supposed to work. You’re not supposed to feel bad afterwards. I mean, he was trying to kill me. He was trying to kill you. And until you showed up I was crying like a baby.”
He started crying again. Jaxon hugged him.
“I bet Grunt feels bad afterwards.”
“Him? That guy is made of concrete,” Otto sniffled.
“No he isn’t. He cares about you. And I know you care about him.”
“I … I don’t think I can face another firefight again.”
“No one’s asking you to.”
“Yeah, tell that to all the people trying to kill us.”
Jaxon didn’t have a response to that.
Mateo called over.
“We have to get the gear together and get out of here. We may be in the middle of nowhere, but that doesn’t mean nobody saw. And there may be more Russians on our tail.”
Otto picked himself up.
“Back to work,” he sighed, then looked at Jaxon. “Don’t tell Grunt.”
She put a hand on his shoulder. “I won’t, but you should.”
Otto shook his head. He put the guns in the Land Rover and they drove over to the others.
They hurriedly assembled all their gear. Dr. Yamazaki changed a tire that had gotten shot out and Grun
t checked the two vehicles to make sure there was no other damage. Vivian went around the battlefield retrieving any useful items from the dead Russians, coming back with the rocket propelled grenade and a load of other weapons. The Atlantis Guard recovered whatever gear they could salvage from the wreck of their own Land Rover and shifted it over to the other two vehicles.
“I saw Land Rover take a direct hit,” Jaxon said to Mateo. “I’m amazed that rocket didn’t tear it apart.”
“It’s an armored one,” he replied. “Reinforced steel plates on the sides and ends, plus bulletproof glass. We bought it here. Good thing we did or we’d all be dead.”
The Atlanteans wrapped Trisha up in a blanket, dug a hurried grave, and put her inside. As everyone stood around it, heads bowed, Winston spoke.
“Trisha Alverson was a good woman and a strong fighter for our cause. Always generous, always welcoming, she raised two Atlantean orphans like they were her own children. Those children are now orphans once again. They will be taken care of by our community but they will never get over this loss. Nor shall we. But we must move on. The freedom of our people is too important for us to lose our resolve when one of us falls. She will be remembered.”
“She will be remembered,” the Atlanteans said together.
“She will be remembered,” Jaxon repeated. Through the tears welling in her eyes she could see a spreading bloodstain on the blanket.
The Atlantis Guard covered the grave up with sand and in silence they all crowded into the two remaining Land Rovers.
The rest of the route passed without incident. They skirted by the village of Sheikh ibn Tulun without stopping. It was a sand-swept cluster of tents and a few concrete buildings. A couple of acres of palm trees and some stubble of grass showed the few dozen villagers had a well. Jaxon was glad to see no radio tower. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to live in such isolation.
Boring, but more peaceful than anything I’ve ever had, she mused.
“We should be getting close,” Yuhle said, squinting at a topo map. “Your friend’s description was vague, but the way the terrain is laid out here, the old trade route should have gone straight ahead. See how the land gets rough to either side? The best route is straight to the north.”
