by S. A. Beck
Jaxon thought for a moment. “The Gambia is just a thin little bit of land on either side of the river. I looked at the map and there’s a road along the river that goes the entire length of the country. This is the perfect place to start looking for our people. If we drive up that road, I’ll sense every Atlantean in the country.”
Mateo nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Then we have to figure out what country to do next.”
“We’ll do them one by one until we’ve contacted all of our people.”
Mateo grinned. “You’re more patient than I am.”
Jaxon smiled back at him. Yes, even with the pendant, it would take years to go to every country and contact everyone. It would take a lifetime.
A lifetime with purpose. A lifetime of doing something important for the community of which she was a part. That’s what she had been missing growing up.
Now she had it.
The Land Rover drove out of the airport parking lot, heading for the main highway. Even though she would miss the people she had left behind in the terminal, she did not look back.
Se had too much to look forward to.
Chapter 20
Six months later in Los Angeles, California …
* * *
Dr. Yamazaki stared at the DNA sequence on her screen, trying to puzzle out a recessive trait she had recently isolated. Every few seconds she looked out her office window at the grassy quad in the biotech section of UCLA, the bright California sun blazing on the neatly manicured grass and modernist sculptures. Beyond the quad stood the glass and steel buildings of the chemistry and botany departments.
She couldn’t concentrate.
Dr. Yamazaki glanced at her screen again, trying to tease out the details of the chromosomes, and found her eyes straying back to the quad.
She had been here four months, with a prominent post at the genetics department and some promising research, but she found her mind always straying back to other places, other times.
The bright sun and blue skies reminded her of the North African desert, although they were a pale reflection of that blinding canopy under which she had enjoyed the adventure of her life. She fiddled with a rock she had on her desk. Just a bit of black basalt, nothing special, but she had picked it up in that old fort and put it in her pocket. It had never been far from her since.
Of course she had been keeping track of developments, and trading emails on the Dark Web with other former members of the Atlantis Allegiance, but it wasn’t the same. She had gone back to being the same meticulous, quiet scientist she had been before this whole thing began.
None of her new colleagues had any idea that she had once jumped a Saharan wadi with the Mauritanian police on her tail, or that she had helped excavate archaeological sites from the lost continent of Atlantis. None of her new colleagues had any idea that she had, for a brief period of time, been a heroine.
It scared her, a bit, how quickly she had fallen back into her old life. How quickly she had become normal again. But her memories of that other life weren’t really what kept her from her work that day.
It was the knowledge that she was going to get a visitor.
After another hour of sitting in front of the computer and not getting any work done, he finally came.
A knock on the door, and her shy, unassuming colleague came through the door.
Yuhle looked different. It took a moment to figure out what had changed.
Actually, three things.
First, he had a look of intensity on his face, a determination that had so rarely shown itself even in the toughest times. He had always been the quiet one, maintaining his cool when times were toughest, getting by with gentle persistence. He did not look like that now.
He had also changed physically. Yuhle had been soft before, the typical science nerd, although the desert had hardened him. To her surprise, he had hardened even more. He was obviously spending as much time in the gym as the lab.
“What happened to your glasses?” Dr. Yamazaki asked, pointing out the least important change about him.
Yuhle laughed, but not his usual self-depreciating laugh. It was more casual.
“Those? I got contact lenses. Those glasses never fit me anyway.”
“So how is Berkeley working out for you?”
“San Francisco is great. I love the beach, although really I should be so sick of sand that I should move to Ireland for the rest of my life. The institute has been really supportive. I’m getting good funding for my research, and this time there aren’t any high-level government conspiracies to stand in my way.”
“You know you’re always welcome here. I’m heading my own research project and I could really use your help.”
“Well,” at this point Yuhle put his finger on the bridge of his nose as if adjusting his now vanished pair of glasses, “I prefer to have my own place these days. You see, Akiko, I think it’s best if we aren’t working together.”
Yamazaki’s felt a flush go over her. “Really? I always thought we worked well together.”
“We did,” he replied, almost touching the bridge of his nose again but stopping himself at the last moment. “I just think we need to move on.”
“Oh.”
Yamazaki’s gaze strayed out the window. She struggled to find the words. Yuhle saved her by going on.
“What I’m trying to say is that I think it’s best if we are free from the constraints of university rules.”
Yamazaki’s gaze flicked back to him. Briefly their eyes met. Yuhle looked away first.
“Is that from the fort?” he said, looking at her desk.
“Yes.”
“I picked up some sand from Mauritania,” he said, meeting her eye again.
There was a long pause. This time Yamazaki looked away first.
“What I mean to say … ” Yuhle started, then took a few seconds to collect himself. “What I mean to say is that we shouldn’t be constrained by university rules about personal life.”
Yamazaki’s breath caught. She tried to speak and couldn’t. Her old coworker seemed to be having the same problem. At last Yamazaki summoned the words.
“You mean you want to work in separate institutes so we can … ”
She didn’t have the courage to finish her sentence, but she did have the courage to get out of her seat and take the two steps to cross her office to stop right in front of him.
And Yuhle had the courage to kiss her.
* * *
… and in Rabat, Morocco …
* * *
The peace negotiations were almost finished. Agerzam and Daouda Ndiaye, representing the Tuaregs and the People of the Sea, had finally come to terms with the government of Mauritania, with the help of the governments of Morocco and the United States, both of which wanted to see stability in the region. As the delegates gathered their papers at the end of a hard day’s work, everyone seemed buoyed up by optimism for the future. Once the treaty was finalized tomorrow, the Tuaregs and the People of the Sea would have equal rights in Mauritania, guaranteed by a new constitution and overseen by a United Nations task force.
Vivian smiled at Agerzam. She had become his partner, both at the negotiating table and in other places. She had discovered she had a talent for negotiation and smoothing out the tricky details of legal treaties. Some of the United Nations delegates had already suggested she might find work in their organization.
She had told them she would consider it. While life as a mercenary had been fun, she had learned that there were other ways to solve the world’s problems.
Of course you couldn’t make the world perfect, she reminded herself as former Vice President Salek crossed the room to shake their hands. He was now President Salek, raised to power after a palace coup and now the ruler of Mauritania. The old trickster had managed to cover up all participation in the plot with General Corbin.
Now he was all smiles.
“I am so glad we have come to this agreement,” he said, shaking each of their ha
nds in turn. “I predict a bright future for our people.”
“There will be if next year’s elections come off as planned,” Vivian said.
“Of course! It is my most cherished dream to see full, true democracy restored after the terrible events of the past year,” the new president said.
Agerzam managed to smile, as did Daouda Ndiaye. They both knew that Salek would run for reelection and could get more votes than any candidate they could put forward. He’d become quite popular both at home and abroad, with the reputation as a peacemaker and moderate. He’d pardoned the prison commandant and his men, gotten millions in foreign aid, much of it for the important voting bloc of the military, and brought renewed stability to the nation by agreeing to a ceasefire and peace talks.
And of course he had made sure everyone knew about it.
Vivian wanted to wash her hand after shaking his.
After a few more pointless pleasantries, they headed out the door and back to their own private offices. The griot said he was tired and wanted to rest, and the various assistants scurried off to their own work, so soon Agerzam and Vivian were alone.
“Ugh! I can’t stand that guy,” Vivian said. “Can you believe he’s the president now?”
Agerzam let out a weary chuckle. “I’m surprised he didn’t become president sooner. I’m afraid we’re stuck with him.”
“We can’t trust him.”
“We can trust his greed. Daouda Ndiaye says he is like a blade of grass, blowing with the wind. He can survive the storms of the desert much better than a hard branch that will not bend ad only ends up breaking in the wind. Salek is getting everything he wants—power, prominence, wealth, a place in the history books … ”
“ … and immunity from prosecution,” Vivian finished his sentence.
Agerzam shrugged. “No one is even trying to prosecute him. He covers his tracks better than a Tuareg warrior being chased by enemies.”
Vivian shook her head and Agerzam ran his fingers through her blonde tresses.
“I still think it’s a shame we have to grin and work with that guy, pretending everything is all right,” Vivian grumbled.
“We could have far worse, and we have had far worse. Right now Salek’s best interests happen to coincide with ours. In time he will see a country at peace is more prosperous than a country suffering from civil war. That will line his own pockets and make him more popular with the common people. I suspect he will win many elections.”
Vivian gave him a hug. “You’re the real winner, you and Daouda Ndiaye. You’ve brought peace and equal rights to your people.”
Agerzam returned her hug, then held her at arm’s length and studied her face.
“I have heard those UN delegates speaking to you about a job in Washington. Are you going to accept?”
“Do you want me to?”
“No.”
“Then what will I do for work? I’m tired of being a mercenary.”
“The Tuaregs will need an ambassador at the UN. That position must go to a Tuareg, of course, but the ambassador could use an experienced Westerner who has seen so much of the world and has a talent for negotiation.”
“But I’m not a Mauritanian citizen.”
A slow smile spread across Agerzam’s face. “That can be solved quite easily.”
Vivian smiled back at him. “Then I accept.”
* * *
… and in the Sonora Desert, Arizona …
* * *
Otto pounded the last of the fence posts into the hard Arizona earth and wiped his brow. He’d finally finished. Once he placed the horizontal rails in place, they’d have a new corral for the horses.
He paused for a moment, looking out over the beautiful Sonora desert with its red rocks and mesquite trees, its rough mountains and tall cacti that looked like green men standing at attention. This was the kind of desert he could grow to love. It wasn’t dead like the Sahara, but remarkably alive. He spotted a rabbit scampering through the underbrush, and at night he could hear the coyotes howl from the nearby peaks.
It was a peaceful place to live, the first peaceful place he ever had.
“Hey, pyro!” Grunt bellowed from the barn that stood behind the little ranch house a couple of hundred yards from where Otto worked. “You want to go riding or do you want to set fire to the desert?”
Well, mostly peaceful.
“I pick riding,” Otto called back.
“Good choice. I’ll get the horses.”
“I’ll help.”
Otto climbed the low hill to the barn, to find Grunt inside already saddling the two mares he had purchased along with the house. Grunt had saved up a lot of money during his career as a mercenary and he now had his dream home.
“You going to apply at University of Arizona?” Grunt asked.
“Tomorrow,” Otto said with a nod. Tucson was only half an hour’s drive away over the mountains through Starr Pass Trail.
“Figured out what you are going to major in?” Grunt asked as he cinched up the saddle strap. Otto got a saddle and put it on the other horse.
“Archaeology.”
Grunt inclined his head. “Never took you for the academic type.”
“I never was until I found out history could be so interesting.”
They rode out of the barn together.
Grunt asked, “You thinking of helping out the Atlantis Guard with their excavations? Of maybe getting back together with Jaxon?”
Otto laughed and shook his head. “They don’t need my help, and as for Jaxon, I think she’s got her own future to think about.”
“You came along at the right time for her.”
“I suppose, but that time had passed. I hope I gave her a little bit of confidence.”
“You did.”
They headed out onto a narrow trail through the prickly pear and agave.
“I was her first boyfriend, you know. First kiss, even.”
Grunt looked sidelong at him. “First anything else?”
“No.”
Grunt nodded. “That’s probably for the best.”
“Yeah,” Otto sighed. “I miss her sometimes, though. I miss all of them.”
“So do I, pyro. But that’s how life is, you gotta appreciate the people you have while you have them.”
They headed up a faint trail that led up a nearby hill. A mile beyond lay a narrow canyon with some beautifully striated red and yellow rock layers and towering spires. It was one of their favorite places to ride.
“So what are you going to do?” Otto asked. “You’ll get bored sitting in the desert all day.”
“A little bit of boredom would do me some good right about now. I’ve been shooting up the bad guys for so long, I’m sick of it. I’m never going to be a mercenary again.”
Otto laughed.
“Oh, is that why we have a small arsenal hidden under the barn?”
Grunt grinned. “Life insurance, pyro. You never know what the world might throw at you.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Grunt surveyed the land around him as they came to the crest of the hill. The canyon lay past a wide flat area cut by a couple of arroyos. “Ranching. Maybe I’ll take up ranching. This part would be good grazing ground. It’s pretty well-watered.”
“That will take a lot of work. I’ll help out after class and on weekends.”
“Yeah, when you’re not catting around with those co-eds! It’s OK, pyro, it will be fun to build something for a change.”
“Well if you want to do it all by yourself I can get a part-time job in town, help pay for expenses.”
Grunt punched him in the shoulder. “You don’t have to pay to live in your own house, son.”
Otto smiled back at him. “Thanks, dad.”
* * *
… and in the Bahamas …
* * *
Jaxon Ares Anderson lay on a beach towel spread across the brilliant white sand of a Caribbean beach, the sun bathing her closed eyelids with warmth. Aft
er she had left the Sahara she had sworn she would never step on sand again, but she could make an exception for this.
In the past six months she and the Atlantis Guard had visited ten countries, going to every continent except Antarctica. They had journeyed as far south as the southern tip of Chile and as far north as Iceland, connecting with her people. With the Atlantean artifacts they had uncovered it proved easy. She knew where all the Altanteans were in a region even before the plane landed. They found families and even small communities here and there, but mostly they found lone individuals, people as ignorant of their past as she had once been. And now they were all learning, and all getting in touch with one another.
The Caribbean was their current stop. It had been a trading outpost in ancient times and there were still many Atlanteans here, but Jaxon was in no hurry to find them. She deserved a break for a few days.
Besides, she had plenty of company already.
The Atlantis Guard had grown. In nearly every country they visited, they found people who wanted to join them in their travels and help find other lost members of their community. Some were computer experts who set up secure servers so Atlanteans in different countries could talk to one another. Others were healers, or specialists in ancient history. They had found several more inscriptions and a team was busy piecing the ancient Atlantean language back together. They hoped to crack the code by the end of the year.
She opened her eyes and looked at the beach around her. More than twenty of her people lay nearby or splashed in the water. Elaine lay next to her. They had become close in the past few months and Jaxon was beginning to look at her more like an aunt or a big sister than a friend. She needed someone like that. Winston lay not far off, his calm words had been a great reassurance to her during the trip. Mateo and Orion played volleyball a little way down the beach. They had become good friends.
It had been a wonderful trip, and it would continue for years to come. She didn’t mind not having a place to call home. She had been moved around all her life. The difference was that now she took her home with her, and belonged wherever she went.
