Escaped

by Gary Urey

  Gita thought of her mother who lived in Portland, Oregon. The last time she had spoken with her was over two years ago right before joining the Antakaale. She had been fourteen weeks pregnant with Catalina. Her mother had been so excited to find out she was going to be a grandmother. The impulse to pick up a phone and check on her was overwhelming, but she knew that would not happen.

  “Another one!” Pavana screeched.

  “What is it?” Gita wondered.

  “They’ve just reported a tsunami in Pakistan along the Makran Coast. Hundreds are presumed dead.”

  Gita shook her head in disgust at Pavana’s excitement over the loss of life. A tear rolled down her cheek. Not for the tsunami and volcano victims, but for her daughter. Muni still hadn’t allowed her to see Catalina, and her heart was breaking.

  “Play it cool,” she whispered under her breath and wiped the tear away.

  “Sorry?” Pavana asked. “Did you say something?”

  “No, I just…” Gita started to say when a breaking news ticker flashed across the screen: Mass Deaths of Thousands of Birds Reported around the Globe.

  She clicked the link, thinking the events had something to do with the tsunamis, volcanoes, and earthquakes. But to her astonishment, the deaths were nowhere near any of the plate tectonic disasters. According to reports, beachgoers had found thousands of migratory great cormorants dead along the coast of the United Arab Emirates. Also found dead were hundreds of thousands of Canada geese in and around Seneca Falls, New York, and an account of several thousand dead hummingbirds from Sky Islands, Arizona.

  “Birds are dying all over the world,” Gita said.

  “How is that possible?” Pavana questioned.

  Gita showed her the reports.

  “Remarkable,” Pavana muttered, eyes wide as she read.

  For a flickering moment, Gita saw Pavana’s inner scientist come to the surface and the outer Antakaale fade into the background. She took advantage of the situation, attempting to pry open the tiny crack in Pavana’s armor.

  “I can’t help but think of the Triassic-Jurassic period,” Gita said.

  Pavana nodded. “When some eighty percent of Earth’s species went extinct. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “If it’s about dropping oxygen levels then we’re on the same page. When that reversal of the magnetic poles happened over two million years ago, it caused a major dip in Earth’s breathable atmospheric air.”

  “This could be the proverbial canary in the coal mine.”

  Gita’s heart skipped with excitement. They were talking like two geophysics professors, not devout followers of a fanatic who preached the end of the world.

  “I wish we were back in my lab at UC Berkeley,” Gita said.

  Pavana gave her a puzzled glance.

  “I mean, we would have access to all of the equipment needed to probe into this full bore,” Gita clarified. “Where was your professorship again?”

  “I…um,” Pavana stuttered, like she was trying to retrieve a long-lost memory. “It was…uh…the University of Bristol.”

  Gita smiled. “I’ve been there. It’s such a beautiful city with the Clifton Suspension Bridge, Cheddar Gorge, Bristol Cathedral. Were you born there?”

  “Verse twenty-nine…hearing the Voices for the first time is like being reborn into—”

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Gita interrupted, desperately trying to keep Pavana from accessing Muni’s teachings.

  Pavana’s face grew pale, like she was suffering the first sharp pangs of stomach flu. She collapsed into a chair. Sweat poured down her temples, and her breathing became labored.

  “What’s your real name?” Gita asked. “Do you miss your mother?”

  “The Voices are like oxygen,” Pavana mumbled under her breath. “You cannot see them, but need them to…”

  Gita jumped out of her chair and cradled Pavana’s face gently between her palms. “Please,” she pleaded. “Take me to Cat…Varya. We can leave here. Go back to our old lives. Our families desperately miss us. The Voices aren’t real. Muni doesn’t…”

  Pavana’s hand reared back and slapped Gita hard across the face. Gita stumbled backward, her cheek and the wound on her forehead stinging with pain. They wrestled on the floor. Chairs overturned, drinking glasses shattered, a laptop crashed to the ground.

  “The Voices speak the truth!” Pavana cried, pinning Gita to the ground.

  “Have you ever heard the Voices yourself?” Gita spit back.

  “Muni is the dreamer, the listener, the interpreter.”

  “That woman’s a crazy old witch! She just hears voices in her head!”

  The door to the Command Center flew open.

  “Muni!” Pavana gasped.

  Their leader gripped both girls by the backs of their gowns and forcibly pried them apart.

  “Soul Worms!” Muni yelled at the top of her lungs. “The Voices order you to leave these girls! Verse fifty-three says that all anger, argument, resentment, and lies be cast away so the Voices may enter all who believe!”

  “But Gita said—” Pavana panted.

  “Silence!” Muni roared. “Compassion is our gift. Gita has been attacked by the Soul Worms. If they gain entry once, they will try again and again. You should know this.”

  Gita was on her hands and knees, crying deep guttural wails that reverberated around the concrete room.

  “Sob, my dear daughter,” Muni said. “The Voices teach us that tears are great purifiers. Tell me verse forty-one.”

  “Give your pain to the Voices,” Gita said in a barely audible whisper.

  “Louder!” Muni cried and gripped the back of Gita’s neck.

  Tears streamed down Gita’s face. She felt utterly helpless to the woman now towering over her. Muni had taken her child away, and now she held sway over her very life and death.

  Muni bent down and whispered into Gita’s ear. “Death comes to those who no longer hear the Voices. Think of Varya. Do you want her to think Faraw is her mother? Tell me verse forty-one. Now.”

  “Give your pain to the Voices!” Gita bawled. “And the Voices will give you life and never leave you.”

  Muni’s released her grip from Gita’s neck. She ran a hand through her long silver hair and readjusted the lotus flower behind her ear.

  “Follow me to the Temple,” she instructed. “I’ve assembled everyone. It’s time to tell the good news. We’ll be leaving shortly for New Earth.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  AXEL

  Megan googled the location of the new coordinates on her phone.

  29.5347° N, 35.4079° E

  “Where is it?” Axel asked, barely able to contain his excitement.

  “No service,” Megan said after a moment. “The quake must’ve knocked out the cell tower.”

  Axel tossed up his hands in exasperation. “Ugh! We have to know where those latitude and longitude numbers are coming from. I need to find Daisha!”

  “Nothing can be done about it now,” Jag said. “We need to help these people whose homes have been destroyed by the tremors.” He turned to Charu. “As soon as cell service is back up, we’ll check on your family. I’m sure they’re okay.”

  For the next several hours, Axel, Charu, Megan, and Jag helped search for missing people and animals. When they had accounted for everyone in the immediate area, it was time to clear rubble from the road so emergency vehicles could pass. Megan and Charu filled wheelbarrows and wagons. Jag and Axel took up shovels and loaded debris into the backs of pickup trucks that had miraculously survived the disaster. Oddly enough, the only homes left standing were the bamboo shacks. All of the newer homes made of concrete and steel had crumpled like Jenga blocks.

  29.5347° N, 35.4079° E

  The new coordinates flashed in Axel’s mind with every shovelful of wreckage he dumped into the truck beds. He was convinced Daisha was on the other end of those numbers. She had to be. If only his unit worked properly. He’d press the SW
button and Warp right next to her.

  An older woman with tear tracks on her dusty face brought them plates of jasmine rice, boiled vegetables, and naan. After eating, they went back to work until most of the road was clear. A steady stream of emergency vehicles like ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars followed.

  “Maybe we can catch a ride with a car leaving from Bhopal,” Jag suggested.

  “How far are the caves?” Megan asked.

  “Over thirty kilometers,” Charu answered. “Without a ride, it’s a good six- or seven-hour walk.”

  “I don’t think I’m up for that kind of hike after all this work,” Axel said. “What should we do?”

  “Let’s just stay here for the night and rest,” Jag suggested. “Tomorrow, we should be able to catch a ride to the rock shelter.”

  When the work was over for the day, a somber, depressing mood settled over the area. Nearly everything was gone. The earthquake had destroyed houses, animal huts, religious shrines, schools, roadside restaurants and markets, and even much of the surrounding crops.

  People crowded around fires when evening fell, more for camaraderie and comfort than warmth. Axel, Jag, Megan, and Charu sat around their own blaze. Jag chucked in scraps of wood and scrounged tree branches to keep the flames going.

  “Oooh!” Megan chirped. “I’m getting a bar on my phone.”

  “They must be getting the cell towers working,” Jag said.

  Axel peeked over Megan’s shoulder. “Google the coordinates,” he said.

  “What are they again?” Megan asked.

  “29.5347° N, 35.4079° E,” Axel answered.

  Megan typed in the numbers. They watched as the search engine sputtered, stopped, and sputtered some more. The phone was trying its hardest, but the signal wasn’t strong enough.

  “One bar is a good sign,” Charu said. “That means Vodafone is working hard to get the transmission up and running again.”

  Axel stood up and stretched. “I need to go for a walk,” he said and stepped away from the fire.

  “Wait for me,” Charu said, running to catch up to him.

  They walked down the road together. A cow approached them. Axel patted its head and the bovine moved on.

  “Do people in India really worship cows?” Axel asked.

  Charu giggled. “What do you mean?”

  “I heard cows in India are revered. You can’t kill them or eat their meat.”

  “No, Hindus do not worship cows, but they are held in high esteem. They’re free to roam wherever they desire.”

  “If you came to America, your head would explode at the way we treat cows and other livestock. It’s pretty disgusting.”

  Charu smiled gently at him, and they continued walking. A million stars shined high and bright in the sky. Axel picked out the Big and Little Dippers. He soon saw Gemini, the Twins; Taurus, the Bull; and Orion, the Hunter.

  “I see you enjoy gazing at the stars,” Charu said.

  “Yes. Daisha and I used to hunt for constellations back in Palo Alto.”

  “Is Daisha your girlfriend?”

  Axel paused, not quite knowing how to answer. “No,” he said after giving his response some thought. “We’re more like brother and sister. I’ve known her my whole life. We don’t have anyone but each other as far as family goes.”

  “In India, we call constellations nakshatras. I’ve studied the sky a lot.”

  “Oh, yeah? Have you ever heard of Pisces? Daisha and I’ve been trying to find that constellation since we were little kids.”

  “You mean Revati,” Charu said. “That’s the Hindu name for the star on the edge of the Pisces constellation.”

  Axel looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Wow. You really know your astrology.”

  “Astronomy, not astrology. I just love the science of the stars and their connection to our world.” Charu pointed into the sky. “There it is. Do you see it?”

  Axel looked up, squinting his eyes. He scanned the sky for the Great Square of Pegasus. Pisces was directly below, along with Aquarius. At least that’s what he had read. He had never actually found the constellation while lying in his backyard.

  “I’ll show you,” Charu said.

  She took hold of Axel’s hand and raised it into the sky along with hers. As their fingers intertwined, she traced Pisces, a long V-shape across the sky. All of the constellation’s major stars came into focus: Eta, Gamma, Omega, Iota, Omicron, and Alpha.

  “Amazing,” Axel said, a hint of awe in his voice. “I’ve never seen Pisces like that.”

  Axel lowered his hand, fingers still tightly tangled with hers. He didn’t let go and neither did she. A strange yet pleasant fluttering sensation tingled in his stomach. They continued walking hand-in-hand down the road. Dozens of fires broke up the darkness. Both of them were extremely thankful that no one in the surrounding countryside had lost their lives.

  When they were about to turn around and go back to Jag and Megan, a loud chirping sound rang in their ears. The GeoPort in Axel’s front pocket vibrated to life.

  “What’s that noise?” Charu asked.

  Axel let go of her hand, reached into his pocket, and pulled out the GeoPort.

  “It’s my GeoPort!” he exclaimed. “It’s working again!”

  “Why would it be working now?” Charu asked. “There was just an earthquake and cell phones aren’t even working.”

  “GeoPorts don’t work like cell phones,” Axel said. He paused, trying to remember how exactly the devices did work. “Satellites capture electrons in the solar wind. They then channel that energy through the X-Point and to our GeoPorts…Well, that’s how it worked before we got rid of the X-Point. Now I don’t really know what’s going on.”

  “It sounds like the way a cell phone works,” Charu said. “Except instead of cellular towers sending the signal, the GeoPort uses satellites. What if being underground in the rock shelters made it so the GeoPort didn’t get the signal?”

  “Wow, I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Axel said, blushing. “My GeoPort wasn’t broken—I just needed to plug it in!”

  “What does that SW button mean?” Charu asked.

  “It means Satellite Warp. If my unit’s really working properly, all I have to do is type in coordinates, press the button, and I’d fly through the Warp to that very spot on the planet.”

  “Some place like 29.5347° N, 35.4079° E?”

  Axel smiled at her and typed in the mystery coordinates. The latitude and longitude numbers shined neon green. Blue starbursts illuminated the unit’s casing.

  “We better go back and show this to Megan,” Charu suggested.

  Charu reached out and took Axel’s hand again just as he pressed the SW button. Both of them exploded into puffs of smoke and electrical discharge.

  Chapter Nineteen

  DAISHA

  The camel barely gave them a glance as it headed straight for the stagnant pool of water. The massive creature lowered its long neck and started drinking. Loud slurps from its thick tongue echoed off the rock walls of the gorge. When it was full, the camel lifted its head and stared directly at Daisha and Loosha.

  “Do camels bite?” Daisha asked.

  Loosha shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  Daisha looked closer and saw a large white spot on its hump. There was a leather harness around its head along with a cloth saddle draped across its back.

  “This camel must belong to someone,” she said.

  “Get out of here!” Loosha hollered, trying to shoo the animal away.

  The camel looked at Loosha with its huge brown eyes and sprayed a wad of sticky white froth right in his face.

  Daisha howled with laughter.

  “Ahhh!” Loosha cried with disgust, wiping away the saliva. “I’ll shoot that mangy creature!”

  “You will do no such thing,” Daisha said and stood between Loosha and the camel.

  A voice called out.

  “Jamel! Jamel!”

  Daisha and Loos
ha shot each other an anxious glance.

  “Jamel! Come!” the voice shouted again, this time getting closer.

  Loosha cocked his pistol. Daisha scooted behind him for protection. Shuffling footsteps grew louder until finally a boy of ten or eleven appeared from the shadows. He had big dark eyes and donned a long white robe with a red-and-white checkered keffiyeh covering his head.

  A stunned look came over the boy’s face when he saw Daisha and Loosha standing against the rocks. He grabbed the camel’s lead and tugged the animal away from the water.

  “Who…are…you?” the boy asked, struggling to translate into English. “Did you…separate from…tour group?”

  “Where are we?” Loosha barked.

  “Uh…um,” the boy stuttered, obviously afraid of Loosha’s intimidating presence.

  “You’re right,” Daisha interjected. “We got separated from our tour group. Can you help us?”

  The boy smiled. “Yes. Come with me.”

  Daisha and Loosha followed the boy and camel out of the gorge. Goose bumps popped out on Daisha’s skin when she hit the open desert. A brilliant orange sun was setting on the horizon. The temperature had dropped dramatically. She wondered how a place so blistering hot during the day could get so uncomfortably cold as evening grew nearer.

  “Where are we?” Loosha asked again as they followed the boy and camel through the sand.

  “Wadi Rum Protected Area,” the boy said. “Camp is not far from here. Our family tour is authentic desert experience. Not near other tourist camps.”

  “What’s he talking about?” Loosha asked.

  Daisha shrugged. The boy was dressed in Arabic garb. That and the fact there was a camel traveling with them could only mean they were in the Middle East or perhaps North Africa. Their theory of still being in Arizona was several thousand miles off.

  “What country is this?” Daisha asked.

  The boy looked at her with an amused expression. “Jordan,” he said. “Where else would you be?”

  “There’s your answer,” Daisha said to Loosha. “We’re in the Middle Eastern desert.”

  After twenty minutes of trekking, they came to a series of rocky outcrops. The boy let go of the camel’s lead, allowing the animal to romp away toward a caravan of other camels roaming freely among the scrub.