The Cave of Nine Bears (Chronicles of a Magi)

by Gene Curtis

  Cave of Nine Bears

  Chronicles of a Magi Book III

  Gene Curtis

  A Prize Books Publication

  Edited by Rick den Haan

  Story edit by Dianne Hills

  Copyright © 2012 by Gene Curtis

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

  Credits:

  Asmodeus line art from Dictionnaire Infernal ©1818 (Public Domain)

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Other Door

  The desert smelled like aviation fuel and it looked different from most of the other desert areas around The Seventh Mountain. Sparse small trees and brush rimmed the large salt flat, which served as the runway for air combat training. The ground was hard packed and there were few rocks.

  The control tower spiked toward the cloudless early morning sky at the end of the long row of hangars. The bleachers next to the tower were long, low and empty except for the hundred or so people seated close to the tower. The concession building behind the bleachers was closed. Mark and his friends sat in a cluster near the top row to watch the summer school students, including Chenoa, complete their first jet solo.

  Nick asked Mark, “Did you ever think that Chenoa would be a fighter pilot when you first met her?”

  Mark thought back to his first day at The Seventh Mountain two years ago and how the four friends had met, how much he had liked Chenoa’s hair and how she seemed like an expert with horses. She liked the thrill of the ride, that was obvious, but he had no idea that she aspired to fly. Imagining a pretty girl at the controls of a mechanical dragon, ready to spit death and destruction at the speed of sound, had never crossed his mind. He said, “No idea, but Mr. Fairbanks did say you could study to be anything you wanted.”

  Jamal piped in, “I never thought that I would like cooking so much.”

  On the other hand, Jamal believed family to be the most important thing in the world. It wasn’t much of a mental journey to see how cooking had become his passion.

  Salina added, “That’s what school is supposed to be about, finding what you love.”

  Mark thought Salina was a bit desperate to fit in with a group, any group, where she’d be thought of as an asset and respected for what she could do. He was glad that she hadn’t merged with Slone’s group, but because that possibility had arisen, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to trust her fully. He thought she might become a corporate big wig some day, possibly even a CEO.

  Gerod walked out of the ground level door of the control tower and headed toward the bleachers where they sat with the other people. His bright blond hair hung across his shoulders and his eyes shone as brightly as they ever had. His smile was almost jovial. The chatter of the crowd stopped and he began. “Good morning everyone. How many of you have ever heard of the US Air Force’s demonstration team named the Thunderbirds?”

  Many in the crowd raised their hands.

  “Well, those of you old enough may remember seeing the Thunderbirds flying T-38 jets. This particular jet is still used worldwide to train pilots. These jets are capable of every aerobatic maneuver you may have seen or even heard about straight from the factory and unmodified.”

  Salina said in a low voice, “Cool, I’ve never seen an air show before.”

  Cap’n Ben put his arm around her and hugged her lightly. “That’s another thing we have in common.”

  “Today there will be sixteen students attempting their first jet solos flying T-38s. I say attempting because this is their first solo air combat exercise. Each pilot’s goal is to avoid being shot down and to return to base. The weapons being used are puffers, which are dummy rounds that leave a colored mark on the plane when it’s struck, similar to paint ball but with powder.”

  LeOmi said, “I smell what’s coming. I had the same feeling in kickboxing class just before the instructor said, ‘Class... attack LeOmi.’ ”

  “The students will be facing surface to air missiles, flack, small arms fire, air-to-air missiles and air-to-air machinegun fire. The fun part is... they have no idea this is going to happen and they have to stay up for at least thirty minutes. But don’t worry; they’re not in any real danger.”

  James touched LeOmi on the shoulder and said, “Good call.”

  “Every one of them is more than qualified to pilot their craft; they’ve demonstrated that or they wouldn’t be here today. This is a test of their ability to react on their own in a combat situation; no instructors are with them to give them guidance. They can’t fight back either because none of their planes are armed. It’s all about the tactics of not getting hit and getting back to base. They all have the knowledge and the ability to do just that. This exercise is designed to show them what they know and what they can do... to build their confidence. This exercise is always fun to watch, but you’ll need binoculars.”

  Nick pointed to his communicator ring and asked Mark, “Should we warn her? I mean, I know this is a test, but in real life we’d warn her of something like this.”

  Mark shook his head, “No, I’m sure she’s nervous enough already.”

  Gerod looked up to the control tower windows and waved. Almost immediately, a voice from the speaker mounted on the control tower said, “Morning Dove, your squad is clear to taxi to runway two-six.”

  Chenoa’s voice replied, “Roger tower, taxiing to runway two-six. Doves form up behind me.”

  The sound of distant jet engines revving up began and a moment later a group of planes emerged from behind the far end of the hangars. Mark took out his binoculars and saw there were eight planes heading for the runway, single file. As they began turning Chenoa’s voice said, “By the numbers...” followed by, “Dove Two, check. Dove Three, check,” on down to, “Dove Eight, check.”

  A moment later the controller’s voice said, “Blue Eyes, you’re clear to taxi to runway two-six.” It was followed by a boy’s voice, “Roger tower, runway two-six.”

  As Chenoa’s squad approached the runway the tower said, “Morning Dove, you’re clear for takeoff.”

  Her voice said, “Doves, two by two, let’s go.” The planes raced down the runway and seemingly leapt into the air. “Level at angels ten and come to zero-one-zero.” Angels ten was the old military term for ten thousand feet altitude. Magi pilots still used the ‘angels’ designation for altitude as a matter of tradition.

  A couple of minutes passed as Blue Eyes squadron took to the air and then, “Dove Two, bogey, two-niner-zero at seventy, closing at twelve hundred knots.”

  Chenoa’s voice said, “Bogey confirmed. No one’s supposed to be up here this morning except us. Tower, can you ID?”

  “We see the bogey, no squawk,” which meant the unidentified aircraft wasn’t transmitting a transponder code for identification.

  “Roger tower. Dove Seven and Eight, flyby for ID, not too close. Everyone else on me to the deck, this smells like an ambush.”

  “Blue Two, I’ve got two more bogeys, one-one-zero at ninety closing at fifteen hundred. Tower?”

  “Confirmed Blue Two; two more bogeys, no squawk.”

  “Dove Seven, missile lock, he’s got me in missile lock! He’s fired! Going for the deck!”

  Chenoa’s voice was calm but commanding, “Doves, fan pattern gamma. At thirty-five, target bogey. We don’t have weapons, but maybe he doesn’t know that.”

  “Dove Seven, we’re taking triple-A. They’re targeting high, going down for a rooster tail.” A rooster tail was a low flyby where the plane’s wake kicked up a lot of debris in a pattern resembling a rooster’s tail. It was a feeble maneuver designed to create a momentary bit of panic for the troops on the
ground and buy a few seconds for the pilot to escape. The sonic boom of two planes, Dove Seven and his wingman Dove Eight, would also help with the effect.

  “Blue Three, they’ve got missile lock!”

  “Blue Four, me too! Going for the deck.”

  “Watch for triple-A,” Chenoa’s voice said.

  A moment later Blue Three’s voice said, “No triple-A, it’s small arms fire, a lot of it. I’m hit... nothing damaged. I’m fine.”

  Mark felt someone place a hand on his shoulder. He turned and was surprised to see who it was. “Mrs. Shadowitz?”

  “Sorry to interrupt; I know you are excited to see Chenoa succeed, but this matter can’t wait. We discovered the other door to the labyrinth about an hour ago when one of the search team fell in.”

  Mark understood the urgency of the situation. Time passed about twenty-four times faster in the labyrinth so every hour meant the person in there experienced about a day. Several hours could be a matter of life or death for that poor soul since Benrah had eliminated the healing aspects of that realm. He was the only one that had any chance at getting anyone out. Mark said, “I understand; let’s go.”

  Mark knew at once that Mrs. Shadowitz had remanifested them to a farming zone outside of Magi City. He scanned the sky for contrails and didn’t see any. They were evidently too far away from the airfield. Bulldozers and excavators were almost finished moving a large pile of compost away from where it had been. A team of several dozen Magi sat on the ground nearby next to a large ladder.

  Mrs. Shadowitz said, “This compost operation was the only place we hadn’t searched and as it turned out, the undiscovered door to the labyrinth opened in this pile once a day. The workers had always thought the dimple on the top of the pile that formed every day was caused by decomposition. No one ever wondered why it happened only on this pile.”

  Mark nodded his understanding and continued to look around. “Who fell in?”

  “Her name is Amelia Johnston, an art teacher in Magi City. She volunteered for the search team. I don’t think you ever met her.”

  Mark shook his head, “No ma’am, I don’t think I have.” He consciously began thinking about rescuing her hoping she was close enough to pick up his thoughts, Amelia, we’re going to get you out!

  “Ma’am, has anyone tried Spirit Sight?”

  “It’s been tried several times. No one can penetrate the barrier. We can’t even see the door when it’s closed.”

  On a hunch, he took out the staff, knelt and began trying Spirit Sight himself. After a couple of minutes he could see a hazy rippled shape that looked like an arch floating in mid-air with the bottom about head high. He approached and touched it with the staff. This allowed his spirit to enter. “I see her. She’s passed out and covered with roaches. I think they’re eating her. She’s still breathing.”

  Mrs. Shadowitz shouted, “We’re in! Get a move on!”

  The team came running with four guys carrying the ladder. Several people formed a human pyramid up to the point where the top of the staff touched the door. Four guys with the ladder climbed to the top of the pyramid. They shoved it through the door while holding the top to let the bottom sections deploy. Two tossed in bug bombs and entered. Bug bombs were a small incendiary invention about the size of a marble that had the effect of driving evil spirits away for about an hour, an absolute necessity in the labyrinth. A few seconds later, outside time, they returned with Amelia’s limp body. Mark put a drop of healing oil on her forehead before the guys remanifested with her to the healing ward.

  He said to Mrs. Shadowitz, “Can you use Spirit Sight while I hold it open?”

  Mrs. Shadowitz knelt and closed her eyes. It wasn’t long before she said, “I can’t get through the walls. See what you can do.”

  He said, “Don’t let me fall over.” He tried and easily passed through the walls. About an hour later, outside time, he said, “Just as you suspected; the sunstone is not in there and there are about thirty people in the grotto all armed with some heavy duty firearms.”

  “Good job, Mark.” She let go of him and he collapsed to the ground.

  “Man, am I sleepy.”

  She knelt and helped him sit up.

  His voice was groggy. “Thanks. If this works at the other mountains, it’ll be easy enough for me to search the other labyrinths from the museum doors. No need to keep looking for the other entrances.”

  “That’s good to know, but we still need to keep looking for the sunstone. If they ever discover it’s a facsimile then they’ll be back for the real one. The one they have must be destroyed.”

  “Was it ever determined if the sunstone is correct; is the calendar really six years behind?”

  “A lot of research is being done on that question. As inconceivable as it may seem it might be a real possibility.”

  The sunstone had been the most significant item found in the labyrinths. The size of the giant wheel marked it as significant, but the fact that its working involved technology beyond anyone’s understanding was what made it stand apart. Mark thought that maybe the entire purpose of the sunstone was to convey the knowledge that Benrah was six years closer to achieving world domination than had previously been thought. It would be wiser to assume it was correct and move any plans up based on that assumption. What are their plans anyway?

  Mrs. Shadowitz had evidently picked up his thoughts. “We are proceeding as if the sunstone is correct. The focus of our plans depend on identifying the physical being of Benrah and circumventing his rise to power. That is the only hope of preventing world war, and believe me, if he comes to power there will be world war.”

  Mark yawned, “I understand. So if he knows that we know about the time difference then he’ll double his guard, so to speak.”

  “Not only that, he’d likely start assassinating Magi at every opportunity.”

  “Why don’t we start taking out his troops first?”

  “He managed a jail break for the ones we had already captured so we’re back to square one on that plan. Identifying them is much more difficult for us than it is for them in identifying us. Has Raphael offered you any advice?”

  “Only that my first duty is to help LeOmi and to disregard the sunstone if I need to.” Mark closed his eyes and fell asleep.

  * * *

  Mark awoke in his own bed at home in Virginia. There was no clock in his room, but it was dark outside. He wondered how long he’d slept. Before when he’d physically emerged from the labyrinth, he’d slept for a solid week. This time he’d only been in there in spirit. His mind had experienced an entire day in there, but his body had only experienced an hour.

  Downstairs the clock showed it was just past midnight on a Saturday. Had he slept for a week or just half a day? He thought about turning the TV on to find out, but it didn’t really matter. He’d find out in the morning. He raided the fridge, ate and decided to try Dream Casting while meditating. Mr. Fairbanks had said that would be taught this year in Dream Casting II.

  The Dream Cast meetings had become a regular weekly occurrence over the summer. Every Saturday night the group of seven friends met in Mark’s dreamscape, usually the picnic area outside of Jamal’s Kitchen, to dream train sword fighting with LeOmi. LeOmi was no Ms. Vanmie, but she was good, very good.

  He slipped into Spirit Sight and allowed his spirit to go where it wanted to go. There had been a question nagging at his mind and evidently, his spirit wanted to know the answer too. It went to a large table in The Oasis. He liked that combination restaurant and meeting hall and besides, he didn’t want any distractions. He needed to hear LeOmi’s answer. He called his friend’s names.

  The group came into the dream one by one as always and greeted him with their usual, almost ritual, innermost feelings for him.

  Cap’n Ben said, “I admire you and I want to be like you.”

  Chenoa said, “I love you and I’ll wait as long as I need to. I’ll always stand by you.”

  James, his older brother
said, “I was jealous of you, and I’m sorry for that. I’m the older brother and I’m supposed to lead and protect you, not the other way around, but now I see how God meant it to be.”

  Jamal said, “You are family.” He held his hand out, palm up and brought his fingertips together signifying a family coming together. Family was very important to Jamal.

  Nick said, “It is my destiny to protect you and I love my destiny.”

  LeOmi said, “I’m afraid to love you. Everyone I ever loved left me. I don’t want you to ever leave me.”

  Mark’s Dream Casting instructor last year had said these subconscious utterances were how the person felt about you at that time and that they should be taken with a grain of salt.

  Everyone sat and Mark asked, “How long have I been asleep?”

  Nick said, “Just today. You haven’t missed Orientation if that’s what you’re wondering about.”

  Mark nodded, “Okay, no sword training tonight. I need to ask LeOmi a question and I have a feeling the answer will be long.”

  “What question? You already know everything I know.”

  “Question may be the wrong word, but it has puzzled me ever since I saw it attempted. Why does the Neo-Phylum want to kidnap you?”

  Everyone was quiet while LeOmi thought. Finally she said, “I’ve thought about it a lot and there can only be one answer. At first, I thought it was because Benrah was after two artifacts that I recovered. That may have been part of it since they were two of the things stolen last year: a dagger with a jewel encrusted handle and an ancient Sumerian journal. I have no idea why they’re significant.

  “The way that I came into their possession was through my mother’s death. I didn’t know it at the time, but she was or had been a Neo-Phylum.” LeOmi was obviously shaken about revealing this information. She stopped talking and bowed her head. Her body shook a little and when she looked back up, she was still crying. “This hurts me a lot, but I know you need to know this.