Eighth Fire

by Curtis, Gene

“Now, as natural rescuers you’ll be given tools and equipment you’ll likely need in the future; some of which you’d have found very useful today.”

  Mark said, “I don’t mean that. I mean I just felt angry enough to fight and it just went away, like turning off a light bulb.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t discuss that.”

  That was an odd answer. It meant Gerod knew exactly what Mark was talking about and it didn’t take much thinking for Mark to realize what was going on. Last year he had wanted to keep some of his abilities secret and Mrs. Shadowitz had agreed to it. He glanced at LeOmi and saw she was frowning at him. He hadn’t been guarding his thoughts and he knew everyone in the sub was reading the thoughts in the front of his mind. He thought back to last year’s Choosing Event and how the Emerald Captain had walked up to meet her before she had even entered the gate. Today, when they had come out of the mountain, two horses were waiting for them. That confirmed it. LeOmi had been pre-chosen too, and she had the ability to project her emotions. He looked back at LeOmi and now she was scowling at him. He thought, Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone, and I’ll try not to think about it.

  After a moment Gerod said, “Well, that was an interesting aside. Now back to what I was saying. Rescuers can elect to take formal training classes, which are highly recommended, if for nothing more than just the basics. If you want to continue in this line of study, advanced classes include things like jump school, dive school and combat medicine. Accelerated communications classes are now mandatory for both of you.

  “I want both of you to report to the north balcony on the seventh floor tomorrow at noon to pick up your basic equipment.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Revenge Stinks

  It was approaching noon before Mark and LeOmi made it back to The Oasis. Most students had finished the test, but several students were seated here and there, still marking their booklets. Nick, Chenoa nor Jamal were anywhere to be seen.

  Mark glanced to his right to say goodbye to LeOmi, but she was walking off toward a booth and without so much as a see-ya, thanks or drop dead. Mark went to where he had been sitting to finish the test and his booklet was gone. No one was on the stage and there were no counselors around.

  He went to the nearest student and asked, “Where is everyone?”

  The guy shrugged and kept checking off answers on his test.

  That was essentially what Mark wanted to know; no other task was scheduled that he was supposed to attend, but it didn’t give him any idea where his friends might be.

  The booth they usually used was empty. He slid in and rested his elbows on the table. He didn’t realize how tired he was until he sat down to relax and he was acutely aware of the scolding such a breach of manners would bring from either of his parents had they been here, but they weren’t. He folded his arms on the table and placed his head on them. He was asleep a few seconds later. A few minutes later Ralph Lawrence and Keith Richards slid into the booth across from him.

  His dream opened with an aerial view watching the warrior Xocotli come into the area Mark had identified as some place in the western United States. As usual, the warrior came in carrying a large sack on his back and a sword shaped metallic-looking rod in his hand. He departed traveling toward the east with only the sack on his back.

  He awoke to someone shaking his arm and turned to see Jeremy. He glanced around the booth and saw he was still alone. He sat back and stretched.

  Jeremy grinned and then chuckled. “Sorry, I couldn’t get to you sooner, and you know you’re not supposed to sleep in here, right?” He sat a glass of lemonade on the table in front of Mark.

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Do you know where Chenoa, Jamal and Nick are?”

  “I can’t answer questions or give advice today, remember. I want you to remember that, okay?” He chuckled again and nodded. “It’s a steadfast rule. Even as much as I might want to say something, I can’t. Now, would you like to order something?”

  “I think I’ll wait for my friends.”

  “They left about an hour and a half ago.”

  “Do you have any idea where they went?”

  “I can’t–”

  “Answer questions. I know.” Mark thought they were probably out looking for him since they thought he was just going for aspirin and he didn’t have a chance to tell them different. If there were only some way he could communicate with them. The power to project his thoughts had a range of about fifty yards and he didn’t have a cell phone, not that they would work here. It suddenly dawned on him: the present Nick had given everyone last year.

  Jeremy said, “If you’re not going to order, I need to go. We’ll talk after sunset.”

  Mark said, “Thanks. It’s probably just as hard for you as it is for the rest of us.”

  Jeremy started walking off and said, “You have no idea.”

  He reached into Aaron’s Grasp and removed the walkie-talkie ring. Using a pencil, he pushed the small letter N on the crest. Nothing happened. He tried the C and the J. Still nothing. They must have forgotten about theirs too.

  He put the ring on the index finger of his left hand. He felt that wearing jewelry on his strong hand had the potential to cause problems at a critical moment during combat. As soon as the ring was on his finger he heard Nick saying, “He must not be wearing it. Hello. Hello.”

  Mark spoke into the ring. “Nick, you’re right. I wasn’t wearing it. Where are you guys?”

  “Sorry, I forgot to tell you that you have to wear the ring; the sound is transmitted through your bones. We’re at the far end of the mall. Are you in The Oasis?”

  “Yeah, but I need to go to the library. Do you know where it is?”

  Jamal’s voice said, “It’s in the third level of The Bookstore, in the back.”

  Nick’s voice said, “We’ll meet you there and you can tell us what’s going on.”

  “See you there.”

  The few people Mark saw on the way to The Bookstore seemed to be happier than normal, especially after a long test. They were all smiling or grinning when he looked their way, but no one spoke.

  The Bookstore was empty except for a clerk sitting behind the counter reading a book. Mark couldn’t read the title from where he was, but the author’s name was James Rollins, written in large, white bold type on the front of the book. The clerk glanced up when Mark passed by, chuckled and promptly went back to reading.

  The door to the library was exactly where Jamal said it was. Mark walked in and was surprised to see LeOmi there checking out a couple of books on kenjutsu, the Japanese style of sword fighting.

  LeOmi didn’t bother to look to see who had come in much less notice when Mark walked passed her and over to the aisles. He began looking for the section on geography and it didn’t take long to find a few books dealing with the western United States.

  He took the books to a table, sat down and thumbed through them. Nothing looked familiar. He pushed the books aside and started to get up when he saw Nick, Chenoa and Jamal round the corner. They all three burst out laughing.

  Mark said, “What’s so funny?”

  Chenoa said, “What happened to you?”

  “I’m a natural rescuer. I had to go try to rescue someone. It’s not funny.”

  Nick said through stifled laughs, “Do all natural rescuers have green ears?”

  “Green ears?” He put a hand to his ear, rubbed and then looked at his fingers. The green didn’t rub off. “What are you talking about?”

  Jamal chuckled, “You’ve got green ears. Either somebody has tagged you or they’re getting a lot of points for a practical joke.”

  Chenoa said, “Good thing not many people are around. What happened to you this morning? We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

  “I had a headache, only it wasn’t a normal one. Somebody thought they were about to die and I sensed it. So did LeOmi, but she knew what was going on. I followed her and we ended up underwater in The Wasteland trying to get a guy out
of a sub. When I got back, I was waiting for you guys to come back to The Oasis and I just fell asleep.”

  Nick nodded and said, “Slone. It had to be Slone or his cronies.”

  Chenoa said, “Tell us what you’re looking up and we can do that while you go back to the dorm and do something about those ears.”

  Nick took off his cloak and handed it to Mark. Mark hadn’t had a chance to get a new one yet. “Here, you can use this to hide your ears.”

  Mark shook his head and started to undo his folded ponytail. “No thanks. I can just let my hair cover it.”

  Jamal exclaimed, “Wait! I think we are heading in the wrong direction with this. Think about it. If you cover it up or try to wash it off, whoever did this will know they got to you. Just leaving it alone won’t work either. You’ve got to wear this like a prize.”

  Nick said, “Yeah! It’s like the sports fans that paint themselves in team colors. We could paint ourselves too. Emerald Tribe team spirit!”

  Chenoa went to Mark and looked at his ears. “It just might work, especially if you start thinking of it that way. Besides, from the looks of whatever they used, I don’t think even Ajax could take it off.”

  Mark said, “Sounds like a plan.”

  He told the group about the dream and what Mrs. Shadowitz had said about looking at pictures and seeing if anyplace seemed familiar. Nick and Jamal went to the geography section and started pulling books that dealt with the American West.

  Chenoa went to the history and arts sections and pulled three books: A Pictorial Survey of North American Petro-glyphs, History of Canyonlands National Park and The Oral History of the Anasazi; any one of which contained all the information she believed he needed. She put the books on the table next to the ones Mark had already looked through, pulled out a chair and sat down. “What do you think all this means?”

  “It can’t be good.” He pulled one of Chenoa’s books toward him and started flipping through it. “Nothing makes any sense. I know the thing Xocotli hid is the power source for the sunstone and we need to figure out what the sunstone is all about, but I don’t think I’m the one that’s supposed to find it; at least that’s not the feel I get from the dream. The dream feels more like I’m just supposed to know the power source was hidden and how much Xocotli went through to hide it. That’s all.”

  “Then why are you the only one having this dream?”

  “I never thought about it, and I don’t know that I’m the only one having the dream.”

  “Then why does Benrah want you to destroy it?”

  Mark turned a couple of more pages in the book, stopping at the page with a picture of the Great Gallery. He glanced at the picture and then at Chenoa. “I don’t know that’s what Benrah wants me to destroy. I just know he wants me to destroy something, and I’m only guessing this could be it.” The rock paintings didn’t look familiar to him since he hadn’t seen them in his dream. He turned the next page.

  “You’re not going to destroy it, are you?”

  Mark looked at her like she had no clue what he was going through. He brought his thoughts to the front of his mind. On one hand, Benrah wants it destroyed and that can’t be good. It could be the one thing that could keep him from ruling the world. On the other hand, if it isn’t destroyed, I know everything I ever loved will be destroyed. That means you three too. You’re like family to me. How can I choose? My only choice is not to find it; let someone else do it.

  Jamal and Nick put their stacks of books on the table and sat down.

  Jamal said, “Destiny doesn’t work that way. If it’s your destiny to find it, you will find it. There’s no way to avoid it.”

  “That’s just it: I don’t know if it’s my destiny to find it or not. Benrah said I will find something and there’re at least two things wrong with that: you can’t trust anything he says, and he didn’t say what it was I was supposed to find. It could be anything.” Mark closed the book he was looking through and pulled another one over.

  Chenoa said, “It’s got to be the reason you’re having this dream. I think Mrs. Shadowitz knows once you can identify where the place in your dream is you’ll know if you’re supposed to go there or not, and that’s why she told you to look through the pictures.”

  Nick said, “I think there’s a better way. We know from what you told us, this warrior guy started from somewhere in Mexico and went north into the western United States. He probably had to cross the Rio Grande or Rio Bravo at some point.”

  Mark flipped another page. “He crossed a lot of rivers until he got about half way to where he was going. Then he just followed one going north.”

  “That’s a good clue. Hold on.” Nick went back to the shelves and returned with a map book. He opened it to the section showing Mexico and the United States. “Okay. There aren’t that many rivers that run north-south from Mexico. Was it wide or narrow?”

  “Wide, real wide.”

  “Good. That narrows it down to: the Pecos, the Rio Grande, and the Colorado. Mountains, were there any mountains?”

  “Yeah, lots of really big ones.”

  “Okay, that rules out the Pecos. Forks in the river, were there a lot or hardly any?”

  “There were a lot.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere. That only leaves the Colorado. Did you go through the Grand Canyon?”

  “I don’t know. We could have. There were a lot of really tall, really steep places, but after that there was a big lake. He traveled by canoe after that.”

  “That’s it.” Nick pointed to the area on the map. “Lake Powell. All right, after the lake, where did you go?”

  “Two days north, on foot, where two rivers meet.”

  “That’s the Colorado and the Green, dead-center of Canyonlands National Park.”

  Chenoa reached over and pulled out the book on the Canyonlands from the stack and handed it to Mark. Nick reached over, took the book from Mark and said, “He can’t recognize pictures taken from the ground; everything he saw was from the air, remember?” He thumbed through the book. “Nope, not a single aerial photo.”

  Chenoa said, “Where are we going to get aerial photos?”

  Nick answered, “The fastest place is the Internet. Most of the map search-engines tie in with an aerial photo database. Just a few clicks and presto, you’re there.”

  Mark pushed the book in front of him toward the center of the table, stood and asked, “Can you get the Internet here?”

  “Of course you can. Lee’s Coffee Shop is an Internet café.” Nick reached into Aaron’s Grasp and pulled out a handheld computer. “If all the stations are in use, we can use my handheld. The screen is small, but it should be good enough to let Mark confirm or deny this as the location. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

  Jamal said, “We should take care of our ears first.”

  Chenoa stood up and tugged Mark’s sleeve. “Let’s go. We can get something for that on the way. We have to figure out what Mark’s dream means and what he’s supposed to do about it.”

  The group cut through the center of the mountain and was just emerging from the botanical gardens section, approaching the picnic park on their way to the coffee shop when Mark yawned. He stopped walking, stretched and said, “Boy, I can’t believe how tired I am. The Wasteland must have zapped me more than I realized. I’ve got to sit down and take a break.” He started walking toward the nearest picnic table.

  Chenoa yawned, “I’m tired too,” and followed Mark.

  Jamal and Nick looked at each other, yawned and followed Chenoa.

  Jamal said, “This isn’t right.” He stopped where he was and sat down on the grass.

  Nick sat beside Jamal. “Someone has to be using…”

  The foursome awoke seventeen minutes later, each with the pinky finger of each hand stuck deep inside his or her nostrils, making them all look like surprised mimes without the face paint.

  Mark tugged and tried twisting his fingers but was unable to remove them. “YOW! What happen
ed?”

  Nick tugged his fingers. “Superglue. Someone has to be using a sleep weapon on us as a practical joke.”

  Chenoa said, “It has to be Slone or one of his crew.”

  Jamal rolled to his knees and stood. “It could’ve been anyone. We need to get our fingers unstuck and the best place to do that is the healing ward. Then we need to figure out how to defend against this.”

  Mark started walking back toward the elevators and his companions joined him. Everyone’s voice sounded like they had a severe cold.

  Nick shrugged his shoulders. “I need to figure out how it works first. If I had to guess right now, I’d say it’s probably some kind of electronic gizmo; maybe something that caused our brainwaves to resonate in the sleep frequencies. I’ll need to get some instruments to check that.”

  Mark asked, “What else could it be?”

  Nick answered, “There are a lot of things that can put a person to sleep, but everything falls into two categories: chemical agents, or altering the brainwaves. I rule out chemical agents because they’re just too hard to deliver without leaving evidence. And we don’t have any evidence of what was used. Hypnosis could have been used if we were given a post hypnotic suggestion, but that’s not very reliable. That leaves altering our brainwaves by some other means, and the best way to do that, theoretically, is through electronics.”

  Mark said, “Let’s assume it’s some kind of electronics, what’s the best way to defend against that?”

  “You use electronics against electronics, but until we know exactly what’s being used, countermeasures are impractical.”

  Jamal said, “What if it’s not electronic, but something else?”

  They reached the only set of elevators in the school which were only supposed to be used by guests or in case of a medical emergency. Having your pinkies glued to the inside of your nose, although requiring medical attention, did not qualify as an emergency. Mark pushed the button.

  Jamal said, “We’re not supposed to use the elevators.”

  Chenoa said, “What, you want to walk to the stairs like this and let everybody see us? We’ll be a laughing stock.”