The hall was nearly dark. Only a few overhead lights remained on so it was difficult to see. Even so, Cuddy quickly snaked through the myriad of Pashier mannequins. He tried not to look too closely at how they were arranged. How the vandals had placed them in various sexual positions: a female Pashier model straddling a male; another male Pashier taking another male from behind. Then Cuddy tripped. Running, he hadn’t noticed the female mannequin lying on the floor, her legs spread wide. He staggered, trying desperately not to drop Brian. One of Brian’s legs came loose from his grip. Flopping and jerking about, it almost seemed the one appendage had miraculously come back to life on its own.
Regaining his balance, Cuddy noticed ahead what he’d come for. The bright red graffiti X, painted on the side of the heritage pod.
New doubts flooded his mind. Why did he think the pod was even viable? Since the figures weren’t real Pashier beings…only props…the heritage pod could, most likely was, also a prop!
As Cuddy slowed down his running pace, it was as if his pent-up emotion somehow caught up with him. Eyes brimming, he tried to swallow but couldn’t. As much as he sometimes—most times—hated Brian, he knew Brian had whole-heartedly been one of them. Had chosen to give up everything back on Earth to join them on this crazy Interstellar adventure. Part of the crew, he’d uncharacteristically given his life to protect the alien child. Had bravely demonstrated he wasn’t the selfish, self-centered, jerk he often came across as.
Standing now before the ten-foot-high leafy, organic-looking, pod, Cuddy felt foolish. It obviously was a stupid prop, made from some kind of plastic, or some alien composite material. What on earth made him think this could somehow work? Brian was gone…he would always be gone.
He gazed down at the corpse in his arms. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Brian. Truly, I am. Letting out a long held-in breath, Cuddy gulped in a new one to replace it and noticed a musky, earthy smell in the air. A smell he’d encountered numerous times before. It occurred to him that no way could props smell like the real thing.
“You must hurry, Cuddy…I will assist you.”
Cuddy spun around and stared. He’d never been more surprised, or happier, to see anyone in his life. “Tow?”
* * *
Jackie’s sadness concerning Brian was replaced by other, equally powerful, emotions. Primarily, utter rage and hatred for Langer. This was all his doing: Brian’s death, and the multiple energy weapons currently trained on them. And that the child was being forced into doing something she clearly did not want to do.
As they moved deeper into the cavern, there was a definite sameness to everything. Each big metal vault door looked identical to the one before it and the one after it. Taking Haffan’s hand in hers, Jackie watched as the alien child swiveled her head, studying one rock wall after another. Expressionless, Haffan gave each vault door several moments of consideration.
A few paces behind them, Jackie felt Langer’s eyes on them, his growing frustration. Screw him. Her thoughts next turned to Cuddy and what he was surely attempting to do at that same moment. She’d only made the connection when she saw him take Brian’s limp body into his arms. She’d barely noticed the heritage pod; hadn’t thought it was real. She already missed Brian; more than she thought possible. Such a difficult person, but all she could think about was having him back in her life. She fought back tears. There would be time to grieve later.
“That one!”
Haffan stopped—standing with her arm raised—her finger pointing. The vault door seemed no different than any of the others—one of hundreds looking exactly like it.
“What you seek is behind that door,” Haffan said. Her voice flat, her facial expression was one of detachment.
Langer and Calph walked to the secured vault together. Jackie caught the growing anticipation, even excitement, on their faces.
“Now open it,” Langer ordered.
Haffan pulled her hand loose from Jackie’s and slowly approached the big metal door. It seemed she was seeing beyond the door to whatever lay within. Her lips began to move, though no sound left her mouth—repeating some kind of unspoken chant over and over.
Fleetingly, Jackie wondered if this was all a ruse on Haffan’s part; a way to stall for time? If so, the young Pashier was an amazing actress. Then she heard it. The spinning of gears—sounds of internal mechanisms working. A definitive final clang signaled the vault door had indeed become unlocked.
Chapter 32
Tow was there—but he also was not. He was coming to him from the other side of Rah the same kind of astral projection occurrence as before, when onboard the Farlight. Tow stood beside the heritage pod—his attention fully on Brian.
“Please tell me this pod is…viable, Tow,” Cuddy said.
Tow acknowledged the bell-shaped pod indeed was. “Yes…there are life forces secured within it. But with that said, Cuddy…this heritage pod has withstood much trauma. Much stress.”
“Will it open…accept Brian?”
Tow nodded. “You will first need to clear away all nearby objects.”
Cuddy did as asked after setting Brian down first. He relocated four Pashier mannequins and several historical props—the most substantial was a mockup of an ancient Pashier dwelling. Cuddy, using TK, shoved items out of the way. Within seconds, there was a twenty-foot clearing all around the pod.
Tow stood nearby with his eyes closed. “Take my hand, Cuddy.”
Cuddy, staring at Tow’s wavering, partially transparent form, wondered how it was going to work. Moving close enough to take Tow’s slightly raised hand in his own, Cuddy too closed his eyes and felt something. Not so much Tow’s physical touch as more an essence—a tingling, coursing energy confined to the shape of his hand. Tow was already mid-process in speaking, communicating with the heritage pod at its highest level. Fear was evident. Both fear and mistrust. The heritage pod had endured much abuse at the hands of the Howsh vandals. Protecting Pashier life forms contained within it had been the pod’s only purpose. Patiently, Tow communicated with the pod’s true essence.
Cuddy’s own impatience was quickly quelled by Tow’s soothing, loving, communion with the pod.
It started with the slightest breath against his skin. A few hairs on his head were tousled. Then came an encircling breeze. Cuddy smiled and opened his eyes. A glittering fountain of light was emanating up from the top of the pod. Starting at the apex, leaves began to open and unfurl. The Shain ritual of the rejoining had begun. Already, a swirling galaxy of stars twinkled above and around them.
Cuddy knelt by Brian’s side, once again sliding his arms beneath his body. Lifting him up, he took several steps backwards while some of the larger pod fronds unfurled onto the floor. Tow hadn’t moved—didn’t need to—since he wasn’t really present. Not physically. His smile beckoned Cuddy to come forward—into the pod’s centripetal space—where physical and spiritual elements merged.
Even though he’d experienced the same ritual in the past, Cuddy was no less captivated at being in this enchanted, magical, place—one not physical, as defined by space and time. A place the human language could not accurately define, or describe. The cool swirling winds increased—buffeting his clothes. Incredible light sparkled like a million diamonds all around him, and Cuddy was forced to close his eyes against the sheer intensity. Brian’s body had become feather light—then no weight at all. Upon opening up his eyes, Cuddy saw Brian Horowitz standing—taking in all the magnificence around him. When he finally turned toward Cuddy, he was smiling, his form nearly as transparent as Tow’s.
Brian gave Cuddy a cocky, casual, salute then winked. “Guess I’ll see you when I see you…they want me to hurry.”
With that, Brian waved goodbye at the now nearly invisible Tow. He walked tall, with confidence, toward a bright, undefined, epicenter somewhere in the distance. Another dimension that Cuddy instinctively knew he personally could not go to—not now. Now was not his time. When he turned back to face Tow, he was no longer there.
Cuddy was filled with a sudden sadness, already missing his friend.
* * *
Jackie closely searched Haffan’s face. Watched her while everyone’s attention was solely focused on the slowly opening vault door. She watched the alien child—how her lower lip was held captive between her upper and lower teeth—how utterly distressed she seemed.
Excited, Calph and Langer, the two Howsh leaders, quickly strode into the vault, ignoring the rest of the group. Langer’s soldiers maintained their vigil—their weapon muzzles still aimed at Jackie, Kyle, and the still-unsteady Tony.
Jackie draped an arm around Haffan, pulling her in close. “It’s okay now…it’s over.”
Haffan gazed up at her, her eyes questioning, searching. Searching for something, perhaps absolution? “No…it has only just begun. I shouldn’t have done that. It would be better if I’d let them kill us.”
“Um…for the record,” Tony said, “I’m good with the choice you made,” as Kyle nodded in agreement.
“How did you do it?” Jackie asked. The tone of her question made it clear she wanted an honest answer.
Haffan didn’t reply.
“Who are you? It’s time you start leveling with us.”
“Leveling?” Haffan repeated.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Haffan.”
Haffan’s eyes flashed to Kyle and Tony, then back to Jackie. “You’ll be mad at me. You’ll hate me.”
“That’s ridiculous! Why would you even say such a thing?” Jackie asked.
“Because…”
Jackie waited for her to give a real answer as Haffan stared at the open vault door. “I think I am…what is called an elder…from a very long time ago. Actually, I do know that I am. I am a Kartinal. I have memories reaching back eight thousand years. Memories usually forgotten…undergoing so many Shain rituals. But I remember them all…each one of my lives.”
“So you do know what’s inside that vault?” Kyle asked.
“Nothing good is inside that vault,” Haffan replied, giving Kyle an exasperated expression normally out of place in such a young person. “You want to know why I haven’t spoken of my parents, or talked about my home back on Mahli? It’s because I don’t have such things. At least, not for a very long time now.”
“Well, you couldn’t have just hatched out from a big egg…you came from somewhere, Haffan, “Tony said.
“Actually, that’s not so far from the truth. I exited from a small heritage pod. It opened and I, all alone, walked out of it. I’m remembering more and more now who and what I am. But I’m only a child. I know that. It’s weird.”
“What’s in the vault, Haffan?” Jackie asked, again.
“Two things…the true location of the Prophesy of Harkstrong.”
“What’s the other thing?” Kyle asked.
“A curse. One that I think I placed on the hide scrolls myself; those within the vault.”
“What kind of curse?”
“Anyone who gazes upon the ancient writings…the scrolls directly…well, they are in for a really bad day. I’m trying to remember what the curse was about exactly.”
“You don’t remember? Didn’t you just say it was your own curse?” Tony asked.
Haffan’s brow furrowed, “Did I mention it happened eight thousand years ago?”
“So we shouldn’t look at anything they bring out of the vault?” Jackie asked.
“No! Don’t look! Though I think seeing it indirectly…like reflected off a mirror, would be okay.”
“You think?” Tony asked.
“Give her a break. She already told you it was…thousands of years ago!” Jackie admonished Tony and Kyle, then thought of something else. “Can you remember how…um…powerful that curse is? I mean, will either of the two Howsh leaders walk out of there…any worse for wear?”
For some reason that evoked a somewhat mischievous smile. Haffan shrugged one shoulder, and replied, “What’s the human, Earth phrase? Oh yeah…they’re totally screwed. I do know that.”
“Like hurt screwed, or dead screwed?” Tony asked.
Haffan thought about that. “Maybe both.”
Chapter 33
Cuddy returned, joining the others now standing deep within the rocky confines of the Vaults of Calirah. He was happy to see Tony back up and moving around, though his balance seemed a bit topsy-turvy. One of the armed soldiers, appraising him, spat a slick galk wad onto the rocky ground.
Watching Cuddy approach, Jackie’s face reflected her growing apprehension. “Well?”
“It’s all fine.”
“Fine? What does that even mean? Was it an actual heritage pod, or not?”
“Yeah, it was…is. And Tow showed up to assist me.” Cuddy let himself grin. “Brian walked right into the pod…to wherever it is their life forces go. Headed in like he owned the place.”
“That sounds like him,” Kyle said. “You know…you saved him. Totally saved his ass.” Cuddy felt somewhat embarrassed by the comment, thinking that anyone else would have done the same.
“He’s right, Cuddy. Sometimes you really do come through,” Jackie said, fondness shining in her eyes.
“Brian owes you big time, man. If ever I see him again, I’ll be sure to remind him,” Tony said.
“You will!” They all turned to Haffan. “You will see him again…I’m just saying.”
Cuddy, glancing first at the soldiers, holding onto weapons, stared at the now-open vault door. “How did that happen?”
“Haffan, it seems, is not who we thought she was. Perhaps a better way to say it, she’s so much more than we ever thought she was.” Jackie leaned over and then kissed the top of the alien child’s head. An endearing gesture, making Cuddy appreciate Jackie even more—if that was possible.
“Saying Haffan is an old soul, is an understatement,” Kyle said. “She’s like six thousand years old.”
Tony and Jackie corrected him, both saying: “Eight thousand,” in unison.
Cuddy glanced down at Haffan, noticing her shamed expression of guilt. She stared at him. Why she had concealed that fact, he wondered.
“You know, you don’t have to hide things from us. I thought you knew that,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
Cuddy brought his attention back to the open vault. The child had not only found the one vault they sought—out of what? Hundreds of others? And she knew how to open it, as well. Undoubtedly, it seemed, strictly by unerring mental concentration. She was immensely powerful. Powers she’d convincingly hidden from the rest of them.
“She is a Kartinal, Cuddy. I think she came back to this particular time and place on purpose,” Jackie said.
That made sense to him. He could tell the seven-year-old was equally tied to all current happenings. Jackie, with Haffan’s help, proceeded to tell him the rest of it—including the bit about Haffan putting a curse on the ancient scrolls.
“So, how long have they been in there?” Cuddy asked. “Maybe I should go take a look—”
“No!” All three bellowed.
Cuddy, who was only kidding, got the reaction he wanted. Keeping his voice low, so the soldiers couldn’t overhear him, he asked, “So how does this work? If Calph or Langer come strolling out of the vault, holding the…uh…what did you say they were…scrolls?”
“Uh huh. Animal hide scrolls. Nine of them,” Haffan said.
“So, if they come strolling out with the scrolls, and we look at them, will we then be cursed too?”
Haffan thought about that. As her brow again characteristically furrowed, she began chewing on the inside of her cheek. Eventually, shaking her head, she replied, “No.”
“No what?” Cuddy asked.
“Merely looking at the rolled-up scrolls isn’t going to affect you. Only gazing upon the actual ancient writings does, even if you don’t understand what the letters, words, mean. You will be affected by the curse nevertheless. And now I remember what the curse does to those—”
Her words trailed off as Ca
lph, then Langer, chose that exact moment to emerge from the vault.
“Hurry, turn away!” Haffan yelled.
They did as told, even Marzon, who must have been listening in on their conversation. They spun in unison in the opposite direction, away from the vault door.
Cuddy hadn’t actually caught more than a brief glimpse of the two Howsh leaders. He did note they were holding onto something—perhaps the rolled-up scrolls, divvied-up between them. “Shouldn’t you look away too, Haffan?” he asked, seeing her still looking directly at the two.
“No. I’m the Kartinal that conjured it up. I am safe. Anyway, you can all look safely now. The scrolls are all rolled up. I counted them. Nine.”
Cuddy decided to look sideways—peripherally, first—just in case. Langer and Calph were standing among their soldiers—both appeared exuberant, even jovial. Undoubtedly, they’d found what they’d come for: the location of the Prophesy of Harkstrong. Cuddy wondered if they, the Earthlings among the group, would still be needed.
Content upon finding the nine scrolls indeed rolled up, Cuddy, none the less, still averted his eyes. A hush had fallen over the group of Howsh. Both Langer and Calph were now standing perfectly still, each staring wide-eyed at the other. The soldiers too were staring, eyes going back and forth between the two leaders. Then Cuddy also noticed. He had to blink several times to ensure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.
“And you came up with this curse all on your own?” Tony asked Haffan.
Cuddy didn’t listen to Haffan’s response, caught up with what he was seeing. Heads. Both Lorgue Supreme Eminence Calph and Lorgue Prime Sub Langer were sprouting tiny heads. Heads on their arms and on their legs. Even tiny heads sprouting out on their foreheads, cheeks, and the napes of their necks. All over. And they were growing—some heads already reaching full-size.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. The many heads were all talking at once—some yelling—some wailing. The sound and sight was terrible. Far beyond anything Cuddy had ever witnessed. He tried shutting out the awful, mournful voices—but couldn’t.
The Simpleton QUEST Page 15
