The Promise of the Orb

by Marshall Cobb

  Peter felt something press against his forehead.

  Eli’s voice confirmed, “Yeah, I think he’s finally coming around. He’s a little warmer too.”

  Peter opened his eyes and was immediately confused by the fact that he could see no more than he could when his eyes had been closed. Am I blind? He slowly pushed himself up on his elbows and turned his head in either direction, trying to find the source of the voices.

  His vision was overwhelmed by yellow light. He squeezed his eyes shut and used his right hand to further ward against the unwelcome light. “Please stop! I can’t see!”

  “Sorry, Peter. I was just using the lantern to get a better look at you. You really had us scared.”

  Peter moved his hand back from his face and slowly opened his eyes. Though it was still dark he could now tell there was a light behind, and maybe below him.

  “Eli?”

  “Yep. I’m here.” A reassuring hand again pressed against his forehead. Peter squeezed his eyes to ward against the light now on his right side. As the light cast aside the shadows, he could tell he was lying on a long wooden table. The lantern moved below the edge of the table, and Peter could see from the ambient light that the person holding the lantern was Eli.

  Another hand patted his left shoulder reassuringly. He could just make out the face of Jenny. “You doing okay, Peter?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be doing okay?” His voice sounded weak, crackly, as if he had not had a drink in days. He pushed himself up so that he was sitting on the table, but his head betrayed him. Woozy and nauseated, he slowly settled back down so that he was once again lying on the table.

  “You’ve been out for hours,” said Eli. “The rest of us all felt a little tired after the journey, but it really did a number on you. How do you feel now?”

  Peter ignored the question and asked his own. “Where are we?”

  “Real de Catorce,” said Jenny. “Well, we haven’t been outside yet, but that’s what Orb told us.”

  Peter again wondered where in Mexico this city was located. He also realized that, besides their conversation, there was almost nothing to be heard. No cars. No people. Nothing.

  “How long was I out?”

  “About six hours,” Eli replied. “It’s almost ten at night.”

  Peter tried sitting up again and felt both Jenny and Eli supporting him from either side. Jenny whispered, “Easy, Peter. Easy.”

  “Wait – 10:00? How is that possible? When we left my room it was about 1:00 in the morning.

  “Yes,” Jenny replied calmly, “we were confused too. According to Orb, our travel here took about fifteen hours.”

  Peter tried to make sense of that statement but could not. He switched gears. “Is everyone else okay?”

  “Everyone else is fine. Irene and Matt are already asleep.” Eli gestured with his head toward the area behind them. Peter could just make out an old stone wall and an open doorway.

  His eyes slowly adjusting, Peter slowly scanned the small room in front of him. “And Orb?”

  “He left shortly after we arrived. He said he had things to do to protect us before he could shut down to recharge.”

  Peter thought about Jenny’s answer. Orb had been gone for almost six hours. They were alone in some city or town he had never heard of in Mexico. Orb had claimed to need all of them for the trip and had also said he only had enough power to get them here to this stopping point before he needed to recharge—but then had gone off and left them.

  “You guys have been stuck in here for six hours? What have you been doing?”

  “Well,” Eli replied, “we were looking after you to make sure you were ok.”

  An awkward silence ensued.

  “You’ve been staring at me for six hours?”

  “Yeah. And…other stuff,” Eli answered.

  There was another awkward silence. There was not enough light to be sure, but Peter was pretty confident that both Eli and Jenny were blushing.

  Why would they be embarrassed? There’s obviously no TV in here. What could they…? Peter then blushed a little himself as he recalled what Orb had divulged about the plans the teenagers had made—the plans involving a lot of kissing. French kissing.

  That’s just gross. And they probably haven’t brushed their teeth in nearly twenty-four hours.

  He tried to push that idea out of his head and another occurred to Peter. His mind still fuzzy, he tried to think through the events leading up to the formation of their group and their arrival here in Real de Catorce.

  Peter turned to Jenny. “I made Orb promise to stop reading the thoughts of anyone in my family, so Eli is fine. I also did the same for Matt and Irene. I don’t think I asked him about you, Jenny. Did you ask Orb to stay out of your mind?”

  Jenny frowned, which looked even more serious in the sparse light. “I asked Orb about that when we got here. He told me it would be safer for all of us if he could read the thoughts of at least one of us while he was gone—especially with you unconscious.”

  Peter digested her answer, trying to fault the logic. It did make sense that Orb would want to be able to communicate with them or respond to an emergency, but did Jenny truly understand what access to her mind meant?

  “Is there something I should know, Peter?” asked Jenny. She bent down a little closer, her big eyes probing. “I thought we were friends with Orb. Tell me what’s going on.”

  A red glow lit up Jenny’s face, and she drew back from Peter. Orb hung in the air over Peter’s knees. “We are indeed friends, Jenny, aren’t we, Peter?”

  Peter ran through the short list of ways he could answer this question. Orb slowly rose so that he was at eye level with all of them.

  Slowly, deliberately, Peter said, “Yes, we are all friends.”

  Orb pulsed. Peter wondered if this was a way of indicating relief or if Orb could even feel relieved. Peter also recognized just how odd his position was—atop a table with Orb in his face and his brother and Jenny on either side of him—and decided it was time for him to do something about it.

  Peter slowly slid his feet over to the side of the table, where Jenny stood and mumbled, “Excuse me.” Jenny took a step back, and he used that room to lower his feet to the dirt floor and stand, his right hand still touching the table for support. Jenny stared at him with her big, yellow eyes and Peter realized that she was at least six inches taller than him.

  Matt and Irene emerged from the other room. Both looked tired, their hair sticking out at odd angles.

  Peter looked over to Orb. “Where did you go?”

  “I had to prepare defenses to protect the group while I underwent the recharging process. There is now a network of guardians and emissaries in place.”

  Peter envisioned a fort with cougars, foxes, and snakes patrolling its walls.

  “What happened to Peter? Why was the trip here so hard on him?” asked Jenny.

  “That was a miscalculation on two fronts, for which Peter has my sincerest apologies.”

  Peter said nothing and stared at Orb.

  “My first mistake was sharing equally among you the energy load required to travel. I had not considered that this jump would require so much power. Peter, being the smallest, suffered a greater draw-down of energy. It was, however, a temporary event. I have scanned Peter’s systems. All is well.”

  Jenny reached over protectively to push Peter’s hair out of his eyes, and Peter felt even smaller still.

  “My second mistake was underestimating the impact of man-made pollution on the planet. Other than the short trip back across your state from the caverns, I have not traveled in over 3,000 years. My form of travel involves the movement of molecules through the air, but the effort required to travel safely while repelling the pollutants that are now interwoven in the atmosphere is considerably greater than it was before your civilization’s immersion in industry and technology. We can thank Cube for this.”

  Peter, still groggy, tried to digest this mountainous answer. The
amount of pollution in the air caused Orb to expend more energy to transport them? Peter wanted to ask something intelligent as a reply but could not come up with anything.

  Jenny, however, had no such problem. “So, what is the solution, Orb? The rest of us end up taking on more of the energy demand, which leaves us knocked out like Peter after our next trip, or do we need to make more stops?”

  “Excellent questions, Jenny,” Orb replied. “We will reduce the draw on Peter and spread this load, which will be nominal, among the rest of you. We will still be able to make our next, final jump in one step, but I will plan it in conjunction with favorable trade winds. This will result in a slower but safer trip.”

  Peter and the others exchanged looks in the dim, red light. Jenny looked as if she had additional questions but could not quite yet fashion them. Eli squinted, thinking, until something occurred to him. Peter felt the briefest connection between him and Eli once again with a shared thought: if Orb is so wonderful and powerful, how did he make this kind of mistake?

  “You said ‘final,’ but that’s not correct, is it? Our final jump will be after you have reunited with your final receptacle and you take all of us back home. Right?”

  “Yes, Eli. As discussed, I will have no limitations once I am reunited with my final receptacle. You will be returned home in one trip with no energy drain or complications. You must rest now. I have established the defensive perimeter around the town and you should be safe within it while I recharge.”

  “Orb?” asked Irene.

  “Yes, Irene?”

  “Why did you leave Peter unconscious when you could have healed him?”

  Jenny and Eli shared a look. They had wondered the same thing.

  “I verified that the only thing Peter needed was time to rest and used my depleted power to prepare our defenses,” replied Orb.

  Irene looked at Peter, then Matt—who shook his head slightly to express his disapproval. If there had been any doubts among them regarding Orb’s priorities, they were now put to rest. Orb’s first—perhaps only—priority was his quest to reunite with his last receptacle.

  This answer was not a surprise to Peter, who looked around the mostly dark room. “What if we run into someone? What do we tell them?”

  “You are unlikely to encounter others. Real de Catorce is a ghost town that, with rare exception, harbors almost no humans. There are, on occasion, tourists. As none of you speak Spanish, you will, if encountered, simply state, ‘Somos turistas.’ I have taken the liberty of introducing a small collapse in the tunnel that provides access to the town, so your contact will be minimal.”

  “We’re trapped here?” Peter asked.

  “You are protected here. That is why I chose this location. As you already know there are several coolers stocked with food and water in the main room. There will be more than enough.”

  “Orb,” Jenny said with a thoughtful look on her face, “we never finished talking about your access to my mind. I would please like to have privacy. Will you agree to leave, and to stay out unless I give you permission?”

  Orb pulsed. Then pulsed again.

  “This is not wise, Jenny. If I do not have access to your mind, I will not be able to monitor your safety or the safety of the group.”

  “I thought you said you had set up a perimeter of emissaries to protect us and, besides, this is a ghost town. What could happen?”

  Peter looked at Jenny, appreciating her willingness to speak out even though she, like he, must be afraid of Orb’s power. Eli also stared at Jenny, trying to figure out if he should tell Orb that his mind could be used instead, but not at all eager to give up his privacy, or the privacy of their group.

  “It is not wise, Jenny,” Orb repeated.

  “It is my choice, Orb,” Jenny replied.

  A long pause ensued. Neither participant in this contest of wills was prepared to concede. Finally Orb spoke again within their minds. “Very well, Jenny. I agree to remove myself from your thoughts. I am endowing one of the guardians with enhanced monitoring and communication skills to attempt to make up for my inability to help.”

  “When are you doing this endowing, and which guardian?” asked Eli.

  “It is complete. The guardian is the leader of a small pack of coyotes which call this area home. Should you need help please yell ‘succor’ as loudly as you can.”

  Matt looked across at Peter, grinning. “Sucker?”

  Humorlessly, Orb repeated, “No, succor. I picked a word that is not likely to come up in conversation.”

  Jenny volunteered, “It means ‘help,’ correct?”

  “Correct,” Orb confirmed.

  The looks exchanged by all those present confirmed that it was indeed unlikely that this word would be used by any member of the group in a normal conversation.

  “You may speak your concerns to the coyote that appears. It will not be able to communicate with you but will do whatever is in its power to help. It will also be able to contact me while I recharge should something urgent arise.”

  Peter thought about these instructions and recognized that he was tempted to declare an emergency even if none existed just to get close to an actual coyote. What kind of problem could I announce? Coyote, we’re out of toilet paper!

  Peter grinned as he thought of a coyote racing across town with a roll of toilet paper in its mouth when Orb gruffly called him back to the here and now.

  “Peter, you are in command while I recharge.”

  Shocked, Peter stammered, “But I’m the youngest…” He stared at Jenny and realized that he probably was not the smartest either, but pride kept him from stating what everyone else probably already knew.

  “Age is unimportant. You have spent the most time with me. You have done the most to aid our cause. You protected our secret. You faced a guardian. You are in charge.”

  Eli nodded at Peter slightly and smiled. Peter took that as agreement and then turned to Jenny, who also smiled. Jenny then ruined the effect by flicking a bit of dirt off his shoulder. His pride fell all the way back down to normal levels, and then below that threshold, when Orb added, “It is highly unlikely that any decisions will need to be made in my absence.”

  ***

  The next morning, Peter woke early, or at least what felt like early, with a beam of sunlight shining on his face. The sunlight entered through a small dirty window set into the stone wall and allowed Peter to take in the large room.

  He looked to the side and saw a large expanse of blankets on the dirt floor that gave the appearance that they had been slept in—but he saw none of the people who would have been doing the sleeping. He groaned as he got up, shoved his bare feet into his still-tied tennis shoes and, with his heels still sticking out the back end, walked awkwardly over to the collection of coolers against the wall.

  The largest cooler by far was at the left end. It had a scratched and dusty navy-blue body with an even dirtier white lid. Peter lifted the lid and, beneath a thin layer of ice, saw a collection of just about every kind of drink he could name. Twelve-ounce containers of milk, juices, sodas, diet sodas and, of course, water, filled the large cooler.

  Peter stared at this largesse for a moment, then reached down and grabbed a soda. Wiping a chunk of ice back into the cooler, he smugly unscrewed the top and took a large gulp. The rules had become a little looser at home after his mom passed away, but one thing stayed the same—he was never, ever allowed to drink soda for breakfast.

  He had also had a soda before he went to bed, but he felt confident he could kick the sugar habit any time he wanted. He also felt good about the fact that he had brushed his teeth in the small adjoining bathroom on the other side of the room the night before. He licked his teeth with his tongue and calculated that it was time to repeat that process. He belched softly with approval then used his free hand to pat his stomach. The day was likely going to get more complicated before it was done, but as far as he was concerned it was off to a good start.

  His pleased mus
ing was interrupted by what sounded like giggling coming from outside the building. Peter screwed the cap back on his soda and walked around the blankets, using pressure from his toes to keep his shoes from falling off, toward an ancient door with a piece of dangling rope for a handle. Peter reached the door then stopped and tried—unsuccessfully—to wriggle his feet all the way into his shoes.

  He gave up on getting his shoes fully on his feet and used his free hand to pull on the rope. If the door felt his efforts it was quite discreet about it. Peter put the top of the plastic soda bottle between his teeth, put both hands on the chunk of rope, and pulled as hard as he could.

  For just a moment nothing happened, then Peter put his right foot and most of the shoe it was shoved into on the stone wall next to the door for additional leverage. After a moment, with Peter nearly airborne, there was a loud screech, followed by a tearing sound, and the large door opened its full expanse in one noisy motion.

  Peter lost his grip on the rope as the door opened and, with his foot already in the air and no balance to speak of, fell back onto the dirt floor with a thud. The soda bottle rattled out of his mouth, pinching his tongue, before it fell into the dirt next to him. The condensation on the bottle quickly turned it into a muddy mess.

  Peter rubbed his sore mouth, applying a streak of dirt to his face, and was still lying on the ground in a pool of self-pity when Irene appeared at the door—the sunlight streaming around her. She wore a yellow sundress that came to her ankles, and sandals that looked far too fancy for their present environment.

  “There you are, sleepyhead!” Irene exclaimed. “Are you feeling any better?”

  Peter clumsily got to his feet, smearing dirt on himself wherever his hands made contact, then recognized that the time had come to put his shoes fully on his feet. He plopped back down and began untying the knots on his right shoe. “I’m fine. I think. Where is everyone?”

  Irene came all the way in, scooped up his other shoe and began untying the nearly permanent double knot that Peter had created over a month ago to save time.

  “We’re all out and about exploring the town. We took shifts to watch over you while you were asleep. I still can’t believe you slept through us opening this door a few hours ago.”