by Ryan Conway
"So, Lynn," Tom said, and she turned her blank gaze toward him. "We heard that even though you're an apprentice, you're better than most experienced warriors in the martial arts." To Spencer's ears, he sounded a little patronizing.
"Most, eh?" Lynn responded, smiling and rolling her eyes, knowing full well what Tom was trying to do. "My reputation must precede me," she said sardonically.
"Well, my boy Spencer here is one of those extreme athletes, and he knows some Tae Kwon Do," Tom said. Spencer immediately began trying to hush Tom as he blushed with embarrassment. "Maybe you two could spar together sometime. What do you say?"
"What are you doing?" Spencer mouthed angrily to Tom. Then he glanced at Lynn and shrugged in a gesture of apologetic reassurance to show that Tom's conversation was not his idea. "I'm sorry… Don't listen to him."
"I'm helping you out, man. You're Shanzenian, even if you didn't know it until a few days ago. You should date a nice Shanzenian girl," Tom whispered back with a smile of confidence. "Don't worry. I got your back."
"My back's fine," Spencer growled. "Just let it go."
"Tae Kwon Do, huh?" Lynn repeated, unimpressed. "You don't say."
Spencer started massaging his own shoulder out of anxiety. "Well, only a little," he responded. 'Three years. A while ago." He didn't mention that he'd been quite good at it. That wouldn't impress a real warrior.
"Well, if you want to spar, let's spar," Lynn replied.
"You'd wipe the floor with me, miss. I actually never said…" Spencer began, before Tom intervened.
"All right, let's do this then. I'll be the match overseer." As he stood between them, Tom looked back at Spencer. "And then maybe I'll be your matchmaker," he whispered.
Spencer's eyes grew big, and his face reddened with embarrassment. "Tom, knock it off," he growled at Tom in a harsh whisper. Then he muttered under his breath, "Great. This is perfect. I'm gonna die and I'm not even nineteen yet."
As Spencer and Lynn squared off opposite each other, Tom briefly stepped out of his referee position to directly consult Spencer. He placed his hand on Spencer's shoulder and looked him directly in the eyes, and said in a low voice, "Sorry, bro. I don't mean to push anything, but just have fun. Maybe you two will date, get married, have kids, and live happily ever after. Or maybe you'll just be friends. Or maybe we never see her again after this mission. Who knows?" Then Tom smiled reassuringly. "But if you don't, if we don't, take opportunities to establish connections when those opportunities are presented, we'll never realize the highest potential of any given moment. So learn something from this experience, see how the possibilities can unfold, and mainly just have fun. All right?"
Tom's perspective actually caused Spencer to loosen up and accept the moment for just that. "Okay then, let's go," He said with renewed confidence.
It didn't last long. Lynn began taunting them from the other side of the bench with a condescending smirk. "If you boys are done hugging each other, there are a few other things I'd rather be doing right now."
With a look of annoyance, Tom stepped back into his referee position to commence the match as Spencer stood in his ready stance. "We don't have any padding, so I'll try to be gentler than usual," Spencer promised jokingly.
"Why?" Lynn snapped. "Because I'm a girl?"
Spencer shrugged uncomfortably. Obviously, she wasn't one to joke with.
"Don't hold back," she insisted sternly.
Tom held his open hand out between Lynn and Spencer, and waited until they both bowed in good sportsmanship. "Fight," he called out quickly, withdrawing his hand. Lynn immediately leapt into a powerful but nimble fighting stance. Spencer awkwardly followed suit with his own defensive, but slightly amateur, side-stance. He didn't expect to win, but he'd give it what he had. They never lowered their eyes from each other as Spencer began to move to one side. He bounced around anxiously as Lynn remained poised and firm. Her calmness began to psyche Spencer out a little, especially when she smiled more and more devilishly, as if she had some unexpected trick up her sleeve.
Unable to contain the anticipation any longer, Spencer lunged forward abruptly, throwing a fast, high roundhouse kick. Lynn blocked it just as quickly and swept his supporting leg out from under him. He attempted to throw a quick punch before toppling over onto his back and popping back to his feet. It wasn't as smooth as something Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan might do, but it was better than most amateurs could have accomplished. "Attack me again,” Lynn ordered.”and don't stop."
As they reassumed their fighting positions, Spencer noticed two people walk into the same tent that Sean, Brother Kaufmann, and Sister Koizumi had entered. He ignored them, refocusing his attention on the sparring match, and began sidling around Mei Lynn in a circle. This time he attacked more confidently, throwing a frenzy of quick punches at Lynn's torso, which she deflected. Every three or four blocked punches, she landed one or two lightning-fast punches of her own to Spencer's stomach, chest, and neck. Finally, he stumbled away from the beating to catch his breath and reassess his technique.
About that time, they both noticed three more people walk into the tent, causing them all to pause, look at each other, and shrug, before diving back into the sparring match.
Lynn had barely moved from her original spot by then, though Spencer had almost completely circled her during their match. Then time he advanced on Lynn with a fast side-kick, which she was even faster in dodging as she spun around rapidly into him, striking him in the back of the head with a closed backhand. She spun away from Spencer, who immediately turned around and stood rubbing the back of his head.
Lynn was already in a defensive fighting stance, ready for any attack. "I've only been putting up a defense so far," she noted calmly. "Do you really want to keep going?"
"Sure, why not? I need to learn what I can when I can." Spencer assumed his offensive stance once more, and this time Lynn lunged at him swiftly, throwing sharp punches and grabs. Spencer stumbled back, trying desperately to block her sudden punches. He threw a few punches of his own, between blocks shielding his upper body and face from her fierce blows. Finally, he jumped back and quickly lunged forward again, throwing one swift, powerful punch. She immediately grabbed his arm, spun around, and harnessed his own inertia to fling him over her shoulder in one surprising and fluid motion. He landed hard on his back, the wind knocked out of him. Lynn stood over Spencer, hand out offering to pull him back up to his feet, as four more people walked into the tent. Spencer reached out and pulled himself to his feet, brushing the dirt off his pants as he glanced at the tent. Must be getting full in there, he thought.
"All right, one more round," Spencer announced, apparently surprising Tom. Lynn's eyebrows lifted; she bore half a smirk as she nodded. They all reassumed their positions, and Tom commenced the match as referee once again. Spencer smiled, remembering his skill at performing graceful katas, and leapt up into the air at Lynn. He twisted halfway around, extending his leg and descending rapidly with a spinning axe kick. Lynn instantly crouched, moved in toward Spencer, and blocked his leg from below as she grabbed his other leg by the thigh and pushed forward. She dropped him swiftly toward the ground, but cradled his back with her blocking arm—not only to prevent him from painfully hitting the ground, but also to let him know that her prowess and expertise put her in full control of the outcome.
The swift fall startled Spencer, who found himself hovering less than an inch from the ground in Lynn's arms. Strong, he thought. She lowered him to the ground and leaned over him; both were winded from the strenuous activity. Lynn stared directly into Spencer's eyes, her face only a few inches away from his. "Enough for today, Tiger?" she asked, knowing full well that Spencer's martial arts training was no match for her own advanced combat skills. Then she put him down, leaving him to get up on his own.
As they both brushed themselves off, they witnessed four more people enter the tent.
"Yeah, that's enough for today." Spencer admitted as he dusted off his clothing. "It's prett
y obvious you could teach me a thing or ten about martial arts." He found himself eager to learn.
As they settled back into their resting spot, Spencer, Tom, and Lynn saw two more people walk into the tent. None of them recalled seeing anyone exit, nor did anyone exit, as person after person passed them to enter the tent. When Spencer realized that there had to be more than twenty people in the tent besides Sean, Marcel, and Wakana, he started counting. At first it was plausible that there could be that many inside, even though it would have been really packed. After a while all three of them realized there was no way the tent could hold as many people as they had seen enter it. Obviously there was another way out.
"What's going on?" Lynn demanded. "Are they walking out the other side?"
"Good question,” Tom replied. "It's like they're playing some kind of funhouse trick on us."
"Maybe there's another opening elsewhere that they're using as their exit."
"Then where are they?" Tom inquired. "Even if they're leaving out the back, we ought to see them walking away at some point. Why don't we?"
Their curiosity eventually got the better of them, and soon, they were sneaking around the tent as if they were preparing an ambush. Spencer motioned for Tom and Lynn to creep over to the opposite side, so they could cover more ground and meet up in the back. They quietly walked around to the back, looking the canvas up and down and keeping some distance between themselves and the tent. They finally met up behind the tent and found no obvious opening through which anyone could have exited it. They looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders, more puzzled than ever.
Sean and Marcel emerged from the tent while they were rounding the corner. "What's going on?" Sean asked suspiciously.
"You tell us what's going on," Tom said. "We just watched about thirty people walk into this tent without coming out. There's no way they could all fit inside. If you're trying to hide a secret tunnel or something, it's a little too obvious."
"Okay, calm down," Sean said, looking a bit irritated. "We're going in now."
"You're going to try to squeeze us in there too? Are we all going to fit?" Tom asked sardonically.
"Please, just go in," Marcel requested.
He and Sean stood on either side of the opening and simultaneously pulled the flaps aside, like they were opening the curtain at a Broadway show. The three younger team members stuck their heads inside curiously before entering, one after another. Contrary to what they were imagining, there was only one man inside, sitting behind a desk, with Wakana standing to the side. The floor was padded with colorful, ornately designed Persian rugs. On top of the desk were a two-way radio, a lamp, and an electric teapot in addition to the officer's folder of paperwork lying in the middle. On the left, against the inside of the tent, sat an enormous bronze-colored trunk made of metal, about three feet high and five feet long. A combination lock dial was centered on the front of the lid.
The man sitting behind the desk was an older gentleman with a receding hairline and a smaller-than-average stature. Despite his height, he bore a very stern expression and possessed a certain domineering aura like that of a fierce but disciplined soldier, which the youngsters didn't doubt he was. He wore the same traditional garb Spencer had witnessed the people wearing around the campsite. His was a dark maroon color with large, black lapels that covered most of his shoulders, a black strap diagonally crossing his torso, and black cuffs. His pants were made of a loose black material and bloused into his shiny black boots about halfway down his calves.
Sean and Marcel appeared on either side of the three new arrivals and stood at attention as if to represent Spencer, Tom, and Lynn in an official manner. "Sir, these are the three young people we informed you about earlier," Marcel reported in a clear voice.
"Sir, with your permission, we would like to allow them entry under our auspices." Sean continued, in just as clear a voice. He lowered his backpack from his shoulder, dangling it beside his knee, and began feeling around inside. He eventually pulled out a large envelope entwined with string, and handed it to the sentry. The older man opened the envelope and withdrew three folded sheets of documentation, each bearing the same embossed seal. "Sir, these tickets are approval from our Shanzenian representatives in Wudang, allowing entry for Spencer Callaghan, Thomas Englewood, and Mei Lynn to Agartha under our watch," Sean announced.
The officer took a moment to read over the documents carefully. He was perusing Spencer's ticket when something in the documentation clearly caught his attention. He stared at the paper for about three seconds before he looked up and made eye contact with Sean. "It says here 'OF COSMIC EXCEPTION'. They never label anything with a status that high unless the order comes from above the Shanzenian Civil Council. This request could very well be coming from the Brotherhood."
"Captain Sha-tzu, does that mean we have your permission to proceed?" Sean asked.
"This order supersedes my authority," the captain admitted. "You don't actually need my permission… At this point I'm just here to ensure your safe entry. Do you have any questions?" he asked.
"Actually, we do have one," Tom piped up. "Where did all those people who came into the tent earlier go?"
The captain chuckled lightly and smiled. "They all went the same way you're about to go."
The captain stood and strolled over to the large trunk, where he turned the dial on the lock carefully and methodically. After a long moment, the lid of the trunk popped open, and the front of the trunk slowly swung out like a pair of Old Western saloon doors. The visible interior of the trunk was golden, and revealed an opening in the floor just as big as the area of the trunk. A golden ladder gradually rose up out of the hole, as if it were attached to a hydraulic system.
Chapter Sixteen
The City Under Sichuan
S ean went down the gold ladder first, the others following in sequence, with Marcel bringing up the rear. Before long, they reached a small, featureless pocket within a lantern-lit cavern system. They then followed a wide flight of steps that descended deeper into the Earth, passing over an underground river system full of water-spouting gargoyles and statues of dragons, lions, monkeys, and legendary figures from Chinese mythology. Some of the stone figures resembled the statues decorating Master Xin's property.
Other people trekked through and occupied the same cavernous spaces. "All the people you see down here, at least in this area, are Satyarakshatians," Sean said in response to their unasked questions, "or at least are being escorted by Satyas, if they themselves don't belong to the Order." The Satyarakshatian warriors were obvious; all were armed with one or more unusual weapons.
"This area is a highly protected zone above Agartha," Marcel added. "You will see why very soon."
The cavern began to narrow and funnel into a stone-walled passageway lined with flaming torches to light the path. Spencer wondered briefly why they hadn't used electric lights, but decided there had to be a reason for it. Flights of stairs connected small stone chambers, like the spiral staircase of an antiquated castle tower, as the path led them further downward.
Finally, the downward-winding passageway emptied into an open space with high ceilings that was supplied with fresh, scented air. Sean explained that the lowest regions of Agartha reached depths of just over twenty miles below the earth's surface. Advanced techniques were used to control the temperature and air pressure within the archaic tunnels and chambers, to make them inhabitable. "Wow, I think I heard about something like this on TV," Spencer proclaimed. "Is this the hollow Earth? I think I've seen some documentaries about this place."
"Those shows are rather… speculative, and assume far too much," Marcel explained. "If the earth was really as hollow as they claim, it would implode."
"Yeah, that's what I would have thought before," Spencer confessed, "but after the last few days, I'm not really sure what to believe anymore."
"The standard model of the Earth's composition is more or less correct," Sean told them. "I'd describe the Earth, or at least
the earth's crust, as more porous than traditionally believed by Nirmanians, with lots of interconnecting tunnels and large chambers. It contains a lot of nooks and crannies surrounded by rock strong enough to withstand the pressures of gravity."
"And pushing beyond 25 or 30 miles from the earth's surface is inadvisable, because that's about where the semi-molten mantle starts," Marcel added. "It varies; sometimes you can go deeper, sometimes you can't even go that far. The crust is actually pretty thin; if the Earth were the size of an apple, its rind would be far thinner than an apple's. There's really not much that can be done below the crust, beyond some geothermal energy tapping."
Occasionally, Sean and Marcel greeted their fellow Satyas and conversed with them in a foreign language. After one such pause, Spencer asked, "What language is that? It sounded… familiar."
"It should; your parents probably spoke it at home sometimes. That's Manuvimal,” Sean answered.
"Manuvimal?" Spencer questioned. "Like the writing I saw back at the research center?"
"Yes, it's spoken everywhere, by all Shanzenians." He glanced at Spencer. "At least, all those not raised by the Nirmanians. You'll pick it up quickly, I promise."
"It's believed to be the oldest continuously spoken human language in the world," Marcel added. "It even predates the Shanzenian civilization itself."
As they exited the Shanzenian chambers, narrow corridors led them to a decorative wall lit by spherical lanterns. Apparently, there was electricity or something like it here. Sean pressed a panel on the wall beside a decorative square indentation; the panel sank in about a quarter of an inch, clicked, and returned to its original position flush with the other wall panels around it. A large, rectangular indentation began to slowly shift sideways, revealing a bright room behind it. They entered in silent awe.
The room was long, with enormous display cases on both sides that ran the full length of the chamber. The cases were occupied by suits of armor and manikins dressed in various warrior costumes and soldiers' uniforms. They appeared to be aligned in an ascending order from most primitive to most modern. Some of the costumes looked like possible inspirations for armor and covert gear from various world cultures throughout history, while other suits seemed almost alien in origin. Spencer knew they were far underground, but the room looked like a large museum hall. "Where are we now? Is this where we're going to find our next point of contact?" he asked.
