The Lost Tribes, page 17
He walked for ten minutes before spotting a tent fifty yards ahead. It appeared out of nowhere. The image could easily be a mirage caused by the blinding light. It glowed orange then vanished. In its place stood a tall, brown-skinned woman, her long hair peaking out from beneath a lavishly embroidered hood. Ben felt exposed to both the elements and to the stranger but there was no place to hide.
He crept closer, his snow-white parka concealing everything but his eyes. The woman took no notice of him and busied herself melting the ice with a hand-held flame thrower. She knelt, gathered samples into silver vials and placed the containers in a woven basket.
A massive white bird circled the woman several times, carrying a basket in its duck-like beak, its wingspan as long as the condor Ben had seen in the Andes Mountains. It swooped and soared in graceful arcs before landing at the feet of the mysterious woman.
A flash of light erupted.
The bird disappeared.
In its place stood a second woman, dressed in similar parka, long flowing robe and brown leather boots. Her face was hidden by the thick layer of fur ringing the edge of the hood. Long tufts of straight black hair blew in the wind. She cradled the basket in her arms.
Both women worked quickly, melting the ice and filling the vials with core samples. After a few minutes, they placed their baskets on the ground and assembled two tall poles with glass orbs attached to the ends. The poles slid into the ice with little resistance, sending arcs of electricity and emitting deep oscillating tones into the air. Even at this distance, Ben could feel the vibrations beneath his feet.
In an instant, two massive blue-gray whales appeared. They swam along the surface of the ocean then submerged, their tails slapping the surf and sending sprays of water and ice toward the women. The women did not flinch. Instead they bowed apologetically and adjusted the rods. That changed the pitch and the frequency of the oscillation. The whales surfaced again, blew tall plumes of mist out of their blow-holes and sped away as if in a panic.
A ripple appeared, and then another, until the water churned violently. And then, as if out of a horror movie, giant gray tentacles pierced the surface. A Kraken, or whatever it was, closed around the women, one tentacle curling into a platform for them. The women gathered their baskets, stepped onto the platform and were encased in a shimmering gold cocoon. As the giant beast submerged with its new quarry, the first woman lowered the hood of her parka and looked in Ben’s direction.
Their eyes met.
Ben’s heart lurched. He saw a glimmer of recognition on the woman’s face as she pulled out a cell phone — the same type used by the scientist in Llactapata — and spoke into it. The second woman lowered her hood and studied him as well, her face expressionless. In seconds, all traces of the women were gone.
Ben’s mother and Cheryl Hightower had just vanished into the freezing Antarctic waters.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Messenger
“Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.”
Confucius
“Mom! Wait! Come back!”
Ben rushed toward the water’s edge, his movements hampered by the heavy layers of clothing he wore and the lack of traction on the ice. No footprints were found on the frozen ground. No sign the mothers had been there except for the metal poles which remained fixed in place. Ben ran his gloved hands up and around the smooth surface but could find no switch to reactivate them or cause the giant beast to return.
Was the Kraken another type of dialer?
A lone penguin waddled up to Ben, its black flippers pressed to its side. It stood about four feet tall and measured up to Ben’s belly button. Its white chest stuck out proudly as it approached
“Where did you come from?” Ben took a step backwards.
The Emperor penguin carried a tubular object in its beak that it dropped at Ben’s feet before waddling away and dissolving into the landscape. Ben knelt to examine the object — a scroll, tied with a red ribbon. He opened it expecting to find more of his uncle’s cryptic clues and more dialer codes. Instead, he recognized his mother’s handwriting.
I guess I don’t need to ask if you want your uncle’s disk back. Go to bed. There are things you need to understand. We’ll talk in the morning. I’ll explain everything then.
The metal poles dissolved without a trace. Expelling the air he’d trapped in his lungs, Ben read the note twice to make sure he understood its meaning. A game! He felt relieved and stupid. His parents weren’t thieves or spies. They had designed an incredible, realistic, addictive 3-D game. With graphic capabilities like this his family would corner the market. They were all super competitive anyway and now everyone would be infected with the virtual reality bug.
You can now go back to your regularly scheduled program.
Ben checked his watch — half past midnight. He was too exhausted to search for a dialer. He pressed the escape key on Grace’s laptop and found himself back in his bedroom, his extra blankets laying in a crumpled heap on the floor. He couldn’t wait to see what other gigantic beasts he encountered. But he’d wait and finish the game with his friends. He didn’t want to spoil the fun. And he’d tell Carlos they had everything figured wrong.
Ben tossed his homework and the cat collar into his backpack then changed into his pajamas. For the first time in a week he relaxed. Now there would be no more secrets from his parents. The gang could safely meet in the open, solve the final puzzle and unlock the mystery — just in time for his uncle’s deadline. Maybe he’d even take a detour and see what was on Deception Island. With a name like that, how could he resist?
“Expedition in your future …”
“Coach says a championship is in the bag with you on the team …”
Ben glanced at the silhouette of the roses against the windowpane. All three were blooming. Just another piece in the Webster family puzzle. He’d solve that tomorrow too.
Exhausted, Ben smiled as he drifted off to sleep.
Life was finally going to get interesting.
On the Run
CHAPTER THIRTY
Escape
“To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else”
Emily Dickinson
Thursday, October 30
Thump! Thump!
Ben flies down the court, dodging his opponents, dribbling the ball like a pro. The State Championship hangs in the balance. He ducks and weaves, then passes the ball to the right.
Yes!
His teammate takes the lead, rushing toward the basket. In a sudden, preplanned move, his teammate fakes out the guard and passes the ball to Ben who is in position.
Thump! Thump!
Ben dribbles, reverses direction, fakes a pass, and then shoots. It is going … going …
BLAAM!
Score! Three point shot!
“Ben!”
Ben waves to his adoring fans and is greeted with thunderous applause. The score is tied. Thirty seconds left on the clock. Ben swivels to block the forward. The forward shoots.
Miss!
Ben defies gravity as he swoops into the air to rebound.
“Yes! Ladies and Gentleman,” the announcer proclaims, “if Ben Webster were a bird he’d fly away.”
Thump! Thump!
Ben charges down the court, showboating, dribbling from one hand to the other. Out of nowhere, someone knocks him to the ground.
BLAAM!
Foul!
“Get up!” the crowd roars. Ben hears the rhythmic stomping from the bleachers.
Thump! Thump!
“Ben!”
“Yes! They’re shouting his name! The San Diego Cobras are undefeated. Ben is the Sunnyslope Jaguar’s only hope of victory. If he can nail the free throw, the game is assured. He just needs to … ”
Thump!
“Get up!”
Someone shook him violently. “Hurry!”
Ben slowly opened his eyes. “What? Did the alarm go off? I didn’t hear …” Words slurring, he drifted back to sleep, “… ten seconds left on the clock. He makes the shot. It’s going … going …”
BLAAM!
“Ben, PLEASE! Get up now!”
Wet sandpaper scraped against his cheek. The fog cleared. Aris sat on his chest and licked him repeatedly. Groggy, Ben tried to concentrate and saw the urgency on his mother’s face. “What’s going on?”
“No time.” She tugged his arm, pulled him out of bed and through the bedroom door. His backpack was slung over her shoulder. Ben blinked and allowed his eyes to adjust. His father carried April on his back as he rushed down the staircase. Aris followed close behind.
“Mom? What’s going on?”
“Shhh!” his mother hissed. “Just hurry!”
Ben ran back and grabbed something off his desk.
“Ben!”
His mother spun him. Eyes wide in surprise, she snatched the Dogon pouch from his hand and kissed it as if it were a miracle, then shoved it in her pocket. She didn’t ask where it came from.
The family flew out the back door, through the garden and toward the garage.
BLAAM!
The night sky turned shades of bright orange and red. Stunned, Ben looked back in time to see something explode into flames down the street. A bolt of lightning shot upward from behind the Lopez’s garage. Paradise Circle was suddenly covered by a barrier that resembled a giant, pulsating soap bubble. Fingers of blue light arched across the shimmering film. It reminded Ben of the electrical spikes he made when he touched a Van de Graaff generator. Only this time, he was inside the glass container instead of outside.
BLAAM!
Hands reached out and yanked Ben backwards. Once inside the garage steel plates descended from the ceiling and sealed the opening.
“Quick! In the back!” his father barked, as the workshop door dissolved to admit them. Carlos stood with his parents, near the circular saw. They were deep in hushed conversation. Why were they in his garage? Despite the odd situation, there was still something missing. Not something — someone. His pulse quickened.
Where was Grace?
Ben was relieved to see her huddled in the far corner. Like Carlos, she kept her attention focused on her parents. All kids accounted for except … Serise.
He headed for his parent’s cars. No one followed him. “Hey! We’ve got to get out of here!”
“No! This way.” His father pointed to a back wall with no doors or windows.
“But we’ll be burnt to a crisp!”
His father looked disappointed. He pushed a button on his watch. A transparent panel appeared, suspended in midair above the table saw. Soon the room filled with electronic equipment, all actively processing data streams.
“Whoa!” shouted April.
Ben’s jaw dropped. No wonder his father spent so much time in here. He and April were alone in their amazement. Grace’s expression was passive and resolute.
“Is this part of the game?” he mouthed to her.
Grace diverted her gaze, but shook her head. No!
No? Ben gasped. No? Then that means …
His heart fell to his stomach. He had been right all along. His parents were —
BLAAM!
The explosion jolted Ben out of his daydream. Heart pounding, he stared in disbelief as the transparent panel streamed the global satellite data he and Carlos had seen on the Lopez computer. The Eye of Ra and the eight-pointed star appeared as well.
Carlos’s father rushed to the panel and called up more windows. Almost all of them showed static. “Teams are on the move. Everyone’s under attack. We’ve been compromised.”
“How?” Grace’s mother studied data on a separate monitor.
Carlos’s father shot an angry look at Ben’s father who walked the perimeter of the room with Grace’s father. His hands were splayed flat against the walls as if testing the temperature. Grace’s father carried a device that pinged at one second intervals.
Grace’s mother traced one of the data streams with her fingers and hissed. “Explosions at all the outposts. Tibet’s intact. Vatican’s down. Harbor’s unaffected.”
“Any survivors?” asked Ben’s mother.
“Less than half,” Grace’s mother looked stricken but her voice remained calm. In fact, all the parents, were acting as if this were just an ordinary day on the job. “Harbor’s safest place to send the children.”
“Transport status?” Grace’s father studied his device, then shoved it in his pocket.
Carlos’ father pulled up a series of charts. “ETA 24 hours. All teams ordered to evacuate.”
“Ben!”
Grace’s father hung a beaded necklace around Grace’s neck, then spun a white crystal on the floor. Grace blinked back tears as a column of white light rose to the ceiling.
“Ben! Did you hear me?” asked his father.
Ben snapped to attention. “Umm, yes. I mean no. I mean … how do we get out of here? What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry I waited so long to tell you …”
BLAAM!
The blasts grew closer in frequency.
Ben gasped for air as his adrenaline went into overdrive. “It’s okay, Dad. I figured it out a while ago.”
His father seemed incredulous. “How?”
BLAAM!
“We can’t wait for David and Cheryl any longer,” Grace’s father interrupted. “We’ve got to get the children out of here now!” He gestured toward the light streaming out of the crystal.
BLAAM!
The light flickered and then vanished. Dr. Choedon muttered something angry in his native language before switching back to English. “Too much electrical interference.” said Grace’s father.
BLAAM!
“Jeremiah!” barked Carlos father, “I don’t know how long that force-field is going to last. I’ve got all possible power routed to the dish.”
BLAAM!
“Do it now!” Ben’s mother ordered.
His father typed into a keypad and shouted something unintelligible. A female voice answered, “Askar.” The circular saw disappeared revealing and passageway in the floor. No hieroglyphics this time. Just roughly hewn rock and crude stone steps.
BLAAM!
“Time to go!” Jeremiah Webster rolled the prayer beads in his hand, the beads glowing red in the data stream.
“Go where?” Ben peered down the passageway with apprehension.
“Don’t worry. This route is a detour, but it’s safe,” his father said.
Grace and Carlos helped April into the glowing stairwell, keeping her safely tucked between them. Carlos kept a tight grip on Aris despite the cat’s struggle.
“What happened to the Hightowers?” Ben asked.
“They’re still outside of the barrier,” his father said. “We can’t risk lowering it, not even for a second.”
“I’m sure they found another way,” Grace’s mother said. Her grim expression said otherwise.
“A way to do what?” Ben pleaded. “Mom? Dad?”
“No time to explain.” His father strapped Ben’s pack around his waist and pushed him toward the opening. “I’m sorry, Son. I should have done this earlier but I didn’t think there was a need. I was wrong.” He reached into his pocket and shoved a leather pouch into the pack. “I’m glad you figured it out on your own. Always said you were a smart kid. If we get separated, follow the instructions on this compass to get to Safe Harbor. A ship will arrive tomorrow. If we are not there in twenty-four hours, get on it. Do you understand me? No matter what GET ON IT!”
“Dad! You’re scaring me.”
BLAAM!
The armor plating retracted. A fierce wind blew the door open. Outside, the electrical shield pulsed in the night sky. Searing blue light filled the entrance to the workshop. The Hightowers stepped out of a violent swirl of dust. The armor plating dropped to its original position.
David Hightower carried a kicking and screaming Serise over his shoulder, then dumped her on the floor before rushing over to study the data streams.
Serise stared at her hands, touched her arms and shoulders, then looked up again in horror and disbelief.
Ben blinked. It took a few seconds to recover from his own shock. “Where did you come from?”
“Would someone tell me what’s going on?” Serise rose to her feet, smoothed out her blue satin pajamas and used a washcloth to remove the olive green mud mask from her face. Equipped with a large backpack and a smaller laptop case, she looked like a nerdy space alien in designer clothing. “Where’s Grace? Is she still at my house?”
Still speechless, Ben pointed toward the Choedons. Serise looked relieved.
“David, is there enough power in your crystal to get the kids out?” Ben’s mother asked.
“Barely,” Serise’s father answered. “But with that barrier up, it will be safer and quicker to get out through the museum. Did you and Frank get the equipment transported?”
“No,” Grace’s father said. “Kurosh has the primary artifacts.”
“Can’t leave equipment behind,” Cheryl Hightower said. “The technology is too advanced. We can detonate from my office.”
BLAAM!
“Hear those explosions?” asked Ben’s father. “We may not have to.”
The walls shook violently as if something were trying to batter its way through the door. The door bulged inward.
“Barrier’s breached! We’ve got company folks,” Frank Lopez seemed more amped than usual. Ben could swear his muscles had doubled in size.
Ben’s father strapped two gold cuffs onto his wrists, two on his upper arms. He tossed a set to his wife, then barked a command. A wall opened revealing a wide variety of knives, swords, lasers and …
“Gear up, people!” Ben’s father said, his voice calm.
Ben rushed to the wall, but was blocked by his father. “No, son, too dangerous.”
“No thanks,” Carlos’ mother said. “We’ve got our own toys.”
Grace’s mother pulled a slender pin from her hair and released the cloisonné hair clip. Her neat bun unraveled into a braid that extended to her waist. The hair clip expanded into a multi-pointed weapon that sparked with an electrical discharge.
