The Lost Tribes, page 27
I’d rather starve.
“As you wish,” his uncle replied.
Ben gulped. Was his uncle reading his thoughts?
Uncle Henry fixed his gaze on Ben but said nothing.
“Can we see the ship when it comes in?” April tested her hammock. It molded to her body as she sank into it.
“If you promise to stay out of the way, you may join me in the Control Center when the ship docks. I’ll have someone fetch you. For now get some rest.”
Ben’s head filled with more questions, but he could barely stay awake. Last night he had dreamed of basketball championships. But it was clear —
— that life was over.
Friday, October 31
The fog cleared from Ben’s eyes. Simulated daylight streamed through the windows of his uncle’s apartment. The music was off, the stars were gone, and Uncle Henry’s apartment was restored to its previous appearance. Ben, however, remained suspended in midair.
A woman sat, cross-legged, on the window seat, studying readouts that floated above a panel on her lap. Her skin color matched the cushions. The technician who had hugged Kavera in the Control Center the day before. Wrapped around her plain blue tunic, a silver belt held a satchel, several metal balls and a slender rod. Braided rope sandals covered her slender magenta feet.
“Good morning, Benjamin. It seems you have had an adventure on your journey to us.”
Ben rose up on his elbows. “How’d you get stuck babysitting?” The woman arched her eyebrows. “That is an odd reference. Are you a baby?”
“Sorry. Just an expression.” Ben studied the alien woman’s face. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
The woman smiled. “I am Danine. Primary Medical Officer. I am, what Earth people refer to as, your pediatrician.”
“But you were African back then.”
“My appearance was a holographic projection meant to make you more comfortable while I completed your physical exams. It was the Commander’s suggestion. When you entered the exam room at the hospital, you were actually transporting here to one of our empty bays.”
Ben collapsed into the hammock. His brain was now officially on overload.
“As you may have guessed, children are not the Commander’s specialty.” Danine placed her panel to the side. “Your life signs indicated you were coming out of REM. I volunteered to check on you.”
“Rem?” asked Ben. “I don’t understand the language.”
“My apologies. I assumed it was a common Earth term. REM is an abbreviation for ‘rapid eye movement’. It is a form of deep sleep among some species. I suspected the events of the past day would cause you difficulties in relaxing and advised your uncle to use the hammocks. Their harmonic resonance was combined with an aromatherapy mist to induce a deep and restful sleep. I trust it was satisfactory.”
Ben nodded. He did feel refreshed. “Any word about my parents?”
Danine’s eyes flashed midnight blue, then black. “I wish I had more encouraging news, but do not despair. There remains time. And with time there is always hope. Your parents have faced worse challenges. I fully expect they’re making their way here. I cannot imagine they would want to be separated from you for very long. We have sent out a beacon to let them know you arrived safely.”
Ben’s stomach sank. He wanted to go out and search for them. Do something besides sit around. But if his uncle’s team of cracker-jack alien space spies with all their advanced technology couldn’t find them, then what hope did he have? “Where’s Uncle Henry? I mean, Commander Kurosh?”
“Making final preparations for the evacuation. You must be hungry after your journey. Nourishment should arrive shortly.”
As she spoke, the door to the apartment dissolved. Kavera stepped inside carrying an impossibly large tray on his shoulders. He was dressed in an oversized mud cloth dashiki, baggy pants and leather sandals. With his dreads pulled back in a ponytail, he looked like a shorter version of Ben’s father.
Danine beamed.
“Many blessings to you, Danine.” Kavera placed the tray on the coffee table. “Good morning, young warrior. Breakfast is served. I hope you don’t mind takeout. Not much American food is served here.”
Ben’s stomach growled as he dropped out of the hammock. Whatever lay beneath the dome of the tray smelled heavenly. Soon the others roused. They gasped as Danine switched briefly to her “Pediatrician” avatar.
“Ahh! It seems there is life in this room.” Kavera lifted the lid. Ben gave thanks for divine intervention. The tray was piled with French toast, bacon, ham, fruits and omelets dripping with melted cheese.
Danine coughed violently and tapped her foot. “That is not what I ordered.”
Kavera laughed. “You are correct. This is what the Commander ordered. It is the children’s last meal on Earth. He thought they deserved a treat.”
Danine crossed her arms firmly against her chest. “And you complied?”
“I was simply following the orders of our superior officer.” Kavera’s eyes twinkled as he bowed to Danine.
“Is it real?” asked Ben.
“Audrey’s,” Kavera said. “Eighteenth and Vine. Best food in Kansas City. Only seconds from here if you know the proper coordinates.”
Ben and the others pounced on the food.
Danine clapped her hands abruptly. “There is one requirement before you may eat.” She pointed to a basket at her feet. It held four silver and one red flask.
April stared at the basket with dread. “What’s that?”
“Habitat adjustment formula,” Danine said. “My apologies. I did not have time to synthesize something more appealing.”
Carlos groaned. “Why? We’re going home anyway. Who cares if we turn into our real alien selves?”
“I’d refrain from using that term here at the base if you want to avoid conflict,” Kavera said sternly. “It is considered vulgar and will inflame many passions. The team members consider Earth inhabitants to be the aliens. Less advanced civilization.”
“Regardless,” continued Danine. “Your uncle prefers that you taper off rather than go cold chicken — is that the proper American phrase?”
“Cold turkey,” Ben sighed. “But close enough.”
“Many thanks, young warrior,” Danine said. “I find English to be an overly complicated language — too many inconsistencies in phonetic patterns. Please drink this. Only one ounce is necessary, and the food is yours.”
Ben growled like his uncle. He should have known there was a catch. His stomach growled too and demanded he comply in order to expedite access to the food. He grabbed the red flask Danine held out to him. “Why is this one a different color?”
“Your uncle requested that I make an adjustment to your formula.”
Ben wondered what that meant and knew, from Danine’s blank expression, that he wasn’t going to get an answer. Sick of mysteries, he braced himself for the inevitable. Odorless and tasteless, the formula maintained the disgusting gloppy texture he knew and did not love — and was the same shade of puke green. He gagged, but it went down and stayed down. The others followed suit, looks of horror crossing their faces as they swallowed.
“You really drink this stuff every day?” asked Carlos, his mouth puckering.
Ben grimaced and nodded.
“You’re the man. I would have run away from home,” Carlos said.
Having survived the challenge, Ben and his friends tore into the food as if it were going to be their last meal.
“Benjamin. I am curious about something,” Kavera said. “The other night. You went to the British Museum. It was not part of the game’s programming. What had you hoped to accomplish there?”
“I overhead my dad planning to …” he paused and changed the verb hovering on the tip of his tongue, “ …borrow jewelry from an exhibit. I found the coordinates in his office.”
Kavera arched an eyebrow. “I wonder why? We can synthesize jewels.”
“Then my dad?”
“Has often had other priorities beyond his mission,” Kavera answered.
Ben slumped. “So he really is a thief.”
“Oh! No! Far from it,” Kavera said. “Most honorable man I’ve ever known. He and many of the other team members were concerned about ancient artifacts unlawfully removed from our adopted countries. Your parents have been returning them to their rightful owners and replacing them with perfect replicas. Your uncle was not pleased with their extracurricular ‘hobby’ but as long they completed their assigned duties, he gave them a wide berth.” Kavera laughed. “There wasn’t much more he could do to them without turning you into orphans.”
Ben paused, “Then can you tell me what ‘Safina ni kamili’ means? Dad said it the night he was planning the museum switch.”
Kavera laughed. “The two are not related. Your father agreed to help another team with project Noah. It means ‘The Ark is complete’.”
“The safari was to collect animals in case you can’t save Earth.” Kavera nodded.
“So what does my dad really do?” asked Carlos.
“He’s an expert in astrophysics — like Ben’s father. They’re the strongest pilots in the fleet. But here on Earth he performs munitions work in addition to his research in cosmology.”
Carlos furrowed his brow and let the fork in his hands slip back to the plate. “I don’t understand.”
“Your father maps the universe and maintains our space array, but he also deactivates military weapons. Too many conflicts in regions where we need to conduct research. He makes sure the bombs don’t detonate. Brilliantly devious man. Replaces the explosives with a benign compound that erodes any internal wiring but disperses into the air undetected. Humans can’t tell the real ones from the fakes until they are dropped. Then it’s all flash but no destruction.”
“And the other parents?” asked Serise. “Are they all like that?”
Kavera sighed. “I imagine this is hard for you — learning about your parents this way. It is a lot of information to absorb. Suffice it to say that they have shown tremendous creativity and versatility in their assignments. After Kurosh exiled them to California, they bonded unexpectedly. Most had not met prior to volunteering for the mission.”
“You said most?”
Kavera smiled. “Ben. Carlos. Despite the vast difference in cultures, your fathers were best friends long before they entered the Sonecian Science Academy. Virtually inseparable. It is comforting to see that you have all bonded as well. That is why we have high hopes your parents are still alive. Most resourceful, determined team on the mission. To lose them now would be a great loss.”
“Do you think they’ll get here before the ship arrives?” asked Grace.
“There is always hope.”
“May we see it? The Guardian, I mean? It’s a real place, right?” asked April
“Yes,” Kavera said. “I believe we have time. Danine, would you care to join us?”
“With regret I must return to my duties.” She bowed, snatched a strip of bacon out of Kavera’s hand and deftly tossed it back on the tray. Kavera grinned broadly as he watched her leave the room.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Affinity
“The truth is rarely pure and never simple.”
Oscar Wilde
After breakfast, Kavera started his tour of the facility.
“Most sections are being shut down to conserve power now that the teams are evacuating. A skeleton crew will remain behind and be housed in the same sector.”
“Are you staying?” asked Ben.
“Absolutely.”
“But if you don’t find the keys in time you will die,” Grace said.
Kavera’s smile faded. “Perhaps.”
He paused at a narrow tunnel. “Let’s take a short cut to the Guardian. It is under the Sphinx.” He pressed a button on his wristband. Light beams ricocheted against the barrel shaped walls. The tunnel filled with a warm air. A liquid barrier appeared.
Feeling better about having an experienced guide this time, Ben was first to step through the barrier. He found himself in a familiar chamber. Only now, standing in the room, Ben realized how poorly his computer had shown the scope and scale of the chamber. As expected, the white marble altar stood in the middle of the room, its glass enclosure rising out of sight. Now, however, subtle hues pulsed through the stone as if it were a living thing.
Armed with probes and scanners, technicians detonated explosive charges attached to the massive door. A bubble shot from the surface repelling everyone and everything nearby.
The eight canopic statues rose two-stories. Partially hidden in shadow, their ebony black faces looked serious and ominous. Fringe draped the jars as expected but closer inspection revealed them to be hollow cylindrical tubes. Shallow grooves cut through the stone floor at sharp angles and lead from the jars to the altar like the eight legs of a spider. A single trough lead from the altar to the Guardian. The glass-covered channels were empty, but something sparkled and flashed like lightning inside the jars.
“What’s in those things?” asked Ben.
“Unknown,” Kavera said. “We have been unable to analyze them. We believe the technology was designed by an ancient and superior species.”
“I thought our ancestors designed them.”
Kavera shook his head. “The origins aren’t clear. The ancient texts were destroyed so we have only legend to guide us. Over the years the theory has grown to suggest the design specifications have a divine source.”
“A what?” asked Grace.
“On Earth the concept is often referred to as ‘God’. The one surviving text contained a fragment of the original instructions. A crude translation reads ‘You shall know me only when you have come to know yourselves’.”
“What does that mean?” asked Ben.
“Interpretation is varied. Perhaps we are descended from a superior and more advanced tribe. Perhaps there is a divine source that determines the paths for us all.”
Ben carefully examined the tri-colored tubes encircling the canopic jars. They were impossible to lift, as if they were welded or held by a magnetic force.
“They hum,” Ben said. “Could be an energy force.”
Carlos pressed his ear to the jar. “Could be an original tribe member. If this were a video game it would be a monster.”
Kavera shrugged. “The source of the energy is unclear. But you are correct. There is definitely electrochemical activity occuring inside the jars that has not diminished over thousands of years.” He winked at Carlos. “Let’s hope it is not one of your monsters.”
April walked the circumference of the room, touching each jar as she went. She stood on her toes and peered inside a jar to the right of the Guardian doors. The rods clicked in place and then fell again.
Kavera pursed his lips but said nothing.
Ben panicked. “What’d you do now? You always manage to activate something. Keep your hands off stuff without permission.”
April slid her hands behind her back. “Sorry, Kavera. I didn’t mean to hurt anything.”
“No harm was done, April. Would you mind duplicating your actions?”
Ben raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure it’s okay?”
“Yes,” Kavera said. “April, please proceed.”
April walked cautiously around the room, touching and looking into each jar as before. Nothing happened until she arrived at the last jar. The rods clicked into place. The glow inside the jar brightened for a second, then dimmed as the rods fell again.
Kavera’s eyes narrowed. He borrowed a device from a nearby technician and scanned the jar with a probe. The room grew quiet as other technicians took an interest in the readouts. Noting their behavior, Kavera quickly suppressed the holographic display.
“Grace, would you mind duplicating the exercise?” He gestured to the others to join him in the middle of the floor. Ben was sure Kavera’s blank expression was hiding something.
Grace looked apprehensive.
“I can assure you that you are in no danger,” Kavera said. “Just an experiment to occupy the time while we wait to join the Commander.”
Grace touched the canopic jar last touched by April. Nothing happened. She shrugged.
Kavera motioned for her to continue.
She tentatively walked to the second jar. Nothing. Kavera pointed to the next but never raised his eyes from the scanner. The sequence repeated until Grace reached the seventh canopic jar. It glowed, the rods clicked into place then fell again.
Grace gasped.
Ben gasped.
Kavera registered no reaction although Ben clearly saw evidence of the tablet’s increased activity reflected in Kavera’s eyes.
Kavera cast a glance at Serise.
“I know the drill,” she sighed as she headed for the jars.
“What’s going on?” asked Ben. “Can I try it next?”
Kavera touched his earring and signaled for Ben to stay close by. He focused on something unrelated to the device in his hand.
“Askar, Jemadari,” he said finally. “Children. It appears we will have to end the tour. The Sonara has entered the galaxy.”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Course Correction
“There is only one moment in time when it is essential to awaken. That moment is now.”
The Buddha
The control center buzzed with activity.
Ben wondered how the world would react to the presence of a spaceship. Nothing on his father’s device described it. He tried to imagine scenes from science fiction movies he had seen; government troops on alert, mass hysteria. On the other hand a transport had arrived undetected fifteen years ago carrying his parent’s team. It had to have been cloaked.
He stood next to a technician with piercing gold eyes. Dressed in a floor-length white robe, the man stood almost seven feet tall. Veins of blue, red and violet pulsed beneath his translucent green skin. The technician stroked April’s braids with his long, bony fingers, then lifted the beads. He smiled at the clickety-clack sound they made as they fell. He made clicks of his own with his throat, bowed respectfully and returned to his task.
