Authors: David Clarkson
Emerald Sky (18 page)
His lack of a response told her it did
not, although it could have been that it simply did not understand English.
With no face to read, she had no way of telling. She needed a different tactic.
‘Charlie!’ she cried out. ‘Charlie, if
you can hear me you have to stop this. Call your men off, please.’
She wanted to run, but the astral soldier
pre-empted her move and slapped her down with all the ease of swatting a fly.
She landed face down in the snow, its coldness stinging her skin.
All hope was dwindling, but she could not
give up. Not with so much at stake. The strength to get back on her feet
deserted her and she was left instead to crawl. Then she felt something grip
the back of her jacket and hoist her back onto her feet. It was Esteban.
‘I’m assuming you have a plan,’ he said.
‘Call me.’
‘What?’
‘You still have your sat phone, right?
Call me.’
Before he could ask any further questions
she pushed him to the side, making sure she was the one the being followed. She
then sprinted over to where her bespoke EMP device had fallen and scooped it up
into her hands as she passed. The astral soldier was onto her immediately.
She ducked as it swung for her head and
in doing so she lost her balance. This time her attacker could not miss. As it
loomed over her, she could have sworn that if it had a face, it would have been
smiling, such was the malevolence in its posture. What it did not realise was
that she was now the one who had set a trap. She lifted the EMP over her chest
and as soon as the speakers came to life, signalling an incoming call, she
thrust it up into the air.
‘It’s for you,’ she shouted at the astral
soldier.
The flash initiated and with it,
discharged the Electro Magnetic Pulse. As the being was composed entirely of
electrical energy it felt the blast just like a human soldier would had it been
a conventional explosive. Without so much as scream or a whimper, it was gone.
It dematerialized before her eyes.
‘Has that thing got any more juice in
it?’ Esteban asked as he caught up with her.
‘Unfortunately not, it was a one shot
deal. If my theory is correct, his consciousness will have returned to his
body, but there’s nothing to stop him coming back.’
‘That was an astral traveller?’
‘I’ll explain later, but first we’ve got
to get out of here. They’ll be back at any moment.’
‘Maybe not,’ replied Esteban. ‘Perhaps I
can buy us a little more time.’
He pulled out his final hand grenade and
threw it at the power generators. Having taken a significant beating fending
off the attackers, his throw was not as accurate as he would have hoped. The
explosive fell slightly short of where he had intended it too. Only minimal
damage was done by the explosion, but he was confident it would be enough to
cause a temporary disablement at the very least.
‘Where’s Jack?’ asked Esteban.
‘Up there. I don’t think he made it.’
‘And Jimmy?’
‘They took him. Chances are he’s alive,
but there’s nothing we can do for him right now. We have to get out of here.’
‘Agreed. We’ll head back to the tunnels.
We should be safe there. It’s unlikely they know about them.’
After confirming Jack’s demise, they
followed their tracks back up the slope toward the mountain. After close to a
mile a storm began sweeping its way through the valley. Within moments of the
storm hitting they had become hopelessly lost. With the combined effects of
fatigue, extreme cold and this new hazard it soon became too much for Emmy. She
fell to her knees and then keeled forward before passing out. Esteban did not
even notice. Within less than a minute, he too, was unconscious.
The cell bore much similarity to the one
that had initially held him back in Australia. At least there was no attempt at
sensory deprivation this time so he guessed that whoever was holding him was
not aware of his abilities. This was good. There was not a prison in the world
that could hold Jimmy Johnson. All he had to do was wait for his escape route
to be revealed to him.
In the meantime, he could only pray that
no harm had come to Emmy and the soldiers. He knew they would disagree, but he
saw the failure of the mission as entirely his fault. If not for his inability
to predict the attack their plan would have succeeded. He had let them down.
It had started with the train. That was
the first time one of his visions had not come to pass. Given that a hundred
people should have died that day, he did not think that getting it wrong was
such a bad thing. Since then it had been happening frequently, though he kept
this to himself. That was why he was not concerned when he saw Emmy’s parachute
accident. His predictions seemed even more likely to fail when she was
involved.
A part of him hoped his failure signalled
that he was recovering from the psychic radiation. His powers had manifested
gradually so he saw no reason why they would not fade in the same way. In time
he may even be free of the visions completely. When that day came, he may not
have to die twice.
***
‘What went wrong?’ asked the general.
‘Your orders were simple. Bring the girl and eliminate the rest.’
‘I am sorry, General,’ replied Major
Heng. ‘Perception can be misleading on the astral plane. Of the four
individuals encountered, the one taken had by far the most unique energy
signature. It was the only one to carry the infection referenced in Professor
Nguyen’s notes.’
‘It was supposed to be a she and she is
not infected. Your poor judgement could prove costly, Major. Do we even know
what became of Dr Rayne?’
‘We cannot be certain, but we must assume
that she survived. It is doubtful that anybody else would have been able to
improvise so effective a weapon in so little time.’
‘And what about Lieutenant Yu?’
‘He was disorientated, but shows no
lasting side effects. The only real damage was to the primary generator. Our
engineers estimate it will be offline for 48 hours.’
‘In that case, I want it repaired and
fully operational in 24. Do you understand, Major?’
‘Yes, General. I will relay this order at
once.’
‘Excellent. Do not disappoint me again.
You will return to your duties. I, meanwhile, have prisoners to interrogate.’
The major bowed, respectfully, before
returning to his post.
General Tao’s next port of call was the
infected boy they had apprehended in Dr Rayne’s place. In all his experience
working with the radiation in both animals and humans, it had been found to be
highly unstable. Animals became aggressive and humans were driven insane. To
have captured a survivor who did not display the negative effects was a gift
from the Gods. This prisoner could turn out to be the key to unlocking the full
destructive potential of this new technology. Ultimate power was within his
grasp and he intended to reach out and take it.
***
When the general finally came, he was not
accompanied by guards. They were not necessary. He had over thirty years of
combat experience to his name. Charlie had not so much as been in a fight at
High School. Any physical conflict between the two would be over in a
heartbeat. It would also be Charlie’s last heartbeat. As both men were fully
aware of the inevitable outcome of a fight neither needed to be on their guard.
The scientist remained on his bed, but
swung his legs around to adopt an upright seated position. It is always best to
stay below the natural eye line of a predator.
‘You will no doubt be glad to hear that
your friend is still at large,’ the general said. ‘We do, however, expect this
to be merely a temporary inconvenience. The means of her elimination is being
put together as we speak.’
‘Elimination?’
Charlie could feel the panic building in
the pit of his stomach. He had been betrayed. The plan had always been to bring
her in. Convince her to defect. Elimination had never even been on the agenda.
At least that is what he had thought. He now realised that he had been a fool
to have trusted General Tao.
‘You should be pleased,’ the general told
him. ‘Finally, your work will bear fruit. You see, I have taken the data you
provided and used it on a little side project of my own. The hostage we took
was the final piece of the puzzle.’
‘Hostage?’
‘Yes, one more precious than even Emmy
Rayne herself. He is another survivor from Jackson’s Hill. The only to survive
exposure to the radiation, I believe. He is now the key to achieving the full
potential of your technology. A sample of his DNA is being examined as I speak.
If my intuition is correct, we should be able to use it to synthesize a
stabilizing compound for the radiation. Soon our dominance will no longer be
confined to the astral plane.’
‘You’re crazy. The radiation cannot be
controlled. That is why we have been disposing of it. It is much too
dangerous.’
The general smiled. His prisoner was
truly naive.
‘Not disposing – collecting. I have had a
second team working on distilling the radiation into a serum. A serum that will
make our armies invincible. In fact, we will no longer require armies. Why
employ thousands of men when all it takes is one to bring down an empire?’
‘You’re insane.’
‘And you are in prison, where you shall
remain for a very long time. Unless, of course, you choose to help us.’
Charlie did not need to weigh up the options
placed in front of him. To him there was only one.
‘I will never help you ever again,’ he
told the general. Then standing and looking the other man squarely in the eye,
he added: ‘I have seen a much greater man than you destroy himself. The path
you deign to follow leads only to your destruction. If you are lucky, you will
lose only your life and not your soul.’
Tao was surprised by the weaker man’s
candour. Was this a threat or a warning? The last man to threaten him had met
with his end not long after. He wondered if perhaps allowing Charlie to live
may not be quite so auspicious after all. On the other hand, there were more
painful ways to punish a man than with death.
‘Tomorrow we attack. And you, Dr Nguyen,
are going to have a front row seat. I suggest you get some sleep. After
tomorrow, I guarantee your nights will be forever tortured by nightmares.’
The general left and Charlie lay back
down on his bed. If the general really did intend on unleashing the radiation
in whatever form, pretty soon the whole world would be having nightmares and
not the kind that they could ever wake from.
He lay still and closed his eyes, but did
not sleep. Then after maybe an hour he heard a voice. It was female and vaguely
familiar.
‘Why did you betray us?’
He did not immediately answer. Instead,
he was trying to comprehend how the girl could have made it past two levels of
the most advanced security system in the world and then have gained access to
his cell. His cell, which was still locked.
Actually, he had a far more pressing
question. He wanted to know how she could be anywhere at all. So far as he was
aware, Lucy Skye was dead.
Emmy woke with a start. The sensation was
like returning from an astral trip. It took her a while to realise where she
was. Or rather, where she was not. Her last memory had been of trudging through
the snow with Esteban. They had tried and failed to relocate the entrance to
the tunnels and then...blackness.
She must have passed out. If that was the
case, she reasoned Esteban must have carried her the rest of the way. His
injuries could not have been as bad as she initially feared. The question was;
where was he now?
She was in a small chamber with bare
stone walls. Illumination was in the form of a thick candle placed on a recess
carved into one of the walls. Apart from the bed, which had been comfortable
albeit firm, there was no other furniture in the room. Her pack had been placed
in the corner and everything appeared to be in order.
As she rose to her feet, her body felt
stiff and painful like she had completed a marathon the day before and
forgotten to stretch. A few shallow lacerations had been cut into her hands,
which she noticed had been cleaned and bandaged to prevent an infection from
setting in. Apart from that, there was nothing to show how close she had come
to death.
‘Hello?’ She opened the door with
caution. ‘Esteban, are you there?’
The corridor was empty. As with the bed
chamber, it was illuminated only by candlelight. There were no windows. She
figured that maybe she was back underground, but could not be sure. The air
felt different. It felt thinner. Of course, that could just be down to her
weakened state. Emmy had long ago learned not to place too much trust in her
physical senses. Rather than try one of the two other doors leading off from
the corridor she decided to follow it to the end. It terminated at the foot of
a stone spiral staircase.
Her only option was to climb the stairs.
She took down one of the candles to guide her way as this time there was no
light emanating from within. The steps were narrow and slippery so she used her
free hand to stabilise herself by placing it on the inner spiral. The rock felt
cold to her touch. It was almost freezing, reminding her of her geographic
location. After 37 steps (she could not resist the impulse to count them) she
came to a wooden door. The hinges were cast from thick steel, but it had no
lock. It would not be necessary to use plastic explosive like Jack had with the
one in the caves.
Just thinking of the dead soldier was
like swallowing a sharp rock, tearing at her insides as it made its way down to
her gut. His was not the first dead body she had seen. Many had died in front
of her eyes and all of them soldiers, most no older than Jack.
How old was he – 23, 24? Such a
terrible waste
. The numbers did not
make the loss any less painful or the tragedy any less unjust.
She pushed on the door. As it swung
outward, she had no real idea of what she would find on the other side. An
abandoned temple, a supply depot – it could be anything. A food hall filled
with ravenous monks had certainly not crossed her mind.
***
Dr Stark sat with a smug grin spread
across her face as the colonel looked over the report she had prepared. She
always suspected that Emmy had been holding out on them. They all did. Now she
not only had the confirmation, but the evidence as well. After this, she was
guaranteed to be assigned full control of the project.
‘And all of this has been verified?’ the
colonel asked.
‘Yes, sir,’ she replied. ‘Emmy did a good
job of destroying much of her original notes from the program at Jackson’s
Hill, but she did not delete everything. I came across this in a previously
overlooked entry in Charles Nguyen’s journal. As you can imagine, he was
spooked by what they discovered that night. Who wouldn’t be? It’s not every day
that one encounters a ghost.’
The colonel briefly glanced up from the
paper to gauge the scientist’s body language. The dilation of her pupils
indicated she was speaking in earnest. She genuinely believed that this latest
development involved the paranormal.
‘I assume there are other interpretations
of the events,’ he said, hoping to bring the scientist back down to Earth.
‘Sure, there are alternate theories, but
none so elegant. This explains why she was so reluctant to cooperate. It
completely dwarfs the significance of any prior application of the technology.
It also explains what we encountered during yesterday’s disastrous experiment.
In time, we may actually have a direct line to the afterlife.’
‘You make too many assumptions,’ said the
colonel. ‘I thought that science dealt only with evidence.’
‘The evidence is in your hands.’
‘The script to a particularly bad episode
of the Twilight Zone is in my hands. When you make contact with Elvis, I may
begin to believe you have something to work with. Until then, I expect you to
tread with your feet on the ground. I’m already getting it in the ass over the
debacle with the Chinese. If we take this to Washington without something more
concrete they’ll think we’re merely fabricating the whole thing to cover our
failures. If you want me to take this seriously, you’re going to have to
provide a specimen.’
‘A specimen?’
‘I think you know what I mean. If you
want me to believe in ghosts – I want to see a ghost. The next time something
turns up in the base that shouldn’t, you’re going to trap it.’
***
The monk placed a bowl of soup in front of
Emmy before joining her at the table. Apart from a couple of muted nods of
acknowledgement, his brethren paid her little attention. In the whole time
since she had woken she had not seen another woman.
‘I guess I have you to thank for saving
me,’ she said to the monk who had given her the soup, not really expecting a
verbal response in return.
A non committal smile confirmed her
assumption.
‘You’re probably wondering what two
foreigners are doing lost in the mountains so far away from the designated
camps. Hell, I’m starting to wonder that myself.’
She raised a spoonful of the soup to her
mouth expecting it to be hot. It was actually at the perfect temperature for
consumption. Once she had drained the spoon, she placed it onto the table and
lifted the bowl with both hands. Her ordeal had left her weak and that first
taste of sustenance ignited her cravings like a drug. She sucked and slurped at
the delicious liquid inside until there was none left. As she placed the now
empty bowl back onto the table, she noticed that the monk sat opposite was
staring intently.
‘You must think me such a slob,’ she said,
brushing away a dribble of soup from her chin with the back of her hand.
‘Not at all,’ the monk replied. ‘I am
just happy to see that your strength has returned.’
Emmy was taken aback. She had assumed the
monk was unable to understand her.
‘You speak English?’
‘Yes, though not as well as I would
like.’
‘Well, you sound pretty fluent to me.’
‘Thank you. Your kindness is most
appreciated.’
Emmy blushed.
‘My kindness? If anything, it is I who
should be thanking you. We would have frozen to death for sure in that storm.
Where is Esteban, by the way?’
‘Esteban? This is the gentleman you were
with – yes?’
‘We are colleagues. Our team was sent to
survey the mountain and we got separated from the group.’
‘There are others?’
‘No, I mean, yes. You should not worry
about that. Can I see Esteban?’
She was not comfortable lying to somebody
who had shown only kindness and therefore hoped he would not press the matter
too much. Luckily for her, he did not. She was informed that Esteban’s
injuries, though not serious, would require more recuperation time than her few
cuts and bruises. He was still sleeping and she would be advised as soon as he
woke.
After the dining hall had cleared the
monks returned to their daily duties whilst Emmy was given a tour of the
monastery. Her host was named Yonten. He explained to her how his order had
been displaced during the Chinese occupation. Those who were not killed were
put into prison and only a small number now remained. For decades they had
existed hidden in exile, but now they were returning to the mountains, albeit
in extreme isolation, such as the settlement she now found herself a part of.
‘We discovered some tunnels earlier,’ she
told him. ‘They were abandoned, but the artwork and architecture is very
similar to what you have shown me today.’
‘It is possible they once belonged to
this order. There are ways in and out of this building that even I am not aware
of. Was there anything in particular that interested you in these tunnels?’
She paused for a moment to go over her
cover story.
‘There were some paintings that caught my
attention. I think they may have related to astral travel.’
The monk presented open palms. She
guessed this was his equivalent to a shrug.
‘I took photographs, but my camera
was...lost in the storm.’
‘That is unfortunate. If it would please
you, I am happy to show you what paintings we have here. Perhaps they are
similar.’
‘I would be honoured.’
The monk escorted Emmy to another
chamber. It was one of the larger rooms she had seen and it housed an altar at
one end, which was occupied by a golden statue of the seated Buddha. Incense
burned either side of the figure, lending an intoxicating, almost dreamlike
ambience to the place. A series of pictograms lined each of the walls adjacent
to the altar and they resembled those in the underground temple. There was one
notable difference, however. None depicted the ethereal silver cord, as the
scientists affectionately referred to the bond between the conscious mind and
the body.
‘Do these images tell a story?’ Emmy asked
the monk.
‘Yes, a story,’ he replied. ‘It is not
one that you will hear outside of these mountains. This is the legend of
Meh-Teh.’
The central figure in the drawings began
to appear more familiar. She now recognised its unique shape and bearing.
‘You are talking about the Abominable
Snowman, aren’t you? These pictures are of a yeti.’
‘You are sceptical of the legend?’
Emmy could not conceal her amusement,
though she was careful not to offend.
‘It is nothing more than what you say – a
legend. At best it could be some rare species of bear or big cat that has
strayed from its territory. I do not accept the existence of mythical beings.’
‘Fortunately, belief is not a
prerequisite of existence. And Meh-Teh is more than a myth. A thousand years
ago there were members of my order who had mastered the power of meditation to
such an extent that they could leave their Earthly vessels and travel on a
higher plane.’
Emmy’s spine went rigid. The monk was
confirming her interpretation of the paintings in the caves, though he himself
may not have seen them. What is magic to one person is science to another. Was
it really possible that others could have mastered her same achievements
without the aid of advanced technology?
‘What does astral travel have to do with
yetis?’ she asked.
The monk shook his head, but he did so
with a smile on his face.
‘I think that there is great disparity in
our understanding,’ the monk told her. ‘Your mind is corrupted by your
Hollywood movies. When people bear testament to having been in the presence of
Meh-Teh what they have witnessed is the tulpa.’
‘Tulpa?’
‘Tulpa is consciousness made solid. It is
when an individual makes real what they see in their mind’s eye. The most
gifted monk can project his consciousness into a second body that is able to
survive the extreme conditions of the mountains. Of course, this is an ancient
practice and nobody has been able to achieve it for hundreds of years.’
Although she did not say it, Emmy knew
that the monk was wrong. The tulpa had returned to the mountains, but they did
not come through meditation. That was Charlie’s big secret. That was what had
defeated them and killed Jack and taken Jimmy. They were projecting their
thoughts into a physical and possibly indestructible second body.
‘Were they dangerous?’ she asked.
The question took the monk by surprise.
‘Our order is peaceful and has been for
as long as its followers have inhabited these mountains. In theory, a tulpa
could be used to commit malevolent acts, but none who possessed the strength of
mind to create one would ever have used it for such ends. If they did, there
are sacred chants that would neutralise the being. But as I say, that is not
necessary.’
‘Chants?’
‘We use many mantras. Most commonly, they
are to clear the mind for meditation, but there are some with more practical
uses. One such verse can be used to calm an excited tulpa.’