Black Onyx (9 page)

As he concentrated, emptying his mind and allowing the suit to guide him with its momentum, the speed only increased. He had to see where he was going using the periphery of his vision, much like
speed-reading. Everything else was distorted and out of focus.

He flew until his back ached and his neck was throbbing from the strain. When he finally slowed, he was so far inland he could hardly see the ocean. He was hovering over a massive city, the lights sparkling as brightly underneath him as those in the sky. Coming in low, he could see a dance club with a line outside. He spotted a park nearby and landed among some trees. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, the suit was open. Stepping out, the warm weather was like a blanket around him
, and he could smell the fresh scent of grass and trees.

He was wearing thermal pants and a Columbia collared shirt with
Vibram shoes. Not the best outfit for fitting in, but not the worst either. The suit, he found earlier, was essentially immobile. It weighed probably upwards of two to three thousand pounds, James had guessed, and even with a winch and five men they couldn’t budge it. Dillon wasn’t worried about theft.

Walking across the park, he got to the main street and tried to look at the license plate
s on the cars passing him. He was able to speak some Spanish and though the language on the plates was close, it wasn’t identical. It was Portuguese. He was in Brazil, though he couldn’t guess which city.

He walked across the street and found the club that he had eyed. The line was only ten or so deep and he waited. There was no cover charge and he knew the watered down alcohol was where they made their money.

The club was packed and the heavy bass of the music vibrated his feet. He walked to the bar, which was off to the side and a little quieter than the main floor. He sat and the bartender came to him.

“
O que posso fazer por você?”

“Um, English?”

“Sim. A little.”

“Heineken?”

“Sim.”

The bartender took out a Heineken and popped the top. “
Isso será de quatro real.”

“I only have dollars,” Dillon said, taking out a small wad of cash he had brought in his shirt pocket.

“Five dollars.”

He handed hi
m the cash and took a sip of beer. Turning to look at the writhing bodies in the club, he realized he missed home. Not home, exactly. He missed Jaime. He thought about calling her but knew he couldn’t hear her inside with all the noise. And it was probably the middle of the night back in Honolulu.

“You’re definitely American,” he heard a
n accented voice say. He looked over to see an attractive blond, about his age, sit down next to him. She held up a cigarette and waited.

Dillon reached to the package of matches on the bar. He struck one and then lit her cigarette.

“How can you tell?”

“Only an American would wear pajamas to a party in this country. Everyone else is trying to show off how rich they are.”

He sipped his beer. “You got me. And they’re not pajamas although I have slept in them an awkward number of times.”

“So, what brings you to Sao Paulo?”

“Is that where I am? Huh. I’ve never been here actually.”

“Wow. You don’t even know what city you’re in? You are the adventurer.
Or a junkie. Which is it?”

“Right now, not much of either.”

“Why?” she said, blowing out a puff of smoke. “You not feeling well?”

“I hav
e an opportunity that I’m not sure I’m prepared to handle.”

“Well, my father always told me to try new things because you never know what was going to change you.”

“You believe that, huh? That people can change?”

“You don’t
?”

“I don’t think so. I think we’re pretty much born the way we are. It comes with the package.”

“Hmm,” she said, placing her hand on his thigh, “that’s such a sad way to view things. Are you sad right now? ‘Cause I think I may be able to help.”

“Try new things, huh?”

“That’s my…como é que se diz? My motto.”

He pulled out his remaining cash. “And I suppose this would be enough to experience that motto?”

“It would be close.”

He grinned and finished his beer, handing her the cash. “Keep it. I have to go.”

“Really? You don’t want anything?”

“You helped me make up my mind about something. Consider it a consultation fee.”

She smiled and placed the cash in her bra, leaning in and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Well good luck in your adventure then, jungle man.”

18

It was morning in Honolulu and Dillon woke up early, about six, and called James.

“
Where the devil are you?”

“Back home.”

“Home in Honolulu?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve only been gone twelve hours. Are you telling me you went from Antarctica to Hawaii in twelve hours?”

“No, like two
, actually. I stopped a few places. But that’s not why I’m calling. I want you to know I’m heading to Zaire.”

“Dillon, just stop. Stop whatever you’re doing and just wait for me. I should be there in—”

“You want me to wait for you so you can talk me out of it.”

“You’re bloody damn right I’m talking you out of it. I’ve spoken to George. We’re both in
agreeance that we’re selling the suit to the highest bidder. Henry has already gotten interest from a buyer representing the Israeli government and—”

“I’ll see you when you get here,
James.”

“Dillon, Dillon! Don’t you hang up on me!
”

Dillon hung up. He smiled as he
stood and went out to the garage. The suit was there, in the corner. He went up and touched it before going back inside and having a shower. Then he came out wearing just sweats and a T-shirt. The suit opened for him and he got inside: the rush of power causing butterflies in his stomach.

He opened the garage, ensuring no one was on the street, grabbed the gym
bag he had prepared the night before, and then rocketed into the sky. He was easily two hundred feet up when he stopped and looked down to the little island that had been his home for so long. It was quiet up here, quieter than anywhere else he had ever experienced in his life, and he enjoyed the silence a bit before placing the strap of the gym bag around his chest and then drifting forward. He straightened out, and began gaining speed.

Before he knew
it, he was over Japan, and then China, and then India, and then the Arabian Peninsula. He would stop every so often and check the GPS on his iPhone to ensure he was heading the right way, but his flight was surprisingly accurate for how quickly he was moving. It was almost as if the suit knew where he wanted to go and took him there.

Africa appeared different than everywhere else. It had every environment of every other country. Deserts and mountains covered in ice and snow, and thick jungles and forests and rocky
, almost alien, terrain. To someone that’d never been here before it could be like going to Mars.

But Dillon knew the Congo well. They’d been here before but had been denied access in Zaire to going anywhere near the diamond mines.

Diamonds are one of the most abundant minerals on earth. They are, in reality, worthless. But because the De Beers company had stockpiled them and worked out monopolies with foreign governments, they cut supply and increased demand, making diamonds more expensive than gold.

And to the tribes and warlords that were granted protection and mining contracts with De Beers in the third-world countries they mined, it was a fortune.
One that had caused slaughter and mass rape and genocide. And they guarded their fountains of wealth viciously.

Dillon knew exactly where he was going.
A mine near Zaire, known to only a few. James—and his contacts in the Congo—were some of those few.

Dillon found the large mountain shaped like an ice cream cone, covered in lush green vegetation
, the sun bright in the sky. He put away his phone in the gym bag and slowly made his way down. On the far side, crowds of men worked in the large mine. He could see children hauling supplies in and out of the mine, their faces caked in dirt and sweat. Some of them unable to afford shoes, their feet leaving bloody tracks in the dirt paths.

Dillon took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
What the hell am I doing?
he said to himself.
Getting rich
, was the reply.

He jumped off the mounta
in in a free dive, headfirst, and gained speed as his chest was several inches from the jagged rocks below. Then he pulled himself up and twisted around, aimed directly at the entrance of the mine. He pointed himself like an arrow and shot inside the mine, a gust of wind and a blur the only things the miners experienced.

The mine was lit with lamps. He navigated the narrow corridors until he came to a large vein that several miners were busy at. He slowed, but couldn’t stop.

“Whoa…whoaaaaa—”

He slammed into the
stone wall, massive chunks of stone breaking away and the space filling with dust and dirt. Dillon found himself on his back and he slowly rose. The miners were coughing and running: they thought it was a collapse.

Dillon turned to the vein and could see enormous chunks of pure diamond. He began tearing them out of the wall like a bulldozer and s
hoving handfuls into his gym bag. He was able to tear into the walls in a way the miner’s machines weren’t able to. He felt grumblings underneath his feet and knew that the mine was weak, set up with just enough precautions so they could get the diamonds but not enough to ensure the safety of the workers.

He filled half his
gym bag, digging further and further down, before he turned and began flying out of the mine. At the very lip was a young boy. His feet were cut and he was malnourished. He stood silently and watched the figure floating above him.

Dillon reached into his
gym bag and took out a large diamond. He flung it to the boy, who immediately hid it in his clothing. Dillon winked at him.

He shot into the air and was gone.

19

Night had just fallen as
Dillon sat on the beach, a towel laid out in front of him. On it were, by his estimation, about four million dollars in unrefined milky diamonds. The moonlight was reflecting off the water in shattered splinters, making the light appear like it was alive. Dillon watched the stars as he heard footsteps behind him and Jaime sat down next to him.

“Sounds like another party at your house,” Dillon said.

“Just my family. I want you to meet them, actually. My mom is really anxious to meet you. She saw your article in
Outside
.”

He looked to her. “Really?”

“Don’t be so shocked, it was a nice article.”

“Read by ten people, three of which were my friends. Doesn’t matter
, though. I’ve got something that…Jaime, I don’t even know how to describe it.”

“What?”

“No, I’m not going to tell you. I’m going to show you. Tonight. Give me…one hour.”

“Oh,” she said with a smile, “why Mr.
Mentzer, you have me intrigued.”

“You majored in art history, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. You’re
gonna love it. One hour?”

“
One hour.”

Dillon gathered his towel, making sure the diamonds were hidden, just as the alarm on his watch went off. It was time to go.

“One hour,” he said, walking away.

She just smiled
and watched him leave.

Dillon was
in the suit above the clouds. He drifted over them lazily, dipping his hand into them as if he were on a boat with his fingers running over the surface of water. Then he remembered he had a schedule to keep. He could play later.

He ducked his head and aligned his body, shooting forward with such force his stomach seemed to jump into his throat. It was a silent force
and inside the suit he could only hear a soft wind.

The dark landscape was before him as he checked his GPS. He was less than a mile from where he need
ed to be. Flying down, he came to the top of a small hill overlooking a village. Thrusting out his legs, he slammed into the earth, his hands down on the ground, the suit absorbing the impact. He stood up, his eyes taking on the blue glow that turned on in the dark.