In Situ (4 page)

“Of all the great and courageous Hunters,” Fet continued, “who grace our presence this night and all that have passed into the void, I know of not one who has done battle singly with the great two legged Evil Ones and triumphed!”

There was another huge gasp from the floor.
Fet knew she was on shaky ground. Mot had technically broken clan law simply by venturing out, but she could see many heads shake from side to side, and she knew her words were reaching them. Fet also knew she was risking her own demise, but she was old and tired and had seen the fire in the sky herself. The world was ending so that a new one could be born. If the Zanta Clan was to survive to become a part of the new, then Fet and the other females of the clan had devised the only way she thought it could be done. She was determined now that she wanted Mot to be a part of it.

“I say
neither banishment, nor death tonight for Mot. I say let Mot take a place among the others we have chosen for the great sleep. I say let the Creator ultimately decide if he is a worthy Arzat.” Fet was done. They will or they won’t, she thought to herself, and then sat down. At least I can look Za’a directly in the eye and say that I tried.

For a moment, the
Great Chamber was silent, then it erupted. The Arzats had heard the premonitions of the Astronomers and the Priests, and largely believed what they had been told. Still, most of them had tried to ignore the predictions of doomsday and simply carry on with their lives, which had been lived in the same way under the same rules for countless seasons. What was there to do about it anyway? Fet had suddenly reminded them of the coming end of the world in a way that sent panic through the ranks.

“Silence!” Ag said loudly in an immediate attempt to regain control, banging his hunting stick on the floor.
“Silence!”

The
Chamber gradually quieted, much to Ag’s relief. If it hadn’t, he was prepared to kill Fet and as many Arzats as it took to restore order—not a pleasant prospect. He was furious at Fet. She had cornered both Ag and Xan, and had effectively rendered their opinions moot, an unheard of usurping of Council authority. If the Council now ordered Mot’s death or banishment, given Fet’s unforeseen alternative, it might incite a riot. Ag was trapped. Then, in the midst of all of the chaos, he suddenly had the solution. He would let Url decide. Ag knew Url well and was confident that the great Hunter would side with him. Surely Url would not want his son mixed up with any of this nonsense the females had cooked up regarding some “great sleep.”

“Url,” Ag called out, “great Hunter and father of Mot
, son of Ra, what do you say?”

Url had worked himself practically into a trance during the proceeding
s. He was almost certain that Mot would be condemned to death and executed this very evening despite Fet’s rant. In fact, when Ag had called for Mot’s death rather than banishment, Url breathed a sigh of relief. Since then, he had been gazing blankly at the Fire, which had burned to embers and was in need of fuel. He had hardly been listening, so it took some effort for him to bring his focus back to the present. When he finally looked up, all of the eyes in the Chamber were on him.

“Url,” Ag repeated
, impatient, trying not to hiss. “Do you have an opinion on this matter?” Ag longed to be done with this meeting. His legs and back ached from standing, and he needed to relieve himself. If Fet had just kept her mouth shut this issue would have been resolved, and he could be enjoying a good crap and, perhaps later, the attention of the same young Arzat female with whom his evening had originally begun. Instead, he had suddenly been pressed into trying to avoid a clan revolution. Ag shifted his weight and tightly gripped his hunting stick until he felt the wood choking, imagining it to be Fet’s neck. Females! He looked at Fet, and forced his most patient and understanding smile as he waited for Url’s response, careful to avoid allowing her to detect the extreme rage inside his head.

Url, who was one of the most successful Hunters in the clan, enjoyed a tremendous level of respect.
Without great Hunters, the Arzats would not eat. Many of the stories that were recounted around the Great Fire and carved into stone involved Url and some act of bravery or cunning that had resulted in dinner for the clan. Tonight, he had been one of the eight who had waited at the entrance and slain the dreaded two-legged lizards. No one in the Chamber doubted that they would someday face Url as an Elder, which gave further weight to his opinion.

Url tried to clear his head.
Only once or twice in all his seasons had he been directly called upon by the Council. Any response demanded the proper protocol, and he found himself fighting for the right words. Killing the giant lizards had been much easier. All of the Arzat eyes in the room were on him. Now, suddenly, it looked as if he was to be given a choice regarding the fate of his only remaining son. He looked over at Mot, carefully weighing the options, and then finally rose to speak.

“Thank you
, Elder Ag. Thank you, Council,” Url said, slightly bowing his head, “for allowing my opinion, but I do not see how I can be fair in this matter. Mot is my only living son, so my instinct to preserve his life overrules any reasonable judgment I might otherwise have regarding his behavior. And, while I cannot condone his actions, I think I understand them, for I was once young and curious as well. It is said in the stories of the ancients, that our inquisitive nature as a race was the characteristic that led us out of the dark and into the light of intelligence. But the law is the law, and if the Council decides that Mot has broken it, and that
death
is the punishment, I will abide by the decision. With respect, however, if you ask me to vote for my son’s life or death, I will vote life—at least for the chance of it.”

*

Cheers erupted in the Chamber. Fet and Url had won the argument. Ag was forced to quickly lead the Council to vote in favor of allowing Mot to participate in whatever Fet had cooked up as a way of saving the Arzat race and the Zanta Clan. Personally, Ag highly doubted the process Fet had outlined to the Council regarding long term hibernation, but, so be it. This allowed him to dispose of Mot without killing him or banishing him, and seemed to satisfy everyone concerned. Url had been the one to finally decide, based on a direct request from the Council, so the appearance of the Elder’s ultimate authority had been preserved.

D
one with the matter, Ag was the first to depart the Great Chamber, relieved that the Arzats had not rioted and that order had been maintained. I must retire from this nonsense, he vaguely thought to himself as he headed down the long tunnel toward the communal lavatory. In the meantime, he thought, perhaps a bath in the warm springs with that attractive young female might ease the stress of his important position.

It had taken about twenty minutes for the air to settle enough to allow Alex to approach the dig site. She carefully stepped over the loose rocks that covered the area she had been excavating. Several tons of fresh earth was now layered between her and her discovery. The Einstein-osaur belonged to the mountain again. Her wonderful specimen, even if she could ever find it, would probably have been ground to dust from the force of the falling rocks, along with her computer, her camera, her notes, and all evidence of her discovery.

Alex sat on a
large boulder and tried to calm down. She could feel her heart racing, and her head was hot with rage. She listened for the wise words of her father, but there was nothing in the desert air except dust and silence. After a while, when she thought she could stand it, she looked back over at the debris that now covered her dinosaur and her anger returned. “Those assholes,” she said as she got up and headed back down the hill, walking briskly, the snake now completely forgotten, “those friggin’ assholes!”

*

Apart from her computer, camera, note book, her precious tools, and her basic supplies, there were three other pieces of equipment Alex always brought to her digs: her pickup truck, her motorcycle, and her gun. The pickup truck was to get her there. The dirt bike was for short errands and scouting. The gun, well, the desert was no place to be without one, especially if you were a solo female. Her proficiency in the use of all three could be attributed directly to her father and to the fact that she had grown up in the country. Simon had put her on her first motorcycle at five, taught her to drive the ranch truck by age twelve, and helped her learn to properly handle a firearm by fifteen. She was now as good as or better than any man she knew with all of them.

Alex pulled out a ramp from the back of the truck and set it in place, then carefully backed her motorcycle down it. It was essentially a dirt bike, but it had lights and blinkers so she could run it on the street
when necessary. She rummaged around in the cab for a spare backpack and shoved in a bottle of water from her ice chest, her ID, and her Ruger semi-automatic from the glove compartment—checking it to make sure it was loaded.

Alex strapped on her helmet, threw her backpack over her shoulders, fired up her motorcycle
, and fishtailed up the road. Her father had always used motorcycles to hunt for dig sites, and Alex had ridden with him until she had finally demanded a bike of her own. They were much more versatile than four wheelers and could get into and out of places that would leave most ATVs stuck. Alex was an expert with a motorcycle on the dirt and not bad with one on the street. Even so, she was normally a fairly careful rider. Now she was anything but.

*

The afternoon sun was just about to set as Alex swiftly rode toward what she thought was the direction of the explosions. She wanted to find the guys who had ruined her dinosaur before they left for the day. She gassed the throttle and sped down the gravel road looking for an access in the direction of the blasts. Alex was certain the miners who had set off the charges must be close by. As she approached the highway, she spotted another dirt road that she had not seen before and took it. It looped through a shallow canyon and rose up onto a plateau, in essence, to the top of the cliff over her camp.

When she reached the summit she stopped the bike. Nothing could have prepared her for what she now saw. Below her, in a huge section of flat desert that looked like an ancient
lake bed, not more than a half mile from her campsite, was a vast compound of modular buildings and a lot of heavy equipment. The complex was situated in a large natural bowl about a mile across in all directions that looked to be entirely surrounded by a high chain-link fence topped with coils of barbed wire. The sun had just disappeared over the horizon, and lights were beginning to come on around the buildings. A few gigantic dump trucks were appearing like magic from the desert floor, fully loaded and heading for what appeared to be a huge manmade mountain of debris. Miners, she thought again, confirming her earlier suspicions. Just as the thought crossed her mind, another series of explosions shook the air.

Alex was amazed tha
t she hadn’t been aware of their activity in all of the time she had been working so close by. She tried to remember hearing noises before. It was impossible that there wouldn’t have been a lot of it with all of the commotion she could now see going on below her. Off in the distance, on the far side of the complex, there appeared to be a main entrance with a guard house and gate. As she watched, she noticed a large tractor-trailer rig flanked by two black SUVs leaving the facility.

That’s where I need to go, she thought.

Alex examined the hill from the top, and found a passage she thought she could rock-hop over on the dirt bike. If she could just get down to it, there was a perimeter road that followed the outside of the fence line. Otherwise, she would have to backtrack out to her camp and take the dirt road to the highway and then try to find the paved access, or she could walk from where she was. Alex was too pissed for either of the slower options, and it was getting dark fast.

She fired up her
bike, took a deep breath, and plunged over the side of the embankment, nursing the motorcycle over several large boulders. Alex had lots of experience traversing rocky terrain, so she was able to successfully maneuver down the hillside and get to the fence line.

Alex
realized when she finally reached the bottom that the fence was much higher than she had initially thought. It was at least 12 feet of cyclone topped with another three feet of barbed-wire coil. Every 100 feet or so, signs attached to it warned would-be intruders: BY ORDER OF THE U.S. GOV’T
NO HUNTING OR TRESPASSING
$100,000 FINE OR IMPRISONMENT

The fence h
eld other signs that advised that it was also electrically charged. Uninvited guests were obviously not welcome. Screw that, she thought. What the hell were they mining anyway?

Alex
cranked the throttle and spun her rear tire as she headed toward the main gate, blasting through the gears. Even in twilight, she realized the dust from her motorcycle could have been seen for miles. This would be no surprise entrance. As she neared the gate, Alex was shocked to see an armored military vehicle rapidly approaching from inside the complex. Her anger cooled for a moment. These guys looked serious. She slowed her motorcycle and coasted around the corner of the guard shack and almost ran into two young military men, helmets on and weapons drawn, looking very edgy and nervous.

“Stop the vehic
le,” one of them commanded with a hand held out, his rifle cradled against his shoulder and pointed directly at Alex.

Alex had already stopped, so she too
k the hint and killed the motor, very careful to keep her hands in sight. The last thing she needed on this already shitty day was to get shot, and these young men looked quite capable of making a mistake.

“Step awa
y from the vehicle,” the same young man ordered her. “Keep your arms raised from your sides and your hands in sight!”

Alex was getting pissed again. What the hell was going on here? This was United States soil she was standing on. She raised her arms
nonetheless and got off her motorcycle, slowly stepping to the side. As she did so, the armored vehicle that she had spotted earlier slid to a stop just behind the two officers and another contingent of eight military personnel exited, all drawing their weapons as they stepped down. A spotlight was suddenly switched on that practically blinded her. It was already getting very dark. When Alex instinctively moved her hand to cover her eyes, she heard chambers loading all around her.

“Can I at least remove my helmet?” she spoke loudly and clearly to the young officer.

He nodded, but continued to hold his weapon high.

Alex carefully unstrapped her helmet and slowly worked it off her head, her long hair falling to her back
in the process. She could feel the tension break as she gently set her helmet on the handlebars of the bike and looked the young man directly in the eye.

The officer finally lowered his rifle, glancing at hi
s partner in the process. “Miss, I need to see some ID, please.”

Alex remembered the pistol she had in her pack, right next to her ID. Oh boy, trouble, she thought. “I am happy to do that officer
, but I also wish to inform you that my identification is in my backpack along with a firearm that I am licensed to carry,” she said. Tension again. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she could see someone running toward the gate from one of the modular trailers.

“Hold on
, Sergeant,” she could hear him yelling as he approached. It was a voice she knew. “You can stand down, Sergeant. You can all stand down!”

Out of the shadows emerged the face she
knew would go with the voice, but it was also a face she certainly didn’t expect to see. It was her ex-husband, Tom.

*

It had taken several minutes for Tom to sort things out with the guards. Even with him vouching for her, Alex still had to produce her ID and, under much protest on her part, to surrender her prized Ruger to the Sergeant. After several phone calls from the guard shack, Tom was finally able to clear Alex for entry into the complex.

He
had eventually ushered her across the grounds to what Alex assumed was his office. It was larger than she would have imagined, a full double wide modular. A desk sat in one corner, with a conference table that was more or less centered in the room and surrounded with folding chairs. The room was quite dark, with the only light coming from a lamp on Tom’s desk, as if he had forgotten about the onset of night. Even in the gloom, she could see diagrams and blueprints that were littered all over; blue-taped to walls and draped over the large table. Along one wall was a series of monitors which were all conspicuously switched off, with the exception of the one that apparently carried the main gate surveillance. Alex noticed a coffee maker and a five gallon water dispenser in another corner and…. Were her eyes playing tricks on her, or was that someone sitting in the back of the room?

“What are you doing here Alex?”

“No, Tom, I think the far more pertinent question is what the hell are
you
doing here? I’ve spent a good part of my life here,” Alex replied, looking around the room. “What is this place anyway? I thought it was a mining operation when I first spotted it, but clearly it’s something more than that.”

“This is a classified location
, Al. I cannot tell you.” Tom slowly replied, spreading his hands, knowing that his answer was not going to fly with Alex. He glanced nervously at the back of the room.

“Can’t tell me, huh?” Calling her Al might have been
OK when they were married, but now it made her bristle. “Classified? What kind of bullshit is this, Tom? Military guards about to shoot
me
—and you can’t tell me what is going on?” She paused, trying to compose herself, now fully aware of the strange presence behind her. To hell with him, she thought. If he wants to be all cloak-and-dagger, so be it.

Alex leaned forward towards Tom. “Well, this is what I can tell you then
: about an hour ago one of your blasts launched a sizable landslide that happened to cover up one of the most magnificent finds of my career, and almost killed me. So I am not so sure, Tom, that I am the one who should be doing the explaining about why I am here. And by the way, who the hell is that?” She nodded towards the stranger. “And don’t you have any lights in this place?” she continued, totally annoyed.

Alex heard a switch and florescent
tubes began to flicker as they came to full power. The stranger in the back had his hands pressed together to his mouth, as if deep in thought or prayer. Alex glanced at him as she waited for some response. The man was staring at her, studying her. His look gave Alex the creeps. He was fifty or so, balding, and looked like he had just stepped off a golf course. His face was red from too much sun like one of those poor guys who could never achieve a healthy tan, but continually tried anyway. She imagined that he probably had those goofy sock lines on his legs that ended abruptly at white ankles. Alex hadn’t seen him do it, but it was obvious that he had turned on the lights since the controls were right behind him.

OK,
Tom, not going to introduce me? Fine, she thought, growing more and more perturbed. She turned back towards her former husband and continued her rant, ignoring the stranger. “I don’t really care if you tell me or not, Tom, because you can just bet that I won’t rest until I find out. Not only did your guys kill my dinosaur for a second time in 60 million years, but my computer, all of my photos, and the rest of my notes went with it. Suffice it to say that I am more than a little pissed.” Alex let her last statement hang in the air. She looked at Tom, then the stranger. The room stayed silent for some time. “Not to mention the fact that then you tried to shoot me,” she added as an afterthought.

“Alex,” Tom pleaded, “no one had any intention of shooting you.”

“Oh yeah, let’s ask that kid out front.”

The mystery man finally adjusted himself in his seat as if he had just finished a great thought. “Go ahead
, Tom, you can tell Ms. Moss.”

“That’s
Dr. Moss
,” Alex said over her shoulder, now even more annoyed. “I’m sorry,” she continued sarcastically, “my ex-husband seems to have forgotten to introduce you.”