“Will you send someone out to look for them?” asked Bishop.
“No,” Sasha said, “Everyone knows we don’t leave the valley in darkness. There are those of us who see just as well at night, as we do in the day, but there is too much danger at night. We will wait until morning.”
“If something happens to the professor, it will be a great loss to us here,” Ramirez added.
Bishop looked at him with a degree of contempt. Ramirez understood the look. “Don’t misunderstand me,” he said to Bishop, “Everyone is important here. Professor Bayek is the one who has been responsible for much of our survival. What he has contributed has prevented many deaths, and allowed others to continue when they should not have.”
Bishop nodded in understanding, and silently berated himself for jumping to a conclusion when he had little understanding of life as it was here.
“We’ll go out in the morning,” Sasha said to Dr. Ramirez.
“I’ll go with you,” Bishop offered.
The search team had little trouble following the trail. There were eight in all. Keith noticed they were solid looking men, no doubt somewhat immune to the environment; one was a giant. Bishop had learned that some of the people had been affected with a second period of growth as a side effect, similar to an adolescent growth spurt, and thus became as giants among the rest. When they arrived at the scene, they saw boot prints in addition to the soft shoes made by the villagers. These prints led to tracks made by motorized vehicles. When they spotted these, they turned to Bishop.
“It could be a scouting party from the mountain. It is quite a distance from here, but they must have found a way to make it,” he said before he paused in thought, “If they have your men, which seems likely, there is nothing we can do.”
The other men were not happy, but they understood. All but one of their group had served in the military, and they knew what they would be facing if they continued in pursuit. They searched the area for other signs suggesting they had made an escape, but it was clear what had happened. They returned to Mezzo before nightfall and reported their findings.
The next day, as Bishop and Sasha were about to leave for Gateway, there was excitement on the path leading out to the rim, as professor Bayek made his return. The two men followed Dr. Ramirez, and a host of others, as they went to meet him.
The doctor walked up to his friend and embraced him. While Bayek reciprocated, it was clear that he was uncomfortable with that type of affection. “What happened to you my friend,” Ramirez asked.
“We were captured, I guess you could say,” Bayek said while taking notice of the stranger who accompanied them.
He turned back to Dr. Ramirez, “Four men, soldiers, in protective suits, came upon us as we were about to leave. They took us on their ATV’s and we headed north. We reached a heavily wooded area with dense thickets. One of the vehicles broke down so we stopped while they repaired it. They must not have thought we were that much of a threat because they didn’t pay close attention to us while they fixed the machine. We were able to make it a hundred yards or so before one of them noticed we were gone; Stephan went one way, and I went another. I saw them catch Stephan, but when they couldn’t find me, I think they gave up so they would make it to where they were going in time. It took me this long to make it back,” he said in a desperate tone.
“So they have Stephan. Did they try to hurt either of you in anyway? Did they say where they were taking you?”
“No, they didn’t hurt us, and they didn’t say where we were going.”
“Who is he,” Bayek asked as he looked at Bishop suspiciously.
“He is a friend who escaped from the same people who took Stephan,” Sasha said.
Bishop knew that was not the unadulterated truth, but he left it go. Bayek continued to stare at him with concern until his attention was diverted by the others who were leading him away while still posing questions.
“We should get back. I need to talk to Weston,” Bishop said to Sasha.
“It will only take us a few hours if we move quickly,” Sasha replied.
Bishop followed as Sasha led the way.
As soon as they reached Gateway, they informed Weston about what had taken place. “What will they do with him,” Weston asked Bishop.
“Study him, run tests on him, learn everything they can about him.”
“Will they hurt him? Is there a chance we could get him?”
“They will not release him, and they won’t let him into their society. Only those who found him and a few others will even know he exists. There is nothing we can do,” Bishop said in brutal honesty. “You need to start making preparations. They know people are out here now. They also know what direction to go to find them, and that it can’t be too far from where they were since they were on foot.”
“It’s something isn’t it,” Weston said in reply, “We try to find our way home, together with former enemies, and people from a foreign soil, only to find we are now the enemy of our own country.”
“That’s the reality you need to deal with. Nothing is the same, nor will it ever be again. It’s taken me a while to realize that, but it impresses itself upon me more each day.”
Weston nodded in understanding. “Why don’t you guys get some rest? I’ll have to talk to some of the men here and put together a plan. If you don’t mind, I’d like to solicit your input when we are finished.”
“Be glad to help,” Bishop said.
When he reached his temporary quarters, he saw the Smithy waiting for him?metal staff in hand. “It’s finished,” he said proudly as he held it out to Bishop. Instead of being polished steel, it was black. The surface was rough, and there were the telltale signs of points on each end just as Bishop had requested. The Smithy explained as Bishop was making his examination, “I thought it would only be a matter of time before it rusted on you so I coated it with a black epoxy resin I had. I also added some grit to it, so it will be a little rough on the hands until you get used to it. But I think you can manage.”
Bishop was surprised. It was a simple instrument but the damage it could do would be impressive, especially in his hands. He looked at it carefully, and then at the Smith, “I don’t know how to repay you for this,” Bishop said.
“No need. You brought in dinner the other day. We all do for each other what we can. If I need something, I’ll ask. The same goes for you. That is how we do things here.”
“Thank you.”
The two men shook hands as the Smith once again came up on the short end of their test of strength, before he went on his way. When Bishop went inside the house provided for him, he remembered he had not looked at the scratch marks on his leg since the day he received them. He pulled up his trousers to examine the cuts and noticed there was nothing to see other than some dried blood. He washed it away and saw there was no evidence of any wounds. He had not thought of it before, as he had experienced no pain from the time he was attacked. He knew he healed in ways that were not natural, but he did not think it was wise to push the envelope. He would help these people hold on to what they had. They were terribly outnumbered and outclassed when it came to the type of war that could be waged by his former men. He could only hope that they underestimated them enough to give him the advantage he would need.
TEN
The outpost at Bardin consisted of a small wood-framed building not far from the base of the trail. It served two purposes. One, was to draw uninvited visitors to it, the other was to cause those same visitors to circle away from it. It was not used, as most would assume; that is, as a place to house people. The warriors who guarded this limited access point into the valley were the most skilled. They rotated their duties on a regular basis. Many of them were those of giant stature. They were well armed and well prepared to handle whatever came their way. They were miles from Mezzo and thus had to be self-reliant. They worked in groups of eight men. They were armed with
