Deep Crossing

  The Salara flatlands and surrounding plateaus were beautiful, even from orbit. Jungle canopies bristled with life. The Euros River was wide, snake-like, and deep blue. Canals branched off from it, some appearing manmade and ancient. Northwest of the pyramid complex there was a gigantic, deep hole in the ground; so deep it descended into darkness. The place was remote and wild. It was as though a section of South America had been transported and placed here.

  The sprawling pyramid complex seemed odd. The area all around was cleared, leaving a brown carpet with cultivated areas of grass. Crops were being grown on the outskirts. There seemed to be service type buildings located at various points around the complex. Numerous trails led through the woods to nearby settlements populated by single story mud-brick dwellings and other odd structures. There was a lot of activity going on, but none of it appeared to be tourism or commerce. Now that we were overhead our scans could be more detailed. RJ took a seat at an engineering station and began the high-res scanning. For the first time I felt a slight bit of guilt at the intrusiveness of it. He glanced at me as though he agreed.

  The rest of us met at the table, waiting for the scan data. As Erin and Paris took their places, I opened the dialogue. “So what do we know about these people? For some reason, I have a bad feeling about secretly dropping in on them.”

  Erin answered, “That was my end of it, Adrian. Your instincts are right on. I do not know how we will visit their complex. These people are isolationists to a degree; friendly, but not open to outsiders.”

  “There does not seem to be much technology down there. They are fundamentalists?”

  “It’s hard to say, actually. They have been described as tribal, cultural, an isolated society, and sometimes religious eccentrics. University groups have requested admittance to learn about them and been summarily turned away. Commerce and trade are erratic. They allow it only when there is something they specifically need, and they seem to require little from the outside world. It is not clear how much technology they actually have or use.”

  “Aren't there any records of anyone getting in at all?”

  “There are. Two or three explorers have gone there over the years and never returned. It is said the cost of admittance is agreeing to never leave.”

  “Oh brother.”

  “They have been photographed with only spears, bows, and knives, no weapons more powerful than that but strangely, even through the years of wars, no other society has ever intruded upon them. They have always been left alone.”

  “How many?”

  “Estimates only. Thousands.”

  “But this is supposedly the birthplace of this planet’s population?”

  “These people are the descendants of those who built the pyramids. They claim to serve Capal and his teachings to this day.”

  We sat in silent wonder. I hoped someone else would come up with a good idea, or at least a better question. RJ called out from his engineering station. “Adrian, I’m noticing something peculiar here.”

  “You? Really?”

  “No; seriously. You should come up here and take a look at this.”

  We all pushed up and pulled through the forward airlock. RJ was turned to face us. He pointed at an overhead monitor. It was a magnified view of the pyramid complex. People were everywhere, working the crops, transporting goods, all the things normally seen in a primitive society’s workday.

  “Your kind of town,” I said.

  “That’s a photo from the down-facing cameras, taken when we first got here.” He paused and then pointed to a second monitor nearby. It was the same shot, but no one was present, no gardeners, no workers, and no commuters. The place was deserted except for several lines of people at various points around the complex. It looked like they were waiting for something, or guarding something.

  “That’s one I took a few minutes ago,” said RJ. “You get it?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Our scans. Either by sheer coincidence the whole place shut down when we started hi-res scanning, or somehow they detected our scans.”

  I held to the ceiling and in exasperation wiped my face with my free hand. “It has to be a coincidence, RJ.”

  “Who was it that said he didn’t believe in coincidences?” he replied.

  “But…”

  Before I could finish my sentence, Danica called out from the pilot seat. “Oh, if you think that’s weird, you’re really not going to believe this, Adrian.”

  RJ added, “I see it too.” He pointed down at the main screen on his console. There were coordinates printing out there. He looked at me and shook his head in disbelief. “Those have got to be landing coordinates.”

  “Right in the center of the complex,” confirmed Danica.

  “Oh come on, you guys. RJ, trace the source.”

  RJ hammered a few keys and looked up at me with a wrinkled brow. “The apex of the smaller pyramid. The transmission came straight up from that pyramid.”

  “Oh, this is just too much.”

  “It’s an invitation, Adrian. What are you going to do?” asked RJ.

  “Just hold on one damn minute. Risking a couple lives is bad enough; taking this ship down there is a whole other level.” I looked at the rest of them. “Do you guys think we should land there?”

  They all started talking at once. I couldn’t make out a word of it. They would continuously argue with each other, while the rest were voicing opinions at me. Then they would switch off. Just as suddenly as it had begun, they stopped and stared as though I was now fully informed.

  Wilson sounded half-comical. “We have weapons and shields.”

  “Yeah, Wilson, but what do they have?” I said.

  We all stared at Wilson.

  “Have there been any other transmissions, RJ?”

  “Nope. That was it.”

  “Paris, you’re the expert. Should we leave and drop everyone else off somewhere safe, then return and just you and I make the landing?”

  They all began talking at once again. This time I understood. It was not a popular idea. The outburst did not last as long. They all stopped in unison again except this time two words, source unidentifiable, capped it off, “…is bullshit.”

  “If they have the technology to detect scans, we’d never have a chance at getting in covertly,” said Wilson.

  “Does anyone have a better idea?” I asked.

  In the silence that followed, I felt a tingling sensation against my chest. Putting my hand to it, I felt the bulge of my Nasebian crystal. I drew it out to find it flowing cherry red with spirals of bright white mixed in. It was the first time the crystal had reacted since emerging from the void.

  “Ladies and Gentleman, strap in.”

  I coasted up front and took the copilot seat. “Danica, we’ll deploy the landing gear and settle onto it, but keep all systems at idle. At the first sign of trouble, initiate an emergency ascent to orbit whether or not all of us are onboard. Can you make yourself do that?”

  She gave me a solemn stare. “Yes.”

  The ride down became smooth apprehension. It was the kind of gamble wily old Adrian Tarn never takes. No ace in the hole. No plan B. No emergency escape route. You take those kinds of chances; you don’t live too long. I had no choice, four words that have been used to explain big mistakes since the spoken word first existed. But down we went, just the same.

  The tops of the pyramids came into view in our side windows and rose far above us as we slowed. The ship rocked from contact with the ground as it settled onto its struts. The hum wound down to an idle and remained there. We decided to use the aft airlock door facing the pyramids so the loading ramp could be deployed, a much faster access to the ship if a panicked extraction became necessary. We could eject the ramp and depart said premises with hostility, if so desired.

  In the armory closet I pulled out the drawer for hand weapons, intending to take along a small plasma pistol. I was shocked and alarmed when I found not a single weapon with a charg
e light illuminated. I examined one closely. It was dead; so were all the others. The larger rifles were deactivated as well. There was not a charged weapon in the closet. All had been drained. There would be no armaments coming along on this visit.

  RJ came up alongside, looked down and quickly realized what was going on. “Well, it would have been in bad taste anyway.”

  “So is dying. Plus embarrassment for a moment or two.”

  “I get the feeling they could have effected our demise already if they really wanted to.”

  “Well now we know why these people have never been bothered by outside invaders. You don’t dare attack them. Your weapons don’t work here.”

  The guinea pigs were to be Paris and me. Erin objected profusely. She had studied some of their customs. She might prevent us from doing something offensive. God knows, I was always capable of that. I said I just didn’t think it was a good idea. She insisted it was. I said I was sure it wasn’t. She said leaving her behind was not an option and she gave me a narrow-eyed stare that went through me like a plasma beam. I blinked and replied, “Perhaps you’re right.” She stomped off to get her things.

  The guinea pigs were now to be Erin, Paris, and me. I thought about Wilson, but decided we would be too outnumbered for combat. No reason to put him in more risk than he was already in. As the hatch hissed open, a glaring golden portion of the larger pyramid came into view. It was so bright in the afternoon sun I couldn’t tell if the structure was encased in gold or the angle of light was just making it seem that way. A marbled pathway led to it. As we bent over to pass out the hatch, two male figures standing twenty or thirty feet away appeared, waiting to greet us. They seemed completely unimpressed that a spacecraft had just landed in the center of their square. They wore gold and white wraps around the waist that came down to the knee, with blue and gold pleated aprons in the front. A pleated white wrap was draped over the right shoulder and fastened at the waist. Their legs and arms were covered with colorful tattoos. They both wore elaborate, jeweled headdresses with a large precious stone centered just above the forehead. Each held a heavily engraved golden staff, curved at the top, reaching from shoulder to ground.

  Though usually not one to consider fashion, I suddenly became self-conscious about the garishness of our plain gray flight suits. In one of those idiotic moments of hindsight, I wondered if the blue would have been a better choice. Adrian Tarn, style-advisor for Egyptian dress wear. I had to fight off a sheepish expression as we considered the two greeters staring at us. The world around was so garnished with gold and silver it was breathtaking. There were pathways of colored stone that led to other buildings and the surrounding forest. Some pathways expanded into huge symbols and pictures, then narrowed again. There was no breeze at all, but the air smelled like jasmine. We paused at the bottom of the ship’s ramp and tried to absorb it all. There was too much. It was too overpowering.

  My best guess was that these two were priests. They waited patiently without a word. I willed myself forward and led the team. We could hear and feel the Griffin humming at idle behind us. As we approached the greeters bowed slightly, turned and took a path that led toward the smaller of the two pyramids. The larger one glistened in its gold but no entrance was visible. At its peak the apex stone was missing, as though someone had taken the key.

  At the base of the smaller pyramid a long, shallow ramp trimmed in silver and bronze led up to giant double doors, opened wide. Erin started getting ahead of me, but the slow precession of the two priests kept her at bay. At the top of the ramp, I wanted badly to glance back, but dared only a quick glimpse. There was not a soul in sight, but it felt like thousands were watching.

  We passed into the pyramid and a cool, shadowy antechamber lit by torches along the walls. We stared in wonderment. A people who had detected our scans from space, using torches to light their temple. RJ would have been beside himself. The antechamber was a vault filled with art and treasure. White polished stone floors, high, flat, intricately painted ceiling. Statues and headdresses everywhere. Gold, silver, bronze. Brightly painted images adorned the walls. This was an ancient structure kept new. The place was pristine.

  Our two priest guides led us across the chamber to the far wall, a massive chunk of polished granite covered with hieroglyphs. In the very center a larger cartouche bore animal symbols, deeply engraved. To my surprise, the priests parted and stood on either side. I wondered if we were expected to kneel and pay worship. I looked at Erin. She had no answers. The awkward moment was broken by a loud, echoing boom. To our astonishment, the huge slab began to slide open to the right, the chamber beyond a stadium-sized cathedral heavily decorated with art and light. Intricate, colorful paintings and symbols covered the walls. Three story high statutes were lined against them. Beams of colored sunlight crisscrossed the room. Far in the distance a single figure sat on a throne of white marble, a shaft of light from above spotlighting her.

  The priests did not follow. We looked at each other in awe and began the long walk toward the throne. The polished floor was almost slippery. The air smelled like a flower garden.

  She was dressed in a sparkling silver robe that ran from neck to floor. It was similar to one I had once seen on the reclusive Nasebian emissary aboard my last ship, the Electra. As we approached, she rose and came down from her pedestal to meet us. Her hair was golden, so golden that the sunlight beaming down from above glistened on it. She was human but had the Nasebian aura; a glow about her that I had only seen once in my life. It formed an egg-shaped illumination, the same one that had surrounded the Nasebian emissary. It was overwhelming. It made you want to get as close as you could. You wanted to immerse yourself in it. It was like meeting someone who was perfectly sin-free, the pure definition of good. Her eyes were deep and blazingly blue, and also like the Nasebian emissary it was difficult to look into them for more than a moment at a time. She had a tiny nose and child-like skin-tone, ears hidden beneath the shimmering fall of long hair.

  “Thank you for coming. I foresaw your arrival,” she said, but her mouth never opened, her lips never moved. We all heard her.

  I wanted to ask how she should be addressed, but before I could speak, there was an answer.

  “Amoura.”

  Paris and Erin stood dumbfounded, a flood of astonishment filling their minds.

  Amoura thought to us, “You have many questions but require few answers. Let me offer them.” She clasped her delicate hands within her sleeves and continued. “My father was Capal. He descended to Earth long ago. He was not well. He organized those living here and eventually one of my ancestors became his protégé and helped him recover. Nasebians proliferate differently than your species. Although there was absence of physical contact, my ancestor eventually found she was with child, a conception caused by prolonged close contact with a Nasebian host. She gave birth to a daughter and a new life cycle began. When he was able and had those resources necessary, Capal returned to the heavens. I am a continuation of the hereditary line graced to this world by Capal. Someday I will give birth to a daughter and I will begin the euphorisis. Evolution to higher dimensions is a gradual one. My daughter will remain and continue the line, as I have.”

  “I am the Udjat you seek. All that the Udjat is, am I. In recent times a distant species has begun visiting this Earth. They have become aware of my presence. When I leave, there will be nothing of interest for them here. My people, the others of this world, and the visitors, will again be safe. My people have been preparing for this coming for many years. Nothing you see around you will change. They will make provisions for me to travel with you. I will remain in stasis for the duration of the journey. Arrangements will be made to receive me when we arrive. Have I answered your many questions?”

  Apparently she had, because we all stood there with blank stares on our faces.

  She began again, “If you will go now and prepare your craft and people, I will be brought to you.”

  I bowed. I do not know exactly why.
All vanity had escaped me, no small accomplishment for Adrian Tarn. I did not see how the other two reacted, but there was no doubt we all sufficiently expressed our awe before turning and silently walking back to the ship. It occurred to me I had not said a word, and had barely even managed a single question. Nor had the others. I had the feeling we were all wondering what had just happened. We were now heading back to the ship to await the arrival of a hybrid Human-Nasebian, a prospect that left me feeling inadequate and exhilarated.

  Chapter 41