Dyna-Mike

10

May 2009

            It was almost 90º in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia on an early May afternoon. I was feeling my age. I was nearly 53 now, and Kareem was approaching 33 years old. The Middle-Eastern sky was clear, and I was sitting at a sidewalk café downtown with Kareem. We were sipping bottled water, wearing large-brimmed hats and dark sunglasses, which concealed our features from the passers-by. Across the table from us sat a small, dark man with large, round eyes, always looking this way and that.

Majid was a nervous fellow, but extremely aware of his surroundings. He had good reason to be wary. For the past several years he had been our primary contact with a large group of detectives, informants, scientists and researchers in several countries, all working for us in our efforts to obtain the materials, research and safe passage towards our goal of lost Eden. None of them knew exactly why we were doing all the meticulous planning, but their curiosity was easily squelched by large sums of money, paid in regular installments. Kareem kept the details from me, for my own protection he assured me, and managed everything according to my requests. So far we had spent nearly four years and over one hundred fourteen million dollars in our efforts, and we were now just getting ready to start out across the desert for the Persian Gulf. All the necessary advance bribes had been paid to both government and military officials in Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Iraq and Iran with instructions to look the other way while we went about our work, securely reinforced by the promise of double the amount of money upon our return.

Our custom built submarine was ready and waiting, hidden in an undocumented location not far from the water’s edge in neighboring Kuwait. It had been built to my exact specifications to include a galley, sleeping quarters, “silent” electric engines with a small internal combustion generator to recharge the batteries when necessary, and plenty of storage room for our equipment. It had a fifteen-foot mechanical claw protruding from the front, which was remotely operated from inside the vessel. Bright lights had been installed around the perimeter, each one individually controlled by the two-man crew. This would make it possible to see ahead, behind, above and below the craft while submerged. The highest quality underwater video camera apparatus complete with recording equipment was installed to document underwater excavations. The top of the vehicle was painted dark forest green, and the bottom a lighter green to camouflage its presence from both above and below. A rack of military frequency radios had been included to monitor the activities of the armies above in the warring countries. I had spent over eighty million dollars having the submersible manufactured, and to date I had never even seen it. Kareem and I had decided long ago not to keep any pictures or drawings nearby to avoid detection of the project before completion.

Majid had come to inform us the construction was finally completed. We were working out the details of our eminent cross-desert expedition, which would bring us to the Saudi-Kuwaiti border, where we would then abandon the land portion of our adventure and travel the remainder of the way under the waters of the Persian Gulf. Since Saudi Arabia and Kuwait were both allies of the United States, this plan minimized the amount of time we would have to spend in enemy countries, specifically Iraq and Iran.

“I have hired twenty well-paid mercenaries who will guide you through the desert to the Kuwaiti border. Our people on the other side will meet you there, and take you to our secret base of operations on the shores of the Gulf,” Majid whispered, his eyes always surveying the area nearby. “With the soldiers will be fifteen laborers who will carry the supplies and materials for your journey. I will travel with you, since our Kuwaiti contact will do business only with me. We have purchased several HumVee all-terrain vehicles in your name, and are posing as researchers employed by you, Dr. Witherspoon. We are posing as employees of yours engaged in a search for undiscovered Ubarite routes through the desert. Since you gained worldwide notoriety for your Ubarite research here years ago, this explanation will seem reasonable. It is a good cover for our operations.” He suddenly smiled and laughed loudly as a man in flowing robes walked by peering at us intently over his sunglasses.

“That’s hilarious! You sure can tell a joke,” Majid chuckled as he slapped his hand on the table in merriment. The pedestrian snorted and continued to walk, now seemingly disinterested in our innocent conversation.

“We must not talk here any longer. I must go. I’ll be in touch with more arrangements in a few weeks. If all goes according to schedule, we’ll set out early next year, perhaps March or so. Be well my friends, and be careful.” Majid rose quietly, shook our hands, and disappeared around the street corner.

“Well, Dr. Witherspoon, it appears you’re finally going to be off on your quest at long last,” Kareem said.

“I can hardly believe it myself, my young friend,” I replied cautiously. “It seems something always happens to delay me, no matter how hard I try or how long I plan.”

“I know what you mean, Sir,” Kareem said. “Life can be like that sometimes.”

“Indeed,” I responded.

I reached into my pocket and laid some money on the café table for our drinks. We rose together, and started walking down the street. The air was dry and clean. It was a good day.

*   *   *

We entered the hotel room some time later. Kareem and I went into our respective rooms for an afternoon nap. I heard his door close as I shut my door on the opposite end of the suite. I walked over to the plush bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. As I leaned over to untie my shoes, I lost my balance and fell towards the floor.

“Humannn……” I heard the old familiar voice, and it sent chills down my spine. “What folly is this? Have you not been warned?”

I was in the dark, and I struggled to gain my balance. A steamy fog swirled in random patterns all around, and the humidity was stifling. I began to perspire, partly due to the warm mists, and partly due to my terror. I turned my head, and there, behind me, towering in terrible magnificence, was Mortach, Keeper of the Dark.

“Why have you come back?” I asked feebly.

“FOOL!” He barked loudly. “Did I not tell you to abandon this foolish cause? Did I not swear I would oppose you if you defied me? And now, you think in your puny insolence, your so-called wisdom, that you can dare into realms you cannot imagine?

The massive demon floated closer, until I could smell his foul breath merely inched in front of my face. I flinched, and blinked rapidly. I was sweating profusely now.

“You shall not do this thing, Wiiitherspooon,” he proclaimed in a growl. “Your world is decaying underneath you. Your civilization is corroding into chaos as I speak. Your world as you know it is coming to an end. And you persist in foolish games you cannot possibly understand, foolishly sticking your nose into things you cannot possibly comprehend.”

His great staff inched forward and touched my forehead. I went instantly numb, paralyzed from head to toe. My brain began to glow. My air stood on end, and I began to see vague images forming before me. There were forms of people on both sides, and a great expanse in between.

“Witness your future, pathetic ‘Chosen One’,” Mortach laughed cruelly. I give you now a glimpse of your own destruction…”

The images began to clear, as though a fresh wind had blown away the old rancid smoke of a fire long since gone out. I peered into the vision, and made out a barren landscape. There was sand everywhere, and in the distance the shore of some large body of water lay still. As I tried to focus , the ground began to tremble, and then to rock violently. I fell to my knees as the earthquake intensified. I heard many voices cry in dismay. I looked to my left, and an army of Middle-Eastern soldiers, torn and bedraggled from long battle threw up their hands and wailed. I looked to my right, and saw an opposing force of American and European forces do the same. I turned and looked behind me and saw a massive, red mushroom cloud climbing rapidly toward the sky. The larger it grew, the more the ground shook. In the distance I could see a gargantuan dust cloud Several hundred feet high approaching faster than the speed of sound. Within moments it was upon us. Suddenly we were violently struck by a gale force blast of wind, which knocked everyone to the ground, blowing us all this way and that. Dust was everywhere, stinging with such ferocity that small red punctures appeared in my skin as the miniscule particles pierced my flesh. I held my breath, and curled up into a ball, wrapping my arms around my knees and praying it would all stop. Suddenly it all vanished. I was in a warm fog again, and I could see my hotel room breaking through the darkness.

“Be warned, Wiiitherspooon,” Mortach’s menacing voice boomed as it faded into the ethereal distance, “Leave the supernatural to the Immortals. Pursue the quest and it will be your doom….”

Silence enveloped everything. I was lying on the floor of my hotel room. My glasses were covered with dust and debris. I looked at my arms, but the scores of red puncture spots were gone. I stood up, then laid down on the bed with my hand covering my eyes and forehead. I stared at the ceiling for what seemed like a long time. Eventually, I fell asleep.

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