Chapter 23
The Great Sand Sea... the next night
William Sloan slogged his way up the steep dune. The waning moon was still
full and high enough to allow him to see the trail of deep footprints. He paused to catch
his breath. The day had again been long and hard... too long and hard to be tracking
a wayward precept across the Sahara.
He turned back to gaze across the moonlit desert. Below, in the darkness, were
the twin pinpricks of their campfires, perhaps the only signs of human life for hundreds
of miles. The thought made him feel very small and lonely. Then he heard the low hum
of a jet's engine. He looked up... and there, thirty thousand feet up was the light of an
airliner bound for Cairo, or perhaps Athens. With the sliver of a smile, he shook his
head... even here.
Looking back down along the curving base of the dune, he could make out the
trail they would take south in the morning. More frequently traveled than the caravan
route they had been following, it was a track that ran from Egypt's Siwa Oasis south
along the Libyan border. It passed through the sand seas, across the rugged Giff Kebir
Plateau to Jebel Al-Awenat and its namesake, the tiny village that served as Libya's
port-of-entry at its juncture with Egypt and Sudan.
By tomorrow's midday stop, they should be at the rendezvous point, which
would serve as their base camp. With luck, they would make it in time to greet the
helicopter, scheduled to arrive tomorrow afternoon.
Turning, he could see a glimmer of light from beyond the sandy crest... Derek's
flashlight. Sloan shook his head... still studying the files. As he resumed his climb, his
thoughts turned toward last night's battle and the day's silence. He was certain that his
friend had not spoken to anyone, including his wife, all day... nor had he eaten, a
dangerous oversight in this climate. Whatever had triggered the outburst went far beyond
any melancholy thoughts of Alicia Summers or a temper tantrum about not getting his
own way regarding the mission. The elder precept knew this in the pit of his stomach.
Derek's behavior, his emotions, were too well controlled to allow such confessions in
the midst of a mere argument... too often he had seen the younger man zing others with
amazing precision, without revealing one iota of his own self. It was an amazing, and
often disturbing, quality.
When he topped the dune, he looked down to see Derek nestled in the sand
with his papers and flashlight. He could hear him murmuring to himself. Time to make
peace.
"You need more light than that," William said quietly, so as not to startle his friend.
Without surprise, Derek glanced over his shoulder. "I'm fine... just trying to let
it sink in.... Will you quiz me tomorrow night?"
"Of course," replied Sloan, knowing his extended olive branch had been
accepted. "I'd planned on it."
Derek chuckled, "It'll be like old times."
The elder precept sank down into the sand. "Just like Oxford," he said. Last night
he had been furious with this man... furious at the calmness with which he had spoken
of his Fate, perhaps, of his own death... angry at the way he was shutting his friends
out... driving them away.
"Hmmm... hmmm," Derek murmured absently. "You know... despite what I said
the other night... I was happy there... so much to learn, to do... so much promise."
Sloan snatched a look from the corner of his eye. "I guess I was happy too," he
said.
The silence stretched. Finally, Derek said, "Maybe we should have stayed.
Sometimes... William... do you ever wonder what might have been?"
"Occasionally... I suppose," he admitted. "But, everything's worked itself out."
"I suppose so," his friend confessed. "...or soon will."
Sloan regretted the feud of the past few days. He shouldn't have begun it... it had distracted him. He had
failed to pick up on the young precept's melancholy. Usually, he was the first out of
the chute, as he had been when ibn Aziz had originally contacted him. Now, however,
the older man sensed a nervous ambivalence that he had never before known in Derek.
He had always seemed so sure of himself... so goddamned positive. But, at this moment,
Sloan could swear that Derek Rayne was scared.
"You sound like you're giving up," William said in amazement.
Derek chuckled again, mirthlessly. "Never," he stated. "You know me better
than that... I'll fight to the bitter end.... It's just this place... out here... the desert." He
hesitated, then continued in a soft, pensive tone. "It's like I can hear the angels sing...
or... God's whisper."
The elder precept laughed and hoped that it cloaked his growing anxiety. "Just
so long as you hear them from this place, and not up close."
Derek laughed as well. "I certainly intend to for as long as I can, but," he added
moodily, "you never know, do you?... What the plan is... I get glimpses, but I can
never really be sure what they mean."
"What would you like the plan to be, if you were to decide your own fate?"
asked Sloan, trying to educe Derek from his mood... to patiently suck the dark humors
from his friend's soul.
Again Derek paused. "I don't know," he said. "I've never allowed myself that
luxury.... It would be too dangerous to start now," he added sadly. "You'd better let
me get back to these files... or I will be hearing those angels up close."
"Of course," William said. He used Derek's shoulder to push himself up. "Come
down soon... and for God's sake eat something."
< < + > >
Tanit
"Reach out, my child... concentrate," commanded her mentor, and her lover.
Tanit searched the desert sands in an ever widening circle. All she could sense were
the man-creatures, those who were her own... and those of no consequence, with their
small minds that contained small spirits. Suddenly, it was there... a flicker of...
something, far and faint... and alive.
"You feel it... don't you? Prepare yourself... this will be a conquest worthy of
your power... with it you will truly become."
< < + > >
Legacy Camp
Fidgeting with worry, Kym circled the fire. She glanced at her wristwatch. Her
husband had taken himself off into the dunes to study... now nearly two hours ago.
Everyone had promised her there was nothing to be concerned about, but to humor her
Major Boyle had gone out one way and Sloan had wandered out in the other direction.
They hadn't done it very kindly either. Kym had never more desperately wished for
one of her brothers... with their stupid jokes. What she'd give to see Quentin right
now!
"Kym, I found him," said William, interrupting her thoughts from beyond the
rim of blackness. "Why don't you go talk to him? Take the flashlight and follow along
the trail til you see the footprints leading up... they're mine and his."
"Did you get things settled?"she asked.
Sloan chuckled. "For the moment."
As soon as Kym had taken the flashlight he had offered and had set off to find
her husband, Johnny stepped into the campfire's halo. Sloan glanced at him with
suspicion. He knew that the former soldier had purposely stayed away. He had
probably been watching from the darkness.
"So you found him?"
William nodded. "All patched up," he said as he pulled a camp stool closer to
the tiny fire. "I hate it when Derek goes mystical on me," he added after a moment.
"It's almost as bad as when he raises that damned drawbridge and shuts everyone out,
but he's doing that too."
"Mystical? Derek? No... surely you jest," the major said in feigned disbelief.
Then, in all seriousness, he asked, "What did he say this time?"
Looking up at Boyle, the precept said, "Just that out here, in the desert, he can
hear the angels sing... and God whisper." He gazed into the fire. "You know... I can
anticipate him seventy-five percent of the time, but that other twenty-five... especially
when he's in this kind of mood... I have absolutely no idea what's next. His mother
calls it his 'fey' mood." He smiled as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "She always
thought it was odd that of her two 'gifted' children... the one who chose to devote
herself to God... prays to Him... while it's the other one, who would face off against
Lucifer himself, that hears Him." Sloan blew on his coffee, then took a slow,
contemplative sip. "But... I've never known him to sound so fatalistic. It's like he's
giving up, but he says, 'Never.'"
The major casually squatted to see Sloan's face. "Derek wouldn't give up. Not
now."
William shook his head. "I don't know what's going on," he mused. "He never
quits. More often than not, I could kill him for that damned obstinance... the way he
always charges into things... almost like a warhorse galloping to the sound of the
trumpet. But, now... he's not just introspective... he's withdrawn. It's like he's not
looking beyond the next few days." He gazed across the fire into the soldier's face. "I
don't have a psychic bone in my body, but I can read Derek Rayne... it's like he's
shutting down."
"Then he has had a vision?"
"I'm certain of it... and he's shutting us all out," said Sloan. "Sometimes I wish
that damned 'Sight' of his would just go away."
| CHAPTER 24 |
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