The Traveler fr-1 Page 31

  “This might be a waste of time. I might not be a Traveler.”

  “I’ve accepted that possibility.”

  “So don’t risk your life and do something crazy.”

  Maya looked at him and smiled. Gabriel felt like they were connected to each other at that moment. Not friends, exactly, but soldiers in the same army. And then, for the first time in their relationship, he heard the Harlequin laugh.

  “It’s all crazy, Gabriel. But you find your own sanity.”

  ***

  ANTONIO CARDENAS SHOWED up ten minutes later and said he would drive them to where the Pathfinder was living. Gabriel took along the jade sword and the knapsack filled with his extra clothes. In the back of Antonio’s pickup truck were three canvas bags of canned food, bread, and fresh vegetables from the greenhouses.

  “When the Pathfinder first arrived, I spent a month at the site setting up a windmill to power a water pump and electric lights,” Antonio said. “Now I just show up every two weeks with food supplies.”

  “So what’s he like?” Gabriel asked. “You haven’t really told us.”

  Antonio waved at some children as the truck moved slowly down the road. “The Pathfinder is a very strong person. Tell the truth and you’ll be all right.”

  They reached the two-lane highway that led back to San Lucas, but turned off a few miles later onto an abandoned asphalt road that cut a straight line through the desert. NO TRESPASSING signs were everywhere, some hanging from steel posts, others left faceup on the cracked ground.

  “This used to be a missile base,” Antonio explained. “It was active for about thirty years. Fenced off. Top secret. Then the Defense Department took out the missiles and sold the land to the county sanitation district. When the county didn’t want it anymore, our group bought all four hundred acres.”

  “This looks like a wasteland,” Maya said.

  “As you’ll see, it has certain advantages for the Pathfinder.”

  Bear grass and cactus reached out and scratched the sides of the truck. The road was covered with sand for a hundred yards or so, then it reappeared. As the road slowly gained elevation they began passing piles of red rocks and groves of Joshua trees. Each stubby desert tree raised its spike-leafed branches upward like the arms of a prophet praying to heaven. It was very hot and the sun appeared to grow larger in the sky.

  After twenty minutes of cautious driving, they reached a barbed-wire fence and a shattered gate. “We have to walk from here,” Antonio said, and everyone got out of the truck. Carrying the food bags, they slipped through a hole in the gate and headed down the road.

  Gabriel could see one of Antonio’s windmills in the distance. The heat rising from the dirt made the tower waver and bend. Before he could react, a snake slithered across the road. It was about three feet long with a rounded head, a black body with cream-colored bands. Maya stopped and touched her sword case.

  “It’s not poisonous,” Gabriel said. “I think it’s a garter snake or gopher snake. They’re usually pretty shy.”

  “It’s a king snake,” Antonio told them. “And they’re not shy around here.”

  They kept walking and saw another king snake moving through the dirt, then a third one sunning itself on the road. All the snakes had black bodies, but the pattern and color of their bands seemed to vary. White. Cream. Pale yellow.

  More snakes appeared on the road and Gabriel stopped counting. Dozens of reptiles coiled and slithered and looked around with their little black eyes. Maya appeared nervous-almost frightened.

  “You don’t like snakes?”

  She lowered her arms and tried to relax. “You don’t see many in England.”

  As they got closer to the windmill, Gabriel saw that it had been built next to a rectangular concrete area about the size of a football field. It looked like an enormous machine-gun bunker abandoned by the army. Directly south of the concrete area was a small aluminum trailer that reflected the desert light. A parachute had been set up as a sunscreen over a wooden picnic table and plastic boxes filled with tools and supplies.

  The Pathfinder was kneeling near the base of the windmill, welding a reinforcement strut. He wore blue jeans, a long-sleeved checkered shirt, and thick leather gloves. A welder’s helmet covered his face and he appeared to be concentrating on the flame as he fused two pieces of metal.

  A four-foot-long king snake slithered by, almost grazing the tip of Gabriel’s boots. He could see that the sand on both sides of the road was marked with thousands of faint S curves, a sign of reptile movements across the dry land.

  Thirty feet from the tower, Antonio shouted and waved his arms. The Pathfinder heard him, stood up, and raised the welder’s helmet. At first Gabriel assumed that the Pathfinder was an old man with white hair. As they got closer he realized that they were about to meet a woman who was more than seventy years old. She had a broad forehead and a straight nose. It was a face of great strength without an ounce of sentimentality.

  “Good morning, Antonio. You brought some friends this time.”

  “Dr. Briggs, this is Gabriel Corrigan. He’s the son of a Traveler and wants to know if-”

  “Yes. Of course. Welcome.” The doctor had a brisk New England accent. She pulled off one of the welder’s gloves and shook Gabriel’s hand. “I’m Sophia Briggs.” Her fingers were strong and her blue-green eyes were intense, critical. Gabriel felt like he was being evaluated and then she turned away from him. “And you are…”

  “Maya. Gabriel’s friend.”

  Dr. Briggs noticed the black metal case hanging from Maya’s shoulder and understood what it contained. “How interesting. I thought all you Harlequins were dead, slaughtered after various self-destructive gestures. Perhaps you’re too young for this business.”

  “And maybe you’re too old.”

  “There’s some spirit. A little resistance. I like that.” Sophia returned to her trailer and tossed the welder’s gear into a plastic milk crate lying on the ground. Startled by the noise, two large king snakes came out of the shadow beneath the trailer and slithered over to the windmill.

  “Welcome to the land of Lampropeltis getula, the common king snake. Of course, there’s nothing common about them. They’re brave, clever, perfectly lovely reptiles-another one of God’s gifts to a fallen world. What you’re seeing is subspecies splendida, the Arizona desert king snake. They eat copperheads and rattlesnakes as well as frogs, birds, and rats. They just love to kill rats. Especially large, nasty ones.”

  “Dr. Briggs studies snakes,” Antonio said.

  “I’m a biologist specializing in reptiles. I taught for twenty-eight years at the University of New Hampshire until they forced me out. You should have seen President Mitchell, a silly little man who can barely walk upstairs without huffing and puffing, telling me that I was too frail for the classroom. What nonsense. A few weeks after the retirement dinner, I started getting messages from my Internet friends that the Tabula had discovered I was a Pathfinder.”

  Antonio dropped his canvas food bag on the table. “But she wouldn’t leave.”

  “And why should I? I’m no coward. I own three firearms and know how to use them. Then Antonio and Martin found out about this site and lured me here. You two are clever schoolboys.”

  “We knew you couldn’t resist,” Antonio said.

  “You’re right about that. Fifty years ago the government wasted millions of dollars building this ridiculous missile site.” Sophia moved past the trailer and pointed at the site. Gabriel saw three enormous concrete disks set in rusty steel frames. “Right over there are the silo lids. They could be opened and shut from the inside. That was where they stored the missiles.”

  She turned on her heel and pointed to a mound of dirt about half a mile away. “After the missiles were pulled out, the county turned that area over there into a dump. Beneath nine inches of dirt and a plastic tarp is twenty years of rotting garbage that sustains an enormous population of rats. The rats eat the garbage and multiply. The king
snakes eat the rats, then live and breed in the silo. I study splendida and it’s been quite successful, so far.”

  “So what are we going to do?” Gabriel asked.

  “Have lunch, of course. Better eat this bread before it goes stale.”

  Sophia gave them all jobs and they prepared a meal with the perishable food. Maya was in charge of slicing a loaf of bread and she seemed annoyed with the dull knife. Lunch was simple, but delicious. Fresh tomatoes mixed with oil and vinegar. A very rich goat cheese cut into chunks. Rye bread. Strawberries. For dessert, Sophia took out a bar of Belgian chocolate and gave everyone exactly two squares.

  Snakes were everywhere. If they got in the way, Sophia picked them up firmly and carried them over to a moist patch of ground near the shed. Maya sat yoga style at the table as if one of the reptiles might slither up her leg. During the meal, Gabriel learned a few more facts about Sophia Briggs. No children. Never married. She had consented to hip surgery a few years ago but-other than that-she tried to stay away from doctors.

  In her forties, Sophia began to make annual trips up to the Narcisse Snake Dens in Manitoba to study the fifty thousand red-sided garter snakes that emerged from limestone caves during their annual breeding cycle. She became close friends with a Catholic priest living in the area and, after many years, he revealed that he was a Pathfinder.

  “Father Morrissey was an amazing man,” she said. “Like most priests, he presided over thousands of christenings, weddings, and funerals, but he had actually learned something from the experience. He was a perceptive person. Very wise. Sometimes I felt he could read my mind.”

  “So why did he pick you?” Gabriel asked.

  Sophia smeared the soft goat cheese on a piece of bread. “My people skills aren’t the best in the world. In fact, I don’t like people all that much. They’re vain and foolish. But I’ve trained myself to be observant. I can focus on one thing and get rid of the extraneous details. Maybe Father Morrissey could have found someone better, but he got lymphatic cancer and died seventeen weeks after the diagnosis. I took a semester off and sat by the hospital bed while he gave me his knowledge.”

  When everyone had finished eating, Sophia stood up and looked at Maya. “I think it’s time for you to go, young lady. I’ve got a sat phone in the trailer and it works most of the time. I’ll call Martin when we’re done.”

  Antonio picked up the empty canvas bags and headed back down the road. Maya and Gabriel stood close to each other, but neither one of them spoke. He wondered what he could say to her. Take care of yourself. Have a safe journey. See you soon. None of the commonplace farewells seemed to apply to a Harlequin.

  “Goodbye,” she said.

  “Goodbye.”

  Maya went a few feet, then stopped and looked back at him. “Keep the jade sword with you,” she said. “Don’t forget. It’s a talisman.”

  And then she was gone, her body becoming smaller and smaller as she disappeared down the road.

  “She likes you.”

  Gabriel turned around and realized that Sophia had been watching them. “We respect each other…”

  “If a woman told me that, I would consider her to be extraordinarily dim-witted, but you’re just a typical man.” Sophia returned to the table and began to pick up the dirty dishes. “Maya likes you, Gabriel. But that’s absolutely forbidden for a Harlequin. They have great power. In exchange for this gift they’re probably the loneliest people in the world. She can’t allow emotions of any sort to cloud her judgment.”

  As they stored the food and washed the dishes in a plastic tub, Sophia questioned Gabriel about his family. Her scientific training was evident in the systematic way she went about getting information. “How do you know that?” she kept asking. “What makes you think that’s true?”

  The sun drifted toward the western horizon. As the rocky ground began to cool, the wind grew stronger. It made the parachute above them snap and billow like a sail. Sophia looked amused when Gabriel described his failed attempts to become a Traveler. “Some Travelers can learn how to cross over on their own,” she said. “But not in our frantic world.”

  “Why not?”

  “Our senses are overwhelmed by all the noise and bright lights around us. In the past, a potential Traveler would crawl into a cave or find sanctuary in a church. You have to be in a quiet environment, like our missile silo.” Sophia finished covering the food boxes and faced him. “I want you to promise that you’ll remain in the silo for at least eight days.”

  “That seems like a long time,” Gabriel said. “I thought you’d know fairly soon if I had the power to cross over.”

  “This is your discovery, young man, not mine. Accept the rules or go back to Los Angeles.”

  “Okay. Eight days. No problem.” Gabriel walked over to the table to get his knapsack and the jade sword. “I want to do this, Dr. Briggs. It’s important to me. Maybe I can contact my father and my brother-”

  “I wouldn’t think about that. It’s not very helpful.” Sophia brushed a king snake away from a storage bin and picked up a propane lantern. “You know why I like snakes? God created them to be clean, beautiful-and unadorned. Studying snakes, I’ve been inspired to get rid of all the clutter and foolishness in my life.”

  Gabriel looked around him at the missile site and the desert landscape. He felt like he was about to leave everything and go on a long journey. “I’ll do whatever is necessary.”

  “Good. Let’s go underground.”

  41

  A thick black power cable ran from the windmill’s electric generator to the missile silo. Sophia Briggs followed the cable across the concrete pad to a ramp that led down to a sheltered area with a steel floor.

  “When they stored the missiles here, the main entrance was through a freight elevator. But the government took the elevator away when they sold the site to the county. The snakes get in a dozen different ways, but we have to use the emergency staircase.”

  Sophia set her propane lantern on the ground and lit the wick with a wooden match. When the lantern was burning with a white-hot flame, she pulled up a hatch cover with two hands, exposing a steel staircase that led into darkness. Gabriel knew that the king snakes weren’t dangerous to humans, but it made him uneasy to see a large specimen gliding down the steps.

  “Where’s he going?”

  “One of many places. There are between three and four thousand splendida in the silo. It’s their breeding area.” Sophia went down two steps and stopped. “Do the snakes bother you?”

  “No. But it does seem a little unusual.”

  “Every new experience is unusual. The rest of life is just sleep and committee meetings. Now come along and shut the door behind you.”

  Gabriel hesitated a few seconds, and then shut the hatch. He was standing on the first step of a metal staircase that spiraled around the outside of an elevator shaft protected by a chain-link cage. Two king snakes were on the stairs in front of him and several more were inside the cage, moving up and down the old conduit pipes as if they were branches of a snake highway. The reptiles slithered past each other as their little tongues darted in and out, tasting the air.

  He followed Sophia down the staircase. “Have you ever guided a person who thought he was a Traveler?”

  “I’ve had two students in the last thirty years: a young woman and an older man. Neither one of them could cross over, but maybe that was my fault.” Sophia glanced over her shoulder. “You can’t teach people to be Travelers. It’s more of an art than a science. All a Pathfinder can do is try to pick the right technique so that people can discover their own power.”

  “And how do you do that?”

  “Father Morrissey helped me memorize The 99 Paths. It’s a handwritten book of ninety-nine techniques and exercises developed over the years by visionaries from different religions. If you weren’t prepared for the book, you might think it was all magic and moonbeams-a lot of nonsense thought up by Christian saints, Jews who studied the Kabbalah, Buddhis
t monks, and so on. But The 99 Paths isn’t mystical at all. It’s a practical list of ideas with the same goal: to break the Light free of your body.”

  They reached the bottom of the elevator shaft and stopped in front of a massive safety door still hanging on one hinge. Sophia connected two parts of the electrical cable and a lightbulb went on near a discarded power generator. They pushed open the door, walked down a short corridor, and entered a tunnel that was wide enough for a pickup truck. Rusted girders lined the walls like the ribs of an enormous animal. The floor was constructed with flat steel plates. Ventilation ducts and water pipes hung above them. The old fluorescent fixtures had been disconnected, and the only light came from six ordinary bulbs attached to the power cable.

  “This is the main tunnel,” Sophia said. “From end to end, it’s about a mile long. The whole area is like a giant lizard buried underground. We’re standing in the middle of the lizard’s body. Walk north to the head and you’ll reach missile silo one. The lizard’s front legs lead to silos two and three, and the two rear legs lead to the control center and the living quarters. Walk south to the end of the tail and you’ll find the radio antenna that was stored underground.”

  “Where are all the snakes?”

  “Beneath the floor or in the crawl space above you.” Sophia guided him down the tunnel. “It’s very dangerous to explore this place if you don’t know where you’re going. All the floors are hollow, set on steel springs that could take the shock of an explosion. There are levels built on levels and, in some places, you can fall a long way.”

  They turned into a side corridor and entered a large round room. The outer walls were made of concrete blocks, painted white, and four half walls divided the room into sleeping areas. One of the areas had a folding cot with a sleeping bag, pillow, and foam-rubber mattress. A second propane lantern, a covered bucket, and three water bottles were placed a few feet from the cot.