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MITCH FOLLOWED PAM through the welcoming crowd and to the most highly decorated tent of the village. The patched leather hide was tanned to a chocolate brown and stitched with thick bindings of cream leather. It was long and rectangular, anchored to the ground by pegs driven deep into the soil. At the entrance, two warriors stood guard, faces painted with multiple eyes and images of lightning bolts. Mitch could not help staring at their fierce makeup. Pam paused at the door and bowed, then straightened. Mitch mimicked her posture.
“We seek the counsel of the Chief Elder. Could you request an audience for us?”
The warrior on the right nodded and ducked inside the tent. He returned a short time later, and held back the tent flap, gesturing to them to enter. They passed through into the interior. The longhouse was set with benches of carved wood, set in a semi-circle around a tall chair set on a small platform. The pale chair was carved from bleached wood, and glowed in the natural light that filtered through several openings in the roof. In the chair sat a man with long red hair, braided into two plaits that ran down the front of his chest. On his chest he wore a vest of hollow bird bones, interspersed with beads and shells. Leather leggings and boots clad the lower half of his body. In his right hand he held a long scepter crowned with a petrified egg. The shell was pale blue and luminescent. Pam crossed over in front of the chief and bowed low once again.
“Elder, I would like you to meet my brother, Mitch. He is an officer in the Melina police department.”
Mitch elbowed her.
“Excuse me,” she amended, “he is currently on leave from the Melina police department.”
Mitch grinned at the description, and Pam scowled at him.
“He carries an object of utter secrecy,” she continued, “one that has now made him into a fugitive from his own co-workers, and from the government itself.”
Pam reached out to take the backpack from Mitch. He slid it off his shoulders and placed it gently at her feet. Pam unzipped the pack and withdrew the blinking cylinder full of the hive colony. As soon as it was brought out of the back pack and into the light, the chamber began an angry buzzing.
“What is this thing?” the chief asked, his eyes on the container.
“Possibly the answer to the plague that is causing the land to die. It was stolen from the government research facility.”
The chief sat straighter. Stark realization flickered in his unusual, green-eyed gaze. “You have bees.”
“Yes,” said Mitch. “Genetically altered bees, we believe.”
The chief stared at the container. “We do not know what was done to them, do we?”
Mitch shook his head. “No, we do not. We need to study them. By ‘we’, I mean a team of scientists. Pam thought you might know of a place where we could do so without the government detecting us.”
The chief’s gaze roved between Pam and Mitch. “We know of such a place. But the danger to my people is very great. The government does not bother us while they think we don’t have access to any technology. But if they were to learn certain ‘truths’ they may not leave us alone any longer. I repeat; the risk is very great, not just because of what you carry but who is interested in it.”
Mitch met the chief’s eyes with his own and held them.
“I swear that the government will not learn your ‘truths’. I will destroy all evidence of the bees before I would let that happen. We will keep your secrets as our own.”
The chief studied Mitch, and then he addressed Pam.
“Daughter, you are a part of our people, one of our tribe, sworn to our protection and secrecy. Do you trust this man, as a Seiko tribeswoman?”
Pam picked up the chief’s hand and pressed her lips to the back of his wrinkled hand.
“I swear on my familial oath, that my brother is honest and worthy of your trust. He will not betray the Seiko tribe. I swear that if this is not true, I will slay him by my own hand after cutting out his deceitful tongue and feeding it to my dogs.”
The chief nodded, satisfied.
“Then you have my permission to travel to the sacred caves. Take however many warriors you need for security. Remember your oath.”
Mitch and Pam bowed low, twice, then returned the container of buzzing insects to the backpack and left the lodge. They passed out through the tent flaps and between the two sentinels. As they walked away, one of the young warriors ran off in a different direction, into the village.
Mitch leaned over and whispered in Pam’s ear, “You would cut out my tongue and feed it to your dogs, would you?”
Pam’s head turned and her eyes twinkled.
“It was the least painful of oaths. The other favoured way that the Seiko deal with the deceitful is to pull your intestines out through your belly button and wrap them around your lying throat, then hang you from the highest pole in the village square. You choke twice then, you see? Strangled by your own twisted gut and hung for good measure. My choice of death for you is much more merciful.”
“Gee, I feel so much better now,” muttered Mitch as Pam laughed.
“Come on, if we hurry we can be at the caves by nightfall. I want to show you them while it’s still light.”
Pam quickened her step and soon had Mitch jogging behind her as she hurried through the village, returning the greetings of the women they passed. By the time they had returned to the motorbike a group of six warriors were waiting for them, three women and three men.
Pam climbed on the bike and kicked it to life, Mitch once again taking his precarious seat on the back of the bike. Pam eased off the brake on the handle, and sped off toward the hills in the distance. The warriors ran. Fleet of foot, they had no trouble keeping up with the motorbike. Mitch was amazed at their speed but as he soon found out, riding the bike was not an advantage. The terrain became ever rockier and the climb steepened until the bike moved slower than the human feet. They inched their way along the rough terrain and forty painful minutes later, just as the sun flattened and the colour of the sky morphed to reds and oranges, the caves came into view.
The face of the cliff was sprinkled with holes, but the largest of them gave the cliff the appearance of a grinning skull. Bats flew in and out of the eyes of the face, blinking away into the dusky light, in search of their breakfast. The heated winds of day died away, as they parked the bike and began the last part of the climb to the largest cave. It was the nose of the rocky face, a flattened outcropping with two lopsided bores for the nostrils. Mitch pulled a crank-style flashlight from his pack. He spun the handle as he climbed behind Pam, building the charge in the battery. The sun plunged below the horizon just as they reached the lip of the cave. Mitch snapped on the flashlight and shone it into the dark hole in the face of the cliff, and nearly dropped it in shock as the beam revealed a shiny metal door. A weathered sign hung over the entrance and announced in barely legible paint “Integrated Blast Facility” and then in smaller letters below “Danger! Keep Out.” Over the sign an aged bell lantern hung, rusted and pitted with age.
“You found a bunker?” Mitch said, pleased. “This is fantastic! There is nothing more secure than this. Is it abandoned?”
“Yes, the government never comes here. It is deep within the Seiko tribes’ sacred lands. They wouldn’t dare enter, since the signing of the treaties of The Silenced Lands, seventy five years ago. They returned the traditional burial grounds and all structures on or below the surface to the Seiko at that time.”
“Brilliant. This is perfect.” Mitch walked up to the silvery barrier. “There is nothing more secure than a bunker. How do we get in?”
Pam tugged on his arm and he followed her to the right side where another door stood hidden in shadow.
“We use this entrance.”
She knocked on the door, the taps coded into a pattern. A series of knocks were returned and Pam tapped again a shorter message. After a moment of silence, the door swung open and they stepped into the dim interior. A narrow hallway ran a few feet and then broadened onto a catwalk suspended from the curved metal ceiling and fenced over like a chicken coop to keep one from dropping several stories to the stone floor below. The fenced walkways crisscrossed the vast room, descending to the floor at either end. From above, Mitch could clearly see the silos built into the floor, like empty eye sockets. Instead of missiles, however, the silos were filled to the brim with water. Precious, life preserving water.
Mitch whistled. “Talk about striking gold. You have found true treasure, Pam.”
Pam nodded. “I have, indeed. It was under our feet all along.”