Chapter 12

We got a very early start Thursday, which was good, because the weather was crap.

Prince Dipendra was unhappy because we made him stay at the palace. There was no way I would allow him to be anywhere near us. Considering that it wasn’t just pouring rain, it was also nearly impossible to see, I felt fortunate that our convoy made it out of Kathmandu in one piece. With the Gurkhas for support, we left our own troops behind, with Dave in charge of them. They weren’t happy, but they also knew better than to complain. The last thing I wanted was a fight between our troops and them.

The rain finally slacked off from a torrential downpour to simply an annoying drizzle by the time we reached Chandagiri an hour later. The next three miles of straight line distance took six miles by road and a full hour. I didn’t begrudge any of the time spent. I was riding with Beth in our jeep, and she was simply shaking her head in disbelief.

The ‘guardrails’ were concrete barricades, but they weren’t continuous. Our driver told us this was due to the snow and rain, so bad weather wouldn’t block the road. Also, of course, there wasn’t much sense in making the road that good, because every few years part of it would simply fall off the mountain and they’d have to cut a new path. Simple concrete with grooves cut in it for traction was good enough. Combine that with every so often having to stop while two buses going opposite directions met at a tight curve, which meant one of them would have to stop since there simply wasn’t room for both of them to get through at the same time, and I gained a whole new respect for drivers here.

Sayel was sitting in the back, simply enjoying the view.

I looked back at him. “What about this road on your motorcycle?”

“Are you ordering me to do this?”

“No.”

“Then, with absolutely all due respect to you as my Master, are you fucking insane?”

That made Beth laugh and at least feel a little better.

I leaned over to her. “Why are you so concerned?” I whispered.

“You’re going to think I’m silly,” she whispered back. “I’m not driving, so all I can do is look over the edge. When I was younger and we’d go to Manhattan ... well, some of the roads have two hundred foot drop offs right next to the pavement there. Instead of looking out the window at how far I could see, all I could do was look down. There were a couple of wrecks still at the bottoms of those ravines.”

I opened my mouth, then shut it. Then I simply leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “It’s okay. What’s funny is that if I threw you out ... or you threw me out ... it’s only six hundred feet straight down from here to the bottom of the gorge. Neither of us would notice it in the least when we hit the bottom.”

“This is one of those childhood fears, my love. That’s what makes it funny, even to me. I’ve looked down at the planet from five hundred miles up and not felt any fear at all. Sitting here in this jeep, I’m scared.”

“We’re almost to the bottom. So, just look my way, or close your eyes. The good news is that once we get down to the bottom of this mountain, the road follows the river basically all the way to Pokhara. Of course, that’s also the bad news.”

“It is? Why?”

“Monsoon season?”

“Oh. Shit, that means the road may be flooded.”

“Yep. It’s about ninety miles from where the road splits off, and if we can get there in only five hours I’ll be happy. There’s a reason two of the trucks with troops are carrying extra fuel.”

It took us six and a half, with a lot of the time our vehicles in four or six wheel drive, going through floodwaters that either simply covered the road, or twice, were even with the bottom of our jeeps. We had to stop several times to remove other vehicles from our path, or to change out the drivers. The sheer amount of concentration needed, plus the water itself being cold, even though the air wasn’t, took its toll on everyone.

But Beth was happy, now that she wasn’t looking down into valleys. She, Dora, and Eve were doing tourist things, using their distance vision to look up at the wildlife on the mountains. They were also using their cameras to get some incredible shots with the telephoto lenses. There was a bit of a running commentary from home.

We finally made it to Pokhara, making good time during the last bit of the trip because the road no longer ran next to the swollen river. We did have to cross a different river, on a bridge that had water nearly touching the bottom of it.

Cain and Abel had already made arrangements for us to have an entire hotel just for us. When I saw the name of the hotel as we pulled up, I just laughed.

“Hotel Mountain View? Someone has a sense of humor.” The only thing that was visible to the north, above the city skyline, were the mountains towering thousands of feet above us.

The family that ran the hotel were happy to see us, as they’d thought we were to be in yesterday. However, they didn’t have enough room or food for everyone with us, because they weren’t expecting three military trucks loaded with Gurkha soldiers. They only had eight rooms. The troops didn’t stay with us, though. They were spending the evening with the local defense unit and would meet back up with us in the morning.

It was also convenient because we were only a block from the District Administration offices, and we needed to check in with them. Suwal stayed with us. His uniform had his actual Nepal Army rank insignia on it, a single blade over the top of crossed khukuris.

“I’m surprised, Major Suwal. I would have thought the King’s Guard would have been made up of police officers,” I said as he escorted Chuck, Brent, and me.

“Yes, well, some of us had parents who were married,” he replied.

That got a chuckle from Chuck and Brent.

“In all seriousness, while I am the best hand-to-hand fighter in King Birendra’s service ... now in your service ... the King’s Guard is rather rank heavy. When we were meeting you, the lowest ranking member was a Lieutenant. That was due to your own status. We do have other ranks, of course. There are legitimate reasons for this. Serving a tour is either a reward for a job well done, or a prerequisite for further promotion, sometimes both. No one serves in that unit who has less than ten years military service.”

Chuck nodded. “Makes sense. Other than dealing with the Khampas back in the ‘70’s, the only time your troops really got to do anything is when they were deployed as UN Peacekeepers. At least we always knew those troops were honorable, which is more than we could say about a lot of nations’ troops. Now, with the UN defunct, having them work either directly for Cal and our military operations branch, or for General ... sorry, Marshal Demidov and the Federation is your main way of ‘blooding’ your troops.”

“Exactly. Ah, here we are.” We walked in.

There was a single counter, with a man sitting behind it. In Nepalese, he asked, “What do you want?”

“I am Major Suwal, of the King’s Guard, escorting His Majesty, King Lewis of the First People and Prince of Punjab.”

The attitude of the man behind the counter changed rapidly. “Ah, my pardon. When the party did not arrive yesterday, we assumed they were not coming. I can have everyone here for the greeting in just a few minutes, though!”

Suwal saw my slight shake.

“That will not be necessary. It has been a long drive from the Royal Palace, due to the condition of the roads. His Majesty wishes to simply retire for the evening, before he continues his trip in the morning. However ... you can do something useful, which would reflect well upon you and your office. Make sure that everyone in town knows that tomorrow, His Majesty King Birendra, has decreed a day of national mourning for the victims of the bombings. Since there was one here as well, everyone should understand that. Therefore, from dawn tomorrow until dusk, no one should be indoors. They are to be outside, reflecting and meditating upon the tragic events.” He then handed a piece of paper to the man behind the counter that I presumed were orders.

“Um ... certainly, Sir. Is there anything else I can do?”

In Nepalese, I said, “Just make sure you do that. It is most important that this happen.”

He looked at me, confused. “And you are?”

“King Lewis.”

He went pale. “Yes, Majesty.”

With that, the four of us turned and left his office.

“You know, I almost feel like you enjoyed that,” Brent said.

I shrugged. “You weren’t in Alaska. I’ve found that the further removed from the central offices someone is, the more likely they are to ignore things. While this isn’t that far from Kathmandu, with all of the different districts and little power groups that exist here in Nepal, the occasional reminder that someone can show up out of nowhere is often a good thing. Plus, sometimes you get bait for crab traps.”

Brent chuckled. “There’s not a lot I can say, because I know you weren’t bluffing. You know, at one time I thought you were. God, was that only December, when I first met you? This has been one hell of a roller coaster.”

I laughed. “Not the first time I’ve heard that, Brent. Um...” I stopped in the walled garden outside our hotel, where we were out of view of the street. “Cop a squat for a few minutes.”

There were chairs outside, so Chuck and Brent took seats. Suwal looked confused until he realized what I meant by their actions. I simply raised my feet up, sitting without using a chair, while keeping a close eye on Brent as I did so. His lack of surprise at my actions told me I’d been right to stop for this talk. That Suwal didn’t react did surprise me.

At my look, he said, “I am from the Annapurna. We know that the legends have their basis in reality. We also know that things are different, since the alien showed up, and since he left. We are a small nation between giants, but we have the home of Shiva here. His treasure remains under guard, even to this day.”

He looked towards the mountain range, where the peak of Machapuchare could be seen over the garden wall, with the setting sun glinting off the snow covered peak.

Nodding at the spectacular mountain, he said, “It is a part of our history that the entrance to Shiva’s home is at the summit of the mountain. It is sacred to the Gurung people, for they are the descendants of his closest servants. Oh, yes, we know this, we simply don’t share much of what we know with outsiders, even the British that we have been so close to over the years.” He glanced down at his watch. “If you can wait five more minutes, I believe you will get a fuller explanation.”

“Sure. Brent, I’m guessing you’ve been briefed on some high level things.”

“That’s one way of phrasing it. We’ve seen the video. I know when we first met you, James and I thought you were an arrogant and cocky kid that had some serious connections. I know, now, you’re not arrogant in the least, and for a good reason. So, really, the fate of the whole world really rests in your hands?”

I’d heard a car park just outside the hotel, a door open and shut, and footsteps as a man walked towards the hotel. He’d heard Brent’s voice, and stopped to listen.

“Go ahead and come around to this side of the wall, so you don’t have to strain to hear,” I said.

“Just because I’m almost seventy years old doesn’t mean I’m a spy,” the man said. He came around, then stopped when he saw us sitting around a table. “You must be Major Suwal,” he said in Nepalese.

“Of course, Colonel Roberts,” Suwal replied. “I see you got my note even sooner than I anticipated.”

“My shop is just on the other side of the Administration office. They keep me in the loop when people are coming here to climb, since I pay them enough to do so. Now, what’s this fate of the whole world all about?”

I grinned. “Here, let me get you a chair,” I said. I moved my right hand, lifting a chair from the other side of the garden and bringing it over for him.

“Oh, my,” he said. “I thought you were ... but you’re not, are you?”

“Faking it? Not in the least. So, I have a rank and last name for you. How about the rest?” I asked.

“Of course. Lieutenant Colonel James Roberts, MBE, RVO, served with His and Her Majesty’s Gurkhas from 1936 until I retired in 1962. Combat in North Africa, Burma, and Malaysia. And you, Sir?”

“California Lewis, with an assortment of titles. You can pick which one you want. King of the First Peoples, Prince of the Punjab, Guardian of Earth, it doesn’t matter much. I’ve also got four Doctorate’s from Stanford. This is Chuck Allen, head of my personal security, and Brent Cain, US State Department and my personal troubleshooter.”

“I was born in Gujarat, you know. So I’ve heard of what Missus Gandhi and Miss Bhutto are doing, getting rid of the troublemakers. That’s your nation, then, is it?”

“One of them. But I’m also guessing that Major Suwal didn’t ask you here to simply chat about that.”

“Not bloody likely. Not when you’re sitting here looking at the Fish Tail.”

“Tell us about it.”

“I’ve served my whole career with Gurkhas, of course, and I know the history of their cousins, the Gurung. I’m a product of the British Empire, modern, civilized, and not one who believes in ancient religions and superstition, no matter that I was born and raised in India. My formal education was in England, and I’m a graduate of Sandhurst, your equivalent to West Point. But my first love is climbing. I’ve been to the top of many of these peaks. I’d wanted to climb that mountain since the first time I saw it. I started making plans to climb Machapuchare in 1956, and the six of us headed up in the spring of 1957. That’s the only one we stopped climbing, on purpose, before we reached the summit.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you’ve no doubt heard the official word, that King Mahendra requested that we stop short. Or that there were problems we had with supplies, so that only Noyce and Cox pushed on, but stopped short of the summit due to bad weather. Poppycock! All of it. No, we stopped because the damned mountain told us to stop!”

“Well, it’s probably a good thing you listened. Otherwise, I doubt you’d have lived very long after that,” I said.

He leaned back, shocked. “You believe me? Just like that? We all heard a voice in our heads telling us to turn back, and you have no trouble believing me?”

“That’s how the systems communicate. You could call it telepathy, if you like. You’re also the first ‘normal’ person to hear it, at least that I know about.”

“Of course he is. That’s because you’re not normal,” Chuck said.

“Guilty as charged, but that’s irrelevant to our discussion. This is not. Colonel, I’m sure you and those that were with you have by now probably halfway dismissed everything you heard as just something you’ve imagined, maybe due to oxygen deprivation at altitude.” At my words, I could see those were exactly his thoughts.

“They weren’t,” I flatly stated. “What I need you to do is think back, if you can, and tell me exactly what the mountain said to you.”

“Oh, I can do that, without any trouble at all, lad. Erm, Your Majesty.” I waved it off, so he’d continue. “Thank you. There were six of us. Me, Wilfrid Noyce, David Cox, and three Gurkhas that were our support. We were all experienced climbers. Wilfrid was part of Edmund Hillary’s expedition up Everest, you know. Things started out quite normal. We acclimated to the elevation as we climbed, and we had tubes of oxygen if we needed them. It may sound funny since I can barely make it to base camp height now, but in those days, when we were all in our prime, we could easily get to seven thousand meters without needing anything but time to adjust. David even made it to the South Col of Everest, at seventy-nine hundred meters, without oxygen, but that’s dangerous.

“Anyway, other than simply having to be careful, because the closer we got to the peak, the steeper things got, we were having absolutely no trouble at all. Thing is, you come at her from the side you can see from here, you may as well fly, because you’re climbing the bloody Matterhorn! From the other side, you’re simply climbing a ridge line. Don’t get me wrong, it’s dangerous, damned dangerous, because you’re literally on the ridge line. One misstep in either direction, and you’re falling down one side of the range or the other. For us? Nothing we hadn’t dealt with before. You simply make sure you’re roped together, and no one makes any steps without both poles in the ice. We had plenty of rope, too, and were putting our rings into rock, for safety.

“Well, Wilfrid was in the lead, with one of our Gurkhas behind him, when suddenly the Sherpa simply stopped. We were maybe two hundred meters down from the summit, about half a mile out. There’s a smaller peak that you either have to very carefully go around, or you go over. We were there, and the bloody Sherpa stopped. He kept saying that he could hear the mountain telling him to go no further. David and I caught up with him, and then our Gurkhas were saying the same thing.” He stopped talking for a moment, caught in a memory.

“Neither David nor Wilfrid were fluent in Nepalese. I was, since I’d been with them the whole time I was in the Army. I could hear the damned voice in my head. We were being told to stop, that we were intruding in a secure area, and that further intrusion would be dealt with. We spent some time talking, and finally the two of them didn’t believe us, especially me, since climbing that mountain had been something I’d dreamed of doing for years. I did say, out loud, that the two men proceeding on didn’t speak the language, couldn’t hear the warning, and didn’t believe me. Damn me if the mountain didn’t say back that it was studying me, and would communicate with them later. Well, the Gurkhas and I turned around, and headed back down to our last camp. Six hours later, David and Wilfrid showed up. The only thing they’d say was that they’d wished they’d listened to me, and they hadn’t made it to the top, either.

“We concocted the story about bad weather, and all of us talked to King Mahendra, including our Gurkhas. That’s when he made the mountain off limits, due to religious reasons. Those were as good as any. Thing is ... Wilfrid was killed in an accident in the summer of 1962, on his way down from a peak. He was tied together with young Robin Smith, who was one of the most experienced young climbers in the world. It was supposed to be Wilfrid’s last climb. One of them supposedly slipped, so they fell more than four thousand feet. The thing is ... I’ve talked to both Hunt and Brown, who were on that trip. No one saw them fall, they only heard a loud noise, like a crack of thunder from when ice breaks. That was it. They buried them in the ravine where they found them. David ... I don’t know what happened to him. He’d been a bloody Night Climber at Oxford, for God’s sake. He just vanished, like he never existed. And ... there’s one more thing.”

He was quiet for almost half a minute, his eyes looking haunted. He softly said, “Bill Denz, from New Zealand. Cocky lad, but damned good. He came to see me, here, just a couple of years ago. We spent quite some time just discussing mountains and peaks, routes and such. Different safety techniques, how things had changed over the years. Then he was gone, for almost two weeks. When he came back, to get his kit, he was a changed man. He looked scared. I asked him if he’d climbed the Fish Tail. He bolted out of my shop, leaving his gear behind, and I never saw him again. He was with an expedition climbing Makalu, the other side of Everest. His party was returning to base camp, and a small avalanche caught him, and only him, took him into a basin and buried him under three meters of rock and snow. Oh, and there was a crack of thunder before that avalanche, too, which in October in this part of the world is damned unusual.”

He looked at us now, returning from his memories. “I don’t climb any more. I haven’t for years. And I never will. I fought in the war, I’ve had men shooting at me, I’ve killed men. I honestly wasn’t scared by that. There’s something on that mountain that scares me.”

I nodded. “Then it’s definitely only going to be the four of us tomorrow.” At his look, I hurriedly said, “No, not the four of us here. My wives and I.”

“Five,” stated Major Suwal. “Plus ... five of my men, in one of our vehicles. We will escort Your Majesty as far as we can. Based upon my maps, it’ll take us close to two hours to get to where the road ends.”

“Six,” came from behind all of us. The others jumped, as they were startled by Sayel. “I have said that where my Master goes, I go. I can wait with the Gurkhas. Perhaps I can teach them something about blade work, while we are waiting for your return.”

Suwal started to retort, then stopped. “Perhaps you can, at that.” He looked thoughtful. “Colonel Roberts, is there anything else you can add?”

He was shaking his head. “You’re going to climb the Fish Tail? After what I just told you? I’m sorry, but I think you’re signing death warrants for you and your wives. Look, you’ve been kind to listen to an old man reminisce. Where’s your gear, I’ll take a look at it, and check it over for you.”

“Thank you, Sir, that won’t be necessary. I appreciate you coming by.” I held up my hand. A window from upstairs opened up, and a bundle of money came falling down. “Thank you, Beth! Here, Colonel, for your trouble.” I tossed it to him.

“What’s this? Ten thousand American dollars? Good Lord, that’s a fortune here!”

“As I said, for your trouble, and for the entertaining and educational story you told. Good luck with your shop, and ... don’t be indoors tomorrow, from dawn until dusk. For everyone else, it’s a day of mourning and reflection due to the bombings. For you, and you only ... don’t be surprised if you hear thunder tomorrow. Lots of thunder.”

His expression wasn’t a happy one, after such a financial windfall, but he still left.

The girls joined us in the garden. “What do you think?” I asked.

“Planetary defense system, fully operational, and not very nice, at all. Mister Cain, I’m sure you heard about the little incident in the North Atlantic,” Dora said.

“Little incident? Yeah, if that’s what you want to call all three superpowers suddenly having their satellites go nuts.” He stopped for a moment, thinking. “Shit! Sorry, ladies. I need to find a phone and make some quick phone calls before tomorrow, don’t I?”

Eve chuckled. “Presuming that those satellites monitor the Himalayan mountains, then yes, you probably should.”

“Can I know what happened?”

“Testing the powers of the Guardian, basically,” Beth said.

“Damn.” He got up. “Major, could you please give me a ride to wherever I can call Washington, Moscow, and Beijing?”

“Certainly.” Major Suwal got up and headed for the parking lot with Brent in tow.

“At least James stayed back in Kathmandu. I’m sure that together, they would have been wondering why Beth, Eve, and Dora are going with me tomorrow. Come on, let’s get something to eat and make an early night of it. I want out of here before dawn.”

“You know the Gurkhas are going to either suspect, or know something,” Chuck said.

“They’re like the people from around Uluru, or Adak. They already know something that the rest of the world has ignored. I’m just hoping that when the word spreads among their people ... and it will spread ... that I don’t end up with every damned Gurkha warrior in the world working for me.”

“Ayo Gorkhali, indeed,” Sayel said with a chuckle.

It was still dark when we got up and got dressed. The family running the hotel knew we were planning on being out today and had prepared breakfast and a lunch for us. They didn’t ask where we were going. I made sure that they knew to be outside during the day.

Major Suwal, Sayel, and Chuck were all waiting for us downstairs.

“So much for sneaking out,” I said. “And just where do you think you’re going?”

“Someone has to keep Sayel company, someone that won’t get angry with him. Plus ... I’ve been told I get to take photographs today. For your private records,” Chuck added.

I rubbed my eyes, then sighed. “Fine. Don’t break the cameras.”

At least it wasn’t raining this morning. We were in two jeeps and one military truck. It had food and tents for the soldiers to set up a small camp while waiting for us.

The roads were more convoluted than the ones we’d been on in India. Major Suwal was surprised that we didn’t take the regular entrance into the Annapurna, simply going straight for the mountain. We had to go down one stretch with every vehicle again in four or six wheel drive, because it would have been generous to call it a goat path. There was a tremendous amount of terrace farming in this area, with crops planted in little swatches all up the mountainside.

We passed several temples on these back roads. Just before we had to ford a creek on what were now gravel roads, I saw that the local Hindu temple was dedicated to Shiva. I wasn’t too shocked. It took us almost three hours to travel the twelve miles. We were still six miles from Machapuchare.

Major Suwal looked perturbed. “Your Majesty, none of you are dressed for mountain climbing. You have no gear. We’re already almost a thousand meters above the city. There’s snow and ice on the peak, and it’ll take you at least three days to get to altitude.”

“Don’t worry about it, Major. Chuck, Sayel, presuming there are fireworks, keep your heads down, okay? I don’t want to explain to Melissa or your wife what happened.”

“It would be most embarrassing to be flattened by a rock, after surviving everything else I’ve dealt with,” Sayel calmly said.

They started setting things up in the mud and rock, while the four of us started walking. I’m sure the soldiers were trying to figure out why we weren’t sinking into the mud. They watched us as we made good time, finally losing sight of us in the forest.

“How soon do you think we’ll get contacted?” Eve asked.

“I don’t know. We know they’ve noticed us before at five miles, which is barely another half mile more up this valley. You think the troops are wondering just how crazy we are?”

“That’s a given,” Beth replied.

I pointed to a ridge line. “Let’s get up there, so we can see better.” I sighed. “I almost wish we hadn’t had to come with a crew, because it’d have taken us a lot less than three hours to get here this morning.”

“I don’t think explaining four flying people is something we’re prepared to do just yet, mi amor. Although we may have to, by the time we’re done today.”

It only took us a couple of minutes to climb the thousand foot ridge.

“There’s a temple on the other side of this valley,” Beth said.

“There’s temples all over the place here, so that doesn’t surprise me. The mountain’s sacred to them due to Shiva, of course. Also, because of how tough it was to get from one valley to the next, these temples are really all somewhat like small towns in parts of the US. Your next door neighbors may only be a mile from you, but you have to go ten miles to get there.”

“Exactly. I know that’s how Jesse James used to operate when he was robbing banks in Missouri, with those valleys,” she answered. “Is it just me, or is there almost a shimmer in the air just ahead a few hundred feet?”

“It’s not just you, Liz,” Eve said. “I see it, too.”

“I just did some quick triangulation in my mind. That’s right at five miles from the peak of the mountain,” Dora added.

“Three guesses where the power draining field starts, and the first two don’t count.” I looked at the three of them. “In line, and behind me, please.” I was happy they didn’t argue with me, but simply lined up behind me as we closed with and then crossed the line.

From right behind me, Beth simply raised herself a foot off the ground. “All good.” She came back down, and we kept walking. I stopped when we were just over two miles away.

“Anything?”

They shook their heads.

“Okay, let’s do about a six mile flight. Hands on each others’ feet, just in case. We’re going to circle around, and land on the peak on the other side, where Colonel Roberts said they’d approached. That way, we’re already closer to the right altitude.”

I kept our speed down, but at nearly four hundred miles per hour, it took us less than a minute. I was surprised that didn’t get a reaction from the mountain.

“If nothing else, I wish I’d brought my camera,” Eve said. “This is a spectacular view, and it’s one we could’ve legitimately shared with others.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think about it,” I said. “Maybe when we’re done, and we’ve got this mess cleaned up, we can run up Everest or something.”

That lightened the mood as we approached the one mile mark. Right at one mile, I felt the tickling in my head. I looked back, and the girls nodded. They felt it, too. I could see the peak that Colonel Roberts had mentioned, still almost a quarter mile ahead of us. The tickling got stronger, then I finally heard the voice.

“Warning! You have entered a restricted area. I am an autonomous security system. Automatic defenses will activate should you continue to approach this facility. This warning will repeat!” I stopped, and let the warning repeat itself, then started walking again.