by Marcus Rush » Fri Oct 18, 2013 12:40 am
- Weapon: Automatic Acid-Pellet Gun
Peruvian Valley: Mine Entrance - Tent City
The small curved end of the dental chisel waved in a slow and deliberate circular motion as the working pick began to carefully remove centuries of harden sediment from the cracks of the plastered statuary fragment. Simple strokes peeled off small nearly infinitesimal grains of dust from the dingy artifact. The pick stopped briefly as the artifact was raised up passed the small portable propane lantern into the dim dark haze of dust. A puff of air escaped the lips of the archeologist, removing the loosened materials off the crowned chevron shaped item.
Anikara set the pick down next to the base of his lamp on the thinly covered plastic card table. Without so much as a simple break of concentration, only the pale light of the lantern and the flicker of lightning as a back drop, he picked up the jeweler’s eye piece and placed it into a squinted right eye. Slowly he rotated the piece on an axis between his thumb and middle finger. He picked up a small brush and placed the horse haired bristles upon the strange crown and began to further remove the hardened debris he had so painstakingly chipped away.
Crashes of hellfire exploded across the skies before it was joined by the thunderous applause of ghosts long dead. The steady pelts of heavenly artillery had become something of an annoying droll to the sparse population of the primary tent that would serve as the command center, lab, mess hall and office for the expedition. Located at the apex of a cul-de-sac that comprised seven slightly smaller tents dedicated for bunks and food storage, it was on the far side of the mine entrance.
Silent sweeps of the brush were drawn up across the central fork between the two spires of the artifact. Each descent of the horse hair bristles were drowned out by the ever present hum of his propane lantern and power generator located at the farthest back of the tent. He blew again, this time dislodging a small fragment of dirt from the middle peaks of the crown, and allowed his work to settle down upon the table. He pulled off the eye glass and set it next to the artifact and allowed his eyes to adjust to the new contours of light. Ahead of his line of sight, wraths drowned by the symphony of storms and gods, flickered in and out of existence as they walked past the opening flap of what he had begun to dub the Center.
Men with arched backs and broad shoulders grunted and groaned in unison in the pale brilliance of crackling lightning overhead and the two battery powered flood lamps highlighted their silhouetted dance of intensive labor. Picks plunged deep into the mud; breaking loose thick seems of water laden earth, stone and mire as they clove their trench to the edge of the slopes. The gods beat their kettle drums as each sharpened edge of the molded steel tools delved deep in to the earth, trying to keep pace with the rivers of rain water that flowed relentlessly from the cliff face and sheer walls that shaped the natural cul-de-sac of stone, dwarfing the inverted reflection of tents below.
Anikara rubbed his eyes briefly before turning his attention to the vacant laboratory station situated on the far corner of the tent. Only a few standing flasks of glass had been set up in a wooden holder that stood next to a beaker half filled with a blue solution. Another burst of thundering timpani rolled directly overhead and caused the small set up to shake violently, the solution swashed back and forth before it began to stabilize once more.
He pushed himself up from his station and made his way over to the main flaps that sealed the interior of the tent from the continuous deluge outside. A quick tug on his jacket and a pull to straighten his jet black tie, Anikara pulled one of the canvas flaps and took a single step into the flood lamp illuminated quagmire that surrounded his burgeoning tent city. He settled his position on a slick yet steadily placed stone that served as the tent’s door mat, a stamping ground to remove clumps of mud from the boots of those who wished to enter the Center.
“Mister Sandoval!” he called through the pouring sheets of rain. The explosion of an overloaded power cable was his reply as a bolt of lightning struck one of the transport trucks dead center in its engine block, frying its electronics. “Mister Sandoval,” He called once more as men raced from their labors to clear debris out of tent four after a small portion of the mountain had broken away and began to encroach upon the canvas haven. Two men yelled something to another group carrying boulders excavated from the mound where the mine entrance was suspected to be. They simply nodded, their responses lost in the symphony of heavenly destruction on high. Anikara shook his head, his feet getting drenched though his head was protected by the overhanging tarp of the tent. He watched as the two men carried their loads to tent four and began to construct a make shift breakwater around their inundated bunks.
“Sorry Sir,” A huffing voice echoed from behind the furthest truck that was smoldering after its graceful death at the hands of vengeful gods. He splashed and nearly tumbled over the man made streams now roiling and flowing swiftly with rainwater. As the stocky built man turned the path a burst of electricity lanced out from the clouds and exploded upon the surface of a distant glacial chasm. A ball of fire licked the skies before dying in an invisible boil of smoke.
“I do not like being made to wait Mister Sandoval.”
The man finished his final sprint and a single hop over the largest stream that served as the main channel through the camp in which all of the other smaller cuts in the earth fed. “My apologies, one of our vehicles got hit. This storm is the spawn of El Diablo no doubt about it. Never in my day have I…”
Anikara held up a silencing hand as thunder in the distance echoed through the valley. A back drop of more spears of lightning lanced across the rent skies, provided Anikara a rather more imposing silhouette than before. “I do not wish to hear your excuses or your mystic mumbo. I do, however, wish to hear why I have not yet been granted entrance to the mines?”
Sandoval flipped back the saturated wisps of hair that sagged down from his balding pate. “Sir, this storm is a mess enough. The men are working to construct the drainage and walls to protect the outpost. Most of them are exhausted. By our projections, we should be able to bring our efforts to that task at first light. Once we have established our solid foundation.”
A brief chuckle, a staggering and menacing sound that filled the gaps between the rending echoes of thunder that rebounded from the mountain tops. “So what you are telling me Mister Sandoval is that these men are incapable of following simple instructions? Establish our camp before midnight and then begin shifts in excavation of the mine entrance. Such simple instructions, and they are unable to follow them to the letter?”
“No… I mean yes sir they are, but this storm is hindering…”
“Need I remind you of our time tables Mister Sandoval,” his voice raised briefly to emphasize the point of time. “If you are unable to start the process and get that mine entrance open… then I am sure that there are other individuals in this mire quite willing and equally as capable of taking your position.”
The threat did not require explanation, not after the scene on the roads leading down to the bottom of the valley. The woman who had accompanied the state historian circa businessman circa… had left a rather powerful impression on everyone in the expedition, including Sandoval himself. He knew already that his life was something that was expendable, all of theirs were, greed of some tended to play hell on those who required the work. A risk he had been willing to take, though at the present moment in time he was beginning to regret signing on that dotted line.
“I understand sir. We will begin excavations immediately.”
Anikara allowed a small gleam of a smile to curl out of the side of his left lip; it flickered in the electrical dance from above. “Good good, I knew I could count on you to accomplish this task. Now no more excuses. Divide your crew if you must, but get that mine open.” He pivoted on his heel and disappeared into the primary tent as the voice of Sandoval, the foreman of the operation, began to bellow instructions to retrieve the explosives from one of the central trucks.
Peruvian Valley: Tent 3
Mai pulled at the straps of her night gown as a burst of chilled wind swooped down from the glaciers above the valley. Bolts of lightning and timpani rolls of thunder added further to her discomfort. She rubbed her shivering arms before pulling the blanket tighter around her body. Another boom caused her knuckles to whiten in frustration, it added to the constant patter of pounding against the canvas fabrics.
After an hour of retiring to her self contained sanctuary that she had conquered as her very own, after all she was the only woman in this particular adventure and required the privacy, Mai had spent time storing her clothes along interior lines to dry out at the far corner. Once the foot locker was extracted from the truck and placed at the base of her cot, she stripped down only to redress in warmer garb. During that period she spent looking up at the top of her dark tent, watching the flashes of light and bracing for the cascade of eventual thunder that followed moments later, or simultaneously depending on the strike. She would turn from time to time to watch the shadowed figures race past her residence carrying tools and supplies to the various trench projects that had been forced into progression by necessities of natural disaster.
She did not really care what was going on, at least the details of the operations. It took away from her more pressing matters that had resulted in her deployment to this forsaken vale in the middle of the Peruvian mountain range. Mai stifled a yawn as she mused quietly in her cot. “Some assignment,” she muttered to herself as she fluffed her blanket as another burst of cold air rippled the canvas walls. “A simple escort operation to keep an eye on the bookworm, keep him pliant to the mission and of course ensure that everything went smoothly.”
A low moan of frustration escaped her lips as an explosion reverberated through her tent which was followed by screams and shouts from the men outside. She did not move from her semi warm cot and allowed the hired help to deal with whatever crisis was evolving. Mai doubted it required her attention anyways, if it had they would already be crying her name in fear of some invisible monstrosity that hid in the shadows.
Seconds ticked off and the shouts died down, allowing her to quietly resume her rest period. She released a muted sigh. Bored did not exactly describe her present state of mind, she was tired of flirting with the uninteresting politician opportunist, though it did help to secure her place by his side and his ear when decisions needed to be made. It was not surprising what the mire mention of gold or untold riches did to a normally placid individual, especially in this region of the world. Stability was far and few between, and more often than not those who came into unexpected wealth tended to take advantage of weak institutions and rise to power. Mai simply had to push the proper buttons and wait until the time came, all while making sure her mark was not killed off by some neo government operative bent on usurping all her employer’s hard work.
Another flash and cadence of thunder boomed overhead. This time new shouts came from the direction of the Center as new orders began to be dispatched. A single word was discerned ‘Charges.’ Mai’s attention was now solidified and she threw off her comfortable blanket. Resolving herself that sleep would not reach her this night, and knowing that her council would probably be required in the looming hours, she swiftly made her way to her trunk.
Mai dressed quickly in a pair of slacks, black, and a loose fitting scarlet blouse. She pulled her holster around her waist and hid it under a thick jacket she drew from her trunk. Once she straightened her hair and checked the cartridge in her weapons, she exited her tent to join Anikara. Trying desperately to tune out the biting cold, blusterous blare of thunder, spears of light that sent energy crackling through the air and spine, and the whispers in the dark.