Coming Home By Lone Wolf
Carl Hollister loved coming home. He rarely got long breaks from school, but being the holidays, he was glad to have the break from classes and be able to come home to the colony of Dechem Six. He was studying Political Science and hoped to some day get a job working with dignitaries and representatives from various parts of the Federation. He had always been fascinated by other cultures and hoped they could someday find more peaceful ways to share the universe.
His parents had helped to found this colony, and he had felt it every bit the home they tried to make it for him. Dechem Six was one of a series of colonies that had been set up in the system as a huge movement about 25 years ago. It had been just before his parents had married that they were on the original survey mission for this planet, which later brought them together, and they decided to stay. He liked thinking of his parents as young explorers in the galaxy who met each other on a mission that shaped their fates. It was so romantic, and almost perfect, or at least he thought so.
His parents had made a run to the city. They lived on the edge of the populated region, in a beautiful area that was full of green trees, and rolling hills that bordered the mountains to the west of the main settlement here. They had an orchard and some livestock, but traded in the city often. It wasn't far, but it took about a half-hour by hover-car to get there.
Carl had enjoyed the warm morning sun walking through the orchards, but as the sun got high in the sky, he decided he preferred the shade of the indoors for a bit. Strolling through the house, he picked at some of the things his mother collected around the place. More than anything, they collected dust, but they were interesting bits of trivia from days gone by. This took him on a journey down memory lane and he recalled his mother storing some of his childhood things in the attic. He took himself up the stairs to the dusty old attic to laugh at some of his childhood artifacts.
He had gone through a large box that held most of their old sports equipment, laughing at the small discarded items. There was a baseball that had a few extra dimples in it from when he had taught their dog how to fetch. A tennis racket that was so warped it was comical, and he could not imagine why they were saving it. There was even an old pair of anti- gravity skates that he had learned how to use when he was 10, but now only worked intermittently, as the coils were long since past their life-span.
Bored with those items, he began to look around for other long lost treasures. He often thought of these kinds of moments as treasure hunts. No matter how many times he looked through the boxes and trunks, he always found something new and interesting. This time was to be no exception.
Looking about, he spotted a dull metallic shape under some old clothes. Pulling the things aside, he discovered a footlocker of some kind. It had the name Carl Hollister stenciled onto the side. It had been his father's, and Carl junior had been named after him.
Running his hands along the name, he wiped some of the dust from it, and understood that it had not been opened for a very long time. He tried to open it, but it was locked. He thought for a moment, and then tried some numbers. He got it on the third try. He shook his head thinking that his dad really wasn't very bright when it came to such things. Using his birthday of all things as a combination really wasn't a good idea if you wanted to keep someone out.
The hinges creaked as he lifted the lid. The contents had been perfectly preserved over the years. Not a bit of dust had fallen on these items until he had just now opened the case. He saw a couple old PADD's, some uniforms, a couple pictures and a small box. He picked up the pictures and saw some old bar with an ugly Ferengi tending it at a dock or star base of some kind. The other one had a small group of people huddled together smiling. He could make out his mom and dad in the picture, but didn't know whom the others were. He figured they must have been old friends as his mom and dad were on each side of one guy who was laughing while the others looked on.
Switching the pictures to his other hand, he picked up the small box. Upon closer inspection, he realized it wasn't a box, but an old style communicator. He flipped it open with a flick of his hand and heard it chirp.
"Cool!" He said this to himself out loud as he touched various buttons and turned the dials to try and make it do something. He was very pleased when he finally got it to light up and give him some static. He finally thought he had part of it figured out and began playing with it, making it light up in different ways and pretending to talk to people that weren't there.
In a deliberately too deep voice he said, "Captain, there is no intelligent life down here." He then laughed at himself until he heard something different happen with the communicator. It hissed at him.
Carl was surprised at first, thinking he had pressed something, but then as he held it, it did it again. As he was about to close it, he thought he heard a voice mixed with the hiss the third time. He thought to himself, "Holy kreth, I think I can actually hear someone on this ancient hunk of junk!"
"Hello?.Hello, is there anyone there?"
Silence was all he got. He was beginning to think that he had imagined it, but tried once more just to say he had, and then he was going to put it away.
"This is Carl Hollister, is there anyone there? Respond if you can hear me."
Again nothing. He had half closed the lid with his other hand when he heard something come from it that sounded like a hiss, but mixed with garbled words. He lifted it closer to his ear and heard it again, but this time more distinct.
Then came a more clear voice, but one like he had never heard before. It said in a questioning tone simply one word.
"Carl?"
The voice sounded distant and echoed in a muffled sort of way that was hard to describe.
Carl was shocked to not only get a response, but that they had repeated his name. He didn't like how the voice sounded though. It creeped him out a bit. He thought to himself though that the communicator was very old, and likely wasn't very compatible with most modern systems. This old thing couldn't reach too far though, so he figured who ever it was had to be within 1000 kilometers or less, unless they were in space.
"Hello?.I can barely hear you. Who is this?"
Again a long silence and then the voice came back again in that almost echoing manner saying in a rather tired voice, "This is Peter."
Carl thought to himself, and then it came to him. Peter Foster was a guy he had gone to the local high school with and had been a real electronics nut. They had really had some great times, but he had not seen him in years. Wow, what luck them both being home for the holidays, this was going to be great!
"Peter? Wow, imagine you answering this thing. I can't believe it!"
The voice answered more quickly this time, but still sounded very weary and tired with that echoing backdrop. It was almost a watery sound to the voice.
"I've been waiting a very long time for you Carl."
This puzzled Carl. He hadn't let anyone know he was coming back other than his parents.
"You've been waiting for me?"
"Yes Carl. I always knew that someday you would come."
"Where are you?"
"I'm stuck in the mountains, where you left me."
Now Carl was confused again. They had gone into the mountains a few times, but they had always come back together. Well, either way, he must have meant that he was where they use to go in the mountains, and perhaps they could meet there.
"You're there right now?"
"Yes.I want you to come to where I am so I can share something with you."
Carl wasn't sure what to say at first. He wanted to say no, but he couldn't come up with a reason not to. He shook off his feelings on it, and decided he was being silly. It was a beautiful day outside, and he had nothing better to do. It would be wonderful in the mountains right now.
"Alright Peter, but give me a moment. I'll call you back when I'm ready."
There was no answer from the old and beaten piece of history in his hands. He then closed it, and headed down stairs.
He quickly headed down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Grabbing a stylus and digi-pad, he scrawled a note to his parents. He still had the pictures in his left hand as he did so, and placed them on the counter with the communicator as he finished up.
Dear mom & dad, Got a call from Peter Foster and am going to meet him in the mountains for the day. Be back soon, Carl
He then grabbed a couple of apples to snack on while he walked and headed for the door. At the last minute, he stopped, turned around and grabbed the communicator from the counter, then rushed out the door. The pictures remained behind.
Carl's mother and father returned home, the hover-car laden with parcels. They began to carry them into the house, and his mother tried to call for him to help, but he was not there to answer. She discovered the note as she set down the first armload of groceries.
Shaking her head, she said to her husband, "Honey! Carl has gone off to meet with his friend Peter Foster. I guess it is likely to be you and I for dinner."
Carl Sr. came strolling in, carrying two bags in each arm. "Who did you say?"
"Peter Foster."
He shook his head and said, "I don't think so dear. His father and I were talking the other day, and he is on field maneuvers with his unit right now. He isn't likely to be home until perhaps next year this time. What ever gave you the impression he had done such a thing?"
She held up the note in response, and he shook his head again as he read it. His face was becoming puzzled as he tried to make sense of it all, but as he set the note PADD down; his face went blank and appeared to lose all color. His eyes had fallen on the pictures on the counter.
His wife followed his eyes to the pictures and then smiled as she said, "Oh my goodness! I haven't seen these things since forever! Where ever did you find them dear?"
He didn't answer, but instead walked to the house terminal in the kitchen.
"Computer, list all incoming and outgoing calls for today."
The computer responded, [No calls on file for that time period.]
"Honey, what's wrong?"
"Nothing dear, I just think I need to go and see about Carl. I think someone is playing a trick on him. I'll try to hurry back."
"What are you talking about?"
Without answering her, he kissed her quickly and dashed out the door. Mary stood there with her hands on her hips, not believing what was going on. She called after him, "What about dinner?.MEN!"
It was a beautiful day and Carl Jr. was enjoying the fresh mountain air drifting down into the hills. He was just approaching the base of the mountains when he decided to open the communicator again.
"Pete? Are you still there?"
The response was a bit clearer this time, but still had an odd sound to it, "Yes, I'm still here."
"Where are you? I'm at the main pass near my house. Which area are you in?"
"I'm in the caves."
Carl thought that was rather odd. Those caves had always been off limits, as they were known to be unstable and very dangerous. It did explain the odd sound to his voice though. It would sound that way if he was underground, but then it could also be the poor sound quality of this rather beaten up old equipment.
"Why are you in the caves?"
"I told you. I have something I want to share with you."
"The caves are dangerous though. I'm never going to hear the end of it if I go in there."
"Carl, I've waited a long time to share this with you. Please hurry."
The voice sounded almost urgent now. He thought it was clearer than before, but yet he didn't think it sounded right.
Carl sighed and said, "Oh alright, but it is going to take me a few minutes yet. I'll let you know when I'm closer and you can guide me to where you are."
He closed the communicator once again and put it in his back pocket.
He continued to climb until the hills gave way to the more rugged terrain. At that point he turned around and looked at the view. It brought back the flood of memories from his childhood. His parents had always hated him coming up here, his father especially. Carl and his friends would sneak away though. They loved to bring their land surfers up high like this and crank the repelling coils in their boards all the way up so they could clear the small rocks and sticks. He would take a running start and then dive onto his board, flying down the mountain and onto the plains below. He loved how it felt to whip along at such speeds that tears would form streaming back from his eyes from the wind rushing past him. That was his first love affair with flying, and he would always remember it. Some would work their technique of reducing drag in the wind, but he liked to hold his arms up and feel it pulling at him as he defied it and leaned forward into it even more.ah, those were the days.
Pulling himself from memory lane, he returned to his efforts of climbing the trail. Once he reached the fork that lead to the natural caves, he stopped. He could hear his father's voice in his head cautioning him against ever going there. He had always been very adamant that he never go near there. He had only disobeyed once. He had gone with some friends, and on a dare entered one of the caves, but almost didn't live to regret it. One of the caves nearby had given way, crumbling in on itself, and he had come running out to see. It saved his life, as the opening he had been standing in collapsed next. The formations in these mountains were very unstable. There was a high concentration of quartz and pockets of loose sand and the geological activity in these mountains was pretty high. New caves were always forming, but some were more stable than others. There were not enough minerals to warrant attempts at mining in the area, because the risks were just too high.
As he approached the caves, he opened the communicator again. "I'm just outside the caves. Where are you?"
"I'm inside. I've been waiting."
"Well, those things are unstable, you need to come out here so we can talk."
"No, what I want to show you is inside. Look to the far right. There are some older formations. They are more stable and I think they have been here for a very long time."
"I don't know. How far in are you?"
"Not far.hurry."
Unknown to Carl, his father was running up the side of the mountain. He was in a panic. He didn't know why, but he could feel it in his bones.something was very wrong. Why would Carl go to the mountains? He had always warned him about the dangers. Then there was the old picture. He thought he had gotten rid of all those old things years ago. He couldn't get that picture out of his mind. He had been madly in love with his beautiful wife, but she hadn't been his wife then. Back then she was still the woman of his dreams. Unfortunately, she was also the woman of someone else's dreams too.the other man in that picture.Peter Reynolds.
Using his light to see, Carl probed the insides of the cave cautiously. This one was much more stable than any others he had seen. He had just never been in this particular one. Other kids had though, or so it would seem. There were scattered wrappers and the remains of a small fire that was ages old now. It had the feel of some secret party spot that perhaps some of the older kids came to for who knew what purposes. He grinned at the thought and knew that if he had known about this spot back then.well, kids weren't so different after all he guessed. Shaking his head, he spoke again into the communicator. "So, you wanted to share your favorite spot, huh? Pretty cool! Spend lots of time here do you?"
"Yes.I have spent lots of time here."
"So where are you then?"
"Deeper in.keep going."
He panned the light and found the passage and continued to follow it. It narrowed in spots, but wasn't too bad actually. He could hear rumbles from time to time, but they were not close. Once a bit of sand fell into his hair, but nothing dangerous.
Carl's father made it to the fork and saw the footprints heading to the caves. His heart sank as he called out, but got no response. Knowing what he must do, he continued forward, following the footsteps. When he saw the trail lead into the one cave, he fell to his knees. He knew he should have tried to find an excuse to seal it up years ago, but never did. He couldn't bring himself to ever come back up here again.now he was going in.the first time in over two decades.As he moved deeper into the passages, he could hear a voice echoing off the walls.he knew that voice.
Carl Jr. was hearing that same voice now.much clearer than before. It was still sounding with an echo, but he could understand it now. He didn't have to strain to make out the words. What Pete was saying began to make no sense though.none at all.
"Doesn't this bring back memories? Don't you recall these cold walls?"
"Should I? How did you find this place?"
"You should know. You sent me here Carl! You said we needed to survey this cave and that we might be able to save valuable time due to the enormous mineral deposits you had detected down here."
"What? I don't know what you're talking about?"
"Yes, Carl.you know you sent me in here.you also knew there were no mineral deposits though. You also knew the dangers."
Carl Jr. stepped into an open area. The formations were different in here. He could see where areas had fallen in from time to time, and many passages were blocked, or mostly blocked. He looked around, and heard a closer rumble, and a few rocks fell with the dust in his hair this time. One rock rolled and hit something with a metallic sound across the cave though. He began to walk towards it. He was half way across when he got the crap scared out of him.
"Carl!"
It was his father, speaking in stern but almost quiet words. The young man clasped his hand to his chest and said, "Dad, you almost made me crap my pants! What the heck are you doing here?"
He spoke softly, "Don't say another word. Please, just come with me so we can get out of here."
He was interested in what he though he saw though, and continued forward, "Just a second dad. There is something over here."
His father was frantic now, "NO! Please, come back!" He took a few cautious steps inside, but only a few. He was pleading now. "We need to leave here. I don't know who is doing this, but we need to leave.NOW!"
The communicator spoke again, "What's that matter Carl, are you afraid to come in here? Are you afraid of this cave or are you more afraid of me?"
The father heard the words coming from the communicator and turned white. "No.it can't be.that communicator.but.and that voice.no.no."
The younger Carl bent down and saw that what he had seen was a communicator half buried in sand, and it was just like the one in his hand. He reached out and picked it up, pulling it out of the ground. With it came something else though. It was still in the grip of a skeletal hand. He gave a small bark of surprise as the communicator pulled free and the hand crumbled. Another rock rolled down the pile and landed at his feet.
The communicator he had been holding this whole time came to life once more as it said, "You sent me to my death in here Carl! You knew that when I called you to report, that eventually, my transmission would bring my own death. All over a woman Carl. You killed me!.and now you're going to die the same way!"
The father could hold back no more and shouted, "NO!"
Realizing what he had done, half a second after he had done it, the rumble started above them. With eyes wide, Carl tried to move, but he wasn't going to be fast enough. He felt some rocks hitting his legs and he was falling face first toward the ground. He knew he was about to be buried alive.but he wasn't. He felt his father's grip around his arms and he pulled hard.
Carl Sr. was old and out of shape, but he pulled with everything he had. With tears streaming down his face, he not only pulled, but also threw his son toward the passage. In physics, every action has an equal reaction. As he propelled his son toward the passage, he found himself propelled into the chamber more. A large rock struck him hard above the right temple, and he never felt himself hit the ground.or the tons of rock that crushed his remains.
Carl yelled and screamed for his father, but it was drowned in the roar of the falling debris. After several minutes, it stopped. Carl could not longer even get into the chamber, he had no choice but to go back the way he had come. He would go for help, knowing that it would do no good.
He cried the whole way down the mountain. His pants leg had been ripped by the falling rocks, but he ignored the pain of the minor injury there. He kept trying to use the communicator to call for help, but there was no answer. Finally he arrived home, filthy and tired.
His mother came running out to meet him, "Where is your father? My god, what happened to you?"
He related as much as he could in a few sentences. She ran in and called for the nearest Security Patrol. They responded by sending someone to the house as well as a team to check out the caves.
Carl's mother was in tears on the couch; a female officer was speaking with her about who she could talk to in the morning. As the Security Officer that was talking to Carl was finishing his report, he said, "Well I'm sorry about your dad, kid. You guys should really not have been in those caves though. Your dad knew better."
"I told you!" Carl shouted, he was adamant now, but knew they were never going to believe him. He could see it in their eyes. "I was led up there by someone!"
The man looked at him, "Yes, so you said. Using this communicator right?"
He nodded in exasperation, "YES!"
"Kid, this thing is older than you are."
"And you point is?."
"Well, first of all, these type only had about a one year battery life."
Carl turned sharply to him, "I know what I heard. I was talking to him the whole time. The guy must have been some kind of loon."
The Security Officer sighed and continued to shake his head. "Look kid." He took out his knife and popped the back on the communicator. "See here? This one hasn't been functional for ages. The transceiver coils are all fused. This thing has been nothing but a museum piece for at least ten years or better. These older ones never did last long, and are dangerous around here anyway.especially in those caves. That's why we stopped using them decades ago."
Carl was confused. A million thoughts running through his head at once, "Why is that?"
"Because, every time you transmit with one of these old hunks of junk, they send a frequency surge to link with the old communications computer relays. In those caves it is like an almost silent equivalent to a sonic hand grenade. If it really had worked, you wouldn't have gotten to say a word before the roof came down on you."
Carl could only stare at the pieces of the communicator in his hands now.
The man got up and said to his partner, "I think we're through here. This is going to go down as an accidental death. Call it a hiking accident I guess."
As they left, a breeze blew in through the door. It ruffled the curtain a bit, and even was felt in the kitchen where Carl sat. He never noticed that the breeze caught the edge of the one picture and made it tip off the edge of the counter and face down onto the floor. It said on the back a single line. "Friends to the end."
Carl Hollister loved coming home. He rarely got long breaks from school, but being the holidays, he was glad to have the break from classes and be able to come home to the colony of Dechem Six. He was studying Political Science and hoped to some day get a job working with dignitaries and representatives from various parts of the Federation. He had always been fascinated by other cultures and hoped they could someday find more peaceful ways to share the universe.
His parents had helped to found this colony, and he had felt it every bit the home they tried to make it for him. Dechem Six was one of a series of colonies that had been set up in the system as a huge movement about 25 years ago. It had been just before his parents had married that they were on the original survey mission for this planet, which later brought them together, and they decided to stay. He liked thinking of his parents as young explorers in the galaxy who met each other on a mission that shaped their fates. It was so romantic, and almost perfect, or at least he thought so.
His parents had made a run to the city. They lived on the edge of the populated region, in a beautiful area that was full of green trees, and rolling hills that bordered the mountains to the west of the main settlement here. They had an orchard and some livestock, but traded in the city often. It wasn't far, but it took about a half-hour by hover-car to get there.
Carl had enjoyed the warm morning sun walking through the orchards, but as the sun got high in the sky, he decided he preferred the shade of the indoors for a bit. Strolling through the house, he picked at some of the things his mother collected around the place. More than anything, they collected dust, but they were interesting bits of trivia from days gone by. This took him on a journey down memory lane and he recalled his mother storing some of his childhood things in the attic. He took himself up the stairs to the dusty old attic to laugh at some of his childhood artifacts.
He had gone through a large box that held most of their old sports equipment, laughing at the small discarded items. There was a baseball that had a few extra dimples in it from when he had taught their dog how to fetch. A tennis racket that was so warped it was comical, and he could not imagine why they were saving it. There was even an old pair of anti- gravity skates that he had learned how to use when he was 10, but now only worked intermittently, as the coils were long since past their life-span.
Bored with those items, he began to look around for other long lost treasures. He often thought of these kinds of moments as treasure hunts. No matter how many times he looked through the boxes and trunks, he always found something new and interesting. This time was to be no exception.
Looking about, he spotted a dull metallic shape under some old clothes. Pulling the things aside, he discovered a footlocker of some kind. It had the name Carl Hollister stenciled onto the side. It had been his father's, and Carl junior had been named after him.
Running his hands along the name, he wiped some of the dust from it, and understood that it had not been opened for a very long time. He tried to open it, but it was locked. He thought for a moment, and then tried some numbers. He got it on the third try. He shook his head thinking that his dad really wasn't very bright when it came to such things. Using his birthday of all things as a combination really wasn't a good idea if you wanted to keep someone out.
The hinges creaked as he lifted the lid. The contents had been perfectly preserved over the years. Not a bit of dust had fallen on these items until he had just now opened the case. He saw a couple old PADD's, some uniforms, a couple pictures and a small box. He picked up the pictures and saw some old bar with an ugly Ferengi tending it at a dock or star base of some kind. The other one had a small group of people huddled together smiling. He could make out his mom and dad in the picture, but didn't know whom the others were. He figured they must have been old friends as his mom and dad were on each side of one guy who was laughing while the others looked on.
Switching the pictures to his other hand, he picked up the small box. Upon closer inspection, he realized it wasn't a box, but an old style communicator. He flipped it open with a flick of his hand and heard it chirp.
"Cool!" He said this to himself out loud as he touched various buttons and turned the dials to try and make it do something. He was very pleased when he finally got it to light up and give him some static. He finally thought he had part of it figured out and began playing with it, making it light up in different ways and pretending to talk to people that weren't there.
In a deliberately too deep voice he said, "Captain, there is no intelligent life down here." He then laughed at himself until he heard something different happen with the communicator. It hissed at him.
Carl was surprised at first, thinking he had pressed something, but then as he held it, it did it again. As he was about to close it, he thought he heard a voice mixed with the hiss the third time. He thought to himself, "Holy kreth, I think I can actually hear someone on this ancient hunk of junk!"
"Hello?.Hello, is there anyone there?"
Silence was all he got. He was beginning to think that he had imagined it, but tried once more just to say he had, and then he was going to put it away.
"This is Carl Hollister, is there anyone there? Respond if you can hear me."
Again nothing. He had half closed the lid with his other hand when he heard something come from it that sounded like a hiss, but mixed with garbled words. He lifted it closer to his ear and heard it again, but this time more distinct.
Then came a more clear voice, but one like he had never heard before. It said in a questioning tone simply one word.
"Carl?"
The voice sounded distant and echoed in a muffled sort of way that was hard to describe.
Carl was shocked to not only get a response, but that they had repeated his name. He didn't like how the voice sounded though. It creeped him out a bit. He thought to himself though that the communicator was very old, and likely wasn't very compatible with most modern systems. This old thing couldn't reach too far though, so he figured who ever it was had to be within 1000 kilometers or less, unless they were in space.
"Hello?.I can barely hear you. Who is this?"
Again a long silence and then the voice came back again in that almost echoing manner saying in a rather tired voice, "This is Peter."
Carl thought to himself, and then it came to him. Peter Foster was a guy he had gone to the local high school with and had been a real electronics nut. They had really had some great times, but he had not seen him in years. Wow, what luck them both being home for the holidays, this was going to be great!
"Peter? Wow, imagine you answering this thing. I can't believe it!"
The voice answered more quickly this time, but still sounded very weary and tired with that echoing backdrop. It was almost a watery sound to the voice.
"I've been waiting a very long time for you Carl."
This puzzled Carl. He hadn't let anyone know he was coming back other than his parents.
"You've been waiting for me?"
"Yes Carl. I always knew that someday you would come."
"Where are you?"
"I'm stuck in the mountains, where you left me."
Now Carl was confused again. They had gone into the mountains a few times, but they had always come back together. Well, either way, he must have meant that he was where they use to go in the mountains, and perhaps they could meet there.
"You're there right now?"
"Yes.I want you to come to where I am so I can share something with you."
Carl wasn't sure what to say at first. He wanted to say no, but he couldn't come up with a reason not to. He shook off his feelings on it, and decided he was being silly. It was a beautiful day outside, and he had nothing better to do. It would be wonderful in the mountains right now.
"Alright Peter, but give me a moment. I'll call you back when I'm ready."
There was no answer from the old and beaten piece of history in his hands. He then closed it, and headed down stairs.
He quickly headed down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Grabbing a stylus and digi-pad, he scrawled a note to his parents. He still had the pictures in his left hand as he did so, and placed them on the counter with the communicator as he finished up.
Dear mom & dad, Got a call from Peter Foster and am going to meet him in the mountains for the day. Be back soon, Carl
He then grabbed a couple of apples to snack on while he walked and headed for the door. At the last minute, he stopped, turned around and grabbed the communicator from the counter, then rushed out the door. The pictures remained behind.
Carl's mother and father returned home, the hover-car laden with parcels. They began to carry them into the house, and his mother tried to call for him to help, but he was not there to answer. She discovered the note as she set down the first armload of groceries.
Shaking her head, she said to her husband, "Honey! Carl has gone off to meet with his friend Peter Foster. I guess it is likely to be you and I for dinner."
Carl Sr. came strolling in, carrying two bags in each arm. "Who did you say?"
"Peter Foster."
He shook his head and said, "I don't think so dear. His father and I were talking the other day, and he is on field maneuvers with his unit right now. He isn't likely to be home until perhaps next year this time. What ever gave you the impression he had done such a thing?"
She held up the note in response, and he shook his head again as he read it. His face was becoming puzzled as he tried to make sense of it all, but as he set the note PADD down; his face went blank and appeared to lose all color. His eyes had fallen on the pictures on the counter.
His wife followed his eyes to the pictures and then smiled as she said, "Oh my goodness! I haven't seen these things since forever! Where ever did you find them dear?"
He didn't answer, but instead walked to the house terminal in the kitchen.
"Computer, list all incoming and outgoing calls for today."
The computer responded, [No calls on file for that time period.]
"Honey, what's wrong?"
"Nothing dear, I just think I need to go and see about Carl. I think someone is playing a trick on him. I'll try to hurry back."
"What are you talking about?"
Without answering her, he kissed her quickly and dashed out the door. Mary stood there with her hands on her hips, not believing what was going on. She called after him, "What about dinner?.MEN!"
It was a beautiful day and Carl Jr. was enjoying the fresh mountain air drifting down into the hills. He was just approaching the base of the mountains when he decided to open the communicator again.
"Pete? Are you still there?"
The response was a bit clearer this time, but still had an odd sound to it, "Yes, I'm still here."
"Where are you? I'm at the main pass near my house. Which area are you in?"
"I'm in the caves."
Carl thought that was rather odd. Those caves had always been off limits, as they were known to be unstable and very dangerous. It did explain the odd sound to his voice though. It would sound that way if he was underground, but then it could also be the poor sound quality of this rather beaten up old equipment.
"Why are you in the caves?"
"I told you. I have something I want to share with you."
"The caves are dangerous though. I'm never going to hear the end of it if I go in there."
"Carl, I've waited a long time to share this with you. Please hurry."
The voice sounded almost urgent now. He thought it was clearer than before, but yet he didn't think it sounded right.
Carl sighed and said, "Oh alright, but it is going to take me a few minutes yet. I'll let you know when I'm closer and you can guide me to where you are."
He closed the communicator once again and put it in his back pocket.
He continued to climb until the hills gave way to the more rugged terrain. At that point he turned around and looked at the view. It brought back the flood of memories from his childhood. His parents had always hated him coming up here, his father especially. Carl and his friends would sneak away though. They loved to bring their land surfers up high like this and crank the repelling coils in their boards all the way up so they could clear the small rocks and sticks. He would take a running start and then dive onto his board, flying down the mountain and onto the plains below. He loved how it felt to whip along at such speeds that tears would form streaming back from his eyes from the wind rushing past him. That was his first love affair with flying, and he would always remember it. Some would work their technique of reducing drag in the wind, but he liked to hold his arms up and feel it pulling at him as he defied it and leaned forward into it even more.ah, those were the days.
Pulling himself from memory lane, he returned to his efforts of climbing the trail. Once he reached the fork that lead to the natural caves, he stopped. He could hear his father's voice in his head cautioning him against ever going there. He had always been very adamant that he never go near there. He had only disobeyed once. He had gone with some friends, and on a dare entered one of the caves, but almost didn't live to regret it. One of the caves nearby had given way, crumbling in on itself, and he had come running out to see. It saved his life, as the opening he had been standing in collapsed next. The formations in these mountains were very unstable. There was a high concentration of quartz and pockets of loose sand and the geological activity in these mountains was pretty high. New caves were always forming, but some were more stable than others. There were not enough minerals to warrant attempts at mining in the area, because the risks were just too high.
As he approached the caves, he opened the communicator again. "I'm just outside the caves. Where are you?"
"I'm inside. I've been waiting."
"Well, those things are unstable, you need to come out here so we can talk."
"No, what I want to show you is inside. Look to the far right. There are some older formations. They are more stable and I think they have been here for a very long time."
"I don't know. How far in are you?"
"Not far.hurry."
Unknown to Carl, his father was running up the side of the mountain. He was in a panic. He didn't know why, but he could feel it in his bones.something was very wrong. Why would Carl go to the mountains? He had always warned him about the dangers. Then there was the old picture. He thought he had gotten rid of all those old things years ago. He couldn't get that picture out of his mind. He had been madly in love with his beautiful wife, but she hadn't been his wife then. Back then she was still the woman of his dreams. Unfortunately, she was also the woman of someone else's dreams too.the other man in that picture.Peter Reynolds.
Using his light to see, Carl probed the insides of the cave cautiously. This one was much more stable than any others he had seen. He had just never been in this particular one. Other kids had though, or so it would seem. There were scattered wrappers and the remains of a small fire that was ages old now. It had the feel of some secret party spot that perhaps some of the older kids came to for who knew what purposes. He grinned at the thought and knew that if he had known about this spot back then.well, kids weren't so different after all he guessed. Shaking his head, he spoke again into the communicator. "So, you wanted to share your favorite spot, huh? Pretty cool! Spend lots of time here do you?"
"Yes.I have spent lots of time here."
"So where are you then?"
"Deeper in.keep going."
He panned the light and found the passage and continued to follow it. It narrowed in spots, but wasn't too bad actually. He could hear rumbles from time to time, but they were not close. Once a bit of sand fell into his hair, but nothing dangerous.
Carl's father made it to the fork and saw the footprints heading to the caves. His heart sank as he called out, but got no response. Knowing what he must do, he continued forward, following the footsteps. When he saw the trail lead into the one cave, he fell to his knees. He knew he should have tried to find an excuse to seal it up years ago, but never did. He couldn't bring himself to ever come back up here again.now he was going in.the first time in over two decades.As he moved deeper into the passages, he could hear a voice echoing off the walls.he knew that voice.
Carl Jr. was hearing that same voice now.much clearer than before. It was still sounding with an echo, but he could understand it now. He didn't have to strain to make out the words. What Pete was saying began to make no sense though.none at all.
"Doesn't this bring back memories? Don't you recall these cold walls?"
"Should I? How did you find this place?"
"You should know. You sent me here Carl! You said we needed to survey this cave and that we might be able to save valuable time due to the enormous mineral deposits you had detected down here."
"What? I don't know what you're talking about?"
"Yes, Carl.you know you sent me in here.you also knew there were no mineral deposits though. You also knew the dangers."
Carl Jr. stepped into an open area. The formations were different in here. He could see where areas had fallen in from time to time, and many passages were blocked, or mostly blocked. He looked around, and heard a closer rumble, and a few rocks fell with the dust in his hair this time. One rock rolled and hit something with a metallic sound across the cave though. He began to walk towards it. He was half way across when he got the crap scared out of him.
"Carl!"
It was his father, speaking in stern but almost quiet words. The young man clasped his hand to his chest and said, "Dad, you almost made me crap my pants! What the heck are you doing here?"
He spoke softly, "Don't say another word. Please, just come with me so we can get out of here."
He was interested in what he though he saw though, and continued forward, "Just a second dad. There is something over here."
His father was frantic now, "NO! Please, come back!" He took a few cautious steps inside, but only a few. He was pleading now. "We need to leave here. I don't know who is doing this, but we need to leave.NOW!"
The communicator spoke again, "What's that matter Carl, are you afraid to come in here? Are you afraid of this cave or are you more afraid of me?"
The father heard the words coming from the communicator and turned white. "No.it can't be.that communicator.but.and that voice.no.no."
The younger Carl bent down and saw that what he had seen was a communicator half buried in sand, and it was just like the one in his hand. He reached out and picked it up, pulling it out of the ground. With it came something else though. It was still in the grip of a skeletal hand. He gave a small bark of surprise as the communicator pulled free and the hand crumbled. Another rock rolled down the pile and landed at his feet.
The communicator he had been holding this whole time came to life once more as it said, "You sent me to my death in here Carl! You knew that when I called you to report, that eventually, my transmission would bring my own death. All over a woman Carl. You killed me!.and now you're going to die the same way!"
The father could hold back no more and shouted, "NO!"
Realizing what he had done, half a second after he had done it, the rumble started above them. With eyes wide, Carl tried to move, but he wasn't going to be fast enough. He felt some rocks hitting his legs and he was falling face first toward the ground. He knew he was about to be buried alive.but he wasn't. He felt his father's grip around his arms and he pulled hard.
Carl Sr. was old and out of shape, but he pulled with everything he had. With tears streaming down his face, he not only pulled, but also threw his son toward the passage. In physics, every action has an equal reaction. As he propelled his son toward the passage, he found himself propelled into the chamber more. A large rock struck him hard above the right temple, and he never felt himself hit the ground.or the tons of rock that crushed his remains.
Carl yelled and screamed for his father, but it was drowned in the roar of the falling debris. After several minutes, it stopped. Carl could not longer even get into the chamber, he had no choice but to go back the way he had come. He would go for help, knowing that it would do no good.
He cried the whole way down the mountain. His pants leg had been ripped by the falling rocks, but he ignored the pain of the minor injury there. He kept trying to use the communicator to call for help, but there was no answer. Finally he arrived home, filthy and tired.
His mother came running out to meet him, "Where is your father? My god, what happened to you?"
He related as much as he could in a few sentences. She ran in and called for the nearest Security Patrol. They responded by sending someone to the house as well as a team to check out the caves.
Carl's mother was in tears on the couch; a female officer was speaking with her about who she could talk to in the morning. As the Security Officer that was talking to Carl was finishing his report, he said, "Well I'm sorry about your dad, kid. You guys should really not have been in those caves though. Your dad knew better."
"I told you!" Carl shouted, he was adamant now, but knew they were never going to believe him. He could see it in their eyes. "I was led up there by someone!"
The man looked at him, "Yes, so you said. Using this communicator right?"
He nodded in exasperation, "YES!"
"Kid, this thing is older than you are."
"And you point is?."
"Well, first of all, these type only had about a one year battery life."
Carl turned sharply to him, "I know what I heard. I was talking to him the whole time. The guy must have been some kind of loon."
The Security Officer sighed and continued to shake his head. "Look kid." He took out his knife and popped the back on the communicator. "See here? This one hasn't been functional for ages. The transceiver coils are all fused. This thing has been nothing but a museum piece for at least ten years or better. These older ones never did last long, and are dangerous around here anyway.especially in those caves. That's why we stopped using them decades ago."
Carl was confused. A million thoughts running through his head at once, "Why is that?"
"Because, every time you transmit with one of these old hunks of junk, they send a frequency surge to link with the old communications computer relays. In those caves it is like an almost silent equivalent to a sonic hand grenade. If it really had worked, you wouldn't have gotten to say a word before the roof came down on you."
Carl could only stare at the pieces of the communicator in his hands now.
The man got up and said to his partner, "I think we're through here. This is going to go down as an accidental death. Call it a hiking accident I guess."
As they left, a breeze blew in through the door. It ruffled the curtain a bit, and even was felt in the kitchen where Carl sat. He never noticed that the breeze caught the edge of the one picture and made it tip off the edge of the counter and face down onto the floor. It said on the back a single line. "Friends to the end."