Chapter 9: Homeward Bound

On the Planet Merope

Neal lay on the bottom of the gondola, watching the walls of the cavern whiz past them. He wished he had the strength to sit up for a better view. Peter crouched behind him, gripping his shoulders to prevent him from sliding around.

The meds Phineas had given him kept the pain at bay. From the grim look on Peter's face, he gathered he wasn't in good shape, but it didn't seem very important. Phineas had checked his bandages and he wasn't bleeding. He felt more clearheaded than before. Perhaps he'd grown accustomed to the drug. The gondola padding reminded him of tight foam rubber. In comparison with the stone floor of the cell in H'nir, it felt like a down comforter.

Bats occasionally flew by. Unlike those on Earth, these were gaudy in hues of coral and vermilion. Birds had built their nests on ledges in the walls. He didn't see any adults but there were babies in abundance. Their huge eyes peered out inquisitively at them. Stalactites glimmered in the obscurity of the cavern.

Phineas maintained a steady stream of chatter, telling him what had transpired while he was a prisoner. Peter supplemented the account with his impressions of the rainforest. They kept mentioning his name as if they were trying to include him in the conversation. That was a non-starter. Simply breathing was a laborious effort.

Peter asked about what they'd find on the floor of the cavern. Several times he called out to Neal for his opinion. Once or twice, he thought about answering. He supposed he was being rude and hoped Peter would understand.

"Is the wormhole in the cavern?" Peter asked.

"No, it's unlike any you've previously encountered. It was made by the Celaenians and is a permanent portal."

"Surely not positioned to Earth?"

"Of course not. It requires proper configuration."

Neal zoned out during the explanation. Mozzie should have been here. He would have understood.

"Hey, Neal, it looks like there's a lake below us," Peter said.

"It's actually a river," Phineas explained. "Once we reach it, we'll disengage the gondola. We'll travel by water for the last leg of the journey."

"How long will that last?" Peter asked.

"We must reach the waterfall before twilight. There are oars in the boat. Neal, has Peter ever paddled a canoe?"

Why was Phineas asking him? Peter was right there. His eyes closed as he listened to Peter's answer.

When he awoke, they were no longer in the cavern. Phineas was sitting in the stern, guiding the gondola with an oar, while Peter paddled in the aft position. Phineas had gripped Neal's feet between his ankles to keep them from moving. Peter was wedged between him and the side of the boat.

The river sliced through a steep gorge of forested mountains. Sunlight was fading. They'd said something about the need for speed, but he couldn't remember why . . .

"How much further to the waterfall?" The urgency in Peter's voice roused him from his numbness. Peter's breathing was rapid and labored. He wished he could see him, but he didn't have the strength to turn his head. He should offer to help . . .

When he came to, Phineas was speaking, his words clipped together. Short. Tense. They didn't sound like him. Had something happened? They were paddling with rapid jerks that made the gondola lunge forward in the water. Neal lurched to the side of the boat, crying out when his side came in contact with the craft.

"Neal, are you awake?" Peter asked. "Stay with us. We need you alert."

"Why?" he mumbled. He was already drifting back.

"Ghasts!" Phineas hissed.

"Where?" Neal asked, suddenly fully awake.

"On the riverbank. They're only a short way behind. We're trying to outrace them. Faster, Peter!"

The gondola lurched forward with every stroke of the oars. Phineas was unable to keep Neal's feet pinned and he rolled helplessly from side to side, unable to stop himself.

"Try to hold onto my legs," Peter shouted.

"We have to lose them!" Phineas yelled. "They're gaining on us!" He glanced back at Neal. "If they follow us to the wormhole . . ."

"Is there another route?"

"One. A side tributary. It will be painful, but it's our only shot."

"Do it," Neal mumbled. He couldn't take the beating for much longer. How much worse could it be?

"Dig deep, Peter! One more burst!"

Phineas guided the craft close to the bank. Their speed decreased. Neal was jolted back and forth. His head spun, the urge to heave irresistible. They slammed into a boulder. He heard someone scream. Was that him? It didn't sound like his voice.

With a sudden swerve, Phineas made a sharp right which sent them down some sort of chute. They were crashing along rocky shallows. Surely their boat would be ripped apart. The angle was too steep to do anything but guide it along. A sound of roaring. Rapids?

"Hold on!" Phineas yelled.

Without warning, he was flung high up in the air. Peter cursed and made a lunge for him. Neal crashed hard onto the deck.

. . .

"Neal, can you hear me?"

He really needed to get another name. He was so tired of hearing his own. Muzzily he ran his tongue over the dry powder in his mouth. It had a fragrance he could taste.

He recognized the voices. They belonged to Peter and Phineas. That was enough of an accomplishment. If they'd only stop talking, he could rest. He was lying on ferns. Soft, comfortable. Not in a boat. Not in the rapids.

"He's not reviving. Isn't there anything else you can give him?" Peter's voice sounded oddly desperate. What had gone wrong?

"His injuries are too severe. I'm afraid he's past any help I can provide."

"I thought he'd died in the boat." Peter's voice was rough and jarring.

"We'll have to carry him to the waterfall. Then I'll lash him to you. But if he dies in the wormhole, nothing can help him. It could be safer for you to go back on your own. What happened to Thaddeus may not happen to you."

"No! We go back together or not at all."

That wasn't right. Peter shouldn't sacrifice himself. "Go on, Peter. I'll be fine."

"Neal!" Peter demanded. "Are you awake?"

"Are you sure you heard something?" Phineas asked.

Someone shook his shoulder. "Neal, open your eyes!"

Neal struggled to comply and suddenly it wasn't so difficult. He blinked up at Peter's anxious face.

Peter exhaled sharply. His breath felt cool on his forehead. "That's better. Keep those eyes open."

Phineas probed his right temple. His fingers reminded Neal of popsicles. Refreshingly cold. "The herb's working. It must take longer on humans. Quick, we only have a few minutes." He slid an arm under Neal as Peter supported his other side and hoisted him to his feet.

"Ghasts?" Neal mumbled.

"We lost them," Peter said, "and almost you."

A wall of water lay straight ahead, a distance of a few yards. "Is that the wormhole?" Peter asked.

Phineas nodded. "You need to approach it from behind. You'll have just enough room to squeeze between the rock wall and the waterfall."

"You're coming with us?" Neal asked.

"No, but I'll see you soon."

They half-dragged, half-carried him through the shallow water. He'd lost all feeling in his legs. He could have so easily drifted off again but they wouldn't let him.

When they were behind the waterfall, Phineas took Neal's full weight and directed Peter to stand facing the rock wall. Despite his drowsiness, Neal was too curious to close his eyes. Phineas slowly guided him to cling to Peter's back. He felt like a polar bear flopped onto an iceberg.

"So now you're the polar bear," Peter murmured.

Could Peter read his thoughts or had he spoken them? The heat radiating off him would soon melt his iceberg into a puddle.

"Hold on for just a little longer. I'm not gonna melt." Peter bent his knees and used his hand to guide Neal's head till it rested on his shoulder.

He looked through half-closed eyes at Phineas who was extracting a thin rope from his knapsack. He used it to tie him to Peter.

Phineas tapped his cheek. "Neal, listen to me. You must stay awake. Hold onto Peter as best you can." He guided Neal's hands in front of Peter and tied them together. Peter grabbed onto them with a reassuring grip.

Phineas then took a small antique device out of his pocket and twirled some of the dials.

"When you step toward the water, the wormhole will find you. Till our next meeting!"

Phineas half-supported Neal as Peter slowly rotated his position to face the waterfall. Gripping Neal's hands, he stepped cautiously forward.

The water drenched him, quenching his fire. The spray was so hard it was difficult to keep his eyes open. With a whoosh, their surroundings dissolved into dazzling colors.

#

El wasn't scheduled to work on Saturday afternoon, but she went into the medical center anyway. Waiting at home wasn't helping anyone. In hindsight, that might have been a mistake as Vijay was there too. Every time she looked at him, the image of Lavinia transforming into her assistant flashed in front of her eyes. El found herself staring at him to see if he would change back to Lavinia.

She'd invited everyone to her house that evening for dinner. June insisted on bringing the food, claiming she needed to have something to do. She'd made two of Neal's favorite dishes—shrimp Creole and brandy Alexander pie—as well as stuffed mushrooms and marinated vegetables. It was a feast designed for twice as many people as the number gathered around her dining room table, making Peter and Neal's absence all the more noticeable.

It was a quiet meal. Mozzie tried to boost their spirits by making up stories about the friendly aliens Peter and Neal were encountering, but she was too distracted to pay him much heed.

Diana called a few times, apparently with the sole purpose of checking up on them. The last time had been at eight o'clock. Everyone was in a holding pattern. El had brought home sleeping pills for the group but doubted anyone would take them. It would be another long night of waiting.

After helping to clean up the kitchen, Mozzie and Sara left to take Satchmo on a walk. El made tea for herself and June.

The phone rang when El was carrying the mugs into the living room. The hot liquid sloshed onto her hands as she froze in place. June jumped up to take the mugs from her.

"It's probably just Diana checking on us," El said, steeling herself for yet another disappointment.

"Hello?" She hoped the tremble in her voice wasn't noticeable on the phone.

Diana's triumphant voice blasted all those thoughts aside. "We found them!"

Tears started to run down El's cheeks as she gave an ecstatic thumbs-up to June.

"How are they?" June demanded as soon as Diana rang off.

"Both are unconscious. There are bloodstains on their clothes but no apparent injuries. Diana believes they may have been drugged. A patrol car found them on Whittier Street off Trinity Avenue. They'd been lashed together. She suspects members of the Starry Wisdom cult abducted them as retribution. They were taken to the medical center."

June dumped out the tea in the kitchen. Luckily Sara and Mozzie returned before they were ready to leave. El took the time to make one brief call to Lavinia before heading for the hospital. When Lavinia announced she'd meet them there, El had mixed feelings. Yes, Lavinia was probably better equipped than anyone else to diagnose their condition. But for a medical professional to have to admit that a space alien was more qualified was a bitter pill to swallow.

#

Three hectic hours later, El was once more in waiting mode with one huge difference. This time Peter was beside her. After the preliminary tests were concluded, she'd had him moved to a private room. Neal was in another room at the end of the hall, the closest one available. Both remained unconscious.

Initially, she'd planned to simplify monitoring her patients by placing them in the same room. But she'd reconsidered. It was likely they wouldn't revive at the same time. The sight of the other lying unconscious and hooked up to tubes would increase the inevitable stress the patient would already be experiencing.

June and Mozzie were keeping a vigil at Neal's bedside. Sara's nerves had kicked her energy level into overdrive. She was in constant motion between the two rooms. She'd already supplied drinks, snacks, and magazines—not that anyone felt like reading. She'd stop long enough to offer a few words of encouragement before bouncing up to check on the other patient.

Diana went home after meeting them in the hospital. El didn't attempt to dissuade her from her theory of cult retaliation. It was much more palatable than saying they'd been abducted to an alien planet.

Lavinia had consulted with her in the emergency ward. After jabbing her fingers against Peter's left temple, she assured her he would wake up in a few hours.

Neal was more problematic. Lavinia claimed the high levels of algolnium within his system prevented her from accessing his mind. When El questioned her about the whereabouts of Phineas, she said he hadn't returned and she didn't expect him for a couple of days. As to where he was or what he was doing, Lavinia refused to answer. She left after ordering El to keep her informed.

She'd run all the scans and tests she could think of. She'd ordered exhaustive blood work for both of them. She could find anything physically wrong with either of them aside from being unconscious. Their blood-stained clothes were a puzzle. The bloodstains matched their blood types and both men had been bandaged. Peter had one over his right rib cage. Neal had two large pressure packs on his left side and his head had been wrapped in gauze. Neither of them had any trace of a wound. El was forced to conclude that once more they'd been miraculously healed by their journey through the wormhole.

Mozzie argued that this was confirmation of his theory that a ghost image remained behind when they entered a wormhole, but she remained skeptical. And she wasn't convinced they were uninjured. Thaddeus had displayed similar readings and never regained consciousness.

A mumble roused her from her musings. Peter was stirring.

She took his hand. "Peter, can you hear me?"

His eyes blinked open. "El? Is that really you?" His hand reached up to touch her face.

She leaned forward to kiss him, her eyes blurring with tears. "You're not dreaming. You're back in Arkham." She gave him the brightest smile she could summon. "And don't you ever run off to another planet without me."

He gave her a startled look, as he propped himself up on one elbow. "You know? Did Lavinia tell you?"

She nodded, elevating the bed to make him more comfortable. "She met with us yesterday morning."

His expression suddenly turned anxious. "Neal! Did he make it back too?"

She sat down on the bed next to him. "You were found on Whittier Street. Neal's still unconscious. You just awoke. I'm confident he'll soon revive." More of a wish than a belief but this wasn't the time for complete honesty.

"He was badly injured on Merope, the planet we were on. Internal bleeding, puncture wounds."

"Not now," she quickly assured him. "Like you, he doesn't have any physical symptoms. We were able to tell from the bandages and the condition of your clothes that both of you had been injured, but there's no trace of anything now."

He relaxed and settled back on the pillows. "What day is it?"

"Early Sunday morning." By now, Peter was fully awake so she didn't try to get him to sleep. They were exchanging details of what each had experienced when Sara arrived. Ecstatic to see Peter awake, she raced off to tell June and Mozzie. Neal was still unconscious, but everyone took Peter's case as an omen it wouldn't be much longer before he too would return to them.