Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible™ or any character, location or event from that said show.
Last time on Legend of A Monkey Master
- Joe admonished Team Possible for walking into a mission blind.
- Renowned Lord Monty Fiske invites Kim to explore ancient ruins.
- Ron has concerns he fears must bring up with Kim
- Junior and W.E., with the help of a mysterious ally, assault the Yamanouchi Ninja School. However, they fail to recover the item they search for.
...
Ch 4: Monkey Mysteries
"Welcome to Laos, Miss Possible; Master Stoppable. May I...?"
"Please and thank you," Kim passed over her luggage which Bates placed in the rear of an aged, yet sturdy, 4x4 Landover. Ron struggled behind Kim with his own luggage having packed far more than Kim advised necessary. Mr Bates gladly and effortlessly took the weight out of the boy's hands, setting it comfortably beside Kim's belongings. "You are currently in the capital, Vientiane. We have quite a drive ahead of us if we wish to report in at base camp today. Lord Fiske regrets being unable to greet you in person after your exhausting flight. It took a great deal of convincing before he acquiesced to allowing me to make the journey alone. The expedition does demand his attention at this time."
While his big words made Ron shiver, Bates was pleasant enough in tone and expression. He seemed an odd character, likely to stick out in a crowd and not just for his 19th century safari gear. He was tall and rather lankly in appearance. His manner was jovial and subservient. Attentive to every need, even trying his hand at creating an oriental Naco when the trio stopped for lunch. Cooking over a hot engine in response to Ron's order. Ron had to admit the result wasn't half bad given the water buffalo cheese, fried yams and rice bread that went into its creation.
Kim shook her head.
Along unpaved roads and through timeless settlements they travelled, occasionally sharing the road with water buffalo being herded to market or a man bicycling between villages. A steam powered barge sailed a mighty mountain water river as they passed across a colonial era bridge.
During the early evening they arrived in a village of tents. Populated by unkempt professors sporting scruffy beards; crumbs from their morning scroggin caught in their whiskers. Rowdy, eager anthropology students working for extra credit. Serious about impressing their professors and not much else. Laotian pilots slouched next to their machines, enjoying the evening sun. They tinkered with engines; joked, laughed, tried the ignition again.
As Mr Bates pulled up, helpful scientists and students ringed the jeep, eager to meet the famous teens and carry favour by carrying gear to the teens assigned tents. Congratulations for thwarting that rascal, Drakken; proud statements of having met one of the renowned Dr's Possible during a conference in Munich/New York/Brussels (or expressing a desire to meet the idolised pair), cheers for having the celebrity world saving pair accompany this groundbreaking expedition; Mr Bates was hard pressed to shoo them all back to their duties. Lord Fiske's manservant suggested the pair try to put this acclaim to one side and get an early night. The next day would be a long one. However, before sleeping off the days travel, Bates did encourage Kim to meet her benefactor. He was operating from a specially equipped communications trailer. The only non-fabric structure at base camp.
"…. have them set out GPS markers around the site, Ah, ah," Lord Fiske sighted the new arrivals entering his trailer. He put down a map to warmly greet them and shake their hands. "Miss Possible! Mr Stoppable!"
"Kim and Ron, Lord Fiske. You make us sound like royalty," which her blush suggested wasn't entirely disappointing.
"Fair is fair. You shall call me Monty and I shall call you Kim and your friend here Ron. And - Mr Bates…?"
"Darling, if it pleases you, sir."
"Yes…, ?!" Fiske caught himself before addressing his manservant as 'Darling'. Mr Bates remained deadpan. He would never reveal if it twas a jest at his master's expense.
"Right. Allow me to bring you up to speed.
"Our advance team have prospected the site and found it promising indeed. This is Haley by the way, co-ordinating events from our C.P: command post. She's one of my students; one of my most promising."
Haley was conversing sternly into a headset, although she did acknowledge the teens with a friendly wink. A mole on her lower right cheek, next to her lush, coloured red with lipstick, lips, spotted her otherwise flawless pale complexion. Accentuated by her soft length of blond hair flowing down from a pigtail over her shoulder, helped foster an aura girlish playfulness and charm. Kim knew immediately there was more here than a girly girl. There was something in the way she held herself. Haley was more than a sweet voice and a cute smile.
Fiske squeezed Kim's shoulder. "I think you'll find Haley and you share common interests. Beware, she loves to pick fights."
Holding a hand over the mike, Haley responded sweetly, "Honestly Monty, you make me sound like a war-monger."
Monty chortled at their private joke. Oblivious, Ron added a half-hearted chorus of chuckles.
"So, tomorrow - supplies, equipment and, of course, ourselves, will be airlifted to a small clearing; I hope you enjoy living dangerously as we'll be repelling down." The lights in Kim's eyes beamed. Ron's dimmed a little.
"An advance expedition team discovered promising ruins three days ago. May be our lost city, hmm? They've been making preparation for our arrival so, for the most part, all we'll need to do is - dig. No digger or bulldozer. It'll be shovels and brushes and even toothbrushes for us! I hope you two have strong backs because the toothbrush especially will test you. Believe me."
Not a problem for Kim Possible. "Don't worry. I brush twice a day as part of my junior archaeologist training. Floss too."
"She must be the only one in the world who does," Ron muttered.
"Quite," Fiske agreed, amused. His eyes sparked with mischievous excitement. "Look," he spoke in a hushed tone, "I want to introduce you to the prize. The discovery of a lifetime which will cement our names, all our names, in the annuals of history!"
He waved them to a small, closed office to the trailers rear. Mr Bates removed a briefcase from the highest shelf and placed it on the table. He unlatched the twin locks and stepped back to make room. Monty ran a hand over the briefcase though did not open it. Not yet.
"Only my most trusted friends know of my secret objective. Mr Bates and young Haley alone in this trailer for a start. Other senior members of this expedition, most of whom either dismiss this items existence out of hand or maintain a healthy dose of scepticism. A vital trait for an archaeological mind, although - a killjoy to the experience. I personally have never dug for an item I did not believe wholeheartedly existed. You two have a reputation as being beyond reproach so I want you to be my first independent witnesses when this discovery of a lifetime is made."
"Not a professional?" Kim queried.
"The problem with professionals is most believe me to be bonkers. I have a few previously mentioned sceptics joining our wild goose chase to validate any find, though no big names. What I desire is an open mind. A mind which still believes anything is Possible."
"Think I can handle that. Nice to know I'm not a publicity stunt."
"Perish the thought! Mind you, I'll not complain about the rush of public interest your presence has caused. Nor the donations."
"Your welcome."
Fiske shared an amused, knowing smile with Kim. Ron barely registered the conversation as this cynical, in the know joke had passed between them. He did not note how much fun the British Lord appeared to be having. His only interest since their entry into the office was the briefcase. His entire focus was upon it. During the exchange he had been subtly, and unconsciously, edging toward it. Leaning forward until his eyes were level with the table.
What was the secret Monty hoped to discover deep in the perilous jungle? Pirate treasure? Alien technology? A mystical fountain? Video games would suggest so. He had to touch the briefcase. Had to T it! An outstretched finger already was slowly arching, over arm, toward the case without his self being aware of it.
Mr Bates placed a plate of cookies down next to the briefcase. "Chocolate Biscuit, Master Stoppable?"
"Huh - Ah, yes."
Ron took a chocolate toffee biscuit and reversed into a seat Mr Bates shuffled beneath his behind beforehand.
Lord Fiske rested a hand on the briefcase. "Kim Possible, Ronald Stoppable. Allow me to present - the Idol of Yono."
He carefully pulled back the top to reveal the documents inside. Ron was almost struck down by aneurysm on the spot. Photos, endless photos – of monkey.
Not a real monkey. An idol. A stone statue. Or inscriptions carved within tombs. Upon artefacts. Language.
But all of monkey.
Suffocating, needing air, Ron left the room and the trailer.
...
"Bad road, bad road, bad road, bad road, bad road, bad road, bad road!"
"Whoa, hey, hey! What?"
"Joe said, 'never stop telling Kim it's a bad road!' Bad road, bad road, bad road, bad road!"
"Over-literal, much? When Joe said, 'never stop,' he didn't mean never stop!"
"… bad road, bad road….
"Stop!"
Ron did not stop per see. He continued to mouth the mantra.
"Ron, you're freaking out over nothing. We'll only be excavating a lost city in the mountainous jungle of South East Asia searching for a lost monkey statue. – what could possibly go wrong? Don't say monkeys."
Ron hesitated and grumbled. That was precisely what he was going to say.
"Oh yeah! Well - we can be attacked by giant squid!"
"No Ron. We can't."
Ron sighed, leaning back on the picnic table he had fled to, to breathe. It was placed near the bonfire pit where everyone loved to roast Fiske's generous supply of marshmallows, a popular spot in the camp. Fortunatly most of the camp was enjoying an evening meal in the mess tent so Team Possible was left to their dicussion in relative peace.
"Kim, listen to me. Monkeys are eeevil. Fiske wants to travel into monkey land. To dig up a haunted city. That worshipped monkeys. Probably eeevil monkeys. What part of this plan does not spell bad road to you?" He outlined his logic without hysterics. Without any hint of pleading. He simply stated facts the universe knew to be true.
"How about, your automatic assumption all monkeys are evil? The part where Lord Fiske is a generous man who would never let anything happen to us?"
Kim flopped down beside him on the table, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes.
"We don't have to dig up a monkey idol. Fiske doesn't even know if it exits. He admits most people think he's crazy!"
"I think that's comforting...?"
"There's an entire city to explore. We don't have to go anywhere near any monkey idol. If they find it. Which will probably take years, we're only signed on six weeks maximum.
"I promise you. The moment Fiske finds his garden gnome, or bad road finds us, we are gone."
Ron considered her promise, half-heartedly debating in his mind if such a promise would be enough to calm his fears. The outcome was never in doubt. Kim wanted this. He would stand by Kim.
He did have one question left, however….
"What else don't we know about this expedition?"
It took a nano-second for Kim to click to what he was saying.
"I think I should give Wade a call."
...
Night reigned yet the mountain still teemed with life. Unsightly, furry creatures stirred and exited their lairs. Hungry, they lined up for porridge with a side choice of milo, coffee or tea; tea being the correct answer. After feasting hastily, least another creature pilfer his or her meal, the creatures set to work. Packing, loading, triple checking equipment; in their half woken states they dreamed of extra credit rewards from their masters.
Chagrin to wake up so early, Ron unceremoniously packed for the days ahead. Gameboy & Zombie-Palooza cartridge, cans of nacho mix with accompanying electric can opener, tiger scent (guaranteed to repel monkeys); and several pairs of Team Possible mission clothes. Rufus also packed – Ron's pants pocket. Nuts and berries for the journey, handkerchief blankets and complementary packets of soap, shampoo, toothpaste and sunscreen he swiped from a hotel in Europe.
Kim, having packed the previous night, joined some of Fiske's younger team members in the mess hall, trading (censored) anecdotes of University life and tales of the cheer horror that is Bonnie Rockwaller. Taking photos for the facebook album.
Three hueys spun up their engines at first light.
Team Possible was ready. They approached the lead chopper with their heads lowed, Kim pressing a baseball cap with the Oxford logo to her head, battling the buffeting blow the blades stirred up. Ron carried with him a square shaped appliance under his arm.
Fiske, ever with loyal Bates at his side, delayed himself, waiting on the edge of landing pad. Wanting to guide Team Possible the last few metres under the rotor personally. Yes, each had travelled on a helicopter before yet he still felt responsible for their safety.
He had to yell for the roar of three choppers. "Heads down, move single file and don't hesitate when you reach the…. What the bloody hell…? Is this an electric deep fryer?"
"I'm not stupid. I have a battery pack."
"He's really an excellent cook," Kim admitted. Her nervous smile did not reflect how silly she felt inside. She did not agree with Ron, that the deep fryer would be vital in the jungle. Neither did she want to cut him in front of their benefactor. So she smiled.
Fiske right eyebrow raised as his left eye squinted. A confused look destined not to be the last.
"Perhaps young Master Stoppable can aid myself in kitchen duties," Bates offered diplomatically. "Milord knows faithful Bates cannot tell saucepan from fry. Beside, it would be an excellent opportunity to fill a shameful gap in my repertoire – American cuisine."
...
The further they flew from the ancient cities the less people they saw and the less cultivated the land became. Soon they were beholden to the breathtaking majesty of the mountains. An endless forest canopy steadfastly refusing to peel back and reveal the environment below to the light of day. Concealing innumerable birds, innumerable in both numbers and species. They would spring forth before the roar of the choppers, escorting them as a Dolphin may escort a boat. Rivers of water plunging off cliffs, sparkling in the dawn light before submitting to gravity to crash down below.
Lord Fiske, via the helicopters com-system, outlined the operations on the ground, as well as to the day's activities. His voice came through the headphones highly synthesised. Very monotone.
"Advance team set up dig site in area we believe to be city centre. This is where grandest and, hopefully, most well preserved building shall be found. The landing we are approaching is beyond our estimated boundary of the city. Bad form to have buried structure collapse under our weight. Believe me when I say we want to avoid that - at all cost. Buried alive isn't fun as David Copperfield makes it look."
Fiske removed a cell phone sized device from his left chest pocket, demonstrating it to those onboard. Mr Bates opened a case and passed like devices around.
"Once we have larger numbers on ground we can blow out bigger landing, and highway between such and dig site. For now, we make do with the partially cleared trail. We'll be moving through a heavily forested area so stay together. Also, have your GPS devices on your person at all times. The path, landing, dig site are all marked by beacon. Each device is a beacon. We can find our way, each other and you if you have this device."
Ron strapped his GPS to Rufus. It was almost her size. She lifted her head, testing the weight. ("Uh, this is going to be a crick in the neck. Does this thing at least link to MySpace?")
Kim nudged him. "RON!"
"But what if Rufus gets lost?"
"What if you get lost?!"
"I'll be with Rufus."
Fiske raised his eyebrow.
"Take this Master Stoppable." Mr Bates offered a smaller beacon in the shape of a ring ring. "We tie these to air dropped supplies."
Ron gratefully accepted the small beacon and slipped on his finger, satisfied.
("No Ron, no. Put the ring on me!")
"Oh, right!"
...
It would have been easy to miss the small clearing in the ocean of green. It had been created by felling a crop of smaller trees. The site was chosen carefully, a good distance from the giants of the forest which posed a threat to the descending choppers.
The trio of hueys hovered above the uneven ground. They would not be able to touch ground until the clearing was expanded and the land underneath cleared of logs and stumps. Mr Bates threw a rope out the left side. A crewman out the right.
Lord Fiske repelled down first after reluctantly allowing Mr Bates to quadruple check his harness. Kim helped Ron secure his own. She took Rufus from his pocket and placed her in the harness pouch. "Look after him."
("Don't I always?")
Kim did not understand the Mole's Rats language, but she was beginning to understand the Mole Rat. Her reply reassured.
"Can you pass me my mouth guard? Front pocket."
Kim reached into his backpack, producing the mouth guard and popping it in Ron's mouth.
"Anks! Eye almo-th bet mi Thounge aff ast ime"
"I'm right behind you."
"Oh ig," Ron gave her a thumbs up. And he stepped out into thin air.
...
The hueys returned to CP after dropping their cargo of passengers and supplies. Lord Fiske advised the small party to stack non-essential supplies on the edge of the clearing to make room for the next drop. Food, shelter and other select items would be shared out among the party
"I don't care what your degree is. Today you're a mule."
Fiske added a fair amount of weight to his own pack. Mr Bates naturally protested, citing he could easily carry milord's share on top of his own. As the patron of the expedition he was not expected to, nor was not his place to overburden himself. Never did Bates mention Lord Fiske's crippled right leg although Team Possible, the expeditionary members and Lord and Servant understood the subtext. None of them would have begrudged Fiske relieving himself of burden. Yet the stubborn man would have none of it.
"I understand my limitations. I take nothing more than I can handle. You, however, are welcome to double your load if you so desire, Mr Bates."
He stood. His body swayed under the extra weight as he relied, far too heavily, on his crutch to keep his balance. But Fiske did not fall. Instead he found his centre, shifting weight to his good leg. Standing tall.
"What is that?"
("Phew! Oh man, I do not think I like that.")
Kim referred to Ron happily sprinkling a tonic over his clothing. One, she noted, which agitated Rufus and caused her to burrow deeper into his pocket. Ron cryptically replied, "Monkey repellent, he-he-he-he."
Before further questioning could be applied, Fiske approached the pair. "And how are my intrepid explorers? In good spirits?"
"Absolutely, positively smashing, dear Monty," Ron confirmed ahead of Kim, talking in his approximation of a British accent. Sean Connery being his primary influence. "Today shall be a historic day."
Fiske raised his eyebrow.
"Ron just means he's excited. He loves to imitate Bond when we're on a mission."
"Very well," Fiske presented a confused smirk, which turned genuine as his mind turned to other matters. "Come intrepid explorers. Adventure awaits. Talley Ho!"
Leaning on his cane, Lord Fiske set out for the journey of a lifetime. Searching the South East Asian jungle for a mythical city, defying the learned opinions of armchair archaeologists, braving the wild to advance…. He took three steps in the direction of the ruined city before he slowed to a stop.
Uncertain, Kim asked, "What is it?"
"I…, I swear I can smell – wet tiger."
Kim glared venomously at Ron. Rufus jumped ship over to Kim. "(Fuck that. I didn't sign up to be a cat snack.")
Further down the line a pair pulled rifles out of their packs. Ron, initially proud of his cunning, withered and felt small.
...
The group moved cautiously along the rough jungle trail, with an armed expeditionary taking up the point and rear. Fiske, as the groups' weakest member, was in the centre with Mr Bates. Kim and Ron just ahead so he might sight them at all times. Kim subtly sprayed Ron down with deodorant. Enough to fool Lord Fiske's nose. Tellingly, however, Rufus stayed with Kim. In the distant, dark jungle a troop of animals screeched.
Every muscle in Ron's body tensed. Cramped so bad he could be said to be in rigor mortis. Colour drained from his face and his eyes. Perfect terror was his.
Mercifully, Fiske raised a fist, calling a halt to the expedition. Giving Kim time to steel Ron's nerves before his oddness drew attention. Fiske peered into the dense foliage. "The monkeys scream. Bloody hell, the blasted tiger must still be near by.
"Everyone make a load noise. Shake a tree, clap your hands, bang pots together; see if we might scare the bugger off."
Kim took Ron's shoulder and squeezed it. "Ron? Ron?!"
"Bwah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah...!"
"Good show, Master Stoppable," Mr Bates complemented. "That's the spirit!"
The expedition followed Ron's lead. Fiske banged his cane against a tree trunk. Kim's yelling and clapping were directed primarily toward Ron, attmpting regain his focus. The pair with rifles fired a warning shot apiece into the tree tops while Mr Bates casually removed a MP3 device from around the neck of a fellow explorer. Scanning the music list and removing the headphones, he encouraged the others to sing along, off key, to Bad Romance by Lady Gaga.
"Absolutely ghastly, milord," Bates remarked aside, fingers plugged into his ears as the party sung the morale boosting song. "Abhorred what the youth of today consider music. If this does not strike the fear of God into that tiger I do not know what will."
"Too right, Mr Bates."
...
Fiske called for a rest stop fifteen minutes further up the trail, a chance to rest and enjoy morning tea. He produced a loaf of bread and a gas torch. "We're having toast. Who wants theirs well done?"
A chorus of cheers suggested everyone.
Ron removed his collection of snackage from his pack. Rufus tentatively joined him in devouring his treasure trove and Kim shared with Ron a hot cup of the tea the Brits proudly poured for her from a thermos. She was relieved when Ron took it, even remembering to thank her. She could feel in his shoulder the tension was abating. Colour had returned to his cheeks, now rosy red. He admitted he felt embarrassed more than anything.
Before Kim could ask him to open up Lord Fiske called over, "Kimberly? A word?"
Kim nodded to Fiske and made a whisper in Ron's ear. "I'll be right here Ron."
"That tiger scare – got to your friend," Fiske said. It was not a question.
"No – not exactly." Scratching her neck uncomfortably was a dead giveaway Kim was holding back.
"It's alright. Tiger scare - everyone was quaking in their boots. You know Kim; I know a little thing or two about – the jungle. How people cope in it. I would like to talk to Ron. If you let me."
"It wasn't a tiger." Kim sheepishly looked around to judge who was within ear shot. The last thing she wanted to do was betray Ron's confidence ever again. Not so long ago she had almost cut their bonds by doing so to her cheer squad peers. But Fiske had a right to know if it impacted on his expedition. In a hushed, hushed tone she admitted to his confidence Ron's great phobia. "He has a pathological - fear - of monkeys."
"Really?!" Fiske did not mock. He was astonished. "Oh dear. Oh dear, you didn't know about the idol beforehand, did you?"
Kim nodded.
"I think I have to talk to him now."
Fiske asked Mr Bates if he would canvass the party and make sure everyone was in good cheer. He hobbled over to where Team Possible had set down their backpacks, crutched down with them and lay his cane over his crossed knees.
"You have a set of lungs to be proud of, lad. Every jungle creature must have quivered in primordial fear.
"Your friend gave me a hint to your troubles. Please, please don't be upset with her. I needed to know. And now I need to hear the whole story from you, if I am to help you."
Ron allowed an unsure snigger when Fiske talked about his lungs but he didn't want to discuss his lame insecurity. He hesitated, and when he hesitated Fiske made a startling admission of his own.
"It's the screech, isn't it? It's the screech that chills you. And the way they watch your every move from the branch tops. I don't like monkeys."
"You don't?" Kim and Ron asked, the latter confused and the former shocked. Not enough to forget to add, "Jinx by the way. You owe me a soda," yet shocked nonetheless. Since their combined youth, Kim held the assumption Ron Stoppable was the only boy on the planet with a phobia of monkeys. Or, at least the only little boy with a phobia of monkeys she was likely to ever meet.
"Yes. I was confined with a monkey, of a sort, for more time than I want to even consider. It was not pleasant experience."
"You're not making fun? For real-ses?"
Fiske kindly smiled. He understood. "For real-ses, Ron. I'll tell you my tale if you tell me yours?"
His was not an experience he wanted to repeat to anyone. However, Ron sucked in his gut and complied. "It was at Camp. Camp Wannaweep."
" Inauspicious name."
"My nickname. Camp Gottagrin."
"That may be worse."
"The camp mascot was a trained chimpanzee. Bobo."
...
Camp Gottagrin
5 Yrs Ago
11 years of age, Ron Stoppable pounds and kicks the cabin door; screams for help while he does so. He pleads to be let out. Ron's fellow Gottagrin campers mercilessly hold the door closed. They incessantly jeer and hoot. They had discovered a fantastic new game.
"You wanted to see him closer," one of the larger boys yelled through the keyhole.
Trapped with the boy and agitated by his screaming, Bobo the chimpanzee screeches. A terrible high pitched shriek made all the louder by the small cabins shallow acoustics. Ron continues to scream unabated. Each of them shrieks with renewed intensity to answer the other. Frustrated, Bobo begins to throw items around the room.
…
Bobo and his trainer eat apart from the campers although in the same mess hall. Bobo spots Ron as he enters. He climbs into the rafters carrying his meal and, shrieking once again, precedes to throw pieces of it at the boy. Ron flips his tray over, allowing his dinner to spill clear on the floor so that he might use the tray as a shield from berries and sliced Banana pieces.
The laughter is uproarious.
Bobo's trainer takes the tray. He grips the boys forearm and yells at Stoppable, "What have you done to my chimp, boy?"
…
The last day of camp and, with Ron's parents at his side and Bobo's trainer at his, the two attempt reconciliation.
Within the crowd of witnesses, one onlooker has a wicked idea. A BB-gun slips from her pocket.
In a short space of time after Ron and Bobo tentatively shook hands, Bobo bares his teeth and attacks. Ron only asked, "Why?"
...
"Good Lord!"
("Oh, no. And you love animals! I'm sorry Ron, I never knew.")
Ron picked up Rufus who cooed sympathetically at his feet, holding her for comfort. "I never knew why that monkey hated me. His trainer maintained it must have been my fault. He never forgave me after animal control took Bobo away."
"It sounds like maybe Bobo was frightened of you too," Fiske solemnly stated. "Neither of you had a chance."
Deep in the jungle, three explorers silently contemplated the fate of Bobo, the Camp Gottagrin mascot.
"Well. You told me your story, lad. If you did your homework, you know my leg was damaged excavating a monastery in the Urals, beyond the Arctic Circle. Middle of Summer and it was cold enough to make snowmen pack up and head for the tropics. When the wind howled through the valley it could cause hypothermia in minutes. We all thought the owner must have been daft to want to live there. Maybe we were daft for digging there."
"We," Fiske thought back for a moment, "gained access to the lower levels of the Cathedral. Tunnels – the catacombs excavated deep into the earth like it was NORAD. All of us knew we had something big. I mean, big. Still, we made our way carefully. Took our time. Shore up every support as we moved lower.
"We discovered the secret of the monastery. A grand chamber on the lower-mid level, with – magnificent wood carvings decorating the walls, depicting a great battle or battles. Only, we realised, they were battles that took place in Asia. Featuring prominently in each was a warrior, the same warrior in every battle. Sometimes he was outfitted as a Japanese Samurai. Sometimes he was a Buddhist Warrior Monk. He was a Knight. He was a Jihadist. He was a Pirate. He fought the Mongolian Empire on every front. Mastered every weapon ever forged. Fought every kind of warfare."
The history of the Mongolian Empire may have been lost on Kim and Ron, though Fiske's story and the care he took to tell it captivated them. Kim, with greater awareness of geography, was astonished at the scope of this, the First World War. Ron's mind wondered, picturing himself as a Pirate on the high seas or a noble Samurai, or Knight! Or all of them! The day dreams of a great deal of young men.
"In the centre of the chamber on a pedestal - the most unlikely of artefacts - the Idol of Yono. The photos I showed you yesterday. We studied how it was placed, took photos and made observations. Then, we carefully removed the idol for further study."
"We didn't know an avalanche had occurred on the other side of the mountain. Just that the supports began to shake and give way while we were still in the upper levels of the catacombs. I was in the rear. A support gave way in front of me, trapping my leg and cutting me off from my friends.
"I used to believe nothing could ever frighten me. I lived dangerously, having, I think, more than a few personality traits in common with young Kimberly here.
"Yet, no matter how brave you think you are, perpetual darkness is perpetual. I spent thirteen days trapped alone in the darkness. Dehydrated. Losing blood. Near death. Alone in the darkness – alone with a bloody creepy monkey idol! I tell you both, I lost it. I thought the idol whispering to me! And when they found me, I wasn't the same again.
"Of course, I keep this on the 'down low," Fiske halted a second, checking to see if he had the slang context correct. "When I see a monkey, I think of that Idol and I go cold like on that mountain."
"So why do you want to find another one?"
Kim spoke softly. Fiske's tale had drawn them both in deep so that she feared talking any louder would break the spell.
"Curiosity. I ran away from the mystery for years. But still it haunted me. So I meant to turn the tables on my fear and learn all of the idol's darkest secrets."
Fiske ended his tale, forestalling further questions by calling out to the gathered explorers, "Hop-hop! Naptime's over. Do hope I didn't mislead you to believe this was a relaxing summer outing. They'll be no stops for bird-watching until we reach the dig camp. I mean you Robert," Fiske pointed to one of the younger members of the expedition.
"Not my kind of birds, Monty."
"I know exactly what kind of birds you like to watch."
"How do you deal with it? You did all those nature shows?"
Fiske considered his answer while he climbed to his feet. Steadying himself by leaning on his cane he finally said, "I don't know exactly, Ron. I take a deep breath and I bury my fear deep down and generally operate on a sort of autopilot. Thinking removed from the equation. Not the best coping method ever devised, but – there you have it. I guess we, sometimes, have to set aside fear to - do what we have to."
...
Mr Bates helped Lord Fiske replace his backpack. Kim used the time to have a quick chat.
"Sorry I told. He was going to talk about the Tiger with you anyway."
("Which you still smell of, BTW!)"
"s'Okay. I think he helped in the end."
Breaking the quiet place in time, where Kim and Ron felt on the same wavelength, another monkey troop, or maybe the same one, screeched in the jungle. Once again Ron tensed. But he did not freeze in place. He finished replacing snackage items in his pack and hooked it over his shoulders.
"Wow, Fiske's talk did help."
"I was fine before he talked to me," Ron contested. "Before they just – they caught me by surprise. I knew it was coming but... I can handle it now.
"I can't relax, but I can handle a few far off screeches. It means I know where they are. How close they are. 'Better the zombie you can see rather the one waiting to jump out of the toilet stall.' And - it means the repellent is working."
Ron grinned an 'I'm so smart" grin. Kim frowned a 'no, you're not' frown.