In Portland
It took Ben eight days to make it from the island to Oregon. Going there meant that he was leaving Hurley on his own just a few weeks after he had stepped into his new leadership role, and while neither of them was thrilled about that it was just the way it had to be.
Their "to do" list was long and included fixing up the damaged Dharma barracks and seeing if any of the communications equipment at the Flame could be salvaged. If not, they'd have to start from scratch at building up lines of communication to the outside world. Hurley and Bernard could handle the first look-through on those matters, but someone had to go off-island and make tricky things happen involving both new recruits and very expensive equipment. Ben had the contacts and the experience when it came to all that.
They had argued over only one thing: Who to bring back to the island and when. Hurley maintained if he was going to fully commit to staying forever, he had to have a few people around him: His parents, first, and also Walt. They both agreed it wouldn't be like the Jacobean era: No lines of chalk on a wall, no forced arrivals. People would have a choice about coming there, and they could come and go, too. But Hurley didn't want to live in a vacuum, with his old life a world away and untouchable. And he had a feeling they needed Walt and Walt would need them.
While Ben understood, he made the argument that it'd be better to wait to bring Walt back: Until there were places for people to live comfortably, and until they'd figured out the source of that anomaly that had shook them all up so much the first night of Hurley's time in charge.
Ben had felt and heard it too, right about the time that Hurley, Rose and Bernard had buried Jack. He felt an enormous thump underfoot, heard the deafening bang and then saw the brilliant white light that flashed around the island five times before going out as if it had never been there. Hurley had hoped Ben might have some clue what it was all about, but Ben only looked at him with eyes wide with astonishment.
"I've lived here since I was barely ten and I've never seen anything like it," Ben said under his breath a couple of days later as they all hauled boxes from the latest Dharma food drop to New Otherton. "And what worries me most is I thought we had a pretty clear handle on every piece of every Dharma hatch and all their wacky, soft-science projects on the island. It almost has to be something to do with one of them, something we've missed all this time… unless maybe…"
"I'm not crazy about your first thought, but I'm liking this even less," Hurley said. "Unless maybe what?"
"Maybe the enemy had a Plan B we never knew about."
"The enemy, as in that guy Widmore and his global conglomerate with tentacles all over the world and billions of dollars to play with? You mean shooting him dead wouldn't shut all that down? How could that possibly be?"
"That's possible, Hurley, and not to scare you but frankly it could be even worse: Maybe it's a new enemy, a faction in the Widmore camp that smelled an opportunity. The only thing worse than the enemy you know is the one you don't know."
Hurley smiled a rueful smile and shook his head. "Guess we'd better get a move-on, huh?"
Once they'd set out their plans, there was the trick of actually getting Ben off the island. Desmond hadn't returned yet, though he'd agreed he would. Hurley still had hope he would show up, though Ben wasn't sure Penny would ever actually allow that to happen again. That left them with only on viable option: The frozen donkey wheel.
"I thought this thing was broken, man," Hurley followed Ben through the tunnel that led from the inner sanctum of the Orchid station to the chamber with the wheel itself. The closest he'd ever gotten to this place was above ground, in the garden of the Orchid hearing John Locke and Jack argue about whether it was right for the 815'ers to leave the island or not.
As Hurley struggled his way down the very steep tunnel step by step, he found himself wishing again that they'd all just believed Locke. "Note to self," he thought, reaching out into the dark with one foot, "Wishful thinking won't get you down a rocky tunnel. In fact it won't get you much of anything at all."
"I thought the wheel broke, and that caused the island to start traveling through time. How are we supposed to use it now" Hurley asked. They were in front of it, thankfully done climbing downward.
"It didn't break, Hurley, it was off center, off-kilter." Ben walked around it, sizing things up. Hurley could hear the familiar thrumming sound, the same sound they used to notice through the concrete walls of the Swan hatch. It was the sound of the island's electromagnetic pockets singing out.
"John fixed the wheel by turning it and setting it back on the track," Ben said. "I don't particularly want to use it now, it's always been a measure of last resort. But we both know what has to be done."
"Um, Ben," Hurley put a tentative hand on the wheel, then pulled it off fast when he realized it wasn't just a name, the thing was freaking frozen.
"Aren't you the one who, well… put it off track last time you left the island? That's what sent Locke and Sawyer and the rest time traveling. How do you know you won't turn it off track again?"
Ben stopped in mid-appraisal of the wheel and shot him a look Hurley hadn't seen since they were all living in the Dharma barracks the first time, hiding from the freighter people. A little bit of the venomous Ben in that look, Hurley thought, but he wasn't worried and returned the cold scowl with a grin and a shrug as if repeating the question with the gesture.
"Well, Hurley, I've got a little practice at it now, so let's hope I can manage to get it right this time, okay? If all goes well, I'll land in Tunisia at the exit point of the electromagnetic pocket and you head back up the tunnel and make sure the repairs happen. But if not, well, you're right here: Do what you have to and turn the wheel back on track. Just don't turn it so hard you follow me," he muttered. "We don't want our little group of two to have to hold things down until one of us can get back. That wouldn't be pretty if anything goes wrong."
"I'm sure you'll do fine, Ben, sorry," Hurley took a seat on a rock against one of the cave walls. Ben found one of the wrenches from his last trip, and started knocking ice off the wheel. Hurley hoped he hadn't spooked him.
"Make sure to focus on the Flame, Hurley, you and Bernard. If you can get even a little of what's left of the equipment there working again, I may be able to contact you before I head back. If not, it might be awhile before we talk. I'll do my best to work fast."
Ben tossed the wrench aside, put on gloves and stared at the wheel seeming to brace himself.
"Well, here goes… something" Ben said.
"What's the trip to Tunisia like?" Hurley asked.
"It's not … pleasant." Ben looked back at him and shrugged. "You have to hope you land on your back, not on your head and not hard enough to actually break your back. Then after about five seconds it feels like all the hangovers you've ever had in your life got together and paid a return visit to your stomach."
"Whoa, got it, okay," Hurley didn't mean to laugh at his expense, but he did. "I'm sorry I asked, man. Are you worried any of "them" will be there waiting for you in the desert?"
"Widmore's people? Yes, I'm worried they'll be watching with their camera system, but hopefully they're not there 24/7 anymore and I can get on my way. I just hope I find a ride fast," he patted the canteen he was bringing along "There's no way to carry enough water for the alternative, which is a very long walk through the desert. So wish me luck, Hugo, and see you soon… hopefully in this life and not another."
"Yeah, good luck, Ben. You'll be fine, I know it." Ben shot him a quizzical look, but didn't ask what he meant.
Watching him turn the wheel, watching the cave light up and hearing the hum of the island turn into a buzzing roar, Hurley was in awe again and reminded of the odd, dangerous power of this place he had agreed to call home. Then the noise and the glare were gone and so was Ben.
Now Ben stood on the dock a little more than a week later and watched the waves, enjoying the fine mist on his face on a late-March day in Portland. The island never saw these cool, damp clouds that reached for both the water and the sky. In the silence with just the waves and the clouds and the boats bumping against the dock it was a hypnotic and happily stress-free moment.
Eventually, though, he heard the clonk, clonk, clonk sound of feet. He turned and gave a short nod and a small polite smile to the lackey who had come to get him.
"Mr. Grey can see you now, will you follow me?" Ben nodded again and they set off for the low-slung metal building that looked like a hanger but which actually housed the offices of a watercraft company well known to generations of Others.
"Did you have a good trip here, sir?"
"Uneventful, mostly," Ben said.
"Well, I'm sure we can arrange for a new boat for you and not take up too much of your day, I know you never have much time to spare."
"Actually, it's not a boat we need this time," Ben said. "I'm here for a new submarine. And would you make sure Mr. Grey knows before I get in there that we need you to work a little faster than usual? No sense wasting anyone's time."
Ben could see the dollar signs light up in even this simple emissary's eyes at the idea of such a big project falling in their laps, and he hoped again that he could bring everything together. There were networks of off-island contacts to reconnect, a new regime to tell them about… so much politicking. He felt excited, but a little out of practice too.
It was only then that he stopped to wonder if Hurley fully understood that by taking on guardianship of the island he had really also become the head of "The Others". Ben realized it was one more thing he'd need to coach him on, but he couldn't suppress the ironic smile it brought to his face - at least for a moment.