In Search of Understanding

a journalist finds that something strange is happening in a difficult-to-reach valley and tries to convince someone else

     Jensen flicked his pointed handgun to indicate that the other man was to continue up the path they were following. “I’m sorry, Mayor, but we can’t rest or the sheriff will catch up and all will be lost.”

     The heavy-set man in the fading grey suit took a long ragged breath and raised his right hand to clutch at his chest. “It’s not going to do you any good if I have a heart attack, Jensen.”

     “Just a little more. See that huge boulder appearing over the next rise? That’s where we’ll be able to see it.”

     Mayor Quisling took another deep breath and heaved himself forward. Jensen hated to do this but he had to get someone to believe him. A breeze appeared out of nowhere and stirred up the beige powder that had sifted between the rocks and pebbles. The mayor took a coughing fit and sat down again on the nearest large rock. He held a hand up toward Jensen and then reached into an inner pocket of his suit jacket to pull out a stained handkerchief. Jensen stood and waited. The dust was tickling his own nose and throat but he’d grown up in this environment so it rarely made him cough.

     “If you can move on another half field, Widder’s Peak will be out of our way. Let’s go, Mayor. Once Sheriff Oslow gets here, we can ride back down in his jeep.”

     “You’ll be under arrest.”

     “Oh, I’m counting on it. You don’t think I want to walk all the way back down, do you?”

     The mayor grabbed onto the little ridge riding up the side of the path and pulled himself up to the small plateau that Jensen had visited several times before. Jensen stepped up right behind him and pointed down into the valley that had been hidden by the mountain formations of the region. Out of the corner of his eye, he waited for the mayor’s reaction.

     Down below, surrounded by several peaks, lay a dustbowl of a valley. Not one of those ones where some loner could set up a small farm. No, this was a wasteland of rock dust that had settled into the crevasse over many millennia. Set into the center of the unceasing lack of color was something out of a science fiction novel or movie. The only reason one could even notice the structures below was that they were the pale grey of concrete against the beige of the ground. Jensen noticed that the protective wall around the compound had grown in height since he was last here and it was now curving slightly inward rather like one of those football stadiums with a roof. He’d only been here four days ago. Whatever they were building, they were hauling a*s to get it finished. Jensen observed that the mayor was completely fixated on the scene and was speechless. It was the first time he had ever seen Quisling without something to say.

     “Now you believe me?”

     The mayor took a deep breath as if he had forgotten how for a minute there. “Looks like an abandoned movie set for one of those futuristic movies.”

     Jensen sighed. In the past couple of weeks he had been accused of faking his photographs, of trying stir up hysteria, and of losing his mind. His rash actions of this morning were a last ditch attempt at regaining some credibility before it affected his newspaper business. “Sir, I assure you that since I found this place a couple weeks ago, that entire outer wall has been added.”

     The mayor turned to face him. “Nonsense, Jensen. No one can get a wall that size built in that short a time. Heck, man, there isn’t even so much as a single soul moving down there. You telling me that this wall built itself?”

     Jensen sighed. He realized that the view was not enough. “Honestly, sir, normally this place is buzzing like a beehive. Or an ant hill. I can only guess that everyone is inside.” He indicated the large formation of buildings at the center. In the very middle was a rounded tower which resembled the top of a full metal jacket bullet. There were no windows and previously he had watched people emerge from large doors that would appear and disappear again. Stretching out from the central structure were five extremely long and unusually low quasi huts. He knew from his prior visits that the one hut held construction materials since the hangar-style doors were usually open such that he could see the workmen inside bustling about. They were going to have to get closer to convince the mayor.

     Quickly, Jensen snatched up a couple of large rocks. The mayor stepped back. Jensen did not bother to alleviate the politician’s fears. The ridge they had used to reach this spot continued along the outer edge of the small plateau and then rose to climb the last few hundred feet to the top of the peak. Jensen positioned the two stones on a spot of the ridge and then tried resting his gun in between. It took a couple of adjustments until he had created what he hoped was a message to Sheriff Oslow.

     “What the heck?” The mayor sputtered.

     “Leaving Jake a message,” Jensen explained.

     “You’re going to leave a loaded gun lying around in the hopes that the sheriff finds it?”

     “It isn’t loaded, Mayor.” Jensen shrugged and gave him a sheepish grin. “Come on. We can climb down this side what with no one watching from down there. That way you can better see the tracks in the dirt and know I’ve been telling you the truth all along.”

     “There is no fecking way I’m climbing down the side of this mountain.”

     Jensen shrugged. “Have it your way. But …” He whipped out his small camera and shot several pictures of the mayor against the backdrop of the building site. “You can be the one to explain how I managed to get a photo of you in that dirty suit against a figment of my imagination.”

     True to form, the mayor was more concerned by the comment that his suit was dirty. He slapped at the dust that had gathered at the hems of his pants during the long walk up here. Jensen chuckled and stepped carefully over the ridge. That suit was going to get a lot worse before it got better. He searched for a reliable route to the next plateau that he knew was down there. Even without a worn path, he could see where the local wildlife had meandered among the rocky outcrops to get to the little trickle of water that appeared below feeding the only hint of grass for miles around. He turned back to see the mayor joining him.

     Jensen reached into the back pocket of his jeans and handed the mayor a cell phone. “There shouldn’t be any reception this far out from any town but, look.”

     Mayor Quisling took back his phone and opened the screen. Jensen watched as realization spread across the man’s ruddy face. Jensen signalled that the mayor could keep his own phone now. Jensen was tired of playing this bad guy game. He had just wanted the mayor to see that there was something very mysterious going on in this valley. He trudged along the side of the mountain, switching back as needed to keep to a firm footing. It worried at him that for the first time since he had stumbled onto this strange construction, there was not one person to be seen. No one was carrying supplies. No one was adding to the structures. No one was hurrying to another part of the buildings. All three of his visits since the discovery had allowed him to observe the hustle and bustle which had led him to believe that it was either a secret government installation or that someone was setting up a mining camp without getting all the proper permissions. Those were the only two explanations that he had come up with which made any sense to him.

     If it was secret government site, then they would be arrested by MPs when they got to the bottom and hopefully just made to sign some security document. He sure did not want to spend the next ten years in some black site prison. Somewhere over the last few days, Jensen had decided that his other idea was the most likely. Since he had reported his discovery in the local paper, he assumed that government agents would have appeared in town and convinced him to stop the story immediately. Since that had not happened, he was now certain that this was some kind of illegal mining operation and he worried that they might actually be planning on fracking into the base of the mountain range. Fracking was still not well-researched but logic said that blasting of any kind into their dusty mountain would pose health hazards for sure.

     A yelp sounded behind Jensen, followed by the rattle of pebbles and small rocks. He turned to see the mayor getting back up and dusting his suit off yet again. Maybe he should have brought the man a pair of proper walking shoes. Oh well, too late now. The mayor waved Jensen on so he continued toward the small patch of green. As it neared, Jensen now understood why the trickle of water had not continued to the valley. Where the plateau met the side of the mountain, there was a small cave leading back down into the mountain. Jensen chuckled to himself. Mother Nature was not wasting a precious drop of water on this wasteland. The green turned out to be mostly mosses. Jensen held his cupped hands under the trickle and greedily slurped at the moisture. The mayor quickly joined him. They had probably climbed halfway down by now. Sure enough, when Jensen compared the distance to the glint of his gun reflecting the sunlight to the floor below, it seemed about the same. The two men wiped their dusty faces with more moisture and looked at the much larger scene below.

     “There. Now you can see why I’m positive that it’s an illegal mining operation.” Jensen pointed to the tower. “See how the center has been reinforced?”

     “Not really, but it does look rather solid,” the mayor admitted. “The place looks deserted. Is it possible that your story may have scared them off?”

     “Not likely. There’s too much money invested here to just abandon it. It’s probably just everyone’s day off. It is the weekend and it does look like they’re nearly done.”

     “You see anyway in through that wall?”

     “I know where the opening was to let the trucks in and out. Hopefully we can find a way in there.”

     The sun was settling well into the western sky by the time the two men managed to reach the wall. The mayor was reeling from the heat and the exertion. Jensen scolded himself that he should have brought a couple of canteens with him. But then he had originally thought that they would just reach the upper plateau and then just sit to wait for the sheriff. For a moment he wondered why there had been no sign from Oslow that he had found where they had begun their descent. He searched back up the mountainside but could no longer find any glint of metal up there. It could be that the sun was in the wrong spot or that Oslow had pocketed it before trying to find a way down to them in his jeep. The construction and supply trucks had managed to find a way into this valley somehow. Oslow would find the way in as well now that he knew to look for it. Jensen turned his attention to finding a way through the wall. The mayor needed to get to some water soon.

     A soft scraping sound came from around the curve of the wall. Jensen flattened against the wall and skulked in that direction. He wished for a corner that he could peek around to see the source of the noise. To his relief, it was only a thin branch from some poor scraggly bush caught between two panels. He had found the opening despite his quiet fear that he did not really know where it was. He signalled for the mayor to hurry and then searched for a way to open the panel fully. With the help of the mayor, Jensen was able to slide the panel sideways to give them entrance to the compound. The mayor stepped through and stumbled a little. Jensen moved quickly to assist the older man, but the world went black.

 

     Jensen became aware that his head was pounding and tried to reach up to feel the worst spot of pain. His hand stopped suddenly as a chain rattled with tension. He opened his eyes willing himself to stay conscious as the sharp light pierced into the back of his brain sending off more pounding. He was slumped against a cement wall and held in place by shackles attached to each wrist. Really? Couldn’t his captors have simply hooked to his ankles? He needed to know how badly he had been hit. A groan escaped from the pile next to him.

     “Mayor? Is that you? Are you okay?” Another groan and the mayor’s form shifted to a sitting position. Jensen watched as realization hit the mayor as well. “I am so sorry,” Jensen apologized. “Obviously they have someone on security duty.”

     Suddenly a door banged open into the room and two uniformed men stepped in. They uncuffed the mayor and dragged him to his feet. Then, between them, the security officers forced the older man out the door.

     “Wait!” shouted Jensen. “Give him some water. Please! He’s exhausted. He has--” The door slammed shut again, creating new waves of pain in Jensen’s skull. He lay there waiting for his turn but darkness returned first.

     When consciousness arrived again, Jensen was sitting slumped over a table. His ears still rang from the pain in his head but this time he could reach a hand to the large bump. He winced as his finger grazed the surface.

     “Awake finally, I see.”

     Jensen realized that he was not alone. He eyed the burly man in the khaki coveralls as best as he could, given that moving his head hurt immeasurably. A tumbler of water sat to one side of the table and Jensen moved his hand slowly to reach for it. A khaki sleeve slid the tumbler toward him.

     “So, what are we going to do about you?”

     Jensen saw no need to answer the question since it was all beyond his control. He fought the urge to gulp the water and took long slow sips to moisten his caked throat. When he felt he could trust his voice, Jensen looked his captor square in the eye and asked, “Where’s the mayor? Is he okay?”

     “You mean the old man who was with you? You don’t have to worry about him. We took care of him.”

     Jensen was afraid to ask what he meant. Either possible choice suggested that the mayor was in a better situation. Jensen just nodded and closed his eyes to relax and gather his thoughts. Clearly they had been seen climbing down the mountain. And clearly these men had set a trap. His only conclusion was that they would be disposed of in the most efficient way possible. So why was he still alive? They must need something from him. But, what?

     “So are we waiting for someone to come question me or what?” Jensen could hear the bravado in his voice. “You might as well go tell them I’m awake.”

     There was a tug at his one arm. As Jensen reopened his eyes, he could see the khaki sleeve unlocking the cuff of the chain reaching to the underside of the table. “If you can stand, we’re going for a walk.” An arm reached under his and forced him to stand. The world tilted for a moment or two and then Jensen found his footing. He shook off the supporting arm but the burly guard stayed right at his side. The hallway they stepped into was sharply curved so Jensen immediately assumed that they were in the tower portion.

     Burly Dude indicated that they were to proceed to the right. “Right now, you’re about two hundred feet below the surface, so I have no worry that you’ll run off. You’ll only get lost.”

     “So I was right. This is some kind of mining operation.”

     “Not exactly.” As they walked around the tight curve, Burly Dude took on a tour guide attitude and tone. He pointed out that the rooms to the outside were all living quarters at this level. Offices and laboratories were on the floors above while common usage rooms such as the large dining hall and library were below. He pointed to an open elevator on the outside wall and they stepped in. Burly Dude punched in a code and pushed a button. Jensen took note of the fact that the elevator signaled that they were on -16 and going down. Jensen’s stomach rumbled as he wondered if they were headed to the aforementioned dining hall. It had been many hours since he scrabbled in his predawn kitchen for some semblance of breakfast.

     As they stepped off onto the -18 level, Burly Dude continued his explanation of the surrounding rooms. All Jensen could think about was how big an operation this was if they were already eighteen floors below ground and they still had not reached the area where the mining equipment was working. And clearly it was working, since there a steady rumbling hum in the air coming from behind the inside wall. Jensen became aware of numerous voices all talking in conversational tones and realized they had indeed come to a large gathering room filled with people at dozens of tables. Most were wearing the same type of coveralls as Burly dude but in differing colors.

     “You’re to eat a light meal and then be taken to see the Commander.” Burly Dude was pointing to a row of metal buffet counters. “I’ll be back for you in a half hour. Enjoy.”

 

     A half hour was barely enough to fill up on the variety of foods available at the buffet. Jensen was sipping his third cup of dark roast coffee with hazelnut cream when Burly Dude appeared at the same doorway he had left. Jensen had chosen a seat where he could see all three doors into the dining hall so he was able to observe his guard before the big man spotted him. Burly Dude was obviously known among the people seated nearest the door. They all stopped talking and eating to watch him search the room. Jensen waved but the man stood his ground and twitched his head to indicate that Jensen was to follow. Jensen stood to follow but a young woman at a nearby table stopped him to insist that he clean up after himself first. Jensen complied and then dashed to join Burly Dude.

     “What is your name?” Jensen asked as they headed back to the elevator.

     “I’m S-E-C-zero-zero-seven.”

     Jensen chuckled. “Double-O Seven. Does that mean you have a license to kill?”

     Burly Dude stopped abruptly. “Killing is a crime. That would get one banished.”

     Jensen noticed the awed hush to SEC Double-O Seven’s voice and could almost swear that the big man was afraid of the concept of banishment. So what if one had to live outside of the compound? That was exactly where he wanted to be right this minute. But before he could question his guard any further, Burly Dude (it was an easier moniker) went back into his tour guide speech about the amenities of the facility. Jensen learned that the administrative offices were on the upper part of the underground levels with only Security plus what BD called Interactive Services, whatever that was, situated above them. Ground level and above were storage facilities, for now. Only brown and black suits were housed any lower than the common rooms. Burly Dude seemed to run out of information just before the elevator reached the -3 level. He waved Jensen out ahead of him and then turned to the left.

     The outer wall at this level was lined with what were obviously offices with large glass windows lined by draperies on the inside. Inside the few rooms which had the curtains open, Jensen could see staff working diligently at computer stations and desks. Everyone seemed preoccupied with their responsibilities since no one stood around chatting to coworkers. Finally Burly Dude stopped at a spot where the windows were smaller and higher up, separated by a large oak door. Jensen realized that this was the first time he had seen anything other than metal, cement, and glass. Burly Dude touched a spot behind his right ear and announced that they were at the Commander’s door.

     Jensen blinked as the door before them slid into the wall, allowing a rush of pink light to escape into the corridor. Burly Dude stepped back and raised an arm for Jensen to proceed inward. As Jensen stepped over the threshold, the door swished closed behind him. He could only assume that Burly Dude had been dismissed. The office before him was quite opulent. To the left sat a sizeable leather couch with a matching chair at either end. Tucked between the pieces were black end tables made from a wood so highly polished that they nearly shone blue. Above them the wall displayed copies of famous paintings from differing time periods of history. In front of the seating area was an old ornamental carpet depicting fish and doves about a central pictorial that was no longer recognizable. In the center of the room was a large copy of the famous statue of David, bordered by large leafy plants. Beyond that, hid a wet bar and coffee center. At the other end of the room stood a large oak desk cutting across the corner. Here again was another ancient carpet in faded tones of red and blue. A faux window behind the desk displayed a pink and orange sunset off a tropical beach. And directly in front of that sat a heavyset man in a navy with grey pinstripe suit. Jensen blinked again to clear his vision.

     “Come on in. Grab a chair. Let’s have a chat, shall we?”

     Jensen groaned as he stepped toward the desk to take one of the padded chairs seated before it. What little he had thought he understood had become completely muddled. He swallowed to hide his discomposure and tried to make his voice light and pleasant. “Good to see you alive and well, Mayor.”

     “Oh, you can call me Commander Quisling here. Or just Commander. Did Sec give you the tour and find you something to eat?”

     Jensen just nodded. His head was beginning to throb again with the myriad of questions. He felt adrift on an ocean with a circling shark.

     “So, let’s be clear right from the start, Jensen. You only have three choices as far as I can see it right now. You can join the staff in some capacity, you can be conscripted into the brown-and-blacks, or you can be banished. While you were never on our radar, your ability to find this place has given us some thought as to including you. You have proven to be resourceful, persistent, and resilient. However, you show a decided lack of willingness to be persuaded away from your chosen course which is why I’m allowing you to choose your fate.”

     “Well, given that I don’t have enough information, I can hardly say that I have any choices. For instance, why the charade of following me to someplace that you already knew about?”

     Quisling raised a hand. “More than enough time for that, my man. Let me tell you a little story: At the end of the Napoleonic Wars and the American Civil War, the elite upper classes of the western world began to recognize that our grip was weakening. That was made even more apparent by the Russian Revolution and the disastrous turns of the two world wars. Efforts to force the lower classes back into some manageable form of enslavement were difficult and often thwarted by an ever-growing human rights movement. But those goody-goodies could not see that slaves and indentured servants had been the best solution for building empires, and thus large corporations, right from the beginning of time. The elite class had to find better ways to get the common person to give up their freedoms and desires for luxury possessions.

     We encouraged anti-racial, misogynistic, and other hateful behaviors to create discord. We undermined the economy creating a greater distance between the wealthy and our servants. We encouraged skirmishes all over the world to decimate populations. We dismantled school systems and took control of the media to keep the masses uneducated. We funded the drug trade to numb the minds of the middle class. But still the demands for equality rose from the filthy streets. As if we owed any of the masses anything! We were the ones who had conquered new lands. We built the empires. We established the businesses that met the needs of everyone. Why should we have to pay more out of our pockets for those who have done nothing more than ride our coattails? The time has come to wipe out those who will not recognize their place in the scale of things.” Quisling took a deep breath. “And the time has come for you to make a choice. Our enclave is not designed to house the many, only the few. You can choose to serve in a capacity that allows you some sense of purpose or you can choose to join the lowest levels as a common laborer.”

     “I believe there was a third choice?”

     “Banishment? Yes, there is that, but Jensen, surely you recognize that that is a death sentence?”

     “No, I see that as living with dignity.”

     Quisling sighed deeply leaving Jensen to wonder why his choice to leave should disappoint this maniac. Surely the man had not believed that Jensen would join this enclave of insanity? Quisling just shook his head, “You still don’t get it, do you, Jensen?”

 

     Burly Dude was carrying a weapon now, albeit pointed at the ground as he walked alongside Jensen toward the outer wall. Jensen was shocked to realize that there was no sky overhead. The wall had been completed with a domed roof just like those stadiums that had come to mind earlier. But this was much larger than a football field; it was an astounding structural engineering accomplishment which needed to be documented. Jensen paused to shoot a couple pictures of the upper structure then jogged to catch up with Burly Dude. Finally they reached their destination. Jensen could see the control panel to open the wall.

     He turned to Burly Dude and stuck out a hand. “Thanks, Double-O Seven.”

     “You still don’t get it,” replied the big man sadly as he put on the helmet that he had carried out under one arm. He raised his gun to point at Jensen, activated the control panel, and quickly shoved Jensen through the opening. The panel slid back quickly leaving Jensen out on the barren plain leading back to the mountains. High overhead a wind howled from mountain peak across to another. Jensen looked up to see that the sky was a pale putrid shade of green partially covered by a dull grey-black cloud which grew outward like a mushroom. Now, he understood.

Author's Note

Is the ending too vague?