Payback in the Zamborini Desert

Payback in the Zamborini Desert

“We have all the supplies we need,” said Jonas. “Let’s get going.” He zipped up his spacesuit.

“Let’s see the inventories,” said Dr. Grant. Dr. Evelyn Grant led the group. She was a 

renowned archaeologist known for her unending pursuit of historical truths, and she took her responsibilities seriously. She inspected the readout on her visor.

“We should bring extra oxygen, just in case,” said Dr. Samuel North, the project engineer. He pointed to the endless sands of the Zamborini Desert and the rock formations that jutted out at odd angles like tombs for alien bones.

“We have enough oxygen,” argued Jonas. “I’m the field expert. I have a Ph.D., like the rest of you, though I don’t flaunt it. Three days in to the Lost City, one day to explore and gather artifacts, three days back. We have enough oxygen to last ten days, which is more than enough.”

“No one has explored this planet before,” said Dr. Grant. “We don’t know what we may encounter. I want us prepared for the worst.”

“The Boogie Man might be behind any rock,” said Jonas. “We’ll have to blast him when he appears. Zzzzt! Zzzzt! The Boogie Man is dust.”

“Very funny. We’re fortunate that the gravity and atmosphere are much like earth’s,” said Dr. Clara Evans.. “We still have to wear suits and helmets, because the atmosphere has too many poisonous gases for our systems.”

“Yeah, we all know that,” said Jonas. “I’m the field expert, and I’ve read the reports, and read them, and read them. I didn’t have anything else to do between the trip from the space station to this lonely place.” He added under his breath, “Especially since Clara has no interest in romance.”

“I’ll pretend that I didn’t hear that,” said Dr. Grant. “This isn’t a fraternity house. Let’s keep this expedition professional. Every one of us must act like an adult for the good of the group.” She took a look at her expedition professionals: Jonas Reed, a seasoned field expert, a Ph.D. who refused to flaunt his degree; Dr. Clara Evans, a medical doctor and an experienced cartographer; and Dr. Samuel North, a resourceful engineer. “Agreed?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Clara.

“Yes,” said Samuel.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” said Jonas. “When we get back home with our treasure, we’ll dance all night in our underwear.”

“Maybe you will,” said Samuel. “You have no shame.”

“Samuel, you’ll be at the senior center playing bingo in your pajamas,” said Jonas.

Samuel said, “You’ll play banjo in the bingo parlor with only a fig leaf to protect you.”

Dr. Grant asked Clara, “Let us know when we need to change course.”

Clara said, “Based on the aerial photos, we will continue on this course for three kilometers, then veer northwest at a rock formation.”

“Increase your pace, everyone,” said Dr. Grant. The sands and sand dunes stretched to the horizon.

“Life is not a race to be won, but a journey to be enjoyed,” said Jonas.

Samuel responded, “You go ahead and smell the roses in this desert, Jonas. The rest of us want to reach the treasure cave before the year is over.”

“Roses are red–,” Jonas began. “Hey, that looks like a lizard.” A blue-green lizard-like creature had scampered onto a rock ahead of them. The creature was twice the size of the lizards found in deserts on earth. Its scales reflected the morning light like a prism splits white light into colors.

“Stay still, you guys,” said Jonas. He paused, thinking. “Sorry, my mistake. Guys and gals and everything in between.” He circled around behind the lizard, crept up to it, and snatched it in his gloves. It struggled to escape and he clasped it tighter.

Samuel said, “Maybe you should let it go. We don’t know anything about it.”

“Then you can study it close-up and learn,” said Jonas. He pushed the lizard at Jonas’s hands. The lizard popped up and its tongue darted out, tearing a hole in Jonas’s space suit, then the lizard darted to the shadow of a rock.

“What have you done?” Samuel asked. “Now I have to stop and patch my space suit. That slows us down.” He set down his pack and rifled through it for tape and patches, then stopped and put a hand over the torn spot. “It hurt my arm. Burning sensation. Must have been the tongue. Poison in . . . it.” He fainted.

Jonas ran toward him. Dr. Grant pushed him away. “Clara and I will handle this,” she said. “I’ll deal with you later.” The two women spent several minutes to tend to the wound and reseal the space suit. Jonas awoke, and they gave him a healing liquid that made him feel better almost instantly.

Dr. Grant pulled Jonas aside. “You had better settle down, man. We don’t know anything about the creatures on Miravel Prime. We don’t know about the terrain, or what lurks beneath our feet. You’ve been trained to take care around danger. I suggest you cool it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Jonas. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” said Dr. Grant. “I want you to contribute to the group. You have a lot to offer. You explored Nymorath and Xyloxis. That’s one reason I selected you for this team.”

“You wouldn’t believe what we did on Xyloxis,” said Jonas.

“Tell me about it another time,” said Dr. Grant. “Team, let’s go forward. We’ll make our camp in three hours.”

They made their camp by a rock formation, ate dinner, and slept, taking turns to keep watch. In the morning they ate breakfast, checked their equipment, and began their walk again.

The morning sky, bluish-green, did little to pick up their spirits. Noticing this, Jonas sang an ancient star-song:

Look to the stars

Look past the planet Mars

We will go far

Farther than Zanzibar

“Very nice, Jonas,” Clara said. “Now if you would keep quiet, we’ll enjoy the walk more.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Jonas, who dashed behind her and crimped a breathing tube just enough so that she would not notice the lower air flow right away. Three hours later, as they were close to gathering for lunch, Clara stumbled and fell on the sand. “Can’t . . . breathe,” she said.

“Let me help you,” Jonas said. “Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation will do the job.” He bent down to remove her helmet.

“Knock it off, Jonas,” said Dr. Grant. She pushed him away from Clara, removed the helmet, and placed her breathing tube in Clara’s mouth. After a few minutes, she revived. Dr. Grant inspected Clara’s equipment and found the pinched tube. She whirled around. “Did you do this, Jonas?”

“Do what?” he asked.

“Pinch the tube.” She pointed at the spot where the tube had been pinched.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. That could have happened at night. She could have rolled over and slept on it. That’s how it was pinched.” He put on an innocent look.

“This had better not happen again,” said Dr. Grant. “Never again.” Her eyes were cold.

The group traipsed forward. On the third day, they came to ruins, ruins they believed were the lost city of Zamborini, the fabled megalopolis rumored throughout the galaxy to be rich with secrets and treasures. The rose-red ruins stood ten stories tall. The explorers found footholds and handholds, and they climbed to the top and scraped away the accumulated soil and plants. This work took longer than they had expected. They broke for lunch and went back to work.

The more they scraped the growth away, the more carvings that appeared, carvings in the rock that had stood in the sand for millennia. Jonas scraped the sand away from the “porch” of the formation, and underneath it he found more carvings. Dr. Grant photographed these carvings and studied them on her visor. She knew the languages from Gliese 581c and Aragon Oedipus IV, and she deduced that the language in these carvings had derived from those languages. She fed the information into her language database, which processed the data and provided a rough translation.

“Listen up, team,” she said. “I have a rudimentary translation of the carvings on this porch. Essentially it warns that anybody who enters the sanctuary within will have their biggest flaws exposed and it may cost their life, for he who approaches the throne of Tharxxos must have a perfect heart.”

Dr. Clark said, “That’s the best I can do on short notice. I do know that Tharxxos rules over the realm of lost memories, forgotten artifacts, and vanished civilizations. His form is said to change like smoke, always slipping away from clear vision. He collects what is left behind and guards ancient knowledge in realms beyond the reach of humans. Anybody who loses something valuable must pray to him, hoping he may return it.”

“First,” said Jonas, “we must find the door to this sanctuary. It must be adjacent to the porch.” He began to clear away an area. The others assisted him, and after an hour and a half, they had the outlines of a door in the rock. The door had a giant iron handhold. “Let’s go in,” he said. He pulled with all his might on the handhold. The door did not budge. The others assisted him. The door swung open, and before them was a large dark chamber.

“Let’s shine our illuminators before we take a step inside,” said Dr. Clark.

“I’m not afraid,” said Jonas. 

“Do you have a perfect heart?” Clara asked.

“Always,” said Jonas. He was less than ten steps inside the chamber when four spider-like arms, each a foot in diameter, creaked from the darkness. Jonas turned and tried to run back outside, but each arm had ten fingers, and the fingers grasped Jonas’s throat and squeezed. “Help!” he called. His eyes bulged. He squeaked. His face turned bluish.

The others ran into the chamber and attempted to pull the fingers from his throat. Some succeeded, some did not. By this time Jonas had passed out. Dr. Clark suggested that they all pull his legs, and their combined strength was enough to free him from the grasp of the fingers. They dragged him outside the chamber and into the sunlight.

“He wasn’t right with Tharxxos,” Clara said. “He didn’t have a perfect heart.”

Dr. Clark said, “He’s not gone yet.” She went through the procedure to resuscitate him. Slowly but surely this worked. His chest moved up and down as he took short breaths, then longer breaths. After a while, as they looked on, concerned, he sat up and looked around.

“That thing almost killed me,” he said.

“The legend says you must have a perfect heart to approach Tharxxos,” said Dr. Clark.

He frowned. “Thank you for saving my life, everyone. I don’t have a perfect heart. I have a wicked heart. I did pinch that hose,” he said. “You probably knew that already. I don’t deserve to be around you people.” He stumbled to his feet. “I don’t deserve to live.”

He stumbled to his feet and headed toward the chamber. Dr. North grabbed his arm, and Jonas shook it off. He ran and stumbled into the chamber. After a few seconds, they heard a startled cry and stifled cry for help. After a few minutes more had passed. They heard a thump. Dr. North shone his illuminator inside the chamber. “He’s lying there, dead, and the creature is wrapping him in a web.”

“No one has a perfect heart,” said Dr. Clark, “so none of us should go into the Tharxxos chamber. Time to return to the ship.”

***