The Forbidden Temple of Khyber Gorah – Chapter Two: Again, The Woman in White

Sunlight peered through the rundown window, illuminating the equally dilapidated hallway. There, sitting in the hallway, was Sara. She wore a two layered jumpsuit: the bottom half was her tegarei, a black secondary skin that covered everything except her head and fingertips. Over that was her typical white jumpsuit with the sleeves and leggings rolled up. Her dark hair was trim short with graying strands dangling in front of her distant, green eyes. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

The reporters erupted from their hiding places and flooded the entrance of the derelict building as Sara came out. Microphones were shoved into her face as questions buzzed from all around her.

“Did you retire from being Ambassador of Harmony because of the current political climate on Nagostia?”

“As an original member of the Interventionists, how do you feel about a new group using the same name?”

“Isn’t this whole Solid Matter nonsense just a hoax and a waste of the taxpayers’ money?”

Sara declined to say anything. She just shook her head as she made her way through the swarm of reporters and into the awaiting limousine. The second she shut the door, the limousine shot out into traffic.

“Troublesome, aren’t they?” said sole occupant besides Sara. He was Louis Demark, local governor of the region. “And I would know, right?”

“I appreciate your assistance back there,” replied Sara. “But a man of your importance must have better things to do than taxi me around.”

“You were once a person of importance. That is, until you threw it away and resigned. Why?”

“The same reason anyone changes their profession.”

“You’re not serious about that Solid Matter Phenomenon junk you’ve been spouting, are you? I thought that was just a smokescreen.”

Sara gazed out of the smoked windows, watching the world whiz by her. “I saw something years ago, something impossible. I thought it was a one-time deal, an oddity. But it’s still happening, on a much smaller scale, but with increasing frequency all over the galaxy.”

“But do really expect people to believe what you’re claiming? That inanimate objects are taking on characteristics of the living? That goes beyond the laws of physics.”

“All the more important why I should find out why it’s happening.”

“Why you?”

“If not me, who else would do it?” countered Sara. “You?”

The governor let out a rumbling laugh. “Of course not. But maybe it’s something no one should be messing with.”

“Perhaps.” Sara’s eyes turned to meet his. “But don’t you have more important things to do than debate my dubious goals?”

“In fact, there is something of some importance I need to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

“That derelict building you just left? The one you claim to have one of these Solid Matter Phenomenon.”

“Yes?” answered Sara patiently.

“Did you know that it was scheduled for demolition, to make room for the new parking structure?”

“Well, it’s not going to be, now that it houses a scientific oddity that needs to be examined by a team of experts.”

“Did you know about the three hundred vagrants that lived there that would have become homeless nobodies had the parking structure been built?”

“Are you suggesting that I perpetrated a fraud using my own scientific theory, which most already consider to be a lie, to help three hundred people I don’t even know?” There was a hint of a smile as the corners of Sara’s lips pointed upward. “Do I really look like I’m that kind of person?”

The limo came to a stop. “Here’s your stop, and don’t feint ignorance. You may have gone out of your way to hide your car, but I have my sources, so don’t insult my intelligence.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” replied Sara.

“Under the windshield wipers is a ticket with a destination of your choice. The sooner you leave the better.”

“Dear Louis, I am very touched. I hardly have the words to express my admiration of your thoughtfulness.”

“Sara, everyone knows your reputation. Trouble follows you wherever you go, and I’d like to you to get you as far away from here as soon as possible.”

Sara opened the door and started to exit the vehicle. “I appreciate your honesty, but if I had known you cared for me so much, I’d have visited more often.” She punctuated this by slamming the door shut. She watched the limousine merge into the traffic and disappear over the metal horizon.

Sara crossed the street and down an alleyway. There, shrouded in shadows, was her white car, and, just as the governor had said, there was a white envelope underneath the left windshield wiper. She plucked the document, opened the door, and slid into her car.

Inside, with a press of a button, a small LCD screen popped up, and a number of messages started to scroll down the screen. Using the buttons on her steering wheel, Sara went through each one, until she came to Zoey’s message. It was written in rush, because of some obvious typos that were unlikely for Zoey to leave.

Basically, the message asked her to meet Zoey as soon as Zoey got off her stop at Alabastir. While the message seemed genuine, it felt very convenient that she would receive this message after her meeting with the governor. To satisfy her suspicions, Sara ran a number of programs to verify the origin of the message. Moments later, the program came back, stating that the message came from where it said it had.

Sara looked grimly at the ticket. “I guess you’re going to get your wish afterall.”



While it took some considerable effort, not to mention calling in a couple favors, Sara managed to beat Zoey’s train to Alabastir. Sara waited in the station as the train from Imitatia exited from the artificial wormhole. As the bustling crowds flooded out of the opening doors, Sara patiently scanned the crowds for her friend. The hairs on the back of her head started to prick up as the crowds started to thin out, and there was still no sign of Zoey. She started to make her way to the train to see if Zoey was still on it, when something stopped her. Or, more accurately, someone. A large hand firmly held onto her arm as another one poked a gun into her back.

“This isn’t really necessary,” said Sara, tilting her head to the left in an attempt to get a peek at her detractors. “I’m sure we can talk about this without sticking a gun into my ribs.”

“Relax,” said a female voice. “Your friend is safe, for now. She’s entertaining our boss, but if you don’t come with us, we can’t guarantee what will happen to her.” The large hand crushing her arm spun Sara around to see her two captors. The first was a large, burly man who reeked of cigarettes. His shaven head glistened with sweat. His partner was a tall, thin woman with short, spiky hair. They wore identical dark suits. “In fact,” she continued. “If you let us take you for a ride, we might even let you see her.”

Sara measured the two up and calculated at least three possible escape scenarios. Unfortunately, they were in a populated area, and there was too great a chance that some bystander would get hurt. Sara sighed inwardly and said, “I guess you have me right where you want me. Lead on.”

And lead her they did to their nondescript car awaiting in the parking lot. Before putting Sara in the back seat, the woman bound Sara’s hands behind her back. She shoved Sara into the back of the car. She then reached in and pulled the seatbelt over Sara and snapped it into place.

“How very thoughtful of you,” said Sara as the door slammed shut. The woman sat in the passenger’s seat as her bulky partner started the engine. As they started to travel through the city, Sara struggled and squirmed at her bindings. Seemingly giving up, Sara stopped and asked, “What do I call you two? I’d hate for this trip to be boring.”

“Just keep quiet,” said the woman sharply.

“At least tell me where you’re taking me.”

“No,” said the two thugs said in unison.

“Hey,” said Sara. “I didn’t know he could talk.”

The woman turned around in her seat. “How about you do us a favor and shut up, before I do it for you.”

Just then, the seatbelt snapped off and whipped up and off of Sara. “Oops,” said Sara. They had just started to cross over a bridge and were slowly coming to a stop at a red light. The already frustrated woman started to lean back to redo Sara’s seatbelt. Suddenly, Sara’s hands were free. Sara’s right hand grasped the woman’s belt, pulling her into the back of the car, while her left hand reached into the woman’s jacket and pulled out the gun. The female thug landed face first into the back. As she struggled to right herself, Sara pointed the gun to the large man’s head.

A long time ago, Sara was very versatile with guns, though she had not used one in centuries. It was, however, the first time someone had pointed a gun at the man’s head. He panicked and sped through the red light. The sudden speed pushed Sara against the seating. Blind from panic, the man crossed over into the on-coming traffic.

A large semi truck hit their car head on. The front of the car was smashed in, sending it sprawling backwards. Out of control, the car sped off the bridge and crash-landed onto the ground below. The jarring screeching of tearing metal was Sara’s first clue that she was still alive. Searing pain was the second. She struggled to sit up and take stock of what happened. The female thug was lying unconscious next to her. Sara craned her sore neck to see the front end of the car a mess of twisted metal. There was no way the burly man could still be alive.

Sara leaned down and checked the woman’s pulse. She was alive as well, but barely. Sara clasped her head, pain screaming out. No, not pain. A train. Sara looked out the rear windshield to see that they had indeed landed on train tracks. A distant light was slowly growing larger, as an all too familiar whistle sounded. Sara tried to open the door, but the metal was twisted, and the door wouldn’t budge. Quickly, Sara went to the other side and to try that door but met with a similar failure.

Frantic, Sara started kicking at the door, hoping to dislodge it. The light was growing larger; the whistling was becoming more and more frequent. Her ringing ears were now assaulted with the squealing of brakes. Sara took one last look out of the windshield to see the light blotting everything out.

There was no way the train would stop in time…

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Written by J M Emmons. The story and all characters are copyrighted by J M Emmons.