“Take us to my mountain retreat. You know where it is, right? Hurry. There is something I’d like to show you.”
After getting pulled into the helicopter by a rope and sitting down, but before we could even get our seatbelts fastened, the mayor made this hasty request.
“There’s something you’d like to show us?” I asked. “I certainly cannot wait,” I said sarcastically.
Mugi climbed aboard. This was everyone. After shutting the door, Jeff skillfully handled the control stick.
He slowly brought the chopper around. I was disappointed to hear that Jeff hadn’t flown here to rescue me. It was part of his duties as sheriff.
After getting pounded by The Golem and taken to the hospital, Jeff received medical treatment and regained consciousness. He had rested for about three hours, and then went back to his office. This was about the time we were boarding El Santo. Then he spent some time cleaning up the office, and during that time he received an emergency bulletin. The call came in from the yacht harbormaster. He said he received a mayday call from a cruiser that was out on an excursion on Lake O’Tana. The mayday was from the ship’s distress beacon. The ship’s computer sends the signal automatically at the first sign of an emergency. At any rate, the first impact we felt was from the exploding submarine, no doubt about it.
Jeff continued flying forward. It was the sheriff’s helicopter, but he kept it on the roof of a nearby building, not his own office.
After getting over Lake O’Tana he’d picked something up on the radar. If the readings were accurate, he had located some object floating approximately one meter above the surface of the lake. He flew there as fast as he could. And that’s where he’d found us drifting in the water.
Hearing this, it was only luck that had brought Jeff to us. What kind of story is that? Of course, I wanted to hear that it was destiny that brought Jeff back to me. Whenever there is an incident or accident, the sheriff always has to go and see.
The mayor’s mountain retreat was outside Aslaville, partway up a small mountain. From Lake O’Tana it took about ten minutes by helicopter.
I was a little worried we might be attacked while flying, but there were no problems, and we landed safely at the mountain retreat. Jeff let us all out in the retreat’s garden.
“All right, then. I’ll see you back at the police station…”
With a wave he was about to lift back off into the air.
“You aren’t stopping in?” asked the surprised mayor. Did he forget how he’d spoken down to the sheriff in the chopper? It didn’t matter how close they were, it was more normal in these kinds of situations to put rank and file aside and try and communicate like human beings.
“Yes, come on. Don’t be shy.”
I had ulterior motives for wanting to restrain Jeff. But, he politely, but clearly, declined the invitation.
“I can’t be gone from my office for very long. It’s a burden on the citizens.”
It was a line that almost brought a tear to my eye. I know it sounds like I am kidding when I say that, as I am not one to say that sort of thing. But really, that line was so Jeff, and it was dreamy. I couldn’t protest, and instantly agreed with what he said.
The chopper rose into the air and disappeared into the blue sky.
“He’s a strange one, that sheriff,” the mayor said, shrugging his shoulders. The mayor couldn’t understand the ways of a true and diligent young man.
We entered the retreat home. We met the stares of a group of sharp men frozen in place. These men must be the security staff I had heard about. They were in plain clothes, but they didn’t carry themselves like average citizens.
We passed through the living room. It was a spacious room. It looked like it was mainly used for parties. There were several low tables scattered around the room, and cushions were spread around on the carpet. On the right-hand side was bar and counter. One hundred people could easily assemble here.
“Feel free to make yourselves comfortable,” said the mayor. Just to be sure, we avoided going near the windows. We chose a table near the middle of the room and sat down. Arranging my legs, I leaned over to lie down on a cushion. Aah… this feels nice. With my neck and back still hurting from the ship, I could lie here forever. Mugi scooted in by Yuri and stretched his long body as he lay down.
“Here you go,” the mayor said, looking at us while he fumbled for something behind the bar.
A circular opening appeared in the center of the table. Filled cocktail glasses rose quietly from the opening. I wasn’t expecting alcohol to rise through the hole. But then I realized this would be convenient for when there were a lot of guests.
“Cheers to our safe arrival!” said the mayor, walking over and clinking our glasses.
“With special thanks to Mugi!”
I raised my glass to the one who deserved the most praise. He responded with a long yawn.
“And now…,” said Yuri, after draining her glass in one gulp, “what is it you wanted to show us?”
“This.”
The mayor entered a series of numbers into a panel on the side of the table.
Again, the center of the table opened up. But this time what rose up wasn’t a cocktail glass. It looked like a piece of rock. Long, thin, and cylindrical. It was about two centimeters thick. It was at least ten centimeters long.
“What is this?” I asked.
“About one month ago this was discovered in a mine.”
“It looks like some kind of statue,” said Yuri.
“I call it ‘Angel of Chakra.’ It is a product of a non-human civilization.”
“Non-human? Impossible!”
My face stiffened. I wanted to say that non-human civilizations were no laughing matter. They are certainly incredibly rare. And actual evidence of their existence is, well, almost non-existent.
“What do you think this figure is made of?” the mayor asked us, turning the tables.
“Stone… is what it looks like to me,” answered Yuri.
“Metal,” said the mayor, shaking his head. “Harder than KZ alloy. And this was manufactured by machine.”
“Wha—!”
We simultaneously swallowed our breaths. We had heard of metals harder than KZ alloy, but never heard of one that strong made mechanically. Our Bloody Card is made of a material stronger than KZ alloy, Tegnoid steel, but it can only be molded using a thermal manufacturing process. On top of that it can only be done at very specialized facilities.
“Now do you understand why I say this is the product of a non-human civilization?”
“Yeah, but the real question is, where did it come from? Someone must have dug that up and given it to you,” said Yuri.
“Not much gets past you,” the mayor said, clapping his hands,
“The person who dug it up was a miner named Galbaldy.”
“Galbaldy?!”
I looked at the mayor.
“That was the man killed in Jeff’s office by the invisible fangs…”
“Yes. The same Galbaldy.”
“Does the owner know about this figure?” Yuri asked.
“Naturally. On top of that, he’s hiding an incredible collection of his own. He’s probably hoping to help Lucifer with this discovery.”
“That’s not good news. Seriously—”
I examined the figure sitting on the table. Nothing about it reminded me of an angel, but it did seem to be modeled after some unknown creature. Was it possible that the model of this figure and the creature with the invisible fangs could be connected? Or were they completely unrelated? Hmm. Why did it have to be so complicated? All these ideas were getting jumbled in my head.
I was getting flustered. I am not good with complex problems. I prefer simple.
But then it struck me. I remembered something. That’s right. It was when the El Santo was attacked by the fangs. That time we saw it. If we could understand it clearly, then the conversation would become less complex.
I was about to ask the mayor about it.
But I was interrupted.
A shrill emergency alarm pierced the air.
It sounded with no warning. Unprepared for the loud sound, I jumped a full meter straight into the air.
“Now what?!”
The mayor fiddled with some buttons. A part of the wall across from us changed into a screen. On the screen was the one member of the crack security team we’d seen at the entry.
“It’s the master,” said the man on the screen. “He brought another thirty people, and now they are making a scene in front of the gate.”
“Who is ‘the master’?” I asked the mayor.
“Why don’t I show you?” said the mayor, changing the view on the screen. On the display was a view of the retreat, in front of the main gate. The retreat was surrounded by a tall wall and a large metal gate. In front of the gate a bizarre-looking crowd of people was assembled. They were all wrapped in white robes.
“In the center of that crowd is a man in a mask.”
The mayor zoomed in on the center of the crowd. Indeed, there was a man in a smooth, silver, faceless mask filling the screen.
“This guy, this is the master. He’s also known as the leader.” Leader! I know that name. Landis mentioned him.
The group yelled a big chant together. The sound came through from a microphone attached somewhere near the gate.
They were yelling, “Pagans! Begone from this sacred land!”
Master.
First the owner, then the mayor, and now another strange character makes his entrance into this case. Damn. Things just got even more complicated.