Olvusulthia, Revised

[jaosals42]

More work. Personally, this section is one of my favorite thus far other than the opening scene:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cesare Vinatelli sat on a wooden stool, leaning toward the campfire in attempt to keep warm, his tent standing idly a good several feet behind him. In the morning, he planned to head into downtown Cairo and meet with leader of the expedition, Julio Delaguerra, hoping all would go well. Right now though, he, Cesare, was only concerned about keeping warm and keeping away the insects.

 

“Damn mosquitoes!” he mumbled deeply, swatting the air with his hand vainly while the nuisances gathered around him and the fire. “Wonder how they can like this cold…”

 

The air, while about fifty degrees Fahrenheit, seemed to be frozen. The dry air didn’t help with keeping any extra warmth in the atmosphere either. Cesare looked from the fire to the nearby ground – a hunting rifle lay on the ground next to an aged black-leather backpack. The backpack was about thirty-five years old, two years older than he, and given to him as a gift from his father after Cesare went on his first trip. On one of the sides, a small tear had been patched once and again multiple times. While old and worthless in stores, the backpack had a lot of sentimental value to him, and he swore to never trash it till it split in half.

 

Off about five hundred meters to his left was the Nile River itself. Further off to the left and about two miles north from there were the Great Pyramids of Giza. Cairo and its lights were about another several miles north.

 

Cesare began to feel his eyes grow heavy. He saw the time was three-fifteen in the morning and began to consider going to sleep. A rustling sound coming from the nearby reeds repressed those thoughts, however. As the moon had already set, Cesare could not see what hid in the marshes. All he knew, however, was that he didn’t wish to go to sleep with the prospect that something might attack him in the night – namely, a crocodile.

 

“What is that?” he demanded, grabbing his rifle and noting the fact that a knife slept in its shaft suspended by his belt. “Mr. Delaguerra? No, that can’t be you…”

 

He walked cautiously into the marsh with his boots sinking into a small pool of water of reeds and cattails. He turned on the flashlight hanging from a pocket on his chest while looking twice to both the right and left.

 

As he approached the eastern edge of the river, the sound stopped as suddenly as it had started. He slapped the back of his neck one last time as a mosquito fell dead to the ground, failing at its task.

 

“That’s strange. I thought I heard… Okay Cesare –You’re just hearing things, that’s it. You probably just need to get some sleep now…”

 

He turned around, heading back to the campsite while still securely holding onto his rifle. In just a second’s time, the rustling sound returned.

 

“Or maybe I wasn’t.”

 

A large wall of water pushed him down on his back down onto a pile of mud, while knocking the rifle several feet back and out of reach.

 

“Damn it!”

 

A young crocodile rose out of the water and stomped over him, dripping more swamp water on his face. It held him down and tried to bite, but he was holding back the crocodile’s saliva filled mouth with both his hands pushing the bottom of the mouth upward. He could feel and smell the creature’s warm, foul breath flow along his body and into his nose and mouth. Its back left leg pushed down on Cesare’s right leg, cutting him slightly with its claw-like feet and forcing him to hold back a yell of pain. He continued o hold the creature back, but was running out of energy to do so with.

 

The next thing that Cesare knew was that a booming sound suddenly rippled the air and the crocodile on him rolled over, though still breathed lightly. A shotgun nearby was pumped rather loudly in the seconds that followed.

 

“What the…?” Cesare got up, looking behind him.

 

The man behind pumped his shotgun again and walked to the injured crocodile, shooting it once more to kill it off, pumping the shotgun yet once more. He stood six-foot tall with a rough, almost menacing glare, charcoal-colored hair, indigo-colored eyes that gave an impression of hiding disturbed thoughts behind, a more-than-noticeably large nose, and about two-weeks overdue with shaving.

 

“That’s my shotgun, for your information,” Cesare said, looking at this complete stranger.

 

“So it is,” the man replied, handing over the weapon. “And you were the one being saved with it, not the other way around.”

 

Cesare scowled.

 

“Just be glad it wasn’t a woman who saved you. You’d never see the end of it if others were to find out…” The man laughed lightly, looking no less intimidating while he chuckled away.

 

Another rustling sound came from out of the reeds thirty feet away. A second crocodile, possibly the mate, came rushing for Cesare and the man.

 

Cesare aimed with the gun and fired, missing the shot by a few inches. Angrily, Cesare pumped the shotgun again, and aimed for the creature again. He fired, again missing the shot by a matter of inches, pumping the shotgun once more.

 

Suddenly, the man snatched the weapon out of Cesare’s hands and took aim at the crocodile, shooting, and hitting the creature directly. In seconds, the crocodile finished twitching and died in place. Cesare looked up at the stranger with a face of resentment.

 

“Are you with the expedition? If so, I just hope you know that I spoke with Julio Delaguerra – he trusts me with handling the weapons.” Cesare knew this was a lie – he had never actually spoken with Julio Delaguerra directly, but he wanted to keep hold of his weapons on the trip.

 

“He trusts you?!” the man almost burst out laughing. “We’ll see what he has to say about this when he gets here…”

 

Cesare was on the verge of boiling.

 

“Only there’s one problem with waiting for that,” the man continued, straightening his cap. “I’m already here.”

 

Cesare seemed no less angry, but his anger was hidden by more sudden feelings of surprise, half in realization of who this was, and half in realizing he had lied directly to the same guy he talked about.

 

“You certainly seemed surprised. Didn’t you know I’d be the one leading the expedition? And if that were so, wouldn’t I have to be one of the first ones to get here? Or do you feel some guilt about the story you told me?”

 

“Julio Delaguerra,” Cesare began, ignoring him. “The Spanish-born Canadian war-hero, father of four spoiled kids, owner of a five-thousand square-foot mansion in Monaco, married to actress Kalie Bouchard, world-renowned archaeologist who built his career in six years. And all achieved it by the age of thirty-two… I should’ve recognized you when you first arrived – I should’ve known you’d be an ass.”

 

“Actually, thirty-three as of October 7th,” the man corrected. “And it’s Kalie Delaguerra to you… Also, had I been a pushover instead of an ass, I’d never have reached the top.” He smiled mischievously, raising an eyebrow. “But enough about me. Since I’m here, I presume you have some questions?”

 

“Just one. What’s the plan?”

 

“Simple,” Delaguerra began. “I keep hold of the gun until the end of the expedition, and you listen to my orders.”

 

“This isn’t the military, dammit!” Cesare retorted. “You need to quit treating this like it is!”

 

“Remember who’s paying you to go on this trip.” Delaguerra’s eyebrows rose again. “I could always halve your share… And ahh, the military… Its hold on me has never gone away…”

 

“Its hold?” Cesare looked surprised again. “What the heck are you talking about?”

 

“Nothing that need concern you,” Delaguerra replied. “Just get some sleep already… You’ll definitely need the energy for…”

 

Cesare looked behind Delaguerra to the camp, noticing something he hadn’t seen before.

 

“What the heck is that?” Cesare pointed, interrupting Delaguerra.

 

“What the…?” Delaguerra looked around in the direction Cesare pointed. “Oh, that… Some weird lady at the airport told me to take it. Said it was a brochure of sorts…”

 

“That doesn’t look like any brochure I’ve ever seen before… Since when did they make them out of pitch blue without pictures of any sort…” He began to walk toward it.

 

“Don’t tell me you’re that easily distracted…”

 

Cesare decided to ignore him and investigate the “brochure”, as Delaguerra had called it…

 

 

[jaosals42]

James Ninow, his brother Jim, and a friend, Mark Klein, had spent all afternoon the day before preparing to go fishing in the pleasant spring weather now at the shockingly early hour of three-thirty in the morning. James and Jim Ninow were both black, natives to Cape Town, tall and well-built who sold fish at the markets to get their living. Mark, their friend was red-headed, white, and native to Anchorage. Tired of the long, dreary winters and suspicious policies of the Alaskan state government, Mark decided to move to the more pleasant climate of South Africa. While he worked a fairly good living as a technician, Mark enjoyed fishing as a hobby and source of backup income.

 

The boat the set out on, called "Dolphin," was a fairly old ship, but it was reliable and always seemed to fetch the desired catch that Jim and James always sought. It valued a lot to the Ninow's sentimentally, though they knew that eventually to move on to things that brought them more income.

 

"Alright Jim," James began, checking the ship's lights one last time, "When I give the signal, lower the net, 'kay?"

 

"Right, brother," Jim responded, checking the net one last time as well.

 

"Good. Mark, do you have the tubs cleaned and ready?"

 

"Yep," Mark replied, nodding slightly.

 

"Then on the count of three. One… two… three!"

 

The net immediately shot down into the water, greatly losing velocity upon hitting the water's surface and sinking progressively slower. After about thirty seconds of having been lowered, Jim held the net at that particular altitude and left it there for about a minute.

 

Mark pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "How long you suggest we keep the net down this time?"

 

"Just a moment this first time. There seems to not be a lot of activity in the water for some strange reason. Far less than normal…"

 

"Strange," Jim commented. "Think it has something to do with that oil spill recently?"

 

"Not likely," James replied. "That was out on the eastern coast, many hundreds of miles away… Jim, pull it up! Mark, get the tub ready!"

 

"On it," they both replied.

 

The net slowly rose from under the water, one foot at a time. Despite the possibility that there may not be much of a catch, James remained optimistic. After all, since when did their boat let them down.

 

However, when the net lifted above the water to eye-level of the three guys, they were greeted with a most terrifying sight: pretty much all of the fish in their catch were dead, having been decaying for what must have been weeks now. A foul stench filled the air and all of James and his friends' hopes were destroyed.

 

"What on earth could have caused this?" Mark questioned, looking at the mobile graveyard with complete dismay.

 

"Someone must have dumped trash here," Jim replied.

 

"Correction – people have been dumping trash here," Jim remarked. "There's no way to blame this much trash on one person…" He pulled out a pair of gloves from a chest beside him and reached in the net's contents, pulling out several plastic bags, metal cans, half-eaten decayed food and tossed it all into a nearby trash bag.

 

James sighed. "Dump the contents into the buckets. I'll join you guys shortly." He walked off to the cabin of the boat and began sifting through the mail he had picked up earlier, in which, a strange blue letter surfaced from the stack.

[species5478]

Nice...I read this last night but didn't have the time to post a comment so I'd like to say now, that I hope you continue to share your impressive work.

[jaosals42]

Thanks, species http://thenexusforums.com/public/style_emoticons/Dark/smile.gif

 

 

Eight-thirty. Francisco's meeting would surely have begun by now. Lina turned on the television right this moment to get to see her favorite show on one of the local food channels.

 

"After being on the plane flight for ten hours from Nashville, I've arrived here, in Rome, Italy," said the program's host, Carmel Johnson, a middle-age man gone half-bald. "Now that we're here, let's go food-seeing. My mouth is already beginning to water! So what are we waiting for – Let's eat!"

 

Lina began chopping up a few fat plantains, which she planned to add to her yellow rice base. Chorizo, mussels, scallops, and pork were added to the main plate, and, on the side for her and her mother, squid. She left the behind in the kitchen food to cook while she went to the living area of the house to watch the television.

 

"Now don't you think that's a beautiful sight?" Carmel Johnson asked the audience on the television, standing in front of some ancient ruins. "The Coliseum – most famous landmark here in Rome and one of the wonders of the ancient world. Currently, I'm getting to a stop to board a bus heading to a café that some English-speaking locals told me is great with its pastries."

 

The television blacked out and the commercials began. Knowing it'd be about seven minutes till the channel returned to the program and far longer for the food to be ready, Lina decided to get the mail.

 

She picked up a light jacket and went outside. The air was considerably cooler now than it was a couple hours before, with a progressively stronger wind picking up. While it was dark, Lina could tell the sky was covered in clouds. A storm was on its way. Hopefully it wouldn't start raining till after she got back to the apartment.

 

A moment later at the bottom of the staircases, Lina walked to the mailbox and opened the compartment dedicated to hers and Francisco's apartment. She reached in and grabbed a small stack of varied letters and papers, then held them under her arm and walked back. The wind picked up even more rapidly and almost caused her to lose hold of a few pieces of mail. She got back just in time to the apartment as immediately afterward, the rain began – lightly at first.

 

The program immediately began after she placed the mail down on the coffee table in the living area. She began to search through it for interesting mail while diverting some attention to the program on the television as well.

Immediately, lightning flashed and the electricity went out. Shocked, Lina immediately grabbed the flashlight on the edge of the table and turned it on. She continued to sift through the mail with the aid of the flashlight when suddenly she came across a blue letter. Seeing as it was the only piece of mail that actually might not be junk, she opened it up intriguingly, pulling out a folded, blue piece of paper with yellow writing.

 

 

To: Mr. Francisco and Lina Mercedes.

 

From: Pordenta Jreksiveri'i

 

 

Lina was shocked – Pordenta Jreksiveri'i? Her heart was pounding while her hand laid over the letter. Immediately, the power flickered a bit and came back on. She ran to turn off everything, smelling the food burning and commercials blaring. Then, she returned to the couch and sank down in place, continuing to read the letter. Outside, the rain began to truly pour down as the lights settled.

 

 

In large letters was written…

 

[jaosals42]

Some more. Not recent stuff I worked on, but I have been busy with school to post much here.

 

 

 

I know once you start reading this, and see my name written on it, that you will probably be astonished … Do not be concerned –Many other people, to whom I have written in the past several years, were themselves surprised. I know of the many things you and others have likely heard about us Olvusulthians. Some of what is said is true, while much is not. Regardless, hear my words. You’ve received this letter, as I believe I can trust you. Pack your smaller, more-valuable belongings, all of that which you treasure. You likely won’t be returning home for some time. Peace in your world will not last much longer. The signs are everywhere – this world is failing as it is, societies at war, poverty skyrocketing, economies failing, tensions mounting. You have to get out of your life if you wish to remain safe. I assure you that I’m not crazy, though I’ll admit to being different compared to most people.

 

 

Due to this likely outbreak of war, I’m inviting you to live in a safe haven. One you could shelter in. Five years of feuding has occurred particularly between President Nale and me; I fear that he may not be mentally stable anymore and could do anything that might insinuate great retaliation. I understand this may seem sudden and suspicious, a lot for your to absorb at the moment, but please – you have to trust me. To say the chances of a war will occur seems far greater than the chance it will not. It’ll be beyond what you have imagined yet, and more danger is bound to follow.

 

Shelter here in Olvusulthia for your own sake. It’s the only place that may remain at all on the world. You and I and the Olvusulthians, we’re in this together. We must work together. We must stay together. Solitude is unwise. For your sake, leave the troubles of the world and come to Olvusulthia. I would not recommend you moving to Switzerland, even if you could afford to do so; its centralized location makes it an unsafe place to take refuge in – Even its neutrality is a thin illusion and could fade with one wrong move. Should you choose to take refuge here, your pre-paid plane flights to Nashville, in the United States leave on the next noon in your time zone. This is very sudden, I’m aware of that, but you have more time now than you ever will if the enemy comes knocking on the front door. Please do not concern yourselves with the tickets (They are attached on the back). Simply accept my warm welcome to our Olvusulthia.

 

 

PS: Do not concern yourself with your jobs. Just get you and any nearby family you may have out of there and leave with the plane. Everything will be taken care of in due time. And if I may make one final request: If you can, take this letter and destroy it – it matters not how you do it, so long as any evidence of its existence is removed.

 

 

[jaosals42]

Chapter II

 

 

 

Lina’s mind was clouded in thoughts. Questions poured into her mind shortly thereafter and competed for attention. Was the note real or fraud? Was it from Pordenta Jreksiveri’i himself or from someone else? Why did Jreksiveri’i trust her of all people if she was normal – just like anyone else…?

 

“I can’t go…” she said solemnly to herself and the air. “I have everything here: friends, family, Francisco, all my memories…”

 

She suddenly remembered the crash that killed her father many years back in the mountain cliffs. The memory made her sigh. Unconsciously, she felt a bit more inclined to taking the invitation offer, though consciously she didn’t want to.

 

“But Francisco needs to stay here to stay here. He wouldn’t be able to find another job that easily that made good money,” she said softly. “Getting that job of his was hard enough with the economy and fellow competition…”

 

Then she remembered that Olvusulthia didn’t have a monetary system, or so common belief said… No money needed in times like these…? Maybe it was worth chancing for never having to deal with the stress following constant rent bills and whatnot.

 

And didn’t Jreksiveri’i say that a war could erupt? The signs were definitely there: Poor economy, rift in the European Union and UN, hunger again on the rise, social issues returning, poor division of the wealth, constant riots and terrorist attacks…

 

She couldn’t make a final decision now. She would have to wait for Francisco to return from the bank. They’d have a few hours before sleeping to decide whether it was a good idea to go or not, and if so, what they would take.

 

She returned to the kitchen and managed to salvage what she could of the dinner for tomorrow… should she be here the next day…

 

 

 

“I’m sorry about the inconvenience,” said a woman walking alongside a droopy Francisco. “But even Mr. Durán couldn’t have predicted this before the stocks’ plunge the day before yesterday. I’m sorry he had to let you of all executives go…”

 

“I’m not angry,” he replied. “Just more worried than anything.”

 

“Francisco, you need to keep trying. I’m sure there’s another position of equal pay or such in town if you look around a bit.”

 

“I’d like to believe that, Karla,” Francisco replied. “But I don’t have much hope for such an outcome.”

 

“Francisco,” the woman continued, “You know that if I could do more to help you, I would. But probably better that you’re one of the first to be laid-off so you’re one of the first to find another job. The economy’s only going to get worse for now…”

 

“Don’t make me feel worse than I already do.”

 

“…I’m sorry, Francisco. I just wish I could do more.”

 

“I know that. I wish you could as well. I’m more worried about Lina though.”

 

“Why, exactly?”

 

“She’s going to learn very quickly that I was ‘fired’. It’s going to become very difficult, if even possible at all for us to keep up with our rent. I don’t know how long it is till Lina loses her own job as well. Then we’ll definitely be on the street.”

 

“Why not just borrow a low-interest loan till you find another job? It’ll give you something to hang onto for a bit.”

 

“Sorry Karla, but no,” Francisco replied. “They always have some sort of ‘secret’ trick or two hidden away in the fine print, and who knows how long till I find the job before I can finally keep up with the payments for that. Next thing you know, the police are banging on my door as I can’t keep up with paying for a loan as well as the rent for my apartment… And I’m not bothering with filing for bankruptcy again like I did several years back. I can’t afford to damage my credit anymore…”

 

“Police… You really have a pessimistic overview of the situation, don’t you Francisco?”

 

“And I’m sure you wouldn’t?”

 

“Just keep waiting… There’s going to be something good in the end for you all. Trust me.”

 

Francisco nodded forcibly, fixing his hair. “I’d better get going home then and handle this with Lina as early as possible. The more I wait, the worse it’ll be.”

 

“Francisco, please,” Karla ended. “Just don’t lose faith yet.”

 

Francisco practically ignored her as he entered the car and quickly drove away back to their apartment and prepared to tell Lina the news. Karla, becoming just as disheartened, walked back into the bank to escape the freezing rain.

 

 

[jaosals42]

"For goodness sake!" exclaimed Mary. "What am I going to do? First of all, I have neither Gianna nor Juan nor my husband with me right now. Second, what'll happen to our poor Georgie Walker? Poor dog – I can't leave him behind like that! Third, what are we going to do away from our friends?"

 

"It's possible they may have been invited too, you know," Ana replied. "If I remember correctly, the letter said for us not to worry too much about things back here. And it said we could bring nearby family…"

"Of course…!" Mary retorted. "Is a friend the same thing as close family?"

"I'm pretty sure good friends are close enough to being considered so…"

"You really do take this seriously… Do you know how much plane tickets cost? We may be lucky in that we might not have to pay a thing. Can't say the same for anyone else."

 

Ana sighed, knowing that her attempts to change Mary's feelings had failed.

"Ana," Mary said shortly enough. "Could you go and get my phone?"

"Where did you leave it, Mary?"

Mary shook her head in discontentment. "Same place as always, Ana… The top of the drawer in mine and Cesare's room…"

"Sorry," Ana apologized. "I'll go and get it right now." She left the kitchen for the bedroom, leaving Mary and her dog, George Walker, alone in the kitchen. Staring at the dog, it was obvious to her that the he had been messing around in the yard earlier.

 

"Georgie, were you dirtying yourself under a bush again?" Mary inquired the animal. "Look at you – you're filthy! I should give you a bath right here and now…"

Ana walked back into the room, red cell-phone in hand.

"Give who a bath?" Ana wondered.

"The dog. Who else would need to 'be given' one?"

"Oh. Well, here you go." Ana handed the phone over. "Who are you calling, by the way?"

"Lina."

 

"M'kay." Ana began to grab her car keys and purse. "Well, I should be getting home right now. Prepare my things just in case. You always know where you can reach me – Au revoir, Marie!"

Mary nodded lightly, watching Ana leave the house shortly after. Soon enough, the phone on the other end of the line was picked up.

"Lina," she began, nervously and unconsciously fidgeting with her fingers. "You know… I got a weird message in the mail this evening. It's from that Olvusulthia place. According to it, I was invited to there to live and shelter during some war that Pordenta Jrek-something (I've never been able to say his name right) mentioned might happen. I don't think I'll take the offer and leave you guys behind but… You what?"

Mary stood in place, breathless.

 

"Oh, my god!!" she exclaimed. "You also got one of these?!" a few seconds passed.

"Huh? Oh yes… I'm fine. Don't… don't you worry. It's just this is so unexpected! I'm just concerned about the dog and especially my children – they're so far away, in Chicago as you know! I'm going to call them, see if maybe they also got one of these letters. Frankly, if they got a letter and end up going, I'll have to leave with them too – I'm not living here while my kids live by themselves in some faraway country. Either way, I'll manage to join up with them again. Lina, if I go, I wish you well here. You know my family and I will miss you… Anyway, before this turns into a pity-fest, I should call up the kids and then hope Cesarito isn't to grumpy to be called. I'll call you later then after I deal with these few things then. Love you, girl – call you later…"

Mary shook her head, hanging up the phone.

"What were the chances… It almost seems planned…"

She dialed yet another number on the phone.

"Hello? Roberto? Marianna?"