Black Sun Rising

Chapter Seventeen

Sam woke up parched. His eyelashes were matted together and all in all, he felt as though he had been gently baked in an industrial oven. He rolled his aching body over and felt around for his waterskin. It was only half full, but it was enough to take the edge off the ache in his throat. He pushed a hand deep into his backpack, looking for the packet of cigarettes that he had stashed there. In all his many years of waking up hung over, he couldn't remember a time when he had felt quite as rough as this. Not since the last time he—

Right. Of course, he thought as he failed to find his smokes. Not since the last time I tried to quit smoking. That'll be it. Gingerly, he eased himself into a sitting position. His back twinged in a rather disconcerting way, apparently determined to remind him that forty was not far off.

"Good morning, Sam," said Purdue. He was sitting at the other side of the teepee, his knees pulled close to his chest. The folding tablet lay on the blanket beside him, showing the front page of the newspaper Le Monde's website. "You were starting to worry me."

"Why's that?"

"Because you've been asleep for the best part of twenty-four hours. It seems that something in the water didn't agree with you."

"What are you talking about?" Julia Rose was unconvinced. "Sam was just tired. And it's not like he's the only one who slept a long time after the Vision Quest. Plenty of people did. Sara said it happens all the time. It's how some people respond to an intense emotional experience."

Purdue peered at her over the top of his glasses. "Indeed, Miss Gaultier. It's also how many people respond to the aftereffects of hallucinogenic drugs."

Julia Rose rolled her eyes. "Some people just can't handle the idea of an experience they don't know how to explain. You know, if all you saw was darkness, you should really talk to Sara about that. She'd be happy to help you."

"Please, don't think that I do not appreciate your concern, Julia Rose," Purdue adopted his most dismissively polite tone. "But I am perfectly capable of managing my own 'spiritual journey.' Far from seeing darkness, I spent that hour having a most pleasant sleep, during which I dreamed that I was falling from a great height — which is, of course, one of the most common dreams known to humankind and generally indicative of the dreamer being concerned about maintaining control of his own life. You can probably imagine why a man in my position might have such a dream. Admittedly, it is one that I have infrequently, but I do not spend a great deal of time worrying about it when I do."

As exhausted and sore as he was, Sam struggled not to laugh as he saw Julia Rose scowl. He felt a little sorry for her — being on the receiving end of one of Purdue's polite put-downs was not an enjoyable experience — but she had walked straight into it, and it would be a valuable learning experience for an aspiring journalist. She was not yet good enough at this game to come up with a sharp retort, so instead she pulled her boots on and went for breakfast.

"Sustaining yourself by crushing hopeful spirits?" Sam inquired, "or just not hungry?"

"Neither," said Purdue. "I'm sure Julia Rose will encounter more difficult people than me in her quest for journalistic glory. Assuming, of course, that she does not decide on a change of career and offer herself as Sara Stromer's latest acolyte."

"Sara does seem to have made quite an impression on her, doesn't she?" Sam mused. "It's funny. She seemed so hardheaded when I first met her, but there's definitely some hero worship going on there. Still, that doesn't answer my second question. Aren't you going to come and have breakfast?"

Purdue shook his head. "The diet here is not to my taste. Fortunately, I anticipated this and brought supplies of my own." Reaching into his bag, he produced a couple of cereal bars. "Would you care for one? I realize that they are not what you would choose either, but you might prefer them to what's offered here. I would certainly urge you to have one just now. You'll recover far quicker than if you eat the connection tent fare."

I never thought I'd meet someone who was even more scathing about all this vegan hippy food than me, Sam thought. He accepted the cereal bar and tore off its wrapper. Through a mouthful of dry, oat mush he said "So you really think there were drugs on the go during the Vision Quest?"

"It wouldn't surprise me," Purdue shrugged, flicking idly through the headlines on his tablet. "Most of these types of quests appear to get their results either through mood-altering substances or through some kind of mass hysteria. I can't imagine how they could be effective otherwise."

"I don't know," said Sam. "I would have said the same thing, but I must admit, I've been quite surprised by this thing. I'm still not convinced by their talk of bringing everyone together in some kind of massive, worldwide connection orgy — but they might be onto something when it comes to, I don't know… paying attention to the things around us, stuff like that." He felt foolish the moment he stopped talking. "I don't know. It's just not as excruciating as I thought it might be."

"You might change your mind about that 'worldwide connection orgy,' as you put it." A tiny smile played around the corners of Purdue's mouth. "I think they might surprise you."

"What do you know?" Sam grinned, despite himself. Purdue's games were infuriating, but he could never quite resist being intrigued. "Is there something you haven't told me about all this?"

The small smile gave way to Purdue's customary smirk. "Oh, Sam," he said, "so much — as ever."

They had barely finished their cereal bars when Kai, Purdue's bodyguard, appeared at the tent flap. "Incoming, sir. Cignetti-Dwyer."

Purdue did not pause to reply but immediately folded the tablet down to its smallest size. He reached forward and snatched up Sam's discarded wrapper, inserted the tablet and folded the plastic so that the whole thing appeared to be nothing but a half-consumed cereal bar. He shoved the little package into a side pocket of Sam's backpack, and then dived back into his previous position as if nothing at all had happened.

"No, I haven't heard from him in some time," Purdue said, as Cody came into the tent, "but do give him my regards if he contacts you again. How is he? Back in Siberia?"

For a moment Sam was confused. Who are we talking about? he wondered. Ah, right — Alexandr. Got it.

"Yeah, for now," he improvised. "He said that's why he hasn't been in touch for a while. He's living on the side of some mountain out there and the nearest net connection is days away. I'll tell him you said hello when I write back."

"Please, do. Oh!" Purdue reacted with surprise to Cody's presence. "I'm so sorry, I didn't hear you come in. What can we do for you, Mr. Cignetti-Dwyer?"

"No need to be so formal," Cody's permanent, gentle, understanding smile looked slightly strained. "You can call me Cody. I just wanted to come and check on Sam here. You ok, buddy?"

I was until you called me buddy. Sam bit his tongue and swallowed that response. "Yeah, I'm fine. Again. Thanks."

"It sounded like you had quite the vision," said Cody. "When we brought you back here you were kind of out of it, but you were talking a little bit about chasing something — hunters and leaders and searching for something. I guess you saw the hunt?"

For a moment Sam's brain thrust him back into that strange, intense experience. He saw the sweat-soaked bodies crowded around him and the ominous shine of knives being held aloft in the moonlight. Could that really have been nothing more than a dream? It had felt so incredibly real, yet Sam knew that it was something he would never have taken part in. "… Yes," he said uncertainly, "I did. But I don't know, maybe I wouldn't have dreamed about that if Sara hadn't mentioned it beforehand."

"Hey, it's possible," Cody spread his hands in a noncommittal, vaguely agreeable gesture. "If you don't think it means anything for you, just let it go. If you do, maybe you should see where it leads. That's the other reason I'm here. There's a separate ceremony tonight for the people who saw the hunt. Wanna come?"

Sam got the impression that this was not really a request so much as a mandatory event. He nodded, feeling his hot eyeballs protest at the movement in his head.

"Great!" Cody clapped his hands together in a gesture that was a little too loud for Sam's liking at that moment. "I guess I'll see you there, then. Oh, and there was one other thing, while I'm here. We're just making sure that everybody is getting the full experience of cutting off from the outside world, so if either of you has anything you forgot to hand in, any phones or laptops or whatnot, you can give them to me now and I promise, there'll be no judgment. It's easily done — especially for a guy with as many gadgets as you, Dave! God, I'd be more surprised if you didn't forget to hand something in!"

Purdue arched a single eyebrow. "I seldom forget anything," he said. "But rest assured, Mr. Cignetti-Dwyer, so far I am not aware that I have forgotten to give to you any devices of mine. If I find that there is anything that slipped my mind, you can be certain that I will pass it on."

Judging by the look Cody was trying to wipe off his face, Sam came to the conclusion that he knew about the tablet. Why can't he just ask for it outright? Sam wondered. I don't think he'd have a problem doing that for any of the rest of us. And it can't be just a money thing — there must be people here who are as insanely rich as Purdue, and I don't see Cody pestering them for their stuff. Something is preventing him from pushing too hard. I wonder what it is…

Cody did not say another word, but smiled and bowed out of the tent. Kai held out his hand to Sam for the tablet, which he took charge of.

"Good thinking, Kai," said Purdue when he was sure Cody was safely out of earshot. "Keep it in your possession for the rest of the day — I will reclaim it tonight, otherwise insomnia will be even less bearable than usual." Kai nodded, turned on his heel and left.

"I knew there was someone who didn't end up in our tent," said Sam, kicking himself for missing the detail earlier. "Where's he sleeping?"

"The tent opposite," said Purdue. "It gives him a broader field of fire, should his talents as bodyguard be required. Besides, I prefer to keep my distance where I can. The constant companionship does grow rather tedious, and presumably that works both ways. He is also a more useful spy if he can see who is approaching the tent and let me know with a little warning. In fact, it can be—" He broke off as Nina entered, looking somewhat subdued.

"I was just down at the river," she said, barely pausing to greet the two men, "when it struck me — has anyone seen that Hunter guy since last night?"