The Gates of Winter - Mark Anthony [103]
A jolt of fear coursed through Travis. What had Professor Sparkman said? Something about how a chain reaction, if nothing stopped it, could go on forever. . . .
Travis swallowed the sickness in his throat, then put the Stones back into their iron box and shoved it into his pocket. He started trudging down the bike path.
What are you going to do now, Travis?
“I don't know, Jack.” He felt tired and hollow. “I can't destroy the Stones, and I can't take them back to Eldh. And if I try to leave Denver to find the gate they've created, Duratek will catch me.”
By Durnach's Hammer, what are you talking about, Travis? Didn't you hear the voices on the contraption your scholar friend was listening to this morning?
Travis shook his head. What was Jack talking about? The voices on Sparkman's receiver hadn't said anything that could help him, though they had belonged to Duratek agents—he was sure of that. No one else on Earth would make a communications code out of Eldhish words—
He stopped in his tracks.
Eldhish words. He had set the silver half-coin down, then had listened to them speak something in a mixture of English and Eldhish. He wracked his brain, trying to remember.
They said they were heading to the taldaka location, Jack said. And they also made mention of a senlath.
The silver half-coin, in his pocket now, worked its magic, translating the Eldhish words. Senlath meant priest. And taldaka was . . .
“Gate,” Travis murmured. “They were talking about the gate. It's not somewhere else in the world. It's here in Denver.”
Which meant there was a way to stop Duratek after all.
Hope rekindled in Travis, bringing with it new energy. He started moving once more, jogging along the river path. “I have to go see Sparkman again, Jack. I have to listen to his receiver and monitor their transmissions. If I do, maybe I can learn exactly where in Denver they've hidden the gate.”
Very well, Travis. But do be careful. Night is coming soon, and it's not safe to be out alone in this city.
“It's all right, Jack. I'll be meeting up with . . .” What were Jay and Marty? He had only met them last night, so they couldn't be friends, could they? “. . . with some guys I know. We'll stick together.”
This seemed to satisfy the voice in Travis's mind, and it stayed quiet as he headed back downtown and caught the free shuttle up Sixteenth Street. Dusk was falling by the time he reached Civic Center Park. Columns glowed in the half-light, like the bones of a ruined Greek temple. He searched around and saw two figures—one tall, one short—near the center of the park. Travis hurried over to them.
“Dammit!” Jay jumped around. “You shouldn't sneak up on a guy like that. Especially not when people have been disappearing. I practically shot out of my skin.”
“Sorry,” Travis mumbled. He always forgot others didn't see so well in gloom as he did.
“So,” Jay said, “did you get your thing done today, whatever the hell it was?”
“Not exactly.” Travis looked around. “Where's Professor Sparkman?”
Jay shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don't give a rat's ass where that nut job is. Maybe the voices told him to whack his head off this time. Anyway, it's going to be a cold night, so let's get a move on before all the good spots are taken.”
Travis gazed around the shadowed park, but he saw no sign of a wheelchair.
“We can come find him tomorrow,” Marty said in his slow voice. “He'll be here once the sun is up.”
They headed back to the viaduct by the river where they had spent the previous night but found it already taken—though the new occupants were having no better luck starting a fire than Jay and Marty had. Travis started to move forward, to help, but Jay grabbed his arm.
“You don't know those guys, Travis. They