It took him most of the day to descend to the valley floor. Reaching the cabin in the late afternoon, he took a short nap and then made himself an early supper. After eating, he sat in the rocking chair on the porch, grateful for the evening breeze.
Looking out at the empty valley, Bob considered his situation. Loneliness weighed on his thoughts. Mentally reaching out to Ally, he received no response. Although he had continued wearing the mnibit, it had rested lifeless on his head during his sojourn in this place. Bob wished Ally would awaken; he wanted to talk to someone. Watching the sun go down, he remained in the rocking chair until it was dark. Getting up, he reentered the cabin and went to bed.
In the morning, Bob summoned breakfast and then new rations to fill his pack. Setting out from the cabin, he determined to circumnavigate the lake, exploring the valley floor. Walking along the water's edge, he considered names for his new residence: Bookville, Lake Place, Cholgathian Prison, Magic Valley. With some amusement, he settled on Boblandia.
Reaching the small stream he had followed into the hills, he jumped over it, naming it Cabin Creek as he leapt. Continuing along the narrow beach, he hadn't gone far when a dark smudge in the distance caught his attention. As he drew closer, the smudge became a set of footprints in the mud. He looked around, but saw no one in the vicinity.
Bob approached the footprints slowly, taking care to not disturb the ground. Someone wearing boots had walked to the lake, stood on the shoreline and then retreated back the way they had come. Bob wondered how much time had passed since the stranger had been there. The prints were distinct, but didn't appear as if they were newly made. Peering back down the shore, Bob noticed the cabin was in plain view.
Turning, Bob followed the prints up the hill, away from the lake, staying to one side to avoid treading on them. The sparse grass did little to hide the marks on the ground. As he walked, Bob measured his own stride against that of the stranger. The stranger's prints were slightly farther apart than his own.
Nearing the foothills, Bob checked his surroundings frequently. He wondered who else could be here. The Cholgathian who had captured him? Another prisoner like himself? A native of Boblandia?
The footprints led into a narrow canyon and then stopped suddenly at the base of a smooth wall. Bob could see very few handholds in the sheer rock face. He was sure he couldn't climb it. Hoping to find an alternate route to he top, he examined the walls of the canyon. While he studied the rugged terrain and attempted to be alert to indications of other life, he gradually became aware of a familiar sensation.
"Ally?" he queried.
"Yes, Boss?"
"Hey, where have you been?"
"It appears my ability to communicate has been blocked until now."
"What has changed?"
"I'm no longer detecting signal interference."
Stepping away from the rock face, Bob started up the canyon. As he did so, contact with the mnibit seemed to fade.
"Ally?" he prompted fruitlessly.
He walked back to the point where the footprints terminated.
"Ally?"
"Yes, Boss?"
"This is a strange spot," Bob thought to himself.
"There's a door there." Ally responded.
"What do you mean?" Bob asked.
"You can't detect the door visually," the mnibit replied. "But it's transmission identifies it as HD-12938-NOMON-999812."
"Doors transmit identifiers?" the earthman mentally queried.
"Most mechanical things do." Ally quipped.
"Can you open it?" Bob inquired.
"It reports that it is locked." Ally answered.
"Can you unlock it?"
"Normally that would be prohibited. But since you removed my security interlock, I have no restraint."
"See if you can unlock the door."
Ally was quiet for a few moments and then a crack appeared in the rock wall. It widened as the door swung inward revealing a short tunnel leading to a small, well-lit room. Stepping over the threshold, Bob peered into the chamber. A metallic disk occupied the center of the space.
"What is it?" he queried.
"It's a Cholgathian teleporter." Ally responded.
"Where will it take me?"
"Unknown"
Striding forward, Bob stepped onto the disk. He didn't want to be a prisoner, he wanted to go home. The world tilted a little to one side and he vanished.
Copyright (C) 2018 Winslow Williams. All rights reserved.
