NOVEL NEXT Chapter 64: Ten Days
The campfire crackled softly against the twilight that marked another day's end outside the Viraldean Temple. Ten days of this routine had worn grooves into the routine that Alfred Montclair and Thorne Ackerman had established - careful rationing, systematic patrol schedules, and the kind of professional vigilance that kept expedition members alive when circumstances demanded extended isolation in hostile territory.
Thorne stirred the flames with a charred stick, his weathered face reflecting firelight that danced across features marked by decades of dangerous work. His spatial ring yielded another portion of rations that represented increasingly precious resources as their supplies dwindled toward levels that would soon demand difficult decisions about mission continuation versus survival necessities.
"Day ten," he announced with the matter-of-fact tone that had marked his daily record-keeping since their teammates disappeared behind the temple's massive doors. "Still no signal from the interior team. Still no indication whether they're alive or dead."
Alfred sat across from him in silence that had become as familiar as the routine itself, his Master+ presence radiating controlled tension despite his outwardly calm demeanor. The Montclair operative consumed his own rations with mechanical precision that suggested someone whose thoughts were focused on matters extending far beyond immediate survival concerns.
"Twenty days," Thorne continued, his voice carrying memories of conversations that had shaped their current circumstances. "That's what Lyralei said during our final briefing. If they're not out in twenty days, we either leave without them or attempt entry ourselves."
He gestured toward their diminishing supplies with practical assessment that came from years managing expedition logistics under adverse conditions. "Our rations will last maybe fifteen days if we maintain current consumption rates. Twelve days if we reduce portions to survival minimums. Either way, we'll face critical decisions before the full deadline arrives."
The calculation hung between them like a physical presence, carrying implications that neither wanted to acknowledge directly. Their teammates might be fighting for their lives somewhere in the temple's maze-like interior while the people responsible for their extraction faced mathematical limitations that could force abandonment before rescue became possible.
Alfred finally spoke, his cultured voice carrying undertones that suggested careful consideration of factors extending beyond immediate tactical concerns. "The temple's systems could have eliminated them within hours of entry. Alternatively, they might be facing trials that require extended time to complete successfully. Without communication capabilities, speculation serves little purpose beyond undermining morale."
"Still," Thorne pressed, his veteran instincts making him seek any insight that might provide context for their extended isolation. "Your family's archives must contain information about previous expedition timelines. How long do successful temple explorations typically require?"
The question touched on subjects that Alfred's cover identity couldn't address without revealing knowledge that would compromise his carefully maintained deception. His response carried the practiced evasion that had marked their interactions throughout the extended waiting period.
"Historical records regarding temple exploration remain classified according to agreements that predate my involvement in expedition planning," he replied with diplomatic precision that revealed nothing while appearing cooperative. "I can only observe that current circumstances fall within parameters that various contingency protocols were designed to address."
Thorne absorbed this non-answer with resignation that came from ten days of similar attempts to extract meaningful information from someone whose professional training had obviously prepared him to maintain operational security under sustained questioning.
The first few days had been different, marked by external pressures that demanded coordinated response to survive. Creatures drawn by their presence had tested their defensive capabilities through probing attacks that escalated into genuine threats requiring lethal response. But Alfred's telepathic abilities had proven devastatingly effective for managing such encounters, his mind-reading capabilities allowing them to detect approaching dangers long before conventional senses could provide warning.
"Remember the pack that approached on day three?" Thorne asked, his tone carrying appreciation mixed with lingering curiosity about capabilities that exceeded normal classification. "Twelve Brelgorns moving in perfect coordination, close enough that engagement was inevitable. Then they just... stopped. Turned around and left without explanation."
Alfred's expression showed the first hint of genuine response he had displayed since their conversation began. "Telepathic suggestion proved sufficient to convince them that easier prey could be found elsewhere. Most creatures respond to mental pressure when properly applied, though the technique requires careful calibration to avoid triggering aggressive defensive responses."
The admission was the most specific information about his capabilities that Alfred had shared during their entire isolation period, though it raised more questions than it answered about the true scope of what Montclair family telepathy could accomplish when wielded by someone of his obvious competence.
"Day four through seven were peaceful," Thorne continued, his mental review of their shared experience serving as much to organize his own thoughts as to encourage conversation from someone whose professional reticence had proven nearly impenetrable. "No major encounters, no signs of hostile intent from local wildlife. Your influence?"
"Partly," Alfred acknowledged with characteristic reluctance to provide detailed explanation. "Word spreads among pack hunters when certain territories become associated with dangerous opposition. Killing the initial attackers established our presence as a threat worth avoiding rather than a resource worth claiming."
The logic was sound, though Thorne suspected there were additional factors that Alfred's explanation didn't address. His own combat capabilities were formidable, but not sufficient to deter every creature that might view their campsite as opportunity rather than danger. Something about Alfred's presence created deterrent effects that exceeded what normal telepathic suggestion should accomplish.
"Days eight and nine were monitoring and maintenance," Thorne said, continuing his review while watching for any reaction that might provide insights into his companion's true agenda. "Equipment checks, perimeter security, observation of the temple's external systems for signs of change or activity."
This period had been particularly frustrating for someone whose demolitions expertise made him focus on structural analysis and potential breach points. The temple's walls showed no obvious weaknesses, no architectural vulnerabilities that conventional explosives could exploit to create alternative entry routes. Whatever materials the builders had used transcended normal understanding of defensive construction.
"Your assessment of our forced entry options remains unchanged?" Thorne asked, though he suspected he already knew Alfred's position on such tactical approaches.
"Inadvisable," Alfred replied with certainty that carried implications about knowledge he shouldn't possess according to his cover identity. "The temple's defensive systems extend beyond passive barriers into active response capabilities that would eliminate unauthorized penetration attempts through methods specifically designed to deter exactly such approaches."
The response suggested familiarity with temple defenses that exceeded what normal intelligence gathering should have provided, though Thorne had given up trying to extract specifics about how Montclair family information networks had acquired such detailed knowledge.
"Which brings us to day ten," Thorne concluded, his voice carrying the weight of someone whose patience was being tested by circumstances beyond his control. "Halfway to Lyralei's deadline, with supplies running low and no indication whether continued waiting serves any purpose beyond gradually weakening our own position."
He studied Alfred's composed features for any sign that extended isolation was affecting someone whose professional training should have prepared him for exactly such psychological pressure. But the Montclair operative showed no indication of stress or uncertainty, his demeanor suggesting someone whose confidence in ultimate success remained unshaken despite obvious complications.
"You believe they're still alive," Thorne observed, his veteran experience making him recognize subtle indicators that revealed more than verbal responses. "Something about this situation doesn't concern you the way it should someone whose mission parameters depend on successful expedition completion."
The observation struck closer to truth than Alfred's careful persona could easily deflect, forcing him to provide response that acknowledged accuracy while maintaining operational security.
"Professional optimism," he said finally, his tone carrying just enough uncertainty to seem genuine while avoiding commitments that might compromise future flexibility. "Expeditions of this complexity often require extended timeframes to complete successfully. Premature extraction could cost more than patient waiting, especially when team capabilities exceed standard parameters."
Thorne processed this response with analytical precision that came from decades evaluating information provided by sources whose reliability remained questionable. Alfred's confidence seemed based on knowledge rather than hope, suggesting access to intelligence that normal expedition planning wouldn't provide.
But pressing such observations would accomplish nothing except confirming suspicions that both parties preferred to leave unaddressed. Their mission success depended on cooperation that functioned despite mutual awareness of hidden agendas and undisclosed information.
As if responding to his thoughts, Alfred rose from his position beside the fire to begin the evening patrol that had become routine during their extended vigil. His movements carried precision that spoke of capabilities refined through training that extended far beyond what normal pilots required, while his enhanced senses probed their surroundings with systematic efficiency that suggested familiarity with exactly this kind of operational security.
"I'll take first watch," he announced, his voice carrying professional courtesy that had marked their entire interaction despite underlying tensions that neither acknowledged directly. "Wake me at midnight for rotation change."
Thorne nodded acknowledgment while his mind worked through considerations that had been building throughout their extended isolation. Ten days down, ten days remaining before decisions would need to be made about mission continuation versus tactical withdrawal. His teammates were either facing challenges that required more time to overcome, or they were already dead and continuing to wait served no purpose except depleting resources that might be needed for extraction through hostile territory.
But something in Alfred's demeanor suggested confidence that transcended normal assessment of probability and risk. Whether that confidence was based on superior intelligence, hidden capabilities, or simply professional denial of failure remained to be determined.
As Alfred disappeared into the darkness beyond their campfire's illumination, as the familiar sounds of careful perimeter patrol began marking his systematic movement through defensive positions that had been established through days of routine, Thorne settled into contemplation of factors that would determine their next course of action.
His teammates were depending on extraction capabilities that might prove insufficient if their trials required resources or time that exceeded available margins. Alternatively, continued waiting might cost opportunities for rescue that could save lives if initiated before circumstances deteriorated beyond recovery.
Either way, the next ten days would determine whether this expedition ended in success that justified every risk they had accepted, or failure that added their names to the list of those who had underestimated what temple exploration actually required.
Around him, the landscape that surrounded the Viraldean Temple settled into the kind of profound silence that marked places where human presence remained temporary and unwelcome despite whatever authority their technology and training might suggest.
Somewhere beyond the massive doors that had sealed their teammates from outside contact, battles were being fought that would determine not just individual survival, but the success of mission objectives that could reshape their understanding of what mortal achievement could accomplish when properly motivated.
Thorne closed his eyes and offered prayers for people whose courage had earned his respect despite political complications that made simple human connection more complex than circumstances should have required.
Ten days down. Ten days remaining. Mathematics that would determine whether hope or despair defined the conclusion of their most dangerous undertaking.
The fire crackled on through darkness that promised no answers except those that time and determination would eventually provide.