OOC: <<....>> Is Mandarin, a throwback from the old X comics.

The random aspect of Peter's ability was as much a curse or a boon. Only when the doors were prepared and visited were they concrete points on a line. Otherwise, you ended up where you ended up. Garrett mused on the criteria the cosmos used in conjunction with Peter's gift as an angry old woman cursed them as demons when they appeared from her pantry. Peter tried to explain, but Garrett made it clear to him that in China, being a demon beat being a mutant eight days a week.

He was surprised at first when he had found Peter waiting for him in the vault. Garrett had come to collect his personal belongings from the monastery. The monastery he intended to visit today. His resignation as chief medical officer of the Colony had already been presented, though Architect's insidious probing had revealed the intent long before pen met paper. They had wished him well, though if Garrett had similar mental powers, he would probably hear internal sighs of relief.

The two men pulled two large crates from the pantry. Garrett apologized to the woman, though her dialect was quite local and she seemed to feel scorn at him for speaking in the high tongue. The winter wind whipped at their faces as they hauled the crates outside, a small village of ramshackle houses lining the semicircle around them. Before them, the great spine of the world. A deep throb of sickened nostalgia raced through Garrett's mind as he remembered.

Water coursing through bamboo. The hollow knocking and gurgling. The sun shining down on his face. His master's voice in his ear. Garrett wept. Peter came to his side. " You okay, Gary?" He wiped his eyes and looked over at his friend and companion. " I will be, Peter. We have a long way to go. Let's unpack."

It took an hour or so to get all of the gear together. As Peter did most of the assembling and preparation, Garrett found a man willing to lend an alpaca and his knowledge to the trip, for a few hundred American dollars. The man was short and seemed underweight. One might even think he wouldn't survive a trip to the bottom of the hill, much less a two day excursion into those mountains. Garrett knew better though.

<< Are you a scientist? An explorer of haunted places? There is nothing in that valley but ghosts.>> Garrett nodded as they trailed the alpaca behind them, approaching Peter, who had dutifully and precisely prepared their gear.<< I happen to be one of those ghosts, Sir. I must return home before I dare step another foot in this world unwelcomed.>>

The wind howled over them, sounding like some great beast warning them not to travel further. The first leg of the trip had been fairly uneventful. Peter was amazed at the majesty of the mountains and the guide was concerned with the alpaca and the expedition's supplies. The relative silence gave Garrett time to think about things. His resignation as chief medical officer had taken an amazing weight off of his shoulders. He still believed in the Colony and had received clearance from the Council for the tours of Pax Academicians. The constant workload had just become too much for him. He needed time to himself. He had even requested a month vacation, but the Council was inflexible to it. Resignation seemed the only answer.

They were moving through passes and peaks that were mostly unfamiliar to him. It was an entirely different route than he had taken initially. He remembered when he had come over, hearing of the genocide and torture of mutants. Wholesale murder. He had grown up a good deal in such a short amount of time, though from this perspective, it seemed like an eternity. He was a different man on the other side of the world. His time in the mountains,these mountains, had changed him forever.

As night approached with its subzero temperatures and deadly conditions, they set up their camp against a permafrost bank. Dinner was as good as it got on the high side of a mountain. Peter went to sleep early, as he wasn't accustomed to the difference in altitude and wasn't feeling well. That left Garrett at the fire with the guide. << I believe I know where you are heading. The ruins of the Monastery of Five Fathers? I believe it is all gone by now. Since the accident.>> Garrett looked at him with a look of ire and confusion. << What accident? There was no accident.>>The guide seemed to look at him in a manner that transmitted apology and the same brand of confusion.<<The monks there, they didn't know they had built over a natural gas vent. That is what caused the initial explosion and the resulting fire that killed them. >>

Garrett just looked at the man in disbelief. No doubt this is what the authorities explained it as to the surrounding villages. It also provided a reason for no one to go visit the area again. Natural gas. That was rich. Did natural gas usually come in bullet version? Garrett's anger simmered at this government. Then it quickly turned to the Americas and Europe. Had one of them been the stage for such a slaughter, the whole world's attention would have been pulled to cease it. Garrett simply patted the older man's shoulder before heading to bed. << I thank you for escorting us amidst such danger, Sir.>>