The Cave in the Hills

Fletcher had spent more time and money finding the lab than he'd planned, but he was, at last it lay before him.

If he'd had more time, or if Abel hadn't pulled the monks out of this shadow, Fletcher might've known what he was getting into. That had been an interesting move on Abel's part. They'd released all the prisoners and pulled back while we were dealing with the uproar. They must. To be planning on coming back here for generations, if they were willing to pull a stunt like that.

The road up into the mountains had been closed, and nobody was doing any work on it these days, but it matched the description his reluctant contact had given him.

An abandoned military weather station next to a cave entrance. It was that, but why were there so many fences and guard posts? All empty, like the relics of a war that hadn't been worth recovering. No one had been here in years, probably. There were no lights on, but there was clearly a generator near the tall fence.

The cave was, as he'd been told, blowing gale force winds out of it, in a way that seemed positively unnatural for any shadow. It was whistling.

Fletcher takes heart that her doesn't need a radiation-shielded vacuum suit to approach this area. He reflects on the great singularity Oberon sent him out against in the Deep Sideways and is glad things are not that bad. On the other hand, this one is a lot closer to Amberrrrrr....... Xanadu. The shadow isn't degrading quickly, which is good and he wants to make sure whatever he does the weight of his actions won't tear the fragile edges of the shadow. This is going to require movement, so he checks his bootlaces and shoulders his messenger bag, readying himself for exertion several hundreds of yards from the outer perimeter. This might have been a failed attempt at creating a shadow path, but until he checks it out he doesn't want to make assumptions with so many souls on this world. He focuses and brings the Pattern into mind once more, relying on it to translate what someone one told him was a 12-dimensional foam of dimensional membranes into 3-dimensional perception. He begins to move about the perimeter, circling and not letting his Pattern focus sit too heavily upon any one spot for long. Getting a good enough picture of what is going on here to do anything about it will take hours at the very least and he paces himself, assessing damage, energy flows, connections, checking for overlapping congruent realities and trying to determine what happened to this place and what can be done about it.

Fletcher looks around normally before he reaches out with the pattern. The cave is inside the fence, too, so he's going to need to go through the wire. Good thing there doesn’t seem to be any power out here, or there would likely be security systems already going off.

Fletcher stretches his patten sense and tries to determine what has happened here. It's either a reaction of a natural shadow path to some unexpected pattern stimulus or, as he surmised a botched attempt to create a shadow path. He's too far from it and it was too long ago for him to get a really clear picture.

Maybe the answer is written down in that building. Or maybe there's a reason the fence has signs on it that say "Danger, Keep Out".

Satisfied that the environment is not in a state of unstable decay and that there are no creeping unseen cracks in reality he might fall through, Fletcher circles around to a weak spot in the perimeter, where the fence meets the sealed gate. He effects an entry with hand tools from his bag and begins inspecting the installation. There are guard posts and other buildings, presumably abandoned, but there may be clues that could answer some of his questions. Was their facility abandoned in a hurry? Were any documents or equipment left behind? Was this merely a watch station, or was it set up to to either contain or defend the cave? He moves from watch station to watch station and into the buildings, building a picture of what may have happened here, and looking for anything out of place that contradicts his expectations that this place was shut down some time ago in an orderly fashion.

The wire cutters cut the wires and the fence pulls back in a Fletcher-shaped hole, which is briefly filled by Fletcher going through it.

Fletcher finds contradictory evidence. Some buildings look as if they've been knocked down by a hurricane, but less-stable structures seem to still be standing. What seems to be the main work building has rows of electrical and network hookups, and no computers. There is also some sort of chemical lab, with whiteboards covered with drawing and chemical symbols. The notes on the whiteboards suggest that they were analyzing the gaseous composition of the wind, and not doing a great job of it.

The most unsettling detail is that there are taped outlines on the floor, the kind that policemen leave when they remove a body. Or more precisely, seventeen bodies.

Fletcher stands in the room looking at the whiteboards and the outline where bodies presumably fell and have since been removed. Clearly some sort of uncontrolled incident occurred, possibly an incursion from the another shadow but it didn't completely destroy the facility. It could have been a spontaneously-occurring phenomenon -- Fletcher hesitates to use the term 'natural disaster' in this case. Or perhaps an incursion of forces wielding elemental sorcery of some sort. If it was an incursion that was repelled, since there has since been clean up and an orderly withdrawal from this place. Eyeing the scribbling on the whiteboard Fletcher guesses that any useful information has already been removed with the bodies. It is time, he thinks, to see the cave itself.

He readies his awareness of Pattern and of Shadow and approaches the cave in on a zig-zag course, taking it in from different angles and feeling for gaps and overlapping shadow stuff. Finally he enters the cave.

The cave has a brisk wind blowing out of it and is making a high-pitched whistling noise that would certainly be considered a supernatural manifestation in a shadow that was less technical than Tyrell. Then again, Fletcher is himself a supernatural manifestation, so the locals and their science may be wrong on this one.

Fletcher notices that there are numerous metal rings firmly anchored to the sides of the cave, some of which seem to be used to tie down equipment that doesn't really seem in danger of moving. There are a number of things that might be useful if there were power; lights, power tools, a generator and other technical flotsam.

Around the first bend in the back of the cave (or as far back as Fletcher has gone to date), there is a rock that is surrounded by technical gear. Sitting on the rock is what looks like a flower with black petals. Fletcher can see it despite the darkness, because it is lit with a red light. The wind doesn't seem to be affecting it.

Fletcher examines the flower, looking for a stem or roots that may be holding it in place. He even goes as far touching the black petals with a stick to see if it reacts. He doesn't try speaking to it, though he's heard that's a thing with plants. After peering around the next corner to see if there are any other red lights in site, he returns to the flower and examines the red light to see it it's coming from within the flower itself as some sort of weird bioluminescence or if it is a supernatural effect. In his mind he calls upon the Pattern to help him perceive the forces at work.

The flower burns, the petals are black with soot, and the red light is firelight. And yet it is not consumed. It has no roots, but is attached to a solid rock.

The fire burns merrily, not consuming the flower. It has no natural source of fuel but it is what Fletcher sees in front of him.

Fletcher calls upon the great pattern in his blood. This place seems far from the centers of Order without being touched by Chaos. Well, perhaps a little Chaos. Centered on the flower.

Fletcher doesn't think such a small amount of chaos would have caused quite the level of shadow breakage he's sensed. Content that the flower will not try to eat him the moment his back is turned, Fletcher moves deeper into the cave looking for more weirdness - or more windiness as the case may be.

Fletcher continues back into the cave. It's clear what direction to go, which is into the wind. Goggles would've been handy. Or sunglasses.

After a short distance, Fletcher comes to a place where the wind pushes out of a cave entrance that looks suspciously like a natural shadow path. One that seems unnaturally unanchored. As if it was severed and the end is whipping around pulling in air from whatever is "nearby".

It doesn't seem like it would be smart to go through, if one wanted to come back.

Fletchers braces himself against the cave wall. Once more he extends his Pattern senses. This time he reaches into congruent realities overlapping this one and then tries to sense further, feeling as much as looking for a natural anchor point that might have been separated and inspecting the damage to gauge the severity of the problem and with luck guess at the cause.

Fletcher reaches out with his pattern sense, and it seems to him like he's watching an earthquake between shadows; it's not that the path isn't anchored, but that it's anchored to something that's moving. That doesn't make sense. It seems dangerous. He's not sure if he's found a trap that's gone off a trap that's ready to go off.

Fletcher would compare it to a line that frayed and snapped and the pole it had under tension is now flapping free. He can't tell from this side. Maybe it's not intentional, maybe it was supposed to hold something open against stress and it failed.

This whole place seems like an abandoned experiment, and that was before the Monks abandoned it last week.

Fletcher smells different shadows in the wind blowing through, some familiar, some horrible. He wonders if an accidental blast from someplace the path crossed might have been what killed the people in the lab.

Fletcher sighs and draws his sword. He needs to get a look at this from more angles. Diving through the broken path isn't a good idea. Walking from one shadow to another is relatively straightforward. However, circling through a continuum of closely-related shadow layers without causing a ripple or disruption that would aggravate the situation is another matter. This could take a while. He concentrates, using the edge of his sword as a focus to aid his precision and he begins shifting through an arc of shadows around the broken door. He is trying to get a feel for the terrain around which the doorway has been whipping. There must have been at least a slight trail of damage if the unanchored portal was whipping across multiple shadows. He should be able to follow that and assess how far it is from its original achorpoint, and if he finds the original anchor point he can see if it looks like the pathway could be re-attached. Otherwise depending on the ebb and flow or shadow layers he'd either have to find someplace else to anchor it or else he'll have to try to close and seal what path altogether.

Fletcher is pretty sure that some of the debris at the back of the cave blew through; sand rocks, maybe some other things. There seems to be a skeleton of some sort of fish, but it's dry and there's no obvious water in the cave. Some things look like they are from here, plastic debris, power cords and such.

Thinking back, some of the equations on the papers and walls back in the building make more sense. They were documenting the frequency of the shift and the period over which it traversed. If what he recalls was correct. It should cover a full arc in 17 and a third minutes. Which, if he goes through, tells him how long he has to wait before his ride returned.

Fletcher continues walking around the opening in an arc using the Pattern to doublecheck his instincts. Approaching the gateway, he readies his sword and the Pattern and steps though, ready to start grabbing shadow.

Fletcher doesn't notice until he's through, but there's a slick crack or pop, like a soap bubble bursting as he steps through. It stinks in here, which seems to be some sort of combination chemical plant and garbage dump.

It's better lit than the cave, but that's not saying much. Fletcher spots at least two cameras trained on the spot he appeared and there could be more. The place is outdoors, and the ruins of twisted steel buildings rise around them.

It's hard to tell, but there seems to be some sort of bell tolling in the distance.

Fletcher remains in motion, saluting the cameras as he scans the perimeter and silhouettes of the wreckage for movement. He looks for a defensible vantage point among the steel wreckage, noting any signs or symbols on things along the way. He quickly climbs to a point where he has a better view of the surroundings. If this is one of the places the whip-tailing shadow path passes through he needs to check for tears and damage caused by the motion of the shadow path. He summons the Pattern to enhance his senses to look for damage to the stuff of this shadow and tries to get a general sense of what kind of shadow this might be and how different it is from the shadow he traveled here from.

There is a strong breeze towards the opening for a few moments, and then it is gone, with a sound that can only be described as a "whump". The path seems closed again.

It's not clear if the cameras are connected or if they were part of the experiment in the cave that he left. They don't look like the other technology here.

The shadow here seems fragile. It would be possible to do something here, but it's not clear what a repair would even look like. If Fletcher just stops the whip-tail, it might leave a lot of these shadows in a state where they might collapse together. Or disintegrate.

The pattern being brought to bear on the issue seems to be adding some sort of tension to the entire thing. If this isn't deliberate, it's a nasty accident waiting to happen.

Fletcher keeps moving as he reconnoiters the area within site of the entrance point. At some point he will need to see what stepsize of the local shadow is and what if any population remain. But first he needs to confirm his guess as to the periodicity of the whiplash and effect. Depending on how many shadows and people are involved this may be a big job. He ponders whether he has it in him to ask his father for help. He lists off things he should do in his head.... See how many shadows are involved, how fast things are decaying, probably tell the Turcopilier -- heck, issue a travel warning to the family in general for this area. This situation may have gotten past the point where it's salvageable and the best that can be done is limit the spread of damage from a collapse. This close to heavily traveled shadow the ripples could be huge. Fletcher takes a minute to waste time thinking up things to do to the person who did this and walked away. If it was an accident. But first, some more surveying and confirming the periodicity. He will also need to repeat this with any other shadows the whipping shadow path may connect to. He stops and sighs, quickly reminding himself of his father's advice to always keep moving to avoid snipers and invisible assassins. It's not exactly the most resssuring advice for an eight year-old-Fletcher to hear from his father, but it has stood the test of time.

Fletcher looks around the ruins for a while, not finding any people. It looks more abandoned than destroyed, in most places, but the kind of abandoned that happens when it's easier to move somewhere else than rebuild here. The buildings look sturdy, or sturdier than the one with the trump path. It looks like a lot of useful things were dragged away elsewhere.

While checking on the time he'd expected the shadow path to reconnect, he comes to a realization. The path arrives two minutes early, but it's not early, the periodicity at this end is different.

The shadow path could be sliding between shadows with different time ratios, and the periodicity is somehow related to the way the shadow path is anchored. It's like the shadows keep pushing each other out of the way. Like they're moving down a slope, and the path is trying to lock in and never can.

It might not be an accident or a trap, but an experiment gone wrong. The kind of wrong that ends up with someone trapped somewhere that they can't depart from. Fletcher is unpleasantly reminded of places he couldn't get away from for a long, long time.

Pondering the notion that this place might be a trap, Fletcher roams farther afield from the entry point, looking for anyone or anything that might have been trapped here. Someone may need rescuing, and if something dangerous is contained here that would be good to know too. But he's not going to spend more than an hour checking. He still needs to get back and see where else the path whips around too.

He idly considers possibilities. From the look of things locking down the end of the path might not solve anything given the wear and tear on the shadow stuff. He might find a way to fuse the relative positions of the shadows, which might help the pressure. To do that he would need to identify one or more of the shadows the end point of the path is whipping between, and then shadow walking directly from one to the other, almost making a direct shadow path lock in their relative position by causing the 'edges' of the shadow to stick together. He might alter the shadow path, creating a Y formation in it and anchor it to the multiple destinations, but without stabilizing things first it probably wouldn't help.

His mind wanders back to the idea of a controlled implosion. If this shadow is doomed he could at least introduce some probabilities that would influence the nature of its eventual collapse to be less catarosphic for nearby shadows. At the very least a gradual shrinking or fading away of the shadow would be better than a sudden one, giving nearby shadow a chance to adapt slowing rather than being torn asunder by a sudden calamity. Swift and sudden are relative terms though. It could take years for even a 'quick' event when dealing with this scale. The notion occurs to him that he's now out on his own far from Amber. If he's going to do anything with potential impact he should probably tell someone about it first. He belatedly reminds himself it's Xanadu, Avalon, or Paris now, not Amber.

Fletcher finds no trapped beings, no men who walked around the horses and don't know where they've ended up. It's not a very desirable piece of real-estate, but it's at least different from the cave in the hills.

Fletcher heads back from the cave and takes a different time slice to enter. The second one is a scrub forest that looks like it's trying to turn into a desert. It's dry and arid, and the trees are twisted in the way of trees that see too much wind and not enough rain. Unlike the first one, it has no equipment or signs of habitation; like the other path, it has no trapped beings or signs of other shadow paths.

Fletcher keeps investigating. A marsh overgrown with mangrove trees, a chalky cliffside facing a similar cliff across a bay, a weird land of jagged natural spires jutting out of a sea of clouds.

The final path gives Fletcher pause; it looks identical to the first, but isn't the same once he leaves the immediate exit point. The path is vacillating between two identical rooms in different shadows.

Instead of equipment, this room has a body, slumped over a desk. It doesn't look like they died recently.

Fletcher pauses and listens for sounds of movement or other activity. Concluding he's alone, at least for the moment, he crosses quickly to the desk. First he assesses the remains to determine what he can about the cause of death and identity of the person. What clothing remains may yield a clue to the person’s origins. He scans the desk, looking for any information and building a picture of what this person was doing here, how they died, and whether they might have been involved in the detachment of the shadow path. He adjusts his gloves, preparing to search the body and the desk.

The body is mummified, and looks to have been here for a long time. Ages, perhaps. The clothes crumble when touched, but look like a basic robe, similar to what monks wear. Not the monks of Tyrell, who wore business suits. There's no sign of traumatic injury, and the body seems to be an adult male, if Fletcher's knowledge of skeletal anatomy holds for this person. There's also no markers of advanced age.

He doesn't look like he was expecting to die. He either died in his sleep at his desk, or he died without a struggle. Possibly peacefully

The desk has a journal in it. It's closed and has a tiny lock. It's probably going to crumble to dust if Fletcher opens it. It has a Unicorn symbol embossed on it.

Fletcher thinks about the best way to preserve or even recover old documents. The journal is probably going to crumble if opened. If he transports it to somewhere with advanced imaging equipment that might give him an indication of what's in it, it might not make the trip. It's old an fragile. Fletcher says to himself, "Not everything that is old needs to be fragile." This will be tricky this close to the shadow path. He walks in circles around the desk fro the next two hours, focusing on the Pattern. On one hand he is focusing on reducing the probability that the book will crumble if handled. On the other hand, he knows the book is likely the stuff of shadow and just as the Pattern gives him the power to break down the stuff of shadow, it also also him to bolster it. He alternates between this methods, attempting to confine the impact of his efforts to the book.

Fletcher undertakes his efforts to reinforce the book. Fletcher is careful, but using pattern requires motion and moving things in and out of his field of vision.

He's sure the body changed position and clothes from where he disturbed it. The feet of the desk have changed. He suspects the book that is here isn't the same one he wanted to reinforce. Fletcher can take it, but it might be a shadow of the one he wants.

He won't know until he goes somewhere with high-tech imaging processors, like Shadow Tyrell.

Fletcher carefully picks up the journal, wraps a handkerchief around it, and tucks it into his coat pocket for protection. Having done what he can to preserve the journal, he turns his attention to what may be outside the room. He feel he should at least get a sense of what sort of place this is, or was. He decides to spend a short time exploring the immediate vicinity for any clues as to technology level or what might have happened here before his returns to the shadow path, such as it is.

Fletcher sees a short row of buildings, apparently abandoned by all but the spiders. They line a short street that looks like a frontier town. It could be the near reaches of Arden, if the land weren't so arid, treeless and dusty.

It's the kind of place that gives ghost-towns a bad name, by being just a group of abandoned buildings.

It looks like it was here in support of mining outpost, but not in the last hundred years.

Fletcher weighs his options. Walking away and doing nothing is not an option. He can try to fix or mitigate the damage of the unmoored shadow path, or he could return to Shadow Tyrell, and where he could try to examine the journal in more detail. If Fletcher's bolstering of the of the journal's Substance has been successful, it may or may not contain information that would be useful and pertinent to understanding the damage to the shadow path. Tyrell is also where 'The Turcopilier' resides, and that person may actually have relevant information. Fletcher knows he has been active in constructing shadow paths before. Perhaps this was a failed attempt on his part. Fletcher decides that the problem has been going on for long enough that one or two more days is not likely to make a difference. The Turcopilier's response to Fletcher's questions may also lend additional insight into that cousin's character. Fletcher begins to walk back to to the shadow path. If the shadow path becomes available again and is the same path that will be a good sign and he plans to head back to Tyrell, using the Pattern to speed up his try by using the Pattern to conjure a motorcycle or other native mode of transport.

Fletcher finds the shadow path and it opens about when he'd expect it to. He slips back into the cave, which smells suspiciously of chemicals that he didn't smell the last time he was here. Heading back to the abandoned base, he does find a vehicle under a tarp; it's some sort of strange 3-wheeled motorcycle.

There's a helmet in the seat and it looks fast. It's got 100% charge at the moment.

Fletcher heads to the city and looks for an information terminal in a street-level market, looking for places likely to have the means of studying fragile documents. He's thinking that something along the lines of perhaps the archaeological department of a university. After all such places might find the challenge interesting, or at the very least be amenable to helping out a scholar willing to make a donation. He applies his long experience walking in shadows to translating his needs into the local idiom.

Well, there's the hospital, but it's in disarray. The newsfeeds are full of discussion of the chaos; the monks have all pulled out of the hospital, and the city government is in charge.

The newsfeeds think they are weak and corrupt and were never prepared to actually run anything. Some go so far as to suggest that the monks liked it that way.

Someone is running the hospital, but the whole thing seems fragile.

Nonetheless, the hospital has the best imaging equipment and personnel on the continent.

Fletcher sighs, hoping that the the equipment he needs wasn’t damaged in the battle at the hospital. At least he's had some experience with advanced medical technology. He heads off through the city to the hospital, not entirely sure who he'll encounter at the main entrance, but he doesn’t think sneaking in via the tunnels is the way to go.

The hospital is open for emergency treatments, with the city government taking charge of it. Large sections are cordoned off and dark. From the outside it looks like entire floors.

It's pretty chaotic, and it's hard to find out who is in charge, and if Fletcher is wounded, the emergency room is to the left.

Fletcher takes advantage of the chaos, ducking around hurrying people, sticking to the walls as patients and supplies are wheeled buy, finding a handy locker room, where with a minimal amount of manipulation it becomes probable that he can abscond with an extra-tall lab coat, stethoscope, and clipboard. Thus equipped he affects the air of one who is not be challenged, but who is amiable and new here. He politely inquires at a nursing station for directions to the imaging department.

The nurse looks up. "Oh, Doctor, I didn't see you there. X-ray is on 6 West, unless you need the advanced imaging department." She looks Fletcher over from head to foot. It's not clear if she's concerned that he doesn't belong there or has other concerns.

"I could show you, if you'd like..."

Fletcher smiles and eyes the nurse over. He says, "Actually I do need the advanced imaging department. I'm supposed to check and see if I'm qualified on the equipment here."

"Certainly, Doctor Fletcher." She stands up from her workstation and smiles. "Grace, I have to take Dr. Fletcher to AID. Can you take the desk?" Another woman nods and the nurse steps into the hall.

"I'm Nurse Cassidy, but you can call me Joanna," she says. She leads the way to an elevator bank and inserts her ID badge. She seems inclined to stand very close to Fletcher.

"Did you just transfer in? I'm not surprised your ID isn't working. This place hasn't been right since they turned it over to the city..."

She keeps up polite smalltalk combined with lack of personal space for the trip to the Advanced Imaging Department, which also opens for her ID badge. The lights come up when she opens the door, and the equipment seems similar to what Fletcher expects. He's not familiar with any of the designs.

Joanna smiles. "Is there anything else you need?"

Fletcher looks around the room. "Actually, I thought there was going to be a tech here to check me out on this equipment. I don't suppose you can show me around on this suite?"

She shrugs. "This whole arcology is low on techs, what with the new management. Have a seat at the console and I'll give you the once-over. I'm not a full-time tech, but I'm experienced and qualified."

She starts flipping on wall switches and booting computers consoles. The system looks a bit clunky compared to most of the equipment in the lab. But it should do the job.

Fletcher does his best to follow along and learn the system. He realizes that Joanna may be needed back at her station at any point, and tries to be polite and efficient in making use of her time. As opportunity presents he will try to work in a question or two about how the new management differs from the old, being legitimately ignorant of how the larger facility was run before and what was. known about it to the public.

She shakes her head. "Above my pay-grade, sweetie. We got out of the way when the Monks wanted to take over a lab for their own use. Now it's the city and they're more interested in having a hospital than they are of any use running a hospital."

Fletcher shrugs and continues learning the basics of this imaging suite. At some point if Joanna is called away by duty first, he declares that he thinks he got the hang of it and thanks her for her help. He will stay on the 'run a few test runs'. That is is stated plan, at any rate.

Nurse Joanna looks annoyed when the public address system pages her. "Well, Dr., I have to get back to work. Perhaps we could get together when neither of us has pressing duties." She departs, leaving Fletcher alone with the imaging department's very expensive imaging gear.

Fletcher wastes no time in getting out the book and preparing to examine it.

The imaging gear is pretty good; better than the stuff that was probably destroyed by fire, ice, water, and hurricanes in Shadow Earth at Greenwood Hospital.

After some extended efforts to get the right pages to appear on the imaging screen Fletcher manages to safely view the first page.

There is a rambling introduction, explaining all the strange things the author has seen and the even stranger things that he had heard of and the risks he took for the sake of knowledge.

He was called mad, but believed he saw more than others.

This is his book of how to protect yourself while summoning demons.

Fletcher is intrigued and scans through the contents of the book, at least for a while, looking for references that might indicate something related to Amberites, or otherwise reflecting the true sort of lore that might give him a clue as to how this whole mess with the shadow path happened.

It's definitely wrong, but it's wrong in ways that don't really matter unless it gets a hold of something really powerful. It's the kind of definitely wrong that might've seen what right looked like once. It's really close.

It's about as well-done as something like this could be in this shadow. You get the feeling that the author was telling the truth.

And also probably mad.

Fletcher considers the possibility that perhaps some kind of botched summoning caused the diversion of a shadow path. It would have taken a truly significant amount of power. More than the journal's author had at his disposal. Perhaps someone did come through once and do something that caused it. He decides it's time to pack up while he figures out his next moves. He could try to reach the Turcopilier and ask him what he knows about the damage. He could try to lay more of a false background in Tyrell in case he needs to return at some point. He's not entirely sure Caine's long-lost kid can be relied upon to tell the whole truth, but he may as well ask before he makes the trip back out to the caves. He goes looking for the Turcopilier, stopping for a quick meal along the way.

Fletcher quickly finds that the monks have not just withdrawn from the operation of the hospital, they have withdrawn from the shadow completely. The top half of the pyramid is closed, and looking at it from the windows at the edge, dark and unoccupied.

Unless they're in hiding, there's no obvious way to get to the Turcopilier or any of his subordinates.

Fletcher pauses to reflect. How much time has passed since he met the Turcopilier and his minions here when he was last in this place? Could they have completely bailed while he was checking out the shadow damage? Stranger things have happened before. He decides that if he's lost track of time again that he should take action before things progress further on their own. He recovers his trusty steed at the charging station where he left it and hastens back to the cave in the hills.

The steed is trusty, and fully charged, and the man he'd paid to keep it safe apparently did so. The road is wet and miserable and it takes some time for Fletcher to return to the compound in the hills.