The Secrets of the Gobi
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About this ebook
Eva Fischer-Dixon
I came into this troubled world during the early morning hours of June 17, 1950, in the city of Budapest, Hungary. I was the first and last child of my 41-year-old mother and my father who was 45 years old at the time of my birth. As I did not know any better, I could not possibly understand that we were living in poverty, as I was growing up with loving parents and there was always a bite to eat. My childhood was poor and saddened with tragedies. As a six-year-old child I witnessed the bloody 1956 revolution and received the first taste of true prejudice by those of whom I thought liked us, yet turned against my family. That tragedy did not match the untimely death of my beloved father when I was not yet seven years old, on February 14, 1957. My mother remarried in 1959 and our financial situation was upgraded from poverty to poor. After finishing elementary school I made a decision to earn money as soon as possible to ease our financial situation and I enrolled in a two-year business college (high school diploma was not required). I received my Associate Degree in 1966 and I began to work as a 16-year-old certified secretary/bookkeeper. During the same period I began my high-school education, which I completed while working full-time and attending night school. I discovered my love for writing when I was 11 years old after a movie that my childhood friend and I saw in the movie theater. We were not pleased with the ending and Steven suggested that I should write a different ending that we both liked. Voila, a writer was born. With my family’s encouragement, I entered a writing contest given by a youth oriented magazine and to my genuine surprise, I won second price. My desire to live in a free country and to improve my life was so great, that in 1972, leaving everything, including my aging parents behind, I managed to escape from Hungary during a tour to Austria, (then) Yugoslavia and Italy. I spent almost nine long months in a rat infested refugee camp, located Capua, Italy, while I waited for official permission to immigrate to the country of my dreams, to the USA. In 1975 I met and married a wonderful man, my husband Guy. Thanks to his everlasting patience, he assisted me in my task of learning the English language. He is truly my partner for life and I remain forever grateful to him for standing by me in some tough times. It is difficult for me to describe my love for writing. I cannot think of a bigger emotional joy for an author than to see a published novel in somebody’s hand and to see a story come alive on the screen. I yearn to experience that joy.
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The Secrets of the Gobi - Eva Fischer-Dixon
Prologue
You are beautiful,
Dr. Tyrell assured me. Please, see for yourself.
With that said, he held up a mirror in front of my face. Before I could see my reflection, I closed my eyes.
I did not want to look, not just yet.
I told him and meant it. I did not care how long he would hold the mirror in front of me, I would look anywhere in the room except into that. A couple of minutes later he put the silver framed mirror down and headed to the door.
Someone outside the door is anxious to see you,
he remarked, as he was about to open the door. I swallowed hard. My feelings were not clear about seeing anyone I knew from prior to the accident
. Dr. Tyrell not only said that someone was outside waiting, but he also confessed, that someone called him every day, sometimes more than once to check on my progress. I wondered if that someone
loved and truly cared about me, the new me? That was a question that burned into my worried mind.
Almost two years have passed since everything in my life was turned upside down within the period of five minutes. Moreover, it has been even longer since I have seen more than a few people from my previous life. I was shocked back to reality when I was unable to recognize my own husband, Enkhtuya, after the plane crash. He was the only person, other than medical personnel who saw me with my monster
face.
Other than Enkhtuya, nobody from my life before the plane crash had seen me before, or after my surgeries, perhaps except for one brief time when my psychologist paraded a few people in front of me to see if by having them in my hospital room would trigger any memories. It did not happen until that horrible day with Enkhtuya, which shocked me to the core, and which indeed finally forced my memory to deal with all the losses and tragedies in my life.
I was not sure how I felt about seeing anyone who knew me from before
. Don’t get me wrong; I loved all the people I called my friends, especially a couple of close friends, but I was wondering which one of them was waiting, and which one of them was willing to accept me, the new me.
Somehow, I managed to nod in the direction of the doctor who was resting his hand on the door handle, waiting for my reply. I must admit, I felt uncertainty when I nodded that I agreed
. He motioned back acknowledging my agreement to see someone
outside the door. A moment later the door opened and that someone
walked in.
I slowly looked up and when our eyes met, I noticed a slight tremble in his body, but his facial expression did not change, he remained calm. Did he notice the changes on my face that was shattered with hundreds of tiny glass pieces, and which had to be operated on so many times that only medical records could tell the exact number I went under the knife, just to make me look human again. Not being recognized was one of the biggest fears I harbored, but the smile, no matter how slow it appeared on his face was priceless.
A Little Bit About Myself
I grew up privileged, yet not spoiled. I learned very early on what money meant. My father was in the mining business, and he came from a family that wished for better times. He worked himself through college and received a degree in mine engineering, among other degrees, like chemistry and geophysics.
When I was thirteen years old, I told my father that I missed him a great deal due to his frequent absences from home. He hugged me, and promised me, that he would take me with him next time if my school and my mother permitted. The school would not say no
to a person who contributed large amounts of money to various school activities, and my mother would not say no
to me, because she knew that I could be stubborn, and my nagging would not end if she did not give in. So, a month later I joined my father in Summersville, West Virginia.
I learned many things during that trip, some of the facts remained with me for the rest of my life. The number one thing I learned was that my father was a brilliant man. His knowledge about mining was astonishing, and the way people talked to him and asked him questions, it showed me that he was a man of many talents, including handling people, merchandise, and wealth. It happened on that trip that I have decided to follow my father’s footsteps and someday become a mine engineer just like he was. In the meantime, I decided that I would learn as much as I could from his expertise.
First and foremost, I learned that mining was just about the hardest, if not the hardest job on the world. Miners had to endure and work in an environment that would frighten even a strong and hard man. I later read many articles about how young children, even girls, worked in mines, naturally a long time ago, before child labor laws were introduced, approved, and hopefully enforced.
Learning that mine owners could become extremely wealthy, I wondered, that out of the great many mine owners I personally knew, just how many tried to be fair to his employees. Sadly, many of them did not care about their employee’s lives, as they were lowered down mile after mile, deep into the darkness to produce coal, copper, and diamonds, rather, they went after sheer profits. I had knowledge about mine disasters with tragic loss of lives, where the owners did not follow safety guidelines, in other words, they did not offer a better and safer work environment. I knew that someday when I owned, or simply operated mines, human lives would be my top priority.
So, I grew up in Sydney, Australia, but after a long debate between my parents, the family packed up and moved to the beautiful State of Connecticut. I enrolled at the famous college, where I was accepted, none other than the prestigious Yale University Engineering Programs. I got the education that was required for my future work and then some. I majored in both mine engineering and geophysics, in which I eventually received my doctorate degree as a geophysicist. The degree did not come without personal sacrifice, I had to pay for it with only studying during the years that I spent at Yale’s highest level of teaching. No private life, no parties, no boyfriends, but I have become Dr. Moon Light Darnell, it was a title that I have seldom ever used.
As I mentioned, my road to my doctorate degree was long and hard, but my determination to become the best in the field, and at the same time I tried to make my parents proud of me, was just as long and hard. Although I cannot say that they have sacrificed a lot for me, at least not financially, but they did give up many years of their lives to live away from their homeland, Australia. Don’t get me wrong, they loved the United States, and we had all the comforts, and then some, but it was not real home for them.
They kept the house in the suburbs of Sydney, and they moved back there after my final graduation from the Yale Doctorate Program. They had been back there for every holiday or went back for major events and stayed there for a couple of weeks. My father travelled there more often as he had businesses that he personally needed to tend from time to time.
After graduating from Yale, I have become one of the very few women who choose to go down deep into the mines to inspect and to help the workers with problems if they had any. I listened before I gave speeches or advice. As I mentioned, employees safety was always and foremost my main concern. It was also that very issue that almost cost my life.
About my name, Moon Light Darnell. No, it is not a joke, although it was a joke to many during my growing up and education years, who thought that it was funny to call me Moonshine, Moonie, Full Moon, and the list goes on and on. I did not think that my name was funny, as a matter of fact, I always liked my name and the explanation that my parents gave me, as to why they named me as such.
My mother went into a long and painful labor with me, so the doctor told her that walking would help the delivery to come sooner. So, my father walked with her in the hospital’s corridor where there was a huge window to the outside. When they reached that, my mother sighed and pointed at the bright full moon.
Look, what a beautiful moon light,
she said to my father, and that moment her water broke. I was born fifteen minutes later. It took less than a moment for them to name me, and with my birth; unknown to them at the time, I became their only child.
A Memory from My Past and JJ
Mongolia to me meant nothing but a huge desert until I finally made it there. My private jet that I flew myself, being a licensed pilot, landed in a private area of the capital city of Mongolia, Ulaanbaatar, or Ulan Bator, depending on who you talk to. It was far more populated than I ever imagined, having over 1.3 million people living there. It was one of the stops of the infamous/famous Trans-Siberia Railroad. Certainly not my preference for long distance travel, but again, we are all different.
I landed without any problems, and along with the customs and immigration officer; a government official also boarded my private plane. Everybody was very curious, and yet polite with me and with my secretary, Jon Johnson, or as everybody else, including myself called him JJ. For the record, it was his suggestion, as everybody called him as such. I told him that he would know if he was in real trouble, or if there was something that needed his attention when others were around, then I would call him Jon. He willingly agreed to that too.
Checking our documents only took a few minutes. After doing a last minute but thorough check of my plane, I locked it up with an instruction to the land crew to fuel up the plane sometime in the next couple of hours. We were scheduled to stay the night at the Kempinski Hotel Khan Palace, in the Bayanzurkh District of the capital city, the same place where the small group of investors, that included myself had meeting scheduled in regarding mining investments in Mongolia. The project was titled where the mine was located, Altan Tolgoi, which translated to Golden Hill
in English.
I have studied hundreds of photographs, topography, and a variety of research reports from the location. I have even watched video tapes, but it was going to be the first time that I was going to be there in person. It meant more to me than anything, more than all the research in the world. I liked to see, feel, and hear everything in person, that is what I wanted, and that is what I was getting. Of course, so did the other six members of potential investors. I knew every one of them from the years travelling with my father.
Embarking from the plane, we noticed a limousine waiting not far from where my plane landed and eventually parked. A Mongolian government official ushered us toward the parked limo. He explained that first we will have a brief working lunch, and then, our group would be flown to the mine’s location. I would have rather skipped lunch, but I did not want to be rude, so I just smiled and went along with the flow. I glanced at JJ, and as he was reading my mind, slightly shrugged. We had no choice but to play nice children
.
A few more words about JJ, also known as Jon Johnson, whom I first met at the Harvard Business School’s job fair. Yes, it was his handsomeness that I noticed first, but I quickly moved on from there. I haven’t had a boyfriend since I began college, a fact that someone might have a difficult time believing. At the time JJ stopped by our booth, I was still not looking for one either. He was two weeks shy from receiving his degree in economics, but JJ was not sure where he wanted to go and what he really wanted to do. JJ knew one thing for certain, he did not want to work at the Stock Market.
I explained to him who I worked for, my father, who was in control of two dozen mines on four continents, in Asia, North America, Africa, and in Australia. I just graduated from Yale myself the previous year, and so far, I was still learning the ropes
at a fast pace. In that matter I had no choice, as my father was diagnosed with rapidly spreading cancer and the prognosis was not good. He was told that if he continued to take his medication as he did, his life expectancy would stretch to six months. Six months? My mother and I repeated the doctor’s words. If I had another forty or fifty years, it would have not been enough to spend with my father whom I adored. Many times, my mother accused me of loving my father a lot more than I loved her, which was not true at all. The difference was that I wanted to be like my father was, a successful mine engineer and businessperson. I wanted to soak up his knowledge of the field that he spent almost his entire life working.
My mother was somewhat of an introvert, but occasionally she would give parties that she would rather not have, but she wanted to please my father, who encouraged her to be more outgoing. She wasn’t afraid of people, she just loved her life as it was, raising me, loving my father, and giving us a place that we called home, and which we loved to go back too.
If there were days something bothered my mother, it was difficult to say, as she did not want the attention on herself, she just lived with what bothered her, or solved some issues in her calm way. She never complained to my father, or I about anything, she took, as the saying goes, everything with a grain of salt
.
Back to the subject of my secretary, who drew more eyes than a swarm of honeybees. Before I made him a tentative offer, I asked our company’s Chief of Security, Pete Graves, to do an extensive background check on Jon Johnson and his family. Two days later I pretty much knew everything about him, and although not all was good in his family, his own personal background was spotless as far as one of Pete’s friends at the FBI could tell. That was enough for me; I refuse to blame a child for his parents’ behavior, if he or she did not pick up some bad trends and habits.
I called him up and made the tentative offer. It took less than a day for JJ to return my call. JJ told me that he had something to tell me, or ask me in person before he put his signature on the dotted line. We met in the hotel’s lobby; it was the same hotel chain I always stayed while I travelled, Hotel Hilton. Because I did not drink alcohol of any kind, not even beer, not even socially, over a glass of lemonade, yes, lemonade, he told me that he wanted to ask me an important question. When I replied, of course, he asked if I would have problem working with a gay man.
No problem at all, as long as that gay man does his job according to the rules and regulations of my company.
I replied to him in a firm tone of voice because that was the truth. I wanted to make absolutely certain that he knew what he was getting into, so, when he pulled out the envelope with the yet unsigned contract, I stopped him from writing his name on the paper. I want you to know that I have expectations, fairly great one from my employees. For example, just because I never drink, I don’t expect the same from those who are working for me, except for no drinking while we are traveling on business, which probably would happen often, but you could enjoy your favorite drinks while not working, or on the road. I have no business preventing people from relaxing with a glass of wine.
Would I seem too forward for asking why you don’t drink?
JJ asked, and it was clear that he was not certain for real if it was an inappropriate question to his future boss or not. I smiled.
This is your first time, and I may add the last time that you receive any response from me on any personal matters. I do not drink because I like to have a clear head and clear thinking.
I replied, and then I lowered my head because a memory clouded my mind.
I am very sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you with some bad memories,
he apologized. I shook my head.
You might as well know the entire story, perhaps it would make more sense to you. I was not very social in college because all my energy was focused on majoring in two different subjects. However, I had a roommate, a lovely Italian American girl, by the name of Robin Priscopo. She was a local girl, well technically she was from Hartford, Connecticut, but being Italian with a lot of aunts and uncles who lived around New Haven, occasionally she took me to their homes for lunch, even dinner. That was my entire social life, but this story is not about me. So, just because I did not participate in parties, it did not mean that Robin was the same way. She loved parties, and eventually she ended up being the football team Captain’s girlfriend. I personally never liked the boy, and I told Robin that she needed to be careful.
I stopped to sip from my lemonade. I glanced at JJ who appeared to be paying full attention to every word I was saying.
I would lie if I said that I know how it feels to be in love, but I could imagine from the way Robin talked about Chad Cooks, how he talked to her, and on and on. Now I know for certain that they were not intimate because she said so, but she also said that Chad was pushing her hard in that direction. I warned her yet again. A few weeks later, after a big championship football game, there was a huge party in a hotel near the campus dormitory where we lived. She invited me but it was almost finals time, and I devoted every waking moment for studying, and because of that, I was up all night. During that time, I glanced at the clock quite few times, wondering when Robin was coming back home, to our dorm room that is.
By 5 o’clock in the morning, I went to look for her. I looked everywhere, bars but they were already closed, restaurants that were open 24/7, not to mention her friends’ dormitories. When I was unable to find her, feeling a worry knot in my stomach, I called one of her uncles, Antonio, who lived close by. I waited for him in our dormitory’s lobby where he arrived shortly after my alarming phone call to him.
His wife came along with him."
Did you find her?
JJ asked with concern. I lifted my finger; he had to hear the whole story. He murmured an apology and listened once again.
"The three of us went to the Campus Police, and we gave all the necessary information, including a picture that Antonio had in his wallet. Two police officers and the three of us went on foot to see possible areas where a person could momentarily disappear, like wooded areas, behind nicely, or loosely trimmed hedges, we looked everywhere without much success. While the policemen searched further, Antonio and his wife Gina escorted me back to my dormitory room, just in case Robin returned while we were out looking for her.
Well, we did not get to my room because we heard a strange noise coming from behind some high bushes next to the eight stone steps that led into the building. I could not believe my eyes, it was Robin. Around her eyes the skin was black, and her eyes were swollen shut. Also, there were finger marks on her neck and blood streaming down both of her legs. She was moaning from pain and when we tried to move her, we realized that something was incredibly wrong. It was way too much blood for not having some serious injuries, albeit we were unable to see them ourselves." I had to stop because my mouth felt dry, and it was a good opportunity to try to take control of my tears that were gathering in the corner of my eyes.
The ambulance, the one of the Campus Policemen called arrived a few minutes later and as gently as they could, they placed her on the stretcher. I insisted on riding with her in the ambulance. At the hospital she was immediately taken into triage, and I was kicked out of the area where she was, they pulled all the curtains around her tightly. Two New Haven policemen (a male and a female) came by and they began to question me. In the meantime, Antonio and Gina also arrived and immediately wanted to know what happened to their niece. A doctor eventually came out from the triage area and informed our small group, that Robin must have surgery without delay to save her life. I almost collapsed to the floor if not for the policeman who grabbed me in the last minute. Anyway, I told the police personnel as much as I could, not holding my bad feelings about Chad Cooks back at all. We waited for six long hours, when finally, the same doctor who briefly spoke to us earlier came back to the waiting area, where Antonio never stopped pacing.
I stopped telling my story, as I needed another drink. I motioned to the waiter who almost immediately brought me another tall glass of lemonade.
"I took one look at the doctor’s face, and I immediately knew that my roommate, that sweet girl Robin was gone. He told us that there were severe internal injuries and there were sure signs of rape as well. The doctor took a deep breath before he continued. He told us that the visible injuries were not of her cause of death, rather, they found a broken Vermouth bottle inserted in her vagina and it raptured some of her organs. Each of the raptured organs could have killed her individually too, but some of them were salvageable. He emphasized that they fought hard, yet they lost the battle to save her life. When he finished telling us why we lost an innocent young woman, barely 19 years old so senselessly,