by Tara Basi
“It’s a door, jeez, what else would it be?” Trinity replied.
“Thanks for nothing, toaster brain.”
It was the strangest door Mina had ever seen. With one finger she gingerly prodded the strange surface. There was no resistance, her finger vanished. With a short squeal of surprise Mina immediately pulled it back. Her finger felt and looked fine. The surface of the door was unchanged, with no obvious sign of where she had poked it.
Mina paused, wondering what to do next. Her suit radio crackled with static, “Grain, Sara, Cole. Anyone?”
A hiss was the only reply, “Trinity, anything?”
“Sure, my super-powers are endless. Massive alien structures and their weird technology can’t stop me calling home. Dad? Trinity One? Dad? Are you there?”
“Stupid bloody toaster, I’m going through,” Mina said, mainly to herself. There were few other places to go.
“Does the toaster get a say?” Trinity asked sarcastically.
Holding her hands in front of her she stepped through the door to emerge into a bright white hallway of human proportions.
For a moment, Mina was stunned. She had gone from gigantic and monotonous grey-black to a nearly ordinary white corridor. She could not see how long the white hallway went on for but it looked a very long way, both to her left and right. At regular intervals, were a pair of featureless doors, set directly opposite each other. There were no obvious handles or markings. The only thing that made Mina think they were doors was the edging. Around each door shape was a paper thin grey line that seemed to shimmer slightly, as though some faint light was seeping through the crack from the other side. Apart from that, it could have been any floor in a gigantic Vegas hotel, except the lighting was much better. The luminance had no particular source, it came from all directions, and Mina had no shadow. She found that slightly disturbing.
Mina decided to get organised and relax for a few minutes before deciding what to do next. She got out of her space-suit, deflated it, and packed it inside her helmet. Pulling some water out of her kit bag she sank to floor with her back against the wall, legs outstretched, massaged her sore knees, sipped the water and considered her options. After a few minutes she decided to experiment and see if she could still exit back to the shaft. The oily door she’d stepped through was the only one of its kind in the corridor, as far as she could see. She pushed through the waterfall, instinctively covering her head with her hands to protect herself from the weird liquid. Instantly she was back, standing in the enormous indentation, the huge shaft still directly ahead and beyond that, the blank wall into which the oblong she’d ridden so far inside the monolith had vanished.
Returning to the hall she approached the nearest white and grey edged door and pushed against the surface with top of her water bottle. The bottle disappeared into what she had supposed was a solid surface. It was like pushing against smoke. There was no resistance. When Mina pulled the bottle back, the door was intact and as smooth as before.
“Anyway of telling where these lead,” Mina asked, hoping Trinity might have some ideas.
“No, lucky dip time I guess,” Trinity answered.
“You don’t know much, do you,” Mina replied, feeling weary.
“Indeed, but it comforts me knowing you know less,” Trinity happily replied.
Mina sighed and shook her head. Before taking the plunge she decided to walk along the corridor for a while and see what she could find. Besides, she was starting to stiffen up from the unaccustomed strain of gravity. A walk would give her a chance to loosen up a bit. She needed to be ready for anything.
After an hour of walking along the endless white corridor without finding anything different, Mina decided to take the plunge. She turned to face the nearest door, took her gun in one hand, her helmet in the other and stepped through. As she emerged on the other side she gasped, “That’s just too weird.”
Chapter 7 – Spiders and Mummies
Battery Boy was woken by Jugger jumping down from the top bunk and heading out into the corridor. He’d slept only a little and his stomach was still grumbling. Battery Boy groaned, slowly got up and followed. Stuff and Pinkie joined them. From the looks of Stuff his night had been even worse than Battery Boy’s. Stuff was clutching his swollen belly and groaning loudly. Only Jugger and Pinkie seemed unaffected by the feasting.
“Let’s see if there’s any food,” Pinkie called out, as she headed towards the dining room.
However bad his stomach felt, Battery Boy wasn’t giving up on a chance to eat. He followed Pinkie. Jugger and Stuff were right behind him. The food and drink had been refreshed. Battery Boy, like Stuff, was a bit more cautious about how fast, and how much, he ate.
“Any idea what this place is?” Stuff asked, while sipping a glass of milk.
“No,” Battery Boy answered, not wanting to scare Stuff with his suspicions.
“It’s a bit like school, but underground, right?” Stuff persisted.
Before Battery Boy or anyone else could answer Purple appeared in the doorway.
“This is Apprentice Day and we’d like you to come along and join in the celebrations. If you’ve finished please follow me,” Purple announced through clenched teeth and invited the runaways to follow him. Purple turned away and strode off towards the far end of the hallway and on through the shimmering doorway, Battery Boy followed with the others just behind.
Battery Boy gasped in surprise. For a long moment he could only stare open mouthed and try and take in everything he was seeing.
Purple had led them into a vast hall. The ceiling was far above their heads. Everything was white and suffused with the same bright light that cast no shadows. Massive paintings hung at regular intervals on the otherwise bare white walls. All were full length portraits of an old-boy or old-girl. There was something odd about the faces that Battery Boy couldn’t quite make out. Purple called them on towards a small flight of stairs leading up to the top of a platform. The head high stage appeared to span the full width of the hall. It was blocking their view of the main floor area. They were standing in a relatively narrow space, wedged between the wall and the platform. Looking back, Battery Boy wasn’t surprised to find the door had disappeared, there was only a blank section of wall sandwiched between two of the huge paintings.
“Doesn’t make sense, we can’t be this deep underground, we only went down one little flight of stairs,” Stuff blurted out, looking around in amazement.
“Everything will be clear soon, please follow me,” Purple said, as he beckoned to them from the foot of the stairs leading to the top of the platform.
“Look for exits,” Jugger whispered to Battery Boy.
Battery Boy didn’t say anything but he knew what Jugger meant; he felt the same unease, the sense that something was not right. He followed Purple to the top of the stairs to get a better view of the hall’s layout.
Battery Boy’s jaw dropped as his head cleared the top of the dais and he could see the whole hall for the first time. Filling the floor were rows of children, all neatly lined up like little soldiers, at least a hundred lines stretching right and left in front of the stage, each line a hundred kids deep, reaching almost to the back of the hall. Ten thousand kids, all facing the platform. Each child had their arms outstretched and resting on the shoulders of the child in front. The children at the head of the row, directly facing the podium, had their hands crossed over their chests, clasping the hands of their companion immediately behind.
Fear rose like a palpable cloud of sweat, from the assembled mass, filling the hall with the smell of barely restrained panic. A constant rustle of small feet shuffling and nervous, laboured breathing, swirled around the hall as ghostly murmurs.
“There’s thousands of them, where’d they all come from, how many schools they got down here?” Stuff asked in amazement, as he stared open mouthed at the vast assembly.
Battery Boy couldn’t believe what he was seeing either. His school, Stuff’s, Jugger’s and probably Pinkie’s too, only
had about fifty kids at any one time. He’d never seen so many people in one place.
Battery Boy forced himself to stop staring at the child army in front of him and look for exits. As he turned away the huge canvasses captured his gaze again. He studied them more closely. The figures in the paintings all wore the same bland clothes everyone was wearing, blue or pink one-piece boiler suits. In each hand they cradled a large tablet of black marble, reaching half way up the arm and turned to face the viewer. Etched in bold white letters the left hand tablet was headed with the word, “Quality”, the right hand tablet, “Quantity”. Below each heading was carved a percentage, always more than a hundred per cent, sometimes a lot more.
The blandness of their pose only made the faces look even more horrific. Every subject’s chin was unnaturally jutting forward; their tongues grotesquely stuck out and curled up so the tip touched the nose. What made Battery Boy shiver in disgust rather than laugh was the parasite. Wrapped around their tongues was a hideous spider like creature, clinging on with a myriad of filament legs that covered the whole inside of the mouth in a fine mesh. Battery Boy wondered if that’s why Purple kept his mouth shut. Did he have one of those things behind his gritted teeth? In every picture the ugly insects had a row of bright red eyes, like tiny gems.
“I’m scared,” Stuff whispered.
“I can’t see any doors,” Battery Boy said to Jugger, ignoring Stuff.
“And there are hunters,” Jugger answered, nodding towards the back of the hall.
Battery Boy couldn’t understand why he hadn’t noticed them before. At least a couple of hundred burly looking old-boys were evenly distributed at the back of the hall. Each was holding an intimidating looking baton that sparkled at the tip with an ominous blue light.
“What they up to?” Pinkie asked, looking down towards the foot of the platform.
Battery Boy followed Pinkie’s gaze, and saw a line of old-boys stretched out along the bottom of the platform, each one facing a line of frightened children. Strapped to each old-boy’s chest was a cage holding a wriggling mass of threads sprinkled with shiny red eyes and the old-boys were wearing thick rubber gauntlets that reached up above their elbows. Battery Boy knew they had to get away from this; he glanced at the others. Stuff looked like he was going to wet himself. Battery Boy couldn’t see an escape route.
Purple motioned for Battery Boy and his companions to stay where they were. He moved away along the stage and climbed up into a pulpit Battery Boy hadn’t noticed before, and began speaking.
“Welcome, I know some of you are apprehensive. Don’t be, you are extremely fortunate. Soon you will be apprentices. Hone your craft, work hard and you will rise, perhaps to the very top. There are no limits. Everyone serves the QQ. Here in the basement, and all the way to the Heaven House. Opportunity for all and rewards for those who excel.”
Purple spoke quietly but his voice echoed around the enormous space. He remained at the pulpit, watching, as the basket carriers with the long rubber gloves stepped forward from the base of the platform and started slowly making their way along the lines of visibly tensing children. At each child the old-boy stopped, and tipped the youngster’s head back, then reached a gloved hand into the cage and pulled out a squirming creature with fine silk strands for legs and flashing red eyes. The majority submitted passively as the old-boy dropped the ugly thing into their open mouths. Some kept their lips tightly pressed together, a small act of defiance but it only got their noses pinched till they relented. Occasionally, more aggressive resistance disturbed the still lines as the basket carrier approached. In a flash, an old-boy guard with a sparkling stick was in attendance and the stillness quickly returned.
As the gloved old-boys moved along the line the children they’d passed bowed their heads, as though praying, silent and still, except for the bulging and rippling of their cheeks. A moment later the processed children raise their heads, a calm expression drawn across their faces and dropped their hands from the shoulders of the child in front to make the sign, an O of fingers and thumb with the smallest finger protruding beyond the circle, the QQ sign, the same sign Pinkie had demonstrated at the doorway. The change in the children was like a wave moving down the rows, a change in posture, a quietness and calm that blew away the cloud of fear.
Battery Boy was so mesmerised by the bizarre horror of the unfolding ceremony that he didn’t notice that Purple had come down from the pulpit and was coming their way until he was almost upon them. He was wearing the thick rubber gloves and had a basket of horrors attached to his chest.
“You’re obviously clever and you’ve showed great initiative finding your way in here. Just the sort of new blood we need,” Purple said as he closed on Pinkie.
Battery Boy grabbed Pinkie’s hand and ran, pushing Jugger and Stuff ahead of him. The four jumped down the steps and sprinted towards where the door had been even though there was nothing there any more, just a blank wall between two grotesque paintings. Battery Boy scanned the hall searching for any escape but all he could see was a converging crowd of burly militia, sticks crackling menacingly. With their backs pressed against the wall an ever tightening semi-circle of guards, batons held out to the side, blocked any escape. The guards stopped some way away, once the human fence was complete. Purple stepped through the semi-circle just as the sound of thousands of little marching feet started echoing through the hall.
“The choice is yours, become apprentices willingly or go to the Yard. An apprenticeship is a great opportunity and a resourceful group like you should do very well. The unfortunate old-boy you found in the wasteland went looking for people just like you. We need new blood. No one could prefer the Yard,” Purple offered, as though discussing the weather.
Battery Boy pondered how bad the Yard must be if it was worse than eating the spider. Just the thought of letting the hideous creature set-up home in his mouth made him feel sick. There was an exit somewhere on the other side of the platform; he could hear the sound of marching slowly fade as the processed children exited the hall through unseen doors. The old-boys completely blocked any escape in that direction. With no obvious alternative it felt like Worry all over again. They’d escaped just to be trapped again. Stuff cowered behind Battery Boy, shaking with fear. Jugger looked in no mood to just give in, his fists were balled and held up close to his chin, ready to strike. As Battery Boy desperately searched for options, Pinkie stepped forward and knelt down on one knee in front of Purple.
“You’ve convinced me, I’ll gladly eat your spider, drop it in,” she said as she opened her mouth.
What’s she up to? Battery Boy wondered. With a satisfied smile Purple reached into the cage with his thick-gloved hand and pulled out one of the horrible wriggling monstrosities. Holding it gingerly between gloved finger and thumb he positioned it over her open mouth. Before he could drop it Pinkie leapt up and punched his hand, flicking the wriggling creature into the surprised Purple’s face.
“Since they’re so good I thought you’d like two,” Pinkie shouted as she retreated back towards the wall.
Purple pitched backwards scratching uselessly at his eyes, cheeks and scalp with his clumsy gauntlets. Before the back of his head had hit the floor he was screaming in pain through clenched teeth. The thing had wrapped its thread like tentacles around his head and fastened its body to his eyeball. Battery Boy watched in horror as the tentacles burrowed their way under his scalp as though determined to dig straight through his skull to embed themselves in the tissues of his brain. Purple rolled around the floor for a few long seconds, screeching in agony and then stopped and lay still. The guards had nervously moved back giving Purple all the room he needed to execute his death throes. Battery Boy guessed he was dead when the spider released his head and started to move away from the body, closely followed by its fellow cutting through the soft tissue of Purple’s cheek and crawling down his chest onto the white floor. The hole left in Purple’s face immediately reminded Battery Boy of the old-boy he’d found in
the wasteland. It wasn’t a rat that had eaten its way out. Battery Boy watched as both evil looking creatures left a slimy trail of blood and gore as they moved aimlessly across the white floor.
“Don’t just stand there, go get them,” an old-boy Battery Boy hadn’t seen before shouted, indicating the wandering spiders, as he emerged from the wall of guards.
A couple of reluctant hunters donned gloves and chased comically after their prey.
“I’m Black by the way,” said the old-boy who’d directed the hunters to capture the spiders. “I never did like him, smartarse, good riddance,” Black said, nodding his head towards Purple’s body. “You’re a very spunky little girl, you’re going to really improve my QQ numbers. I can see the doorway to level one opening very soon,” he chuckled, through clenched teeth.
Battery Boy was still recovering from the shock of Pinkie’s attack to make much sense of what Black was saying.
“A new Purple will be along any minute to continue where this Purple left off, so don’t get any ideas. I’m not offering you the Yard option. Accept the apprenticeship, there is no escape. If you don’t co-operate these chaps will enjoy inflicting some pain,” Black added, indicating the circle of hunters.
“We’re used to pain, getting and giving,” Battery Boy answered defiantly.
“I’m mainly a giver,” Jugger snarled.
Pinkie and Stuff hung back, just behind the bulk of Jugger and Battery Boy. Black and the Hunters kept their distance, knowing there was nowhere for the runaways to go.
Without warning a new voice spoke up, “That’s just too weird.”
Battery Boy’s turned quickly in the direction of the voice, thinking a hunter had flanked them.
“What? Who?” Battery Boy exclaimed. Beyond the nearest painting, standing in front of the blank wall was a really old woman. She was holding a strange helmet, had a big bag over her shoulder and was dressed in a way he’d never seen before. She didn’t answer, just spun on her heels and seemed shocked to find there was only a wall. After a moment’s hesitation, she turned back to face Battery Boy.
