by Joe Mahoney
Iugurtha stroked the creature’s head and shooed it back through the gate. “Off with you! Back to C’Mell. You would not be happy in this world.”
She took Ridley by the hand and led him to the gate.
“Where are you taking him?” I demanded to know.
She didn’t answer. Nor did she stop. I fired off a warning round. Buckshot blasted a jagged hole in the wall beyond her. It did not deter her in the least.
I lowered the shotgun. “Doctor, we’re losing him!”
Looking about as taut as a jellyroll at my side, Doctor Humphrey still managed to convey the impression of a man about to leap into dazzling motion.
He held out his hand. “Here.”
I handed over the shotgun, ashamed of whatever it was inside me that prevented me from shooting Iugurtha outright. As she prepared to step through the gate with Ridley at her side, Humphrey took careful aim at her back.
“Stop,” he said, “or I will shoot you. I mean it!” He began pulling the trigger.
A slender woman dressed from head to toe in black darted past me. She jostled Humphrey, causing the weapon to discharge. Humphrey cursed. The shot missed Iugurtha. Fortunately, it missed Ridley too, blowing another section of the wall apart.
Still running, the woman in black tossed a silver object about the size of a brick through the gate. Before it could disappear into the tall grass of the alien world, it exploded into hundreds or even thousands of discrete units resembling small silver flies that whizzed away into the distance. Meanwhile, the intruder somersaulted over Ridley’s bed and tumbled noisily into the space between the bed and the wall.
Undeterred by the activity surrounding her, Iugurtha stepped through the gate with Ridley in tow. The two of them had vanished into the purple forest within seconds. Dimly, I registered the woman in black climb to her feet and brush herself off, but her well-being was the last thing on my mind.
“She’s taken him,” I said. “Doctor, we’ve got to stop her!”
Beside me, Humphrey looked stricken.
I was Ridley’s uncle, his guardian. It was up to me to go after the boy and bring him back. I stepped toward the gate—a small, uncertain step, neither far enough nor fast enough.
Before I could muster up the courage to continue, a squad of armed men and women, silver crescent moon pins gleaming upon their chests, stormed into Ridley’s room. They streamed past Doctor Humphrey and me like a river flowing past rocks in its midst. The firepower they brought to bear on the gate could have wiped out an army. Rainer entered last. He relieved Humphrey of the shotgun before walking directly to the woman who had thrown the silver object through the gate. He helped her to her feet. She appeared unhurt, and favoured him with a smile.
Satisfied, Rainer turned and addressed the men and women surrounding us. “The gate is anchored. Good show, everyone. I confiscate it now in the name of Casa Terra.”
A great bellow of despair sounded beside me. It took me a second to realize that it was Doctor Humphrey, calling out his wife’s name. Before anyone could stop him, he lumbered forth and did what I should have done, had I not been such a coward.
He threw himself through the gate.
III
An Unusually Compelling Nose
As Humphrey passed from one side of the gate to the other, his cry of “Joyce!” was truncated just before the sibilant end of its single syllable. As a result, those not in the know might have thought that he cried out, “Joy!” and that he made his leap through the gate out of some kind of religious fervour. I knew better, and watched in horror as Humphrey disappeared into the wilds of another world, in what was, in all likelihood, a dangerous and vain mission to find his wife. And no doubt Ridley too.
“Commander Fletcher!” Rainer barked. “Get in there!”
A tall man with chiselled features stepped from the ranks. Fletcher, I presumed. Three other soldiers, two men and a woman, fell in line behind him. Each of them sported an impressive array of gear including camouflage clothing, rugged knapsacks, and arcane equipment strapped to their belts. I shouted silent cheers of hooray as they inspected their sinister-looking weapons. Surely, these trained men and woman would fetch Ridley and Humphrey back.
As Commander Fletcher stepped confidently through the gate, I peered over his shoulder through the gateway. I saw that extraordinary violet sky embraced by a mass of dark clouds. At a glance, I took it to be a cold front moving in, until I realized that not only was the weather changing, the land itself was alive with motion. I watched entranced as mountains levelled themselves, day became night, and fields and trees transformed to lifeless dirt and rock. All this occurred in less time than it took for the commander to complete a half-step through the gate and for Rainer to shout, “Abort, Fletcher! Abort!”
It’s unlikely Fletcher heard the command. He had completed half a step through the gate before becoming utterly motionless, one foot suspended in the air above the roiling surface of the alien world. Fletcher’s comrades, panicked, leapt immediately to his aid, clutching at his hair, his arm, the heel of his left foot, whatever element of him protruded from the gate to afford purchase. They tugged and yanked but failed to get Fletcher back into the bedroom.
The surface of the alien world settled into a rocky monotony not unlike the surface of Earth’s moon. Alarmingly, the gate’s perspective now appeared to be several hundred meters above the surface. Fletcher’s comrades redoubled their efforts to haul their Commander back to safety, but with no luck.
Fletcher unfroze with a violent twitch of his head. He blinked once, threw his head back, and screamed—at least, it sure looked like he screamed, though I could not actually hear it on my side of the gate.
Horribly, Fletcher’s body diffracted and elongated until it stretched hundreds of meters toward the alien surface. When it reached the point of maximum elasticity, the part of him that remained in his fellow soldiers’ grasp slipped free and shot forward with tremendous speed. How fast that part of him was going when it joined the rest of him and hit the ground I couldn’t guess—but it was fast enough to make it one of the most gruesome deaths I could ever imagine.
My knees felt wobbly. I fell into the chair at Ridley’s desk. From there, I listened as Rainer spewed profanity and barked instructions to his people with barely suppressed emotion. I watched his team search the room, scouring closets and drawers, and running what I supposed to be scanning devices over the floor, walls and ceilings. A separate team removed furniture from the room, while yet another carried in elaborate racks of equipment. I did not have the strength to protest any of this.
I summoned up just enough energy to get up and go downstairs to the den. I poured myself a scotch, slumped on the couch, and stared dumbly at the wall for God knows how long before Rainer came in and sat down opposite me.
“Sorry about your people,” he said. “An unfortunate turn of events. Shame about Commander Fletcher, too. Tragic. But at least Fletcher knew what he was up against.”
“And what is that?” I said with sudden vehemence. “Just what are we up against?”
Rainer withdrew a photograph from his wallet and handed it to me.
I stared at the woman in the photograph, at her blonde hair wildly askew. She stood on the deck of a large sailboat, her arms encircling Rainer’s waist, a radiant smile illuminating her lovely face. I recognized that smile, having only recently made its acquaintance.
“But— But that’s—”
“My wife,” Rainer said. “Angelique.”
He retrieved the picture and put it back in his wallet, which he slipped in his back pocket.
“I don’t understand. Iugurtha and your wife are one and the same?”
“The woman in the picture—my wife, Angelique—does not really look like the creature you know as Iugurtha. If you look closely, you will observe that their facial features are similar, but not quite the same.
The entity is quite a bit younger, for example.” Rainer spoke calmly. Indeed, he might have been discussing the weather. “The body Iugurtha is using is comprised of several beings. One of whom happens to be my wife.”
He allowed that to sink in. Which it did—like an especially buoyant duck.
I shook my head. “I don’t understand any of this. One minute she’s a demon, the next she’s a genie, and now she’s Frankenstein. Which is it?”
“We believe that some of the people Iugurtha abducts wind up as a part of her. Literally. Her body, and perhaps even her mind, is made up of several identities. My scientists believe her eyes to be artificial, and I’m inclined to agree. Why they should be an exception we don’t know.” Rainer reclined in his chair, his arm draped over the back. “Mr. Wildebear, although it may appear otherwise, we actually have the situation well in hand.”
“Of course you do,” I murmured, though I couldn’t see how. One man was dead, Ridley had been abducted by a demon, and Humphrey was— well, God only knew where Humphrey was.
“We must remain positive. We’ve accomplished something quite tremendous this evening. We’ve anchored the gate.”
“Bravo,” I said, though I don’t suppose I sounded very convincing.
“You’ve been through a lot,” Rainer said. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk about it in the morning.” He rose. “Oh—one more thing. I want you to know that you may move about your house and property freely.”
“That’s very generous,” I said. “Considering this is my home.”
If he registered my sarcasm, he didn’t let on. “Would you like to know why I am able to permit such freedom?”
“Not particularly.”
“Because of how closely we are monitoring you.”
“Good for you. Wait—how closely?”
“Your every breath. Your every heartbeat.”
I assumed he was exaggerating. Still— “That can’t possibly be legal.”
“This is more important than the law.”
I was indignant. “How can something be more important than the law?”
“When it is to protect the law. You see, Mr. Wildebear, if we fail, there will be no law, or much of anything else. You need to know that any attempt to sabotage this operation or compromise our presence here will not be tolerated. Stay close to home, and out of our way.”
“Look,” I said. “I don’t want any trouble. I just want Ridley back. And Humphrey.”
“Of course,” he said. “I understand.”
I was glad one of us did.
He left.
I finished my tumbler of Lagavulin, and poured myself another.
And then another.
I awoke sprawled on the couch in the den. I stumbled to the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee, which I drank black, the two sips I was able to get down. I tried to make myself believe that what had happened the night before had been nothing but a scotch-induced nightmare. Surely Ridley and Humphrey were asleep in their respective rooms—it wasn’t unusual for either of them to sleep late.
Two strangers clad in grey overalls passed outside the kitchen heading toward the front door. They were carrying something between them covered in a brown tarp. One adjusted her grip on the tarp, allowing me a glimpse of her burden. An enormous bloodshot eye peered out at me from within a mass of red ochre tentacles. Beneath the eye was a gaping hole trimmed with several hundred tiny fangs.
The eye locked on me. I leapt from my stool with a cry, my coffee splattering every cupboard and wall within reach. The monster bearers either didn’t notice my reaction or didn’t care, continuing on down the hall out of sight. The front door opened. A moment later a truck revved up and drove away.
No longer able to deny the events of the night before, my impulse was to flee to Summerside and and arrange to sell this demon-infested house. I took a series of deep breaths. I couldn’t leave. Not if there was even the slightest chance that Ridley lived. I had failed him too many times already. I would not do so again.
Also, it was pretty clear that Rainer had no intention of letting me leave.
The door to Ridley’s room was ajar. I shoved it the rest of the way open. It clanged off something metallic that hadn’t been there the night before and bounced back at me. I stopped it with my foot and surveyed the changes a single night had wrought.
Not a single possession of Ridley’s remained to proclaim the room as his. Every single stick of furniture had been cleared away and replaced with rack after rack of scientific equipment. Several scientist types worked furiously, monitoring equipment and tapping rapidly on elaborate-looking consoles. Two soldiers stood in the centre of the room, directly before the gate. Another one kept an eye out the room’s only window. Ridley’s room was unusually large—it was actually the master bedroom; I’d given it to him because I didn’t need the space—still, Casa Terra’s redecorating had left little in the way of elbow room.
The soldiers appeared unconcerned by my sudden arrival. None of them so much as blinked when I leaned into the room for a better look at the gate—except for the one looking out the window. That one turned and frowned at me. It was Schmitz, the man with the bad breath and malformed head who had struck me in the tunnel. We locked eyes, and a chill coursed through my spine—I haven’t been on the receiving end of such a malevolent glare since my fourth grade teacher caught me carving my name into my desk.
I snapped my gaze away from his and focused my thoughts elsewhere. The gate now led to someplace new. Were I to pass through to the other side now, I would find myself in as harsh looking a realm as I’d ever seen: an endless expanse of ice, water, and snow. I felt distressed. What if Ridley was stuck some place like that? Could he even survive in such an environment?
I was startled by a voice at my side. “Help yourself.”
It was Rainer. He motioned toward a small table sitting in the hallway. “They’re for everyone.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“No, I don’t suppose. Mr. Wildebear, your nephew’s belongings have been safely stored. You can have access to them whenever you like.” He took hold of my arm and propelled me into Ridley’s room. “I have someone I would like you to meet.”
We stopped before a cramped workstation. He placed a hand on the shoulder of the woman who sat there. “Miss Sarah Frey, without a doubt the most brilliant extra-spatial analyst in the world. Sarah, meet Barnabus Wildebear.”
The most brilliant extra-spatial analyst in the world was so absorbed in her work that she didn’t even bother to look up.
“Sarah believes your people are still alive,” Rainer said. “I thought you might be interested in what she has to say.”
Sarah brushed a raven lock out of her eyes and leaned in to peer at her monitor more closely. I wondered how long I would be required to stand there. Abstractly, I noted that she had a pretty face featuring an unusually compelling nose: snub at the end, with a smattering of freckles at the top.
“I might be interested,” I said. “Were she to actually say anything.”
Sarah looked up at me. “I’m sorry.” She pushed her chair back. “Look. I won’t lie to you. I don’t know for a fact they’re still alive. All I know for sure is that what happened to Commander Fletcher didn’t happen to them.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Because what happened to Fletcher was a fluke. The gate doesn’t always lead to the same time or place. Fletcher got caught in one of its transitions. Thirty-million years elapsed in a heartbeat. Getting caught in that is what killed him. Mr. Wildebear, how much do you know about the gate?”
“Not much. Just that it appears to lead to other worlds, as crazy as that sounds. Iugurtha’s world.”
Sarah’s eyes widened. “That’s not a name you should say out loud.”
“Why not?”
“How can you ask that? You’ve a
lready personally experienced how dangerous the entity’s name can be.”
“What do you mean?”
“We watched the whole thing on the monitors. You said the entity’s name out loud and then let it in through the gate.”
“You mean Humphrey’s story was true?”
“Every bit of it. It’s all in our database. We can play it back for you, if you like.”
“No, thank you.” I didn’t fancy the idea of watching myself beat up my good friend Doctor Peter Humphrey. “Doctor Humphrey thought this entity of yours was some kind of demon. What is she actually?”
“Your friend is a little superstitious,” Sarah said. “I don’t expect to find any fantasy worlds beyond the gate. Still…”
“What?”
“There have been some transitions that have been difficult to explain.”
“Such as?”
“I wouldn’t care to speculate until I’ve gathered more data.” She glanced at her console. “Speaking of which…”
Rainer took the hint. “Sarah is working hard on getting your people back. Perhaps we should leave her to her work.”
Sarah shot me a brief sympathetic smile.
It did nothing to lift my spirits.
Feeling sick, I stumbled out the back door of my house where I paced compulsively atop the expanse of crabgrass that constituted most of my backyard. Before I knew what I was doing I was making a beeline toward the woods, Rainer’s dire warnings having completely slipped my mind. I forced myself not to think about the disastrous events of the night before and to concentrate instead on the majesty surrounding me. The countryside around my property is among the finest the island has to offer. The path to nearby Port Kerry wends through a forest of towering pine interspersed with poplar and birch. I savoured the soft crunch of pine needles beneath my feet and the twitter of forest creatures hidden from view. In time, the forest did its magic, and I felt capable of breathing again. The wind, whispering in from away, caressed not just the lofty conifers around me, but all in its path, and as it embraced me it breathed a simple truth into my ears:
