The Black Tower: The Complete Series

by David R. Beshears

  Episode Two / Chapter Two

  General Wong entered the command center, nodded sharply to Captain Adamson as he walked across the room to the communications station.

  “What’s the situation, Captain?”

  Adamson came up beside the general, the two of them hovering over Corporal Johansen at the radio. The corporal had had a brief communication with the team inside a few minutes earlier, but had since lost contact.

  “They’re on some sort of freighter,” said Captain Adamson. “Nonfunctioning, and they’re alone.”

  “It’s abandoned?”

  “It would appear so. And while the freighter looks to be one of ours, the ocean is certainly alien.”

  “Dangers? Threats?”

  “Nothing specific,” said Adamson. “They did report a single occurrence of some strange vibrations; lasted a few seconds and then nothing. They were unable to identify the source.”

  There was a crackling noise from the radio, the sound bleeding through Johansen’s headset. He pushed himself forward, adjusted a knob on the face of the radio as he listened to a voice from inside the tower.

  “This is Command Center,” he responded. “Hello, away team… hey, where’d you go off to, Ramos? Terribly rude of you. Over.”

  Johansen listened to the reply, grinned and gave a chuckle. “I forgive you. Say, I have the General here; pretty sure he’d like a few moments of the lieutenant’s time. Over… Okay, great. All yours. Over.”

  He stood and handed the headset to the general.

  “Thank you, Corporal.”

  “Strong signal, sir. But I can’t promise it’ll last.”

  §

  Asher stepped out onto the deck, leaving Lt. Quinn to his radio in the lounge. He found Sgt. Costa standing at the rail, hands clasped behind her back, eyes searching the horizon beyond the green sea.

  He stuffed his hands into his pants pockets and stared out at the same horizon. The sea, the sky, the world… all was dead calm.

  “Quite pleasant, in its own way,” he said after a long silence.

  “If you say so, Professor. I find the alienness of it all to be very unsettling.”

  “Yes. There is that.” He so liked the quiet, but there was definitely an unearthly quality to the silence. Giving it a few more moments, he couldn’t help but sense that if he let it, it would envelope him, swallow him up and consume him. “I see what you mean.”

  “A lot different than the last floor. And even more weird.”

  “If that’s possible.”

  “Oh, it’s more weird, all right,” she said.

  “I suppose you’re right,” said Asher, thinking it over. He wasn’t sure just what made it more alien than the first floor, but it was.

  “You know, I crewed on a ship,” said Sgt. Costa. She shrugged then and gave Asher an embarrassed half grin. “Well, it was one summer. I was eighteen.”

  “Really?”

  Another shrug. “Well, it wasn’t much like this, but...”

  “Still… I had the impression you were always army. You know, born in fatigues.”

  “No, not at all. That came later.”

  “So how’d you end up on a freighter?”

  “My uncle had a friend who had a friend, a favor for a favor; got my brother and me signed on. Nothing skilled, but we managed to earn our keep.”

  “Of that I have no doubt, Sergeant.”

  Sgt. Costa gave another half-hearted shrug. “What about you, Professor? I’ll bet you were born wearing a corduroy jacket with leather elbow patches.”

  “Hey, I haven’t worn that in years.” He grinned sheepishly. “Okay, I keep it on hand, just in case.”

  The surface of the sea was smooth as silk, not even the slow swells disturbing the glassy surface. So when there was a rippling a few hundred yards distant, it stood out. Sgt. Costa had seen it several times before, and it seemed to be following a schedule.

  “I believe our friend is circling,” she said calmly. “It always nears the surface at just that spot.”

  “Feeding, you suppose?”

  “You’re the professor, Professor.”

  “I’m afraid this is a bit out of my field.”

  “You’re what we got. You’ll do.”

  The rippling had settled, the pristine surface of green sea restored. Dusk was approaching, and the world slowly fell into a steadily darkening shadow.

  §

  Elizabeth Owen appeared to be settling into the Captain’s Cabin quite nicely. She had already found the aforementioned liquor bottle and finished off the last swallow. She was now getting the bunk ready.

  Ray Do had just left for the crew’s quarters that he would be sharing with Ramos. Lisa Powell continued to hover about. Once Owen released her, she would be heading to the quarters she would be sharing with Susan Bautista.

  Lt. Quinn wasn’t all that keen on having the team scattered along crew’s quarters, hidden away in the individual rooms. He would just as soon they all spend the night together in the lounge where he could keep an eye on everyone. But he had been soundly overruled by just about all of ‘em; most vociferously by Dr. Elizabeth Owen.

  Very well… he would post a guard at the end of the hall. The radio would be unmanned for a few hours, as he wouldn’t leave Corporal Ramos up in the lounge on his own. He could have him bring it down with him, set it up on the small desk, but it would be awkward, and truth be told, there was really little reason.

  Quinn stood at the end of the hall now, listened to the low rumbling of conversations going on in several of the quarters. Dr. Owen was giving her assistant Lisa a hard time, that disconcerting voice carrying all the way from the opposite end of the hall. Much nearer, Banister and Church were squabbling. They had come to a consensus on top bunk, bottom bunk, and yet both seemed to be voicing objections… not sure what that was about. One of them called out to Susan, asking her to intervene from her quarters next door. She gave them both a kind but firm retort and they grumbled themselves to silence.

  Professor Asher came down the narrow stairwell and into the hallway behind Lt. Quinn.

  “Lieutenant,” he said as he stepped around him. “Getting all the kiddies settled in?”

  “Will you be needing a bedtime story, Professor?”

  “Oh… would you?” Asher started down the hall, spoke over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later, roomie.”

  The lieutenant mumbled goodnight under his breath. He watched as the professor stopped to say goodnight to Susan before continuing on to the door beyond, the quarters that he and the lieutenant shared.

  §

  Corporal Ramos was standing watch at the end of the hall. Sitting actually, in the chair that he had brought out from his quarters when he relieved the lieutenant.

  It was late-night peace and quiet. There was a low, dull throbbing sound of the sea against the hull, a sound that he felt more than heard.

  That and the growling snore coming from the quarters where the two elderly scientists slept.

  He heard a muffled, shuffling sound, and a moment later a door opened midway down the companionway. Carmody stepped out. She quietly closed the door behind her and started toward Ramos.

  “Hey,” she said sleepily. “You are relieved.”

  “Thank you much,” said Ramos, standing. “All’s quiet.”

  “Yeah…” Carmody sighed and plopped herself down in the offered chair. She rubbed her face with both hands. “Good to hear.”

  “Okay, maybe too quiet. Don’t you go dozing off, Carmody.”

  “Man, when have I ever…”

  “All right.” Ramos took a step back, starting to his quarters, then stopped. “Ya’ want me to hang around a few?”

  “Nah, I’m good,” said Carmody. “Really. Go get some bunk time. Expect it’s gonna get busy around here in a couple of hours.”

  “’kay.” Ramos turned then and took a step toward his quarters. There was a sudden heave port to starboard and the companionway seemed to rise, glide and fa
ll. He had to place a hand on the wall to steady himself before the world again settled about them.

  “Whoa…”

  “What was that?” asked Carmody. “We been getting’ much of that?”

  “Not a smidge.” Ramos turned to look back at Carmody, still sitting in the chair. “Dead calm all night.”

  “Really? Really? You had to go with dead calm?”

  There was another heave, this one more violent, more uneven. Ramos was thrown against the wall and Carmody out of the chair and onto the floor. There were shouts and cries from the quarters.

  The ship shuddered, rose and as suddenly dropped, knocking Ramos off his feet. He struck his head against the wall. Carmody scrambled over to him as he rolled over and sat.

  “I’m all right,” he said as she reached him. He placed two fingers cautiously against an already growing tender spot on his skull. “Ouch.”

  “Oh, man. Purple heart, dude,” Carmody grimaced, studying the bump.

  “I think I’ll tough it out,” Ramos shifted about to stand.

  He was about to say they should check on the others when the ship rocked and jostled about again. He and Carmody both braced themselves against the floor and the walls. More angry and pained cries came from the rooms. Doors opened one after the other and people struggled to maintain balance as they came stumbling out into the hall.

  Lt. Quinn and then Sgt. Costa hurried to help others as Ramos and Carmody got to their feet.

  Once he was sure no one was seriously injured, Lt. Quinn called for Ramos to lead the way out of Crews Row and up the stairs. Heading for the lounge, they had to first make their way up on deck. The sky was black and starless, the sea choppy and frothy with foam, with rising swells and deep hollows. A strong, warm wind carried a heavy mist that soaked everyone moments after they stepped out into the open. Ramos stayed close to the wall as he led the others from the below-deck hatch to the lounge door.

  Entering the lounge, he noticed immediately that the radio was no longer on the counter. He hurried across the room and found it on the floor behind the counter.

  “Oh, no,” he groaned.

  Lt. Quinn was one of the last to come into the room, stepping around others that were heading for the couch or tables.

  “How does it look, Corporal?” he asked. He reached the bar as Ramos brought the radio up from the floor and set it on the counter.

  “Don’t know yet, sir,” said Ramos. “Nothing obvious. Give me five. I’ll let you know.”

  “Very well.” Quinn turned to the rest of the group. “Is everyone all right?”

  There were grumbles, but it appeared injuries were limited to a few bumps and bruises. Ray disappeared into the inner hall, came back a few moments later with a handful of small cloth towels.

  “Thank you, young man,” said Banister, taking one. His longish salt and pepper hair hung damp from his skull. He started patting himself dry. “How much sleep did we get?” he asked of no one in particular.

  “About four hours,” said Quinn.

  “Ah. Not so bad,” Banister said cheerily. “We can make do with that.”

  “Not much choice in the matter,” said Church.

  “And so, we make do.”

  “Yes. I doubt we’ll be getting much more this night.” Church braced himself, as did everyone, as the ship lifted and dropped, angled precariously as it was pushed to starboard.

  The world slowly settled.

  “I just had an unsettling thought,” said Owen.

  “That so?” said Asher, a broadening grin.

  “Don’t get snotty,” growled Owen. Then back to the group, “What if it’s like this every night?”

  “The thought occurred to me as well, Elizabeth,” said Banister. “We have no idea what is normal here. If weather patterns and oceanic conditions are cyclic, it is possible we could face this nightly.”

  “Then I must insist on a most fervent search for the gateway on the morrow.”

  And of course they didn’t really know when that morrow might be. The first floor had followed a twenty four hour day, with a bit more than eight hours between nightfall and sunrise. They as yet had no evidence that the same pattern would apply here, but if it did they had a few hours to dawn.

  §

  Lisa Powell watched the alien dawn from the railing. She noted the time and recorded it in her notebook. Eight hours, twenty minutes from sunset to sunrise. Come evening she would note the sunset and thereby document the length of the full day. It would take several day periods at least to determine whether the cycle was regular.

  They would hopefully be gone long before they could draw any conclusions.

  She put away her notebook and stepped away from the rail. She briefly considered going back inside, the door to the lounge was behind her, decided instead to take a walk around the ship. The weather had quieted, and the sea was calm. It was turning into a pleasant morning.

  She came upon Lt. Quinn up near the bow. He was sitting on a large metal equipment compartment, lost in thought as he gazed outward. He quickly stood at hearing her approach, for some reason embarrassed at being caught in an off-duty moment.

  “Miss Powell,” he said, stammering slightly. “Doctor.”

  “Lisa is fine, Lieutenant.”

  “Ah, yes,” apparently unable to reciprocate. “How are you this morning? Get the time of the sunrise recorded?”

  “I did,” said Lisa. She looked admiringly around them. “It’s turning into a beautiful day.”

  “Yes. It is. Especially after the wild night we experienced.”

  “I hope it doesn’t turn out to be a common phenomenon.” Lisa sat on the edge of the equipment box. Lt. Quinn settled in beside her. Their knees barely brushed the lower cross bar of the rail in front of them.

  “I expect we’ll all do our best today to ensure we don’t find out,” he said.

  “Ah,” Lisa grinned. “Doctor Owen’s strong desire for a ‘fervent search’ for the gateway.”

  “On the morrow.”

  “And this being the morrow.”

  “Exactly,” Quinn said with a sharp nod. He smiled uncomfortably. “So… have you been with Doctor Owen long?”

  “About a year and a half.”

  “And you… enjoy… your work?”

  “The work is very interesting,” she said, smiling broadly. She took a deep breath, slowly let it out. “Now Ray, he’s been with her a lot longer than I have; quite a few years.”

  “I see,” said Quinn. “I believe I heard that. That he… had been with her a long time.”

  “I admit, it isn’t always easy,” she sighed. “As you have seen for yourself. But I shouldn’t talk out of school.”

  “Of course,” he nodded quickly. “I don’t mean to pry.”

  “Not at all. I quite understand.”

  §

  Asher came out of the lounge holding a white ceramic mug in both hands. He stepped up to the rail as he took a cautious sip.

  It tasted like coffee, sort of. It was hot, anyway.

  He noticed a rippling on the water. It was that sea serpent again. Much closer than yesterday, though; barely twenty yards out. As he watched, the rippling took form, the seawater slid aside and Asher could see the smooth green skin of the creature. The curling hump undulated forward as the animal glided along the surface. It was glistening damp against the orange-red rays of the great ball of sun that was just rising above the horizon.

  It slipped back under the surface, leaving only the familiar ripple behind. Asher turned and absently walked in the direction of the bow, following the movement of the sea creature.

  The disturbance in the water drew nearer the ship. Asher saw Lisa Powell and Lt. Quinn up near the bow, watched them stand and look beyond the rail.

  They saw it, too.

  And then the monster rose up from the sea, a massive head on a long thick neck reaching up and up, its jaws parting, its dark eyes rolling back to black and Lisa Powell was suddenly half lost in the great mouth
. She beat at it with her one free hand. Lt. Quinn pushed himself up against the broad face of the beast and grasped the upper and lower jaws and tried desperately to pull the mouth open.

  Asher grabbed a rescue pike mounted on the wall as he rushed forward, thrust it at the creature’s neck like a spear. It dug in deep. He pulled it out and stabbed again. All the while Lt. Quinn pulled with all his strength as he pushed his feet down firmly on the deck and leaned back. If he couldn’t get the beast to release the young woman, perhaps he could keep it from returning to the sea just long enough for the professor to dissuade it and let her go.

  A shadow spread across the scene.

  Sgt. Costa, hammer in hand, ran up and jumped up onto the metal equipment box, used her momentum to leap up onto the monster’s head. She pounded at the skull again and again.

  The creature pulled back, trying to take Lisa Powell with it. Lt. Quinn used his legs to lock himself to the rail and held on tight. Sgt. Costa slid down and continued beating at the creature’s forehead as Asher pushed the pike ever deeper into its neck.

  Asher thought Sara Costa was probably doing more to dissuade the monster with the hammer than she would with a bullet, but he nonetheless would have liked to put the theory to the test. He wasn’t all that keen on weaponry in general, but he wasn’t totally averse to them. Okay, he had never had one in his hands, there was a scary thought, but right now he would have been totally comfortable with Sgt. Costa carrying one.

  Since firearms wouldn’t fire in here, such was not to be…

  Another swing of Costa’s hammer and Lisa pulled herself free. She fell backward and Lt. Quinn grabbed for her as he simultaneously let go of the creature. It slid from sight, slid into the sea, and was gone.

  Episode Two / Chapter Three

  Elizabeth Owen was writing in her notebook when Asher came into the lounge. He went to the coffee pot and poured a cup.

  “Coffee?” he asked.

  “Oh, is that what that is?” she asked snidely. She continued her scribbling. “I’ve been intending to ask. I didn’t recognize it.”

  “I’ll take that as a no, then.” He walked back to the table and sat opposite. He took a sip… yes, it could be coffee. He set the cup down on the table. “How is Lisa?”