Gateway Through Time

by David Kernot

  Emerson waved goodbye, and once the vehicles were a safe distance away, the pilot gave him the thumbs up and turned on the ignition. The four giant rotor blades turned in unison, slowly at first, and they increased in speed until fine sand obliterated their view. The helicopter lifted from the ground a few meters, then higher above the cloud of sand. It rotated through 360 degrees, raised itself higher, nose down, and headed north-west across the gibbous landscape of the Simpson Desert. Toward what remained of the decimated township of Alice Springs.

  Emerson's goal was to destroy the serpent before the two land rovers arrived.

  "You want a quick lesson on the weapon system?" said the pilot in Emerson's headset.

  "Sure," he replied. "This thing has small arms fire and some laser-guided munitions."

  "You've been doing some research," replied the pilot. "Impressive."

  "It's the boy scout in me, even if there's no jungle down there." He grinned, not sure if referencing the unique friendship between Rudyard Kipling and Baden-Powell would be a good thing.

  "I will try to come at it from higher up, maybe with the sun behind me so it has trouble seeing us. It should make it easier to target it too."

  "Roger that. Remind me where the controls are."

  Emerson listened as the sparsely treed desert sped by. He took in the pilot's quick lesson, aware that time was not on their side, and Emerson would have little chance to get it right.

  He closed his eyes and imagined he was alone in his room. He ignored the sensation of floating on a cloud of five hundred meters up and adopted the horse-riding stance. His hips pressed into the co-pilot’s chair. He thrust his right arm out, twisted it counter-clockwise, so his palm was vertical. Rotated clockwise and held his palm upright. He retracted it toward him. Thrust his prosthetic arm out, twisted his wrist both counter and clockwise, and he pumped each arm backward and forward, forming a striking fist as he extended his arms six times. He took a breath and relaxed. The helicopter's rotors settled in his consciousness again and roared in his ears. He gripped the firing controls and faced the pilot.

  "Ready?" The pilot raised his eyebrows. No sense of judgement.

  Emerson nodded. He could have said he had just taken control of an alien device, and his prosthetic was his own.

  Ahead, the remnants of Alice Springs loomed. The pilot climbed as he approached the township and hovered for a moment. Below them, the decimated airport smoked. Black and charred burnt-out aircraft carcasses littered the surrounding terminal. Acidic striations along the runway where the concrete had bubbled, and several blackened planes sat abandoned. Cracks emanated out from the middle of the aircraft runway. An enormous hole in the center of them seemed too circular, too perfect.

  In the distance, the winged serpent appeared, and Emerson cringed. An eldritch scream echoed across the desolate landscape. Some challenge. One that the pilot seemed unconcerned about.

  "Here we go." The pilot twisted the controls, and the helicopter lurched forward and headed toward the serpent. "Remember, laser guidance controls on the left joystick, firing, and weapon system selection on the right."

  "Got it."

  "Keep the laser-sighted until the missile hits the target."

  "Roger." Emerson lifted himself up in the seat and leaned forward to peer into the targeting screen. He aimed the laser crosshairs on the serpent's head and tracked it across the serpent's body as it twisted in the air below them. He braced and thumbed munitions #3 and pressed the launch button on the controls. The helicopter buffeted in flight, and a missile launched, made its way straight toward the serpent. Emerson tracked the missile's trajectory and turned his attention to the laser range-finder, ensuring that the target was within the crosshairs. Ten seconds and it would be over. He could visit Amye. Maybe. At least he could see Grams.

  The serpent dove below the helicopter, out of the laser-finder view. "Quick, it's moved away. I lost sight of it!"

  "Hang on," said the pilot. "I'll get level with it. Get ready to fire again." The pilot titled the nose of the helicopter and rotated through 360 degrees. Emerson heard the explosion of the earlier missile explode behind them.

  Again, he aimed the laser crosshairs on the serpent's head and tracked it over the creature's extensive body. He braced, pressed the launch button, waited for the helicopter to twist in flight, and then he tracked the missile's trajectory down as it made its way to the serpent. This time, Emerson expected the creature to move, and he tracked it in the video display more closely. It twisted left and right, its flight was symmetric, almost predictive, and at one level, very majestic. Carefree. Hypnotic in its flight. An almost entropic equation, as it seemed to calculate each twist and turn.

  Five seconds remained. Three, and the serpent slowed. Pain stabbed his left arm, just above the stump that joined his prosthetic. His arm jerked, and the joystick twisted hard left. The laser sight veered away from the serpent, and the missile sailed harmlessly past the creature. Once again, the serpent dove.

  "Small arms fire," yelled the pilot and tilted the helicopter. "Quick bursts. I'll get lower."

  They followed the serpent down in pursuit. Emerson switched to small arms and fired bursts in the creature's direction, but they seemed ineffective. The serpent changed trajectory and levelled a hundred meters above the ground, above the cracked runway and the perfectly formed hole. The serpent circled, gaining speed each time.

  The helicopter got level with it. Emerson took aim and pressed the trigger.

  A hand reached out and grabbed his wrist and pulled hard, yanked it from the controls. Emerson looked down, dumbfounded. His hand. His prosthetic arm wouldn't let go. His prosthetic arm glowed, and an image appeared on the screen.

  A bulk of a man with a demonic, half-formless, snake's head and long patterned arms, like a snake's only at the ends, there were thick fingers. On each one was a bulbous moth, and sharp fang-like teeth snapped. Eyes formed and then changed into gnashing mouths and back to eyes again. The image tracked left across his screen, and the Pleiades constellation appeared. It too moved off the screen, and a series of symbols flowed. Emerson couldn't make sense of the gibberish.

  The serpent headed out the sparse red-brown landscape. The ground below ground cracked, and a hole formed from the center. This time perfectly hexagonal, and the serpent vanished into it.

  Emerson's shoulders sagged. What could say? He shrugged. He wouldn't be going home soon. He glanced over at the pilot, and the man shook his head. Likely unhappy with Emerson's failure to dispatch such a large and easy target.

  The helicopter veered about and tracked south-west. About five minutes later, the pilot hovered beside a highway and lowered the vehicle on to the hard, dry surface.

  He shut everything down and stepped from the cabin. Two vehicles appeared, and they stopped. General Cobb, Stone, and Denna.

  General Cobb joined the pilot, and then they glanced over to where Emerson sat in the co-pilot’s chair. The pilot shook his head. Emerson wasn't sure what to do. He stepped from the helicopter and stood alongside the pilot. He raised his left arm. "I think I'm connected to the serpent. My arm took control. It stopped me from the kill shot. General, I should not conduct any further planning. There are images, symbols, running across the screen."

  The general nodded. "I wondered as much. I wasn't entirely comfortable about the Knight Commander using the alien tech to give us an edge. I would say that it has taken advantage of us."

  Emerson nodded. "General, I agree, but what can we do."

  The general faced Stone. "I think it's down to Colonel Stone."

  "Me? You're not serious, general?"

  "Yes, Colonel. You. Denna, come here and see what you can glean from the man's arm."

  Denna stepped over. She looked hot from the ride across the desert. "Show me."

  He held up his arm and placed his right palm on the part where the screen was. The blood-flow from his hand activated the screen, and the same images and symbols appeared. Denna studied it. Sil
ent for a long time.

  "The Knight Commander was right, General," she said. "There is an image of Yig here. It has Cthulhu markings and artifacts."

  The general nodded. He turned and faced Colonel Stone. "Well, Colonel, I think you are more than well prepared."

  Colonel Stone sighed. He didn't look happy. "Which way did it go?"

  Emerson frowned and then pointed. "About five kilometres north-east from here. The ground cracked, and a hole formed. We saw it go in there."

  "I'll take the vehicle and have a look."

  ◆◆◆

  Andrew Stone climbed into the vehicle and frowned when Denna strode over. He started the car, and she placed her hand on his wrist. "Don't be that heroic guy out there."

  "Oh, I won't. I will only look so we have a better idea about what we are dealing with."

  "It's one of Yig's minions. The man-serpent. Keep an eye out for gnashing teeth and some Old One's other minions."

  Andrew cringed. "Shoggoths, you mean?"

  Denna shrugged. "Maybe. Just take care. I'm sure that Giselle wants to see you home soon, considering what you've gone through recently."

  He nodded. "I'm just wondering when it will end."

  "Maybe when the constellation of Pleiades arrives on our doorstep, and The Old Ones step out to rule."

  He nodded. "One time, I would have thought it all a joke. Impossible, but the more I hang around you, the more strange I see."

  Denna blushed. "It's in my DNA. I bring that out in men."

  He chuckled. It wasn't what he meant, but he let Denna think otherwise. "Take care of that RDX weapon. We may need it yet." Without waiting for a reply, he jammed the car into gear and set off in a north-easterly direction.

  He chuckled. Denna was amazing. Sassy, intelligent, marvellous company, and a wonderful ally, but she was definitely in control. A perfect officer. He was quietly proud of her.

  Andrew drove the vehicle faster than he was used to, and in the middle of the road, not expecting to see another car. He understood what was going on. The Old Ones. Gods from another time. He was King Author. He had fought Shoggoths, and another Yig monster didn't worry him. Ice carvings had come to life and tried to kill him. It was beyond human comprehension. He was beyond human comprehension. Importantly, Giselle waited for him at home. He needed to get this done. A firearm was all they needed. No RDX. No strange magic. The serpent was a reptile. It loved the heat. Perhaps he should stop at a takeout store and get ice to throw at it.

  As he drove, he didn't see much of the scenery change. Perhaps fewer trees and some introduced species, maybe, but not much different. Andrew drove around the perimeter of the airport. He headed north into the desert until he observed cracks in the ground. Then he parked the vehicle in the shade of a stunted Australian tree and pulled out a service revolver they had given him.

  It would have to be enough if it came down to it. The snapping mouth of a giant flying snake made for an excellent target up close.

  The sun's rays behind him sent long shadows in front of him. It made Andrew seem taller. Bigger. More of a threat. He marched into the desert, filled with false courage.

  Following the cracks, as they deepened, was easy. Waiting behind a fingerling of a tree that was barely a twig was something else. Andrew peered across the scant distance between him and the hole in the ground. It was puzzling. From where he stood, it looked perfectly formed. Eight perfectly formed sides, each the same size. Sixteen forty-five-degree angles forming eight perfect triangles. It was so perfect it wasn't natural. It was machine-forged. Artificially constructed. Very Stonehenge-like. Built by a higher power. Another way of thinking entirely. It was too neat!.

  Andrew stepped away from the pathetic branch, pistol in hand. A Heckler and Koch Universal Self-Loading Pistol, the choice of United States Navy SEALs and Australian Special Operations Command. Complete with 19 9 millimetre parabellums. A significant improvement over the earlier Browning 9mm pistol.

  The surrounding ground shook. Andrew looked back at the distant tree and realised there was no time. He took the safety catch off his weapon and pulled back the slider. Held it in front of him, ready for the worst.

  The serpent burst from the hole in the desert floor. It hovered ten meters from the desert trees. Andrew aimed the pistol at the serpent's head as it turned to face him. It looked right at him. Didn't see him and turned to survey the rest of the area before launching high into the sky with an eldritch scream and headed north.

  Andrew wiped the sweat from his brow and put the safety catch back on his weapon.

  Did that really happen? A grown man with his body lit by the sun. How did the serpent not see him? Andrew's shoulders sagged in relief. Perhaps it was an omen. Something important.

  He headed back to the car. Sat inside and tossed the weapon on the passenger seat. Maybe there was a simple way to defeat the creature.

  He started the car and drove as quickly as he could back to where he'd last seen the General and Denna to tell them the news.

  ◆◆◆

  Emerson had been studying the feed from his arm and using a classified feed from General Cobb's system. The serpent was nothing new and had its origins in Yig the man-serpent was a long-term threat. But the weak link was that the creatures hated fire. An incendiary device could defeat it. If they could get close enough, which he doubted, they might take it down.

  Emerson had borrowed an Australian Steyr from one of the support staff. The F88 Steyr had a cyclic rate of over 600 rounds per minute, but Emerson only had two 30-round 5.56 mm NATO capacity shells in each mag. Still, it might be enough in the right conditions. He took a breath. Whatever they were.

  The Canadian Colonel, Andrew Stone, seemed happy to draw on his RDX device and some small arms fire. It would have to do it. Two soldiers against a monster. What could go wrong? Everything would be fine. I that was only true. But it was what soldiers around the world did. Recently he had been in Kandahar in Afghanistan, fighting a former foe. The Taliban. Even there, they had been so much loss of life. Inbound into theatre, Emerson had held up his hand as one who was going forward from the staging point into Afghanistan. He'd stood there silently and watched the list of brave men and their photographs go across the screen in tribute to their service. So many brave men fighting for a just cause. In the Special Operations Force headquarters, he had walked down their long corridor. On either side of him, the berets and the bayonets adorned the photographs of Special Forces men who had served their country and given their ultimate sacrifice. It was a humbling experience. One he could never forget or compare with. This task was nothing like that. It would be nothing like the cost to those brave soldiers, and those other brave people around them in the Dingo lines in Kabul, the people in Tarin Kowt, and at Kandahar. There was no way to compare personal sacrifice outside of death. They respected all service. Men and women equally had suffered immeasurable effects.

  And now here he was in Australia, fighting an alien force beyond his comprehension. Alien monsters.

  They drove out toward the north-east of the airport, out to where Andrew Stone had been, and they took up a position against the sun. Andrew Stone had his RDX weapon and a pistol. Emerson had his Steyr, his wits, and an outdated flame thrower. Nothing else. It would be enough. Unprepared, it had to be. Denna had stayed back with General Cobb, handling logistics if everything went pear-shaped.

  A confluence of actions ready to go wrong.

  But nothing would go wrong. Or everything likely would!

  The serpent launched from its perfectly formed hole in the ground.

  Emerson was so close that he could have reached out and touched its reptilian skin. In hindsight, it should have been the proper thing to do, to reach out with a blade and slice the creature, but how could he have known?

  The serpent hadn't seen Emerson with the dying sun behind him. Emerson fired and let a full magazine punch holes into the serpent, but it didn't seem to slow it down.

  Andrew Stone ran out and used his
pistol to fire at the creature with his gun. It shuddered with every shot.

  Emerson swapped mags, aware that he had 30 rounds left. It should be enough.

  Stone lifted his head and laughed from the other side of the creature. He was a brave man.

  But then the monster shifted.

  It changed.

  It morphed. Became two. Three. Six. Ten!

  Each image shifted in and out of focus. And each time the head grew. One became two. And then, three. Huge Shoggoth eyes leaned forward and snapped at the surrounding air. Several mixed beasts. Hydras. Serpents. They seemed to change. Shift. Their bodies became more human like. More like Yig. The Elder God!

  There was no more time before it became too powerful. It had to die.

  Emerson fired. Selected bursts at a multidimensional beast as it shifted in space.

  Almost pointless.

  Andrew Stone joined him and fired another magazine from his pistol.

  And yet the creatures didn't seem to care. They continued to shift in and out of view. Perhaps they were in different dimensions. Various multiverses. Something else, but different. Andrew fired at them all. Emerson fired at them all too. Hoping to make a difference, but it didn't seem like it was having any impact.

  The creature's many long-necked heads reached forward towards them both. Emerson cringed. What was he going to say to Grams? No farewell. No goodbye. He fired at the beast's many shifting necks and heads and eyes with teeth.

  Emerson fired the remaining rounds and then brought his flame thrower on the various creatures. Some caught alight and screamed as the flames caught. Others leaned closer, their snapping mouths closer and unconcerned by their other-selves.

  And then Emerson realised that he couldn't beat this thing. It grew closer, mouths wide open, and they focussed on him.

  Emerson put his weapons down. The creatures grew close, smelling him, examining him. Taking their time. They stank. Their fiery breath made his lips curl.

  Then an explosion shook the ground, and he fell on to the floor. Andrew Stone fired his RDX weapon, and the ground shook. Still, the creatures approached.