A Voyage in the Near Distance 1: From Here to Nearly There

by Alec Merta

  I saw no Roman wall at the leasehold. It may actually have been there, but much of the land had been reclaimed by grass and weeds. The place needed a desperate amount of work. It was dominated by a single house. This was three stories tall and, as best as I could tell, looked somewhat livable. It was dark, of course, and gave the impression of being mired in solitude. In a time not long passed, it had held people and gleamed with the light of occupation. Now it was a monument, cold and dead.

  Allie told us to wait.

  We obeyed and parked ourselves about twenty yards back from the house. She approached it and gained entry. Her method was simple; she threw a rock into a window and clambered inside. She remained there for two or three minutes. All throughout, I kept peering around, expecting to see small shadows creeping toward us. I listened, and the odd scream could be heard emanating from the village.

  Allie emerged from the house about five minutes after she went inside. She walked briskly up to and then right past us. I heard her say “Let’s go” as she went. We followed.

  “What did you do in there?” I asked.

  “We need to call attention to ourselves.”

  “What? Why?”

  “They don’t like the spotlight.”

  It did not occur to me that she had failed to answer our question. I assume now that she was trying to keep Mr. Wendell from realizing what she had done until we were closer to the Hole.

  At any rate, it was at least a quarter of an hour later before we saw the first hint of fire. An orange glow began to shimmer in the mist behind us. I turned back to see the tops of flames starting to spiral into the sky.

  “Allie!”

  “Someone will see it. They don’t have a fire department here, so someone from outside will have to come and put it out.”

  “And when they lose power?”

  “It won’t matter. They’ll keep coming, and eventually this place will be crawling with people. Spotlight.”

  I had to admit she was correct. God only knew what the screams we had heard coming from the village had meant. No matter, for we and the villagers needed help, and Allie had called for it. If Mr. Wendell had noticed, he said nothing. I believe he understood what had transpired.

  Also, I don’t think he liked Mr. Stanholpe very much.

  We trod on.

  We were about two miles from the Hole, by my reckoning, when everything went pear-shaped. Allie was just coming down a hill with Mr. Wendell in front and me courageously keeping up the rear. I was falling into that ambling frame of mind where you just step and step and step. I had not been looking up when Mr. Wendell spoke.

  “What the devil is that?” he said.

  What it was, to me, was pretty damn obvious.

  Had the night been clear, I would have thought the lone, white light to have been Venus or Sirius. That would have been a forgivable mistake under the circumstances. But the night was hardly clear, and no planet or star should have been visible. None was.

  It hung in front of us and slowly, steadily grew in brightness. A pure white sphere descending from the heavens to meet us. I knew the light was affixed to the underside of a great flying machine.

  I cast my gaze about in search of cover. There were trees some distance away, and only a few modest bushes lay close at hand. I knew those would be useless. I knew the trees would also be useless. It was all useless. This thing, whatever it was, had found us. It had not been dissuaded by our feeble attempts at flight. No matter what we had done, the moment was upon us. We were finished.

  I tracked the thing as it approached. The fog seemed to lift from all around us as it did so. This may have been caused by the craft, or it may have been the universe setting the stage for confrontation.

  Mr. Wendell kept walking, unaware of the danger before him. Allie shouted for him to stop, and he complied only so that he could turn around and ask why. I will never forget watching him. In an instant, the distant white light was upon us. It illuminated him from behind; a man standing in the path of an on-rushing train. He was transformed from a person into a black cutout. I felt heat and began to remember Allie’s words concerning radiation sickness. A knot tied my stomach.

  Mr. Wendell turned back to look at the lights. I say ‘lights’ because there were many of them visible now. Not only the bright beacon on the underside and the red corner lights, but also a row of rectangular white lights that ran along the edge of the thing. These put me in mind of windows, and I began to peer inside. To my horror, I distinctly saw figures standing there, much like passengers on a cruise ship greeting a new port of call. They were observers. God, but there were a lot of them.

  The first shaft of light emerged from a spot near the great beacon. It reached toward the ground and nearly touched before turning ninety degrees. It crept forward in our direction. Allie and I watch in disbelief as Mr. Wendell did the most curious thing.

  He began to approach the light.

  “Stop!” I shouted. Allie did the same.

  He did not turn back or acknowledge us in any way. I repeatedly yelled at him, but there was no effect. He did not turn back.

  “Don’t bother,” Allie said. “It’s too late.”

  “What? Why do you say that?”

  “It’s that thing. It plays with your head. Compels you.”

  “And us? Is that going to happen to us?”

  She did not get the chance to reply. The great, aching sound of gears being ground down filled our ears. It had been the same before, when the craft (was it the same craft?) had been frightened away by military jets. For an instant, I hoped to see the same show of force and witness this object retreating into the distance.

  It was not so.

  Rather, I watched dumbstruck as the white shaft of light rocketed forward and pierced Mr. Wendell through his torso. There was no blood or gore. Indeed, he did not seem to be visibly injured. Instead, he simply fell limp; impaled by pure energy.

  He rose into the air. His arms hung at his side; his legs dangled.

  In my horror, I looked from him to the craft. From seemingly out of nowhere a half dozen or so beings had appeared on the ground. They stood awash in light. I saw no details in their appearance, for the light backlit them so. They stood, still and menacing. Together, we all watched as Mr. Wendell rose farther up into the air.

  He was consumed in the light. I do not mean to say he dissolved or was literally eaten, rather I mean for you to understand that he was swallowed up in pure, radiant light. ‘Radiant’ may well have been the apt word, as the heat burning my skin was surely charged with radiation. Poor Mr. Wendell must have received a fatal dose.

  In all the excitement, I had failed to notice my feet beginning to move. When I did, I felt a detached sense of curiosity. That was not supposed to be happening, was it? I found it hard to care. All the world was a swirling rush of light and sound. It was all quite pleasant. Really quite ordinary.

  The shaft of white light that was to pierce my body and take me away dropped leisurely from the craft. I paid it little mind as it bent in its familiarly impossible way and made steady progress toward me. It was really quite lovely; all swirling light and shimmering colors. I could have looked at it forever. Indeed, I made up my mind to do just that. It was just that beautiful.

  Then the world exploded.

  In all my life, I have never heard a sound so loud. Allie had placed the muzzle of the shotgun no more than two feet to my right. Her aim had been at the creatures, but it had also been contemplated so as to deliver much of the gun’s rapport directly into my ears. Mission accomplished.

  The sound shook me back into waking. I blinked my eyes and saw the shaft of light a mere foot or so in front of me. I screamed and jumped out of its way. The creatures, seemingly perturbed but unharmed by Allie’s interruption, began to move. Their shadows crossed with each other and cast ripples of darkness across the land. The shaft of light halted in its progress.

  “Run!” she screamed at me.

  I fled with as much has
te as I could manage. I thought she had done the same, but when I turned back I saw her standing there. She had apparently become enthralled as I had been. As poor, doomed Mr. Wendell still was. If he remained alive.

  I could not leave her behind, no matter the circumstances. I simply refused to give in to the futility of it all. Having no options, I stopped and searched for cover. I found it, modestly, behind a clump of bushes. I crouched down and racked my mind for a plan. Nothing, not a hint of an idea, came to me.

  Allie remained standing in the light. I considered finding a large rock to strike her with in the hopes of bringing her around. It was just too horrible to behold, and I had to do something. Her body was rigid and held in place by the machinations of these foul beings. But, no. No, that was not quite right.

  From my hiding place, I saw her right hand move softly behind her back. It deftly curled and reached into the back of her jacket. She manipulated something for a while, always giving the impression of being ensorcelled.

  The shaft of light reappeared and moved to take her. I dreaded the impending sight of Allie floating limp in the air; a rag doll woman doomed to some unimaginable fate. When it reached her, it did not lash into her body; did not pierce her mid-section as it had with Mr. Wendell. Instead, it began to curve and arch around her. The light seemed to be examining her. It reminded me of a dog sniffing a person it recalled distantly. I felt almost as though it knew her.

  The light wove around her in an almost sensual fashion. Finally, it came to her face. The terminus stared directly into her eyes. If she was faking, she was doing a masterful and courageous job. She moved not a muscle, save the hand at her back.

  Finally, the light arched back like a cobra ready to strike. It reached its apex and lunged toward her. I knew this was the end. This would be the death of Allie.

  Her right hand came around from her back in a flash. She held an object, something small and shiny. It was a metal square of some sort, although I could make out no details.

  The shaft of light struck the square. As it did, the great, grinding sound of gears returned. It was tenfold as loud as before, a hundred times angrier. It sounded like a beast suffering tremendous pain.

  The shaft of light flickered and went out. The creatures on the ground began to move in a hasty and confused fashion. At the same instant, all the lights on the craft flickered. A rainbow of colors wheeled around the edge of the triangle. Its edges began to dip and rise, and the whole thing seemed to wobble.

  As I watched, Allie darted away and ran straight for me.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  I nodded. Then I hugged her. I hugged her deeply and felt like weeping. The weariness and the emotion of that day came crashing into me like an ocean falling on a beach.

  “What now?” I said as I released her.

  “No clue.”

  I gestured to the metal square. I could make out few more details even at that close range, but I thought it looked like a portrait. It seemed quite old.

  “What is that thing?”

  “A hunch. It paid off.”

  I knew she would remain obtuse, so I asked nothing more.

  We both looked at the craft. It was still in the throws of distress, but it seemed to be righting itself. How much time had we bought? Ought we to run? How far would we get before it was able to pursue us once again?

  “How far from the Hole are we?” I asked.

  “Almost two miles. And we have to hike down into it.”

  “And,” I said before she could, “That thing is between us and it.”

  Our brief respite seemed at an end. The rainbows had ceased, and the crafted wobbled no more. There were no creatures evident on the ground, but I knew they would return. We had bought ourselves two, maybe three minutes. It would not be enough.

  Inevitably, the craft regained its stability. I steeled myself so as to remain master of my will for as long as possible. Could I fight the machine? There was no way of knowing until the moment came to try.

  When the spikes of light re-emerged from the craft, they did so in legion. The triangle exuded at least a dozen, and they were different this time. Instead of bright blue-white, they emitted a rainbow of colors. Instead of moving with deliberation, now they struck wildly like the arms of a sea monster. They sought for us.

  As I feared, the enthrallment began again. I fought it but still felt the will draining from me. Damn them. I struggled on.

  Allie placed her hand on mine. I thought this to be a gesture of mutual support and, if I may risk overindulgence, fond farewell. One last moment of human kindness before a ghastly fate began to unravel. But this was not so. I felt an object in her hand, and she held it in contact with both of our bodies. It was the same object that had so distressed the beam of light that had attempted to take Allie.

  I looked at it now, but could still only see a piece of it. The rest was obscured beneath Allie’s hand. What I saw confirmed my previous observation that it was a portrait of some kind. A metal frame (silver perhaps?) covered its edges. Within this, there was a square wooden tablet only an inch or so on a side. It was very old, of that I had no doubt. I saw the top of a person’s head. It was painted in the style of a Byzantine icon. I could not make out any details of the figure represented upon the thing.

  We knelt there, hand-in-hand. We waited. I heard the wind pick up and begin to blow madly all around us. The shafts of light were upon us. I looked up and saw them dancing about in a mad show of light that would, under other circumstances, have been quite lovely to behold.

  We waited for them to strike. I waited for my mind to cease functioning and for my feet to begin walking by their own accord. This did not happen, and I felt no sense that control was being taken away from me.

  Finally, they struck us. A dozen of them arched back and attacked us all at once. I closed my eyes and anticipated my death. This was the second time I had done so on the same day.

  A curious thing happened when they made contact. At first I thought I had died, for the noise of the world vanished. I looked up, unsure what to expect. What I saw shook me to my core.

  The world had gone still. The leaves in the trees did not move. No thunder or lightning disturbed the sky. No wind blew. All was still. The beams of light had frozen in the air, and the ship they were tethered to hovered even more calmly than before.

  I looked down at Allie. She too was frozen. Her eyes were closed, and she had taken on the look of a statute. I called to her, but my voice was gone. My mouth moved, and air passed my lips, but I could not hear the sound of my words. Even so, I called to her again and again. I began to fear that this moment would stretch on into eternity.

  Movement caught my eye. I tried to turn my head, but I could not do so. In the corner of my eye, the movement grew. A shape floated past me to the right. I say that it floated because I cannot describe if it walked or hovered. With agonizing slowness, I forced my eyes to move in their sockets. This was intended to obtain a better view.

  I saw a figure, like that of a man. It floated toward us. I could see no detail, but the impression came to me that this was a man walking out of the fog toward the unnatural scene I played a part in. The figure, having reached us, stretched out an arm. Its hand gripped the shafts of light. Another arm came forward and did the same. Somehow, the figure managed to place its hands upon all of the dozen or so shafts of light.

  It rent them to pieces. At first they bent in his hand. Then, the arms pulled back and tore them from the craft. The figure pulled and pulled until its hands held onto the middle of each shaft of light. It cracked them all in two and let the remains fall to the ground. These began to thrash and whip as they died. I knew they were dying. I knew they understood this as well. The lights flickered and twitched in horrific agony.

  The figure began to depart even as the lights were still dying. As it did, I lost sight of whoever it was. Just before time and reality started to function normally, I felt a hand on my back. It remained there only a moment befor
e it was lifted, and time resumed.

  Instantly, the world was filled with the great machine-sounds of the stricken craft. The shafts of light emitted screams that echoed in my mind, not my ears. I sensed pain and fear. I felt grief and rage.

  They died. They became silent. They vanished.

  The dramatic reversal had its effect on the triangle craft as well. In a moment, the machine-sound rose to a new pitch and volume. Then the craft was gone. We were alone.

  Allie and I both fell to the ground. I may have passed-out, for my memory of the next few minutes is void. At some point, I began to hear sounds. I was so consumed by relief and weariness, that I did not hear the approaching aircraft until they were upon us.

  I almost began to weep with joy as the manmade craft hovered above us. Allie rose to her feet, her arms waving frantically. She was screaming and yelling words that I could not make out.

  The helicopter stayed over us for a minute. Eventually, we realized that it meant to land, and we were occupying the only decently flat piece of land for some distance. I rose painfully, and we beat a hasty course away to gave it a wide berth.

  The machine came to a rest, and its rotors slowed. The pilot did not stop the engine, but let it remain idle. I saw that it was not a military helicopter. Rather, it was an expensive-looking private craft. There was a number on its tail that meant nothing to me. On the side was an insignia whose meaning also eluded me, but I did think I had seen it before.

  A door slid open, and a single occupant emerged. He ducked his head and ran toward us. When he neared, he righted and began to shout. You could have knocked me down with a feather when I recognized the man I had run into on the Moors that very morning.

  “Allison, my dear, are you all right?” He shouted.

  She shouted in return, “Better now! Let’s get the hell out of here. Please.”

  He nodded and turned back to the helicopter. Allie followed. She made it a few steps before turning back to look at me. I stood still, my hand shielding my face from the violently moving air.

  “Are you coming?” she asked.