It was a chittering.
Lots of chittering; like a million insects at once, all of them angry.
I was closer to the door, so I headed out and into the corridor first, with George right at my back as we got to the room. We were too late.
It looked like the same thing I'd seen earlier, and either it had retrieved its disguise, or there had been a sale of long leather dusters and wide brimmed hats. It stood behind the chair in which the Penderton lad still slept, unaware of the danger looming over him.
The chittering was louder now, bringing with it a vibration that tingled in my gut, growing stronger still as the noise level increased. It felt like a million insects, burrowing and cavorting in frenzy in me and through me. I screamed, but there was no sound but the chittering, and they kept burrowing, eating away at my soft innards and starting on my bones until there was little of anything left of me. I'd been hollowed out, nothing but empty space, darkness, and twinkling stars.
Some time later I woke sitting upright in an armchair. George slept in the chair opposite.
There was no sign of Andrew Penderton.
When I woke George and we went through to the bar, a watery sunlight greeted us in the front window. Whatever had happened, it had put us out for hours; plenty of time for whoever, or whatever, had done it to make away with the lad.
"What the fuck happened there?" George asked. "That bastard thing was in my head, eating my brain."
"Aye, that's what I felt too. Some kind of Jedi mind fuck is my guess. And I'm also guessing I'm not the only one working for the boy's father. I was just bait in the trap."
"So what now?" George asked.
"Now I'm going to Balloch to make sure no harm comes to the lad," I said. "And if any fucking wee green man gets in my way, it'll get a boot up its arse."
George didn't offer to come with me, but he did offer me backup, in the form of the sawn-off shotgun he kept under the bar 'for close encounters.'
"I've never been keen on shooters, you know that," I said, "I prefer to use my good looks and charm to keep me out of bother."
George laughed.
"Aye. How's that working out for you?"
He tried again to offer me some help.
"At least take a couple of the lads with you, just in case."
I shook my head.
"It's broad daylight. Your boys would stand out like a sore thumb in Balloch. Besides, daytime is good for me in this case. Have you ever heard of UFO abduction happening in daylight? No, these things prefer the dark; it gives them a chance to show off their expensive fairy lights. I'll be fine. I'll just walk in and have it out with the old man; there'll be no trouble. I could blow him over."
By the time I reached Balloch it was already mid-morning and I wasn't quite so sure of myself as I'd been earlier.
The taxi dropped me off at the gate of a large Victorian era house in a patch of woodland to the north west of Balloch, bordering on the shore of Loch Lomond. It was a secluded spot, made more so by overgrown luxurious rhododendron bushes and tall chestnut trees scattered in profusion through extensive grounds. I made no pretence of secrecy; I was a PI on a case, heading to meet a client, so I had my excuses ready to get them in early should anybody ask.
Nobody did.
I had a game to play here, cat and mouse to find out who knew what, and how much. I hadn't decided on an opening gambit until the door opened and the elder Penderton greeted me on the step.
"Mr. Adams, good to see you. Do you have any news on Andrew?"
I'd been watching his eyes; he'd be shite at poker, for he couldn't tell a lie without looking at my left shoulder; Jim Jeffries has the exact same tell, and I've taken him to the cleaners frequently due to it.
So, it's going to be like that is it?
I was going to push for answers, but not too quickly; if the lad was here somewhere, held against his will, I wasn't going to be any help to him blowing the case open too early. So when the older man stood aside to let me enter, I shook his hand, and stepped over the threshold."
"I found your lad last night," I replied as he showed me into a well-appointed library in the old, grand style, all oak shelves, mahogany fittings and whisky decanters. He didn't have one himself, but poured me enough for the two of us, but I was to only sip at it as he motioned me to an armchair.
"The boy is safe?" he asked, and again his gaze settled on my left shoulder.
"Aye. And he told me all about your little cult here," I replied. "Before I hand him over, I need assurances that he's not going to be harmed."
Penderton smiled.
"Assurances is it? Well, you've got nothing to fear on that score. A great future waits for him; for all of us. A future among the stars, not tied to this dying planet with its petty squabbles, a future of intellect and study where all are equal under scientific exploration."
"Well, that all sounds Utopian enough to me," I replied. "So why is the lad so scared of the prospect?"
"You know that already, Mr. Adams," Penderton said. "And we can stop beating about the bush here. You know the lad is already home; but we're glad you came for him, for you are a witness that cannot be allowed to tell his story. The world is not yet ready for such revelation."
"So what are you going to do? Abduct me and stick a probe up my arse?"
"Yes to the first, but as for the second, we have something far more interesting in mind; you shall join us among the stars and we will all go together into the bright new future."
I sensed it before I heard it, the chittering again, coming closer. I pulled the handkerchief out of my suit pocket and ripped it in two, intending to force the cotton into makeshift earplugs, but I was much too late. The noise got louder, a vibration taking hold in my jaw, in my skull and all down my spine, and again I had the sensation of being hollowed out to my core as I fell down into a black place full of swirling nebulae and stars.
I woke to a blinding light in my eyes and a distant hum that was all too reminiscent of the one I had fled my senses to leave behind. It was several seconds before my sight adjusted and I was able to take in my surroundings, and when I did so I half-thought I was still unconscious, still in the throes of a fevered dream.
I was securely tied, hands behind me, roped to a tall metal column—a support stanchion, and one of many that ran around the edge of a tall circular observatory dominated by a large central telescope. A dome of glass and chrome arced high overhead; in style and substance the structure was more like a Victorian greenhouse than a modern building, but it was a most impressive feat of architecture nonetheless.
The interior space was full of shining metal and sparkling crystal, a bewildering array of objects—obviously mechanical—whose purpose I could not even begin to discern. High above, the whole observatory was lit by two large shining globes of white light that seemed to hover without support a yard or so below the dome of the ceiling. A vibration came from the metal and glass contraptions—lights pulsed and static cracked, sending a short burst of blue sparks running up one wall before dissipating in the dome.
The younger Penderton was tied to the next stanchion in sequence to my right. He smiled thinly when he saw I was awake.
"Welcome to the future, Derek," he said, and motioned with his head that I should look to my left. Someone stood there with his back to me, bent over a long table, obviously intent on some task. It took me a second to realize it was not even remotely human. I finally got a good look at what had been under the long coat and wide-brimmed hat.
It was the size of a grown man, but looked more like a hideous shrimp. The body was segmented and chitinous like that of a crustacean, but this was no marine creature—it had membranous wings. The wings were currently tucked tightly against its back, giving it a hunched appearance, and judging by the size of the hunch, they would be adequate to lift its weight into powered flight—and more than large enough to look almost like a leather coat when pulled around the body.
There were no arms or hands to speak of;
I counted four pairs of limbs. The pair the thing used as legs—I use the word loosely here—were more stout and thicker than the rest, each being tipped with three horny claws extended to balance its weight at the front while a segmented tail completed the tripod behind it.
The other appendages looked more flexible and nimble, and as I watched, the thing leaned forward and delicately picked up a tool from the table. It turned slightly as it did so, and for the first time I got a good look at its face—or rather lack of one. Instead of features, there was only a mound of ridged flesh, pale and greasy, like a mushroom towards the end of its cycle. A multitude of thin snake-like appendages wafted around its head, and I took these to be the equivalent of sensory organs, although quite how they might function,
It was preparing for surgery. The older Penderton lay on the table beneath it, naked as the day he was born, his head completely shaved in readiness for what was to come. He was fully conscious. He saw me looking, and smiled.
"Now you will see the glory that is waiting," he said. "I will show you the way to a future without fear."
I have no idea what form of alien science accomplished what happened next – it was like some kind of flash magician's trick to my eyes. Within seconds, and with only a few deft strokes of a tool that seemed to cut and cauterize in the same movement, the back of Penderton's skull was laid open. The creature took up another tool and made a long slit down the length of the backbone, but the man was still fully conscious throughout, and showed no sign of pain or even discomfort.
"Goodbye, son" he said, and smiled. "I shall see you on the other side."
The crustacean thing moved aside to fetch a tall cylindrical jar of glass and silver. Penderton winked at me; the creature leaned forward and, using three limbs at once, tugged in a single sharp movement, swiftly lifting and turning to drop the detached brain and spinal column as a bloody mess into the jar, where it floated in a thick fluid, as if suspended there. The body jerked, just once, and then slumped—stone dead without the controlling influence of his senses.
There was more to come: the creature lifted the jar—which must have weighed several stone at least—and carried it to a long metal wall. With a wave of a limb, a door slid silently open to reveal a shelf running around the outside wall of the observatory, stacked tightly with more of the tall jars, each of which had a brain and spinal column floating inside like some mutant jellyfish. I guessed this was what remained of the other members of the cult.
Within seconds of Penderton's brain being added to the line, a misty haze of dancing light filled the space before us. It seemed to come from everywhere yet nowhere, accompanied by a distant hum. The light and color coalesced and thickened, hanging into a flattened oval. The surface dulled to a flat gray, and an image formed—a head, out of focus at first and then sharpening to clarity. Penderton's smiling face looked straight at us.
He spoke, echoing his earlier words.
"Welcome to the future."
The face turned to look at Andrew.
"Pure intellect, unburdened by the day-to-day need for sustenance, untainted by the filth and grime of modern living—no need for conflict or strife—an end to war. Join me, lad—the Mi-Go can take us away, show us the stars; we can travel out and meet our destinies."
The Mi-Go turned back towards us, heading for the Pemberton lad.
"Remember what I did in the steeple," I said, "if you get a chance."
The lad winked at me, then turned back to address his father.
"Now that I see what has become of you, I'm ready, father," he said.
The old man took that as acceptance, as he was meant to. The Mi-go, using talons as sharp as knives, cut the boy's bonds and led him toward the bench for surgery. Andrew dropped his left shoulder, rolled away and, still turning, put all his weight into a kick that caught the Mi-Go in what should be its groin area.
The result was immediate—the creature fell in a heap to the floor; and it was within reach of my feet. I stomped down, hard, my right foot sinking deep into its head. It came apart in a splash of gore. The thing's limbs thrashed wildly. Flesh sloughed and ran, hissing and bubbling in a noxious mess. The snake-like tentacles whipped and curled in frenzy before going still only seconds later. There was a last, moist, gurgle; then the top third of the thing fell apart in wet ooze. The tang of strong vinegar scorched my nasal passages.
"No!" the older Penderton shouted. "What have you done?"
"I've chosen freedom," the lad shouted back. "Freedom from you, and the tyranny of your kind. You can take your pure science and shove it up your arse."
He was definitely a lad after my own heart.
He went to where the Mi-Go had placed his father's brain and lifted the jar off the shelf before dashing it to the floor. Broken glass and spinal fluid lay among the spilled fluids, mingled which the still bubbling remains of the Mi-Go.
The whole structure of the observatory rattled. The globes of light dropped like stones and smashed into glittering fragments of glass and crystal, leaving us in a dim gloom. Old Penderton's image wavered, a shocked, silent, scream the last thing to be seen before it broke up into wispy shadows and was gone.
Glass shattered overhead as a vibration shook the whole building.
"Time to go lad. Get me out of here."
More glass cracked overhead, shards tumbling to crash around us. The coils and tubes hummed and throbbed, and a vibration ran through the observatory, setting the whole place shaking, building to a climax.
"This place is going to blow any second."
Andrew managed, with some fumbling, to get my bonds freed and, arms across each other's shoulders, heads down and crouching, we headed for the door.
We only just made it, although even so, the force of the blast when it came was enough to knock us flying into a patch of bare earth.
I spat out mud and turned to see the observatory collapse in on itself, the telescope itself the last to go as it tumbled down in a roaring cloud of dust and buried Penderton's remains under a mound of iron and glass.
Young Andrew was still trying to get up, still focused on the remains of the observatory, so he did not see it. Indeed at first I wasn't sure I had either—it was merely a darker shadow against the night sky, standing on top of the remains of the telescope. Then wings opened out, obscuring the stars behind them. It launched itself off the cliff and into the sky.
Something chittered in the distance, a million insects, fleeing the scene.
The last I saw of it was as it crossed the face of the moon, still heading higher, the wings unfurled and soaring.
FURTHER READING
If you enjoyed these stories, you might enjoy some of my other Lovecraftian works, like the novels THE DUNFIELD TERROR and THE CREEPING KELP or the stories in my collection DARK MELODIES. For more Derek Adams stories, including 3 novels, see THE MIDNIGHT EYE OMNIBUS
This volume is part of THE WILLIAM MEIKLE CHAPBOOK COLLECTION all of which are 99c in ebook, and are also available in print (if you purchase the print edition, you'll get the ebook free)
The Copycat Murders – a novella, first time in print
Green Door – a new Midnight Eye / Sigils and Totems novella
Green Grow the Rashes – A sampler of seven of my short stories. (FREE)
Tales of Death – Three tales from the great beyond
The Weird West – Three Weird Western short stories
A Ghostly Trio – Three Ghost Stories
Magic & Wonder – Three Fantasy Stories
Animated – Three Horror Stories
Fragments – Three Dark Fantasy Stories
Burdens – A tale of an Afterlife
Futures – Three Pulp Science Fiction Shorts
Tannis – Three Children's Science Fiction Stories
I am a Scottish writer, now living in Canada, with over thirty novels published in the genre press and over 300 short story credits in thirteen countries.
I have books available from a variety of publishers includin
g Dark Regions Press and Severed Press, and my work has appeared in a number of professional anthologies and magazines with recent sales to NATURE Futures, Penumbra and Buzzy Mag among others.
I live in Newfoundland with whales, bald eagles and icebergs for company and when I'm not writing I drink beer, play guitar and dream of fortune and glory.
OTHER BOOKS BY WILLIAM MEIKLE
NOVELS
The S-Squad Series
Berserker
Crustaceans
Eldren: The Book of the Dark
Fungoid
Generations
Island Life
Night of the Wendigo
Ramskull
Sherlock Holmes: The Dreaming Man
Songs of Dreaming Gods
The Boathouse
The Creeping Kelp
The Dunfield Terror
The Exiled
The Green and the Black
The Hole
The Invasion
The Midnight Eye Files: The Amulet
The Midnight Eye Files: The Sirens
The Midnight Eye Files: The Skin Game
The Ravine
The Valley
The Concordances of the Red Serpent
Watchers: The Battle for the Throne
Watchers: The Coming of the King
Watchers: Culloden
The Road Hole Bunker Mystery
Dagger of the Martyrs (With Steven Savile)
Hound of Night / Veil Knights #2 (as Rowan Casey)
NOVELLAS
Broken Sigil
Clockwork Dolls
Pentacle
Professor Challenger: The Island of Terror
Sherlock Holmes: Revenant
Sherlock Holmes: The London Terrors (3 novella omnibus)
The House on the Moor
The Job
The Keeper of the Gate Page 5
