Indiana Jones and the Interior World

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Indiana Jones and the Interior World Page 9

by Rob MacGregor


  "Okay, what's it mean?"

  "It means that you are the only one who can take the alicorn from Maleiwa."

  Indy laughed. "I don't buy it."

  Salandra touched his hand. "Believe me, if there was another way, I would've done it. I tried, and I couldn't take it, but I found out about you. The staff showed you to me."

  "I suppose you believe in unicorns, too," Indy muttered.

  "Of course I do. It's not a matter of belief. They exist. This world is where the unicorns are from. It's where all your myths and legends arose."

  "I should've stayed on Easter Island. Tell me something that I can prove is true."

  "I was getting to that. You need nalca, and soon. You've got only a short time left."

  Indy wasn't impressed. "No one has given me any nalca since I've been in that cell, and I'm feeling just fine, all things considered."

  "Jones, they were giving it to you in your food. But Maleiwa ordered it stopped three days ago. That's why you're here. He wants me to watch what happens to you."

  Indy smiled. "You mean you're going to watch me dry up and crumble like a dried leaf?"

  "I'm not joking. And there is more to it than I've told you."

  "What more could there be?" he asked with a laugh. He rubbed his fingers over his arm. His skin felt dry. He realized his throat was parched. It was nothing, he told himself. False symptoms. His imagination.

  "You don't exactly die without nalca. Your body reassembles in a place we call the Land of the Lost. The place between worlds. It's not a very pleasant state of affairs. Once you're trapped there, it's virtually impossible to escape."

  "Uh-huh."

  Her skin seemed to tighten across her features and her voice, although not angry, turned crisp and businesslike. "Look, Jones. I can appreciate your skepticism. I even admire it. But spare me your sarcasm. I don't have time for it."

  "Hey, lady, all I want to do is get out of here." He stood up, and moved around the cell. His joints were sore. He ignored the pain. He tested the wooden door with his shoulder, but it didn't budge. He shoved again, harder. Nothing.

  "Stay calm," Salandra said. "Don't use up your reserves. There's a guard here who wants to help, but he needs time."

  Time, time, time, Indy thought.

  "I told him where to find a supply of nalca. Unless he has trouble, he should be here with it soon."

  "And if he has trouble?"

  She didn't answer.

  Indy's mind raced at the possibilities. Maybe the guard was lying. Maybe his friendliness had been a ruse to see if Salandra would reveal more sources of nalca. Maybe Salandra was a fruitcake. Maybe he was.

  "Listen!" Salandra hissed. Footsteps. The slit in the door opened. Eyes peered in on them. The slit closed.

  "Is it him?"

  She shook her head. "I don't know."

  A key jangled. The door creaked open.

  A man who stood nearly seven feet tall stepped inside the cell. His skin was brown, his head was shaved bald. He wore a long, pale blue tunic that reached midthigh and was belted at the waist with a wide strip of black cloth. His muscular legs were bare.

  "Maleiwa!" Salandra's voice gave away her surprise.

  His black eyes glistened. He spoke to her in their own language. "You should have listened to me long ago, Salandra. I told you my destiny would be to rule and to reshape our world... and his. But it's still not too late for you, Salandra. Join me. Your skills will be helpful on the outside."

  "Give Jones some nalca right now!" she demanded.

  Maleiwa laughed. "That is out of the question."

  The only part of the exchange that Indy understood was his name and nalca, but he got the gist of it.

  "What makes you think anyone will listen to you?" Salandra snapped. "They'll think you are crazy when you tell them who you are."

  "I wouldn't be so sure of that." Maleiwa glowered at her. "Did you know that my father made contact before his death? I'll tell you exactly what they had to say about him."

  Salandra didn't respond. Instead, she turned to Indy and translated their conversation.

  "We can speak his language," Maleiwa said in the same peculiar English which Salandra spoke. He turned to Indy. "Salandra and I have both studied your people, but my exposure has been very limited. Salandra's father was responsible for closing the gate to my father after he made contact, and imposing difficult restrictions on all the Wayua."

  "That was the United Council's decision, not my father's," Salandra said.

  "He was the instigator."

  One thought struck Indy. Maleiwa was going to his world, and in spite of Salandra's warnings, it sounded like the chance for a free ride. "Why don't you take me with you?" His voice cracked as he spoke. "I'll show you around New York. You'll get along just fine there. I guarantee it."

  "Jones, you don't know what you are saying!" Salandra snapped.

  Maleiwa glared at her, then smiled at Indy. "You don't understand, Professor Jones."

  "Oh, yes, I do. You want to go to Germany and make a deal. Why bother with Hitler? He's not going anywhere. I'm sure the president of my country would be glad to start relations with your world. Have you ever gone to Washington, D.C.? Have you seen—"

  Indy was babbling, trying to make some headway, but Maleiwa didn't buy it. He grabbed Indy by the collar.

  "—Grant's Tomb... the Washington Monument?" Indy finished.

  "You don't take me seriously. You think I'm a sideshow for one of your carnivals. You don't know who I am." Maleiwa reached inside his oversized shirt and removed a sheet of paper from an inner pocket. He handed it to Indy. "Read this. It's written by a man who started an organization in your world called the Golden Dawn. He not only knew of the interior world, but he was looking for us. This is what he wrote after several meetings with my father and those close to my father."

  Indy unfolded the paper. The letter was addressed to the Members of the Second Order and was dated 1896, and it was signed by Samuel Mathers. He began reading aloud:

  "As to the Secret Chiefs with whom I am in touch and from whom I have received the wisdom of the Second Order which I communicated to you, I can tell you nothing. I do not even know their Earthly names, and I have very seldom seen them in their physical bodies. They used to meet me physically at a time and place fixed in advance. For my part, I believe they are human beings living within this Earth, but possessed of terrible and superhuman powers.

  "My physical encounters with them have shown me how difficult it is for a mortal, however 'advanced,' to support their presence. I do not mean that during my rare meetings with them I experienced the same intense physical depression that accompanies the loss of magnetism. On the contrary, I felt I was in contact with a force so terrible that I can only compare it to the shock one would receive from being near a flash of lightning during a great thunderstorm, experiencing at the same time great difficulty in breathing."

  Indy stopped reading, and folded the letter. He wasn't impressed. He'd heard of the Golden Dawn and thought they were a bunch of misfits spouting madness. And here I am, right in the heart of the madness. He handed Maleiwa the letter. "I guess I don't get the same reaction from you as Mathers did from your father."

  "Because you are in our world. I assure you that on the exterior, my presence will be felt in equally dramatic ways. But you will never know. You don't have very long left. When you are gone, Salandra's plans will be dead, too. Then I will personally visit your world and the man who is going to be my ally."

  "What do you know of my plans?" Salandra snapped.

  "I have my spies. I know you've followed me, and you've been reporting to your father on my activities. And I know you were going to use this fool to steal the unicorn's horn from me."

  "Don't you realize the consequences of what you are planning to do?" she pleaded. "You will throw both of our worlds into total chaos."

  "Salandra, I've spent my life preparing for the meeting of worlds. I'm fully aware that millions will
die, but it's time for the people of both worlds to wake up. They've been sleeping far too long."

  "I think you're out of your minds," Indy said. "Both of you. I don't believe a word of it."

  Maleiwa ignored him. "I'll be back after you've watched your friend depart for the Land of the Lost. Then I'm taking you with me to the exterior, and you'll either cooperate or follow Jones into oblivion."

  11

  Out of Pincoya

  "Look, I'm sorry if I offended you," Indy croaked after Maleiwa had departed. "I guess I don't really think you are out of your mind. Maybe I'm the one who's crazy."

  Salandra was seated on the floor, her forearms folded over her knees, her cheek pressed against her arms. "Don't apologize. There's no need for it." Then, raising her head, she added: "I brought you here against your will and that's a violation of our first law. I'm no better than Maleiwa. I deserve the same fate that awaits you."

  Indy slumped down on the cot. He wasn't feeling so well. He needed more water, badly.

  A few minutes later, the cell door creaked open again. This time it was the burly guard with the wild, white hair and the eye staring off into space. He looked as savage as a cannibal who'd missed his dinner, Indy thought, and wondered what was in store for them now.

  To his surprise, the brawny fellow stepped aside, and a younger man half his size carried a tray with two bowls on it into the cell. He set it down, and glanced at Salandra.

  The guard with the nalca, Indy thought. He'd come through after all. The smaller man started to leave, but the burly one grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed his head against the wall. The man folded in half and crumbled to the floor.

  Now what?

  "Here!" The beefy guard stepped over to Indy and handed him a pouch. "Drink. Now. Quickly."

  Indy glanced up at him, took the pouch. He loosened the top and drank. Nothing here would surprise him any more.

  Salandra took the pouch from him. "Come. We have to go."

  They hurried down a winding set of stairs, following the guard. They entered another circular room where several more of the long-haired, silver-clad guards were posted. Their burly partner grabbed two of the men, slammed their heads together, and released them. They crumpled to the floor. He grabbed another one by the hair and cracked the man's head against his knee.

  One of the guards charged toward the door, but Indy tackled him and they tumbled across the room. Indy grabbed him by the collar, and was about to punch him when he saw that the man was wearing his hat. He slammed his fist into the man's mouth and the guard keeled over. Indy grabbed his fedora and put it on his head. "I'm feeling better already."

  Another guard grabbed Indy's throat and throttled him. Just as Indy thought his neck was about to snap, a chair crashed over the man's head and the guard joined his companions on the floor.

  Indy looked up at Salandra, who still gripped the chair. "Thanks." He looked around, then spotted his whip in the grasp of one of the unconscious guards. "You won't need this, but I might."

  The burly white-haired guard unlocked the outer door. "Go!" he urged. "You can make it."

  "What about you?" Salandra asked. Her brow was knitted with worry.

  "I'll take care of myself. Don't be vexed. Your father will prevail." He turned to Indy. "Stay close to her. You need her as much as she needs you." With that, he pointed to the door. "Go!"

  Salandra and Indy dashed out onto the open corridor that overlooked the great plaza. "Where to now?" Indy asked as he rubbed his neck.

  "This way." She darted down a wide staircase to the plaza. They flew past one towering stone statue after another and headed directly toward the waterfall. The gushing water produced a mysterious musical resonance that swirled around them like the mist that was weaving webs of ethereal rainbows.

  "What are we doing here?" Indy yelled over the sound of the water. It was hardly the time for a tour.

  Salandra fixed the pouch to her side. She tested the knot, then looked over her shoulder. "Here they come! Jump!" she shouted.

  "What? I'm not jumping in there. Are you crazy?"

  A dozen uniformed men rushed toward them, crossbows raised and ready to fire. She grabbed his hand, leaped, and pulled him with her.

  They fell through mist and water... and kept falling and falling. Salandra clung to his hand, but he couldn't see her, couldn't see anything. The fall seemed endless, and yet at some point he realized they were no longer falling, but rushing through the surging waters of an underground river. A powerful current hurled them forward. Indy gasped for breath as he bobbed up and down, and then the current pulled them beneath the surface.

  When he was almost out of air, they burst to the surface, and before he could suck in a deep breath they were sliding over a slippery, smooth rock face that was covered by several inches of water. They careened along on a wild ride through the dark at an incredible speed. At times, Indy sensed they were actually rising, rather than falling. He expected to be slammed into a rock wall or a boulder at any moment. But nothing stopped them.

  Then the bottom seemed to drop out of this embryonic world. Indy tumbled through blackness, head over heels, no longer grasping Salandra's hand. He struck water again, and plunged ten, fifteen, twenty feet. He kicked and clawed, then burst through to the surface, and gasped for breath.

  Salandra. He called out her name. His voice bounced off a wall, echoing in his face. Something was different here. Of course: The water was calm. He was in a pool or a lake, an underground ocean, for all he knew.

  "Salandra!" he shouted again.

  "Indy! Are you all right... right... right?" Her voice reverberated from somewhere nearby.

  "You're alive... alive... alive!" he answered.

  "I think... think... so... so."

  He paddled in circles, looking for her. He followed the ripples, reached out, and touched her arm. "Sounds like an echo... echo... chamber... chamber."

  He laughed. He was giddy. They'd survived the fall. She joined him. They sounded hysterical, their laughter echoing around them. A house of horrors, he thought. "Let's swim... swim."

  "Which way?... way?"

  "Any way... way," he answered.

  Suddenly, the water started boiling around them, its level rising, falling. "What the... what the..."

  Salandra screamed. Indy felt something rub against him, and his hand touched a slick, rubbery surface. Then something wiggled between his legs. He nearly leaped out of his skin.

  Salandra disappeared beneath the surface, then popped up again. "Indy, it grabbed ... grabbed... me."

  Fish didn't grab, they bit, but it was no time to argue. Then something gripped his leg and pulled. Indy reached down, and found a tentacle wrapped around his leg.

  "I think it's an—" He was dragged beneath the surface, held there, released. "—octopus... pus," he shouted. Salandra was pulled under again, and as soon as she surfaced, it was Indy's turn. It was playing with them, like a cat with a mouse before the kill.

  Suddenly, a massive mushroom-shaped body surfaced between them. An eye the size of a football stared at Indy. He punched it, and his hand sank up to his elbow in a quivering gelatinous mass, like warm mud. He was about to strike again when the creature started thrashing around, emitting a high-pitched sound, a whine, a shriek. Indy was catapulted with such force that he literally skipped across the surface like some large, flat stone.

  He landed on his hands and knees in shallow water. He shouted for Salandra, and his call was answered by the same horrendous whine, which echoed all around him. He couldn't tell where the creature was or how far away. A wave sloshed over him. Something grabbed his shoulder and jerked him around.

  "Jones," Salandra hissed. "It's me."

  He hugged her.

  "What did you do to that thing, anyhow?" she asked.

  "I poked him in the eye."

  "I think you taught him a lesson. He seemed like a little kid to me," she said.

  "Same thing I was thinking. Let's hope he didn'
t go get Mommy."

  They sloshed a few steps forward. The water was around their knees and it seemed to be getting shallower.

  "Jones!" Salandra's voice was filled with panic. "I feel something spongy."

  "Let's hope we're not standing on Mommy."

  Salandra stifled a cry. "Something's crawling on my arm."

  "It's probably just weeds. I feel it, too." He reached out, found her hand, and slid his fingers along her arm. He stopped as he felt something slick attached to her forearm. It was flat and larger than his hand. He grabbed the edge of it and pulled. It was like a huge suction cup. He held it up to his face so he could see it.

  "It's just a leech. A big one."

  "I've got another one," she said. "On my leg. No, two more."

  He ran his hands over his own legs and arms, and started pulling off one leech after another.

  "Oh, I've got them all over me," Salandra cried out. "Let's get out of here. Fast. I see land." She raced ahead, vanishing into the darkness.

  "Wait a minute... minute," Indy called. He slogged after her, still pulling on leeches. He didn't see any land.

  "Over here... here." Salandra's voice came from all directions. "Keep going... going," she said.

  Indy took several quick steps, and the water level dropped to his ankles. Then he stepped onto a dry rock surface and felt something else beneath his feet: Salandra's slacks and blouse. "You must have jumped out of those clothes," he said, and laughed.

  "It's not funny. Will you take this one off my back? Please?"

  He reached out, touched her slick, wet hair, then found the leech. Carefully, he pulled it off, then tossed it toward the water. He shed his clothes, and went to work removing leeches. It was no time to be modest, and it was so dark it hardly mattered. He could barely see his own hand in front of him. When he was certain he'd found them all, he searched his clothing and squeezed out the water. He could hear Salandra doing the same.

  In his concern about the leeches, he'd forgotten all about the other creature in the water. "That octopus wasn't too happy when we left it."

  "We were lucky to survive. But, unfortunately, there's much worse in here. We are inside Minhocoa."

 

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