THAT DARN SQUID GOD

by Nick Pollotta

  "Now that's odd," the professor commented with a frown. "How could I miss at this range?"

  With a gritty rumble, the boulder split apart at shoulder height, the upper chunk sliding off to tumble to the ground with a heavy thud. The interior of the boulder was mirror bright, as if polished by a glazier. The two men stared at the rock for several seconds.

  "Good enough!" Professor Einstein noted happily, checking the blade for nicks or scrapes. But there were none. The blade was perfect.

  "Rather," Lord Carstairs agreed, giving the word two syllables.

  Professor Einstein pulled out the sword once more and held the blade to the sun to read the symbols etched into the blood-gutter that extended down the middle.

  "By Gadfrey, this is the sword of Alexander!" he cried out in delight. "The real sword! The one I could never find!"

  Carstairs gave a long whistle of astonishment. "So it is, Professor," the lord agreed, very impressed. "I thought it looked familiar! I have a copy in my collection that I bought from the Spanish War Museum a few months ago. Wretched thing, but it's deuced similar to this."

  Turning his face away, the professor hid a smile. So that's where the copy ended up! The world of professional archeology is very small indeed.

  "Well, we can't get much better than this," Professor Einstein stated, sheathing the famous blade. "Let's be off and try to find those horses, eh?"

  "Righto, sir!"

  Shifting the packs on their backs more comfortably, the beweaponed explorers trekked into the desert after the runaway mounts.

  ***

  As the two humans disappeared behind a sand dune, the blue sky shimmered and then ripped apart to reveal the starry blackness of deep space.

  "There you are!" a loud voice rumbled and, from out of nowhere, a giant mailed hand descended and reached for the tiny sledgehammer. The weapon magically swelled to full size in the great fist. With a crash of thunder, both were gone from the realm of Mortals.

  ***

  Standing on top of a cloud, a powerfully built, red-haired man clad in leather armor and wearing a winged helmet fondly caressed the hammer. "There, there, pookums," he cooed softly. "You're back with daddykins now."

  Then, turning to face the universe, the redhead gestured with the hammer, making the mighty pillars of the heavens shake. "And who dared to disturb the rest of Mjöllnir?" Thor boomed furiously.

  There was no answer to the challenge, except for a faint distant chuckling. It could have been a singing bird, or a splashing waterfall.

  "Loki, it must be you!" Thor declared, his noble face nigh purple with fury. "Prepare for battle!"

  Pausing in the act of marking a deck of poker cards, the thin god loosened a poisoned dagger in his boot. "No, wait! I didn't do it this time!" Loki cried in simulated innocence.

  "Liar!" Thor boomed, and the storm god charged at his ancient foe, the mighty hammer whirling above his helmet.

  Ducking out of the way, Loki countered with some itching powder and a Morningstar mace to the groin. He missed, and soon the heavens rumbled with the clash of steel and the crash of thunder, the divine battle punctuated with the occasional yelp of pain.

  ***

  Hunched against the stinging breeze, Lord Carstairs paused and waited for the panting Professor Einstein to catch up.

  Behind the men stretched a trail of boot prints already partially filled from the shifting sand. Unfortunately, the horses had bolted back towards the forest, and there were no spells of Summoning in the magic book, nor were there any for making beasts of burden. With no other recourse, the men had started walking into the burning desert.

  Cresting a low dune, Einstein and Carstairs looked down upon an ancient pavilion of crumbling stones hidden inside a ring of obelisks. It was almost an exact duplicate of Stonehenge, only in much better condition.

  "How odd," Lord Carstairs remarked. "Just a moment ago, I could have sworn this valley was empty."

  "Me too," Professor Einstein agreed, placing a hand on the grip of his sword. "Stay sharp, lad."

  As they started towards the structure, there was a hiss. From out of the stone pillars stepped a giant red scorpion. The armored body of the monster stretched more than ten yards long, the deadly barbed tail was arched high as if ready to strike, and the pair of lethal pincers clacked as they mauled the empty air.

  "Greetings, foolish mortals!" the scorpion hissed over the howling desert wind. "Prepare to die!"

  Having heard something similar only yesterday, Lord Carstairs flicked his wrist to release the safety on his weapon and tightened his grip on the handle. The eight barrels of the Vulcan mini-gun started to rotate, and a split-second later a strident stream of flame and steel vomited forth. The armor-piercing shells punched a line of holes through the crimson chitin of the giant scorpion, the explosive charges detonating inside like a string of firecrackers. The monster shook as it was torn apart from within. Bits of shell and blood flew in great arcs into the sky.

  After a good, long burst, Carstairs released the handle. Silence returned so fast that his ears rang. All around the explorers, a gentle patter of scorpion meat fell to the sand in wet smacks. Amid the smoky destruction of the alien Stonehenge, there stood several pairs of crimson legs, which the dry wind finally pushed over, so that they fell upon the ground with the clatter of old bones.

  "Good shooting, lad," the professor complimented, daintily removing a bit of shell from his tunic.

  "I hate scorpions," Carstairs stated, as the rotating barrels of the ungainly Vulcan slowed to a halt. "The nasty little buggers always crawl into your boots at night."

  "First a sphinx, and now a giant scorpion," Professor Einstein said, adjusting his bronze crown. "I have a bad feeling, lad. I think that the closer we get to the black mountain, the more things like this we shall encounter."

  Frowning in agreement, Lord Carstairs started walking forward once more, keeping clear of the dripping corpse of the colossal arachnid. Just for a moment, he hesitated. We're low on supplies now, and scorpion meat smells exactly like lobster … No. It talked. There are limits.

  Hours slowly passed, and their walking soon became trudging. But the explorers had trekked through most of the major deserts of the world. The techniques of marching through shifting sand soon returned, so their speed increased.

  However, the desert seemed to stretch endlessly before them. The black mountain never came any closer. The blazing sun was oppressively hot and, while his odd metal hat gave Lord Carstairs some measure of protection, Professor Einstein only had his crown. Soon the professor was forced to tie a handkerchief over his gray hair for some much-needed shade.

  As the long day progressed, the sun reached its zenith in the azure sky, and the heat became unbearable. Every breath was labored. Forcing themselves to take only sips from their tin canteens to stretch the flavored water, the astonished men discovered that both of the water containers unexpectedly became empty at the same moment.

  "But there was plenty of water remaining," Lord Carstairs said, looking unsuccessfully for holes in the canteen.

  Drawing his sword, Professor Einstein glanced about uneasily. "I have the feeling, lad, that we are in for another attack. Since brute force has already been tried, be prepared for subtlety."

  As the explorers crested the next sand dune, they were met by a deliciously cool breeze. They saw two large water fountains surrounded by a soft carpet of emerald green moss. Made of multiple tiers of marble, the identical splashing fountains were filled with crystal clear water.

  Approaching with extreme caution, Einstein and Carstairs stepped onto the moss and abruptly stopped as a small cloud promptly precipitated in the form of a grinning skeleton clothed in long flowing black robes.

  With a flick of his wrist, Lord Carstairs got the Vulcan ready, but Professor Einstein raised a hand to restrain his young friend.

  "Let him talk first, lad," the professor said out of the corner of his mouth. "We need information. Besides, you might damage the fou
ntains, and we need that water."

  Sighting his target, Lord Carstairs simply nodded in response, and eased his grip on the trigger mechanism.

  With the wind whipping his loose clothing about, the skeleton bowed at the waist, the gesture causing him to make a comical rattling noise. "Greetings, weary travelers!" it said. "You have come to the long-sought Fountain of Immortality. Congratulations on your success!"

  "But there are two fountains," Einstein noted pragmatically.

  "Ah! The other is the Fountain of Instant Death," the skeleton replied, thrusting out its jaw in lieu of a smile. "Nobody really goes out of their way to find that. Not much call for it, you know."

  "How interesting," Lord Carstairs mused thoughtfully. He could see definite military possibilities in both. "So, which is which, sir?"

  With a flourish, the skeleton raised a bony finger into the air. "Now that's the question, isn't it? You must decide, and drink! Eternal life, or sudden death!"

  "Neither then, thanks," Carstairs said.

  "Goodbye," the professor added.

  Upon turning to leave, the men found themselves facing the fountains. Spinning about, the explorers incredibly found themselves again staring at the fountains. Conferring in private, Einstein and Carstairs tried looking in different directions at the same time…and still found themselves facing the two fountains.

  "Well, I shall be jiggered," the professor cursed in frustration.

  Merrily splashing, the cool waters gurgled down the multiple tiers of the marble structures into the deep basin.

  "No rush," the skeleton chuckled evilly, crossing its bony arms. "I can wait forever !"

  Frowning in annoyance, the explorers once more spoke in private for several minutes, and even drew a couple of sketches in the sand, before coming to a decision.

  Taking the professor's canteen, Lord Carstairs strode to the first fountain and filled the canteen halfway. Then he walked over to the other fountain and filled his own canteen halfway.

  Cackling in delight, the skeleton danced about on the sand. "So one of you shall live, and one will die! Could it be that… Hey! Stop that!"

  Unperturbed, Lord Carstairs poured the contents of one canteen into the other. He then capped the full canteen, shook it, twisted off the cap and took a healthy slug of the mixture. When nothing happened, the lord then handed it to the professor, who gratefully swallowed several gulps. Vastly refreshed, and no longer the least bit tired, the explorers turned to leave, their steps firm and strong once more.

  "So long," Lord Carstairs called in farewell.

  "Our thanks, sir!" Professor Einstein added, politely. "Much appreciated!"

  "That's not fair!" the skeleton screamed furiously, stamping its bony feet on the lush moss. "You have to choose!"

  "We did," Einstein retorted, glancing backward. "Really now, if you are going to give people puzzles to solve, then you must pay closer attention to how you word the rules."

  Continuing out of the valley, the explorers left the skeleton, now cursing and kicking at the ground, behind them.

  ***

  Several hours later, the sun began to set, just as Professor Einstein and Lord Carstairs reached the barren foothills of the black mountain. The sand gave way to hard stone, and their pace increased dramatically, until the men reached a cliff overlooking an enormous chasm, the bottom of which they saw to be lost in rolling banks of cool mist. Faintly, from below, the roar of a wild, whitewater river reached their ears.

  "This is much too far to jump, Lord Carstairs said, licking a finger to test the wind blowing through the abyss. "We'll have to find another way across."

  "Over there, lad," Professor Einstein said, starting to the left.

  Just a short distance away was a wide stone bridge built across the yawning chasm. The center of the span was masked in fog, and the explorers had their weapons at the ready as they approached. Sure enough, the moment they stepped foot on the stones, the fog lifted to reveal a knight dressed in a suit of red armor.

  The style of the armor was a wild mixture of a dozen cultures, but every aspect was designed for offense. And held by this dire guardian was a long sword over three yards in length, the point cutting into the granite blocks forming the bridge. The blade was made of a shiny black material, the edges feathered with ripples so that it glistened like a thousand razors in the light of the setting sun.

  "Sir, I do not think this gentleman will be amenable to visitors," Lord Carstairs noted, once more flipping off the safety of the Vulcan mini-gun.

  Removing the handkerchief from under his bronze crown, Professor Einstein returned his sword to its scabbard. "Let's find out first," he suggested, "before doing anything rash. "'Softly, softly, catchee monkey', as Kipling would say, eh, lad?"

  "This is no primitive chimp, sir," the lord growled dangerously.

  Standing as motionless as a statue of a Royal Beefeater on sentry duty at Buckingham palace, the red knight seemed oblivious to the cautious approach of the two men. That is, until Einstein and Carstairs came within a few yards, at which juncture the knight smoothly lifted his weapon into an attack stance.

  "Hold! None may cross without the password," the knight stated firmly, his voice booming in a most impressive manner.

  For a while, the only sounds were the words echoing again and again into the depths of the rocky chasm below.

  "Afraid we don't know the password," Professor Einstein answered politely.

  "Really?" the knight said, lowering the sword. "Then go and battle the Moon Scorpion, if you dare, and he shall whisper the password as he dies."

  "Sorry, we seem to have missed him," Lord Carstairs lied smoothly. In truth, he had done everything but miss him.

  In response, the knight stiffened in his armor. "Then while I live, you shall not cross."

  "Fair enough," Carstairs said in a monotone, bracing himself against the weapons recoil and clicking off the safety again.

  As if sensing danger, an exact duplicate of the knight stepped out from behind the first. Then another, and another. In perfect synchronization, the four guardians raised their dire swords.

  "Wait!" Professor Einstein cried, moving between the five warriors. "A question first, please, Sir Knight, ah, Knights."

  The swords of the four red knights neither dipped nor wavered. "We are programmed to respond to questions," they replied in perfect harmony.

  Programmed. What does that mean? "Is there no other way we can get across?" the professor inquired hopefully. "Pay a toll, or pass some test of wits?"

  That seemed to give the knights pause. "Actually, there is."

  "Excellent!" Einstein beamed in delight. "What is it, pray tell?"

  "Immortals, gods and sorcerers may come and go as they wish," the knights answered rigidly. "So we have been commanded, and so it shall ever be."

  Grinning in triumph, Lord Carstairs flipped the safety on. "Bingo! We have drunk from the Fountain of Immortality."

  "A noble try," the four responded, looking at the Englishman. "But not half good enough."

  "We have a lovely book of magic, and a magic sword," Professor Einstein offered hopefully. "A legendary sword, actually. Powerful stuff, me laddies."

  "Bah, the merest trifles!" the guardians intoned. "Listen and learn, mortal travelers. Untold ages ago, a conclave of magical beings forged us from the living metal core of this planet. The spell took years to create and months to cast. During it, the Time/Space continuum shuddered, and the stars in the heavens changed their courses for all eternity."

  Their voices raised in timbre and volume. "We are the ultimate sentry, invested with the combined power of a thousand masters of destruction: beings whose merest glance would wither you like grass in the sun." The knights repeated the Ritual of the Swords. "You shall not cross without the password!"

  With an expression of relief, Professor Einstein walked right to the knights and doffed his crown. "Thanks ever so, but we don't need it. Because I am a god, you see. The name is Einstein. Pro
fessor Felix Einstein."

  "You...are unfamiliar to us," the four said hesitantly. "Identify, please."

  "Check the pantheon of the Beeta-Bora tribe of the island Tookawee," the professor said glibly. "I was the first European to contact them. When they saw my lantern and matches, I was proclaimed a god." Einstein turned to Lord Carstairs and added, "As the natives would have eaten me otherwise, I accepted the position."

  "Accessing files," the four knights murmured and a faint whirring noise could be heard. "Micronesia, Polynesian file, Beeta-Bora, main pantheon, sub-pantheon." The crimson guardians gave choking noises. "Professor Einstein, the white god of fire and fertility."

  "Fertility?" Lord Carstairs repeated, amused.

  Feigning innocence, Einstein blushed and said nothing.

  Bowing respectfully, the titans separated to either side of the bridge. "Pass, milord," they intoned together.

  Dashing across, Einstein paused to indicate Carstairs. "And what about my acolyte here?"

  "Acolyte?" they echoed in shock. "He is your High Priest?"

  Taking the cue, Lord Carstairs did a little dance and waved his hands about in the air.

  "All hail the great and powerful Einstein!" the lord sang. "Bringer of fire and flame! Roaster of meat! Giver of light! Pleaser of women!"

  Slumping slightly, the red knights gave a four-part metallic sigh. "Pass," they muttered sullenly.

  Wasting no time in further niceties, the lord held onto his steel hat and scampered across the bridge, not slowing until reaching solid ground on the other side of the chasm.

  "Fast thinking there, lad," the professor panted. "Where did you learn to lie like that? Parliament?"

  "Of course. But I was also a member of the Drama Club at Oxford," Lord Carstairs added proudly. "I even played Puck in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream.'"