The Great White Space

by Basil Copper

  Perhaps we had interrupted the bat creature at a crucial moment of the metamorphosis or possibly the process was a long elaborate one. I was prepared for anything but the ruined mask of Van Damm's dead features which confronted me. Poor Van Damm's lower jaw had been quite torn off in some disgusting manner, exposing the upper teeth and splintered bone of the jaw connections with long driblets of blackened blood hanging down from the ruin. More disgusting still, the skull had been opened in some ingenious manner - perhaps with a cutting tool on the bat creature's trunk — and the brainbox exposed.

  Mercifully, I had no time to linger over this nauseating sight because of Scarsdale's shouted warning and then a whole wave of the bleating jelly-things were upon us and I was too busy pulling grenade pins, hurling, retreating and then surging forward again so that the incidents of the next half hour became a vague, confused jumble in my mind. Mingled with the physical weariness was a hard, burning anger at the obscenities we were confronting, so that in a strange way unknown to myself, I lost all fear.

  We were insulated from the noise, of course, by our helmets and the ear-plugs which was just as well, as the din as the explosions rolled reverberating down miles of corridor must have been tremendous. The creatures, for all their agility and hopping-motion got in each other's way because of their vast size so that we seemed to create a giant slaughter in that corner of the cavern.

  But curiously we never found a single corpse of the jelly- beings; the bat-like creature was different and that cadaver had soon assumed a blue putrescence and gradually shrivelled away. We found only patches of slime upon the ground after each fresh encounter with the hopping monstrosities; they seemed to help one another with their little hands and tendrils and more than once, as the battle raged over the central area which led to the throbbing vacancy of the Great White Space, we saw those not wounded assisting others seriously disabled back into the pulsating brilliance, where they disappeared from our sight.

  At last, when we had only a few grenades left, they drew off and an awful silence descended. Scarsdale and I found ourselves dirty, smoke-grimed, perspiring and utterly weary in a slime-crusted arena marked only by the long tracks where we had dragged the trolley around behind us. Eyes narrowed to slits beneath the dark goggles we gazed achingly towards the burning whiteness which led to outer space; nothing moved in that vile phosphorescence and the only movements were our own; the only sound the faint scrape of our own footfall.

  We retreated slowly, withdrawing two or three hundred yards down the corridor, into a mercifully more shadowed area where we crouched behind the trolley, and, on Scarsdale assuming the office of sentry, debated our position. There was little, or nothing we could now do; three of our companions had been killed - though as yet our tired minds could not comprehend the enormity of this loss. Our primary duty was now to ourselves and to the world. There was no further choice; Scarsdale, in his own mind, I am certain, had contemplated penetrating even the vastness of The Great White Space and had our way not been initially barred by the creatures he would have pushed on — with or without the rest of .us. That course was denied us and all that remained was to extricate ourselves without incurring any further danger, make our way back to civilisation and warn the world of what we had witnessed.

  'We must gather our strength,' said Scarsdale. 'I will take the first watch while you get some rest.'

  He was still the leader but even as I denied being tired the truth was that I was exhausted mentally and physically. Though his robust frame and phlegmatic exterior made it difficult to believe, I felt also that Scarsdale himself was very near to breaking point. Neither of us was in a fit state to walk more than a few hundred yards let alone be in a posture to beat off a further attack.

  We had to have rest and the safest and most obvious course, in the comparatively secure part of the tunnel to which we had retreated was for each to sleep for an hour. Then we would be able to carry on in a relatively refreshed condition. Scarsdale had no sooner pressed his point than I felt a great heaviness on my eyelids. I laid my head upon my hands and slept.

  Nineteen

  1

  When I awoke I had at first difficulty in remembering where I was. It seemed dark and almost impossible to see. My throat too was dry and dusty and I was conscious of an aching in all my limbs. I had not eaten for some time and was beginning to feel the faint stirrings of hunger. I had fallen sideways, I found, and was now lying with my head against the side wall of the tunnel. As soon as I was fully awake I at once became aware of the horror of the situation.

  I struggled immediately into a sitting position, the breath rasping in my throat. I had somewhat foolishly left my goggles in situ and I now found, when I had removed them, that there were deep grooves cut into my forehead and the back of my neck. But of course I could see quite clearly in the faint light and my eyes first fell upon the trolley with its twisted axle, which had nevertheless served us so well.

  I pulled myself slowly upright by its metal framework, shocked to discover how exhausted I was. There was a trembling in all my limbs and a momentary dizziness in front of my eyes, which I put down to the reaction to the events of the past few hours. I supported myself by one hand against the tunnel wall and as my vision cleared I became aware of the extreme quietness in this portion of the tunnel. At the same time I saw Scarsdale's revolver lying on the ground at the spot where I had last seen him.

  The shock was as vivid as a douche of cold water in my face and I was suddenly awake, my raw nerves fretting afresh, a nameless fear tugging at the corners of my mind. I had imagined that Scarsdale had been sitting on the other side of the trolley, his back to it and facing down the tunnel towards the source of light and from which any danger must come. At first I was almost too concerned and worried to take the few steps necessary to confirm or dispel my fears.

  It took a considerable effort of will to move. I had my revolver out now and holding it in front of me and with my other hand hooked over the rail of the trolley I edged round. I expected some horrific sight and relief flooded over me when I became aware that the space behind the trolley was filled with nothing more tangible than shadow. Professor Scarsdale was not there. But this fact, coupled with the unusual circumstance of the revolver lying on the ground, had assumed its true significance by this time. The realisation that all could not be well stung like acid and seemed to sear my nerves making me at once both wide awake and half-frantic with worry.

  I was immediately drenched with varying emotions and ran back up the tunnel towards the strengthening light, calling for the Professor. Nothing answered except the hideous echoes of my own voice which seemed to reverberate along aching miles of tunnel towards the infinitely remote entrance to his abode of despair beneath the Black Mountains. My fear of the slug-creatures was momentarily submerged in my greater terror at being left entirely alone in this abomination.

  I dare not dwell on the suppositions which this released, lest my sanity might totter and I ran up and down the passage for several minutes, quite demented. Then, coming to myself and pressing my trembling hands together I forced my shrieking nerves into calmness. I could only assume that some harm had befallen Scarsdale or he would have replied to my shouts; or, he might perhaps have decided to explore the farther regions of the Great White Space on his own, beyond earshot. Or, thirdly, he was already past all human aid. By this slow and laboured reasoning did I seek to calm my nerves. There was a fourth possibility; that he had gone back along the tunnel in the opposite direction but this I immediately discounted. It was against all our reasoning — unless something alien or unusual had appeared in that direction.

  I put that from me. There remained the unmistakable, indeed inescapable, fact that I had to go back towards the Great White Space. Alive or dead Scarsdale had to be found. And there was only me left to either rescue Scarsdale from the same abominable fate which had overtaken our companions or, tragic thought, to vindicate his memory. When I had come to this conclusion I became calmer, stopped m
y pacing about and checked my revolver and ammunition; I seized a canvas bag and putting the remaining five grenades in it set off back up the tunnel.

  2

  I had walked only a few hundred yards when I became aware of a low, mutterd mumbling up ahead. The light was growing in intensity now or my courage might perhaps have failed me, so 1 merely gripped the bag more firmly and went on. I could not at first place the direction from which the sound was coming. At one moment it resembled the faint buzz of insects, such as one might hear on a hot summer day in happier circumstances, when hovering on the edge of sleep.

  But the idea of insects in the connotation of these repellent underground caverns was abhorrent in the extreme and my resolution took a hard knock at the outset. The faint mumble seemed to recede and advance like waves of the sea as I went down the corridor of ever-strengthening light and I donned my goggles in order that they should be ready when the radiance became too strong for my naked eyes. The insidious murmur now resembled a human being whispering some obscene thought in one of the caves almost beyond earshot and that was even more unpleasant, if anything.

  But conversely, I felt my courage reviving. Might not Scarsdale have suffered some accident and even now, on hands and knees, be trying to make his way back to me, muttering some plea for help? This thought made me suck in my breath with an audible sound and life seemed to flow into my limbs; I went on down the corridor at a jog-trot.

  The light grew stronger, washing in like surf over the black walls of the caves. There was no sign of Scarsdale; nothing moved in the whole of the corridor before me but the mumbling buzz grew in my ears, not at all overborne by the throbbing vibrations of the great pulse which were now again growing in intensity. I made sure I had my ear-plugs handy and switched off the lamp in my helmet. 1 was not sure how long these batteries lasted and would need the light for the return.

  I dared not think too closely of my returning without Scarsdale; that was a horror which did not bear contemplation in the circumstances in which 1 now found myself placed. My breath whistled uneasily in my throat as I hurried uphill, the grenades making an unpleasant clicking noise as they bounced together in the canvas holder in my left hand.

  My right hand held the revolver poised but despite the rigid grip of my fingers round the butt and trigger guard I could not stop the trembling in my fingers. Strange convention that impelled me still to cling to such a traditional weapon as a firearm. We had all seen how ineffective they had proved in our abortive battles with the slug-creatures, yet training was so ingrained that one clung to habit even where it had been proved useless. Thus I proved to myself that not only scientists cling uselessly to empiricism. Though of course scientists would then change their methods, whereas I was still clinging literally and pointlessly to mine.

  So I reasoned jerkily as I pounded onwards into the strengthening light, prepared for anything as 1 neared the slight curve of the corridor which cut me off from sight of the approaches to the Great White Space, while all the while the mumbled mutter of the hidden whisperers grew with the thudding pulse in my ears.

  As I rounded the slight curve the pulsations grew markedly stronger and the intensity of the light seemed to drastically undergo a change. The paleness turned from an opaque milkiness to the sharp brilliance of sunshine and then as I came suddenly out into the featureless arena where the walls of the caves fell away altogether the light seemed to dazzle my eyeballs and a pale thunderclap sounded in my ears. I clamped the goggles down over my eyes at once and as I staggered, smitten with the tremendous strength of the shafts of luminescence, the whispering hissed at my elbow as though the unknown mumblers were only a foot or so from where I stood.

  I put in the ear-plugs as the throbbing grew to intolerable proportions. I was now bathed in liquid phosphorescence so bright that even my arms seemed to be lapped with living fire and so incandescent that the extremities of my limbs had disappeared. I narrowed my eyes to slits as I ran on and reached for the first grenade. It was like peering into a seething cauldron; the Great White Space was alive with throbbing pulsations of living light and through this blanched hole which led into the universe hopped and lurched not only the flopping slug-things we had earlier encountered but the living counterparts of the creatures we had seen in the jars.

  They were far off and appeared not to have seen me as they flowed in a ghastly stream in and out of the luminescent circle on their obscure errands. But what took my eye and filled me with unutterable relief was the sight of the durable figure of Scarsdale. He stood to one side, almost in the spot where we had the last battle with the things in the side-galleries. His beard glowed with living fire as he waved and gestured to me excitedly.

  'Coming, Scarsdale,' I said, relief surging through me. My words echoed and boomed through the galleries and disturbed the hopping things that crowded in and out of that horrifying door into space. They hesitated, broke ranks and once again that vile bleating and lowing noise echoed under the arch of the caverns. I took the pin out of a grenade and held it tightly. I altered course and ran towards Scarsdale. He hobbled up to meet me and I was worried that he might be injured but he continued to wave reassuringly.

  There was now about a hundred yards separating us but the slug-creatures, half seen from the corner of my eye were rapidly closing halfway between the two of us.

  'Hurry, Professor,' I called. 'We shall be cut off.'

  The burly form of Scarsdale continued to wave.

  'There is no danger, Plowright,' he called back. 'I have made the most fantastic discoveries.'

  As I got closer to him I saw a surge of the winged insect-like creatures appear from the rock galleries behind him. Once again came the leathery beat of the horny wing-cases which had so haunted my dreams.

  'Behind you,' I called, anxiety blurring the edges of my voice. I turned on my heel abruptly and hurled my grenade into the mass of hopping things which were crowding through the Great White Space to separate the two of us. The bleating cries changed to those of alarm as the grenade rolled onwards. The explosion made a sharp bang which slapped at the side of the cavern, red flame bloomed, darkening the brilliance of white light and angry pieces of metal buzzed vindictively about. There were again the moans of distress and the stench of scorched tissue but more and more of the flabby creatures, their bundled tentacles groping and writhing, were coming on. I threw three grenades rapidly with the strength of desperation and before the first explosion slapped back from the cave walls I was halfway across the distance which separated me from Scarsdale.

  By now several of the things were almost level with the pair of us and still coming on, slopping across the cave floor with incredible speed. I called again to the Professor to make haste but he seemed to be slowing now, as though he were exhausted.

  The horrible stench, which had been ever present, was now intensified and again I narrowed my eyes to slits as the pulsations of white light appeared to ululate to the rhythmic beat of those devilish vibrations. I glimpsed the forms of the slug-things all about me now, their monadelphous outlines fibrillating and undulating in the pitiless glare from outer space. Behind them I caught sight of one or two of the winged beasts, who seemed to be balefully directing the activities of the others.

  But I was now almost up to Scarsdale and there was still a wide patch of cave floor which would give us a means of escape back to the blessed dimness of the caverns, if only we had the few more seconds necessary. I made a last despairing spurt and Scarsdale, glancing up, gave me a smile of encouragement and welcome. Uselessly I had my revolver in my left hand and took the opportunity to get off two or three shots into the air. I did not even bother to aim at the slug- things as I knew the effect of the bullets on them would be less than useless.

  But the creatures paused in their bleating progress just long enough for me to reach him. He tottered as I caught him by the arm and swung him to face me.

  'Thank God, I was in time. Professor,' I panted. 'We have only a few seconds.'

 
He shook his head.

  'You don't understand, Plowright,' he said. 'We are on the verge of the most incredible discoveries.'

  The slug-creatures started to slop forward again as he spoke. I felt irritation lancing through my brain but I forced myself to keep calm. This was no time for the scientific mind to become predominant.

  'We are in mortal danger, Professor,' I shouted, not noticing that he was without his ear-plugs. 'Why did you not wake me?'

  I pulled him back behind me, towards the welcoming shade of the inner passages. He did not resist; indeed, he seemed almost without will, as though his latest investigations had temporarily exhausted him.

  The glare from the Great White Space made everything look blanched and strange but the Professor's attitude alarmed me; there was something about his head which was not quite right. He looked ill and somehow crumpled. Perhaps he had been attacked by the creatures and was still suffering from injuries. He kept his head turned away from me as if his neck hurt him. I saw stickiness on his clothing then. My vision blurred and I slipped on the unspeakable foulness of that unholy floor.

  I pulled Scarsdale again and he broke into a shambling run beside me.

  'Quickly, Professor,' I shouted, 'or we shall be too late.'

  He nodded then as if he understood. But just at that moment some of the slug-creatures, who were getting dangerously close, came up towards us. They mewed with that strange, distressing call and the whole air seemed to be filled with that unearthly vibrancy.

  Scarsdale had slowed his pace again as if he were waiting for them.