Strange Temple

by John Lilley

  Keep looking at the horizon, he told himself.

  His fellow travellers seemed unaffected and were scanning the surrounding water for signs of life. This close to shore the main activity in the water involved large flocks of jellyfish (Cyanea Lamarcki), one creature which had benefitted from the warmer seas. Further out the ferry was briefly passed by a school of porpoise.

  ‘What are you all so keen to see?’ asked Trevor.

  ‘Last year we saw some Fins (Balaenoptera Physalus),’ said the young boy.

  ‘Fin, as in the whale?’ enquired Trevor.

  ‘Yep, that’s right. There were six of them,’ said the father.

  ‘Really, I didn’t think they came this far north. I’ve been crossing to Cleveland for over 20 years now, and I’ve never seen any,’ said Trevor.

  ‘It was this same week last year; August. They’re quite seasonal, perhaps you usually come across at a different time of year?’ said the father.

  ‘You know, you might be right there. I do usually make this journey in early spring. Perhaps the water is a bit warmer in the summer?’ said Trevor.

  Looking over the side at the waves, made Trevor feel decidedly queasy. He retreated to the rear of the ferry and found the seat he had reserved earlier, one facing sternwards in the centre of the ship. In the gathering evening gloom, Trevor watched the lights come on back at the rapidly receding ferry terminal. Numerous noisy sea birds were flying overhead on their way to evening roosting places. He continued to watch the horizon, and as his nausea abated, he began to think about Cleveland and Julie.

  No doubt she would have prepared every last detail of his visit down to the half-hour and expected her to present him with an itinerary sheet upon arrival. For the past few years, Trevor had noticed that there were moments when he felt a tinge of loneliness, usually when he was back in his dorm in the evenings or when he woke up in the mornings. In the last six months these “moments” had become more frequent, perhaps as a result of his few remaining single cycling friends pairing off, but anyway he found himself thinking what life would be like if Julie were with him more often. When they were younger, they had shared a dorm for a few months, but it had ended in tears, mostly Trevor’s; Julie had been just too controlling and obsessively organised for him. He did love Julie very much, but could he compromise his life enough to make a go of it again? Also, where would they live and what would they do? For example, if Julie came to live in his dorm, would she find work nearby? Britannia City was where most of the botanic research institutes were, and it would be just within the limits of an acceptable commute time, but would it be what she wanted? Finding someone else would be an even bigger leap in the dark. None of the ladies at the various cycling clubs he attended took his fancy, and most of them were in relationships anyway. He had decided to make a better evaluation while he was in Cleveland with Julie and if it went well, he would try to push the conversation in that direction if possible.

  Thirty minutes later back on the foredeck looking forward into the horizon, he could just about see the lights at the island’s ferry terminal. He remembered the same view from his last visit and reckoned that they would be at Gillamoor within the next hour. His queasiness had now subsided, and the sea was definitely calmer, perhaps due to the ship coming into the shelter of Cleveland Island? He decided to return to the main saloon and pick up his bags ready to depart. The sky up ahead was already dark with no stars or the moon visible through the thick clouds, but there was just enough sundown glow to make out the even darker shape of the island rising to several hundred metres above the lights of Gillamoor. He picked up his bags from the saloon and made his way back down onto the foredeck. There were no service vehicles on board that evening, so he selected a spot just a few metres behind the bow loading ramp with a good view ahead. The family he had been talking to on the train joined him a few minutes later.

  ‘See anything,’ he asked.

  ‘Fairly quiet, just those porpoises,’ said the father.

  The two teenagers looked tired and had both reverted to looking intensely at their links.

  Ten minutes later the ship grounded on the harbour approach and the loading ramp went down. As everyone trooped off, Trevor shielded his eyes from the glare of the harbour lights to see if he could pick out Julie. He had walked around 10 meters when he was accosted from behind.

  ‘Boo,’ said Julie as he spun around. She went straight for him with a tight embrace pinning his bag-carrying arms down his sides and immediately into a long and very affectionate kiss. She had taken him by surprise, but he was not going to complain. He dropped his bags and lifted his arms to embrace her waist.

  She finally broke off the kiss; ‘I’ve really missed you this time sweetie, it seems like ages since I saw you.’

  ‘Yes, it’s been a long six months for me too,’ he said, looking into her eyes and brushing the hair from her face. Things might be going his way he thought, but he didn’t raise his hopes too much, he knew Julie could change in an instance.

  ‘I’ve got us one of the larger rooms in the Rangers Lodge for tonight,’ she said, giving him another quick kiss.

  ‘Sounds good, shall we make a move?’ he said, not wanting to be the one who broke their embrace.

  They sauntered, arm in arm up the quay and on to the Rangers Lodge which was only 300 metres away. Julie kept looking up at him, smiling and giggling.

  Yes, this is going very well, he thought.

  The dawn chorus woke Trevor, and although he felt like his body was made from lead, he forced himself out of bed and slipped on a dressing gown. The room had one of the best views over the tiny harbour, and as he looked out, he could see the ferry manoeuvring out of the bay and turning around ready to set off back to the mainland.

  ‘Trevor, is that you?’ Julie called from the breakfast room.

  ‘Yes, I’m coming,’ said Trevor as he turned and headed out of the bedroom.

  Julie had cooked their breakfast, something which was now an unusual activity for most people since cooking was done in Canteen kitchens by permanent kitchen staff and students. It always felt strange for Trevor, but he tried not to let it show and in any case Julie was quite good at cooking.

  ‘So, any more word from Ivan,’ asked Trevor.

  ‘Yes, he usually emails me a couple of times a week. He’s still in Britannia City and seems to be loving every minute of it. To the industrial archaeologists, he’s like a walking gold mine. They’re planning a trip back to his old home in the desert, but he’s not that keen to go back, he’s got used to life in Britain,’ said Julie.

  ‘Perhaps we could go and see him?’ suggested Trevor.

  ‘Yes, I was going to suggest something like that. Perhaps I could come and stay with you for a while, I still have a lot of leave outstanding after that Russian trip,’ said Julie, much to the delight of Trevor.

  After breakfast, Julie took Trevor to the stores where they selected all the gear he would need for his expedition. An itemised list was not necessary; he’d done this trip several times already. He was half expecting Julie to have a list, but she didn’t. Nor did she have an itinerary for him - result!

  Perhaps she’d just forgotten with all the recent excitement of the Russian trip, he thought but managed not to comment. They both knew he was planning five days of backwoods camping, so he saw no need to remind her and maybe trigger some of her obsession with organising. As he was leaving, they had another kiss and cuddle as they stood on the doorstep of the Lodge.

  ‘You know that you can always come back to the Lodge at night if you are feeling lonely,’ said Julie as she kissed him again.

  ‘I might take you up on that, see you soon,’ Trevor said before kissing her one last time and releasing himself from her embrace. He headed away from the lodge, turning around after 100 metres to see that Julie was still on the doorstep watching him. They both smiled and waved, and then Trevor entered the forest and was gone.

  Julie smiled to herself as she turned slowly back
to the Lodge. She hand-washed the breakfast pots in the canteen’s sink and fastidiously placed all the items back in their correct positions within the cupboards

  Well, he didn’t say no to my visit suggestion, she thought.

  Making herself a coffee she went back into the bedroom and sat in the chair near the window. Feeling in her trouser pocket, she pulled out two pieces of paper: one was a kit list and the other an itinerary. She could not help checking through them but felt pleased with herself for not bringing them out when Trevor was there.

  Perhaps the counselling sessions were paying off? she thought.

  41 ORCAS

  The pod of Killer Whales (Orcinus Orca) had been on the move for over two weeks. Their journey had begun off the west coast of Greenland and had now taken them to the east coast of Scotland. There had been much confusion at the start of the journey because the lead male had disappeared for two days. Everyone had been searching high and low, but then he turned up as if nothing had happened. He seemed fine and if anything he looked like he’d put on a bit of weight. They’d also made what appeared to be a ridiculous detour into the treacherous waters off the west coast of Scotland. Few killer whales ventured that way, mainly because the humpbacked were there in great numbers and of course the dreadful noises coming from the many man-vessels and other man-devices in that area. They couldn’t understand how the humpbacked could stand going so close to where the men kept their vessels, but the lead male had been insistent and had steered them to within a few metres of one of the large man-vessels. Some reckoned that he’d got too close himself because there was now what appeared to be a small translucent lump on his back just beneath his dorsal fin. However, it didn’t seem to bother him and didn’t change in size or colour over the next couple of days, which was always a good sign. Since their encounter with the man-vessel, the lead male changed course dramatically. He seemed to be driven to make the maximum distance each day. The other whales were curious about his intentions, but they were all being well fed in the heavily stocked waters of the North Sea, so the big male was doing something right. The pace he set was hard, and the smallest youngsters were struggling to keep up. Although it was a new territory for this Pod, everyone agreed that the lead male was doing his job well. The sea had echoed to their high-pitched conversations.

  Five days later they entered the calmer waters at the northern end of the Yorkshire Sea. In the distance, they could see the headlands of the British mainland with the Cleveland and North Wold Islands on the left of the horizon. These warmer shallow seas were not the Pod’s usual choice of hunting ground since they seldom yielded the same abundant food supply as the colder waters, but then they heard them: seals. So this is what the old boy had been after. How did he know they would be here in such numbers? The sounds coming to them through the murky waters were growing steadily stronger, definitely Grey Seals.

  They approached the beach in a completely silent hunting formation. The females and juveniles waited 300 metres offshore while the males headed in two groups towards the beach. Their pincer manoeuvre caused absolute chaos amongst the seal colony. Hundreds of the creatures accelerated towards the shore trying to escape from the ever-closing gap between the two leading males. The water foamed with the sheer mass of animals fleeing for their lives. The leading orca males rocketed up the beach with mouths open. They snapped at the writhing mass of seals, and one got lucky; bright red blood spurted from its mouth as it all but bit one of the seals in half. Both whales were now almost completely beached. They turned back towards the sea and pushed themselves along with their powerful fore-fins in the few inches of surf. Their loud squeaks and squelches were designed to scare the seals now trapped between them and the open sea. Faced with the two mountainous black and white killing machines the seals turned and swam. The other males from the attack formation continued to herd the seals in a 20-metre wide column straight into the waiting jaws of the females and youngsters. The sea boiled red.

  Back on the beach the smaller lead whale had reached his swimming depth and accelerating back for the feast. The big male, however, was behaving quite strangely. He’d completely stopped with the water about half way up his sides. The blood from the dead seal was everywhere making it difficult to see what was happening, but from either side of the whale, there were sudden strange turbulences. It was as if something was in a spasm just beneath the surface. Seconds later two seals came out of the surf behind the whale and headed straight up the beach. They seemed to be in no rush, not really what you would expect when so close to the whale. The two seals had not gone 10 metres before there was an intense shudder from the whale and as if awoken from its torpor it headed out to sea without turning back. Whatever the lump had been on its back, it was now gone.

  The two seals continued up the beach and joined the thousands of their terrified fellow creatures. The other seals were still in a noisy state of shock, so the two seals managed to pass through without too many territorial nips. The stench of fish, shit and decaying dead pups grew steadily stronger as they made their way through the noisy colony. A family of opportunistic foxes (Vulpes Vulpes) was using the commotion to carry off an almost dead abandoned pup.

  The two seals were really struggling now they’d reached the rocks above the high water mark. They stopped for a while and looked around to survey their situation. Of particular interest to them were the nearby tree line and coastal vegetation. One seal pointed a flipper towards a large clump of gorse bushes (Ulex Europaeus), the other one nodded. With great effort, they shuffled to the nearest clump of the yellow-flowered bushes and both managed to crawl deep into their hollowed-out centre. Now out of sight of the shore and anything overhead an amazing transformation took place. The seals rolled onto their backs, large bulges appeared near their throats and suddenly split open. Out of each hole came a pair of human hands. Working quickly the hands enlarged the holes until the seals were split open from head to toe as if they’d been unzipped. Arms and heads appeared next, human heads and the two simulants David and Eric pulled themselves out of the seal suits.

  ‘What on earth is that smell?’ asked David.

  ‘Well don’t look at me,’ replied Eric, with a smile. ‘I thought it was you.’

  Still crouching between the bushes, they retrieved some items of equipment from the now deflated seal suits. David turned his “skin” over to reveal the creature that had boarded the patrol boat six days earlier. It had transferred from the lead whale’s back when the “seals” had disembarked.

  ‘Do you think we were seen?’ David asked the creature.

  The creature extended one of its “arms” and David offered his hand so that the creature could make contact with the data point in his palm. The creature’s reply came quickly and silently. ‘All mission parameters have been met’. A wealth of maps and schematic information then followed. Effortlessly David’s knowledge-space absorbed the information while his analytics systems instantly made its own cross-references, correlations and projections. The creature had very limited mission parameters, but it had performed its data-gathering role admirably. David’s other hand closed on the creature, triggering chemical processes inside its small body, causing it to begin to blacken and rot. David threw the remains of the creature into the pit that Eric had dug to bury the sealskins.

  ‘We’ll know in the next few minutes if it’s all been worth it. Two weeks in that stinking whale and then this smell-fest. I hope Chief has done his homework,’ said Eric. ‘What did our little friend say?’

  Both simulants were using voice to minimise electromagnetic radiation that could have been picked up by any detection systems in the vicinity.

  ‘He basically said we’re OK. We’ll stay here until nightfall and then move inland. I didn’t see any static security devices, so it looks like Chief got that bit right.’

  They joined hands to exchange the remainder of the data. Then lay completely still beneath the gorse for a further seven hours until dusk. They’d both shut down most of their
motor systems to conserve energy but allowed their enhanced senses to spread out from their hiding place and continue to take in the noise and pungent aroma of the seals they’d just left. Passively staring up at the clouded sky they watched the endless circling of the gulls (Larus Argentatus) and skuas (Stercorarius Parasiticus). They were still holding hands.

  42 PICNIC

  Gene got up late. His back felt stiff, and his new knee was once again a bit swollen.

  Why did they have so much trouble with the damned thing this time? he thought. The last new one had lasted 50 years with no problems?

  The marmosets were already waiting for him on the veranda as Martha served his breakfast. When he’d finished the cereal and started on his coffee, he picked up the phone and pressed the button marked “Bill”.

  ‘Hi old buddy’ he said as Bill answered. ‘Thanks once again for yesterday.’

  ‘Hey, no problem Gene, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,’ said Bill.

  ‘It’s a shame that - Jake - could not have been there,’ said Gene with a subtle emphasis on the word “Jake”.

  ‘Well I don’t think that - Jake - would have found it very interesting yesterday. No, far too boring for him,’ said Bill. ‘Carlos rang last night and said much the same thing about - Jake. I’ve been thinking that it’s about time we went on a picnic, you remember, like the ones we used to go on with - Jake?’

  ‘Sounds like a great idea,’ said Gene. ‘You mean the ones at the Black River Oasis?’

  ‘The very same,’ confirmed Bill. ‘We’d have to fly there, but don’t worry, I would be the pilot, not Carlos.’

  ‘Well, I would have to insist on that, unless you’d like me puking all over the pair of you,’ said Gene.