by Peter Oxley
My mind was spinning with this latest turn of events. Whilst I had started to reconcile myself to an eternity of damnation just a few hours beforehand, I had harboured the hope that somehow all would be well and that Maxwell and N’yotsu would find a way to save the day, even if that meant doing Andras’s bidding. A thought occurred to me and I looked at Kate, who until a few minutes beforehand must have thought that this was just another ordinary day. I was surprised and shamed by what I saw; she appeared to have accepted our fates with a rather impressive amount of stoicism.
Something scratched at the door. At first I thought that I had imagined it, but then the sound was repeated more insistently, a scrabbling like a man trying to dig himself from his own grave.
Andras threw its hands in the air. “Now look what you’ve done; you’ve caught their attention.”
“Whose attention?” I asked.
“Why, the creatures that live here. Or to be more precise, the creatures which are trapped here.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. The memories came flooding back: of the voice of my dead mother, of Rachel’s cadaverous form reaching out of my nightmares, of the creatures which had tried to pull us into the portal which Maxwell had created and Kate had destroyed. I had hoped that all of that was behind me and yet there we were, right in the middle of their domain.
Andras laughed at the look on my face. “Actually, this could be fun.”
Chapter 27
I paced the floor of the room, glancing nervously at the tables and cabinets which we had piled against the doors and windows in the hope of keeping at bay the residents of this Hell-like domain. Not for the first time I touched the reassuring coldness of the hilt of my sword, my one remaining sliver of sanity in that strange place.
Andras chuckled. “Still got that, I see,” the demon said. “Still suiting you well, I hope? Doing everything you dreamed it would do?”
I glared at the creature. “It has been a while since it was tested out in anger,” I said. “Care to oblige me? I could think of a few inventive places to stick the blade.”
Andras laughed and clapped. “Bravo! Such spirit. You are welcome to try, although rest assured that my retaliation would make what you experienced earlier at my hands feel like a mere aperitif. I have so many inventive ways to cause pain, and it appears we have an eternity in which to experiment.”
In spite of its words, the demon remained on the other side of the room and, after a few minutes of glowering, I walked over to Maxwell and N'yotsu. “I am really hoping you have come up with some form of plan,” I said.
The expressions on their faces was answer enough.
“Why do we not just kill the demon and then you can rebuild the device and send us back home?” I asked.
Andras cackled. “Just try it,” the demon said. “I should love for you to try. I refer you to our earlier conversation about the unspeakable agonies which would be visited on you in retaliation.” It walked over to us. “You cannot kill me. Death is something which is visited upon living beings, creatures which have been born and live out a life. I am not one of those; I am a force, like the driving wind. You cannot kill the wind.”
“No,” said N’yotsu. “But you can contain it, and I believe that is precisely what we have achieved here. You are as trapped as we are.”
“You know,” said Andras, pointing at Maxwell. “It is only really you that I need. The others are completely expendable. N’yotsu here,” it sneered his name. “Cannot create or manipulate these machines on his own. As for the other two, they are merely here for my amusement. I can think of many inventive and painful ways for them to die. Maybe I shall start with the girl. No, better still, your brother. Does that provide sufficient incentive?”
“I am sorry,” Maxwell said to us. “But I have to balance our lives against that of the whole world. If we have to pay that price, so be it.”
We nodded in slow, dumbfounded agreement. My heart pounded and every fibre of my being cringed at the thought, but I knew that it was the only way.
N’yotsu grinned mirthlessly. “And besides,” he said to Andras. “I do not believe you are telling the whole story. Again. I would wager that death does not have the same impact here as it does on our world.”
“Very good,” said Andras. “He’s good is he not? Very clever. Wonder where he gets that from.” The demon smiled slyly. “Concepts such as time and death do not hold here in the same way that you have always known them. Many of the creatures outside this room have been stranded here for millennia, never ageing, never dying. Never knowing the blessed release that you too will eventually crave. They would rip you apart and you would know nothing but an eternity of pain. It will consume you and you will become one of them.” Andras shrugged. “But if that is what you want...”
“But then at least we will have the satisfaction of knowing that you will suffer the same fate,” said Maxwell.
“Yes... and no,” grinned the demon. “You see, while time has no real meaning in this place, you will still be aware of its passing, or at least the relative value of time as it appears to you. Whilst a millennium is an eternity to you, for the likes of me it is the mere blink of an eye. I can survive here quite happily; indeed, spending time in a place like this made me the demon I am today. The aeons here will be much kinder to me than to you. By the time an opportunity to escape presents itself to me—and it will—I shall be ready and waiting to take advantage of it. You, on the other hand, will still exist, but be mere husks, just like those creatures outside this door, itching to get at the pure, living flesh trapped within.” Andras leant against the wall and folded its arms. “Your choice, but I know which one I would choose. Use your talents to form an escape from this place and still have a slim chance of stopping me. Or rot here for all eternity, with no chance at all to foil my plans.”
We looked at each other. “Hate to admit it,” said Kate. “But the demon’s got a point.”
Chapter 28
Kate and I stood and watched as Maxwell set to his device, but this time his progress was stilted as he grappled with a problem which he clearly had not yet quite solved, namely how to find our world from the limbo of the Aether. In this task he was again aided by the comments and observations of N’yotsu and Andras while Kate and I watched from the sides, not completely sure whether we would really be able to offer anything which would be of use in the current task. The continued scratching and shuffling at the doors and windows—accompanied by muffled moans—were ample reminder of the need for urgency. Around our feet wove curling licks of Aetheric mist which had managed to slip through into our sanctuary, reminding us of how transient our safe haven actually was.
Kate shuddered and, for a moment, I was tempted to put a reassuring arm round her but restricted myself to a brief smile. I imagined her response to such uninvited intimacy would be as colourful as it was abusive; after all that we had been through she felt almost a part of the family and yet, aside from the odd drunken conversation, I knew hardly anything about her. I cast my eye around the room; for all I knew, I might never get a chance to get to know her.
Before my thoughts could spiral any further downward, Kate spoke. “So, this Aether,” she said. “What, or where, is it?”
I feared that her comments would be an unwelcome intrusion in an ongoing debate, but it seemed Maxwell was willing to explore any avenue. “I always surmised it to be a form of medium,” he said. “Something which enabled light or sound to pass through the world—namely, the Luminiferous Aether. It appeared that I was sorely mistaken; instead, I believe that we are in another world which is able to exist alongside ours, hidden from view for the majority of the time, with the residents of either side unable to influence the other, at least for the majority of the time.”
“He’s right to a certain extent,” said Andras. “Always has been. What you refer to as the Aether is a place between realms, the glue that binds everything together. It is a separate place, but it is a place which is not a place,
somewhere and nowhere all at the same time.”
“Less of the riddles,” said Kate. “What do you mean, ‘realms’?”
“Your world, for instance, is a realm, as is the world which I hail from. There are thousands if not millions of realms out there, all coexisting in the same place but slightly removed.”
“Like a large stack of paper,” I said.
“Very good,” Andras said. “It is not a perfect analogy, but it works for our purposes. The only way one can travel from one realm—or sheet of paper if you will—to another would be to punch a hole out of that realm and into another, with the passage being directly through the space between the pieces of paper.”
“Being the Aether,” said N’yotsu slowly.
“Indeed,” said Andras, watching our friend closely.
“So if you can’t punch a hole of your own, then how did you get to our realm in the first place?” asked Kate.
“Under normal circumstances it would require a large amount of what you would, for want of a better term, call magical energy. There are some amongst my kind who are capable of such things.”
“But not you,” I said.
The demon scowled at me.
“And yet you were sent on your own,” said N’yotsu. “That much is clear by the fact that our world is not overrun by your kind. So why would you be sent over in that manner, unless you were exiled? Yes! You were expelled from your world and trapped here, in the limbo which is the Aether, unable to escape until some unwitting sorcerer somehow managed to open a hole from our realm into the Aether. From what I have seen and heard, it would require a huge amount of energy to punch just one hole from a realm—to create another one into another realm would require exponentially greater amounts of energy. Not to mention knowing exactly how to locate each realm.”
“In any case, such magical energy is now redundant in your realm,” said Andras. “I believe the reason is your kind’s obsession with science.” Again, it spat the word as though it were a curse.
“How so?” asked Maxwell.
“It is a fundamental law that opposites cannot inhabit the same space without competing or cancelling each other out,” said the demon in a bored voice, as though it were explaining a simple concept to a room full of children. “Such is the case with science and magic. Surely you must know this?”
“So the technologically advanced state of our world means that magic is becoming more and more scarce?” said Maxwell slowly.
“Yes!” Andras shook its head. “I clearly overestimated you; I thought you had at least grasped these fundamental principles from the outset. Has all this just been trial and error? I could have employed a monkey to achieve much the same results.”
Maxwell opened his mouth to retort but Kate cut in before an argument broke out. “But we’re no longer in our realm,” she said. “So why don’t you use your magic to get back home yourself?”
“It cannot,” grinned N’yotsu. “The demon is not powerful enough.”
“The nature of the Aether is such that it is connected to the realms around which it resides,” said the demon in a level voice. “Therefore the nature of your realm affects the nature of this part of the Aether that we are in. We could travel to another part of the Aether which is closer to another realm with more dominant magical energies. All we need to do is open those doors and navigate our way through the hungry hordes of half-dead creatures out there.” It gestured at our barricades, thankfully still holding firm against the scratching and moaning nightmares without. “Please, be my guest.”
“Resonances,” said Maxwell, his eyes focused on some distant vision which only he could see, no doubt a world populated by equations and spinning cogs. “I surmise from what we have learned here that each realm has a particular type of resonance. Once you know the resonance, then you can open a portal to that realm, assuming you have the requisite power.”
“Yes,” said Andras slowly, the grin reappearing on its face.
“So therefore…” he ran over to one of the Sound Conduits and lifted the earpiece, spinning a dial which was embedded on the face of the device. He looked up at us with a broad smile. “When I created the Aetheric Sound Conduit, I came across other, weaker, resonances. I discounted them as they were not substantial enough for the purposes I required and simply noted them for future investigation. Here, though, they are much stronger. I believe they are each a different realm!”
“Including ours?” I asked.
“Including ours,” he confirmed. “All that I need to do is connect this functionality,” he gestured to the dial which he had just been tinkering with, “to the portal device.” With those words he set to the device with a renewed intensity, tools seemingly appearing from thin air as he disassembled and reassembled all manner of devices.
“I am intrigued,” said the demon as it watched him. “So this portal creating machine came from your experiments by using the Aether as a form of communication? That really is quite ingenious. I always knew you had it in you.”
Maxwell turned and glared at the creature. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“How about a deal?” continued Andras. “Work for me and apply your talents in my service. In return, I would give you all the resources you could ever need. The knowledge of all ages. Just think of the things we could create and discover together!”
Maxwell stared at him, and for a moment I feared that he would accept. Finally he turned away. “I have seen how your deals work out,” he said.
“So is that a ‘yes’?”
“No,” said Maxwell, returning to his work. I could not see his face but there was something about his tone which made me wonder whether he truly meant it.
As he continued with his task, I kept a wary eye on the barricades which kept the things outside from breaking in. Whilst we had used every spare item of heavy furniture in the room, they were still of hasty construction and one of the few things which Maxwell had managed to teach me—mainly through painful and humiliating experience—was that such things were very rarely as sturdy as something which had been meticulously and carefully pulled together. As I watched I saw the furniture blocking the doorway move by a very small amount and rushed over to it, pushing back. I felt the barricade yield and took a deep breath, planting my feet as firmly as I could and forcing it back, all the while aware of the rhythmic movements of the creatures pushing from the other end.
Kate arrived at my side. “Trouble?” she asked.
“I am afraid so,” I said. “Could you check that the other barricades are still holding firm? We will need to find more ways of keeping them out.”
In a perverse way, focusing our attentions on the barricades proved to be a welcome diversion, albeit rather a nerve-wracking one. Previously I had been forced to just observe the scientific debates and tinkering, something which I found excruciatingly dull at the best of times. However, in that hellish prison my inactivity had led to my mind wandering time and again to places I would rather it did not. Not least were thoughts of Rachel, my mother and father and of course the people I had killed over the years; if the Aether was in some way a form of spirit world, were they a part of the horde scratching away outside? Was this my fate, to be consumed in Purgatory by the mindless forms of those I once knew, loved and hated?
Finally having a useful job to do, I threw myself into action with renewed vigour and developed an obsession with maintaining our defences, whilst my brother worked on getting us home.
After what could have been hours, days or even years, Maxwell reached into the device and pulled, straining with effort. There was a click and the machine started to hum. The mists retreated from around us as colours started to coalesce from within the machine, starting with a point directly in front of it and projected by the funnel which stretched out from the centre. This point grew and grew until it was tall enough for a man to walk through.
“There,” said Maxwell, slumping to the ground in defeat as the portal showed our home, reaching out to us inv
itingly.
“Step away,” said Andras, and we complied as it turned its hateful gaze on us. “So, how does it work?”
“Those levers,” said Maxwell. “The first sets the device in motion. The dial enables you to select destinations. The other lever then opens a portal to wherever the device is aimed at.”
“So I can punch into and then through the Aether?”
“I believe so,” he said, then corrected himself. “Yes. Yes you can. As long as you know where you are ‘punching though’ to.”
Andras stood over the dial and spun it, seemingly at random, then pulled the second lever. A second portal opened on a deep red sky in which flaming hot raindrops fell towards a molten ocean. The demon spun the dial again and the view within the portal shifted, to show a stormy ocean. Further spins yielded a shining bright blue sky and a grimy, metallic street. He pulled the lever again and the second portal disappeared.
“It actually works,” said Andras clapping wildly.
“You do not just plan to go home, do you?” I said, giving voice to the bitter fears we all shared.
Andras grinned at me. “I shall do better than that,” it said. “I shall make your realm my home. For millennia, I have been separated from my people but this will give me the opportunity to open a portal to them and to all other realms, to create my very own, special home. I believe you have a phrase which is rather apt: Hell on Earth. That, my dear, sweet Maxwell, is what you have enabled me to create.”
“You know that you will not win,” N’yotsu said. “We will stop you.”
Andras laughed. “What, you and the pathetic humans? That’s excellent. Very funny! You are getting too close to the humans—their emotions are clouding your judgement.”
N’yotsu took a step forward. “I do not understand what you are saying, but I resent the inference.”
Andras cackled, hysterical laughter which set my teeth on edge. “Oh that really is most excellent. Most excellent indeed.”
