by G R Jordan
The Wrong Person’s Home
“Isn’t it cold without him? Hard to cry, my dear?” jested the witch in the wind.
Something is wrong, thought Havers. Surely they must see I’m a man and not the girl. I’m being taunted with words that mean nothing to me.
“So you’re silent, girl. Maybe you need a further taste of my anger.”
Now that doesn’t sound good, thought Havers.
The wind swirled stronger, blowing into his face and pushing his dapper moustache into his cheeks. Small particles of ice struck his face, but considering the gravity of the earlier threat, the wind and ice didn’t seem to pose any serious physical threat. Havers was baffled.
Stepping forward, the Major walked straight at the witch before him, entering into the immediate vicinity of her storm clouds. The horrid, wicked face spat insults at him, but he felt no resistance as he moved in closer to her. With an extra few steps, he had walked right through the apparition.
And then it was gone. He looked around the cave he had entered, and it was once again dank and uninhabited. Reaching inside his outfit, Havers removed a small circular device and dropped it onto the ground. He checked his watch and found it was receiving a signal.
There was only one exit from cave, and Havers walked through it, although it was smaller than his height. The corridor beyond was cramped, forcing him to crawl on his hands and knees. He mentally calculated that the corridor was some eight hundred metres long before it exited into a vast chamber.
The walls were sheer and white. Inscribed in some sort of ice sculpture were various hideous drawings, and he recognised a few of them. Mother Hydra was depicted along with what looked like a tentacled body with an octopus’ head. Looking further along, he froze on seeing what he believed to be a shoggoth. If there were creatures like this down here, he had better not tarry too long.
There was a sound—it was faint but definitely there. A scratching, like rats in walls, but what rats would live down here? Continuing to examine the images on the cyclopean walls, Havers turned full circle over the next minute as he sought more detail on the wall carvings. He could see nothing.
Above his head, the cavern had icy stalactites which made Havers think there had been a defrosting of the cavern at some point and then it iced over again. Maybe several times. But there was one section that seemed to have an ice disc blocking the bottom of a funnel. Yes, thought Havers, if that blockage wasn’t there it would definitely be funnelling up. Maybe an exit in the past but for something vast. His mind returned to former expeditions in Antarctica which had brought back reports of monstrous buildings.
Continuing along the great cavern, Havers believed he was being followed. There was that sound but otherwise nothing showed or left any marks. After a short time, a large wall appeared before him, but he saw a panel on the ground. The crusted ice floor had briefly respited and a metal panel was visible. Havers dug his heel in at the edge of the panel and pushed back the ice. His foot dragged a line revealing more metal.
Working his way from each corner of the visible panel, Havers traced out the full extent of the metal that lay beneath the ice. Again it was vast, and seemed to be a possible door of some sort, but one for significantly larger creatures than himself. For a moment, he stood and wondered if he should go any further without more back-up, but his curiosity got the better of him, and he drew a small cylinder from his wrist.
Turning the top of the device, Havers ignited a flame at the tip of the cylinder. With a patience born from many stake-outs, Havers calmly worked the flame in a tight circle until the interior piece of metal fell into whatever lay beneath the panel. There was a clatter as the removed piece of metal struck another metallic object. Havers scanned the locality for any sign of movement, but none was forthcoming.
Swiftly, he entered the hole he created and with a small pen torch surveyed how far a drop it was. Maybe twelve feet, he reckoned. Havers dropped and landed on what seemed a metal stanchion and immediately began to slip. His right hand flung out and grabbed the stanchion as his legs slid off and dangled beneath. His left hand also grasped the stanchion, and he pulled himself up onto it.
Breathing hard, Havers rested a moment until he was sure he had recovered. Fortunately, he still had the pen torch and began to shine the light to where he had fallen. The light did not reach the ground. Casting the beam around him, he realised he was on a small gantry which turned into a downward spiral. Following it, he found it to be small again and had to crouch as he descended.
The descent took many turns, and Havers realised how fortunate he had been to land on the stanchion. Any deviation away from it and he would have fallen to his death.
There must be two types of creature for this place, he thought, one immensely vast and the other smaller than humans.
Havers reached the floor of the dark space and felt as if he was in a vast cavern, although it was too dark to see the edges. In the distance, he could see a faint light and decided to take that route. It took a good ten minutes to make his way in the dark, but as he drew closer to the light, his intrigue became greater.
The light was coming from a well-lit corridor, and he could see that there were windows in that passage. After checking all around, he made a dash into the corridor and knelt down to avoid striking his head on the low ceiling. The windows started approximately halfway up the corridor walls, and Havers lay prostrate on the floor so as not to be seen through them. He quickly crawled further down the corridor before lifting himself to the window rim and peering inside.
There were racks of machinery of a sort. Transparent containers held liquids being heated and electricity crackled between nodes, but none of the items were recognisable as any technology he had seen. All was made of dark metal, and Havers stared in disbelief at various animals being held in liquid suspension inside various canisters. But then his eyes caught sight of a pair of legs, pale white, hanging out of a tank. Standing up, he saw a woman’s body, bare but with slivers of ice running along it. Brunette hair floated in the tank covering the woman’s face.
Havers would have sworn it was Calandra if it had not been for one thing: A pair of wings emerged from the body and were flapping wildly, sloshing the liquid in all directions. The hair suddenly moved clear, and Havers saw Calandra’s face with a tube stuck in her mouth. But the real horror was the fear in her eyes. On seeing him, she thrashed hard in the water, seemingly begging for rescue.
Breaking Out
Havers glanced left and right, looking for any threat. None appeared, and he checked for an access to the room in front of him. The corridor had no doors and no other obvious ways of access to the rooms where Calandra was being held. Despite seeing her thrashing in the water, Havers didn’t feel agitated. Instead, he was rather pleased at having found Calandra so quickly. Now he just had to continue working at the puzzle and figure out how to release her.
The corridor extended to a finite point just in view, and Havers ran the length of it to try and find an access point. At the end of the corridor was a small opening about three quarters his height and rather narrow. Crouching, he slid into the gap but felt his knees scrape up against the wall. Misshapen as he was, he still made quick progress, although his muscles screamed at him. The corridor turned back towards the specimen rooms, and Havers reckoned he would be behind them shortly.
A metallic door appeared in the wall and Havers judged that this was at the far end of the rooms. It did not seem to have a handle, and there was a small pad beside the door. Having not seen any of the probable creatures, Havers was reluctant to place his palm on the pad and set off any alarms. He produced the small welding torch and began to cut at the door. After five minutes’ work, he punched through the cut piece and crawled into the room.
The machinery around him was fascinating, but he deliberately ignored it and made his way towards Calandra. The ceiling was low and he proceeded in a stoop. Reaching the tank that Calandra was in, he grabbed her with both hands, trying with some diffi
culty to ignore her nakedness, and helped her to her feet. The black wings that emerged from her back shook themselves dry and Havers found himself staring at them.
“What’s your condition?” asked Havers.
Calandra tried to speak but there was still a tube attached to her mouth, and she was struggling to remove it. Grabbing it with both hands, Havers yanked it hard and Calandra retched as it emerged from her throat. The tube was a half metre long and must have squeezed all the way down to her stomach. Hunched double, she gasped for breath, and Havers took her shoulders holding her tight.
“We need to get your covered,” said Havers.
“Looking that bad, am I?”
“Do you always joke?”
“Sometimes it’s better than thinking about where I am and what state I’m in. Can we get out?”
“I think so,” said Havers. “It’s a bit of a climb, but there are access points and ladders…but I should warn you, the creatures that use them are a touch smaller than us. It may be a bit of a challenge.”
“Then we should go and get out now.”
Havers noticed she was shaking. What with her being a woman that felt no cold, it was clear this was not temperature induced.
“What’s up?”
“You mean apart from the mystical abduction?” Havers nodded, refusing to engage in the flippancy. “Well,” continued Calandra, “these machines…they seem to take out everything that you are. It’s like a draining of the brain, all your thoughts and habits and fears. It’s like your mind is raped.”
“Then we should destroy the place,” said Havers. “Technology that does that doesn’t need to be in the human world. I’ve seen people being mind-probed by many things, but usually the creatures that conduct these cruelties possess little discretion or mercy. A blunt instrument like this in the wrong hands would cause untold suffering.”
“But who made it all? Who’s just screwed with my mind? And how come they’re still here?”
“I don’t know, but we need to go. Would you like my dive jacket?”
“Very chivalrous, Major, but you would freeze. Trust me, I don’t have much worry about dignity anymore when it comes to my body. This ain’t the worst of me.”
“Nonetheless, you are somewhat distracting without sufficient garb so for my sake, please take my jacket.” There was a hint of a grin from her as she took the garment. Havers, trained to such a high standard, missed nothing and he began to realise why she looked for flattery. Poor girl.
“How do we destroy all this, Major? I can punch with the best of them, but it might take me a while,” said Calandra.
“Indeed. However, I do carry some explosive wonders on me, and I dare say they will be sufficient for a room of this size. Once back on top, we need to seal up the pool in case anyone else comes in here.”
“Arthur?”
“Yes…” Havers stopped in his tracks as he realised it wasn’t Calandra speaking to him. That was the voice of a woman, but not just any woman.
“Arthur, how are you, child?
Turning to the sound of the voice, he saw his mother standing beyond Calandra, wearing a blood soaked shirt and exhibiting several holes in her chest. It was her, in every detail, at least as close as he could remember, memory having faded over the intervening years.
“I can see right through you,” laughed Havers and began to march straight at the creature pretending to be his mother. Ignoring the blood, some still dripping to the floor, ignoring the creature with hand extended and a look of pain and anguish on its face, and ignoring the half-dressed, ice woman watching on helplessly, Havers marched straight at his mother’s image determined to walk right through it.
“We can be together again, Arthur,” said the creature.
“Never. Don’t speak, kindly do nothing for you are not real.”
Striding forward, Havers jarred suddenly as he struck the creature.
It was real.
Those Left Behind
Havers straightened up and stared into the eyes of his mother. Still full of disbelief that this was his actual mother, he sought for any imperfections in the disguise. Her dark auburn hair was perfect, even to the matting of the blood where it hung down over her shoulder touching the highest bullet wound. Her shoulders were slightly uneven, and she stood slightly stooped, a product of a sledgehammer that glanced her back during one failed night operation.
“Hello, little one. You seem so anxious.”
“You finally seem to recognise me, your little Lewis,” said Havers in a flat tone.
“Lewis? Only your grandmother would ever have called you Lewis. You’re my little Art. My Arthur. And you have a girl with you. I always said you would find a beautiful wife.”
Blood was dripping from his mother’s wounds, slow but steady and staining the floor. She smiled and beckoned her arms open crouching as she did as if calling a small child to her.
“You died,” said Havers, “back in the Russian snow! You didn’t get up. You weren’t rescued, and you bled out in my arms as I cried aloud. I left you dead, just before they came back for me, deciding a child can always grow up to remember. You are not my mother.”
“Gdansk,” said Havers’ mother. “Remember the flowers so white on the trees, and you asked how it snowed in the summer. They twirled round to the ground like a snowflake. You asked why it always snowed in Russia, even in the summer. And your father laughed. And I scolded him for mocking you, but he was proud of you, Arthur. Deeply proud.”
Havers turned his face, unable to cope with this remembrance of a happier time. Standing to one side and more than somewhat confused Calandra stepped in front of the figure purporting to be Havers’ mother.
“So how did you think it was me that was your little one? And why kidnap me and put me in a tank wired up to this rack over here?”
The face of the blood stained woman looked a little confused and twisted briefly. “The little ones take time to learn. It’s hard for them to fully grasp and bond to a subject. But they can find your needs.”
“What are you talking about?!” shouted Calandra her wings unfurled.
“Once they have you, once they have taken all of the knowledge you need to be helped…then comes someone familiar, someone comforting. It has been so long that the young ones have forgotten how to make the attachments. But that does not matter. You will still have your comfort.”
“Comfort?!” shrieked Calandra. “You showed me that damn witch. The bitch that cursed me!”
“No, no, no. We find the best person to bond with for you. She understands you. She knows you. She made you.”
Calandra turned away, shaking her head, and Havers stepped back up to the creature.
“You help others, after the other creatures hurt them for information, yes?” Havers watched the creature nod. “But the other creatures are gone, so why are you here? Why didn’t you go with them?”
The creature suddenly began to melt. It went from an image of Havers’ mother to a large grey bull about three quarters the height of most humans.
“They left us. It was some time ago when they returned to their stars, chased away by the creature they made.”
“You mean the Elder Ones?”
The creature seemed bemused by the words and didn’t answer. Because of its new strange shape Havers found it difficult to read.
“They left when the dogs turned. Their lapdogs. They still roam around here, usually further down. It has been many years since we have seen one. But they are here. We feel them here.”
“Why not leave?” asked Havers.
“We help. You need help, and you don’t see. So we help. You are dispensed help.”
“Hmm..,” said Havers. “Whether we want it or not.”
Again, the creature took on a bemused face, like it didn’t understand the statement. “Well, many thanks, and I’m sure you had the best of intentions, but we are going now and request you don’t hinder us any further. Come on, Miss Calandra.” Not looking back, Havers
heard Calandra follow him and made for the gap through which he had entered the room. Suddenly his mother appeared again.
No call out, no impassioned plea, thought Havers. He flicked his head round and saw the creature still stood where it had been before. It’s only the kids, he mused, and he walked straight through the figure in front of him. Like a projection, it gave way.
“Come on, I think this may be the proverbial stroll in the park,” laughed Havers. Crouching, he side-shuffled through the gap into the corridor behind the room. As he made his way out into the corridor at the front of the equipment room, he was surprised to see his boss standing in front of him wearing her crown.
“Evening, your Majesty,” quipped Havers walking straight through the figure. Well, well, she would never believe this one. Impersonating the Queen, I reckon there’s a jail term for that behaviour.”
Carrying on, Havers exited the small corridor into the large cavernous surroundings he had first encountered. Still dark, he sought the relief of the wall on the nearest side to guide him to the steps.
Without warning, the cavern lit up, the bright light stinging their eyes, and they shaded them with one hand whilst they continued seeking out their passage. A sound bellowed out along the chamber like the unholiest bull snort ever heard. Havers turned to Calandra and held up a hand telling her to stop.
“You are about to see a sight and sound so horrendous that you may struggle to come to terms with it, but remember it’s just a projection of sorts, and we simply need to pass through it.” Calandra nodded and looked ahead. Before he had turned round, he saw her clasp a hand to her mouth and then turn from the sight.
“Just a projection my dear, just a projection. Watch.”
Havers turned round and threw a small stick from his sleeve a considerable distance along the hall. Some three hundred metres away, the spinning device landed onto a creature every part of Havers’ mind was trying to dismiss. His jaw dropped as the stick bounced off the creature.
