by David J Howe
‘Something happened when I touched it before,’ said Kate. ‘What do you know about it?’
Cavendish retreated further into himself. ‘Nothing,’ he said a little too quickly. ‘Nothing at all.’
Cavendish looked around at the clearing. The light was starting to fade, and the area was as silent as the grave.
‘We’d best get back,’ he said. ‘Dark soon.’
Kate nodded, regarding the statue with suspicious eyes. ‘Well … there’s nowhere else to go …’
She dropped her hand and returned to where Cavendish was standing.
‘Come on then,’ she said brightly.
Then she turned and headed back towards the cottage. Cavendish stayed looking at the statue for a moment longer, then he scuttled after her.
In the clearing, the silence was deafening. As the light slowly faded, so a strange white mist started to pool around the base of the statue.
4
Lost in Time
Andy opened his eyes. He felt odd, as though he had been sleeping on his arm, and it had all gone pins and needles and numb. Except that it was his whole body.
He looked down at his hands. They were there. And he was wearing his favourite silvery suit.
His legs and feet seemed to be there as well.
But where was he?
He looked around. He seemed to be back on Earth, in Devil’s End, at the place that he and Laura … that he and Laura … he couldn’t quite place the thought. Something had happened. They had been caught. Dragged back through time to the Sodality’s future. But there, the intense pressures of the time vortex, and the powerful connection that the Sodality were maintaining back to this time … was he alive?
Andy concentrated for a moment. He could sense a channel nearby, and he found that he was able to draw a little of the power from it.
He looked at his hands and they faded from view momentarily before solidifying into what looked like real flesh.
He remembered the tearing sensation as the Sodality tried to destroy him. It appeared they only partially succeeded, and now he was in this ghost-like form, separated from his body, and thrown back to this key nexus point.
If he focussed, he could see all times laid out before him. Perhaps this was his own time snake. He could see places he had been, battles he had fought, and he felt that he could step into them, perhaps to relive them, perhaps to influence them.
More importantly was the fact that he was in this place at this time. An event of clear importance to the Sodality was about to take place, and he was right in the line of fire so to speak.
The problem was, what to do?
Andy tried heading to the cottage. Perhaps if he could talk to Cavendish, to warn him.
Cavendish? Who was Cavendish?
Andy realised that past, present and future were all accessible to him. He knew what was going to happen, he just had no clue as to how to stop it. He knew who Cavendish was, what he had done, what he was going to do …
He had never felt so helpless.
Andy slipped through the cracks in now and found himself at the clearing where Kate Lethbridge-Stewart was about to arrive.
There was a movement in the bushes, and she stepped out, looking concerned.
Andy drew some power from the portal, and his foot cracked against a stick on the ground. The extent to which he could influence his surroundings was limited.
‘Hello? Anyone there?’
Kate called out and looked around. At one point she looked directly at Andy, but didn’t see him.
‘Is this you?’ she asked the statue. ‘I don’t need this. So I can’t just leave, is that it?’
While she pulled out her mobile phone – an object long obsolete in Andy’s time, but which he recognised the function of at an intellectual level, and indeed had seen himself during his many trips to this time – Andy crept back around the clearing. He knew what was going to happen here and had to ensure he protected Kate from the worst.
She put the phone away and reached out to touch the statue. This was it.
As Andy watched, her hand connected with the foot of the gargoyle, Kate’s image flickered and she vanished.
Andy concentrated on her time snake, and poured a little energy into it. Seconds later, Kate reappeared, looking puzzled and shocked but none the worse for wear.
Andy could sense the confusion and fury of the Sodality in the far future, and smiled to himself.
At least she was safe, and if he could help keep her that way, then maybe they could prevent the coming events from being the end of everything.
Andy phased out of solidity again. He had to try and keep his mind on the order that things needed to play out. Something that was hard enough even when you had all your corporeal parts intact. As an insubstantial ghost, it was even harder!
5
Tea with Douglas
‘… if you think I’m staying outside, then you’re sadly mistaken!’
Kate put her hands on her hips and looked at Douglas in amazement.
‘But we can’t stay inside … it’s … it’s dark and …’ his voice started to tail off, so Kate interrupted him.
‘… and you can stop that right now! There’s nothing to be scared of. Look, you asked me to come here, right?’
Douglas looked at her, wide eyed and terrified, and after a moment he nodded.
Kate considered that this was like dealing with her son … she needed to be calmer, more reasoned.
She smiled at him gently. ‘And now I’m here. I’ve got no choice but to stay, so let’s go and see what’s got you so upset, eh?’
Douglas nodded.
‘It’s all right. Honestly it is. We can’t make tea out here now can we?’
Kate’s logic was impeccable, but she was very concerned about him. His behaviour was very unpredictable and for the first time in her life, she didn’t feel certain about her circumstances. What was really going on with Douglas? Was he losing his mind?
‘Douglas? Douglas? Should I try and call for someone?’
Cavendish shook his head. ‘No … no …’
Kate pressed on: ‘There’s a Doctor I know …’
‘I’m fine. Really.’
With that, Cavendish seemed to relax a little, even offering a slight smile to Kate.
Kate nodded, turned, and entered the cottage.
Cavendish, as usual, cast a glance around himself and then followed her inside.
The cottage was quiet.
A grandfather clock clicked away the seconds at the end of the hallway. But there was no other sound or movement.
Kate and Cavendish stood in the hallway and waited.
Kate had no idea why Cavendish was so upset. It could be anything, and her nerves were jangling now too. This whole situation was very odd and she couldn’t stop herself from wondering exactly what had happened outside with the gargoyle.
She put her rucksack down on the floor and looked up the stairs. There was a nice stained glass window at the top, and the fading sun was glinting through it.
To her left were a couple of steps down into a dining room. She looked in.
There was nothing to see. A dark wooden table was set with knives and forks as if ready for dinner. Nothing seemed out of place.
Kate’s eyes scanned the room, skipping right over the faint figure of Andy who was standing in full view watching them intently.
‘Nothing,’ said Kate.
She moved down the hallway. A little further on was a closed door leading to the understairs area. She tried the door but it was locked.
Cavendish took a couple of steps towards her and placed his hand on the door, as though ensuring that it was indeed closed and secure.
‘Yes. Keeps him at bay.’
His eyes scanned the hallway before coming to rest on Kate. He leaned forward as though imparting a big secret. ‘But sometimes he comes out.’
Cavendish suddenly heard the cold voice in his head once more. ‘It will be opened soon
.’
‘No,’ he retorted to the air. ‘It must stay locked!’
Kate was looking at Cavendish. ‘Keeps who at bay? Why must it stay locked?’
Cavendish looked surprised, as though he hadn’t meant to say those words out loud. ‘There’s … a person … a figure … I don’t know. Honestly.’
Kate looked at Cavendish for a moment and then headed upstairs.
When she had gone, Cavendish tried the door handle again, just to make sure that it was indeed locked. He then put his ear to the door and listened, before once more trying the handle.
With this ritual complete, Cavendish was happy.
Kate returned from upstairs. ‘Nothing up there either … Whatever it is that’s going on in this house, it’s being pretty quiet about it.’
Behind her, on the stairs, the silent hard-to-see figure of Andy stood, watching.
Cavendish shrugged.
‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ asked Kate. ‘It is a bit cut off out here, and you’re only just out of hospital. At least let me call for a doctor.’
She pulled her mobile phone from her pocket again and checked the screen. Still no signal.
‘Hopeless,’ she said under her breath, and moved past Cavendish into the front parlour of the house. There she sat on the overstuffed sofa, and regarded Cavendish with a critical eye.
Cavendish stood by the doorway, not quite sure what he should do. It had been a long time since he had entertained anyone.
Drinks. That’s what people did. Normal people. They offered each other drinks.
Cavendish went to the cabinet on which stood the photograph of the Brigadier. He pulled out two glasses, and a bottle of Scotch, then sat in his favourite chair.
‘You’re going to have to open up a little, Douglas,’ said Kate. ‘As far as I can see, this is a perfectly normal cottage, but with some heating issues, and a little dry rot in the walls …’
‘I wasn’t sure you’d believe me,’ said Cavendish, pouring two generous shots of the Scotch into the glasses.
‘I came didn’t I? I’m not in the habit of dropping everything to run off somewhere, you know. You’re lucky that Beth was available to look after Gordy …’
Cavendish looked up at Kate. ‘Gordy?’
‘… my son? Otherwise I’d not have been able to come.’
‘I am grateful,’ said Cavendish, passing her one of the glasses.
There was a pause while Cavendish and Kate sipped their drinks. Cavendish’s eyes flitted all around the room and the doorway, while Kate studied Cavendish intently.
After a moment, Kate placed her glass down on the table, noting the large leather-bound tome there, as well as a manila folder stamped with the familiar UNIT decal, the words TOP SECRET and the code number ‘05-06/71 JJJ’ stencilled on the front. She decided to make no comment.
Cavendish cleared his throat. ‘I think … I think this place is haunted.’
Kate looked up sharply. ‘By this person you’ve been seeing?’
Cavendish swallowed and nodded.
‘Douglas,’ said Kate gently, ‘You’re a UNIT operative …’
‘Ex-UNIT operative …’
‘Okay, Ex-UNIT operative … and you’re telling me you’re afraid of the ghost of Aunt Mable?’
Cavendish looked at his hands. ‘It’s not as simple as that.’
‘I should hope not,’ said Kate.
‘I’ve seen things in this place at night,’ Cavendish said. ‘Heard things too. Crying and screaming. Souls in torment.’
Kate narrowed her eyes. Souls in torment. She remembered what had happened when she had touched that statue. Where it had taken her (or what it had shown her): exactly what had happened was not clear to her.
Cavendish continued: ‘At first I thought it was the drink – after I was discharged from the hospital, I hit the bottle quite hard. Trauma can do that to a chap, they say. But when the voices started, I gave it up, but it wasn’t the booze at all. By then it was too late …’
He reached out and touched the large book, stroking his fingers over it almost reverentially.
‘What’s that?’ Kate asked.
Without waiting for an invitation, she pulled the book over to her and opened the cover. Pictures of a devil-like creature were revealed. She flicked on a few more pages: more images of death and destruction, devils and mayhem. She looked too at the words printed in the book, but then found that she could not focus on them. They kept shifting around, making themselves hard to read.
‘Devils, demons and spells?’ she said, raising her eyes to look once more at Cavendish.
He squirmed in his seat, but then seemed to gain resolve. He looked at Kate.
‘It was meant to be my pension. UNIT looks after its own … they said. Only while you’re useful to them.’
Kate considered that. Her father had always said that UNIT was a great place to serve as they always looked after their fellows.
‘But dad always said – ’
‘ – It’s fine for your father!’ Cavendish almost spat the words. ‘Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart gets a much better deal. But for an unknown Captain … forget it!’
Cavendish pulled the book in front of him once more, and stroked the pages with his fingers as his mind went back in time. ‘I once asked your father if he had ever taken any “keepsakes” from his time with the Taskforce … the irony is I did just the same.’
Kate frowned. ‘I was as surprised as anyone when we found that he had … Sorry … go on.’
Cavendish almost ignored her, so intent was he on his own memories and story.
‘UNIT has a secure facility. Just outside London. Vast warehouse-like place, covered with alarms and barbed wire. They keep all their “treasures” in there. Strange alien objects … guns … pieces of equipment … crates of shop dummies …’
Kate smiled. ‘Why would they keep crates of shop dummies …?’
Cavendish ignored her.
‘Chipper Norris, an old friend from Oxford, was really into old parchments and manuscripts. Worth a fortune he once told me, so I took it.
‘You stole it?’
‘It was quite easy, really, just slipped it under my jacket and walked out with it. No-one questioned VO staff, security getting a bit lax and all that.’
‘But what’s it for?’ asked Kate.
‘For? It was a means. A way out. Something I wanted. After I took it, I kept it hidden for months. Then, after my … my …’ Cavendish shuddered and slumped back in his chair. Kate stayed silent, and after a moment, Cavendish straightened his back and continued.
‘When I first tried to read it, I couldn’t make any sense of the words, they all kept jumping and moving. But then, I found I could read sections. Strange words, poetic …’
Kate looked down at the book and back at Cavendish. ‘So you’ve been reading from the book?’
Cavendish nodded.
‘And that’s when things started to happen to you?’
‘I thought I could control it. I thought it would be a way for me to get some power, some respect. To be someone. But it started to read itself. To control me!’
Cavendish reached for his drink, and the cool, cold voice echoed in his head once more.
‘But not totally in control. We need more power, the final incantations …’
Cavendish blinked and with a shaking hand placed the glass back on the table.
‘Which is when I started to hear voices in my head, to see things … people … Kate … I … I …’
Cavendish broke down in tears, and Kate moved to sit on the arm of his chair, stroking his matted hair. There wasn’t much more she could do.
She moved the book away from his hands and closed the cover.
‘Maybe we need that tea now … leave that book alone.’
Cavendish sniffed and composed himself. ‘I intend to. But you’ll see, Kate. You’ll see what we’re up against.’
Kate stood. ‘We?’ she said, and h
eaded off to find the kitchen and to make them both a cup of tea.
Left alone with his thoughts Cavendish worried that he had brought Kate into this. Deep down he knew he was in serious trouble. He needed help and so had been compelled to contact Kate even though UNIT should have been his first port of call. The problem there was he had broken the law by removing his trophies from the vault. He couldn’t call in for help, and if he did, would anyone even believe him?
No, Kate had been the only person he could reach out to. He knew that, just as surely as he realised he had feelings for her. It was all too complicated. But if anyone could help him straighten out, she could.
Kate returned with the tea and they sat drinking in silence. The hot liquid revived Cavendish for a short time, making him feel stronger, more stiff upper lipped, in the way that only a strong cuppa could.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
‘What for?’ Kate asked.
‘For coming when I needed you.’
6
Night Terrors
‘You can sleep here,’ said Cavendish, showing Kate into a neat bedroom.
‘Are you sure you’ll be alright,’ she asked, concerned.
‘I’ll be fine,’ he assured her. ‘Just fine.’
Kate looked around the room, everything seemed completely normal. ‘Okay then. But just shout if you need me. If anything happens?’
Cavendish nodded and backed out the room, closing the door behind him.
Kate looked around the room again, and sat on the bed. She pushed off her shoes and lay back on the bed.
Her mind was going six to the dozen, turning over the stories she had heard today, and the unusual events she had witnessed.
Douglas’ behaviour was odd, but he didn’t seem dangerous. He was terrified of something and Kate wanted to get to the bottom of it if she could.
Something was going on here … she just wasn’t sure quite what.
What of that book? Kate had felt nothing when she touched it, but Douglas’ attachment to it concerned her. He had caressed it as though he drew some comfort from it. But then how strange to say it was ‘reading itself’. What did it all mean?