The Majestic 311

by Keith C. Blackmore

  Then he noticed the heat.

  Searing, scorching heat, and the alarming smell of his own cooking skin.

  Nathan glanced over his shoulder, at the skyline, where the distant hills or mountains or whatever they were blazed with the approach of a killer sun.

  The crabs didn’t seem to notice.

  A whine of unseen gears and machinery whipped Nathan’s head around, and a sphincter- like hatch opened at the base, some two feet above the desert sand. A green light snapped on from the inside, illuminating a roomy chamber within.

  Nathan didn’t need a proper invitation.

  “Get in!” he yelled and plunged through the opening, clanging the barrel of his Winchester off the frame. The others followed as the heat—that terrible, terrible heat—singed the hair of their ass cheeks.

  Mackenzie pushed his way through, tumbling over Eli’s heels, as Nathan threw himself at the door’s side. He searched the frame, locating an oddly shaped picture just above eye level. He slapped the symbol, fingers becoming desperate claws, searching for a similar groove that had opened the door from the outside. There was no such thing, however.

  Jimmy was through, and Gilbert was right behind him, shoving the buffalo hunter through the doorway.

  The crabs were behind Gilbert.

  A world of crabs.

  The door chirped unexpectedly, and Nathan glanced up as one huge pincer shot out for Gilbert’s naked neck.

  Except Gilbert ducked inside a split second before the crab could get him.

  And the instant Gilbert cleared the threshold, the outer door spiraled shut with a slam and a soft hiss of air. The green light became a bright ring around the ceiling, illuminating them all, while much cooler air flooded the chamber. Claws slammed into the door, seeking to pry their way inside and failing. The remaining gang members pressed themselves against the rounded walls, staring in wide-eyed horror at the sealed entrance and wondering if it would hold.

  “Do something, Rhodes,” Eli said.

  “Hell you want me to do?”

  “Get rid of them things.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  “You got the goddamn door open.”

  “I was lucky.”

  A heavy force slammed off the metal, but failed to do anything except scare the living shit out of everyone inside. Rifles and pistols were aimed at the door, but were eventually lowered when the men realized they were safe from the creatures.

  And that blistering sun.

  Nathan slid down the wall, panting, sweat and grime coating his face, and let his Colts fall to his hips. He drew up his legs for modesty’s sake, realizing that he hadn’t a stitch on him. The other men were likewise without clothing, and only a few held weapons, though they still wore their ammunition belts and bandoliers filled with their remaining rifle and pistol shells.

  “Well, goddamn,” Eli swore and rubbed his face, then his scalp. “This is a first. Almost killed by a bunch… of fuckin’ crabs.”

  “Giant fuckin’ crabs,” Mackenzie added, inspecting first himself, the bare empty area they all occupied, and then the green lights overhead. “The hell are we, anyway?”

  That got looks from all of them.

  “At least it’s cool,” Nathan said. “I was roasting out there, just before the crabs started… well…”

  Images of Leland and Shorty being graphically nipped apart by huge pincers silenced him. He sighed, taking relief from being out of danger for the time being, but sad about the loss of Leland. He was even a little sad about Shorty, too, for that matter, but not in the same degree as the gang leader. Though an outlaw, there was a nobility about Leland Baxter.

  “What do we do now?” Mackenzie muttered, placing his gun across his man-bits.

  No one answered.

  Crabs continued to probe and search for a way inside the chamber.

  “We’re stuck here,” Jimmy said. “That’s the way I see it. We can’t open that door because of the crabs. And even if they weren’t around, the sun would’ve been too damn hot for us, anyway.”

  Too damn hot, Nathan echoed. He focused on the door. “Just keep your hands off that picture up there. That weird one.”

  “The one that looks like a whirlpool?” Mackenzie asked.

  Nathan realized it did look like a whirlpool. “Yeah, that one. It closed the door when you were all through it. This is just a guess, but if you touch it again, it might open.”

  “All right. Got it.”

  “What if the crabs open the door from the outside?” Gilbert asked.

  “Then we’re dead,” Eli said smartly, and smiled at his companion. Gilbert didn’t return the gesture.

  “Then we’re dead,” Nathan repeated with a whisper. They would indeed be dead. Picked apart by pincer and devoured, just like poor old Leland Baxter and Shorty Charlie Williams.

  “What is this place?” Jimmy said, studying the interior.

  “No idea,” Nathan replied. “But I’m thinking… maybe… this place is here to protect whoever built it, from the crabs and the sun.”

  Silence met this observation.

  “Why do you say that?” Mackenzie asked.

  Nathan’s eyes came to rest on the symbol far up the wall, on the left side of the door. He had to reach for it. He had to reach for the groove that opened the door outside as well. Two controls that were placed well overhead, and that made him wonder why.

  He was still wondering when he fell asleep.

  *

  A loud buzzing rattled the bank of controls, and the Vog herdsvog sleepily opened its horizontal eye stalks. Compound eyes located the flashing light upon one console jammed among an intricate wall of others, prompting the Vog herdsvog to draw a shallow breath through its neck gills. It thought-controlled its bunk to recess back into the wall, and the slab of metal rotated until it tipped eighty-five degrees, whereupon the creature stepped away. The Vog herdsvog was almost eight feet tall by human measurements, while its shoulders were three feet across. The Vog was bipedal, its arms and legs skeletal and lengthy, its torso no thicker than a grown man’s thigh.

  The console light continued to flash, bouncing off chrome-colored flesh that appeared shrivelled and pocketed. The Vog herdsvog thought-manipulated a control, which opened a window in the air before its eye stalks. A flash of annoyance then, as a number of reports flared across the ethereal screen. A two-fingered hand rose to its mouth, a horizontal proboscis, and rubbed one side of the rigid extension. The proboscis equaled its eye stalks in length and was situated a few fingers directly beneath them. The Vog’s head was no bigger than, say, that of a human child in its middle years, and its chrome-colored flesh was otherwise featureless.

  A crisp image of the bayak herds filled the center of the screen, complete with scrolling numerals and symbols. The Vog herder studied the information for a lethargic moment before dismissing it. The eye stalks parted then, in a display of surprise, before drawing close together. The proboscis beneath lifted, almost touching the Vog’s eye stalks and completing what could be interpreted as an angry or pensive expression.

  In this case, it was a pensive thought.

  A tube emerged from a nearby wall and floated toward the Vog herdsvog, stopping just before its face. It coupled with the Vog’s proboscis, and the creature took in the first of several feedings throughout the day. The Vog drank, slowly, ingesting both fluids and information, eye stalks wide and unwavering.

  The screen flashed a group of alien lifeforms before the Vog, causing it to cease feeding in mid-stream. The Vog lifted its hand and split the two digits wide, enlarging the recorded images. It thought-pressed points of interest upon the screen, absorbing the finer details, documenting age, sex, body temperature, size, and height, as well as other biological readings of interest. The body fluids filling and comprising a significant percentage of the aliens’ overall mass greatly interested the Vog. The plasma was an enticing mixture of oxygen, proteins, and other nutrients both known and unknown.

  This
data was accurately gathered, as each figure passed through the energy field that separated the numerous bayak herds. An energy field that kept the bayaks within, yet took precise analytical readings of whatever had passed through, either by accident or intentionally.

  The energy field was an exceptional analyzer as well as cage.

  The Vog twirled a finger, and miniature images scrolled as directed. The alien lifeforms were inside a bayak ranch capsule, a multiple sleepaway unit used at night or heat of the day. That the aliens managed to take refuge within the shelter interested the Vog herder very much.

  The Vog resumed drinking, switching camera angles to an outside source, locating the sector the capsule was located within before zooming in and replaying the moments before the shelter’s door had been opened. The distance was great but of no consequence to the Vog surveillance systems. Images were displayed as if the aliens were mere strides away. The Vog checked the time. All events had taken place several krons ago.

  Aliens, trudging across the desert, wilting under the oppressive heat, and then fleeing the waking bayaks. The bayaks catching a pair of aliens and dispatching them. Life fluid spilled from the aliens then. Screams.

  That irritated the herder, knowing the bayaks’ digestive system would reject any food that wasn’t a part of their normal diet.

  The Vog wasn’t about to sift through any bayak excrement.

  The herder’s eye stalks widened at the interesting discharge of weapons. Primitive weapons, but weapons nevertheless. The repeating sound and fury of the sticks brought the Vog herdsvog to an even greater level of attention. It replayed the violence several times, slowing the fight down and examining every minutia of information.

  The Vog watched one of the aliens inadvertently locate and activate the front door of the capsule. They all fled inside and sealed the shelter, much to the displeasure of the bayaks who had sampled the aliens.

  The Vog resumed studying the creatures inside the shelter, as invisible beams further analyzed their genetic makeup without their knowledge. They appeared lethargic, eventually becoming inert, though still managing to make a rattling noise the Vog herdsvog found annoying.

  Tapping a finger against its head, the Vog made a decision. It stopped feeding and switched off the screen, as the footage could be viewed again at any time.

  The Vog herdsvog walked through a rectangular frame, and chrome armor belts immediately fitted to the Vog’s body. It held out a hand, projecting a mental image, and a .50 kor blaster materialized from a pocket of netherspace. The Vog took the weapon, the stock immediately wrapping itself around the sinewy bicep of its upper arm. The weapon’s energy level was instantly known to the Vog. A second thought summoned a long starsteel knife from another pocket of netherspace, the blade long and serrated. The hilt wrapped its length around the Vog’s upper-right thigh.

  The tall creature plodded to the exit, but before it left its home and office, it stopped at a closet and opened the storage space with a thought. A vest flew from the interior and wrapped itself around the creature’s shiny chest. A thought later, and a second sheet of material dropped from the vest, unraveling itself the full length until it resembled a sleeveless winter duster. That wasn’t all, however. The creature reached inside and pulled forth a black felt hat, with a ring of serrated fangs decorating the rim.

  The Vog herdsvog placed the hat upon its head, adjusted it just so, and thought-opened the door.

  31

  “The end,” Nathan’s mother said with a contented smile, and closed the storybook with a soft clap. She stood up from his bedside and moved to the oil lamp, perched on a small chest. Eight-year-old Nathan watched her every movement.

  “Did you like the story?” she asked, picking up the lamp.

  “Yes.”

  “Alice in Wonderland is my favorite,” she told him. “My mother gave me this book. I think I read it in two days.”

  Nathan’s eyes drooped.

  “What an imagination Mr. Lewis had,” she said, her voice laced with pleased wonder. “I’ve read this book five times since, and every time, I wonder if there are places where… if you crawl or step through them, there’s a chance you might find yourself in another place. Another world. Where everything is…very different. Where the animals talk, and up is down, and down is up. That sort of thing.”

  “Mm-hm,” Nathan agreed, struggling to stay conscious.

  His mother held the lamp by her side, the light as bright as a captured star. Darkness crowded her around the edges, however, dimming her face.

  “Mother?” Nathan asked.

  “Yes?”

  “If you… had a chance…” a deep yawn broke his thought. “Would you… want to go…”

  “To a place like this?” she asked with a smile, and held up the book. She sighed, long and dreamy, the sound nudging Nathan just a little more to sleep.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “A story is one thing, and I daresay I wouldn’t be as brave as Alice. But you know something…”

  Nathan didn’t answer.

  “I do think…” she began.

  But by that time, Nathan had fallen asleep.

  *

  Chumpchumpchumpchump … Chumpchumpchumpchump

  Nathan awoke with a lurch.

  It took a moment, but he slowly realized he was still inside the mysterious chamber that had saved them from the crabs. He relaxed, wiped the drool from his mouth, and realized that he was a pale shade of green. Light from the glowing rings set into the ceiling had colored him, and he smiled faintly at the result. The temperature remained cool inside, but he had no way of knowing if the sun was up or not.

  Nathan glanced around the smooth, featureless interior, and a shock ripped through him.

  Thin blue wires extended from the walls and had attached themselves to his arms and chest. One had even slithered up into his neck. In a panic, Nathan jumped to his feet and ripped the cords away. Jimmy and the others awoke to see him freeing himself of the wires, only to realize that they were similarly afflicted.

  “What the hell?” Eli exclaimed before he plucked away four of the things. There was no blood, just a pale discoloration that was noticeable even under the green light.

  “Leeches!” Gilbert said, frantically examining his arms, his legs, and then, with an absolute terrified look, his manhood. “Oh thank you Jesus,” he sighed in relief, seeing all was well south of the border.

  “They aren’t leeches,” Mackenzie said, studying the dangling wires. “But damn if I know what they are.”

  “They’re moving,” Jimmy pointed out.

  That quieted the lot of them, as, sure enough, the wires withdrew into small holes within the walls. Once inside, the holes sealed up without a sound, to nothing more than a small nail head.

  “The hell was that all about?” Eli wanted to know.

  “No idea,” Nathan said.

  “Nate,” Jimmy said. “Weren’t you cut?”

  Nathan glanced at his knee, the one cut by the knife arm back on the train. The wound had healed, the scar barely noticeable. Nathan probed the patch of skin, stretching it one way then the other, before letting it go. “The hell happened there?”

  “Mine’s gone, too,” Gilbert declared in wonder, inspecting his legs and seeing only faint traces of wounds.

  “How long have we been sleeping?” Jimmy asked.

  “Not long enough for that to happen,” Eli said.

  “Well, it did,” Nathan said and looked puzzled, suddenly aware of something else. He felt good. He pawed at the back of his neck and inspected his arms, but couldn’t feel anything resembling the painful tightness of sunburn he should’ve had.

  In fact, he felt fully refreshed.

  “You boys feeling all right?” he asked the others.

  The four men thought about it and went about checking themselves out.

  “I feel pretty good,” Mackenzie said. “Despite where we are.”

  “Same here,” Jimmy reported.

  “Ye
ah,” Eli said in a suspicious tone.

  “Me too,” Gilbert added.

  “I don’t hear any of them crabs trying to get in either,” Eli said and nodded at the door.

  It was true. In the silence that followed, all seemed quiet enough.

  “How long were we asleep?” Jimmy asked.

  “No idea,” Nathan said.

  “We got bigger problems,” Eli said. “And that’s getting out of this shitter.”

  “It’s a pretty nice shitter, Eli,” Gilbert said, whereupon Eli silenced him with a scowl.

  Nathan moved to the door and located the picture of the whirlpool. He studied the symbol and wondered if the thing would indeed open the door if touched.

  “This might do it,” he said. “It closed the door before. There’s nothing else around that I can see.”

  “So that’s it?” Eli asked. “We push that, it opens, and we go?”

  “I ain’t goin’ back out there,” Gilbert said fearfully. “Not if them things are out there.”

  “It’s quiet,” Nathan said after a listen. “Maybe they gave up when they couldn’t get in. If the sun’s gone down, now might be the chance to get away.”

  “Get away to where?” Mackenzie asked.

  Nathan didn’t answer right away. “Same direction we were going before all this happened.”

  “Not sure I like that direction,” Eli countered in a surly tone.

  “Well, that’s the only direction we got.”

  “Maybe I got another direction to go in.”

  “Yeah?” Nathan asked, feeling the rapid rise in tension. “Where’s that?”

  “Maybe I’ll decide when I get out of here.”

  “You thinking about leaving, Eli?”

  “Leland’s gone. Might as well.”

  “Go on, then,” Nathan dared in a calm voice. “Leland’s idea was still a good one. Find the caboose.”

  “Leland’s dead,” Eli said. “And we’re sure as hell nowhere near a train. I don’t think we’ll ever find that train again, so it’s best we look elsewhere. See just what else is out there.”