Hidden Gods

by Anthony Masters

  ‘It’s true, Hugo. When are you going to accept it’s all true? How much more evidence do you need? You can’t go on doubting – not any more.’ She was shouting down the phone now, and he wondered if she was trying to drown her own lack of faith.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He had to reach her. ‘I find it very hard to swim with this tide. But I’m trying. What did the voice say?’

  ‘I woke up round about dawn and I felt it move inside me. Then I heard something saying “I must grow inside you, enter your mind, lead you to the final destination. But only you can find the chamber.’” Philippa began to cry. ‘Every damned word keeps repeating in my head – all the time. What am I going to do? It’s as if I’ve taken over from Brent. Did he have one of these creatures inside him? Dictating what the hell he had to do?’

  Hugo tried to speak calmly, acutely aware of her pain and corroding sense of isolation. ‘Do you want me to collect you from the hotel?’

  ‘Come quickly.’

  ‘I’ll start out now. I’m not trying to hide from any of this. You do realize that, don’t you?’

  ‘How can either of us hide? With this thing inside me?’

  ‘It began on Tiderace. We have to get there. Then we’ll know where we have to go.’

  As Hugo drove down the coast road he tried to cling to the banal normality of the shops and filling stations, cafés and pubs as he sped past them. They were the familiar world that was to give way to the unfamiliar – the parallel life that he had begun to inhabit with Brent and then with Philippa and now with them both. It was becoming increasingly impossible to avoid the knowledge that the Atlanteans had always lived alongside the material world and that he himself had already inhabited many other lives. The thought of his present responsibilities deeply depressed him; evasion was still second nature. Could he change, be different, as Brent had said? And then there was Philippa. If one of the creatures was really growing inside her it could have the most sinister implications. What would it become? What would it make her become? Could she be hosting a monster?

  The Happy Eater, Shell Select, the Fortune of War, Little Chef, Toyota, the Spread Eagle, Esso, Brabazon Motors, Oak Rooms Tea House, the Singing Kettle, Busy Lizzie Garden Centre, West Cliff Farm Shop, Honeypot B & B – the safety of the familiar names was precious, their speeding litany a sanctuary of the material world. The sun was shining brightly after yesterday’s mist and the sea was a brilliant blue, but the unknown was waiting for him. He saw something move on the surface of the water which reminded Hugo of a long tentacle. They were drawing him in and he was leaving the rational behind. From Tiger Tokens to infinity, he thought involuntarily.

  8

  Spirit Guide

  The September sea was gentle, small waves slapping the sides of the boat as Hugo ferried Philippa towards the island, the outboard chugging noisily, seemingly the only sound in a blanket of silence.

  When he had brought her back to Lizards the previous day they had made love, and despite the thing inside her the result was even better than their previous experience in the desert. Hugo was amazed to feel complete unification, and with a surge of unfamiliar joy knew that he could rely on the fact that the eternity of their relationship had been reaffirmed once again – and those doubts at least could finally be dismissed.

  Slowly, throughout the long day and night, Hugo and Philippa had accepted that in Brent’s absence they were destined for a mission. They also knew that their reincarnation was at the core of it all and that they had been developing over the centuries, heading towards the pyramid. The age of miracles was not dead, Hugo had told himself, and a few lines of Schopenhauer returned to him: ‘Every parting gives a foretaste of death; every coming together again a foretaste of the resurrection.’ He had held Philippa tightly in his arms and at last they had both slept.

  Now as the old chine-built boat ploughed towards the rocky outcrop of Tiderace, Hugo felt a sense of finality – that by taking Philippa here they would draw closer to the spirit of Brent and see the way ahead at last. Briefly Lucy’s face swam into his consciousness and he felt a stab of pain. They had not spoken for over a week. And how well did he know Philippa? How well did she know him? They still seemed to be holding back personally, not examining sufficiently the experiences they had shared.

  ‘Sometimes I feel we’ve been travelling through all those centuries as strangers,’ said Hugo suddenly. ‘We’re like the pyramid – full of hidden chambers.’

  She agreed, and there was an uneasy silence while each waited for the other to begin.

  With considerable pain, Hugo began to tell Philippa about his parents, their self-destruction and how he had never been able to face up to those childhood horrors. ‘I reinvented myself – and made a total balls-up of everything in the process. All self-invention does is ring-fence a void. It means you can’t relate to people – unless they’ve seen the abyss, too.’

  Philippa did not respond quickly. She seemed, like him, to be wondering whether she could really expose her innermost being. Then she began in a rush, her words frantic, tumbling over each other in a determined attempt at final exorcism. ‘I can understand that, Hugo. My parents may have been stable but they occupied an island – and all I had was a tiny atoll. I yearned to be loved, but at first I could only relate to other women – lack of mother-love, my analyst told me – so my first sexual relationship was with a woman. We lived together and were in love – were physical lovers. Does that repel you?’

  ‘Why should it?’ The island was in sight now, beguilingly gentle in the gathering sunshine. ‘Don’t be afraid, Philippa. You know how much I love you.’ He watched a cormorant diving low into the water, searching for fish. ‘Did you break up?’ he said softly.

  ‘Mary died. We thought it was migraine, but the doctor insisted she went for a scan.’

  ‘Cancer?’

  ‘A brain tumour. She left me a couple of weeks later.’ Philippa swept on quickly but her agony reached him. ‘After Mary I began to have rather halting relationships with men.’

  ‘How long did your time with Mary last?’ he asked gently.

  ‘Five years. A long time.’ The painful, staccato statements seemed almost forced out of her now. ‘I was writing and she was a painter. We lived in a valley in Vermont which was very remote. We became recluses. We were self-sufficient. Didn’t need anyone else. But all the time I was waiting.’

  ‘Waiting for what?’

  ‘For it to end.’ She sounded slightly impatient, as if he ought to know. ‘I knew it was going to end – that it was only an interval.’

  ‘Did you see the pyramid?’

  ‘No.’ There was a long pause as Tiderace towered above them. ‘When it’s over, if we survive – survive as we are now – could we find a valley or a desert or some place where we can be together just for a while without moving on?’

  Hugo nodded. ‘I would hope it won’t be an interval, though. That we could be permanent’ Permanency – it was something he’d always shied away from, subconsciously avoiding a prolonged intimacy that could be revealing. It was different now; he’d come such a long way in a very short time. But even as he acknowledged it, he felt an onrush of panic. Who knew what could possibly happen with the thing inside her and their mutually impossible goal.

  ‘What will happen when – when this is born, Hugo? Will I be released?’ She sounded dependent on his reply.

  ‘You’ll be protected,’ he said, as comfortingly as he could.

  ‘Who by?’

  ‘By me.’

  ‘And if you aren’t enough?’ she asked baldly.

  ‘The Atlanteans.’

  ‘They are a little ambiguous, aren’t they? They only want to leave and they don’t care how they do it; they don’t care what harm comes to anyone, whether it’s the enemies of the Arab Federation – or us. How can they care, Hugo? They’re neither good nor evil. They’re completely amoral.’

  ‘We’ll see this through together,’ he said doggedly.

  ‘If
we do die – we’ll be sharing another life.’

  ‘Will we? That sounds just a little too cosy, don’t you think? We’ve been preparing for this for a long time. Isn’t this meant to be the end?’

  *

  The boat gently grounded on the sloping shelf that led to the cove. The sunshine seemed old and mellow and warm as they stepped ashore, wading through shallow water and then on to firm sand and rock.

  ‘We’ll climb to the top of the cliff,’ said Hugo.

  ‘Do you hope to see the pyramid?’ She sounded more cheerful, as if his fatalism had in some way comforted her.

  ‘I don’t know. Everything began here. That’s why we’ve come.’

  The bullet whistled over their heads and embedded itself in the rock.

  ‘Get down.’

  Philippa dragged Hugo behind an outcrop of rock. There was another whine and this time the water rippled behind them.

  ‘Get back in the boat,’ he whispered.

  Another shot cracked out, followed by a spreading silence.

  ‘Don’t move yet.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to.’

  Suddenly there were more shots – three this time and then a fourth. Gulls rose screaming and flew high over their heads. The terrible silence spread again.

  ‘I’m going to check this out’

  ‘No-’

  ‘I’ll stay flat against the rock,’ Hugo muttered, inching himself forward.

  ‘Dad.’

  He froze.

  ‘Dad.’

  The voice must be inside his head.

  ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘No one.’ Hugo felt the chill spreading.

  ‘I heard a child’s voice.’

  ‘Keep quiet’

  ‘Dad.’

  Hugo moved cautiously around the rock. Now he could see the beach again, his heart racing so fast that the pounding was unbearable.

  Brent was there, wearing khaki shorts and a sun hat, younger than he had seen him before. His chest was bare and brown, he wore unmistakable Clarks sandals and clutched a bucket and spade.

  ‘Dad.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘You’re to go.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘You’ll come back this time, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course,’ Hugo stuttered.

  ‘I’ve made a castle.’

  But he hadn’t – he’d made a pyramid.

  Brent’s body was translucent now, and through his hazy outline Hugo could see a man lying, half in and half out of the sea. Most of his head had been shot away and a cloud of blood moved with the waves.

  ‘I’ve made a castle.’ The voice was becoming fainter.

  ‘It’s a pyramid.’

  Brent turned to look wonderingly at the pile of sand which glowed when struck by a shaft of sunlight. Then his body shimmered and grew even more insubstantial until what appeared to be a burnt-out negative hovered briefly and then disappeared.

  The body lay in the lapping breakers. It wore jeans and a white shirt and the features were those of an Arab.

  Hugo was flattened against the rock, rooted, unable to move. Then he heard steps on the shingle.

  ‘Hugo Fitzroy.’

  The voice was vaguely familiar, but in his sweating bewilderment Hugo had no sense of recognition, only a paralysing terror.

  ‘Hugo Fitzroy.’

  Nausea swept over him and he swayed on his feet, praying that he wasn’t going to pass out, hanging on to the rock grimly until his fingers stung. He mustn’t fall. He mustn’t go under. Not now. Not with both their lives at stake.

  ‘Philippa Neville.’

  The voice was slightly accented, authoritative, expectant.

  Hugo stepped out of his inadequate hiding-place to see Tarik Ibrahim, perfectly groomed, his dark beard lustrous and his grey suit uncrumpled. Only his light-brown shoes were slightly scuffed. In his hand he still held a small automatic weapon.

  ‘You were walking into an ambush.’

  ‘What ambush?’ He felt light-headed and slightly dizzy. The waves made little lapping noises as they nuzzled the corpse.

  ‘Iraqi Intelligence.’

  ‘What the hell are they doing here?’ asked Philippa.

  ‘Trying to kill you.’

  ‘Then who are you?’ Hugo asked. ‘You don’t represent a government, do you?’

  ‘No – I belong to the Brotherhood of the Winged Disc. I hope you’ll forgive my charade. I was not sure of you; there were things I needed to know – still need to know, particularly as I’m sure you managed to resist my powers of hypnotism. I was a little mortified by that. I didn’t realize how many inner resources you had to fall back on.’

  I didn’t know then, thought Hugo. But I do now. He looked down at the corpse, watching the cloud of blood disperse as the tide advanced. Ibrahim here? His presence seemed to be impossible. All the worlds were crumbling now – Tiderace, the Pyramid, the desert – and now the Brotherhood.

  ‘He’d been sent to kill you,’ said Ibrahim. He was very calm, as courteous as before but somehow rather fatherly and protective. How many more parts can he play, wondered Hugo.

  ‘How did he know where we were?’

  ‘He only had to read the papers. You rather caught the headlines. He’d had you under surveillance for a couple of days. When you set out for the island he chartered a boat and came in from the eastern side.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘I saw him go.’

  ‘So you’d been watching him watching us.’

  ‘I’m here to protect you both. To tell you we are ready.’

  ‘Ready for what?’ Hugo felt a stab of fear. He tried to take a grip on himself; at least Ibrahim was an earthly representative.

  ‘To guide you to the pyramid,’ Ibrahim was saying. ‘I’m satisfied about your identity now – and there’s really no point in delaying any further.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us before?’ Philippa demanded.

  ‘Because I wasn’t sure what you knew – and what you’d seen. None of us were. We couldn’t be absolutely certain you were the two people we’d been waiting for.’

  ‘How many of you are there?’ asked Hugo.

  ‘A few. As you must appreciate, the Atlanteans are regarded by us as a sacred trust. They are part of Islam. They have wanted to leave for a long time now – and we are anxious to help them.’ He paused. ‘But we can do nothing without you.’

  Hugo was not prepared to admit anything. Not yet. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s absolute madness – ‘

  ‘No, Mr Fitzroy. It is not madness. We are sure now that you are both reincarnates – light walkers. You would not have come here if you weren’t. This was the source, wasn’t it? The island was the beginning of recognition. But let me prove it to you. Your son did not take his own life – he was assassinated by Iraqi Intelligence, just as you would have been had I not protected you.’ Hugo tried to speak but Ibrahim had already turned away.

  They followed him to the top of the cliffs, Ibrahim walking a few yards ahead. No one spoke as the seabirds wheeled around them and Hugo felt a gathering sense of completeness. The turf was short and springy beneath his feet and he kept recognizing little memories of Brent when he was a child – memories which so far had eluded him. Then, as they emerged from the rock shadow, the image of the pyramid glowed in hard sunlight, etched into a background of brilliant blue sky. There were no clouds, not the breath of a breeze; the perfect geometric image.

  *

  As they stood there, Philippa began to shake and Hugo tried to take her in his arms, but she gently pushed him away.

  ‘It’s so beautiful,’ she said. ‘So utterly benign.’

  ‘Yes,’ Ibrahim agreed. ‘It is. But you have to remember the Atlanteans are desperate. They believe in no one – neither you nor the Iraqis.’ He turned to Hugo. ‘You don’t doubt me now, do you?’

  Hugo didn’t know what to reply. Should he still have doubts? The immensity of it all almost ov
erwhelmed him.

  ‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘We are who you hope we are. And we were shown the pyramid.’

  ‘How did the Iraqis find out about the Atlanteans?’ Hugo asked, relieved to have another confidant at last.

  ‘As you can understand, the secret of their existence was very closely guarded, but regrettably the Brotherhood was infiltrated by the Iraqis.’

  ‘For how long?’

  ‘A year. Perhaps longer.’

  ‘Will the Atlanteans give Iraq this nerve gas formula?’

  ‘They will agree to do so if you don’t arrive soon – and obviously if you are not successful. Then only Allah can help the Kurds, the Marsh Arabs, the Israelis.’

  ‘Can’t the Brotherhood intervene?’

  ‘What could they do? I am sure you understand you must travel to the pyramid at once.’

  ‘Where is it?’ asked Philippa.

  ‘Egypt.’

  ‘And how can we possibly trust you?’ Hugo was shaken by another wave of doubt.

  Ibrahim gazed up at the image of the pyramid. ‘Would that appear if I was your enemy?’

  But neither Hugo nor Philippa could be sure.

  ‘I can guarantee you’ll be given protection.’

  ‘I don’t see we have any choice,’ said Philippa.

  ‘You must come with me now.’

  ‘We need some time here together first. We must talk this over alone.’

  ‘I can give you half an hour.’ Ibrahim was brusque. ‘I’ll respect your privacy, but I shan’t be far away. You must learn to trust me, both of you.’

  ‘That’ll take some time.’

  ‘Don’t let it take too long.’ Tarik Ibrahim walked slowly away until he was lost to sight on the steep path. The edges of the pyramid became blurred and gradually began to fade.

  ‘Hold me.’ Hugo took Philippa’s hand. ‘Hold me tightly. I want to feel our strength. We’re going to need so much of it.’

  But all he could actually feel was her swollen stomach.

  They lay on the hard, flinty ground, wrapped in each other’s arms, while the sun seemed to become as searingly hot as it had been in the desert.