The Black Tower: The Complete Series

by David R. Beshears

  “Will we be coming back to base camp each night?” asked Asher.

  “Each--?” Elizabeth Owen looked from Asher to Quinn. “Surely you don’t expect it to take that long to find the second floor?”

  “It could, ma’am.”

  “Or…” Asher calmly urged, “we would have people on the second floor by now.”

  Quinn slowly nodded in agreement before continuing. “Each floor’s base camp will serve as the one permanent location that you can count on. If we become separated, you return to base.”

  He indicated a row of olive-drab knapsacks that were lined up along one wall.

  “We’ve prepared a small backpack for each of you containing basic supplies. There should be enough room remaining to accommodate what additional personal gear and equipment you may have brought with you.”

  “No, not nearly enough,” said Owen. She could see that the pack was already nearly full.

  “You were advised to bring in only what you considered absolutely necessary.”

  “I did.”

  “Yes, well, I am very sorry, but you may have to leave one or two things behind. Given the opportunity, once on the next floor, we’ll return to the landing, retrieve what we can.”

  §

  Corporal Ramos led Carmody and Raso along the main trail. It was just wide enough for them to travel without having to push brush aside.

  “More of ‘em,” said Raso. “How many lab coats we gotta babysit on this op?”

  “As many as they send in,” said Carmody. “What’s your problem?”

  “Doesn’t feel right.”

  Carmody smirked. “Of course it doesn’t feel right. It’s alien. It’s gonna feel alien.”

  “I don’t like it. I don’t like any of it.”

  Ramos spoke over his shoulder without looking back. “It’s not our place to like or not like it. Not the situation, or the civilians.” He stopped then, having arrived at their first watch post. He turned stiffly about. “It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. I do my job, you do your job.”

  Raso frowned and grumbled under his breath.

  “We do our job,” said Ramos. He pointed sharply at a spot alongside the trail. “Plant it.”

  Raso took a long step and straightened.

  “Plant it… oh, that’s funny.” He grimaced at Carmody. “Isn’t it? I mean—” he indicated the vegetation around them. “Ya know…”

  “No,” she answered. “Not so much.”

  Raso called out to the retreating corporal. “Hey, what’re we supposed to do if we see something? Throw a stick at it?”

  Ramos spoke over his shoulder.

  “Cry like a little girl. I’ll hear ya’ and come running.” Ramos did feel a bit naked without a big, bad gun, but he wasn’t going to let on to these guys. Firearms were useless in here, so they would have to make do. Deal with it.

  §

  To all appearances, it looked like dusk out on the floor. The reddish tint had turned to gray. Asher and Owen sat on the edge of the landing, feet hanging over the lip.

  Animal sounds came from somewhere in the distance, crow-like yet more predatory, more menacing.

  Asher could see Sgt. Costa standing watch along the left side trail. Looking directly ahead toward the main trail, he saw Lee Raso. The young private looked restless. He looked up toward the landing, in Asher’s direction. He lifted a hand wiggled his fingers jovially.

  Asher smiled good-naturedly, waved back. He continued watching the man as he spoke to Owen.

  “According to Quinn, this is about as dark as it gets.” He glanced up at the ceiling, which had now taken on the appearance of an early evening sky. “It lasts about eight hours, then daylight… or… whatever. The full cycle is about twenty four hours.”

  “Hmm.”

  “That might mean something.”

  “The man is a Neanderthal.”

  “Oh, Elizabeth,” Asher smiled. “You’ve dealt with a lot worse.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Quinn’s a pussycat.”

  “Well,” she said, grudgingly. “Perhaps.”

  The animal sounds, which had been distant and very much in the background, were suddenly very near. Down below, Lee Raso was at full alert.

  Asher spoke as calmly as he could. “The recon teams reported finding no animal life.”

  “They were mistaken.”

  “Apparently.”

  The world calmed, grew quiet again. Down below, it took Lee Raso a few more seconds to let the tension subside. Over at the side trail, Sgt. Costa seemed unconcerned, her focus on being ready in case the away team needed help.

  Hearing the sound of metal plates and spoons clattering together, Asher looked back over his shoulder. Elizabeth’s assistants were near the back of the landing.

  He remembered the young man’s name then.

  “I’d have thought Ray would be out on his own by now.”

  “My magnetic personality,” said Owen, not bothering to turn around. If something made an appearance out on the floor, she didn’t want to miss it.

  Asher gave a polite chuckle. “I can see that. Really.” He turned back around. “He’s been with you… ten years? The Janus Project?”

  “Don’t recall,” she stated flatly. “He’s doing all right for himself.”

  “I know you manage to get the plum projects, but I’m surprised that’s enough for him. Let’s be honest, Liz… working in your professional shadow can’t be easy.”

  “As you said, I do find the little gems that keep us all interested.”

  Asher accepted that. He gave a nod back over his shoulder. “What about her?”

  “Lisa is bright enough, or I wouldn’t keep her around. And she frees Ray from some of the more mundane tasks.”

  “Which in turn helps keep him around,” said Asher. “How long will she be willing to do the grunt work?”

  “That is what research assistants are for, Peter. It’s what they do.”

  Ray Do came up to them carrying a plate of food. He handed it to Owen.

  “Your dinner, Doctor,” he said.

  Owen gave Asher a conspiratorial grin and took the plate.

  “Why thank you, Ray,” she said, oozing sweetness. “So kind of you.”

  Ray wasn’t quite able to completely hide his surprise, turned quickly to Asher.

  “Would you like me to bring you something, Professor?”

  Asher groaned loudly as he slowly climbed to his feet. “No… thank you, Ray. That’s quite all right. I think I’ll burn the two or three calories that it takes to fetch it for myself.

  §

  Susan Bautista led the way along the trail through the vegetation, Church and Banister following closely behind. She had the machete in hand, had to use it occasionally to clear the path. Alien, crow-like sounds pushed in from the vegetation.

  One of the vines suddenly reached out to Susan. She hacked at it with the machete and the vine pulled back, screeching.

  Banister placed a hand on Church’s shoulder.

  Church pushed it away in irritation. “Stop babying me, Banister.”

  “Well then keep up, you old fart.”

  The trail ended abruptly.

  Susan stopped in her tracks, Church and Banister came up short behind her.

  Susan looked back over her shoulder at them. “But… this is the trail. This is the main trail.”

  “Yes, my dear,” said Banister. “It should have taken us all the way to the landing.”

  Church nodded irritably. “Yes, yes. It may well have been the main trail earlier, but now they have closed it off.” He growled under his breath. “We’ll just have to hack our way through.”

  “With no trail?” asked Banister.

  “We have to.”

  “What about finding another way?”

  “Oh, come on, Wes,” Church said impatiently. “If they’re blocking our path here, do you think they’ll leave a way open somewhere else?”

  “It’s bad eno
ugh traveling an open trail. I dread the thought of tromping through the brush.”

  “Same here,” said Susan.

  “Yes, well,” Church sighed. “We are all in total agreement on that point. However,” he looked anxiously about them. “I for one do not intend to stay here to await their pleasure.”

  Banister took a few moments before offering grudging agreement.

  “There really is no choice, is there?”

  Church gave a curt nod and turned to Susan. “Susan? If you please?”

  In answer, Susan Bautista turned and lifted up her machete, brought it down decisively and sliced through the alien vines.

  The animal sounds grew suddenly very loud.

  Episode One / Chapter Two

  Asher and Owen stood at the edge of the landing, from where they could watch as Sgt. Costa led Susan Bautista up from the overgrown left trail. Church and Banister were stumbling along right behind.

  Lt. Quinn scrambled down from the landing to the floor, hurrying to help… and to find out why Captain Carver wasn’t with them.

  From the main trail came Raso, Carmody and Corporal Ramos.

  As they came up nearer the landing, Asher could hear Susan speaking low to Costa, repeating herself and shaking her head from side to side. “Turned around somehow.”

  Once on the landing, Susan, Banister and Church were guided to a row of boxes serving double-duty as a bench. Someone shoved coffee cups into their hands as everyone gathered around to hear what had happened; all but Corporal Ramos, who hurried over to the radio to let those in the command center outside know that the team had returned, minus the captain.

  The two elder scientists told of an attack by the very plants that made up the forests, of vines reaching in and twisting themselves about them, tightening themselves around their torsos and arms and legs.

  And of strange dark shadows that flew about the clearing in which they fought.

  Church set his coffee cup down on the ground between his feet, looked up at Lt. Quinn.

  “I have no intention of letting Captain Carver’s sacrifice go for naught,” he stated flatly. “I’m going back out in the morning.”

  “That is not your decision to make, Doctor Church,” said Quinn.

  Church glanced in Ramos’ direction. The corporal was speaking into the radio.

  “General Wong understands the importance of this project,” he said. “And the urgency.”

  “We all do, Doctor. You must also understand the importance of being properly prepared to take on this mission.” At a signal from Ramos, Lt. Quinn excused himself and went to the radio.

  Church turned to the others in the group, most of whom had arrived in the tower during the recent foray onto the floor. He acknowledged Professor Asher.

  “Asher, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “Hello, Doctor Church.”

  Church indicated Banister. “That’s my sidekick. Wes Banister. Nice enough fella, I guess.”

  Banister gave Asher a tired wave. Church then gave Elizabeth Owen a smile.

  “It’s been a while, Liz. How have you been?”

  “Have I ever been less than magnificent?”

  “Not that I can recall.”

  Owen took a step closer and sat beside Church. “Nate, tell me true. What are we facing out there?”

  Banister snickered, and Church smiled thinly, looked at the group as a whole.

  “On that subject,” Church sighed, “There is a bit of disagreement.”

  “A bit,” grumbled Banister.

  Church slowly shook his head. “And as of now, I have to admit that I just don’t know.”

  “Whoa…” Banister straightened. “Someone get my diary.”

  Church ignored his partner in crime. “There are entities out there. Shadows… with a physical presence.”

  Banister cut in. “The vegetation itself seems to exist with a purpose, whether its own, or that of some controlling force…” His words trailed off.

  “The Adversary,” Asher stated.

  “That would appear to be the case,” Church shrugged. “Or… it may all be the Adversary. Not controlled by, but actually be this… being.”

  Banister stared down into his half-empty coffee cup. “Whether of its own accord, or at the specific direction of this entity, the vegetation is at the very least acting at the behest of the Adversary.”

  “And these shadows?” asked Owen.

  “I have no doubt they are creatures of the Adversary.”

  “Or,” Church urged, “are manifestations of this being. As the vegetation itself may well be.”

  Asher was struggling with the whole idea. He scratched at an imaginary itch in his scalp. “But, either way, why bother going through all this—” he indicated the floor beyond the landing, “all this, just to kill a few helpless individuals?”

  “I don’t believe the intent is to kill us,” said Banister.

  “Could he be trying to prevent us from getting to top the floor?” Asher had been given to understand that this ‘Adversary’ had specifically directed them to go to the top floor. “I was told that he asked us to come.”

  Church agreed. “He was very insistent about it.”

  “This is a test,” Banister said sharply.

  Church waved a dismissive hand at Banister, but said nothing.

  “For what purpose, I cannot fathom,” Banister went on. “But we are very definitely being tested.”

  “Melodramatic anthropomorphizing of an extraterrestrial whose thought processes we cannot begin to understand.”

  Banister struggled to not look flustered, attempted to put himself into a lecturing mode.

  “A being arrives in our midst in the most dramatic fashion and asks that we meet with it, and yet insists that we first traverse a series of obstacles before we are allowed an audience. Sir… we can safely postulate that we are being tested.”

  Church looked thoughtfully at his partner for several very long seconds, the others in the group looking on as silent observers.

  Church finally, grudgingly, nodded in agreement. “Very well,” he said softly. “As sensationalistic as you insist on making what should be a straightforward presentation, I will –concede- to your argument.”

  “I am humbled.”

  “As you should be.”

  Banister snorted. “It is also quite evident that this individual, by stating its name as ‘Adversary’, is intentionally establishing a confrontational tone to this test.”

  “This being is an alien,” said Church. “The thought processes behind these requests are alien. Therefore, the reasoning behind the requests cannot be accurately determined.”

  Just when that was starting to sink in, everyone’s attention shifted to Lt. Quinn as he returned from the radio.

  “Okay, folks,” he said firmly. “I suggest that you get what rest you can. We have a go for the expedition, despite recent events. We move out at true dawn.”

  §

  Banister approached the landing’s edge, half lost in thought. The world beyond the landing held what this bizarre landscape took for predawn. The night was never fully dark, the day never fully clear.

  At hearing Asher’s approach from behind him, he spoke without turning from the view. “Professor Asher… trouble sleeping?”

  There was a flicker of reddish light across what should have been the east wall of the first floor.

  “I’ve never needed much sleep,” said Asher. “Not sure if that’s a blessing or a curse.”

  “Savor every minute of your waking hours, my dear Professor. When you reach my age, you will come to realize they are the only things of any real value.”

  “I’m not so sure about that, Doctor Banister.”

  Banister raised a brow and looked askance at Asher, but said nothing. Asher grinned apologetically.

  “Please, don’t get me wrong,” he said. “I do place a high value on what time I have in this life. But none of it would mean much without what I believe to be the one item of
real worth.”

  “Oh? And what would that be, my young friend?”

  “The pursuit of knowledge.”

  “Ah, yes… I have heard of your idealism.”

  “Idealism be damned. The thought of reaching the end of my life and realizing much too late that I had squandered what years I had been given… that is downright terrifying.”

  Banister nodded approvingly, spoke as if offering a toast.

  “May you have many hours of life yet before you, Professor, all of which to be dedicated to seeking out wondrous truths and the discovery of great and profound knowledge.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Asher’s brow wrinkled. “I think.”

  They stood in silence for a few moments. From behind them came the soft sounds of people sleeping: steady breathing, shifting and turning bodies, and someone’s light snoring.

  From the floor came the hint of a breeze, its source unknown.

  “And what of you and Doctor Church?” asked Asher. “Haven’t you spent your lives seeking knowledge?”

  “Knowledge be damned, sir. We seek fun.”

  “Ah… fun. I believe I’ve heard of it.”

  “The secret to our success is our dogged desire to enjoy whatever it is that we are doing at the moment. If we are bored, or if whatever we are working on just doesn’t do it for us anymore, we drop it and find something else, something that keeps the life in our lives.”

  Asher indicated the scene before them. “I would say that you have certainly found that here.”

  “If we survive it,” agreed Banister. “But that just adds a little kick and spice to the project, eh?”

  “Is that where the fun comes in?”

  Banister gave a noncommittal shrug, and after a few moments grew more thoughtful. “So, where were you when we plucked you out of your earthly existence and dropped you in here?”

  “A little college in New Mexico. Research mostly, and doing a little teaching.” He gave Banister a side-glance and subtle smile. “But you must know that. You did select the members of this expedition.”

  Banister gave a shrewd grin in return. “I may know a little of your background. And yes, I’ve read a few of your published papers.” There was a polite pause, then. “I liked the voice that I heard calling out to me from behind the printed word.”