Behind them, the sounds of sleep slowly morphed to the subtle sounds of waking. Banister gave a glance back over his shoulder, turned again to the floor covered in alien jungle. “Our fellow travelers awaken,” Banister said with a hint of resignation. “I believe it is time to get ready.”
§
The group marched slowly along the same trail that Banister, Church and Susan Bautista had traveled the day before. Each had an olive-drab backpack, several of them overstuffed, particularly those on the backs of Lt. Owen’s assistants.
The military contingent led the way, with Carmody and Raso out in front, Lt. Quinn a few yards behind them.
An uneasy, eerie quiet lay over the group. Even Church and Banister’s bantering had fallen to silence. What sounds there were seemed muffled.
Carmody and Raso reached a fork in the trail and stopped. Lt. Quinn looked questioningly back at Church, who looked about them uncertainly before turning to Susan.
Susan nodded to the left fork, looked about again, nodded again to the left. She finally shrugged, waved a hand to the left.
Good enough, thought Lt. Quinn, who turned back to Carmody and Raso, pointed to the left fork. Civilians. Gotta love ‘em.
Two hours later they came into the clearing where they had left the body of Captain Carver. The body wasn’t there.
Susan moved well into the clearing, noted the disturbed ground from the earlier conflict, and the spot where she had worked on Dr. Church’s injury. She saw the few traces of blood where the body of Captain Carver had lain.
She gave the lieutenant an affirmative nod. Lt. Quinn in turn gave Carmody and Raso a silent order and they moved quickly to stand at two of the four trailheads.
Sgt. Costa and Cpl. Ramos came into the clearing behind the rest of the group. At seeing the situation, Costa pointed to the far trailhead and Ramos moved to position, leaving Costa to remain at the trailhead where they had entered.
“But why take the body?” asked Asher.
“Why any of this, Professor?” Lt. Quinn was at a loss.
Church and Banister joined them as Elizabeth Owen found a place to rest, her assistants beside her. Church spoke as he watched Susan kneel down near where Captain Carver’s body had been.
“This is most definitely where—”
“Yes,” stated Banister.
Asher shifted uncomfortably. “I would as soon not stay here.”
“Yes,” Banister repeated. He gave Church an inquisitive glance before indicating the far trailhead. “That way, wasn’t it, Nate?” he asked.
“I believe so.”
“That way, what?” asked Asher.
Church appeared embarrassed to bring it up, and Lt. Quinn finally answered.
“The captain thought he saw something,” he said, looked to the elder scientists for verification. “Perhaps a ladder.”
“Only for a moment, then it was gone,” said Church. “Several hundred yards distant. I’m afraid no one else saw it.”
“But something was there,” said Banister.
“Yes,” sighed Church. “The captain said that he saw two ladder rungs hanging in the open air. We looked for it, but it never reappeared.”
Real or illusion, thought Asher. As if either has any meaning in here…
After a long, uncomfortable silence, Lt. Quinn indicated the trailhead that Church had pointed out. “Shall we?”
§
An empty trail winding its way through the alien forest…
The sound of muted voices in the distance.
The vines on either side of the trail trembled. Tendrils began to move. The vines began to slide.
Slowly at first, then in a sudden flash, the vegetation rushed in from either side.
The trail was closed.
Carmody and Raso came into view. They stopped. They turned to face the rest of the group as it closed in on them.
“Oh, great,” said Elizabeth Owen.
“Everyone stay alert,” said Lt. Quinn. This didn’t feel right. He pointed sharply at Raso. “Keep an eye forward.”
He studied their immediate surroundings. The trail here was fairly wide right up to where it no longer existed. Behind them, the trail wound around a sharp bend. Sgt. Costa brought up the rear, stood alert there at the bend.
He made eye contact with her. She gave a curt nod, half turned so as to watch the path they had just taken while still able to keep an eye on the group, some of whom had already begun to settle in for what looked to be a break.
Asher stepped over to stand beside Susan and Church.
“Did we make a wrong turn somewhere?”
Susan gave an uncertain shrug.
Church grumbled. “It is possible, of course. It all looks familiar, but things change out here.”
“I’m fairly certain this is the path we took,” said Susan. “I could be wrong. A forest trail is… a forest trail.”
Church’s comment from a moment ago finally registered with Asher.
“Closing one path, opening another? Are we being led somewhere?”
“If so, I see no pattern, no design or direction.”
Lt. Quinn turned to face them, focused on Church. “This has the smell of a trap more than a guiding hand, Doctor.”
“Perhaps. But again, to what purpose?”
Banister spoke from his seated spot nearby. “This is the Adversary’s game, Nate. We have yet to puzzle out the rules.”
Church had to agree, if only silently.
Lt. Quinn took the comment to where it led. “We’ve already lost the captain to whatever is out here, Doctor Banister. Or whatever it is that controls whatever it is that is out here. If we can’t figure out these rules, I doubt very much that it will stop with Captain Carver.”
“Quite,” Banister said crisply.
“What do you suggest we do, Lieutenant?” asked Asher.
Yes, thought Quinn. What do we do?
He looked to Church. “You certain this is the right path?”
“Not absolutely certain, no.” Church stood under Lt. Quinn’s sharp gaze. “I agree with Susan. I believe this is the same path.”
Decision time.
“Carmody! Raso!”
They turned to look at their lieutenant.
“Double back and see what you can find,” he told them. “Back in twenty.”
They dropped their backpacks, left their positions and started back through the group. Sgt. Costa waved a hand to Ramos to move forward and stand watch in place of Raso.
Lt. Quinn turned to the rest of the group. “Take twenty, but stay alert.”
Susan found a small hillock to sit on. She dropped her pack to the ground, sat down, elbows on knees, hands clasped.
Asher followed her over, stood above her. “Doctor Bautista… mind if I join you?”
Susan indicated the empty spot beside her.
“Take a load off, Professor,” she said. “Call me Susan.”
Asher dropped down beside her. “Peter.”
“Hello, Peter.”
“Hello, Susan,” Peter answered. “How are you holding up?”
She gave a halfhearted shrug and a faint smile.
“I’ve been involved in all this since the day this tower first appeared.” A second halfhearted shrug. “But you… you must still be at the overwhelmed stage.”
“That is an understatement.”
“Hmm,” she slowly nodded. “Yes. I know the feeling.”
Across from them and a few yards further down the trail, Elizabeth Owen was grumbling under her breath. Ray Do was trying to comfort her as Lisa Powell watched with a hint of indifference.
Asher felt an odd sense of intrusion and turned his gaze away. Susan was looking in their direction as well, but wasn’t really looking at them.
“You know,” she began after a long pause, “back when Doctor Church was first trying to put a team together, somehow your name kept coming up.”
“So I’m told,” said Asher. “Not sure why. I’m not as engaging a
s all that.”
“False modesty, Professor?”
“Not at all. My career has been very focused. I’m an anthropologist, and not much else.”
“Anthropology has many subsets, and you seem to be involved in all of them.”
Asher gave a humble shrug. “And you?” he asked.
“Not much to say. I’ve been with Dr. Banister a long time. What career I have, I owe to him.”
“False modesty?”
“Not at all,” she answered precisely. “I’m afraid I don’t do very well with people. This personality quirk can have quite an unpleasant effect on one’s career. Then I met Doctor Banister. He saw something in me, was willing to overlook my, um… social handicap?”
“You’re doing fine right now.”
“Give it time,” Susan sighed. “It shouldn’t take more than…”
Susan’s sentence faded as she shifted slowly about to listen to something.
“What is it?” asked Asher.
“D’you hear that?”
Asher listened a moment, then shook his head. He turned fully around, listened more intently.
Slithering , rustling, scratching…
Barely audible at first, the sounds rose slowly up to where everyone could hear.
Suddenly, explosively, branches and vines rushed into the clearing from both sides of the trail, striking at the group, wrapping around them.
As suddenly then… several small shadows came out of the brush, hovered a moment, then quickly clambered on first one then another of the group, jumping from person to person, making it all the more difficult for the humans to free themselves from the vines. Each shadow was about eighteen inches in diameter, and changed shape as it moved.
Lt. Quinn managed to free himself and hurried over to help Banister, who was almost completely hidden beneath the shifting vegetation. He pulled steadily at the vines, had to fend off a thin branch that slapped ceaselessly at him as he worked.
He looked over at Sgt. Costa and Ramos, who both appeared about to free themselves.
“Get the others!” he called out. “Move them out now!”
Costa scrambled over to help Susan free Doctor Church. The two of them helped him to his feet and stumbled toward the head of the clearing, in the direction where the path should have been, had it still existed.
Lt. Quinn helped Banister to his feet, started toward the others.
“Do it!” he called out.
Sgt. Costa lifted up the machete and brought it down.
The vegetation screamed.
Episode One / Chapter Three
The Quonset hut was small enough that its curved, corrugated sheeting seemed to hover over those inside. The interior was cluttered with desks in the middle of the room, wooden tables along the walls.
Corporal Johansen, the young communications operator, sat before the table on which sat the aging olive drab radio. General Wong and his adjutant Captain Adamson stood behind the young soldier. The General had the radio receiver to his ear.
“Of course, Doctor Church,” said the General, speaking into the mouthpiece. “Yes. Success is vital. But it will not come if the team isn’t around to meet the challenge.”
General Wong was an Asian man in sixties with short, salt-and-pepper hair. He was stout in stature, had broad shoulders, and a tough, grizzly gaze.
He stared at his adjutant as he listened to Doctor Church. Adamson was in his early forties, tall, slender yet strong, with a sure manner and crisp dress.
“Yes, yes,” General Wong continued. “Absolutely. As I have already said to Lieutenant Quinn.” He listened again, glanced at Captain Adamson again before letting his gaze drift to an empty space somewhere above the radio.
“I’m afraid Doctor Lake isn’t here at the moment,” he said.
As if on cue, Doctor Lake came into the command center, clearly agitated, with SSG Miller right behind him.
He approached General Wong, politely but curtly waving one hand for the phone. The middle-aged scientist was prim-and-proper in both manner and attire.
“Ah,” said General Wong. “Doctor Church? Doctor Lake is here now. He just stepped in.” He stepped aside and handed Doctor Lake the receiver.
“Church? This is Lake.”
General Wong moved away from the radio, waited for Miller to follow him.
“What is it, Sergeant?”
“General… the door is gone.”
General Wong gave the sergeant a long, reflective look.
“Say again,” he stated flatly.
“The door into the structure is no longer there,” said Miller. “Sir.”
Over at the radio, Doctor Lake was telling Church that they were on their own.
General Wong looked carefully at the sergeant. After some brief internal evaluation, he looked over at his adjutant, who, as if on orders, moved to the radio and took the receiver from Doctor Lake.
“This is Adamson,” he said. “Put Lieutenant Quinn on.”
§
Lt. Quinn was speaking on the radio, Corporal Ramos standing beside him. Across the clearing, Dr. Church was mumbling animatedly to Asher, Banister and Elizabeth Owen. Further down the trail, Ray Do was examining a minor head wound on Lisa Powell, Sgt. Costa standing watch.
“I understand, General,” said Quinn. “Yes, sir.” He handed the receiver to Ramos and stepped away from the radio. “I need everyone to gather ‘round,” he urged. Some looked his way, several started moving slowly toward him. “Please. Everyone.”
He caught Sgt. Costa’s attention. She gave a curt nod in response, remained on watch.
“Well, you’ve all heard,” he said to the group. “We’re here to stay, at least until we get to the top floor and accomplish our mission.”
There was an undercurrent of mumbling from the group, and Quinn patiently waited for it to die down before continuing.
“Because of the current situation, it is all the more critical that General Wong and his staff be kept up-to-date on our status, and fully informed of any findings.”
“And if we lose communication?” Owen asked snidely. “As our host apparently does not want us to leave, he may not want us communicating with the outside world at all.”
“A concern of the General as well, Doctor Owen,” said Quinn. “However, so long as we do have communications, each team has been directed to make regular reports. I will be reporting to Captain Adamson every eight hours. Doctor Church and his scientific team have been asked to contact Doctor Lake daily.”
“Of course,” Church acknowledged.
Quinn turned to Elizabeth Owen. “Doctor Owen, your research team is also being directed to provide daily reports to our science advisor.” To Asher, then, “As have you, Professor.”
Asher gave Quinn a silent acknowledgement, after which Quinn turned to the group as a whole.
“For the moment,” he went on, “Make yourselves comfortable. Our missing team members can’t be far off.”
Owen gave him a dismissive look. “And just what would make you think that?”
§
Carmody and Raso entered a large clearing and stopped. The only exit was the way they had come in.
Off to their left, above and beyond the vegetation, was the occasional flickering of the wall. The ceiling overhead shimmered, just barely maintaining its illusion of sky.
“Another dead end,” said Raso.
They both turned sharply at the sound of rustling brush behind them.
Their only way out had vanished. The vegetation had closed it off.
“Like I said,” said Raso. Dead end.
As they turned back around, a tall shadow materialized in the center of the clearing directly in front of them, forming out of a slowly thickening, inky mist. After several seconds, it took on the size and shape of a human form, hidden in black, flowing shadow.
Adversary.
It remained little more than a flowing shadow; vaguely human form, about six feet tall.
Carmody and Raso e
ach took a step back, but there was nowhere for them to go.
Small, black shadowy figures began appearing all about the clearing, each just under two feet tall. Their miniaturized human forms altered shaped as they moved, as black amoebas might, returning to a recognizable form only when they weren’t in motion.
The figure of the Adversary remained unmoving, yet its form never stopped taking shape. It was as if the black of space was in fact made of flowing, smoky robes shifting in a slight breeze.
“I am… your host,” it said. Its voice was smooth, gentle.
Carmody and Raso looked briefly at each other. Neither responded. Carmody looked cautiously at the dozen or so dark shadows that shifted around them.
“I look forward to welcoming you and your companions more formally once you reach the Main Hall.” Adversary slowly and smoothly raised a hand, pointing upward with an extremely long, thin finger.
Carmody watched the arm lift up and then slowly lower, finally disappearing back into the flowing, smoky darkness.
“You should be speaking to the lieutenant,” she said. “Or to the scientists. I’m just a soldier.”
“What would be learned from that?”
Carmody and Raso looked at each other in confusion.
“I don’t understand,” Carmody said at last.
The shadow of the Adversary shifted and flowed, softened and flowed.
“Quite all right,” it said.
Carmody and Raso instinctively moved apart, turning slightly. There was a strange, hollow airy sound, as if the Adversary was taking in a breath. Its black shape seemed to take on a more solid form, held it for several seconds, then returned to its more ethereal existence.
It lifted its arms out and away from its robes, looked studiously at its hands, at its extraordinarily long fingers. It rolled the fingers, and as it did the vegetation that surrounded the clearing rolled in a gentle wave.
“One of you will end existence here,” it stated, very matter-of-factly.
“Now that I understand,” said Raso. He took another step further from Carmody, ensuring two targets instead of one.
Carmody stood unmoving. “And what would be learned from that?” she asked.
“Much,” Adversary said silkily.
The shadow entities dashed in and about the surrounding vegetation. The vegetation itself shuddered.
The Black Tower: The Complete Series Page 3