The Black Tower: The Complete Series

by David R. Beshears

  She shifted position on the cut wood; she realized then that she was feeling a slight push in one direction, as if the train was traveling a curve.

  Looking outward, it was impossible to tell. All about them, in every direction, there was only the black.

  She focused her attention forward, staring directly ahead of the engine, then slowly lifting up her gaze, if there was such a thing as up in this place.

  She saw nothing at first. But then, after some time, she thought… just maybe…

  Was that a light up ahead? Far ahead, forward and just slightly to the left; a dull, fuzzy glow.

  She studied it. It faded in and out, but it was definitely there. It was still very far off, but it was drawing nearer.

  They were heading right for it.

  She glanced back down at the engineer.

  He had ceased his labors. He stood there, looking up at her. And there it was… that knowing, demonic grin.

  §

  With the exception of Lt. Quinn and Sgt. Costa, everyone had found their way into the dining car, were sitting at three of the tables in the middle of the car. Their conversations moved quickly from one table to the next, from one subject to the next.

  The coffee had run out long ago, but that didn’t seem to matter. There had been some mention a while back of making more, but the empty coffee pots sat untended.

  Quinn came hurrying into the car. Banister welcomed him, offered him a spot at the table. Corporal Ramos looked to him for possible orders.

  Quinn ignored them both. He stood stiffly in the aisle, put a palm down on one of the tables for balance.

  “Everyone, can I have your attention?” he started. He waited for some semblance of silence. “Thank you,” he continued. “Folks, I really hate to break this up but, well… I think this is our stop.”

  Episode Five / Chapter Three

  The train eased slowly into the train station. It was little more than a small building with a wide wooden platform bordering the tracks and running the length of the station. Pole lamps stood at each end of the platform and gave off a dull, golden glow that did little to push back the surrounding dark. Another lamp hung on the wall next to an opening that served as the one gate access leading from the station’s interior.

  Quinn hopped down onto the platform just as the train came to a full stop, looking about for immediate threats. But for the sound of the engine settling down after its run, it was very quiet.

  Church and Banister followed him out a few moments later. Ramos came out of the train from the forward platform of the dining car carrying the radio equipment, and Carmody and Asher began unloading the team’s backpacks and other gear from the passenger car. They had no way of knowing whether the train was going to stay or leave, so thought it best to keep their equipment with them.

  Quinn wished they had inventoried the baggage car earlier. If the train left without them, they would lose whatever was in the packages and crates. The same was true for the food supplies in the kitchen car.

  Costa dropped down from the tender car and started toward Quinn. He noted that she was doing a careful study of their surroundings as she approached.

  “What of our engineer, Sergeant?” he asked her.

  “He’s doing a visual inspection of the locomotive, sir.” Costa stood beside the lieutenant. “You know, a walk-around of the engine, checking it all out, looking for damage and whatnot.”

  “This whole thing is weird, weird, and still more weird,” said Owen.

  “That about sums it up, Doctor Owen,” said Quinn. He turned back to Costa. “Does it look like he plans on sticking around for awhile?”

  “No way to tell. He could hop back in as soon as he finishes his inspection and take off.”

  “We need those food supplies,” said Church.

  “Yes we do,” said Quinn. “I’ll leave that to you and Doctor Banister.”

  “Of course.” Church and Banister turned back to the metal steps and climbed up into the train.

  Quinn called after them. “If the train leaves, don’t you be on it.”

  “Yes, yes.”

  Quinn turned then to Carmody. He told her to wait outside the kitchen car, and if it looked like the train was about to so much as budge, to pull them out. She gave him an affirmative nod and started off.

  “And the baggage car?” asked Professor Asher.

  “The baggage car,” mumbled Quinn. He looked at the group, all gathered now beside him on the platform but for Church and Banister, with Carmody in position outside the kitchen car.

  He wanted to get them all inside the station, everyone safely tucked in. He felt uncomfortable about splitting them up without knowing their situation. But those crates…

  “Sergeant Costa,” he said. “You and the professor. Go.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And what I told Doctor Church holds just as true for you. If the train starts moving, I want you off. Got it?”

  “Absolutely.” She looked at Asher, held out a beckoning arm. “Professor?”

  Quinn turned again to what remained of the group. He would make certain the station was safe before he let the civilians walk in. “Give me two minutes to make sure there are no surprises.” He signaled Ramos and the two of them went inside.

  The hardwood floor was faded and scratched, as if from years of foot traffic. Two rows of wooden benches took up most of the center of the room. To the right was a counter with one ticket window. The counter spanned the width of the narrow room. Set high on the wall behind the counter was a plastic message board with one line of plastic letters: “North 8:00AM”.

  The other side of the room, a wide hallway led to the rest of the small building.

  “Quiet enough, Lieutenant,” said Ramos. They were alone.

  Quinn indicated the hall with the nod of the head. Ramos started toward it as Quinn went across the room to what looked to be the front door of the station.

  §

  Costa squatted down beside one of the crates. “What do you think of these, Professor?” she asked, indicating the label.

  “They all have the same destination code.”

  “Whatever those letters are. No language I recognize.”

  “An inside joke of the Adversary’s, no doubt.” Asher began looking around for some tool to use to open up a crate. Meanwhile, Costa went to the shelf and grabbed a cardboard box. She was about to tear it open when she thought she heard a sound.

  “Do you hear that?”

  Asher listened. It came from outside the car… wheels rolling across the platform…

  Metal latches lifting and dropping, and the large side door slid open.

  Asher and Costa both stepped cautiously back, moved to the end of the baggage car. A figure jumped up into the car.

  He was a small man, barely five feet tall, dressed in coveralls and wearing a well-worn cap. He stood there a moment, in the center of the car, looked calmly at Asher and Costa.

  It was a demon face… like that of the engineer. It didn’t appear threatening, and didn’t appear at all concerned at seeing the two humans standing at the end of car.

  It turned about, set about to unload the crates and boxes and packages, handing them down one by one to a second demon that was standing on the platform outside the baggage car. This second demon stacked them carefully and neatly onto a flatbed four-wheeled cart.

  Costa held up the cardboard box she was still holding onto. She looked at the destination label. “I guess we are… wherever this is,” she whispered.

  §

  Lisa Powell opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. Quinn was standing at the rail, looking out into the black.

  “Everyone settling in?” asked Quinn.

  “I don’t know that I would call it settling, exactly,” said Lisa. “Corporal Ramos said it was safe to come in, so we came in.”

  “I see.” Quinn glanced back at the door, turned back to the scene beyond the porch. There was nothing to see, quite literally,
but it was better than staring awkwardly at Miss Powell.

  Lisa took a step closer to the rail and rested her hands on the banister.

  “It would be peaceful, if it wasn’t so ominous,” she said.

  Quinn found it peaceful in any event, but definitely got it; completely surrounded by an emptiness that threatened to swallow them up.

  Raised voices came from inside the station; some disagreement between Elizabeth Owen and Corporal Ramos. Quinn took it as an opportunity to shift the subject back to those inside.

  “Dr. Owen sounds to be settling in just fine,” he said.

  “Dr. Owen puts on a strong front,” said Lisa.

  “You know her better than I,” Quinn said doubtfully. After months together in the tower, he had yet to find anything weak about the woman.

  “Well, she would never let anyone know it, but she took what happened to Ray pretty hard,” said Lisa.

  “Really? I mean, I could see how much she relied on him—”

  “I know it didn’t show, but she felt very deeply for him, almost as a son.”

  “You’re right. It didn’t show.” He stiffened. He felt his skin grow warm. “I apologize. I’m very sorry. That was very rude.”

  “No,” Lisa grinned. “I understand.”

  “Yes… well…”

  “Neither would ever have admitted it, but Ray was much more than Doctor Owen’s assistant. He provided a strength that she depended on. His death left a hole that impacts everything she does, every decision she makes.”

  “She has you, Miss Powell. And she is lucky to have you.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” she said. “However, whatever my qualifications as Doctor Owen’s assistant, I would never attempt to fill the void created when Ray died. And she wouldn’t want me to.”

  “Yes. Well, as I said…”

  “Thank you.”

  “Yes…” he began fumbling with his clasped hands. He struggled to come up with something real to say, was relieved when the silence was finally broken by the sound of Dr. Owen giving Ramos another what-for.

  “Oh, dear,” said Lisa.

  “I believe duty calls,” said Quinn. He reached out for the door behind them. “Shall we?”

  They entered the station just as Church, Banister and Carmody came in from the platform carrying bundles and bags of food supplies. Over near the counter, Owen was pointing an angry finger at Ramos.

  “This isn’t over, Corporal,” she hissed, then stalked across the room. “Home, safe and sound,” she said, speaking in the general direction of Church and the others.

  Ramos started toward the hallway on the other side of the room. “This way, please, doctors. We can store that in the supply room.”

  “I’ll show them,” said Susan. She was just coming out of the hallway, turned and started back. They followed her, which left Ramos looking uncomfortably in Owen’s direction. He then noticed Quinn’s return, walked quickly over and began briefing the lieutenant on what he’d found in the rest of the station.

  There was a large supply closet, a pair of restrooms, a small break room and baggage storeroom.

  And that was it; all of it together not much larger than the size of this one main room.

  On the positive side, that meant a smaller area to search for the portal. On the negative, with such a small search area, shouldn’t they have already stumbled across it by now?

  Nonetheless, Quinn was certain the portal was here. As with the previous twelve floors, they would conduct a methodical search, find the portal and move on.

  Quinn looked across the room at Owen. “What was the problem between you and Dr. Owen?”

  “Nothing serious, sir,” said Ramos. “Some disagreement as to my duties.”

  Asher and Costa came into the station.

  “You are not going to believe this,” said Asher.

  Carmody burst in from the hallway. “Holy crap!” Something down the hall had definitely taken her by surprise.

  “Ah,” said Asher, a bit disappointed. “So you’ve met our friends.”

  §

  General Wong found Dr. Lake standing in the open lot midway between the command center and the tower. The man was staring off into space, not really looking at the tower; not really looking at anything.

  The sun had gone down, and the gray of dusk was growing steadily darker. The cool day was turning into a chilly evening and the doctor wasn’t wearing his jacket. He had to be getting cold.

  “Doctor Lake? Is everything all right?”

  Lake didn’t answer, didn’t even acknowledge the general’s arrival.

  “Doctor?”

  Dr. Lake stirred, mumbled then without turning. “Yes?”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “No. No, I don’t think so,” he answered softly.

  General Wong looked at the black tower, looked about at the surrounding lot, at the buildings far in the distance.

  “What is it?” he asked. The world was quiet. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, excepting the fact that there was an eighty storey windowless black building where there shouldn’t be an eighty storey windowless black building.

  Lake watched as a Jeep rounded the far corner of the tower. It followed the base of the tower, approached the nearer corner and finally disappeared around the side. He knew from past experience that the patrol would park at a bivouac consisting of a handful of command tents that were set up just out of sight around the side of the alien tower.

  “How many do you have on the watch, General? Thirty soldiers?”

  “About that,” answered General Wong. “A platoon.”

  “And you don’t find that odd?”

  “I’m not sure I know what you mean.” The general was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

  “Less than three dozen of us, all total. Considering the situation, shouldn’t there be like… a battalion? A division? Hell, the whole freakin’ army should be here.”

  General Wong was now truly perplexed. “What are you saying, Doctor Lake?”

  “General… I’m pretty sure we’re on the inside.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “We’re not outside the tower. We’re inside.”

  §

  “No. No, that doesn’t make sense,” said Dr. Owen. “Lake’s wrong.”

  “It does provide answers to a number of questions,” said Church. He and Owen were sitting at one of the two tables in the small breakroom. Most of the others of the team were standing against the four beige colored walls.

  “Such as our ability to communicate with command,” said Asher.

  “No,” Owen stated flatly. “It just pushes the questions around, but they’re still there.”

  “And it does create a batch of new ones,” admitted Church.

  “It certainly does,” said Owen.

  “How can they be inside and not know it?” asked Quinn. “Don’t they periodically go somewhere?”

  Owen threw up a hand. “Questions.”

  They had only just finished their scheduled communication with command. Lake had dominated the session, laying out his theory that command and the area immediately surrounding the tower was actually inside, that it was as another floor.

  “It can’t be a floor,” said Carmody. “When we got here... it was outside. We drove up to the tower. We were outside.”

  “Were we?” asked Lisa. It was a whisper. “There was something not quite right. It was eerie. It felt… eerie.”

  “Come on, Lisa,” droned Owen. “We had just pulled up outside an alien tower, for Christ’s sake.”

  Lisa gave a weak smile. “I suppose,” she said at last.

  “To the lieutenant’s point,” Owen said to the group at large. “Wong and Lake and the others must leave command now and then. They would certainly notice traversing from inside to outside. Or is it being suggested that wherever they go is still inside?”

  “Perhaps they only believe they are leaving,” said Asher.

  “Oh, Peter. That’s
crazy, even for this place; even for you.”

  “Just a thought,” Asher sighed with a thin smile.

  “Keep thinking.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Sgt. Costa and Ramos had been standing quietly near the door. Costa shook her head in frustration. “You guys sort this out. I don’t see as it makes much difference to us.” She looked across at Quinn. “How ‘bout Ramos and I head over to baggage storage, sir?”

  “Good idea, Sergeant,” said Quinn. He turned to Carmody. “Let’s you and I check the perimeter outside.”

  “Mind if I join you?” asked Asher.

  “I’d like to tag along,” said Susan.

  The room began to clear until Church and Banister found themselves alone. Church sat back with a loud sigh.

  “That’s better,” he said. He looked thoughtfully at Banister. “You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet, Wes.”

  “Have I?” Banister moved to the table and sat down opposite Church.

  “You have.” Church wiggled a finger in Banister’s general direction. “You workin’ on a notion in that web-entangled skull of yours?”

  A shrug. “Theory of a sort.”

  “You’re thinking Lake is right?”

  “He’s onto something, but…”

  “Yeah, I know,” groaned Church. “No answer fits all the questions.”

  “And there are a few. You were right about that.”

  “Alright. Let us assume then that there are several different answers to our multitude of questions.”

  “I can do that.”

  Church scooted forward in his chair. “A floor, but not a floor.”

  “Ah, my dear Doctor Church,” said Banister. “You are thinking what I am thinking.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Perhaps command isn’t actually within a floor as Doctor Lake has postulated. Perhaps it is rather an event horizon, of a sort, that lay between the tower and the true outside world.”

  “I am toying with such an idea, though certainly not an event horizon per se.”