The Black Tower: The Complete Series

by David R. Beshears

  It took another several minutes to make it the hundred yards up the beach and up the rocks to the lighthouse. Once inside, Asher went upstairs to gather gear from the two sleeping quarters while Ramos collected the supplies from the cupboards.

  “Make it fast, Professor,” Ramos called up to him. He was piling everything onto the table. “Only what the two of us can carry.”

  Only moments later he heard the thumping of footfalls on the stairs and then Asher was coming out of the stairwell. He had three backpacks in each arm.

  Together they stuffed what supplies they could into the already half-filled backpacks. Once these were closed and secured, they each took three, wearing one and carrying two. They grabbed up the utility belts and were back out the door and into the storm.

  The giant seagull was waiting for them.

  It stood six feet from the door, head hunched low against the wind and rain, and warily eyed the humans.

  It looked miserable.

  §

  Asher and Ramos stepped out onto the metal walkway above the hold, soaking wet and struggling with the assortment of backpacks and utility belts. They set the gear down beside them and looked down to the floor. The others had moved away from the center of the hold and were gathered directly below them.

  “There you are,” said Costa, looking up at them. “I was about to go looking for you.”

  “Sorry, Sara,” said Asher. “It is really, really bad out there.”

  “And we had to say good-bye to our friend,” said Ramos.

  “Problem?” asked Costa. She waved for Ramos to drop the packs down to her.

  “Nope.” Ramos began lowering the packs over the rail and dropping them down to her one at a time. “Not once we stepped away from the door.”

  “It was the oddest thing,” said Asher. “Damn bird just wanted out of the weather. He almost got stuck squeezing through the door.”

  The team began sorting through their gear as Asher and Ramos came down the steep stairs. Costa had her utility belt on and was putting her arms through the shoulder straps of her very wet backpack. “Who ever heard of a seagull afraid of bad weather?”

  “Like the professor said, Sarge,” said Ramos. “It is really bad out there. I mean, like end of the world bad.”

  “We’ve been feeling a little of that down here,” said Lisa.

  A deep, hollow rumbling sound of creaking metal reverberated throughout the freighter and down into the hold.

  “And hearing it,” said Costa. “Perhaps we should be going.”

  “And if we end up back on the third floor?” asked Ramos.

  “Let us hope our assumptions are correct and that doesn’t happen,” said Asher. “We can’t stay here.”

  “And we have to find Doctor Church,” Susan stated firmly.

  “Absolutely,” said Costa. She took several steps back toward the center of the hold, stopping well short of where Church had disappeared. She looked to Ramos. “Corporal, if you please.”

  Ramos hesitated a moment, took a deep breath and then started forward. He passed Costa. Another three steps and he vanished. Costa waved a hand for the others to follow.

  §

  The weather around the tower had taken a turn for the worse, pounding the Quonset hut with gale force winds and heavy rain. The general, Dr. Lake, Carmody and Johansen waited it out there in the command center while the others hunkered down in the tower’s empty first floor.

  The thrumming sound of wind and rain against the metal shell of the building had a soothing, almost hypnotic effect. General Wong was leaning back in his chair, half dozing. Dr. Lake sat opposite the general, lost in thought, one hand resting on the tabletop, fingers drumming.

  Johansen and Carmody sat together off to one side. They were leaning close to one another, whispering below the level of the white noise. Whatever the conversation, it seemed to be quite genial.

  The sound of the storm began to change. The wind eased first, and then the rain. General Wong opened his half-closed eyes, leaned slowly forward. Dr. Lake, staring down absently at his drumming fingers, stopped drumming. His gaze drifted up to the general, then to the corrugated shell of the Quonset hut.

  Johansen and Carmody drifted slowly apart, Carmody sitting back in her chair, Johansen finally standing. He went to the door, opened it a few inches and peeked out. Sunlight streamed past him and into the room. He looked back at the others and smiled, then opened the door wide and stepped outside.

  Everything was wet and shining bright. The sun was high in the sky and the world glistened. Thin mist began to form as the damp evaporated.

  “It’s beautiful,” said Carmody. She came up beside Johansen. General Wong and Dr. Lake stepped around and walked several paces ahead.

  “How many of these storms must we endure,” grumbled Lake.

  General Wong considered reminding the doctor of what this sort of thing meant. It was believed that many of the phenomena the team in the tower faced was often reflected to a lesser degree here at command. What then might the team inside have just… endured?

  In the end, the general said none of that.

  “Oh, we’ve all faced a lot worse out in the real world, Doctor Lake. We can take it.”

  “Hmmph,” managed Lake.

  Johansen stepped forward, moved up beside the general.

  “What do you think that’s all about, General?” he asked. Miller was standing just outside the opening into the tower. It looked like he was waving for them come over.

  “Let’s go find out,” said the General. He started across the lot. The steaming mist hovering above the shining black asphalt grew thicker as the bright, warm sun evaporated the glistening moisture from the surface. Dr. Lake kept pace beside him; Johansen and Carmody followed behind, bantering back and forth about what this all meant and speculated about what Miller wanted.

  Johansen and Carmody had continued to grow close. The general figured that if they had been out in the real world, they’d have been a couple by now. Here in this microscopic world where nothing could be assumed and anything could happen, forming deeper relationships must be difficult and tenuous.

  Once they were within a comfortable distance for conversation, General Wong gave Miller an acknowledging nod.

  “What do you have for us, Sergeant?”

  “Best you see for yourself, Sir.”

  “Mystery. I like it. Lead on, then.”

  They followed Sgt. Miller into the cavernous first floor. The sudden change from bright sunshine to gray gloom was startling. It took a while for eyes to adjust, and so the general just followed the silhouette of Miller’s frame and the sound of his footsteps, the others close behind.

  “Ah, there you are.” Banister’s voice came from somewhere ahead of Miller. “So glad you could join us.”

  “But of course, Doctor Banister. What have you found?”

  Sgt. Miller stepped to one side, allowing the general to step forward. Directly ahead stood Dr. Banister and Major Connelly. Directly behind them stood an elevator door.

  “Oh, I see,” General Wong said softly.

  “Quite,” stated Banister.

  There was a single pinging sound, and the down arrow light set above the elevator doors came on, glowing a soft green in the gray gloom.

  “Now this could get interesting,” said the general. Everyone took a few steps back and watched.

  And waited.

  Several in the group began to shuffle anxiously. The general placed his hands behind his back, slapped hand against palm.

  There was another soft ping.

  The down arrow light went out.

  The elevator door slid aside.

  Inside the elevator car stood Lieutenant Quinn. He looked most bewildered.

  ~ end of episode ten

  Episode Eleven

  Sandcastles

  Prolog

  Asher followed the winding path through a thinly treed forest of birch, the branches bare and trunks white. Veiled sunshine streamed th
rough and down to the thickly mulched forest floor. Ramos walked the trail some distance ahead. The others were following well behind Asher, with Costa bringing up the rear. It was quiet. No one spoke.

  Ramos disappeared from Asher’s line of sight as he rounded a bend in the trail. Half a minute later, Asher followed and almost immediately came out into the open. Ramos was already halfway across a sprawling meadow and was approaching a mansion that stood on the other side. Asher could just make out a lone figure standing atop the set of front steps, directly before an open doorway. At this distance, Asher could only guess that it was Church.

  The others of the team came up beside Asher and they started across the field together. As they walked, they watched the figure at the top of the steps move down a step and greet Ramos.

  Yes, it was Church.

  “Thank God he’s all right,” said Susan. Church had gone through the portal quite some time before the rest of the team, and it hadn’t been his idea. Susan had been in a quiet panic ever since.

  “I never doubted it for a minute,” said Asher calmly.

  They continued to approach the castle-like structure.

  “Them’s some digs,” said Costa.

  “A bit upscale for my taste,” said Asher. “It certainly takes the word mansion to a whole new level.”

  “No kidding,” said Costa. “It’s a freakin’ castle.”

  “Look at that,” said Lisa as they reached the foot of the steps. She was looking at the open threshold behind Church. “There’s no door.”

  “Oh, but that’s nothing, my dear,” said Church. He stood as a doorman before the entry. “Take a peek inside.”

  Ramos, standing beside him, waited long enough for the others to start up the stairs, then turned and led the way inside. They gathered together in the middle of the great front hall. The walls and high ceiling were rough-surfaced and tan-colored. The floor was smooth, the color of dry sand.

  There was no furniture. The walls were bare, there were no fixtures or outlets; there were no lights hanging from the ceiling.

  There were no doors in the doorways, there was no window glass in the numerous openings that were set into the exterior walls and that let in natural light.

  The group spread out and began poking their heads through the open thresholds to the other downstairs rooms. Asher started up a staircase with no rails. After three or four steps, he held a hand against the wall for support.

  He stopped. He looked curiously at his palm, lightly brushed it with his other hand.

  “It’s all sand,” he said as he tried to get the attention of the others. “The whole building is made of sand.”

  Episode Eleven / Chapter One

  It had become standard operating procedure that once a base camp was established on a new floor that the group split into two-person teams and conduct an initial survey of the immediate area. So Costa sent two teams in opposite directions on the ground floor and then she followed Asher up the staircase to the second floor.

  The rooms upstairs were as bare and empty as was the front hall. The compact sand of the walls, ceilings and floor felt firm and solid. The structure wasn’t going to collapse around them. But there was no furniture, there were no fixtures; there were no doors in the doorways, the window openings had no frames or glass.

  It gave Costa the impression of a sandcastle on a beach.

  She and Asher worked their way quickly from room to room, looking for anything out of the ordinary; searching for potential threats, items they could use, and of course any sign of the portal to the next floor. Light streamed into each room through the window openings, spilling out beyond the rooms and into the wide hallway that ran the length of the second floor.

  They reached the end of the hall and entered the corner room. It was large and empty. There were two window openings in one wall, a single, larger opening in another. Asher went to the larger window and looked outside.

  Sparsely treed woods spread out across low, rolling hills in all directions. The sky was pale blue and brushed with bright, thin clouds.

  The world was still.

  Costa, standing in the middle of the room, turned about and took in the sight of yet another empty room.

  “This snipe hunt is getting us nothing.”

  “They seldom do.” Asher continued staring out the window. “I’m certain this place means something, that it has some significance. Every floor does.”

  “Church keeps saying. So what’s this floor about?”

  “I don’t have the slightest idea.”

  “He says that a lot, too.”

  They both turned at looked out into the hall. There were raised voices echoing through the empty sandcastle. Costa thought she heard Ramos calling for her.

  “You think they found something?” asked Asher.

  “Or something found them.”

  §

  When Costa and Asher appeared at the top of the staircase, Ramos called up to them from the front hall below.

  “There you are. You’re going to want to see this.”

  They hurried down the stairs and followed the corporal through a passageway and down the first floor hallway toward the back of the mansion. They joined the others of the team in a small room. There was an open threshold leading outside, and beside this a large window opening.

  Through the threshold they could see a desolate expanse of hardpan dune, with occasional tufts of short, hardy bushes. In the distance stood another castle, looking very much like the one they were standing in.

  “Interesting,” said Asher. “That’s not the scene you see from upstairs.”

  Church was at the window, an elbow on the sill. He pointed outside. “It’s not the scene from this window, either.”

  Asher stepped to one side and glanced out the window. The view here was the same as that from upstairs; sparsely treed forests blanketing rolling hills.

  He stepped back before the door.

  “A portal?” It didn’t look much like a portal. It didn’t look anything like the portals they had grown so accustomed to these past months.

  “That would be my guess,” said Church. “Though not to the next floor; to the next castle.”

  §

  General Wong was standing with Captain Adamson and the venerable Doctor Banister just in front of the opening into the first floor of the tower. The day was bright and clear and the warm breeze felt good on the skin. Of late they spent too much time either in the tower or in the Quonset hut. It was good to get out in the sun.

  The general could see Quinn in the distance. The lieutenant had made his way fully around the tower and was walking now toward the picnic table in front of the Quonset hut. The man looked very tired.

  He had appeared in the elevator just that morning, lost and confused, and they hadn’t given him much of a break before putting him through several hours of debriefing.

  The general wasn’t sure what to make of Quinn’s story. He had no doubt that it was all true, and it was great to hear that the team was alive and still moving up the tower, but the lieutenant had given them a whole lot more to chew on. There was a helluva lot going on.

  And what about that elevator?

  Was its sudden appearance due to Quinn? Had the Adversary created it for the sole purpose of delivering the lieutenant? Would it vanish just as quickly now that he was here?

  Or was it intended to deliver them all somewhere else within the tower? Perhaps all the way to the Great Hall and the Adversary...

  So the decision was made.

  “Do you two have any immediate plans that you can’t put on hold?” he asked. Adamson looked puzzled. Banister just grinned.

  §

  Quinn climbed up onto the picnic table and sat with his feet planted on the attached bench. He looked across the lot at the tower. It didn’t look so good. It had lost much of its luster since he had last seen it from the outside.

  It looked a bit old and worn out.

  Coincidentally, that was exactly the wa
y he felt.

  He had no idea how he had ended up in the elevator. He hadn’t even known there was an elevator. The last thing he remembered was beaching the freighter.

  Maybe Owen had said something at the time… he wasn’t sure. The next thing he knew, he was in the elevator car, heading down. It descended for what seemed like forever. When it finally came to a stop, the doors opened and there they were: General Wong and the command team.

  Just at the moment, Quinn could see the general, Banister and Captain Adamson standing over near the base of the tower, in front of that entry into the first floor.

  It was certainly not the same first floor that Quinn remembered.

  Man, that was a really, really long time ago.

  What do I do now?

  He felt as isolated and useless out here as he had during his time alone atop that pillar in the void.

  He didn’t belong here. He had no function here. He belonged in the tower with the team; with his team.

  What could he possibly do out here?

  Over by the tower, Banister stepped away from the others and started toward Quinn. Quinn watched him approach, waited until he was near before sliding off the table and standing.

  “Doctor Banister,” he said, barely above a mumble.

  Banister waved for Quinn to sit back down. Quinn sat, this time on the bench. Banister sat beside him.

  “Don’t you worry, Lieutenant. It does get better,” said Banister.

  “Doctor?”

  “I know a little of what you’re going through, you’ll remember. I too was taken from the rest of the team and delivered here, left seemingly without a purpose.”

  “You were able to continue your research, working with Doctor Lake.”

  Banister grumbled dismissively. “Yes, yes. And for a time was able to communicate with Nate, as well. It’s not the same thing. You know that.”

  Quinn stared down at his clasped hands. “I suppose I do.”

  “I do understand,” said Banister. “Nothing we do here can compare to walking side-by-side with our companions across the floors in the tower.”