Broken Wing: A million deaths were not enough for Cassandra!

by Konig, Artor

  “Jolly good.” He commended me briefly as he peered at the enigmatic darkness shown by the crack in the door. It was then, standing almost in the doorway, that I perceived and recognised another scent underlying the dust, gloom and stale air from within the passage beyond. The scent was an old, gloomy and pervasive odour, something so ancient and unusual in its context, but still having a familiar foundation.

  “There’s someone inside that tunnel.” I told the Doctor quietly.

  “Oh nonsense, Cassandra; this door hasn’t been opened for who-cares how long.” He told me, somewhat impatiently.

  “It need not be the only entrance to the caves beyond.” I pointed out logically, distressed by his impatient tone and by his sudden hurry to get into the cave without taking the usual precautions. He seemed to have lost that fine control he once had, almost as if he didn’t care what sort of risks he took.

  “If there was somebody living on the other side of this door,” He told me sarcastically, “He would have been here by now; you didn’t open the door silently. And there would be light around; most folks don’t care for darkness.”

  “The person may be a good distance away.” I replied, “Use your nose; the scent of some person is definitely in the air.” He sniffed, somewhat critically I thought, not exactly trying to pick up a scent rather trying to express a certain disdain for what he must have felt was a delaying tactic on my part. But that faint odour, once a person’s attention is brought to it, seems to become stronger and clearer. He sniffed again, more inquisitively this time.

  “Thank you again; this is the third time your nose has kept us out of trouble.” He told me, his voice much quieter. He heaved his pistol out of his belt again, waving his torch at the door in an easily interpreted signal. I shoved it open and he leapt within, torch and gun pointing everywhere at once. Having determined to his satisfaction that the passage was empty he nodded cryptically to me. It occurred to me then that he was doing his detective-in-action impersonation as a mockery of my caution, as if he had not given the scent its due weight. I followed after him somewhat reluctantly, feeling rather hurt by his attitude as I perceived it. I wondered again, forlornly, why my parents had insisted on calling me Cassandra.

  There may not have been anybody living in the cave; at that point I certainly couldn’t say for sure; but it gave the clear impression of having been lived in at some stage. The passage that led from the door had been made entirely to serve that door, there being no other place to go to but down the passage. The floor here was dusty, the lamps on the roof cobwebbed by more innocent members of that family. But it was beautifully levelled and polished, walls, floor and the half-cylinder of the vaulted ceiling. There was a light-switch by the door; one that worked. That seemed in my mind to give more weight to my belief that there was somebody lurking within. The Doctor left the light on, seeing that there were three lamps serving the passage down its length. He walked casually, with his gun down at his side and his torch back in his pocket. I followed after him, looking at the walls and roof, the lamps in their fancy fittings, the ruddy glow of polished stone beneath my feet.

  The passage ended with a door; beyond the door there was light.

  Noticing this, the Doctor sent me scurrying back to turn off the passage lights. The line of light beneath the door didn’t vanish as he had expected. It was clearly artificial light, giving that final weight to my previous words. “Looks like you’re right after all.” He conceded thoughtfully, “I wonder who the devil it is.” He looked at the door, seeing that it was locked as the one before had been, but with the key in it on the other side of the wooden leaf. He listened at the door; there were no sounds from within. At length he turned to me, “Come on, cat-burglar; can you deal with this door? Very quietly, I mean?”

  “I’ll have a go.” I told him, taking over his post at the door.

  I examined the problem from all angles, peering at the lock and the space beneath the door. Though there was light from under that space, the source wasn’t opposite the door; rather from either side, as if it was a passage at right angles to the one we were in, with lamps at various intervals along its length. I studied the problem for a short while, seeing that it was a passage from my examination of the space beneath the door. I could see the other side of the passage as I lay. I listened for a good while but no sound came to me. I was quite sure that the passage wasn’t being used and that there was nobody close by.

  “May I borrow your jacket, Doctor? Or your shirt?” I asked him quietly. He looked at me in amused speculation for a few moments before he took off his jacket then his shirt. I took the thinner garment, huffed the dust from the floor then laid the shirt perfectly flat on the polished stone. Carefully and with infinite patience I slid it over the floor, under the door. The Doctor watched in silence, not quite up to the trick I was about to perform. Once I was happy with the position of the shirt, I borrowed his tools once again. With the screwdriver I had used before I poked the key out of the keyhole. The sound it made when it fell onto the floor seemed frightfully loud to both of us. A pleased grin appeared on his face when he saw what I was up to,

  “Jolly good idea; who taught you that?” He asked in admiration as I pulled his shirt, complete with the key, under the door.

  “Enid Blyton.” I told him honestly, handing his shirt back to him, “From my long-ago childhood. Her books taught me quite a lot.”

  “I must have missed the particular book of which you’re thinking.” He told me as he buttoned his shirt up.

  “That particular character used news-paper; but we didn’t have any so I had to make do.” I replied, turning to place the key in the lock. He finished getting back his former nattiness and then nodded to me. He took the lead once again, opening the door quietly.

  He peered both up and down the passage thus revealed, a slight frown on his face. “You’ll have to play the rear-guard again, old thing.” He told me, “I can’t see where this person is and I don’t want to be caught off-guard.” I stepped into the passage, feeling the slight breeze coming from my left, the odour of salt telling me the ocean was that way. I did a bit of thinking, knowing the odour of person would have been in the passage for a long time, trapped there since last the door was locked. I felt it was more likely that any people would be towards the heart of the crag; to the right. He heard me out in silence, glancing up and down the passage. On both sides of the passage there were doors. We couldn’t see any signs of definite placement; the light down the passage hid such clues as lines of light under doorways. But just then came a definite hint; from the passage to our right there echoed a hollow cough.

  “I’m glad you’re on my side.” The Doctor told me softly as he looked down the passage to see where the sound had come from.

  He traced the sound to the third doorway on our left as we faced down the passage. Silently we walked down the passage, the Doctor holding his gun above his head. His formal shoes made a certain amount of noise but his gait was naturally silent and he didn’t make enough noise to alert that person. My track-shoes made no sound; my warm tracksuit was silent, forbidding even shivers. I stood sufficiently far behind the Doctor to be out of his way in case of any sudden action on his part as he stood outside the door.

  The portal gaped so slightly; there was light within. He peered through the crack of the door. I watched up and down the passage while he stood there, feeling quite sure that there may be more than one person in this huge suite.

  “Come in, Doctor.” The voice was cracked, ancient, but the command in its tone was unmistakable. It was also impossible to resist; the Doctor jarred slightly and then opened the door wider. Even then he didn’t submit entirely to this nebulous sound. Having opened the door he stood his ground, looking within the room. I stood next to him, peering into the room from over his shoulder.

  There was an old man was sitting at a desk facing away from the door, his head bent in study of the papers before him. Around the room there were many benches and tables, a verita
ble laboratory equipped with old but efficient instruments of widely divergent character. The old man was clad in a disreputable dressing gown, his feet thrust into ancient carpet slippers. His pink head was ringed with white hair like down or feathers. His shoulders were hunched up over whatever he was looking at, but they were broad and well-muscled beneath the faded towelling of his gown. He mumbled to himself, turning over a page of an old tome, shaking his head and closing the leather-bound volume. He stood up slowly, turning to face us. His eyes narrowed in surprise when he saw me behind the Doctor but any astonishment he felt he covered well. His face was ancient, wrinkled and puckered around the toothless mouth and lively, faded blue eyes. His posture was upright, his height more than that of the Doctor, less than my own. He looked at us for a few minutes before he spoke again. “I perceive that you came in the back way; through the spider’s lair. From this I deduce that you have dealt with the vermin. Well done; nobody’s managed to find my lair before, not in centuries. You are the Doctor; you I believe are Cassandra. Welcome friends. I am the Master of Black Crag.”

  There was a sense of ancient and terrible power about the Master as if he could call lightning down with his eyes, as if the tides and the winds were his to control. There was a patient majesty about him as well; as if he knew what we were thinking and was well prepared to wait until we finally got it right. I could readily believe his implication that he had seen centuries flow past him. The power of his physical presence was awesome; the light behind those faded blue eyes limitless. He was The Master; it didn’t take him long to master us. But even under the pressure of that presence the Doctor’s mind was apparently still sharp and alert. “You are of course correct. I presume that you have been monitoring our radio transmissions?” He asked bluntly.

  “That is quite right, my boy, quite right. And I must further commend you on the motives for which you have annexed my home and made use of the castle. Science certainly has come a long way since I last spoke to a cultured man; you will do me the honour of keeping my company for a while, so I may set my mind at rest on a few points? And lunch; I perceive that your pet pilot is hungry; we can’t allow that, now can we?” His voice became more musical, easier on the ear as he spoke as if he hadn’t used his voice for a long time but was quickly getting the idea again. He ushered us politely out of the room, taking no notice of the pistol which the Doctor still had in his hand. The Doctor looked at the weapon in bemusement before shoving it back into his belt.

  “What are those spiders, anyway?” He asked, “Or what were they?”

  “How many have you destroyed?” The Master returned, “Then we can decide whether or not to speak of them in the present tense.”

  “Two we killed; the three men we lost managed to destroy all the eggs.” I replied carefully and sadly.

  “You lost three men? Stone dead?” He replied, shocked into sudden stillness behind us, “Oh my dear, I’m so sorry to hear that; who was it that they bit?”

  “Andrew, Craig and Harry.” I replied, my words passing with difficulty through a constriction in my chest and throat, “Andy died just when we found him before the Doctor finished off the second spider. But what are they anyway?”

  “They are, or were; there are no others of what I know; not on the Crag at least; they were a mutation of a fairly ordinary tarantula; the strain was apparently exposed to radiation in one of the lower caverns, down on the south side of the crag. They were a bloody nuisance; the chaps on the ledges had the blue horrors every time one appeared. Fortunately the creatures are very sensitive to light; they die after about an hour in sunlight. Their numbers became quite dangerous about two, maybe one and a half centuries ago; made quite an inroads on the population of the island and forced me to seal off this part of the caves. But their numbers dwindled; there was not enough food making its way into the caves and it was too great a distance for night prowls. They started eating each other then things went from bad to worse for them. The last time I checked there were only two, making the trip between their lair and the southern ledges, going out at night and catching birds on the ledges. If they’ve been dealt with and the eggs broken then that should be the end of the problem.”

  “I hope so.” I replied as he led us into what was obviously his kitchen. He showed me where everything was; and a lot there seemed to be. His diet seemed to consist entirely of fruit, easily available to him from the south ledges, and various sorts of greens. The tea he showed me was unusual but quite pleasant. There was evidence of fish and shell-fish in his stores. We had a pleasant meal together. The Doctor appeared to shake off his reserve and the two scientists, one young and up to date, the other old and versed in a seemingly endless expanse of knowledge, had a jolly good jaw about subjects which quite quickly left me floundering many leagues behind. They discussed every topic of which they could think, the Doctor after a new slant on his own lore, the Master keen on news from the outside world and how things had progressed since he’d last had contact with science.

  “Radio gives you a broad picture; but it doesn’t give me clear details on specific subjects; especially since I can’t ask any questions without giving my presence away. All things considered, I feel it is best that outside eyes are not drawn to Black Crag.” He told us over the meal, “I need resources; the principle being knowledge; something of which you chaps have brought a great deal with you. I need a good team behind me, a system whereby I can keep the technology that the new boys are playing with from getting out of hand. These weapons of mass destruction for a start; we can’t have that sort of thing going on when we should all be working as a team to conquer ignorance. Only the ignorant would want to conquer each other, after all.”

  “We’ve certainly got that knowledge; I was involved in making those blasted bombs before I pulled out of the Institute and set myself up here.” The Doctor told him agreeably.

  “So you came here with your fleet of laser-craft; -you must explain lasers to me old boy; I haven’t quite got the hang of that;- and posted yourself on permanent watch to make sure that there were no major outbreaks of war; that is right, isn’t it?”

  “Something along those lines.” The Doctor agreed, “The Wrens can outrun most rockets; they would just have the edge if a nuclear war did break out, especially with the team of pilots I have.”

  “And that’s where Cassandra fits in; she’s your best pilot?” He pressed.

  “Easily the best; her rating is a good four percent above any of the others and they’re the best in the Kingdom.”

  “But we’ve just lost two pilots and a damned good technician.” I reminded them, “We have to think about recruiting in a big way. And Doctor, don’t you think you ought to start expanding the fleet a bit; there are other places where we can keep more craft?”

  “Your ideas have yet to be unsound; we’ll think about that.” The Doctor told me; his sweeping statement included the Master as if the other fellow was now part of the team. I bit my lip, sitting back a bit. I was becoming very uneasy about the whole thing; and the Master didn’t strike me as being an entirely wholesome character. He quite obviously had the Doctor just where he wanted him; but he didn’t impress me terribly favourably. Maybe he was concentrating on the Doctor, under the impression that I would follow where I was led. Maybe it was as much as he could do to keep the Doctor in his new place and his thumb wasn’t big enough to include me too; maybe he just didn’t think I could account for much anyway.

  I withdrew from the conversation and let them get on with it with no further assistance from myself. I listened carefully though, not wanting to miss any information I might find useful at a later date. What was said, from a scientific point of view, was way over my head like a street-light; they both knew enough of each other’s fields to be able to go right to the core of the matter, not wasting time describing phenomena in simplified terms, going straight to the reason behind each idea. The Doctor soon had laid out the principles of nuclear theory and how it had been applied in the case of the Wre
ns. The Master caught on very quickly. He was also very sharp when it came to coherent light physics; after the idea had been explained to him once he told us how to make a simple laser in almost the next breath. He may have been old; but he certainly wasn’t slow. Once he knew that certain sorts of matter would emit a coherent photonic beam if excited in a suitable fashion it was as if vistas opened up for him in his mind.

  “Is there any chance of getting what-you-call-it; gamma radiation to cause this sort of emission?” He asked suddenly, “That would give you the next one down; let’s see; röntgen-ray laser or something like that. That beam would excite anything in its path to the point of disruption if what you say about the atom is correct.” He looked questioningly at the Doctor.

  “X-lasers we call them for convenience. My most competent light specialist cracked that problem after ten months of single-minded research.” The Doctor replied, “We don’t use those beams in the Earth’s atmosphere because, as you’ve guessed, they cause atomic disruption every time they’re fired. The loss of energy as a result means the beams don’t go very far; seldom more than ten miles or so and that’s too close to the atomic explosion that results for us to be comfortable with. Cassandra knows all about that; she had to use the ray at ground level once to destroy a nuclear bunker belonging to a minor power that was about to use the perishing things.” He glanced at me, a twinkle in his eye, “They flew through the blast region without too much bother; but it was a rather nerve-wracking experience.”