The Two Devils

by David B. Riley

  He nodded. “Exactly. As I said, you do seem to have an uncanny ability to encounter these people. I propose we use that uncanny ability to our advantage."

  I knew better. Nonetheless, I signed the form and took the expense money. Once again, I'd been talked into something that I really did not want to do.

  The man who brought me there took me home. There was no real discussion of what I was to do with the expense money, nor where or when I was supposed to go. I went by the shop. The Captain had left a note for me, saying he would not be in the next day. So, my adventures, I decided, would have to be deferred at least one day longer.

  The next morning, I found myself on my own in the barbershop. A few regular customers came by, then departed without any of my services once they realized the Captain was not there.

  At around noon, a nervous, young gentleman in his early twenties entered. He was tall and lean. He was exceptionally well dressed, even by San Francisco standards. The man described what he wanted, a modest trim, and I proceeded to try and not do too much damage to his appearance.

  While I cut his hair, I wondered why the man was so nervous. He certainly seemed out of place. Even though I have never been a fan of small talk, I asked him, “You from around here?"

  "I'm from Berkeley,” he said. “I am a graduate assistant to Professor Lowell."

  I had no idea what a graduate assistant was, but I did know where Berkeley was. “I see. What brings you into the city?"

  He thought carefully about his response. “I have been to see the editor of the Examiner. Alas, my trip was for nothing."

  "Sorry to hear that,” I consoled. “Isn't there a paper in Oakland? The Tribune or something?"

  "I was thrown out of there yesterday."

  "Sorry to hear that."

  "They think I'm some sort of kook,” he added.

  "Again, sorry to hear that."

  "You seem like an open-minded fellow,” my customer told me. “Can you come to Berkeley?"

  "I was planning on riding by tomorrow,” I said. “What have you got over there?"

  "I guarantee, Miles, you will be truly amazed at what you will see. Come to the observatory. I'll draw you a map.” He scribbled some instructions on a scrap of paper. “Come tomorrow?"

  "Sure,” I agreed. I figured, since I'd already planned to go through Berkeley on Judge Hastings’ fools errand, I thought I would see what this man was so worked up over. I guess a small part of my feeble brain was hoping he was wrapped up with General Creed in some fashion. There sure were plenty of nervous people running around who'd tangled with his outfit. I couldn't have been more wrong.

  We circumvented the University of California and found ourselves on a very steep road that led up into the hills above Oakland. Eventually, we came upon a cluster of large buildings, all painted white. One of them had a domed roof. The first person we saw was a red-haired man pruning a row of shrubs. He demanded we leave at once. I then realized I did not even know the name of the man I was looking for. “He's a graduate assistant of Professor Lowell."

  "That's what they all say,” he replied. “Get out."

  "We were invited,” I insisted. “Really."

  Fortunately, the graduate assistant fellow came bolting out of one of the white buildings. “Ah, Miles, you made it.” The red-haired man backed off.

  I found a place to park Paul, then was ushered into the big domed building. In the center of this building was a very strange device called a telescope. I'd heard of such things, but not like this. This one, I was instructed, used finely polished mirrors to see the heavens above. There was nothing of its kind anywhere else in America. We would have to wait to see whatever it was. It only worked after dark.

  Darkness eventually arrived. I was ushered into the middle of this big room and waited while the roof rolled back as the graduate fellow turned a large crank in the wall. The fellow then focused the lens. Then, he stared so long into the eyepiece I eventually tapped him on the shoulder. He pulled away and gazed at me blankly. He backed away from the device. I put my eye up to the thing. I stared and stared, then moved away. There was nothing noteworthy to look at—nothing. I saw nothing but reddish brown dirt.

  The graduate fellow went over to the corner, sat on the floor and started crying. “I don't believe this is happening."

  "Who the hell are you?” a bespeckled, balding man demanded. I had no idea where he'd emerged from.

  "I'm Miles."

  The graduate fellow picked himself off the floor. “Professor Lowell."

  "What are you doing here?” the professor demanded. I think he meant me.

  "It's Mars,” the graduate fellow explained.

  "I told you, those are not canals,” the professor snapped.

  "They're gone,” the graduate fellow added.

  "Gone?"

  "Gone, completely totally gone,” the graduate fellow quietly said as he looked down at the floor.

  The professor pointed at the door. “Get out! Get out now!” I think he meant me.

  I did not argue. I fetched my horse and headed back down the road.

  As we descended, I heard someone riding up behind us. I looked over my shoulder and realized it was the graduate fellow, riding a mule.

  "Miles, do you have lodgings?” he asked me.

  I shrugged. “Not really."

  "I have a small apartment, just up ahead. You're welcome to stay there tonight,” he said.

  Lacking any alternative, I agreed. It turned out there was a shack Paul could stay in, so it seemed a better alternative than looking for lodgings so late at night. I made my bed on a very comfortable sofa. Then, I accepted a cup of tea from my host.

  "I must apologize for Professor Lowell's behavior. He has been under incredible pressure from the regents. Scientific equipment, you see, is quite expensive. Our project is over budget and seriously behind schedule,” the graduate fellow explained. “And, for the last few nights, a most unusual activity has been recurring."

  He took a sip of tea and sat quietly for a moment. “The big telescope was never designed to look at Mars. I was simply testing it, checking its clarity against known maps of certain features that have already been made. But, this telescope can see more than just major mountain ranges. It can see much more.” He placed his empty cup on a small table. “There were canals there—canals full of water. The professor, he insisted it must be something else. But, he knew I was right."

  "Canals, made by someone?” I asked.

  "Precisely."

  I thought about Elbert for a moment, then decided not to share my experience with the beer drinking little green man. Elbert had insisted he was not from Mars. He'd never really mentioned if there were others who were. “Go on,” I suggested.

  "Well, a few nights ago, things got even more complicated. I noticed there seemed to be explosions on the surface of Mars. If that is what they were, they would've been far more powerful than anything ever seen on earth, just from the size and brightness of them. That was what I thought we'd see tonight. I was wrong."

  "I guess the war is over,” I said.

  "So it would seem. Professor Lowell wanted to keep this quiet until he had a chance to see if other scientists had seen anything. I enraged him when I went to the papers.” He picked up his empty cup and took mine.

  "He needn't have worried. I was dismissed outright. No one believes me, Miles. The canals are gone. Vanished."

  The story seemed beyond my abilities to assess. I slept through the rest of the night. I awoke the next morning and found my horse on the front lawn, munching on grass. That was convenient, as there weren't any oats around to feed him. I saddled him up, then headed east.

  I figured we'd follow the roads that ran next to the Sacramento River and head toward Stockton. I, quite frankly, hoped we would wander around for a day or two and return without finding anything. I was not looking for another encounter with General Creed's bunch and could have lived quite nicely without seeing that dreadful man, his green tee
th, or his ledger book ever again.

  We made camp along the river at a nice spot shaded by eucalyptus trees. I'd just stretched out to relax when the graduate fellow rode up on that mule.

  "Ah, there you are,” he said.

  His presence was somewhat baffling. I certainly did not recall inviting him to come along. “The University of California has evicted me,” he announced.

  "What brings you out this way?” I asked.

  "I have decided to approach the University of the Pacific, in Stockton, for a position,” he replied. “They may not yet know that I am a kook."

  "Oh, I see."

  The fellow started to unroll his blanket. “Have you eaten?"

  "No."

  "Very well,” he informed me. “I shall get started on our supper."

  When supper arrived, I was glad he'd tagged along. He constructed a very nice well-seasoned stew. He'd even used a few leaves from the eucalyptus tree to flavor it. It was quite satisfying and a very full and contented Miles O'Malley leaned back against a tree trunk to relax as the sun made its way below the horizon. “Where'd you learn to cook?” I finally asked when the sun was through painting the sky for the day.

  "I've been on my own for some time. And, studying science, I've come to learn that an abundance of wild plants all around California are not only edible, but delicious.” He tossed a few logs on the campfire to liven it up a bit. “So, I may be unemployed, but I probably will not starve."

  I found my attention drifting off to the heavens as the sky darkened. “Is that red thing, below the moon, Mars?"

  He looked up at the sky. “Yes, the red thing is Mars."

  At about that time, I noticed there was something else moving across the sky. “What's that yellow thing?” Whatever it was, it was getting bigger—fast.

  "I don't know, but it can't possibly be good,” he told me. He stared intently at it for a minute. “It seems to be getting bigger, almost as if it's heading directly toward us."

  I did not have his scientific training, but I did agree. This something was streaking across the sky and seemed headed directly for us. I pointed at it and yelled, “Paul, something's going to drop out of the sky on us. Might want to find some cover."

  "Yelling to your horse won't...” He stopped talking and scratched his chin. “Fascinating.” He watched Paul run away from us for a moment. “But that still leaves us."

  "The river bank!” I suggested as I raced for it. It was good steep drop of ten feet.

  "And if it comes down in the river itself?” the graduate fellow asked, “We'll be drowned."

  I jumped, then slid to a stop at water's edge. “Got any better ideas?"

  The glowing thing was literally on top of us. The graduate fellow slid down the bank and landed in the water. I extended my hand and helped him back up to the narrow lip of dirt that bordered the river.

  The impact was like nothing I'd ever experienced before—nothing. It was loud, louder than cannons going off. So loud, I felt it in my body as well as in my ears.

  Slowly, gradually, the ground stopped shaking. We climbed back up to the ground above the riverbank.

  "That was incredible,” the graduate fellow said. “I have never been so close to a meteor before."

  "That wasn't no meteor,” I argued.

  There was a substantial crater about two hundred yards ahead of us. The hole was starting to fill with water that was seeping in from the high water table present all around the Sacramento River Delta. As the cool water soaked in, it sizzled, as though it contacted something really hot in the crater. The result was a growing cloud of steam.

  I had to yell over the sizzling noise. “You said so yourself, just the other day,” I pointed out.

  "Said what?” the graduate fellow asked.

  "Something's wrong on Mars. One day there are canals, the next day there's nothing but dust. You said you saw explosions.” I pointed at the hole. “You think this thing just dropped here out of the sky by coincidence?” I was amazed with my logic.

  "What you propose, Mr. O'Malley, is most incredible.” He moved a few feet closer toward the crater. “Most incredible, indeed.” Then, he pointed at an anomaly in the crater. “My word."

  It was an underground cave, not large, but a cave nonetheless. I figured the water table would not allow a big one. The cave ran south, away from the river. It appeared to be about the size of a large barn. And, most incredible of all, this cave was well stocked with provisions bearing labels of the U.S. Army.

  Freshly exposed to the world, sat a buckboard with what looked like one of the Gatling guns I'd been sent to recover mounted on it.

  I climbed down into the cave. The dirt had a glasslike quality, melted and changed by the impact. It was not at all pleasant, but it was only a short distance downward. At the far end of the cave was a wooden ladder that led back to the surface. It exited amidst a cluster of rocks, which disguised it from view.

  With the cave now wide open, it seemed poorly concealed, though I'm sure I could've ridden right past it without knowing any of this was there.

  I snooped around. The cases—most marked U. S. Army—mainly contained things like swords and canteens. Then I discovered an unassembled Gatling gun in a crate by the wall. It had never occurred to me that the guns had been stolen unassembled. The thieves had, apparently, only managed to prepare one of them.

  I decided to take a closer look at the assembled one and climbed up onto the buckboard to inspect my find. It was certainly one of the missing Gatling guns, complete with a case of ammunition. It looked like it might never have been fired. The gun was quite massive. I wondered about the military value of a gun that was so big and heavy. Then, I realized the graduate fellow was tugging at my shirtsleeve. There was an odd look in his eyes. “What is it?” I asked.

  He seemed unable to talk. Finally, he blurted out “There!” and pointed out into the center of the crater. “There!"

  Something was crawling up the side of the crater. It had a rounded head that was pitted with strange marks. A comparison to the Man in the Moon would be my best approximation of what it looked like. There wasn't much of a body, save for eight or nine brown tentacles that stretched out from the base of its head for some ten feet each. This creature was nothing like Elbert.

  I watched the creature for a minute, then I looked back at the graduate fellow, hoping he could offer some learned theory about how to proceed. I looked up just in time to see the bottom of his trousers disappear out the top entrance to the cave. I went outside through the new opening and watched him run away.

  In about a minute, he had vanished into the woods.

  I never saw him again. I'd never even gotten his name. But, there I was, by myself with this Martian creature heading right toward me. I did not like this. My quandary was simple. This thing had not actually harmed me. All it was doing was climbing out of a really big hole. Did that justify me opening fire? My quandary only lasted a few seconds.

  The Martian looked right at me. Then it reared back with one of its tentacles and threw something that started out as a clear liquid, but had changed into orange fire by the time it reached the dirt right below my feet.

  The ground sizzled on impact. Whether this stuff was acid or something else, I did not look forward to feeling it sear into my skin. I fired all six rounds from my revolver, wishing Paul hadn't run off with my rifle still in his saddlebags.

  The creature rolled back to the bottom of the crater and splashed into the growing pool of water. I'd hit it. As I reloaded, I hoped that had done the trick. As the Martian creature again started to climb toward me, I realized it had not.

  This time, it seemed even angrier as it climbed up and out of the crater.

  The graduate fellow may have been right in his solution to the dilemma, but I didn't feel right about simply running away. Then I remembered, right behind me, was the latest military hardware of the United States government—all assembled and ready to go. I pushed the buckboard closer to the opening, s
et the wooden wedges that appeared to be the brakes, then hopped up on the buckboard as the Martian creature climbed out of the hole.

  I didn't have time to figure out how to work the thing. I just swung it around and started turning the crank, hoping it was the trigger and hoping Mr. Gatling's invention was loaded. The weapon roared to life as bullets roared out of the rotating barrels.

  As the first few rounds struck the creature, bits of its tentacles tore off. Then, I was able to train the gun on the moon-like head. Chunks of that began to fly off, then bigger chunks, then an orange colored material began to spew out of the wounds. In seconds, it was all over. The creature's body was again tumbling back down into the hole as the Gatling gun stopped firing, apparently from lack of ammunition.

  I stood there for a minute, then climbed down from the buckboard. The creature had vanished inside the growing pool of water at the center of the crater. There was no movement or activity that I could tell. I climbed up the wooden ladder and out of the cave. I stood there, looking around, wondering where my horse had gone off to.

  I'd told Paul to run. I figured he'd retreated to a safe distance, but I now wondered where he was. I did not have to wait very long for an answer. There was dust coming up down the road. The dust trail grew closer. In no time at all, a troop of some twenty cavalry soldiers rode up, led by the major. A corporal held the reins to my horse, who appeared none the worse for wear.

  "Major,” I said.

  "Mr. O'Malley,” the major said while he gazed at the crater. Then he noticed the cave with its wall ripped open. “When Judge Hastings proposed sending you off into the wilderness and that you would simply blunder upon the missing weapons, I was a bit skeptical. Once again, Judge Hastings has proven smarter that I."

  A soldier handed me the reins to my horse. Paul was filthy, but appeared unharmed. “We found your horse down the road."

  "Much obliged,” I said.

  "Sergeant, secure the Gatling guns,” the major ordered.

  "Uh, aren't you the least bit curious what happened here?” I asked.