Through Glass Darkly: Episode Three

by Knyte,Peter

  Fortunately that also coincided with the first few members of the crew being released from hospital and returning to work, albeit on light duties to begin with. They were gradually joined by the remainder of the crew over the next few days and weeks.

  Bradbury and his men took another three weeks to finish all of their repair work, still reporting the job to be going eerily well at every turn as though the ship was somehow willing them on.

  The marines were almost the last of the crew to be released, and helping them to absorb and adapt to the catastrophic losses to their force was something which required a huge amount of my time, but that I discovered to be some of the most rewarding work I’d ever done.

  As part of my role with what remained of the marine battalion I contacted Dr Crow in order to both continue my own treatment, but also to provide his own unique brand of support and analysis to the marines, which he did with gusto, and which somehow involved him volunteering to learn how to use one of the marine suits himself, with spectacular and for him often rather painful results.

  As the weeks marched by the presence of the city officials was gradually replaced by other high ranking officials or prominent people from around the world, industrialists, artists, soldiers, clergymen and of course politicians.

  Once the last of the crew were discharged from the hospital and all hands were back aboard and gradually bringing the ship back to a semblance of normality, we left New York to fly the short distance to the World’s Fair which was being held in Chicago.

  The build up to this event had been colossal, but had also been an excellent exercise for the crew as they were discharged from the hospital and returned to their posts.

  There was still work to be done getting the ship back into fighting order, but the Captain was keen for everyone to also be involved in preparing for the fair as a more constructive and enjoyable activity.

  He was also very eager for us to share all the technological advances that our world had made in building the airships and associated devices and weapons we used to fight and combat the creatures invading our own world.

  After all that had happened, it was perhaps only a matter of time before the creatures from the Expanse gained a foothold in this world also.

  Scheduled to run originally until just November 1st, the duration of the entire fair had been extended until December 1st in order to accommodate the wealth of information we had to share, but even so three months was a very short time in which to share and explain so much.

  It was tiring and exhilarating work in equal measure, and some of the adaptations of our technology that the world’s manufacturers managed to come up with in such a short time was truly breath-taking.

  And then, in and amongst the millions of people that travelled from all around the world to see the fair, and to see us, they started to arrive. Fraser of all people was the first, after not having seen him for several weeks, it was a raucous and good natured reunion when he suddenly turned up one day without any notice.

  The following day he came back, and in between the different lectures and demonstrations that I’d been giving, he came to see me again.

  ‘I need to ask you something Ash, and I want you to take it seriously,’ he said, strangely serious for a moment.

  After reassuring him that of course I would, he came out with it.

  ‘I’d like to join you,’ he began. ‘I know you lost a lot of people when you came here, a lot of friends and colleagues, which means you must be a little short-handed, so I’d like to volunteer to join your crew.’

  I was a little bit taken aback at the idea, but good to my word I took it seriously.

  ‘James, have you thought this through? You know we may not be back this way anytime soon, or maybe even ever.’

  But he’d carefully considered everything I raised, and clearly realised what it would and could mean, so I took the proposal to the Captain, who agreed to accept him aboard provided it didn’t cause a problem for the FBI, which apparently it didn’t.

  Crow was the next, followed by a couple of the volunteers we’d trained to use the simplified lensing rigs back in New York, then Bradbury volunteered, after which the press somehow heard that we were accepting applications, and the floodgates opened turning the fair practically into our own private recruiting drive.

  By the start of December, with the fair finally coming to an end we’d received over fifteen thousand applications, discounting the many more thousands from youngsters who had clearly written to us without the permission of their parents.

  From the fifteen thousand, nearly twenty two hundred had been interviewed and over six hundred offered positions on the crew, bringing our numbers back up to nearly the number of crew we’d had when first setting off from our own world.

  All were less experienced than the crew we’d lost, but all had also proven themselves capable and deserving of the places they were offered, albeit with a steep learning curve ahead of them.

  Finally, after arriving in mid-summer, six months after leaving our home behind, we were finally in a position to leave this our adopted home in order to continue with our mission.

  We left, as we had arrived, back over the tallest city in the world, New York. This time on a clear winters night, just a few days after New Year, with tens of thousands of well-wishers on the ground to watch us go, and to enjoy the free lightshow which we created as we went.

  The story continues in:

  ‘By a Blue and Crimson Light’ – Summer 2017

  THANK YOU

  If you’ve enjoyed reading this book please

  leave a review with whichever website or bookseller you bought this book from, or if it was a gift with whichever bookseller you like to use.

  Reviews are the single most important thing to any authors writing career, without them we can languish in obscurity forever. With them we have a chance of living the dream and getting to write another day.

  Thank you for reading this book.

  Peter Knyte

  SAMPLE

  And finally:

  In the next few pages you’ll find a taster of one of my other stories also set in the 1930s ‘The Flames of Time’.

  Here’s the back page blurb, followed by a sample chapter.

  ‘Africa keeps its secrets well,

  and its ancient secrets best of all.

  Untouched by the crash of ‘29 Kenya is the glamourous and exotic retreat for many seeking to escape the privations of the western world.

  But when a group of friends get drawn into a strange shamanic ritual that reveals tentative clues to the existence of an ages old secret. A secret which threatens to re-write the history of the known world as well as the future destiny of mankind, they find themselves on a path they cannot help but follow.

  But to re-discover this long buried truth, they must search some of the world’s most ancient sites and seek clues contained within some of the oldest writings known to man.

  But there are those for whom keeping such secrets buried is not only a responsibility, but also a solemn duty. Powerful individuals who will apparently stop at nothing to protect the world as we know it from such things being found.’

  THE FLAMES OF TIME

  Chapter 7

  Stepping Stones

  Mkize was scrambling out, helped by some of the others, but there was no sight or sound of Harry from the abyss as I called out his name.

  The others had obviously seen that something was up, and had raced up to join me. I briefly explained what had happened. The earth around the hole we’d dug, and the gap that had now opened up into the cave, forming a steep sloping funnel.

  We sent Peter and the severely shaken Mkize to retrieve a rope and some torches from the camp, while the rest of us waited and continued to call after Harry.

  ‘I’m going to try and get down to the mouth of the hole, and see if I can see anything more from there,’ said Marlow.

  It was a good fifteen feet down, surrounded by loose and crumbling earth, and
with very little at the mouth to hold on to or stop yourself from sliding straight down into the darkness below. But by using one of the shovels as a makeshift tether, we managed to lower him most of the way, and he was just able to slide the last few feet and brace himself across the opening to see down into the hole.

  ‘Harry! Harry are you all right?’ Marlow was shouting into the cave. ‘I think I can just make him out. Yes he’s waving.’

  A moment later and Peter had arrived with the ropes and torches and we were inside and had found Harry, before the danger of what we were doing had even occurred to us. He’d obviously been winded, and he was holding his head as though that was the problem also. It made for a worrying minute or two not knowing how badly he was hurt, but after Jean offered him his dampened handkerchief and some fresh water he recovered enough to explain.

  Apparently in a graceful attempt to stop himself from sliding into the hole, he’d grabbed at his shovel, the handle of which had unfortunately swung round and hit him squarely between the eyes.

  Much relieved that it was only his ego which was seriously hurt, we helped him to his feet and started to look around the cave. It was a good fifty feet tall in places and at least half that again wide. As we lit more torches and were able to see further into the darkness, we began to realise just how much rock and earth was blocking the entrance. We could’ve spent weeks trying to dig our way in, even with the proper equipment, and still not managed it. The rock fall blocking the entrance was colossal.

  Realising how lucky we’d been, we turned back to the cave, which was fairly clear of debris, but at the same time was quite plain. The floor seemed to have a slight incline, down which a small stream of water flowed in a purpose built channel, before swelling to form a sizeable pool behind the natural damn of the rock fall. On closer inspection, both the dome of the chamber and the walls had obviously been worked, to give them a smooth and regular finish, whilst the floor seemed to have not only been smoothed, but also laid with expertly carved paving seamlessly incorporated into the bedrock of the walls.

  Checking that Harry was fit to walk, we moved up the incline toward a rectangular tunnel, which we could just make out at the back.

  ‘This is amazing workmanship, for an ancient structure,’ commented Harry, still holding Jean’s damp handkerchief to his brow. ‘I don’t know of another pre-mediaeval structure outside of Egypt that displays such geometric regularity.’

  The stream was partially paved-over in the tunnel, creating an almost stepping stone like effect, with glimpses of water between each step. But as the tunnel broadened out into a second cave, the channel once more became exposed, leading initially to a curious nine-sided pool in the middle of the room, lined in plain white stone. This pool was in turn fed by an identical channel on its opposite side, coming into the room through another tunnel.

  We must’ve been the first people to see these chambers in who knew how many hundreds or even thousands of years, yet the place seemed pristine. This second cave was slightly larger than the first, but seemed to show the same signs of human craftsmanship on the floor and ceiling. But as we moved further into the room and spread out around the central pool, our torches illuminated the walls, which were not only shaped and smoothed, but also carved into exquisite relief’s of figures, scenes and even writing. More striking still were the colours and ornamentation of these relief’s, rich ochre’s, reds and yellows intermixed with the brightest cobalt blue, black, and in places even gold leaf, as well as what may have been either precious stones or coloured glass.

  ‘That cannot be,’ said Harry walking over to the nearest wall, his aching head and handkerchief forgotten, ‘this is… Cuneiform lettering, in southern Africa. It can’t be, it just isn’t possible.’

  ‘Perhaps it was some remote colony or settlement, of which the archaeological world has yet to learn,’ suggested Jean helpfully.

  ‘No, no, you don’t understand Jean, this isn’t just slightly out of place, this is wholly out of place.’ responded Harry, never removing his eyes from the walls of the cave, ‘To find… Egyptian remains in such a place would rock the foundation of our understanding. Norse or even Dynastic Chinese, would all be outrageous, but all would somehow be more expected than this. This… not that I’m an expert, but… and the detail, such carving. It cannot be.’

  I could see Harry was completely overwhelmed, his gaze and out-stretched hands throwing fantastic shadows in the flickering torchlight as they moved back and forth across the wall as though not knowing where to start.

  We’d all been so distracted by the discovery of the wall and Harry’s response that I’d forgotten to keep track of how Marlow was reacting. I turned now to see if I could discern anything in his expression or manner which might give some insight into his thoughts, but he was no longer there.

  ‘Where’s Rob?’ I found myself asking before I realised.

  This returned everyone to the present, even Harry turned away from the carvings to look around.

  ‘I’m sure he was standing right beside me,’ said Peter.

  Jean dashed back through into the first cave to see if he was still in there, but returned a moment later without finding him.

  Realising he must have gone on, we tore ourselves away, and followed the stream into the next passage. Though identical in construction, this tunnel seemed much longer than the first, but eventually it opened out into a third chamber. This was also highly ornamented, the walls carved again into exquisite relief, and another central pool. But now with three tunnels leading off, further into the earth, each guarded as it were by a pair of intricately carved black obelisks the height of a man and covered from tip to base in more cuneiform.

  He could have gone down any of these tunnels, but there was only one which carried the channel and stream, and almost without hesitation we crossed the room and followed its stepping stone path, and calling out Marlow’s name. Again this tunnel seemed long, but as we neared its end, we could at last see the glow of Marlow’s torch.

  As the tunnel opened out, we stepped into a much larger cavern of warm shimmering light reflected from the surface of a large, clear and apparently completely natural pool, which sat in the middle of the cave. This cave was quite different to the earlier chambers we’d seen, and aside from the floor, which was still made up of that seamless paving, the dome and walls appeared to be simple un-worked rock.

  With relief I saw that Marlow was stood on the far side of the pool by an elegantly carved stone altar-block, which seemed to be the focal point of a ring of more black obelisks surrounding the pool. He looked up as we entered, and as though oblivious to our search, simply gestured us over to him.

  As we made our way around the pool and the obelisks, the reflected light from the water gave the entire cavern an almost naturally lit air. We’d noticed sconces to hold oil lamps, or some other means of illumination as we’d progressed through the caves and passages, and now as he passed another beside the pool, Jean stopped and managed to wedge his torch into it, to free his hands. Following his lead we each did the same at various other points around the cave.

  ‘It’s here, in this alter,’ continued Marlow, walking around the large carved piece of stone, ‘I’m sure of it. As soon as I set foot in this room I recognised it from my vision. And the map, I’m sure it lies here somewhere.’

  ‘Can we not break into it?’ enquired Peter, ‘Perhaps bring down one of the picks from outside.’

  ‘That may damage the map in some way,’ responded Marlow,’ while I know it’s in here, I have no idea what it could be made of or how fragile it may be. It could even comprise part of the fabric of the alter itself for all I know.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Harry, taking control of the situation,’ we need to find out how to open it, as it was intended to be opened. I suggest we start by washing it down. This is an ornate object and secret joins could easily be hidden amongst the multitude of detail, which might just be shown up by a little water.’

  ‘Might the
re not be some clue in the writings or carvings upon the walls in the other chambers?’ asked Jean.

  ‘Yes, that’s a good point,’ conceded Harry, ‘perhaps you and George could take a look while we start with the alter.’

  It suddenly struck me, as I was retracing my steps with Jean, back through the earlier chambers, that this was all getting very real. We were moving beyond the possibility that this could be a simple co-incidence, or lucky find, and rapidly toward the confirmation of Marlow’s vision as a very tangible and objectively verified reality.

  We’d gone back to the original ante-chamber which Harry had literally fallen into, and stopping briefly to let Mkize and the others know we were going to be some time, we started to search each room methodically.

  As we were finishing in the second chamber having found no sign of altars or maps amongst the various carvings, I turned to Jean to voice my misgivings.

  ‘I also share your growing confusion in this matter George,’ he responded with a degree of resignation in his voice. ‘Robert is amongst my closest of friends, but I tell you openly and without hesitation, that I considered this vision and our journey to be no more than a fanciful dream, invented by an unconscious mind whilst under the influence of a powerful narcotic.

  ‘A narcotic which we all took, though with differing results. But I look upon this ancient structure,’ he said, reaching out and touching one of the exquisitely carved relief figures, ‘and the boulders, which have blocked its entrance for centuries, and I cannot explain how this could enter into a man’s dreams through the medium of a drug.