The Nyctalope Steps In

by Jean de La Hire

  They were escorted to the last cell on the left, the only one which wasn’t already occupied.

  “Captain Flynn will be along shortly,” Tyler said as locked them in. “He’ll get you patched up. He’s a doctor.”

  “And he approves of this? Treating these people like criminals? Like cattle?”

  Tyler sighed. He was a young man, but in that moment he seemed far older. “Listen, pal,” he said. “We don’t like this anymore than you do. We’re just trying to get a handle on this thing. You should get off of your high horse.”

  Quatermass seemed to soften at this, but he didn’t reply. Tyler gestured for his men to follow and he retreated down the passage. Leo looked after him for a moment, then turned his attention to the adjacent cell.

  Standing at the door, gripping the bars in enormous hands, was one of the biggest men he had ever seen. He estimated the fellow to be almost 2 meters and 110 kilos of solid muscle. He was dressed in dirty coveralls that were identical to the ones worn by the killer in the desert. He stared back at Leo with a look of bemused indifference. Leo acknowledged him with a nod, which the man returned.

  Behind the big man, lying in one of the bunks, was the shape of another, somewhat smaller man. This fellow forced himself up and squinted at Leo through bleary eyes, which suddenly widened in amazement.

  “Professor,” he said, his voice a papery whisper. “Is that you, sir?”

  “Jeff!” said Quatermass, pressing himself against the bars. “Jeff Stuart, thank God! What’s happened in this place?”

  “It was…” Stuart coughed and cleared his throat. His head was tightly wrapped in a bandage and Leo could see specks of red where the blood had seeped through. “It was the…artifact. I’m not sure that I should discuss…”

  Quatermass rolled his eyes. “Jeff, we don’t have time to be circumspect. Please speak plainly. Was there something in the vessel? Something that caused all this destruction?”

  Artifact? Leo thought. Vessel?

  Stuart’s eyes moved back and forth from the big man to Leo, and he appeared to come to a decision. “All right,” he said. “It hardly matters now. We—that is, me and a team of miners—we doubled the power to the shaft where the ship was discovered. We were trying to drill open what appeared to be a sealed compartment. Suddenly, the surface we were working at just…crumbled away.” He fell into another fit of coughing.

  Quatermass impatiently waited for him to recover himself. “And what did you see?”

  “The pilots,” Stuart replied, his parched voice laden with awe and horror. “They looked like locusts, about three feet long I should say. Their bodies began to decay as soon as the air hit them.”

  “Oh, Christ,” Leo said. It was not an oath but an appeal. “Oh, dear Lord, no.”

  The others turned to him, surprised. He locked eyes with Stuart. “The power started to drain, didn’t it?” Leo asked him. “The lights began to flicker, and then you heard the roaring, didn’t you?”

  Stuart gawked at him. “Yes,” he said. “The miners broke and ran, and a second later so did I. I barely remember making to the surface, but then…”

  “But then it was too late to stop it,” Leo finished. “Tell the truth: Did it affect you?”

  “No, but there were others…”

  “What in God’s name are you two on about?” Quatermass growled.

  Leo ignored him. “How long did the effect last?” he asked Stuart.

  “I can’t be sure. Once I was on the surface, I only had time to make it to a phone and call OSI before I was attacked. I was trying to tell Forbes what was happening when one of the miners threw a hammer….no....he didn’t throw it…he sent it…”

  “Don’t focus on that,” Leo said. “I need to know what stopped the process. Something had to, or some of these soldiers would be affected. Can you tell me what did that?”

  “I’m glad to see you’re up and about, Doctor Stuart,” someone said. The men turned to see a pale, red-haired officer dressed in fatigues and toting a medical bag. He was accompanied by two soldiers Leo had not seen before. “I’m Captain Flynn,” the officer said with a friendly smile, “but I’d rather you called me Doctor.”

  One of the soldiers unlocked Leo’s cell and Flynn walked straight to Quatermass, whom he gently pushed to one of the bunks. “Don’t let me stop you fellows,” he said as he examined the Professor’s wounds. “Just keep talking as if I weren’t here. It sounds like a fascinating conversation.”

  Leo half-admired the man’s nonchalant approach, but he didn’t have the patience for games. He turned back to Jeff and said: “Well, you heard him. Let’s keep going. Can you answer my question?”

  Stuart shook his head and shrugged. “I’m sorry, but all I can remember is being found by a team of soldiers and brought here.”

  “I think I know what stopped it,” the big man interjected, breaking his silence. “I think it was me.”

  “How?” Leo asked.

  “I wrecked the generator feeding power to the exploration shaft. There were bolts of electricity flashing out of it like lightning and it seemed to be drawing power off everything at the site. I didn’t know what else to do but go at it with a sledge hammer.”

  Leo smiled. “The Gordian knot approach,” he said.

  “I don’t know what that is,” the man said. “But I know that roaring I was hearing stopped.”

  “Did the people who were affected immediately return to normal?” Leo asked. There was hope in his voice, which was crushed as he watched the big man slowly shake his head.

  “Whatever it was, it had gotten too deep into them. They started to…they started to die…drop like flies. But not before they’d done one hell of a lot of damage.”

  “That may explain some of my findings,” Flynn said without looking up from his ministrations. “I’ve already examined three subjects whose hearts burst within their chests. I’ve never seen anything like it before. It’s really pretty amazing.”

  Leo thought Flynn was pretty amazing himself. He sounded as if he were talking about an interesting new variation on the common cold.

  “There, now,” the doctor said to Quatermass as he finished dressing his wounds. “It wasn’t as bad as it looked. You should be yourself again no time.”

  “I don’t anticipate being myself for quite some time to come,” Quatermass said with a scowl. “Wait, what’s in that syringe? Don’t you dare—ouch! Confound you! What the Hell did you just… “

  “Just something to help you rest. You’ll thank me for it later.”

  “I sincerely doubt that,” Quatermass growled, his voice already growing thick. Struggling mightily against the sedative, he turned his heavy eyes to Leo. “What is your connection with this horror? How do you…know so much…about it?”

  “I’ve seen something like it before,” Leo said.

  “Where?” the Professor asked.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  Quatermass tried to respond, but merely collapsed into the bunk with a sigh.

  “What about me?” Flynn asked. He stepped out of the cell and closed the door. He dismissed the soldiers and turned to Leo. “I think you would be surprised at what I am prepared to believe,” the doctor said. “When the OSI called Fort Ord, we were immediately sent here to investigate, but there was nothing to prepare us for what we’ve found. On the surface, it looks like an epidemic of insanity, followed by wholesale slaughter and mass suicide.”

  “On the surface…” Leo said.

  “Yes,” Flynn said, “but there’s obviously a lot more to it than that. We’re aware of Dr. Stuart’s extraordinary find—his OSI friends were very forthcoming—but its relationship with these events is unclear to say the least. I would be very grateful if you would share with me what you know.”

  “There’s only one thing I can share with you that matters,” Leo said. He pointed at Stuart. “The thing that this man was examining is incredibly dangerous and must be destroyed as soon as possibl
e.”

  Flynn shook his head. “You know that’s not going to happen. There are scientists on the way here right now who simply cannot wait to get into the bottom of that mine. We might be able to stall them, but we can’t blow up their prize. Not unless you give me something to work with…”

  Leo sighed. “All right,” he said, “The object in the mine is a rocket-ship from Mars. If that ship is exposed to an electrical power source, it will release an energy wave that affects the minds of certain people exposed to it.”

  “Certain people,” Flynn said, “but not everyone. Why is that?”

  Leo clenched his teeth. “There’s no way to explain it that doesn’t sound completely absurd. Can’t you just take my word that the damn thing needs to…to…” Leo closed his eyes. The clawing had begun again and the pain was building like the prelude to a volcanic eruption. “It needs to stay buried,” he whispered. “Look at what it’s done, at what it can do. Look at all the blood…”

  “I believe you,” Flynn said, and Leo opened his eyes to meet the doctor’s level gaze.

  “Do you?” Leo said, incredulous.

  “Yes, but I need more information if I’m going to…”

  “No!” Leo said. “If all of this death won’t convince you fools, then how can anything I say make a difference!” He turned his back to Flynn and braced himself against the far wall. He took several deep breaths and the pain began to recede. After a moment, he glanced over his shoulder, but Doctor Flynn was gone.

  The military occupation of the town of Carmelita had been hastily code-named “Operation Lockdown,” which Lord thought was accurate, if not particularly original.

  The commanding officer was one Lt. Col. Jack Evans, a tough but amiable man’s man in the classic mold. Lord was delighted, though not surprised, to find the Colonel almost as pliant and eager to please as Vincenzo. Contrary to the views of his many detractors, Lord was actually quite fond of military types. He felt that their rigorous discipline predisposed them to the sort of blind obedience that he valued in subordinates. There were, of course, always a few stubborn exceptions, but they tended to be individuals who had been trained in dealing with a person of his uniquely persuasive qualities.

  “I hope you find those reports helpful, sir,” Evans said, interrupting Lord’s musings. Lord, mildly annoyed, glanced up from the papers he had been perusing. Evans and Vincenzo were seated across from him in high-backed chairs of wine-red leather. Lord himself was comfortably ensconced behind an expansive desk that had apparently belonged to a judge, now presumably deceased.

  “Please do not speak unless you are spoken to, Colonel,” he said. He saw the man’s jaw clench and took it as a warning. It was a sign that a part of him was chafing under Lord’s authority, and that was no good at all. He stared deeply into Evans’s eyes and said: “This report is clear, succinct, and does you great credit. I consider it a pleasure to be working with an officer of such obvious intelligence.”

  Evans blinked. “Why…um…thank you very much, sir.”

  “No need to thank me,” Lord continued. “I am sure that a man of your wisdom and insight understands that the only way this operation will be a success is if you do exactly as I say without question. Any resistance to my will would result in a complete disaster. Do you understand?”

  There was a nagging, pestilential doubt lurking behind Evans’s eyes. Lord saw it and focused on it. “Do you understand?” he repeated.

  The doubt withered, died, and Evans was his. “I understand completely,” the Colonel said. “You can depend on me and my men, sir.”

  “Excellent,” Lord said. “Now, according to what you’ve written, the first man on the scene, this Doctor Stuart of the OSI, was convinced that the object at the mine was of extraterrestrial origin and that it was responsible for this outbreak of violence.”

  “That is correct, sir.”

  “Has he been thoroughly questioned?”

  “Not by me. He’s been fading in and out of consciousness since he was picked up.”

  “I want to speak to him as soon as he is fit for interrogation.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Lord dropped the report on the desk. “It also says that you are awaiting further authorization before attempting to approach the object yourself.”

  “Yes, sir” Evans affirmed. “Considering what’s already occurred, I think that extreme caution…”

  Lord cut him off with a wave of his hand. “I am giving you that authorization right now. I want every available man dispatched to the mine and applying their full efforts to the excavation of that object. I’ll be expecting regular reports on their progress.”

  Evans flinched. “Certainly, sir, but what if the men fall under the influence of whatever it was that affected…”

  “Oh, don’t be concerned about that. As soon as access to the object has been restored, tell the men to withdraw to a safe distance and inform me immediately. I will come to the scene and take command personally. I have some very specific ideas about what took place here and I am certain that I can handle whatever we may find.”

  Evans stood up and saluted. “I’ll start the operation at once, sir,” he said, and marched out of the office.

  “Would you like me to join him, sir?” Vincenzo asked.

  Lord considered it, then nodded. “Be careful, Top,” he said to the Master Sergeant. “I would hate to lose you. You’re a very useful minion.”

  Vincenzo swelled with pride. It wasn’t every day that one received such praise.

  “May I escort you out?” Lord asked. “I have to retrieve something from my…vehicle.”

  “It would be an honor, sir”

  “I know.”

  Flynn was exiting the stairwell on the floor where Lt. Col. Evans, his commanding officer, had set up HQ, when he was met with a surprising sight.

  Stepping out of the judge’s office that Evans had commandeered was Vincenzo and a sharp-dressed civilian with a jutting chin and confident stride that said, power, or, lacking that, arrogance. Something told Flynn to hang back, and long years of practice at listening to helpful somethings kept him behind the corner as a hidden observer. Flynn was astonished when, just as the men were about to step into the elevator at the far end of the hall, the civilian reached over and absent-mindedly gave Vincenzo a pat on the head. Knowing Top fairly well, Flynn braced himself for the inevitable explosion, but instead Vincenzo…blushed.

  The elevator door had been closed for several seconds before Flynn recovered from the shock enough to propel himself forward into the office. He had hoped Evans might be present and ready with an explanation for the bizarre scene, but the room was empty. Flynn glanced around and his eye fell on a blackboard in the corner of the room. It was covered with small, neat handwriting that he was certain had not been there when he met with Evans briefly an hour or so before. Flynn walked over to the board and read:

  ANALOGOUS EVENTS – RELATED? UNRELATED?

  1968. Piedmont, Arizona. Extraterrestrial microbe

  1973. Evans City, Pennsylvania. Biological weapon

  1982. Snowfield, California. Intelligence(?); possibly amoeboid; shoggoth?

  1995. Desperation, Nevada. Intelligence; Tak? Tak=Sutekh? Unlikely

  Most Likely: Arizona incident; so-called “Andromeda Strain” variant. Could be very useful

  Beneath this last, the writer had whimsically added a doodle of a smiley face. Flynn stared at words. Their meaning was both obvious and electrifying: He was looking at a timeline of events that hadn’t yet taken place. He was tempted to dismiss it as insanity, but he had learned long ago that what many would deem impossible was, to certain people, merely commonplace.

  Many years before, when he was a small boy living in Hell’s Kitchen, Flynn had met two such persons. One was a grim avenger who called himself the Shadow. The other was the man who had inspired Flynn to become a doctor; a brilliant and flamboyant man who called himself Sâr Dubnotal.

  Suddenly, Lord opened the door and w
as intensely displeased to find the young officer studying his notes. “Who are you and what are doing here?” Lord demanded. He was surprised when the fellow snapped about and, in a smooth but lightning-fast motion, drew his sidearm and brought it to bear on Lord’s head.

  “I’d like to ask you the same question,” Flynn said. Despite his aggressive stance, his voice was calm, even friendly.

  Lord scanned the man’s uniform for his name and rank, found them, and smiled warmly. “Captain Flynn,” he said, “there’s no need to be so hostile. I’m Agent Lord of the FBI. I’ve assumed control of this operation.”

  “I hope you’ll forgive me if I wait to hear that from the Colonel himself.”

  “I assure you,” Lord said, staring at Flynn intently, “that you can take my word for it.”

  “No doubt, but for the time being could you please keep your hands where I can see them?”

  Lord scowled. “Captain, before this charade goes any further, I think I should define the terms of our relationship: I am the Master, and you will obey me.”

  Flynn blinked a few times, and burst out laughing. “I heard you feds could be cocky, but this is really the limit. You’re the ‘Master?’ Give me a break!”

  Lord chuckled and shrugged and decided that Flynn would not leave the room alive. He had encountered humans before who could resist his influence, but never someone who didn’t seem to feel it at all. It was entirely too dangerous, and infuriating, to be countenanced.

  “I’ll admit that was a bit over the top,” Lord said. “Perhaps we can start over again. Would you like to see my identification?” He began reaching inside of his coat. Concealed there was a device called a Tissue Compression Eliminator, a weapon with which he could treat Flynn to a swift but agonizing death.

  “If you move that hand another inch, I’ll blow your brains out,” Flynn said.

  Lord, silently cursing, raised his hand. “Captain, I must warn you that when I report your behavior to Colonel Evans, he will no doubt…”

  “Colonel Evans would never have ceded command to a civilian authority without informing every senior officer on site. Who are you really?”