THAT DARN SQUID GOD

by Nick Pollotta

  A deep and peaceful topaz blue, the Caribbean Sea was smooth and calm. Not a wave broke the surface. No breeze disturbed the perfect serenity of the marine expanse.

  Then a tiny bubble rose from the cool depths to pop on the surface. More bubbles came next: larger, louder, dozens, hundreds, thousands, millions, until the sea was roiling wildly - a churning, thrashing chowder of primordial frenzy.

  Shifting, the salty blue began to move around a central axis, swirling about faster and faster to form a whirlpool. Building in power and speed, the sides of the whirlpool sharply rose as the middle descended, going all the way down through the murky depths of the tumultuous sea. Schools of fish raced from the area in terror, and even the clouds seemed to balk, being in awe of the rampaging eddy on display.

  Exactly on cue, the horizon heaved upward, and a tidal wave crested into view with the tiny screaming figures of Professor Einstein and Lord Carstairs still riding atop the impromptu Italian tsunami.

  The roaring wave rushed towards the rumbling whirlpool, and then roughly whipped forward to cast the two men down into the gaping maw of the aquatic storm. Tumbling head over heels, Einstein and Carstairs could only stare in wonder as they became ensconced in darkness, and hurtled down the funnel of the stentorian whirlpool.

  "Professor, I do believe that this is the Bermuda Triangle!" Lord Carstairs bellowed in surprise.

  "That would also be my estimation, lad!" Professor Einstein yelled over the sea and wind.

  "We made bloody good time!"

  "Indubitably!"

  Dimly seen below the plummeting men, strange mists started to form at the rocky bottom. Savage lightning crackled from out of nowhere in a pyrotechnic explosion of color and pain as Einstein and Carstairs entered the thickening clouds. Bracing themselves for a shattering impact, the explorers were surprised to still be falling, ever falling, far beyond any possible sea depth.

  Now they noticed that the whirlpool was gone, having been replaced by the swirling clouds. The professor and the lord slowly realized that their angle of flight had shifted. They were no longer going down, but flying sideways, ever building in speed as lightning crashed around them in an oddly familiar manner.

  "By Gadfrey, lad, this is a transdimensional vortex!" Professor Einstein cried, losing a shoe. "It must be the secret entrance to Dutar Island!"

  "Exactly the same as in the Vatican!" Carstairs shouted in delight. Cupping both hands to his mouth, the lord turned to bellow at the sky. "Oh I must say, well done, Captain van der Decken! Good show!"

  "Sailors always pay their debts, lad! The Dutch doubly so!"

  "Righto, sir!"

  Now joyfully hurtling through the magical maelstrom, Einstein and Carstairs noticed that the mists were changing into a strobing tunnel of blue light. But the further they proceeded, the more difficult it became to breathe. A bitter chill swept over the men, and ice formed on their damp clothing. Suddenly, they began to move apart, the gap widening with every passing second.

  "Benjamin, we're caught in an ethereal drift!" Professor Einstein cried in desperation, fighting a shiver. "Captain van der Decken knew the doorway, but only you have seen our destination: the temple of the Squid God! Concentrate, lad! Use your mind to guide us there!"

  Scowling darkly, the freezing lord threw every facility of his prodigious mind to the task. Almost instantly, the mists ahead of the men began to thin. Einstein and Carstairs discovered themselves moving to the left along a horizontal tornado of wind and thunder that stretched off to an impossible distance.

  Appearing at the extreme far end of the ethereal force tube was a black castle situated on top of an icy mountain. A dozen robed figures were moving around the misty edifice of evil. One of them was wearing robes of blood red and a golden mask shaped like a screaming squid.

  There could be no doubt as to the identity of the masked man. Facing their true enemy at last, without question or pause, Professor Einstein and Lord Carstairs drew their handguns and opened fire at the High Priest. Several of the robed servants clutched their chests and fell off the mountain peak, but the High Priest only recoiled at the sight of the two explorers running out of the stormy sky.

  "You!" the High Priest screeched, pointing a finger, as the rest of the Squid God worshipers dove for cover.

  As Professor Einstein and Lord Carstairs paused to reload, the High Priest raised an ebony staff crackling with energy. Taking a dramatic stance, the High Priest started intoning a spell while Einstein and Carstairs commenced firing and running once more. Thunder crashed as the weapons discharged. The glowing staff was nicked by a bullet, the ricochet cracking a stone step near the priest's sandals. Then a small round zinged off the golden mask, as a large caliber bullet grazed the High Priest's shoulder. Blood sprayed from the wound.

  Leaning on the staff, the High Priest sagged. Professor Einstein and Lord Carstairs cheered in victory as they reloaded on the run, and then started firing as fast as possible. Twice more the High Priest was hit. He sagged to a knee, dislodging the golden mask. As it fell away, the High Priest faced the men directly, with a trickle of blood flowing from his contorted mouth.

  "Son of a bitch!" Lord Carstairs shouted, waving the Webley about to disperse its smoke before shooting again.

  "You traitorous little bastard!" Professor Einstein bellowed, out of control in his rage.

  Lifting himself painfully with the ebony staff, William Henry Owen spit a curse at the two explorers, his words swallowed by the howling wind and never-ending lightning.

  Surging forward with renewed speed, Einstein and Carstairs focused their weapons on the High Priest and Owen was hit twice more before the rest of the Squid God worshipers rushed forward to form a living wall around their priest.

  "A nice try, Professor!" Owen screamed above the strident storm, making a rude gesture. "But now it's time to die, Christian fools!"

  Stoic as grenadiers, the British explorers replied with a flurry of gunfire.

  Sneering triumphantly, Owen waved his staff, which pulsed with power. The nimbus of light expanded to fill the universe. In a twinkling of colors, the transdimensional tube vanished, and Professor Einstein and Lord Carstairs found themselves unexpectedly falling from the empty sky.

  On the horizon, the black castle was gone, replaced by a range of tall mountains and a dense forest that were coming towards the explorers at a frightening speed.

  "Try for the lake!" Lord Carstairs screamed, spotting a flash of blue amid the dense greenery. Extending his arms, the lord started flapping madly, and incredibly he moved slightly to the right. By jingo, it's working! "Go limp! It'll soften the impact!"

  If there was a response from Professor Einstein, it was lost, as seconds later the men painfully crashed into a thick layer of leafy boughs, punching straight through to hit the crystal clear water. With a tremendous splash, they went below the surface, closely followed by an avalanche of broken tree branches. Crashing waves crested high on the icy water, and ripples spread out to the rocky shore. But soon the lake was serene once more, and displayed no signs whatsoever of its uninvited guests.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The body lay sprawled on the sloping bank of the mountain lake: a motionless figure covered with mud, kelp, and wind-blown leaves.

  Groaning as if he were an experiment of some crazed German scientist coming to life for the first time, Lord Carstairs stiffly rose from a watery depression in the sandy ground. Every inch of his body felt bruised, and there was a nasty dirty copper metallic taste in his mouth, as if he had been sucking on a halfpenny.

  Gingerly, the lord felt about and discovered that the source of the blood was a badly split lip. It was uncomfortable, but hardly life-threatening.

  Standing painfully, Carstairs glanced around. He was situated alongside a small lake, standing in a Lord-Carstairs-sized hole in the mud. Extending over the lake, there was a ragged hole in the leafy canopy of tree branches that went all the way through to show a clear sky. The details of his arrival came f
lashing back. The lord flinched at the memory of his landing. It was a miracle that he was still alive. The trees must have slowed his descent just enough to let him survive the impact into the lake. Having seen the famous cliff-divers of Mexico, Lord Carstairs knew that from a great enough height, a person would splatter when he hit the water, as if the liquid was solid stone. Very nasty.

  Hawking to clear his mouth, the lord now noticed a most unpleasant buzzing noise mixing with the sounds of the forest. Hornets? No, wait, that was somebody snoring.

  "Professor?" Lord Carstairs called out hesitantly.

  The buzzing abruptly stopped. There came a rustling of leaves and a nearby bush shook as Einstein clumsily rose into view.

  "God's navel, we survived!" the professor muttered, holding the side of his head. "How are you doing, lad?"

  "Damaged, but alive, sir," Carstairs replied, gingerly feeling for broken bones under the mud and leaves covering his arms. "Apparently, that Owen fellow was able to disperse the vortex prematurely."

  "Prematurely for us," Professor Einstein wheezed, removing some kelp from his head. "Although…" Glancing downward, the man went pale, and screamed.

  Charging forward, the lord caught a glimpse of a pink professor ducking out of view. "What is it, sir?" Carstairs demanded, and then suddenly realized that the mud was falling away to reveal that he was stark naked.

  "Bugger!" Lord Carstairs cried as he dived back into the prickly bushes.

  "This must be an unfortunate side effect of leaving the vortex before reaching its end destination," the voice of Professor Einstein postulated from somewhere amid the greenery.

  "Sir, we could get arrested for this!"

  "If there are any police to do so, lad."

  Staying low amid the bushes, Carstairs gave the matter some thought. "That's true. I did not see any signs of civilization as we were falling and I am unable to identify any of the plants near us."

  Pulling a leaf free, Einstein examined it closely. "This bush resembles an elderberry, but it's wrong. Too thick, too dark."

  Doing a brief study of the local flora, Lord Carstairs was forced to admit that all of the dense vegetation about them was strange. The carpeting of grass was more like moss, and jungle vines hung from trees resembling a combination of oak and juniper.

  "This whole place feels…different," Einstein added, after a long tense moment.

  "Originally, I had attributed that to my lack of trousers," Carstairs said dryly. "But now I think it rather more likely that the island of Dutar is not hidden inside the Bermuda Triangle, but in some distant place. The Triangle is merely the gateway. Quite possibly, it's a land where even Her Majesty's forces have yet to penetrate."

  "Sound reasonable," Professor Einstein said, pulling more kelp away from a most inappropriate location. "Unfortunately, that means we are truly on our own."

  "Quite so, Professor," Carstairs called back. "Then we had best get to work!"

  ***

  A few hours later, the explorers emerged from the bushes dressed in simple grass skirts, hats of woven weeds, and treebark sandals. Professor Einstein also carried three stones bound by lengths of tree vine into a crude South American bolo, along with a rough stone dagger. Lord Carstairs was armed with a primitive boomerang and a stout tree branch with the bark removed: a most formidable club.

  "Borneo?" Professor Einstein asked, surveying the throwing stick.

  "Australia," Lord Carstairs corrected, holding it for display. "Simple and deadly at fifty yards. I developed a knack for the things while investigating the hidden rooms inside Ayers Rock. Oh, I say, nice dagger."

  "Thank you. The first thing my old archeological master insisted on was our learning how to knap stone tools," the professor said with a touch of pride, offering the razor-sharp weapon for inspection. "I could not find any flint, only some low-grade quartz to work with, but it will suffice for the nonce."

  "Should have made one for myself," the lord said wistfully, returning the blade. "Perhaps later, eh?"

  Carefully sliding the blade into the vine hem of his skirt, Einstein inhaled deeply through his nose and held the breath. The forest air smelled of pine, elderberry, cedar, and fresh animal droppings. How lovely to be back in the woods again! A majestic range of mountains edged the horizon, most of them snow-capped, although one was smoking in the manner of a sleeping volcano. By Gadfrey, just how large a landmass is Dutar Island?

  "Now the question is, which direction do we take?" Professor Einstein queried aloud, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

  Dropping to a knee, Carstairs carefully studied the crumpled markings in the muddy shoreline. Then, standing tall, he peered upwards at the damage in the treetops. "Well, sir," he said slowly, testing each word for flaws, "if there is any correlation between the angle of the fall and our original trajectory, then I would venture to guess that we might head in the direction of that singular mountain." He pointed with the club.

  Looking in the indicated direction, Professor Einstein saw that the mountain was noticeably taller than the rest, and the only one not capped with snow or alive with volcanic steam. However, the dark stone of the peak appeared to be black as coal. Just like the mountain peak of the temple of the Squid God. Bingo! As my Catholic friends like to say.

  "That does seem to be our goal, lad," Einstein agreed, hitching up his skirt. "If it's a clear night, hopefully we will be able to determine where we are, from the stars."

  "Then we should be off," Lord Carstairs said, lifting his hefty weapon and taking the lead along a natural path through the thick bushes. " Tempus fugit !"

  "You can say that again," the professor grumbled, taking up the rear guard.

  ***

  Surrounded by a tapestry of greenery, a sphinx sat atop a grassy knoll and hungrily viewed the approaching human morsels. People lost in the forest were a beacon to her senses, and she could not have resisted coming to them if she tried. How delightful the aroma of their fear! How satisfying the anticipated crunch of their bones! How convenient their clothing for flossing! Although the sphinx did notice that these poor bastards were pretty much dressed in leaves and weeds. Ah well, it will not hurt to have a bit of salad with my lunch. Diet is so very important.

  Striving for maximum effect, the sphinx waited until the humans were just about to reach her clearing, and then jumped straight up into the air. Seconds after, as they exited the bushes, she landed directly in front of them with a ground-shaking thump.

  "Halt!" the sphinx roared, raising a paw.

  In utter amazement, Professor Einstein and Lord Carstairs stared at the huge sphinx filling the clearing. Built along classic lines, the being had the head and breasts of a beautiful woman atop the body of a lion with a serpent's tail, and a pair of great white wings fluttering from her wide shoulders. Most definitely a mammalian female! Thankfully, there was a golden breastplate covering her ample bosom. The sphinx stood a good ten yards tall and some twenty yards long and, while her voice was quite loud, it was also remarkably pleasant.

  As circumspectly as possible, the professor leaned over and whispered, "I am beginning to believe that the vortex might have taken us a bit further than we had first suspected."

  "Quite," the lord replied. "But then, perhaps this is the true home of…you know what."

  "Indeed so, lad, you may have struck upon the truth with that theory."

  "Thank you, sir."

  Twitching her haunches and flexing her talons, the sphinx frowned unhappily. These mortals were surprised, but the heady aroma of terror was blatantly absent. An angry growl began to well within her throat. That would soon change!

  "Greetings, humans!" she boomed. "What are two nearly naked men doing in my forest?"

  "We're lost," Einstein answered promptly. "And what are your next two questions?"

  Her hackles rising, the sphinx spit in ill-controlled rage, the tiny globule of moisture hissing through rock and soil.

  "Impudent toads!" she snarled, both mighty breasts heaving. "Very w
ell! What walks on four legs in the morning?"

  "Man," Carstairs interrupted.

  Blinking hard, the sphinx gave a long pause. "You have heard these before?" she finally asked.

  "Yes," the professor replied, turning away. "That is three for three. Goodbye."

  "HOLD!" the giant sphinx thundered, blocking their path with a paw the size of a divan. "You must now ask me three questions, and, if I can answer them all, then death is your reward."

  Turning their backs on the female monster, the two explorers quickly conferred for a moment.

  "Question number one," Lord Carstairs said, turning around once more. "In terms we can easily understand, please detail to us exactly and precisely, in increasing orders of magnitude, where we are currently located."

  The sphinx frowned at that. This was clearly not the sort of thing she normally encountered. "Ah, well, hmm, you are in the forest of Woodmote, in the satrap of Quithshard, in the county of Hixlap, in the country of Kooopashtahl…" The sphinx began to sweat, as this question could literally take forever to answer! "…on the continent of Dutar, on the world of Lurth, in the orbit of the star Pol, in the third spiral arm of the galaxy 3457J9, which is in the pocket dimension of magic, which is…"

  "Wait!" the professor cried, raising a palm. "Elucidate on that last bit, and you can stop." It was not a question.

  With a sigh of relief, the sphinx accepted the alteration. "This is the dimension where magic rules, not the laws of physical science. Despite the fundamental difference in its basic construction, the only real deviation is that, here, time flows twice as fast as anywhere else."

  In dire consternation, Einstein and Carstairs exchanged glances. They now knew why the Squid God had retreated to this dimension. Recuperating from its wounds here, the beast had only been asleep for two thousand years, not four thousand. Unfortunately, it also meant that it wasn't five days until the rebirth, but two and a half. Maybe less.

  "Question two," Lord Carstairs said hurriedly, shifting his grip on the wooden boomerang. "In an easily comprehensible manner, give us the exact location of the being that we seek, known to us as the Squid God."