by Tim Wellman
"You're supposed to feel sorry when you hear my sob story, and give me money," Kato said. She let out a loud laugh. "Maybe my charm doesn't work on the rich. I should have lied and said he raped me every night, too."
"Still wouldn't have worked," Carlisle said. "And I wish you'd stop saying we're rich. I'm not rich. Wonder boy, there, was, once upon a gin bottle, but now he borrows money from me most of the time. Those leather patches cost me a day's pay." She grabbed Kato's cape and stopped her. "The lizards with wings?"
Stevenson was holding some sort of instrument up in the air and reading the dial. It held his interest and he seemed to not hear the conversation around him.
"Anthropologist, right?" Kato said. "You've heard about gargoyles, then? The grotesques on top of ancient buildings in Europe."
Carlisle nodded. "So, these are more gargoyle statues?"
"Hey, there's a definite trace of sulfur in the air," Stevenson said, as if he had just awoke from a dream. "That's curious, don't you think? Must be some sort of underground vents or something close by. Carbon Monoxide, too; where the hell is that coming from?" He put the instrument back in his pocket. "What were you guys talking about?"
"I think these statues perv boy, here, found, represent the same thing," Kato said. "Living creatures from deep in the earth, maybe. Maybe they were known in Europe because of the volcanoes there giving them a way out."
"Guardians of hell?" Stevenson said, as he felt around in his pocket. "Hey, my demon is gone."
"Well, if they can infest an area, it's best not to take it home, anyway," Carlisle said. "Get a puppy."
"If you want more, just go into any basement or dark alley around here," Kato said, and took another puff of her pipe. "Damned things are everywhere."
"Which poses a question," Carlisle said. "If they're demons, how are they doing so well living out here in the real world?"
"You're expecting them to be red and carry pitchforks?" Stevenson said. "Besides, our witch here said they were demons."
"Actually, I didn't," she said. She looked up in the sky. "What do you see when you look up?"
Neither was able to answer her. It seemed an ill-formed question. "The universe?" Carlisle said.
"Nope," Kato said. "You see nothing, only the reflections and refractions of light from the breath of every creature who has ever existed on the planet, living, and dead. And light has no physical mass. Nothing." She chuckled. "You see nothing but breaths that encase the planet; they facilitate form sometimes, build clouds, but the breaths remain intact."
She let the sentence stand without further explanation and took another cherry flavored puff from her pipe. Carlisle wasn't terribly interested in what she was saying, anyway. It was either complete nonsense, or so profound she would never understand it, so it didn't matter to her. "Well, that cleared things up," she said. "Ask her why the sky is blue."
"Every disease and every immunity is floating around up there, and right here," Kato continued, as she held out an opened hand. "It's magic, but it's also science yet to be understood. Cures and potions are simply a matter of picking items that attract the right breath." She smiled. "You see? I'm rarely called upon for real witchcraft; I am a compounder of breaths; my knowledge of the old ways is what earns my pay. If someone has a disease, it's simply a matter of finding the breath that was immune to it. So, if you know what potion or herb attracts what breath, you can cure anything."
Carlisle smacked Stevenson on the arm with the back of her hand. "I'm not sure I can put up with this for long; pick up the pace." She noticed a slight smile on the lips of Auntie Kato. "What are those things, then, if not demons?"
"Those things live a long time, maybe forever, but they live, just like us. Calling them demons puts them above us, makes them special." She smiled and started walking in the direction they had been heading. "But they're really just nasty little shits trying to survive just like the rest of us. People have said the same thing about me."
Carlisle smiled and motioned Stevenson to start walking and they caught up with their mysterious little partner and headed toward the university on the good side of town.
-6-
Shopping At The Shop
"Wow, you made all of this stuff?" Kato said. She walked around Stevenson's workshop, picking up various small items: clocks, tools, clockwork games. She seemed honestly impressed, nodding her approval. "Not bad at all!"
The shop was a huge metal building as big as a gymnasium, and part of the university, so it contained every tool imaginable, and the space was needed for smaller airships and trucks and various heavy machinery. They maintained the fleet of city vehicles as well as heavy machinery the university used on trips into the wastelands surrounding the town. Stevenson's machinist's skills were what allowed him to keep his job despite his questionable habits and reliability.
"Yeah, always amazes me how such an otherwise complete idiot can do this kind of work," Carlisle said.
"Hey, enough compliments already!" he said. "I'll get a big head!" He picked up a wrench and hung it back in its proper place on the wall. "I do all the smaller stuff myself; some of these bigger things, the truck and steam engines, the air bikes and planes, those take a team of students helping me."
"This might be a silly question," Carlisle said, "but what do we actually need to take? I've got my small camera and notepad... a gun, basic survival kit."
"I've got my cape loaded with everything I need," Kato said.
"We'll probably need more substantial weapons," he said. He looked at Kato. "Will a flamethrower drive the little creatures away?"
She nodded. "They don't like fire or water. But, if it's really the Hellsgate, we'll need something to break through the door and probably some inner walls. And beyond that, I'm not sure."
"Like a rock pick for the door?" Carlisle said.
"The documents report is as being six inches thick," Kato said. "It was open when they originally found it, but they closed it shut after they came out. So, picks to make holes, and maybe some log splitters to drive into the holes."
"See, this is why we need a witch!" Stevenson said. "She knows this stuff."
"She's just read the documents. I'm not sure witchcraft requires a working knowledge of logging," Carlisle said.
Kato shrugged. "It's all part of my job," she said. "I'm called on to make everything from potions to explosives to biscuits. A real quack of all trades." She smiled. "Not many want real witchcraft; it's too messy for good Christian folk, but a quick healing potion or love spell puts coins in my purse."
Carlisle stared at the small woman for a moment, wondering whether she should bring up something that had been on her mind. She really was beautiful and doll-like. So beautiful, in fact, she made her nervous if she stared at her too long. "I'd think you would be a prostitute," she said. "I don't mean that as in a bad way; honestly. But you're just so pretty; surely, you could be living like a queen. It's legal and pretty safe here, at least on this side of town."
"Some things are more important than money," Kato said. She picked up an odd contraption and pushed a button. Two small hydraulic claws clamped together. "Cool!" She released the button and they opened back up. "This must have taken hours to make."
"If I looked like you, I would be rich. But, I guess there's something to be said for having high ethical standards," Carlisle said.
"Oh, it's not that," Kato said. "I just can't stand being around people most of the time. If I could put up with people, I'd be humping anyone I could find with money."
"Why do they call you 'auntie'," Stevenson said. He was leaning over into the sidecar of an air-powered motorbike, fiddling with some controls. "You can't be more than eighteen or so."
"I think it comes from some old novel or fairytale," she said. "All witches are called Auntie this or Auntie that. It's a job title." She walked over to the bike and put her hands on the handlebars. "If the documents are true, beyond the door there's a tunnel that's at least ten miles long."
"May
be you'd better tell us what we're in for?" Carlisle said.
"Well, the documents are confusing, at best," Kato said. "I don't think they could write very well so it was hard for them to put some things into words." She puffed on her pipe again and the whole shop filled with the smell of cherry smoke. "It's like he said; there's apparently a large opening in what appears to be a cave, and a door with flying reptile statues on either side. Behind the door is a long tunnel... they mention fighting in the tunnel with 'beasties' and there are crude drawings of things they see on the walls."
"Like artwork?" Carlisle said.
"No, like monsters," Kato said. "Though they don't mention them being alive... more like what you educated types call specimens, maybe."
"And do they reach the end of the tunnel in the documents?" Stevenson said. He had become interested in the story and stopped messing with the motorbike. "Obviously, someone survived to tell the tale."
"Well, it gets weird from there," Kato said with a chuckle. "An underground world, strange creatures and people living in, like, a commune or something... as the story is written, the little demon things followed the men out as they ran for their lives and just stayed out after that. They may be baby gargoyles, or something else entirely. But the founding fathers eventually managed to close the door, again. Or, the opening to 'Hellsgate', as they called it."
"These documents, you still have them?" Carlisle said. "Could I get a look at them?"
She reached under her cape and pulled out a leather folder. "I figured you might say that." She handed the folder to the professor and she opened it.
"These look the right age," she said, mostly to herself. She quickly scanned the fist page, and then the second. Everything seemed authentic; though she wasn't sure she could trust Auntie Kato. Still, they looked okay and she was prepared to believe her own eyes.
"That's the important part about the Hellsgate," Kato said. "I have several books full of their other scribblings."
"Are these guys still alive?" Carlisle said.
Kato shrugged. "They stopped writing."
"Hey, don't jump," Stevenson said. "This makes a loud pop when the air hose is disconnected." He had been busy filling the air tank on the bike. But after the pop, he stood up and smacked his hands together. "That should be enough air for thirty miles or more."
"I thought he was a drunk?" Kato said. "He doesn't seem drunk now."
"I only drink after work," he said. "Apart from the occasional sip for medicinal purposes." He pretended to cough.
The little woman pulled a small, silver vial from her cape and handed it to him. "Drink this," she said. She smiled and held out the vial.
He shrugged and took it. "Never look a gift-drink in the mouth," he said, and popped off the lid with his thumb. He took a sip. He smiled. "Hey, not bad!" He handed the empty bottle back.
Kato looked at Carlisle and smiled. "This won't be pretty."
Suddenly Stevenson grabbed his stomach and doubled over. "Oh, I don't feel good!" He cupped his hand over his mouth as his face turned distinctively green and barely made it to a garbage can before he began puking.
"What did you do to him!" Carlisle said. "You poisoned him?!"
"It ain't deadly," she said.
"It feels pretty damned deadly!" he shouted between spitting out bits of his lunch. But, he suddenly seemed to feel better and color rushed back to his face as he stood up. "I feel..."
"Better," Kato said. "Sorry, if I'm going to be a part of this, I'm not working with a drunk. That should cure your desire for alcohol for at least a week. It might take a few treatments to kick it completely. I'll give you my price list later."
"What?!" he yelled. "How cruel can you get!" He was okay, again. "Hmm... I do feel pretty good, now, though."
"There's just a touch of opium in the potion," Kato said. "Nothing drastic, just enough to put a little bounce in your boots and counteract the desire for alcohol."
"Well, that was disgusting," Carlisle said. "But, a small price to pay to have him sober, I guess." She smiled. "He's not a bad guy when he's sober."
"I carry a few essentials in my cape," she said. "The drunk cure is my most popular so I usually carry spares."
He took a deep breath. He was outnumbered. No drinking. "Well, I've got a small arsenal over in those black cabinets," he said. "Based on what you know from the drawings and descriptions, let's pick what we're most likely to need."
"I'm willing to fight for what I'm looking for, but again, why are you?" Kato said.
Stevenson hunched his shoulders. "Without adventure you might as well be dead, anyway, right?"
Kato grinned and raised her eyebrows. He was a good guy, or a complete idiot. "Well, I've had more than enough adventure in my life, usually at the wrong end of a strap. But, this is different."
Carlisle shook her head. "Let's get what we need and get this over with. I want to be home by eight," she said.
Kato giggled and took another long puff. She seemed to notice Carlisle looking at her. "You're wondering how my pipe stays lit when I never put new tobacco in it."
"The thought had crossed my mind," she said.
"Is it magic or sleight of hand?"
"Well?" Carlisle said.
"I ain't tellin' ya," the little woman said with a laugh. "A girl's gotta have some secrets." She looked back at Stevenson. "You'll need to wear the flamethrower when we go in; we might need some dynamite if you've got it. In the tunnel, I think swords would be better than guns."
Stevenson pulled open the double doors of a black cabinet. "Swords," he said. He opened another one. "Explosives... dynamite, grenades..."
"Not bad!" Kato said.
"Why are swords better than guns?" Carlisle said.
"If there are real demons, real supernatural things down there, the only way to injure them is to make them into as many smaller pieces as possible... slicing, blowing them up. A bullet is useless on supernatural creatures, but not sure about the people down there," the witch said. "So, just in case, guns are good backup. And who knows if the creatures are supernatural at all. There's just no reliable information."
"In other words, any weapon we can strap to our bodies, hold in our hands, or stuff into the motorcycle sidecar," Stevenson said.
"There's a page near the back," Kato said. "It's a list of the things they took with them. Doctor Carlisle, if you would read it, please."
Carlisle thumbed through the old documents until she found a list. "Let's see... Water, crackers, machetes, revolvers, rifles, compass, lanterns, dynamite, pick axes..."
"Notice beside some things there's an 'X'," Kato said. "As far as I can figure, the 'X' marks the things they needed."
Carlisle nodded. "So... water, compass, pickaxes, lanterns, rifles..." She looked up. "That's all they took that was necessary?" She chuckled to herself. "I thought the little witch was just making stuff up," she whispered to herself.
"No," the little witch said. She had apparently heard the whisper. "I've been over those papers a hundred times, I know what I'm talking about. Though it's still up in the air whether they were telling the truth or not."
"Sorry," Carlisle said.
"There should have been several pages about the destination, the things they saw, but they were destroyed on purpose, I believe," Kato said. "I only have a few fragments, badly burned, as if deliberately set on fire. Still, we're going in blind. Who knows what's in store."
"And on one of those fragments it mentions something you desperately want," Stevenson said. "Right?"
Kato smiled. "I'm used to dealing with ignorant peasants. I'm going to have to step up my game around you smart people." She pulled a short, slender sword from one of the black cabinets, pulled the blade from the scabbard and admired the finish. "Nicely forged."
"Ah, thank you," he said. "I had that one on the anvil for several hours."
"So, how are we supposed to use these," Carlisle said. "We're not swordsmen."
Stevenson took out a sword, picked up a
nearly petrified apple from a work bench and tossed it into the air. Before it fell, he swung the sword upward and cut it in half. But, even more amazingly, Kato swung her sword and actually pinned a bit of the apple to the tip of her blade, nabbing it out of the air. They both looked at Dr. Carlisle.
"You want to carry the dynamite?" Kato said.
"Perhaps you should know what her nickname is," Stevenson said. "Introducing Clumsy Carlisle."
Oh," she said. "Well, maybe you can just hold our coats."
"Very funny," Carlisle said. "I would remind the both of you that I'm the only scholar here. I'm the one who can read the signs and remains and make sense of whatever we find."
"She's right," Stevenson said. "She's the brains, you're the soul, I'm the..."
"Moron?" Carlisle said.
Kato snickered.
"I was going to say, muscle," he said.
"So, if you can make all of this stuff, maybe you can make something for me later," Kato said.
"If you help us, name it," Stevenson said. "A sword? Gas burners for your chemistry?"
"I was thinking of a mechanical fucking machine," Kato said. "I saw a picture once."
There was complete silence as the little woman pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows.
Carlisle shook her head and held back a smile. "Well, if yours doesn't kill you, I want one, too."
"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm sure I could come up with something," he said. "Of course, a cruder man might say there's already one standing right here in front of you."
"A cruder man just did," Carlisle said.
"I may have to take measurements to ensure a good fit," he said.
"Of your penis?" Carlisle said. "Don't bother. We'd want something bigger than that."
"Should I ask how you know the size of his thing?" Kato said.
"His thing?" Carlisle said. "That's cute!"
"We were an item once," Stevenson said.
"Once," the professor said. "For three minutes in a broom closet when I was drunk on elderberry wine."