Hunters: A Trilogy

by Paul A. Rice

  ‘Good morning, Kenneth!’ he said, jovially.

  ‘Morning, George, do you fancy a brew?’ Ken replied. ‘What’s on the cards today? Something good I hope – I’m really starting to get bored.’

  ‘No, not for me, I am fine, thank you,’ George said. ‘We are going to see Mister MJW, and I am sure you will be happy to know that it is most doubtful you will be getting bored any further. There have been some developments, shall we say, that are forcing us to accelerate our programme!’ He looked at Ken and then nodded toward the door.

  Ken turned and followed George through the second door in the wall to the left of the wardrobe, a door that had not been open before – the red light had turned to green. With a whine, the silver door swung outwards and permitted them an exit into Ken’s unknown. The men entered a dimly-lit corridor with black floor tiles and curved glass walls that arched upwards to the ceiling; this in itself was of an almost magical design, one incorporating a wonderfully illuminated glass roof with a solid, stainless-steel handrail snaking along each side. Ken marvelled once more at the extents to which the architects had gone to in the design of the building. It was an awe-inspiring display and Ken stared upwards for so long that he very nearly tripped over George’s heels. He felt like he was floating as he traipsed along behind George and into the room where Mike was waiting.

  Mr MJW looked pretty good compared to the last time Ken had seen him in the bathroom mirror. He was sitting in an enormous red leather couch, which was fashioned in the shape of a half-moon. Mike was wearing one of the weird flight suits that Ken had seen in the wardrobe back in his room. Even through the baggy material, it was easy to see that his friend had lost weight.

  Mike was taller than Ken, standing at around six-foot-three and usually about twenty pounds heavier, too. But, by the looks of things he had easily lost that much and was very gaunt around the face. A thin layer of dark stubble lay in shadow across his cheeks. Mike was leaning forward and studying some paperwork on the table in front of him. His head was tilted forward in deep concentration; dark hair flopped over his forehead, left hand drumming the table. As they approached, the sound of a squeak from the sole of one of Ken’s boots caused Mike raise his blue eyes. As his gaze fell upon Ken, the Australian’s face lit up with joy. He immediately jumped to his feet – such was his haste to cross the room that Mike nearly knocked over the large, oblong coffee table in the process.

  ‘Kenny, Jesus man – you took your friggin’ time, you old git!’

  The two men shook hands fervently, clapping each other on the back so many times that it started to hurt. Mike’s eyes flashed with a fire, it might have been a tear, or maybe it was only the light, but either way he was ecstatic.

  ‘Come here you!’ he said, lifting Ken clean off the floor in an unrestrained bear hug. Mike’s overzealous show of affection crushed Ken’s ribs with a crackle so easily heard that it caused George to laugh out loud.

  Ken croaked: ‘Arghh, put me down you Aussie twit, you’re gonna bloody kill me! After all of this, I’m gonna end up being suffocated by a bleeding, brain-dead colonial moron!’ Seeing his friend made the terrible fear that Ken had been experiencing, momentarily take a back seat. He felt his face aching with the smile that stretched his skin from ear to ear.

  ‘I see you’ve met the surgeon,’ Mike exclaimed, as he looked at the scar on Ken’s cheekbone. They both laughed and then, more soberly, shook hands again. The Australian smiled, saying: ‘Good to see you, brother!’

  Ken smiled back. ‘Yeah, and me too, Mike!’ he said, happily.

  He looked around and whistled in admiration, it really was quite some place. Fine furnishings lay amongst luscious plants, which stood in wonderfully ornate pots. Soft lights glowed in one area, whilst bright spotlights gleamed in another. Large oval tables stood below magnificent oil paintings, pictures depicting scenes and places that Ken had never been, nor would have comprehended, hung upon gleaming, metal ceiling-supports. A warm, spicy smell, tinged with something else, filled the room. It was an amazing place and he would happily have spent hours looking at its contents. George nodded in an unsaid agreement of Ken’s obvious approval of the beautiful room.

  Then, with a wave of his hands, he indicated for the men to be seated. Taking a breath, he said, ‘Welcome, gentlemen, and now we must get down to business, for time is of the essence!’

  His next line was a killer…

  ‘Have you ever considered the fact that you may not be alone?’

  The only answer to that question was a raft of total silence.

  Undaunted, George pushed on. ‘Have you ever considered that the immeasurable, empty vastness of the heavens above you,’ he said, raising his eyes in reference, ‘may not actually be quite as empty or quite as big as you think it is?’ No change in response, just a deathly silence.

  ‘Have you considered that perhaps this perceived vastness may appear to others, to other sizes, as merely a small collection of dust, maybe like the whirling particles within a vacuum cleaner?’ His questions still met with silence, and it wouldn’t be the last time. Seemingly unconcerned, George then said, ‘Everything is relative, everything is linked, and everything has a parallel!’

  Ken looked at him in confusion. ‘Parallel, what’s a parallel, what do you mean by that?’ he asked. Yet again he felt as though he was just a little bit behind the plot in this game. He was about to find out just how far behind.

  Seeing the confusion, the old man said, ‘Size is a relative thing, Kenneth! As an atom is miniscule to your understanding, then so are you miniscule to other...’ George paused as if in search of the missing word, almost as though he was trying to find some easy way of breaking the bad news. In the end, he simply said, ‘Other places.’

  Ken blinked.

  George said, softly: ‘Parallels are all around you – what happens here, in this one, will also be happening somewhere else, but not in exactly the same way – things will be different there, even if only a little so. Sometimes massively so, a total difference but still a parallel nonetheless– all things are linked.’

  Ken looked at him and shook his head – this time the gesture was one of total confusion. With that terrible expression smeared across his face, he then proceeded to ask the question, the one that he’d been meaning to ask since all of this had started.

  ‘Where the hell are we? What are we actually doing here and...and what the fuck is that spearhead thing all about?’ He felt physically sick, almost as though he was about to faint, nothing was making any sense whatsoever.

  The old man looked at him sincerely, giving a small nod of sympathetic understanding. ‘The spearhead is merely our symbol – it identifies us as being at the forefront of everything!’ he said, whilst looking over at Mike and smiling. Turning back to Ken, George continued with his answer, saying: ‘There is more than just one place in which you can exist, Kenneth.’

  More silence.

  George said, ‘There are many different spaces and places in the cosmos, there are many different times, dimensions and parallels. Think of them as the places just next door...for instance: those men that attacked you, the robe-wearers…’ he paused again. Then he said, ‘They were not from that time, the place you were in; they were from another place, a different time, a separate parallel – how do you think they survived the storm?’

  Ken just blinked; the feeling of his reflex eye movement gave him the sensation of window shutters being rolled down, doors slamming. His thoughts seemed to say: ‘Thank you and good night – go away, there’s no-one home…’

  George smiled, and said, ‘Oh, and there are many, many places in between time, too. As your journey with us progresses, then you will learn more of these things, but for now just accept the fact that you are not alone, and try to understand that time is not a thing that stands alone, either. There are lots of interesting things for you to learn whilst you are here, Kenneth – but they will come later.’

  Ken stared at him without saying a word. See
ing George raise his eyebrows questioningly, he simply nodded and sat there listening to the noise of the roaring silence within his own head.

  George smiled once more, saying: ‘With regards as to where you are...well, let us just say that you are with us, safe and sound in a place where no-one else can see you or harm you, in a place that lies in between places.’

  With total disregard for the expression of absolute bewilderment upon Ken’s face, and seeming to warm to his own theme, George continued. ‘When you looked at an ant…did it ever cross your mind about how small its world looks to you? And yet to the ant, well…it’s a huge place with all its own functions, spaces and meanings. But how often do you ever contemplate the relativity of its size?’

  With eyes shining intensely, he ushered them further into his story. ‘Have you ever considered what a dust mite may seem like through the eyes of an ant? What a speck of dust looks like to the mite, how miniscule an atom is in comparison to the speck of dust?’

  Silence greeted his question. George didn’t care.

  With a huge smile, the old man said, ‘As I have said, size is a relevant thing!’

  Not even waiting for Ken to digest that piece of mind-boggling information, he went on to explain that how he came from a race of people who travelled the heavens and bought life to any barren planets they came across.

  ‘We seed planets,’ he said. ‘We bring life to the universe and our work is the reason why you as a human are here on the little planet known as Earth – we gave life to you a long, long time ago.’

  Seemingly unable to notice the abject silence which met his remarks yet one more time, George continued to explain how their endeavours had started new life on many different planets, that there were now thousands of inhabited worlds throughout the universe, some far more advanced than even he and his own kind were, whilst others were nothing more than amoeba-covered rocks, their early cells germinating within the nutrient-rich soup of their journey into life.

  That simply explained piece of information rocked Ken to the core, he was incredulous. ‘You mean that…that there are other beings here?’ he said, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting to see one of them standing right behind the couch.

  Seeing nothing, he spun back to face the old man, saying: ‘There are other life forms in the solar system, I mean, you know...aliens, UFOs, flying saucers and...and little green men! They’re all for real?’ He glanced at Mike with a dumbfounded expression upon his face.

  George took control again. ‘Well...yes, after a fashion there is, but there are no little green men and we are all aliens, I suppose. Within your solar system there are only two populated planets. One of them is Earth, as you know it, and one is an undiscovered planet on the edge of your system. It is populated by early life forms, bacteria, plankton and microbes are all busy growing within her watery depths as we speak…’

  Ken was stunned. ‘Another planet – how, where...where is it?’ he asked. ‘I thought that we were the only possible place where life existed.’

  George smiled, raised his head and looked directly at them. ‘The problem that you, as a race, have,’ he said, ‘is that you assume life can only exist in the way you perceive life to be, there are many forms of life in the universe that you would casually dismiss as being non-existent. But that is only because you do not know how to look, not yet.’

  His voice took on a more serious tone. ‘As for the seeding of planets...all life forms are started this way; all life within our region comes from the same seeds, the same strain. Once it has been decided that a planet is suitable, the basic seeds are sown and then by law it is generally forbidden to interfere any further. We are allowed only to observe and watch in the wonders of nature as a new world becomes inhabited by its growing crop.’ His smile was curtailed by the flashing reply that Ken was unable to prevent himself from uttering.

  ‘But you interfered with us, though, didn’t you, George? And you interfered with us big time!’ His eyes burned with anger as he spat the question out. No, not a question, it was a statement. Ken felt the anger well up inside again, he looked at George and felt his own cheeks flush with the heat of his emotions.

  George didn’t falter. ‘I will explain about that in a moment, if I may…’ he said. ‘But first let me tell you the rest of the tale, the tale of why we are here today and of how much trouble we are in!’

  Ken shook his head in angry despair. George was calmly measured in his response – he smiled at the two big men who sat before him, sitting like a pair of schoolboys attending their first sex education lesson. Then, continuing in his soft, mesmerising tone with his voice never faltering, he simply talked to them and they sat and listened. Frozen by his revelations, they were as still as statues.

  He said, ‘The race of humans, as your planet calls them, has been in existence for millennia. They are spread far and wide throughout the heavens, amongst the stars and unseen horizons, they are scattered across galaxies that stretch millions of light years into the distance – no-one is quite sure as to whom the oldest ancestors may be, some races have been in existence far beyond any normal concept of memory.’

  Shrugging, he continued. ‘Throughout the passage of time we have populated, sown, if you like, many other planets. As far as we are aware there are no other beings or races other than the human race and their descendants. Certainly, some may appear slightly different, but that is due to genetic strains and the environmental effects of the various worlds upon which they have grown – much like the different ethnic races on your own planet.’ He paused to stare at them, grey hair shimmering under the overhead lights.

  Then he quipped: ‘Although, to my certain knowledge, it must be said, none of them are reported as to ever having been green…’ George looked at Ken and smiled like a madman. Ken didn’t return the favour.

  George said, ‘Some sowings were highly successful and thrived immediately, so much so that in time, they themselves, once fully developed, were deemed to be capable of carrying out the sowing of barren worlds on their own. Some of the others, tragically, never elevated themselves past a level of barbarism, greed and warmongering. They were not deemed to be developed enough to be given the knowledge and technologies that would lift them to a higher level of understanding.’

  Taking a deep breath, he said, ‘This is where your world differed from many others of the same ilk, you were on the verge of a great progression, but instead you are now on the very edge of catastrophe, and that is precisely why we are here – this time we have to interfere, for if we do not then you are all doomed and …’ he stared fiercely at them, ‘…and we have come too far to allow that to occur!’

  The silence was thick and bleak this time around, total. Old grandfather time took his time. Tick-tock, tick-tock...After what seemed to be several centuries, George put them out of their misery.

  He said, ‘There are dark forces at work and we are in trouble, we have a serious problem, one that desperately needs your help, Kenneth.’

  Ken sat upright. ‘What forces, George?’ he asked. ‘From what I’ve seen there’s pretty much bugger-all that you lot can’t achieve!’ Ken was scathing in his attack. George looked at him in such a sincere way that Ken felt like a five-year-old who had just farted loudly in the school chapel. He very nearly said, ‘Sorry Sir, it just popped out on its own!’ but managed to bite his tongue as he felt those blue eyes bore into him. However, he was still overcome with the desire to say something about this whole, bloody mess.

  So he did. ‘How the hell do you expect me to help with this mess? This is just unbelievable, I mean...bloody hell! First of all you go and tell me that I’m in a parallel or something, and then you tell me that you lot are the masters of the fucking universe, and now...well, and now you go and say that I have something you want, that I can help you! What in God’s name can I do? This is just incredible!’ As he spoke, Ken felt his anger rising, he knew from plenty of past experience that if he didn’t hold his tongue, then things would get very ug
ly, very quickly. He sighed, ran his hands over his face and clamped his mouth shut.

  George kept staring.

  After a while, he spoke. ‘What you must realise, is this…’ he paused, as if to make sure Ken was listening.

  Ken was listening, most definitely.

  Seeing this, George said, ‘You can have any opinion that you like about our current situation, our predicament, if you will? You can ask any number of questions, and so you should, for you deserve to know. You can be angry, you can be sad and you can blame me...us...for any number of things. All of the aforementioned are acceptable and more than understandable.’ He glanced up at the ceiling of the room, as if in search of assistance.

  Looking back down at the men, he said, ‘This, after all, is one of the most prominent events ever to happen in this parallel. You two are amongst a very small group of survivors. I know how difficult this has been, how difficult it still is. I know, believe me – I know!’

  He turned his head so that both men were able to see into his eyes.

  Ken realised that the old man may well have been ‘Good Old George’ with his beguiling smile and his friendly manner. Yes, he may well have been the pleasant old man, but there was steel in him, a ruthless determination born out of the knowledge, born out of some horrible, irrefutable truth. Like the man had just said – he knew.

  ‘But,’ George said, forcefully, ‘after all of these things, after all of your questions and thoughts, there is only one truth with no ambiguity whatsoever. This has happened, it is a reality and it will not be undone. This cannot be undone!’ Taking a deep breath, he stormed on. ‘The future for you, and for all that remains of this parallel, is in grave danger!’

  Then, in a barely audible whisper, he spoke the words that sent a full brigade of chills charging headlong down Ken’s back.

  ‘You, all of you, are on the very edge of extinction!’

  13

  The Edge

  Ken didn’t like the sound of that one, not in the slightest. He glanced at Mike – the big guy was just sitting there, silently watching George, lips drawn tight. Ken looked back to George, saying: ‘Extinction – all of us, what do you mean?’ George did his angry, staring thing. Ken had the feeling that he was merely checking to make sure they were paying attention. The thought made him shiver: there wasn’t any chance whatsoever that he and Mike wouldn’t be listening. He felt his mind sliding again – sliding straight into the old man’s eyes.