by Paul A. Rice
Looking him in the eye, Tori said, ‘Do not be afraid, Mikey. There is no harm awaiting you within the body of those ships, none whatsoever – they would not be able to harm you if they tried, you are far too powerful for that!’ She smiled at him, saying: ‘No, we should finish here, go across to the house and let Kenneth bring us the other twin, and then we shall see.’
Her gentle tone seemed to brush Michael’s apprehensions aside. He grinned, placed the box back onto the floor and without another word, continued to help the others with their equipment.
In short order, the team had all they needed. Everything was packed neatly into three back-packs, ammunition and water was stuffed into several chest-rigs, the handy rigs would be slung across the front of the body in such a manner that their carriage did not impede the wearer, whilst at the same time allowing unfettered access to all they contained. Each of the Hunters now had in their possession an AK-47 with two magazines clipped to it, and also a sturdy belt, which carried their pistols and spare magazines. The remainder of the ammunition would be in the chest-rigs carried by Ken and Junior.
It was late afternoon before they picked up all their belongings and made their way over to the house. Ken ordered them to place all of the equipment in a line along the wall of the house. In silence they obeyed, standing and waiting for him to speak once they had stacked their particular belongings on the floor of the veranda.
‘Right,’ he said, ‘all we need to do now is get some water and a few rations into our packs, and then we’ll see how much room is left for a bit of extra clothing – does anybody have some warm hats? They’ll come in handy if you do.’
With the women telling him to leave it to them, Ken then suggested they get some hot food before finalising their packing. Their preparations ended with him going through everyone’s kit; he checked all the weapons, went over the contents of the med kit and then finally gave the go ahead for the others to pack the few items of warm clothing they had managed to round up.
Each of them had a decent jacket of sorts and, in honour of their promise, Jane and Tori had also found an array of warm headwear – Ken wasn’t too sure about the bright yellow one that Red had taken a fancy to. However, the ridiculous expression that appeared on the huge man’s face, when he demonstrated how well the hat fitted, was not something that filled Ken with the desire to ban the wearing of the floppy woollen hat with its long, braided tassels. He supposed that when it came right down to things, the design of some crazy headwear would be the least of his problems.
Turning away, and with a wry grin upon his face, Ken then produced the three ‘space blankets’ he’d been carrying around in his gear for about the last twenty years, or so. The blankets were a survival aid and consisted of some shiny metallic, paper-like, material. They were vacuum packed and were no larger than a slim packet of cigarettes. Once opened, however, they were able to be folded out and would provide a decent thermal covering for at least two people.
Sliding them into the side pouches of the med pack, he said, ‘They won’t be as good as a sleeping bag, but we don’t have any of them, and anyway, I don’t even know if we will have time to sleep – but at least we have the option. If a couple of you budge up underneath them, they’ll help keep the heat in.’ He zipped the pouch up and rose to his feet, saying: ‘Okay, what rations have we available?’
Ken had asked the boys to dig some food out earlier, and in reply to his question, they pointed at the table where they had laid out a variety of tinned goods, chocolate bars and other foodstuffs. There was also a small pile of plastic plates and six plastic beakers, which had an array of knives, forks and spoons stuffed into them. Knowing that they only had one last backpack left, in which to place such items, and wishing he’d asked George to organise some military rations, Ken told them to go ahead and pack enough for at least three days of one decent meal a day. Upon hearing that, Red, the giant of a man who possessed an equally large appetite, looked at him in dismay.
Ken laughed, saying: ‘I’m sorry, mate, but we’re going to have to rough it for a bit, if we were to take all the food you needed, then we’d most likely have to get about six fully-laden donkeys!’ Red looked about ready to wail. Ken, doing his best to allay the big man’s vision of impending starvation, winked at him and said, ‘Don’t worry, Red – we’ll probably only be up there for one night, and if not then maybe we can shoot a mountain goat, or something.’
The imaginary smell of cooking meat only seemed to make matters worse.
Red rose to his feet with a scowl, and whilst stomping off towards the kitchen, started muttering: ‘Well, I’ll be getting myself a whole heap of food right now – yeah, I’m gonna eat for the whole damned night long!’
His demeanour was very entertaining, and with a great deal of laughter the remainder of the gang followed him into the kitchen. In all honesty, the thought of being short of food in the near future had somehow fired up their own appetites. In almost no time at all, they had begun to prepare a feast that would have been more than fit for a king, several kings, in fact.
Ken stayed on the veranda and made one last check of all the equipment. Finally, when he was at last satisfied they had gathered everything they needed, everything they were reasonably able to carry, he sat in Mike’s rocking chair and lit a cigarette. Brushing away the guilt about smoking, he sat and watched as the sunset began a lazy appearance in the evening sky. The time had arrived and he knew that he and the others were as ready as it was possible to be.
For the first time in his life, Ken Robinson was about to embark upon a mission where he had absolutely no idea of how things would work out, in fact he had no idea how they would even start. Sure, he was well-versed in the old ‘best laid plans of mice and men’ cliché, but even so, ‘Hell, I don’t even know where we’re going, or how we’re gonna get there,’ he thought. ‘What’s the score with the mist, who is this guy and how many men does he have? I mean…’ The sound of a bottle, thunking softly as Jane placed it onto the table next to him, thankfully ended the sudden rush of dark thoughts that had decided to make their unwelcome appearance in Ken’s mind. He looked up with relief, smiled at her and reached across for the bottle of cold beer.
‘Thanks, it’s just what I need,’ he said, gratefully. ‘Things were starting to gang up on me then! All this stuff, all the not knowing, it’s doing my head in!’ He shrugged and took a swig of the beer. ‘What a bloody story – I just wish I knew the ending!’ he said, looking across at Jane.
Ken shook his head in despair and proceeded to chug back the rest of his beer. Finishing the drink, and after belching quietly, he looked across and said, ‘Hmm, that’s a lot better, I think I’ll have a few tonight, it might be a while before the next one, huh?’
Jane nodded and said, ‘I know what you mean about this whole thing, but it’s weird because I’m not scared – are you?’
Ken looked at her and shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s more a case of being frustrated, I suppose. I just wish I had some idea of what it is we’re supposed to be doing, I…’ He stopped talking and shook his head in anger.
Taking a deep breath, he said, ‘Have you heard me? Maybe I should just dry my eyes and stop being a princess, perhaps I should just get on with it, eh?’
Jane laughed loudly and leaned across to kiss him on the lips.
He hugged her tightly, whispering into her ear as he held her close: ‘Don’t worry – it’s all going to be fine. We haven’t come this far for nothing – that’s the one thing I’m absolutely sure about!’
She nodded and they stayed in their embrace for a few more moments. Eventually, Jane broke away, kissed his forehead once and then turned to go and fetch some of the required refreshments.
Just before they decided to eat, the whole group gathered around Ken as he sat there, quietly imbibing of the icy beer and reminiscing. He looked up and watched as Michael placed his metal box onto the wooden table. The atmosphere fell silent as they all felt the heavy sense of antici
pation surround them.
The young man looked around the faces of his family, and said, ‘What is this thing? George said you had the other half…’ His question was addressed to them all.
Ken slid his latest beer to one side, and stood up. ‘Give me two minutes and I’ll be back, don’t anybody move, we’ll do this together,’ he said, then turned away to tramp down the steps and head over to the extension.
Entering the building, he made his way over to the safe and twirled the combination lock back and forth a few times, eventually swinging the heavy door open, which, in its usual fashion, made a loud metallic squeal. He reached inside the safe and slid out the black velvet-covered case. He clunked the safe door shut, twirled the lock and then headed back over to where the others waited on the veranda.
Ken slid the velvet case onto the table and said, ‘Tori, what do we do now? George said something about it being only Mikey who should touch these things…’ He looked across at her with his eyebrows raised questioningly.
Tori took a seat and bade the others to join her, waiting patiently as they did so. Eventually, and with everyone seated around her, she said, ‘Yes, I believe that once the twins are reunited then it can be only Michael who has the power to touch them, let’s just see what happens, shall we – Michael?’ She looked at him and motioned with her head towards his, as yet, unopened box.
The young man stood up, reached over and removed the glass spike from the box’s hasp, placing the beautiful, ruby-coloured object carefully down next to it. Then he gingerly lifted the lid and reached into the box. The expected glow of green light was nowhere to be seen. Unlike when they had witnessed the black ship being handled by George, and unsuccessfully used by Jack, in this, its current location, the little medal just seemed to be sitting in its box, peacefully resting, switched off perhaps…
Whatever may have been occurring, there was no sign of any light.
Although they didn’t actually see his hand make contact with the thing inside, the onlookers were still able to tell precisely when his fingers touched the black ship. Michael stiffened, almost as though an electrical current had been passed through him. Standing rooted to the floor and staring straight ahead, the way in which his face went blank and then began to shine…seeing things that only his ancient ancestors would have seen…was horrifying to witness.
Every one of them felt their blood chill.
Michael said, ‘I…ohh…I never knew, I…’
His eyes widened and then he fell into a deathly silence.
As they watched, his friends and family saw what can only be described as an intense flash of life itself, flying across his face. It was almost as though his face had become some speeded-up, cinematic screen. They knew it was impossible, but it lay before them nonetheless.
Blackness and light, stars and suns; babies being born, raging wars, moons, blood, fire and water – image after image raced before them. In that one skip of a second, they imagined they were able to see everything, everything they had ever witnessed, everything they had ever done, and everything they would ever do, it was all there, laid bare before their very eyes.
Michael’s own eyes had turned into the most intense blue that most of them had ever seen. They became brilliant, blazing blue orbs of fire. Then it was gone, almost so quickly that it seemed not to have happened at all. Michael staggered, his legs buckled slightly and he propped his free hand against the table in an effort to support his wobbling body.
Red rose hurriedly to his feet, reaching out with a giant paw to offer support.
‘Don’t touch him!’ Tori hissed the warning out and instantly grasped Red’s thick wrist, reiterating her command as she did so. ‘Do not touch him, not yet – wait!’ In silence, Red sat back down, but he never took his eyes off young Mikey.
They waited until the young, blue-eyed Hunter had regained some semblance of composure. After a short while, Michael straightened up from the table, removed his hand from the box and used it to brush the dark hair away from his forehead.
In that single moment, whilst doing that one simple act, Ken was able, without a doubt, to see the almost unreal resemblance to his long-lost friend. Young Mikey was, just for that split-second, the very image of one dearly-missed and sadly-departed, Michael Wyppen.
Then, and just as the other, older, Michael would have, Mikey looked at them and smiled. ‘Jeesh!’ he whispered, ‘that was something else, huh? I felt like I was on a space ship or something; everything was just rushing past me like blurring lights, and…’ he paused, to stand there blinking like a miner reaching the surface after a long shift. With a shake of the head, he said, ‘I saw things; there were so many things, I…I saw everything!’ He looked around uncertainly, and then after a few moments, gently wriggled himself between Tori and Junior to resume his sitting position on the bench.
Tori slid Ken’s box towards him, ‘Now, try this one,’ she said.
Without hesitation, Michael opened the velvet case and reached inside. As his hand touched the other ship, the expression of surprised ecstasy that crossed his face was a familiar one to Ken. He nudged Jane with his elbow and felt her return nudge against his arm.
Michael sat there, looking into space once more, this time there were none of the strange images that had crossed his face before. All they saw was an immediate lifting of his spirits as he sensed all those marvellous things, the sudden clarity of life and almost spiritual feeling that they themselves had felt all those years ago. Mikey sat gently shaking his head, and in the very same way his predecessor had been overcome when he’d touched the ship for the first time, he too, started to cry – they all saw the silver tears escape and track their way down his cheeks.
He lifted a hand to his face to brush the tears away, and then grinned widely once more, whispering: ‘Wow!’ There was no need for any other words; they knew by the serene expression upon his face that he had just experienced something beyond mere words.
After sitting in silence for a short while, Tori asked Michael to join the ships, to place them next to each other so they touched. Now was the time they would be shown the true meaning of the strange and powerful objects.
As they looked on with bated breath, they saw the young man slide the black ship from within its metal prison. He placed it onto the velvet next to its twin, the slightly more silvery of the two ships that lay within its beautiful box. Michael placed it down gently; they all heard the soft metallic noise as the objects touched each other. There were no other reactions, at least none they witnessed, the two exquisitely-designed miniatures of the spearhead simply rested next to each other in peaceful harmony.
It was somewhat of an anti-climax, there was no crack of thunder, menacingly pealing across the hills behind them, or even a flash of some awfully powerful green light that magically transported them all to another dimension. Michael Jack Wildeman didn’t grow to be ten feet tall, spitting fire and brimstone – effortlessly killing each and every Demon within this dimension, and several other neighbouring ones, too. No, the two objects just rested on their bed of black velvet, smooth metal flanks glinting dully in the half light of the early evening.
For some unknown reason, Michael seemed to understand the proceedings. With a grunt, he leaned forward, and with total confidence picked up both ships, slid them into the bag, and without another word stuffed them into his trouser pocket.
Rising from the table, he slapped Junior on the shoulder. ‘Come on then, partner,’ he said, with a grin on his face, ‘let’s get some food, I’m starving!’
In no time at all, the little ships, and everything they stood for, were nothing more than another one of George’s mysteries.
However, not to Tori they weren’t. She sat quietly by herself for a while, listening to the others as they messed about inside the house. Tori knew exactly what awaited them, she knew precisely what part the ships would play, and she knew that it was to be a vital part. She smiled sadly to herself, then rose to her feet and went to join the others
in the kitchen.
After their meal they gave the place a quick tidy up, Jane saying that she didn’t want to come back from their trip to a messy house. Ken raised his eyebrows. She winked at him and said, ‘We’ll be back soon, and I wouldn’t think anybody is going to feel like tidying up after this little trip!’
Knowing what it was that his wife was doing, and thoroughly subscribing to her positive attitude, he set about lending a hand. If he’d been able to see the future, Ken wouldn’t have bothered with any tidying up, because, in truth, it was to be a complete and utter waste of time and effort.
And just for once, his wife, Jane, had been completely and utterly wrong.
At last it seemed as though their day was done, all the cleaning tasks had been completed; there was nothing else left to do other than to wait the night out. At some time around seven-thirty pm, they retired onto the veranda to sit and have a few quiet drinks, making idle banter and generally talking about anything and everything, except the unknown horrors they were sure to face at the breaking of tomorrow’s new dawn.
That particular subject was avoided, neither deliberately nor subconsciously, but it just wasn’t discussed. Tomorrow was sure to come, and they were sure to depart, everyone knew their part and, to put it frankly, they just couldn’t be bothered. After everything that had happened recently, getting out of bed early and then going to stand in some weird rectangle, which, apparently, was going to be found sitting on the barn floor, was hardly news of the week, was it?
Had they known exactly what standing in said rectangle would actually lead to, and the shattering end results of such a ‘non-event’, then there was a fair chance the Hunters would have most certainly been discussing the next day’s planned events, and the chances of them meandering quietly off to bed without a care in the world, which they did within an hour, would have been absolutely zero.
Yes, if they had known that the following day was to be the beginning of the biggest event to have ever taken place in their lives, no matter how old they happened to be, then there would have been no sleep for any of them ever again.