by Chris Angus
***
Sam led the way through a maze of tunnels. They had no idea where they were, except that it was far enough from the strange hole that the wind had now retreated to little more than a warm breeze. Continuing blindly on was a form of insanity only slightly less crazy than staying in one place would have been.
She was having trouble accepting what Kraus and Jon had just shown her. Literally, a hole at the center of the earth. Except she knew it wasn’t that. Amma had suggested something else entirely. Communicating with the strange apparition, or chrysalis or whatever it was, had been illuminating and terrifying at the same time.
Amma spoke in ancient Norse. That Sam had understood what she said was mystery enough. But had she really understood? The mind-set of a thousand-year-old Viking was so far outside Sam’s own reality base that she couldn’t be sure of the specter’s real meaning. Everything the old woman said was based on a worldview that included the supernatural, Norse gods and mystical and spiritual claptrap that was utterly foreign to Sam.
She wondered if the holy woman was speaking for herself or for someone . . . or something . . . else. Amma clearly believed that Laki was a god. Was the old woman being used as a mouthpiece for that god? Was she some sort of burning bush, passing on the ruminations of a higher being?
There was no way to know. But Sam had the sense that when Amma spoke of a hole at the center of the earth she was really talking about God . . . the spirit God, Laki. Of course, Sam had actually seen that incredible hole. It was real enough, if incomprehensible. Perhaps Amma was referring to some sort of religious whole or center. It was all too frustrating to think about.
“We’re not getting anywhere,” Jon whined. “We’re going in circles.”
“Maybe,” Sam replied. “But it doesn’t do us any good to just sit down in one place and die.”
“I agree,” said Kraus. “We can only continue on and trust in God to deliver us from this place.”
Sam stopped in her tracks so suddenly that Jon, who’d been following on her footsteps, ran into her.
“What?” he asked.
She raised a hand. “Shh . . . listen.”
They could hear Laki, its bubbling lava, gas releases, and subterranean movements. But there was something else.
“That’s a voice,” Kraus said. “A human voice.”
They listened, hands cupped to their ears. Sam was pretty sure it wasn’t the wailing of Amma. It was distant, but there was something familiar about it. Then they heard it again. Closer now.
Sam’s heart thumped in her chest as she heard, “Sa-MAN-tha!”
The others looked at her. Over and over, the voice repeated the cry. It was coming closer and getting louder and finally Sam knew with absolute certainty who it was.
She started forward, first at a trot, then a run. “Father!” she yelled.
The voice stopped for a moment, then began with renewed fervor, and the two closed on one another rapidly.
Then she was being held by her father, tears streaming down his face.
“Sam! I thought I’d lost you forever. You’re okay.”
“As okay, I guess, as any of us can be down here,” she said. She looked past him and saw Ryan, a huge grin on his face. She slipped out of her father’s grasp and fell into Ryan’s strong arms.
“I knew you’d be all right,” he said softly. “You’re too damn stubborn to die.” He squeezed her tightly and looked past her at Jon and Kraus.
“I’m glad to see you too, Jon.” He nodded at the other man. “How many more are down here?”
Sam pulled back from him. “Dagursson’s men are all dead, Ryan, a dozen of them. We were mad to come down here. This place is too dangerous. I was a fool to let them come. I’m responsible for their deaths.”
“No,” he said. “You were just trying to help, to find Jon. You couldn’t know how bad it would be.”
“Do you know how to get out of here?” asked Jon, almost pleading.
Ryan shook his head. “We’re as lost as can be.”
“Well, if one direction’s as good as another,” said Sam, “I think we should show you what we found back there.” She gestured behind them.
“”I agree,” said Kraus. “The more people who can confirm what we’ve seen, the better. The only question is if you think we can find our way back to it.”
Jon started to protest, then stopped. What difference did it make which direction they went?
“We just need to follow the breeze,” said Sam. “At every juncture, we take the passage with the most wind coming from it.”
Ryan gestured at Akbari, who up to now had remained silent at the back of the group. “This dour-looking fellow is the Iranian minister of oil, Ali Akbari. He and your father have been in this from the beginning, Sam. For what it’s worth, they . . . agreed . . . to come look for you.”
She stared at her father. “All of this is because of your interest in something the Vikings found that extended their lives, isn’t it?
Graham looked more tired than regretful. “I’m sorry, Sam. It’s the cause of my life. I had to know if it was real.”
She looked at him for a long moment. “I found one of those Vikings. Still alive after a thousand years, but I doubt you’d want to change places with her.” She waved a hand dismissively at his astonished look.
“Come on,” she said. “One mystery at a time.”
The little group fell in behind, as she began to retrace their steps. Ryan walked beside her, close enough that they could speak without the others hearing over the background din of Laki.
“Were you serious?” he asked. “You found a Viking alive after a thousand years?”
She glanced at his face for a moment. She wanted to burn it into her memory. She’d thought she’d never see him again. “It was Amma. You remember? The Norse holy woman Hauptmann found in the sagas.”
His face showed disbelief.
“After all these years? You’re saying your father was right—there is something keeping them alive?”
“I’m not sure alive is the right word. We did see their bones after all, remember? Or at least someone’s bones. Anyway, it hardly seems like much of an existence. She’s some sort of . . . thing . . . hanging on a wall like a damn bat. She speaks in this disembodied wail, like an automaton.”
“You spoke with her?”
“Her . . . it . . . a cocoon. I don’t know what to call what I saw. She spoke in ancient Norse and yet I understood what she was saying. How can that be? I don’t even like to think about it. I was all alone in the dark with this disembodied creature trying to communicate with me. Only I didn’t sense that it was really Amma, you know? It was more like something else speaking to me through her.”
“It must have been awful.” He put one hand on her arm. “What did the thing say to you?”
“That we were trespassing. That we weren’t wanted down here. Amma believes Laki is a god. Or maybe she’s part of Laki herself now, absorbed, somehow, by the volcano. My overwhelming sense was that we shouldn’t be here. I don’t know, maybe it was the paranoia returning. Maybe whatever it is tries to get rid of us by making us feel paranoid.”
She paused at a branching of tunnels. The wind coming from one was much stronger now and there was no question which way they should go. The walls were thick with the arm-sized tentacles, throbbing and glowing. After two more branches, she sensed they were close.
Jon began to hang back. He wanted nothing to do with the strange forces they’d encountered. But Kraus seemed energized.
“We’re almost there,” the German said, a strange look in his eyes. “I can feel it.”
The wind became fierce, forcing them to lean into it.
“This is too weird,” Ryan said. “How can there be wind down here? Where’s it coming from.”
“You’ll see,” said Sam.
They rounded a turn in the passage and came to the boulder behind which Jon had cringed earlier. Kraus, too, held back now. He’d experienced
the hole. It had made him feel strangely invigorated and content. Peaceful. He’d resisted an almost overwhelming desire to throw himself into it. This time, he feared he might not be able to resist.
Akbari and the senator also held back. Sam could see her father’s intense face. He was fascinated by what they were experiencing but fearful at the same time.
“Be careful,” he said, as Sam and Ryan fought their way toward the opening.
Then they were side by side staring into the abyss. The wind whipped their hair back and even rippled the flesh on their faces. The coils of tentacles disappeared into the depths.
“God almighty,” Ryan said. “What is it?”
“Kraus said it looked like a hole at the center of the earth,” said Sam.
“But there are lights down there,” Ryan said, incredulity in his voice. “Pinpoints of light—like stars.”
From behind them, over the wind, they heard a voice.
“It’s beautiful. Peaceful. It feels like . . . harmony.” Akbari had come up to hold onto the rock wall beside them. His hair was plastered back on his head, his eyes large and unblinking as they stared down into the opening.
“Beautiful,” he said again, and then, before Ryan or Sam realized what he was doing, the Arab vaulted over the stone wall and threw himself into the hole. His body spun around, seemed to float between worlds. Then, with a flash of light, he was gone.
“Jesus . . . God . . .” Jon whimpered.
The senator came closer too and stared at the space that had been occupied by Ali Akbari. “What happened to him? Where has he gone?”
“Get back,” Sam cried. She and Ryan pushed themselves away from the edge and pulled the senator back to where Jon and Kraus were standing.
“It’s a trap,” Jon shouted. “It wants us to come closer, then it makes us jump in.”
“Ryan and I didn’t jump in,” said Sam. “Kraus didn’t jump in.”
“I thought about it,” said the German, his face sober. “It took hold of me. I had to resist with every ounce of my strength.”
“For all his flaws, Akbari was a deeply religious man,” said Senator Graham. “Perhaps he was more affected by this place than the rest of us. More open to whatever may have called to him.”
“Yes,” Kraus said. “I felt something call to me as well. The temptation to follow it was very strong.”
“So what do we do now?” Jon asked.
“We’ve got to find a way out of here,” said Sam. “We need to be able to talk to people outside, tell them what we’ve found, determine if anything can be done. Dagursson must be working topside with the authorities.” She stared blankly at the various passageways.
“Look,” Ryan said, “You followed the tentacles here, right? They got larger the closer we came to the hole. Well, then, let’s follow them out. What can we lose? Maybe they’ll lead us to the surface.”
She could think of no reason why the strange, living fingers should lead them to the surface, but she didn’t have a better idea. They began to follow the tentacles. The farther away from the hole, the smaller they grew. Their little group traipsed along what seemed like miles of ventholes. They passed fresh signs of collapses and blockages but each time, the tentacles simply meandered off in a new direction.
The strange growths decreased in size steadily, until they were like veins, crisscrossing the passage walls, percolating outward as the faintest of lines.
“This is what they were like when Jonsson, one of Dagursson’s men, first encountered them,” said Sam. “He said they pulsated. I told him not to touch them because they might be toxic.” She laughed bitterly. “They were toxic all right. They killed Jonsson and all his men.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t be following them,” Jon said nervously. “If they killed the policemen, they can do the same to us.”
Sam started to reply then stopped. “There’s something familiar about this place,” she said.
They all stopped and looked at her.
“What is it, Sam?” Ryan asked.
“I think . . . I’ve been here before. I recognize the way these vents come together here.”
“It all looks bloody the same,” said Jon. “How can you possibly tell?”
“I don’t know. Something I feel. I think this channel on our left will lead to Amma.”
“Well, the tentacles go that way, so we might as well follow them and see,” Ryan said.
Sam wasn’t sure she could trust her own senses. She’d been alone and in the dark, until she’d reached the great cavern that had provided light. That light had to come from the surface, so they were going in the right direction. They had to continue.
When they reached the cavern, it was as if a great weight fell from their shoulders. They could see once more, without artificial light or the pulsating glow of the tentacles.
“Were you here?” Ryan asked.
“Yes. Amma must be close.” She noticed an opening in the side of the cavern she hadn’t seen before and went over to look at it.
“There’s something in here,” she said.
He came over beside her and played his flashlight into the opening. He took in a sudden, sharp breath. Sam grabbed his hand tightly.
“More of them,” She whispered.
The space was filled with the strange chrysalises. They lined the walls, dripping and shiny in the light.
“There must be dozens of them,” she said in a hushed voice.
“More like scores,” said Ryan. “Maybe this is where the rest of the Vikings, the Nazis who disappeared, even Dagursson’s lost tourists ended up.”
Suddenly, they heard the strange wailing sound again. Sam whirled around.
“What’s that?” asked Jon, his voice edging near panic.
Sam moved away from the opening and toward a more familiar venthole.
“It’s Amma,” she said to no one in particular. Her heart was pounding. She had little desire to encounter the Viking woman again. Still, she had more questions about this place. Maybe Amma could answer some of them.
Then she once again stood beside the terrible apparition attached to the wall. The Norse woman looked the same. Her stringy gray hair hung down and appeared to shimmer from the glue of the chrysalis.
The others came up beside her and gaped. The wailing had subsided, but Amma’s mouth continued to open and close.
Senator Graham moved next to his daughter. He stared at the figure as though seeing his own personal demon.
“This is the Viking woman?” he asked.
Sam nodded. “She calls herself Amma, which was the name Hauptmann found in the sagas. She lived in the tenth century. If what we’re seeing is really her, she would be over a thousand years old.”
Something fired in the senator’s eyes. He was face to face, at last, with what he’d been searching for all of his adult life. He reached out a hand, hesitated, then touched the strange figure.
Amma’s eyes opened wide and Graham stared into them as though they might somehow hold the answer to his search for the Holy Grail.
“How . . . how have you lived so long?” he asked.
“Laki,” came the one word reply. Then Amma said a spray of words.
“I don’t understand what she’s saying,” Graham said.
“Just wait,” said Sam.
Amma continued to speak in ancient Norse. After a few moments, they suddenly realized they could understand the words.
“How is that possible?” Ryan asked in a whisper. “I don’t understand ancient Norse.”
“It happened to me before,” said Sam. “Somehow, we are meant to understand.”
Graham leaned closer to the chrysalis. “How have you lived so long?” he asked again. “Is it something here? Something you eat? The mushrooms? Is it the air? The volcanic gas? What made it possible for you to live for a thousand years?”
“Laki,” came the single word answer again. Then Amma said, “Laki needs me.”
There was an air of pride in the old woman’s
voice.
“I speak for Laki,” she said. “In return, Laki allows me to live . . . forever.”
“You call this living?” asked Graham, a note of horror in his voice. “Frozen to a wall, alone in a black cavern?”
“I am not alone,” Amma said. Her eyes were like two sightless orbs, but they moved, turning toward the opening where the other chrysalises hung. “My clan is all here,” she said. “Skari is here. He was the first to meet our god. Those of us who resisted, died in our chamber underground. But those who accepted him will live forever. Laki is God, but he asks nothing of us. We have free will,” she said.
“Jesus,” said Jon. “Free will?”
Kraus moved next to the senator. His face was filled with suspicion and disbelief. “What does your god give you in return for your free will?” he asked.
“Eternal life,” said Amma.
“This?” Kraus said in disbelief. “If this is eternal life, it is in hell.”
“Laki does not care what we think,” Amma said. “Laki wishes only to be left alone.”
Sam turned to her father and put her hand on his arm. “Is this what you’ve been in search of for forty years?”
“No.” The pain in her father’s eyes was palpable. “I want no part of this awful thing. Death would be better than this.”
***
The shock of their confrontation with Amma weighed on all of them. It seemed to sap their will to continue. They moved back into the light of the cavern and rested. Senator Graham, especially, was subdued. He moved away from the others and sat on the floor, his head in his hands.
Ryan sat with Sam, their bodies touching, seeking comfort in their shared warmth.
“I think your father may finally be ready to reconsider his long quest for longevity,” he said.
“Seeing Amma was definitely a shock to him. Not exactly what he had in mind when he contemplated extended life. He hasn’t spoken to me or anyone. I don’t know how, or if, he’ll come out of this.”
Kraus sat next to them. He looked completely drained by their encounter. “I don’t understand what that thing meant,” he said.
“How so?” Ryan asked.
“Amma said that they bargained with Laki, that those who accepted what the volcano was, a living god, were given eternal life. But she also said that Laki didn’t care what they thought, that it only wanted to be left alone. For sure, it is a contradiction. They had to accept Laki in order to be given eternal life—to be saved. But at the same time, Laki just wanted to be left alone. It—Laki—God, whatever you want to call it, cares yet doesn’t care.”