CHRYSALIS

by Walter Erickson

  HOOOGA!HOOOGA!HOOOGA! the klaxons screamed, and the stair tower door suddenly blew open with an immense CRASH! as a wall of air came rushing out. Behind the air a wall of water plumed out of the stair tower with a roar, subsiding in a cascade of cold spray.

  “Medusa! Medusa!” Khalid screamed, terrified. “The medusa has returned! She has released the waterlock and the city is flooding!”

  “That's crazy!” Simon yelled. “I saw her die! Eaten by fish, with nothing but a pile of cartilage left!”

  “Of course!” Khalid screamed, trembling, “she is a Jinn! How else will she renew herself? Why else build a city in the lake? Why else the play, with the panther and the hound? She called to the hound, and the hound came. She created the panther to kill the hound she had called. Why? She did not need the panther to kill the hound, she could have done that herself, she wanted the panther to kill the medusa! Her time was upon her! She returned to the water, where she was reborn, and from where she is now returned!”

  “Do you want me to restrain him, sir?” Pearlman asked anxiously.

  At that moment Marianna and Shallcross reached the top of the ladder and raced for the Director’s aircar. Simon took the stones from his pocket and saw they were alive, four brilliantly shining stones, blazing brightly in his hand, glowing in the early morning dark, bathing the tower platform in a cascading, shimmering green and red, yellow and blue mist.

  “Throw them away, amigo,” Juan Marie said softly, coming up beside him. “Throw them in the lake. This is a comic book world, and there will be a comic book ending. Throw the stones in the lake.”

  Simon looked keenly at Juan Marie, then turned and threw the stones in the lake, one by one. Nothing unnatural happened, no geyserous eruptions, no explosions, nothing but the flaming, shining points of brilliant light growing swiftly dimmer as the stones sank quickly to the bottom.

  “You know of it?” Simon said quietly.

  They leaned over the parapet, watching the drama on the landing platform, where running figures had suddenly appeared. The red uniforms were almost upon the Director’s little aircar when it suddenly shot straight up into the air, climbed away from the platform, banked steeply and came racing back across the lake.

  “Yes, I know of it,” Juan Marie said. “I saw you on the floor of the bedroom, and came to get you. Two worlds are in the bedroom, your world and this comic book world. When I came through the portal I stepped into the comic book world, not your world. I was Old Bo, buried in a grave in a hellish landscape. A comic book landscape. I escaped and got to Linngard, where I appeared before medusa and met the panther. All, if Khalid is right, and I think he is, at the direction of the medusa. And now she’s back. What you perceived as death was simply another stage in her life. Perhaps the medusa we knew is but a chrysalis, and she’s back now, in another form, for another reason. She’s back, and she’s destroying Linngard, for it has served her purpose. I believe the story is coming to an end, amigo.”

  “Not yet, it isn't,” Simon said grimly. “We've got to get out of here, and get out fast. I have the feeling if we die in a comic book we're still dead.”

  Explosions sounded deep inside the lake, rumbles of disturbed water, as of something collapsing, and all the while the klaxons kept up their infernal HOOOGA!HOOOGA!

  Amid the screams of the klaxons and the screams of terrified people leaping into the water, Marianna brought the aircar overhead and hovered just beyond the parapet. Shallcross threw open the door and shouted, “Let's go!” Simon and Pearlman helped the injured Juan Marie onto the parapet and across the narrow space to the aircar, where Shallcross grabbed him and pulled him aboard. Khalid was next, and he hopped nimbly up onto the parapet and leaped into the aircar. Pearlman and Simon quickly followed, and Shallcross slammed and locked the door behind them.

  “I'm heading for the airfield,” Marianna cried above the roar of the thrusters. “Keep your eyes peeled for our ship!” She took off, leaving the tower just as it collapsed in a rumble of broken concrete.

  “Take me back!” Juan Marie cried suddenly. “I must find Sandy, Sandy Frederick!”

  42

  Sariot Kosh stirred, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings, as if waking from a deep sleep. He was greatly puzzled, for he seemed to be lying on a sheet of cold, hard metal. Wondering, he reached out and felt an enclosing box. Exploring, he discovered a cold metal ceiling directly above him, and equally cold metal to the sides. The sides of the box, however, were different from the top and bottom. The sides were not one piece, but two pieces, overlapping. Exploring the area of overlap, he discovered the interior side did not extend the full height of the box, and was separated from the exterior wall by the width of a finger. When he pulled on the interior side wall, it moved.

  He willed himself to relax, to remain calm. He considered the evidence, and concluded he was in a drawer. He placed his hands on the cold metal ceiling overhead and pushed, hoping the drawer was unlocked. He felt himself move, felt the drawer move forward effortlessly and noiselessly, heard the soft rolling sound of nylon wheels on smooth metal tracks. Light appeared between his feet as the drawer opened, and a familiar room came into view.

  White tile. His suspicions had been correct. He was in the Infirmary morgue, though how he had gotten here was a complete mystery. A picture rose sharply in his mind. A panther, a hound, medusa. It was coming back to him.

  At that moment the klaxons began. He stopped, listening, wondering what the alarm meant. Were they under attack? He pushed on the ceiling, and the drawer slid fully open.

  He heard a roar in the distance, as of rushing water. The tile wall in front of him bulged oddly. Something was happening! Frantic, amid the sounding klaxon and the rush of water, he slung one leg over the side of the drawer, fear rising within him. At that instant the wall gave way, and Lake Champlain poured into the Infirmary, sweeping all before it. He struggled valiantly in the swirling water, to no avail. The water quickly filled the room, filled the entire level and rushed up the stair towers, furniture and bodies flung about in mad abandon.

  Thrashing about, searching desperately for air, Sariot Kosh felt his lungs reach the bursting point, felt the indescribable pain of his body screaming for air. With an involuntary gasp, his agonized lungs sucked in the water of Lake Champlain. Still thrashing, Kosh struggled mightily and painfully to remain alive. One by one his brain cells died for lack of oxygen. Blackness overcame him, and he cried to heaven for blessed relief. When it was over, the still, limp body of Sariot Kosh slowly settled to the bottom of the room, coming to rest on the floor of the sunken Infirmary, the beautiful city of Linngard collapsing around him.

  43

  Medusa had no desire to destroy Linngard, the city she had built, but her mother’s command was instantly obeyed, and a surge of water, wholly inconsistent with the nature of the bottoms of lakes, came into being. The waterlock doors, designed to hold back the enormous pressure of two hundred feet of water, gave way, and a roaring column of water rushed up the stair tower. The door to medusa's apartment was swept away, and the entire lake tried to force its way in, the pressure tearing away the masonry surrounding the opening. In an instant, Linngard was open. The lake poured into the apartment, filling it rapidly, cascading down the elevator shaft to Kosh's first level study, blowing out the corridor walls, filling the stair towers with rushing, swirling water.

  Everyone on Level 1 who didn’t react instantly to the klaxons was overwhelmed, and those on Level 2 fared little better. The bulk of the population lived above Level 2, however, and the klaxons gave enough warning so that most of them made it to the stair towers and onto the platforms. The stair tower platforms were designed for emergencies, and the first ones out got the rafts and lifebelts out of the boxes ringing the towers and into the water. The rafts inflated as they hit, and strings of tied together lifebelts floated at the base of the towers, each string of lifebelts flashing its yellow strobe light in the early morning dawn.

  “We can't help them
,” Marianna yelled above the sound of the thrusters, “we've got a full load in this thing already.”

  “Sandy Frederick!” Juan Marie cried. “He saved my life! I must go back for him!”

  “There's not a chance we'll find him!” Marianna yelled back, but she cut the thrusters and put the aircar in a bank, bringing them back over the tower clusters. The water was filled with people, with more coming out of the towers and jumping in, without regard for safety, their own or those already in the water.

  “Here come some aircars!” Marianna called.

  From across the lake three big transport aircars headed for the city, a dozen or more smaller ones following helter-skelter, in the order in which they took off. The pilots hovered the ships over the towers and lowered rope ladders, though they got few takers. Two of the big transports landed on the main landing platform, which had few people on it, and men ran out of the ships and released the platform's rafts, which they quickly began paddling to the people in the water.

  The rising sun lit a scene of utter chaos. Several thousand people thrashed about in the water, and another thousand or so gathered fearfully on the towers.

  “Let's get out of here,” Marianna said urgently, “before somebody starts wondering who's in the Director's private aircar.”

  “All right,” Simon said, “one last look. A pudgy guy with sandy hair and freckles, is that right, Juan?”

  “He saved my life,” Juan said again. “In the lava field.”

  “They better be real big freckles,” Marianna said grumpily.

  “One last group, Marianna,” Simon said. “To your right. See them? They've drifted a ways from the others.”

  “Thank you, my friend,” Juan Marie said quietly, “I believe it’s necessary. Reciprocation, the return of one good deed with another, is an essential element in primitive stories.”

  “Who’s the primitive, Juan, Tal Avenger or the man on the floor?”

  “We are all the primitive, amigo.”

  Sandy was there, among the floaters, holding firmly to a life raft, as Juan Marie fully expected him to be. Juan Marie pointed him out, and Marianna hovered gracefully overhead. Shallcross leaned out the hatch and grabbed Sandy by the hand. Pearlman appeared alongside to grab the other, and between them they hauled him aboard, to the indignant cries of his former companions, who felt they were being abandoned.

  “We're loaded up!” Shallcross shouted. “We'll be back!” He closed the hatch and dogged it. Marianna kicked in the thrusters and headed for the pine-rimmed shore.

  “Thanks,” Sandy said, gasping for breath, sitting on the floor, clearly wondering what was going to happen to him next. “Thought I'm a goner for sure, that time. Thanks again.”

  “Hang on, guys,” Marianna cried, “and keep your eyes open for our ship. I'm taking a run over the airfield.”

  She headed for the eastern shore, directly into the rising sun, now fully above the horizon and showing promise of being a hot day. In a few minutes she was over the airfield, circling the perimeter lazily, not expecting and not receiving any challenges on a day like this.

  They didn’t see the black ship with the big white star, but there were a number of semicircular hut-like structures she could be under, and that meant getting out and taking a look.

  The airfield was abuzz with activity, aircars landing and taking off with great urgency, ground crews busily readying the emptying aircars for a return journey to the lake, and emergency workers tending to wet and frightened passengers. No one paid the slightest attention to the tiny silver aircar flying lazily overhead. She looked around for a quiet place to put her down.

  “Well whaddya know,” she drawled, “the stainless steel bitch is here.”

  Simon grinned and looked out the window. A round dozen senior officers stood near an aircar disembarking survivors, looking attentively at a wet and forcefully gesturing Ellysia Kosh, who chose that moment to glance their way. She immediately recognized her husband’s private aircar and pointed, gesticulating wildly. Simon couldn’t read lips, but the meaning was clear. Men were running for aircars and scrambling aboard.

  Marianna had seen the whole thing as well, and she exclaimed, “Uh oh. Spotted. I'm putting her down right by the water tower, right by that first batch of huts.”

  She put her down a whole lot faster than she liked, bouncing once before coming to a shivering stop. Everybody scrambled out and ran for the huts, but the black aircar wasn’t in any of them. Shallcross and Pearlman ran across the tarmac to the next group and disappeared into one of the huts. A silver ship landed alongside the Director’s aircar and a half dozen soldiers piled out, guns at the ready, not quite knowing what to expect.

  “We’re just looking for our aircar,” Simon smiled, holding up a hand. “None of you has seen it, by any chance, have you? It’s a big black one with a big white star.”

  The soldiers looked at each other, unsure of their response. An officer came out of the ship and a ground car came clattering up, spewing dust and gravel from the tarmac shoulder.

  “Well,” Ellysia Kosh said, hopping nimbly from the ground car, “I might have known.”

  “Our bargain is completed, Mrs. Kosh,” Simon said. “Neal Hernandez may or may not have escaped the catastrophe. Whatever the case, there’s no reason to keep us here any longer. I expect you to honor your word.”

  “And I shall, Mr. Pure. You’re free to go. So many strange and awful things have happened lately that I believe it’s best not to have someone to remind me of them.”

  “Ah, madame,” Khalid bowed. “How distressed I am to hear of your husband's passing. How kind and generous he was!” He grinned, white teeth against a swarthy skin, neatly trimmed mustache crinkling with the smile, dark brown eyes glowing as they sought hers.

  “My, my,” she smiled back, visibly impressed, “a tall, dark and handsome one! And pretty silly looking in that bathrobe. I'll bet you were the canary!” a remark that mystified Marianna and Sandy.

  “It is my pleasure, madame,” Khalid said, bowing and smiling again. “Khalid Mafourri, your servant and admirer. There is much work to be done, madame, and many decisions to be made. You could do worse than have a friend.”

  She tapped her teeth thoughtfully with a red fingernail, made a decision and spun on her heel. “Okay Khalid, come along. And get some clothes on!”

  Khalid bowed to Marianna, kissing her hand. “The Avenger is a very lucky man,” he smiled, and Marianna rolled her eyes. He shook Juan Marie's hand and hugged him, telling him to take care of himself and that was one hell of a fight. He shook hands with Tal Avenger, said “Nice meeting you, Sandy,” and walked briskly toward the ground car, following Ellysia. He turned back once and waved and grinned. “Say goodbye to the two young men, please,” he called, and ducked into the ground car.

  “He'll do all right,” Marianna said, “he's just the kind she wants, docile, dumb and charming.”

  “I think there's more to him than that,” Simon said, watching the disappearing groundcar, and Marianna said, “There better be.”

  The familiar, high pitched sound of the big, black aircar’s turbines filled the air, and they turned to see their beautiful ship taxi out of one of the huts and head slowly across the tarmac.

  “Come on!” Simon cried. They ran across the field to the ship, now stopped and waiting, generators whining in the early morning mist, a beautiful sight and sound.

  They piled aboard, whooping and hollering like kids. Shallcross pulled a uniform out of the storage locker and handed it to Juan Marie, who quickly changed out of the red and silver bathrobe, feeling infinitely more comfortable for it.

  “Thank you, my friend,” Juan Marie said, settling in a seat and strapping himself in.

  “Everybody set?” Pearlman called, and gunned the engines. The big aircar taxied to the runway and lined up, ready to take off.

  “No tower,” Pearlman said, totally unconcerned. “Anybody see anything landing in front of us?” Without waiting for an ans
wer he kicked in the thrusters and the big ship began to roll.

  “Home sweet home,” Marianna said softly, sinking into her seat. The stories she’d have to tell her grandchildren! She looked speculatively at Simon, asleep already, and closed her eyes. If she had any grandchildren.

  “Where to, Sandy?” Pearlman called.

  “New Jersey, please,” Sandy answered, “just east of the lava fields, a place called Toms River. Ever hear of it?”

  “Nope,” Pearlman said, “but if it's still there, I'll find it.”

  Toms River was two hours flying time away, and Pearlman had her on autopilot. Shallcross took the seat next to Pearlman and was soon engaged in young man conversation with his friend. Juan Marie and Sandy engaged in quiet conversation, for Marianna and Simon were asleep.

  Sandy told Juan Marie of his life, and the life of his friends. “Got a good wife and two good boys,” Sandy said. “Life can’t get any better than that.”

  “I’m curious about the lava fields,” Juan Marie said carefully. “Do you ever question the strangeness of it all? Have you ever thought them out of the ordinary, magical almost?”

  Perplexed, Sandy said, “No, I don't remember seein' any magic, lessen you mean handkerchiefs and rabbits and such.”

  Juan Marie nodded. They were just ordinary sulfur cone lava fields as far as Sandy was concerned, a part of his world, and so not to be questioned.

  They landed in a clearing outside Toms River and Sandy said he could get home easy from here. They said goodbye, Marianna and Simon awake from their naps. Juan Marie followed Sandy out of the ship and over to the highway.

  “It’s a nice easy walk from here,” Sandy said. “Might even catch a ride.”

  “Say hello to your boys.”

  “I’ll do that,” Sandy said. “Sure hope that old hound made it. Been thinkin’ of him just about every minute.”

  Juan Marie stood by the side of the highway, watching Sandy walk away. As he watched, Sandy seemed to waver, mirage-like, in the heat waves rising from the concrete paving. A few more steps and Sandy was invisible from the waist down, the space below his belt a shimmering wave of hot summer air. In another moment Sandy had disappeared entirely, and the road was empty for as far as Juan Marie could see. When he turned, the aircar was gone, where it had been, an empty field.