“Wait,” said Louis, explaining about the tent thrown by Jim overnight. “wouldn’t placing the neutron beam target inside such a tent be the best way of producing a confining second barrier? I imagine that cause and effect is over in fractions of a second and too fast for our cloak thrower.”
“Billionths of a second,” agreed Newton, “Can this tent be moved to the accelerator’s collider room?”
“If the bed inside is dismantled, I am sure it can, it appears to have a degree of acceptance of folding and compacting. Or maybe, Jim can throw another such container. Lim, will you come and see,” asked Louis, “I’ll organise the dismantling of the bed.”
“We can also see if Jim can somehow rig the closure of the tent to the event, preferably electronically. Some way of activating a zipper as it were,” Said Lim.
Louis and Lim left Newton to the work of demolishing a pile of breakfast. Intent on their mission, neither one of them noticed the gathering gloom outside the facility and the perimeter battles between security guards and disciples of The Needful One. The National guard had been called in and had established road barriers further out from Oakridge, but fieldsmen of the brigade of rednecks were finding ways through and were using their considerable firepower against those who tried to intercept and capture them. But it was the sky which was to capture all attention.
Chapter Eighteen – That Ain’t Rain, Is It?
Louis and Lim found Tracy and Jim staring out of the window of Tracy’s room. As they entered, Jim slipped his arm away from Tracy’s shoulders, turning to say;
“Come and look at this,”
“Look at what,” said Louis, peering out at the landscape.
“No,” said Jim, “Look up, up at the sky.”
The dark grey of the sky had become as reflective as a pond in a topsy turvey world. A super mirage which, at the horizon actually reflected the colours of the distant rooftops below.
“Weird,” said Louis and turned away to give instructions about the dismantling of Jim’s bed from within the silicene tent in the adjacent room. Technicians were working on that simple task in minutes. Louis returned to the companions.
“What’s happening out there?”
“See for yourself,” breathed Jim, ”I can’t fathom it.”
The great inverted pond of the sky was rippling gently and now it began to display the dimpling as of falling raindrops. Each drop puddled rings in its greyness. Like flies landing on water.
“Maybe this is some local weather anomaly,” said Louis, “They have lots of severe weather events here in the States....”
“No,” said Lim, “this is not a simple weather event, this is The Needful One’s work. He is mounting a show for his disciples in the hope that they can successfully storm this facility. We must get the tent to the collider.”
“Wait,” said Jim, “this really is a show to end all shows.”
The upward rain dotting the lake that was the grey sky intensified and the impact point in each set of concentric, puddling rings became a darker hole. And from each hole emerged an apparition. Though very distant, the Companions could detect winged forms riding golden creatures. Louis purloined the room’s birder binoculars and stared out.
“He really knows how to set alarms running,” he said.
“What can you see,” asked Lim.
“Those puddles must be some sort of portal, and from within those portals the creatures emerging are some kind of representation of a horned Pan riding on golden.....” he turned to look at the Companions, then turned back, “riding on golden tigers.”
“No levitating away from them, then” growled Lim, “let’s get that tent to the collider.”
The silicene tent had virtually no weight and accommodated their pushing and squeezing through doorways and down stair wells. An express lift big enough to take several wheeled hospital beds whisked them down to the collider level where security details were already making arrangements to protect the facility, sensibly working from the lowest levels upwards.
The Collider room was a tangle of pipes and tubes and toroidal magnetic field generating equipments. Cables snaked through the glitter that was more often than not pure gold. The target platform accommodated the silicene tent, but there was no time to devise a method of closing the tent opening. An adjustable lectern was used to position the silicene cloaked kitten in the target area and inside the tent. Everyone retreated to a shielded room with all the control consoles. Professor Slovic had already started the linear accelerators and neutron streams and a speckling of a low powered beam dappled the kitten in the bag. The larger bag beside Jim, rippled and swirled and pulsed with red anger.
“No need for a dramatic countdown,” said Newton, anxious that Professor Slovic should not create an atmosphere demonstrating technical prowess.
“Zen fire!” said Professor Slovic, lifting a perspex safety cover and pressing the predictable red button beneath.
There was a loud bang, a sizzling noise and Jim leapt forward to seal the silicene tent’s flap. In this endeavour he was too late. The target silicene bag within had collapsed and released its contents which drifted harmlessly away through Professor Slovic’s detector field. Of the kitten there was no sign.
“Well,” said Professor Slovic, “we detected not a drop of anti-matter, but a small amount of hydrogen atoms. Goot.”
Jim collected the punctured silicene bag from the tent, balled it, placed it in the crook of his elbow and jerked his arm straight, expecting the ball to fly forward and into his hand. But the silicene spread down his arm, soaked in and disappeared.
“I suppose that’s good,” said Jim.
“Right, now for the bigger event,” said Newton, picking up the second silicene bag wherein the ghastly apparition of Edvard Munch’s ‘Scream” now writhed before them. “Odd to think that Man can now conquer evil thanks to the power of his scientific mind.”
“Gosh,” muttered Tracy, “then what can Woman do!”
The writhing silicene bag was placed on the target lectern and Professor Slovic again powered up the linear accelerator and the neutron stream. Without formality, and with the onlookers standing with folded arms, he pressed the red button and produced the familiar bang of the projected beam.
The silicene bag exploded, showering the air inside the tent with streams of material resembling egg whites boiled into a thin soup. They rose and totally obscured the lectern on which the target had sat. When the shreds of silicene settled, an elderly guru in a loin cloth sat on the lectern with legs folded into the lotus position. The guru had short stunted horns and eyes of blazing red. He had the legs and feet of a goat.
“Very energising,” he said, hopping down from the lectern which toppled away and rolled to one side, “I sacrificed my kittenish behaviour to make you believe in your powers. Of course, some regeneration will be required. If you follow me outside, do beware the tigers.”
Aghast, the silent onlookers watched the beast reshape his legs into those of the Indian aesthete who had been his model. He strolled around the target area and stood looking at Jim. Quick as a flash, Jim sprang into a half crouch and flung forward his hand. The silicene cloak flew out and was easily caught by The Needful One. Caught brought down and rolled into a small ball. The needful One tossed the ball back to Jim with a chuckle.
“Very light material,” he hissed balefully, “and you know how evil abhors the light. I confess that silicene might work on the tigers, so I will order them to withdraw. Even though they number thousands. My disciples will be sufficient to the great task and are the only agents allowed to influence other mortals.”
“Contrary to expectation you appear to have both plan, strategy, tactics and intent,” said Newton.
“Not at all. I am just another Alpha and Omega. All the rest of the stuff you mention is simply drawn from your minds. Perhaps not your minds, on reflection, but certainly from the minds of those outside these facilities, my playful disciples.”
The demon paused
and tapped his lips with a clawed forefinger, “but I see that your minds have some mythical creatures in them too. A Potter and a Voldemort, remembered from a tale for children. What if I recreated their exploits with but a different outcome.”
“That would be an act of plagiarism and I am sure a lack of originality does not appeal,” said Lim. He was desperate to prevent this fiend from infesting the world with characters drawn from the genius of Rowling.
“I have no intention of playing those games,” The Needful One aped open-mouthed surprise, “Oh, there I go again, talking about intention. Quite unsuitable for a mere agglomeration of anti-matter, don’t you think, Mister Newton. No, I will pursue my original plan and persuade the Americans to start a nuclear war. They are nearly there thanks to a certain General. But it has to be persuasion so that I meet the terms of my bargain with what you call God, that errant “father’ figure so prone to favouritism. Enough! I will pause to regenerate somewhat then go to see your leader, your present leader. I believe the exit is via yon stairwell. I shall exit stage right for our theatrical little Tracy. No, I shall do a cinematic ‘dissolve’ for her, and exit stage right in a golden cloud.”
“What will it profit you if you obliterate most of the souls you want to persuade to follow God!” said Lim.
“Well, I don’t want the queue of disciples to be overcrowded. Besides nuclear incineration destroys only bodies. What you call their ‘souls’ will not even be scorched. Just a little reproached and subdued. Ciao, bambinos.”
The Needful One bowed and in the same movement burst into a golden shower of atoms which, totally disembodied, drifted away to the stairwell, sweeping out and up.
The air of deflation was palpable. Jim was sorry that he had not brought his beanie hat so that he could throw it to the floor and stamp on it. Newton and Slovic scarcely looked at each other and Lim and Tracy shook sorrowful heads. Louis felt that action was his only hope of lifting his mood;
“Right,” he said, “I have to go to the surface and see what the American troops have had to endure at the hands of demons riding on tigers. And I want to see what else is happening in the Prince of Darkness’s domain. I would like you to come with me.” The invite was plainly addressed to the Companions and not to Newton and Slovic who were now absorbed in tinkering with the machinery which had freed The Needful One.
The journey up to the surface was accomplished in silence. Everyone felt the need for fresh air and they unsealed and exited the main doors to the collider block after a careful check of the baleful sky. There was no sign of aerial demons.
“Where are John Wayne’s Flying Tigers,” mused Louis, a fan of old film.
“Withdrawn according to The Needful One,” said Lim, “whom none should trust.”
They walked out on to the green lawn avoiding the sprinklers which had activated. The sun seemed harsh and uninviting, but the lake of grey that had been the sky was now a clear blue stretching away into the multiverse. What few troops there were in the area seemed to be shaken but not in any way harmed. Louis spoke to several officers and ascertained that the demons descending from the sky towards them had reined back and exploded into showers of golden vapour that dissipated on the wind.
“True to his word,” said Tracy, “that is probably part of his plan of persuasion for the Father of Lies.”
Without thinking, Lim said;
“John 8:44, When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for he is a liar, and the father of it.”
“Do you know the bible by heart?” asked Tracy.
“Apparently so,” said Lim, “but not from any study of it, I can assure you.”
“Another Superpower then,” said Jim, “You are hogging all the aces!”
“Do you know anything about this father of lies that could be useful?” asked Tracy, “there must be a reason why you have been given...” She paused abruptly.
They had just rounded the corner of the building and there standing as if sentinels was a fully fledged tiger mounted by a horned and winged figure of Pan. But beside it, writhing and hissing in resplendent scarlet livery was the unmistakable shape of a dragon. Its rider was yet another of the Pan figures.
“He said he had withdrawn the tigers!” gasped Louis reaching his machine pistol round to the front.”
“I lied,” said the dragon-riding Pan in a guttural and stagey voice that echoed. “You are not surprised I hope. Now that you have seen my power and majesty and capabilities, you should use that biblical knowledge of your leader to good effect. Acknowledge me as your Saviour and so advise your Heavenly Father in prayer. That is all that is required for you to avoid a death in Armageddon. I may persuade, but some of my disciples are, shall we say, heavy handed through no fault of mine. ” There was no disguised the heavy sarcasm in the words, ‘Heavenly Father”.
The dragon and the tiger strolled around the little group before turning away and leaping skyward.
The companions watched until the riders disappeared into a thick bank of cloud.
“It is odd,” said Lim, “but every time he appears he tells me something. Those creatures came from my subconscious, I am sure of it. The livery of the dragon was straight from memory.”
“He didn’t frighten me,” said Jim, despite being visibly shaken, and comforting a tearful Tracy.
“Maybe,” said Louis, “I should have stocked up on silver bullets,” he looked anxiously at Lim who staggered and almost fell.
Lim began to moan and rock from side to side holding his head and uttering whispered gibberish. He was obviously in increasing pain and distress and Jim and Tracy gripped and hugged him. Lim’s eyes rolled skyward and his voice came out in thick, slurred accents;
“No... I... do .. not worship... you...” he grated, then really struggling to force out the words, “This... is... not... persuasion... Heavenly... Father.”
The torment passed from Lim and he fell into his Companions arms but recovered almost instantly, forcing himself erect.
“No, it is OK,” he said, “he nearly took possession of me, but he can be resisted if he is reminded that he has to persuade.”
Jim brushed him down; “I thought you were just attention seeking,” he said.
“Jim!” remonstrated Tracy, “be serious.”
“Jim was not far wide of the mark,” said Lim, “if we are in a battle of good versus evil, then invoking the aid of Heavenly Father might force proper observation of the rules of this war! Remember everyone, tiger and dragon attacks, virtual or real are not acts of persuasion, nor are direct assaults by The Needful One himself. It is not silver bullets we need, Louis, but silver words and clever ploys. Suppose The Needful One does rely on our inmost thought to function. Maybe it is there that we can lay the trap. And this time it cannot be a silicene net. Help me, you guys. If The Needful One draws an image of a dragon from my subconscious, how can we feed him something that will entrap.”
Louis satellite phone squawked and he unhooked it and held it to his ear, “He’s appeared again, in several military towns across the USA, UK, Russia and China,” he said grimly, “doubtless at his persuasive best. Oddly, he has also appeared in another, non military location town and you’ll never guess where...”
“King’s Lynn,” said Tracy.
“Yes,” said Louis, ”but over the site of some garden area or allotments off Gannock Terrace.”
“My dad’s allotment,” gasped Lim, “and today is Dad’s allotment day. I must go there.”
“We must go there,” corrected Jim, “you’re hopeless without us watching your back. And we now have at least half the superpowers that you might need.”
“Look,” said Louis, “Jim is right. I have to see what is happening with the attacks on UK military and intelligence services. You go to Lynn and take sat phones. Keep in touch with me, but see what you can do. You clearly have more weapons than most. But first of all, I will have your father diverted from his programmed allotment day. He will be safer in our bunker at Northolt. He is
familiar with that from his service days. In fact the Lim family could do with a bunker holiday.”
The Companions were equipped with satellite phones and Louis hurried away to a nearby portal, “And remember Lim’s words, The Needful One cannot harm you directly, only through his disciples. But I think you are three people he must persuade rather than kill. Make your preparations first.”
“Wait,” said Tracy, reaching for her phone and the portal app, “you might need a portal that has unrestricted access.” She activated the app and established a portal a few feet away. She typed, ‘the Walks, King’s Lynn’ and locked on to the park bench. Louis hurried through still busy with his sat phone.
Lim spoke to his father by cellphone and the family moved out to an agreed rendezvous at the railway station. Louis men commandeered taxis and whisked them all away to the Walks and supervised their portal transfer to the Northolt bunker.
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