Morlock Night

by KW Jeter

  At last he spoke. "Who are, you?" he snapped. "What are you doing here?" There was a heavy accent to his deep pitched voice, as though the inflections of our English were unsuited to his vocal mechanism.

  "Come, come," I said in feigned exasperation. "Merdenne told me you people ran a slipshod operation down here, but this surpasses all my expectations. You mean to tell me you've made no preparations for our arrival?"

  The Morlock's suspicious manner did not dissi pate. "You had best explain yourself," he said in his slow, grating voice.

  "Of all the–" I shook my head and sighed in disgust. "Merdenne told you nothing of our coming here?"

  "What do you know about Merdenne?"

  "Apparently more than you, my good man. I am in possession of his latest instructions concerning your little, ah, manoeuvres down here, shall we say? And if you value your rank you'll bloody well pay attention to what we've come here for. There's quite a genuine little crisis going on, if you're not aware of it yet, and it's going to take some unusual measures to ward off disaster for us all. Do you understand my words?"

  The procession of thoughts behind the Morlock's eyes was almost painfully obvious. He at last decided to fish for more information. "Please explain," he said in a slightly more polite manner, "what it is to which you are referring."

  "My dear fellow," I said, "I'm not about to stand here surrounded by your little hooligans with their rusty pikestaffs, and try to explain a very complicated situation to you. My colleague and I have already tramped through miles of loathsome wet sewers to reach your wretched little camp. I'm not acquainted with the amenities of your colony, but we would both like large containers of hot water, soap if you have it, though that seems doubtful from the aroma of your platoon here, and as decent a hot meal as you can provide. I'm not expecting every refinement but damn it all, man, this invasion is a civilised business, and we should conduct ourselves accordingly, don't you think." I lifted my chin and gazed down my nose at him.

  The word invasion evoked a noticeable response from him. For a moment the large circular eyes goggled a fraction of an inch larger at me. It was now clear to him that we were privy to the purpose of the Morlock's presence here beneath London. Were we indeed allies of whom he had heretofore been ignorant? Or simply well-informed adversaries? The possibilities moiled around behind his eyes.

  "Well, come on then," I said impatiently. "When Merdenne gets back he won't be very pleased to hear of these uncalled-for difficulties you've put us through." A scrap of doubt was still visible in the Morlock's face. "Very well. I don't much care for waving this about among a crowd of underlings, but if there's no other way of convincing you…"

  I unstrapped the bundle from my back, brought it in front of me and undid the cloths. The mob of lesser Morlocks stood on tiptoe to see, pummelling each other into silence. Across my outstretched hands lay the sword Excalibur, an awesome sight even in its weakened condition. The blade reflected the available light, gleaming like dark glass over the deepest fires of the Earth.

  The Morlocks, after several moments of gorging their saucerish eyes, stepped back a respectful distance from Tafe and myself – all except the tall, commanding one. He stood facing us, a new element having entered the calculations running through his head. "How did you come to have that?" he said, after a few seconds.

  I began wrapping up the sword again. "Well, well," I said, "now just how do you suppose it came into my possession? Do you think I'd have it if I wasn't very well supposed to have it? Merdenne put it into my keeping, obviously." I tucked the bundle under my arm and glared at our interrogator.

  "Why did he do that?"

  "See here," I ground out, my face rigid with anger. "I'm damn well sick and tired of your infernal timewasting inquisition. There's a bloody good reason for my having this thing, and it's going to be on your head if all our plans are fouled up. So just you trot along and lead us to the things I requested. There's a lot to be done."

  The last shred of his scepticism wavered in the face of my onslaught, then was gone. He nodded respectfully, turned and snapped out orders in his guttural native tongue to all the other Morlocks. They scurried down the passage toward the dim blue light ahead of us.

  "This way, sir," said the now obsequious Morlock. He pivoted on his heel and led the way. Tafe caught my eye and delivered a large wink over her triumphant grin. The gambit's initial moves had succeeded – but what of the rest that remained to be played?

  The Morlocks, as it turned out, were already anticipating the comforts they would derive from the conquest of the England far above their heads. The Morlock officers – for they were entirely organised on a military basis – enjoyed a great many comforts that Merdenne had arranged to be sent down in devious ways from the better London shops. The regular Morlock soldiers, of course, lived in the same rude fashion as common fighting men through all times and places do, and expect to.

  In the apartment of Colonel Nalga, the Morlock officer whose confidence we had won, I luxuriated in a steaming hot tub, soaking away the accumulated filth and grime from our long sojourn in the London sewers. A decanter of Fortnum and Mason's best port lay near to hand. I lavished the cake of Pears over myself, forgetting for a moment our precarious situation as I wallowed in the sheer animal pleasure of hot water and soap. Adventures, I reflected, are all very fine but a certain amount of civilised comfort forms the true kernel of our desires.

  At last I emerged from the bath, my heart considerably cheered and rededicated to the preservation of our English values.

  A patented safety razor still in its box lay on the wash stand, and with it I tidied the edges of my beard. When my toilet was completed the face that peered back at me from the looking glass was undoubtedly my own, but changed somehow. The nearness of death, which even now was hovering close at hand, had burnt away the juvenility of my face, exposing the hard, decisive bones beneath. Or so I fancied – others simply might have thought that I hadn't been eating on a regular basis, and been right, too.

  During my bath my clothes had been sponged, mended and pressed by the colonel's valet. Not a bad job of it, either. Very likely the Morlocks had had time enough to learn how to handle stains from the sewer's effluences. I dressed and sauntered out, sighing and drawing upon one of the fine Havana cigars the valet had placed in the breast pocket of my coat.

  Tafe and Col. Nalga were waiting for me in the drawing room of his quarters. "Mr. Hocker," said the Morlock officer, smiling and fingering one of the insignia on the front of his uniform. "Your colleague Mr. Tafe and I were just discussing the – what is the word? – details of your journey down to our little encampment. I feel I must apologise for the inconvenience of our location."

  "Think nothing of it," I said magnanimously, waving the fumourous end of my cigar in a grand gesture. "Hardships are only natural in time of war, what? Soon enough we'll be conducting our business from inside the House of Lords itself! A bright future awaits us, Colonel." I spotted the wrapped Excalibur lying on a sideboard. Picking it up, I saw that the distinctive knots with which I had bound it were still intact. I had been a little uneasy at first in trusting it to the Morlock, but had finally done so in order not to appear suspicious. Apparently my decision had turned out for the best.

  "Let us hope so, Mr. Hocker," said Col. Nalga. "The preparations continue even as we stand here and talk. The unexplained disappearance of Merdenne has caused some confusion but we have maintained our efforts. We are even a few days ahead of the original time schedule that was set up for the invasion, and the assurances that you have given us that nothing is amiss with our trusted ally Merdenne will be a further boost to the morale of the lower ranks. As you say, things will soon be very different." His ghastly pale face split into a smile like that the Mongol invader must have worn when he first spied the unspoiled fields of Europe.

  "Quite commendable indeed," I said heartily, although my spirit was chilled by his words. Ahead of schedule – how much time then was left? I immediately regrette
d the slothful half-hour that I had spent soaking in my enemy's bathtub while a whole green world ran down the drainpipe. "I'm sure," I continued, addressing the Morlock, "that the work of individuals such as yourself will not go lightly rewarded."

  He returned my courteous half-bow. "Living space for my people is all the reward I desire to see. In the far future this globe is under our entire dominion. It is merely our destiny to rule it through all the past and present as well. I'm glad that there are a few individuals of your breed who have the foresight to recognise this."

  "Indeed." The scope of the creature's ambition, presumably shared by all the members of his race, touched a cold base in my spine. Here was our enemy's face nakedly exposed. "My fears are, however," I said, "that all this elaborate preparation will be of little value if the current crisis facing us is not speedily resolved. Merdenne, the guiding hand of so much of our efforts, is already engaged in turning back the attempts of certain forces who wish to hinder our plans. Of one of them you may have heard – the one called Dr. Ambrose. If there were more time available to us I would explain the nature of Merdenne's present struggle to you. Suffice it to say that his presence is needed elsewhere. So sudden was the onslaught of our foes' machinations that there was, as you have noted, no time to inform his allies here of the need for his absence."

  "It sounds like a grim situation," said Col. Nalga with rumbling graveness. "What can we do to assist him here?"

  "Unfortunately, very little. The success or failure of Merdenne's fight against our enemies depends almost entirely upon his own powers. There are certain things he needs, though, and Mr. Tafe here and I have been dispatched by him on the errand of fetching those items out of hiding and bringing them back to him. Without them there is little chance of his winning the day against our foes; with them his victory and later ours is assured. Quite a simple matter really." I puffed on the cigar, adding tobacco smoke to the verbal haze I had created in the room.

  "And, Mr. Hocker, what are these items?" said Col. Nalga.

  "This is one of them, right here," I said and lifted Excalibur in its wrappings. "The three other copies of this sword that were produced through the agency of the Time Machine are now needed as well by Merdenne. That is the errand Mr. Tafe and I have come upon."

  "I see," said Col. Nalga, sombrely. "Doubtless Merdenne needs the swords for some magical purpose?"

  "Correct. At first he believed that it was sufficient merely to keep the swords out of the hands of Dr. Ambrose, but it has now become apparent that they must be actively employed in our behalf. I am aware that you have had your friends from the Lost Coin World turn over to you the sword that had come into their possession–"

  "That was a decision from higher up in the chain of command," interrupted Col. Nalga. "It was felt by some of our generals that, given the unexplained absence of Merdenne, it would be wise to secure the sword someplace more under our control than the Grand Tosh. Hence its removal by our allies from there."

  "A wise decision," I said, "given the circumstances. In matters such as this it's a good thing to be cautious. But that necessity is at an end now. If you will produce the sword we can start our journey back with it to Merdenne."

  "Yes, of course." The Morlock officer nodded. "However, the sword is not right here at hand, but it is only a shaft distance away. We put it in the safest hiding place we could think of. I'll take you to it right now, if you'll care to follow me." He stepped to the door and opened it with a courteous bow. After following us out, he led the way from his quarters.

  Our luck had held so far. The Morlock officer had communicated his belief in our statements to his higher-ups and our claim to being Merdenne's assistants had been accepted without a qualm by them. My spirits were greatly elevated at the prospect of successfully completing this stage of our quest with so little difficulty. Much still lay before Tafe and myself to be done, but at least the hope of accomplishing it had returned to my breast.

  Col. Nalga led us out of the officers' complex – several Morlock lieutenants and other officers saluted as we went by – and past the enlisted men's barracks. The enormous space that the Morlocks had excavated belied the fact that it was so far under the surface of the Earth. Somewhere above our heads Londoners were going about their business, all unaware of the desperate gambles we were pursuing beneath their feet. How I longed to be with those solid citizens in the English sunshine, or even the good cleansing rain, once more!

  Past the towering stockpiles of supplies and weapons went our little procession. Scores of the squat-bodied, less intelligent Morlocks were sweating like navvies as they scurried to and fro, pushing pallets of crates across the cavern's floor. Col. Nalga stopped and pointed with pride to the furious activity and the enormous amount of the stores. "You see?" he boasted. "And this is only the smallest fraction of our preparations. What chance do the puny surface dwellers have against an invasion force such as this?"

  I managed to suppress any sign of the chill that had condensed in my vitals at his words, and smiled back at him. "No chance at all," I agreed. "When Merdenne finishes with this small affair, I'm sure you'll sweep across England like a tidal wave." My own words felt nauseating in my throat.

  We went on toward the very centre of the Morlock encampment. Beyond the barracks and the stockpiles was an open space with a large square building in the middle of it. "This is where you're keeping the sword?" I asked as we approached the construction. "Seems rather conspicuous for a hiding place, don't you think?"

  An enigmatic smile formed on Col. Nalga's pallid face. "There is more to it," he said quietly, "than what you can see."

  With a key attached by a long chain lanyard to his belt, the Morlock officer unlocked a large panel on the side of the building and drew it aside. In the dimly lit interior I could make out the form of some type of mechanical apparatus that was the only thing occupying the space. "What is this contraption?" I said, somewhat annoyed. "I don't see any sword here."

  "Patience, Mr. Hocker," said Col. Nalga. He lit a lantern that hung down from the ceiling of the building. By its light I could clearly see the details of the apparatus and recognised it instantly.

  This was the Time Machine. Before us squatted the root of all the evil that had descended upon us, the device that had made possible the entry of a plague such as the Morlocks upon our green and undefiled land. My mind flew back to that long distant, or so it seemed, evening when the Time Machine's inventor had sat in his parlour and regaled his guests with the story of the Machine's creation and his subsequent adventures with it. The fool! If he had only realised what he was unleashing upon the world through his meddling with the laws of the universe. But no, he died happily ignorant of the final results, and it was left to us to reap the bitter storm whose seeds he had unwittingly sown.

  After my first emotional reaction upon seeing the Time Machine, I was able to note the many details that gibed with its inventor's description of it to his audience. The saddle, the gleaming control levers, the faintly shimmering section that seemed somehow unreal, the finely detailed workmanship all reinforced my conclusion. This could only be the Time Machine itself. How long would it be before a restrengthened King Arthur stood where I was and plunged the true Excalibur into the Machine's metal and crystal vitals?

  I suddenly realised that I had been staring at the apparatus for some time without saying anything. Col. Nalga was watching me intently when I turned to face him. "So this is the device Merdenne has told us so much about!" I gestured at it with one hand. "The scientific marvel that makes all our plans possible. I'm really quite pleased, Colonel, that you took the time to show it to us. You've satisfied a deeply held curiosity on my part, I'll have you know. But time is pressing, unfortunately, and I feel we should return to our business and move along to wherever it is you've hidden the sword. Shall we proceed then?"

  The same smile as before moved across Col. Nalga's face like a thin cloud across the moon. "I'm afraid I didn't make myself quite clear, Mr. Hocker. I sai
d that our copy of Excalibur was not here, but could readily be fetched. To dispel the mystery, the sword has actually been taken to the far future through the use of the Time Machine here. My fellow Morlocks up ahead in our native time period have placed the sword in their safekeeping."

  Without wishing to, I blinked and stared at the Morlock officer. So Professor Felknap's suspicions had proved correct. "This– this is absurd," I stammered. "What's the idea of this continuous shilly-shallying about? I suggest you hop aboard that damned thing and go fetch the sword back here this instant!" My feigned wrath was the only cover I could create for the apprehension I felt at this new development disrupting the flow of events that I had been anticipating.

  "Please control your anger, Mr. Hocker." Col. Nalga held up a mollifying hand. "Our desire to safeguard the sword led to our decision to remove it from this time and take it to our own. Surely there is no fault in that?"

  "Perhaps not," I said, allowing myself to appear somewhat calmer. "But the moment has come to bring it back to this time, and with the greatest possible dispatch. Please do so. We'll wait for you here."