The Silent Vulcan

by James Follett

  This time her mounting sensation of dread caused her to call out, "Hallo! I'm here!"

  "Who's that?"

  Vikki gave a gasp of fear. The voice that had answered was very close, male, deep with a strange, resonate quality. She wanted to turn and run, but without the torch she would be certain to fall and injure herself. She preferred not to think about the terrible consequences of being caught in daylight with a twisted ankle or a broken leg. The radio station had reported that Pentworth House was offering a huge reward for her capture.

  Suddenly a faint glow suffused the lake. She wheeled around and watched the rocket climbing into the sky above Pentworth. It was a signal flare; it burst into a brilliant white light that seemed to hang motionless in the night haze. At this distance the light it created was the equivalent of a full moon.

  "You must be Vikki," said Dario.

  Chapter 25.

  ARNIE TRINDER HAD NO IDEA why he said that to the girl standing by the lake -- the words they wanted him to say just swam into his head. The tall West Indian and his colleague, Nevil Rigsby, were Department of Trade and Industry radio interference inspectors who had been sent to Pentworth the previous March to investigate powerful radio emissions that were interfering with the aircraft navigation beacon at Midhurst. Their direction-finding equipment had led them to the flooded lake that had been made doubly treacherous due to surface run off water from the South Downs in the wake of recent severe storms. Much to their surprise, their equipment had indicated that the transmissions were actually coming from the lake. Convinced that all they had to find was an electronic bug planted by someone with a warped sense of mischief and a good knowledge of radio, they had waded into the lake's swamped margins to search for an antenna.

  The soft bed had given way beneath them. Both men were weighed down with heavy direction-finding equipment. They had struggled desperately to extricate themselves from the clinging mud but their frantic thrashing aggravated the situation. Trinder's last clear memories were hearing Rigsby's panic-stricken screams and the thought that he would never see his family in Jamaica again. And then the waters had closed over him and his body sank into the depths.

  Although he had no sense of the passage of time, he knew that a long period had passed when something akin to consciousness began seeping back.

  He was at the centre of a strange blackness that pervaded every corner of what he supposed was his reason. He was dead. He knew he was dead. He accepted that he was dead.

  And yet...

  Yet if he were dead, how could he be possessed of self-awareness to know that he was dead? It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. Not even the blinding lights that were suddenly floating above him. Pictures flitted in and out of his confused mind like moths attracted to and yet wary of a lamp. There was an image swimming before him, blurred and indistinct. Concentrating on it required very little effort because there was nothing else to see. The picture cleared yet he was no wiser until he realised that what he was seeing was a cross section picture of the human eye. But it wasn't a static picture: patterns of light, possessed of a strange energy, were racing along what he supposed was the optic nerve and flooding portions of his brain. Trinder had no medical knowledge but he knew that no earthly science could produce such vivid 3-D images of a complete neural system and exclude everything else. He blinked. An instant later all the neural activity in the image flicked off and back on again and he knew that what he was seeing was himself -- his own eyes -- his own retinas responding in harmony with the strange, impenetrable lights.

  Your optical facilities are fully restored.

  They were not words in his mind but concepts expressed by whoever they were beyond the lights. He could not see them but he could sense their awesome presence.

  And so it went on like that. Drifting in and out of consciousness. And the returns to what he assumed were periods of consciousness were always accompanied by the strange, unspoken yet insistent command-concepts. Lift your left leg.

  Lift both arms.

  On one occasion even his reproductive system came under intense scrutiny.

  Trinder had no idea how long this went on for. Weeks... Months perhaps. He didn't know or care. Then the presences beyond the lights wanted him to speak. So he spoke:

  "Am I dead?"

  He sensed their uncertainty.

  Your companion... We did our best... We are not like you. We cannot work miracles.

  He assumed the presences were referring to Rigsby, and tried to ponder the meaning of this curious answer but he was tired. All he could manage was to repeat:

  "Am I dead?"

  A picture of a wristwatch formed in his mind. The hands suddenly advanced an hour. It was like one of those simple conventions used in old movies to indicate the passage of time. It amused Trinder. Why not show him an ashtray filling slowly with cigarette ends? But the image served its purpose and he knew how long he had to live.

  "An hour? Why bother?"

  So that you may bear a gift.

  Another enigmatic answer that he could not get them to clarify no matter how hard he concentrated.

  She will probably call you Dario.

  "Who will?"

  You will know.

  "Is that my name?"

  It is now.

  "But I'm Arnie Trinder."

  You were. But now you are Dario. You even look like him. Her name is Victoria. You must call her Vikki.

  "I will die in an hour?"

  A pause, then:

  We don't think you ever die.

  Another maddeningly meaningless answer.

  "What will happen to me afterwards?"

  Trinder sensed that they were keeping something from him. He formed the question again in his mind, trying to shape his meaning with forceful images.

  We do not know. That is why we are here.

  And then images were strong, insistent.

  It must be up to Vikki if she wants you and if you want to. There must be no force. This is important. You are two people exercising their freewill. We can only provide an opportunity.

  Suddenly they were gone and he was alone. Sensations flooded into his body. Normal sensations: the pressure of his body lying on his back; a cooling breeze. He even heard the buzz of midges. A wave of external stimuli washed over him with the shocking suddenness of a fall into a river. It was as though bodily feelings had been held back by a dam that had been suddenly breached.

  Arnie Trinder opened his eyes and sat up.

  It was night. A lake was beside him. Pentworth Lake, but no longer the expanse of swamp that he recalled when he and Nevil Rigsby had stumbled around its margins. There were distant lights in the direction of Pentworth, but not the harsh, steady glow of electric lights as one would expect of a small town. These were individual points of weak light. He climbed to his feet and realised that his body had undergone profound changes. He was taller, his muscles more pronounced, his chest deeper. His lankiness was no more, and his clothes were uncomfortably tight. The dry sand gave way underfoot in a manner that he attributed to his additional weight. Extraordinary as these changes were, he accepted them.

  A rocket climbed into the sky over the town and burst into a bright flare that hung like a miniature sun. Its distant glare was enough to illuminate the tall girl who was standing only a few metres away. Her golden hair was gathered into a ponytail. She hadn't seen him and was staring towards the town and the flare. Trinder was momentarily confused by contradictions. He knew this girl, and yet he had never seen her before.

  "You must be Vikki," he said.

  Chapter 26. Vikki's head snapped around and her eyes went wide with shock when she saw the figure of the man standing not ten metres away. His jeans, sweat shirt and anorak looked uncomfortably tight, as though they had been made for a smaller man.

  Recognition was instantaneous. `Dario!' she exclaimed.

  "Hallo, Vikki." Trinder smiled and held out his hands.

  Vikki rushed at him and threw her arms around hi
m. His body felt hard and unyielding as she remembered it in her dreams. "Oh, Dario... Dario... I knew you would come. I just knew."

  To Vikki's irritation, he seemed to be distracted. "Look." He pointed.

  She didn't want to take her eyes off the man she knew as Dario for an instant, but she turned and gazed at the sudden orange-yellow glow that permeated the haze over Pentworth. It grew brighter by the second. They could see flames leaping into the sky, silhouetting intervening rooftops.

  Vikki wasn't interested. She reached up and kissed the man she knew as Dario, tracing his finely-sculptured aristocratic features with her left hand as she had done on many occasions in her day dreams. When she touched his lips, his incredibly white teeth parted to gently grip her fingers, drawing them in, sucking slowly while pushing the tip of his tongue between her fingertips, melting away her reason.

  All Vikki would ever be able to recall with any clarity of the next ten minutes was the divine moment when she threw back her head and uttered a primeval cry that was neither ecstasy or pain, but triumph.

  As they dressed in silence, Vikki became aware of a mounting sensation of joy. It was almost the same feeling of euphoria she remembered when her new hand was growing. But this time there was a difference; this time pictures formed in her mind with a vivid, almost frightening clarity of what was happening to her body. She saw a huge globe surrounded by millions of wriggling, tadpole-like creatures, their tails lashing furiously. One broke through and the cell divided instantly into two cells. They, in turn, became four cells, swelling rapidly to maintain their size.

  And 4 were 8... Then 16... 32...

  They heard the harsh crackle of distant gunfire.

  "There is much to be done," said Dario softly.

  Together the couple started walking hand in hand towards the orange glow that was lighting up the sky.

  The night breeze sweeping across Pentworth Lake created surface ripples which meant that the disturbance caused by the spyder as it emerged from water went unnoticed. It advanced purposefully up the beach. Its sensors could see into the infra-red -- its surroundings were as day. It located Trinder and Vikki and set off to shadow them, its curiously articulated legs not making a sound as it moved across the grass. It had little difficulty absorbing the lights of the night so that its body reflected none, rendering it virtually invisible unless one knew exactly where to look.

  Dario's awesome masculine presence beside Vikki suddenly made her feel awkward and uncertain. She felt strangely detached from her body, hardly able to believe that she had actually allowed this majestic being beside her to make love to her, that she had wanted him to make love to her and had almost forced herself upon him. But she felt no remorse. There had been a rightness about the loss of her virginity that transcended all the mores of her Catholic upbringing.

  "It looks like Government House is on fire," she stammered.

  "Government House?"

  "Don't you know?"

  "Know what?" asked Trinder.

  There was the sound of a fire appliance's siren. The flames clawing into the night sky were now clearly visible.

  Vikki! Stop!

  The command was louder and stronger than Vikki had ever known. It burst like a roman candle in her head.

  She stopped. Trinder wanted to know what was the matter.

  "There will people about -- going to see what is happening."

  Trinder was puzzled. "Does that matter?"

  "There are wicked people in the town that want to kill me. They will kill you, too."

  "I'm already..." He broke off, appearing to be confused.

  "Already what, Dario?"

  Trinder's teeth gleamed in the gloom. "Dead." He added hastily, "Vikki -- my name isn't Dario. It's Arnie Trinder." He added, awkwardly. "About just now. I'm sorry..."

  Go back, Vikki! Go back your hiding place!

  Vikki drew Trinder's head down and kissed him. "There's nothing to be sorry for. It was what I wanted."

  "But I'm not your boyfriend. I'm not Dario."

  Vikki smiled. "I know that." She took his arm and steered him back to the path that led towards Ellen's cave and the brooding scarp of the Temple of the Winds.

  "We must hide before anyone finds us."

  "Where?"

  "I will show you."

  They walked through the cloying humidity of the night, talking in low tones, unaware that the spyder was trailing some thirty metres behind them. Vikki explained to Trinder about the cave and was astonished to discover that he knew nothing about the Wall or the misfortunes that had overtaken Pentworth since the previous March. They climbed the steep path that led towards the buff that Pentworth was built on and stopped near the concealed entrance to Ellen's cave.

  "What's that smell?" Trinder asked.

  Vikki put her hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle and explained about Ellen's ginkgo tree.

  "Sure does stink."

  "We must be very quiet so as not wake them," said Vikki, kneeling and pulling the turf away from the cave's entrance.

  "I can't stay with you," said Trinder, crouching beside Vikki and helping to remove the hurdle.

  The girl stopped work. "Why not?"

  "I have to return to the lake. They're calling me back. It's very strong. When they call, you have to obey."

  Vikki remained intent on clearing the loose soil from the opening so that her companion would not see her silent tears. "I know," she said dully.

  "You'll need me outside to make good here," said Trinder. "I'm sorry, Vikki, but I must go back."

  Vikki brushed the soil from her hands and entwined her arms around Trinder's neck, burying her face against his shoulder. "Hold me, Dario. Hold me tight. Just for a while." They remained like that for a minute, not speaking until Trinder eased her gently away and cradled Vikki's head in his hands. He considered her the loveliest creature he had ever beheld and wanted the moment to last forever, but the summonsing voice in his mind was becoming an insistent clarion call that he could not ignore.

  With one final, lingering kiss, Vikki wriggled into the opening. She turned for one last look at her beloved Dario but Trinder had pushed the hurdle into place.

  He spent a few minutes pressing the soil back into place with his bare hands and re-positioning the turfs as best he could, unaware that the spyder was watching him from a few metres away. Satisfied that the entrance to the cave was properly concealed, he brushed himself down and set off at a fast pace for Pentworth Lake.

  The spyder paused to inspect the cave's entrance and moved off to follow Trinder at a distance.

  If the machine's makers had not known where Vikki had been in hiding, they knew now.

  Chapter 27.

  ELLEN WAS SILENT FOR SOME moments when Vikki stopped talking. She didn't doubt a word of the teenager's story. The evidence that the Visitors were possessed of extraordinary abilities was the Wall, and Vikki's perfect left hand.

  David and Claire had finished dragging supplies into cave and were lining up the 5-litre containers of freshwater near the cooking area and generally tidying up, creating work while Ellen and Vikki were engrossed in conversation. David refilled the base of the Selby burner ring with carbon granules and checked that the forced draught hand plunger was working properly.

  "His name wasn't Dario," said Ellen firmly, concerned about Vikki's hold on reality. "You must get that out of your mind."

  "I know. But I'll always think of him as that."

  "You make it sound as though he is dead."

  "I think he is," Vikki answered, keeping her voice steady. "He seemed to think he was."

  "Do you know who Trinder was?"

  "No. But I think I've heard the name."

  "He was one of the two men that were drowned in my lake."

  Vikki's green eyes opened wide. "Yes -- I remember now. But that was months ago. Before the Wall appeared."

  "It was the day before the Wall appeared. And their bodies were never found."

  Vikki remained sile
nt.

  "And you let him make love to you?"

  There was defiance in Vikki's nod. "I wanted him to."

  "And he didn't use a condom?"

  "No."

  "How many days since your last period started?"

  The girl thought for a moment before answering.

  "Which means that They couldn't've chosen a worse time," said Ellen ruefully. "Or a better time..."

  "They?"

  "They!" Ellen snapped. She jumped up and stood over Vikki. "They? The Visitors or whatever they are! You could be pregnant, for God's sake!"

  The outburst caused Claire and David to stop what they were doing and gape in surprise.

  "I think I am pregnant!" Vikki retorted. "In fact I know I am."

  "Don't be absurd, child."

  "I tell you, I know! I don't why I know! But I do!"

  Ellen realised in that moment just how much the events of last month had changed Vikki. Being tried and condemned to death as a witch because she had grown a new hand, the amazing rescue from the scourging at the Temple of the Winds, several weeks imprisoned in this cave... And now this. The once demure schoolgirl who used to work Saturday mornings in her shop was no more. This was a new Vikki. More determined, more decisive, more certain of herself, more mature.

  Claire sat beside Vikki and took the girl's hand. Vikki snatched it away. "I'm not some child that needs comforting," she said, as though underlining Ellen's conclusions.

  "We've finished unloading everything," said David awkwardly, wishing he could think of something more sensible to say. "Should be enough to last you another two weeks." "I think we're going to be stuck in here a lot longer than that," said Ellen grimly. She sank into a canvas chair and regarded Vikki thoughtfully."