Extreme Difference

by D. B. Reynolds-Moreton

  ‘What the hell’s that?’ Ben eventually said.

  ‘Looks like an ancient lava flow, and the ground beneath it has been cut away,’ Sandy offered as an explanation of the impossible, ‘but I don’t see how so much rock can sustain itself without breaking off under its own weight.’

  ‘It doesn’t look safe to me.’ Greg muttered, knowing full well they would have to get considerably closer, if only to satisfy Sandy’s curiosity of such things.

  As they drew nearer to the massive overhang, the true size of the rock shelf became apparent. One hundred metres above their heads, the underside of the old lava flow leaned out for a distance of some six hundred metres, casting an area of gloom beneath it.

  ‘It looks as if the lava flowed out over a bed of sandstone, and the softer stone has been eroded away over the years.’ Sandy stated, his memory of geology returning as he looked at the bizarre freak of nature. ‘It’s been like this for God knows how long, so it should be safe enough for us to go underneath it.’ So saying, he strode forward, the others following reluctantly on behind and frequently glancing upwards, fearing the worst.

  Having reached the centre of the overhang, they turned and looked out over the plain, the shadow they stood in making the rest of the world look much brighter.

  Ben, who was in front of the others and still feeling nervous about the overhang, turned to face them, when his eyes locked straight ahead and his jaw dropped.

  Slowly he raised his arm, pointing at the back of the ledge where it met the cliff and nodding his head up and down.

  The others turned as one, and they too froze at what they saw. At the base of the cliff in the deepest shadows, a vast oval silver object lay on the ground, the back edge slightly raised as though it had skidded to a stop, the front end having dug itself into the soft ground and then met the hard rock of the cliff.

  ‘What the hell is that,’ gasped Greg, when he was able to draw breath, ‘don’t tell me that grew here!’

  ‘It certainly didn’t,’ Sandy said quietly, ‘that’s been manufactured, and I think I know what it might be.’

  ‘What?’ the others chorused in unison.

  ‘Can’t be sure yet, so let’s get a little closer.’ Sandy replied, taking a few tentative steps towards the huge shape.

  Their natural fear of the unknown made the others hold back, while Ben warned Sandy to be careful.

  ‘I think it’s been here a long time, look at the way the wind has blown the sand up around it in ripples, that doesn’t happen overnight. Come on, it’s quite safe as long as we don’t fiddle with anything.’ He now strode out confidently towards the silver object, waving his arm to bring the others forward.

  As they drew nearer, the full size of the vehicle became apparent, towering over them by some fifteen metres.

  ‘What’s it doing here? Do you think someone put it here to keep it out of sight?’ asked Ben.

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Sandy replied, turning and looking back towards the open plain. ‘There’s a shallow furrow going out some way onto the plain which I didn’t notice before. It’s got partly filled with wind blown sand, so it only shows up from this angle, and then only faintly.’

  Ben, having lost some of his fear, reached up and hit the side of the vehicle with his clenched fist. He had expected a hollow booming sound, but there was no more response than if he had hit a piece of solid rock.

  ‘Not quite what you expected.’ commented Sandy, who had stooped down to look underneath the curved body of the craft. ‘See these marks under here, I’ll bet they’re access panels and if we could get them open, we could get inside.’

  ‘You’re joking!’ Greg exploded, ‘you’re not seriously thinking of going into that thing. God knows what would happen.’

  What do you think would happen?’ asked Sandy calmly. ‘It’s been sitting here for years, so there’ll be no sign of life in it. It’s just a mechanical thing someone has made, and if we don’t push any buttons or tweak any switches, it should just sit there.’ The others were not convinced.

  They walked around the huge shape, looking for an entry point, but found nothing which was an obvious doorway into the interior of the craft.

  ‘I’ve found something!’ the distant voice of Ben echoed around the huge cave-like overhang of rock, ‘it’s different to the other markings we’ve found.’ The others hurried around to where Ben was looking intently at a slight recess in the outer skin of the vehicle.

  ‘It’s a sort of inviting shape,’ he said, ‘something I feel I should put my hand on.’

  ‘Well, go on then,’ Sandy said, ‘I don’t see what harm it’ll do.’ Ben placed his hand in the shallow recess. A faint only just discernible hum sounded, and a pulse of light flashed beneath Ben’s hand. Greg, who had been standing behind Ben, now went flying as Ben accelerated backwards, a look of horror on his face.

  ‘Hey, take it easy,’ Sandy yelled, as he too was thrust to one side, ‘we’re going to injure each other more than that craft is likely to.’

  Having got over their shock, they regrouped around the mystery panel. This time Sandy placed his hand in the recess. Again, the quiet hum, the panel flashed, but nothing else happened.

  ‘What do you think it’s supposed to do?’ asked Ben contritely, ‘it must have a purpose.’

  ‘Of course it has,’ replied Sandy sharply, ‘it’s just that we haven’t figured it out yet.’ He placed his hand in the recess again, with the same result, then stood back, deep in thought.

  ‘I think this is a means of identifying those allowed to enter the craft, and it won’t open for others, like us. So what’s the difference between hands?’

  ‘There’re all different,’ said Ben, ‘some are large, some small, others have knobbly joints. Surely that thing can’t tell differences like that.’

  ‘It would seem to.’ replied Sandy, pensively.

  Each tried their hands in turn, but the door, if indeed there was one, remained stubbornly shut.

  Frustration was beginning to get the better of them, and they were about to give up on the idea of trying to fool the door sensor, when Greg said he would like to give it a kick.

  ‘And just how are you going to reach it?’ asked Ben.

  ‘Hey, wait a minute you two, that’s the only thing we haven’t tried.’ said Sandy, hopefully.

  ‘You’ve got to be bloody joking.’ Ben said, wondering if his mentor had finally cracked under the strain.

  ‘No, I don’t mean kick it, I mean stick a foot on it.’

  ‘Oh, come on. People don’t go around opening doors by plonking their feet on them.’ Ben retorted tartly.

  Sandy untied the holding cords and kicked his home-made shoes off.

  ‘Come on, someone help me up.’ They all stood around in disbelief while Sandy tried in vain to fling his leg high enough to reach the recess.

  ‘What are you lot waiting for?’ he asked angrily. ‘I need a hand up.’

  ‘You need something, and it’s not a hand.’ mumbled Ben, and then wished he had kept his counsel.

  Reluctant hands lifted Sandy up until he could place his foot firmly into the recess. The gentle hum was followed by the light flash, a faint ‘ting’ from somewhere within the craft, and a door hissed open beside the sensor panel, emitting a gush of stale and fetid air. Angrily Sandy heaved himself back to his feet and dusted himself down, after being dropped by his helpers when the door unexpectedly opened.

  ‘What’s the matter with you lot?’ he growled. ‘You’re as jumpy as a bunch of bloody girls.’

  ‘How the hell did that work?’ asked Greg, the first to recover his composure.

  ‘That thing recognizes hand shapes, and a foot has the same number of digits, only a different shape. From that we can deduce that those allowed to enter have long hands and stubby fingers, while we don’t, and aren’t allowed in.’

  Apologies were offered, but were shrugged off by a still seething Sandy, and it was only when he suggested they try to climb into the n
ow inviting hole in the side of the craft that things returned to near normal.

  ‘OK, I'll go in first then.’ he said, noticing the others had taken a step backwards immediately after the suggestion.

  Sandy heaved himself up into the opening, and vanished, only to return a few seconds later, with a grin on his face.

  ‘Come along girls, who’s next?’ Sandy was enjoying himself having made his point and gained entry to the alien transport vessel.

  One by one, they climbed on board, wrinkling their noses at the tainted air, but driven forward by their curiosity.

  They found themselves in a long passage, and although there was no direct light source as such, the walls themselves seemed to gently glow, giving adequate light to safely move about.

  ‘Why are you lot whispering?’ Sandy’s voice boomed out in the confined space, ‘there’s no one alive on this thing!’

  They tramped on, the passage ending in what they thought at first was a blank wall, but it was just that the door had been carefully designed to blend in with its surroundings.

  ‘Right, shoes off,’ someone called from the back, but Sandy had already found the release stud, and the door swung open.

  Again, that whoosh of stale air, and they all held their breath for a moment, allowing fresh air from outside to swirl in.

  ‘Looks like this could be the control room,’ Sandy announced confidently, ‘and those are the controller’s chairs,’ he said, pointing to three high backed seats in front of a huge viewing screen.

  Sandy was the first to approach the seats, and he stopped dead in his tracks. The others, sensing something was amiss, hurried to his side and stopped also. Three mummified figures occupied the three seats, safety harnesses still holding the withered bodies in place, but all three had their heads bent forward at an unnatural angle.

  ‘Good God, look at those hands,’ exclaimed Ben, pointing at the first figure, whose arms lay stretched out before him. ‘Sandy was right after all!’

  The alien’s hand was twice the length of theirs, and the fingers were considerably shorter, but apart from that it bore no resemblance to a foot.

  ‘What do you think happened to them?’ Ben said quietly. ‘Can’t be old age, as all three snuffed it at the same time.’

  ‘What I think happened,’ Sandy began, speaking slowly so that he could have time to think, ‘is that this ship lost its way in the cloud or developed a fault, and tried to land here. Something went wrong, and the craft hit the sands outside and the whole thing skidded in under the lava overhang.

  ‘It looks as if these three had their necks broken by the impact when the front edge of the craft hit the solid rock of the cliff.

  ‘Even if a search craft was sent out, it would have difficulty in locating this one, tucked up under the overhang as it is. Only a ground search would find it, and they obviously didn’t do one of those.’ He felt pleased with his analysis of the situation, and he was getting better at it.

  ‘Do you think it has anything to do with the Great Lights?’ asked Greg, wondering if yet another mystery would now be cleared up.

  ‘Could well be.’ Sandy answered, looking around the control room, searching for anything which would help him determine what the vessel had been used for. ‘Let’s take a look at the rest of it.’ he added.

  On the opposite side to which they had entered, another doorway beckoned and Sandy soon had it open. A short passage led to a flight of steps, and they cautiously went down them to another small room, which looked out onto a large area below. Row upon row of coffin like boxes lay in neat lines, transparent covers allowing the visitors full view of the gruesome contents.

  ‘Poor sods,’ muttered Sandy, ‘on their way to a new home, and never made it.’

  ‘You mean, we came like this?’ asked Ben, catching on quicker than Sandy thought he would.

  ‘Almost certainly, I know I did, although I don’t remember this part of the journey.’

  ‘What do you remember?’ Ben asked gently, aware he might be treading on dangerous ground.

  ‘I remember a ‘nothingness’, which is quite different to being asleep, and then falling and hitting the sand with a thump. Nan was there to help me up, and took me in to meet you lot. Bits of memory from my former life come back to me sometimes, especially when I’m trying to work something out. I know I've lived somewhere else, but I don’t know where at the moment.’

  ‘Look down there,’ Greg was peering out of the window of the despatch room, ‘there’s a clear space in the middle with a piece of machinery to one side of it. Do you think that’s what they used to throw us out?’

  ‘I don’t think they throw us out exactly, we’d break our bloody necks falling that distance. It’s probably some device which lowers us down, and then tips us out when we’re nearer the ground. That’s what it felt like to me.’

  Ben found the door leading down to the storage room floor, but they were in two minds about going down to view the unfortunates who lay there.

  ‘We may as well,’ said Ben a last, ‘they can’t hurt us.’

  As they walked up and down the rows of transport boxes, they noticed there were many different types of people entombed in their containers, some of which looked barely human. All their bodies had dehydrated to a mummified state, disguising their true likeness.

  ‘Look, here’s three like that bunch who tried to annihilate us,’ Greg called out, ‘just as well they didn’t join the others, or we may not have been able to get ’em all in the tunnel at the same time.’

  They returned to the main control room, glad to be out of the morbid atmosphere of the holding store, and looked around for anything else which would add to their fast growing reservoir of knowledge. It was Ben who found the clinching detail which proved Sandy’s theory of what had happened to them all.

  He had idly lent against the control console, and in doing so touched the activating button. A screen lit up showing a perfect outline of the crater, and around its edge were the various positions of the groups which inhabited it.

  It was Greg who located their old home site in the crater, remembering the rocky promontory which jutted out into the sands, the only one he knew of in their area.

  ‘This certainly gives you a good idea of how big the crater is,’ said Sandy, ‘and it’s a damn sight bigger than I ever thought.’

  They all stared at the illuminated crater map, and then Ben notice a series of small markings, one against each cave site.

  ‘I’ll bet if we compared those marks with the ones on the boxes down below, we’d know who was going where, if you see what I mean. There might have been some for us.’

  ‘There probably were, but it’s academic now, they all died long ago.’ Sandy had lost interest in what had passed, and plans for the future were already beginning to form.

  ‘I wonder if we could get this craft airborne again?’ he mused out loud.

  A look of horror crossed the other five faces, finding the ship was enough, flying it was certainly not on the menu.

  Sandy was a little surprised when he saw their faces, and decided to back track a bit quickly.

  ‘Just kidding men. I doubt this thing would ever fly again anyway, something must have failed to bring it down in the first place, and we certainly don’t have the know-how to repair it.’

  They went to the exit door of the craft, and found the light outside had dropped to a point where they could hardly make out details of the distant desert, the ground below them being in complete darkness.

  ‘How do you feel about making camp in here for the night?’ asked Sandy, ‘it’ll be a lot safer than going outside.’

  They all agreed, and soon a meal was laid out from the various containers each had brought.

  ‘Sure could do with one of Mop’s stews right now,’ Ben said, spitting out crumbs from one of Mop’s somewhat hardened grain buns, ‘damn good cook, that woman.’ Sandy grinned, he knew Ben was trying to make a point about something, but was unsure exactly what it was.r />
  None of them felt tired after their meal, so they continued to explore the alien craft, finding doors which led them ever deeper into the workings of the vessel, but finding little they could understand, except Sandy, and he was saying nothing for the time being.

  The three mummified figures were unceremoniously removed from their seats, allowing three of the team a reasonably comfortable sleeping place. Fortunately two of the team were a little squeamish about occupying the dead men’s last resting places, so they were quite happy to sleep on the floor of the control room. By next morning, they had changed their views, but a quick meal and the promise of going home cheered them up considerably.

  The group left the alien ship under the lava ledge and headed out into the bright light of day. Sandy and Ben were a little reluctant to leave it behind before they could learn more about it, and Sandy fully intended to return as soon as possible.

  They discussed what they had found as they walked along, Sandy being the only one to whom the implications of their discovery rang true to any great extent. Ben and Greg could see the logic of it all, but still found it difficult to accept.

  Conversation dwindled somewhat as they struggled across the soft sand area, a wind adding to their difficulties as it whipped up the finer grains in a series of flurries, getting in their eyes and making breathing arduous. Ben suggested they make masks from some of the fine cloth they had acquired, if they ever came this way again.

  Feeling greatly relieved when the sand gave way to the more compacted ground of the plain, they took a break. Greg removed his footwear to get rid of the sand, and found it had cut into his skin creating sores on his feet, and suggested that the others do likewise.

  ‘I wouldn’t have expected sand to have done this,’ Greg announced, carefully wiping the last few grains from the angry red patches, ‘the crater sand never cut into our feet.’

  Sandy then had a close look at the raw places on his feet.

  ‘You’re right, it shouldn’t have done this, must be something different about it.’ He took a few grains from his crudely formed foot coverings, and examined them closely.