The Psychonaut_Book 1

by Tom G. H. Adams

  The gradient increased with every mile until, the track diminished into a narrow path, snaking up the ruddy chaos of escarpments ahead.

  “This is as far as we can drive,” said Albany, killing the engine. “From now on, we become mountain goats.”

  “Are we on the right track?” Merrick asked.

  Arun checked the map. “We are. The path leads to a pass five miles from here, but the way is steep.”

  Celestia, shirt damp from the heat, heaved a haversack onto her back. Months ago, she’d dispensed with the leather trousers in favour of loose slacks. Somehow she still managed to look provocative in them. At least Albany appeared to think so. Merrick observed the Outcast’s eyes inching up and down her body. Just a red-blooded male like the rest of us, he thought.

  “Will we make it to the woman’s dwelling by nightfall?” she asked.

  Arun looked up, eyes squinted, marking the sun’s position in the hazy sky. “I believe so, but we’ll not make the return journey before dusk—assuming we find her.”

  “Then we’ll be needing the tent, n’est-ce pas?”

  “We’ll take it in turns to carry it. Pack extra layers, the temperatures will fall as we ascend. Nights can be bitterly cold in the mountains.”

  They packed their clothes and provisions and were on the trail in a matter of minutes. Arun hadn’t jested when he said the path would be precipitous. After only half a mile they were panting like dogs and Merrick’s thighs ached with the exertion.

  “I hope this trip will be worth the effort,” Albany said. “What do you hope to achieve if we meet this crone?”

  “No one said she was a crone,” Merrick said, and took a mouthful of water from his canteen. “At least we can find out if the gate she guards is in fact one of the portals.”

  “It’s not going to free Lotus though is it?”

  The point was not lost on Merrick. “It’s the only information we have to act on. Maybe she has other knowledge she can share with us. Knowledge that might give us an edge on Shamon.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “We still don’t know exactly how he plans to use the gateways, or the nature of the worlds beyond.”

  Albany mopped his brow. “You realise that if we know about this gate then—“

  “Shamon might know about it too?”

  “It’s not common knowledge,” Arun interrupted. “Eziz told me about this in strictest confidence. He only knows of her because he is distantly related.”

  “So why would he tell you?” asked Albany.

  “He owed me a lot of money due to my punishing draught victories. He exchanged the information for a cancellation of his debt. Besides, we are old friends.”

  “Do you always fleece your friends then?”

  “Only the ones who deserve it. Better he owed me, than the cut-throats he normally associates with. I look on my actions as a public service.”

  Merrick laughed. “We need to push on if we’re to find the pass.”

  The trek was relentless. They crossed bubbling mountain streams, scrambled up scree slopes and traversed a knife-edged arete before happening upon a small defile in the sandy shards of an escarpment. A small waterfall leapt in cascades down one side, plunging into a pool at its foot.

  “The Yarik,” said Arun. “So called because it opens the way to the mountains like a woman’s vagina.”

  Celestia scowled. “You have such a way with words.”

  “Well, shall we enter?” Merrick said.

  “It would be rude not to,” Albany said.

  After filling their canteens in the pool they scaled the rocks leading up to the defile. They stopped at the lip and stared down into a shallow basin of baked earth. It extended at least a mile into the distance. Scrubby vegetation peeked through the clay like tufts of hair in a malformed beard.

  “The map is no longer of use,” Arun said. “Eziz told me to look for a fold of rock at the far end of the plateau. According to him, it’s easy to miss, but we can mark it’s position by that cleft on the horizon.” He pointed to a ridge at the limits of their vision. Merrick could just make out a notch in the otherwise smooth line of rocks.

  They descended into the basin and walked for the best part of an hour, their boots sending up dust in choking clouds. By the time they reached the far end, the disc of the sun had begun to slide down past the horizon, deepening the shadows of impending twilight.

  Arun wiped the sweat from his brow. “The entrance to the woman’s cave should be here somewhere. Let’s split up and work our way left and right. Give a shout if you find anything.”

  “What if Shamon’s here already?” Albany asked.

  “He would have seen us approaching. But it will pay to be vigilant. Celestia, can you detect anything?”

  “Non, but I would expect to sense background chatter from the creatures inhabiting this place. The whole area is as silent as the grave. This concerns me.”

  Arun shrugged. “All we can do is keep our guard up. Let’s find the cleft before we lose all the light.”

  It was only a moment later that Merrick stumbled upon the entrance. The cliff face folded back on itself like a curtain, the cleft being further concealed by a large, bushy snow vetch. If he hadn’t been looking intently then he would have missed it. The rest gathered round to look at his find.

  “Who wants to go first?” said Albany.

  “I better,” Arun said. “I can employ my eastern charms on this woman.”

  Albany looked gave him a quizzical look.

  “Well at least I speak the language,” he said.

  “Lead on MacDuff.”

  One by one they pushed past the bush and edged round the rock shoulder. A narrow canyon led them down towards a cave entrance. The setting sun lit up the cave mouth, but beyond it was pitch black. The smell of guano wafted up from the belly of the cave and the sound of dripping water added to the sense of dampness and cold.

  Arun took two flashlights from his pack and handed one to Merrick. “Watch your step,” he warned.

  They traced their beams across the ceiling, revealing a spacious area. Over in the corner they saw the remains of a recently extinguished fire. A simple cot and some cooking utensils hung on the wall.

  “Looks like someone’s been here recently,” Celestia said.

  Arun spoke up, sending a greeting to anyone who could hear. From Merrick’s rudimentary knowledge of Turkmen, he knew Arun spoke with reassurance, using what he assumed was the woman’s name: Jahan.

  There was no reply.

  Then, beyond the fireplace, Merrick detected a shifting form against the rock.

  “Look over there,” he said.

  The fissures in the cave wall seemed to slide over one another until the outline of a woman materialised, removing itself from the grey slate.

  “Iyi akşamlar,” spoke a voice crackled with age.

  Merrick watched Celestia instinctively reach for her weapon only to have Arun place a steadying hand on her arm.

  Arun repeated his greeting, introduced himself and bowed with a stylish grace.

  “Most of you are westerners,” she said in English. “I knew others would come. Yet you are not like my previous visitors.”

  Merrick blinked. He dismissed her previous camouflage against the cave wall as a trick of the light. She stood before them now in a chequered kaftan, her silver hair running in waves as elegant as her words.

  “My English is not perfect,” she continued, “but it is better than my French.”

  “You are a linguist?” said Arun.

  “It is one of my talents,” she replied.

  “As well as an illusionist?” said Celestia.

  “I call it blending. I used it to good effect when strangers appeared in my valley a week ago.”

  “Forgive us,” said Arun, “but what did these visitors look like?”

  “There were four. I liked not the look of them, so I hid. Their leader w
as Turkmen—a shifty looking man. Trinkets concealed his face.”

  “Shamon,” Albany said.

  “They did not speak their names, but I watched them out in the veil. They looked for that which is hidden here—as, I’m sure, do you.”

  “The others,” said Merrick. “You said there were others?”

  “Yes. Two women. One ugly, one beautiful. The ugly one had a scarred and twisted face, the other’s shone with a regal light. Indian or maybe Pakistani. I am not sure.”

  “It’s Lotus. It has to be.”

  Merrick felt a leap in his chest. “Did she look—well, healthy. I mean ...”

  “You know this woman?”

  “Yes. We’ve been looking for her. The man abducted her. His name is Jagur Shamon. Tell me, did it look like he’d harmed her in any way?”

  “Not at all,” said Jahan, her grey eyes leveling on Merrick. “In fact, she laughed often. The way she held the hand of this Shamon—I understood them to be lovers.”

  ~~~

  Chapter 22

  Strange highways

  Trauma, shock, disorientation. Whether physical or psychological, they have many sources and many expressions. Merrick had been in LA on a contract during the Landers shock of ‘92. Only 7.3 at its highest on the Richter scale, it was a gnat’s fart according to Manny, his business partner at the time. Yet Merrick remembered the floor shifting erratically, without relief. Overarching the whole incident was the impression of lost reference points. A breaking of trust in mother earth— after all, the prospect of peaceful Gaia turning into a raging, hadean monster was enough to shake anyone’s foundations. The LA aftershocks phased him. Jahan’s words completely knocked him to the ground.

  “It’s bullshit,” he said, looking at Celestia for support.

  “Bien sûr,” she replied. “Lotus is under coercion from a master of deceit. Feigned affection is her survival mechanism mon cher. That is all. Take heart that she’s alive.” Celestia’s consciousness emanated compassion and Merrick absorbed it like a tonic.

  “Yeah—has to be,” he said.

  “Which is why it’s all the more important we squash this scorpion as soon as we can,” Arun said.

  Jahan moved into the light. “I know why you are here. There is only one reason seekers happen upon this shrine. All leave disappointed. The gateway has not opened itself to novice or master for at least six hundred years.

  Merrick quelled his apprehensions about Lotus and spoke up. “You must be aware that there are other gateways?”

  “Yes. Also unbreached. They are the window to worlds unseen, and do not yield their secrets easily.”

  “I’ve seen beyond one of the gateways,” Merrick said.

  His assertiveness surprised Jahan. She looked at him with earth-brown eyes. “Let me see you up close,” she said, stepping forward. She reached out her hand and ran it over his forehead, nose and mouth. Her psychic energy infiltrated him like a dry tree seeking water. Merrick allowed her explorations, detecting no deceit in her.

  “I recognise truth within your mind, child of the west. I also sense great power and conflict; pain also. You are not a mage, so I know you have not completed the great work. That can only mean you are Anahtar usta.”

  Merrick smiled. “I seem to be getting called a lot of things these days. I don’t even know what that means.”

  “Key master,” Arun said.

  Jahun motioned to Merrick. “Come and sit down, this cave chills my bones and I need to relight the fire. Once we are comfortable you can tell me what you have seen beyond your gateway.”

  Once the fire was rekindled they sat in a circle on mats of sedge. They took the opportunity to snack on bread and cheese as Jahan prepared them a hot drink, infused with herbs to help ward off the cold fingers of the night. As she gave a cup to Albany she chuckled and gave his cheek a playful pinch.

  “My, you are a virile young paragon,” she said. “I could do with the likes of you to warm my bed on a winter’s night.”

  Albany blushed. “I … I’m charmed ... I think—“

  “Don’t be bashful. I may have a wrinkle or two but I am well versed in the art of love. Who knows? Maybe we won’t have to wait until winter.”

  She moved on to fill Arun’s cup leaving Albany with a bemused expression.

  “Was that a come on or what?” he said to Merrick.

  “Looks like you’re well in there,” he replied with a smirk on his face.

  Celestia leaned towards them and whispered “She is an adept at sex magick. She could give you the night of your life.”

  Merrick’s smile dissolved as thoughts of Lotus’ crept into his mind again. “Jahan,” he said, urgency giving wings to his voice, “thank you for your hospitality. You’re right in guessing our motives, and you did well to conceal yourself from Jagur Shamon. He’s a sworn enemy. I don’t know what lies beyond your gateway, but I can tell you what I saw in my brief glimpse through the one in England.”

  “All my life I have waited to hear from someone who has passed beyond,” she said. “My late husband and I tried countless times to enter the gateway here. A thousand times our efforts ended in disappointment. I have long since accepted that this is a journey denied to me.”

  “You may see your wish fulfilled yet,” he said. “The full extent of my abilities are still an unknown quantity, but an acquaintance of mine was confident I could hold these doors open for others to pass through.”

  Jahan settled her fragile form onto a mat. “Speak to me of these wonders,” she said.

  Merrick recounted his experience at Paraganet house. The civilisation he had seen, and the barbarity. As he spoke, his fellow Outcasts listened too, their expressions moulding into a unity of realisation.

  He concluded his tale with the reappearance of the Simiatan, and the havoc it unleashed on the Ukurum in London. When he had finished there was silence from the companions. The only sound was the crackle of the fire as resin in the wood expanded and vaporised.

  After a minute or so, Jahan broke the silence. “You know the danger of what lies on the other side. Now tell me why you want to see beyond this gateway. My only reasons are those of curiosity. To know why I, along with my mother and her mother before, were given the life-long duty of guarding what lies here. You have viewed the savagery of these unknown worlds, yet there might be greater terrors. Do you want to take that risk again?”

  Merrick thought for a moment. The woman was an expert at concealment but she could not hide her mind entirely, and he had learned to cover his penetrations with skill during the last few months. This is a test. Time to tread with care. Increased concentration of cortisol not quite hidden by a saturation of oestrogen. Despite her age she is approaching oestrus.

  “Jagur Shamon holds great store in these gateways. He plans to use this knowledge to spread his influence. There are others also. Others only a little less malign than he who would profit from them. I have to know what they’re placing their confidence in. Perhaps we can use this against them or, failing that, find a way to prevent them from ever passing through.”

  Jahan put down her drink. “Your motives seem more noble than this Shamon, but there have been many who approached me in the past with apparent benign intent. Curiosity can so easily lead to avarice. A taste of knowledge—which is power—can warp the most innocent of intentions.”

  Conflicting hormonal interactions. She hasn’t decided yet.

  “If I might speak,” Arun said. “I open my mind to you, holy mother, so you can see that I speak true words.”

  “Then speak, venerable one.”

  “I used to be a follower of Jagur Shamon and have spent the last ten years trying to remove the stain of his corruption from my life. I know first hand the lengths this man will go to. There have been many from ages past who sought to rule the kingdoms of the earth—Nebuchadnezzar, Alexander, Genghis Khan, Hitler. Shamon’s ambitions dwarf these. He intends to build an empire across world
s. His rule would bring annihilation and chaos on a colossal scale.” Arun spat on the ground as if the mention of Shamon filled his mouth with distaste. “To thwart him, we need to know what he values on the other side.”

  Jahan had been listening with her eyes closed. She opened them, decisiveness etched on her face. “Arun, You speak the truth. I think the time for words has passed.” Rising to her feet, she picked up a large candle and said “Let me show you the gate.”

  Jahan approached the far wall and then disappeared from sight.

  Merrick looked at the others in surprise.

  “I think we’re meant to follow,” Celestia said.

  She stepped over to where Jahan had withdrawn from view and extended her hand towards the fissured wall. Her arm vanished and then reappeared as she pulled it back.

  “A simple illusion. If Rovach were here he’d have seen through it.”

  One by one they filed through the concealed cleft and joined Jahan in a narrow passage.

  “We must descend for a while,” she said. “Watch your step. The rocks are slippery.”

  She wasn’t exaggerating. As they followed her spindly form down, Merrick felt his feet slide on the treacherous, uneven surface. The walls left a slimy residue on his hand as he steadied himself. After a few minutes they heard the plaintive sound of a spring bubbling up from below, and a couple of twists and turns later they emerged in a small cavern. Natural phosphorescence glowed from stalagmites rising from the floor, finger-like until they reached their sister stalactites in the cavern roof. A depression, scooped out of the dark granite at the centre contained churning black water.

  “Where does the gateway lie?” Celestia asked.

  Jahan pointed her torch at the spring. “Beneath the waters.”