The Last Portal

by Robert Cole

As the first rays of sun filtered through the tree canopy, Batarr’s forces assembled on the surface. They had emerged, single file, from a narrow, moss-lined tunnel had been chiselled between two sandstone rock outcrops.

  Compared to the underground complex, the surface was a cold and windy place. A light dusting of frost clung to the ground and the wind whistled and tore at the gathering company. To ward off the cold, the Mytar had been fitted with garments that had been soaked in oil derived from the boiled skins of warm-blooded fish. This oil was renowned for its unique properties. In the cold weather it solidified, sealing in the body’s warmth, while in hot weather it softened, allowing the skin to breathe.

  Chris flexed his arms, twisted and crouched down into a squat. His clothes seemed to flex and mould themselves to fit the changing shape of his body. He pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and sniffed at the strange oily smell of the fabric.

  “They’re made from the finest material in the land.” A deep, resonating voice jerked Chris out of his preoccupation with his clothes.

  Chris looked up at a man over twice his size with dark, intense eyes buried above high cheek-bones and a long tapering jaw.

  “I’m Altac, Leader of the Guard,” the man said.

  When he smiled Chris noticed a pink scar running from the side of his mouth to the corner of his jaw.

  “I’m Chris,” he replied, feeling rather small and insignificant.

  Altac brushed back some of the long curls of black hair that trailed down to his shoulder and bowed in what Chris assumed was this world’s version of a handshake.

  “I believe you need no introduction,” he replied. “After all, aren’t you the reason we are embarking on this little errand?”

  Chris smiled uncertainly, trying with his new found talents to catch something of Altac’s thoughts. He read admiration, mixed in with surprise at how young and small the Mytar were. Like so many of Batarr’s soldiers, Altac thought that the Mytar had volunteered to come and save Cathora from Zelnoff. Chris swallowed back some of his guilt, thankful that Altac hadn’t witnessed their behaviour when they first arrived.

  Altac’s smile slid away. “I suggest yourself and your fellow Mytar travel in the centre of the company, where you will be best protected at all times,” he said, in a more solemn tone.

  Chris nodded. Mingled with Altac’s admiration, he picked up the concern for their vulnerability.

  By this time Susie and Joe had appeared. Chris noticed that both their eyes widened at the sight of this man. He wore what appeared to be a chest plate made of thick hide and metal, and a long dagger was strapped to his hip. Slung over his shoulder was the same weapon Chris had seen Zelnoff’s soldiers wearing in his vision. It looked a bit like a rifle, Chris thought, except it was shorter and bulkier. Altac greeted Susie and Joe with the same politeness he had shown Chris, bowing respectfully at each of them.

  Joe circled Altac, paying particular attention to the weapon that hung by his side.

  Altac, after seeing Joe’s interest, unslung his weapon and held it out for Joe to examine.

  “What does this crystal do?” Joe asked, pointing to a blue-coloured crystal that was embedded in the butt of the weapon.

  “It is the power source of the weapon,” Altac responded. “These crystals store vast amounts of energy which can be focused into a narrow beam by a series of lenses.” Altac pointed to a series of concave lenses along the barrel of the weapon that lead from the apex of the crystal.

  “Cool,” Joe gasped, his eyes wide with excitement.

  Altac pointed a weapon at a nearby rock. When he pressed the trigger, a blue light shot out and the rock exploded.

  “Can I try?” Joe asked.

  This drew some subdued chuckles and smiles from some of the surrounding soldiers.

  “These weapons are extremely powerful,” Altac said, smiling patiently. “A soldier has to undergo an intensive course of instruction before he is allowed to use one.”

  “So I guess that’s a no.”

  “You will all be well protected,” Altac said, smiling mildly at the disappointment on Joe’s face. “There’ll be no need to carry such weapons.”

  Joe nodded slowly, but Chris didn’t need to read Joe’s thoughts to sense his disappointment.

  Altac said his good-byes and strode off to direct his command. The last of the company had now reached the surface. Chris lost count at around a hundred soldiers but figured there could be around twice that number with additional porters and servants carrying food and supplies. There appeared to be equal numbers of male and female soldiers, representing three distinct kinds of species. Many, like Altac, looked almost human, but the other two types were more alien. Many of the servants were no taller than Chris or Joe. Their large jagged ears and hazel eyes appeared to be in constant motion as they ran around organising food and supplies.

  The third, and most frightening type, stood a short distance from the rest of the company, completely motionless, as though someone had temporarily switched them off. Some stood well over two metres high and they had broad flattened faces, protruding eyes ridges and no hair on their bodies at all, which only emphasised their huge muscles. Chris found it very hard to distinguish male from female, since both were the same size and shape. But the most unnerving thing about them was their eyes - large, pale yellow with a blue centre. And there was something else. It took a moment for Chris to work it out. Their eyes were further apart than humans, suggesting they could see more to the side. They would be hard to sneak up on, he concluded. He tried to pick up their thoughts, but received nothing. Their minds seemed to be operating in a manner he couldn’t interpret.

  “You alright?” Susie was peering closely at him.

  “Yeah, just watching those big guys,” Chris replied, still trying to concentrate.

  “They’re weird alright,” she agreed, trying to tuck the tangled mass of her hair under the hood of her jacket. “I’ve been talking to Sasli about them. They’re called Taal and they were the first of the human-like species to develop written and spoken language. Apparently there are seven humanoid species on this planet. Isn’t that amazing?” Susie beamed back at Chris. “Imagine if the same thing had happened on Earth. Homo habilis, Neanderthals, Homo erectus, Homo floresiensis and all the other species that we only know as fossils, all still around. Wouldn’t it be exciting?”

  Susie was something of an archaeology buff. The thought of so many different species was obviously exciting for her. For the first time in over a week, she was smiling and there was a definite buzz to her voice. Despite everything, Chris also felt good. He was above ground and about to embark on the adventure of his life on a totally unexplored planet. Every schoolboy’s dream, he thought mildly. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool isn’t it?” he smiled back.

  A short distance away, they found Joe sitting on a rock with his head in his hands.

  “What’s up?” Chris asked, as they approached.

  Joe only grunted, not bothering to look up.

  Susie crouched down to Joe’s level. “You okay?”

  “I just don’t feel right,” Joe said after a long sigh.

  Chris looked at him more closely. “Are you sick?”

  “No, no… I don’t feel… I don’t think I fit in,” he replied, searching hard to find the words to explain. “Look… you can read people’s thoughts.” He waved his hand in Susie’s direction. “Susie can understand strange languages. What can I do? Where do I fit into all this?”

  “The key changed colour in your hands so you must be one of us,” Chris replied.

  “Maybe the key was wrong? Maybe I’m a huge mistake?”

  “Remember what Batarr said. You survived the trip here, so you must be one of us,” Susie added.

  “Then why haven’t I got any powers? Why can’t I make it rain, or move things with my mind?”

  “Maybe your powers take longer to develop,” Chris suggested.

  “And if they don’t?”

&nbs
p; “Then we’ll protect you,” Chris said with a smirk.

  Joe’s head jerked up. “I don’t need your protection!” he spat.

  Shaking his head, he stood up and stalked off.

  Soon afterwards, the company began their descent to the lake. As Altac had suggested, the three Mytar walked in the centre, flanked on either side by soldiers. Scouts had been sent ahead to organise transport across the lake with the fishermen from one of the local towns. The route down was steep, but the ground was even and they made good progress. With Joe largely keeping to himself, Chris and Susie spent their time trying to catch sight of the local wildlife. There were flying creatures that looked a lot like the birds of Earth, while others were covered in fur, or had transparent wings, and hovered rather than flew across their path. One such creature landed on a nearby log. It had a set of seriously sharp teeth, a bony horn on its forehead, and when it flew off it sounded like a nest of bees. There were also slow-moving creatures, shaped rather like flat spiky bath mats, that clung to many of the larger trees. During one of their rest periods, Altac peeled one of these creatures from a tree and turned it over. Underneath was a series of suction pads and a circular set of teeth for grinding holes in trees to suck sap. Other creatures, similar to squirrels on Earth and too fast to catch more than a glimpse of, ran up and down trees at will. Even the ground was alive with life. Small furry creatures would pop out of nowhere, run a short distance, then vanish again in a flurry of flying dirt and rocks. Then there were the sounds of the forest, strange whistles, raucous calls, squeals which started low and quickly climbed in pitch. All these sounds spoke of myriads creatures lurking just out of sight.

  By late afternoon, the land flattened out and the tree canopy was replaced by grasslands. They reached the lake at dusk, and the company started setting up camp for the night. A gentle breeze was blowing and the sun, larger and redder than Earth’s, was setting over the mountains in a blaze of purples and reds. Chris stood on the shore of the lake, looking at the sunset. He couldn’t remember seeing a more spectacular sight.

  “Wow, this is cool.” Susie slapped Chris on the back playfully. “Race you along to the beach.” She brushed past him, almost knocking him over. Despite being nearly a head taller than Chris, Susie was a terrible runner, all flailing arms and legs. It didn’t take him long to overhaul her. He raced past her and sprinted into the shallows. Susie arrived moments later, but was careful not to follow him into the water.

  “Now you’ve got your shoes wet,” she taunted. “Can’t change into another pair around here. Poor little boy will have wet shoes tonight.”

  “Well, you’re going to have wet clothes.” He chased after her with every intention of crash-tackling her, when he noticed several groups of soldiers watching them. He read curiosity, and an aura of respect and admiration in their thoughts. He slowed, and then ground to a halt. A week ago he would have thrown Susie into the water, regardless of what people thought, but somehow he doubted the sight of two Mytar, rolling in the mud of a lake trying to drown each other, would be very impressive.

  A short distance away, Batarr was standing next to the three large fishing boats that were waiting to take the company across the lake. Sasli fluttered down next to him and immediately engaged him in an animated singing conversation. Of all the strange things Chris had seen since his arrival, this one still sent a smile across his face, a man and a bird-creature singing to each other. Sadly, no one would ever believe him back on Earth.

  “Can you understand what they are saying?” he whispered to Susie, as they crept closer.

  She motioned for quiet. “Sasli is giving Batarr news from the town,” she said. “Um… sounds serious,” she frowned, “a few days ago there was fighting across the lake where we’ll be going. There was also a lot of smoke and fires.”

  There was a pause while Batarr considered this information.

  Sasli burst into song again.

  “Also something about a storm approaching,” she whispered.

  Batarr called Altac over, and after a few words, Altac issued the orders to break camp immediately and board the boats. This was not a popular decision with Chris or Susie, who were just starting to enjoy themselves. Joe, who was nursing his sore feet by dipping them in the lake, was even less impressed, and said so, muttering several obscenities under his breath.

  It was nearly dark by the time the company set sail. The trip across the lake would take the night and most of the next day. Batarr had placed them on the largest of the fishing boats; a wooden-hulled vessel that had both a sail and an engine. The engine, like the soldiers’ weapons and most machinery on Cathora, was powered by the same blue crystals and was completely silent. A fact completely lost on Chris until he noticed the boat was gliding through the water without any sails.

  As the boat cut though the water, Chris, Susie and Joe sat on the deck staring up at the stars. This was the first time they had seen the sky at night and the sight left them awe-struck. Not one, but two moons circled this planet. The smaller one was silver in colour, and across its surface ran hundreds of what looked like tiny orange-coloured cracks, which gave the impression it was made of glass and could shatter at any moment into a thousand pieces.

  “The smaller moon is called Sarous,” Altac said. He had been watching them as they gazed into the sky. “In our ancient stories it is said that a huge storm once engulfed the whole planet.” He walked over and sat down next to them. “The storm was so large and powerful the whole land was thrown into darkness. Huge hailstones destroyed villages and towns, and massive lightning bolts started forest fires. One of these lightning bolts was so powerful that it struck the moon and shattered it.”

  “Yeah, right…” Joe said.

  “It’s folklore,” Susie scolded. “It’s not supposed to be true.”

  “In our ancient language Sarous means ‘shining path’,” Altac continued. “When it is full, like tonight, you can walk by its light without needing lanterns.”

  “Awesome,” Chris whispered under his breath.

  “The larger moon is called Heoans,” Altac continued.

  Heoans was much larger than the Earth’s moon, and plastered with impact craters. Beyond this moon was the reason for its appearance - millions of rocks circled this planet in a tight glittering ring that spiralled across the sky before fading into the mountains beyond.

  “It’s lovely,” Susie said softly, not taking her eyes off the sky.

  “Any of those rocks flying around up there ever crash into this planet?” Joe asked, somewhat spoiling the mood.

  “We have had occasional impacts,” Altac replied, “but they’re rare. Although there have been more meteor showers than usual.”

  “Many more?” Chris asked.

  “Yes, in recent years. There has been strange weather too. High winds and more violent storms.”

  “Like the storm that’s approaching?” Chris asked, at the same time realising he had never been on the water in a storm.

  There was a brief pause before Altac answered this question, and Chris read apprehension in his thoughts.

  “We should be across the lake by the time the storm hits,” Altac replied thoughtfully.

  Chris looked towards the mountains in the distance. Already, some of the peaks had been engulfed by a large black mass. “So… is this a particularly bad storm?” he asked, realising he actually hated boats and was nearly always seasick.

  “I don’t know what you call bad,” Altac said, “but small craft will have some difficulties if caught in the open.”

  “But we’re not small, right?” Joe asked.

  Altac rose to his feet, his large frame blocking out most of the lantern light. “I can assure you, we’re in good hands. Batarr doesn’t make these decisions lightly,” he said, his voice strong and resolute. “Now if you would excuse me, I must go and secure the boat.”

  With these words he began to move off, but after a few steps he turned back. “Remember, Mytar, from now on you all mus
t be very careful. The way ahead will not be easy.”

  Chris tried to probe Altac’s thoughts as he left but only received impressions of all the supplies he was thinking of strapping firmly to the deck of the boat.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Joe said, pulling a face. “And what does he mean, “we’re in good hands?” Whose hands? Not Batarr’s, I hope.”

  “Keep your voice down,” Susie hissed.

  “Why should I?”

  “Because you will be overheard and these soldiers are very loyal to Batarr.”

  “Just because you can read their language and Sasli has told you a few things, you think you’re an instant expert.”

  “I don’t think I’m an expert,” Susie replied indignantly. “I’m just not as rude as you.”

  “I’m just honest.”

  “You’re rude and insensitive.”

  “And you’re a know-it-all who can’t keep your nose out of other people’s business.”

  “Not when it makes us all look bad.”

  Joe glared at Susie a moment. “Well, anyway, I hate water and I’m not very good at swimming in mountainous seas.”

  “It won’t come to that,” Chris said.

  “And how do you know?” Joe replied.

  “I’m sure Batarr has a plan if the weather turns bad.”

  “Yeah, we all swim.”

  Chris could see Joe was in one of his stubborn moods. “There are probably something like life-jackets around here, or a life boat if something really bad happens.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know,” Chris replied, trying not to allow his irritation to seep into his voice. “All I’m saying is Batarr wouldn’t take unnecessary risks. Not with all that’s at stake.”

  Joe didn’t answer. He just turned back to looking over the water.

  The activity on the boat had increased markedly after Altac left. The soldiers were busy stowing away, or strapping down, anything that could cause damage in bad weather. Altac reappeared and suggested they should get a few hours’ rest while the weather was still calm. This suggestion was eagerly accepted. They followed him below deck to a cabin with several rows of bunk beds, some of which were already occupied.

  Despite the excitement of the day’s events, everyone felt tired and accepted the beds gladly. Within minutes, Chris fell fast asleep.

  Chris woke with a jolt. He had landed on the floor of the cabin after rolling off his bunk. As he rose to his feet, another wave hit the boat and toppled him back onto his bunk. It was light, and he could hear rain pounding on the deck above. Joe and Susie’s bunks were already empty. He noticed a light coming from his trouser pocket and pulled out the key - it was glowing.

  More waves crashed into the boat, sending him sprawling across the floor for a second time. Mainly by crawling on his hands and knees, he managed to reach the hatch to the main cabin. When he opened it, he found Susie and Joe clinging to a series of benches in the corner of the cabin with the rest of the crew. There was no sign of Batarr or Altac.

  “How long has it been like this?” Chris asked, after half sliding across the cabin floor to his friends. The boat lurched sideways again and everyone slid across the floor. Chris slid into a bench, followed by several soldiers and Joe.

  “Maybe ten minutes,” Joe said, in a voice wavering with fear.

  Chris clambered over to one of the portholes and looked out. The sea was already mountainous.

  “What about the other boats?”

  “We’ve lost contact with them,” Joe yelled above the rising noise of the wind.

  Even in the short time he had been awake, Chris noticed the light had faded markedly. The rest of the company was also gathering around the portholes. The sounds of thunder could now be clearly heard over the chatter of the soldiers. Joe and Susie pushed their way to Chris’s side. There were now frequent lightning strikes and the waves were being whipped to foam by the wind and rain. Another wave hit the boat, sending the crew and soldiers sprawling across the floor again. The boat lurched sharply and there was loud crash as the whole deck vibrated. Chris looked out the porthole to see the main mast hanging over the side of the boat.

  The hatch flung open and Altac appeared amidst a torrent of water. A lightning strike lit up his face. His eyes were wide with fear and his scar stood out, dark and jagged, against his pale features. He barked orders at his soldiers and four Taal rushed outside, slamming the hatch behind them. The darkness outside was now almost complete. There was a loud thud on the deck, then another and another. Soon the deck vibrated like a huge drum, as thousands of hailstones, some the size of human fists, pounded the boat. The crew huddled close, then first one porthole, then another, cracked and smashed, spraying glass fragments and water everywhere, and sending the crew scurrying to patch the holes with anything they could find.

  The hatch flung open again and this time Batarr appeared. He looked around quickly. When he saw Chris, he pushed he way through the knot of soldiers still clinging to each other on the floor and gripped him by the shoulder.

  “You must help us, Mytar!” he bellowed over the fury of the storm. His green eyes locked Chris in their stare, filling him with terror.

  “What can I do?” Chris shouted back.

  “I can’t reach them.”

  “Reach who?”

  Batarr didn’t answer; gripping him by the collar, he dragged Chris to the hatch leading to the sleeping quarters and threw him in. Chris started looking around for something he could use to defend himself. Batarr jumped down and closed the hatch behind him as Chris retreated to the far corner of the cabin. But in the next lightning strike, Chris saw that Batarr’s eyes were fixed intently on him in hope, not fury. Batarr pulled what appeared to be a large tooth from his coat.

  “Remember when you used the knife to locate Zelnoff?” he said.

  “Yes...”

  “I’ve been trying to contact the Wassin, who live in these waters. They’re like the dolphins on your home planet, except much larger. The boat’s engine has stalled and the mast’s broken. They’re the only ones who can help us now.”

  He thrust the tooth toward Chris. “Clear your mind and concentrate on the tooth,” he demanded.

  Chris took the tooth. Another lightning strike momentarily lit up Batarr’s face. There were deep lines on his forehead and shadows of exhaustion under his eyes. “Where’ll I tell them to go?”

  “Once you make contact, I’ll direct them here. Hurry.”

  As previously, Chris held the tooth loosely in his hand. The visions came immediately. A pod of about ten Wassin was swimming just below the surface. They were huge, with bulbous heads and rows of sharp teeth. He concentrated on the lead Wassin. Immediately images started flowing into his mind. The Wassin had already found the wreckage of the other two boats and were aware that Batarr and his people were in trouble. The pod was close but heading in the wrong direction. Chris felt the presence of another mind - Batarr was there. The leader stopped swimming, turned sharply and headed toward them. The link was suddenly broken. Chris opened his eyes to find Batarr had taken the tooth out of his hand.

  “You’ve done well, Mytar,” he said, and in two strides, he had vanished through the hatchway.

  When Chris reached the cabin he explained to Susie and Joe what had happened. The pounding on the deck appeared to be less intense but the boat was still pitching dangerously. Water was now pouring in through the smashed portholes, and soldiers were busy bailing with anything they could find, or plugging the holes with parts of benches ripped from the galley.

  In the brief few seconds he had contact with the Guardian’s mind, Chris had learned that Batarr’s men were standing by on the deck of the boat with ropes. These would be thrown to the Wassin when they arrived. It would be their last chance. Without any form of power, the boat, like the other two fishing boats, would surely be swamped and smashed to pieces by the sea.

  Now knowing the crisis they were in, Chris couldn’t just wa
it and do nothing. On impulse, he decided to help direct the Wassin to the boat. He quickly clambered past the sprawling bodies of soldiers to the hatchway leading outside.

  “Where’re you going?” asked one of the soldiers Chris had climbed over.

  Chris didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed hard against the hatch. It flew open and he clambered out. He knew immediately he had made a big mistake. The freezing wind, like a huge moaning monster, knocked him flat on his back. Wave after wave slammed into the side of the boat, throwing him aimlessly across the deck. Each time he tried to rise from his knees, the lurching boat made him slip on the piles of hailstones. He heard shouts as Altac’s men realised he was on the deck. Another wave slammed into the boat, throwing him hard against a railing. Finally, he managed to grab hold and haul himself to his feet. Several soldiers at the front of the boat were holding on to ropes they had thrown over the side. He could sense the Wassin were now circling the boat. Another soldier was slowly edging along the railing toward him. It was Altac.

  The boat jolted forward as the Wassin began pulling on the ropes. The jolt dislodged Chris’s grip and he tumbled back further, only managing to grab the rail at the very rear of the boat. He started screaming for help. Another wave struck and he almost choked on all the water he swallowed. The rail was cutting into his hands and the water almost blinded him. Gathering all his remaining strength, Chris dragged himself forward along the railing.

  Through the rain, he could see several figures crawling along the railing toward him. They were screaming something and pointing, but the wind carried their voices away. Then, with a growing, sickening realisation, Chris turned to where they were pointing. A massive wall of water was bearing down on him. Powerless to do anything, he watched as the wave rose and broke over him. He was lifted away from the boat and thrown into the depths of the sea. Deeper and deeper the swirl of current dragged him, until the force of the wave was finally spent. Only then, with bursting lungs, was he was able to claw back to the surface.

  When Chris broke through, the boat was already a distant bobbing cork, disappearing amongst mountainous sea. The rain had nearly stopped, but he knew that land was a long way off. The waves continually tossed and dunked him, so that it took all his strength just to keep afloat. But there was still hope. Not all the Wassin had left with the boat, and the remaining Wassin were close, searching for something. Chris concentrated his thoughts, trying to guide them to him. He felt their presence. Then he saw himself, two legs and arms thrashing out against the sea. A Wassin surged. The roughness of the creature’s skin brushed against him. He clutched at the dorsal fin and was jolted forward as a wall of muscle lifted him out of the water.

  What happened next was a blur of cold, terror and exhaustion. He measured time only by the frequent periods underwater and the fear of losing his grip on the creature as it dived under the waves. Many times his grip failed him, and for some seconds he was left floundering amongst the waves, but always the rough re-assuring mound of Wassin muscle rose out of the waves to support him, allowing him valuable time to catch his breath and renew his grip on the creature. Then the nightmare of diving and surfacing would continue. After what seemed like hours, with his grip finally failing and consciousness slipping away, he felt one last powerful thrust and found himself thrown up on dry land.

  He rolled over several times before stopping. The Wassin, who had saved him, was half out of the water, looking straight at him like some hungry, greedy shark. Then, with a flick of its tail, the creature was gone.

  Chris rolled onto his side. In front of him, the mountains towered into the clouds like a series of giant, white coated, metal spikes. The wind had dropped and the sun was beginning to break through the clouds. The warmth was magical. He crawled on his hands and knees higher up the beach, shivering uncontrollably in his wet clothes. Waves of exhaustion swept through him as he collapsed on his back. The rays of sun on his skin felt marvellous. He closed his eyes and thought he would sleep for just a moment.

 

  Chapter 5: An Ancient Race