PART III

CHAPTER 7

Darkness engulfed low like a pillow pushed over his face. The rope chaffed him painfully under his arms andacross his testicles. Paul sincerely wished that he had thought to pad his rig. He pulled a mag-light from hislapel pocket and shone the thin beam into the surrounding gloom: Nothing was revealed in the pitch black that surroundedhis body. The air was still and foetid: The only things he felt were the occasional dusting of falling soil andthe beating of his own racing heart The noise and bustle of the camp could still be heard overhead. He knew thatsoon this would pass out of earshot and he would be alone in the dark.
'25 feet boss,' Fox's dumb hick voice crackled over the radio attached to his belt. The voice echoed ominously.
Paul looked above him and saw the faint light of the outside world above him. He saw the Cocytan's strange facepeering down at him. A halo of sunlight made Clasus appear almost like an angel: one of God's ugliest angels, butan angel none the less.
'100 feet…' the voice crackled.
Paul was shocked: He didn't think he had travelled that quickly. 'Slow it down, Fox,' he ordered. 'I don't wantto be smashed off the floor.'
There was a pause and then Fox replied. 'But Clasus says we got plenty of time yet. He says that this things almosttwo miles deep' he whined.
Paul had no idea that it would be that much. 'Jesus Christ,' he whispered in awe.
The silence was total now only broken occasionally by bursts of broken radio as Fox monitored his progress withregular broadcasts: Paul soon ignored them, distance was meaningless in this void.
Paul craned his head back to a painful angle and found he could just about see the light of the chasm entrance:It shone down on him like a lonely star, his only companion in the night.
In the absence of any real visual stimuli, Paul active mind decided to people the darkness. He imagined monstersand devils waiting for him in the dark. Once he could have sworn that he saw a deeper shadow swimming in the darknesslike a great, black shark. But he blinked and then there was nothing. Paul decided he did not like this darkness.It was watchful. Half-glimpsed creatures and points of light could be seen or imagined far away through the murkyblack. Once, Paul was convinced that he could hear ragged breathing coming from just behind his left shoulder.He whirled on his rope and the noise ceased. But was that faint mocking laughter he could hear receding into thedistance? 'What the fuck is this?' Paul shouted. 'A cheap fucking carnival ghost train!'
There was no reply. The darkness swallowed his words. Paul closed his eyes and gripped the rope so tightly thathis knuckles began to bleed. The liquid dripped from his hands and fell quietly into the blackness below.
'1 mile…' the radio crackled.
Paul opened his eyes. Or had he? The view was no different. Had he slept? Or had all that distance just passedhim by without him even noticing. He suddenly felt more alone then he could ever remember being. 'Fox,' he said,after pressing the 'ON' button of his radio. 'Put Clasus on. I want to speak to him.'
Fox did not answer.
'Fox?'
Again there was no answer. 'Oh, shit,' thought Paul. 'The radio's dead.' Was he still descending? He realisedthat he couldn't tell! The darkness was complete and there was no frame of reference to judge his position with.The light of the surface was now left far behind. Paul began to panic. Was this it then? Would he dangle here likea sad unwanted puppet on its string? Paul didn't want to die. Not here… not like this.
'1 mile and 50 feet…' the radio crackled faintly.
Paul almost cried. Thank god, thank god, thank god. He pressed the 'On' button and hissed: 'Fox, Fox… Can youhear me?'
But again there was no reply. The radio was picking up the signals but not transmitting. Paul could only listenas Fox read out the distances like a bizarre litany. The stupid hick hadn't even realised that Paul wasn't acknowledginghis reports. But surely Clasus would have realised something was amiss? Or did the damn Cocytan know that thiswould happen and had decided not to tell him?
Time didn't seem to pass down in the underground. Paul didn't count the minutes or the hours that he descended.He was just there. The only man left in the dark of the world after God had turned out the lights. OccasionallyFox would flick his surface radio to 'On' and inform the darkness that it had the pleasure to dwell at '1 and aquarter miles' or '1 and a half miles.' Paul couldn't have cared less.
Images from his past began to project themselves on the dark screen before his eyes. Paul was forced to watchthem. There was a lot of violence, a lot of hurt, a small amount of love. But the predominant images were one'sof desperation. He was a man driven by necessity. A man who had to fight every day for his right to stay a live.A man made tough by an uncaring world. A man - and Paul laughed bitterly with this strange realisation - who wasbarely a man at all but more akin a hunted, desperate animal. A grim thought indeed, but Paul felt little emotion.How could he feel anything in this close womb-like space? The cares of the real world seemed far behind him. Hesmiled. Perhaps this place wasn't so bad after all. There was nobody to hurt him here.
Paul was almost disappointed when some time later he something moving beneath his feet. Houston, the eagle haslanded.

Seven dead men awaited Paul upon touching down. His left boot had landed on something slippery and pliant. Heshone his torch down and saw the grotesque recently dead face staring up at him. It was Boers, one of the roughsthat had fallen down from the world above, his broad Slavic-looking face crushed into a nasty, purple pulp. Theman's head was bent at a nasty unnatural angle and Paul could see a jagged crack in the man's skull. Paul's footwas standing on the man's broken rib cage. He quickly moved it to firmer footing. Shining his torch around Paulsaw there was blood all over what appeared to be a natural rocky floor. Here and there lay ugly lumps of gristlethat had once been his work crew. The men must have practically exploded upon impact like the seven fat bags ofblood that they were.
Ever the practical man Paul undid his harness, sighing as the burning tightness that had chafed his most privatearea was removed. 'There'll be a nasty rash there for sure,' he though gloomily.
Carefully placing his rig in the least bloody area it suddenly struck Paul that the rope was no longer beingfed down. Did they know that he had touched down? They must! But what now? What would his men do when they realisedthat he was out of radio contact? Paul did not like the idea of Clasus running his show upstairs. He didn't likeit one little bit. No time to worry about that now! His men couldn't contact him and he couldn't count on any help.He had to explore. He had to discover what lurked in the darkness beyond the bright, white glare of his mag-light.Above all, he had to find out what Clasus wanted so badly down in this vast, underground enigma. Whether he sharedthis discovery with the Cocytan was a decision for a later time.
Shining the mag-light directly ahead of him, Paul walked into the gloom.

CHAPTER 8

The fighters came screaming down from the heavens, raining incandescent bolts of crimson death. Flames leapt fromthe ground and the terrified men ran screaming. Clasus looked on emotionless. So they had come at last? He hadknown they would. Looking up into the sky the Cocytan saw the mother ship hovering high above the small dartingcrystal fighters. Clasus knew who would be at the controls of the ship. He also knew which two vile creatures stoodto the left and right of him. Clasus almost laughed! He had not spent the past 10 years drifting from planet toplanet, an exile from his beloved home, just so that those stunted fools could kill him like a Ghunzar in a trap.
The winch operator had long fled from his post and was most probably dead by now. Clasus was the only stationaryobject in the vicinity. Everything else - the ground, the men, the tents - was in violent motion under the relentlessblasting of the hornet-like fighter ships.
Clasus decided he could wait no longer. If he did then he would be killed, or even worse he would be spotted.The three aboard that mother ship were of a kind that could think up many more imaginative fates than mere death.Clasus turned and as the camp was quickly and efficiently wiped from existence he silently leapt into the hole.
Blackness quickly enveloped him. The silence was palatable and he barely felt the air whistling past him as hetumbled faster and faster through the dark. Clearing his mind, he forced himself to calmness. He did not wish todwell on the exquisite moment of pain he would feel on impact.
It did not take long until he hit the ground with a sickening thud. He landed feet first and the force of theimpact drove his thigh bones high up into his stomach, which burst open spewing it's acidic juices into his body.Clasus let out a roar and fell forward his tiny arms flailing were unable to stop his head lolling forward on itslong neck and bashing off the rock floor. Blood streamed into his eyes, robbing him of his sight. He was dying;he could feel the life flowing from him with ever second. The big Cocytan tried to lift his head and found thathe couldn't. He lay dying on the floor and howled, howled, howled. His terrible death rattle was swallowed by thedarkness until finally he howled no more.

CHAPTER 9

Paul had walked no more that 50 feet from his starting point when he heard the crash behind him. Instinctivelyhis head whipped around to the direction of the sound. His mind raced. But before he had time to consider the meaningof the noise the awful howling began. The sound was like a cold wire down Paul's spine. It put one in mind of ahellspawn cross between a screaming baby and a bear caught in a metal trap. Flicking the torch off, Paul withdrewhis pistol from its holster. Despite his fear, he knew he would have to investigate the noise. He could ill affordto ignore anything in this strange new world.
Advancing silently through the gloom, the noises grew louder and louder. There could be no doubt now - this wasthe noise of a creature, perhaps not a human creature but definitely some kind of life - and it sounded like itwas in a hell of agony.
As the noise reached a stomach churning crescendo, Paul became aware of a huge bulky form lying in his path.This was the source of the horrible wailing. Paul was beyond terror now as the inhuman screaming assaulted hisears. All rationale now gone, Paul raised his weapon and readied his finger on the trigger.
The screaming stopped abruptly as if it were a stereo cut off from the mains. A deafening silence filled the emptiness.Paul, realising he had not breathed for almost a minute, let his breath out. Was this creature dead? Keeping hisgun trained on the faint black outline, Paul drew out his mag-light and holding the small torch in his shakinghand he flipped the switch.
It took several seconds before he realised that the sad pile of fur and bone and gore was his old acquaintance,Clasus. Judging by the impact crater the poor Cocytan had hit the floor with tremendous force. Paul was surprisedthat it had taken the alien so long to die. A human would have been killed instantly. Ever the practical man, Paulhad no time to grieve for Clasus. Instead his mind pondered the implications of this event. How had Clasus felldown here? There were tree possibilities: He had fell by accident - Paul immediately discounted that, whateverother qualities Clasus possessed, stupidity was not one of them: Perhaps Paul's own men had cast the Cocytan downinto the abyss. This idea held more merit for his men were an untrustworthy bunch. However, the men feared Paul'swrath (more from his reputation than from any actual evidence) intensely. And they knew that Clasus held the keytoo their reward. So why murder him? Paul doubted that this was the truth: The only other alternative that struckPaul was that Clasus had purposefully jumped to his doom. Why? Why? Why? Paul did not understand at all.
As Paul closed in on the still form of the Cocytan he became aware of something decidedly odd. There was a redflashing coming from the hairy flank of Clasus corpse. Paul bent over the body and could clearly see the red glowflashing on and off like a big Christmas tree light buried deep under the thick fur. Straining to get a betterlook, yet not wanting to actually touch the sickening bloody mass of Clasus body, Paul became aware of a faintBEEP! BEEP! BEEP! The noise was distinctly electronic in nature and it came from the location of the strange light.What device would Clasus possibly keep buried under his fur? Paul curiosity demanded he find out. Brushing thebloodied fur aside Paul gingerly plunged his hand into the thick, wiry hair. His fingers closed around somethingsmooth and cylindrical attached to Clasus's skin by some unknown agent. A sharp tug and the device came free quiteeasily. Paul withdrew his hand and found he was holding onto a coconut sized blinking-red oval that was made ofa rubbery and malleable polymer. Turning the blinking device over and over in his hands he saw filigree thin markingsdecorating the surface but the language was unfamiliar. On one side of the oval Paul found a dark metal plate.Holding the contraption aloft Paul ran his hand over the slightly warm plate. Suddenly the red blinking stopped.The big man held his breath as the seconds passed by and nothing untoward appeared to happen. Paul breathed outin relief… and the device exploded. Slime, green viscous slime, was ejected high into the air. Paul fell to hisknees clutching his stinging hand. Thankfully all digits appeared intact. The ejected slime landed, coating theliving human and the dead Cocytan. It landed on Paul's hair, got into his eyes and he snapped them closed as astrange, yet not unpleasant, tingling engulf his entire body.
Paul fell to one side. He was no longer cognisant of cold stone and oppressive darkness that surrounded him.His mind was awash with filament bright images from his past, his present and future. He saw worlds and universesthat he knew he, or indeed no human, had or ever would see but that he knew for certain existed somewhere in theunimaginable reaches of time and space. For one single moment he knew everything, understood the universe and hisplace in it. He knew how it had came to be and how it would end. It was all so simple. There was a flash of purestblack and then the knowledge simply slipped from his mind leaving him with one simple truth: You are not meantto know.
He may have lain immobile for mere seconds or for an entire age of the Earth. Eventually he became aware of thepressure of stone beneath him and the cold of the dark above him. He opened his eyes and sat up.
Clasus sat opposite him. The bones were healed and the blood was gone. His head turned towards Paul. He was alive!
'Thank you, Paul' he said simply. 'Thank you.'

TO BE CONTINUED...

Copyright DBurr 2000

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