James Abraham Carter
The phone rang at three in the morning, the shrill tone cutting through the thin veil of sleep that still hung over Thomas Lane as he slumbered in his modest London flat. He answered his iPhone on the third ring, wondering who the hell would be calling him at this ungodly hour. Then, as his mind came to full alertness, the chill of fear came upon him. Could it be a family emergency?
“Tom,” said the voice on the other end, crisp and oddly excited, “it’s Uncle Albert. I have something remarkable to show you. I need you here… Today, if you can make it after work.”
Thomas blinked. “Albert? What’s happened? You sound…”
“Do not ask questions yet,” Albert cut in. “Come to Yew Hall. It’s private. You will understand when you see it.”
There was a pause, a soft chuckle. “And no, I will not elaborate over the phone. I’m counting on your curiosity, Thomas. I’ll be waiting.”
The line went dead, but the seed of intrigue had already taken root, overriding his annoyance at having been woken so early in the morning. Thomas, whose days were usually spent cataloging ancient relics in the British Museum, felt the pull of a mystery that was far stronger than any of the latest discoveries. He had to work today, and the drive to his uncle’s residence after he’d finished would be tiring, but somehow he sensed it would be worth it. The hours dragged, and he found it difficult to focus on his tasks, but at last, after what seemed like an eternity, the workday ended. After a quick shower and a hurried dinner, he set off in his old Volkswagon for the English countryside, where the ancient stone manor of his eccentric uncle perched like a crown upon a hill of heather.
**********
The road to Yew Hall wound through ancient oaks and fields cloaked in early evening mist, giving the scene an eerie, spectral appearance. The automated wrought-iron gates opened, and as he drove up toward the stately home, the manor’s silhouette loomed, its battlements a reminder of a bygone age. Thomas stopped in front of the imposing edifice. He stepped out of his car, his boots crunching on the gravel drive, and was met by a man whose posture betrayed his years but whose eyes glittered with a childlike eagerness.
“Tom! You made it,” Albert shouted, clasping his nephew in a surprisingly strong embrace. “Come, we don’t have time to waste.”
They crossed the courtyard, past a formal garden, and entered the manor’s stables. The scent of hay and horses was absent, replaced by a clean, sharp odor reminiscent of electrical discharges. The building had been repurposed, and at the center of the cavernous space stood an object. It was made of polished oak and shaped like a capsule. The body of the thing was at least twelve feet in height and was made taller by the four splayed wooden legs supporting it. Circular windows resembling portholes were spaced evenly around the apex, and a much larger window projected just below them in the manner of a camera’s lens. There was also a hatch, but it was on the other side, and Thomas could not see it from where he was standing.
Thomas stared, his breath caught in his throat. “What… is that?”
Albert clapped a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “A ship, Tom. Not a ship of this world, but a vessel that can slip between dimensions.”
Thomas’s mind raced. The ship was made of wood. Had his uncle gone mad? He didn’t voice his worry and asked instead, “You’re an archaeologist, Albert. How…?”
“Ah, the mysteries of fate,” laughed the older man, grinning at his nephew’s obvious consternation. “You think I’m ready for the madhouse. It’s all right. I’m not offended. I’d reach the same conclusion if I were you.”
He gestured dramatically toward a large workbench set against the far wall. “There lies the story. Come, sit at the workbench. I’ll prove I’m sane and tell you how a Mayan tomb became the key to a universe beyond ours.”
As Thomas sat down, Albert pulled a battered leather satchel from the bench drawer and set it on top. He spread out the bag’s contents, a series of yellowed bark-paper codices, their edges worn and the ink faded by time.
“Eighteen months ago, on the Yucatán Peninsula, my team uncovered a tomb unlike any we had previously seen. The chamber was sealed in a manner that resembled no known Mayan methods. Inside lay a body—no, a man-like being—encased in a burial suit of jade plates held together with gold wires. The codex I found next to it narrated his story.”
Thomas leaned eagerly forward, the glow of the lights reflecting in his eyes. “What did it say?”
Albert’s voice softened. “The name of the tomb’s occupant was Ammas. He was not of this world. He came from a place called Axan, a realm parallel to our own. He was the inventor and pilot of a trans-dimensional craft and had come to Earth on a mission to save his people. But from what threat, I do not know. That part of the codex was too badly damaged to decipher.
“Unfortunately, his ship malfunctioned, stranding him on Earth, and he was forced to live among the Maya, integrating into their society and becoming a great sorcerer due to his mastery of advanced science. But even so, he could not repair his vessel for lack of specialized tools. The years passed, and when he felt his life drawing to a close, he had his tomb constructed and arranged for the ship’s drive core—an orange-hued crystal—to be buried with his body, hoping future humans of a more advanced society would find it and complete his mission.”
Thomas ran a finger over the glyphs, tracing the ancient script, amazement clearly showing on his face. Being an assistant curator, he could tell the documents were genuine and could even read enough of the script to know his uncle spoke the truth.
“And you… rebuilt the ship?”
Albert grinned, a flash of triumph in his eyes. “The codex contained all the information I needed. It took me a year to construct this vessel using my carpentry skills. When the hull was complete, I installed the drive core at its heart. All this work has been carried out in utmost secrecy.”
Thomas stared at his uncle. “But why? Your colleagues? How could they not know?”
“A lie here, a half-truth there. When I realized what the codex contained, I deliberately knocked over a kerosene lamp in my tent. It caught fire as I had planned, and I arranged things so that it appeared that the codex and the crystal were destroyed in the blaze. I could not risk the military learning of a device that could—”
“—be weaponized.” Thomas finished; the weight of the implication settled heavily upon him. “You’ve kept this from everyone.”
Albert’s expression grew solemn. “The drive can manipulate space-time and open portals to other universes. Yes, in the wrong hands, it could become a weapon of unimaginable power, more destructive than the atomic bomb. I have chosen to protect humanity by keeping it a secret.”
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a ruby ring, its surface flawless and its red facets catching the light. “Ammas’ codex mentioned a ruby,” he said, placing the ring in Thomas’s hand. “It is a mineral absent from his world, but one he knew existed on Earth, discovered by his advanced scientific instruments. In his dimension, this ruby can become a weapon to defeat whatever threatens his people. I took this from my collection of antique jewelry. It will be my gift to the people of Axan.”
Thomas felt the cool metal against his palm, the stone’s inner fire glowing in the overhead lights against his skin. “And you want me to… go?”
“A great discovery awaits you, Tom. You will be the first person to set foot on another world, a living world, not a dead world like the moon. You have the thirst for adventure, the mind to understand, and the heart to carry a purpose beyond yourself. Time is different in the other dimension,” explained Albert. “On Earth, centuries have gone by, but on Axan, only a few days have passed. Will you take up Ammas’ mission for the sake of Axan? Will you give his people a chance at life?”
The silence stretched, broken only by the distant hoot of an owl. Outside, the night pressed against the windows, as if eagerly peering within, awaiting his answer with breathless expectation.
Thomas thought of the countless hours he’d spent among the silent relics of ancient civilizations, yearning for more than his job, though interesting, could offer. He looked at the ruby ring, at the incredible ship, and at his uncle’s expectant gaze.
“I don’t know what awaits me, Albert, but I’ll go.”
Albert clasped his nephew’s shoulder, his grip firm. “Then you can begin at once. The operation of the vessel is simple. All you have to do is push the start button. The ship will do the rest.”
He placed a small, silver device—no larger than a hearing aid—into Thomas’s ear. “This is a translator - Ammas’ own technology from his tomb. It will decode any language you encounter, and through its tiny speaker, your words will be translated into theirs.”
Thomas slipped the ring onto his finger, wondering how such a simple thing could be a weapon. Then he remembered that rubies were used in certain types of lasers. Could this be the answer? He turned to the ship, its polished surface shining in the workshop’s lights. Excitement took hold. He’d soon find out.
His uncle guided him around the ship. The craft’s hatch was open. He stepped inside, with Albert following. The interior was cramped and bereft of instruments. The only mechanism was a brass column that rose from the middle of the flat circular deck, and at its apex was the drive core - an orange crystal similar in form to natural quartz. A single glass button glowed a soft amber on the metallic mount that held the alien gemstone to the column.
“This is the button that activates the vessel,” Albert explained. “The ship is fully automatic. Your journey will be completed in no more than a minute. To return to Earth, press it again, and it will bring you safely home. Over there is a box of provisions should you need it. I haven’t provided any weapons. Arriving unarmed is the best way to convince these people that you mean no harm.”
Albert looked at Thomas, his expression serious. Both men knew this was a voyage into the unknown, potentially dangerous, possibly fatal.
“I’m ready.” Thomas stated, his voice as firm as his resolve.
The two men shook hands. Albert exited the ship and sealed the hatch. Thomas took a deep breath. He pressed the button.
A low hum filled the converted stables, rising to a resonant chord that propagated throughout the entire building. The ship was enveloped in a silvery glow. It brightened; the light flowed outward in argent waves. The air grew charged with strange forces, and suddenly, the world outside the vessel dissolved into an expanse of golden luminescence.
Thomas stared through the observation window, his eyes filled with wonder as a cascade of luminous particles swirled around the ship. The golden void in which the craft floated was silent, an infinite expanse of otherness. There was no feeling of motion. Instead, he felt a strange pressure in his entire body, a sensation of being stretched and compressed at once, as if the universe itself were folding.
Then the golden light receded, and Thomas found himself staring at a world that should have been a bustling plaza but was now a tangled jungle of vines and lichen-covered stones. The vessel had materialized in a broad area that, in ages past, had been a central square. But now, it was densely overgrown with vegetation, profuse with lilac blooms. Around the perimeter, crumbling columns rose like giant, petrified trees, their age-stained surfaces reclaimed by creeping vines.
He felt a deep unease gathering within him. Something had gone terribly wrong. The ruins had the look of centuries of abandonment, not mere days. Perhaps the ship had overshot, or maybe Albert had been mistaken in his calculations.
Whatever the answer, it would not be found by staying inside the ship. Thomas stepped out of the craft, his boots sinking slightly into the soft, humid earth. The air was thick with the scent of wet foliage, and the distant call of unseen creatures was the only sound. Sunlight filtered through a canopy of broad leaves, casting dappled patterns on the ancient masonry.
“No sign of intelligent life,” Thomas muttered, his eyes scanning the overgrown ruins.
A rustle from the underbrush caught Thomas’s full attention. From the shadows emerged a creature of sinew and teeth, its dark, scaly hide giving it a reptilian appearance. It was a massive beast, eyes glinting with primal hunger, its jaws opening to reveal rows of jagged teeth.
Thomas’s heart hammered. He had not prepared for survival in a world reclaimed by savage nature. Instinct took over as the creature rushed forward. He lunged for a long, spear-like branch that had fallen to the ground. Grasping it, he thrust with all his strength at the charging beast. The branch slammed into the monster’s eye, penetrating deeply. The wood snapped, and Thomas leaped aside. The creature screeched as it stumbled past him. It crashed to the loamy soil. The beast convulsed violently in a paroxysm of pain, its dying breath a rattling shudder in the humid air.
Panting, Thomas stared at the inert monster. “What next?” He whispered, then turned his gaze back to the safety of the ship. Nothing but uninhabited ruins lay all around him. He had arrived too late to avert the catastrophe that had overtaken the civilization of Axan. He could return to Earth. But should he return to Earth?
Thomas considered. He had come seeking adventure and a chance to make a difference, and although the world before him was a labyrinth of ruins and hostile wildlife, a living remnant of this once-mighty civilization might still exist. He pushed forward, resolute in his determination to investigate.
**********
Hours—or perhaps a mere thirty minutes; time had lost its meaning—passed as Thomas forced his way through the tangled undergrowth, climbed crumbling stairways, and followed the faint sound of water that seemed to drift from somewhere deeper within the ruins. He eventually came upon the river, and on its banks soared a structure, not at all like the architecture of the ruins. The strange creation rose above the canopy of the forest like a grotesque spire. Its walls were not stone but an amber, semi-translucent organic substance whose surface had the texture of tree bark. The weird structure was an alien discord, not at all in harmony with its surroundings.
As he was about to cautiously move forward to investigate the strange spire, a pulsing glow caught his eye. From the canopy descended a mass of translucent, amber-hued, globular creatures, their faintly glowing bodies composed of the same strange substance as the spire. What was most unsettling was the way their slender, filamentous tentacles writhed with the sinister motion of serpents. Their movements were swift and purposeful, and as they approached, the air grew heavy with an aura of menace that left a distinct impression on Thomas that the creatures were not native to this world.
Realizing the danger, he turned to flee, only to find that other globes had emerged from the undergrowth, and he was now surrounded on all sides. Thomas fought down his panic as one of the beings halted before him, its globular body hovering inches above his head. From its core, a structure shot through with silver filaments; a voice resonated—a chorus of clicks and low frequencies that the translator scrambled to interpret.
“Captive,” it intoned, the word reverberating through Thomas’s mind. “We are Meduson. You are intruder.”
Before he could respond, long tendrils shot out, wrapping around his arms and binding him with the strength of steel cables. The other spheres closed in, and he was dragged—the creature gripping him, for all its seeming fragility, was amazingly strong—toward the strange, unnerving spire.
Thomas, despite his wild efforts to escape, was thrust through a massive doorway that spiraled open like an iris and dragged down a cavernous hall to the laboratory beyond. The air in the vast room was warm, crackling with electrical discharges and tainted with a faint chemical odor. In the center of the room stood a towering construct of intertwined silver cables and interlinked crystalline Platonic solids, throbbing with a dim blue light. Around it, countless Meduson moved in a coordinated swarm, their tendrils manipulating strange instruments that hissed with sparking energy.
Against one wall, seeming to grow from the floor, was a cage. His captors dragged him to it. A section of the bars vanished at a Meduson’s touch, only to rematerialize after he was violently thrust inside. Within, he found a lone figure—a woman, or rather a being that bore a striking resemblance to a human girl. Her curly hair was a reddish-brown, her almond-shaped eyes were green, and her skin was olive in complexion. But overlying her appearance was an otherworldly quality that was impossible to define precisely. She looked at Thomas with eyes that held a deep, unfathomable sorrow.
The translator clicked to life when she spoke. “My name is Nivta,” the young woman said, her voice a pleasing contralto. “Clearly, you are not from my world. We are in great danger. Listen carefully while I explain. I am the last of my people. The Meduson, our captors, invaded this world of Axan centuries ago. They slaughtered my kind, leaving only the ruins you see. Only I survived because I had been placed in suspended animation in a secret chamber. But the foul creatures discovered my hiding place several days ago. They revived me, and I have been kept here, a specimen, for them to study.”
Thomas felt a surge of anger. “What… what do they want with you?”
“I was the queen of my people. I have knowledge that they need, knowledge that will enable them to conquer other dimensions. They have made themselves immortal; their bodies are invulnerable. None of our weapons could stop them. My brother…”
Nivta gasped. Thomas followed the direction of her frightened gaze. He tensed. Three Meduson glided toward the cage, their translucent, snaky limbs rippling sinisterly. The bars vanished at their touch, and they seized Nivta, dragging her out and toward a device with writhing mechanical tentacles. The girl fought wildly, but the cruel grip of her ruthless captors was unbreakable. She screamed as her clothes were torn away, exposing her curvaceous figure. The tentacles of the device snaked around her belly and between her thighs. Her wrists and ankles were also cruelly captured; her limbs were spread obscenely wide.
“What are you doing?” Thomas shouted wildly.
The Meduson’s leader, larger than the rest, spoke in a resonant tone that the translator rendered as a cold, inhuman reply. “We will extract her memories, her knowledge of the ancient technologies, and use it to enable our invasion of other realities.”
Needles, hissing with an eerie blue light, thrust out from other tentacles. Nivta’s eyes widened in terror. “No!” She screamed, her voice echoing off the walls.
Thomas felt a surge of rage wash over him. He lunged at the bars, his fists furiously striking the crystal. The ruby ring connected. The gemstone flared with crimson light. All the while, it had been absorbing the strange energies of the alien dimension. It was no longer a harmless mineral. In this other reality, it had become a lens, a focus of raw power.
The bars shattered, shards exploding outward like fireworks. The cage collapsed, and the broken pieces tinkled on the floor. Thomas stumbled out, the ruby flaring with an aura of actinic light.
The Meduson recoiled, their translucent bodies rippling with a vibration of terror that seemed to propagate through the air. Thomas raced to the machine where Nivta writhed. He slammed his fist into the nearest Meduson. The ruby’s energy flared, an explosion of scarlet light enveloping the creature. It convulsed violently, then dissolved into a fine, iridescent mist that swiftly dissipated.
Nivta screamed. The needles were about to pierce her flesh. Thomas slammed the ring against the horrid machine. Flaring cracks radiated from the point of impact. The device disintegrated into tinkling shards. The girl was free, but the danger was far from over.
“Beware!” Nivta shouted, scrambling to her feet. “More are coming.”
Thomas raised his hand again, feeling the ruby pulsing with a power he could not fully comprehend. He struck another Meduson as it lunged. The creature’s body disintegrated, its strange life energy disrupted by the blazing gemstone.
More of the creatures surged forward. Thomas threw himself wildly at his swarming foes. Each time his fist connected, the ring flared, and the creature disintegrated in a burst of crimson light, its body vaporizing. He felt the ring’s energy coursing through his veins, a painful, exhilarating burn that threatened to consume him.
“Nivta!” He shouted, turning to the girl. "I can’t fight them all. It won’t be long before they bring weapons of greater range than mine.”
The fog of terror clouding Nivta’s mind had dissipated. Her eyes widened as realization dawned on her. “The gemstone in your ring. My brother, Ammas, sought such a mineral! You have it! Use it to destroy that mechanism.”
She gestured frantically toward the massive machine in the center of the room, a towering construct of intertwined silver cables and crystalline Platonic forms, pulsing with a dim blue light.
“The Meduson’s immortality and their technology are linked to that device,” Nivta urgently explained. “If you destroy it, the tower will collapse, and the Meduson will die.”
Thomas, breathless and sweating, raced to the crystal mechanism, striking down several Meduson that tried to intercept him. He slammed his fist into the machine. The ruby’s scarlet light surged, flowing into the alien matter. A spiderweb of glowing fissures spread through the device with amazing rapidity. The strange engine erupted in a flare of white fire, writhing flames bursting from the cracks.
Thomas stumbled back from the ruined machine. The tower shuddered as fissures from the damaged device began to propagate through it, spreading out like ripples across a pond. Walls vibrated, fractured, and then collapsed inward, a massive avalanche of sundered matter. Thomas grabbed Nivta’s hand, pulling her toward the exit. The laboratory fell apart around them; the floor heaved as the ceiling caved. A geyser of amber energy burst up from below. Meduson fell to the shattered floor, convulsing and disintegrating, struck down by the spreading disruption.
Nivta and Thomas raced through the crumbling tower, dodging falling debris and escaping through a collapsed archway that opened onto the overgrown plaza. Both sprinted away from destruction, their hearts pounding, arms and legs pumping furiously until they could run no more.
Thomas leaned against a tree, gasping as he watched the distant tower collapse inward on itself, clouds of vapor billowing tremendously as it completely disintegrated.
“It’s over,” said Nivta quietly. “The Meduson have been destroyed, and my people avenged. But it is a bitter victory; I am alone, the last of my kind, and nothing can restore the dead to life.”
Thomas’s heart went out to the girl. “It doesn’t have to be this way,” he said as he removed his shirt and handed it to her. “Come back to Earth with me. You can pass for one of my people. My uncle and I will help you start a new life on a new world.”
Nivta smiled as she gratefully donned the offered garment. “Thank you. I have no desire to be alone.”
They reached the ship without incident, Thomas explaining how his uncle had discovered the tomb of Ammas, her brother, and how the knowledge he left behind had enabled the construction of the vessel. The craft’s hatch opened at his touch, and they stepped inside. Both paused, glancing back for a moment at the forlorn ruins, the silent requiem for a dead civilization.
Thomas closed the hatch and pushed the button. The ship vibrated slightly as silvery light enveloped it, drawing the craft into the golden void. The world outside dissolved into an aureate expanse; then the light receded, revealing the familiar stone walls of Yew Manor’s laboratory. The vessel was once again in normal space. Its hatch swung open to reveal Albert, his eyes filled with awe and relief, sitting at the workbench.
Thomas stepped out of the ship, the ruby ring still gleaming, its scarlet light dimming now that the alien energy of the strange dimension had been left behind. Albert rushed toward him and embraced his nephew. Then his eyes widened as he saw Nivta exit the vessel.
“My word,” Albert stammered, “who is the young lady?”
Thomas introduced Albert to the girl, sharing his translator with the older man so that Albert could communicate. Then, all three walked to the comfort of the manor, and there he and Nivta fully recounted their amazing adventure. “The Meduson were destroyed.” Thomas concluded. “The tower fell. Nivta—”
“—the last of her people,” Albert finished, his expression turning solemn as he looked at the girl sitting on the leather lounge beside Thomas. “Don’t worry, my dear,” he said. “Thomas and I will help you build a new life here on Earth.”
“You are both very kind, and I am extremely grateful.” she sincerely replied. Then, with a trace of sadness: “When the time is right, I would like to visit my brother’s tomb and see his body, which Thomas has told me is on display at the National Museum of Anthropology in Mexico.”
**********
Eighteen months had passed. Nivta had mastered English with amazing rapidity and adjusted to her new life with remarkable ease. The ship remained hidden. Nivta was working with Albert, sharing her advanced scientific knowledge. Those aspects that couldn’t be weaponized would be released to the public in the form of new inventions, the patents for which would serve as income.
There were also more significant changes. In Thomas’s London apartment, he and Nivta looked down with joy at Lidina, their baby daughter, sleeping peacefully. Over time, both had fallen in love as they got to know each other, and their passion culminated in a child that sprang from their passionate desire.
Thomas slid his arms around Nivta and kissed her on the neck. “She has your eyes,” he said.
Nivta smiled. “She has a part of me, and so my people will live on in our daughter. We are not wholly dead. Your love and our child are a great comfort to me, Thomas.
“When Lidina is older, we can have more children if you like,” he said.
“I would like that very much,” she replied.
Thomas smiled, knowing the future was going to be much brighter than the past.
The End