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Authors: Robert Appleton

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Time Travel, #Lost civilization, #Atlantis

The Basingstoke Chronicles (19 page)

BOOK: The Basingstoke Chronicles
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It was dark inside. The space from top to bottom was no more than three feet, and were it
not for the seven-foot width of the craft, it might have made a rather choice coffin. I strained my
eyes. A few faint shapes sublimed from the shadow. What was I lying next to? I shuddered and
quickly froze. My stomach turned as I recoiled to the misty air. I took a deep breath before
plunging for one last look. No mistake! It was a skeleton lying in the bowels of the vessel.

Its form was unlike anything I had ever seen. With a skull at least two feet wide, shaped
like a large, finely-cut diamond, this creature was curiously proportioned. Its full height appeared
to stretch to the far end of the craft, making it about fifteen feet long. Though I could not discern
the details of its shape, I managed to pick out a few features.

Its arms numbered around twelve, all folded neatly across its midriff. Each was only two
thirds the length of an average human arm. It had an extremely slender frame. I guessed there was
room for at least two more figures side-by-side in the craft. Finally, I noticed the skull features. A
visor-like cavity across the forehead suggested either a single roving eye or a row of eyes.
Crescent slits suggested a unique hearing system. A single hole about the size of a halfpenny
appeared to be a rudimentary mouth. But for all I knew, I may have pegged the poor creature
upside down.

"Come on, Baz, what is it?" whispered Rodrigo.

"It's dead," I replied.

"What's dead?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Really? After everything we've been through, that's one helluva bold claim."

"Very well," I said, sitting up. "We've found the final resting place of a creature from
another world."

"I see," replied Rodrigo.

"Ha! I'm afraid you don't," mocked the old time-traveler. "Why, you two are fumbling
about like infants on exalted ground. Can you not put two and two together? Alpaca must surely
have told you something of the origins of Apterona."

"He did mention a spurt of human knowledge," I recalled.

"Nothing of the gods? The place where the gods fell? Why, that is what brought the
whole religion into being. The first Kamachej was light years ahead of all other humans of his
time. I have read every scrap of recorded history left to us--you saw the scrolls in my home--and
have concluded that the gods mentored him and his followers with extraordinary skill. Hmm...
You do not have time to explore the great scientific marvels of this lost civilization.

"What a pity! Know only that history may have started with the crashing of this craft,
and that two creatures emerged to change the face of the world forever. That is my conclusion.
Ha! Now, Einsteins, do you see? The legend of Atlantis is true, but Apterona also has truths of its
own. You are a privileged pair, for this knowledge shall now travel with you back to the
twentieth century."

"You're saying Atlantis was inspired by these extra-terrestrials?" I asked, barely
believing the words that escaped my lips.

"No, no! How wrong you are. I say nothing of the kind. My poor friend, history has
kindly said it for me!"

Chapter 18

Rodrigo and I listened carefully to the time-traveler's account of these visitors from
another world. Primitive man, it seems, transformed almost overnight into a being with
formidable problem-solving abilities. These students did not merely copy the visitors'
technological examples, they adapted them. Creativity was as much a feature of their
architectural growth as the otherworldly science. The seeds of discovery had been sown. From
just a few disparate tribes, a civilization grew to rival anything of classical Europe, with the
added flavor of this subtle alien guidance.

"The specific elements of their interference are difficult to discern," he explained. "As
with all writings, there is the element of exaggeration to overcome. The precognitive plants are
clearly alien, as are the refrigerating organisms found in the Kuti river, which are in fact the
residual cells from those plants. Hmm...the ziggurat design, also, was not possible with any of the
instruments known to man at that time. But the key motif throughout the history of this surge in
technology appears to be incredibly simple."

He drew a shape in the air with his webbed finger. I recognized it immediately as the
right-angled sequence I had seen many times during the adventure: on the pendant; as a strange
fissure under the sea in 1979; as the arrangement of houses lining the riverbank in Yaku; and
finally, on the scorched chiton wrapped around the dead body of Pacal Votan. The clues of this
alien legacy were everywhere, it seemed.

"And what happened to the aliens who survived the crash?" Rodrigo said.

"Ha! Well, the gods from the sky became the gods of Apterona! Nothing could be
simpler," came the reply.

"I gathered that much, but what happened when they died? I would expect finding out
one's gods are mortal isn't the best foundation for carrying on a religion afterwards."

The time-traveler seemed delighted by Rodrigo's observation. "A solid deduction,
Rodrigo of Cuba. You show promise. At least I can rest assured this great secret will be put to
good use. Hmm... You've also pinpointed the moment at which the rift occurred. Oh, the visitors
lived for hundreds of years, but when they suddenly vanished without trace, the Kamachej
wrested sole power for himself. Many Apteronians, feeling the gods had abandoned them, turned
their backs on religion altogether, and were forced to face the Tongue of Deceit, a device which
few have ever survived. Ha! I do believe that you and I are the only two to have beaten it in the
last five hundred years, Basingstoke."

I was surprised to hear this, and asked the old man how he cheated the device.

"Oh, I am unable to lie. Convenient, then, for honesty to be the only means of escape,"
he answered.

I felt this was a crafty reply, but decided to leave it at that. We would both just have to
imagine how one another really prevailed.

"Speaking of escape... Right, right! The cataclysm. Alpaca and the queen took you to the
precognitive plants, is that correct? Yes, yes, very good. They only grow in specific
conditions--at moist, high altitudes, and in one month of the year. I was there two days ago. The Kamachej
himself passed by that day; he told me my vision was invalid because I was not born here. Ha!
Ignore these superstitious natives. I am certain the hellfire will become reality any day now. The
prescience is only short term, very short term, so you two had better head for the time machine
right away. Where did you leave it?"

"A few hundred yards from the southwest coast, not far from two caves," I replied.

"Good man, good man; mine lies inside the right hand cave, nestled safely on the ocean
bed, in the easternmost corner. Right! That concludes our business, Einsteins. Let us make
tracks."

"Just one last thing," I interrupted. "The scorched body that started this whole mystery
was, I believe, Pacal Votan's...not yours."

"Hmm...that is possible," he answered. "Alpaca has been my student for many years, and
possesses a basic knowledge of the time machine. If he were pressed, I have no doubt he would
be able to operate it. Quite so, as even you managed to bring it this far. Ha! But Pacal has no such
desire. He will leave with the fleet as soon as it is prepared. Come, let us waste no more
time."

There we left the shrouded secrets of this smashed civilization behind. Rodrigo and I had
our instructions--to leave Atlantis immediately--so there was no more mystery to solve. Though
by what means and with whom we were to travel the two of us had yet to decide. By sea, with
our friends from Yaku? Or by time, alone?

The sun began to set as we galloped across the narrow plain.

We reached the time-traveler's hut, where he dismounted but told us not to do likewise.
Through the shadows of tall trees I noticed three stone shapes planted in the ground. I pointed
them out to Rodrigo. They were headstones. The old man's poor family lay at rest beneath the
soil just a few yards from his home.

"I can see why he doesn't want to leave," I whispered.

"I know," replied the Cuban, "he's not had an easy life, by the sounds of it. It's perfectly
understandable that he should want to spend his last days here--poor old bloke. It was his wish
after all."

The time-traveler emerged a few minutes later with a leather rucksack on his back. He
said nothing. Leading us out of the forest once again, this time walking beside his steed, he
seemed preoccupied. He kept swiveling east. As we reached the churned earth left by the
stampede, he stopped, crouched, and pressed his ear to the ground. Sure enough, there was
another tremor. This one quickly grew far more violent. The horses bucked, shook their harnesses
wildly. Were Rodrigo and I not competent riders, we would have joined the old man in the
dirt.

He sprung onto his horse and raced hell for leather toward Kuti river. Our own animals
followed before we could so much as flick a finger on the reins. The mercurial light of the magic
hour dimmed, dizzied the sky as we caught sight of the royal party. They were camped by the
river bank, near a cluster of trees. Pacal and K'achita were the first to greet us, the latter
embracing Rodrigo in tears.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Pacal asked me.

"Indeed, and much more besides. But there's no time to explain. We must be away. The
danger is nearer than we feared."

Chasca Quilla and her son rushed for the boats, which the soldiers had dragged into the
water for a quick departure. There were four of them--enough for us all, but only just!

Puma Pawq'ar quickly devised the order of boats and their occupants. Four guards apiece
filled the first and fourth vessels, to meet any danger as head and tail of the convoy. The Queen's
bodyguard accompanied her in the first boat, Puma, Rodrigo and K'achita were in the second,
while the remaining two guards were with Pacal, the time-traveler and myself in the third.

The first longboat eased from shore and waited. Whispering to them, stroking their
manes, the old man instructed his horses to return to their stables. They were extraordinarily well
trained. This time, however, they disobeyed. He repeated the gesture. Suddenly, the three of them
reared up in unison, backs to their master, facing upstream.

Everyone looked to see what was wrong. A deep groan filled the air, followed by
another. The river exploded. Huge grey lizards erupted onto the banks. I fell back in terror. Water
washed over me as I grabbed the nearest weapon, a paddle.

The enormous lizards sprang from the water with ravenous ferocity. Two of them raced
straight for the nearest horse and toppled it instantly. The poor beast struggled for its life, kicking
with tremendous force. One kick found a lizard's forehead, killing it on the spot. Another three
took its place, however, and in moments the horse was buried beneath an army of scrabbling
scales.

Seven guards rushed between us and the monsters. They had no time to prepare. The
lizards were upon them in seconds. Cries of "For the queen!" met an irrepressible surge of
clambering, thrashing hulks. For every lunge of a lizard, five spear tips struck its chest and neck.
Yet the weapons had no more effect than toothpicks prodding leather. One of the beasts bit into a
guard's stomach and tossed him about in its mouth. The brave man gouged at its eye with his
fingertips, screaming "Die, you bastard!" A bite from a second lizard ripped him in two.
Hiss!
The monsters fought over the remaining guards' trampled bodies, scrambling on
top of one another to get to the scraps.

The four guards from the first boat leapt ashore and retrieved Chasca Quilla. Puma and
Pacal heaved the second boat into the water, shouting, "In! Everyone in!"

As the others piled into the boat, I grabbed a paddle from the third vessel and
sidestepped away from the river. My friends screamed for me to join them, but I stood my
ground. My heart pounded. The lizards headed straight for me. Their acidic breaths scorched my
throat. Moving faster now, away from the shore, I gave my friends as much time as I could.
Every second was another paddle stroke to safety.

The leading dragon lunged, spat its horrid saliva onto my jeans. I jumped to one side and
then bolted. Not knowing where I was headed, only that it was as far from my friends as possible,
I covered the ground ahead with a desperate sprint. After a hundred yards or so, I slowed to steal
a glance at the river. Both vessels were at full speed and out of harm's way, but, every single
lizard now tracked
me
across the plain. There must have been fifty of them. They were
fast enough to keep pace with my quickest sprint.

I dared not look round, for I could hear the chaotic thumps and hisses a few yards
behind. A landslide rollicked about my heels. Whenever I put on an extra spurt of speed, the
noise seemed to increase. I reached the crest of an incline, where my chest and shoulders felt as
one solid mass of iron.

Starting downhill, I dove to stay ahead, but landed awkwardly. My shoulder and elbow
scraped across stone; the pain struck, flared like a match-head as I rolled. Dazed, facing ravening
lizards on all sides, I stumbled to my feet, as black shadow tore in front of me. It rose up like a
cavern of the night.

A mighty bear! With a roar, it swung its claw at the neck of a lunging lizard. Blood
sprayed everywhere as the lizard's head dropped to the ground. A chorus of roars rose all about
me. Immediately, a multitude of bears raced to form a barrier between the lizards and me.

The first bear reared up once more. It toppled backward with another scaly foe in its
clutches. After struggling upright, the bear unleashed a devastating swipe to the lizard's
underbelly. It then turned to face me.

"Darkly!"

The barrage of growls sparked a tremendous battle. Each lizard hurled itself at the bears,
open-mouthed, aiming for a decisive bite. The bears fended them off with claws and arms and
sheer, brute power. Darkly tore himself free. With a twitch of his snout, he turned from the chaos
and ran to my side.

BOOK: The Basingstoke Chronicles
4.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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