The Secret of Excalibur (27 page)

“Respectfully, Ma'am, Arthur, but if there are booby traps in the tunnel, you may not survive them.” Greg's still pushing his case.

So, Tober hasn't briefed Alpha about my force-field. And, of course, no one knows about Ruth's force-field but us two.

Ruth looks over at me. TAP –Should I tell them?-

*No, kid. You'll end up in a lab, being studied. You want that?*

-No!-

*Smart for a female.*

She swiftly kicks me. Tober and the Major jump, having no idea what's going on.

“It's okay, she gets this way sometimes,” I explain with a grin. “I'm sure you understand how women are?” She tries kicking me again, but I jerk my leg back.

“Uh, ahem, yes, quite, Arthur,” Tober says, glancing sideways at Ruth. She gives him the evil eye, and he shrinks into his chair.

I pat her head. “Down girl.”

She glowers at me. TAP-TAP- she goes.

*Oh no you don't,* I taunt. *You can't talk if I don't listen.*

Standing, staring daggers at me, she yells, “Fuck you, Mister.” Spinning around, she stamps off towards the trees. Along the beach men turn towards us, staring.

“Always has to have the last word,” I say loudly. No one laughs.

Tober leans forward, as if he's telling a secret. “Was that telepathy, Arthur?”

“Yes, Doc. But she's right. Just Ruth and I go in first. Then, your team, Major.”

They're starting to protest when a Sergeant rushes over, handing Greg a radio. “Sir, door team has reported in. They found a web of wires a few feet inside the tunnel entrance. The wires are so fine they're almost invisible, but they showed up on the scope. Electrified, sir.”

Greg's talking on the radio as I'm wishing Ruth would hurry and pee. I want to leave.

Greg lowers his radio. “Well, sir, looks as if none of us will be going. At least until we discover what the web is and how to disconnect it.”

“Order your men to get away from the opening,” I say, “far into the trees, Greg. Too many men have died already. I'll go in there myself.”

“And me,” Ruth pipes up behind me.

“Sir, we can't see the wires without the scope. I don't think going into the tunnel is wise.” His brows are creased with concern.

“Greg, anything your scope can see, I can see, and better. Now, get your men away from the opening.”

He starts to argue again, but Tober shakes NO. After a slight hesitation, the Major talks into his radio.

I gulp my coffee.
Whew. It's really loaded.
Ruth sort of accidentally spills her tea, then stares at the wet spot as if she expects it to eat into the fire-pit rock.

“Greg, we're going to teleport over there now. Make sure everyone's away, back to the trees.” He gives a curt nod.

Closing her eyes, Ruth tightly clasps my hand. I concentrate on the hollow rock and the small clearing, hoping we won't land in a tree, and BLIP!
Perfect, right next to the rock.

“Ruth, fetch the scope from whoever has it.”

She heads to where a group of men are standing, with mouths hanging open. I suppose the first time you see someone pop out of thin air would be a shock. A man hands her what resembles a small CRT, with a coiled wire running from it, and a tube at the end of the wire. She gracefully thanks him and glides back. He stands frozen, mouth still agape.

I mentally probe the entryway, and feel the electric web, but the strands aren't wires. Threads, like very fine silk, almost like a giant spider web, all the way across the tunnel. Definitely made from a fabric I've never seen. The web is held to the walls by an unknown adhesive.

I can't locate any power source, yet, I feel the electrical power in the web. I mentally probe farther into the tunnel. There, behind it, another web. Then another. In fact, there are four webs. The first two webs are three feet apart, then the third web is only two and a half feet back, and the last web is only fourteen inches from the third web. And each web is smaller in circumference than the one in front of it.

Ruth is watching the scope, which shows blue and white colors. I'm seeing silver and brown. We're looking at a high intensity electrical charge, hanging there in the webs.
Why doesn't the electrical charge jump to the rock wall?

“I'm going to teleport behind the webs, kid. Go back to the tree line and wait.”

“But Arthur…,” she protests with a frown.

“No buts, go.” I focus and BLIP! I appear five feet behind the last, and smallest of the webs.

Standing still, heart pounding in my ears, I take shallow breaths. Even to breathe makes the strands vibrate. I'm scared again; sweat starting to bead on my forehead. Whatever this contraption is came from another world. There's every reason to think the web can destroy me, force-field or not.

Tiny grains of sand are hopping below the bottom strands. The air is so arid in here my nose and throat dry up. Even the sweat on my forehead evaporates.
Of course, super static electricity.
The webs are arranged, like a transformer, to focus the electrical power outward.

I slowly step closer to the last web. In my rubber-soled tennis shoes, I should be safe. Drawing within two feet of the web, I notice the grains of sand begin jumping my way. Whoever designed this contraption isn't going to be foiled by a cheap pair of rubber-soled shoes. The web starts bowing towards me, vibrating. I stop midstep, holding my breath. If I'd been on the other side, where the charge is amplified, I undoubtedly would've discovered how well my force-field protected me against the charge. I quickly step back, and the web tightens again.

Whatever material the web is composed of, it collects, gathers, or generates static electricity, then stores the static electricity, as it amplifies it. And it doesn't release it, not even to the grounded walls, half an inch away. But if I get close enough, or touch the web, the effect would be like touching a million volt power line. Hell, I can feel the electricity flowing. There's enough juice in the web to power a whole house.
Imagine that, electricity from a web of threads.
I focus on the clearing, and BLIP!

“Okay, Alpha, find me a long tree branch,” I order as Ruth sprints to me. They begin searching around.

I explain the webs to Ruth, and my theory about the static charge. A captain comes over carrying a seven-foot long, dead branch.

“Everyone, step back again, and cover your eyes. There could be a pretty bright flash.” I push Ruth at the captain, and he leads her away with him.

Aiming for the top of the webs, wanting to diffuse all four of them, I javelin toss the branch. A loud KASASASAAPP blast pushes me back a few steps. Even with my eyes closed, I still saw the bright flash. Now, that's all I can see, and my eyes are still closed.

Hearing Ruth running towards me, I yell, “Stay back. Someone stick a bayonet in the ground over here, but keep away from me.”

The flash effects on my eyeballs are fading, but I still see it. And feel it. The static electricity's running all over me, my hairs snapping and crackling. My rubber-soled shoes kept me from being fried.
Even at what? Ten feet or so? Amazing.

I can barely see the bayonet through the bright flashbulb effects behind my eyes as I stumble to it. The charge is running all over me as I bend and clasp the handle. KACACRACLLEPOP! Again, I see the white, bright blast through closed eyes. I straighten, holding the handle, which is burned off right at the blade.

“Sir, our scope showed a charge of more than six hundred thousand volts,” the Captain informs me. “It would've electrocuted us all, if we'd been standing too close. Mother of God.”

I smile at Ruth. “Ahh. That was better than sex, kid.”

Ruth smirks at me and whispers, “And you're a bloody liar, sir.” She reaches out, probably to pat my arm, and KAZZAPT. She leaps backwards, mouth open in pain.

“I saved that just for you, ma'am,” I tease, as she shakes her hand.

She glares at me, saying, “Asshole. That hurt.” No whispering this time.

Staying a good six feet away from me, the Captain asks, “How do the webs work?”

“I don't know,” I tell him, “but I guarantee they do. Right, kid?”

TAP –Fuck you,- then aloud she says, “Yes, for damn sure, they work.”

Leaning for the burned off blade buried in the ground, as I touch it, the blade gives off a few snaps, and tiny sizzles.

Ruth asks me, “Damn, doesn't the electrical charge dissipate? Uh, did you see anything in the tunnel?”

“No, kid. All I could feel was an impression of a large room and running water. Sorry.”

What I don't mention was the urge, like a pulling at me, to leave the webs and go on alone. The urge was very strong, but there's no way I'm going to do that. I sit on the ground, waiting for the flashes to clear from my retinas.

“Arthur, do you think they knew the webs would kill us?” Ruth asks, biting her lower lip.

“I don't think they cared, kid. The webs were probably set so they could pack up and not have to guard the entryway. If we'd hit the webs before they left, we wouldn't have tried again, at least not before daylight, and they would've been long gone by then anyway.”

“I could tell you were afraid of them. Well, maybe just leery. The only other time I've seen you look afraid, was at the Lodge, when you were standing at the railing. Do you think there are any more webs?” She pats my hand.

“Grab two of those flashlights and let's go find out. I think I can see well enough now.” I pat her hand back, then help her up.

Either Greg told his men to stay in the trees, no matter what happened, or our appearing out of thin air, or me popping in-and-out, plus the blast from the webs might've caused them to be cautious. None of the men will move far from a tree they can hide behind. Only the Captain's out in the open with us, and I can tell he doesn't want to be, he keeps nervously eyeing the tunnel entrance.

“Sir, Major Breckenridge and Dr. Tober are on their way. Don't you think you should wait for them?”

“No, Captain. We're going in alone. Alpha Team stays out here until we come get you.”

“Sir, I think you should at least take a radio with you.”

“Good thinking, Captain, except the radio won't work under tons of iron ores, too much magnetism. No, you wait there, in the trees.”

He salutes as he's backing up, saying somewhat loudly, “Yes, sir.”

I shine one of the flashlights into the tunnel. Tiny sparks along the walls.
Amazing.
The broken webs hang loosely along the walls, still collecting and discharging the static charges. Tober will have a ball with this new technology, if he doesn't fry himself first.

“Uh, kid, don't touch those wires or get too close,” I warn, suddenly remembering her professional curiosity.

“Don't worry, I won't,” Ruth assures me, standing as far from them as possible, which means, right against the middle of my back.

The beams from our flashlights end about fifteen feet into the tunnel, where the tunnel curves, then curves back. More sparks jumping around down there makes us freeze. Another full set of four webs, but lying against the walls, not stretched across.

“Why didn't they hook these webs up?” Ruth asks. “Too much in a hurry, maybe?”

I shrug. There's no way we can second-guess how an alien being would think. As we creep past them, each mass of hanging webs bow out towards us from the wall, then falls back with little snaps and sparks.

“Some toy, huh, kid?” I ask, but she doesn't answer. Ruth is glued to the spot, staring straight ahead. Farther down the left side of the wall hangs a shiny box.

I mentally probe the box. It's two feet square and composed of metal or plastic material I've never encountered before. Inside the box is a mass of tiny golden lines, inlaid on plastic-looking material, and a couple rows of what looks like crystals down each side. For all the world, it reminds me of a printed circuit board, except for the crystal objects. The box seems to have nine circuits. I can't perceive anything that looks remotely dangerous in the box.
Would I know what dangerous is from these alien life-forms?
On the other side of the box the tunnel ends at a solid, black wall.

“Maybe it's a type of door control,” I suggest, striding to the box.

“Or a BOMB,” Ruth wails, gluing herself to my backside.

“That's it, kid, cheer me up.” As I reach to touch the box, she flinches and tries to become a part of my back, just sort of melts into me.

On the front panel of the box is a row of what resembles touch pad buttons. Nine of them and each has a symbol on it, except the last one. That button has several symbols on it, all running together.

“Close your eyes, kid.” I reach to touch the first button.

“Uh, Arthur, are you sure you should do that.” Her tiny voice is full of fear, and I can feel her trembling.

“No. Got a better idea?” I ask over my shoulder.

“No.” Then a small sigh, with more tightening of her hands around my body. “Okay, go ahead then.”

“Yeah, kid, how can I move with you wrapped around me like a straitjacket? Will you loosen your arms so I can at least move? Jeez, you're a walking pair of vise grips, kid, I swear.”

I touch the top button. Buzz. Snap. Bright, white light emitting from above our heads, almost like florescent, all the way back up the tunnel.

“You like that, kid?”

“What?” she asks, with her head pressed against my back, eyes tightly closed.

“Open your eyes dummy, and look.”

“Oooh.” She unglues herself from my backbone. “What did you do?” She looks around, then leans towards the panel.

“Just put my finger right there and pushed. Zap, let there be light.”

She studies the panel, brows furled in thought. “That looks like a P lying on its side. There's a pair of P's back-to-back, and the last one looks like a word.”

“That's some imagination you got there. Push one.”

“No.” She jumps behind me.

“Hey. Where's your professional curiosity at, kid? Get out here.”

“No. It took off with a UFO,” she mutters into my back.

“Then, why did you come in here with me, Ruth?” I ask, frustrated with her attitude.

“Bloody if I know, oh damn.” Leaning around me, she jabs a button, saying, “There,” then hurriedly retreats to the safety of my back.

All the button does is glow with a white light.

“Do another, kid,” I encourage her.

Peering around me, she tentatively jabs another.

Again, all it does is glow with a white light.

“Go on,” I tell her.

Taking a deep breath, she steps out from behind me. Jab, jab, jab, jab, jab.

I stop her before she jabs the last button. The whole row is glowing with white light, but the button with what Ruth said looks as though it has a word on it.

“Arthur, you push that one,” she squeaks, as she leaps behind me and again becomes a part of my spine.

I cautiously push it.

The button lights, nothing else. Then I feel her flinch in my backbone.

“What's that?” she asks in a small voice.

We faintly hear a humming and scraping.

“Oh, bloody hell, I told you it was going to explode.” She digs even deeper into my back.

The noise becomes louder and louder, and I can feel the scraping noise through the soles of my shoes, then a loud grating and a crunch. At each new sound, Ruth flinches deeper into my back.

“Damn, kid. Any more moves like that and you'll come out the front of me. Relax.”

Suddenly, there's a sound like you hear when you open a can of pop or beer. Passoopp!, and the whole wall begins to retract slowly to the left. Ruth's vise grip hands begin to dismantle my ribcage.

“Holy shit, kid, LET GO.” I jerk her around to the side, almost tearing her arms from her sockets. “Jeez. You're really something, Ruth. Damn.”

No tears, but her eyes are enormous, and she's shaking so hard that I can't stay angry with her. She's terrified. Her eyes are glued to the slowly moving wall, probably a door. The wall slides slowly left and disappears.

Beyond is pitch blackness. The lights from the tunnel cast in about eight feet and all we can see is a smooth rock floor. We hear water running and dripping, that makes you think of a large, hollow room. I aim my flashlight and step forward, Ruth right behind me.

Then in a flash, metal, and alive, and not moving.

I thought the mental probes were from the alien life-forms that took off on the UFOs. But they're gone now. I shine my flashlight around and stop, midstride. I hear Ruth take a sharp, short breath. Twenty feet from our left sits a large, pale, white shape. It's rounded and domed over the top. Our flashlight beams make little sparkles dance all over it.

“Holy shit, Ruth,” I say excitedly. “A UFO. We found one.” I stand there in awe at our discovery.

If she answered, I didn't hear her, because that probe came again. Metal, alive, and not moving.

I stride to what has to be a spaceship. On one side, the spaceship has several huge boulders lying on it, and there is…
HOLY SHIT. A body.
No three bodies. I'm thunderstruck. No way had I imagined we would find a spaceship, let alone alien life-forms, though they're dead.

The aliens are wearing suits like the divers wore that we'd seen on the VCR film. They'd been smashed by falling rocks, probably from our detonations at the grates.

I don't know if I heard it, or felt it, but I freeze again, with my heart in my throat. A sound, from out there in the vast darkness. Ruth is looking with a frightened expression, so I really had heard a noise. We hear it again, out there, to our right. I shine my flashlight slowly around, revealing water, a large black shape, then faintly, lighter writing.

“I'll be damned, Ruth. A submarine. A Russian fucking submarine.”

“The Ptomken,” she says quietly. “They were here. We were right, Arthur. Oh God, we were right.”

We continue shining our flashlights around, but the room is so vast, we don't see much in the beam of the lights. I let my light play over the three bodies again. One body holds a white tube in its gloved hand. I pry it loose, and as I do, a blazing, white light shoots out from it. A flashlight.

Ruth makes a gurgling sound, so I glance over at her. She looks very much like a person who just shit their pants.

I look back at the bodies. In their suits and helmets, all I can observe are the eyes, glazed and open, a very faded, pale blue. The shapes of their bodies appear human, but it's hard to tell in their suits. On the suits are the same emblem we'd seen on the ship, a blue leaf, much like a maple leaf.

Ruth is shining her flashlight around. “Look, over there.”

On the opposite side of the rock wall, where the door disappeared, is another box. On it are the same nine buttons and symbols. Ruth is studying the box, and she must've taken her brave pills, because before I can say anything, she quickly pushes the first eight buttons.

KAZAPP. CRACKLE. The whole cave lights up, brighter than daylight. We have to squint, it's that bright.

“Oh my God, Arthur.” She's frantically pointing, so I turn to where she's pointing. Not one Russian sub, but three of them, with a silver sword and an arm painted on the periscopes.

“Holy shit.” I'm speechless. We solved the mystery of the Lady of the Lake and Excalibur. I don't know how I feel. I guess a part of me always wanted them to be real.

Ruth crosses herself several times as she mumbles out, “Oh, my Lord God.” Funny, I never knew she was religious.

Something else catches my attention. Over on the other side of the natural small lake in the cave, rests another UFO. But this one's partly dismantled, pieces lying around it.

“Jesus Christ, Ruth,” I say in wonder. “What we found is the discovery of a lifetime. Just look at all this stuff. And look over there.”

Where I'm pointing at is quite a distance from us, and from where we're standing, we thought we were looking at a striped wall. As we approach the striped wall, I notice next to it a metal door.

About halfway across the large cave, Ruth stops; her hand up to her mouth. “Oh, my God.”

At this range, the striped wall can be seen for what it really is, bars set into the rock. Behind the bars lie bodies, hundreds of bodies, wearing Russian sailor uniforms. Most of them are lying like Ruth had been on the beach; curled up, hands over their ears, mouths wide open.
Were they screaming when they died?
A chill shoots up my spine, imagining their horrific deaths.

Wait. I didn't think I was mentally scanning any longer, but a part of me must still be, because I feel a flicker among the mass of bodies, like a living person would make. Hoping against the impossible, I concentrate more intently. If even one Russian sailor is alive, we'll be able to learn so much from him. They've been kept prisoners with these aliens, probably for years. They've seen the aliens up close, maybe even spoken with them. I have to try to save at least one.

As I scan the bodies, I feel it again. Alive. Metal. Not moving. And close now, very close.

There's the flicker of life again. No, there are several flickers. Way in the back, pressed below a pile of bodies, crowded together in the right, rear corner of the cell, three flickers of life. Approximately seventy bodies are piled on top of them.
Is that what saved them from the killing vibrations, a wall of sound-absorbing flesh?
I mentally tag the bodies, then, telekinetically, begin to drag them off the live sailors.

Ruth steps beside me, then kneels, studying the bodies nearest to and touching the bars. Their hands are charred black. Just as the webs, the bars hold a charge. I didn't even notice, being too involved.
What if I'd touched the bars?
I better start paying closer attention. This is not the time to get killed.

Ruth points to the wall a little distance from the bars, another silvery box, exactly like the other ones. I telekinetically short across the nine circuits and with a bright flash, sparks and pieces of burned metal or plastic goes flying. The huge bars begin to move to the left, retracting slowly into the wall, disappearing.

I scan the rest of the huge cell. Nothing. “Okay, kid, there are three Russians alive in that corner. Let's get them out and see if we can save them”

“Arthur, I don't know how you're doing it, but I'm able to hear and feel everything you are, plus your thoughts too.” She gives me a puzzled look. Glancing at the cage, she asks, “Please, you go in there, I don't want to, ahh, I mean, I'd rather not touch the bodies, okay?”

“Sure, kid. Can't blame you. Who wants to wade through bodies?” I pat her arm.

As I focus on the three live Russians in the corner, I carefully recheck the dead ones, no one else alive in the cell except these three. I place a small force-field around them. The small force-field is round, and as it solidifies, pieces of the jumble of bodies lying on the live ones, or in the field's way, are severed cleanly off. Suddenly, there's blood coating the small field, with pieces of arms, legs and heads inside the force-field with the lucky survivors. There isn't much I can do about that now.

Turning to Ruth, I pull her close, tucking her head into my shoulder. “I don't think you want to watch this part, kid.”

I'm glad there isn't anyone else here to watch. They would've called me cold-blooded or heartless for what I have to do next. The remaining bodies in the cell I'd already placed inside a larger force-field, and now I begin shrinking the field slowly towards the left wall. Watching hundreds of bodies roll, fall, slide, and seem to jump, would upset anyone.

The large field continues to shrink to the wall. Not wanting to damage, or disrespect the bodies any more than I already have, I slow the rate of shrinkage. Before long, there's a clear, if gore-smeared path, along the right wall, all the way back to the small, bloody ball in the corner. I drop the larger force-field. It makes a soft POO, and vanishes.

The small field is covered with dripping blood, but the three people inside are still alive. By pulling the field towards me, I move them from the corner, along with the severed body parts inside with them. A red smear spreads across the floor as the small field slides towards me. When it's in the open and just a few feet away, I release the field. It vanishes with a small POO. The live Russians fall into the severed body pieces trapped inside the field with them.

“Okay, kid, now this part will be a bit gory. I can't chance trying to zap the body parts away. I might accidentally zap a part of the body from one of the live ones. So, I'm afraid, we'll have to remove the severed body parts by hand. Are you up to this?”

Ruth looks up at me, gives me a small smile, kisses me lightly and says, “I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm being a silly female. I'm a doctor for bloody sake. I've seen body parts before. Yes, I'm ready. Let's do it.” She turns around.