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The Black Tower: The Complete Series Page 15
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“I doubt it shall go unnoticed.”
Costa and Carmody came into the kitchen on their journey forward.
“Doctor Church, Doctor Banister,” said Costa. “Are you finding lots of goodies for us?”
“Ah, Sergeant Costa! How very good of you to drop by.” Banister spoke through a broad smile as he closed another cabinet. “The cupboards aren’t totally bare.”
“We’ve already found enough to take some of the pressure off our current supplies,” said Church. “But we are likely to continue on short rations, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, who knows what the next cabinet may give us?”
“Exactly so,” said Banister.
“Wow, cool stove,” said Carmody. It was a wide cast iron wood stove with an overhead hood and vent.
“Perhaps I’ll fix us up something later, eh Private?” said Banister.
“Hey, that’d be great, sir.”
“Onward and forward, Private,” Costa said to Carmody. She looked a final time to the two doctors. “Steak and eggs for me.”
“I’ll see what we can do, Sara,” said Banister. He and Church watched Costa and Carmody continue forward and through the door.
“What are you staring at?” asked Church, once they were alone.
“A lovely girl. And very kind.”
“Of late, I would argue that her most attractive feature is more military in nature.”
“Don’t give me that, Nate,” grumbled Banister. “You have as big a childish crush on her as I do.”
“What are you talking about, you old fart? That, sir, is forty years out of the gate.”
“Smart, attractive, and can take on all manner of monsters?” Banister let out a very long, very sad sigh.
§
Quinn walked the length of the baggage car, passing crates and boxes, some sitting loose on the floor, others strapped to either wall. One set of metal shelves was filled with smaller packages that were held in place with stretched netting.
He glanced briefly at several of the labels on the boxes. Most were stamped with individual alphanumeric identification codes and what appeared to be the same three character destination code, though the letters weren’t anything he recognized.
The baggage car showed a lot of promise. He would send a team in to do a complete inventory.
The next car down train was the caboose. There were two desks, a padded bench along one wall, and a shelf and locker on another. A cold potbellied stove stood in one corner, a bamboo basket of kindling on the floor beside it.
A cozy little guard shack on wheels.
He would check the desk drawers and locker on his way back. Now though, he was curious as to what things looked like beyond the next door.
He found Peter Asher standing on the rear platform. The professor was standing at the rail, looking out at the tracks disappearing into the void behind them. Quinn stood beside him.
“Professor,” he said.
“Hello, Lieutenant.” Asher kept his attention outward.
“This is a new one, eh?”
“It certainly is,” said Asher. “I’m not sure what to make of it.”
Quinn placed his hands on the handrail and leaned forward. He looked down at the tracks, watched them rush from below the train and then away, vanishing into the black only a few yards behind them. He could feel the rumbling of the wheels through his feet, through his bones, the sound pushing in on him from every direction, wrapping itself around him like a fuzzy cocoon.
§
Costa and Carmody stepped out onto the open platform at the front of the car. Ahead of them was the tender car, gently rocking from side to side. The absolute blackness of this world pushed in on them from either side and down from above. The sound of the engine, just beyond the tender car, had a lost, lonely, haunted quality.
The coupling between cars afforded some footing for crossing over, but the span was wide enough that the slightest misstep could send them to the tracks below and under the train.
Carmody remained on the platform side of the rail as Costa climbed over. Carmody pressed firmly against the rail and held tight to Costa’s left hand as Costa eased herself down onto the coupling. She would have to let go of Carmody in order to lean forward enough to take hold of the ladder running up the rear of the tender car ahead of her.
She paused and checked her balance, extended her right arm out as far as she could reach, fingers outstretched. At some unspoken signal, she let go of Carmody’s hand, simultaneously leaned forward and grasped the ladder.
She pulled herself forward and up fully onto the ladder. She took a moment to reposition herself. Once she felt secure, she adjusted her footing, placing one foot on one step of the ladder, her other onto the step above. Holding on tight then with her left hand, she leaned back out over the expanse between cars, her right arm outstretched.
Carmody had climbed over the platform railing and was waiting. She stepped out into space as she reached for Costa’s offered hand, one foot dropping down onto the coupling below. She started to swing out dangerously to one side before Costa managed to pull her back in.
She spent very little time on the coupling before lunging forward and grasping the metal steps of the ladder.
With Carmody was safely across, Costa climbed the ladder to the top of the tender car. It was filled with cut and dried wood ready for the steam engine’s furnace.
Costa climbed onto the wood, Carmody following behind her. They scampered forward on hands and knees, worked their way up to the front of the tender car.
Ahead of them was the engine. Looking down into the open compartment, they could see the engineer, busily going about his business. He wore the coveralls and cap that they would expect an engineer to wear. He turned slowly about and looked up at them…
A distorted, demon-like face, a fiery gleeful grin, both threatening and glowing with demented joy…
Episode Five / Chapter Two
Corporal Johansen handed the radio headset to Dr. Lake as General Wong and Captain Adamson moved off and settled in at the main table in the middle of the command center.
Dr. Lake held the headset to his ear and spoke into the mouthpiece. “Doctor Church? Lake here. Over.”
Johansen slid his chair back and stood up, left the doctor to his conversation with Church.
“Yes… yes. I understand,” said Lake, glancing first to the receding figure of Johansen, briefly then to the general and the captain. He turned and focused his attention on the radio set as he spoke. “There’s not much time remaining to us, Doctor. We’ll have to make this fast. Over.”
Back at the table, the general and Captain Adamson were discussing the news regarding this latest floor.
It was a black void… nothing but the dark, an old train, and the set of tracks on which it traveled.
And a demon engineer…
“And it’s the thirteenth floor, to boot,” said Adamson. “Not that I’ve ever put stock in such things.”
“Nor I, but the Adversary has apparently attached significance to it.”
“Some sort of supernatural threat this time?”
“A demon engineer driving an old train across a black void? Yes, Captain, I would say supernatural was a safe bet.”
Over at the radio, Dr. Lake tossed the headset down in disgust. Time had expired. The communications window had closed.
He turned and looked sharply at the two sitting at the table.
“General Wong! I must insist that I be allowed to speak with the team first at the next window. It is impossible to get a complete report in the time allowed as it is, much less respond with recommendations to their observations. But to be left with only the last remaining seconds at each communication is completely unacceptable.”
“Of course, Doctor.” General Wong turned to Johansen. “Corporal… at the next communication, excepting immediate military need, please ask Lieutenant Quinn to put Doctor Church on the line.”
“Yes, sir,” said Johansen.
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br /> “Thank you,” said Lake.
Wong gave Dr. Lake a slow nod, then slid about in his chair and leaned forward. He placed his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together.
“It is long past time to bring medical in on this, Captain,” he said to Adamson. “I would like you to provide them with what we have on Doctor Bautista’s condition.”
“They’ll have to be brought up to speed on the mission, General.”
“That’s fine. It’s about time we expand the circle. I’d feel a whole lot better with some expertise looking over their shoulders. That much, at least, we can do from here.”
“Of course, sir.” Adamson was confident that the team could handle the majority of whatever medical issues might come up. Each military member had undergone a crash course in field medic training, and from their files he knew that the scientific members of the team all had varying levels of first aid training as well.
As such, it had been decided not to include a dedicated, full time medic on the team. It was felt at the time that should an emergency warrant it, the team could be advised from the command center.
But a lot had changed since those first days on the first floor, and considering the present circumstances, Captain Adamson was inclined to agree that it would be best to have medical expertise much closer to hand.
“I’ll set up a briefing with Major Connelly,” he said.
§
Church handed the receiver back to Ramos. “Oh, dear,” he said calmly. “I expect Lake is giving the general an earful about now.”
Ramos put the receiver back into its cradle. “I expect so, Doctor.”
The dining car was empty but for the two of them. Quinn had left as soon as he had provided his report to General Wong.
Church had only begun his own report to Lake when the communication window had closed, had still been detailing their findings of the last floor.
He did find value in providing this information. Doctor Lake was compiling an extensive dataset, and with each new floor came another layer of data elements from which they might be able to extrapolate what may lie ahead.
While it was true that each floor they entered, each world they found themselves in, was unique unto itself, there were universal laws being followed. And there were similarities in the clues that existed on each floor. As had been suggested on several occasions, there were rules to this game, and even the Adversary appeared to be following them.
For the moment, Doctor Lake would have to work with what Lieutenant Quinn had provided in his final report of the last floor and what little they had so far regarding this floor.
Church would have much more data for Lake by the next communication window.
The door at the far end of the dining car opened and Susan came in, stepping delicately, Lisa Powell behind her, ready at her elbow.
“Susan,” Church called out. “Up and about, I see.”
“I needed a change of scenery, Doctor.” Susan walked past a number of tables, settled into the one opposite Ramos and his radio equipment. She looked up at Lisa. “Stop mothering me. Please, go for a walk or something.”
“All right,” said Lisa. “I suppose I should see what kind of trouble Doctor Owen is getting into.”
“Good idea,” said Susan. She felt bad then and reached out, gave her a gentle pat on the arm. Lisa accepted the silent apology with a comforting smile, continued forward and through the door as Church settled into the seat opposite Susan.
“You are looking much better, my dear,” said Church.
“Thank you.” Susan looked out the window. She frowned and sighed. “No getting away from that.”
“I’m sorry, I —ah, yes… the view.” Church studied the scene beyond the glass. “We have yet to determine just what it is. Our working supposition is that it is… nothing.”
“And just how does one leave, depart, exit… nothing?”
“For that matter, how can one travel within… through… nothing?” Church shook his head. “We don’t even have the terminology to describe our circumstance.”
Susan started to laugh at that, but a streak of pain in her tightly bound chest cut it short.
“Susan?” A worried look from Church, it eased when Susan managed a smile. “I’ll try not to be so amusing,” he said.
“Our circumstance?” Susan’s smile broadened. “Our most recent circumstance… we were attacked by bizarre creatures with numerous arms for legs, or legs for arms, not sure which, that live on the face of a cliff two thousand feet high.”
“They were arms for legs, I think.” Church looked across the aisle to Ramos. “What do you think, corporal? Were those arms or legs?”
“Arms, I figure,” said Ramos. “That big fella gave Doctor Bautista one big time bear hug.”
“Could have been a leg lock,” said Susan.
“Guess so,” said Ramos. “My money is still on arms.”
“My money as well,” said Church.
Asher entered the dining car. Susan scooted over and he settled in beside her.
“How goes the search, Professor Asher?” asked Church.
“It goes.” He gave Susan a quick onceover. “You’re looking much better, Susan. How are you feeling?”
“I’m perfectly fine, Peter.”
Church leaned over the table. “She thinks we’re smothering her.”
“Tough,” Asher said dismissively. “Any word on our engineer?”
“He has made no overt threats, as of yet. Sergeant Costa is keeping an eye on him.” Church leaned back in his seat. “And how are things at the other end of the train?”
“There’s not much to it, really,” said Asher. “I think the lieutenant may turn the caboose into his private office. It’s not a bad setup.”
“If we’re all up here, he’s gonna get awful lonely,” said Church.
“That may be just the way he wants it.”
“I understand there’s a baggage car,” said Susan.
“We’ll start popping open crates soon, see what sort of presents Santa brung us.” He looked across at Church. “What about food?”
“Staples, mostly. Flour and such. Few other things. It’ll help.”
“I heard something about coffee.”
“Why, yes, Professor. I believe so.”
As if on cue, the forward door opened and Doctor Banister stepped through, coffee pot in hand. Private Carmody was directly behind him, holding before her a tray of white ceramic coffee cups and a second pot.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, we bring you the liquid of the gods,” said Banister.
“Oh, you sweet, sweet man,” said Asher. Ramos was also sliding out of his seat, eager to assist. A moment later, Owen and Lisa came in behind Banister and Carmody.
The dining car was suddenly the place to be.
§
Lt. Quinn sat at his desk, working on his drawings. The interior of the caboose was warm, a soothing heat coming from the potbellied stove in the corner.
He hadn’t really been cold, but he had known that it would add a sense of comfort to his environment. Right about now he could use whatever psychological healing he could get.
Dr. Owen had been right about one thing… they all needed some down time. A few hours of warm and fuzzy and he would think clearer, hopefully make better decisions.
Quinn set his pencil down. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. The heat pushing out from the cast iron of the stove reached him in a gentle wave, brushed across his face. He heard and felt the rumbling of the wheels on the tracks beneath the train, felt the slight swaying from side to side. He found himself sliding into a soothing peace. It felt good. It felt pleasant. Tension began to drain away. The dull headache he hadn’t realized was there began to fade.
He took in a long, deep breath, let it out easy as he opened his eyes. Yes, he could get used to this, if he let it.
But of course he knew that he wouldn’t.
Too bad, really.
St
ill leaning back in his chair, he stared at the drawings on the desk; diagrams of the train. One drawing had the cars lined up in order, each one titled. Other drawings detailed the individual cars, with each car’s content and items of interest listed, as he understood them at the moment.
They had already discovered some food, water, as well as a few items they would take with them once they moved on to the next floor. They had yet to do a search of the crates in the baggage car, but that would come soon. Quinn had hopes there. This was just the sort of scenario the Adversary would create to provide the team with the gear necessary to continue this crazy gauntlet. After lunch they would conduct a thorough and proper search, complete a proper inventory.
Quinn felt a slight shift in the movement of the train; a barely perceptible change in the weight of his body within the caboose. It felt as though the train was no longer traveling on a straight track that it had these past hours, that it was moving now on a very long, gentle curve.
He left the desk and walked over to the bench, sat and leaned close to the window.
He saw nothing at first. There was, as always, only the void. Doing his best to look directly up the line of cars, it was impossible to tell if they were in fact traveling on a curve. The train was too short; the curve, if there was one, was too slow.
He was about to slide back off the bench when he thought he saw something. He pressed his cheek against the glass.
Nothing…
Then, up ahead. What was that?
A dull glow… far in the distance…
Wait… how could there be distance in a void?
Okay, but they were traveling through a void, which was another impossibility, so…
If the train was in fact traveling on a track with a long, gentle curve, they could be heading right for that… whatever it was.
Something. There was something there… a very faint glow; fuzzy, indistinct, and they were heading right toward it.
§
Costa sat atop the tender car, calmly watching the demon engineer at work. For the most part it ignored her, only occasionally glancing up in her direction. When it did, it would smile its eerie mix of warmth and insanity, then return to its work.
Other than the first time the engineer retrieved wood from the tender car, which he did through one of several large open access panels set into the front of the car, Costa hadn’t felt seriously threatened. She was ever vigilant, ever expectant, but the sudden attack that she had been certain would come never came.