The Lost Level, page 18
Of course, the craft in front of me wasn’t the Nazi Bell. That had been described as being nine feet wide and fifteen feet tall and distinctly bell–shaped (thus the name). The thing in the gulch looked like a traditional flying saucer, albeit smaller than I would have expected. Its only similarities to the Bell’s descriptions were, as far as I could tell, the strange, heavy metal it was constructed from and the Nazi swastikas proudly emblazoned across its silver surface.
Insuring that Bloop was okay for the moment, I walked over to the saucer and began to examine it. Exposed to the eternal sunlight as it was, the hull should have been hot to the touch, but when I brushed my fingertips against it, the surface was cool. That perplexed me. Even stranger, the metal seemed to be almost frictionless. I placed my palm against it and felt a slight vibration from somewhere inside the craft. No sound accompanied it, but I definitely felt the disturbance. I saw no recognizable power source, but I wondered if the vehicle could still be functional, and if so, what lay inside?
I strolled around the saucer, running my hand along the surface and marveling over the strange sensations the weird metal caused. The vibrating sensation continued in steady, rhythmic pulses. I was so entranced that I didn’t hear Kasheena return until she called my name.
“Aaron? I have more water.”
“See if you can get Bloop to drink some. I’ll be over in a minute.”
“You should come away from there. I do not like that thing.”
I turned to face her. “Why not?”
“I do not know. It just feels…wrong. Perhaps it is cursed.”
“Well, the people who manufactured it were certainly a curse.”
“Is that their symbol?”
“The swastika?” I gestured at one with my finger, accidentally touching it, and then, before I could continue, there was a soft hiss of pressurized air escaping, and a hatch opened on the side of the craft. I caught a faint whiff of something foul. Wincing, I backed away from the door.
Brandishing her sword, Kasheena moved to stand beside me.
“You see?” she whispered. “It responded to what you said of its creators. I told you it was cursed.”
“I don’t think so. More likely there was some kind of hidden mechanism beneath the swastika.”
“We should leave here at once. Leave this place and never return. I will warn my people about it when we arrive.”
I glanced back at Bloop, then returned my attention to the saucer.
“We could shelter inside,” I said. “Get Bloop out of the sun, and give us both a chance to rest. I mean, let’s be honest here, Kasheena. We need to rest, after all we’ve been through. One sleep, and then we won’t stop again until we reach your village.”
“And if the creators of that transport attack?”
“If there was something inside that was going to attack us, I think it would have done so already when I opened the door.”
“Perhaps they are out seeking food and water, or maybe they are waiting inside to surprise us.”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
“You are going inside?” Kasheena asked.
I nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”
“I do not worry, Aaron. I am coming with you.”
“What about Bloop? One of us should stay here and guard him.”
“Then I will stand in the entrance. That way, I can protect you both.”
“Fair enough.”
We approached the open hatch with trepidation. I stepped inside, and the stench I’d smelled before grew stronger. It was definitely decay, but muted somehow, as if nothing more than an echo. The craft’s interior was dark, but as soon as I moved, a row of red lights flickered to life across the floor and ceiling. I waited a moment for my eyes to adjust to the illumination, and then crept forward, while Kasheena took position in the doorway. She looked imposing, standing there, but I saw the uncertainty and fear in her eyes.
The ship’s interior was composed of one large cabin. The inner walls were lined with banks of controls and equipment, none of which appeared to be functioning. In the center of the room were four seats, similar to those found in the cockpit of an aircraft. They were faced back to back. Strapped into those chairs were four mummified Nazi pilots. The desiccated corpses still wore their uniforms. Their skin was like leather, drawn tight over their skeletons and cracked in places, showing yellowish–white bones that gleamed dully in the dim light. The odor I’d noticed before was obviously coming from them, but I noticed another smell now—something dry and metallic, almost alkaline.
I was just about to approach the corpses, when I noticed something scattered all over the floor and console on the far side of the saucer—a fine, red powder that I had at first mistaken for dust, given that it was the same color as the utility lighting. I scanned the floor, noticing some shards of broken glass. Then I caught sight of a shattered, tube–like scientific flask of some kind, sticking up out of the floor, surrounded by what appeared to be melted lead. The symbol on the tube was just as instantly recognizable as the swastikas on the exterior of the craft, and my eyes widened in fear. It was the international symbol for radioactive material.
Holding my breath, I turned tail and ran, nearly knocking Kasheena over as I plunged outside. My heart pounded, and my vision blurred as I stumbled toward the Nazi insignia on the exterior hull. I slammed my palm against it, and the hatch whispered shut behind us, sealing the craft once again. Only then did I exhale.
“Aaron, what is wrong? What did you see?”
“Water,” I gasped. “I need water, quickly. Where’s the spring you found?”
“It is just over that hill, through the grass. But why—”
“There’s no time to explain. Just show me, please!”
She reached for my hand, but I jerked it away.
“No, don’t touch me, Kasheena! Stay away. Don’t get it on you.”
“Aaron…?”
“Kasheena, there was something inside the flying saucer. Something that is very poisonous. I don’t know if I got any on me or not, but just in case I was exposed, I need to wash immediately. You can’t touch me until I do. If I was exposed, you could be in terrible danger. Remember the nuclear material I was worried about when the robot in the canyon was destroyed?”
“Yes.”
“We may have a similar situation. Now, please, show me where the spring was.”
Nodding, she led me up the hillside, pushing through the grass with her sword. I barely noticed. I’d forgotten all about the Anunnaki and the crashed Nazi disc, and even the octophant. My panicked thoughts were consumed instead with red mercury.
Red mercury was supposedly nothing more than a scientific hoax—a fiction created on the international black market among arms and weapons dealers to con unsuspecting would–be terrorists and despots. It was supposedly a poisonous, odorless, tasteless scarlet powder containing red mercuric iodide. Despite its dubious origins, some investigators believed that the German scientists had actually used such a compound during their development of the Bell. They had called it Xerum 525 and stored the red mercury in a tall, glass thermos flask encased in lead. Accidental exposure to Xerum 525 had supposedly led to the deaths of several important scientists due to its highly radioactive properties.
If the Nazis had developed the Bell (and given that I’d just been confronted with proof that—at the very least—they’d invented a flying saucer), then it stood to reason that the reports of Xerum 525 were also true. It was therefore likely that they had used red mercury to power this vehicle, just as they had the Bell. That would explain the radiation symbol, the broken flask, and the remarkable similarity between the red dust I’d seen and the descriptions of red mercury.
Which meant that there was a chance I had just exposed myself, and Kasheena, to radiation poisoning.
“I’m sorry,” I panted as we neared the spring. “I am so sorry, Kasheena.”
“Aaron, I do not understand what is happening.”
“Hang on. Just let me get clean. You stay here. Keep back. I don’t want to contaminate you.”
The spring was about knee–high on me, and the bottom was covered with soft, thick mud. I jumped in with my clothes on and frantically splashed myself. Then, I stripped off my boots, socks, and my tattered jeans and let them soak, while splashing water all over me some more. I spotted some moss growing on the bank and used it to scrub my skin thoroughly. The mud sucked at my bare feet, making sloshing sounds as I moved. I bent down, grabbed handfuls of it, and used that to scrub myself, as well. Then I rinsed it off, hoping the mud would carry any remaining dust away with it.
Looking back on that moment now, as I sit here in this abandoned school bus, writing this memoir in a child’s spiral–bound notebook, it’s difficult to fully remember the terror I’d felt at the time. I’d been certain of my exposure, and for a long time after had expected to begin suffering from the effects of radiation sickness or cancer. Of course, neither of those things ever happened, and here I am, years later, still alive and kicking. I’ve suffered during my time in the Lost Level. I’ve had my share of heartaches and losses, and of injuries and illnesses. But my exposure that day to the red mercury inside the Nazi craft left no permanent scars.
Other things on that journey did, however, and I hesitate to write about them.
I guess I’ll see when I come to them. That will be soon. But it depends on how much room is left in this notebook. I’ve filled more than half the pages already, and I don’t know that I’ll have room to recount them all. Also, I don’t know if my heart can take retelling them all at once.
When I was satisfied I’d decontaminated myself as much as possible, I had Kasheena do the same, out of an abundance of caution. She stripped out of her loincloth and bathed thoroughly. Only then did we return to Bloop, carrying our wet clothes in hand. While Kasheena tended to him, I made sure the saucer was sealed tight. My thoughts returned to the cowboy we’d met and his tale of the zombie virus. I’d taken steps to make sure the infection wouldn’t spread to the Lost Level, but I was at a loss as to how to achieve the same in the case of the radiation. The only thing I could think of was to bury the saucer beneath the ground, but I lacked the tools and manpower to do that, and Bloop was still my primary concern. Still, it bothered me that someone—or something—else could wander along and possibly expose themselves, and our environment, to such a hazard.
I don’t know how long we waited, but eventually, Bloop regained consciousness. It was clear that he was weak and confused, but he seemed in good spirits nevertheless. We gave him sips of water from the gourd and checked the dressing on his wound. I considered cutting off some more of my pants to fashion more bandages, but hesitated due to their possible radioactive exposure. Eventually, I relented, deciding that while I wasn’t certain about the radiation, I was positive I didn’t want infection cutting our friend down, not after all he’d done for us and everything he’d suffered through. When I was done, my jeans had been turned into a pair of cut–off shorts.
Unfortunately, it appeared that infection was already wearing Bloop down. His skin was hot to the touch, and his fur was matted with sweat and oil. The skin around the leg was swollen and taught like a sausage casing, and he howled with pain anytime we touched it.
“We must reach Shameal,” Kasheena said. “Only he can help Bloop now.”
Nodding in agreement, I helped Bloop to his feet. “Come on, buddy. Let’s see if you can walk.”
He seemed to understand my intentions. Wincing, he rose to his full height and stood teetering while I helped support him. When he took an experimental step forward on his injured leg, he yelped in anguish and nearly fell over.
“We’ll have to help him,” I said.
Kasheena and I got on either side of Bloop and put our arms around his waist. Then, he put his arms around our shoulders. With our free hands, we each carried a sword. Bloop clutched his with his prehensile tail, letting the weapon trail along behind us through the grass. Then, very slowly, we stumbled forward. I was still limping slightly due to my injury from the fight with the robot. Worse, I was distracted—still worrying about my possible exposure to red mercury. Kasheena appeared exhausted. Her eyelids drooped, and her expression was dour. Bloop half–hopped between us, each step eliciting a pained breath. It was a grueling, wearying effort, but we had no choice. If we didn’t get help, Bloop would almost certainly die. My fear, however, given the excruciating pace of our progress, was that we wouldn’t reach help in time.
All the while, the sun beat down upon us, showing no mercy.
Soon, the Nazi saucer vanished from sight, its secrets and dangers safely sealed away from anyone else who might discover it.
I hoped.
14
THE TEMPLE OF THE SLUG
WHEN WE FIRST SPOTTED THE Temple of the Slug, the grasslands had given way to a large open plain that offered little protection or concealment. Gone were the rolling hills and the tall grass, replaced instead by a flat rocky expanse about the length of five football fields populated with short, scrubby weeds and a few groves of thin, stunted trees. We crouched along the edge of the field, hidden among the last bit of high foliage. Bloop rested between us, panting. His injuries and the exertion were taking a severe toll on him. Rather than abating, his fever had grown worse, and he kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Many times since leaving the flying saucer crash site, Kasheena and I had ended up carrying him.
“He’s in bad shape,” I whispered. “He needs water. If those fucking Anunnaki hadn’t stolen my travel mug….”
“We could not carry both Bloop and our weapons and the gourd, Aaron. There will be water aplenty when we reach my people. And medicine.”
“How much further?”
“Do you see the forest on the other side?” She pointed. “My village is there, not too far from the forest’s edge. We farm the far side of this plain, for there is rich soil beneath the rocks. If you look closely, you should be able to see our crops.”
I squinted, barely able to make out the trees on the horizon, let alone any signs of agriculture. The distance and the heat haze made the tree line seem like a mirage, there one minute and gone the next. My gaze returned to the temple, which was much more prominent. The immense structure lay about halfway across the plain, standing three stories high and shaded by several tall, broad trees that were unlike the other trees in the field. The temple’s architecture suggested Greek origins. It had an air of antiquity, although the massive stones used in its construction couldn’t have been moved or put in place by hand alone. Heavy equipment of some kind must have been used. I saw no obvious signs of damage from my vantage point. The walls, pillars surrounding the entrance, and the domed roof all seemed intact.
“So, this is it, then? All we have to do is make it across the plain?”
Kasheena nodded. “After we have passed the Temple of the Slug and are nearing the village’s crops, I am certain that some of my people will see us approaching. Then we will have help carrying Bloop.”
“There’s not much cover out there,” I murmured. “I’d suggest waiting for nightfall, but of course, that’s never going to happen.”
“What is this nightfall?”
“Well, it’s what people on my world call the time of day when the sun goes down. The land gets dark. But I guess you’ve never experienced that. Like I said, the Lost Level has no nightfall.”
“No,” Kasheena agreed. “It does not. But it does have darkness, and we don’t want our friend to succumb to that darkness. So, let us go.”
She grabbed her sword and stood up. Sighing, I did the same. Then, we roused Bloop and helped him to his feet. He slumped between us with a pitiful mewl.
“It’s okay, Bloop,” I soothed. “We’re almost there.”
“Yes,” Kasheena chimed in, trying to sound positive. “Soon we will be among my people, and you can rest on a soft bed, and Shameal will cure you.”
When our companion responded, his voice was weak and pained. “Bloop….”
We limped along the terrain, struggling to keep Bloop upright, and were about halfway to the temple when a shadow rose up out of the grasslands and swooped over us, momentarily blocking out the sun. As we glanced upward, a terrible screech echoed across the plain. Kasheena and I stopped, gaping at the monstrous pterodactyl soaring overhead. It circled us hungrily and cried out again. Its roar seemed to thunder across the plains like a sweeping gale force wind.
“Shit,” I yelled. “Come on. We’ve got to make for the temple!”
Kasheena let go of Bloop, and all of his weight fell against me. He slumped over, and I had to drop my sword and use both arms to hold him upright.
“You go,” she shouted, bracing herself and clutching her sword. “I will stand and fight.”
“Goddamn it, Kasheena! You can’t take that thing on armed only with a sword. Our only choice is to hide.”
“I will not set foot in the temple, Aaron. I will not risk the curse or ignore the warnings. I would rather take my chances here.”
With another screech, the pterodactyl dove toward us, clawed–feet outstretched. Its massive wings made a whooshing noise as they cleaved through the air.
“You’re coming with me,” I said. “No arguments.”
I let go of Bloop with one hand and grabbed for Kasheena, but she slapped me aside, hard enough that I lost my balance and toppled over. Bloop fell on top of me, knocking the air from my lungs. Gasping for breath, I pushed him out of the way in time to see the beast looming over Kasheena. She stood with her shoulders high and feet planted firmly apart, braced for battle. The sun glinted off her sword blade for a second, and then the sunlight vanished, blocked by the pterodactyl’s massive shadow. She’d been right just moments before. There was darkness here.
