Through Glass Darkly Episode 1 (5 page)

While the Captain wasn’t able to visit the morgue for himself, I only needed to describe the scene, for him to come to the same conclusion that I had.

When we explained our suspicions to the agents and the other Hughes, there was no choice but to be as open and frank as possible.

‘There’s a lot which we don’t know for sure,’ explained the Captain. ‘While this looks like the work of just a single creature, it could conceivably be more than one, possibly even three or four.

‘You’ve seen the remains of the creatures which attacked the ship, the large almost insect like monsters with numerous limbs, small eyes and those terrible round mouths filled with row upon row of pointed teeth. Well, while we can presume these are of the same type, they can be very unpredictable when they’re injured or isolated, and they are both very strong and very difficult to hurt.’

‘Just tell us how to find them and kill them Mr Hughes,’ interrupted Agent Jenkins grimly. ‘We can discuss what you do and don’t know once these monsters are dealt with.’

‘I’m afraid it may not be that simple,’ replied the Captain. ‘Even seeing these Lamphrey type creatures may be difficult, when they’re healthy they emit some kind of energy which can make them all-but invisible to the naked eye, it’s only as they become weaker or injured they become easier to spot. Nor are they stupid, in numbers they know they’re stronger and attack much more aggressively, in isolation or pairs they’ll not only be less aggressive, they’ll fall back upon they’re natural stealth, often lying in wait for their prey or manoeuvring to take them by surprise.

‘Finally, when you do get them cornered, they can be very difficult to kill. Their internal structure is significantly different to any normal animal which means they can adapt their internal organs and musculature to the circumstances they find themselves in. This means when they choose they can toughen their bodies to withstand damage, or to move incredibly quickly, or even to have a massive amount of strength. They don’t seem to be able to change between states very quickly, unless they’ve had time to prepare what they’re going to do. As a consequence when we were in the Expanse, if we surprised them, or even just saw them coming they’d often be relatively easy to pick off, but once they got aboard and had chance to transform they could take an incredible amount of punishment.’

Once the agents felt they knew enough about the creatures to hunt them down, they made to head off to get their people in motion, but not before the Captain was able to make one final request.

‘Agent Jenkins,’ began Hughes, again showing signs of being tired ‘I know you don’t yet have any reason to trust us. And I wish you the best of luck hunting these creatures. But I believe it may be possible for us to try and undo some the damage we appear to have inflicted.

‘On board my ship there are a number of devices and weapons which I believe would be of help to you.’

‘I’m sorry Captain Hughes,’ interrupted the agent, holding a hand up to stop him. ‘I appreciate the sentiment, but for the moment your ship remains off limits, nobody is going to be allowed anywhere near it until this situation is in hand, and we can verify at least some of your story.’

With that he turned to leave, followed by his colleague.

‘Please don’t wait too long Agent Jenkins,’ replied the Captain, before they had gone. ‘My crew still need several more weeks to convalesce before they will be able to help you, and my ability to assist you appears to be diminishing.’

Over the next few days we saw nothing more of either the agents, or the police, but each night when he visited, the other Hughes brought details of fresh sightings of the creature, followed by equally grisly details of the deaths among the city’s under classes. First upon the homeless and other vulnerable individuals, then as the creature grew more confident and stronger, upon small groups, until eventually there was no hiding it from the papers.

At the same time, even without having exerted himself the Captain seemed to continue growing weaker. There was little the doctors could do, other than try and keep the Captain’s environment as sterile as possible so as to avoid exposing his weakened immune system to any chance of infection.

The other Hughes, still came to visit him each day, and it was during one of these visits that the Captain asked him if there was any way he might be able to persuade the authorities to let him back aboard the ship.

‘I’m happy to try,’ replied Hughes, sombrely. ‘But to be frank I think it’s unlikely they’ll agree.’

‘Do you think it would make any difference if I just asked to send something else in my stead.’ Asked the Captain, being unusually circumspect.

‘The. . . devices you wear perhaps?’

‘Yes,’ said the Captain, simply. ‘I have had problems with my immune system before. And I had these items designed and fitted to reinforce my system. But the power reserves within them are now all but depleted. They don’t require long to recharge, perhaps just an hour or so.’

‘I suspect they’d resist even that right now, but there is another possibility which I’ve been considering for a while. Please leave it with me for the moment and I’ll see what can be done.’

He was careful not to antagonise Agent Jenkins or the Police directly, but somehow managed to encourage the papers to start asking if there weren’t some way the airship or its crew could help out, perhaps even some device or technology aboard the stricken craft that could be used to help trace the killer.

I barely noticed it when it first appeared as a suggestion in an inside column of the Evening Post, but the following day the same questions appeared in the Times, Herald and Tribune and the Standard, and then when two Police officers were found brutally killed while patrolling their beats, the idea suddenly seemed to gather momentum across all the daily papers, until the next thing we knew the press were outside the hospital and Jenkins was back to see the Captain.

The Captain was noticeably weaker by now, and finding it difficult to remain awake for more than an hour or so. But for each question the agent had, he was able to suggest some way in which the devices aboard the ship might be able to help or support the work of the Police or the agents in locating and stopping the creatures.

The staff of people which surrounded the other Hughes were pressed into action, and almost before Jenkins knew what was happening we were leaving the hospital, surrounded by a retinue of Hughes staff, doctors and other medical staff.

I don’t know how we got to the cars, let alone back to the Goose, but somehow we made our way through the crowds that had suddenly turned up with the press in order to try and catch a glimpse of us.

CHAPTER 8 - REUNION

We were skirting the edge of Central Park on our way toward 7
th
Avenue where the Golden Goose was still moored, when I suddenly realised I could see the ship hanging motionless above the trees.

It was a bright but cloudy day, and as we drove down 5
th
Avenue I would occasionally catch glimpses of the craft, still angled nose down at forty five degrees like a dagger blade plunged into the centre of Manhattan island.

Despite the dangerous angle at which the ship listed it didn’t look too badly damaged to begin with, but as we drew closer and moved around the park and some of the tall buildings which had partially obscured the ship, the level of damage became more apparent.

I hadn’t drawn the Captain’s attention to the fact that I’d seen the ship, but something in my face must’ve alerted him to how badly damaged she was. Finally as we drove around the corner of the park and then South onto 7
th
Avenue the true extent of devastation became clear.

How it was still airborne I couldn’t imagine. The ship looked as though it has been gutted. Great sections of the body along its side had either been crushed in or ripped out. I could read the way the Kraken must have flayed into the sides of the ship, tearing the great bronze girders and bracing struts asunder, ripping the weapons arms almost entirely away from the sides of the ship, twisting and crumpling the engines and struts alike, like so much tin foil.

As the cars pulled up outside the safety barriers which had obviously been erected around the site to protect the public from any debris which might fall from the craft, I could see the sorrow the Captain experienced as he looked at the ruined shell of what had once been his greatest achievement.

I think, like myself he had until that moment hoped the damage might somehow be repaired, and the ship might one day be able to bear what few of us remained back to our own world. But it was clear now to both of us, that the damage was too great.

To his credit, he didn’t allow the others to see his disappointment, and despite the fatigue, still moved on.

Walking from the barriers to the cradles which would carry us back up to the Goose, was more of an exertion for the Captain than he’d had over the past few days, but with the help of a medical orderly he managed.

And then we were in the cradle and heading back up to the ship. It was clear there was still some power aboard the ship, which was a good sign, and the cradle carried the Captain, myself, the other Hughes, both agents and Dr Zimmerman without any difficulty at all, which was also a relief. Once back aboard, with the exception of the severe pitch at which the ship hung, the damage again didn’t seem too severe.

But the angle of the ship made it very difficult for us move around. She’d been designed with severe turbulence in mind so there was no shortage of handrails to help us about, but the Captain simply didn’t have the strength for this kind of movement, and even with the rest of us helping him he still had to rest every few minutes.

As we moved closer to the bridge, the signs of damage in the corridors became more obvious, and as we descended the last twenty yards of corridor the signs of a fire-fight were clear for all to see, with dozens of scorch marks, scratches and gouges covering every surface, along walls, floor and ceiling, as well as the anonymous dark stains where defenders or invaders had succumbed to their injuries.

Once past the now pitiful remains of the bridge’s bulkhead door, the level of damage diminished markedly. This confirmed the Captain’s account of how just after the creatures had forced their way in he’d been able to trigger the release of Arc energies.

But by the time we reached the bridge the Captain was in a bad state, and almost had to be carried into the bridge by the other Hughes. Everything was still at the crazed downward angle like the rest of the ship and the glass in most of the bridge windows was cracked or missing, so we had to spin the Captains chair around so it was facing toward the engineering station at the back of the bridge, with its dozens of dials and controls, before we could place him in it and then fasten the chairs safety harness around him.

We were all ready to take a moments rest by this point. But no sooner was the Captain fastened into the chair than the ship started to respond.

The Captain had slumped into the chair almost unconscious from fatigue, and obviously hadn’t activated anything himself. But within a heartbeat the lighting within the bridge came up to a brighter level, and as I looked around I saw all the dials and control panels across the bridge had sprung to life, accompanied by a soft but increasing hum of energy from deep in the heart of the vessel.

I think the agents and Doctor Zimmerman had just presumed we must’ve hit a control switch somewhere which had activated everything. But I could tell the other Hughes had realised that no such thing had happened, and was looking at me to see if I had any explanation.

As we all looked around trying to fathom what had happened, I noticed that the Aetheric capacitors fitted into the various devices which the Captain wore had also slowly started to pulse with a pale light, which I hoped indicated they were charging.

‘Is this normal Mr Hall?’ Asked Jenkins, noticing the look of confusion on my face.

‘I’m not sure,’ I had to admit. ‘But then I’ve never seen the bridge completely deactivated before.’

‘Perhaps I should check on Captain Hughes,’ suggested Dr Zimmerman, noticing that the Captain was still unresponsive, and moving forward to take his pulse.

But he’d gotten within barely a step of the Captain, when a blinding electric flash sent him flying across the bridge to land rather shocked and dazed against the helm.

At the same time; perhaps jolted by the discharge; the Captain’s chair rotated on its axle, and would’ve pitched the unconscious captain forwards against the harness, but before his body could move a restraining web of electro-static energy sprang between various points on the chair to restrain him even more tightly. At the same time I could see a similar aura of energy surrounding both the chair and Captain like some giant goldfish bowl.

Fortunately by the time Jenkins had got to him the doctor seemed to have shaken off the shock he’d literally received, and with the agents help was picking himself up, before once more approached his patient, though much more carefully this time.

As he came within reach of the hazy sphere around the Captain he gingerly reached out a hand to try and touch it. But again as though sensing his presence the electro-static globe became more energised and animated, until with the Doctors hand only a few inches away from the luminous barrier the energy started to arc around the chair in great electrical discharges.

‘We clearly can’t get any closer,’ the other Hughes commented as the doctor withdrew slightly. ‘But Captain Hughes appears to be unconscious, so I don’t see how he can be controlling it.’

‘Is this some exotic device you’ve not mentioned before Mr Hall?” asked Jenkins, beginning to look angry.

‘Not that I’m aware of Agent Jenkins,’ I had to admit. ‘I’ve never seen anything like this before.’

‘What about that droning, humming noise?’ continued Jenkins. ‘Any idea what that might be?’

Again I had to confess my ignorance, as when stationary, without the outboard engines running the Goose was normally very quiet.