CARTER [P3C4] – Realisations and Relations

The Chronicles of Samuel Carter – Part III: Chapter Four

This is Part Three of the Chronicles of Samuel Carter. If you would like to start at the beginning, please find Part One linked below.

The Chronicles of Samuel Carter

And now for the continuation…

Part III – Chapter Four: Realisations and Relations

No matter how often Thorne assured her, he had no idea that he had a daughter, never had any reason to believe otherwise and certainly had never thought it possible, regardless of his many relations over the years, since he had surgically taken himself out of the procreation equation entirely, a very responsible act, as he fervently liked to point out, Bellatrix did not, could not believe him.

A part of her wanted him to suffer, as she had suffered, a lab experiment, a mere tool, manipulated and used, abused and tricked into believing the promise of a better tomorrow, all so that some rich old bastard could play their sick game of world domination.

“So you didn’t sell your icky white Thornes to Beaumont?”

Thorne opened his mouth and shrugged his shoulders.

“You are by far the single most disgusting man I have ever met.”

“Oh, come on now, that’s a bit harsh. Besides, how was I supposed to know?”

“Just… stop talking!” Bellatrix felt empty now that she stood before this primitive specimen surrounded by the manifestations of his shallow fantasies. Her rage turned into pity.

“I’m sorry. I truly am. I have made many mistakes in my life, and I may not deserve this, but I ask you, please give us a chance.” Thorne spread out his arms.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bellatrix moved out of reach of his bare-chested embrace.

“Too soon, eh?”

“You think we hug and we’re one happy family?”

“No, of course not. But… I have a daughter. I’m a Dad. This is fantastic. I never thought I’d say this, but you may be the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

It dawned on Theodore that he was trapped and had been all his life, and if he were to get out of this mess alive, he’d have a lot to make up for. With this newfound clarity, he vowed to change. The mere thought of not being a part of the life of this magnificent human being, his flesh and blood, was unbearable for some inexplicable reason, and he was now convinced with absolute certainty that the sole purpose for his continued existence rested in ensuring he did everything in his power to be there for his daughter.

As these thoughts took hold in Thorne, their surroundings changed. The hut and bar disappeared, then the girls and the beach vanished, and they were wearing their clothes again, and all they saw was pure white around them. A rhythmic hum emanated from a black sarcophagus a few feet away.

“Thank the heavens,” sighed Jackie.

“What just happened?” said Samuel.

“I think I’m starting to understand what I’m supposed to retrieve,” said Theodore, glancing at Bellatrix.

“The Talha Ka Ran heart,” said Adrian.

As in answer, the sarcophagus hummed louder. Thorne stepped towards it.

“Wait.” Samuel laid a hand on Thorne’s shoulder, went past him, approached the container, knelt, put his hands on the surface and began chanting.

“Talha Ka Ran Bara’da Kan.”

Light spread from his hands across the pod and soon engulfed them both. Thoughts, not his, invaded his mind.

Father.

A wave of emotions rose inside Samuel, a violent tide of day and night.

Why have you forsaken me?

“My son, I never left,” Samuel heard himself say without words.

Where is Mother?

“In the deep where the shadows lie.”

I sense her.

“Soon she will rise.”

We are the Darkness.

“We are the Light. Have faith and we shall be united again.”

There was no reply. Only a low, rhythmic hum and then the middle opened. A giant, lidless eye, a black void, darkness beyond darkness. Samuel had seen it before in his nightmares, but instead of dread, it now filled him with anticipation, and he held out his hand to Jackie. And so they stood around the pod, holding hands, and the light burned brighter and brighter. A beam of silver shot from Samuel’s chest into the opening, flowing into the ring. Their bodies blurred into one, stretched, elongated, warped, entangled rays of light, sucked into that black nothing, and then they were back in the chamber.

The sarcophagus was empty. Adrian insisted they return to Beaumont Manor immediately. Thorne suspected the old Beaumont knew where the artefact was, and Bellatrix, much to her surprise, found herself agreeing. Samuel kept quiet and decided not to tell the others about the voice. Was he in control? Did he do the right thing? What was the right thing? Did it matter? Was there any choice?

“Sam? Samuel!” Adrian poked Samuel, who was staring at the pod, lost in thought. “Can you get us back to the manor?”

Before Sam could answer, the stone slab blocking the exit lowered into the ground and in swarmed Göhrlichen’s men, followed by the man himself with Professor Traunstein in tow.

“Doctor Carter, am I glad to see you!” cried the Professor, earning him a blow to the ribs.

“Professor von Traunstein! You’re alive!”

“Bravo, Doctor Carter, what an astute observation. Now, step away from the sarcophagus,” said Göhrlichen, carrying his pug in one arm and stroking him with the other.

A whisper came from the pod. They backed away. Bazi barked, jumped to the ground, ran up to it and growled.

“Bazi! Bei Fuß!” shouted Erich, but the pug ignored him and kept yelping and jumping on its hind legs, scratching at the pod.

The whispers intensified. Eric stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the ring in the middle. The voices came from there, he could hear them, Ehhhhhhhhriiiiiiichhhhhhhh, they called out to him.

“Finally,” he said, looking down into the black hole. “Infinite cosmic power. All mine. MINE!“ his maniacal laughter turned into a scream as a tentacle shot up and spread and merged with his head. Feet in the air, his whole body shook and twisted, and with a jerk, he was pulled down into the tiny hole and was gone. The whispers subsided, and with a whimper, Bazi went and sat next to the Professor.

Göhrlichen’s men, guns raised, looked at each other, unsure what to do next, when one of them was lifted into the air by the head, dangling from a black tentacle, emptying his clip, sending everyone to dive for cover, and with a crack and squish fell to the ground headless. More menacing tentacles came dangling down, bullets started flying, men were shouting and screaming, bones were crunching, and Sam, Adrian, Bellatrix, Thorne, and the Professor, pug in arms, were cowering behind the sarcophagus, hands over their heads. Then the ceiling came crashing down, burying everyone alive.

* * *

When Samuel opened his eyes, coughing, wiping dust and grime from his face, he knew they were no longer in the same chamber. They were back at the Beaumont Manor, and next to them was the pod holding Jackie.

“I…I’m not dead!” Adrian cried, stumbling to his feet.

“Son of a gun, I feel like I’ve been wrung and hung out to dry,” Thorne coughed, turning to Bellatrix. “You OK?”

Bellatrix slapped his hand away. “I’ve had worse,” her voice said otherwise.

“Zat was quite ze jump, Doctor Carter.” The Professor got up, Bazi in his arms, licking his face.

“It wasn’t me, I think,” said Samuel.

With a hiss, the lid of the pod slid aside, tendrils of white crawled into the orange twilight of the chamber, and a pale hand appeared, gripping the edge, then a shoulder, a face, and out from the cold brightness emerged a woman.

“Jackie,” breathed Adrian.

Jackie stumbled, and Adrian caught her before she could fall. After a few speechless moments, everyone started talking at once, appalled at the lack of hygiene and choice of garments, unfazed by the fact that they had travelled thousands of miles in the blink of an eye, that it wasn’t Samuel’s doing, that they had escaped certain death by head exploding tentacles, or the small matter of how Göhrlichen had found them in the first place, which Thorne reluctantly explained, apparently having played both sides, in a game of double the gold double the fun, and which did not endear him to anyone, least of all Bellatrix. Professor von Traunstein shared grave news of Bartleby perishing in the attack on the Circle during the ritual and that Nadine and the High Priest had managed to escape.

“Erich knew he didn’t need me anymore. I guess he kept me around for old times’ sake. Poor Erich. He was too far gone,” the Professor petted Bazi, then cleared his throat. “But I fear we have unleashed something far worse. A darkness is coming.”

“Yeah, it’s called nighttime. Not to sound like a fashion nazi, but we all could use a change of clothes, especially Polkadot and Fleasack here, and I’ve had enough alien pods, crazy Germans – no offence Professor – and brain-eating tentacles for one day. I need to wash this stink off me before I cut someone,” Bellatrix was looking at Thorne.

“That’s my daughter,” he said, beaming with pride.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and groaned.

Adrian opened the pressure door, and one by one, they emerged from the chamber, much to the surprise of a dozing Higgins, who almost fell from his chair when Jackie called out his name.

“Higgins, inform my father. We have guests.”

Higgins jumped to his feet, face as pale as a fish and stammered, “Yes, M…Ma’am. I, uh, you are…”

“Yes, yes, quite alive. Now be a dear and tell Bertrand to ready the rooms and something adequate to wear for our guests.”

“Yes, Ma’am, But…your father—” Higgins hesitated, a scarlet display of conflicting obedience.

“Yes, what is it? Out with it.”

“He, uh, he left for Cairo, Ma’am.”

“I see,” she paused, then added, “When?”

“Two days ago,” spluttered Higgins with apparent relief.

* * *

Two hours later, they were sitting at the grand table in the dining hall, the clatter of plates, knives and forks, glasses clinking, slurping, burping and munching, accompanied by Schubert’s Trout Quintet, no one said a word.

Samuel remembered the last time he had been a guest and had no intention of repeating that experience. He hadn’t noticed that he had stopped eating, staring at his plate, knife in hand.

“Is everything alright? Do you want something else?” Jackie inquired.

Samuel turned to her with his rune-covered face. “What does it look like? We almost died – again, and now we’re sitting here eating fish and chips as if nothing has happened. This is ridiculous. If your father were here, we’d have to fight over who gets to murder him, so no. Nothing is alright, and I’ve had it with all your secrets and pretence.”

“I say we torture her. She’ll talk,” Bellatrix stabbed a piece of meat with her blade and took a bite.

“Talk about what? You already know everything. Ask Samuel. We all have our demons, and I’m afraid I don’t have much time left. This body, this vessel, is only temporary.”

“Jackie,” Adrian grabbed her hand.

“Oh, Adrian, my darling. I’m sorry, there’s nothing you can do.” She removed her hand gently and looked round the table, eyes resting on Samuel. “Father is looking for the tomb of Alexander the Great. We must stop him.”

“Ze tomb of Alexander ze Great. One of ze last great mysteries. No one has ever found it,” said the Professor, fork raised.

“That’s why he’s in Cairo. He must know where it is,” said Adrian.

“Hmm, hmm, ze desert is vast. Many have tried. George is desperate, a foolish quest,” the Professor continued eating.

“My father may be many things, Thomas, a fool he is not,” said Jackie.

“I’ll go,” said Theo and Bellatrix in sono.

Samuel shook his head and sighed. “How do we know it’s not a trap?”

“Duh, of course, it is. Just wear one of your dresses again, something with stripes,” suggested Bellatrix.

Samuel scoffed, arms crossed.

“What do you think, Bazi?” asked Thomas.

“Woof!”

“Seems we’re all in agreement.”

---

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