Interloup Twenty Eight - Encounter with the Kraken
Troy
That night I suffered very strange dreams.
First there were giant crabs, sea serpents, dragons, confused and disturbing images. They were chasing me and I wasn’t sure which one of them was the Kraken, but finally I realised that it was a shadow, a giant shadow, nothing more. It was a strangely comforting dream.
I waked up, and looked out of the port-hole. We were floating on the water. The moon, very close to full, was reflected in a calm, clear sea that extended to the horizon.
I read for a while then fell asleep again.
I dreamed of Jonathan and Amelia’s father. My father.
He was saying to me, “My son. You are my son.”
Just that, while I was doing schoolwork; maths, I think... His hand was on my shoulder. There was a bookcase behind me, and a gnome was in the room sitting with us, teaching us about cryptography and puzzles. Amelia was sitting next to me - then everything changed and I was looking into the same room, on a different day.
I seemed to be looking at someone sitting next to Amelia - but I couldn’t see his face. Was it me? I felt an insatiable sense of curiosity. He began turning around slowly, I was about to see his face - I held my breath - but at that moment in the real world the ASDICS alarm sounded and I felt myself being pulled out of my dream - I tried to cling to the dream until I saw his face - who was he? Was he me?
Suddenly I was awake, staring at the immense ocean passing by through the port-hole.
I tried to imagine myself into the dream again, to see whose face it was - it seemed so very important - but the ASDICS alarm was too insistent.
I quickly threw on some clothes and made my way up to the Conning Tower.
Interloup Twenty Nine - Cracks in Reality
Zev
They had thought that they were home clear when Loki left.
How wrong they were.
It had all begun innocuously enough, sometime before that ASDICS alarm sounded that Troy mentioned, when Evans and Zev had been walking to the galley with Zelf, for a cup of tea or hot chocolate after supper.
Evans had just asked Zelf, “Do you mind if I just use your radio-telegraph? I need to report in to home office.”
Zelf’s reply had been, “Of course you can - you know where it is - all your equipment is set up in there. We actually have a two way radio too, if you need to use that. Actually there’s a unit in the Conning Tower too, but the full controls are in the radio room.”
Evans had left, then Zev and Zelf were having their hot chocolate3.
Zev watched Zelf pouring the hot water into the cups. She managed it quite deftly with her paws - it seemed that the container was designed for a Welfing.
She looked up at him and gave a brief howl of familiarity. Even when he was a human his sense of smell was very acute - he could smell her musky fragrance even at the other side of the room.
An overwhelming sense of destiny. She is the one for me, he thought.
They began sipping their hot chocolate.
Evans appeared presently with Jonas.
She poured cups of tea for both of them.
Evans and Jonas both looked relieved. The whole day had all been too much for Jonas, in particular, but Zev suspected Evans had been very shaken by the events too; Loki, the Kraken, everything that had just happened. Troy had gone to his cabin to bed already.
Zev wondered why he himself did not feel as worried as Jonas and Evans and the boy.
He was already very familiar with the fact that there was more to the world, ‘more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,’ than most people realised.
That must be why.
Strangely, echoing Zev’s thoughts, Jonas said to Zelf, “You and Zev just don’t seem perturbed at all by Loki - I mean, I just don’t understand it - a Norse god exists. That implies that other gods exist too, Odin, maybe, or Frija or Thor. Or, God forbid, Zeus.”
Zev said, “Yes. Did you not realise? Odin is Wednesday. Thor is Thursday... It disturbed you quite a bit...”
Jonas’ face screwed up. He said, “It isn’t that obvious, is it? God.”
Zelf asked, “Why do you think that is?”
Jonas sighed - as though he really didn’t want to say - but he did anyway. He said, “Well, Zelf, you see... I used to assume there’d always be a way out - like in a nightmare, you know, you never actually die - when someone ‘as a gun you disarm ‘em, you get sick you go to the doctor, if a piano’s fallin’ you jump out of the way. But what shocked me is that these character exist ‘oo can snuff you out just like that - poof! - you’re dead - and if one of them decides ‘e don’t like you, then that’s the end of it, ain’t it?” Jonas laughed.
“And what’s more - what if they don’t agree? Do you think they’ll care about our feelings about the matter? How can we possibly keep on their good side if they’re fightin’ with one another? You please one of ‘em, you’re probably displeasing the other. Evans is like me - nervous as hell - I know you are Evans, you can hide it better’n me, but you still are. But what I don’t understand is how you two can just continue like nothing’s happened. The world is a much scarier place than I could ‘ave ever imagined, yet you seem as calm about it as if it was always like this and it’s nothing to worry about. Is it something about being a wolf?”
Zelf nodded, her eyes smiling, and said, “What today’s events show us is that the Alpha of Alphas is more powerful than any gods or powers. The name of Hiyeswa was what saved us from Loki today, Jonas, and nothing else. If the evil powers are real, might not the Good be real also? Would the Alpha of Alphas abandon his children if other gods attack, even if the Kraken himself attacks? But even if El did allow us to be overcome - even if we died - our souls will return to him. So what is there to worry about? I faced the possibility of death when I left my realm - dying, for me, is much more likely here in this entropic realm. My people don’t die, as a matter of course.”
With an expression of awe, Jonas said, “So you’re like a goddess, too? A sort of wolf-goddess?” He looked as though he wanted to bow down to her.
Zelf and Zev gave each other a peculiar look then, but Jonas wasn’t particularly observant; he probably didn’t notice it. But to Zev, it meant at that moment that Zelf realised, that for him, at least, she was something of a wolf-goddess.
Zev shook the thought out of his head; he didn’t want to influence her. It would be better for her if she didn’t marry him.
Zev said, “I don’t want to die. But I know that, sooner or later, every one of us dies, well except for Zelf of course. Well, unless of course she should...”
Evans said, “For the sake of the Deity, man, get it out.”
Zev leaned forward at the table. “Let me start again then. Everyone inevitably dies, Jonas, every single one of us, except for Zelf of course, apart from misadventure, or... marriage to a mortal, I suppose.” His voice was a low growl. “But you see, while I was stuck in Bedlam I saw the lives some of those poor people lead who ought to be there, who really are insane. Forever struggling with their sanity, never able to live their lives - I realised that life really is precious, Jonas. I want to live - I made the decision to live, even though I had been imprisoned in that place unjustly, I still hoped that I might eventually get released. But I also know that my soul is in the Alpha of Alpha’s hands, for better or worse, for life or for death, so I don’t really fear what happens to me. I fear pain, I fear long periods of waiting, I fear most of all the Alpha of Alpha’s approbation, but I don’t fear death.”
Jonas said, “It’s a lot to get my head around.”
Evans took out a packet of cigarettes and said, “I need a smoke.”
Jonas said, “May I?”
Evans let him take one from the pack and lit it for him, then lit his own.
Evans left took his half-finished cup of tea and went out to his cabin to smoke, and Jonas followed him.
“Well, it’
s just us again,” said Zelf, fixing Zev’s eye with her golden gaze.
“It is,” said Zev, examining the fine structure of her furry ears, then looking her in the eye again.
Zelf said, “We survived Loki’s presence on board my submarine. That’s quite an achievement.”
Zev nodded, and said, “Really, Zelf, you ought to congratulate yourself. It was you who saved us, actually.”
Zelf corrected him, “Or congratulate the Alpha of Alphas. He saved us. His breath gave me the words, Zev. He was the one who guided me.”
Zev nodded again. The engines were off, and he could hear the ocean lapping softly against the submarine’s hull.
They talked for a time about small things of the days on the sub and hardly noticed the hours passing.
At one point Zelf was saying, “We die. We are not like elves. Welfings are still fallible, too, Zev. Very fallible at times. In my cubhood, my parents died, when I was very very young. Distant relatives adopted me. I called them uncle and auntie. They were kind, but nonetheless I was clearly the least important in the pack, wolves are like that, Zev. They couldn’t win I suppose - when they were kind it only reminded me they weren’t my parents, when they were offhand (perhaps out of kindness to me), it reminded me that I didn’t have any parents.”
Zev said, “Is that why you left First Den?”
Zelf shook her head. “No. I had another problem.”
His voice was soft.
“What problem?...”
She looked away and didn’t say anything for a long while.
Eventually Zev filled the silence with another question.
“How did your parents die, Zelf?”
“I don’t know. I still don’t know. No’one ever told me.... Tell me about your childhood, Zev.”
“It was alright. My mother and father looked after me well enough. Although -”
Zelf went quiet. “I thought you were an orphan.”
“No, no, not an orphan, exactly.”
Suddenly a bell began ringing.
Zelf got up and said, “It’s not one of my alarms.”
“Where’s it coming from?” asked Zev.
“Must be Evans’ alarm, I suppose,” said Zelf, heading up the corridor.
Evans was in the radio room, still putting his coat on, looking at the dials, “Don’t worry, that one’s mine. There’s a ley intersection, probably about one hundred and eighty miles away - I’ll get the latitude and longitude for you, Zelf.”
Zelf leapt onto the ladder that led to the Conning Tower. “I must change course, then. We’re drifting in the opposite direction...”
Zev and Jonas arrived.
The vacuum ray screen of the Ætheric Detector showed a blip near the edge.
Evans pointed to it and said, “That ley intersection is about seventy miles away, which is strange - my equipment should have a range of about one hundred and twenty miles; the alarm should have gone off earlier - it makes me think the crack in the æther might be underwater. I can’t tell you any more about it yet, apart from the fact that it is seventy miles north north west. Three thirty five degrees, I should say.”
That was when the ASDICS alarm sounded.
Zelf climbed up the ladder to the Conning Tower, and the other three followed her up.
In the front window they could see that the weather on the sea to the north had completely changed - storm clouds covered the sky, and lightning cracked across from the east to the west, great sheaths of shattering light, from one horizon to the other. The submarine was rocked by a gentle undulation that was gradually becoming bigger but the storm wind and the high ocean waves had not yet reached us.
But that wasn’t what shocked us.
In the distance, perhaps a hundred miles away, on the horizon, was a fearsome, malignant Thing, with hooked tentacles waving in the sky hundreds of feet high, and among them, giant pincers twitching and grasping spasmodically, and an armoured shell that could be glimpsed rising and falling among the broiling, turgid waters. In the center was an abhorrent circular mouth surrounded by giant chelicerae dripping with mucus from a height of a hundred feet, and a single enormous, fearsome, unblinking, fiery eye stared out at us from the very middle.
Interloup Thirty - The battle with the Kraken
Troy
As I said before, the ASDICS alarm sounded.
When I clambered through the hatch, I couldn’t help noticing that they were all silent.
An atmosphere of dread filled the room.
I asked, “What is it?”
Zelf said, “The Kraken. Now we see it by the light of day.”
Jonas complained, “I thought Loki gave his word.” His knees were audibly knocking and his jaw was chattering. “Perhaps it doesn’t want us.”
But we all knew that wasn’t true, for it’s single, execrable eye was upon us, fear-inspiring, repellant, terrible.
Zev said, “Loki’s word is not worth anything. He changed his mind.”
Zelf said, “He promised he would not stop us. He didn’t say anything about the Kraken.”
Evans said, “I need to radio home office. Is that alright?”
Zelf said, “Now? What on earth for?”
Zev suggested, “Perhaps he wants to say goodbye to his family.”
I suppose it was meant to be a slightly sick joke but Zelf looked penetratingly at him for a moment then turned away from him and nodded to Evans, saying, “Go ahead, Evans.”
Then she bowed her head and began praying.
“That’s not good, is it?” said Jonas. “I mean, when Zelf starts praying, that means we’re really for it. Oh, God, oh, God.”
Before he went down to the radio room, Evans stood on the ladder and said to Zelf, “Keep that damned Kraken on the move! You need to keep it on the run for as long as you can! Just keep it moving - I may have an idea... I’ll be back in a minute...” Then he disappeared down the hatch.
Zelf nodded.
She said, “Alright. I suppose that’s a reasonable tactic. There’s no reason not to. Except that... I’m not sure how long the fuel will hold out. Perhaps eight or nine hours, judging from our last experience. We’ll do what we can and trust that the Alpha of Alphas will do the rest. Perhaps we can wear the Kraken out.”
Zelf pulled the throttle open, and we were travelling at a good twenty two knots. She turned the submarine around and set our course away from the Kraken. But though we were travelling at a good twenty two knots the Kraken gradually moved around us until we were virtually travelling towards it. It was encircling us, gradually getting closer.
Every time Zelf changed course the Kraken moved as well, following us, inexorably, irresistably.
The sea became a turbulent, seething brine and storm winds blew up.
Despite our precipitous velocity, the terrible roaring of the engine and the staggering pitching and plunging as we went over the waves, time was passing excruciatingly slowly. It was a slow nightmare.
I don’t know how long it was that we were playing that terrible game with the dreadful monster - an hour, two hours, four hours - but eventually Zelf said, “I can’t keep doing this. The Kraken is playing with us as a cat plays with a mouse.”
She closed the throttle and the engine quietened to a steady throb
We found ourselves lurching and tossing upon a tempestuous sea without the propellor screws lending us their inertia, flotsam at the mercy of the hostile elements.
Zelf said, “Now, we go down.”
She pressed a button on the console and the ballast tanks filled. Down we sank, down, down, into the dark, terrible depths. After ten feet we were no longer rocked by the waves. After fifty feet, the waters were no longer turbid.
After a hundred feet, we could see nothing - the storm above had diminished the daylight so that it no longer reached these parts of the sea.
We kept descending. Two hundred feet. Four hundred feet. Nine hundred feet.
Evans compla
ined, “The submarine is not rated for these depths.” The others hadn’t realised he was back until he said that.
Zelf cut the engine completely and turned out the lights. She even turned off the ventilation system.
“It’s our one chance of escaping, Evans. If the Kraken cannot see us, it cannot chase us.”
The silence of the dreadful spaces seemed infinite.
We were drifting, lower and lower, deeper and deeper into the abyss.
If the Kraken was there in that dark, deep chasm, we would not be able to see it, and hopefully, it would not be able to see us.
We sat in darkness as cold, austere dread seeped into our bones.
Then the silence ended.
The hull began creaking and groaning, and could hear little trickles of water dribbling in indeterminate places, along the floor and the walls.
Suddenly there came a jarring bump.
“Eighteen hundred feet,” said Zelf. “We have reached the ocean floor.”
Her night vision is better than ours - she must still be able to see the dial.
Eerie.
I couldn’t see anything now.
As time passed my thoughts descended into misery and despair - they turned to Hades - the outer darkness where men are sent who have never forsaken their rebellion against the Highest or who have failed to turn back to him after wandering away - I had heard stories of such a place - but I had never before imagined what it must be like to be there.
And then I started to imagine that I really had died and was already there. Perhaps I hadn’t realised it, and it had already happened.
A terrible wailing started to form in my throat, but, perversely, a sudden sensation of water trickling over my foot reassured me.
In hell there is no water.
Then I realised what the water meant.
I grasped for Jonas’ arm, for I knew he was sitting next to me. He gripped my shoulder with his hand, as though trying to reassure me, but I could feel him trembling.
How long we stayed there holding onto each other like that I do not know.
I only know that a sound - a steady drip, drip, drip of water dropping - began somewhere in the submarine - was the only sound apart from the shallow, sporadic breaths we were taking - and gradually the time between drips was becoming shorter and shorter -
drip, drip,
drip-drip,
drip-drip,
drip-drip-drip,
drip-drip.
Each drop of water was the measure of our impending doom. I knew that if the ocean breached the cabin, we were done for.
The pressure would kill us instantly.
No one said anything.
We were waiting.
Hiding here on the ocean floor, in the Kraken’s own domain - I realised it was a folly of Zelf to try this - but gradually as minutes and hours passed in that deep, dark place a tiny hope began to burn in our hearts, a small, weak candle flame.
Perhaps we had evaded the Kraken.
Finally Jonas broke the silence.
“Perhaps the Kraken has forgotten about us. Perhaps it will leave us alone, and we can rise to the surface, and escape our fate...”
Zelf said, “Perhap-” but then stopped.
Then I saw it too.
A tiny light in the distance. The only thing visible.
A long, long way off. Or perhaps it was close to us? I couldn’t tell.
Evans whispered comforting words, “It might be an anglerfish. They live in the depths - the Challenger expedition discovered them in the eighteen twenties, I believe - they have a small luminous bulb that they carry with them, to attract other fish. It could be quite near to us, actually.”
It swam into sight - a tiny, strangely skeletal fish with a tiny bobbing light above it. We all laughed rather hysterically I’m afraid - it was such a comical, bizarre sight - particularly considering the tension we were operating under.
Then it swam away.
Its light disappeared, then reappeared again.
Jonas guffawed, “Oh, look, the silly bugger’s comin’ back for another look.”
Slowly the light grew bigger. I realised suddenly that it was larger than it should have been. Twice as large as before - could it be the anglerfish? I didn’t think it was that close. I should be able to see it by now. What is it? It still could be the anglerfish couldn’t it?
Evans said, “It could be some other fish, I suppose. No one has been this deep before, I would warrant - anything might live down here, anything at all.”
Then the light began to move, strangely, almost...
To writhe.
Tentacles flailing and squirming around it.
Then suddenly the thing slipped to the side and out of view.
Jonas said, “That wasn’t... was it?”
I could hear Zelf pressing buttons frantically. The engines fired into life, they coughed, they sputtered, they began chugging.
Suddenly we were wrenched from the ocean floor.
Jonas said, “Have the engines worked? I thought it might be too deep - thank God!”
But Zelf said, “That wasn’t me. I haven’t engaged the screws yet!”
In the front port-hole the hook and part of the sucker of an enormous tentacle appeared.
Zelf cried out, “Grab hold of something! Brace yourselves! It is coming-”
Somehow I found the uperscope and grasped it clumsily. The whole cabin shook, and then our stomachs sank as we were pushed towards the floor by inertia.
The hull groaned.
I heard somebody tumbling about, bursting out with utterances and expletives with every jounce; I think it must have been Jonas.
Suddenly we were ascending at a terrific pace! Light filled the port-hole and we shielded our eyes - we had not even reached the surface, but it had been so dark on the ocean floor that even the half-light at the depth of five hundred feet was like the sun at noon to our dilated pupils - then of a sudden we broke the surface!
I heard the ocean splashing around us.
We were flying through the air, looking down at the tentacle that was holding us stretching below for hundreds of feet, and the great circular mouth ringed with teeth, and the dripping chelicerae in front of it, far below us, slowly moving.
We plummeted at a terrible pace, but instead of going into the mouth we were crushed against the ocean waves. I was certain the hull would be smashed but it wasn’t.
The submarine bobbed below the surface for a moment then ascended again.
A light flashed in my eyes and blinded me completely.
Had I glimpsed the sun for a moment?
A few seconds later a terrible ripping sound filled the cabin, with a low booming vibration that shook the walls, and the whole world tipped sideways.
This is the end, I thought. This is how we die.
Then we were floating, the submarine was bobbing up and down again.
Another bright flash blinded us, but our eyes were getting used to the light now. A large piece of tentacle splattered against the port-hole, and green mucoid blood dribbled down like puke.
The submarine plunged into the ocean on the crest of a giant wave and when we emerged again we all gasped as though we had been swallowed by the sea and then spat out again.
Then we saw it in the viewing screen.
A tiny gnat buzzing about above the giant, writhing octopus-like thing.
An aeroplane was flying far above the Kraken!
It dropped a tiny speck that drifted down like a minuscule piece of excrement from a fly. On hitting the Beast, the speck exploded into fire and light and flame, blowing bits of Kraken and tentacle sky high.
“A Vickers Virginia,” said Zelf. “A heavy bomber!”
“Indeed,” said Evans, laughing aloud for sheer pleasure. “Thank God for the RAF... Bomber command got my message - the radio operator said he’d request a bombing operation - must have been approved - I daresay they came ou
t from Worthy Downs. God bless ‘em! Look at the damn beast! It can’t do a thing against His Majesty’s blessed bombs. It’s smashing it into smitheroons!”
Another great wave hit us and we plunged into the ocean and back up to the surface.
More bombs fell on the creature. The sea became a mess of green blood, hooks and suckers and parts of tentacles, mucus, bits and pieces of mangled pincer and floating parts of shell that bobbed around in the ocean, almost comically, a very agreeable sight.
Eventually after enduring at least ten minutes of this punishment the Kraken had had enough. The enormous eye descended slowly into the waves like a sinking god, followed by the last few surviving tentacles, writhing as they disappeared into a whirlpool that spiralled inwards into an evanescent void, leaving behind debris floating disgustingly on the surface.
Far above, the biplane was coasting in a wide, lazy circle.
I noticed for the first time that the storm had stopped, the sea was relatively calm again, and it was early afternoon. The clouds parted and the friendly sun shone down.
I can hardly express how comforting the sight of the sun was after that ordeal.
“How will they get back?” said Zelf, “The range of a Vickers Virginia is only... eight hundred miles isn’t it, at the most? We must be at least that far from the coast of England. Further than that. Was it a suicide mission?” I was rather touched that she was concerned about the lives of English pilots.
Evans pointed to the west.
“More like nine hundred and miles. Watch.”
Another plane was approaching. It matched the speed and height of the first exactly. We could clearly see a man clambering out onto the wing of the second plane. He carried a hose which he manoeuvred into the side of the first plane, and they stayed like that for some time. Finally he withdrew the hose and clambered clumsily back to his seat in the biplane.
Evans said, “Midair refueling. It’s a new thing - we’re getting ready for Hister, you see - there’s going to be another war you know.”
He looked thoughtful for a moment.
“Of course the big worry at the moment is Edward’s love life.”
Jonas said, “Why didn’t you tell us, Evans, that the bomber was on its way?”
Evans said, “I wasn’t sure they could make it this far. And even if they did I wasn’t sure if they would find the Kraken when they got here. False hope is worse than no hope at all...”
Jonas looked distinctly unimpressed. I think he would have preferred false hope over no hope at any time.
The two planes flew over to the west of us, and away, but as they did several large barrels dropped into the water.
Evans commented, “I asked them to drop off some diesel as well, Zelf. We’ve got fuel and supplies.”
Zelf bared her teeth in a wolfish smile. “Well done, Evans.”
Evans smiled back at her.
He said, “It wasn’t the Alpha of Alphas this time, was it?”
Zelf said, “Oh, yes it was. Do you think the Alpha of Alphas needs you to believe in him, for him to work through you?” She gently cuffed him on the shoulder with her paw.
Evans gave a funny, half-satisfied harrumph, and Zelf started up the engines towards a small group of barrels bobbing up and down in the ocean to the west.
Interloup Thirty One - The Problem
Zev
“I’ll come with you to get the barrels, Zelf,” said Zev.
But Zelf said, “No - you stay here. I’ll take Jonas with me.”
Zev was deflated. He felt something was wrong - Zelf did not seem to want to be with him - had he done something wrong? He simply didn’t know.
While Zelf and Jonas collected the barrels, Zev and Troy went with Evans to the radio room. After reporting to home office and checking the present latitude and longitude, Evans fired up his Ætheric Detector again.
Within half an hour he had identified the latitude, longitude and declination of the ley intersection.
Zelf and Jonas came in, looking invigorated, with damp clothes and damp hair.
Zelf said, “So you’ve found the Ætheric portal, Evans?”
Evans replied, “I have. Sixty seven degrees two minutes north, three degrees twenty two minutes west, at a declension of zero point one two five degrees.”
Zelf said as she headed upstairs, “Then that is where we are heading. It’s less than an hour away.”
Zelf entered the bridge and the engines began throbbing. Evans stayed in the radio room, but the rest of them went upstairs and joined Zelf.
She submerged after about fifteen minutes, heading downwards at an angle of about forty degrees.
After a forty minute descent, Zelf decreased the throttle to a mild throb and the submarine began circling.
She said, “Jonas, go and tell Evans we’re here.”
Evans was up in a flash.
Evans said, “We’re very close, but there’s a problem. I was able to calculate the circumference of the crack at its widest point. It’s far too narrow for the submarine to pass through.”
Zev asked, “What are we going to do?”
Zelf replied, “I have Le Prieur apparatus’. Underwater gear. Someone can swim through, when it opens up fully...”
Zev said, “But that means you’ll have to leave your submarine behind...”
Zelf ignored Zev’s comment; it seemed to him to be quite a pointed act of neglect, completely intentional. He had no idea why she was doing this to him, cutting him out like this.
Zelf said, “I have a handheld ætheric detector, Evans.” And she wasn’t talking to Zev - she was talking to the others.
Zelf continued, “It doesn’t work on this side of the divide. But in some of the other worlds, it does work - how do you think I got trapped here? - we should be able to find another place where the ætheric divide is thin, and bring the submarine back through there, if we can.”
Evans nodded. “It’s a risk, Zelf. You might not be able to get back. You might be abandoning your submarine.”
She thought for a moment. “Perhaps you’re right. If that’s the case I need to find a different place to go through.”
Evans said, “I think we should swim down to it, using your Le Prieur suits. See whether the entrance is clear, unobstructed, in the open sea - it ought to be - but you never know. And there’s another thing - the ætheric vibration is almost completely closed - at the moment it’s on the expanding part of its phase. It won’t even be large enough for a human for at least twenty days, maybe more. But it might be large enough for the submarine to pass through at its biggest circumference.”
“The New Moon,” said Zelf, aghast. “That’s the New Moon.”
Zev looked at her - she really had said that in a tone of distinct displeasure - it reminded him of the tone of voice he supposed that he used when when talking about the Full Moon. What was this?
Zev asked her, “What is it you don’t like about the New Moon, Zelf?” But, once again, she ignored him completely and brushed past him.
Zev left the bridge and went to his cabin. He had no idea why Zelf wasn’t talking to him. He tried to think back. What had he said? What had he done wrong? He couldn’t work it out.
She was offended about something, he was sure of it.
But as it happened, there wasn’t time to worry about this.
Evans’ voice came over the koinophone, “Everyone come to the... er... the room where the boat is. We are at the ley intersecton. The submarine is now within twenty feet of the crack in the æther.”
Zev looked out of the port-hole.
He estimated they were about three hundred feet below the surface of the ocean right now. The middle of the water shimmered to the north-east of the submarine and he wondered if that was the crack in the æther, the ‘ley intersection’, that Evans was talking about.
What was going to happen now? Zelf was the one for him - he just knew that it was true - but it seemed as though she was
n’t talking to him. He was very concerned about it. Could destiny change?
It would all work out - that was the simple fact of the matter. He knew that it must. He had to believe that.
But all the same, he had a strange feeling that he had forgotten something, something important. What could it be?
Interloup Thirty Two - Le Prieur’s Apparatus
Troy
I met with the others at the boat.
Zelf had already opened a large metal cabinet - it contained a strange kind of apparatus I had never seen before - circular face masks, attached by flexible hoses to cylindrical bottles, with a kind of harness on them, clearly designed to be hung over the shoulders. One of the face masks was shaped like a wolf’s face - it had clearly been adapted for Zelf.
Beside these were flexible suits, and footwear that resembled webbed frog’s feet.
Zelf said, “Le Prieur’s Scaphandre Autonome - a special apparatus for breathing underwater. The tanks contain oxygen - I added some special designs of my own - for me, a face mask that fits. And I added an automatic regulator - the delivery of the appropriate ratio of gases is somewhat hard to manage the way the device was originally designed.”
Zev said, “Ingenious. Very clever work, Zelf.” But she ignored him still.
She handed out the gear, one each to Evans, Jonas and me, but then she got hers and started showing us how to put them on, ignoring Zev. Zev said, “Ahem - ah - and one for me?” And I noticed that she made a point of handing out the last one to Zev insultingly casually.
“I’ve offended her,” Zev said to no one in particular. “I’m not sure what I’ve said or done. But I must have offended her.”
Zev put on his suit next to me, he and I were the slowest. The others were waiting for us in the boat.
I whispered to Zev, “What’s wrong with Zelf?”
“I honestly don’t know,” he whispered back. “I wouldn’t have a clue. She seems to have a bee in her bonnet about something. I think she’s ignoring me.”
Zelf pressed the button on the wall panel and the ocean rushed in. We rowed the boat out to where the crack in the æther was.
Zelf said, “One of us will have to stay in the boat, to keep it from moving away from this place.”
Evans said he would stay behind. She showed him a small device that would let him know if the boat had moved - it correlated the magnetic field of the earth against the æther, or somesuch thing.
The rest of us dove over the side of the boat and swam downwards, following Zelf’s lead.
The surveilling of the crack in the æther took less than twenty minutes.
We found it. It was in an unobstructed part of the sea about eight feet below the surface of the water.
In the water it was only barely visible - an unnaturally bright patch, as though sunlight was shining underwater. If you stared at it for a long while you could just see that it actually looked like a crack, in mid-water.
It was very thin.
We swam back to the boat and made our way back to the submarine.
When we got there Zelf went to the galley and made everyone cups of tea, but she neglected to make Zev one.
He made his own from the leftover water in the teapot.
Evans said, “Well, there it is. Now all we must do is wait.”
“Twenty days, you say?” said Zelf. “So will it really happen when the New Moon comes around?” She seemed to be afraid of something.
Evans said, “I suppose so. If that really is twenty days away.”
Zev said, “What is wrong with the New Moon?”
But Zelf sipped her cup of tea and continued ignoring him4.
Interloup Thirty Three - Shame of the Dark Night of the Moon Month
Zelf
Zelf’s mind cogitated around her great shame, the unmentionable thing that happened to her every New Moon, the thing she didn’t like to talk about or think about or remember.
She didn’t so much think about it as much as think around it, or, more accurately, avoid thinking about it.
And it certainly wasn’t only that she didn’t want to talk to Zev, but that she didn’t want to think about the things he was asking, and the implications of him leaving through the Ætheric Portal, and she would rather avoid him, even in that small, confined space of the submarine where it was nearly impossible to avoid anybody, than talk to him about that.
It was her great shame, and as they waited in the Submarine for the day when the crack in the æther would open wide enough, she kept herself to herself. Truth be told, she had almost despaired of her love for Zev, for he could not, would not accept her - she had long feared that - on the one hand she knew he would not accept her if he knew the shameful truth about her and the New Moon.
But it wasn’t only that.
Well it was, really. The fact is, she didn’t trust him about the New Moon thing because she had stopped trusting him about anything.
That was because he had lied to her5.
Earlier. He had told her that he was an orphan. And he wasn’t.
The days and nights passed underwater to the sound of throbbing engines and hissing water-pipes.
They played card games and chess in the mess hall and talked through the nights about insignificant things, sports games and politics, but Zelf continued to avoid Zev.
Evans watched the Ætheric detectors for a few hours every day to monitor how the Ætheric crack was growing, and they ate their way through her stores and went fishing to replenish them.
And so the dreaded time of the New Moon came closer and closer.
They were all excited on the day of the New Moon, except Zelf and Zev.
After a time in the radio room examining the data Evans came up and said, “The crack is almost wide enough for us to pass through, one at a time. But I’m afraid it is not wide enough for the submarine to go through.”
But Zelf excused herself.
She said, “I cannot go through. Someone has to look after the submarine. I will need to find a different place to go through, a place where the crack in the æther is large enough for the submarine to go through.”
That night the moon rose early, a dark, inscrutable disc.
Zelf withdrew to her room as the dreaded time began.
A knock came at the door, a half an hour after her time of shame had begun.
She cried out, “Go away.”
It was Zev’s voice. “Please - I need to talk to you, Zelf.”
“No. I can’t speak now. Talk to me again tomorrow or the next day.” She paused and then said, “Oh, I forgot, you will be gone anyhow. Too bad about that.”
“Please. You’ve been ignoring me - I need to know why.”
Zelf said very firmly, “Go away.”
Zev said just as firmly, “I can just wait here until you’re ready to open the door.”
Zelf said, “No. I can’t bear the thought that you’re standing there. Leave me alone, it's alright. Just go.” To her own ears she sounded weak, like a wolf that had been bested in the leadership stakes.
Zev’s voice didn’t waver, though. For once he sounded like an Alpha. “No. I won’t leave. I am your friend, Zelf, no matter what. I know I am very imperfect - a very imperfect… human being. I make mistakes all the time, grievous mistakes. But I care about you. And I’m not going to leave you… abandon you… without saying goodbye. Not without knowing what this is all about…”
She put on her cloak and pulled the hood over her head, and turned off the light. Then she took her chair to the far corner of the room, and sat there in the darkness. Then she howled a little and said, “Come in then. Just for a minute.”
Zev opened the door and peered in. His hand went to the light switch but Zelf said, “No. Don’t turn on the light. Come in and close the door behind you. I’m staying here. You sit there, but no closer.”
Zev went in, closing the door behind him.
He sat on her bed and looked over a
t her, hiding in the corner.
Interloup Thirty Four - Reflection
Zev
Zev said, “Evans says the Ætheric Gateway is open. We can go through. From the asymptote of the curve - whatever that means - he estimates it will be closed again by morning.”
Zelf replied, “I’m not coming, Zev. I must stay here. I need to find a different Ætheric Gateway, one big enough for the submarine to go through.”
Zev peered at her. He couldn’t see her - it was almost as though she had shrunk into the corner of her room, and was hiding herself in the shadows there. He said, “What’s wrong, Zelf? Why are you sitting in the darkness? Why are you hiding from me? Not talking to me?”
Zelf said, “I haven’t been ignoring you. It’s not you. It doesn’t matter. Well there was something but I know you are just a human, a weak, wrong human and that explains a lot about you. You are a fallen creature and I suppose I shouldn’t expect too much of you. Just say what you want to say quickly, and then leave. I don’t like talking to anyone - at this time - the time of my shame - the time of the New Moon. Make it quick, Zev. Then just go.”
Zev said, “What is it, Zelf? I know something’s wrong but if you don’t tell me, how can I fix it up.”
He could just see her shaking her head. She said, “Why should I believe what you’re saying?”
Zev said, “How would you ever think that I could lie to you?” And then he remembered that he already had.
Zelf’s voice sounded plaintive in the dark room, coming from the her hiding place in the corner. She said, “You that you had an unhappy childhood like mine.”
Zev didn’t know how he could possibly explain to her why he had lied to her - how could he tell her? He would have to tell her that he loved her - he would have to tell her that this was why he lied to her. But he didn’t even know where to begin.
Zev could feel his face grimacing as he spoke. “I said that my childhood was something like yours.”
It sounded so inadequate, so he tried to explain, to justify himself, but this was what came out:
“When my parents disowned me, because I had found out the truth, every bit of love they showed me, every good, happy time in my childhood no longer meant anything. Their love depended upon the fact that I did what they told me to do. They did not care about me at all. On the cusp of my adulthood I became an orphan. They had no desire to know me or acknowledge me as their son when I stepped outside of their narrow set of rules.”
She bared her teeth, and he wasn’t sure what it meant. Was it a hostile gesture, or a grimace of pain? And she said, “But Zev.... How can I trust anything you say now?”
Zev said, “What do you mean?” He felt as though his heart was in his mouth. His whole body felt heavy, unnatural, he could barely breathe, and he felt himself rocking to the side. He had to hold onto the table to stop himself from falling off the chair.
His voice came out in a high squeak, “What are you talking about?”
She almost howled, “Zev - it is like that story - the wolf who cried boy. You said something to me that wasn’t true. How can I trust anything you say now? How can I believe you, when you lied to me about something that was so important to me…! I thought - I justified it to myself - I thought you might have had something of an unhappy cubhood, and yet I find none of it was true. I thought at least a little of it might have been true.” She fixed him with her golden eyes and said, “Even the elves don’t lie.”
Zev said, “I’m sorry. I’m very, very sorry.”
Zelf said, “I suppose I must forgive you, for you are only a poor, weak human being, given to faults and sins. I forgive you, Zev. But don’t do it again. Ever. Don’t ever lie to me again.”
Then she thought for a moment, and Zev could almost see the cogs moving inside her head.
Zelf said, very slowly and deliberately, “Zev. There is something - something you haven’t told me - I know it, Zev, I’m certain of it. Something you were muttering about - when you fall asleep in the galley - something about a prophecy. About a wolf-maiden. What is this?”
Zev said, “I wasn’t going to tell you, yet. It’s not the right time.”
Zelf said, “Tell me. Please. I think you owe me this, Zev. You’ve given enough hints. I want to know the whole story.”
At that moment, Evans’ voice sounded from outside the door; “Time to go, Zev!”
That was when Zev noticed that Zelf was holding something pink in her paws. And she was wearing something, underneath her hood, was it a veil, or a scarf? - a hint of purple, he thought. Pale purple.
Or pink.
What is it? he thought.
Evans repeated, "Hurry up, Zev. We're going."
Zev snapped, "Just a moment!" He couldn’t stop the irritation from sounding in his voice.
It was then that he noticed Zelf’s reflection in the mirror, he could see it from the side. Her paws were much clearer, he could see it if he just turned his head...
It was not that she was holding something pink - it was...
Zev suddenly gave a start and fell back from his seat on the bed, onto the floor and said, “I... can’t believe my eyes. Is it possible? Wait... Zelf - you have hands! What is this? I don’t understand!"
Zelf sobbed into her hands.
Zev stood up and moved forward and put his hand on her shoulder, very, very gently.
“It’s alright, Zelf. Whatever it is, I don’t mind. You know every shameful thing about me. You know that I am a weak human, that I am a werewolf.”
She said, quite seriously, “But… I don’t see why you’re ashamed of that. That is something you should be proud of.”
He couldn’t stop staring at the mirror, at her human hands. He said, “What does it mean, though? What is this?”
After a long, long while, she finally said, in a quiet whisper, “It’s... my terrible shame, Zev. It’s not anything I have done. It is what I am.”
“What is it Zelf? You can say it, whatever it is.”
Zelf said, “I am a werehuman.” She sobbed as though there could be no greater shame on the face of the earth than this.
Zev scratched his head.
“A werehuman? What on earth is that?”
Zelf took off the cowl that covered her face. The beautiful elfin face of a human female looked back at Zev, with dark hair and skin as pale as the moon. The only part of her that remained wolfish were her two furry ears, sticking up behind her head, and her large, golden, sorrowful eyes.
Zelf said, “I turn into this monster every month - every time the moon hides his face I lose my wolfish loveliness and become this - my lovely fur disappears and is replaced by this pale, ugly skin, and this hair on my head, my paws becomes these horrid things -” She held up her hands - it gave Zev a strange, twisting feeling in his stomach when he noticed that she only had three fingers.
She almost wailed, “See? It is the reason I left the First Den. I am a monster, Zev, a monster.”
Zev said, ”You mustn't say that, Zelf. I'm the same as you, basically - I turn into a wolf every month, you know that."
She looked shocked, as though he had said something that was almost blasphemous. She said, ”But that's an improvement. You are fortunate. You have a great gift. Mine is a handicap, an illness, like leprosy in your world.”
Zev hardly knew what to say. Zelf clearly thought that wolves were not monsters at all, but humans were, and she would tolerate him, even though he was monstrous. How could he argue with that kind of mindset?
For a moment he was lost for words, but the silence became uncomfortable, so he said, “How did it happen?”
“H’ran, one of our number, left the First Den and went to the other worlds, many years ago. He was away for a very long time. H’ran returned eventually. Seven moons orbit my world, and although the time when all seven are dark new moons, or over the horizon, is rare - but as you can imagine with seven moons there are individual new moons fairly frequently. And up
on the very first new moon after H’ran returned, it was discovered that he had contracted this disease."
"How?" asked Zev.
"He turned into a human. It was the most shameful thing that had ever happened to anyone, ever, in First Den. Humans are the monsters in all the fairytales in my world, and there are parables and proverbs about humans - for instance the 'Three Little Cubs' tells of an evil farmer who blows up the house of straw and the house of wood with a magical substance called gunpowder. There is a story called 'The Wolf Who Cried Boy', which warns cubs not to give false warnings, and the story of 'Little Red Riding Wolf' tells of a cub who discovers her grandmother was shot by a hunter, who took her skin and hid inside it, to try and catch the cub. Crazed, evil, unnatural creatures, these humans are, with no fur and no proper snout, creatures with clutching, grasping monkey fingers instead of proper paws and eyes that are not golden."
"What happened to H'ran?"
"H'ran went mad, he lost his mind - I believe it was caused by his sense of shame before First Den, I don’t think his madness was caused by any mental effects of the disease - at least, I believe it could not have been an effect of the disease, for I have had the disease for four years now and it has not affected me in this way." She looked doubtful for a moment. "At least, not to my knowledge."
“You’re not insane. But... How did you get infected? What happened to you, Zelf?”
Zelf sighed and continued, “It was my job to look after him. It was the task given me, by the alpha wolves, for my First Howling Ceremony - my coming of age, through which every cub must pass to become an adult - in his madness H'ran bit me and I contracted the disease. I left First Den as soon as I found out. I was so ashamed. Every New Moon, I lose my beautiful appearance and become this!” She held her hands out to show him, and took the hood off her face, and burst into tears.
Zev took her hand in his very tenderly. “But Zelf - I can't believe that you're worried at all about this - you are very beautiful in this form - as much as the other form, perhaps even more - you make a terrific sight, really. Really, really terrific.”
“-do you really, truly find me so?” She wasn’t sure any more. He seemed honest, but he had lied to her earlier, and she had believed him. She really wasn’t sure if she believed him at all.
“Yes - truly - I do - I really do - but I simply can’t understand why you feel ashamed of turning into a human? There must be more to it than the monster thing..."
She shook her head.
“Any more shame than you seem to have felt ashamed of turning into a wolf? Yes, don't lie, you told me you did. But don’t you understand that humans are monsters to us, even in our religion? Welfing sacred writings tell us that entropy entered the first universe because of humans - humans who disobeyed the Alpha of Alphas - and that is where the sorrows of all the Fallen Worlds began. Humans are bloodthirsty, unnatural creatures - they make war on one another and kill their own kind and sometimes even eat them - humans are selfish and greedy cannibals and savages - come, Zev, you cannot deny any of this…”
She put the final nail in Zev’s coffin, when she said, “And they are liars.”
Zev said, “Have I lied to you? About what? Perhaps I have. I’m not sure. But Zelf… that… that is not the whole story of humans - there is goodness and heroism too among my race. And I'm not sure about this story about entropy - you must explain it to me in detail some time. And look at how beautiful you are..." His voice seemed to fail, to fade away...
She looked at Zev with a queer, mixed-up expression on her face.
“You almost make it alright. It is strange that it takes the help of a monster to stop me from feeling like a monster..." A tear splashed onto her cheek and she gave another howl, and seemed terribly vulnerable to him. She said, “I don’t know whether to believe you what you’re saying…”
Evans’ muffled voice broke into our conversation, “Come on, Zev! It’s time to go! Hurry up!”
Zev said, "Zelf, you're coming, aren't you?"
Zelf replied, “I must stay here."
Zev cried out, “But how will we find our way back here? How will we find our way back to you? We will be lost in the other world. I can’t leave! I can’t!”
Evans muffled voice said, “Come on!”
Zev stamped his foot and said, “You know, I don’t see why I have to go with them. Why should Evans order me around? I could stay here with you, if you want me to. We could try to find another, larger ætheric gateway together, that the Submarine can go through. Dammit, why should Evans think he can tell me what to do?”
Zelf said, “Evans has some sort of hold over you, doesn’t he, Zev?”
Zev said, “He does. He had me released from the asylum. He could probably get me put back in. He wants me to go with them to translate for them, Zelf.”
She said, “So you have to go with him, if you ever want to go home again?”
He took her face in his hands and kissed her gently on the forehead, as one would kiss a child. And after that she touched Zev’s cheek gently with her hand; her skin was so soft and un-wolf-like, and somehow with this gesture Zev knew that, whatever it was that she was angry at him about, she had forgiven him.
A heart full of wisdom…
And he left, feeling the deep wrongness of his going, but being unable to think of any arguments against it that he could say.
And Zelf sat there wondering if she had just made the worst mistake of her life by not trying to talk him into staying.
Footnotes
Footnote 1
There is some indication that truthfulness was one of the character traits of the mysterious person to whom Denethon wrote his poems; indeed, her honesty seems to be one of the peculiar preoccupations of his paeans to her.
Incorruptible
Your incorruptible honesty,
though it puts bumps and detours in your train-line
Is a quality
so sterling it makes you, like silver, to shine
A bullet train, that, right from the very start
pierced my very heart.
77. (of the 199 poems)
In you at last
Truth is beauty
And beauty, truth
Alchemist
You are my soul’s alchemist:
You take the dross of leaden days
And turn the moments into gold.
You meet my lonely, sodden ways,
So God in you I may behold.
Transforming vision, through your eyes,
Earth, sun, moon and stars are new,
Your spirit makes me realise
The world’s a thorn, the rose is you,
And though all men lie, you will be true.
Knowing you, my spirit’s kissed,
And my heart’s alive with joy, that you exist.
Back to Text
Footnote 2
How he came to be there is a story Denethon doesn’t tell, though supposedly he was intending to tell it…
Back to Text
Footnote 3
It seems that hot chocolate is not poisonous for Welfings or werewolves. Chocolate is, however, poisonous to most canines, which seems to indicate that Welfing and werewolf possess digestive systems somewhat different from other canines.
Back to Text
Footnote 4
There are hints in Denethon’s poems of a breakdown in communications, something like this, perhaps:
Tears
God makes the rain, pure water, fall from the skies;
We make salty tears fall from each other’s eyes.
God collects our tears, in a bottle he will keep them
He counts every single one, even as we weep them.
In the Desert
In the desert of my loneliness I wander
Like the Israelites, who out of Egypt came,
I look for signs in mountain fires and thunder
And in my thirst for companionship
I complain.
I cast the lonely days back in His teeth
I tell Him, You’re the one that made it so
I say, “You are the one that gave me all this grief”
I tell Him, “You’re the one that gave the sign
That she would be the one who’d marry me.”
And then, God’s comfort fills my soul,
I know
I know.
Back to Text
Footnote 5
Amongst Welfings the vice of untruthfulness has always been completely unknown, ever since the beginning of the Welfing world, in the First Forest, when Snake had lied to Hai Ηαι, the first Wowelfing**, who had refused to believe Snake’s lies, but had killed Snake instead and had eaten him. Hai had been afraid and had hidden in the garden, worried that Ellulianæn would be unhappy with her for killing the snake, but the Highest was glad with her deed and commended her for her faithfulness to Him.