It was not long after we had a brief rest within the Red Building, as Neville called it, that we were once more on the trail leading into the inky, light-lined darkness. All was eerily still here, save for the occasional patch of rubble and the odd gust of inexplicable wind. That is, until one of our number accidentally kicked a stone and sent it skittering into the chasm below... it was so quick we barely had time to react, the vague sight of something enormous rising up from beneath with the languid nature of a balloon rising. We all dove for cover in the shadows, knowing what was coming, pulling the old woman Enala with us as we did. We assumed we were safe when the polyp-like creature soared over us to disappear back below, as it had not seen us, but then we noticed the old woman was pale, shaken-looking...
"Enala, are you okay?" McCloud asked, and she turned to face him, eyes betraying a mind shocked beyond belief.
"That is not Rainbow Snake's doing," I heard her murmur, voice all too calm. "That is the power of Sand-Bat. That is his doing. Rainbow Snake cannot reach this far below. In this dry darkness, Sand-Bat is more powerful. He is god here. He is god..."
I realized the crisis of faith she was having, and attempted to calm her, but could not help but notice my own feelings on the matter. The Red-Tongued One is wicked, and multiform, and very much powerful. I have seen his power firsthand, first in Shanghai and now again here. What if Enala is correct, and he is the only god in our small universe? Could such a terrible thing be, that the only god of man that exists is one of cruelty, one who crafted all beliefs as falsehoods, one who played the greatest trick of all upon mankind from the time of the first tribes?
No. I must not believe this. I cannot believe this. That way, madness lies, and I will not entertain such thoughts.
McCloud pointed the way, and we followed. Soon the sound of mining was heard, and from ahead the sound of orders being barked in a tongue not similar to any of ours. Enala recognized it as another Aboriginal tribe's language, and soon we found the source as we skulked in the shadows - a large group of oddly glassy-eyed working men, women, and children, all idly mining the nearby wall to obtain... what? Minerals? I saw none, nor diamonds, gold, or anything else of value. Perhaps they were digging a tunnel, but to where? I do not know, as I could not read any minds behind their eyes. They were bewitched, it seemed, and the two slavers following them with whips would surely not tell us if we asked. Nothing could be done for these poor souls, and so we only had the choice of continuing forward and praying we were not captured.
It was not long before we finally came to some sort of lead - a bright and unearthly orange glow from within a vast alien structure, altogether different from the lines of light and the glowing from the red plaza we'd seen before. It was warm, inviting, friendly... and enticing. Like moths to flame we approached the small enclosed structure, covered with odd spiraling marks, marks which Neville swore he was able to read. "The sick bay," he said, tone reverent for the first time I have ever heard it. The awe in his voice was palpable, and infectious - what did he see when his mind was displaced through time? What did he know that we did not?
Curiosity gripped us, and we entered. Inside, the room was not unlike an alien doctor's office, a metal table gleaming with strange attached tools I could not identify. They were made of a shimmering, purplish-silver metal, harder than any I had ever seen. It would be invaluable if taken, but I was unable to remove it for scrap as it was bolted down. On one side was a sort of console as for a telephone switchboard or telegraph machine, with a vast screen of a sort on top and another dominating the wall behind.
"They did their scientific work here," Neville murmured, his hand caressing the strange levers and buttons with fondness. "The doctors of the Great Race. They could cure any sort of cancer... bloody cancer. They could heal any wound, repair any cut seamlessly, regrow any lost limb or organ..."
"That is incredible, but how do you know all this?" Ludwig asked, raising an eyebrow in skepticism. "I know you were there in their time, at least mentally, but where was this knowledge when we first asked you about what happened?"
"That's just it," the Australian replied. "I don't know. It came to me as soon as I stepped inside, I just... remembered. I remembered being in here once, being ill and taken care of here. The memories of that time, they're coming back to me very slowly... like torn out scrapbook pages glued back into place."
"That's interesting," interrupted McCloud, "But there's another issue we have here - I was scouting ahead into the other room, and I saw what I think is some sort of prison cell. It's covered in these bizarre locks of all sorts, and I can't make heads nor tails of any of them. Come here, I'll show you."
Of course, we followed, and he was right. Next to what appeared to have been a rewired fuse box that McCloud had pried open, there was a barred door with all sorts of human and alien-looking locks on it blocking passage into another room. In that room we saw a tube, large and glowing orange, and in the tube we saw a vague silhouette of something conic. On the floor, burnt rubber of some sort lay scattered on the floor.
"You see that fuse box on the other wall?" the pilot said, indicating it. "There was also some sort of electrical barrier up a few more feet down this hall here, and after some tinkering with the fuse box I got it to disappear. If you're wondering about how I grounded myself, well... I had some 'souvenirs' from my time in Shanghai at Mei-lin's workplace. Figured they'd come in handy for more than just the obvious."
"McCloud, that is brilliant!" Ludwig extolled. "I would not have thought of that."
"Yeah, they teach that to you Yanks in the army, then?" Neville remarked sarcastically, though I think even he was secretly impressed. Never let it be said that McCloud has not taught me anything!
Clever moves not withstanding, the locks still needed picking, and that fell to Neville. He made short work of them, and soon the door was opened. Inside, the tube opened, and revealed the cone-like shape, a shape we had seen before. It was like watching an anemone unfurl or an alien flower bloom as the four limbs - two claws, a siphon-like organ, and a head with three reddish eyes - extruded themselves, much to poor old Enala's shock. I think one of these days, her travels with us shall kill her. Even more shocking, however, was Neville's sudden reverent reaction to the massive conic being we had come to know as a member of the Great Race that had built this once proud city beneath the sands.
"Kakakatak, sir!" He exclaimed, and the alien was silent. Then, we heard a comforting voice within all of our heads, and a sound somewhat like a chuckle, as if the being were reading our very thoughts and projecting its own into our minds. Perhaps, that is precisely what it was doing...
"It has been a very long time, Neville Harris... although perhaps not very long at all for you," the being replied in amusement and something like relief. Its unblinking red eyes focused on us, and the color of its hide shifted to blue in an oddly chameleon-like manner. "I did not expect to see you again so soon... or in such bizarre and dire circumstances as these. I trust that you must remember your time with us now?"
Neville's eyes widened then, and a sense of comprehension came over him suddenly before he spoke once more. "Yes sir," he said, voice very serious and tinged with a sense of what may have been relief. "I remember... everything. You taught me so much, and gave me even more... so much that you had to erase my memories of it for my own safety. But why are you here? How are you here?"
The alien, Kakakatak as we came to know him, was more than happy to explain. There was a man, he said, a Robert Huston; this man had somehow found a way, through magic, to bring him into the present day, and he had been captive here since. The being himself wished only to return home, but had been forced to aid Huston in a truly terrible thing - the creation of blueprints for an explosive device capable of leveling cities, just like the one we found in Shanghai. Both I and McCloud recognized Huston's name, and realized we knew his connection to the cult of the Bloated Woman... and to Nyarlathotep himself. He had even revitalized the Sand-Bat cult here in Australia. So this is where Huston had gone after the Carlyle Expedition had scattered, if Brady's statement before were to be believed!
Not only was Huston a cult leader now, but he had used the being's great knowledge for the purpose of rewiring one of the very devices used to remove Neville's memories. Now instead of removing simply a bit of a person's mind, it removed everything, leaving the victim a shell. Kakakatak told us that this was what the miners we had seen were - kidnapped victims of this process - but should we find the device itself, he could likely rewire it to its true purpose and restore these people's memories. Rage built in me as I realized the injustice, and I could see the others becoming livid as well. I am no saint, but even I am not so jaded or evil as to find enslavement acceptable...
"Do you know where his base of operations here is, Kakakatak?" Ludwig asked, eyes already narrowed in anger.
"Yes, and it is not far," the alien replied. "If you will aid me in seeking the information I require to return to my own time, I will aid you. The information should be in the Great Library here, however finding it may take some time if the Huston-human has not taken it... a few days to two weeks at the most. Do you accept this?"
We agreed this was reasonable, and with this, yet another odd ally was gained. As we left the 'sick bay', as Neville had called it, Kakakatak paused to open a panel in the wall, one we had not seen before, and removed a sort of bizarre rifle-like object. It glowed odd symbols on its surface, and had two grips, with its trigger on the far end. The alien told us this was a sort of weapon made to shoot electricity, and that it was necessary for protection from the enormous cancerous things that had murdered Lucas so long ago now. I can see why he was wary - if it could shred apart Lucas so easily, then it surely could have destroyed him.
The trip was not too much further, and we found no fewer troubles. As we approached the location the being gave us, we saw immediately what we sought - a great warehouse-like structure of several floors, embedded into the wall itself and well lit. All paths converged upon it - and not far from this structure, approximately across from it and behind us, was a great glowing purple dome. Kakakatak said it was once a meeting place and great hall, the center of governance for the Great Race, but now it had been profaned as a temple to Sand-Bat. Neville was particularly distraught with this, perhaps because he knew it before the city's fall... Regardless, we had our mission, we had a plan to have Kakakatak guard the area while we searched, and we knew who and what we sought out. Now, it was only a matter of time and effort.
The first floor was storage, with a conspicuous metal set of rail-less stairs heading upwards. On further inspection, we uncovered weapons (far too many for us to carry), boxes of dynamite, and mining tools, all things we would have expected for an operation such as this. But what was Huston uncovering down here, and why? Had Sand-Bat put him up to this? What could be so important in a dead city that he would desire so much? These questions only remained uncomfortably unanswered as we headed upstairs, where we discovered true misery.
In cages welded from steel railings repurposed for such a task were many, many prisoners - some white, some Aboriginal, all insane and sobbing and screaming in pitiful torment from what they had witnessed this awful cult do. One cage contained nothing save for pregnant women, all equally as insane, and it was this cage that caught my emotions in particular. Then Dr. Hildebrand gasped in alarm, and ran to the cage. When I followed, I soon realized why - one of the women was having a particularly difficult birth, screaming more than would be normal. I could not in good conscience leave her and the child to die, and so I drew upon my tribe's knowledge of medicine to aid her, while Dr. Hildebrand drew upon his medical training and expertise.
The others reacted with horror, but for myself, it was different. It was as if I had birthed a child of my own, and the being seemed to reciprocate, for it squeaked in something like joy and climbed upon my breast and remained there, curled up and resting. I sensed that Dr. Hildebrand had similar feelings to my own, and he in fact did back up my decision to keep the child when the others insisted I be rid of it. Perhaps I am crazy, but I could not abandon that newborn, no matter how associated with Sand-Bat it was. I have been abandoned and tossed aside by society enough myself, and I would never do it to another despite their background, even one as strange as this. I named the child Ufiti, a word in my tongue which means "Mysterious One", for it was a strange being indeed - although Dr. Hildebrand wanted to name it Erik.
Much arguing later, we got on with our mission, Ufiti having fallen asleep during the discussion and snuggled into my clothing for warmth. On the third and final floor, we found an office - and therein discovered where Huston had been doing his dirty work. There were shelves lined with books, many of them in languages I did not know and some in those strange glyphs Neville could read. One corner had a kitchen, bedding, and some storage. One wall was dominated by a window overlooking the plazas of this strange city, and beneath that window was a workbench upon which rested an onyx idol of Sand-Bat, along with a strange-looking metal helmet-like device, hastily reworked from alien material. In the center, and what drew my eye most, however, was a desk with many papers, and on this desk was a sheaf of them thicker than the rest, barely banded together with string.
"McCloud, look at this," I pointed out, and he took them up to read them.
"These glyphs on the books," Neville responded, "They're more of the Great Race's language. These are their books... the bloody bastard stole them! Why, if I ever see that cunt's face, I'll kill him!"
"It's just as well." McCloud spread the sheaf of paper out on the desk, and pointed to them. "You might wanna read these. This guy thinks he's a god amongst men, and he talks an awful lot about some of the Carlyle Expedition people as well as some of the devices the Great Race had. That metal helmet, according to this, is some sort of memory-eraser, probably like the kind they must have used on you Neville."
"Sounds right." The Australian stepped over to the desk and pored over the notes. "Looks like what they used too, but hodge-podged together all yarra. Like he rewired it. I bet Kakakatak would know how to fix it."
"Perhaps," I said, moving closer, and that is the last I was able to say before I felt a sudden sharp sting in my neck. I looked up in alarm, only to see McCloud with a regretful look on his face, and Dr. Hildebrand's hand on my shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Chief," McCloud murmured, and my vision began to blur. "But this is for your own good. That thing you took... it's too dangerous. We can't risk it."
I had no chance to react before I fell into a deep sleep, unconscious and unable to fight back. The traitors! When I awoke, I was bound, and Ufiti had landed upon my back and was licking my shoulder for some reason. McCloud was speaking to Huston at his desk, where two Aboriginal men with the notorious Sand-Bat sigil upon their arms and armed with those strange rifles Kakakatak had waited to guard the remainder of us. Then I realized I was bleeding from a gash on my shoulder, and moving it sent pain through it - was that what Ufiti was licking at? I could not tell, but as soon as I awoke and was conscious enough I swore profusely in my native tongue - something which greatly amused Huston.
"I see all of your friends are awake now," Huston gloated, smiling all too cheerfully. "How wonderful! Perhaps now we can all have a polite discussion about your new careers as brainless mine-workers."
"Over my dead body, ya cunt!" Neville squirmed in bindings of his own, rage burning in his eyes so hot I thought they might sear through the ropes. McCloud took this opportunity to continue the distraction, allowing Huston to monologue. At this point, Ufiti must have sensed I was awake, for it began to chew through my bindings and soon made quick work of them. Then I was able to release the others, and with Dr. Hildebrand, sneak into hiding. From there, the Good Doctor aimed, shot, and hit Huston square in the shoulder. He of course noticed, and spun around to see us as we stood, weapons ready.
"You clever little bastards," he painfully muttered, half-laughing through his gritted teeth, "You got me monologuing, didn't you?"
McCloud didn't let him have a second chance to speak before putting another bullet in his head, ending him. Upon this happening, mass chaos erupted in the office as the two Aboriginal men took up their weapons, but at that very moment, we saw a familiar sight - a certain lightning gun holding, tall, conic alien that stunned the two guards. "You..." was all that one got out of his mouth before the gun began to hum and whir, and a blinding crackle of energy shot from it, incinerating both men. I have never personally been so grateful to see a man die in my life, or to live to slap McCloud for his earlier traitorous behavior.
Of course, Kakakatak did not approve of Ufiti either, telling me it was dangerous to keep a child of Sand-Bat and that trying to bring it from the cavern would anger the god in question. Regrettably, I realized he was correct - we were of two worlds, and I could not in good conscience bring this child into a world that could not abide it. It would be cruel - the only thing for it was to put the child into the pit with its brethren, or to otherwise find another to take care of it. Perhaps the temple in the middle of the city could offer some method of releasing it into the wild? McCloud certainly seemed adamant on observing it before we left. It was settled then - we would go to the temple, and release Ufiti there.
When Neville pointed out the books in the alien language, Kakakatak became excited, realizing they were stolen from the Great Library, and looked them over. Unfortunately, they were not what he sought, although he did bring them, and asked us to accompany him. That meant we would be down in the city with him for a few more days. I was fine with this, as it gave me more time with the little creature I had helped deliver, though the others were not as enthused. And so, we followed Kakakatak to the remains of the city's library, and there helped him rifle through the books with Neville's aid. I cannot tell you how long we were down there, but once he found the tome he needed, he thanked us and departed, saying he would distract the various cultists while we attempted to escape.
This is where we left him, and came upon the Purple Dome Temple. As we approached, Ufiti grew more and more excited, squeaking erratically. Perhaps it knew it was returning home. I cannot say we were so happy to see the place, for it was no less than a den of terrors. There were horrific statues of god-like things I dare not describe, three of which seemed all too lifelike, and none more dominant than the massive one of Sand-Bat, its black wings outstretched to engulf the room and its ruby eye glistening in the purple glow that came from beneath the floor somehow. An altar, stained with blood, was in the center, and before it was a great festering, stinking pool of some kind of terrible, blackish tar. The place breathed evil with every pulse of light that came from below, and we all felt our resolve shrink... especially when the three, strangely lifelike statues began to stir...
They were terrible eyeless half-bird, half-bat things, all nightmare. The insides of their wings were studded with small needles, and they hissed as they laid eyes on us, prepared to strike. I do not know how any of us retained our composure when faced with them, but I know I most certainly did not. A bizarre urge to touch the statues came over me, and I could not resist. I heard the others screaming at me not to, but I had no choice - it was not of my will that I moved, and the living statues did not attack me. The others, however, they were less than happy with...
"Praise be to Sand-Bat!" Enala cried suddenly, her voice half-shaking with fear as I noticed her lift something to the sky. "Praise be to Sand-Bat..."
"When in the hell did you steal that idol, Enala?!" screamed McCloud, now much more preoccupied with her than with me.
Whatever Enala's gambit was, it worked, for I heard them breathe a sigh of relief as the creatures settled back down. All this, just as I laid hands upon the much larger Sand-Bat statue. Then they all cried out in horror and a jolt of energy came through my body - like lightning striking me - and the entire room became pitch black. The only sound was that of Ufiti shrieking happily, and a terrible sense of doom came upon us as we all suddenly observed a massive, blood red, tri-lobed, burning eye open within the center of the room.
Sand-Bat stared at us coolly, then spoke in a languid and yet oddly familiar voice, echoing right into our very souls.
"Where is my child?"
Speechless and afraid, I offered Ufiti, and it flew to him. The great eye focused upon me, and I shrank beneath that withering gaze.
"Thank you, Muuzaji... You have done well."
"W-well?" I murmured, but had little time to react - a strange, dark power flowed through me, and bizarre knowledge of forbidden things flashed as memories in my head. I felt energized, strangely powerful... and yet, my mind burned. It ached. The weight of such knowledge, I am astonished it did not crush me. It easily could have, but mercifully, I did not recall all of it, and thus it did not destroy me. When I finally came back to my senses, I was too terrified and awed to speak, and merely murmured an awkward thank you before retreating.
"Indeed," the god continued. "You have each been such lovely pawns..."
"Oh, pawns, huh?" Neville spat, disgusted and trying to hide his fear. "Listen, I'm not yours or anyone else's pawn, I was one in the War for seven bloody years, and I'm not about to be one anymore. So, whatever it is you want from me and these bastards, you damn well better take it back, because I've had enough!"
"I would very much take those words back if I were you, Neville Harris... I know everything about you. I know you will not back down from anything if you believe you can get away with it. It is, after all, why I chose you. But this, child... This is not something that you can get away with."
"Shut it, ya cunt, if there's anything I can't stand, it's a fucking power-mad loony taking advantage of the lesser off!"
"Oh, child... you have no idea of just how powerless you are, do you?" The being chuckled darkly, his great eye focused upon the Australian. Then, his tone darkened, as did the aura of the room. "I will not ask again. Hold your tongue, Neville Harris, and you may still be spared."
We turned to Neville without seeing him, but we knew what he would say even then. We could feel how he had gritted his teeth, sense his defiant stare... and knew it would be the end of him.
"Fuck. You," he snarled, and then... then the screaming began.
First, it was in abject terror as he saw the face of Sand-Bat. I do not know how I know this, for all was dark; perhaps it was because of whatever dubious gift I was given, but I knew. Then, he screamed in agony, the sound of a man being tortured, but we could not see what was happening to him. We did, however, hear one phrase shortly before he was lifted into the darkness and vanished from our realm forever.
"Run! For God's sake, you bloody idiots, run!"
We didn't hesitate. The shrieking echoed behind us as we turned on our heels and ran for it, towards the exit. We had done all we could do. The last sight we saw as we finally reached the end was that of hundreds of cultists swarming us from every platform in alarm, and beyond that in the vast darkness, a great flash of bright greenish light followed by the sound and sight of an explosion. Kakakatak had triggered the dynamite below Huston's office, and with it... a cave-in that began to threaten. Rocks fell, stalactites crumbled, and the City of the Great Race buried itself in rubble and debris.
We barely escaped with our lives, let alone found our way to the jeeps we left behind. There was but one lone jeep left, and one very shaken driver, scraped up and shell-shocked.
"You... you're alive," He stammered. "Thank God, I thought you had died. You were gone for a week!"
The response hit us like a boulder, and we all went quiet. Then McCloud broke the silence, sobered.
"Where's the other guy?" He asked, and the driver paled.
"He's... well. We were attacked. Some sort of terrible windstorm. There were hundreds of Kooris with guns, they swarmed out of the tunnel a day or so after you left. We took cover, but then... the things came. Great, terrible, dirigible-like things, with too many eyes and mouths and limbs. They commanded the wind, and they were barely visible... just... just merciless. I managed to take cover out of absolute horror, but the other guy, well... you don't see him here, do ya?"
"I'm sorry," McCloud responded, "But at least you're alive."
"Alive, but rattled," said the driver. "Barely kept my mind, you know... I don't know how I managed it, but I did. I guess I'm made of sterner stuff. Military does that to ya, you know... Speaking of, where's that army bloke you had with you?"
Now it was McCloud's turn to be sober, eyes hardening to prevent tears.
"Well," he finally choked, flattening his voice to remain calm. "You don't see him here... do you?"
The driver understood, and we all clambered silently into the jeep to begin the long road back to Darwin. I do not think any of us spoke the entire trip back, and I honestly do not blame these people whom I have come to, very begrudgingly, see as my associates... and friends. I do not fault McCloud or Dr. Hildebrand for betraying me... I was not in my right mind, now that I reflect upon it. How many more of us will die, I wonder, to sate the blood lust of the Red God, in all his myriad forms? And what of me? Am I now tainted by his mark, forever stained for my weakness in adopting his child? Have I been blessed... or cursed for my part in this?
I do not know. I do not know, and this thing worries me to no end. I am feeling my mind weaken with each passing day of this journey, and I am feeling my paranoia worsen. None of us are the people we began this journey as anymore, and this frightens me. Even on the train back to Darwin, it frightened me, and even as we prepare for the trip to my homeland, on a tip from Byrd, it frightens me.
My father has always told me, Muuzaji, you must be a strong woman, a tough woman. It is something that I, despite my estrangement from him, have carried my entire life. I pray only that it shall see me through in the end, through ever-deepening trials and desperate travels. But if it does not...
If it does not, what shall become of me?
-- Muuzaji, Blessed and Cursed (August 28th, 1928)