Cthulhu Land of the Long White Cloud AU Read online

  Eventually, Renai came back and fell into a seat. “I’ve organised for you to see a couple of people tomorrow. You’re welcome to take a car seat here when you bed down.”

  “Thanks, I’m grateful.”

  I saw him pointing at the notes I had read. “What’s that?”

  “Just some old diary entries by a Scandinavian explorer. He disappeared up in the Arctic Ocean in the late 90s.”

  “May I read it?”

  “Sure.”

  I left Renai to read while I circled the islet and studied the lagoon. The clear, shallow water was full of coral and bright coloured fish, in stark contrast to the green jungled bulk of Mwaia that dominated the skyline. I walked back to Renai’s hut. He held the papers out to me.

  “Interesting. We have our own tales…”

  I sat opposite on one of the car seats. “Really? Like the Kvakeri?

  “I’ve heard stories since I was a boy. Remember I told you about upland Kwaio? Well, there has always been talk of these others, living close by to the Kwaio. It’s said these others have powers. As kids we were told these people could call bad weather and make people see things, do bad things, turn people to do harm to others.”

  “What, bogey-men? All countries have legends. You’re educated, Renai. Come on now. This is the modern world.” I pointed to the looming landmass. “This place is so densely populated.”

  “Don’t let that fool you. Get up in those mountains, among the Kwaio, it’s a whole other world. They have strange rules and customs.”

  I saw he was serious. “And you say they know of another tribe which live up there with them.”

  “I did not stay with them, more like near them, in some way—near, but far.”

  I did not even want to try to make sense of that.

  “So, who are these other people?”

  “Not people. They call them Ramo, but there are other names for them too.”

  I sat forward. He continued.

  “It’s said that the upland Kwaio ‘disappear’ people to the Ramo for who knows what reason. And it’s true that every year people here in the Solomons disappear, not only locals. Last year three Australian scientists vanished out west of Ranongga.”

  I felt he was now back in the real world and decided to pursue the matter. “Were they never found?”

  “No bodies were found, but the runabout they had hired from the Australian Navy on Gizo was found on a beach near their campsite, with all their diving equipment still on board. There was talk, but things quickly quietened down. The people out on Gizo stopped the search some two weeks in—nothing.”

  He stopped and stared at the dirt floor between his feet. I thought about what he said and looked out at the mountainous bulk of Mwaia. Renai slapped his knees.

  “If you’re keen on this kind of stuff, I have a story about a time I was working on a cable repair ship up near Guam.”

  I guess my eagerness was showing. Renai grinned, then I saw his demeanour change. He stared at his feet and when he raised his head he had become serious. I could see he was wrestling with some thought that troubled him.

  3

  Renai’s Story

  A few years ago I had a job as a crane operator on a fibre-optic cable repair ship. This was in the Mariana Islands up near Guam, you know, the American military own it. The ship was a big girl called the Sumatra Queen, captained by a fellow named Bennett, an angry man with an ulcer.

  There had been a build-up of sediment on a submarine seamount and a small section had sheared away, causing a minor landslide, which damaged an optics cable. There were four of us manning the section at the stern that included the hoists and motors which ran the little ROV, or Remote Operating Vehicle, which is a fancy name for a small deep-sea submersible. A big gangly guy, Fulcrum, was my assistant, working the engine that ran the sub, along with another guy, Hodgson, who was monitoring depth and pressure. I was up on the crane. Our job was to keep the sub safe and bring up the fibre optic cable in its retractable claw. Marina Eyles, our IT technician, was the computer whiz operating the ROV from a room on the bulwark.

  Off the side of this seamount there had been another minor slide next to the submersible. The slide had caused a swell and had swung the sub sideways so it had smacked up against the side of the undersea mountain. I had felt the movement up through the safety cable and had switched my engine to idle, so I could hear any orders Hodgson might have for me. He tapped his headphones and he looked up at me.

  “What the hell was that?”

  I leaned out and looked down at him.

  “What was what?”

  “That ringing sound. It’s not the sub. It sounded hollow, almost as if the sub had hit something hollow.”

  I looked down and he waved his hand.

  “Marina wants to raise the sub, but leave the cable behind. Bring it up, before there’s another slide. Here, I’ll patch her through”

  Marina spoke to me through my headphones. “It all looks good, but I’ve let the cable go. Raise the ROV.”

  All through this I knew Bennett and the mate were monitoring the situation and were also in radio contact with Marina. I heard Hodgson through my headphones.

  “We have a visitor.”

  I was not sure I heard right so I concentrated on getting the sub back up on deck. Seawater was still pouring off the little craft when I noticed something big wrapped around the ROVs grappling arm. It took me a few seconds to realise it was an animal. I remember staring at this odd looking thing and realising it had been hauled up from the sea floor. I thought about why it had not burst. Usually deep-sea creatures collapse and burst like popping bladders when they reach the surface. This was different. There was not even a wrinkling of the flesh. The thing was weird looking and wriggling so it was hard to see its true shape. It was blue grey with black splotches across a rounded head. It began squirming and squeaking and hissing like a tea-kettle, and it clung to the arm of the submersible as if it was its mother. Then it unwound. Next moment it was lying on the deck on its back thrashing and squealing. I couldn’t get a good look at the thing because it was moving quickly and spinning over onto its stomach and again onto its back, jerking its head and screaming, but I know I saw something with legs or arms, lean and muscled. It was changing colour, from grey to pink to deep blue; it flopped across the deck and I saw a crest growing around its face, which looked like webbed spines. Its eyes were deep set and blood pressed from the edges.

  Fulcrum leaned in for a closer look at this thing. He had a length of pipe and he prodded the beast. Without warning the thing opened its mouth and a stream of liquid spurted out into Fulcrum’s face. He dropped the pole and began clawing at his eyes. I saw steam rising from his head and I knew the spew was hot. Fulcrum fell to the deck right next to the sea creature and started yelling out and cursing, all the time trying to wipe the stuff off his face. “Help me!”

  I climbed down from the cab of the crane and jumped onto the deck. I saw the skin on Fulcrum’s face had started to bubble. I remember looking at the thrashing sea creature and saw large pieces of scaly skin were peeling off, almost as if it was ill. I remember standing stupidly not really knowing what to do. Shouts sounded behind me and I heard boots clomping along the overhead companionway. The mate boomed an order.

  “Someone get that idiot up off the deck. You, Hodgson, drop a tarpaulin over that screaming fish. Price, get the Doc and tell him to bring a cocktail syringe, move!”

  I heard the mate behind me barking more orders, but only vaguely, because most of my concentration was centred on the squalling thing on the deck. I saw Fulcrum struggling to get away from the thing. I began to gag from the smell. The mate yelled at me.

  “Renai, you useless shit, help the man.”

  I ran to get Fulcrum away from the thrashing creature. He was still clawing his fingers across his face. As I pulled him away I
saw the creature’s mouth gape wide. A wet, bulging sac was disgorged from its throat. I turned away and concentrated on helping drag Fulcrum to safety. The tarpaulin came down over the creature. I felt the mate’s hand on my shoulder.

  “Renai, let’s go see the boss.”

  I hardly remember climbing up to the bridge. I sat for some time in a wardroom with Marina and Hodgson; Fulcrum had been whisked off to the medic. The next thing I was receiving orders to leave the ship. I was standing portside with the others watching a Guam Coast Guard cutter, Pawtuxet, parallel to the Sumatra Queen. A zodiac was sent over to pick us up to take us aboard the Pawtuxet. We weren’t even allowed to grab our gear—that was sent along later and given back to us by some military cops. And they had gone through our stuff.

  It was Marina who said it first. We had seen some kind of deep sea unknown, with which the navy was familiar. We were told to shut up. I knew it was not like some friend in the schoolyard saying: “Hey, you have to keep this a secret.” We knew ‘requests’ from military personnel were definitely not requests.

  We were taken back to Guam. Marina was assertive with the upper-echelon crew, but they were clearly under orders to ignore all our questions and demands. Marina was furious. When we berthed at a Guam naval base, we were taken under guard in the back of a transport vehicle through the town. After a few minutes, we were ordered into a one-storey building with a black glass front. Inside we were under guard. Two uniformed marines escorted us along a wide corridor. The guards were uncomfortable at Marina’s aggressive attitude. They had let go of her arms and one of them walked alongside her, guiding her where he wished her to go. I could see they were a little afraid of her. With me the second marine was not so kind. He roughly pushed me along in front. At one point during our walk a massive door slid open. I saw an elevator about four metres wide. Inside was cavernous and looked as if it could hold a big vehicle. I had thought it odd for a one-storey building. We were escorted into a space that looked like a hospital waiting room with a row of chairs along one wall. We sat. The guards took Hodgson out of the room and locked the door behind them. We never saw him again. Guards came and took Marina away and I was alone for three hours.

  A different person came and threw my passport and bag onto the floor. I saw my clothes and papers had been roughly stuffed back in. Before I could vent my anger, two other men came into the room. One was a sharply dressed man whom I guessed to be a civilian; the other was uniformed with rows of ribbons and medals on his jacket. He handed me a sheet of paper with a lot of text. His voice was unfriendly.

  “Read and sign.”

  I wanted to get out of there, so I read the entire page as quick as I could. It basically stated I had voluntarily resigned my services aboard the Sumatra Queen. What made me sign the document so readily was when I read the attached names of my family and close friends. I knew a warning when I saw one. I realised this was in regard to the animal on our cable ship.

  Ten minutes later, I was back in a military truck. I wondered where the others had been taken. With two Marines in the back with me, we had said nothing as we were driven to Wom Pat airport. There, I was met by another officer and provided with an air ticket to Honiara. I was left in the airport terminal, now desperate to get off Guam.

  I sat on a bench, watching people. It was about an hour into my wait when a woman sat down next to me. I glanced at her and she spoke.

  “Renai? Don’t look at me. Just listen. I’m Lorraine. I’m a civilian research scientist, ichthyology. I’m going to leave a thumb drive on the seat next to you. I want you to take it and catch your plane. Look at what is on it when you are safe. There is an underground level called Nightmare Hall, which you need to see. It’s all on the drive. I’m going to leave now. If you spot someone coming to question you, lift your hand and pretend to cough. Slip this in your mouth, between your teeth and your cheek.”

  She stood and walked away.

  I lowered my hand and covered the drive. It was a tiny red plastic triangle. I gathered it up and held it, now feeling paranoid about being watched.

  4

  His story complete, Renai sat back and waited for my reaction. I had so many questions I didn’t know where to start. I stood and peered out from under the thatch roof of the hut. Mwaia stretched to both horizons.

  “I’ll tell you what really scared me, Lomu. When I got off Guam and arrived home here, I checked some news feeds. I read that a research scientist had been found dead from a suspected drug overdose in a hotel room in Guam. I knew who it was.”

  I wondered briefly if I was being played, but my curiosity took control.

  “So what was that thing on the cable ship?”

  “I think I met one of the Ramo that day. Around here they call them Kõpura.”

  “You really believe this stuff—about this, um, Kõpura?”

  “Didn’t you hear what I said? I saw one and I’ll never forget it. Add in what Lorraine told me—and I believe her—then they’re here, right enough, living on The Beast. There are many names for them. ‘Aporok’ over in West Papua and ‘Kõpura’ hereabouts, and your Norwegian explorer mentions ‘Kvakeri’. I think they could all be the same thing.”

  Renai leaned down and reached under the car seat next to him. He pulled out a crumpled shoebox, then rummaged inside.

  “My life, it’s all in here and here,” he said, tapping his head. “Two memories, one in my head and one…here.” He opened his hand and I saw a small plastic triangle.

  “The thumb drive?”

  “You can insert it into a phone if you have a late model, but your pad will do. The pop-up will tell you there are no files. What it does, instead, is divert files to a D drive that you can only access from your settings menu.”

  “There’s stuff on there I should see, right?”

  “Well, only if you want proof,” Renai went to the icebox and took out a bottle of soda. “I’ve seen what’s on this disk, and I don’t need to see it again. I just want your opinion. I’m off to see some builders. I’ll be back later.” Without further word he left the hut.

  Just as Renai had said, the thumb appeared empty. I opened up settings and there it was, a new drive I’d never seen before. I tapped it open. There were two files. I tapped on the first. The screen flickered and went black. I waited. The screen flashed again and then a file opened. I read the opening caption:

  Video diary: L. Morphs,

  Wom Pat district, Guam 18:06.

  A woman’s face came into view. She looked troubled and when she spoke she sounded nervous. I guessed this must be Lorraine, the marine biologist.

  “They breathe oxygen through a sophisticated gill system located at ocular periphery when away from their marine environ­ment. The room has to be darkened because of their photosensitivity. One of them appears ill. We are currently running tests when it is sedated. When you are near them you feel lightheaded and…sexually excited.” She looked slightly humiliated by this revelation but attempted to maintain a strict scientific composure.

  “On my first visit to the pool I was shown into a darkened room, not fully lights out, but dark enough to see silhouettes. That was enough. There are two caudated males, which we believe to be juveniles, because their genitalia seem to still be forming. I saw no testes, so I guess they had not yet dropped. The third, a female, was in a seclusion room. She was sick when bought in, but, ill or not, she is still powerfully built. I have been allowed to study her condition and was relieved she had been sedated. She has ichthyosis—her epidermis peels in strips. These three Aquatics have skin containing subsurface chromatophores, which can rapidly adapt with shifting colour to match their surroundings. The juvenile female exudes substantial amounts of tetrodotoxin from her cranial spine fins. That’s a nerve-paralysing toxin, usually found in the Australian blue ringed octopus and in some species of puffer fish. But of course, with such a large marine dweller, the amount is gre
atly increased.”

  Here Lorraine paused and looked as if she was thinking about how to continue. She shuffled some notes out of shot.

  “Examining the sedated ones is unnerving,” she faltered slightly. “But it is when I am in the pool with them that things become frightening.

  “The military personnel have ordered that the creatures not be anaesthetised while in water. It takes men with horrid cattle prods and chains to bind the two juveniles. These men are hardened to atrocities. I guess they have seen many awful things on remote battlefields. They bind them with leather straps so they can’t attack.

  “Taking their temperature and vital signs while with them in the brine pool both scares and excites me. The way they stare when you are close is frightening. Their eyes are almond shaped and the pupils large and black. It is…disturbing…to have unwanted feelings playing with your psyche.”

  The video went black. I waited and clicked onto the second file. The title read:

  File: Aquatic Morph,

  Wom Pat district, Guam 9:07

  Lorraine came back onscreen. She looked a little different, tired and harried.

  “Having worked closely with the sedated female I am now more familiar with her. This familiarity does not help reduce my terror in her presence. Being in the semi dark with these creatures is an awful experience. These are large Aquatics, more than two metres tall, or long, and they alter shape. I don’t know how big an adult might be. They sometimes eat by pushing a sac from their mouths, much as a starfish does by extruding its stomach; other times they manage to devour their food in other ways. I’ll explain that later. I don’t know how many of these creatures the military have down in the lower levels. When I get out of the pool my adrenaline is pumping and I find my legs shaking. Some of my colleagues have vomited. All the men, the soldiers get erections when they are near the female. Having been in the pool with these things four times, I am now not allowed back. It’s such a relief. I think the military have now found what they want from these creatures. I believe it has something to do with biological weaponry, perhaps…with the large amounts of tetrodotoxin…These creatures produce enough to equal hundreds of reef dwellers such as the blue-rings. Also, there is interest in aggregate pheromones from the male specimens’ sophisticated endocrine system. It would appear the military here consider anything to be a potential weapon. For the past few days I have been kept in my quarters. They look after me quite well. They are wondering what to do with me.