TOMB HUNTER

The Adventures of Larra Court

Episode 6

Larra’s Arctic Adventure

Chapter 32 Franklin

Featherstone swore in frustration. This was not the way it was supposed to end. He should have completed his mission by now. Instead he was lost. Irretrievably lost. For two days he had been wandering mindlessly through the forest. What a hell of a world to be in! Eternal day. No night. No sun, no stars, no moon. How was he supposed to tell what direction he was going when everything looked the same?

He was getting low on food. He had hoped to shoot some game, but the animals were too elusive for him. There were lots of parrots and monkeys close by. As a matter of fact they kept up a constant barrage of noise whenever he was around. But he was not yet ready to eat one of them. He would be in a few days though.

He had tried retracing his steps, but had made a wrong turn somewhere. Instead of going back to a point he recognized he had blundered deeper into the forest. Now he was stumbling through a stand of very strange looking trees.

“Tentacles,” he thought. Their branches looked just like tentacles. He shivered. There was something very disturbing about their appearance. Perhaps he should go back the way he had come. He stepped back and ran into something rubbery. He turned his head and saw that it was one of the tentacle-like branches of one of the strange trees. It seemed to have reached out into the path.

Featherstone stepped away from the branch. He saw now that it had indeed moved across the path. Even as he watched other branches joined the first, creating an impenetrable barrier. “What the hell!” he exclaimed.

Another branch touched his back. He jumped away from it, but now branches from other trees were reaching for him from all directions. Unslinging his rifle he fired into them. The bullets tore into the rubbery branches but seemed to have little effect on them. A tendril whipped about his wrist, yanking him toward one of the trees. He screamed in fear, but it made no difference. Other tendrils shot out and sized his legs, arms and torso. Shouting in rage and terror Featherstone was dragged toward the trunk of one of the predatory trees. Within seconds he was clasped to the trunk, the tentacles binding him close to it. For a few minutes he struggled madly and then gave up. He was caught.

Featherstone forced himself to relax. There must be a way out of this. How could he be captured by a tree? Then there was another question. Why would a tree want to capture him? He gasped in pain. Hundreds of tiny barbs had suddenly grown out of the tentacles that held him. In seconds they had pierced his skin in innumerable places. He felt like he was being burned by acid. He realized in horror that the barbs were more than they seemed. They were injecting him with some incredibly painful chemical. A frightening image flashed through his mind. The barbs were there not to hold him, but to digest him. He had been captured by an enormous predatory plant. As his entire body exploded into pain he shrieked in terror as his clothing and skin began to dissolve.

Larra and Melissa looked open-mouthed at the spectacle before them. Behind them Ayashe, Lemaire, and Sawatis stared awestruck. “I’ve seen a lot of things,” said Larra. She had to shout to be heard. “But never anything like this.”

The five explorers stood dumfounded by the incredible panorama in front of them. The roof of the pale sky had split open and from it tumbled a massive column of water at least a mile wide. It thundered into a vast ocean that spread out to the distant horizon. The noise of the immense cataract was deafening and the cloud of spray raised when it struck the ocean rose like a vast fogbank that obscured much of the incredible scene.

“Where does it come from?” yelled Melissa, straining her voice to be heard.

Larra placed her mouth close to the girl’s ear. “I don’t know,” she replied, but my guess is that it is connected to the ocean. Can’t you smell the salt tang?”

Melissa nodded. She could indeed. She looked around for the cave that they were supposed to find. It should be somewhere close by. Larra seemed to guess what she was looking for and signaled to the other three. They nodded in understanding. Everyone was aware of their goal. Splendid as was the sight in front of them, they did have a mission to complete, and they had already been gazing at the immense waterfall for over an hour.

They spread out, but kept one another in sight. Larra was worried about Featherstone. There had been no sign of the aristocratic but brutal spy. She had met few men in her life who had bested her, but he seemed to have made a habit out of it. Melissa had taken two weeks to recover from the injuries he had inflicted upon her. Larra had taken almost as long. The spear wound in her side had been deep. But as usual, their injuries had healed quickly and without any trace of scarring. Larra now knew the reason for their amazing rate of recovery, but that did not make it any less fantastic.

Sawatis was signaling and pointing to a solid rock wall. Larra and the others hurried toward him. As they neared him they saw what he was pointing toward. There was a small break in the rock. A cave, and just where Franklin had said it was.

They had found Franklin three weeks after Larra had judged that she and Melissa were well enough to begin the pursuit of Featherstone. They had never found the devious spy, but they had found Franklin. He was right where he had said he would be in the letter he had somehow managed to get to the British embassy in Ottawa. But he was not who they had thought he would be.

It had been a strange meeting. Larra no longer had the map given to her by the embassy, but having studied it at length, she had memorized every detail. She had no trouble following the route described. She had expected that Featherstone would be there ahead of her, but there had been no sign of him. His absence was a mystery, but one that Larra did not want to waste her time solving.

During their trek through the nightless forests of Pelucidor, all of the adventurers had shed most of their clothing. The unrelenting heat convinced them that fewer clothes were better than more. Ayashe had been the hardest to convince to disrobe. The girl was quite modest, and perhaps felt a little inferior in that her endowments could not compare to those of Larra or Melissa. As a result, although she had cut off her pant legs above the knee, she had not modified her shirt. She preferred to sweat rather than reveal too much of her torso.

“She has nothing to be ashamed of,” Larra thought. The girl had a gorgeous body. The fact that she was not yet fully developed could not hide her womanly figure. In a few years she would be stunningly beautiful. However, it was her choice. If she was more comfortable fully covered then that was up to her.

As for Larra and Melissa, they had cut away more than just the legs of their trousers. They had torn the arms off their shirts, and sheared off the bottom four inches. Then they had tied what remained of their shirts in a knot just below their breasts. Their modified garments had attracted considerable attention from Lemaire and Sawatis, although the two men tried to pretend they noticed nothing unusual.

The two men had cut down their trousers as well, and in addition had completely removed their shirts. Their powerful arms and well developed chests had been the object of more than one surreptitious stare from the three women. But the long daily marches had kept them too tired for either the women or the men to think of much else other than sleep when they stopped to rest.

The “day thing” was still a problem for all of them. They had no idea how the Suruani and Lelawabi had been able to determine what a day was. Larra theorized that the inhabitants of Pelucidar were attuned somehow to the rotation of the earth, but she had never been able to figure it out. As a result they ignored the concept of day and night and simply walked until they felt too exhausted to go any farther. Then they set up camp, prepared a meal, and slept. When they awoke they repeated the routine, and so it went day after day.

It had almost been a surprise when they came upon the landmark that Larra had memorized. It was an enormous rock formation standing like a sentinel in the middle of the forest. It must have towered over five hundred feet. But even more important was the well defined path that led around it. Larra sensed she was close to her goal. Quickening their pace, the little party moved rapidly down the trail. Ten minutes later they saw their first New Britons.

They were a fine looking people and their resemblance to the Suruani and Lelawabi was obvious. But there was something a quite different about them. Their skin seemed a little lighter, and they were a bit taller than the people Larra and her friends had already encountered. But even more remarkable was the fact that both men and women were dressed in toga-like robes that concealed most of their bodies. Strangely, they seemed quite unsurprised when Larra’s expedition walked cautiously into their camp. This had to be the place. However, it wouldn’t do to simply walk carelessly into a trap. The members of her expedition readied their weapons.

A tall man dressed in a dark blue toga approached them and addressed them in perfect English. “Good day,” he said, “and welcome.” He looked at their firearms. I don’t think you will be needing those. The Master has been expecting you.”

Larra and her companions were almost too stunned to reply. Larra had managed to stammer out a return greeting and then a question. “Who are you, and how do you come to speak English?’ The man smiled. “All will be explained by the Master. He has ordered that you be brought to him directly.”

“But how does he know we are here?” asked Melissa.

This time the man answered. “You were seen coming hours ago. Please, come. The Master awaits.”

The village they walked though was built in the Suruani style and was well populated. Larra estimated that there were at least a thousand people in the village. As they walked past the assembled villagers they were watched with considerable interest, but Larra noted, not the slightest sign of fear or hostility.

Ahead of them was a magnificent building, built in a style that was quite different from the rest of the village. Larra raised one elegant eyebrow as she approached it. “It looks like an English country estate,” said Melissa who was walking in step with her.

“Indeed it does,” agreed Larra. This was very strange. How could the people of Pelucidor know what an English country house looked like? She got her answer a moment later. Advancing down the steps toward her was about as unusual sight as she had ever seen.

In the tropical world of Pelucidor, hundreds of feet below the surface of the earth and about as far away from England as it was possible to get, was a tall brown skinned man wearing the garb of an English country gentleman of the nineteenth century. To say that he was overdressed was to understate the case. He surveyed the assembled party before him with a curious mien. Finally he spoke, his upper class accent reflecting his appearance. “I see the standards of dress in the civilized world have changed somewhat.” Then he smiled, and descending to the lowest steps took Larra’s hand, and bestowed a kiss upon it. “Welcome to my little kingdom,” he said. “I am Sir John Franklin.

Overcoming her amazement, Larra managed a reply. “Larra Court,” she said, “and these are my companions.” One after the other she introduced all of them.

Sir John kissed the hands of Melissa and Ayashe as well, and shook those of Sawatis and Lemaire. “I see, that you speak like a lady,” he said, referring to Larra’s cultured accent, “even if you are not dressed like one.”

“I am afraid my trousseau and that of my friends has suffered greatly while getting here,” said Larra. It has been quite a long journey.”

Sir John nodded. “Is the good queen still on the throne? I hear so little of the surface world.”

“I am sorry to report that she passed away some forty years ago, but her great grandson rules.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Sir John, but it is good to know that the royal family is still respected.”

Larra nodded. They continued to exchange pleasantries while Sir John led them into the house. Inside, Larra found that it was refreshingly cool. The walls of the house were constructed of solid stone and helped to dissipate the heat. As their conversation continued Larra was able to learn who Sir John was and what he was doing in Pelucidor.

Sir John seated all of them at a large stone table and ordered a scarlet robed young woman to bring refreshments. These turned out to be various forms of tropical juices. The adventurers sat and drank the refreshing drinks while Sir John began his story.

It was an amazing tale. And it started with the ill fated Franklin Expedition to arctic Canada. That had been a hundred years ago. Sir John Franklin had led the best equipped expedition that had ever been attempted into the far north. He and most of his men had disappeared without a trace. It had always been thought that all of them had perished in the frozen wilds of the north. But in Sir John’s case it had proven not to be true. Somehow, by pure luck he had stumbled upon the entrance to the underground world of Pelucidor. Starving and almost dead from the cold he had made his way deeper and deeper underground, finally arriving in the strange subterranean world. And there he had stayed. By good fortune he had made contact with the local inhabitants of the region he had discovered. Believed to be a strange white god they had taken him into their tribe and placed their services at his disposal.

Injured during his descent in to Pelucidor, and unable to return to the surface, Sir John had made the best of his accidental discovery. He had established his own little bit of England in Pelucidor and brought the local inhabitants the benefits of English society. He also found to time to father several children. The Sir John who related this history to Larra was the fifth ruler to bear that title.

More important than his history, however, was the reason he had contrived to get the message to the surface. Unlike the original inhabitants of Pelucidor, the several Sir Johns that had ruled the New Britons were curious about their world. Passing on as much of their English education as possible to their descendants, each ruler had investigated the underground world to the best of his ability. What they had found they believed was both interesting and worth passing on to the world of the surface. A world they now knew only through the stories of their fathers and grandfathers.

“My father received word of the great war between England and the German Empire,” said Sir John, finally getting to the reason Larra and her friends were in Pelucidar. “We have learned much about our world, and believe we have found something that would help in the war.”

Larra opened her mouth to reply and then stopped. She had been about to point out that the German Empire no longer existed, and then realized that it did not matter. Germany was at war with England and her empire for the second time in only twenty years. The important thing was that Sir John had discovered something that might be of value to England’s war effort.

“As you may have already discovered this world is lit by the layer of phosphorescent fungus that grow on the rock surfaces that make up its boundaries and the sky. It does this by digesting a mineral that is found in great quantity throughout the rock. I do not know what the mineral is called. It looks like ordinary rock, but if it is held too long in the hand it has the ability to cause burns and sickness.”

Larra and Melissa nodded. Both women knew enough science to recognize a description of the radioactive ore containing uranium. What Sir John was telling them was that the strange white fungus somehow had the ability to convert the radioactive rock to light and heat.

“But there is more,” said Sir John, noting their rapt attention to his words. “The light given off by the fungus possesses some special qualities. Have you noticed since you entered my world that minor injuries such as cuts heal more quickly?”

This time all of the members of the expedition nodded. They had noticed, especially Larra and Melissa. They had received injuries from their ordeals that should have taken weeks to heal. Larra had used up all of her healing water in the first few days in Pelucidar, but the Suruani healers had worked miracles with what she thought were just simple herbs and potions. The primitive medicines had probably helped, but she had been puzzled as to why they were so effective. Now she had an answer.

“I do not know what gives the fungus its powerful qualities, but I believe that it is something that should be turned over to my country,” continued Sir John. “Given enough time perhaps the scientists of your world can unlock its secrets. I will give you all that I and my ancestors have written on it. I hope it will be of use.”

That meeting with Sir John had occurred two weeks ago. Larra would have liked to stay longer and learn more about Pelucidar, but she knew her mission was more important. She had been directed to the fastest way out of Pelucidar and it had brought her to the immense waterfall and the cave entrance that would take them to the surface. Sir John had equipped them properly to complete the journey, including proper winter clothing which they would need as they neared the surface. The clothing was clearly Inuit in origin and was evidence that the New Britons visited the surface on a regular basis, but not perhaps not often enough to keep up with the history of the surface world.

The expedition entered the cave that Sawatis had found. It was not dark inside, as it was lined with the luminous fungus that brought light everywhere else in Pelucidar. Larra knew that the fungus would die out gradually as they proceeded deeper into the cave and moved closer to the surface. But this seemed to have been provided for. There were a number of torches stacked just inside the cave entrance. They would carry them with them until they were needed.

Larra motioned that the party should move a little farther into the cave. They walked for about five minutes, until the rock of the cave screened out the incredible thunder of the giant waterfall. “We’ll rest here,” Larra said. Tomorrow we start our journey to the surface.”

It took them three days to get out of the cave. And when they did they found themselves in an arctic wilderness a few hundred feet from a small Inuit settlement. Like the first cave they had discovered, the entrance to this one was also concealed by rock. It could not be discovered unless someone stumbled across it by accident. Although they were careful during the long journey through the tunnel they need not have worried. They never did find Featherstone. Larra hated to think that he might still be in Pelucidar causing trouble, but at least he had not interfered with the last part of their journey.

Larra smiled and snuggled closer to Lemaire. The Inuit had been very generous. They had constructed three igloos for their unexpected guests. Ayashe took one; Lemaire and Sawatis another; and Larra and Melissa the last. But somehow, they had ended up with different partners. In the igloo next to hers Larra could hear muffled sounds as Sawatis and Melissa went at it. They had been quite noisy for the best part of two hours. She thought of reminding them that they had an early start tomorrow, but thought better of it. After what Melissa had been through she deserved a little bit of tenderness. She felt Lemaire’s hand close on her breast. “Are you still awake?” she whispered.

“Awake and standing to attention, if you know what I mean,” Lemaire whispered back.

Larra did know. She rolled over on her back. He hand closed on something long and hard. Lemaire gave a groan. “Time to put this to work again,” she said. A few seconds later her moans mixed with that of her lover. Maybe the Inuit would let them sleep in.

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