Excerpt Monday: Star Stepping – Beneath and Beyond

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This month I venture into the land of Science Fiction with an excerpt from my STAR STEPPING anthology, a book of science fiction and fantasy tales published by Wild Child Publishing. I’m thrilled to announce that THREE of the twelve stories are mine!

Star Stepping: An Anthology of Fantasy and Sci-Fi Tales
by Various

I hope you enjoy this excerpt from my first contact tale, Beneath and Beyond:

Blurb:

Archaeologist Erin Carstedter is a no-nonsense kind of gal. If something can’t be defined by scientific method, it doesn’t exist. Erin’s beliefs are about to be tested by a ruin beneath the polar ice cap. What Erin discovers in those icy depths will challenge her thinking…and change the world.

Excerpt:

Dr. Erin Carstedter stepped out of the harness and away from the access shaft. She tried not to think about the weight of the glacier pressing down on this tiny bubble of air. The cavern glowed with an eerie blue-white light, cast by a batterypowered lantern suspended from a piton driven high into the wall. The ice’s ability to simultaneously reflect and absorb the light fascinated her.

A haphazard pile of boxes and tools occupied the space just below the lantern. On the opposite wall stood the object of her team’s efforts—a magnificently carved door enthroned in an ancient wall. Technicians had already thawed its
hinges, leaving heated gel packs plastered to the surface to keep the door movable until the techs could pull out and the team’s archaeologists move in. She busied herself checking equipment while waiting for her friend and colleague to finish his descent into the blue-tinged bubble.

Sensitive new sonar imaging had detected a land mass and its ruined city buried under hundreds of feet of arctic ice some fifty miles north of Alert, Canada’s northernmost settlement. The more romantic among the team’s members whispered “Atlantis!” But not Erin. Her thoughts revolved around solid, observable, measurable data. Though she longed to know when and how a human settlement had prospered this far north, she scoffed at the notion of the mythic lost continent. Hadn’t people ever heard of fiction? Did they suppose the tendency to imagine idealized, fairy-tale societies a new wrinkle in humanity’s collective unconscious?

She reached out to stroke the frost-whitened marble door. The climate had to have undergone drastic change to support a civilization on the scale disclosed by remote sensing. Their access shaft, and this cavern, revealed only a minute portion of the long-buried city.

The decision-makers, after weeks of careful study of the sonar map, had finally decided to sink the access shaft at this location. Archaeologists had vied to guess which buildings might house what artifacts from the safety of wind-scoured
Quonset huts staked to the surface of the glacier. Yet, even in the heated interior of insulated shelters, men and women worked bundled in sweaters, scarves, and fingerless gloves. All to allow Erin to stand in admiration of a door carved from marble who knew how long ago.

“Ready to step into the past, Dr. Carstedter?”

Erin turned toward the voice. She knew the figure hunched in the little cavern to be her friend, Matt Davidson, the team’s archaeometry specialist, but his voice and the name on the duty roster were her only clues. The shapeless mass of arctic parka, complete with fur-edged hood and oversized snow pants, effectively hid his identity. Goggles and huge outer mittens completed his disguise. Still, the lilt in his voice flashed an image of her friend’s mischievous blue eyes to Erin’s mind.

She grinned, though her own protective clothing undoubtedly prevented him from noticing. “I thought we already had.” She gestured to the ice-white ground beneath their feet. “How long do you suppose it’s been since this bit of earth saw the light of day?”

“I wouldn’t want to guess,” he said. “Someone else’s department. What I want is to get through that door.” He moved closer to the ancient threshold. “Shall we?”

“After you, Dr. Davidson.” She gave him a courtly bow, or tried to. Arctic gear didn’t lend itself to bending.

Matt removed his cumbersome outer mittens and ran gloved fingers over the frosted marble. He pulled the thermal packs free and swung the door wide.

Erin edged out of his way, moved back, dragged a post driver into position, and staked the door open. The machine’s boom reverberated through the cavern and her flesh alike. She winced, reminded again of the fragility of their airy
bubble.

“Are you sure your name’s not Alice?” Matt’s voice cracked, and a nervous chuckle ricocheted off the ice.

Erin straightened, glanced at Matt’s goggled silhouette, and then allowed her gaze to follow his flashlight’s beam into the ruin’s interior. Only it wasn’t a ruin. A wave of vertigo washed through her system; she grabbed Matt’s arm for support.

“Do you see it too?” she whispered.

Matt’s echoing laughter died away, and he answered in a gruff whisper. “It’s a helluva cold rabbit hole, Alice, but at least we’ve fallen through together.”

Erin teetered on the threshold a moment longer and then stepped through the looking glass onto soft, green grass beneath a cloudless, sapphire sky. An enormous monarch butterfly danced across her field of vision, and she glanced
back at Matt and the entrance to the ice cavern. Matt stood a few paces behind her, looking ridiculous in his arctic gear, but the opening into their world no longer existed. Erin pivoted slowly on the spot. An unbroken horizon of
meadowland, forest, and mountain greeted her vision. However they’d arrived in this unexpected place, they wouldn’t be returning by the same route.

“This has to be a hallucination,” she muttered. Panic-stricken, she sank to the ground, squeezed her eyes shut, and recounted the facts of her situation. “I’m in a centuries-old ruin, buried under tons of ice. It’s too cold to support life.”

Keeping her eyes firmly closed, she removed her mittens and pulled off her left glove. With deliberate care, she lowered her hand to the ground beside her. She encountered what could only be grass; soft, resilient blades of grass.
Approximately six inches high, the leaves bent easily beneath her questing fingers and gave way as she sought the soil below. Warm, damp earth. She lifted her fingers to her muffler-wrapped nose and breathed in the slightly musty scent of dirt spiked with the tang of freshly bruised grass.

She’d expected a cold so bitter it burned her exposed flesh. Instead, her senses screamed Summer! Sweat trickled down her neck to pool at the base of her spine. She needed to shed several layers of clothing, but her intellect refused to accept her body’s testimony, insisting she’d freeze to death if she unwrapped.

“This is absolutely impossible,” said Matt. “But it’s a helluva lot more comfortable than the ice shaft.”

Eyes still squeezed closed, Erin listened to his movements, felt his warm, calloused fingers pull her hand away from her face.

“Snap out of it, Erin. We’ve got a whole new world to explore.” His words penetrated the fugue in her brain, and she opened her eyes to focus on his handsome face. Matt’s tousled blond hair needed a trim, and his chin sparkled
with golden stubble, but she could see his face!

“Matt,” she cried. “Are you insane? I don’t care what kind of mental aberration we’re suffering; you’ll die of exposure dressed like that!”

He knelt beside her in nothing more than a pair of sweat pants, tee-shirt, and his fur-lined boots. A grin lit his good-looking face. Erin shook her head, glancing in disbelief between him and the nearby pile of discarded protective gear.

“If this is an illusion, it’s a good one. My outer layer of dermis should be dead by now, my lungs seizing.” He stroked her bare hand. “Your skin seems fine too.”

He stood and pulled her up with him. “Come on, Erin. Lose the parka or you’re going to roast.”

Struggling against his grasp, she twisted away, yanked on her glove and mittens, and turned to glower at him.

“Listen,” she said, working hard to keep the rising hysteria out of her voice, “you may be suicidal, but I’m not. Obviously something in the atmosphere of this ruin is causing us to hallucinate. We need to sit tight until the rest of the team gets nervous and comes to check on us. The door is open now, so the fumes, or…whatever…will have a chance to dissipate.”

She dropped to the ground again and glared up at him, though her gear hid her expression. “We’ve got to stick tight. If we wander away….” She swallowed, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. “If we wander away, they might
not be able to find us!”

Matt stared at her, eyes narrow and jaw tight. When he spoke, his voice carried the condescension of an adult speaking to a wayward child.

“Will you listen to yourself? Sit tight? Wait for rescue? Erin, look around! I don’t know where we are, or how we got here, but we’re sure as hell not in a ruin at the bottom of an ice shaft.”

He spun away from her, paced a few steps, kicked a large rock out of his path, and strode back to tower over her, hands jammed into his pockets.

“Get up, Erin,” he said. “We can’t just sit here doing nothing.”

He reached for her again, but she twisted away and scuttled a few feet sideways.

“If you want to get lost in this maze,” she said, “go for it. I’m staying right here until my head clears.”

“I’m sorry, Erin, but I can’t walk away. You’re just stubborn enough to sit here in the blazing sun, bundled to the teeth, until your core temperature pushes you into a stroke.”

He launched himself at her, wrestled her prone on the grass, and straddled her hips while he freed her upper torso from its protective gear.

Erin sputtered and fought, angry as a wet cat. He wrenched the parka free, exposing her sweat-drenched tee-shirt and hair to the warm breeze. A violent shiver convulsed her body.

Matt dodged away, and she sprang to a sitting position, chafing her arms and running shaky fingers through her short mop of curly hair. She glared at Matt, lips sealed in a thin, tense line. No way would she admit he’d been right.

“Get up,” he ordered. “Lose the parka pants. We’re going to hike to the tree line, and I don’t want you overheating.”

“I can’t,” she snapped. “I’m not wearing sweats.” Defiance sizzled in her blood, but she forced herself to remain calm and gazed toward the distant trees. “Why that direction? Why not back toward the door?”

He offered his hand. She hesitated briefly, rolled sideways—away from him—and pushed herself upright.

“Because those trees look like they could be growing along a stream,” he said, dropping his hand to his side. “We’re not going back, because there’s nothing to go back to. Look for yourself.” He pointed to the heap of thinsulite and fur—his arctic gear. “I’d barely stepped through the door when it disappeared. If itexisted, it’d be right there.”

She nodded curtly and strode off across the sun-drenched meadow toward the line of trees Matt had indicated. She shelved the problem of where they were. Evidence would present itself, if she kept her eyes open. In the meantime, she catalogued the world around her.

“This feels like a setting from ‘Little House on the Prairie,’” Matt said, gesturing to the terrain around them, “except they were in Kansas, and Kansas doesn’t have mountains.”

“True,” she said. Analyzing data would keep her mind occupied and hysteria in check. “I see no evidence of civilization as we know it and definitely nothing of the ruin we expected to find. There aren’t any power lines or roads, paved or otherwise.” She stopped, listened intently, and shook her head. “No traffic noise, either. But I do hear a stream.” She glanced at Matt, irritation dwindling as her bewilderment increased. If they weren’t suffering from a fume-induced hallucination, where the hell were they, and how had they gotten here?

“Okay, we’re not under an arctic glacier and we’re not in Kansas.” He grimaced and wiped his forehead on the tail of his tee-shirt. “It’s not much, but it’s a start.”

She shook her head, wishing she could shed her thermal pants and heavy boots. “I’m still not convinced I haven’t suffered a complete mental breakdown. I can’t get past the impossibility of us being anywhere other than that Arctic ruin.”

He eyed her with skepticism. “I thought you were a stickler for empirical evidence. Where do you see ice or artifacts?”

Erin scowled. “Let’s just say I’m not convinced either of us is a reliable witness right now.”

They reached the line of trees and stepped gratefully into its shadow. Matt leaned against a sturdy, young oak and said, “You’re right, it’s a physical impossibility, but I have to believe I’m sane. Otherwise, what’s the point of doing
anything? I’m going to keep trying to figure out where we are. If we can solve the puzzle, we might have a chance of getting home.”

“Fine. We can’t go back the way we came, and obsessing over my sanity won’t help.” She bit her lip and glanced away. “But I hate losing the reference point of the door.”

Matt shook his head. “The door disappeared. We couldn’t just sit and wait. We had to act.”

Erin raised her hands and moved toward the sound of running water. “You want action,” she muttered, “I’m acting. Though I can’t see what tramping through the woods is going to accom—”

She stopped so suddenly Matt walked into her. “What are you…?”

Erin waved him to silence and peered forward, so focused on what lay ahead she barely noticed when he moved to her side…and froze.

They stood at the edge of the woods where a small clearing ran down to the water’s edge. There, on the bank of the stream, reclined a living being. The creature relaxed in a patch of sunlight. Its torso resembled an adult lion with the
addition of sleek, leathery wings folded close to its flanks. Tawny gold fur covered the powerfully muscled body, but instead of a feline face, a man’s bearded head sat atop the sinewy shoulders. Dark eyes shone from behind a tangled mass of honey-colored hair and beard.

Great, thought Erin, one more reason to doubt my sanity. She fought to stay calm, to think of rational explanations, as she gazed into the dark eyes of a living, breathing sphinx.

“Do you see a sphinx?” she whispered, not daring to look away from the incredible creature.

“Yeah,” breathed Matt. “Maybe you were right. Maybe we have lost our marbles.”

“No.” She gave her head a tiny shake and breathed her whispered response. “Illusions should be individual, unique to our own fears and desires. Besides, this creature doesn’t conform to any single mythology. It’s like a conglomerate. You were right. This is real.”

Matt gave a quiet grunt, half satisfied, half exasperated.

“What do you remember about sphinxes?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “They ask riddles and kill folks who answer wrong?”

“That’s one possibility.” Erin darted a look at Matt’s face. “Are you any good with riddles?”

He stared into her eyes for a moment and then shifted his gaze back to the sphinx. “Lousy.”

The sphinx, whose tail had thumped in a rhythmic beat during their quiet conversation, rose in a fluid motion and padded toward them. He stopped a few paces away, sat on his haunches, and curled his tail around his front paws.
“You may leave the shelter of the trees,” he said. “I have eaten today, and neither of you smells particularly enticing.”

At the sound of his growling, gravelly voice, Erin’s blood rushed to her core, leaving her light-headed and a little unsteady. Perhaps she wobbled on her feet. She didn’t know but she appreciated the unasked-for support of Matt’s hand on her elbow. His grip tightened, and she welcomed the sudden jolt of pain. It shattered the haze of panic and allowed her to move forward of her own volition.

“Can you tell us where we are?” asked Matt.

Erin admired his calm voice, though she detected a tremor in the hand on her elbow. She doubted she could have found her voice at all right then. Her mouth felt dry as the Sahara that should have been this creature’s home.

“I can,” the sphinx said, “but I will not. My answer would be meaningless to you. Suffice it to say you stepped through a portal into my waiting room.” He smiled, showing teeth more suited to a leonine body than a human face. “Whether you return to your world, remain here, or advance is at my discretion.” He stood, paced back to his original spot by the water’s edge, circled once and lowered himself regally onto the sunlit grass.

“Advance?” Erin forced the single word past uncooperative lips.

“Waiting room for what?” Matt continued to grip her elbow as if worried she would disappear, but his voice remained calm.

“This is the anteroom of the gods, and I, Enki, am the keeper of the gate.”

Erin’s knees buckled, and she slid to the ground. Matt’s grip had gone slack; he made no effort to keep her upright.

“Gods?”

Erin managed a trembling smile. The sphinx had reduced Matt to single syllables, as well.

“Your earliest ancestors understood us to be gods,” said Enki. “Your species has now evolved far enough to posit the existence of other intelligent life in the universe. These days you would recognize us as visitors from other star systems. In a word, aliens.”

Matt lowered his tall frame to sit beside Erin in the lush grass. “Are you suggesting that beings from our various cultural myths exist? That our myths are actually first contact stories?”

“Yes,” he said. “You’ve summed it up nicely. I believe you would call us ‘tourists.’”

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Title: Star Stepping
Genre: Science Fiction/Fantasy
Book Length: Novel
Price: $5.95

Available Here!

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