Adventure One: Part One

by Handel W. Care

All irregularities will be handled by the forces controlling each dimension. Ancient, millenial ascendants may not be used where there is life. Capable, unconditioned powers are available:-
Whisky, Vodka, Cider, Brandy, Beer, Tequila, Rum, Schnapps and Coffee.

Rum and Coffee have been assigned...

Outside the windows of the house all was dark. An overcast sky coupled with the unilluminated countryside gave the impression that there was nothing else left in the universe. Cold etched the glass, reminding the boy who had twitched the curtain aside of the freezing depths of deep space. A sense of dread and foreboding overtook him and he replaced the thick material as much to keep away the demons of his imagination as to retain heat in the house. Above him he could faintly hear his mother and father amusing his young sister before she had to go to sleep. Nursery rhymes. Alice never grew sick of them, it seemed.

Feeling better at the sounds of other life in the house, however removed, the boy moved away from the kitchen window and sat down at the table. A book lay open, spine stretching as gravity helped to make sure that the reader's place was not lost, and he picked it up half-heartedly. Murder mysteries seemed a little too real, a little too close to home somehow. Frowning, he mentally berated the book for giving him stupid ideas. At ten years of age he shouldn't be jumping at bogeymen or wild imaginings - that was more Alice's sort of thing, kids stuff.

Just as his internal pep talk began to take root a chill shot down the length of his spine and his mouth tasted sour. Something had changed. Listening, he could hear nothing. Not his sister, not his parents, not the wind against the panes or... or the clocks. He glanced around wildly. His father's hobby was collecting, refurbishing and repairing clocks. This room alone held over six of them, and each had stopped, dead on 7:10, although he knew his father wound them religiously before dinner.

Clattering his chair back in the sudden hush and fighting off the panic that rose to grasp him, he hurried for the door, feet pounding on the somehow alien floor, then out into the hall, reaching the foot of the stairs just in time to hear his sister's scream. Pausing but briefly, as if surveying the familiar heights of the steps for anything out of the ordinary, he shot up to the first landing, along beside the rail outside his parents' bedroom, through the hall, past his own room and up the thinner staircase that led to Alice's turret room. Artworks and wall hangings stood silently by an ongoing collection of halted timepieces. All, in the unique way of each, read ten minutes past seven.

The screaming halted abruptly as he rushed into the room.

"Billy! Billy! They went away! Mummy and Daddy went away," cried his sister, her eyes overflowing and face red. Sitting up on the bed she reached her short, five year old's, arms towards him, seeking comfort.

Billy swept her up in his arms, eyes frantically searching for signs of his parents. At one side the rocking chair still moved slightly and his fathers spectacles and pipe were laid out on the bedside table next to it. On the floor lay the book of rhymes, looking as if it had simply been dropped there. The scent of his mother's perfume still hung in the air, but there was no other sign of either of them. He hadn't passed them on the stairs and both the rooms on the way had been wide open and empty.

A scratching at the window caused him to startle, upsetting Alice as well as he swung around to see a stray upper branch of the winter bare tree outside clawing at the glass. No way out that way. Where could they be?

No longer feeling secure in this room, he made his way carefully down the stairs, holding the girl tightly. Once they had gained the landing he set her down and held her hand as they both checked more carefully into the two bedrooms there. There were no signs. Leaving the child in front of the kitchen fire he searched the rest of the house thoroughly, then called the emergency number by the 'phone. Although the fact they were on an island meant that help would be slow in coming, at least it would be coming. After assuring the constable that he'd stay in the house Billy replaced the receiver on its cradle and sat at the table to wait.

Soon, knocking resounded through the house, its hearty action magnified by the stillness throughout the building.

"That was quick. He must have been out here on his rounds already, Alice. It's all going to be fine." Billy smiled a cheer he didn't feel particularly at his sister. At least the responsibility would be off his shoulders, and adults could get things done and done fast.

The banging continued, if anything louder than before. Once in the hallway Billy was almost deafened by it. "Alright! Alright," he yelled, "I'm coming." It was as he approached the front door that he realised the sound wasn't coming from there, but from the sturdy door leading to the basement. The door beside which, as always, hung the only key that opened it; the door which he knew for a fact to be locked, as he'd checked it only a little while ago.

Tremulously he moved towards the door, noting the distance to the kitchen door if he needed to run.

"Look, are you going to let us in or do we need to break it down?" Came a voice from someone who had to be standing at the top of the basement stairs. Not his father's voice. A stranger, with a deep, gravelly tone reminding him of an uncle who had seen service in the Falklands. A voice of command, and one that quite simply couldn't be in the cellar.

Resting his head against the door, impatience burning in eyes mostly shut as he attempted to gain control, the large man shaped figure waited for the throbbing in his temples to subside. Behind him, a couple of steps further down into the darkness of the cellar, his companion chuckled softly then stopped to make an unseen face at the taste of his own tongue.

"I'm glad you've stopped that, I can still feel my neurons jumping around in sympathetic vibrations. Strong door, or are you so hungover your strength has gone on safari looking for your manners, charisma and empathy?" Like the jest, the voice was somewhat weak, but seemed to draw strength as it continued. "Rather than depending on the small chance of any of your less used personality traits making an astounding appearance I'll see what I can do, shall I?"

"Yeah, make yourself useful," replied the other, only realising after the lack of response that he was talking to thin air. "Ah, bollocks," he muttered under his breath. "Here we go again."

It had ended as so many nights had - that is to say, in a steadily increasing haze. A severely disjointed parade of faces, drinks and certain actions on his part flowed less than serenely through what, at this early stage of the evening, he laughingly called his brain. Then they had woken, mercifully in darkness, here, wherever here was. There was something niggling at the back of his consciousness, something about an agreement, but it was drowned out among the multitude of other, stronger, niggles. First priority was to get out of here and replenish himself with the elixir of life. He was useless until that first cup, couldn't concentrate enough to do more than tap one finger against the door.

Out in the hall, Billy cringed back as the door shook once more, filling the ghostly silence with its clamour. Thankfully the attack on the straining hinges was short lived this time. There was a muffled, almost inaudible, sound, unearthly in quality, and then the voice called out again. Its words were unexpected and led to frightening conclusions.

"Tell him."

A half formed question on his lips, Billy spun around, astonished, as a second voice spoke.

"You really should let him out, you know. He dislikes being kept waiting." There was a jovial tone to the voice, relaxed, warmly modulated and calming. It belonged to the man seated easily on the third step of the stairs, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement at some unseen joke. A ring shone silver on his right hand for the merest instant as he rested a bearded chin on his palm, elbow on grey coat shrouded leg, and smiled companionably at the boy.

"It's all right, we're here to help."

"I already called the policeman on the mainland." For some reason this seemed such a silly thing to say; it was quite obvious that this man was trustworthy, and Billy found himself trailing off, embarrassed.

"Your policeman won't be needed. We're specialists at this kind of thing."

Dropping his hand, the man rose, stepping lightly off the bottom most stair and moving with Billy as the boy went to unlock the cellar door. Strongly built, he was of average height, the curls in his unruly brown hair shifting as he moved and giving an almost leonine impression in conjunction with the beard and wide, toothsome smile. His presence beside the boy was comforting as the key went in to the lock and the handle turned.

"Coffee," said the apparition in the darkness beyond. A momentary flash of height, solid wiry strength, durable clothing and red rimmed eyes came to Billy as the man completely ignored both of them and made directly for the kitchen after slamming the cellar door behind him.

"Alice," gulped Billy in shock.

"Don't worry, she'll be fine. He's only checking your kitchen for... anomalies. Now, let's go in and have a warming drink and you can put us up to date on what has occurred thus far."

Together they moved towards the sounds of opening shelves, clinking crockery and running water.

Alice stared wide eyed at the two men. One was fiddling with one of her Dad's clocks, watching while the other questioned Billy intently as to what had happened. Both of them gave her a sort of funny feeling, especially the taller man with a shade of dark stubble across his chin. His eyes seemed to switch between blue, green and occasionally glinted red when the light struck them a certain way. They reminded her of cat's eyes the way they seemed to collect the light and throw it back out sometimes. Strong, sure hands moved over the surface of the time piece and opened the back to rewind the instrument.

"They've all wound down. It's that simple. Are you sure your father kept them properly?"

Billy nodded dumbly to the less than charming stranger. He'd already been over it once and saw that little would be gained by repetition. "Yes, Mr.... Say, I don't even know your names! Why haven't I thought of that until now," he said to himself more than anyone in particular.

While Billy was caught in an introspective moment, frowning and staring at the table, Alice carefully observed the two men glance sharply at each other, as if reading something from their opposing gazes.

#Well? I suppose we have to give them some names...#

#Why don't we just kill them and burn this place to the ground? No need to worry about names then.# A mental chuckle rose from the man as he put the now corrected clock down on the cabinet beside him.

#Come on, you know we have to find out what is happening here in order to stop it properly. We don't want something reforming out of the ashes and coming after our arses, now do we?#

#Certainly not, 'though I could think of someone who probably wouldn't mind that too much.#

The bearded man winced. #Eww. Grotty.#

#Exactly.#

#Hmm. Anyway, we're here as agents of a higher power or something.. can't quite recall exactly, so we'd better do the job properly.#

#Hah. You might be an agent of a higher power, not particularly difficult at your height, but I... Oh sod. A bit of it's coming back to me. We did agree to something, didn't we?#

#Afraid so. Though it's all more than a bit hazy. I think we got our drinks paid for.#

#Oh well. Fair enough. Likely to be any violence?" A shade of dreadful hope entered his gaze.

#We can but see. #

"Are you all right," asked Alice, tugging on the less scary man's coat.

Shaking himself out of his own thoughts, Billy looked up at the man. "What are your names."

"Well, he is Coffee," pointed at the other, "and I'm Rum."

"I didn't ask what you smelled of," Billy began to say, but managed to catch himself in time to alter it to: "I see." He collected himself. "Uh. Code names, are they?"

"In a way, yes," replied 'Rum', smiling again.

'Coffee' raised a sardonic eyebrow.

#Rum and Coffee? Oh, great code names. No one will suspect it of being us in a million years.#

#Oh, shut up. You couldn't have done any better. Anyway, they seem suitable, and it's no less silly than your standard use name.# A hint of the mischievious spread across Rum's expression.

#Yeah yeah, and your mother, Mr Packing Crate! But you're right, it is apt somehow. Doesn't mean I have to like it.#

Rum's grin widened, and, slowly, so did that of Coffee. Both children watched the two men rise and go toward the door before stopping and turning towards them.

"Come on Alice, Billy," said Rum. "We have to find your parents now, don't we?"

"We'll start in the upstairs room," added Coffee. "The last place they were seen. Move it, you two."

Dutifully the siblings joined hands and trailed along behind the figures of what they hoped were their saviours...

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Part Two