Sink: Old Man's Tale Read online

  They wrapped themselves around his legs and arms like children desperate to go on a theme park ride. He pried off their fingers on one hand, and they would clamp down harder with the other. When he reached for the second hand they gripped with the released hand again.

  “Get off me!” Graham said.

  He looked back. A horde of them were running after him. Graham turned and ran, slightly slowed by the miniature men. It was only when they released their legs and dragged them along the ground, hooking around anything they could find that Graham really slowed.

  Graham raised his fists to beat at them, but they were so small and delicate-looking that he felt like he would be striking children. He couldn’t do it.

  The guards were catching up, shouting in their small voices like kids on a playground.

  Graham, with more than a little hesitancy, pushed aggressively at the figures on his legs, prying at them and finally, with no other choice, punched at them. They were tougher than they looked, and, not an experienced fighter, Graham wasn’t used to dealing damage. He pried one of the little men off and tossed him aside. The others clung on like limpets, giving no inch.

  “Come on, guys!” Graham said. “What have I ever done to you? Let me go!”

  The horde caught up with him. They jumped, piling on top of him, wrapping around him with their strong bodies. Graham disappeared beneath them like a rugby scrum.

  Chapter Twelve

  The guards led Jeremiah toward a castle hewn from a rock that rose up from the middle of the huge cavernous space. They wound down identical corridors until they came to a large room decorated sparsely with well-appointed furniture. The guards closed the door behind Jeremiah. He heard the lock click.

  The carpet was thin, a vivid red, like spilled blood. The cabinets had been refurbished to a high standard. Jeremiah noticed because it was something his wife had spent her life doing. She was a carpenter by trade, rare for a woman, especially one as dainty as she was. She had the skill to create really beautiful, ornate pieces, and was commissioned far and wide by people all over the world.

  The guards hadn’t answered his questions, but they were gentle. Jeremiah tried each of the three doors in the room. They were all locked.

  He heard a commotion down the corridor. The set of doors he’d been brought through banged open and a body was tossed inside. A guard gently placed Graham’s jacket on top of the heap, and then vacated.

  Graham didn’t move for a while, preferring to just lay on the floor.

  “Are you all right?” Jeremiah said.

  “Just… leave me alone for a bit,” Graham said.

  He stared into space. Then finally, he sat up. He rubbed at his ankles and wrists. His clothing was wrinkled and scuffed with dirt, but he was in otherwise good shape.

  “How far did you get?” Jeremiah said.

  “Far enough to know there are thousands of these little monsters,” Graham said. “I can’t believe this. I’ve died and gone to Munchkin heaven.”

  He got up and moved to the first two doors. They were locked.

  “I already checked,” Jeremiah said.

  Graham checked the last door anyway.

  “Locked,” he said.

  He pressed his eye to a door crack and peered out. Next he tried the windows, grumbling to himself. Then he looked out of the huge arched windows. They peered down on the town from a great distance. No way they were getting out that way. There was nowhere to run.

  Jeremiah took a seat at one of the large tall-backed dining chairs.

  “We’ll just have to see what they want with us,” he said.

  “How can you be calm at a moment like this?” Graham said.

  “Because there’s no use in getting ourselves all worked up for nothing,” Jeremiah said. “Will you sit down? You’re making me dizzy.”

  But Graham didn’t sit down. He pressed his hands against each of the ornate panels around the room.

  “You’re never going to pull those panels off,” Jeremiah said. “They’re fixed to the wall. It’d be easier to tear the castle down.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” Graham said.

  “Perhaps I should run as fast as I can and leave a defenseless old man to the whims of God-knows-who,” Jeremiah said. “That sounds like a better plan.”

  “Now you’re thinking,” Graham said. “I would have come back for you.”

  “Sure you would,” Jeremiah said. “The moment after you changed your name and moved to Brazil.”

  “Why Brazil?” Graham said. “I prefer Paraguay.”

  He pressed his lips together.

  “Would you have done any differently if the tables were turned?” he said.

  Probably not. But Jeremiah wasn’t about to admit that. Holding guilt over someone could have its uses. It would make Graham think twice about doing it again. But looking at Graham’s nervous disposition, perhaps that was just wishful thinking. He would be off the moment he had the chance.

  “What do you think they want with us?” Graham said.

  “Steak, I shouldn’t wonder,” Jeremiah said.

  “Steak?” Graham said.

  “They’ll go for me first, I suspect,” Jeremiah said. “Use me as some kind of entrée. They’ll certainly fatten you up first. Good, lean meat like you. They wouldn’t waste that.”

  “Thanks for the reassurance,” Graham said.

  “What were you looking for in my drawers, anyway?” Jeremiah said. “My prized matchstick collection?”

  “Nothing,” Graham said. “I wasn’t looking for anything.”

  “A man doesn’t break into an old man’s house to admire the furniture,” Jeremiah said.

  “I didn’t break in,” Graham said.

  “The hole in the wall would beg to differ,” Jeremiah said. “You big city people are all the same. You come to the country and you think because you’ve got money you can push the rest of us around.”

  “I don’t think I can push you around,” Graham said.

  “It certainly felt like pushing,” Jeremiah said. “Your boss is a real piece of work.”

  “I’m not my boss,” Graham said.

  “Same suit, same hairstyle,” Jeremiah said. “If the suit fits.”

  Graham ground his teeth.

  “What does it matter now, anyway?” he said. “We’re trapped miles beneath the surface, in some kind of midget hell. It doesn’t matter what I’m wearing or where I work. We have to figure out a way to get out of here.”

  “You ran the length of the town,” Jeremiah said. “What did you see?”

  “Tunnels,” Graham said. “Lots and lots of tunnels.”

  “One of them must lead back up to the surface, don’t you think?” Jeremiah said.

  “Maybe,” Graham said. “But if one does, why are all these people still here?”

  The tall doors opened and a small figure entered. He was dressed in a long red flowing cloak that trailed ten feet behind him. He wore a large gold amulet and walked with the grandeur of a Caesar before the Senate, head held high, chest out, taking long loping strides. He wore shoes with high heels and hair brushed up to look taller.

  He looked Graham and Jeremiah over, barely moving his head, only his eyes working up and down. Then his harsh expression melted and he smiled broadly at them.

  “Hello there!” he said. “I am Leader. Welcome to Api Penyucian.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Graham and Jeremiah just stared at the little figure. Graham was the first to find his tongue.

  “You speak English?” he said.

  “We all can,” Leader said.

  “But none of the others spoke to me when I asked them questions,” Jeremiah said.

  “Or when I swore at them,” Graham said.

  “They’re under orders never to speak unless during the course of duty,” Leader said. “Makes for dull conversation, but very efficient guards.”

  Graham and Jeremiah exchanged a glance.

  “I apologize if our guards we
re not careful with you,” Leader said. “They are not used to handling Surfacers.”

  “Surfacers?” Jeremiah said. “What’s a Surfacer?”

  “Our word for people like you – from up top,” Leader said, “and not down here like us.”

  “What are you called?” Graham said with a snort. “Undergrounders?”

  “Actually, yes,” Leader said.

  “Oh,” Graham said.

  “Do you get many Surfacers down here?” Jeremiah said.

  “No,” Leader said. “It’s been quite a while since we had a fresh Surfacer down here.”

  Fresh. Maybe they were going to eat them after all. Graham gulped.

  “Are you hungry?” Leader said. “You look a little thin.”

  Graham vehemently shook his head.

  “Where exactly are we?” Jeremiah said.

  Leader smiled.

  “If we knew that, we would have been out of here decades ago,” Leader said. “We know we’re underground – far underground – but we don’t precisely know where.”

  “Deep underground?” Graham said. “But… we didn’t fall far. Did we?”

  “I wish you hadn’t,” Leader said. “But you may have fallen farther than you realize.”

  Jeremiah cocked his head to one side. Something about Leader’s statement had piqued his interest, but he said nothing.

  “How did you and your people come to be here?” Graham said.

  “Rather like you,” Leader said. “Our tribe fell through a sinkhole hundreds of years ago. A huge one. Our ancestors were tribesmen, out on a small island off the coast of Indonesia. Our whole island was swallowed. We’ve been down here ever since.”

  “Centuries?” Jeremiah said. “Why haven’t you found a way out yet?”

  “We’ve been digging,” Leader said. “Digging in every direction we can, trying to pick up hints of where we are and where we should be heading. It’s tough when you don’t know your starting place.”

  “What do you do for food?” Jeremiah said.

  Graham glared at him. Of all the questions to ask.

  “Roots, mainly,” Leader said. “Bugs, crushed roots, and Mush, something we discovered while digging. Anything we can get our hands on, really. Another reason to dig in every direction. For food. We have hit water and oil many times and lost many of our people, but we keep digging.”

  “How is it you can speak English?” Graham said. “Why not Indonesian or some other language?”

  “Both you and our ancestors met in the past,” Leader said. “They traded. Our ancestors learned your culture and language.”

  “That’s all very interesting,” Graham said with folded arms. “But how do we get out of here?”

  “There is no getting out of here,” Leader said. “At least, not yet. Come for a walk with me. I’ll explain.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “We are descended from a tribe of people from the surface,” Leader said. “Their name has long since been forgotten, but we remain. Down here we each have a job, a task. It gives us meaning and direction. Cooks are called Cooks. Diggers, Diggers. The Leader, Leader. We are a functioning machine with many intricate parts.”

  Small globes of light made a latticework of tiny glowing orbs around the great dome. They lit the whole town below. Little people in earth-colored clothes moved with purpose, some into the town, most out of it, toward the narrow tunnels that ran from the town at regular intervals, like a giant clock face with hundreds of hours.

  “Most of the folk here are miners,” Leader said. “They dig all day, gradually reaching out, farther and farther away. Sometimes we strike water or a metal deposit. Then we tunnel in another direction.”

  “Mining dwarfs,” Graham said, his voice flat.

  Jeremiah kept his eyes off Graham for fear he would burst out laughing.

  “They’re not dwarfs,” Jeremiah managed to say. “They’re just a little vertically challenged.”

  “Little’s the right word,” Graham mumbled.

  “Only the tallest and strongest become guards,” Leader said.

  Jeremiah and Graham shared a look. Even the tallest guard didn’t reach their chests.

  “Hi ho,” one of the little men said, raising his hand in friendly salute to a fellow miner.

  “I’m saying nothing,” Graham said.

  The guards followed behind them, watching the locals closely. The town folk shied away and kept a safe distance. Jeremiah took note of it, but said nothing. If a people were afraid of those responsible for order, what would that mean for them as strangers?

  “How is it you became leader here?” Jeremiah said.

  “We pass down responsibilities from parent to child,” Leader said. “My father was leader, as was his father, and so on, through the ages. Is this a fair system? No. But it prevents bickering and in-fighting. We are united in a single goal: to get to the surface. Once we are out, we can immerse ourselves in the cultures of those on the surface. But right now, down here, we need to focus.”

  The little people were busy about their work, carrying pickaxes, shovels and other digging equipment. They entered the tunnels, turning the dome into a ghost town.

  “Your ancestors gave my ancestor this amulet,” Leader said, gesturing to his gold necklace. “It’s written in a language we don’t understand.”

  Graham looked at it, but it was all Greek to him.

  “Looks like it’s Latin,” Jeremiah said.

  “Can you read it?” Leader said.

  “I haven’t studied since I was a boy,” Jeremiah said. “Let me take a closer look.”

  He held the amulet in his palm and turned his head to the side as he read it. He paused, blinking, before turning the amulet over. Jeremiah frowned for a moment, mumbling under his breath.

  “What does it say?” Leader said.

  “I’m not sure,” Jeremiah said. “It’s been a while since I studied Latin. But I think it says something like ‘Blessings to he who carries me’. It’s a good luck charm.”

  Leader smiled.

  “For generations we pondered its meaning,” he said. “Now you have given us the answer. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Jeremiah said.

  Leader caught Graham peering at the tunnels around the town.

  “You are not prisoners here,” Leader said. “You are free to come and go as you please. But bear in mind that right now there is no way out. If there was, none of us would be here. But you are free to walk around as much as you want. You’ll have to get used to the stares.”

  The young children – so small they looked like dolls – waved and stared at them, eyes wide.

  “They’ve never seen surface people before,” Leader said.

  Jeremiah cracked a rare smile and waved at the kids. Their eyes grew wider still.

  “I don’t understand how you could have been down here so long and not found a way out,” Graham said.

  “The route to the surface is not an easy one,” Leader said. “It is not straight, and must go around many obstacles. Sometimes there are more obstacles than earth. And we dig by hand.”

  “Hand?” Graham said. “Why don’t you build a machine to dig?”

  “We have tried,” Leader said. “But every attempt ends in failure.”

  “Why?” Jeremiah said. “You have a large population down here. I would have thought you could have trained some bright people to engineer a digger for you.”

  “The digger is not the problem,” Leader said. “It is the power source. No matter how hard we try we cannot make one that works.”

  “And yet you thrive down here,” Jeremiah said.

  “We are human,” Leader said. “We do what we must to survive. Come, I will show you what we know of your world.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Leader led them to a large building. The wall was sheer, rising up and up, bending back upon itself until it made a round dome-like shape overhead.

  Arranged on plinths were a series of objects t
hey recognized immediately: garbage from the surface, arranged as if it were beautiful art. Tin cans stood in a pyramid. Pet accessories suspended from wires, giving the illusion of invisible animals. There were genuine artefacts from the ancient world too, but they were mixed with the new, placed on an equal footing with the junk.

  “These are all the artefacts we have from the surface,” Leader said.

  “You kept it all?” Graham said.

  “Every scrap we’ve found,” Leader said.

  “Why?” Jeremiah said.

  “The reasons are two-fold,” Leader said. “First, we like to remind ourselves of what our goal is. Faced with dirt walls all day can get to you. But if there’s hope, a sign of something more out there that you’re trying to achieve, then it’s worth keeping those items on show for everyone to see at any time.”

  “What’s the second reason?” Jeremiah said.

  “So we can backward engineer what we’ve found,” Leader said. “Often, the technology is beyond us and there’s nothing we can learn. But at other times we can learn a great deal.”

  On a flat plinth behind a piece of sheet glass was a map of the Earth, with all its continents and countries clearly labelled. It was a little old and dated.

  “One of our greatest finds,” Leader said. “Tell me, is it accurate?”

  “It is,” Jeremiah said. “Though some of the countries no longer exist.”

  “Perhaps you can update it for us,” Leader said.

  Something caught Jeremiah’s eye.

  “This must be one of the diggers you were telling us about,” Jeremiah said. “It’s a lot bigger than I imagined.”

  It was about the size of an SUV. On the front were a series of large drill bits, all turned and facing inwards, like a monster’s jutting teeth.

  “That’s right,” Leader said. “It’s one of the only machines we have down here. We’ve tried everything we can think of to get it to work, but nothing works. We backward engineered it as best we can, but the technology is so advanced it’s difficult to make much progress. It’s like having half the instructions, and having to figure the rest out yourself but without really being able to understand the first half in the first place.”