James Palmer - Shadows Through Time

The Swinburne-thing’s body twitched spasmodically, and the creature wearing the poet’s body had to steady himself, closing his eyes for a moment. “You are a clever, clever ape, Captain Burton,” said the Swinburne-thing when he opened his eyes. “I must say I am quite fond of you, and of this period in your history. Not to mention this vessel I currently wear. I will tell you, however, that your friend Swinburne’s body has a singular physiognomy. I am keeping open a tenuous telepathic link to his mind in the deep past—it helps us learn and thus assimilate to this time period faster—and I am receiving the strangest impulses from him.” He shivered and shook again. “My hat!”

“Algy?” said Burton, rushing toward Swinburne’s form once more, grabbing him and throwing him against the wall once more. Pinning Swinburne’s arms with his elbows, Burton began a series of mesmeric touches on the poet’s face and forehead.

“Stop it!” said the Swinburne-thing.

“Algy,” Burton intoned. “If you can hear me, fight them. Fight them and come back to us.”

“My Aunt Betty’s bonnet,” Swinburne squealed. “Richard? Is that you? I’d give my right arm for a drink. If I had any arms. Bloody hell.”

The Swinburne-thing thrashed in his grip, uttering some vile epithet in his guttural, inhuman tongue. He kicked Burton in the shins, causing the explorer to release his grip and back away from the writhing figure. The Swinburne-thing said something else in that bizarre language and ceased his spasmodic twitching. “Do not do that again. I cannot guarantee the safety of your friend if you do. My kind can make of his stay a paradise or a hell. The choice is yours.”

Nash and Goforth returned to the room. “It is time,” said the Goforth-thing.

The Swinburne-thing nodded. “Very well. Let’s proceed.”

“What about him?” said the Nash-thing, pointing to Burton.

“He is free to stay or go as he wishes,” said the Swinburne-thing. “He cannot harm us without harming those whose bodies we have usurped.” The Swinburne-thing straightened his lapels as he walked past Burton toward the room’s exit. “You are welcome to stay and usher in the coming of Yog-Sothoth. You strike me as the kind of man who prefers to see his doom coming toward him, rather than slinking up behind him in the night. Until then…”

The three Awakened left the room. Burton composed himself before following them out. He received a few stares from several of the Awakened’s so-called acolytes, but no one tried to molest him as he left the crowded hall. Herbert and Professor Challenger awaited him out front.

“Thank heavens,” said Herbert. “I was about to call the police.”

“What did you hope to accomplish by going in there alone?” boomed Challenger. “I’m beginning to think you are as mad as I.”

Burton smiled up at the zoologist. “I learned their plan. I also found a weakness.”

“Perhaps we should go to the police,” said Herbert as they walked up the street and away from the former Theosophic meeting hall. Burton had just finished telling them all that had transpired with Swinburne in the back room. “Where’s your friend Abberline?”

“I told you before we can’t arrest them. That will only put a bandage on the wound,” said Burton. “Staunching the flow of blood, when the wound must be sutured shut. The court could not hold them indefinitely, and as soon as they were released they’d continue with their plan.”

“Or leap out of Swinburne and the others and into someone else,” added Challenger sourly.

Burton nodded. “My point is, they have an eternity in which to scheme; we don’t.”

“This is madness,” rumbled Challenger. I’ve never heard such rot. And yet I’ve seen enough to know our straits are indeed dire.”

“It boggles the mind,” said Herbert. “To think that our universe is not a single cog endlessly turning, but a multifaceted jewel. The implications are…” his voice trailed off.

“We’ve all seen it,” said Burton. “In fact, I believe someone has shown us glimpses of these other facets for a reason.”

“But who?” said Challenger.

“And how?” demanded Herbert.

“I don’t know,” said Burton. “But I think I know a way to find out. Come.”

Burton hailed a carriage and gave the driver an address several blocks away.

They rode in nervous silence, Challenger the most nervous of all, casting a wary, bloodshot eye out the moving carriage at the passersby, his keen gaze no doubt looking for shoggoths.

Twenty minutes later they arrived at their destination. Challenger scowled when he saw the familiar brick storefront and the wooden sign emblazoned with the baleful all-seeing eye. “Bollocks. Not the Lady of the Eye again.”

“Yes,” said Burton. “She was of great help to me during our last adventure. Perhaps she can shed light on these strange visions we’ve all been having.”

“Why not?” said Herbert as he alighted from the carriage. “It makes as much sense as anything else we’ve seen since getting caught up in each other’s lives.”

Herbert and Challenger followed Burton up the narrow path. Burton opened the door to the tinkling of a tiny bell set above the portal. The place was just as they had left it, dimly lit and smelling of incense. The proprietor floated toward them in loose-fitting, wine-colored robes. “Captain Burton. I knew you would return.”

“Hello, Lady Helena. We need your help.”

“Of course,” she said, frowning. “Oh, you poor man. Your aura is in such disarray. Your spirit is fractured. I can sense other instances of you lashing out. Come, have a seat.”

Burton caught Challenger and Herbert rolling their eyes at one another, but he ignored them. A year ago he would have joined them in their derision. But now, he wasn’t so sure. Now, this was the only thing that made any sense.

“Give me your hand,” said Lady Helena, examining Burton’s palm closely. “Oh my. Your lifeline is fractured, branching off into tiny rivulets.” She put his hand down and looked at him from across the little table. “But that is not why you are here.”

“No,” said Burton.

“You are here because someone is trying to contact you across a great distance.”

“I believe so, yes,” said the explorer. “Can you help me?”

Lady Helena glanced nervously at Herbert and Challenger before returning her gaze to the explorer. “I am not sure. Everything is in disarray today. There are dark forces drawing power.”

“The Awakened,” said Challenger. Lady Helena stared up at him.

“They are trying to summon some entity by the name of Yog,” Burton began, scowling. “What was it? Yog? Yog?”

“Yog-Sothoth,” said Lady Helena, slumping back in her seat. “I was afraid of this. No one should even know that name. To so much as speak it is to invite chaos.”

“I was afraid of that,” mused Herbert.

“These Awakened you’ve no doubt read of in the papers are not ordinary men,” said Burton. “They are alien beings from another time.”

Helena gasped. “That explains why the planes are in chaos. Both this one and the spirit realms.”

“Well, I don’t know about all of that,” said Burton, “but I think I can stop them. If I can communicate with whoever is trying to help me.”

She stared at Burton for a long moment. “The path will be difficult. These are not ordinary spirits or astral beings. But I believe I can help you reach a state where they can reach out to you.”

“Burton nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Once more Helena led Burton to the couch, and the explorer lay upon it, closing his eyes. “You are a practitioner of Sufi meditation, yes?”