Martyn Vaughan - The Cave of Shadows

She resumed her exploration of this building in which she found herself. No longer was she merely shown visions, now she was part of the vision.

And so it was she came again into the large room with the table at one end. She looked around but seemed to be alone and so she went up to the table and stopped when she was close enough to read the words upon it.

is what she read and then she saw that on the table were two keys, one green and one red. Beyond the table there was a room which had a transparent door and she could see that the room beyond had shelves with books upon them just like the corridor she had recently traversed. She came up to the table and saw that between the keys was another piece of writing. This time it said:

“The books in this room are to be read only by High Officials. They contain works by so-called thinkers of the Degenerates and are kept here to show how far from the truth the human mind can sink. They are not to be looked at by ordinary ranks.”

Shana felt a thrill of hope; perhaps here she would find out more about the enemies of the Protectorate and how this bizarre world had come about. She reached for the nearest key.

And became instantly aware that two shapes had appeared on either side of her.

She turned, somehow knowing what she would see.

And she was not wrong. On either side of her stood two squat, repulsive forms with squarish heads bearing wide lipless mouths. Their eyes were unnaturally crystalline and glowed dimly with an inner ruby light. They were short, their heads coming up to just above her hips. They were not Akraz and Zarka reborn but were disquietingly similar.

‘Hello Shana,’ the one on the left said, looking directly up at her. The other also said ‘Hello Shana’ but she did not bother to turn to look at him. The first said, ‘My name is…’

She put up a hand, palm facing him. ‘Don’t tell me your name. It will make it easier for me when I kill you.’

The creature’s expression did not change, for its face did not seem to possess sufficient mobility to carry different looks. ‘You may find that difficult. Perhaps you have not remembered that in here you do not have a weapon.’

Shana felt a stab of a sudden chill. Of course – she was not physically here and could not possibly have a weapon. But if she was not actually here – could she be harmed here?

‘Oh yes, you can come to grief here,’ the other said behind her, ‘if that is what you’re thinking.’

Shana walked slightly backwards so she had both of them in her view.

‘And what do you want?’ she asked dully.

Both creatures had now turned so they were directly facing her.

‘We know what you want. You want to look at the forbidden books of the Degenerates, to wallow in their effeminate filth. But you are not a High Official.’

‘And so?’

‘And so you must pass a test. If you pass you can have the key to open the door to the forbidden books.’

‘And if I simply go back to where I came from?’

‘We will not let you go back. Try it.’

She touched the top of her head. The visualiser was not there.

‘We have hidden it from you. Pass the test and we will return it.’

‘And if I fail the test?’

‘Then you will stay here for ever and ever and we will play together.’

Never had Shana heard the word “play” carry such sinister overtones.

‘Now come up to the table, Shana.’

They pointed to the two keys and the one on the right said, ‘One key opens the door to the forbidden books, the other does nothing. Well, not exactly nothing – it will open our playroom for you.’

Shana felt her fear ebb slightly and a pulse of burning anger begin to replace it.

‘What is the test?’ she demanded, although in truth she had already guessed it.

‘For the purpose of this test, one of us always tells the truth; the other always lies. You can ask one of us one question only about which key is the correct one. After you have asked the question you will receive a reply and we will then tell you whether you will be staying to play with us.’

Shana looked into the face of the creature which was speaking. Was the mouth jerking as if attempting to form a smile?

‘We do hope you’ll be staying to play with us.’

Silence fell. Then the other creature spoke: ‘We have completed our explanation. You must speak now and you must ask the question.’

Shana looked at the table and the two keys: one green, one red. She must not panic, she must still the whirlpool her thoughts had become.

Moments passed. The silence seemed to hang heavily over her like a suffocating cloak.

Then she had it.

She turned to the being which had spoken first and said: ‘Which key would the other creature say was the correct one?’

Neither of them moved or made any signs of the beginnings of emotion. Then the one she had addressed said: ‘The red key.’

Triumphantly she picked up the green one.

Both creatures suddenly made a lunge towards her. She tossed the key on the floor behind her, stepped back, softened her knees and raised her arms, adopting a fighting position.

‘Is the Protectorate home to creatures who do not keep their word?’ she snarled, ‘I have no sword but I will take you down!’

Still they came on.

Ready to fight, she decided on a final stratagem.

‘The Lord Korok will not be pleased with your cowardice.’

They stopped, turned to look at each other.

And vanished.

They did not become translucent, transparent or misty.

They just vanished.

Shana wiped her forehead and then touched her scalp. The visualiser was back.

Once again Jon found himself looking down on an unconscious Shana. She had torn the visualiser off her head and immediately fallen into a deep sleep in which she lay completely motionless except for her breathing.

He paced back and forth in the room: What if she didn’t come out of it this time, if she had pushed herself too far?

It was then he heard a movement behind him and spinning around was overjoyed to see her sitting up, and not just sitting up but with a broad smile on her face!

He rushed over to her. ‘Shana are you all right?’

She continued smiling and swung her feet onto the floor.

‘Yes I’m alright and I won’t be going back in. Jon, I’ve found it!’

‘Found it? What are you talking about?’

She reached up and held his face between her hands. ‘Jon, I found books that weren’t written by the Protectorate!’

He looked puzzled.

‘Jon, they were written by the people who were conquered by the Protectorate, or at least, those who inspired that civilisation.’

‘Go on.’

‘The names meant nothing to me but the books talked of cultures called Classical Greece, the Renaissance, the Enlightenment.’

Jon looked singularly unimpressed. ‘Go on.’

‘The books talked of people like Siddhartha Gautama, of Immanuel Kant and many others. Jon, I was in there for periods and periods!’

‘You were not,’ Jon said in annoyed tones, ‘Do you think I would have let you in there that long!’

She ignored him. ‘But there was one man whose writing gave me the answer!’

Jon looked sceptical but he gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

‘If you have it then please tell me. I’d really like to know.’

She seemed to look past him, through him as she said in an increasingly excited voice:

‘There was a man called Plato who wondered long and hard about the nature of reality. He told a tale of people who were imprisoned in a cave with their backs to the entrance so all they could see was the wall in front of them. And as things happened outside the cave, as people passed by, their shadows were cast on the wall.’