The Doc Justice Files- Scales on Stone part 5
by Direwolf

Chapter 5- In The Serpent's Heart

For the third time, Justin found himself in the cavern where the stone serpent vanished into the cave roof, a charcoal fire smoldering amid its coils. Someone had to replenish the fuel but so far he'd missed meeting them.

Justin took the silk map from his pocket and examined it closely, trying to decide where to look for Go-on's school friend. Nigel had ended up somewhere called ‘the heart of the serpent'. It made sense to think that Howard might have ended up in the same place.

"Great theory," Justin muttered. "But what or where is the heart of the serpent?"

His first thought was the temple on the surface, but that seemed too exposed. And the chamber below the temple was out since he'd been through it several times already. So it had to be somewhere else in the caves.

The map showed a number of chambers, but none were marked with anything like a heart symbol. It seemed he was going to have to search them all. Then, Justin noticed something he'd missed before. The alignment of the tunnels didn't look exactly random.

"It's Sanskrit!" he exclaimed.

When the map was aligned to face east, the shape of the interconnected tunnels formed words in Sanskrit. It read "In praise of two faced Serpent goddess". And in the center of the word serpent was a large chamber.

"That has to be it!" Justin traced his route with a fingertip. It looked like he had to go past the cell where he had found Go-on then turn inwards. It shouldn't be too hard to find his way.

Justin set off at a quick trot. He soon found himself back in the archway room over the chasm of snakes. He took his time crossing then moved on to the cave full of cells. A few yards past where he had found Go-on, the tunnel branched. Justin followed the map.

The cave sloped down. Justin was sure that he had dropped below sea level, yet still the limestone caves were dry. There had to be some sort of hidden pumps. But that would mean the pumps had been in place for centuries, considering the apparent age of the carvings. But the age of the caves was easier to place. The limestone could only have been cut by moving fresh water. That meant the last ice age at least.

Justin journeyed down past sheets of flow stone and forests of stalactites. The path was clearly marked by torch holes along the way. The torches were out but thick soot deposits by each showed that they had been used. And in places, he passed more veins of the anomalous black stone. It seemed to form part of a patch or block off some of the side caverns.

Justin paused to examine the odd black rock. It was very fine-grained, almost glassy like obsidian but lacking the vitreous shine. To test, Justin took a small hammer from his haversack and struck the stone. It rang like a bell but didn't chip or crack. Whatever it was, it was very tough.

"Odd," Justin murmured. He tried scratching the surface of the black rock but it was far harder then steel. Puzzled, Justin pressed on.

The feeling of descending into time grew the further he went. It was subtle things, the alcoves in the walls looked more heavily used, the path in the floor seemed carved more deeply, the air smelled of age. Then, from up ahead, Justin heard a faint murmur of a voice, the first sign of life he'd encountered since Go-on left. He quickened his pace. Ahead, a soft glow appeared and again, the smell of sweet smoke perfumed the air. But this time the incense held a richer, herbal aroma as well.

Justin took out his pistol and walked forward into a scene pulled from some dark dream.

The chamber was nearly fifty feet across, rising to an unknown height since the roof was lost in curving sheets of reddish brown flow stone like translucent curtains. Oil lamps in alcoves lit the cavern; the flowstone turning the soft firelight into long glowing wings in the twilight. It was like stepping into an organic cathedral growing out of the heart of the earth. Howard Pintar was there along with the old woman in a saffron colored robe. There were about halfway across the chamber. Between them a stone brazier smoked, the tendrils of thick incenses enfolding them both. He knelt on the stone floor before her. She held his head in her hands, her eyes locked on his as she chanted. Howard wasn't restrained in fact he seemed to be gripped in some sort of ecstatic trance.

But the most remarkable feature of the room was behind them both, near the far wall in what would have been the altar position if this were some sort of church.

There, a pool of water nearly fifteen feet across boiled and seethed. Thick structures of salt crystals glittered in the lamplight around the rim of the pool, indicating it had to be seawater. And in the center of the pool a black orb eight feet in diameter floated half submerged in the churning water. The orb spun, propelled by the turbulence of the water but held its position in the center of the pool. And Justin noticed something else odd. Though the boiling water splashed onto the huge sphere, it flowed off the surface as if it were oiled. No water clung to the stone. It was unmarred by salt encrustations.

"It looks like the veins of black stone!" Justin marveled.

The two people in the chamber seemed oblivious to his presence. Justin walked closer.

He realized two things. The first was that the herbal smelling incense had a narcotic component that focused the attention. Whatever he was looking at or considering seemed to become the most important thing in existence. The other was that the old woman was chanting the Hindu sutras. He voice was rich and powerful, the words filling the cavern and echoing in his mind. Never had he heard them give such vibrant life before.

Like iron drawn to a magnet, Justin walked closer, her words ringing through her mind.

"Stop it," A voice seemed to whisper in his ear."You can recognize a form of hypnosis, I know since I taught you!"

Justin shook his head. He could have sworn Fu Lee's voice had come to him. But it must have been an illusion, he rationalized. But the truth was that Fu Lee had taught him how some could force their will upon others, often aided with the juice of the poppy. He suspected some opiate was mixed with the incense. That would explain the focusing effect he felt

But knowing the source didn't make it any less compelling. The chant seemed to drive right through his ears into the core of his memory. He lurched forward a pace, then another. The need to fall to his knees and just listen felt like an overwhelming compulsion but he fought it, slowly inching across the floor until he stood beside the woman in yellow. The smoke was stronger, adding to the mesmerizing effect.

He knew the easy way. One shot and the voice would still, letting him take Howard away. But that felt wrong. She wasn't harming Howard, was she? So how could he simply kill her?

"Stop it!" Justin growled, the gun clenched in a death grip but at his side. He reached out with his free hand, took her shoulder, and shook her. "Stop it! I have to take him back!"

The woman turned and stared at Justin, her eyes impossibly large black pools. Through the drugged haze, Justin realized she hadn't noticed he was here until he announced himself. The drug had to be affecting her as well. At last her chant faltered, dying into silence. Only the boil of the restless seawater churning under the black orb filled the chamber.

"I need to take him back," Justin repeated, shaking her again.

"I know," the old woman said in Dravidian, "for you are Justice, appointed by Brahma to set the scales to right. He did not understand for he is of the dark face and I of the light. The Goddess has two faces, never forget. While she calls for blood, she also heals. Your friend is unharmed, I but taught him what you will need, what you all will need to face what comes."

Justin shook his head. It felt as if the fumes were reaching from his throat up to behind his eyes.

"I don't understand."

Her touch on his face was both strong and gentle. "No, but you will. For the dragon eggs are soon to open, they call to the old bloodlines summoning servants to them like the sea calls to rivers. But some of the bloodlines have been strengthened by a gift from time itself. You are their champion, Justin Collins. If any can stand against the Nagas and their servants it is you. This one may be able to guide you but the true war is yours."

"Dragon eggs? Nagas and servants? What do you mean?"

She gestured to the huge black orb floating in the boiling pool. "Long ago this was their world and they may make it theirs again. The ten hid themselves long ago. Two awakened, Tiamat and Grendal and the earth shook at their coming. But the old blood was true and slew what could not die. Now the other eight gather in the shadows, touching the minds of men in dreams and nightmares, luring with wealth and power. My opposite has fallen to them and even now sows the seeds he hopes will crack open the egg, though fortunately, the key to open them is lost. But what was lost may yet be found."

She stopped and took a long shuddering breath before continuing. "There is no time right now! He's coming and will try to stop you so you do not stop him. Go and take Howard Pintar with you. I have done all that I can to help you and doubt we will meet again in this lifetime."

Justin shook his head in an effort to clear away the drugged haze that wanted to cloud his thoughts and make each word she spoke an icon of truth. "What his this got to do with Captain Brackenberry? Who is the old man in white and why are you helping me?"

"You speak of Valikana, the high priest of this place just as I am priestess. Two sides of a single coin. Just as man creates so does he destroy! All things in opposition, my young friend. The dynamic turbulence between forces in opposition is what drives the wheel of creation. The Captain is his and will set a spark that will explode across the world like a fire tossed into dry grass if given the chance to kindle. And I help you since it is the right course for my karma and yours. Never forget, the goddess has two faces. I am one, he is the other. Now go!"

The final words cracked like a whip and Justin obeyed without thinking. He took Howard by the shoulder and urged him to his feet. Howard obeyed like a sleepwalker, stumbling along under Justin's direction. The cloying smoke of the drugged incenses faded as he made his way towards the exit from the cavern. Behind him, the pool of churning seawater with its inexplicable flotsam hissed like a cauldron of angry snakes.

Once the light from the chamber known as the Serpent's heart faded, Justin switched on his flashlight. Howard still stumbled on, numbly following Justin's urgings like a puppet worked by invisible strings.

"I hope he comes out of this soon," Justin muttered, "or I'm going to have a devil of a time explaining this to Go-on."

For the moment at least, Howard didn't cooperate. Justin kept herding him through the caverns. They moved up through the deeper tunnels, passed the cell where Go-on had been confined and then on into the cave where the thin black archway spanned the serpent filled crevice. There, Justin paused to consider his options. Howard was still too far gone to navigate across on his own.

"Looks like I get to carry another one," Justin muttered.

He took Howard in a fireman's carry, balanced the flashlight as best he could and started across the slender arch of black stone. It was just as slippery as he remembered it. Justin set each foot down with exacting care. Any misstep would send them both over the side into the hissing carpet of snakes writhing on the floor of the crevice. Justin knew that meant death. If the fall didn't kill them, the countless cobra bites they were sure to experience would be just as fatal.

"One step at a time and keep focused on the arch." Justin reminded himself.

The stone rose slowly underfoot until at long last, he reached the crest. Only then did he allow himself to look up to the way ahead. And then he found he wasn't alone.

An old man in a white robe stood in the passageway leading from the chamber. His dark face was a maze of wrinkles from which a pair of brilliant black eyes stared out. He was hairless and his robe was spotless white, the white of sun-bleached bones. Though hardly more than five feet tall, the old man radiated an aura of power and dread. The man's black eyes regarded Justin with cold malice and Justin had the sudden idea that perhaps the ancient goddess the priestess spoke of stared out through this man's eyes. It was not a comforting thought.

The old priest drew his head back as if to spit a curse but a slight, chilling smile curved his lips as if he had just realized everything was going as planned.

"Kill the interlopers." His voice was soft and without concern.

Only then did Justin notice the two Dacoits flanking the old priest held oil lamps. They set the lights down, drew iron knives and stalked lithely forward

Amid a cloud of blue-white gasoline smoke, Lord Gawaine Paget maneuvered the small boat alongside the worn stone pier. The eastern sky was showing the first hint of dawn. Go-on jumped from the boat and quickly tied off the bowline. All was still except for a few foraging rats.

"Right-o," the Englishman said, his shoulders square. "Time to get to work."

He set off at a rapid stride.

The streets of Bombay were nearly still in the predawn darkness. A few trash pickers moved through the gloom, gathering what bits of usable rubbish they could from the garbage piles. More rats and a few feral dogs fought over the leavings. Go-on ignored them all. As he walked, his mind sorted over what he knew, what he suspected, and what he feared might be true.

As well as the all-important question of whom could he trust.

By the time he had reached his hotel, Go-on had decided on a course of action, one that while dangerous offered the best possible outcome. One thing he couldn't do was sound any sort of general alarm. That, he was sure, would be almost as bad as letting the mysterious priest's plan unfold. The reaction of the colonial authorities was bound to be harsh and might be just what was needed to trigger a bloody revolution. Too many lives were at stake for that.

Instead, Go-on stopped at the hotel desk and politely asked the sleepy clerk to send a wire for him. One of the advantages of an upper class education in England was the network of contacts it provided. He knew an old school friend was commanding the British Cruiser Reliant, one of the war ships accompanying the Prince of Wales on his Far East junket. The telegram was pleasantly chatty and ended with a request that the captain send a boat over to a certain island to collect up a stranded friend of Go-on's who had missed his own ride off the island. Go-on had no doubt that within the hour Justin would have some trustworthy help on the island.

If it wasn't too late already.

But Go-on refused to give that dark thought any credence. Justin was the best friend he had as well as being one of the best people he had ever met. The world needed men and women like him far too much to squander one like this.

Telegram dispatched, Go-on rapidly climbed the grand staircase and found his room. There, he took the time to clean up and put on a fresh set of clothing. Where he was going, a disheveled man claiming peerage would be shunted to the side until his claims could be authenticated. Go-on didn't think he'd have time for that lengthy process. So in record time, Lord Gawaine emerged from his room. Freshly shaved, hair impeccable and dressed in a natty morning suite. The slender from of a concealed revolver was scarcely noticeable tucked into the small of his back under the cream colored coat.

Down in the lobby, the first early risers were turning out to enjoy a day in India. They were met by the late crowd who were seeking their beds come dawn after a night of carousing. And of course, the native guides were clustered by the doors offering their services to travelers, each promising sights no other guide could offer. Go-on wondered how many of these smiling men had iron knives inscribed with scales hidden under their suites or robes.

Go-on climbed into the fifth cab waiting in line by the door, collecting a few odd looks. To the untrained eye, it seemed strange that Go-on wouldn't take the first cab since it was closer and all the waiting taxies seemed roughly equal in terms of quality and cleanliness. But any who played in "the Great Game" would understand. By choosing a cab at random, he minimized the chance of ending up in a planted taxi.

"The governor's mansion, my good man!" Go-on told the driver.

The streets of Bombay were waking up quickly. Voices from mosques called the faithful Moslems to prayer while the Hindu majority began another day's commerce. Monks in saffron yellow robes strolled the streets while an endless stream of food-laden carts wound through the roads towards the many markets. Beggars were hard at work calling out piteously for charity.

The taxi ground to a halt with a clashing of gears and a cloud of oil-stained smoke in front of the huge walled mansion and grounds that held the unofficial British Empire Colonial Governor's residence whenever he came to Bombay. It was here that the Prince of Wales and his entire entourage were staying. Go-on deduced that while this visit was unofficial, it was likely the Prince was on a diplomatic mission to Viceroy Montbatten as well. The situation in India was growing tenser with each passing day and the Home Office had to be concerned. India was a vital link to the British colonies in the Far East, a source of great wealth unto itself as well as rich prize in the eyes of Russia. All good reasons to hold the subcontinent. But the independence movement was not to be ignored, and it if were suppressed the land could go up in flames that like of which had not been seen since the Sepoy mutiny in the last century. And the colonial government was very aware that if it came to rebellion, the British forces were badly outnumbered and Russia would be the first to step in on the side of the rebels.

"Workers of the world, unite and all that," Go-on murmured as he paid the driver, giving the man a generous tip then turning towards the gate.

The guards at the gate wore full dress uniforms but their rifles were loaded and ready to use. Go-on addressed them politely and showed them a packet of papers that were normally concealed in his luggage. They identified him as a special agent of the Foreign Services branch with a remarkably high government clearance. The guards let him in and even phoned Major Gray, the watch officer of the security detail here at the mansion. Moments later, a rather confused Major Gray joined Go-on in one of the drawing rooms on the lower floor.

"What can I do for you, my Lord?" the major asked after giving Lord Gawaine a rather smart salute.

"Oh, go on! None of this ‘sir' or ‘lordship' nonsense, my good fellow! Just think of me as a lesser son of a noble family who got shuffled off where he could do the least damage. Now, no need for a general alarm, but I do need to know a few things that might, might I say, have a bearing on security for his nibs. Now, I know Captain Brakenberry has been missing most of the night. Has he shown back up?"

"Yes, sir several hours ago in fact."

"Excellent. And what sort of tale has he been telling of his nocturnal adventures?"

Gray looked puzzled for a few moments.

"Not much at all, sir. Said he'd gotten turned around in the back streets and only just found his way back. No need to panic he said, and then went off to his room."

For a moment, the cheery smile on Go-on's face slipped, showing the deep concern. Then the smile was back, as bright and empty as always.

"Well, jolly good that. Don't suppose you know where the captain is right now?"

"On his way to the Green Dining Room, I should imagine. He, the Viceroy, the Prince and have a morning briefing scheduled."

"And where is the Green Dining Room? I thought I'd pop in for a visit long as I'm here."

"Back of the manor. Out the door, two halls down and turn right. It's at the end of the hall overlooking the east garden."

"Thank you major. That should be all. If I need anything else, I'll have someone ring you up or some such."

With that, Go-on stepped out of the room, heading for the back of the manor. Behind him, Major Gray watched him go with a rather puzzled expression. Go-on didn't notice. He walked as quickly as he could and wondered if he was already too late.

To be continued...