The Concurrencies Part IV

Strange forces are gathering at the Devil's Stone...

Part I is here Part II is here and Part III is here

Back at the George, Jim had just finished taking the last order for pub lunches when Bill Thirkettle entered the bar, hauling a more bedraggled than usual Doggit with him.

“Alright Bill. Don’t usually see thee of a Sunday lunch. Usual is it?”

Bill nodded “I’ll take a pint, just the one though. Wouldn't usually, this early, neither, but after what I’ve just seen…!”

“What’s that then, Bill?”

“Listen, you know what we were talking about last night, them lot as have been ‘ere before?”

“Aye”

“Well, I’ve just seen them up on’t Addlebrough, right. All of ‘em. I couldn’t make it out at first, but I had these on us” Bill said, placing his battered binoculars onto the bar “And what do you think I saw?”

“I dunno Bill, what?”

“That queer lot - prattin’ abaht round t’ Devil’s Stone!”

“Prattin’ about? What do you mean?”

“They were like, all round it, back and forth. They had some stuff with ‘em ‘n all, and a Landrover. Couldn't mek it out, but it's obvious in’t it!”

“What is?”

“Well, they must be some sort of cult or summat.  It's an altar stone, you know, that is, the Devil’s Stone. Ancient.  They’re up to no good - satanic rituals, or worse!”

“What, on a Sunday afternoon, Bill, raising Devil? Are you daft?”

Bill went on “Look, ‘ear me out. You remember I said that one of them had been readin’ some weird stuff out in Church, right?  Well, next time I saw the Vicar,  chap called Ollier, it were, back then, I asked him what it were, what she’d read out, where it were from in the bible and that.”

“Aye?”

“And Vicar said it weren’t in the Bible! It were summat else, summat from Sumeria, a thousand year before Pharoahs. But what he also told me, right, was that she’d been the vicar before ‘im! ‘ere, in’t Dale. She were fust one ordained in the ‘ole of Yorkshire, when they made it legal for women to tek the cloth, like.” Bill jabbed a shaking finger up at the huge portrait on the wall, as he spoke.

“I remember summat about that, actually,”  said Jim, stroking his chin, “it were on telly.”

“Aye, it were.  You can call me what you like, but a woman vicar? It were just not right.  So I plain stopped goin’ to Trinity, me. Had to slog right up to St. Aiden’s at Leyburn, near sixteen mile that were, until she were sacked.”

“She were sacked?  What for, stealing from collection?”

“No - it were for her preachin, Vicar said. I never heard none of it mesen, like, of course, but aside from her bein’ a woman, which were alot to tek on in’t fust place, her preachin was too much for most folk. Caused a schism, that's what Vicar said. A schism.” Bill savoured the word for a moment. “Any road, she’d not been there but two year or so and were causing so much fuss and complaints from regulars that Bishop were called in.  Fetch us another pint, will you?”

“Right you are” said Jim, pulling a clean glass down.

“Any way,” continued Bill “Vicar, he come up almost tearful, at that point. Said it were a sad day, tragic. A number of folk left church, wanted to set up another congregation with her, petitioned the Bishop for her ‘n that, Vicar included. But … she were de-frocked and that were that. Ollier chap, said she were inspirational, she was what made him tek the vows himself, in fact.”

Jim waited on a while, expecting the story to continue, but when Bill said nothing more, he straightened up and folded his arms “Well, I’ve heard thee out, Bill, and strangest thing I can see about them is the blokes all drink wine when there’s good ale on.”

Bill shook his head.  “Nay lad! Tha’s not listenin’! They keep comin’ back ‘ere every seven years - what for?”

“Holiday, Bill. Holiday. Simple as that!  A walk up Addlebrough, trip to Hawes Creamery for a bit o’ cheese and a Wallace and Grommit T-shirt, like every other bugger that comes here.”

“No.” Bill shook his head “No. This is what I think: they were cast out of the Church for preachin’ stuff that weren't in the Bible. They're up at that Devil’s Stone, doin’ God knows what. Sacrificin summat, for all we know!  It's the stuff of witchcraft, Jim. Mark my words, there's something not reyt here.”

It was all Jim could do not to burst out laughing as he regarded Bill’s screwed up face and wild-eyed expression “Witches.” he said, and started to chuckle.

Bill snorted and downed his pint. ” Aye, go on lad, laugh, but mark my words…I’m off to find Vicar. He’ll listen, if no bugger else will.”

-o()o-

At the Devil’s Stone something was about to happen, but only Anne had any idea about what that might be. She had lied to the others and convinced them all, even her own hapless husband, that she had waited for two years to grasp the prize, so that they could be together. How had they not guessed? Didn't they know her at all? Only Peter had sensed it, but she’d convinced him too.   “The Word, Anne!  The Word of God!  You shouldn't have waited. It’s far too important,” Peter had said, and he had been right, she hadn't waited.

Working late at the university, the laboratory technician she had befriended had given her precious moments of access to the much more powerful machine. She used those times to test her theory, until one night, bathed in the glow of the screens, she saw long-forgotten meanings emerge from the chaos. At first she didn't understand what was revealed, but slowly it became clear:  the nature of existence and creation; the manifestation of God in the physical realm; the power inherent in life and in the extinguishment of life. Last of all, the balance of sacrifice. The universe spoke, but it also listened. Words needed to be spoken and she would speak them.

Anne took a deep breath and scanned the hillside.  There was nobody to be seen.  Miles from anywhere,  the Devil’s Stone was the perfect place to ensure there would be no witnesses. She called everyone to her. “Right, it all looks about ready. The quantum device is at the correct temperature, please don’t touch it, anyone. Letitia, will you turn on the power regulator and then everyone gather around me so we can see the screen once I initiate the concurrency algorithm.”  Her words were like spells and her audience stood bewtiched.

“How exciting!” said Letitia. She pressed the on button on the regulator, but aside from a string of green lights appearing, nothing seemed to happen. There was silence except for the hum of the generator and the annoying staccato of the compressor.

“Any last words?”  asked Anne. There was an air of excitement, but nobody had any, not even Charlemagne. Anne turned from them and tapped away, linking the laptop to the quantum interface and accessing the external storage device to the many terabytes of data they had, between them, accumulated over the decades.  The waves of anticipation from the group became almost palpable, and Anne’s index finger trembled above the return key.  She was sure she knew what she was about to do, what she had to do, but she didn’t know how it would unfold, once she began.

She pressed return. There was an almost imperceptible change in the sounds the compressor made, a slight elevation in pitch. The computer screen remained blank for a few moments, and then it began to fill with text, right to left.

“What’s it doing?” said Alan “I thought you said it would be instantaneous”.

“And what language is that?” said Letitia. “I can’t make it out at all.”

In all, ten groupings of words appeared on the screen. That was one thing that the old testament was right about, Anne had thought when she had seen this for the first time in the University lab.  She began to read aloud. She didn't know for sure, but she felt it wouldn't matter what language it was, so she had chosen Aramaic. It seemed fitting, and she didn't think any of the others understood the ancient tongue. She was wrong; Geoffrey did, but she couldn't see the realisation dawning on his face as she read the final phrases aloud.

There was a pulse, like a shimmer in perception, in every one of her senses. All of them felt it at once, blasting outwards and away. All of them heard the voice that followed, it was outside of them and inside of their heads, everywhere, all at once. It was a language they didn’t know, but could understand at the same time. They were stunned into silence, except for Anne.

And the voice said “Who speaks the words?”

“I do,” said Anne.

“Would you know of the Becoming?”

“I would.”

“Anne, what are you doing!”  blurted Geoffrey, reaching towards her, grabbing at a shoulder. She shook him off. The others looked on, confused.

“What is the way?” said the voice.

“To open the seals.”

“FOR GOD’S SAKE, ANNE, STOP!” Geoffrey yelled, taking hold of Anne’s shoulders and trying to turn her round, but she would not be stopped now.

“What is the balance?” the voice intensified, echoing inside their heads. Everyone but Anne held their hands to their ears in pain.

“Seven mortal souls!” Anne shouted to the skies.

Geoffrey screamed a final “NO!” and frantically fumbled for the nearest piece of equipment, desperate to do something to stop his wife. He managed to flick up the clip that fastened the hose to the nitrogen tank, but that was all, for in the next instant, soundlessly, everyone but Anne disappeared. The pulse in reality seemed to happen in reverse, rippling into the fabric of everything, moving in towards Anne, centred on her.

She felt suffused with energy, light, warmth, sensations she didn't recognise. She turned, looking at her hands as her clothing seemed to become transparent and light emanate from her body. The fact that the other seven were no longer there, that they had been obliterated, offered up by her for this purpose, didn't register, was not important, was an irrelevance.  She felt she was beginning to transcend, transform. She closed her eyes but she could still see everything around her, in every direction, even into the ground, colours that didn't exist before. “Oh my God!” she said. Then, the hose attached to the compressor detached itself with a sharp pfffsssss and a mist of liquid nitrogen.

Anne didn't notice, she continued to turn slowly, trying to take in and comprehend the shift in reality that she was experiencing.   Without the constant flow from the compressor, the pressure within the dewer could not be contained and the liquid inside instantly boiled. The resulting wave of pressure blew the valve from the top of the dewer, leaving a neat hole. The process fed back on itself and a massive explosion followed as the metal canister of the dewer failed to contain the enormous volume of gas that was suddenly within it.

For some twenty seconds, Anne felt nothing at all. A hundred metres away, the top half of the dewer hit the ground with a thud. Small pieces of debris began to land, pattering like brief rain. She became aware of coldness, the coldness of stone against the side of her face. Her ears rang, darkness became light. She saw confusing shapes, the edge of the stone, the hillside, the Landrover. She realised she was lying on her side.  What had happened? Something dripped into her eye, she tried to wipe it away but couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. Her vision dimmed into darkness. Then nothing.

In the air all about her, above the stone, energy fizzled. It had nowhere to go. It became a sphere, then condensed into an ever-brightening pin prick of light which sank onto the black surface, then into it, into the crystalline structure of the rock.

-o()o-

All across the Dale, people had felt the initial pulse but didn’t know what to make of it “Did you feel that?” they said, rubbing their eyes, shaking their tingling hands. “Was that an earthquake?”

Bill Thirkettle had just left the rectory, and a very bemused Vicar, and was looking up at Addlebrough with his binoculars again, trying to spot them.  He saw what looked like a shockwave, dropped the glasses from his eyes in surprise, then felt it hit him. “Bloody hell!” he said. Doggit whimpered. A few moments later, he heard a distant boom. It echoed back and forth across the valley.

“Reyt, Doggit, that’s it!  We’re goin back up!”

-o()o-

At about twenty past three, Mike Potts and Aiden rattled and bumped their way up the track to the site. “Where the bloody hell are they?” said Mike, as they pulled up to a stop. He jumped out and walked towards the generator, which was still chugging away. Aiden got out and wandered over to the other Landrover. The windscreen was fractured; something had gone right through it. He opened the door and saw a sliver of shiny metal protruding from the upholstery of the passenger seat.

Meanwhile, Mike was walking slowly over towards the stone, shouting out “Hellooo?” But there was no reply. As he drew closer, he could see something round and dark on top of the stone, but he couldn’t make out what it was. He got closer still. There were crates and boxes, equipment all about. The generator was still on, but no sign of anyone.  He saw a large metal crate, tripod legs at each end and cables and pipes ran in and out of it. There was a semi-circle of blackened footprints on the ground, facing the stone.  What was that on top of it? He walked closer still, shouting out again to anyone. Then he saw the crumpled body of a woman on the ground and next to it, a metal cylinder, the top raggedly sheered off; a body without a head.  Then Mike knew what was on top of the stone. “Fuck” he whispered, fighting down a wave of nausea.  He wrestled with the grim urge to look and see what he knew, inside, was surely resting on that stone.  He turned and ran back to the vehicles, shouting at Aiden. “Call the fucking police!”

“What’s up mate? ‘Ave you seen the windscreen on this?”

“Never mind that, we are leaving. Get in, call the police, now.”

Aiden bobbed his head, trying to see around Mike, to see behind him “What is it Mike? What the bloody ‘ell’s ‘appened?” 

“I don't know, but you do NOT want to see what's up there. I’m telling thee now. Let’s go. Get in. GET IN!”

Aiden did what he was told, Mike drove off as fast as he could and Aiden called the police on his mobile phone “What should I say” he asked Mike, but Mike just shook his head; he had no idea.

-o()o-

Mike and Aiden had been in Leyburn police station for twenty minutes, trying to make themselves understood to the desk sergeant when Bill Thirkettle got back up to the Devil’s Stone.  He was approaching it from the other side, so the first thing that he saw was the top of the dewer flask, embedded in the ground, a rime of frost on it.  Doggit sniffed at it, then backed off with a yelp as his nose stuck to it.  Bill kicked at it but it was firmly embedded. He walked on. As he got closer to the stone, the next thing he saw was the head of Anne Asquith, sightless, resting in a slick of blood, black against the rock. 

“I bloody knew it, Doggit!” he said “I bloody knew summat weren't right wi’ ‘em! But this…?”  He felt faint. He was a country man, and not a stranger to the sight of blood, but this was something else.

“Bloody yooman sacrifice! What in the good Lord’s name have they done here, Doggit?”  A sudden realisation gripped him… Hang on…where are the rest of them at then?  He felt a stab of fear and looked about wildly, imagining that he would surely be next. Swaying on his feet and wheezing as his chest tightened, he reached out a hand to steady himself and rested it on the stone, careful to avoid the blood.  There was a burst of light and Bill felt the strange pulse behind his eyes again, but immensely more powerful than before. He wailed in unknowing horror as the supernatural forces that had been summoned began to manifest. Unlike Anne, Bill had no comprehension of what had been unleashed, and the eruption of light, sound and energy that seemed to be unfolding brought him nothing but terror.  Bill was once a strong, wiry man, but now he was old and years of pies and pints had taken a toll.  With lightning pouring down from the heavens to the fingertips of his hands which clawed at the sky, he gave a final shriek of primal fear as his heart stopped, then fell face down into the muddy earth. Sparks corruscated around the Devil’s Stone.

-o()o-

For Doggit, faithful collie though he was, it had been far too much, and he’d scuttled off into the undergrowth with a yelp. But then silence had fallen over the hillside, and with it, Doggit’s nose eventually emerged from the bracken. Slowly, he padded back to his stricken master laying lifeless in the dirt. Sniffing and whimpering, Doggit circled Bill’s body, nuzzling it. He licked at his ear - that usually woke him when cinders fell from the fire - but not now. He settled down by his master, resting his head on an outstretch arm.

Doggit was an old boy, and like Bill, his bladder was not as strong as it used to be, nor his back legs. Feeling that nature was calling, he got up and cocked a leg against the handy corner of a large stone…

-o()o-

Mike Potts and Aiden though not unknown to the Police, were not known for flights of fancy. Their garbled tale of mysterious pensioners and a headless corpse on the top of Addleborough was enough to warrant investigation.

“We’ll have to tek yous in the Landy. Squad cars won’t hack it up theyer,” said Mike.

Dusk was falling as Mike, Aiden and three police officers drew up to the site in the Landrover. As the vehicle stopped, Mike said “You’ll see t’ stone and the other Landy when you get out…you can’t miss it, but we’ll stay by ‘t car, if you don’t mind.”

“But I’ve never seen an ‘edless corpse, Mike,” said Aiden.

“You’ll stay wi me, lad and you’ll thank me forrit! ‘Edless corpse? christ sake!” chided Mike. The Police assured them that they should deal with it and the car was the best place for the two farmers to stay.

But when they all got out, they were stunned to silence. Then mutters of disbelief escaped their lips, but they were drawn to approach the Devil’s Stone, for upon it stood the figure of dog, a strangely glowing figure of a dog. In the gathering darkness, standing silently before it, in serried rows as far as they could see, hundreds and hundreds of sheep.