UDA 1913: The Reign of Rhun-Ry'tbai

By James Hold

Rhun-Ry'tbai — Fierce embodiment of evil from beyond the stars... Inspector Cushing — Scotland Yard man assigned to stamp out the wicked cult... Batsobai — Bastard son of Rhun-Ry'tbai, his followers are world wide... Sergeant Morell — Inspector Cushing's loyal assistant... Miss Wynter — Vibrant, beautiful, a total enigma... Superintendent Oxley — Inspector Cushing's supervisor, and perhaps more...

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Hold
• Release date: Nov 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463680193

James Hold

"First you're an unknown, then you write one book and you move up to obscurity." — Martin MeyersI published my first book in 2004. It became an immediate collector's item. I have several hundred copies collecting dust in my attic. Critics everywhere said it belonged between Ernest Hemingway and Robert E Howard—on an alphabetical bookshelf.My influences include Rocky & Bullwinkle, 1950s sci-fi movies, and silver-age comics.I live in Texas with my wife and four cats. You can contact me at [e-mail].

Book preview

Chapter 1

A bitter chill racked the brittle body of Inspector Cushing as he answered the summons to the Mortisey Museum at 1913 Kenley, in the south London Borough of Croydon, not far from the Carshalton Pond. A crime had been committed. A crime, if the general public were to know all the facts, which would send them screaming into the post-Victorian night. Only to have them run screaming back to their homes since that would seem the safer option.

In reply to his knock, the rusty-hinged door opened and Cushing along with his assistant went in out of the cold. They were greeted by two men, one portly and pompous-looking, the other past middle age, lean and brown.

Gentlemen, please, the portly one greeted them. Do come in. I'm the museum's director, Mr Jamison and this is our lecturer, Mr Dent.

How are you? said Inspector Cushing, gripping the lecturer's hand with a strength for which one would not have given him credit. You have been in Texas, I perceive; the Trans-Pecos to be exact.

How on earth did you know that? Dent asked in astonishment.

He knows, Cushing's assistant, Sergeant Morell, replied, because it's written in giant letters on the placard behind you.

Oh, yes, Dent mumbled. I suppose when you put it that way... His voice trailed off.

Honestly, Cushing, Morell addressed his companion. Would you stop trying to impress people with your so-called 'analytical reasoning'? Ever since that Doyle fellow began publishing his cheap mysteries everyone on the force has fallen to imitating that conceited twit. A few specks of dust on a man's hatband says nothing about his married life other than he crossed a dusty road on his way over.

All right, all right, Cushing held out his hands placatingly. You can't begrudge a fellow a little fun on a night like this.

Gentlemen, please, Mr Jamison pleaded for them to stop bickering. This is a most urgent matter requiring your immediate attention.

Very well, Cushing sighed. Lead the way.

*

Jamison led them down a long, gaslit corridor. The majestic Mortisey Museum had been the mansion dwelling of a distinguished family now fallen out of favor. It displayed oddities and curiosities from around the world. The adventurous Mr Dent was the museum's supplier. The Mortisey's themselves had little to do with things. In return for the use of their quasi-prestigious name, the directors paid a modest stipend and their heirs appeared at gala openings when the latest bit of sensationalism was presented. The most recent spectacle, about five weeks in, involved an Indian mummy Dent had brought back from his trip to Texas. It was on everyone's lips and the newspapers played it up big time. Neither Inspector Cushing nor Sergeant Morell had bothered to check it out. They met with enough oddities in their daily work without subjecting themselves to the latest ballyhoo.

Reaching the end of the corridor they arrived at a tall-ceilinged room. It was modest in size and held a single display. This was on a raised dais two feet off the floor. Two sides of the glass case, rear and right, were intact. The upper left portion was shattered and the entire front plate had been smashed. Splinters and shards spread outward across the floor. Otherwise the case was empty.

On the floor before the case lay a man in a lab coat. He was quite dead. His throat had been crushed with such force the sides met in the middle, making it appear the head was balanced on a stick. Eyes and tongue bulged from their openings in a gruesome manner. It had to all appearances been a painful and horrifying death.

I see. Cushing stooped to check the body. This is bad.

Oh, not that, Jamison dismissed the matter. That's only Lewis. I called you here because our mummy has been stolen.

Your mummy! Cushing eyed the callous director unpropitiously. Do you mean you're more concerned with your latest shemozzle than the life of a man who has been murdered?

To be honest, yes. Jamison responded with open frankness. I can get a dozen people to take Lewis' place, but the Mescalero Mummy was priceless.

Cushing said nothing as he ran a gloved hand over the corpse.

Searching for cigar ash? inquired Morell, stuffing his own briar pipe into a coat pocket.

No point of that if you insist upon contaminating the scene, Cushing replied testily. Actually I dropped a cufflink. Ah, there it is. Now what's this about a Mexican mummy?

Mescalero. Cushing looked up to see that Mr Dent had accompanied them into the room. Look, Inspector, if I may, Mr Lewis is not going anywhere for the time, so may I suggest Jamison guard the body and you and I, along with your sergeant of course, retire to my office where I can fill you in on the story behind the mummy and present you a clearer picture as to its value. It may, too, shed light on the culprits. My office is cozy and has a fire. I'm sure you'd find it preferable to this chill and drafty hall.

Without waiting Jamison's assent, the three retired to Dent's office. It was Cushing's opinion the cold-hearted Jamison would not be bothered by the conditions to which they abandoned him.

*

Dent's office, as promised, was warm and cozy. A pleasant fire behind a small grate provided sufficient comfort to relieve the tension of Cushing's unpleasant encounter with Jamison. It gave enough illumination that Dent did not bother to light the desk lamp. The policemen divested themselves of their hats, overcoats, and gloves, settled into well-stuffed chairs, and waited for the famous explorer to proceed.

Before doing this he offered them cigars from a polished case. Both declined and Dent expressed his appreciation.

I don't care for the things myself. Some of my backers do, so it becomes a necessary evil to subject myself to their tortuous odor. After which I have the room fumigated.

Speaking of evil... Cushing prompted.

Mr Dent, a fit and rugged-looking man with round glasses, big teeth, and a trim mustache—he reminded Cushing very much of an American president—then provided the Inspector and Sergeant Morell with some background on the expedition from which he had returned. He prefaced his remarks by saying:

I once read how you appreciate brevity, Mr Cushing, so I'll try to be as concise as possible.

Actually, Sergeant Morell corrected him, what the Inspector said was he preferred briefs to boxers. But do go on.

Dent took a deep breath and did as Morell requested.

"What I am about to relate concerns an expedition backed by a non-accredited group. It was based, on one hand, on a disreputable book by a likewise disreputable writer named Hoonts; and on the other, the speculative imaginings of an eccentric crackpot. Parts of it will come across as utter nonsense. I apologize in advance but it cannot be helped.

"It's not uncommon to read such things when in a mood for fantastical literature. I use the term freely, in the sense of popular fiction meant to give the reader a good fright, followed by a reassuring chuckle before sending him off to bed. It's a lowbrow form of entertainment, but everyone indulges in it at some point.

Such tales involve items of great antiquity that have lain dormant through countless eons. They are removed from their resting places, brought to a civilized setting, and over time exert an evil influence over some susceptible mind, and in such a manner bring death and destruction, leaving the survivor with a life-long dread which death alone can alleviate.

I'm familiar with the genre, Cushing conceded. And in this case?

It's pretty much the same, Dent shrugged resignedly. The difference being our tale springs from recent events.

The story as Dent relayed it follows. It involved a confluence of proceedings, any one of which would be sufficient to set the stage for a weird tale of sensational circumstance. Combined they produced a saga of historical interest and speculative curiosity that culminated in the discovery of a crypt of unknown origin which all involved believed to be the triumph of years of arduous toil and research.

Chapter 2

Before Europeans settled in the Trans-Pecos region of western Texas, the mountains, plains, and deserts belonged to the Mescalero Apaches. No other group of Native Americans caused such terror as did this tribe. Throughout their existence, they preyed on Spanish, Mexican, and American settlers without provocation. They were purported to be brave and expert guerrilla fighters.

Dent stopped there.

"I confess I find that last statement debatable. It does not, in my opinion, require exceptional cunning or bravery to ambush smaller bands of unsuspecting travelers and subject them to merciless pain, torture, and slaughter.

Today however a sort of 'conservation movement' has sprung up among the American people and some within the movement uphold the American Indian as a whole to exemplify their cause. I wonder if their opinion might change were they to witness a 'buffalo run,' in which those noble conservationists stampeded hundreds of beasts over a mountain cliff, and then selected the choicest meats and hides and left the rest to rot. It hardly fits my definition of noble, honorable, or upright.

But surely you do not paint all Amerinds with the same brush? Cushing broke in.

Of course not; no more than I label all Germans as warlike or all Frenchmen as snobs. I simply say there are many of them who are not nice people, and humbly suggest when we seek heroes or individuals to admire, we pick wisely.

Mr Dent saw he was going off-track and took a moment to collect himself.

That, for now, is enough sermonizing. As I was saying, the Mescalero were nomadic hunters and warriors, dwelling in one place for a time, draining it of its resources, then moving on.

You said no more sermonizing, Cushing gently reminded.

I apologize. History dates the tribe to the mid-1800s but there is evidence to suggest that estimate is off by many thousands of years and a 'proto' version of the tribe dwelled in the region before the Common Era.

Here Dent swiveled his chair to the bookshelf behind him and let his hand hoover over a vacant spot where a volume was missing.

Sorry. I forgot I don't have it any longer.

The book he meant to show them had been authored by a man named Hoonts. (Or maybe it was Hundtz. Cushing could not be sure from the way Dent pronounced it.) The book was one of those forbidden texts banned in many countries and Dent's copy was not an original but a later, and possibly inaccurate, reprinting.

According to Hoonts' account, there once existed a population of great antiquity in and around this Trans-Pecos dating to a time when it was thriving grassland with rivers, springs, and abundant wildlife. These people worshipped an awesome god who was said to have fallen from the sky in the year 48,000 BCE—all dates being Hoonts' estimates. As to this god's name, all that exists is a glyphic symbol resembling a lowercase n with a dot in the middle and an upward curving line extending from the base. dot in the middle and an upward curving line extending from the base.

Hoonts says this word-symbol was unpronounceable; or if it could be pronounced, it was forbidden to do so.

Of the people themself little is known. Hoonts believed them to date to 9000 BCE, although he cautions that is when they became a civilization. Scattered and unorganized bands of these people go further back. They exist in faint, obscure legends which originated in now-extinct peoples in remote Pacific Island groups.

In other words, Cushing shifted to a more comfortable position, this could, for all anyone knows, be total baloney.

The field of archeology, Dent frowned disapproving, cannot afford to label things as 'baloney' without investigating them first. Besides, I'm a dabbler, a connoisseur of the bizarre you might say, with time and resources for looking into things that catch my fancy. And so I became interested in this possible pre-Apache people.

One question, Sergeant Morell raised his hand. Is there any evidence to suggest they engaged in dances where they tossed women to the ground and slapped them about?

The spectacle of which you speak, Dent answered through gritted teeth, is a barbaric showpiece popular among the uncouth French populace. And it is pronounced 'ah-pahsh', not 'uh-patch-ee'. It has nothing to do with the subject of which we are dealing.

Mr Dent may have been a dabbler as he called it, but he was a strict one.

Chapter 3

At the same time Mr Dent was showing interest in this pre-Apache culture and its mysterious god who had fallen from the sky 50,000 years earlier, things were happening on the other side of the pond that would have even more influence on the matter.

Word had come from American engineer Daniel Barringer claiming to identify the remains of a meteor which struck Earth in the neighborhood of Flagstaff, Arizona. This so-called Barringer Crater was judged to have been created 50,000 years ago—Dent noted the coincidence—during the Pleistocene epoch, when the area was open grassland inhabited by woolly mammoths and giant ground sloths. The scientific community was reluctant to approve Barringer's claim and there was much to be done before his thesis gained acceptance.

What you might call the 'judged crater case', Morell interjected, earning himself a sharp kick to the shin.

One scientist though was open to the idea.

August Sutherland had sufficient letters appended to his name to fill a bowl of alphabet soup, but those who knew him best simply referred to him as That crockpot. Year in and year out he submitted articles to the scientific journals and Sunday papers outlining what many believed were the ravings of a sick and deluded mind. His papers were fantastical, whimsical, nonsensical even; yet there was always the suggestion of an idea that might prove probable.

Sutherland's latest publication in the September, 1906 issue of the Science Journal of Upper New Kingsbridge, Science JUNK for short, put forth two ideas. First, that based on mathematical models of his own devising along with his personal observations of the asteroid belt, it was his confirmed belief that the Barringer Impact Crater in Arizona was not a stand-alone event. Rather, Sutherland offered proofs—which few could follow—that the crater was part of a much larger catastrophic event wherein a far larger object, twenty to thirty times greater, had come apart in Earth's atmosphere with the major chunk landing in the Gulf of Mexico and other fragments striking inshore. According to Sutherland's calculated trajectory, the biggest inland piece should have come down in the Trans-Pecos region of West Texas. Said spot would be difficult to locate, given the passage of time, but the task should, with the use of newly developed instruments and apparatuses, prove doable.

If the first part of Sutherland's paper wasn't sufficient to provide fodder for around-the-table discussion, the second half could only be described as the icing on the cake. For starters, Barringer's Crater was not the sole spot where meteorites were being discovered. An important, although less publicized find, was made by Kolsinger (Dent here noted the name was possibly misspelled and needed verification) at the edge of an arroyo near the Barringer crash site, known by the Indian name of Kin Ligaaí. This huge chunk of iron was the largest found thus far.

Such a find was newsworthy enough. But even more fantastic, according to Mr Sutherland, who had gained photographs of the object, if you examined it from a specific angle, the convolutions of its surface bore remarkable resemblance to those of a mammalian brain. Granted, heat, erosion, imagination, and chance could play a role when viewing this; still, was there not a possibility, no matter how far-fetched, that the thing might be what it looked like? A brain? The brain of a being brought here by the meteoric impact? In which case, this was not the impact of an inanimate object, but of a piloted vessel.

Well, as people were wont to say, Mr Sutherland was an august man in his day, but come September he could turn quite loony.

But despite his detractors, Mr Sutherland was ready to put up his vast family fortune to finance an expedition to the Trans-Pecos in the hope of unearthing the remains, no matter how fragmentary, of the vessel he believed had crashed there. Said expedition was not intended simply to find meteor fragments, but to discover the skeletal remains of the beings who piloted the outer space ship, and, from them, glean clues to the nature of life throughout the cosmos.

*

Mr Dent stopped to pour a glass of water from a carafe at his side. Cushing and Morell exchanged bemused glances.

Tell me, Dent, Morell joshed, was this August Sutherland capable of dressing and feeding himself?

Dent brought the glass crashing down on the desktop. August Southerland, he spoke evenly yet with evident anger, "was one of the most intelligent men I had the pleasure of knowing, as evidenced by his having invented a system of celestial mathematics that put Newton's calculus to shame. He sought nothing save the betterment of mankind.

Yes, he was ridiculed. Such is the common fallback of miniscule minds that will not make the effort to understand. Politicians, priests, and journalists fall effortlessly into that class. Until this moment, though, I was not aware the police were members as well.

A stony silence ensued as Mr Dent crossed his arms and glowered as if to say they could leave whenever they wished.

You will excuse my poor Sergeant. Inspector Cushing once again kicked Morell's shin. He has a poorly apportioned sense of humor some refer to as 'pawky' and others as 'pathetic'. Please go on with your story and we will try to interrupt you as little as necessary.

Very well, Dent gave in. It is after all important you understand the facts in the matter.

*

There was one snag in the idea of funding an expedition. Although Mr Sutherland was willing to put up the family fortune, the other members of his family were not. Upon hearing August Sutherland's announcement, the family solicitor was summoned and plans were made to have the crackpot astronomer declared non compos mentis. Before the incompetency hearing could get underway, the gods prompted a second group to come to his rescue.

That was the archeological team organized by the Mortisey Museum, under the supervision of Mr Dent, who wished to explore the same Trans-Pecos for evidence of the pre-Common Era proto-Mescalero civilization. The expedition was well beyond the planning stage and subscriptions had raised half the anticipated cost. Now if Mr Sutherland could make up the remaining balance...

It was no sooner said than done. The family had no objection to pledging a portion of their wealth so long as it was not all of it. And it would be nice to get the kooky patriarch out of the way for several months.

So it came about that, after many delays obtaining provisions and permits, August Sutherland and Mr Dent made their way across the ocean to the continent of North America on what came to be known as the JUNK Science Expedition.

Chapter 4

The lengthy voyage to America, the landing at Galveston Island, and the arduous journey inland covered a span of many months. Following the coordinates Sutherland worked out utilizing his unique mathematical system, the group arrived at the site the eccentric astronomer claimed the impact had occurred. Dent, having found so many parallels in the scientist's claims that matched the accounts in Hoonts' discredited book, gave the man free reign. He believed every legend held a kernel of truth. Now this kernel was backed by scientific evidence, not of Sutherland alone, but other parties searching for meteoric remnants in the American southwest.

Dent knew enough geography to foresee a desert. He had not envisaged one so vast. Or so distant. Or so hostile. The US Cavalry had done an admirable job keeping the renegade Mescalero bandits in check, confining them to the northern Guadalupe Mountains. But sporadic raiding parties continued to make their presence felt. They rarely engaged in open attacks since the JUNK Science team was too large for their liking, but they did hang on the periphery indulging in nuisance behavior when the opportunity presented itself. The team was fortunate to find a settlement thirty miles shy of their destination where former Buffalo Soldiers and peaceful Amerinds established a community. These hired on as scouts and from that time onward the Mescalero menace became a non-factor.

While the expedition expected to encounter a desert, they did not anticipate a stone circle. Seven large boulders stuck out of the ground, each roughly ten feet tall. Wind-blown sand polished them to a glassy smoothness and there was not a mark on them. When questioned, workers from the Indian-Soldier settlement hired to assist with the digging claimed to know nothing of them, for this was a place their tribal elders forbade them to enter.

Now the team member Dent felt would have been most impressed was the anthropologist, McIntire. Stone circles, as places of worship, can reveal a lot about a culture. To Dent's surprise, he showed complete disinterest in them. This puzzled Dent until he remembered hearing McIntire described as a kind of diseased genius. He saw now it was another way of calling the social scientist an insufferable prick. It fell to Hayden, the archeologist, to wax enthusiastic over the unexpected find.

Stone circles are nothing new on either side of the Atlantic, the archeologist lectured. While Stonehenge is the best known, they are found across England, Ireland, Scotland, Australia, Poland, and Israel. In America they have been reported in Arizona, Virginia, Georgia, and California. Nevertheless this is the first such discovery in Texas. If you are looking for omens, this might prove an auspicious one, to have come across a monumental discovery our first day in.

Most interesting, Sutherland, who had postulated several theories regarding stone circles being used for astronomical purposes, shared Hayden's enthusiasm. What do you think of it, Mr McIntire?

Nothing, McIntire replied curtly. My interests lie in bigger things than a small friend of circles. Whether this was an insinuation concerning Hayden's diminutive stature or a clever play on words did not matter. It did though provide an indicator that Mr McIntire was not going to be easy to get along with.

*

While Dent and Sutherland devoted their attention to where to begin digging, the compact archeologist scampered across the rocks examining them with his magnifying glass and jotting entries