Beyond: Beyond, #1

By A. D. Mercer

Book 1 of a 14 volume saga, ranging from the deep past to the distant future.

Book 1 is the story of an unusual type of First Contact; one with a community that speaks English and looks human.

It isn't NASA or ESA that meets the visitors; it is two young men who meet them. It isn't in a space ship or a time machine, but instead in a rural English pub.

At first, it seems that the visitors can perform magic, but then, any sufficiently advanced technology looks like magic.

Two engineers, Paul and Geoff, return with the visitors to their hidden village and find a community that is a mixture of stone-age and ultra-advanced technology. The two young engineers save the villagers from extinction, and try to equip them to live in the 21st Century world.

"Beyond" sets the scene for a saga that covers 20 years, but stretches back 66 millions years and forward 30,000.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.D.Mercer
• Release date: Feb 8, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224854219

Book preview

Prologue

Two science geeks, Paul Aldis and Geoff Jones, had set themselves up as a software house after leaving university.

They had a few regular clients and a small, but steady income stream. However, they would have gladly swapped it for a social life. (Geoff had a ‘hobby’, but he wasn’t proud of it.)

A few miles away, there was another small community with a similar problem. (Well, in a manner of speaking...)

The Village had been there ‘forever’. There were fields and forests, carts and cottages, people and pastures.

However, there were no cars, telephones, running water, roads, sewers, schools or hospitals. Just people, their homes, and the lands around.

The Village had many empty cottages, and every decade another one was abandoned.

Rodemus (later Anglicised to Roderick), a Village Elder, knew that the Village was dying.

The Village had six young, unmarried girls, and they had wandering feet. Two of them, Angelsha (later Anglicised to Angela) and Kaytelsha (Anglicised to Katie) were faced with marriages to extremely unattractive boys.

There was a special place on the edge of the Village, where people and things vanished. Few of the Villagers who walked through this hole or portal, ever came back. The very few that did, spoke of strange and scary things.

None of those few ever repeated their scary stroll.

Angelsha and Kaytelsha had a choice of marriage to horrid, smelly, grunting lumps, or to go exploring. They chose to explore.

When they were just 10 or 11, they already knew who they would have to couple with, and it did not appeal. They would peep through the portal, see exciting things and then run home. They told nobody of this.

Later, when they were 13 or 14, they would go through the portal and wander the fields beyond for a few hours before going home. It was their secret.

When they were 17 or 18, the Elders started putting pressure on them to couple with the chosen partners. It gave them an incentive to explore further. Maybe they could find someone better beyond the portal.

The most interesting place on the other side of the portal was a house that was lit by miniature stars when it got dark, like fireflies, but fixed and brighter.

They watched it from a distance, seeing men (and some women) going in and out.

Eventually, one day, they decided to go inside the house. It was the same night that Paul and Geoff made their visit to the pub.

Paul and Geoff were to discover that the Villagers could do some amazing things.

The Villagers had no idea about how they did these things. At first, neither did Paul and Geoff, the Normals.

This tale is the first instalment of the saga of the Village, the Villagers and the Portals.

It stretches from the distant past to the far future, and across the galaxy, but it starts small and local.

Over the cycle of thirteen instalments, the origin of it all will emerge, but first it is necessary to introduce some of the main players in this saga.

Chapter 1 - Superglue Sets the Scene

Part 1 – A Town Named Ahdabah

Ahdabah was a small town on the Atlantic coast of south-eastern Nigeria. Most of the residents were either fishermen or their dependants. That would soon change.

Ahdabah was about to have an oil-boom. It already had more than a whiff of a Wild West shanty town about it.

A couple of small, shabby hotels were the pride of the town.

They attracted a few adventurous Western tourists every year. It was a minor option for backpackers taking a gap year.

More rarely, couples came to explore the beaches and see some of the wildlife (before it disappeared).

Once or twice a year, a couple arrived with small children.

Compared to Western Europe, the country around Ahdabah was still (relatively) pristine, with verdant forests and unpolluted beaches.

In just a year’s time, the oil would start to flow (and leak). Soon after, Ahdabah’s innocence would be a fading memory.

One dark night in May, just after two in the morning, the stillness was disturbed by the arrival of a muddy Toyota pickup.

With its lights off, the 4x4 drove up the dirty and deserted main street. It halted a few hundred yards from Ahdabah’s two hotels.

After a few seconds, the pickup’s engine ceased running, and the only sounds were those of nature.

For several minutes, nothing further happened. It was as though the pickup had been driven by ghosts.

After waiting ten minutes, three ghosts emerged from the pickup and silently flowed towards the larger of Ahdabah’s two hotels.

They reached the shuttered doors of the darkened hotel lobby. They paused outside it.

There was a crack-crack-crack from an AK47, as the glass doors were shattered.

There was a further crack-crack-crack, as the night clerk was cut down.

A fourth figure then emerged from a side door and joined the three gunmen.

Together, the four figures made their way towards the elevator.

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Part 2 – Pierre is Pinned Down

West African terrorists have traditionally raised funds by kidnapping and ransoming foreigners, especially oil executives.

The Flint Oil Corporation had hired Pierre de Clercet to advise on exploratory drilling in the Taraba region of Nigeria. Up until now, Taraba hadn’t been an area noted for terrorist activity.

To protect de Clercet’s arrival, a local security company was retained. They supplied six bodyguards, double the usual number. A new terrorist gang had entered the area and the security company was taking no chances.

The guards worked in three shifts, with two guards on duty at any time.

At 2:30am, one bodyguard was dozing in a chair in the corridor, immediately outside de Clercet’s room. A second one was dozing just inside the door.

They both woke when they heard gunfire three floors below.

The bodyguard in the corridor heard the elevator rising. Facing the elevator doors, he clicked off the safety on his AK47.

He rested the barrel of his weapon on the arm of his chair to steady it.

The elevator ceased rising, and the doors started to open.

The bodyguard opened fire, shooting through the half-open elevator door and into the elevator. Anyone standing inside the elevator would have been hit and killed.

The terrorists, who had quietly climbed the staircase at the opposite end of the corridor, then shot the bodyguard, from behind his back. They fired two bursts into and through the slumping body.

However, assault rifle bullets are not stopped by human bodies or wooden doors or even most walls; they are merely slowed.

Pierre had been woken by the sound of gunfire and slipped out of his bed.

He then watched in disbelief as two sprays of bullets came through the door and through the second bodyguard.

Both bodyguards had died in the same fraction of a second.

Pierre’s night-shirt was peppered by a spray of blood from the second bodyguard.

Pierre retreated back through his room onto the balcony. There was no fire-escape or any other way to retreat further.

With his life at stake, Pierre climbed over the railing around the balcony and hung underneath it.

There was a bracket holding up the balcony, and, in terror, Pierre wrapped his arms and legs round it. He looked down into the darkness, and could just make out the ground over forty feet below him.

Above him, Pierre heard more gunfire.

In the corridor, the terrorists fired again to smash the lock of the door to de Clercet’s room. They kicked open the smoking door and entered the room.

They fired again at the dead bodyguards (to make sure that they were dead).

Not knowing how many guards had been in the room, they proceeded slowly.

They fired into the cupboards (where other guards might have been hiding).

The gunfire went through bodies, beds, cupboards and walls, without slowing much.

The hotel’s few guests were now all awake and cowering. One, on the floor below Pierre’s room, was hit in the head by a random bullet. He died instantly.

In Pierre’s room, the leader of the attackers was getting nervous. Where is he? Search the cupboards, the other rooms, everywhere.

The fourth attacker was equally nervous. "I tell you he was here. He can’t have escaped through the window – there’s no way down, and it’s the third floor."

He must be in another room.

We will search all the rooms until we find him.

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Part 3 – A Couple on Holiday

The gunfire was audible throughout the town. Most townsfolk hunkered down.

Hunting for bush meat was a local tradition, so the locals were used to the sound of gunfire. However, the repeated brrrt of an assault rifle was another matter altogether.

Hunters fire individual shots, not repeated bursts. These shooters were not hunters.

In the next door hotel, two tourists, Paul and Angela Aldis, were on holiday with their three children.

They heard and immediately recognised the sound.

Angela was already awake and in the middle of changing the messy nappy of their youngest, Kelly.

The noise of the gunfire woke her husband, Paul.

By profession, Paul and Angela were specialist (or rather super-specialist) bodyguards, with a side-line in special operations.

Gunfire was an everyday occurrence in their working lives.

Paul listened to another burst. Sounds like automatic gunfire, probably an AK-47 and quite close. Not healthy for the kids.

Do we investigate?

Angela was dealing with a struggling baby, who was determined to smear the contents of her nappy. Do bears crap in the woods?

Paul replied sleepily: Not if they live in a zoo.

Angela scolded him. Be serious. I’m changing the baby, so it’s your turn to check out the gunfire.

Paul got up and went outside to see what the commotion was.

Angela gathered their three children in her room.

There was another burst of gunfire from the next door hotel. It was very dark and Paul could see little. There was just a dim light spilling out of the next door hotel.

Paul went back inside and up to his hotel room.

Angie, there’s some sort of incident next door. Do you think that we should intervene?

Angela pushed the children into the bedroom. Paul, we came here for a holiday.

Her husband teased her. Ahhh come on, Angie. The beach is boring and this might be fun.

Angela stared at her children for a few seconds.

Then she shrugged. Ok, you win. It’s been pretty dull with just sun, sand and sea.

Angela waved her finger at her eldest. Charlie, I need you to look after your brother and little sister.

Charlie nodded and wrapped his arms around his siblings.

Leaving three small children alone in a hotel room in the middle of a gun battle might seem irresponsible.

It might even be thought that their parents were being foolhardy to intervene in a terrorist attack, without so much as a hunting knife between them.

However, Paul and Angela knew exactly what they were doing.

They pulled on some clothes and grabbed a rucksack each.

As they left their room. Paul locked it behind them, while Angela ran downstairs.

Before they reached their hotel lobby, there was another burst of gunfire.

The local police had arrived, but were very sensibly staying across the street from the hotel.

Keeping to the shadows, the two tourists slipped out of their hotel and across the road.

They silently crept to the next-door hotel and slipped through the smashed doors.

Angela gestured at the reception desk. Paul nodded and tiptoed over to it.

Looking down behind it, he saw the body of the poor night clerk.

He was lying in a pool of blood. It was very clear that he was beyond help.

Paul looked back at Angela with a grim expression and shook his head.

Angela’s eyes fluttered. Then she pointed towards the ceiling.

She then mimed tiptoeing towards the elevator.

Paul waved his arms in negation and pointed at the staircase.

They walked softly towards the staircase, and started up it, just as the terrorists had done earlier that night.

A few minutes later, the gunfire ceased.

Shortly afterwards, the elevator wheezed its way back down to the foyer.

The doors opened and Paul poked his head out. He scanned the foyer before signalling to Angela.

Seeing that it was clear, they dragged their prisoners out of the elevator...

Fifteen minutes later, the two tourists returned to their hotel room.

With all the guests hiding in their rooms, and the remaining hotel staff sensibly keeping low, the hotel was silent until dawn.

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Part 4 – Superglue?

Towards dawn, a heavily armed unit of the paramilitary police carefully advanced through the shattered hotel doors.

The scene facing them was...odd.

There was an overwhelming stench of Superglue.

Covering most of the floor of the hotel lobby, there was a bizarre tableau.

Four gagged figures were spread out across the floor, with their torsos, arms and legs all at curious angles.

Over by the elevator, several assault rifles had been left in a neat pile.

The police stared at the strange scene.

The four figures were awake and furiously struggling, but completely unable to move.

They were gagged and silent. They glared at the police.

Although the gagged quartet were clearly no threat, three of the police covered them with their weapons.

The other three police walked around the weird bas-relief of bodies, studying it from all angles.

One officer walked behind the reception desk and saw the dead clerk in a pool of congealing blood.  He looked back across the desk at the four posed bodies.

From that different perspective, he realised what he was seeing. The torsos, arms and legs spelt out KILLERS in the local language.

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Part 5 – A Who-Done-It

The police found the terrorist’s target fast asleep in his room on the third floor.

Pierre had no recall of the attack, even when shown the sad bodies of his poor bodyguards. It was a shock, as he had come to know them as friends.

Pierre broke down and cried. He couldn’t explain how he’d slept through the gunfire.

The hotel had only one CCTV camera. It was positioned covering the reception area.

In the days that followed, the police played back the night’s tape. They played it repeatedly.

It showed the murder of the night clerk, and then, the killers heading upstairs.

Curiously, the recording had ended shortly afterwards.

The police never did discover how the killers had managed to glue themselves to the floor in the lobby.

It’s not surprising that the police ran into a dead end.

By the time the police had entered the hotel, the two vigilantes were on the beach, sunbathing, while their three children played in the surf and made sand castles.

To understand these strange events, it is necessary to go back many years to something that happened in a pub in rural England.

Chapter 2 – How It All Began

Part 1 – Itchy Feet

The seeds of the Ahdabah Incident were sown when Angela Sparrowhork and Paul Aldis met in an English rural pub, about a decade earlier.

Back then, Angela had been a rebellious teenager called Angelsha. She soon changed her name to Angela.

Her home Village was very small and very remote, and she was very bored.

In her Village, privacy was non-existent. The Villagers only learnt about the concept after some of them had left the Village.

A young Villager’s future, including their partner(s), was set before they were even born. Some Villagers accepted it, while others rebelled.

Young Angelsha rebelled. She even rebelled against her name.

She had grown up knowing that the boy in the next-but-one cottage was supposed to father her children.

However, Angelsha was determined not to couple with Draggosh, the man chosen for her by the Elders.

Don’t I get a say in it?

The answer was a very clear and very loud No.

Her views on the matter were ‘irrelevant’.

The only possible escape would be if the union was barren. She would then be pressured to lie with a string of other men, until she got pregnant.

Well, she was not going to take it lying down.

She was determined to explore and experience new things and new places.

There had to be more to life than sewing, cooking and being a housewife for a thug like Draggosh.

She and her Best Friend Forever, Kaytelsha, wanted to go where non-Villagers lived. They knew such a place and were determined to go there.

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Part 2 - Nerds

Dr. Geoff Jones was a classic, bookish nerd, with a scraggly beard.

Gangly and awkward, he preferred to watch sports, rather than join in.

Paul Aldis was also a nerd, but more outgoing than his friend.

Unlike Geoff, Paul was not averse to sports. He dreamed of being a great skateboarder or an ace footballer, but he sucked at sports – all of them.

The odd thing was that Paul had fast reactions and excellent reflexes. He just lacked muscles and stamina to go with them. He also disliked being hit by bodies, balls or bats.

If Paul had been a bodybuilder, he might have built muscles to match his reflexes.

However, he preferred to click a mouse rather than pump iron, so he stuck to computer games.

At least in computer games, Paul’s reflexes let him win – sometimes. Also, he didn’t get tripped, kicked or thumped behind the referee’s back, by football-field thugs.

Paul and Geoff rented a ground floor flat in a small townhouse in a small town between Birmingham and Bristol. The town was mostly Edwardian, but new estates were being built around it.

Their flat had two bedrooms, a lounge, a kitchen and a bathroom.

They shared the basement laundry room with their landlady, Mrs. Johnson (who lived upstairs).

Mrs. Johnson liked to prowl the shared areas of the house.

For no good reason, she had decided that Paul and Geoff were doing something illicit in the privacy of their flat. She was determined to discover what it was.

Curiously, no matter what habits they had, she no had no intention of interfering. She just enjoyed being nosy and feeling superior.

She already knew one of their secrets. (That Geoff is a strange one...)

Nerds like Geoff and Paul always found it difficult to meet girls. Hidden away in their dingy flat, rarely meeting their clients, let alone girls, left them socially isolated.

Many teenage boys meet girls ‘behind the bicycle sheds’, or ‘hanging out after school’. Neither Paul nor Geoff had done either of these things.

In short, they had gone through their teenage years without ever being teenagers.

Even when they did meet girls, they were pretty clueless.

Did you see the latest neutrino measurements? is a dreadful chat-up line.

Do you want to go to the Science Fair, is no better.

When Paul met Angela, the boys were making one last, desperate attempt to break out of the nerdish prison of their own making.

Geoff, I’m sick of sitting every night in this smelly flat, playing computer games. I’m twenty-five and I’ve never even kissed a girl.

Geoff didn’t even look up. Dude, face it, we’re not what girls want. They want snazzy guys with flashy cars and cool clothes.

The argument lasted nearly an hour, but at the end of it, Geoff conceded. I give in, but we’re just wasting an evening when we could watching repeats of ‘Robot Wars’.

Paul Googled Pub and then they visited one. It was a few miles away, and had little custom in mid-week. The only bright thing about it was a poster on the door for an amateur pantomime in the village hall.

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For the first hour, it was a washout. Paul and Geoff had sat for over an hour without speaking to anyone when...

– two young women entered and sat down.

Nervously, the two girls stepped into the strange building. They looked around and then sat at an empty table.

At the far end of the room, they could see two young men.

The girls had come from a tiny community, where everybody knew everybody else. Every person they met was someone that they had known all their lives. They’d never met, let alone spoken to, a stranger.

The girls had no idea how to strike up a conversation with someone that they’d never met before. (At least they had an excuse for their lack of social skills – unlike the boys!)

So the two pairs of social misfits sat and watched each other from opposite ends of the room.

That’s how things would have stayed, if the younger of the two girls hadn’t been set on meeting some ‘Normals’.

She rose at the far end of the bar and walked over to the boys’ table. How was she to know that nerds aren’t ‘Normals’?

Paul watched mesmerised as a Disney princess came over to join him and Geoff.

She was very pretty, but neither Paul nor Geoff noticed her looks. They were distracted by her costume.

They’d never seen anyone dressed as Snow White before. Well, maybe in a Disney movie perhaps, but never in real life.

Geoff reacted first. Paul, if this is a stripper-gram, then it’s not funny.

The girl grimaced at Geoff’s tone. She stared at him and blinked a few times.

Geoff instantly jumped up and ran out, shouting, I’ve left the dinner in the oven.

Paul stared in confusion. ("That’s crazy. We don’t even have an oven!")

(We live on takeaways and microwave meals.)

The girl sat down opposite Paul and he looked at her for the first time.

She gave him a smile that made him melt inside.

She started to say something, but nothing came out.

It had been very brave of her to cross the room, but now her nerve had gone.

Paul and the Villager girl had both exhausted their social skills, so an awkward silence ensued.

Paul gazed at the girl, unable to look away. She wore no make-up, but didn’t need it.

Her dress was patched. It appeared to be a poor copy of the dress that the actress wore on the poster on the pub’s door. If it was from a fancy-dress hire, it was a third rate one.

Desperate to appear ‘normal’, Paul ventured. I love your costume. Are you going to a fancy dress thing?

That threw the girl. A what?

She looked down at her dress.  Isn’t this what all Normal girls wear? I saw it on the door.

The girl had a strange sing-song accent. It was slightly musical, and very attractive.

Paul suddenly remembered a fable that Lady Diana and a friend had once dressed down and gone clubbing without their bodyguards.

(OMG) Paul thought, (Who is she really?)

In panic, he scanned the bar. (Is her close protection about to take me down?)

Paul recovered from his tiny funk and ventured. Oh no, you’re fine. In fact, I think that you look wonderful.

That earned him another smile.

It made Paul adventurous, and he threw away caution. Would you like a drink?

He’d never bought a lady an alcoholic drink and, sadly, this lady had never drunk one.

I’m Paul. What’s your name?

I’m Angelsha, and, yes, I’d love a drink. Unfortunately, she did not realise that in a pub, ‘drink’ usually means something alcoholic.

Even more unfortunately, she had never tasted alcohol.

Paul nodded, What was your name again? Was it Angela?

The girl gave him a broad smile. If you like, you can call me Angela.

At that moment, she decided that she wanted to be an Angela, rather than an Angelsha.

Angela was shorter and had a nice sound to it. (Angie was even shorter!)

When Paul returned to their table with a glass of white wine, Angela got her first taste of alcohol. (This could grow on me.)

An hour later, Paul was tipsy and Angela was drunk. She had consumed the wine faster than Paul could order it.

Geoff had gone home to save a non-existent dinner, and Kaytelsha, Angela’s friend, had left long ago.

It was near closing time, and all the regulars had gone home, so they were the only customers left in the pub.

The landlord was giving Paul dirty looks. He called, Last orders.

Angela whimpered. Paul, my head feels strange and I need to...

Paul led her to the Ladies Toilet and then returned to his seat.

For several minutes, Angela did not emerge. Paul wondered whether he should quietly slip out the rear exit. He didn’t get the chance.

The landlord stomped over to him. Your girlfriend has thrown up in the Ladies.

I want £10 to pay for cleaning up the mess, and then both of you can get out.

And don’t come back.

Paul flinched. (Great! First visit to a pub in five years, and I’m already barred!)

Angela came out of the Ladies Toilet, stumbling and looking ashen-faced. The front of her dress was a mess.

She slumped into her seat. Feel sick. Wanna go home.

Before Paul could reply, the bar-staff ejected them from the pub.

And that was how Paul met Angela.

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Part 3 – Angela Gets a Lift Home

Paul helped a very unsteady Angela out of the pub.

Having no clear plan, he took her to his car.

He’d never been on a ‘date’ before, and yet here he was, strapping a girl into his car.

Angela started to snore.

Paul shook her awake. Where do you live?

Tha’ way. She pointed down a country lane opposite the car-park entrance.

Paul did up her seat-belt. (Okaaay. Let’s take you home, gorgeous girl.)

The car park was lit, but it was dark in the country lanes beyond.

Angela dozed on and off, for the next ten minutes.

At each junction, Paul shook her awake to ask the way. Several times, she pointed across open fields.

Paul did the best that he could, and drove through gates and across several fields.

His car wasn’t an SUV, but the ground was firm and dry, so they didn’t sink into the mud.

At one point, Angela pointed into an ancient barn. Paul assumed she’d got it wrong and checked that she really meant driving into (and through the barn).

It was weird.

When they entered the barn, the sky was clear, but it was cloudy and drizzling when they came out the far end.

Eventually, they drove along a muddy track to a thatched cottage.

Paul had almost forgotten about possible bodyguards, but now started to worry again.

He got out and went round to open the passenger-side door. He shook Angela awake.

Where are we? she slurred.

Paul made a guess. I think that we’re at your home.

Angela forced herself awake. What? My parents can’t see me like this. And what am I sitting in?

Paul tried to explain. You’re in my car. You had a lot to drink, so I drove you home.

Angela was close to panic. She rubbed the stains on the front of her dress.  Oh, oh, oh. I can’t go home like this.

She fluttered her eyelids again. There! That should hol’ till morning.

Where do you live? Take me to your home.

I mus’ clean up before Mum an’ Da’ see me.

And then she went back to snoring...

Paul looked at the cottage and then back at his passenger.

(OMG. It looks like I’m going to have to take her to our flat )

Paul got his mobile out. If he was bringing a girl home, he needed to warn Geoff.

Geoff would not