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Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Sour Grapes for Atlantis, "A Professor Challenger Story."
When I first read The Lost World by by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle I was mentally stunned. It was so old fashioned, yet so marvelous in its excitement and concepts. As a child I had been introduced to a much larger world and a more frightening one, though these days I have come to find many of our real world situations much more scary by far.
Enjoy Professor Challenger from my Baker Street Universe series as he explores with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself!
--Best to everyone, John--
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Sour Grapes for Atlantis
"A Professor Challenger Story."
John Pirillo
Challenger wasn't
exactly afraid of going into the very narrow tunnel. It was more like
thoughtful. He remembered quite distinctly getting caught in the last one and
being humiliated when he had to be dragged out by the seat of his pants to
freedom.
"I can do
this." He told himself, not believing a word of it.
"I really am
getting too young to be doing this." He muttered, angry at himself for
having even an ounce of doubt.
"Challenger,
are you going to enter or not." Conan hollered at him from inside the
tunnel.
"Well if you
can do it, I see no reason why I cannot." Challenger decided with a
certainty he wasn't exactly feeling. Sweat broke out on his flushed red
forehead as he tilted into the opening, dropped to his knees and began crawling
towards Conan.
"Come on, Challenger;
don't go sour grapes on me." Conan chided.
Challenger swatted
at the huge flies pouring all over him from inside and outside. "It's
beastly hot in here and I hate grapes, sour or not." He confided in a
burst of righteous outrage.
Conan ignored him.
He kept sliding backwards deeper into the opening, like a carrot before a
donkey, teasing his friend to follow. He knew he wouldn't get stuck. He had
already been inside and back now to lead Challenger, but he knew his friend's
fears of tight spaces were very real and didn't want to shortchange him by
calling him a coward, for he was nothing such. A man who could survive the
attack of a Tyrannosaur had nothing to worry about heroic moments, even the
ones that required him to go into a very tight enclosed space.
"I'm coming,
I'm coming." Challenger said over and over, as if to calm Conan, when in
fact it was to keep his mind off his own nerves.
And the last time.
It was Atlantis. Or
rather what remained of it at the time? Most of it had submerged off the coast
of Africa, and its remains stretched all the way to the new world of the
Mericas. He had been enticed by the possibility of finding one of the legendary
crystals that that ancient civilization had supposedly had the use of. Such
power was unheard of, even with Tesla, Edison and Einstein driving modern
technology at a breakneck pace.
He had been invited
in the explorations by an old friend of his, the Count, or as some called him
Dracula. He preferred being called the Count, as it didn't have as many
negative ramifications as Dracula. A long maligned family line, he had proven a
true prince of grace and rescued many natives of the sinking portions of
Atlantis, and removed them to his native lands, given them new land to build
and cultivate, and help in the construction of new homes and jobs.
The Count never
liked to talk about that part of his life, he considered it dull and
unromantic, besides the lack of humility it implied. Ever the humble man,
except when in public, he preferred anonymity for his gracious deeds.
He had been helped
to function in the daylight by a device created by Tesla and Edison based on some
physics that Einstein had come up with. With the device he was able to cloak
the harmful rays of the sun so they did not harm his body. He could survive in
direct sunlight, but it took him weeks to heal from the damage he incurred. Rumors of silver and sunlight
killing vampires were nonsense, as vampires were a natural mutation of the
order of life, and not supernatural creatures. At least not in the world that
this Professor Challenger had been born.
Magic was taken as
natural and normal here, and no one gave it a second thought, unless they were
being harmed by it. But there were organizations that dealt with black magic,
voodoo and the practice of evil spells. They were highly hidden and remarkably
efficient in taking out those who promised to be a threat to the world of
today.
They were the Baker
Street Adventurers, of whom he was one.
But at that time it
was just him and the Count. The Count had discovered a vault was hidden deep in
the central core of a falling island. It only had a matter of hours before it
would sink completely and he and the Count had to work quickly if they were to
invade the vault and retrieve some of the valuable crystals of Atlantis hidden
there.
The Count had slid
through the tunnel effortlessly, able to use his double jointed nature to slip
through tight crevices. But alas, poor Challenger had gotten stuck on the way
out, and with but a few minutes to spare before the sea claimed the tunnel and
all within. Himself. The Count had to use drastic measures.
He had bitten
Challenger in his bottom. The pain of it was nothing like the humiliation he
felt to have a vampire take a healthy chunk from his generous bottom. He had
screamed as if his very soul were being taken and broken through the crevice
holding him, rushed outside, and then turned around to battle the Count, quite
having forgotten why he was bitten in the first place.
"Well, here we
are. The water is rising and our ride awaits us." The Count said calmly as
the Professor reached for his heavy pistol.
Challenger suddenly relaxed
his color normalizing as he realized he had been saved. He rubbed his aching
bottom and told the Count. "If you tell a soul what happened here, I shall
never let you see the light of day again."
The Count laughed.
"Not such a big loss. But I will be quiet as a form of friendship which I
owe you."
Challenger,
mollified, had taken the one crystal they had found and raised it up to examine
it more closely. It was purple in color.
As he looked at it
the purple seemed to break apart, and he could see his other hand. Then the
stench struck him.
He dropped the
crystal, which was no such thing.
"We have been
hoodwinked!" Challenger cried out. "This is nothing more than a
prehistoric grape!"
And ever since that
day whenever Atlantis was mentioned he could only think of that foul odor of
the sour petrified grape.
Challenger finally
managed to squeeze through the narrow opening that Conan had widened for him
and entered a chamber of magnificent proportions that he could stand in. He
felt all his fears vanish as he looked on in awe at the beautiful Elven runes
carved into the marble walls, which formed a semi-circle about a fountain of
spring water that flowed endlessly from a bulb shaped flower that lit up the
room with sparkles of light.
Conan smiled.
"I told you it would be worth it."
Challenger smiled.
"My dear friend, Conan, I feel absolutely no sour grapes about Atlantis
this time. For we have found the Fountain of Youth. Unfortunately..." He
laughed. "It only works for Elves."
They both laughed,
then Conan gave him a peculiar look and Challenger laughed even harder. Conan
didn't need to know exactly why he knew that.
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