Lara Croft in the Search for Xanadu
By
Neil Stokes
This story contains some violence and bad language.
Thanks to Eva, Chris and Jess.
Tomb Raider, Lara Croft, her image and likeness are trademark and copyright © of EIDOS Interactive and Core Design. No infringement or challenge to these copyrights is intended.
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Chapter 8: 'The Sunless Sea'
Lara Croft, waist-deep in the spiked grass that flowed as far as the horizon, watched the pale sun rise into a cloudless sky. The air was chill but refreshing after a night trussed up in a stuffy sleeping bag. Despite the hard ground and the insects she felt good and would have had an untroubled mind if it weren't for her thoughts of Angela. Over the last few days during the meetings with Hurt and her rapid but efficient preparations her fears for the child had rarely left her in peace. For a solitary unsentimental woman like Lara Croft the challenge of coming to terms with a spontaneous affection of the sort she had for the girl would be hard enough but the anxiety, of an almost maternal intensity, had removed even the little satisfaction she normally managed to squeeze from everyday life away from the tombs. She felt so much better now that the tomb raiding was really about to begin.
She cracked open the breech of her shotgun, slotting in cartridges while she concentrated on her next move. Here in the Popular Republic of Mongolia she was in Xanadu and before her a ragged hole in the ground gave access to caves; Coleridge's 'caverns measureless to man' that were supposed to lead to the Pleasure Dome. She cared less for finding the 'sunless sea', the 'fertile ground' or the 'forests ancient as the hills' of the poem than simply getting Angela out of there. And she knew that Angela was in those caves because Angela was with Smiley. Lara kicked an empty beer can out of the way: Smiley had been here. Accompanied by his sidekicks Pimp and Pump, he had left a trail a mile-wide that effectively invited Lara along their route: Cottting's route. Lara was now more convinced than ever that Smiley had something to do with Cotting's murder, at any rate his notes had obviously found their way into his hands. Her own conclusions drawn from hasty investigations made in the few days since Angela was taken pointed to the exact same spot she was standing on now. Shouldering her pack she swung her legs over the edge of the hole and began to carefully lower herself, hand over hand, into the darkness.
It was a long climb and treacherous in the blackness that engulfed her like a wave after the first few metres. She made slow progress in the light of the tiny torch she had gripped between her teeth. Forced to inhale through her nose, her breathing was seriously limited, adding to the general discomfort caused by the rough stone against her fingertips and the cramp in her neck from looking down and trying to see where the next foothold would be. After a while the discomfort was dulled by the mechanical cohesion of her movements and above all by the narrative of her thoughts that streamed unobtrusively in the background. She thought, with an irrepressible shudder, of how difficult it must have been to get Angela down this rock face; the girl could not have managed it by herself and a child would only seem small and light for a very short time. It hadn't been Smiley who had carried her, that was for sure - the man, well into middle age, didn't look after himself and must have surely used up any resources of spirit on a thousand grave robberies. It must have been one of the hideous twins he went around with. She had only seen them for a few moments in Barcelona but that had been enough for a lifetime. It wasn't the individual physical defects marring their appearance so much as the lack of any human warmth whatsoever in their dull eyes that had repulsed her. As her boots scraped against the uneven floor of the rock shaft she prayed yet again that Angela was all right.
The small torch didn't give off anywhere near enough light in the oppressive darkness so she lit a flare. She was in a damp twisting tunnel that ended behind her at the sheer rock face she had just descended. Ahead the tunnel snaked away into the black silence beyond the flare's light and although it showed the irregular forms of natural erosion, the general direction seemed to be downwards. As the flare started to choke Lara memorised as much of the scene as possible and re-lighting her torch set off. In the faintly warm silence of the caves she felt at home and this familiarity helped her to concentrate on what little of her surroundings were revealed by the thin beam of light she was following and to dispel the distracting worries about Angela.
Guided by her common sense and experience Lara made rapid progress through the tunnel. Stepping carefully over the slippery rocks and stalagmites scattered along her route she was on the lookout for intersections that would complicate matters by providing her with a difficult decision. It was only a matter of time and after a while she came to a fork. Left or right? Right or left? She'd been in this situation many times and the decision was never an easy one; topographical clues were of negligible use she'd discovered, often to her cost. Another flare showed the fork to the left as the widest with a high jagged ceiling. It was by far the most inviting compared with the descending ribbon of space that cut off to the right. Thrusting her hand into the pocket of her canvas shorts she pulled out the only piece of equipment she could think to help her out of this predicament: a coin. She balanced the pound coin on her thumb and paused to mentally assign heads to one of the tunnels before flicking it into the air. Immediately she held out her palm to catch the coin when it fell, but it never did. For a moment she imagined she must have missed it in the reduced glow of the flare but there had been no noise. Raising the flare above her head she looked upwards and there it was, precariously balanced on the bottom rung of an ancient iron ladder coated with rust. Lara smiled to herself and shook her head. Up!
In spite of her initial fears about the ladder holding her weight it seemed strong enough once she had caught hold of the bottom and began climbing. In fact a few minutes later she had left it behind and was crawling on all fours down a narrow man-made shaft that seemed never-ending. The shaft was completely straight and sloped downwards slightly. In the cramped crawling space the air was dull and musty; her laboured breathing sounded harsh and loud, it's echo giving her the impression of being pursued by some panting creature. She continued crawling without pause despite the fatigue and the jabbing pain she felt in her knees. After a long time the shaft began to level out and she could see a faint silvery glow in the distance. As she came closer she saw it was an opening, the end of the tunnel through which a pale delicate sheen like moonlight allowed her to put away the torch and investigate. Cautiously poking her head through the opening Lara's eyes widened in fascination at the sight before her. "Wow!" she said out loud.
Hundreds of metres below the hole, which was about halfway up a sheer cliff face, lay the 'sunless sea' of Coleridge's poem. An enormous lake, silent and still, its surface shone like polished silver in an unworldly light that emanated from the surrounding rocks. She was amazed and kneeling there could only stare in disbelief at this stone that appeared illuminated from within. The lake was ringed on three sides by towering cliffs of shining stone while on the far side from where she squinted she could make out a silver beach with a jetty and beyond that dark hills and ghostly woods. Further in the distance still, framed by an impenetrable darkness like a silver moon, stood the Pleasure Dome. Lara's eye wandered back from the beautiful translucent Dome and over the hills, which where too far away and too shrouded in darkness for her to discern any details. The fantasy beach of silvery glowing pebbles was nearer and she could see a small boat tied to the jetty. It was a modern inflatable boat with oars and the sight of it brought Angela back into her mind. She was on Smiley's trail all right but she had no idea how far ahead they were; the walk to the Dome could be a day or two away. She prayed for Angela's safety yet again before telling herself to stop gawking and get on with it.
The cliff was almost perpendicular to the black lake below and she had little appetite to attempt the climb down its smooth glowing surface. A witness would have assumed she was stuck with no choice other than making her way back and searching for another route. However, they would have seen Lara Croft inch further out onto a tiny ledge before standing with her legs fused together and her arms stretched out to her sides. They would have noted her closed eyes and the series of deep, controlled breaths taken at the same time as she bent her knees slightly. In disbelief they would have seen her suddenly launch herself into the air, upwards and away from the cliff face as she brought her arms together and plummet in a graceful unswerving swallow dive into the water below.