a walk in the dark

<pre><nowiki> . . * . . . . * . . . . . . . . o . . . . . . 0 . . . , , , . \ . . . \ , a walk . o . . in the . . . \ , . dark . {{{#\##\#}}} . . . {{{# #O##\###}}} . . . #*# #\##\### . , . ##*# #\##\## . . . ##*# #o##\# . , . . *# #\# . . . , \ . . ____^/\___^--____/\____\______________/\/\---/\___________---______________ /\^ ^ ^ ^ ^^ ^ '\ ^ ^ --- -- - -- - - --- __ ^ -- __ ___-- ^ ^ -- __ Cosmic Tsar presents: A walk in the dark A story by Arthur C. Clark Art by Robert Casey Programming by Max V. *WARNING: May contain loud sound effects!* (transition-depart: "dissolve")[[My torch failed...]] [[Change colours]] </nowiki></pre>

*this is an interactive story* *click on the underlined text and choose your fate* ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ My torch failed... I walked for about two miles, and now my torch fails? How misfortunate can I really be? [[I threw the torch away]] [[I kept the torch]] <script> var audio = document.createElement('audio'); audio.src = 'https://opengameart.org/sites/default/files/full%20steps%20stereo.ogg'; audio.loop = true; audio.play(); </script>

Half maddened with rage, I hurled the useless instrument away. It landed somewhere in the darkness, disturbing the silence of this little world. A metallic echo came ringing back from the low hills: then all was quiet again. (set: $hasTorch to false) (set: $stress to 0) [[Nothing more can happen to me now]] <audio src="https://opengameart.org/sites/default/files/Metal%20Hit.mp3" autoplay>

I have decided to control my emotions towards that useless device. I pocketed it and continued walking. (set: $hasTorch to true) (set: $stress to 1) [[Nothing more can happen to me now]]

*Sometimes you can choose to focus on some of your thoughts* +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Who would have believed that the [[only tractor at Camp IV]] would have broken down when I was just setting off for [[Port Sanderson]]? [[I decided it is no use regretting the lateness of my departure]]

Only a few hours ago. The frenzied repair work, the relief when the second start had been made, and the final debacle when the caterpillar track had jammed. [[I had had to leave all my equipment behind...]]

It was no use then regretting the lateness of my departure: I could not have foreseen these accidents, and it was still a good [[four hours->Port Sanderson]] before the Canopus took off. I had to catch her, whatever happened; no other ship would be touching at this world for [[another month]].

Four more weeks on this out-of-the-way planet were [[unthinkable->Though, I am in no real danger...]].

It was lucky that Port Sanderson was little more than [[six miles->four miles]] from the camp—not a great distance, even [[on foot->The road was poor...]]. (set: $miles to "six")

I had had to leave all my equipment behind... but it could follow on the next ship and I could manage without it. [[The road was poor...]]

It was, of course, pitch-dark. Here at the edge of the [[Galaxy]] the stars were so few and scattered that their light was negligible. The strange crimson sun of this lonely world would not rise for many hours, and although five of the little moons were in the sky, they could barely be seen by the unaided eye. Not one of them could even cast [[a shadow->This reminded me of a story...]].

The road was poor... merely stamped out of the rock by one of the Board’s hundred-ton crushers, but there was no [[fear->This reminded me of a story...]] of [[going astray]].

Was there a curve here, or had I veered off to the right again? Yes, there was no mistake: the road was bending to the left. How did it look during daytime? Did this mean that I was [[nearing the Pass]]? I hoped so, for the journey would then be half-completed. [[I decided to follow the road->I continued to the left]] [[I went straight ahead->I walked on forward]]

What I heard was... friendly and familiar! Drifting through the still air from a source clearly not more than a mile away came the sound of a landing-field tractor, perhaps one of the machines loading the Canopus itself. The journey was nearly ended. In a few moments, this evil plain would be no more than a (if: $stress <= 3)[[[fading nightmare->good]]](else:)[[fading nightmare]].

It seemed terribly unfair: so little time, such a small fraction of a human life, was all I needed now. But the gods have always been unfair to man, and now there were enjoying their little jest. For there could be no mistaking the rattle of monstrous claws in the darkness ahead of me. [[I have to try again...->Start]] <audio src="https://files.freemusicarchive.org/storage-freemusicarchive-org/music/ccCommunity/Alan_Spiljak/Colors/Alan_Spiljak_-_08_-_Not_the_end.mp3" autoplay> <audio src="https://files.freemusicarchive.org/storage-freemusicarchive-org/music/WFMU/TV_Pow/Winter_Construction/TV_Pow_-_13_-_livemetro_kyoto_japan.mp3" autoplay> <script> audio.pause(); </script>

I laughed at my fears as I strolled into my already reserved stateroom in the “Canopus,” and felt that peculiar quiver as the phantom drive hurled the great ship far out of this system, back to the clustered star-clouds near the center of the Galaxy—back toward Earth itself, which I had not seen for so many years. One day, I really must visit Earth again. [[Finally]] <audio src="https://files.freemusicarchive.org/storage-freemusicarchive-org/music/ccCommunity/Alan_piljak/Silverlight/Alan_piljak_-_06_-_Stars_above.mp3" autoplay> <script> audio.pause(); </script>

Thank you for playing this game! Is there more to this story? [[Try again->Start]] I would like to hear your feedback in the comments! Music credits: Alan Špiljak: Forgotten, Not the end, Stars above TV Pow: live@metro, kyoto, japan Brandon Morris: Random sound samples Marcelo Fernandez: Metal hit Art credit: Robert Casey: Saturn as seen from one of its moons Story by Arthur C. Clarke Adapted to interactive fiction by Max V.

I peered ahead into the blackness, but the ragged line of the horizon told me nothing. Presently I found that the road had straightened itself again and my spirits sank. The entrance to the Pass must still be some way ahead: there were at least [[four miles]] to go. [[I continued to the left]] [[I walked on forward]] (set: $miles to "four")

Only (print: $miles) miles! How ridiculous the distance seemed! How long would it take the Canopus to travel (print: $miles) miles? I doubted if man could measure so short an interval of time. And how many trillions of miles had I traveled in my life? It must have reached a staggering total by now. In the last twenty years I had scarcely stayed more than a month at a time on any single world. This very year, I had twice made the crossing of the [[Galaxy]], and that was a notable journey even in these days of the phantom drive. [[I continued to the left->loose stone]] [[I walked on forward->loose stone]]

I tripped over a loose stone, and the jolt brought me back to reality. It was no use, here, thinking of ships that could eat up the light-years. I was facing Nature, with no weapons but my own strength and skill. [[This reminded me of a story...]] [[I was focused on my destination->on my way]]

It was almost a relief when I had to grope with my hands until I found the road. This seemed a very rough patch, and the road was scarcely distinguishable from the rocks around. In a few minutes, however, I was safely [[on my way]] again.

Wait. Where wass the road? The ground was too jagged to tell apart the surfaces. This was my worst fear realised. [[I went back->lost]] [[I continued in hopes of finding my path->I continued to the left]]

There was no doubt that the road was slowly rising, and the silhouette of the horizon seemed much higher in the sky. The [[road]] began to twist, and suddenly there great rocks on either of my sides. Soon only a narrow ribbon of sky was still visible, and the [[darkness]] became, if possible, even more intense.

I felt he was leaving the Pass. The rocks on either side were falling away, and the road was no longer as firm and well packed as it had been. I was coming out into the open plain once more. [[The ground was...]] [[How long have I been walking?]]

I saw the lights come up over the horizon... It was a shock, though one of the most pleasant I had ever known. Port Sanderson! The nearness of my goal had robbed it of [[terror]]. [[I rushed towards the lights!->A few minutes later...]]

A few minutes later... I came to the sudden bend in the road. I had forgotten the chasm that caused my detour, and added half a mile to the journey. Well, what of it? An extra half-mile would make no difference now—another ten minutes, at the most. [[I followed the bend]] (if: $stress >= 2)[[I went straight to the lights]]

It was very disappointing when the lights of the city vanished. I had not remembered the hill which the road was skirting, perhaps it was only a low ridge, scarcely noticeable in the daytime. But by hiding the lights of the port it had taken away my chief talisman and left me again at the mercy of my [[fears]].

Very unreasonably, I began to think how horrible it would be if anything happened now, so near the end of the journey. I kept the worst of my fears at bay for a while, hoping desperately that the lights of the city would soon appear. But as the minutes dragged on, I realized that the ridge must be longer than I imagined. I tried to cheer myself by the thought that the city would be all the nearer when I saw it again, but somehow logic seemed to have failed me now. For presently I found himself doing something I had not stooped to, even out in the waste by Carver’s Pass. [[I stopped...]] (if: $stress is <= 1)[[I wasn't going to stop now...]]

I stopped, turned slowly round, and with bated breath listened until my lungs were nearly bursting. The silence was uncanny, considering how near I must be to the Port. There was certainly no sound from behind me. Of course there wouldn’t be. But I was immensely relieved. I heard a noise in front of me. [[What I heard was...->The noise was...]] <script> audio.pause(); </script>

Indeed, the thought that I might really be in danger seemed to give my adventure a certain piquancy and heightened interest. [[Nothing could happen to me now->fears]], with ten minutes to go and the [[lights->A few minutes later...]] of the Port already in sight.

(if: $mode is "zen")[<script>$('tw-link').addClass('zen');$('tw-story').addClass('zen');</script>] (if: $mode is "mac")[<script>$('tw-link').addClass('mac');$('tw-story').addClass('mac');</script>] (if: $mode is "ibm1")[<script>$('tw-link').addClass('ibm1');$('tw-story').addClass('ibm1');</script>] (if: $mode is "ibm2")[<script>$('tw-link').addClass('ibm2');$('tw-story').addClass('ibm2');</script>]

<u>[[Zenith ZVM 1240]]</u> <u>[[Macintosh]]</u> <u>[[IBM 8503]]</u> <u>[[IBM 5151]]</u>

(set: $mode to "zen") [[I like it->Start]] [[Let me see the other ones->Change colours]]

(set: $mode to "mac") [[I like it->Start]] [[Let me see the other ones->Change colours]]

(set: $mode to "ibm1") [[I like it->Start]] [[Let me see the other ones->Change colours]]

(set: $mode to "ibm2") [[I like it->Start]] [[Let me see the other ones->Change colours]]

It was strange that it took me so long to identify the real cause of my uneasiness. The last four weeks had been very full, and the rush of my departure, coupled with the annoyance and anxiety caused by the tractor’s breakdowns, had driven everything else from my mind. Until now, I had forgotten all about that [[first evening at the Base]].

It was then that the old Base clerk had told the story of his walk by night from Port Sanderson to the camp, and of what had trailed him through Carver’s Pass, keeping always beyond the limit of his torchlight. I, who had heard such tales on a score of worlds, had paid it little attention at the time. This planet, after all, was known to be uninhabited. But logic could not dispose of the matter as easily as that. Suppose, after all, there was some [[truth]] in the old man’s fantastic [[tale]].

A party of skeptical technicians had gone into the no-man’s land beyond Carver’s Pass. They were not skeptical enough to leave their guns behind, but they had no cause to use them for they found no trace of any living thing. There were the inevitable pits and tunnels, glistening holes down which the light of the torches rebounded endlessly until it was lost in the distance—but the planet was riddled with them. [[They found something else]] [[I've heard enough for today.]]

The clerk had been very insistent on one point. He had never heard any sound of pursuit from the dim shape sensed, rather than seen, at the limit of his light. There was no scuffling of claws or hoofs on rock, not even the clatter of displaced stones. It was as if, so the old man had declared in that solemn manner of his, *“as if the thing that was following could see perfectly in the darkness, and had many small legs or pads so that it could move swiftly and easily over the rock—like a giant caterpillar or one of the carpet-things of Kralkor II.”* (set: $stress to it + 1) [[Yet...]] [[I've heard enough for today.]]

Yet... although there had been no noise of pursuit, there had been one sound that the old man had caught several times. It was so unusual that its very strangeness made it doubly ominous. It was a faint but horribly persistent clicking. (set: $stress to it + 1) [[Clicking?]] [[I've heard enough for today.]]

Nevertheless, it was a grim picture that the old stores clerk had painted. Back in the warm, well-lighted smoking room, with the drinks going around, it had been easy enough to laugh at it. But here in the darkness, miles from any human settlement, it was very different. [[I continued walking->on my way]]

*“Have you ever listened to a large insect crunching its prey?”* he said. *“Well, it was just like that. I imagine that a crab makes exactly the same noise with its claws when it clashes them together. It was a—what’s the word?—a chitinous sound.”* (set: $stress to it + 1) *[["Why hadn't the creature attacked you?"]]* [[I've heard enough for today.]] <audio src="https://files.freemusicarchive.org/storage-freemusicarchive-org/music/WFMU/TV_Pow/Winter_Construction/TV_Pow_-_13_-_livemetro_kyoto_japan.mp3" autoplay>

I was not zigzagging so badly now. It was probable that I was traveling almost as fast as if I had a light. If all went well, I might be nearing [[Port Sanderson->I saw the lights of come up over the horizon...]] in thirty minutes—a ridiculously small space of [[time]].

*“Because it was afraid of my light,”* the old chap had said. Well, that was plausible enough: it would explain why nothing had ever been seen in the daylight. Such a creature might live underground, only emerging at night. [[Why was I even listening to this old fool?->I've heard enough for today.]]

Though the party found no sign of life, it discovered one thing it did not like at all. Out in the barren and unexplored land beyond the Pass they had come upon an even larger tunnel than the rest. Near the mouth of that tunnel was a massive rock, half embedded in the ground. And the sides of that rock had been worn away as if it had been used as an enormous whetstone. (set: $stress to it + 1) [[I've heard enough for today.]]

Somehow, I felt safer with the rock walls surrounding me: it meant that I was protected except in two directions. Also, the road had been leveled more carefully and it was easy to keep it. Best of all, I knew now that the journey was more than half completed. (set: $stress to it - 2) [[I continued on my trek]]

Not far away in the darkness was that enigmatic pillar that might have been used for sharpening monstrous fangs or claws. It was not a reassuring thought, but I could not get it out of my mind. (set: $stress to it + 1) [[I tried not to think about it]] [[I felt distinctly worried now]]

I couldn't waste any more minutes. I tried scaling the hill. This might have been more difficlt than I have hoped. [[I tried my best to climb the hill->lost]] [[There was still time to turn back->I followed the bend]]

I saw an array of lights rising into the now illuminated sky ahead. At that moment I knew, my efforts were in vain. All I could do now is fall to my knees and watch the sunrise. No one is coming for me... <audio src="https://files.freemusicarchive.org/storage-freemusicarchive-org/music/ccCommunity/Alan_piljak/Silverlight/Alan_piljak_-_02_-_Forgotten.mp3" autoplay> [[I have to try again...->Start]] <script> audio.pause(); </script>

The ground was quite flat again, and the road drove on straight as an arrow. [[Port Sanderson->I saw the lights of come up over the horizon...]] could not be much more than [[two miles away->time]].

But presently, with a maddening persistence, every train of thought came back to the same point. I could not get out of my mind the picture of that inexplicable rock and its appalling possibilities. Over and over again I found myself wondering how far away it was, whether I had already passed it, and whether it was on his [[right->fading nightmare]] or his [[left->fading nightmare]]. Did it really matter?

Feeling distinctly worried now, I made great effort to pull myself together. I would try to be rational again; I would think of business, the work I had done at the camp—anything but this infernal place. [[I pictured a calm beach]] [[I focused on walking]]

Why would I? My "adventure" is almost over. In a few moments I will be sitting in one of the comfortable Canopus chairs. [[There it was...->good]]

The dread that I might see a vast constellation of lights rising swiftly into the sky ahead, and know that all this agony of mind had been in vain. That thought alone was terrifying. (set: $stress to it + 1) [[What if something happened now?->fears]]

I had no idea how long he had been on the road. Unfortunately my watch was not illuminated and I could only guess at the passage of [[time]].

With any luck, the Canopus should not take off for another two hours at least. But I could not be sure, and now another [[fear->fear1]] began to enter my mind.

My thoughts were harmless again, and I felt calmer. The knowledge that I was nearing [[Port Sanderson->I saw the lights of come up over the horizon...]] was immensely reassuring, and I deliberately kept his mind on familiar, unimportant matters. Carver’s Pass was already far behind, and with it that thing he no longer intended to recall. One day, if I ever returned to this world, I would visit the pass in the daytime and laugh at my fears. In twenty minutes now, they would have joined the [[nightmares->fear1]] of my childhood. (set: $stress to it - 1)

One day, I really must visit Earth again... [[It is so beautiful...->loose stone]]