Cage Match 2013 Round Two: IT vs. The Thing
(Originally posted on the since-retired Suvudu.com on March 13, 2013)
A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeleine L’Engle
Weapons / Artifacts: All the defenses of the planet Camazotz; intrusive telepathic powers
Special Attack: Erosion of the will and dominance of the spirit.
Mental powers can be overcome by emotions like love
Not used to being challenged
Who Goes There? by John W. Campbell
Age: At least 20,000 years
Race: Shapeshifting, body-infiltrating extraterrestrial
Weapons / Artifacts: Transforms its appendages into any weapon of its choosing
Special Attack: Renders men insane with future dream vision
Can completely become any living organic form that it enters
Scientific knowledge beyond human comprehension
Won’t attack in the open for fear of outing itself
Self-preserving tissue can reveal true nature by reflexively recoiling from danger
Appears to be incapable of becoming any form from memory for more than an instant
Griffin, The Invisible Man
Port Burdock was no stranger to the peculiar behaviors of scientists, especially given the incident of one unspeakably corrupt individual who had terrorized the town many years ago. So although Doctor Kemp had once barely shown signs of the eccentricities that one might expect from someone of his profession, the once unassuming scientist had begun to work in isolation and to develop the disposition of a desperate, impatient man, giving the townsfolk the vague inkling of an impression that perhaps his former house servant had known something of his true nature after all.But ultimately, the townspeople of Port Burdock could reasonably attribute any change in his behavior to the traumatic invisible man incident, being that he was closer to it than almost anyone else. That is, it’s not as if Thomas Marvel were the model for sanity after his direct involvement with the mad invisible man. It’s not as if one could be too suspicious of Kemp’s isolation and increasingly exotic taste in rare materials imported from all over the world. It’s not as if anyone would ever suspect that Kemp was working to unlock the secrets of time and space so that he could tesser far, far away from this galaxy. Such a suspicion would be insane, grounds for being committed as once his servant had.
Kemp was not entirely Kemp. Kemp possessed impossible scientific knowledge, the blueprints to the universe, and had, finally, after years of searching, gathered the pieces necessary to create a permanent tesser device, a portal to another world. Kemp would have been the most brilliant man alive. If he were merely a man.
With the final rare metals welded in place and the portal device humming to life, Kemp could finally, after 20,000 years, leave this planet — and return with an army. Absolutely certain of his coordinates, Kemp stepped through the whirling blue vortex of the portal, jubilant to have finally found a way back home.
Before the transfer of his molecules was complete in the passage through the wormhole, Kemp could already feel that something had gone wrong. A possible miscalculation? Highly unlikely, but there was no explaining the bitterly cold sensation that raced through his every atom. There was nothing comforting that occurred to Kemp, no matter how logical the thought process in that lightning flash of a moment, to explain away that dreadful feeling that he had felt only once before when he had first crash-landed on Earth, frozen near-instantly when he stepped out of his ship.
Such wild agitation replaced his prior cheeriness; it was almost a discomfort to emerge through the cold folds of time, arriving on his home planet. Almost. The hilly landscape was immediately recognizable, the climate familiarly tepid, and the star of his world so welcoming that he couldn’t help but feel, for a moment, satisfied to have returned home to his planet Camazotz.
But this is where familiarity and comfort ended, because instead of the metallic spires and domes that once marked the capital of his once great civilization, he saw rows of identical, drab dwellings that reminded him of primitive Earth homes. He saw, in uncannily synchronized unity, samey human females reaching out of their open doorways to pick up their newspapers on their stoops. Throughout the entire length of the block, everyone stopped and stared at him, curious but fearful, for Kemp was out of place and stood silhouetted by a swirling blue portal.
Catching themselves, the people slammed their doors shut, some even dropping their newspapers, and many scurried quickly to their windows to stare at Kemp through the blinds. This was entirely wrong, Kemp knew. He could tell from the sun and the air and from his impeccably calculated coordinates that this was indeed his home world. But what Kemp didn’t know was that 20,000 years had passed since his crash landing on Earth, for in his frozen state he was not aware of the passage of time, and certainly unaware of the fate of his race. For him, he had only been away from home for a handful of years.
But it only took him a moment to understand. His telepathic capacity could read the minds of all living creatures around him, even behind closed doors. He reached out far and wide with his mind. It only took a moment for him to understand that his species no longer ruled this planet, and that the people here answered to a higher power, a power that immediately greeted him inside his own head. Hello, friend. You’re different from the others. The voice had a sing-song rhythmic quality, a quality that was immediately recognizable to a fellow telepath who could influence more primitive lifeforms. The voice quickly sensed this. You’ve worn the disguise of Doctor Kemp for many years, but I can see right through you. I can see you for what you truly are.
One building stood out in the skyline, distinct among these primitive earthlike dwellings, tall and metal, almost pulsating with significance. Kemp knew that this was the source of the voice, the source for the change of his home world. Not yet certain of his next move, he probed and answered, And I can see what you truly are. They could keep nothing from each other. A puppet master. Kemp understood how much time had passed since he crashed on Earth, and the war that waged here on Camazotz and across the galaxy. A genocidist. Kemp’s thoughts became furious. You exterminated my people. Kemp’s thoughts became resigned. You will do the same to me.
Kemp knew that he had to get back to the portal immediately, but suddenly became surrounded by rounded, wheeled vehicles. The moment he turned to escape, the portal dissipated. Older gentlemen in identical suits, all with glowing red eyes fixed on him like lasers, stepped out of the three vehicles that formed a barricade around him.
IT, the voice of his species’ conqueror, spoke ever calmly in Kemp’s head. I know that you will not submit. You will never accept the peace that I could offer you, just as your kind rejected peace so long ago. I know that you will fight. And you and I both know that you will lose.
For the first time since leaving Antarctica years ago, Kemp showed his true self. The Thing that had fled Antarctica as a severely injured bird and taken over the defenseless scientist Kemp revealed itself with limbs that morphed into giant blades and sprouted extra appendages that became wings, lifting the Thing off the ground.
But it was for nothing. The stoic red-eyed pawns of IT raised their hands and flicked their fingers in such a way that they distorted the Thing’s very molecules, crushing its wings against its body and grounding it immediately. With exasperation, IT said, I offer you one more chance to submit and embrace peace. There is no use in fighting us.
And there’s no use in lying, answered the Thing, for it knew that anything that could not submit to IT would be exterminated. The Thing thrashed suddenly, growing and swinging its giant scythe-like blade down into the necks of one of the three pawns, killing him instantly, but the remaining two managed to maneuver their hands in a way that instantly crushed every molecule of The Thing into the size of the tip of a pen, and for all its attempts to reconfigure its molecules back into fighting form, it could not gain control over its shapeshifting capabilities again.
Kept perfectly compact. the Thing was transported to a crematorium to be finally wiped from existence, the last of its kind.
NOTE: THIS MATCH ENDS ON Friday, March 15th, 2013, AT 5 PM, EST
Check out all the Cage Match 2013 posts!
Check out the round 1 recap and Cage Match 2013 Bracket!
IT is a character from Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time ; The Thing is a character from Who Goes There? by John W. Campbell.
IT image courtesy of ShutterStock. The Thing image is from the original book art.
Cage Match fans: We are looking forward to hearing your responses! If possible, please abstain from including potential spoilers about the books in your comments (and if you need spoilers to make your case, start your comments with: “SPOILER ALERT!”
