Kelley’s head grew light, his vision washing out in a hazy blue.
When his eyes popped open again, he was facedown on the platform, Roderick standing over him.
“So,” Roderick began, “how do you feel?” Roderick held a quill poised over a piece of parchment.
Kelley felt strange, but also… rested? He stood. Yes. His aches and pains had vanished, as if he’d had a good night’s sleep. As if he’d never been hungover in his life. He relayed this information to Roderick, who scribbled it on the parchment.
“Good, good.” Roderick nodded, scribbled further notes. “This confirms what we suspected. Excellent.”
“What did you do to me?”
“Nothing you shouldn’t be thankful for, my good man. While you alchemists are mixing your little potions and bowel remedies, the Astrologers’ and Wizards’ Guild is harnessing the power of the cosmos.”
“That’s a good trick. Please explain.”
“What do you know of sunlight?”
“It’s warm and orange.”
“Bah!” Roderick made an impatient face. “You call yourself a man of science. Very well, I’ll try to keep this simple. When the sun comes up, you see its light shining down on the world. Seems simple, doesn’t it? But you are, in fact, seeing millions of things happening at once. Countless elements all coming together in what seems to be the single phenomenon we call light. There are a number of waves, and they span a wide spectrum. But not just waves. Sunlight is actually composed-somewhat-of particles also, millions of them so small they are unobservable by the human eye. You’re understanding all this?”
“Of course,” said Kelley, who understood not one bit of it.
“I have spent a lifetime discovering these secrets and designing the lenses. By filtering out some waves and particles and allowing others to pass through, we can control… well… the full implications have yet to be fathomed. The sun is both the destroyer and creator of all life on Mother Earth. It is the Alpha and the Omega of all existence. Rudolph’s generous support has allowed my work to reach fruition.”
Kelley cleared his throat. “Yes, well, Rudolph has us working on an important project as well. The alchemists are divining the secret process of transmuting lead into gold.”
Roderick paused, looked at Edward Kelley blankly, then burst into uncontrolled laughter. He stopped abruptly upon seeing Kelley’s expression. “Oh, hell, you’re serious, aren’t you? Well… that’s, you know, that’s… uh… that’s a good project too. Yeah.”
Kelley sighed.
Upon seeing the alchemist unplacated, Roderick went on to say, “Listen, Kelley, you’ve been a good sport, letting me blast you with the lens and all. If you still want, I can probably arrange a quick glance at that iron box you’re so curious about.”
“That would be most gracious,” Kelley said.
The brand on his ass stung briefly.
Roderick led him into the dungeons deep below the castle, past armed guards, through dim passageways illuminated by flickering torches. Kelley had not foreseen, nor desired, being underground again so quickly. He wondered if there were tunnels that connected the dungeons below the castle with the passages below St. Vitus Cathedral.
They finally arrived at a large set of thick, wooden double doors. Kelley counted a dozen guards in heavy armor standing in front of the doors and crowding the passage. They eyed Kelley with grim suspicion but parted to let Roderick enter. Kelley followed the astrologer into a large chamber with a vaulted ceiling. Braziers in each corner provided enough light for Kelley to clearly see an iron box on the far side of the room, a good hundred feet away.
Kelley also saw the dead bodies.
A half-dozen blackened corpses within ten feet of the iron box, all contorted in various stages of agony. Closer to Kelley were another three bodies, less charred but just as dead. Back another twenty feet was another dead man. The last body was maybe forty feet from where Kelley stood behind a rope that stretched the width of the chamber.
“We’ve been trying to determine the minimum safe distance for examining the object,” Roderick explained. “We open the box and see if a man can live. If he doesn’t, we move back ten or twenty feet and try again.”
“You used live men for this?” Kelley swallowed hard, felt ill.
“Prisoners.” Roderick pointed at the closest body. “That fellow was a horse thief, I think. The object emits some sort of invisible, destructive rays, not completely dissimilar to the sun waves I told you about earlier. Naturally, they called me in to lead the experiments. Rudolph is most excited by the find.”
“This seems too dangerous to fool around with.”
“There is always a certain amount of risk in discovery.” Roderick reached for a thin rope dangling two feet away. “This line is attached to pulleys which will open the lid of the box if I pull on it. That’s how we were able to safely open it when we sent the prisoners out. You can’t see much from here, but would you like a look at the object?”
No. Kelley didn’t want to see it. He wanted to run out as fast as he could, screaming all the way. His ass-brand flared a warning. Kelley winced and said, “Yes. Let me see it.”
Roderick pulled the rope, and the iron box’s lid creaked open.
A rock. That’s all it was, a rock about the size of a dog’s head. It did not glow or pulse. No screaming devils leaped from the box. A rock.
Then something. The room seemed to shimmer, like heat on summer cobblestones. A dark uneasiness crept into Kelley’s gut, a sickly foreboding, the sudden acute certainty that sinister fingers probed him, reached inside his very soul. Any feeling of well-being left by Roderick’s lens was utterly erased, leaving only the sour taste of decay.
“Close it,” Kelley said. “Close it now, please.”
Roderick released the rope, and the lid slammed shut. The sick feeling ceased immediately, like stepping away from a hot cook stove.
“Yes, best to keep it shut,” said the astrologer. “We’re at a safe distance, but better safe than sorry, eh?”
An acidic aftertaste lingered in Kelley’s mouth. He turned away and spit. Rude. “Sorry about that.”
“I did the same thing the first time,” Roderick said.
“It’s…” Kelley shivered. “Evil.”
“Come, come, my good man, no, of course not. Let us conduct ourselves as men of science. Good. Evil. Terms peasants use for things beyond their understanding.”
“Yes. Of course. I think I just need some air. Maybe we could go back now.”
“Understandable. Yes, some fresh air will do you well, my good man.”
Kelley followed Roderick back to the surface, memorizing every twist and turn in the dungeon. He would tell Edgar. The Society must know. This thing must be destroyed or hidden. Kelley was as sure of this as he was of his own existence.
Only a simple lump of rock, yet Kelley felt as if he’d looked into the eyes of hell itself.
TWENTY-FOUR
I didn’t know at the time, but I was already dead. The dose of radiation I took would eat at me, and in a few short years that would be it. Like John Wayne and those other film stars, who got zapped in the desert without even knowing it, the whole time chasing stuntmen painted up to look like Red Indians.
Anyway, Allen is nearly naked and in the company of an attractive young lady. My guess is you’ll find that much more interesting than my little tale of woe.
GIRL TROUBLE
TWENTY-FIVE
Allen stood in his dorm room, a white towel wrapped around him, pulling clean clothes out of his duffel bag. He felt nearly human again after the eternal night, a hot shower having washed away the stale beer and sweat and cigarette stink that had clung to him. He still needed sleep, but at least he didn’t feel disgusting.
A second later the door opened and Amy slipped inside, shutting the door quickly behind her. “Nobody saw me.”
The towel barely contained her. Amy’s blond hair hung past her shoulders, a tight bundle from wringing it out. The smell of wet, freshly shampooed girl made things stir beneath Allen’s own towel. He turned away, his cheeks going pink.
“We can’t stay long,” Amy said. “They’ll think to look here sooner or later.” She tossed her pink outfit onto the floor underneath the bunk bed. “And I’ll need some clothes.”
“I’m not sure what I have that will fit you,” he replied, spilling the contents of the duffel onto the top bunk and sorting through the wrinkled, hastily packed clothing.
“We’ll make it work.” She stood right next to him and began to pick through the clothes.
Her bare shoulder brushed against his chest. It was so warm and soft that Allen thought he might faint. He moved away from her before he embarrassed himself. This was no time to be thinking of her tan skin and her red lips and how easily that towel could fall to the floor, revealing her ripe-
Stop it. Think of baseball.
Allen knew nothing of baseball.
Then think of Emily Brontë.
Somehow that was worse.
“I like that.” Amy pointed at his chest.
Really? Allen had never considered himself a spectacular physical specimen. His chest was flat and hairless. He was, overall, a skinny, pale, and nerdy individual. Maybe Amy liked that sort of thing. Maybe she was a Ben Folds fan.