Hardigan was looking at his boss with unbounded admiration. There was just something about the man that made him proud to serve. Maybe it was the mask that had inspired so mush fear and loyalty. Hardigan didn’t know, really, but he would follow where ever Ayres led, even at the cost of his own life. The other henchman had already met that fate, though. Hardigan vowed within himself to make sure that he would not meet the same end.
Jeremiah looked at Radcliffe at that moment, stunned at what he had just heard. Then he started thinking about what the artifact could do. Then he started getting angry at Radcliffe for not sharing all the necessary information with him. This was about the limit of things he could take today. Rivulets of blood were streaming down his good trousers, some unknown potion was infecting him, and now all hope was lost for the world as this mad man would destroy and enslave all of humanity. He felt sick.
Jeremiah took this moment to sit and try to pick the pieces of glass out of himself. That, he thought would at least be something to do while waiting for Ayres to figure out how to end them. Also, in the short term it might make him feel better. He pulled his pocket inside out and noticed a label stuck to his finger as he did so. The label read ‘ταχύτητα’. More Greek. Jeremiah had a feeling that everything in this place had a Greek label or tradition attached to it.
Hardigan noticed Jeremiah at this point and uttered a harsh bark. Jeremiah’s annoyance at the henchman showed in the sneer that painted his face.
“What are you doing there, pretty boy,” Hardigan asked.
Jeremiah winced and felt revulsion creep through him at the idea of being called pretty by this man.
“I’m trying to render myself some rudimentary first aid. I had something glass in my pocket when I fell. If you don’t mind, I’ll be down here trying not to die of blood loss,” Jeremiah said.
“You’re hurt? Here, take this,” Hardigan offered, “Rules are rules, and they always apply, even if we win.”
Hardigan tossed Jeremiah a first aid kit that contained many devices that weren’t from the current time period. He only recognized a few things that would help in his current predicament. One of them was a pair of tweezers. The others were a bottle of iodine and gauze.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Radcliffe moaned, “you cheated to get here. The committee will hear of this.”
Ayres looked at Radcliffe over his shiny new bauble.
“The committee will be eradicated. Your grievances will be unheard,” Ayres said, “You are just going to have to deal with that. There are a great many changes coming to this world as soon as I can get the mirror to start working.”
Radcliffe snorted, “So, after killing one of your own men and wounding my associate, you’re confounded by how the thing actually works? I’m surprised. Usually you’re the first one to have the answer. It’s what has made our working relationship so exciting.”
Ayres waved off Radcliffe’s remark and slipped the gun to Hardigan. The henchman took it and looked at Jeremiah with something that Jeremiah did not recognize, but made him want to ignore it. Once more, he set to work removing glass from himself. Within moments, most of the pieces now lay on the floor. Now there was the difficult matter of how to remove the smaller pieces of glass from his body. Jeremiah decided that there was nothing to do but remove his trousers. They were all men there, regardless of how icky the gun wielding thug was making him feel. He noticed that Hardigan was taking a special interest in this disrobing.
“Mister Radcliffe,” Jeremiah said, “ask him not to look at me like that.”
“He’s holding a gun, Jeremiah, there’s not much room for bargaining on my end.”
Jeremiah saw Radcliffe’s point without any further need of discussion. Using the tweezers he was able to get most of the smaller pieces without too much trouble. Then he opened the bottle of iodine.
“You’d better let me do that for you, Jeremiah.”
Radcliffe set to work coating the young man’s wounds in iodine. Jeremiah cried out as it worked its way into him, knowing that the sting was meant to protect him from infection, but not quite being able to help it. Radcliffe bandaged him quickly and Jeremiah felt a new throbbing coming from his leg and working its way up into his head then into his ears. His head was splitting from the worst headache he’d ever had in his life.
Radcliffe was whispering something to him, but he couldn’t make it out over the throbbing in his own ears. Ayres seemed to take no interest in what the two adventurers were doing at the moment as he was trying to decipher a bit of script engraved into the back of the mirror. Jeremiah tried to clear his head. He shook it and now some clarity emerged from the din.
“What, Mr. Radcliffe? I’m afraid it has been quite difficult to concentrate with all of this construction taking place behind my eyelids.”
Radcliffe took a deep breath and attempted to remain calm. He took the younger man’s shoulders in his big hands and looked Jeremiah straight in the eye.
“I don’t have time to explain. Just listen to me.”
Jeremiah faded for a span of ten-seconds just then. Radcliffe hoped he could wake up the boy long enough to put his plan into action. He spied smelling salts in the first aid kit and opened the bottle under his nose. Jeremiah coughed as his eyelids shot up and blinked a message of wakefulness.
“Jeremiah, we’re in a tight spot,” Radcliffe continued, “when I give the word, I want you to provide a distraction. I’ll use the device Dr. Godfrey gave me to get the drop on them.”
Jeremiah seethed with anger. Just like Mr. Radcliffe to put him in danger while he ran off to play the hero. He attempted to make a step sideways and was greeted with a sharp pain in his leg. There was definitely a grinding feel coming from within there. Jeremiah wondered if would ever walk without a limp again. From behind him he felt a small push from Radcliffe.
“Go,” Radcliffe urged. Something sounded slowed about Radcliffe’s speech. Jeremiah looked back and the older man seemed to be reaching for something within his coat, but he was certainly taking his time. It seemed to take him a minute to move his hand. Radcliffe must have been very nervous about the act he was about to commit himself to.
Jeremiah, wincing in pain with every step, walked forward toward Ayres and the henchman with no plan in mind. All that he had going for him was rage and pain that felt like a tangible part of himself. It was nebulous and contained within the pit of his stomach, but it felt more real than anything he had ever felt in his life. His very short life, if he could think of nothing more threatening than limping toward two men who meant to do him and the world very much harm indeed, if left unchecked.
Hardigan waved the gun shakily at Jeremiah. The slow movements of the weapon were almost mesmerizing and Jeremiah stopped for a moment where he stood. He gathered himself and took a long deep breath. This would have to do for now. One way or another he would provide this distraction.
“Not another step if you please. I wouldn’t want to use this on a fine young man such as yourself. I can’t believe your father can’t think of better uses for his career than putting you in certain danger all of the time.”
“Oh, he’s not my Father. He has just been looking after me for most of my life.”
Ayres’ ears perked up a little. This was something he could exploit to his advantage. Perhaps the boy had some inside knowledge that would make deciphering the script on the mirror easier.
“Ah, no Father? What a shame that is. Still, a boy does need a strong male influence in his life or he’ll never amount to anything. I say if a boy does not have that then he might as well be a girl. Forgive me. I think my loneliness gets the better of me sometimes.”
Ayres almost chuckled saying this. It was one thing to lie to get what one wanted, but making up fantasies out of whole cloth amused him. Of course playing with the emotions of people made Ayres’ heart almost warm.
“Mister Radcliffe is good to me. We were going to go try to find my Father after we finished with this adventure, but that’s looking like it won’t happen now, with you becoming some sort of god and all.”
“Jeremiah, you wound me,” Ayres said, “What did you think was going to happen after I acquire my power? Did you think I would just destroy you and Reginald? Do you really think I wouldn’t allow you to live your lives and let bygones be?”
“Frankly, sir,” Jeremiah said, “that’s exactly what I thought. It’s not too easy to go looking to find someone when you’ve been scattered to the winds by someone who’s got it in for you.”
Ayres slumped his shoulders and breathed a heavy sigh. He turned away from Jeremiah and put the mirror down on the stone pew. Jeremiah looked at the mirror. It was his only chance. If he could get there, he would have a place at the bargaining table. He would be able to make the thug give up the gun. All of this took place in his mind before Ayres had lost contact with the mirror.
Ayres turned back to Jeremiah and spoke the words that stopped him before he could dream up a way to disarm the henchman.
“Jeremiah,” Ayres said, “I can’t believe Radcliffe never told you this. I am your father.”
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