Why was he here?

Strange conversations

The strangest conversation I've ever had was in a Krispy Kreme drive through.
A little back story. The lady working inside had previously worked with me at a different location.
Lady: Hey Jason.
Me: Oh, hi! How are you?
Lady: I'm good. Did you hear Charlene killed herself in  prison?
At this point the car behind me started honking and I had to go. I never saw her again. I have no idea why Charlene was in prison. We used to hang out and go have drinks after work and almost five years after the last time I saw her, she is dead at her own hands in prison for a crime I can't even imagine. My devastation at this news I heard third hand is miniscule compared to the suffering her family felt.
There is no editorial for this. It just popped into my head because I heard a song that had the same be as her daughter. Every time I hear it I both wish I knew more and that whatever happened hadn't.

God, sometimes you just don't come through.

 
   When I look back, I'm not sure I ever believed in any sort of god.
   That might look a little bleak to some of you, but let me elaborate a little. There were times when I've thought god was real, sure, but belief requires faith. Faith is a thing I've never felt a capacity for within myself.
  Which is not to say I didn't want to believe. I truly did. I've tried to have faith, but I can believe two impossible things before breakfast and still find god beyond credulity.
  I guess it's helpful sometimes to ask yourself if god shaped holes actually exist within ourselves. Also, what shape, exactly, is god?  I think if such an aperture exists, it must be very small and more dependent on Maslow than messiah.
 I've always thought religion to be the most personal thing about a person, and, if asked, I will just say Buddhist because most people don't know that it requires no faith, nor does Buddhism really require anything of you in the way of dogma or proselytizing. They are a fairly chill bunch and I thank them for that.
  I don't care about peoples' religion. I do care about how they treat the people around them. I don't care if you honor the sabbath on Sunday or Saturday or Friday, but for the love of all that is good, don't jump Bill Nye because he's trying to tell you the truth. Bill Nye is awesome. Seriously.

Notes on a Disappearance

Excerpt from the Boston Globe January, 26 1874 Society Page:
Radcliffe - Fontescue Nuptials postponed indefinitely. The event, scheduled upon successful return of Adventurer Reginald Radcliffe, to Penelope Fontescue has been postponed. Commodore Gerald Fontescue regrets to announce that Radcliffe has not yet returned and his whereabouts remain unknown. Radcliffe disappeared on assignment last week along with an entire squad of Coalition soldiers and his young ward, Jeremiah Rickets.
Search parties have not found any sign of them and abduction has not been ruled out. The Globe will update this story as further details develop.

From the correspondence of Doctor Henry Glass and Gianni Herbert:
Gianni,
I hope that this note finds you well. We are all hoping that you will come to visit us at the Monmouth lab soon. We have been doing amazing things with slow-time and short term time reversal. I know your interests lie more in theoretical work, but I have a few things I could show you that would leave you breathless.
My staff have been on edge about security, lately. It seems as if we might have an impostor with us. Stevens is the most likely suspect. I’ve discovered some discrepancies in his resume that he will have to resolve.
I’m afraid that I do not have any news regarding Reginald, as of yet. The Council keeps denying me access to the scene, and I have yet to find a good reason for them to do so. I’m afraid I will have to take matters into my own hands here, Council’s blessing or no.
I have filed another appeal. If they do not respond favorably I shall pack up my equipment and attempt to find him myself. Do not try to dissuade me. I must know. They have a week to decide. There is no shortage of adventuring spirit in the Glass line. They will discover that soon enough.
I wish I could write you under more pleasant circumstances, but life is what happens when we make other plans as someone wiser in the ways of philosophy once said.
I am afraid I must cut this short as I have promised to escort Lady Dunham to Chatham today. I do hope you will visit us here before the week is up.
Your friend,
Henry

Henry,
It is fortuitous that your letter arrived here today, as I have business in Monmouth in a few days. I hope that your trip to Chatham was pleasant. I know that Lady Dunham has wanted to go for some time now.
As to Reginald; I know you don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to say it. I don’t want you to get your hopes too high. There’s a very good chance that he is dead. The report I read this morning mentions that Delta’s airship had crashed thirty miles from the operational area. Someone activated the self destruct and only one whirly was missing. There was no further information.
Do me a favor and erase this as soon as you read it. My source only told me to get you to let up on the council. This is serious, Henry. There’s no legal obligation, naturally, but having an entire competition go missing is a huge public nightmare for them. They would rather this resolve itself, or have everyone forget. To that end they will probably approve your request. If they do, I’m going with you. Maybe it will be like it was at Harvard. We’ll stumble on the answer and everyone will call us geniuses.
I do hope that Old Reg is safe. If he is, I know we can find him.
Gianni

P.S. Have you sorted your little security problem?

Internal Council MEMO: Department of Artifacts and Recovery:

RE: MARCURIO’S MIRROR PROJECT - CURRENT STATUS
CC: ALL WITH LEVEL 3 AND ABOVE SECURITY CLEARANCE
PRINCIPLES ARE STILL MISSING.
AS WE HAVE ALREADY SENT THREE SEARCH TEAMS TO FIND THEM, AND THE DEADLINE IS COMING UP FOR THE COMPLETION OF ACTIVITIES, BE ADVISED THAT THE COUNCIL IS PREPARED TO WRITE OFF EXPENSES FOR ANY AND ALL EXPEDITIONS TO RECOVER. PLEASE REFER TO [REDACTED] FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS. [REDACTED]
SIGNED
[REDACTED]
Letter to Dr. Henry Glass January, 26 1874
Dr. Glass,
I must confess that I am the one who betrayed you. Stevens never would have done that. His resume on file is a forgery as I do not doubt you have discovered by now. I was the one who placed it there to throw you from my scent.
Ayres’ henchmen approached me with a briefcase full of gold. I did not ask where they got the money. I only asked what I needed to do. It seemed so harmless.
I’ve needed money for so long that I jumped at the chance to replace the inner workings of your Restore Button with useless wadding and a homing device. I had no idea that Radcliffe would not come back from his expedition due to my actions. I might still have done it, but I don’t feel good about it.
By the time you receive this, I will be gone. Do not try to find me. I am dead to the world and about to be reborn.
Your former employee,
James Conley
Entry from an Unsigned Journal found aboard a derelict schooner dated February 1, 1874:
It is up to me now. I’ve just received word that there is to be a civilian expedition to suss out what happened to Jeremiah and the rest. I should have never left him with Reginald, but there was too much at stake if he had stayed with me.
The mission is complete. It has been for six months. I just haven’t had the strength yet to face him. I can explain myself and take the consequences. I hope tha2t he can forgive me. I don’t know if I can forgive myself. What I’ve done so far has stained my conscience beyond all repair. I have ripped out and burned all journal entries relating to my unpleasant tasks. I should burn the whole thing, but habit forces me to keep writing as if to reassure myself of my humanity.
I’m going, if not just to find Jeremiah, but to put my mind to rest. Glass will have to deal with me tagging along, whether he wants to or not.
All pages leading up to this entry and after it, are burnt to ash.

To the Airship

The remote sailed into Hades, just missing the trigger switch, it bounced back toward Radcliffe just out of his reach. The alarm that shrieked from the collar was a loud staccato that dug into everyone in the chamber’s ear drums making the sound of grinding teeth sound pleasant in comparison. The LED started flashing a violent red. The countdown had started. If Ayres was not close the remote again in ten seconds, he could say goodbye to breathing.
Creech didn’t waste time. As soon as the remote landed, he punched Ayres in the gut and threw him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Creech took long strides toward Hades, praying that he would make it in time, cursing himself for having to save Ayres’ life. He also cursed Ayres because apparently he had lost control of his bladder.
He covered the distance with seconds left to spare. The alarm suddenly switched off. It gave the cavern an eerie silence that seemed worse, somehow. Creech set Ayres down and picked up the remote. Ayres’ churning gasps for breath replaced the deafening silence of the room.
Delta had stopped in their tracks. Their current tasks forgotten for a moment, replaced by spectacle. Creech’s gaze feel upon Dobson, who quickly remembered an appointment with a bookshelf on the other side of the chamber. The rest of Delta took his cue and set back to their work.
“Now, I hope that will be an adequate lesson to you. Mister Radcliffe, please retrieve the remote control. I don’t think that we’ll have any further feistiness from our friend here.”
Radcliffe pushed himself up from the floor. This was turning out to be not so good a day for remaining upright. He walked to where the device landed and plucked it up daintily.
Cappy looked down at her shoes. Disappointment washed over her. She had not anticipated Radcliffe’s fumble, but it would have taken care of at least one problem. Of course it would have meant an investigation. That would just be disastrous for her career, but Ayres made her want to put that aside. His years of freedom were like a burr under her skin.
‘Creech is right, though. There’s only one thing to do. Get him to justice, put him on trial and let the courts decide his fate.’
“Mister Radcliffe, I hope we won’t see a repeat performance of this little melodrama. Creech, put the squad in formation. We’re about to say goodbye to this charming piece of hell.”
Creech saluted and then quickly brought his hand down. He set about the task of getting Ayres back on his feet. It did not make him feel good to have saved the man’s life, but there were other considerations. Regulations were there for a reason. Delta would be different without Cap. He wouldn’t let her risk a career over this scum.
“All right, you heard the captain! Finish your tasks and get in formation. Yarborough, come help Balmforth with this stretcher. Long, you’ll be helping to carry our friend in the antechamber. Move.”
Delta moved swiftly, without hesitation. They had already finished minutes ago, but they made themselves busy rooting through papers to make sure they’d not missed anything. Radcliffe’s show had proven somewhat distracting, however, and the members of Delta had a deep admiration of Cappy. There was no way that they would let her get in trouble over this.
Cappy walked briskly over to where Delta stood. She inspected them closely. They looked none the worse for their ordeal here, of course none of them were as personally involved as she was. She motioned for Creech to get them moving.
Delta marched, ready to get back to the airship. They collected Austen back into the fold, still moving. They gained the entrance and moved briskly past the pointing tree into the windswept clearing beyond.
Radcliffe walked in silence considering the fate of his ward. It would take him a while to recover, though he’d already showed signs of stirring. The boy’s body still moved in slightly in fast forward. It seemed that he had aged slightly. There was no way to tell how the potion had affected him or would continue to as the days wore on. He could only hope that the boy’s metabolism would run its course quickly, allowing Jeremiah to resume his former life.
Cap had been correct about Ayres staying close to him. The acrid odor of urine assaulted him every other step. Ayres bumped into him every tenth. Radcliffe didn’t think Ayres was trying to jostle the remote from him. He was being very careful to hold it gently. He did not want to repeat his fumble.
Delta assembled next to the whirlybird and waited while Pitts got it ready to fly. Pitts had been uneasy with the business in the cave, but getting back behind the flight yoke of his baby pushed all of that to the back burner. This was his element and he was of it. He flicked the power switch, checked his safeties, and looked at the fuel gauge. It read empty. That was impossible. He had coasted on updrafts most of the way down. There was no reason for an empty fuel tank. He had made sure they were fully equipped with it.
He unstrapped himself and opened the cockpit door. As he stepped onto the snow to get Creech’s attention he felt a sharp pain in his leg. He looked down to determine the cause of the pain. A colorful dart jutted out of his leg. He felt woozy. His arms were heavy. It took all of his energy to try to shout a warning.
“Amb—“
Creech did not see Pitts fall, but he did hear him just before the world erupted in flames. All at once he became part of Delta, not just the voice they heard when it was time for action, but the part of the will of the unit. They formed themselves into an outward facing circle surrounding the principals of the mission.
A circle of flame roared around them. Delta watched for movement. Only the flames moved, the wind whipped them higher blowing the caustic smoke into their faces. Long fell, hard on his face, a dart stuck out of his neck. Austen fell next, then Yarborough. Cappy felt the unity of the group evaporating as each squaddie fell.
“They’re in the trees! Shoot the trees!”
Delta concentrated their fire toward the treetops. They heard a thump on the other side of the fire wall. They fired two more volleys and another thump just before Balmforth fell. A full half of the squad was on the ground now. Creech felt himself start to panic. His stomach had lied to him, and now everyone was in danger. He had to salvage this somehow. He had to act or they would never leave this snow packed hill.
He motioned for the remaining three squad members to follow him across the depleted fire line. Cappy stayed behind to try to protect Radcliffe and the others. She eyed them nervously and then returned her attention to the perimeter.
Creech approached the fire and prepared himself. He set his weapon to kill and gestured to the others to do the same. The fire had died down considerably, making a much less formidable obstacle for them. They leapt over it easily meeting no resistance on the other side until a dart hit Sierra.
His finger spasmed on the trigger as he fell. The first charge fired almost straight up, but, as he got closer to the ground, he spasmed again and Dibson’s head evaporated. Pink mist showered Creech and Dobson.
Creech looked on in horror as Sierra’s weapon fell from his numb fingers. Dibson’s body fell, gushing blood into the hard packed snow. Dobson wailed. His best friend was dead, pieces of his skull ran down his face. His legs felt as substantial as water. He fell to his knees crying. His neck hurt as if he had been stung. He slapped at the area of irritation and drove the dart further into him. He looked toward Creech as if he could ask him to bring his friend back to life and fell in a heap on top of his dead friend.
Creech couldn’t help himself. If he was going down, he would take one of their attackers with him. He ran toward a tree that he thought might contain one of their attackers. He climbed it easily after he’d found the simple rope ladder leading up to a wooden platform. He sensed someone behind him. Creech whirled around just as a rifle butt connected with his temple.
Cappy was panicked. Delta Squad had fallen apart like a cheap shoe. Her anxiety was getting the better of her. She stalked toward Ayres. He had to have something to do with this. Antags  hated that they were almost always on the losing end of the competition. He must have set up this little ambush as an insurance policy. Radcliffe stood in her way.
“Get out of my way. If I have to go through you to get to him, I will. One of my men is dead now because of him. Maybe I can use him to get us out of this.”
“Captain, if you feel that would be the best way, I encourage you to do it. But I will retain control of this. I wouldn’t want your emotions to get the better of you.”
“Fine. Keep it. Just get out of my way.”
Radcliffe stepped aside so that Cappy could pull Ayres to the dwindling fire perimeter. She shoved him to the ground and looked out to the tree tops. Then, after taking a deep breath, she shouted.
“You want him? Here he is. Come and get him out of my sight. Don’t forget about this jewelry he’s wearing. I’m sure you’ll be able to get at least ten feet before you’re picking him out of your hair.”
A cold voice drifted back to her. It made her want to curl up into a ball and never stop. It was dispassionate. There was no reasoning with the person behind it.
“If we wanted just your prisoner, we would have taken him by now.”
It was the last thing she heard before a dart hit her in the chest. She looked to her right to find Radcliffe had been shot as well. The darts poured the tranquilizer into them with cold efficiency. Radcliffe flopped to the ground just before Cappy fell into darkness.

Extraction

Creech felt their bad situation getting worse the moment Balmforth removed Ayres’ mask. The look of shocked recognition on Cappy’s face made him terribly uneasy. He moved, but it was too late. Cappy had already slapped Ayres. This was not going to look good on the report. He could only hope that he could get the men and women of the squad to keep silent on this.
He moved as quickly as he could to try to insinuate himself between them. Cappy’s fingers clutched at the villain’s greatcoat as if they were woven into the fabric. Creech separated the two of them and walked Cappy into the corner.
“Stay here a moment. They need something to do. We need to talk.”
Cappy glared coldly in Ayres’ direction. She grunted assent and stood there against the wall. Creech’s stomach tensed. He willed himself not to vomit. He was sure that if his body tried, there would be nothing to vomit except for bile. The feeling passed.  Creech thanked his body for not betraying him this time. He walked over to where Delta stood and motioned for a huddle.
“I want Dobson, Yarborough, and Pitts searching for documents, look for anything that looks like a journal or grimoire. The boys back at base will want to have every single piece of information on this artifact available to them. Long, Dibson, and Sierra, I want you to get this mirror in containment, then look for a way to transport these potions. When you’ve got that done, I want you to help the others with the document search. If you find anything, and I mean anything, that seems strange get it into a containment bag. That is all. Get to it, people. I want to be sitting in my cabin by sundown.”
Delta spread out and moved through the chamber. They were efficient, which made Creech proud, but that would not leave a lot of time for him to talk with Cappy. Creech walked over to where he left her. He was not looking forward to this.
“Creech, I’m going to be okay.”
“Somehow, I don’t think I believe you. If it were anyone else, I would nod and say perfect. You, on the other hand, cannot fool me, Cap. You are shaking. You slapped a prisoner. This is not what I would call okay.”
“Creech.”
“No, don’t think that I’m not going to go through this with you. I know this can’t be easy to talk about. It makes me sick just to think that this sicko has been running amok all of these years.”
“You’re not the only one. I bet he thought he could just blend in. He thought I would forget him. How do you forget something like that?”
“Do I need to relieve you from duty?”
“No, that is not going to happen. We’re going to finish this. Just keep that thing away from me.”
“It’s not really up to you, Cap, but you’ve got nothing to worry about here. I saw how easy it would have been for you to deck him. The fact that you kept your composure says volumes about your professionalism. We’re going to press charges against him. You’re going to testify. In the end, he’ll be under the jail. Are we clear?”
“Yes, we’re clear. Get a collar on him.”
“I’m not a fan of that, Cap. We are already in dangerous territory here, already. We put an explosive collar on this guy and we’re just asking for him to be decapitated. Everyone is on edge here. The squad would be looking for a reason to press the button.”
“Give it to Radcliffe. He’s not emotionally invested. This is just his job. He won’t do it unless he has to. He can’t get away, Creech. I won’t let him.”
“That’s better. I’ll call him over so we can discuss this. Mister Radcliffe, we need you for a moment.”
Radcliffe looked up from Jeremiah to see Creech motioning him over. He stood and straightened himself. He walked over and folded his arms. He had no reference for dealing with someone who had been attacked so intimately.
“Radcliffe, we’re going to ask something of you that is not exactly in protocol. We’re going to put a collar on Ayres. We want you to have control of the remote.”
“Why would you want me to do that? I know that he’s… I don’t know how to react to what he did to you. I just don’t know why you would task me with this.”
“We need an insurance policy, some way to make sure that he has no chance of escape. We’ll decollar him as soon as we get him in a cell on the ship but, until then, all that stands between him and freedom is a set of regulation shackles. We’re asking you to carry the remote because you don’t have a personal grudge against him. I would ask one of my people, but I’m afraid the squad may be on edge. I’m sure you can understand why that would be the case. Will you do it?”
“Yes, I’ll carry the remote. I just hope I don’t have to use it.”
“Creech, give it to him. Mister Radcliffe, I want to thank you for doing this. It takes a lot off of my mind. We’ll have you home before you know it this will be all a distant memory.”
“I don’t want you to think any more of it, Captain. This is something I do as a matter of honor.”
Creech was feeling better about the situation. He took off his rucksack, placing it carefully on the ground. He opened the catch on the front and pulled out the collar box. Suddenly, an idea occurred to him.
“We don’t actually have to arm it. There’s a way to make it look armed, but the explosives stay inert. That way it won’t matter who carries the remote.”
“No, he needs to know definitively that if he tries to run he will be a dead man. I don’t want him to think that he has even the slightest chance of getting away. I want it armed. I want him to know it. Make sure he hears the mechanism spin up when you put it around his neck. Show him the remote and then walk over to the far corner near Hades over there. I want him to know exactly how long that leash extends.”
“Does he really have that much leeway?”
“No. He does not. You’ll hear it beeping. Slow at first, but it speeds up as you get further away from him. This is as much for your benefit as his. When the indicator light turns yellow, stand there. Then start walking back to him. He’ll stick closer to you than your cologne.”
Radcliffe took the remote and placed it in the pocket of his parka. Creech offered him the collar and Radcliffe hesitated before finally accepting it. He looked at the contraption in his hand and was amazed that such a small device could kill a man.
“Is it armed?”
“No, Creech is going to help you with that. Then you’ll do the demonstration. Do it quickly. Make your point. I see that some of our worker bees have almost finished their tasks.”
Radcliffe walked over to Ayres and showed him the collar. The cold look in his eyes gave away nothing. Radcliffe sighed heavily and moved to place the collar.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m putting this collar on you. It’s not an arguable option, I’m afraid. It’s either this collar, or… Well, I would not like to be you right now.”
“Radcliffe, you can’t be this stupid. That is my death warrant you’re putting on my neck. Who’s going to have the remote? Her? She would kill me just as sure as you’re standing there with that pitiable expression on your face.”
“No, she is not the one holding the remote. It has fallen to me to do it. Now, are you going to let me do it, or do I have to get Lieutenant Balmforth here to sedate you first? I’m sure that would be safe with your possible concussion. You might not wake up at all. Which do you prefer, Cornelius?”
Ayres looked at Balmforth. A needle full of what he assumed to be enough tranquilizer to knock out a wild gorilla perched menacingly in his hand. Radcliffe waited patiently for him to make a decision. Ayres spit his next words, hissing them, hating the feeling of them in his mouth.
“Put it on my neck, then you fool. Let my death today be on your hands.”
“No one has to die here today. No on deserves to die here, not even that toady you shot earlier. Now, I’m going to lock it. Is it comfortable? We wouldn’t want to provoke chafing.”
“I’m honored that you would consider my comfort after all of our adversarial encounters. I shall remember you in my will. It’s a little snug, but I can live with it.”
Radcliffe produced the remote from his pocket. The LED blinked a pleasant green that Ayres thought was in stark contrast to the large red button on the face. Creech leaned in to turn a secondary arming key on the collar. It was now fully armed.
Radcliffe made a show of walking toward the statue of Hades. Ayres tried to follow, but Creech held him back. The green light on the remote started blinking. An alarm sounded on the collar.
Radcliffe walked a few steps more. The LED started pulsing a deep aggressive amber. Ayres struggled against Creech’s grasp to no avail. He was going exactly nowhere. The beeping on the collar became a shrieking siren, louder in the cavern than even Cappy had anticipated. Radcliffe gave himself permission to look back at Ayres’ panicked face and smiled. Cappy was right. This demonstration was going to make sure that the rotter behaved himself better than a tranquilizer. Had he been looking where he was going, he could have avoided tripping over the remains of Jeremiah’s trousers, sending the remote flying towards Hades.

Denoument

As Delta shuffled seamlessly into the main chamber, Radcliffe considered what the scene there looked like to fresh eyes. There he stood holding a phaser beam pistol behind a chest high obstruction, while Ayres and Jeremiah lay prone on the floor below him. It looked bad.
“Let’s see your hands, Radcliffe,” Cappy said, “I don’t want to have to stun you if I don’t have to.”
Radcliffe complied without hesitation. He reached for the ceiling . One of the squaddies plucked the weapon gently from his hand. 
“Now, turn around. Do it slowly or else you’re going to find out how my stunner tastes.”
Radcliffe turned to face the person barking orders to find Cappy there. Her finger rested on the trigger of a pulse rifle.  She looked at him with some suspicion. Radcliffe remembered the first time they’d met. She was a person who did not mess around when it came to her job, but he knew that if he played it straight with her, there would be no complications.
“Creech, I want you to go see if Balmforth and Austen have their patient under control and then get them in here to see about these two.”
Creech moved as she was giving her orders. He gave a sharp salute and trotted back through the doorway. Balmforth was finishing placing bandages on Hardigan while Austen completed the paperwork. Hardigan moaned. A trace of blood dribbled from his mouth. Balmforth wiped the blood and turned to face Creech.
“How’s the patient?”
Balmforth checked the patient’s vitals on the portable bioscanner. Pulse registered normal. Blood pressure was stable. All other vitals checked out. He just worried about potential spinal trauma.
“We’ve got him immobile and ready for transport, Cap. I don’t think he’ll be walking any time soon, but he’ll live.”
“That’s good. I need you two to get in there and take a look at the Rickets and the Antag. They’re down and we don’t know why yet.”
“This is turning into a bad job, Creech. Every minute we’re here I feel like an icicle is running down my back. It’s not that cold in here, but it’s driving me crazy. I just want to get back to the ship.”
“I know how you feel, but this shouldn’t take long. I think Cappy’s already debriefing Radcliffe. We get the mirror into the containment vessel and boom, out we go. Austen, keep an eye on this guy. We’ll be out of here before you know it.”
“I hope so, Creech. Let’s go see about our other patients.”
Balmforth shrugged his rucksack back on and followed Creech into the main chamber. Cappy had lowered her weapon, and was sitting next to Radcliffe on a low stone pew. His head was lowered on to his hands as he related the events leading up to Delta’s entrance.
Balmforth set to work visually scanning his patients in order to make an assessment of their wounds. He pulled the other bioscanner from his sack and attached leads to the patients. Ayres checked out normal aside from the goose egg on the side of his head. There was nothing wrong with him except for a possible concussion.
Jeremiah’s readings, however, both shocked and alarmed him. The boy’s pulse was racing. His heart rate soared, as did his blood pressure. There was also the unsettling way that parts of the boy seemed to become insubstantial.
“What the hell happened here, Mister Radcliffe? This kid looks like he’s about to explode.”
Radcliffe ran over to the medic. What he saw there made him gasp. Jeremiah’s leg was phasing in and out of view. As the pulse spiked, the leg became less visible.
“I don’t know. He seemed to be walking with some pain earlier. Maybe something broke in his pocket.”
“Then I suggest you go looking for a cause. Maybe that will point us to a cure here.”
“Right. I am on the move. Hang on, Jeremiah. We’re going to get you through this thing.”
Radcliffe ran over to where Jeremiah’s pants lay on the ground. He snatched them up and found one of the pockets to be a little heavier. He shook the trousers and heard soft tinkling from within. He reached into them and pushed the pocket inside out so that his hand would not get cut. Glass pieces tinkled out on to the floor. Residue of a red substance clung to some of the shards. The intensity of the glow seemed to match Jeremiah’s shifts in tangibility. Radcliffe stopped pushing the pocket when he saw a small label stuck to the inner lining. The delicate lettering on the handwritten label said ‘ταχύτητα’. Radcliffe easily translated this as ‘speed’ from the Greek.
Potions were a dangerous proposition for most people. An adolescent who took potions was taking their own lives in their hands. Potions worked on what was already there and in a body wracked by hormones and emotions, it was a maelstrom. It would start slowly and then push them past the breaking point endlessly until it wore off or the victim was dead.
“I found the cause. He must have used this vial from over on the work bench to fool Ayres into thinking he had a gun. It must have broken inside his pocket when he fell. I’ll have a look at the potions over there. It could be that there’s an antidote there.”
Radcliffe ran over to the work area. It was a cacophony of glowing vials. The confusion of lights made it difficult for him to isolate the labels at first, but, very shortly, he found a vial labeled ‘ειρήνη’ or peace. It glowed a soothing blue color that pulsed softly in stark contrast to the frenetic pulsing of the red potion. Radcliffe took it over to where Jeremiah lay.
“This should do it.”
Radcliffe started to uncork the vial, but Balmforth stopped him. Radcliffe looked at the medic with incredulity. Why was this man stopping him from saving his sidekick’s life?
“Are you sure about this? All we know at this point is that this is a magical malady.”
“I’m sure. We need to counter the first potion. We’re only going to need a drop. Get his mouth open so I can pour a drop in there.”
“Okay, but only a drop at a time until he normalizes. I just hope you got the right one.”
Radcliffe nodded and removed the cork from the vial. Balmforth tilted Jeremiah’s head back and opened his mouth slightly. He tipped it gently, letting a drop fall on the boy’s tongue. It had a slight positive effect on the bioscanner. It beeped less intensively. Encouraged, he drizzled a little more. The boy’s vital signs stabilized as the potions fought for dominance.
“It looks like it’s working. He’s going to be okay. We’re lucky you know what you’re doing.”
“Yes, we were lucky. Let’s just hope we’re not too late.”
Jeremiah’s leg turned a light shade of purple and phased back into reality. His pulse beeped normally. His blood pressure came down.
Radcliffe allowed himself to breathe again. That was one part of their business in the wrapper. He turned his attention back to Cappy. The look of concern on her face quickly vanished when she noticed Radcliffe looking at her.
“Is he going to be all right, Balmforth?”
“As best as I can tell, yes. He’s going to pull through. His vitals are strong. He has no visible signs of trauma. I would recommend potion counseling once we get back to the city, but, overall, I can safely pronounce him to be healthy.”
“Good, just make sure he stays that way. Okay, let’s get Ayres in bracelets. I don’t want him trying anything if you can bring him around.”
“Surely there’s no need for potion counseling. This was clearly an accident. I’m sure once we bring him around he’ll never want a potion again.”
“We like to err on the side of safety, Mr. Radcliffe. We don’t know what sort of side effects are involved here. It could lead to addiction.”
“I suppose you’re right, but I think the way he’ll feel when he eventually wakes up is going to be an effective deterrent.”
One of Delta moved forward to where Ayres was lying prone and pulled a set of shackles from her rucksack. She set about the task of fitting them to the wrists and ankles of the man. Once this was accomplished, she stepped back into formation.
Balmforth turned his attention back to Ayres. Masked, that was usually a problem. Masked antags hated being unmasked, but he had no choice. There were only two stretchers and if Balmforth could get Ayres up and walking again he was going to do it. He pulled the mask from Ayres’ head gently, not really knowing what to expect under there. Under the mask, an unfamiliar face greeted him. Not unexpected, he’d only been in Delta a few months, but he heard a shocked gasp behind him coming from Cappy.
He pulled a vial of smelling salts from the medical bag and held them under the man’s nose. Ayres coughed. He opened his eyes again and groaned.
“My, we have company Radcliffe. Oh, and your brat wore himself out from the beating he gave me. Look at him napping. He’s like a little lamb that brutally beat up a lion.”
“That’s enough, Ayres. Had I the opportunity, I would have delivered that thrashing myself. You’re lucky he only gave you a goose egg for your trouble.”
“You. Do you remember me?”
Ayres looked at Cappy. He seemed to consider the question for a moment. He put his hand up to where the mask’s chin usually sat and found nothing. He groped for it blindly. The anger on his face was terrible.
“Where is it? Where is my face?”
“That is not important right now. What is important is that you answer my question quickly, before I lose my patience. Do you remember me?”
“Hmm, you don’t look like the type of girl with whom I usually associate myself. Can you refresh my memory?”
Cappy dragged Ayres to his feet. She smacked his face a dozen times with the flat of her hand. She pulled back as if to punch him and the remembered her troops were watching and put her hands in his greatcloak. She clutched it so tightly she didn’t think she would ever be able to let go again.
“Not your ‘type’? Is that what you say to all of the women you’ve raped?”