Read Journey Through the Mirrors Online
Authors: T. R. Williams
“Who are you?” Mr. Perrot asked. “Why have you brought us here?”
“Come now, Robert,” the man said. “I thought you enjoyed the challenge of a good riddle. Or has something changed since our last encounter? You remember. By the river . . .”
Mr. Perrot squinted, trying to get a better look. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”
The man stepped over to one of the large fire urns and picked up a torch that lay on the ground next to it. He placed one end into the urn, allowing it to catch fire. Then he walked over to the platform at the center of the chamber and stepped onto it. The taller man joined him there. The light from the torch cast an eerie orange glow on the man’s scarred face. But despite his disfigurement, Mr. Perrot recognized who it was.
“Simon,” he said, not believing his eyes. The man smiled crookedly. “It can’t be—I saw you fall—into the pyre.”
“How does that quotation go?” Simon thought for a moment. “ ‘The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated’ . . . or something like that. I was never a big fan of Mark Twain.”
“Why have you brought us here, Simon?” Mr. Perrot asked defiantly. “Have you not done enough damage?”
“Relax, Robert,” Simon said in a casual tone. “I’m not really that interested in you at the moment.” He turned his piercing dark eyes to Madu. “I’m more concerned with the man standing next to you. The one and only Madu Shata.”
“What do you want from him?” Mr. Perrot persisted. “Speak plainly.”
“Our friend here,” Simon said, gesturing at Madu, “sold the plans for an energy device to a couple of my colleagues. And as it turns out, the schematics are unfinished. At first, we thought that decrepit man was all we needed to complete the plans. But as you can see, his communication skills are somewhat lacking.” Simon gave Sumsari a good long stare before turning back to Madu. “That’s why we had to secure your support, too.”
Mr. Perrot looked aghast at Madu.
“I did no such thing,” Madu insisted, a confused look on his face. “I would never have sold away my life’s work to anyone. Especially not the likes of you!”
“Rashidi”—Simon motioned to the tall, dark-skinned man who accompanied him—“show our good friends what we are talking about.” Rashidi pulled out his PCD and used it to project the image of a pyramid surrounded by a series of elaborate mathematical equations. “Are these not your plans?” Simon asked. “Is this not the device that you have been secretly designing for the last many years?”
Madu recognized his work. “Where did you get these?” he shouted in anger.
Simon stepped off the platform and walked through the projected image, stopping just a few meters from Madu. “The wheres and hows are unimportant. What is important is that you fix your broken device.”
“It cannot be fixed,” Madu said. “My original plans were wrong.”
“Anything can be fixed,” Simon said, smiling and running a finger down the side of his scarred face. He pointed to a particular spot on the 3-D image that was marked
Activation Chamber
. “Now, I am told that this cylindrical thing hanging underneath the device is not working properly. You need to show us how to fully energize the pyramid.”
“I don’t know how,” Madu said. “It is what I have spent years trying to figure out.”
“But he knows, doesn’t he?” Simon glanced over at Sumsari, who
continued to scribble on the walls. “I was told that somewhere in the head of that miserable creature over there is the key to perfecting your design.”
“Who told you that?” Mr. Perrot asked.
“Once again, Robert,” Simon said, as he gave him a baleful look, “a truly unimportant question.”
Mr. Perrot shook his head. “And why should we help you?”
“Now, that is a much more interesting query.” Simon motioned to Rashidi. The projected image of Madu’s plans disappeared, and suddenly, Mr. Perrot and Madu both heard a beeping sound. The next thing they knew, intense pain shot through their entire bodies. They both grabbed their heads. “One reason to help me is that you will feel better if you do,” Simon said. The excruciating pain continued, and then it ceased when the beeping did. “Those devices on your heads are calibrated with the sensory centers of your brains. I was told they are quite effective, and judging by your reactions, I can see that I was not misled.”
Mr. Perrot and Madu recovered their composure.
“The energy pyramid is not a toy,” Madu said. “You must know that there is a point of no return. I would not attempt to build one without first solving all the equations.”
“I actually agree with you, but I fear it is too late,” Simon said. “A couple of my rather rash colleagues have already constructed one. It seems they’ve been trying to turn it on for some time now, without much success.”
“So it’s true,” Madu said, hearing his worst suspicions confirmed. “The unexplained earthquakes, the sickness, and the turmoil—it is all being caused by an energy device.”
“I’m afraid so,” Simon said. “But I am here to put an end to the world’s suffering. My colleagues have turned to me for help. If you were to assist me, we could end the world’s troubles and at the same time solve the current energy crisis. Everybody wins.”
“You are the only person who will win, Simon,” Mr. Perrot said.
“I will not help you,” Madu said.
Simon smiled. “I think you will.” Rashidi activated his PCD, and Mr. Perrot and Madu saw a holographic projection of Nadine. She was bound to a chair by silver straps, her mouth covered with tape and a neuro device attached to her right temple. “Your wife would be most appreciative if you completed your work.” Rashidi pulled out a PCD from his pocket. He manipulated it to project the current time. “If you don’t help, Rashidi here is going to send a signal to the neuro device attached to your wife’s head. Keep an eye on this clock, and know that at the top of each hour, your wife will be squirming in pain. You’ll find some tools in that bag we brought down here for him,” Simon said, with a gesture at Sumsari, “but it looks like he’s only interested in a piece of chalk. When you figure something out, call us on this PCD—it’s a one-way connection to a single HoloPad device.” Simon turned and walked away.
“What if I can’t?” Madu asked.
Simon stopped and turned. “It would be a shame to see such a beautiful woman suffer pain. Maybe I’ll be merciful and end it quickly for her.”
Mr. Perrot and Madu watched silently as Simon and his man left through a small doorway.
Simon poked his head back through the opening. “Robert,” he said. “I feel like you and I have done this before.”
Mr. Perrot and Madu could hear laughter until the stone door swung closed.
50
Uniqueness is not in the challenges that people face but in the way they deal with them.
—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA
SALISBURY, U.K., 11:49 A.M. LOCAL TIME, MARCH 26, 2070
“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Britney asked.
“Come on,” Anita said, adjusting the blue book bag slung over her shoulder. “I think they went this way.”
After Anita and Halima had made their discovery in the tunnel under the armory, Anita had called Britney and persuaded her to accompany her on an outing the next day. Anita had hated lying to her father, but he would have been upset if she’d told him she was going to search for the Altar of the Bluestones. She couldn’t get out of her mind the look of love and concern on his face when she’d told him she’d been asked by the head of the university’s chemistry department to fill in for a professor who was ill.
“But what about you, my dear?” her father had asked. “Are you sure you feel up to it? I don’t want you risking your health by overdoing it.”
“I feel fine,” she’d assured him. “Plus, this is a great opportunity for me, and I don’t want to pass it up.”
Her father had given her a kind look. “If it means that much to you, by all means go.”
Anita had hugged him with all her might before running out the door to meet Britney.
She had reasoned that if she were to find the Altar of the Bluestones, the best place to start would be to follow the path that the Quinns had set forth for Sumsari. She and Britney boarded a plane, which flew them a short distance from the Isle of Man to London, where they continued by high-speed rail to the historic city of Salisbury in southern England. The whole trip took just a few hours.
Upon arrival, the two girls spotted someone they did not expect to see. They followed stealthily and watched from across the street as an iron gate leading into the renowned Salisbury Cathedral was opened.
“What is Mr. Quinn doing in Salisbury?” Britney asked as she watched Sebastian enter with Bukya walking at his side. “And why did he go into the very place we’re going? Did you tell him anything?”
“No,” Anita replied. “I didn’t say a word to him. I didn’t even know he’d returned from his trip.”
The girls waited a few moments before making their way across the street and walking over to the iron gate. Anita tugged and set it rattling. “It’s locked.” She peered through the gate’s intricate latticework and down a walkway that led to the cathedral’s tall wooden side doors. “The doors look locked, too.”
“How did he get in?” Britney asked, gazing down the walkway.
“Someone must have already been inside and opened it for him,” Anita said. “Let’s try the main entrance. It’s just around the corner.”
“The cathedral is closed for ten more days,” a voice called out to them. “The restoration of the choir, presbytery, and chapter house are all under way.” A teenage boy dressed in blue work clothes approached them. A gardening rake was resting over his right shoulder, and a bulky set of keys was attached to his belt loop. His hands were dirty, and there was a smudge on his face. “They’ve moved the Magna Carta off
site for safekeeping, if that’s what you were aiming to see. The organ is also being restored, so there will be no concert this evening. You’ll have to come back in a few weeks.”
Anita froze, staring at the young man. She recognized him as the person who had been playing the organ in the vision she’d had while looking into the waterfall in the Arcis Chamber. He wore the same blue jumpsuit, and his hands were dirty, just as the organ player’s had been.
“Maybe you can let us in for a quick peek.” Britney jumped in, unsure why Anita had gone silent. She smiled and put her hand on the young man’s arm. “We’ve come an awful long way to see the cathedral.”
“Yes,” Anita said, following her friend’s lead. “We’ve journeyed all the way from the Isle of Man. We are writing a paper about the cathedral, and it’s due in less than a week. Plus, this might be your only chance to press the keys and pull the knobs of the organ.” The young man gave Anita an odd look. “I know you’ve always wanted to do that,” she added, smiling.
“How could you know . . . ?” The young man stopped himself and shook his head. “I still don’t think I can allow you in. The dean would be furious if he found out. Plus, I have a ton of work to finish around the grounds.”
“Just for a few minutes,” Britney persisted, squeezing the young man’s arm. “We only want to take a little peek inside.”
The young man took a quick look around. “I’m going to get into so much trouble.” He sighed, relenting. He tossed the rake to the ground and approached the iron gate. He searched through his ring of keys and used one to open it. Anita and Britney followed him inside. “I will meet you both back here in a half hour,” he said. “You have to leave then.”
Britney gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re a doll,” she said. “And if you’re ever on the Isle, I know this great castle we can show you.” Britney gave Anita a wink. The two girls walked through the doors.
“Remember, thirty minutes!” the young man said, closing the doors behind them.
Anita and Britney entered the southern side of Salisbury Cathedral. Many of the interior lights had been turned off because of the restoration work, but the magnificent stained-glass windows allowed in sufficient light for them to be able to appreciate the exquisite architecture.
“Amazing,” Britney said, pointing up at the vaulted and ribbed ceiling. Her voice echoed as she spoke.
“Hush.” Anita pressed her finger to her lips. “We’re not supposed to be in here, remember. We need to find where he went.”
Anita slowly walked across the stone floor. Britney followed her, awestruck by the multitude of statues lining the walls. Hanging above the lifelike sculptures of saints, dukes, and duchesses were paintings and icons from the early days of the church.
“It’s sort of spooky in here,” Britney whispered, reading the names of people that had been carved into the floor. “Are people really buried under these markers?”
“Yes,” Anita said. “But the more famous people are entombed in those chests along the walls.” Britney looked at the large stone sarcophagi with sculpted effigies on their lids. Some were simple, others far more elaborate. Anita pointed to one that seemed newer than the others. “The man and woman who are entombed in that one don’t deserve to be in here.”
“Why would you say such a thing?” Britney walked over to a large white marble sarcophagus with the faces of a man and a woman carved into its top. She read the names on the plaque affixed to its front, before turning back to Anita. “Charles Pottman, Steward of Gravely House, 2045, and Lady Guinevere Pottman, 2045. Who were they?” Anita didn’t answer, as she stared coldly at the stone crypt. “Were they involved in whatever happened to you before you came to the Isle?” Again, Britney waited for an answer, but none was forthcoming.
Anita turned toward the central aisle of the cathedral. “There’s the organ,” she said. “Just like in my vision.”
“Well, our gardener boyfriend did say they were restoring it.”
Anita and Britney made their way toward it. They passed more
crypts, more paintings, and what was believed to be the oldest working clock in the world, constructed in 1386. Anita heard the sound of voices. She grabbed Britney by the arm and quickly led her to the canon stalls at the center of the cathedral, stopping when they reached one of the massive central pillars. Anita peeked around it in the direction of the voices. She pulled back and whispered to Britney, “I see him. He’s standing at the other end of the nave talking with a few people.”