H2G2 Storytime III: From Prussia with Love. Part XLVI
Created | Updated Aug 14, 2006
Jamila took Ody by the arm "I have a bad feeling about this." she said.
They'd just come across the unconscious bodies of The Cult guards outside of the cathedral.
"What are people doing down here? I thought...I thought we were the first." she said.
"I don't know." he said looking carefully at their ornamental armour. "Maybe it's this Cult thing." Ody said half-attentively, his eyes were now trying to focus on the far side of the cathedral which he could glimpse through the half-open doors.
"In that case I definately don't like it." She said looking around.
Ody dropped to his knees and examined the dirt. "Footprints. Recent. A group."
"Where is X and the other one?" she said looking bck down the path wherethey had entered anxiously.
"Shhh." Ody hissed pressing her back against the rough wall. "I think there are people in there."
"but I!"
"Shh! Wait here."
He set off at a creep and ducked inside the open door. The temperature here was different, a sort of tingly humidity that stung the eyes like standing over a pot of simmering vinegar. Ody glanced at the water which had a silvering quality to it's undulations. He took a small stone from the floor and tossed it in where it quickly sank and fizzled as the acid ate away at the surface.
"Wonderful" he muttered quietly. "Pilchards AND Acid. I need to find a nice quiet desk job with semster breaks, staffroom tea, marks schemes, overdue library books, students... yes students....." his litany of mild complaints became a personal homily for home which he continued to recite as he stepped out across the bridge that took him over the pool of acid toward the colluns of the facade opposite.
From behind the collumns someone watched his careful advance.
"All alone?" Daltmooreby the schemer stroked his chin thoughtfully. "The fates are kind indeed."
"Sean?" Mary prodded him quizically.
"Go on ahead. I'll be along in a few minutes. This is personal."
"Don't be long. We are almost home." she warned him.
"This won't take long." Daltmooreby said, drawing his pistol.
There was a soft 'ptut', and a bullet chipped the narrow stonework of the bridge inches from Ody's foot. He jerked, swayed backwards, lost his balance...and a dark figure plunged from the clouds of acid vapour ahead to grasp his flailing arm, steadying him.
"You're okay, Junior. Plant your feet. Right."
Daltmooreby stepped backwards gingerly, the silenced pistol in his gloved hands.
"Now, don't do anything silly."
Ody glowered.
"How long has it been been...what? Ten years? Twelve?"
Ody made no reply. Daltmooreby shifted his weight slightly, the stones gritty beneath his feet.
"I seem to recall you hitting me with that the other day."
"You've...you've become a fine man, son. I have to say, first off, that I regret some of the things I said last time..."
Daltmooreby's eyes flickered over his son's features, finding no hint of emotion.
"Look, I realise this is an unusual venue for a family reunion, but you could at least say something..."
Ody looked his father up and down, and said: "You've put on weight."
Daltmooreby scowled. "Nothing else you want to say to your long-absent father? We were close once, Junior. Nothing else?"
"Are you still an alcoholic?"
"Dammit, Junior..."
"Are you going to shoot me? Because if you are, I'd rather you did it now than have to continue this little heart-to-heart."
Daltmooreby thumbed the safety catch on.
"I just want to talk, Junior. Just to talk. These people you're working with, there are things you need to know about them..."
Ody actually laughed. "You missed my teenage years, so only now do you get the opportunity to warn me about the 'wrong crowd'. Speaking of dubious friends, how is the psychotic Russian? How is the nun assassin? How - "
"You blame me for your mother's death."
This hit Ody like a physical blow. He swayed backwards again, then advanced a threatening step, finger upraised.
"You don't get to mention her! It was your lousy business that got her killed..."
"But I didn't kill her, Junior. Listen to me, I didn't kill her."
Daltmooreby inched towards his shaking son, arms held out at either side. He twirled the pistol in his hand and held it out.
"Arthur Robinson did."
Raising his head, Ody looked at his father with burning eyes. He snatched the pistol, and levelled it at Daltmooreby's head.
At the back of Daltmooreby's head - the old spy had turned around and was walking back towards the temple.
"Stop!" screamed Ody. "Damn you, you think you can trick me that easily? Stop!"
"Shoot me," suggested Daltmooreby, not looking round. "Complete the whole bloody Freudian mess. But you'll never know the truth."
He paused, then added: "I love you, son."
Ody kept the pistol levelled at his father's head until he vanished back into the acid mist.
Then he stood still for a while, staring vacantly at the churning depths below the bridge.
At the inner portal, Mary was waiting.
"I'm sure that was all very touching. Where's your gun?"
Daltmooreby stalked past her, his expression unreadable.
"At this moment? I would say it's shooting Arthur Robinson."
"Arthur! Here he is!" said X. "Doctor Daltmooreby! Did you see them pass this way?"
He stepped gratefully off the narrow bridge and stretched his legs. Ody was seated on the steps of the underground temple, a tiny figure beneath the great pillars of the facade. His hands dangled between his knees, and his head was bowed.
X plopped down next to him and sighed, clipping the canteen from his belt. He took a greedy swig, and offered it to Ody.
There was no response.
X frowned, then nodded appreciatively. "Moody, eh? Place gets to you, doesn't it? I know the feeling. All the weight of generations pressing down on you."
This elicited a small chuckle from Ody.
Arthur stepped off the bridge and scanned the temple with expert eyes.
"They passed this way, then? Why aren't you in pursuit?"
X waved a weary hand.
"Government employees, Arthur. We're entitled to a tea-break at intervals not to exceed four and one-half hours. Haven't you read your union handbook...?"
In a sudden burst of movement, Ody surged to his feet and advanced on Arthur, tugging the silenced pistol from his belt. He grabbed Arthur's collar before the Agent could register the threat and shoved him backwards so that Arthur ended up dangling over the acid-pool, a pistol shoved under his chin.
"Steady on!" cried X, rising to his feet.
Arthur waved him down cautiously, a terrible suspicion rising.
"Ody...have you seen your father?"
The archaeologist's face contorted, inches away from Arthur's. He shook the Agent slightly and hissed: "Just tell me that it isn't true."
Arthur said nothing. His eyes were brimming with stale guilt.
Ody made a tiny whistling noise in the back of his throat, and pleaded: "Tell me that it isn't true, and we can carry on like before, and we can stop these people. Tell me you didn't kill her."
Arthur's voice was quiet and hoarse.
"I can't."
This statement was followed by one of the longest moments in recorded history.
Ody released Arthur and stepped backwards, his face rigid and terrible. If anyone had had the nerve to mention it, he looked more like his father than ever before. He lowered the pistol.
"This..." he began, then he choked. He bowed his head for a moment, then spoke again. "This whole deal is too big for me to...allow personal feelings to get in the way. We'll fight the Cult, Agent Robinson, and we'll beat them together. And when they're done..."
He slipped the pistol back into his belt and held out a hand to Arthur, eyes full of hate.
"When they're done, I'll kill you."
Arthur looked at the archaeologist and saw Nemesis - the sins of his past were returned, inevitable and inexorable. The shadowy silhouette of Yelena Daltmooreby dropped before his eyes again. The little boy tugged his father's sleeve.
He was calling out for Anna, and then falling...
In some tiny, detached corner of his brain, X noticed that Arthur, for the first time, looked his age.
Arthur stepped forward and took ther younger Daltmooreby's hand. His voice was low and decided as he replied to Ody:
"When they're done, I'll let you."
The group approached a large area full of crates and boxes marked "Alpha Complex" in branded markings.
Two guards, dressed in some semi-ornate robbing stepped forward.
"The Grand Master bids you welcome home." The First Guard said.
"Do you have The Turqoise Moon?" the second enquired.
"Sreka." Mary asked sweetly.
The Big Russian stepped forward.
Von Trapp observed "The Grand Master was not aware of our mission - he believed the Monk Rasputin would triumph."
There were a series of snapping breaking noises in responce
Von Trapp continued. "We are the back-up plan."
The last guard slumped to the floor. Sreka dusted his hands and made his way back to Mary who stood with hands on hips studying their transportation amid discarded crates.
"Clear?" she asked with her back to him.
"Da," Sreka answered. Mary's head turned when Vandeveer and Daltmooreby appeared from the corridors they'd searched. When they both saw Mary they nodded all-clear aswell.
"I suggest we move," insisted Daltmooreby to their leader.
Mary considered him for a moment. "I thought you had that problem sorted." she said suspiciously.
"True, but never trust a corpse you haven't met." The spy looked at Sreka who glared. "The boy is... emotional and Robinson is still a trained Agent regardless of the injuries as is the other one. Either way if it isn't them there could be more of the Grand Master's entourage - we'll have someone following us eventually. Agents don't care who they hurt and the boy..."
The spy looked pained for just a second, enough for Mary to tighten her eyes. "...What he lost has hardened him for life. He'll still want me."
"The best strategy," said Von Trapp "is if we simply put ourselves ahead."
"They've been tracking us for some time. They will catch up again, however many." Warned Vandeveer. "Although, they slipped past Tonnajob so he will be moving in on-"
"--Assume he's dead." Mary looked at Vandeveer. "I hope you didn't get attached, Reto."
The crime-boss tightened at the insult.
"Von Trapp, Daltmooreby - over here." Mary beckoned them further on between the crates, "See that all the articles are loaded...and Sean I want you..."
Sreka turned to follow them as the conversation dropped out of earshot.
"Andrei, wait." Vandeveer said, "About what we discussed."
"Da." Sreak said. "I will do it."
"Then your debt to me will be repaid."
"Andrei!" Mary cried back to the pair. "Follow!"
"See how she keeps you on a short leesh?" Vandeveer "I, meanwhile ask only for respect."
Sreka said nothing but nodded sadly and then followed Mary and Von Trapp down the lined crates.
Vandeveer cast a glance over his shoulder at the steps leading back to The Abbot's Room and then hurried after them.
The two archeologists came together and walked ahead. As Arthur went to walk past his colleague, X grabbed his arm.
"What was that about Arthur?"
"It...it's comlicated X."
"This can't get in the way, Arthur," X whispered. "He really does want you dead."
Arthur gave a tired smile. "I know." That worried X although he wouldn't admit it aloud. "And those two can look after themselves,and they know when to stay back when this gets too rough."
"It already IS rough, Arthur. We just had an ex Agent try to unleash his son onto you. He could have been a plant! He might still be. How do we know this isn't all an eloborate trick to take us down?"
Arthur looked at the archeologists who now stood impatiently waiting. "No. It's not. He needs to know why Daltmooreby let her die. He needs closure."
"Who?"
"His mother. I shot her. It was a mission to eliminate a spy. It was Berlin, rememeber?"
"Oh god." X said clasping hand to his forehead.
Arthur looked at his partner with sympathy, "Come on they're waiting."
When he turned to go, X held him back and stared. Deadly serious. "I won't let him kill you, Arthur. I won't." His partner nodded. "And I think he's scared of fish."
Arthur smiled lightly Up ahead, Ody and Jamila were approaching the large doors and began were pushing apart. Arthur and X followed them inside.
"Too much turqouise," commented X.
The Abbot's cell was large and round. Blue-green curtains clung to the walls with various marble or glass decorations. Unlike the rest of the city it was without sand. It was part of another time. Above a four poster bed was cursive letters gently telling the sleeper that 'The Moon Will Bleed For You'.
Walking over to a polished desk, Arthur ran his hand over the surface. No dust. Ody and Jamila was discussing a mosiac found under a carpet they had lifted. There was a large oil painting on the wall and an inscrption underneath read Professor James Moriarty.
Arthur eyed about the room and ceiling. "Now we just need to find the other door."
Arthur's eyes were scissor sharp, narrowed and cool. He turned his head slowly, allowing his gaze and attention to rest lightly on every object before him, and then move on; continually scanning for the next clue.
There was the desk, with a gas lamp and a long bulb and the flame inside which flickered and danced behind the glass.
There was the book-rack, loaded with dark-coloured leather bound volumes of Cult Lore; there were etched in gold wrtiting on the spines authors of signifcance Arthur had never heard of.
There was the Orrery1*, the light from the lamp on the globe in the centre made the sun at the centre flicker the dark made the Earth appear dull and dark.
The Wood pannelling and reinfement in the wall furnishing betrayed the Victorian style of the decor; Were the walls hollow?
The Bed. fine linens lay undisturbed.
The Wall lamps. One of them was unlit.
"X try turning that nozzle on the lamp."
X walked over and as he undid the wheel; a hiss of gas escaped. Arthur took a taper from a jar on the desk and pressed it into the gas lamp on the desk where it ignited, he held it out to X who used it to light the gas lamp with a small "fumphh!"
The extra light brought more of the detail of the room, picking out the refinery on the Orrery.
It caught Arthurs eye immediately. He left X and walked over to the small stand on which it sotod and knelt down to get a closer look. What Arthur had mistook for brass was in fact gold. Setting out the horroscope set, into the dark wooden sides, were more gold panels engraved with symbols. The top was a series of concentric circles enscribed with small marks and measures like a child's ruler bent into a clear circle.
From the centre several cogs of varying dimensions sat locked together stacked upward like an unfinished game of Jenga, and from these radiating outward were a series of metal arms; crude right angles which reminded Arthur of coat-hangers bent out of shape. Sat at top each of these arms, cut from precious stones were the planets. Only the one had a moon and that was the Earth, a blue sapphire orbitted by a pearl.
"This is it." said Arthur catching his breath. He reached out and turned the small handle at the side. The precious stones whirred away dancing a merry jig as the arms manouvered them around the central sphere of The Sun. The pearl hovvered around the sapphire with the quirky movement of a gnat fly persistantly buzzing the jewel.
There was a sound of a bolt sliding back and forth.
Arthur stopped.
"X read that clue out again."
"What clue?"
"The one above the bed. Read it."
"The Moon Will Bleed For You." X said staring straight up at the ceiling.
"Could it be that simple?" Arthur said. biting his lower lip. He wound the handles backwards and the planets retreated to the same mad spiral, bringing the Sun,The Earth and The Moon into alignment.
"Lunar eclipse" Said Arthur and sure enough, he heard the bolt unlock somewhere in the walls and this time it stayed unlocked.
"It's this way said X following the noise. He stood in front of the bookcase - and pushed.
The bookcase swung inwards with little effort, revealing a staircase into a gloomy cavern.
There was a wooshing noise like Steam being forced out of a piston.
"What was that?" said Ody standing up.
Arthur looked at him. Ohio Daltmooreby looked back at him, the anger in his eyes not diminished.
"I don't know." Arthur said but were going that way "Follow if you must."
"Be careful Arthur." X mumbled out of concern. "Sreka might be down there."
"I'm counting on it." said Arthur grimly, stepping through.
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