Chapter #42An Unlikely Alliance by: Seuzz   "It's our business too," Tsosie says, and you nod your head too.
"Fine," says Frank. "Joe, check it out."
One of the Joes trots onto the grounds. The other just grins with his hands in his pockets. "What is that thing," Tsosie asks.
"Girls are always accusing me of having four hands," Joe laughs. "How little they know! Ugh. It's as ugly on the inside as the out. Looks poisoned. 'Cept for that tree, and I don't like the looks of it." He lets out a low whistle. "He's got his own mausoleum." You cock your head, and then remember that "stone shed" you got a glimpse of yesterday.
"He's got a 'thing' in there guarding it," Tsosie says. "It's what killed the golem."
"That's why we're sending in the remote," Joe says. "I see it. Nasty looking fellow, and I'd hate to meet it on a moonless night, but it won't do anything."
"What's it look like?" you ask, and peer in through the gate.
"It doesn't look like anything," Joe says. "But try to imagine a mouth. And inside that mouth are a million other mouths, each bigger than the mouth that holds them. And inside each mouth are a million teeth, each tooth bigger than--"
"You can practice your powers of description later, Joe," Frank interrupts. "These guys don't need a picture of things that can't be drawn, and you've got other things to concentrate on."
"Well, I can't tell if anyone's home," Joe says. "There's too much interference. And we're going to have to be very polite when we knock on the door. Bah! I can't see anything else. Let's go."
Frank leads you and the others up the walk; Joe's double has vanished or is hiding someplace else. Unlike you and Gordon, Frank has no compunction about putting his finger in the wolf's mouth and ringing the doorbell.
It opens only a few inches. Blackwell scowls out, and his glance is murderous. "May I help you," he asks in a very pinched voice.
"May we come in, Professor Blackwell?" Frank asks with a smile.
"What do you want?"
"My name is Frank, and this is my brother, Joe. You know Will Prescott and Gordon Black already."
Blackwell's eyes glimmer at the mention of Gordon's name, for Gordon is looking like Shep Tsosie. "I knew them this morning," he replies. "Whether these are the same foolish innocents who left my house is a very pertinent question."
"You think they've been replaced by golems?" Frank asks. "You think my brother and I are golems?"
"What I think is immaterial. It is a matter of preserving my own skin."
"I understand," Frank says in a much gentler voice. "In your position, I would be very frightened too."
Maybe he shouldn't have used the word "frightened," for Blackwell glowers.
"If you would invite me over your threshold--" Frank starts.
"I will not be issuing any invitations," Blackwell snaps.
"I would submit to a search by you. Any test you might contrive to relieve your anxieties."
"I will not be issuing any invitations," Blackwell repeats.
Frank sighs. "Then I will simply walk in."
Blackwell considers this very long and hard, then opens the door to admit Frank, who keeps his eyes open and his features relaxed as Blackwell mutters and pulls at his face, and mutters and pulls again. "I suppose you will vouch for the others," he says sourly when he is satisfied.
"Of course."
"But I will not take your word, young man. This is dangerous business--"
"Then test them."
It's tedious, as each of you enters singly and submits to a probe, Blackwell himself included. Gordon's mask comes off, of course, and he slumps to the floor. No one pays him any heed, though. Joe and Frank step back outside. "Now, Professor," Frank says in a very firm voice. "An invitation."
"Who are you?" Blackwell barks, and his expression is, if possible, even darker than before.
"My name is Giuseppe Braccioforte," Frank says, putting a lilt onto the name, "though my friends call me 'Frank'. My colleague is Franz Liebesspruch, though everyone calls him 'Joe'. Of myself, I will just say two words. Malacandra and Lurga. Of Joe, Arbol and Viritrilbia. We have sworn fealty to one who walks with--"
"Stellae," Blackwell says in a hoarse whisper.
"Exactly. Now invite us in. Please."
* * * * *
It took nearly five minutes of argument and strained pleading on both sides before Blackwell, with tremendous formality despite the twitching in his hands, bid your quartet make entrance. He had suggested the living room as a meeting place, but Frank and Joe had instantly swerved toward the library as they passed it. Frank had stood just outside the archway and stared watchfully into it, but Joe had charged in, his head swiveling. He made directly for the grandfather clocks and peered at them closely with his hands behind his back. "Ingenious," he had said; the professor had turned crimson, whether from pride, embarrassment, shame, anger, or some combination of these, you couldn't say.
But now the five of you are settled around one of Blackwell's desks. Frank asks Blackwell to relate yesterday's events and his interpretation of them. Blackwell obliges, telling of your visit, the death of the golem, and what happened when he took the mask off it. "It took me several hours to diagnose its meaning," he says.
"How?" Joe asks.
Blackwell shows him the sketches he had made last night, and starts to explain them, but Joe silences him with a wave of the hand. "Arbol, remember?" he says, and taps his chest.
As he studies them, Frank asks Blackwell--and you and Gordon--to again relate the remainder of last night's adventures. You tell of going out to Maize's and Perry's houses, and what you found there. "Our friends," you say, "or what's left of them, are upstairs."
"And those are the only victims you know of?" Frank asks.
"Yeah," Gordon says. "I checked Dane this morning, just before I saw you. He was okay."
"But there's a mask of him and this girl still out there," Frank says.
"Also one of me," says Gordon. "But maybe we got all the golems?"
Frank pulls at his lip. "But then where is that mask of you? And the book? You look inside the masks of these other guys, see what they knew?"
"We have all the masks, except for that extra one of Gordon, and of Dane and Victoria," you say. "We looked in each of them. We don't know where the book is, or where that other mask of Gordon is."
"Then there's another golem out there," says Frank. "Either Gordon's mask is sitting on a golem, or, if it came off the golem, then another golem took it off its confederate. Since none of the masks you have has a memory of such a thing happening, then there must be another mask on another golem. And as long as even one of these things is running around and has the book, then it can make more."
"Then what are we sitting around for?" Gordon explodes. "The professor here thinks maybe they got our families!"
"That's exactly why we're sitting here," says Frank. "There's no place that's safe for you two. Anyway, we need to confirm what we're up against."
"It makes sense to me, Frank," says Joe, and lays the sheets down. "The professor knows what he's talking about. These guys let some revenants loose. We're gonna have to call Dad."
"Dad put us in charge of this operation, Joe."
"Dad put us in charge of recovering the Libra. He didn't put us in charge of stopping an invasion from Hell. We're going to call Dad," he says as Frank objects again, "and Dad is going to send Rick and Nash at the very least, and maybe Miko, too."
"And what deficiencies can they correct," Blackwell asks.
"Perelandra, Eldibria, Kenadandra, Catilindria, if Miko shows up," says Joe. "At least one more Malacandran, which will be useful. With Dad running things from a distance, we'd only lack a Sulvan on the scene, but there's none available at the moment."
"You're panicking, Joe. You always get overexcited--"
"And I'm telling you--"
Blackwell puts his palm on the table between them. "If I may offer my own counsel," he says, and both Frank and Joe frown at him. "I am inclined to agree that reinforcements are wanted. And if you consider how, ah, awkward, that would render my position, you will understand just how seriously I take our present crisis."
"We don't want your help or advice," Frank snaps.
"Will you get off your high horse," Joe says hotly. "There's greater and lesser evils in the world, and compared to what we're facing, the professor's hat is looking pretty white to me."
Frank retreats into a stony silence. Blackwell flushes deeply. And then he gets up and takes that horrible monkey out of its alcove and sets it on the table. Frank and Joe rear back.
Blackwell grasps the thing by its base. "Give me any oath you require of me, Stellae," he says in a hoarse voice. "And I will stake myself on this thing to help."
The brothers look shocked, even frightened, and no one says anything for a good long time. And then Frank extracts a promise from the professor, who swears his agreement. Instantly, he yanks his hand back with a cry. Blood trickles out of his palm.
Discussion then turns to what course to take next. Gordon is all for charging out, but Frank wants you and him to stay safely tucked away at Blackwell's.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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