by Vic Kerry
“I’ve given you about half of my collection of emotional recordings. I have to keep some for legitimate research,” Rogers said.
Cybil eased around so that she could see through the crack between the door and the wall. Through the small opening, she saw Rogers at his desk. The other two men couldn’t be seen. Rogers dug around in his desk and brought out what looked like a thumb drive. He handed it over. An olive-colored hand took it from him.
“Ashe is suspicious about the missing engram prototype device,” Rogers said.
“Might I remind you, Dr. Rogers, that none of this would be possible without my assistance,” the foreigner said.
“I know that.”
“I would think that your cooperation would be more forthcoming. Great things await you yet,” the foreigner said. “What emotions are on this?”
“I just recorded and processed that today. It’s genuine self-doubt.”
The foreigner laughed. The sound resonated through the walls. Cybil felt it in her chest cavity. She stepped away from the door hoping that the feeling would subside.
“I love that emotion. It is so powerful,” the foreigner said. “Take this back with you, and do what needs to be done.”
Cybil heard a grunting noise, and the door started to open more. She turned her back and started down the hall at a pace that didn’t seem like she was trying to run away, but didn’t seem like she’d just started walking. The temptation to look over her shoulder to see who came out of the office was strong, but she avoided it and made her way to the stairwell. As she opened the door to the stairs, she took a look behind her. A broad-shouldered man followed her down the hall. He looked familiar, but not in an obvious way.
Cybil slipped inside the stairwell and started up a flight of stairs heading to Ashe’s office. She stopped on the next landing and peered down as the door from the fifth floor opened. The man walked in. He started down the steps, almost hopping on each step as if he couldn’t bend his knees properly. She ducked back from over the rail as he stopped and looked up. His heavy hops down the stairs echoed up to her. Cybil waited until she heard the door on the ground floor slam closed. It echoed up to her. She opened the door and stepped into the sixth floor hall.
Her heart beat fast in her chest as if the man had chased her. She didn’t really know why she was so excited. The only thing too bothersome was the foreign man, and it was just his voice. She walked down the hall toward Ashe’s office attempting to calm herself so that she didn’t burst in ranting.
Ashe and Smalls walked out of his office. They talked with each other as they came toward her. Ashe almost knocked into her before he looked up.
“What’s the matter with you?” Ashe asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I just overheard Dr. Rogers and two men talking,” she said.
“That was scary?” Smalls asked.
“I’ve heard how he talks around other guys,” Ashe said. “It can be scary.”
“I think that he’s involved with the Mafia or something,” Cybil said.
She really wasn’t sure that’s what she actually thought. The broad-shouldered man moved like the woman from the parade, but the two men talked like gangsters in old movies.
“The Mafia?” Smalls said. “What makes you think that?”
“These two guys were hassling him for more recordings of emotions. One of them said they needed a new one because someone died. The other guy, who had an accent of some kind, said that if it hadn’t been for him, Dr. Rogers would have never been able to figure out how to record emotions at all.” Cybil tried hard not to rant, but she felt like she’d failed at that.
“I’m not sure the Mafia is interested in emotional engrams,” Smalls said, “nor do I think that they could help Erik discover them.”
“I know what I heard.”
“I’m not saying that you misheard anything. I’m not sure it was the Mafia is all,” Smalls said. “It must have been disturbing though to get you this worked up.”
“Maybe we should stop by and visit him on our way out,” Ashe said.
“Where are you going?” Cybil asked. She didn’t want to be alone; plus, she’d ridden to school with Ashe.
“We were going to head downtown to that bar we went to the other night,” Ashe said.
“The Bayside Bar?” she asked.
“No, the one that you and Ashe went to after meeting the woman from the parading society,” Smalls said.
“Why?”
“We need to find the Goth Sox,” Ashe said. “Somehow and for some reason, that song you found on Marianne’s computer has been attached to the only downloadable copy of that lecture I assign students. It pops up automatically with all the issues that the copy on Marianne’s computer has.”
“You don’t think that the band is out to get you, do you?” Cybil asked.
Smalls shrugged his shoulders. “All I know is that the song has an incantation on it. When I did some research into that incantation, I found that it is very old.”
“Didn’t you say it was in Latin?” she asked. “I’d think that would make it pretty old.”
“It’s older than that,” Smalls said. “Much, much older. It’s the Latin translation of an ancient Hebrew translation of a Sumerian incantation.”
“Let’s get down to Erik’s office before he leaves for the day. We can talk about all this incantation stuff later,” Ashe said. “I want to settle your nerves, Cybil.” He smiled at her. She felt genuineness in his sentiment. “Maybe when we get to that bar and find the band, I can get mine settled.”
Cybil joined them as they walked to the stairwell. Without saying much they walked down to the next floor and to Rogers’ office. Ashe knocked on his door. No one answered.
“How long ago did you come past here?” Smalls asked.
“Not long. I came right upstairs as soon as the big guy came out,” Cybil said.
Ashe twisted the doorknob. The door opened. He stepped inside. Cybil moved so that she could see in. Smalls stood behind her. The lights were off, and the room empty. A strong odor filled her nose. It smelled almost like rotten eggs.
“Smells like someone farted in here,” Ashe said. “After eating Indian food.”
“More like rotten eggs.” Cybil put her hand over her nose and mouth. The smell was bad, but she could taste it too.
“You’re both wrong. That’s sulfur,” Smalls said.
Ashe pushed past her and back into the hall. She didn’t waste time getting back out either. Smalls pulled the door closed. The smell made her eyes water. She worried that it might make her eyeliner run because she’d bought the cheapest stuff at the grocery store that morning.
“Are you sure that was sulfur?” Ashe asked.
Smalls nodded. “That is one of those smells that once you’ve smelled it you always recognize it.”
“Sort of like pot.” Cybil took her hand away from her face. She noticed that Smalls and Ashe gave her a strange look. “Like you’ve never done it.”
“I haven’t,” Ashe said. “In case you haven’t noticed I’m a bit of nerd.”
“It’s exactly like that,” Smalls said. “I have smoked and been around it many times. Sulfur is another one of those smells.”
“Why would Dr. Rogers have sulfur in his office? Is that part of recording emotions?” Cybil asked.
“It’s all electrical,” Ashe said. “There aren’t any chemicals used at all.”
Smalls rubbed his chin. “Didn’t you say that you smelled something like rotten eggs at your apartment after it was broken into?”
Cybil nodded. “Yeah. I thought someone had taken a foul dump or something, because I didn’t have any eggs.”
“That’s interesting,” Smalls said.
“Why?” Ashe asked.
“I’m not positive just yet, but it’s something
to think on,” Smalls said. “I think Erik’s gone for the day. Let’s get to that bar.”
Cybil thought that the priest was a strange duck, but she’d been raised to think that all priests were a bit off. She took Ashe by the hand as they walked to the elevator. Being close to him comforted her some, even though she thought he might be thinking that she was a bit of strange duck right then as well. Why did she say Mafia? Now they’d think she was crazy.
Security Camera: Storage Facility, near Michigan Avenue, Mobile, AL, 5:07 p.m. CST
A group of people work on a large float. The face on the front is grotesque, snarling like a gargoyle on a cathedral. Several men of varying sizes carry boards to the float. Others lift them onto it. None of them move smoothly. They all look like robots in a factory assembling the thing.
A man in a dark hooded sweatshirt comes in. He points to the workers and then somewhere to the side. All the workers stop what they are doing and go where they are directed. The hooded man touches the face of the float. He inspects the underside and taps the structure with his finger. He looks around. No one is there except him. He beckons in the direction he came from. A woman walks toward him. Her movements are stiff. When she gets to him, she looks up at the ceiling. It is Marianne Lenard.
The hooded man unbuttons her blouse and pushes it off her body. She is naked underneath. He cups one of her breasts and pushes it up. At the same time he stoops and puts the nipple into his mouth. She moves her head around as if enjoying it.
He comes up and unfastens her pants. She pushes them down. The hooded man fondles both of her breasts. She stays stiff with her arms beside her. He appears to say something. She moves and undoes his pants. They fall to the floor. She begins to stimulate him. The hooded man pulls her face to his. They kiss.
With a sudden movement the hooded man turns Marianne around and puts her hands against the float. He pulls her hips out toward him. She moves closer to him and they start to gyrate. The movements become so swift that the hood falls free from his head revealing light-colored hair. He doesn’t replace the hood but keeps pumping away.
Just above them, a swarthy man appears. He looks down and smiles.
Chapter Sixteen
The hipster bar looked different from the night he and Cybil had come to it. Even though Ashe, Smalls and Cybil showed up around the traditional happy hour, only a few people milled around in the place. All the lights were on as well. It almost looked cheery, for a bar, Ashe thought. The bartender with a towel tossed over her shoulder came over to them when they sat down in a row at the counter.
“So what can I get for you three? Today’s special is piña coladas,” she said. “I know what you’re thinking: it’s a little early in the year for those. I told the manager that, but he really likes them so we’ve got them on happy hour special.”
“I’ll have one,” Cybil said.
“All right, and you gentlemen?”
“I think I’d just like a Pepsi,” Ashe said, “and a few answers.”
The bartender stopped and gave him the eye. He recognized the look. She didn’t trust him.
“Are you cops?” she asked.
“No,” Smalls said. He unwrapped the scarf he wore from around his neck. It revealed the white tab in his collar. “We’re just some folks who are curious about a band that plays here.”
“As long as you aren’t cops,” she said.
“I come in here all the time. Surely you’ve seen me,” Cybil said.
“Doesn’t mean you’re not some kind of narc.”
“He’s a priest, and I’m an engineering professor. We might be total nerds, but we’re not narcs,” Ashe said. “What do you know about the Goth Sox?”
“Give me a second and let me think.” The bartender walked to the soda machine and dispensed some Pepsi into a glass. She brought it to Ashe. “They suck.”
“We knew that already,” Smalls said. “Can you tell us the next time they’re playing here or if you know where they rehearse?”
“Are you going to drink something or just hassle me?” the bartender asked.
“Whiskey, straight,” Smalls said.
She walked to the area covered with whiskey bottles. “I’ve got no idea on either question.”
“Got any idea who might?” Ashe asked.
She looked him up and down as she handed Smalls his whiskey and started working on Cybil’s piña colada. “The boss might, but he’s not here right now. Before you ask, I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
Ashe drank his warm soda. It had been a waste of time coming back to this place. He hated bars like this. Dives always made him uncomfortable. Cybil got her piña colada. It was white and frothy in a fluted glass. A swizzle straw stuck up from the froth. She sipped from it.
“Maybe we should move to a table to finish our drinks,” Smalls said.
“Fine with me.”
They moved from the bar after Ashe put the drinks on his credit card. He signed a tip to the bartender. She would have gotten more had she given up more information. They sat at a table near the door. Ashe figured they shouldn’t get too involved in the ambiance of the place.
“This is a burnt run,” he said.
“Not really,” Smalls said.
“How is that?” he asked.
“I got a free whiskey.”
Ashe shook his head and took another sip of warm Pepsi. “I got an overpriced warm soda from a surly daylight bartender. I don’t guess you get to say that every day.”
“Fancy running into you guys here.”
Ashe looked up to see Rogers standing at their table. His hair was mussed, and he looked like he’d been sweating. The gray T-shirt he wore had dark places under his arms and at his chest.
“Why are you here?” Smalls asked. “This is certainly not your kind of bar.”
“I called in for my messages. They told me you had stopped by to see me. When I called to find you, Ashe, they told me you were coming here with Peter. I decided to come on down and see what you needed.” He sat in the available chair and waved toward the bartender.
She looked at him and waved back. Rogers let out a laugh and gave her the finger.
“Who told you?” Ashe asked.
“My assistant.” Rogers reached over and took Cybil’s drink from her and took a swig from the glass. “Piña colada.”
“Since when do you have an assistant?” Ashe asked.
“Since I became famous.” Rogers pondered Cybil’s drink again. “A bit early in the year for a piña colada, isn’t it?”
Cybil reached and took her drink back. She looked at it and pushed it back to him. “It was on special. Why don’t you finish it?”
He smiled. “I can handle that. I’m thirsty.” Another swallow went down his gullet. “Been at the gym. I have to start getting in shape for summer.”
Ashe picked his credit card out of his pocket and gave it to Cybil. “Go get yourself something else.” He looked at Rogers guzzling the drink. “Get me something too.”
Cybil got up and walked to the bar. Rogers watched her walk past. He wiped the white froth moustache on his arm and smiled at Ashe.
“I bet that’s fun to hit. How do you get them, Ashe? I mean Marianne and now that bit of freak,” Rogers said.
“You know that he’s a priest, right?” Ashe asked.
“He doesn’t care. He knows a hot piece when he sees one,” Rogers said.
Smalls took a drink from his whiskey. “You just have to deal with some things, like it or not.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about anyway,” Ashe said. “I’m still dealing with what happened to Marianne as well. You’re supposed to be a psychologist and sensitive to that kind of thing.”
“I’m not that kind of psychologist, and I know you’ve been getting it on with her. You told Dean Allred about it. You might as well ha
ve put in the newsletter.”
“So what did you come down for, Erik?” Smalls asked.
“To see what you guys wanted. I figured it must be important if you had both come by. I’m not in trouble am I?”
“Are you?” Smalls asked.
“Not that I know of.”
“How is the research going with the engrams?” Ashe asked.
“I’d like for it to be going a little faster and smoother, but I’m in no way in trouble. I’ll have some more publishable stuff soon.”
“Did you get what you wanted when you took my recording?” Ashe asked.
“Oh, yeah that was a great data set. The amplitude of that was amazing. I’ve yet to see engrams like those. I need to record more naturalistic emotional outbursts. Lab-induced just isn’t the same. It’s like canned peaches versus the fresh ones.”
Ashe knew that he was talking about Cybil and Marianne again. He didn’t know why he dealt so much with the scientist. It probably had to do with the fame they were connected by. If Rogers hadn’t come up with the theory and idea of how to record emotional engrams, then he would have never built the recorder. Equally, if Ashe hadn’t been such an electrical engineering genius then Rogers would have never been able to find the evidence he needed to make his law. Ashe saw nothing narcissistic about looking at things that way.
“Erik, there was a strange smell in your office when we came by,” Smalls said. “It kind of smelled like rotten eggs.”
“I’m a bit embarrassed about that,” Rogers said. “I’ve been on this new regimen trying to bulk up muscle so that I can be buff.”
Cybil handed Ashe a beer. She sat down with one as well. Rogers looked at her.
“Don’t stop because of me,” she said.
“I don’t really want to talk about it around a lady,” he said.
“Come on, Erik; it’s not like everyone on campus doesn’t know how you are,” Smalls said. “My students do.”
“Mine too,” Ashe said.
“So I want to get all buff because I’ve picked up so much exposure with this engram thing and women are just throwing themselves at me. I’ve been using this supplemental drink. It’s horrible and gives me wicked gas. That’s what it was.”