Alliance for Antrim

by Thomas Lombard

  Chapter 11

  Mindpower?

  When the trio reached the Science Building it was just past sunrise. They made for the janitor’s storeroom in the basement, but when they approached the door Nevin was concerned that someone might be inside. He entered first, a prudent decision since Al was sitting in a chair reading the morning paper.

  “Hey, Professor Reasoner. This is a surprise. What are you doing here so early?”

  “Oh. . .Hi, Al. I’m.. . .just getting ready to clean out my office. You. . .are you going to be around a while?

  “Yeah. I heard about you clearing out. Sorry about that. Yeah, I’ll be here all day. Say, you need something?”

  “No, that’s OK, Al. I’ll see you later.”

  “You sure you don’t need something?” Al seemed to be getting curious.

  Nevin shook his head and left the room, closing the door behind him so his two companions would not be seen. He whispered, “The janitor’s in there and it looks like he’ll be there a while.”

  “We must think of a way to get him out,” said Bartram, concerned about the delay.

  “Can’t we try the spell in my office?” Nevin asked. “It’s only a few doors down the hall.”

  “It is too risky. There is no telling where you might end up if we started from a different site. It probably would not work at all, if my guess is right. I expect this spell only works in certain locations, and that may explain why the palimpsest was placed in the Huxley meditation hut.”

  “What do you mean, Bartram? What is so unique about that particular room?” Nevin asked.

  “I cannot explain with certainty, Mr. Reasoner, but I think it is a nexus point of two trackways that pulse with energy. You may have heard of something like this called ley lines.”

  “Yes, I have read about it. I know there are many examples where huge amounts of human effort were used to build monuments on intersection sites. And that electromagnetic energy pulsates there. Chinese history claims that some people can perceive this energy without instruments.

  “True, Mr. Reasoner. Did you know that some yogis radiate psychic energy so powerful they can levitate or move objects? Perhaps that is too ‘magical’ for you to accept, but your modern science confirms these practitioners have extraordinary brain activity during their demonstrations. Psychic energy is still energy, after all—but enough! Now is not the time for didactics.”

  “I would really like to know more about that, but you are right. Now we have to deal with Al.” True to his promise to help these men, Nevin came up with a plan. “Follow me to the men’s restroom.”

  The two men followed as Nevin hurried to the opposite end of the corridor and entered the men’s restroom. From the number of plumbing fixtures and the dazzling amount of shiny pipe and sparkling ceramic tile, Anson had difficulty understanding how this facility would function as a room for “resting.”

  While Nevin studied the pipe connecting the line of urinals, Anson examined the row of closed-door partitions against the back wall. While peeking past a door of one of the cubicles, he whispered over his shoulder to Nevin, “Are these little closets where you cloister yourselves for ‘rest’?”

  Nevin and Bartram both responded with a subdued laugh. Nevin said, “I guess you could say that’s what some people come here for.”

  Nevin returned his attention to a vertical piece of pipe connected to the first urinal. While warding off some guilt over the vandalism he was contemplating, he told his cohorts to wait there while he ran to one of the labs. He returned with a slip joint pliers and proceeded to turn the collar nut on the pipe. When the nut was loose, he knocked the pipe free with the heel of hand. Water spewed out in a vigorous stream, startling the two mages who had to jump to avoid getting sprayed. Nevin told them to go to his office while he took care of Al. He then rushed to the janitor’s storeroom, where he poked his head in the door and told Al about the flooding restroom. Al streaked out the door with his toolbox, while Nevin remained behind.

  The two mages heard the commotion of clanking tools as Al ran noisily down the corridor. They rejoined Nevin in the storeroom. “What do we need to do now?I don’t think we have a lot of time before Al comes back.”

  Bartram took charge. “Mr. Reasoner, you and Anson need to stand over there, on the spot where Anson first arrived. Begin reciting the spell, both of you. I must remain on this side of the room.”

  Anson led Nevin to the designated spot and began canting the spellwords. Nevin, feeling a little awkward, awkwardly contributed intermittent words from the passages he had memorized. It was a bit much to expect him to jump right into this spellcasting business. Besides, nothing seemed to be happening. Nevin was fighting back second thoughts.

  Bartram saw the hesitancy and called to Nevin from across the room, sounding frantic, “Mr. Reasoner. . .Nevin! Please recite the words! You must say the words and concentrate on their meaning. Anson cannot carry this spell for both of you. The spell will not take hold without your effort.”

  Nevin complied and joined the incantation. He began to notice something. A slight humming or buzzing sensation, not really audible but more a tactile sensation as his skin started tingling. He thought he heard Bartram say the spell was “taking hold,” but could it really be happening? The tingling sensation was head to foot, like goose bumps, occurring whether his skin was covered or uncovered—an external stimulation that came with a rush of excitement. It was a most interesting sensory experience. Very remarkable. He found himself savoring it.

  With the barrage of sensations, Nevin overcame his awkwardness at reciting the spellwords. He started syncopating his incantation with Anson, timing the words as if they were singing a well-memorized song. He closed his eyes and tried hard to concentrate on the words, as much to contribute to the spell as to prevent his mind from challenging the sensibility of this act. After Nevin’s concentrated effort there was a startling result that Anson later said was a burst of mental flux. The humming, tingling sensations intensified to such an extent that it affected both of them. Nevin tottered a bit and Anson had to steady himself by placing his hand on the wall. Nevin’s heart pounded from the rush of sensations and the tiny penetrating thought that he was about to experience something he thought utterly impossible. He felt his arm being grasped and he looked down at Anson, the mage intent in his concentration but smiling broadly as he leaned on Nevin for support.

  Across the room Bartram also gave a smile when he felt the burst of power from their paired incantation, but he was also relieved that he would not have to contribute to the spell and risk his own deliverance. The combined effort by Anson and Nevin was steadily mounting a field of mental energy greater than any Bartram had ever experienced. There was no doubt they were going to be delivered—somewhere.

  When the pair finished one more complete iteration of the spell, there was a final surge of stimulation with the most extraordinary reaction. Whether his eyes were open or closed, Nevin’s sight remained the same. He was experiencing a hoary, fog-shrouded visual field with no distinct images. It felt like he was moving, or rather he felt movement, but the feeling was independent of his limbs. His heart was pounding so fiercely that it seemed to boom in his ears.

  Nevin’s hearing was still intact, relatively speaking. He could discern that something else was going on in the room while the spell was enveloping him. He could tell that someone had shouted, “What the hell is going on here!” followed by a thumping sound. He assumed Al had returned, already in an agitated state due to the flooding of the bathroom. Nevin could barely muster the thought that Bartram would have his hands full afterward trying to explain this to Al. However, Bartram had already dealt with the situation quite efficiently, putting Al to sleep with a somnolence spell and setting him in his chair. Al would later wake up, alone and quite confused.

  Outside noise was then completely lost, but shapes began to come together with color and sound. It was both exhilarating and peaceful. There was a slight jolt to his body such
as he might expect to feel when a fast elevator stopped at the ground floor. Anson’s face came into focus looking up at him, bearing a fatigued look but a wide smile at their safe arrival.

  “Welcome to Antrim, Sir Nevin.”