Before long, the moon was glowing in the sky like a rogue streetlight, peering down and smirking at all the silly frivolity and wanton laughter. Just another night in New Orleans, Mars thought to herself.
File 47 :: [Edith Downs]
Walking through Spanish Plaza the next morning and drinking a latte she'd made for herself at Le Croissant Cité, Edith suddenly found herself looking at all the people in the plaza – people going to the Riverfront Mall or gazing out at the Mississippi or talking while sitting at the fountain – and feeling like she was so very separate from them. Weeks ago, days ago even, she'd felt that she just knew a bit more about the world than they did. But now she was left feeling like the world was infinitely more vast and intricate than she'd previously believed – giving her a sense of something like agoraphobia mixed with being completely lost.
She shook her head. “No, I was lost.” Her thoughts wandered to the Extraction Glove and antiques in the duffel bag hanging from her shoulder, which brought a smile to her lips.
Reaching into the fountain, she opened the metal door and pulled the lever. Glancing around as the walkway descended underground, she caught the gaze of a small boy who was walking the rim of the fountain. He gazed at the walkway and then up at her like she was some kind of superhero.
She put a finger to her lips. “Shh. You've gotta protect the secret entrance from the bad guys, ok?”
The little boy nodded and she walked down into the headquarters of The Agents Of. As the walkway closed behind her, cutting her off from the sunlight, Edith maneuvered through the stone hallways by the light of the gas lamps. She'd stopped by the quarantine zone looking for Roman, but Mars had told her that he'd headed towards his lab.
Edith was tired but her second latte of the day was helping. The night before, Adelaide had asked Edith to comb Frenchman while Adelaide watched from the rooftops. Edith's adrenaline had been high, and by the time they actually got back to Edith's apartment she had a rough time sleeping. Then when they'd woken up that morning, Edith had asked Adelaide to show her some stretches to do each day, along with an introduction to working out so she could start building up her body's strength.
The soreness felt good and Edith could tell she'd sleep like the dead when she finally got to lay down again.
When she walked into the laboratory Roman was at one of the tables tinkering with Julius' false leg while Julius sat in a chair next to him.
“I'm glad you're here,” said Roman, hardly looking up. “After I'm done with this, I'd like to hear how things are going with you.”
“She's doing amazing,” said Julius. “Adelaide sang endless praises of Edith yesterday.”
Edith felt herself blush, which was more annoying than embarrassing. “I don't know about 'amazing'...” She set duffel bag onto an empty lab table, unzipped it and began taking out the antiques Roman had given her – the ones she'd already finished looking through.
“Adelaide wouldn't say that lightly,” said Julius. “She likes you, but she wouldn't give you high praise unless she absolutely believed it.”
“He's right,” said Roman, using a tool to adjust one of the jars which were screwed into the leg. “That should do it.” He brought the leg over to Julius, who took it from him, lifted up his pant leg and began strapping it onto his stump. Roman looked at Edith. “You should leave the room.”
Julius got up and took off his trench coat, laying it over the back of the chair.
“Why?” said Edith.
“Remember the meeting outside Ernst Café and your reaction to Julius changing?” said Roman. “This is going to be much more intense. It should only take a minute or two.”
Julius met her gaze with his golden eyes, saying nothing – though she thought she sensed the tiniest smirk wanting to break across his lips. Like he was daring her.
“No,” she said. “I'll stay.”
Julius nodded and pulled off his shirt with his one hand. He was very muscular for such a lean man, with one shoulder and arm riddled with scar tissue right up to where it abruptly ended. He loosened his belt and let his pants drop, then stepped out of them, wearing only a pair of black boxers. Scar tissue ran all the way from the stump of his leg up above the waist of his boxers and covered his hip.
“Move away from the glass shelving, please,” Roman said with the tone of a doctor or librarian. “Edith, if you are going to stay you should move back and behind one of the other tables, and you should really consider looking away. This kind of interaction is best gone through gradually. Your senses will have enough on their plate without you actually seeing this.”
Julius moved away from anything breakable and Edith instinctively put all of the antiques back in the duffel bag and took the bag with her a couple tables away.
Roman crossed his arms and stared at Julius' false leg. “Alright, go. Step by step.”
She watched Julius take a deep breath, then she swore that his flesh rippled as his back straightened. A growl reached out from deep within him, sounding like it came from another country, another planet or another world. A growl that didn't fit into the space of the lab.
Edith looked down at the table and gripped the metal ledge, her body wanting more than anything to run. She took deep breaths, fighting her body as it started twitching really hard.
“It's holding steady,” said Roman. “Step it up.”
There was another growl, something unearthly that crawled up the length of Edith's leg, across her belly and up between her breasts where it gripped her heart like a fist.
“Ok,” said Roman. “Hold it as still as you can. Now walk in a circle.”
Beneath the long, slow growling Edith could hear sounds of liquid swishing around, of metal pieces sliding against each other.
“That's how it's supposed to work,” said Roman. “Bring it up more.”
Edith's knuckles were turning white on the table. She could hear the wet sound of skin becoming something else – no, it was more like skin becoming liquid so that something behind it could slide out and emerge to the surface.
“Hold it there,” said Roman. “Now walk around a little. Try not to knock over any tables.”
What she heard moving mere yards from where she stood was not a person – it wasn't even an animal – it was a force. Edith's breath kept wanting to quicken, but she fought to keep it deep and slow.
From the duffel bag in front of her crawled several of the tiny blue mems – having come out of the antiques. They crept up to her clenched hands, looking up at her face, and offered her sweet and calm memories to sooth her.
She shook her head. “No.” She'd already gone this far and she didn't want to be half-assed about it. She managed a faint smile for them, then they retreated into the bag – but she knew they were keeping an eye on her.
“Good, good,” said Roman from the other side of the table. “Perfect. See how it's extending like that to match your height? And it's keeping your weight as well – not bending or sliding off. I told you it just needed some actual testing.”
Edith thought she was crying when she saw the clear drops falling onto her hands as they gripped the table – but then she realized that it was sweat dripping down her forehead and then falling from the tip of her nose. She heard a rumbling from the creature that took the place of Julius, a rumbling that traveled down the center of each bone in her body – the rumble was something close to speaking.
“Oh, Edith!” said Roman. “You're completely white! You should sit down!”
“I'm fine.”
“I don't want you having a heart attack on us.” Roman came up next to her.
“Finish it. Please.”
Roman put an arm around her, with both of his hands on her shoulders. Her body shook, but eased into the comfort of his touch. However inhuman his touch seemed, it was far more human than whatever was across the room. “You're doing very well, Edith. I'm going to be right here.”
Edith nodded and took a deep breath. She felt his body shift against her a
s he nodded towards Julius.
The next growl she heard came up through the floor – it was that of a vengeance-driven angel gone mad, a thing sticking its head into this world just to shatter the moon with its scream. She pushed her shoulder against Roman's chest and he tightened his grip.
“Hold it,” said Roman quietly. “Now run.”
A small howling hurricane with feet pounding onto the stone floor, it was well behind them before Edith could register that it had even moved, her hair blowing against her face and plastering itself there with the stick of her sweat. And then it was over. She leaned forward as the fear poured out of her like fog pouring down the levee. Somehow her body knew when it was gone.
Roman squeezed her shoulders again. “You did well. How do you feel?”
Edith nodded. “I'm alright.”
“'I'm alright,' she says,” said Julius – the normal human Julius. “Well done, Edith.”
She dislodged her hands from the table and pushed her sweaty hair out of her face. Julius walked up to their table – he had either shed his boxers or they simply no longer existed, and Edith swallowed and looked away.
Roman knelt down to inspect the leg. “It can use a few more tweaks. There's some wear and strain, but only from the final kick. I'd say it won't have any problems until you go full force, and at that point it should hold up for a couple of minutes.”
Julius walked back over to his clothes and used his cane to pick his shirt up off the ground and set it on a table. “That works for me. I didn't expect to ever be this functional again.”
“Keep being careful with it. It might need adjusting from time to time.”
Julius stepped into his pants and used his cane to slowly pull them up his legs far enough to reach them. While Edith was busy looking away from him, she noticed tiny pieces of his boxers scattered about where he'd first been standing. He pulled the shirt over his head and maneuvered it around his torso with his one hand, then put on his trench coat. “I'll leave you two then and go start patrolling Bourbon Street.”
Edith sat down on a stool and fought her shaking body. “Julius, I need to talk to you first.”
“Of course.”
She swallowed and gazed at him unflinching. “I've nearly mastered the Extraction Glove. And I want to use it on The Axeman's chisel.”
“Fuck no.”
“I can do it.”
“You don't know what you're saying. It's not some damned antique in a shop. It carries a piece of that maniac's mind in it. It's not happening, Edith. Not yet.”
Edith jerked to her feet, her shaking body knocking the stool over to crash on the ground. “Then what the fuck am I doing here, Julius?! All you people, you talk about serendipity like it's a real force – some kind of demigod or something. Well, serendipity delivered me to you now, not a week or a month from now. Now!” She pulled a copy of The Times-Picayune out of her bag and threw it on the lab table. The headline yelled out from above the four people pictured on the front page: SEVENTEEN MUSICIANS VANISH IN TWO DAYS. “People are dying out there! Do you really think we're going to catch The Axeboy today? Do dozens more have to die at Trumpet Fest Saturday before you let me do what I'm fucking here for?”
Julius just gazed at her, calm. “The Axeboy didn't even know his father. The chisel shouldn't lead us anywhere. If The Axeboy succeeds and brings his father back, then the chisel might help us.”
“But it might help us now. Just let me look through the memories! I don't even have to open them up. I can just skim through them and see if any are relevant.”
“You can do that?” asked Roman.
Edith nodded.
“Huh. Have you made any progress with the copies?”
Edith reached into the bag, opened the padded box, took out the copier and set it on the table. “It's full. I need you to empty it so I can experiment more.”
“Full?” Roman walked over and snatched it up, looking at all the glowing yellow dots along the side. “Edith!” He looked from her to Julius. “She can make our history! I knew it!”
Julius kept his gaze on Edith. “I no longer doubted her abilities.”
“Yes, but she learned so fast!” Roman stalked across the room with the copier.
Julius took off his trench coat and tossed it onto one of the empty tables. “Take out the glove. Strap it on.” He looked across the room. “Roman, get that copier empty.”
“Wait,” said Edith, “what are we doing?”
“The chisel is not the next step for you. It should be considered the final step. You want to jump off the cliff, you've got to walk up to the edge first.” Julius pulled a chair up to the table with her duffel bag on it.
Edith shook her head. “You want me to use it on you?”
“Yes. The first memories you pull out of someone's head will belong to me. I will not ask you to use that on others until I first ask you to use it on me.”
“She might not be ready for it,” said Roman from across the room. He had the copier connected to a few rubber tubes and a boxy machine the size of a paper shredder.
Julius looked up at her and smiled. “Like you said, Edith – it's all Serendipity, right? She wouldn't have sent you to us to mess me up. At least not intentionally.”
Edith took the glove out of the padded box. She liked how it felt in her hands. “You trust in serendipity that much?”
“I don't trust her one bit. She's impulsive and sloppy. Edith, I trust you. Temporary Agent or not, until you look into my eyes and quit, my life and the lives of my Agents are in your hands. Just as your life is in our hands.”
Roman walked up with the empty copier.
“Now, it's time to do what you came here to do,” said Julius. “So strap on that ridiculous glove and reach into my head.”
Edith put her hand into the glove and began tightening the straps. The motions had become routine and familiar and in less than a minute she had the glove humming to life. She plugged the copier into the glove and it lit up. She felt the mems' absence – the ones that were in the duffel bag were virtually non-existent now that the glove was on.
Julius took a deep breath and relaxed into the chair, keeping his back straight.
Edith stepped towards him, and with each step his mind opened and the files of his memories spread out – like his mind was a flower and she was the sun. And there was such life in them! She'd thought the memories of objects were so alive, but these – they were connected to Julius' life force. They were like organs, breathing and pumping that light into and out of his mind.
Tears flowed down Edith's face, and she wiped them away with the back of the hand that held the copier.
“Don't be scared,” said Julius.
“I'm not scared. It's just beautiful...”
The memories were stacked but flipping down slowly in an arc, like the spinning cards of a Rolodex. She could tell that he was controlling it – he was pushing his memories around, ordering them for her.
“How?” she asked. “How do you know to control it like that?”
Julius bowed his head down a little and looked up at her through the glowing memories floating like squares of seaweed from his head. “See for yourself.”
She noticed Roman pull out a piece of Wonder from his coat and start eating it, sitting down on one of the stools. She thought she sensed him getting oddly emotional, but didn't want to break her concentration away from Julius. Edith took another step and reached out with the glove, taking a closer look at the memory – Julius was younger, in his late twenties. He had all his limbs intact.
She touched the memory and opened it a little, but didn't let it take her over. She didn't want to be overcome with emotions, not in front of Julius.
In the memory he was in an abandoned building, sitting on an empty chair. “Go ahead,” said the younger version of him.
A beautiful woman with long red hair approached him, wearing a white T-shirt and black jeans, with a belt covered in pouches and small devices. On her arm was somethi
ng that resembled the Extraction Glove – it was even clunkier and much louder. “I don't want to hurt you.” She sounded terrified.
“Rachel, I have complete faith in you.”
She stepped closer. “Try thinking of a specific memory.” She stared at his forehead, then shook and cringed.
“What does it look like?” asked young Julius.
“Really really gross. Reminds me of fish guts. Except bright.”
Young Julius smiled. “Hope it's not just my memories that look that way.”
Rachel smirked. “Well I hope it's just your memories! For my stomach's sake!”
Young Julius laughed.
“Now hold still.” Rachel licked her lips and reached towards his forehead, but her hand was too shaky – she wasn't feeling the glove, she was treating it like any glove you'd buy at the hardware store. And since Edith was inside Julius' memory, she couldn't see what Rachel was seeing – she couldn't see the memories emerging from Julius' mind. “Damn it!”
“Need me to try something different?”
“I don't know. Maybe. I think it's just me, though. I don't have the precision.”
“We'll keep trying. There's no hurry.”
Edith closed up the memory and made a copy of it the same way she'd copied the memories from objects, and the square light of memory sunk into the copier to become a small yellow dot on its side. She lowered the glove. “Rachel – she was beautiful. And she seemed so normal.”
“This job,” said Julius. “This part of the world – it can be far more wondrous than your dreams. But you will come to fork after fork in the roads that lay before you, and there are plenty of paths that can reach into a person and crush everything good about them.” He leaned his head forward and the Rolodex of memories flipped and flipped and then stopped – the memories bending up or down except for one. “I have one more for you.”
In the corner of her eye she saw Roman eat more Wonder. She felt emotion ebbing and flowing from where he sat.
Edith reached out and touched the memory, letting it flow into the glove.
In the memory Julius was a little older than in the previous memory, and he was running through a dark, shaking building – an office building of some kind. It would have been too dark for Edith, but through Julius' eyes she saw everything. The smell of smoke and burning wood was thick in the air, and thunder boomed as lightning flashed through broken windows. The smoke grew even thicker as he ran, and at the end of a hallway he broke a door open with his shoulder. Half the room was in flames, and a half dozen bodies were strewn about the room. He crossed the room and crouched next to someone curled up in the corner.
The Axeboy's Blues (The Agents Of Book 1) Page 27