It was my turn to snort. "No lies? Why can't I step closer? Why can't I see you? You choose to skirt the truth but insist that no lies will be found here?" My anger was rising in my throat and I almost stepped forward then.
"You could, but I ask that you do not. Not out of some sort of misdirection, but more out of embarrassment on my behalf." He took a deep breath and it was loud enough to hear across whatever distance stood between us. "I currently suffer from a condition that does not always show me in the best of terms. It is slightly worsened today and I wish that you not see me like this."
"Your condition?" I asked.
He hesitated. "If you press me on this, I will describe my condition in great detail, but the walls," he paused again, "are listening, and this is not the time of true knowledge. Tonight, at one in the morning, return to me and I will tell you everything that you need to know."
This was only another thing to put off my getting to the book. I was tired of set-backs and waiting. "I only need to know where the book is."
I wasn't sure if it was Karl Freeman or whatever the machinery was, but I heard a hiss then. "No. You need to know many more truths than the location of the Necronomicon. Tonight you will come to me, and come alone. She will try to accompany you, and that cannot be allowed."
I sensed the end of the conversation had come, whether I wanted it or not, and I wasn't going to risk losing all of my answers by forcing a diseased old cultist to tell me his secrets. I didn't say anything as a farewell, instead choosing to holster my gun and exit through the doorway. I latched it behind me.
Olivia stood at the far end of the hallway still with a pale look that told me the answer to my next question. "Are you alright?"
She brushed it off by quickly saying, "Yes. Did you speak with him?"
I nodded. "Yes." After the little bit that Karl had mentioned regarding Olivia, I wasn't sure if it was meant to sow distrust or enlighten me. Either way, I couldn't ignore my new concern. Up until this point, I'd been worried about her allegiance to the French Resistance getting in the way of any sort of trust we could have. Now I had to worry about if she was...what? Something from the void? That was jumping to conclusions. Maybe Karl was only sensing my own distrust. I chose to avoid telling Olivia about any of the discussion between myself and Karl, not even about meeting him later that night.
"Let's go see if Leo found us a place to stay." I said, changing the subject.
To our luck, Leo was waiting for us outside the apartment building in Father Blake's car. Leo had been busy in the short time since he'd left us. In the back of the car were ammo boxes and rations, both of which Olivia and I were more than grateful for. He also mentioned that he had managed to secure us transport into Germany on the next day. This meant to me that whatever business I had with Karl Freeman couldn't be put off any longer than it already had.
On top of those two very incredible feats, Leo had booked us each a room at a hotel only a mile from Karl Freeman's apartment. When we had pulled up to it, I thanked him, grabbed a box of ammo and a pack of rations, and then marched up to the front desk to get my key.
The room was anything but nice, but I wasn't going to complain. I'd slept aboard ships, in sewers, and in a former cultist's old hut; the room was paradise. I collapsed on the bed and allowed the night to pull at my eyes.
My dreams were of the regular variety; of that I was pleased. I'd had enough of monsters and creepy crawlies for the day, and while I loved the life I had chosen, I relished the break from them that my dreams provided.
I awoke to a light knock on the door and turned to look at the clock. It was about 10 p.m. local time. My nap had lasted just under five hours. I wasn't surprised. Even with the rest at Father Blake's, we were all pushing ourselves harder than anybody should have had to endure.
I crossed the small room and opened the door without looking out the peephole. Olivia stood there, in a bathrobe and with her bare feet. Her hair was damp and I could only assume that she'd tried the cleaning facilities out.
"May I come in?" With her robe showing off a low neckline and hugging her hips ever so nicely, it didn't take me more than a split second to step out of her way and wave her in. She looked much healthier than she had earlier. All signs of her looking ill long gone. I shut the door behind her and pulled a chair out from behind the small desk that came with the room.
As she took a spot on the bed, I sat in the chair. "To what do I owe this late night honor?"
She smiled then, and I realized then that it was the first time that I'd seen a genuine smile cross her lips. This smile left all other smiles in the dust.
"You never got a chance to tell me what Karl Freeman said." She crossed her legs, and yes, I noticed. "Did he tell you where to find the book?"
I returned her smile. "No, he didn't." I crossed my own legs and leaned back in the chair. "As a matter of fact, he didn't tell me much of anything. He wants me to meet with him again."
Concern flooded her face. "There's no time. We leave tomorrow morning." Then understanding crossed her face. "You're going to meet him tonight?"
I nodded. "Later. He said that there is much that I will need to hear tonight."
Olivia stood from the bed and the movement was slow and deliberate. She then crossed the distance between us and very slowly climbed into my lap, forcing me to uncross my legs. "How much later?"
Neither trust, lies, the French Resistance, or Miskatonic University had any existence in my mind then. The Necronomicon be damned, in that moment we were only a man and a woman, surrounded by horrors and alone in the dark.
***
It was midnight, when I rose from the bed and, grabbing my clothes, crossed to the bathroom to shower. I cleaned quickly and didn't let my mind go anywhere but into that soft quiet place that normally only exists first thing in the morning. It is that place where your mind has only just finished washing away the previous day and has not had a chance to look ahead at what is to come. It was peace.
I stepped from the shower, dried myself, and then dressed. I once again opted to leave the sword behind, but the holster had become a part of me, and I slid it around my waste, ready for whatever Karl Freeman might throw my direction. While I wanted to bring the sword, I knew that now wasn't the time. I could somehow sense that it would get more than its share of blood soon enough.
As I belted the holster to my waist, I looked down at Olivia's naked form as she looked up at me. We stared at each other for almost a minute before she leapt up from the bed and grabbed her robe.
"Give me a minute and I'll meet you downstairs." She said.
"What?" I stammered, confused at first, and then Karl's words came back to me in a rush. "No, you can't come with me." She stopped, naked, with her robe only half on and gave me an incredulous look. "You will need the backup, American. He is a disciple of Cthulhu and therefore a known murderer. I will only be a
minute." I walked around the bed and placed my hands on her shoulders as she tied the robe closed. "It's not that I don't want you to come. He said that I have to come alone. That," I made up this next bit hoping that it would convince her, "some truths are only for me to hear. If you come he won't tell me anything and we need to find that book."
She stared up at me and then nodded. I touched her chin and brought her mouth to mine. Her lips were impossibly soft, and I found myself wondering if it really mattered that I go see Freeman. He was only going to confirm or deny my current knowledge, and how important was that?
I pulled away from her kiss and smiled at her. As Olivia returned my smile, I remembered the real reason I was going to meet Karl Freeman: he knew something about Olivia. I hadn't admitted to myself that she was my real reason until that moment and I wasn't sure if I liked it at all. Either way, my mind was set, and I was going to visit Freeman.
"Alone. I'll be back before you know it." She nodded in acceptance and I left the room, leaving her inside.
I didn't take the car to Freeman's apartment. I had time and the wal
k would help me to settle my mind. It hadn't escaped my attention that the cultist could be about to tell me that I had just slept with a monster, or worse. Those kinds of things didn't sit well with many people, and would take a mile long walk before they could sit well with me.
I continued to look behind me, but even Berne was too noisy of a city to be certain if the next knock on pavement was someone following me or someone just walking in the same general direction. I couldn't be certain, but I was fairly sure that Olivia would attempt to trail me to the apartment. On the other hand, the place had made her ill to even be near. She might just wait until I get back and then seduce the information from me. Depending on the revelations tonight, it might be fairly easy to do.
As I climbed the stairs to Karl's apartment, the entire building felt eerily darker; more energized. I couldn't put my finger on it, but the darkness seemed to be alive and begging to be heard.
On the third floor, I crossed the landing to Karl's door and wasn't surprised to find that it was unlatched again. I pushed it open again, slowly, just as before, expecting anything. I shut the door behind me, this time allowing it to latch.
As if he had some sort of cue, Karl called out to me once I'd stepped about the same distance into the apartment as I had the first time.
"Come in, Dr. Doran. You may see me and sit with me now. I feel much better than I did." Karl's voice was much stronger than it had been earlier and lacked any of the drier qualities.
The room was still dark as night and just as cold. The whir of the machinery was still running.
I didn't draw my pistol this time, but instead kept my hand resting on it. As I got closer to the origin of the voice, I lamp was turned on and I could see into the corner of the small room. The lamp was dim and only illuminated the table it rested on, an apparatus beside it, and two chairs facing each other.
The apparatus next to the table was the source of the odd mechanical noise, and in the dim light I watched as puffs of condensed air collected around it. This machine was responsible for keeping the apartment so deeply cold. Everything had a purpose, and I filed this information away for later.
In the chair closest to the lamp and apparatus sat a frail man. My first thought was that he was old and small, but upon closer inspection I noticed that he was only thin, as if the meat under his very skin had somehow dissolved. He was skin resting on bones, and whatever his malady, it was definitely some sort of wasting disease.
Karl Freeman was pale; even in the dim light I could see that. He wore a loosely fit maroon robe that reminded me of Olivia back at my hotel room. He had the whisper of a beard touching his face, but it was barely existent and not as thick as mine. He trimmed it in an odd fashion with the mustache completely removed and a large dip cut into the beard directly under his cheekbones. Above those very same cheekbones
were eyes that somehow told of very ancient wisdom. It was a dark wisdom, but ancient nonetheless.
All of this was only noticed in the back of my mind, as the forefront was occupied with the smell. He was the source of that chemical scent I had noticed earlier. It came off of him in waves and I was surprised that I could not see it.
Choosing to attempt to ignore the smell, I slowly sat in the chair across from Karl. He didn't move at all and I was concerned that he might have passed on before I sat down. He dispelled my concern by speaking.
"She followed."
I nodded. I hadn't been sure of it until Karl mentioned it then. As he said, I not only knew that it was true, but I also knew that his words that this was a room of truth were fact.
I added. "But she won't come into the building."
He shook his head. It was a slight movement and almost imperceptible but I caught it. "It is as we both knew she would, but she did not follow in the manner that you are thinking."
I got right to the point. "You said that she wasn't what I thought that she was. What did you mean by that?"
He paused before he answered and it didn't escape my notice that while his mouth moved, his face did not, as if the two were disconnected.
"Perhaps," he said, "I misspoke." He took a breath. "It is highly likely that she is more of what you think she is than anything else."
I grew angry then. "You are speaking riddles to me. That's a shifty way to lie in a room of truth."
"I speak riddles only to protect you." He blinked and it looked like it was a conscious effort. "There are certain realizations that you must reach on your own and in your own time."
I didn't respond to his words, instead choosing to mull them over for a bit. In the end I decided that if he was going to just keep riddling with me, this wasn't worth my time. I attempted to put what I knew with what he'd riddled and voiced my conclusions. "Olivia is not of the void or I would have noticed."
He nodded at my words and it looked very mechanical. "Yes. The dreams that he has sent me show me that you have a power about you."
I could sense that he wasn't going to help me in my deductions anymore than he already had.
"Dreams," I shifted the subject. "Tell me about these dreams that he sends you."
Once again, Karl Freeman made a conscious decision to shut his eyes and I chose to open my view of the void energies around us. I couldn't see anything different about Karl Freeman with my sixth sense than I could without. The only thing that I noticed, and what must have allowed me to determine which apartment had been his earlier that day, was the thin fount of energy coming in from beyond the realms of this reality and touching him lightly on the neck. It pulsed in tune with a heartbeat. It was as if an intravenous solution were being pumped into this man from another world. He had no real power, but someone or something had seen it necessary to keep this man alive beyond the means of our world.
I could see that Karl Freeman had no affinity for the magical arts, but had somehow managed to anchor his soul to his body. He'd obviously had help.
"The dreams," he said after a long pause, "are those that the devourer sends to all that are willing to listen..." he hesitated, "and to a few who cannot understand their minds enough to close the doors."
I knew exactly what he meant. While anyone could study to open their minds to the dreadful imagery of Cthulhu's dreams, many suffered from those horrible nightmares simply on accident. It was believed that many who were of a creative and imaginative nature, such as artists, musicians, and writers, were open minded enough to be receptive to Cthulhu's dreams, yet not aware enough of their abilities to protect themselves. The result was that of many a creative mind being locked away in places such as the asylum at Arkham.
"Cthulhu." I said, acknowledging the name of the devourer.
"Cthulhu fhtagn!" He opened his eyes and shouted this at me, raising his hands above his head. "Glory be to Cthulhu!" This was more animated than I had expected him capable of and I was surprised.
"You seem to be a man of logic." I waved my hand at his refrigeration machine, "You're a man of science and a man who cherishes his own well-being. Why would you risk all of that as a cultist of Cthulhu?"
It was a question I had asked a thousand cultists a thousand times and I'd never received the same answer. Everyone had their reasons for following the dreaded lord.
Karl hesitated longer than he had with any other statement previously, and I worried that I'd offended him. I was just about to apologize when he spoke up. "I'm flattered by your observations, but it is these same observations that led me into my current faith." He forced himself to fill his lungs again. Every movement he made looked well thought out. "If one can withstand the voice of his majesty, Cthulhu, they will discover that he whispers visions of the future, encyclopedias of truth, and knowledge beyond our wildest dreams. In the past, I, like many of his disciples, have conducted the darker, bloodier practices at his demanding. Always proudly and with the anticipation of the new dark truths that were to be revealed. I have learned," he waved his hand at the refrigeration unit, "many things through my faith."
I accepted this and
shifted the subject again. "Does Cthulhu tell you where the Nazi's are hiding the Necronomicon?"
Karl nodded slowly, as if he were to damage something if he moved to fast. "You mean does he know where your book is, not Miskatonic's? Cthulhu has said that the book has always been meant for you, and he has told me where it can be found in all points of its journey."
"Mine?" I was surprised.
"You have sensed as much. The book has always been meant for you, and only you will bring it to its full potential." Karl smiled at me then and it was an unholy thing. "Cthulhu has high hopes for your book. He dreams that it will be the final bell to wake him from his deep sleep from his sunken city."
Anger seeped into my mind again, and I did not hold it back. "He can keep on dreaming. I won't let that happen. As long as I breathe, Cthulhu will not rise."
"Time does not exist for the dreaded one as it does for you and I. He has already seen it come to pass. You cannot stop it."
My anger began to get the best of me as I barked, "Just watch me!" I took a breath then and tried to cool down. I wasn't going to let this frozen soothe-sayer press my buttons. "Where is the book?"
Somehow, Karl Freeman's smile grew wider. "Your course is true. You will find the book in the hands of the Traum Kult in Berlin." His smile disappeared. "They do not have it yet, but they will soon."
Relief washed over me, but not for long. The Traum Kult would have the book, but at least I knew where they were and where the book would be. I'd have to be hopeful that I could get it away from them.
I pressed him, seeking more in this house of truths. "If your lord is betting on the book opening his path back to our world, why would he let you help me?"
Karl must have been expecting this question, because he did not hesitate to respond. "For two reasons: The first is the time thing again. The book is already in all of the places that it will be. Telling you where it is cannot change what will be anymore than it would change what has already been. The second reason," his weird smile returned and sent a shiver down my spine, "is one of common sense. How can Dr. Andrew Doran usher in the Age and Reign of Cthulhu without the tome to light his majesty's path?"
The Adventures of Andrew Doran: Box Set Page 15