by Jason Parker
“The pleasure is mine and, please, call me Dagan. Your instructors speak very highly of you as well,” Dagan said, his original welcoming tone returning.
“I know you must be skeptical of my offer,” Dagan continued. “Let me try to assuage some of your misgivings by showing you what is, undoubtedly, foremost on your mind—my laboratory. Do come in.”
Nightlocke walked through the doorway into a large entrance foyer. His eyes were immediately drawn to a grand staircase which swirled directly opposite the entrance. A balcony at the top of the stairs overlooked the foyer. A cathedral ceiling graciously opened the air to the second floor. A crystal chandelier hung from it and he wondered how the incandium sparkling within could ever be replenished as it was so high up. The walls were painted a rich gold color and decorated with portraits of people he did not recognize. One of them resembled a dashing young Dagan, an arm around the waist of an elegant, yet plain dark-haired young woman. Although, judging by the style of clothing, Nightlocke surmised the man in the portrait must be a forebear of Dagan with a striking resemblance.
Dagan led him to the left of the grand staircase into a dimly lit hallway. As they walked Dagan said, “This castle has been in my family for some time. Aside from my maid, Arletta, who is here four days a week and a stable hand—his name is Lassernan—I am the sole occupant of the castle. I will see that Lassernan attends to your mount.”
As they rounded a corner, Nightlocke saw the beginning of a spiral staircase which, he suspected, provided access to one of the towers. “The horse is just a rental, but I'm sure she would appreciate some water.”
Dagan stopped and opened a door. Stepping inside, he sprinkled some phosphorous powder on an incandium lantern hanging on the wall and walked around the room to light a few others. As the room illuminated, Nightlocke was astounded to look upon the most state-of-the-art and well-equipped laboratory he could ever hope for. Rainstel's lab at the Institute did not compare to this. Not even a sliver. As he examined the equipment, he shook his head in suspended disbelief.
“I trust everything is satisfactory,” Dagan said with amusement.
Nightlocke stared at the assortment of beakers, flasks, filters, burners, microscopes, balances, oscillators, centrifuges—it was endless. “Yes, more than satisfactory,” he blurted in excitement.
Dagan pointed to a door on the wall perpendicular to the left of where they had entered. “Through that door is a fully stocked reagent and supply room. On the other side of it is another laboratory identical to this one. Provided you have decided to accept my offer of apprenticeship, you may select either lab you wish to be your own.”
“You must understand this whole situation is somewhat surreal,” Nightlocke said tempering his exhilaration. “Sir, you’re a complete stranger who I’m told has impeccable scientific credentials. I’ve never heard of you, but you invite me to apprentice in your home. Your home turns out to be a castle which houses the laboratory of my dreams. I’m sure you have your reasons for doing this, and logically we should discuss them and get to know one another, but…these facilities are so amazing! While it goes against my cautionary judgment, I can’t pass up this opportunity. I want to get to work as soon as possible.”
Dagan smiled and nodded, “I completely understand. We’ll have ample time to work through the details. I’m happy you have decided to stay, even if you are just using me for my lab facilities,” he said with a wink.
Nightlocke laughed, fairly certain he was joking.
Dagan motioned toward the door. “Let me give a brief tour and then you can get settled and right to work if you desire.” They exited the lab and quietly proceeded along the corridor past the reagent room and the second laboratory.
As they turned a corner, Dagan continued, “The residence quarters used to be on the second floor but, for convenience, I converted several rooms down here to serve that function. You’ll have to settle for a courtyard view here on the first instead of the ocean view on the second floor. Everything of importance has been moved to the first floor and I rarely have a need to venture upstairs. There is a large library up there which you are free to visit at any time, but otherwise, the second floor is full of empty rooms or storage.”
Dagan pointed and walked ahead. “Along this corridor are three guest rooms and my quarters.” Opening this first door he said, “I had Arletta prepare this room for you since it is the one in closest proximity to the labs.”
The room was furnished with a double-sized bed, a chest of drawers, and a large desk. The waning early evening sunlight filtered in through two large windows on the wall opposite the entrance and he could see a portion of the courtyard outside. A door leading to the courtyard was centered between the two windows.
“This will be great, thank you,” Nightlocke said as he set his backpack on the bed.
Pointing to the door on the opposite wall, Dagan said, “There is not much in the courtyard other than the stables, but it can be a relaxing place to take a break or eat a meal on a nice day.”
They exited the room and continued the tour. Dagan showed him the kitchen and mentioned Arletta would prepare meals when she was on duty. Otherwise, he would have to fend for himself. They ended the tour in the courtyard. Nightlocke eyed the entrance to his room from where they stood. A few pine trees spotted the area and the smell of horses drifted in the breeze of the otherwise barren square.
Dagan turned toward Nightlocke and smiled. “Well, that is most everything worth seeing. Please make yourself at home and feel free to wander and explore at your leisure.”
“Thank you for showing me your home,” Nightlocke gazed at Dagan and continued to peer around the yard taking in the newness of it all.
Dagan shifted his legs and patted Nightlocke on the shoulder. “You may begin working in the lab as soon as you wish. I will check up on you occasionally, but I do not plan to hover or interfere. I believe the most truly innovative accomplishments are made when you work through problems on your own. I do, however, have many years of experience in most aspects of science, so please utilize me as a resource whenever you have need.”
Dagan bid him good evening and exited the courtyard. Nightlocke decided he would make a quick stop at the kitchen to ease his hunger.
Then it was time to get to work.
CHAPTER 13
Wexworth stiffened and sighed upon hearing Lord Vergilus call for him to return. He stared at the pair of oak doors leading from the audience chamber. The brass ornamentation sparkled with amusement. So close, he mused then turned and looked longingly toward the High Priestess Lancia who walked beside him. The image was marred by the white masked Paladin towering next to her. Believing the three of them had concluded their audience with the Triumvirate, Wexworth had hoped to escort Lancia back to the Cathedral. Unfortunately, the Triumvirate wished to speak with him about other matters aside from his recent journey to Delon. Wexworth dreaded discovering exactly what.
“It seems I must bid you farewell, High Priestess,” he said, offering her a deep bow.
Lancia smiled at him and held out her right hand. Surprised by the gesture, Wexworth quickly recovered and took her hand gingerly in his and raised it to his lips. He gently kissed the tops of her knuckles and savored the exquisiteness of the softest and most delicate hand he had ever encountered.
“Don’t worry, Master Scientist,” Paladin said in his mask muffled monotone. “I will ensure the High Priestess is safely returned to the Cathedral.”
Wexworth scowled and reluctantly released Lancia’s hand. He watched as she turned and gracefully stepped through the doors of the audience chamber into the hallway with Paladin in tow. Until she was out of sight, he held his breath and let his eyes linger on her.
“Wexworth,” Vergilus called out again from the dais at front of the chamber.
Flushing slightly, he smoothed his waistcoat and approached the three lords of the Triumvirate. He bowed. “How may I be of further service, my lords,” he said with feigned enthusiasm.<
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Lord Vergilus sat to the right of Lord Markov and Lord Tyval. He leaned back in his brocade patterned throne and flexed his fingers. “We were hoping to get an update on your portal device.”
“Ah, yes…the…um portal device,” Wexworth stammered. Anxiety burned in the pit of his stomach and he began to perspire. He dabbed his brow with the sleeve of his immaculately pressed white shirt. He adjusted his forest green jacquard puff tie and took a deep breath. He had hoped to avoid this topic for a few more days.
“It has been my primary focus since my return from Delon. There was an unfortunate incident while I was gone, but all in all, I would say everything is progressing nicely,” he finished, mustering the most convincing smile he could, hoping it would suffice.
“Incident? What sort of incident?” Markov asked with extreme displeasure etched on his round face.
“Well,” he said, subconsciously smoothing his waistcoat, “one of my assistants was careless and allowed the girl to slip away.”
“What do you mean by slip away?” Tyval asked. He ran a hand across his close cropped military style white hair. “Didn’t you tell us she had willingly agreed to assist you? Didn’t you tell us she would help us find an artificial means of replicating her natural ability to create portals?”
The girl, Belene, was a remarkable specimen—she could create portals to distant locations out of thin air. It was incomprehensible to Wexworth that someone could perform such a feat, and yet that is exactly what Belene could do.
Lord Tyval’s questions were leading Wexworth onto a pond covered with thin ice. Only Vergilus was aware the girl was a less than accommodating subject, but even he did not know the extent of her defiance and the measures Wexworth had taken to temper it. Their relationship deteriorated such that Wexworth found it necessary to hold her captive in his lab and force her to submit to invasive experimentation, frequently resorting to beatings to quell her resistance.
“My lords,” Vergilus piped up. “Allow me to intercede on Wexworth’s behalf. I’m afraid we may have misrepresented Belene. She is truly little more than a teenage street urchin who has been stealing to survive since witnessing the murder of her parents when she was a little girl. I became aware of her when a suspicious merchant contacted the authorities who arranged a sting operation to discover why his merchandise was mysteriously disappearing. An undercover guardsman saw Belene open a portal and attempt to abscond with a collection of the merchant’s groceries. The guard apprehended her before she could step through. He reported the bizarre incident to his captain, an acquaintance of mine.”
Wexworth stifled a laugh. Vergilus had paid off all the Corava guardsmen so he was the first to know when anything interesting or unusual happened.
Vergilus continued, “Not knowing what to do with the girl, the captain contacted me and transferred her to my custody.”
Markov’s jaw dropped. “Misrepresentation is an understatement. This is an outrageous violation of trust, Lord Vergilus.”
Vergilus shot a venomous glare at Wexworth then contritely bowed his head. “Yes, I apologize for not being more forthcoming. I was hoping to save you needless concern.”
“Humph!” Markov bellowed as he slapped his hand on the table and cast an accusatory glance at Vergilus. “A girl in such dire straits should have been brought into the care of the Church, not Wexworth’s lab.” He narrowed his eyes and glared at Wexworth.
Wexworth shifted uncomfortably and studied the floor. “Perhaps you are right, my lord, but Belene has such a singular talent. I sincerely hoped we could establish a mutually beneficial relationship.”
Markov opened his mouth to respond, but Tyval cleared his throat and spoke, “Need I remind everyone we are all part of the same unit? There is no excuse for your secrecy, Lord Vergilus. Full disclosure and trust between us is imperative to the strength of our unified nations. You exercised poor judgment in this matter. However, despite Belene’s unfortunate circumstances, allowing Wexworth to study her and attempt to replicate her ability was the correct call. Developing an artificial means of creating portals would be an astounding achievement.”
Markov’s face blossomed with anger. Wexworth envisioned tendrils of steam rising among the sparse hairs on his portly head and quickly raised a hand to cover his mouth and hide a smile. Vergilus nodded toward Tyval. “Again my sincerest apologies. It was a mistake to keep details about Belene from you.” He looked at Markov. “ I assure you, the girl’s welfare was a primary concern of mine. In return for her assistance I agreed to absolve her of her crimes and provide her with enough coin to eliminate the need for further thievery.”
Markov smirked at him. “Despite such a generous arrangement she decided to run away without collecting any of her promised compensation?”
Vergilus rubbed his eyes. “She was not the trusting sort. I suspect living as an orphan on the streets would do that to someone.”
“Since she didn’t have faith in your agreement why did she stay at all?” Tyval asked with a frown. “Utilizing her portal ability she could have left at any time.”
Vergilus sighed. “Belene was never enthusiastic about the arrangement, but she was initially compliant. After a few days, Wexworth was making considerable progress, but could see her impatience growing.” He paused and cast another venomous look toward Wexworth. “Afraid she would attempt to leave, Wexworth decided it would be prudent to keep her tethered on a chain.”
Markov shot out of his seat and stared at Wexworth. “You forcibly held her captive?”
Wexworth smoothed his waistcoat and shuffled his feet. “Uh, yes, my lord. As Lord Vergilus said, I was making considerable progress and could not afford to lose Belene. In truth, though, I did not expect the shackle to hold her. I thought she could still escape through a portal. She, of course, tried, but once she was through it and the portal began to close, something surprising happened. When the contracting portal encountered the chain of the tether, it reopened. When we pulled Belene back through the portal into the lab, she was obviously as stunned as I was. Apparently, when blocked by solid matter, her portals can’t close.”
Markov shook his head and motioned for silence. “That’s all quite fascinating, but holding captive an innocent child – of what, sixteen years – is an affront to Keyaul and to the laws of our unified nation. I consider you and Lord Vergilus equally responsible.”
“I agree,” Tyval interjected, “the ethics of what you have done are indeed questionable. The more you two say, the deeper the mess becomes. As I said before, you should have brought these matters to our attention forthright. Is there anything else you haven’t told us?”
“No, Lord Tyval,” Vergilus said demurely looking toward his elder colleague. “I take full responsibility for my lack of transparency and will not make the same mistake again.”
Tyval looked at him pointedly. “Ensure you don’t. Having this conversation again will be entirely more unpleasant.”
Markov shook his head in astonishment. “So that’s it? What about the gross mistreatment of the innocent young girl? Are there to be no repercussions?”
“I truly sympathize with the tragedy of Belene losing her parents at such a young age, but she is hardly innocent. She is a thief and hard telling what else. While I’m opposed to her mistreatment, the advantages of replicating her portal ability are immeasurable.” Tyval fixed his gaze on Vergilus. “I believe we have an understanding going forward?”
“Yes, my lord,” Vergilus nodded.
Tyval turned toward Wexworth. “And you, Chief Scientist, will prepare weekly status reports detailing everything that happens in your labs and you will be subject to unannounced inspections as we see fit.”
Wexworth bowed deeply. “Yes my lord, thank you my lord.”
Looking none too happy, but realizing seeking further sanctions was futile, Markov said, “Be advised, Wexworth, I will be keeping a close eye on you.” He sniffed toward Vergilus. “Remember we are to set an example for those we rule.”
“I do not believe so, my lord,” Wexworth replied. “I have acquired adequate samples of her tissues and fluids and, most significantly, I isolated a unique chemical reaction within her brain that only occurs when she creates a portal.” Wexworth exhaled and glanced toward Tyval and Markov. “Then after considerable experimentation, I was able to replicate a stable form of the reaction. Prior to my sojourn to Delon, I was successful in constructing a mechanical device capable of opening a portal.”
“That is wonderful news,” Tyval said. “Why did you not tell us of this sooner?”
“Perhaps I spoke a bit too encouragingly, Lord Tyval,” Wexworth responded. “I was indeed able to construct a portal but, unfortunately, it opens to nowhere specific. I have yet to determine a means of providing a locus point for the portal. Belene is able to do this innately. She thinks of a location, the chemical reaction occurs, and the portal opens to the desired location. On a positive note, I have verified objects can pass through my portal. I’ve sent inanimate objects as well as lab rodents through it, but where they go can best be described as a void. They can be observed for several minutes floating inside the portal then they simply drift away, enveloped by the nothingness on the other side.”
“Thank you for the update, Wexworth,” Vergilus said nodding and stroking his goatee. “I'm impressed by what you have accomplished thus far. In truth, I had limited expectations for this project, but it may turn out to be viable. Please continue working on it.”
“Yes,” Markov added with a smirk, “and do try to refrain from holding anyone else captive during the remainder of your research.”