by G A Chase
The professor motioned them to the chairs. “You can only identify events based on strong emotions. What you experience would be comparable to hearing a recording of Thomas Edison yelling into his megaphone and having his voice recorded on a wax cylinder. Playing it back, we can barely make out the words. The level of accuracy we’re going to need to fool Colin would be comparable to a symphony recorded in a studio and played back on a high-end digital surround-sound system.”
Myles settled back into the chair. “I see your point. Kendell and I have dabbled with fine-tuning my abilities, but I end up getting lost in the overlapping currents of past events. For me, it’s like listening to a tape that’s been recorded over too many times or a multiexposed picture. At some point, the noise is too much for me to decipher.”
“Exactly,” the professor said. “But for Colin, we don’t need him to experience the past, just the outermost layer of activity.”
Myles couldn’t quite grasp what the professor had in mind. “We’re talking about what I’m able to experience. Even though I’ve been able to take Kendell on a psychometric trip or two, even I don’t know how I do it, only that I can. How does any of this transfer over to Colin? And if it did, what good would it do for him to read a single object?”
Professor Yates ran his hand over the surface of the metal desk. “Imagine if every man-made object in the Quarter was able to record what’s happening here—something we’ve already discussed—and project those sights, sounds, smells, and tastes into Colin’s hell.”
Kendell leaned forward and looked at the tabletop as if trying to see the results of Professor Yates’s ideas. “That’s why you don’t have any equipment set up. You don’t intend on using any.”
“In spite of your lack of participation in class, you always were the brightest student I ever had. As Luther said, we have all the energy we’ll ever need from what Colin has built in his hell. We just need to plug the electric guitar into the amplifier, so to speak.”
Kendell put her hand on the side of the desk like she was checking to see if a stereo speaker was working. “Now you’re talking in a language I understand. We have the instruments—every object in the Quarter—and we have the power. By using the buildings Agnes put in her hell, we even have the speakers, but what constitutes the amplifiers?”
“That’s what we need to figure out. With Myles’s ability to read energy, he can act as my test subject for fine-tuning the output. We’ll need our system to be perfect before going live.”
Kendell grabbed Myles’s hand the way he did hers when the subject turned to putting her in danger. “I’ve been on some of his psychometric journeys. The sense of reality is overwhelming. How can we be sure magnifying the experience, even as a test subject, won’t result in Myles losing his way back to our reality?”
Myles could already feel his head spinning. “That’s kind of the point, though. We want Colin so convinced he’s in this reality he doesn’t question what he sees.”
Kendell bit her lip. The action indicated to Myles she had an idea he probably wasn’t going to like. “You might be able to do more than just be Professor Yates’s guinea pig.” She giggled at her unintended pun. “I didn’t mean the voodoo version but the test-subject animal.”
Myles was too apprehensive to find the joke funny. “What are you thinking?”
“You and Baron Malveaux were connected for a time. I know it’s not an experience you like dwelling on, but you two did share a consciousness. And we still have access to the totem we used to contain him after the exorcism even though it’s in his hell. I know he’s no longer in the spirit jar, but we might be able to infect his thoughts with the thing.”
Myles had devoted himself to keeping Kendell safe, and he knew the protective feeling went both ways. But if she was willing to be used as bait, he had to accept a certain amount of danger as well.
“I’m not sure I see the connection,” Myles said.
She lowered her head as if not wanting to continue. “You need to inhabit Colin’s spirit jar. You’d only have to be connected to him for a moment for him to gain your psychometric ability. Delphine’s explanation of being confined to the totem is like being a genie in a jar. It really wouldn’t be that bad.”
“But that damn thing is in hell. How do you propose removing my soul and taking it to hell?”
Kendell held his hand tightly. “You’ll go with me. We’ve bonded our spirits enough times in your psychometric travels to know how well we fit together. Sharing a totem would be the same thing, except we’d be connected by voodoo instead of psychometry. You can share my spirit jar while Colin is chasing us. Plus, being in the totem should make it easier for you to pilot it through time and dimensions. You wouldn’t have to do it by remote control. I know enough about voodoo that once you’ve landed us in hell, we can leave the statue, and I can put you into his totem. I know you’ve never been in favor of even a part of me returning to hell. This is your chance to protect me as well as fulfill our plan for Colin.”
Though Myles hated the idea of being once again so intimately connected to evil, the prospect of first being bonded to Kendell gave him courage. “I suppose trying to guide your totem through dimensions without being in the thing would be problematic. The last thing I’d want to happen would be to lose you.”
Professor Yates began making some notes. “We already understand how those voodoo fetishes are powered—the wooden sculpture feeds its spirit jar. If I work in Delphine’s shop while you two are on your life-and-death journey, I can amp up the power to Myles’s body while he’s transferring his psychometric ability. Colin would get swept away into the experience.”
Too much of the plan left Myles feeling like he was agreeing to open-heart surgery conducted by medical students for a class project. “So Delphine cuts out my soul, and Kendell carries me into hell while I pilot the totem. She then confines me to the container that was once used to isolate the asshole who held me captive, and you turn up the power to my body like I’m strapped to an electric chair. What could possibly go wrong?”
“I’ll be right next to you the whole time,” Kendell said.
He knew she meant it as a comfort, but having her soul also stuck in the same totem, even if they were bonded together, didn’t make him feel any better about the operation.
* * *
Kendell was amazed at how fast the plan came together. A week after their meeting with the secretive member of the Church, she was sitting onstage at the Scratchy Dog with the band, Delphine, Professor Yates, and Myles, comparing notes.
Delphine emptied her canvas bag. Dozens of fabric voodoo dolls that looked like tourist-trap junk littered the stage. Each was attached to a piece of stiff white cardboard. “These are what I intend to use as my mirrors.” She picked up a small cloth human figure with buttons for eyes and yarn for its mouth and turned it over to show the writing on the flyer. “No one who calls New Orleans home gives these things a second glance. The fake invitation to a Halloween ball should be enough to get these into the hands of the people Kendell identified as Colin’s friends and family. They just need to touch the dolls for me to cast my spell. Since he’s not married and doesn’t have children, we don’t need to worry about him dealing with someone on an intimate level. Hell, Lincoln barely talked to his mother, and that’s as close a relationship as I’ve found. Once he became Colin, he pushed away the last of his few associates.”
“Makes sense,” Polly said. “He wouldn’t want rumors to get around that he’d lost his mind.”
Kendell passed out the dolls, one to each person, being careful to handle them by the paper backing. “Since he knows each of us, we’ll all need mirrors.”
Sanguine stared at her as if she expected an answer to her unasked question.
Kendell nodded. “I will, of course, have more than just a mirror, but it’s important that I look and sound like everyone else.”
Sanguine rubbed the doll between her hands like a washrag and tossed it back to Delphin
e. “That wasn’t my question, and you know it. You’d better tell everyone what you two have planned.”
Kendell was happy to let Myles take point. “We couldn’t come up with an alternative to using a piece of Kendell’s essence.”
The room erupted in objections, but Polly’s voice carried above the rest. “Then this whole plan stops right now.”
“Hang on,” Myles said. “I’m no happier about the situation than you are, but let Delphine explain what she’s come up with.”
Kendell could tell the band members were just waiting to veto anything Delphine had to say.
“We’re not leaving a part of Kendell in Colin’s hell,” Delphine said. “The piece of her we use will be retrievable. Think of it as more of a fancy lure than a worm on a hook. Once we’ve caught the fish, we can remove the lure. He won’t be swallowing the worm.”
“I’ll just be a cute little spinner.” Kendell stood and spun around so her dress lifted from her legs. As she’d feared, her joke fell flat.
Polly got up to address her. “You can’t possibly expect to go to hell all by yourself.”
The band had already proven their willingness to travel to hell and back for Kendell, but she couldn’t let them put themselves in harm’s way a second time. “I won’t be alone. In order to make Colin truly experience the virtual reality Professor Yates and Luther Noire have invented, he will need Myles’s psychometric abilities. That means Myles will literally be traveling with me in spirit. He also needs to be in the totem to pilot us between dimensions. Colin needs to go on a chase to think he’s moved beyond hell, even if he ends up right where he started.”
Sanguine’s hard stare was filled with worry. “And how do you two propose getting out of hell? It’s always easier to step into jail than to leave.”
Delphine picked up one of Kendell’s guitar picks and a cloth doll. “The plan all along has been to maneuver Colin back to the golden guitar pick that holds Kendell’s connection to the Malveaux curse.” She circled the doll around until it was next to the plastic triangle. “Myles will use his cane like a joystick to fly them through time and dimensions until Colin has followed them back to his hell. To get home, Kendell will use her golden guitar pick stuck on Colin’s totem that acts as the seventh gate between life and hell. Since part of her essence will be in hell and most of her spirit will still be with her body in life, she’ll be standing on both sides of the gate.”
Sanguine kept her arms folded over her chest. “That only holds true so long as Colin doesn’t realize the door back to the land of the living is standing wide open. He’s going to be pursuing her, so he’ll know what she’s doing. You’re talking about using her as bait, but your plan sounds to me like the scene from Jaws when the shark is leaping into the boat.”
Kendell held Sanguine’s hand. “That’s where you come in. I’ll be relying on you to make sure the two totems stay in Scratch and Sniff.”
Sanguine turned to Myles. “And what about you? Kendell might be able to open the seventh gate for herself, but to use the gates, you’d need to go through each one in order. And at the fifth gate, you’d be stuck on the wrong side. Only the seventh gate leads back to the land of the living.”
Myles held up his cane. “Delphine’s explanation made it sound like I was playing Kendell on the end of my cane like an angler with a fishing pole jerking a lure. Though none of us want to think of her as live bait, the metaphor works better if you think of me as the hook as well as the pole. Once Kendell is in hell and no longer needs my cane, I can reel my soul back to my body.”
“You’re really okay with this plan?” Polly asked.
“Nope,” Myles said. “But I don’t see an alternative. I’ve been over it a dozen times with Kendell and another dozen with Delphine. From what we’ve seen of the energy buildup in the World Trade Center, it’s inevitable that Colin will make a prison break. Hell isn’t strong enough to hold him. If we do nothing, he’s going to punch a hole between life and hell. Then we’ll have to deal with him as a devil among the living. The only enticement we have to lead him on our merry chase is Kendell.”
Sanguine put her hands on her hips. “Just for the record, I really hate step one of this plan.”
Kendell leaned toward her. “You’re step two, if that makes you feel any better.”
Sanguine got up from the stage to address the team. “It doesn’t, but at least I have a say in what happens. Before Myles allows his soul to be ripped from his body, he’ll escort me through Guinee to hell. Once there, I’ll return to my avenging-angel persona. Basically, Kendell will be playing good cop to my bad cop. Colin will pursue the evil minx while running from my heavenly being. Once we’ve completed our adventure, Myles will have to come back through Guinee to let me out of hell. Though time will still pass differently in life and hell, my being able to travel through time will allow us to coordinate a moment for my escape.”
“How will you know when Colin makes a run for it?” Kendell asked.
“First, he’ll need to sync up his time frame with what he thinks is ours but is really the voodoo totem with the cufflink and your spirit. To punch a hole through dimensions will involve the release of everything he’s got, so I expect a calm before the storm. He’ll need to turn off that toy train set he’s been playing with. The unsustainable accumulation of energy will send waves through my grandmother’s reality. I’ll be waiting at Scratch and Sniff for the arrival of your totem. You and Myles should be far enough ahead of Colin that as soon as I see you, I can race to the Scratchy Dog to give the signal to the band, who’ll be standing watch at the second gate. They’ll signal Professor Yates and Luther Noire to start up our virtual overlay.”
Kendell hoped after Sanguine had given the signal she’d leave hell, but no amount of pressure had made her agree to the exit timing. “So once the energy is released, Luther can throw the switch—or whatever he does—and we can gain use of the energy dynamo Colin’s developed.”
Professor Yates smiled at Sanguine as he took her place in the middle of the room. “I guess that’s where I come in.” He lifted his bottle of Abita Amber. “Since what we’re transferring into Colin’s hell is recordings of human energy, I thought the easiest way of differentiating what’s current from what’s past is to amplify what people are currently feeling. Through Myles’s contacts in the bartending world, we’ve been able to stock every drinking establishment in the Quarter with my turbo alcohol.” He took a drink. “It’s subtle but has a delayed kick.”
Myles distributed open bottles of beer to everyone. “We need your opinion on how it tastes. Not everyone drinks beer, of course, but our alcoholic addition can be used to spike any drink. Because of beer’s lower alcohol content, our addition would be more noticeable in a brew than a mixed drink.”
Kendell preferred a darker beer, and not just because Abita labeled theirs as Turbo Dog, though the name didn’t hurt. “Tastes about the same, but I can definitely notice the higher alcohol content. It’ll probably go over big with the college crowd. Do you intend to market it in some way?”
Myles shook his head. “I had Charlie do the legwork. His recommendation was to tell each bartender they would secure a loyal following among their patrons by spiking the drinks. After a shot or two, each one was more than happy to take the free bottles off his hands. Once we secure Colin and establish his reality, we might see how much further we can take the professor’s beverage. We’ll need to continue the virtual reality for the foreseeable future, so tourists will never consider New Orleans as a place for watered-down beverages. The increased reputation should secure our concoction’s place on every bar shelf.”
Polly leaned against the wall with her bandmates. “And other than yelling now to start the game, what do you want us to do? Wiggle our virtual bottoms to entice Colin to stay in his cage?”
Myles leaned in toward Kendell and whispered, “It’s not the worst idea.”
She nudged him in the side to keep quiet. “We need you to contact as many
of the other gate guardians as you can reach. This whole plan depends on Colin believing he’s actually returned to life. If he lets on that he suspects he’s being conned, we need to know. You’ll be our eyes and ears.”
31
Colin’s time machine atop the World Trade Center required constant tinkering. After living two lifetimes, he knew how time was supposed to flow. Seconds, minutes, and hours might be measurable, but some days and weeks passed faster than others. In spite of what the best clocks had to say on the issue, time was not constant. It was, however, supposed to be predictable.
He checked the brass analog gauge he’d salvaged from the old pumping station. The needle indicated he was a week behind Kendell and the gold cufflink but making up ground faster than intended. “Damn power fluctuations.”
He syphoned off more energy to the city’s streetlights. Under the influence of his dimension modifier, time moved like a streetcar rumbling down Saint Charles Avenue. For every smooth, consistent hour, there were five minutes where he was sure his machine was about to lurch off the tracks.
The circular room containing every form of analog control he could find reminded him of some Jules Verne classic novel. Computers were useless without the consistent passage of time. He’d never been a fan of steampunk, but his dislike stemmed more from its uselessness than the aesthetic.
He loved looking over his creation. Everything in his control room had a purpose. Some days he saw himself as the mad genius zeroing in on his prey, and others as the monkey pulling levers and turning knobs, hoping for some unseen reward.
The dust-covered piles of paper on the conference table needed attention. Catching up to Kendell was only the beginning. He needed a way to make the jump from his hell back to reality, but the prospect of using his supernatural abilities among the living too easily distracted him from his work. “One thing at a time. Once I link up times, I can focus on building the bridge.”