by Dan Glover
"Our Nate needs help, my precious Lauren. Karen recommends a clean break. She believes his recovery depends upon taking him away from here, away from any familiar place. Old America is somewhere he has never been. This adventure may help trigger a revival within his mind. Come away with us."
"My place is here, darling Natalia. The People need me, my gardens too. I will miss you dreadfully; please take care; promise me you will take no unnecessary risks."
"We'll be safe, never fear, sweet Lauren."
If they had but pressured her a little more, Lauren thought how she would have changed her mind and gone with them. Instead, a look of relief spread over both her lovers' faces when she told them she'd rather stay home.
She suspected it was all a plot between them. They never meant to take her along. Perhaps they had tired of her and the dull monotonous life at Orchardton Hall. Taking Lauren along would only remind the others of what they were leaving behind.
The sky lost its luster on the morning the Nautilus sailed. Lauren stood on the dock alongside Maon and Sileas, who she knew were disappointed as well that they were not asked to go along. She watched Ena standing apart from everyone. She looked so forlorn that for a moment she considered going to the girl but then Maon spoke.
"How long do you think they'll be gone, Lady Lauren?"
"I'm not sure, Maon... maybe a month, perhaps two."
"I think we should consider getting another ship ready."
"What would be the reason for such an undertaking?"
"Come along to breakfast with us, Lady Lauren. Perhaps I can explain myself better with a full stomach."
Lauren accepted Maon's proffered elbow as he led both women back to Orchardton Hall. Looking back over her shoulder she saw Ena still standing on the dock gazing out at the ocean. The Nautilus was but a white spot on the blue horizon moving steadily away. She knew it would soon evaporate all together and she wondered if it would ever appear again.
They had gone away on purpose. The problems with Nate's mind were but a pretence for the real reason behind their departure. Lily and Natalia wanted their own private time together. They were both obviously tired of Lauren and the castle that they all called home for the past century.
They were going to old America because it would be a new start for them, a chance to realize life apart from the chores that went along with living at an estate the size of Orchardton Hall. It wasn’t fair of them to leave her with the People, especially since they all knew exactly how she felt about them.
"You are not welcome here."
The day Karen and Marilyn had showed up at Orchardton Hall for the first time Lauren wanted nothing more than for them to leave. She wanted no part of the humans. If Lily and Natalia had left the choice up to her—and they seemingly had by allowing to confront the menace alone—they would be alone now, just the three of them, and happy.
She was being used. It was nothing new for her... all her life she had done for others what they couldn’t do for themselves and without thanks or expectations of anything in return. Now she was paying for her altruism once again. She wondered if she had a big red X on her forehead that everyone could see but her... go ahead and make a fool of me, I won't do anything about it other than mope.
She saw it all in a flash of insight and yet she simultaneously wondered if she was only deceiving herself once again. She had become good at telling others what they wished to hear rather than the truth and she knew she could fool herself in much the same manner.
What was the truth? The question bothered her more than it should. Was it simply a lie of convenience? Something told to pacify others? Lauren had lived countless centuries both below the Lake and above and yet she had never encountered the truth, any truth, other than how temporal the world was, how its sands shifted constantly while morphing into that which no one could have possibly foreseen.
Lauren could not help but feel like a fraud this morning. While Maon and Sileas busied themselves over the stove cooking a magnificent breakfast she watched the activity in a disinterested sort of way and wondered if such questions ever bothered the lovely couple in front of her or if it was simply her solitude that troubled her.
Each morning she went to the beach alone at sunrise to examine the horizon for signs. She knew it was too soon for the Nautilus to return yet the knowing didn’t stay the need to make sure. She recalled the days after Bilbla's disappearance and how she waited for centuries, always hopeful, and yet with the passage of time becoming morose and accepting of the worse.
If Natalia was correct, it was Lauren's son who was indirectly responsible for Nate's sudden illness. She knew no one had told Kāne why the sudden need for the trip to America arose. She also understood no one had to tell him. He already knew.
She forgot what a powerful influence were the males of her species. Their highly electric psyches unintentionally overwhelmed anyone within a kilometer. In those long ago days beneath Lake Baikal they made a habit out of living apart from the females in separate chambers with thick walls impregnated with an iron alloy meant to block their power.
"That’s the answer."
"What's the answer, Lady Lauren?"
She hadn’t realized that she spoke her thoughts out loud. Maon was looking at her with a quizzical smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes as if he thought she might be joking with him. Sileas was gazing at her too and she didn’t know whether or not to share with them how badly it troubled her that her son might be forced into leaving Orchardton Hall, or how Nate might choose to depart instead.
They were fortunate to have lived a sheltered life at Orchardton Hall. Born into a world empty of humans, neither Maon nor Sileas ever knew a time when they felt threatened by them... instead, they were looked upon as saviors. None of the People could exist without their presence. There was a sort of grand innocence to them that Lauren didn’t want to disturb with tales of the old days and how menacing the men of her species could be.
She saw them both giving her odd glances as they all sat down to their meal.
"Thank you for breakfast, my precious Maon and Sileas. I've been doing lots of thinking ever since Kāne appeared. My words were directed towards him more than you. Now, I must take my leave."
She knew her explanation did little to settle the questions and yet while it occurred to her how it might be possible to lessen and perhaps alleviate the dementia Nate suffered by lining the walls of Kāne's cabin with that same iron alloy she had no idea how to tell Maon and Sileas of her plan or why it was needed.
The day was a splendor, gray and damp, with low lying clouds promising an afternoon shower. She took a meandering walk about the estate investigating the fence to be sure there were no rents in it which might allow nocturnal predators access. It was a weekly ritual for her and one she enjoyed.
Once satisfied the fences were solid and instead of tracing her way back to the castle, Lauren took the path to the place where Kāne spent most of his time. She knew he had been isolated for centuries so she did not attempt to overstep her bounds by dropping in upon him unexpectedly. Rather, she allowed him to come to her. Lately, however, he has been negligent in his visits.
As she climbed the breakwater to gain sight of his cabin, she saw why.
Chapter 36—Whispers in the Dark
Kirk wondered whether the chance of finding what they were looking for was worth the risk of some sort of accident befalling one or all of them.
Old New York City was partly under water, its streets congested with debris, and all the bridges once spanning the rivers had collapsed. Dropping anchor in the harbor, Nate, Karen, and Kirk rowed to shore in the skiff.
"Do you know where the Cornell medical center is at, Karen? I thought we could go there first to see about the equipment you want to take back with us. Later, if we have the time, I'd like to investigate the art museums... to see if we can salvage any treasures."
Nate sat in a reverse position using the twin oars to expertly guide the skiff toward a concre
te abutment with rusted iron railings dipping into the ocean as Kirk sat in front and scanned the water ahead of them for dangerous obstructions and occasionally shouting out course corrections.
"I'm sure it's on Manhattan Island—just up from the beach—but that's all I remember, Mr. Nate. Everything has changed since those days. When we get to shore perhaps I'll recall more. About all I remember is the building being close to the ocean."
As they slalomed closer to shore Kirk noticed how the few buildings that remained standing looked like high green citadels. Climbing vines covered the exteriors, trees grew from broken windows, and bushes and shrubbery adorned the rooftops.
"Of course I'll go if you need me."
Kirk hated leaving Delilah behind on the Nautilus yet he was proud that Nate wanted him to come along. Each day out from Orchardton Hall he noticed how his friend seemed to be waking up a little more from a stupor. He became certain once Nate regained full use of his mental faculties that he would no longer wish to have anything to do with him.
"I'm not sure if we'll need you or not but I would rather have you along, just in case. This city is dangerous. We need to watch out for one another. I trust you, Kirk."
Kirk wanted to blurt out how the whole world was dangerous—how he was attacked by a tiger not three kilometers from Orchardton Hall. Delilah was the only person he shared his story with and now she was back on the Nautilus while he was getting ready to plunge into the unknown.
No one had ever said those kinds of words to him before... most people shunned him. There was the ever present belief that he was somehow less than human... that given enough rope he'd only end up hanging himself... just as his alcoholic and abusive father had foretold a century ago.
Kirk never realized he was growing up in a dysfunctional family at the time. He had no real friends to visit so his home was the template for his life. The fact that he was forced to sleep on a dirt floor with only an old horsehair blanket to cover up with meant no more to him than the lack of food and love.
He thought everyone lived like that. The day he learned that they didn’t was a sort of milestone in his life, and that day didn’t occur until he was twelve years old and had witnessed the death of both his parents as well as a goodly part of the village where he grew up.
Maybe it was because they were the last two boys on earth, but when Drummond began sharing his liquor and cigarettes with Kirk, he took it to mean they were friends. They weren't. Drummond wasn’t the sort of person to lift others up. He spent his short and nasty life pulling them down. Kirk hated to think it, but he was glad when he heard of Drummond's death.
Now, for the first time in his existence, Kirk felt a part of something larger than himself... like he was an important cog in the wheel of Orchardton Hall society. He owed it all to Nate. As they proceeded up the beach and into the dead city, he made a silent vow that he could die for his friend if need be.
They all carried rifles. Though they had yet to see any large predators on this continent they all knew there was a high likelihood they existed.
The concrete abutment was slanting at too great an angle to be scaled from the skiff. Nate steered past it to a multi-colored patch of beach speeding up to run the skiff ashore. Stepping onto shore Kirk saw how the beach was made up of clear rocks of many hues. He bent down to pick up of the rocks, staring at it intently. As he puzzled out the anomaly Karen spoke.
"It's broken glass. The ocean tides have worn it down to pebbles."
He knew she was right. A hundred years ago people probably sat on the concrete breakwater right on this very spot—winos and derelicts, no doubt—and tossed their empty bottles into the ocean where they broke against the rocks.
"I think that's Cornell over there."
Karen pointed to a three story red brick building half a kilometer off the beach while leading the way toward it; the landscape looked remarkably like a primeval forest with the sounds of myriad birds singing in tree tops and monkeys staring at them in stunned silence. The path they traveled looked well-worn. Kirk could not help but wonder what made it.
"Deer prints."
Karen pointed to fresh hoof prints in the sandy soil.
"And the wolves are following right behind."
Nate knelt down examining what looked to be enormous dog prints, some inside the hoof prints. Kirk saw other tracks too, even bigger than the wolf prints, too big to be any imaginable creature.
"What are those tracks, Mr. Nate?"
"Tigers, maybe lions... I can't tell. Whatever it is, it's big. These tracks are fresh too, no more than a few hours old. We better get what we want and be on our way back before dark."
Nate stood up to lead the way to the building that Karen had pointed out.
The steel door on the red brick building refused to give way to their kicks. The lower windows were barred but the metal looked rusty with age. Walking over to the closest window Nate worked loose a large driftwood branch entangled with other relics between the enormous roots of a ficus tree growing next to the building. Using it to pry open the bars he was able to gain entry into the basement.
Following Nate and Karen into the depths of the building Kirk felt the way he did when as a kid he had broken into a neighbor's house. A tingle ran up his spine knowing he shouldn’t be here and yet thrilled that he was. Karen played her flashlight beam over shelves crowded with glass jars.
"Let's leave our rifles here... I doubt we'll run into any predators inside this building. We can pick them up on the way out"
Nate gently laid down his rifle on a work bench as did Karen. Kirk would have rather kept his but he didn’t want to seem frightened so he followed suit. Pulling out his flashlight he shined the beam around the room more out of curiosity than any hope of finding anything of value.
This basement was clean... too clean. He expected thick spider webs and layers of dust an inch thick. Instead, it almost seemed as if someone was living here, taking care of the place. Another chill ran down his neck causing him to shiver. Karen opened a metal door revealing a room full of shelving clogged with jars and labels attached to them all.
"This must be the specimen room."
It looked to Kirk as if half dozen fetuses were floating in individual jars of reddish brown liquid. Karen picked up a jar, examined it, put it back, picked up another, and after examining it she handed it to him.
"Please bring this upstairs for me, Kirk. Be careful and don’t drop it. I think we can gain some valuable material from the specimen inside."
He wanted to refuse to carry the vile thing. Its eyes were open, its mouth too. He thought he saw tiny teeth when it smiled. It seemed alive. The liquid inside the jar sloshed viscously against the top which wasn't exhibiting signs of rust yet it must be old. He was sure it would leak all over him. Still, he took what Karen offered without complaint and followed her and Nate up the stairs.
The ground floor was as clean the basement, maybe cleaner. A stack of servers stood behind a counter that ran the length of the room. Nate had the look of a child in a candy shop when Kirk pointed it out to him.
"This equipment may still be intact, Karen. We should take the hard drives. I'll find them while you and Kirk round up the medical apparatus you want to bring back. Let's meet back here in fifteen minutes."
Karen led the way. After setting the jar down on the counter, Kirk followed her as they walked up five flights of stairs. At the top of the stairwell they emerged in a hallway which was so bright it momentarily blinded him. He told himself the sun must be shining through a window somewhere but he could not spot it. In a few moments his eyes adjusted enough to continue.
Walking down a long hallway he noted six doors, three on each side. Karen seemed to know where she was going as she walked to the last door on the left, turned the knob, and entered. He was panting now... out of breath, and happy he didn’t have to lug that heavy rifle up six stairways. There was an odor of disinfectant in the room which Kirk found odd though Karen didn’t seem to notice it.
Like the rest of the building this room was spotless. Shiny equipment sat on tables and shelves looking as if it was placed there yesterday. That old feeling of being somewhere he shouldn’t be came rushing back as he scanned the corners of the room for movement. He felt like they were being watched.
Kirk had no idea what he was looking at but it looked new and expensive. Karen had that delighted sparkle in her eyes—like Nate—as if she had just stumbled over her heart's every desire. She ran a hand over the stainless steel as if making love to it.
"This is an electron scanning microscope. Can you handle this part of it, Kirk? It might be heavy."
She pointed to a tall white tower larger on the bottom than on the top with tubes and electrical cords running out of it at all angles. A computer monitor sat next to it. Kirk tested the weight of the tower by tipping it on its edge.
It was heavier than it looked. Though he hated to admit it, he knew without a doubt that he could never successfully carry the damned thing down five flights of stairs to the ground floor all by himself. He couched his reply with an affirmative, the way he sometimes heard Nate do when asked to achieve that which was beyond his means.
"Yes I can carry it but it's awkward. I'd hate to drop it."
Karen sighed the way she always did when she was exasperated but he couldn’t help it. The least she could do was offer to help him carry it. She was the one who wanted the machine, not him. The disinfectant in the air was causing his stomach to turn flip flops and he breathed deeply to mitigate the nausea rising in his throat.
He told himself not to think that way... that was the old Kirk, always worried what was in it for him. The machine might well one day save a life... perhaps the life of someone he loved. He thought about telling Karen that he would manage about the same time she spoke up.
"Let's dismantle it then. We should be able to get it down the stairs. I'll help you."
He owed Karen his life. If not for her, he would have died long ago. It was a debt he had no idea how to repay but being nice was a good start. He was glad that he hadn’t griped about helping her like he might have done a year ago.