by T. Anderson
“Hmm. Think about it. If you heard anything that makes sense…” Stella was digging for information. She was detecting a common thread between her last few lucid dreams. It was almost like a continuing story. But nothing about the scenes from the story meant much to her. She must be missing something.
“Quick-solve? Vick-silv? Does that mean anything? I don’t know…you repeated the same thing over and over a few times, but I don’t know what it was. Sorry, Stella. I’ll think about it, okay?”
Just then, Gunnar opened the door to the small exam room. He looked pleased to see Stella awake and speaking. The doctor followed him with a laptop computer in his hands and sat down at the small desk in the corner.
“How’re ya feeling?” Gunnar asked hesitantly. “You gave us quite a scare.”
“Better, but tired,” she replied, trying to sound strong and confident. Gunnar glanced at the doctor who was clicking on his keyboard.
“Stella, I’m going to be straight-forward with you because you deserve that. You’ve been through so much—not just recently—but really, your entire life. I know you’re tough enough to handle this. Okay?”
“I know it’s bad. You don’t have to sugar coat it. Spit it out. I can take it.”
Gunnar nodded to the doctor to take over. He swiveled his computer around so the screen faced the twins. They squinted at it to make out what he was pointing out. “This mass right here is a tumor, Stella. It’s attached to your pineal gland. I can’t be 100 percent sure, but I think it’s slow-growing. It’s most likely been present for quite some time—years maybe. This is the reason for your headaches and your seizure. You’ve probably been experiencing many other symptoms as well but you just didn’t recognize them. Like dizziness, double-vision, blacking-out, mood swings. Some patients even experience psychological disturbances, like paranoia, disrupted sleep patterns. The list is long.”
Stella wasn’t as shocked as they’d anticipated. Digesting the explanation and thinking about the doctor’s words, she stared at the pictures of her brain. Yes, she thought, it all made logical sense. She was fine with it. It was almost as if she’d already known and accepted the diagnosis long ago. But suddenly she remembered Aron—fragile, innocent.
“Air? You okay?” She squeezed her hand. Aron was not okay, but she was being strong for Stella, like she’d asked.
She turned back to the doctor and Gunnar. “Yes, the more I think about it, I have had a lot of those things you mentioned. I get it. So, what are we talking about here? Am I going to die?” Overtly direct in her questioning, the doctor was taken aback by her attitude. She was very matter-of-fact and business-like.
“There is really no way to tell right now, Stella. This type of tumor is virtually untreatable. We cannot biopsy it without taking astronomical risks. Surgery to remove it is entirely out of the question. We can monitor your progress and estimate your survival. And there are some drugs that we can try that may slow the growth. The fact that your symptoms are amplified with the introduction of the seizure tonight, it’s a signal that we need to take steps immediately. We will certainly be able to manage your pain now that we know what we’re dealing with. We’ll do everything we can.”
That was it. She’d heard enough. Now, more than ever, Stella knew that her time here on this earth was not going to last much longer. She could feel it, sense it deep within her core. She couldn’t waste any more time on pointless, meaningless things. She needed to use her time very wisely. Starting now.
“Okay. Thank you, doctor. You’ve been very kind and helpful. I’m ready to go now.” They all looked from her to each other in bewildered amazement.
“All right, Stella. Here is a prescription for some medication. If you have any questions or concerns, you can call me.” The doctor finished scribbling, ripped the sheet from the pad and handed it to Gunnar. He patted Stella’s leg sympathetically. She didn’t require much bedside manner. She was a unique patient. He wasn’t used to this, and was appreciative. “Gunnar, can we talk outside for a moment?”
“Sure, Doc. Stella, just wait a minute and we’ll help you out to the car, okay? And…let’s wait to tell Mom in person—no texts or calls,” he said, looking to Aron as he finished. The two men stepped out of the room to tie up the loose ends. A few minutes later they returned, but Stella had already managed to sit up and was ready to go with Aron. After shuffling out to the car, they headed home.
It was late and traffic was light. The three were solemn at first. But Stella’s mind was active, thoughtful. “Gunnar?” she asked meekly.
“You can call me Dad, Stella—if it’s okay with you.”
“Okay. Dad?” Her words invoked a brightness that brought a much needed smile to their faces.
“Yes, Stella?” He allowed himself to laugh. He needed to laugh.
“Do you know the “Legend of the Alchemist’s Assistant”? Aron mentioned it a few weeks ago and she thought you would remember the story.”
“The Alchemist’s Assistant?” he coughed. “Oh man, I haven’t heard that story in years… let me think.” He paused to concentrate for a few minutes. It almost seemed like he was pondering whether to tell the story or not.
“It’s okay, if you can’t remember it. I just thought…” Stella didn’t want to push. They were all tired. Aron was sad and silent. She didn’t care if she heard the story. Maybe another time.
“No, no—it’s fine. I remember it. Let me see. Okay. Well, the story goes like this. A long time ago, I think the late 1500s or early 1600s, a Norwegian Alchemist was appointed by the King of Denmark to investigate and develop his theories of astronomy and such. The King gave him an entire island to set up his observatories and laboratories. He moved there with his family. The Alchemist had such big ideas that he hired people to live and work there to help him with his work. There were students, artisans, all kinds of people. The island was like a small village.
“The Alchemist discovered an excellent Assistant, who brought his beautiful, young bride to live on the island. The Assistant’s wife apparently suffered from terrible headaches and ailments. Eventually she became so debilitated by sunlight that she only ventured outside at night. The night became her day. The Alchemist conducted most of his work at night, so they crossed paths often. He grew fond of the young woman and admired her intelligence. She became a student of the Alchemist. He taught her about the earth, the stars, the galaxy. She was one of his best pupils.
“The story goes that the young woman also befriended another night-owl on the island, the Clairvoyant, who predicted that the young woman would not live past the next five lunar cycles.
“Legend has it that the Alchemist also dabbled in the study of medicine. He performed some examinations on the young woman to try to figure out what caused her such pain.” Gunnar stopped here. He took a deep breath, considering before he continued with the story. Aron and Stella were both completely enthralled and wanted more.
“Well, it’s said that the Alchemist declared that the young woman had a growth deep in her brain that was causing the pain. He approached her husband, the Assistant, and encouraged him to begin research that might alleviate her suffering. As the Alchemist suggested, the Assistant began experimenting with mercury.” The moment Gunnar said the word, Stella’s heart began to flutter. Mercury! It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? She needed to hear more of the story. She slowed her thoughts to focus on Gunnar’s voice.
“The Alchemist believed mercury was the ‘First Matter’ from which all metals on earth were formed. He saw it as a medicinal cure for many ailments. As the Assistant struggled with his experiments, his wife grew weaker. He didn’t want to risk hurting her, so he had to be sure it would work before he even considered treating her. It was apparent that her health was failing. He was determined to save her. They had just begun their life together. He wanted a family—children, to grow old together.
“One day, the young wife collapsed. She was obviously near death. The Assistant lifted her in his arms and
rushed her to the laboratory. He persuaded the Alchemist, who had grown very fond of the young woman, to help him perform the surgery. The Alchemist knew that the experiments had not been perfected, but reluctantly agreed. It was her only hope. The Assistant was distraught with emotion, so the Alchemist took charge and called upon his own wife to help him. The Alchemist’s wife, who was nearly two months pregnant at the time, administered the anesthetic cocktail and monitored the girl’s pulse during the procedure.” Gunnar paused again. “This part gets a little graphic. Are you sure you want me to finish?”
“Are you crazy?” Aron was hanging by a thread. She and Stella were both on the edge of their seat, waiting to hear what would happen next. “Tell, tell!” Aron demanded. She didn’t remember the story being this good.
“Okay, okay. But remember, you asked for it. The Alchemist drilled a small hole in the young woman’s skull with a crude, medieval tool. He then inserted a thin glass tube deep into her brain, as close to the growth as he could manage. When it was in position, he placed a small droplet of mercury into it. They watched it quickly roll down the tube. Just as the mercury made contact with the tissue, the girl’s pulse failed. The Alchemist’s wife sadly declared that she had passed away and nothing more could be done.
“Well, the Assistant flew into a blind rage before anyone could contain him. In one swift movement, he pulled the long glass tube from his dead wife’s skull. It was covered in a mixture of her blood, brain tissue, and mercury. He reeled around and plunged the tube deep into the abdomen of the Alchemist’s wife. Straight into her womb! She fell to the floor in sudden agony.” Gunnar’s voice had taken on the excitement of the story. The twins were breathless.
“When the Assistant realized what he’d done, he fled the laboratory, ran from the village and disappeared into the dense island forest. Miraculously, the Alchemist and his other helpers were able to save his wife, as well as her unborn twins.”
“Twins?!” the girls both exclaimed.
“Yes, that’s how the story goes. I’m not making it up, I swear,” Gunnar answered. He continued without being asked. “The Alchemist and his wife mourned the loss of the young woman, who had become like family to them. Out of respect, they named a daughter after her. They never heard from the madman Assistant again. It’s said that the Alchemist and his wife lived many happy years together and had many other children. Their special daughter always reminded them of the beautiful young student who helped with their important work of mapping the stars for the King. Later, legend has it, the Clairvoyant publicly declared that the daughter was truly a reincarnation of the young woman.”
“What happened to the Assistant?” Stella asked.
“Well, as the story goes, years later the Alchemist suddenly died—not of old age, but of a poisoning. Some say that the Assistant had returned, snuck into a party, and slipped a lethal dose of mercury into his wine—that it was murder. Descendants of the Alchemist believe that the daughter was indeed a reincarnation of the young woman. They believe the Assistant became obsessed with her and lay in wait for the girl to come of age, so he could pursue her again and make her fall in love with him. But rumor has it that this daughter, too, was dying from ailments of the brain, and when the Assistant discovered this, he was so bitter that he took revenge on the Alchemist for killing his wife.”
“Wow! Do you think that’s really what happened?” Aron asked.
“Air, it’s just a story. Don’t be silly,” Gunnar scoffed. He checked his blind spots before exiting the highway. They were almost home. “Sorry to change the subject, but do you want me to tell the others, Stella?”
“Sure. Okay. Thanks.” She really wasn’t worried about telling them. Her mind was on something else. The legend. Didn’t Gunnar see how closely this resembled her own story? Her inner voice told her to be on her guard. There remained only one question she needed him to answer before she never spoke of it again.
“Gunnar—oh, sorry, Dad?” Stella asked, trying to sound naïve. He looked at her in the rear view mirror. “In the story, did the girl have a name?”
He paused, as if in thought. “I’m not sure if I ever heard any names in the story. Strange….sorry.” They were all quiet until they reached the house.
Stella couldn’t get over how the legend sparked something inside of her. It was almost as if it was about her. But how could that be? It was impossible! Though after all she’d been through recently, was it really impossible? Her instincts told her otherwise. She closed her eyes and pieced her mysterious dreams together. Gunnar’s voice echoed in her head, as if narrating scenes from a movie. The dream of looking out at the moon across the sea, while her lover whispered in her ear. Was he the Assistant? The Teacher showing her the mercury, was he the Alchemist? Even in her accelerated state of confusion, she could not deny the connections. She thought hard to recall if she’d ever heard this story before. Maybe when she was younger? Could Petra have once told her? No. She was sure she’d never heard it before.
Stella’s head was throbbing, but she would not rest. At this point, there was no time to relax. Coasting through the motions, she barely heard Gunnar explain her diagnosis to Cybele. The sobs sounded like background music and she felt transparent when the arms wrapped around her. It was like an out of body experience. It was only Aron’s voice that brought her back to the room.
“Stella needs to lie down, Mom. It’s okay. Let her go. I’ll help her to bed.” Aron peeled Cybele’s fingers from Stella’s sweater. She handed Cybele over to her father for consoling. She took Stella’s hand and led her to her bedroom. Aron knew what Stella was thinking about. She was thinking the same thing. When they were alone, with the door closed behind them, she said, “Yes, Stella. It was you. I see it too. I can see your dreams.”
“You see my dreams?”
“Just now. In flashes. I see you on the island. You look different, but I know it’s you.”
“What does it mean, Air?” asked Stella, pale and ghostly.
Aron answered with a wisdom that emerged like never before. “We’ll know soon. Lie down now, Stella.” Zombie-like, Stella did as she was told. Her body begged her to sleep. Her mind would not allow it. She needed a plan, at least a basic one. There were so many questionable threads she needed to tie up, but there was one thing she knew for sure. If it was the only thing she must do before she dies, she must stop Erling Steinar from killing any more innocent people.
13
The Plan
When the early Saturday morning meditation was concluded, Dane and the twins packed into Vern’s borrowed car and headed back to campus. Cybele begged Stella to stay and rest for a few days, but Stella refused. She needed to see Vern. She realized that completely annulled the boundaries she’d worked so hard to establish with him, but things had changed. Knowing she would need his help was really the only reason she was returning to school at all. The last thing on her mind right now was school. For Stella, there would be no need, no point of it. Once she felt that her plan was set, she would leave and never go back. She had already accepted her destiny—and college wasn’t in it.
Dane called Vern on his cell and he was waiting in the lot to pick up his car. No one had told him yet about Stella’s tumor. She wanted to tell him herself. When she asked to speak with him in private, he looked pleasantly surprised.
“So, what’s up Stella?” he asked when they were walking alone.
“I have something to tell you, Vern.”
“Sure…you can tell me.” He was expecting further rejection.
“There is no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it.”
Vern looked perplexed. What else could possibly be going on now? Had MONAD contacted her—Dr. Myra Hadrian, perhaps?
“I have a brain tumor, Vern.”
Initially he thought it was a joke. But when Stella remained stone-faced, his hand went up to his mouth and he froze. He was not at all prepared for this. It was like a broken record that just kept playing and playing over a
nd over and never stopped. His eyes darted around—from the ground, to a tree, to a building, back to the ground. He couldn’t look at her. Stella thought, for a second, that he might crack, lose his mind entirely. She couldn’t let that happen because she would need him. She had to keep him grounded, level.
“Vern! Listen to me. Don’t act so surprised. You had to know this would happen. It’s fate, and I can’t expect to escape it. Do you hear me?”
He slowly brought his eyes to her face, fighting to keep hold of his sanity. “This can’t be. No, it just can’t be. Why? Is this some kind of sick cruel joke being played on me? This is not supposed to be happening. No!”
“It’s not a joke, Vern. I know this is painful for you. It is for me too.” She was literally reliving this illness for God knows how many times now. “I need you to stay calm, okay? I need to play the cards differently this time. I need your help.”
“My help! I tried that the last time, Stella, don’t you get it?” Vern threatened, his voice becoming heated. “What more can I do? Try again and send you to another death sentence? No. There must be another way. We have to get you to a doctor—there will be some kind of treatment we can do…something!”
“Vern, relax. I’m not asking you to do anything like that. I have no intentions to try the Aeon Project on myself, if that’s what you’re thinking. There’s no way I would ever ask you to do that again. Don’t you see? I don’t want this again. It has to end. And treatments are out of the question. There is nothing that will help me at this point—it’s just a matter of time. And I want to use that time wisely. I’m asking for your help with something else. Something bigger.”
“What do you mean something bigger?”
“I’m putting a plan together to bring down Erling Steinar and MONAD. It’s the only thing I need to do before…” She didn’t want to say it.
“Before you die!”