by Ren Garcia
It didn’t like being pushed and reared up aggressively, exposing its coiled-up fangs. It hissed slightly.
Stenstrom replied in kind. He waved his hands and produced two lime green Holystones, and two red ones. He threw a green one at the terrifying creature and webbed it up solid, its legs flexing feebly as it tried to free itself.
Stenstrom then threw a red Holystone, and the webbing caught fire, the room soon full of the smell of roasted demonweb.
The four people in black then clapped in approval. “Well done, Lord Stenstrom. Well done. We had been told that you can create Holystones in the fashion of Tyrol sorcery, and that such things are forbidden by the Sisterhood.”
Stenstrom headed for the door. “Yes, and with that I bid you a fond farewell. I wish nothing to do with this club or you lot in particular.”
Lady Alitrix waved her hand and the door locked with a heavy click. “But, you’ve only just arrived …”
He tried the door and it was locked tight.
One of the gentlemen in black stood, wound back and threw something which spiraled through the air. A rectangular card impacted the door frame near Stenstrom’s face and stuck fast in the wood. The card was adorned with several colorful numbers and letters:
“The night has only just begun, Lord Belmont. We insist you share it with us,” Lady Alitrix said.
After a moment, using tools unseen and speed unheard of, he had the lock picked, and the heavy door swung open. He marched out.
A trapdoor opened beneath him, and he fell down a slide, plunging into pitch black, emerging in a rather shapeless cave-like room that looked like a dungeon. The irregular walls were made of boulder-like, black rock mortared with ash cement. Five archways, each barred by a stout portcullis, led off in different directions.
In the center of the room was a lone figure standing in white.
“Be our guest, Lord Belmont,” came Lady Alitrix’s accented voice from above. “However, you shan’t wish to stay for long.”
He could hear and smell gas entering the chamber from hidden nozzles at various locations. He ran to one of the archways and looked through the portcullis. He could see a passage leading off in some twisting direction before it shortly disappeared into darkness. Stenstrom could feel a breeze passing through the bars. He rattled the portcullis—it was solid and locked to the ground.
“Pick a way out, but be warned: only one way leads to a happy ending.”
Covering his mouth with his sleeve, he ran to the figure in white in the center of the room. It appeared to be a Sister. She was in white robes, headdressed in the usual fashion. She stood silently pointing at one of the archways.
“Sister, Sister?” he said through his sleeve.
She didn’t respond. Upon closer inspection, she was a well-made, fully dressed life-sized dummy.
The gas was quickly getting into his head. He ran to the archway the dummy was pointing at. It was an archway guarded by a solidly placed locked portcullis. Again, a twisting passageway beyond led off into the cool darkness and disappeared.
He looked around, trying to figure some way out of this.
Beyond the portcullis, about four feet away, he noticed a panel had been cut into the stony wall. A large round button sat in the center of the panel. The button must open the portcullis.
He reached out for it, but it was beyond his grasp. He shook his hand and produced a MARZABLE. He lined up the shot and threw, hitting the button easily.
The portcullis quickly rose up into a slot in the ceiling.
Coughing, he made his way into the twisting passageway beyond. He could feel a stiff breeze pulling on him from around the bend.
Stenstrom saw something carved on the floor as he took his first step. It was “IV”, the ancient numerology for the number 4.
He suddenly felt an extreme sense of danger. Lady Alitrix and her lot seemed to have a great apathy for the Sisters. Here was a dummy of a Sister pointing at an archway labeled IV; therefore, he reasoned, this door was probably not the way to go to get Lady Alitrix’s “happy ending.” Something really bad must be waiting for him at the end of this passage.
Holding his breath, he took a quick glance around. He saw, carved into the floor before the other archways: I, II, III, and V.
He recalled the card the gentleman had thrown into the door frame. The card must contain a clue as to which archway he was supposed to take. He recalled seeing I, II, III, IV, V, along with some other lettering. The IV had a star next to it, if he was remembering correctly. The V had a “P,” and the rest had “m’s.”
The gas was clogging his brain.
He didn’t have any time to bat this around. IV must be a starting point of some sort, hence the star. V was also different somehow with its “P.” It made sense to him to add V to IV, five “plus” four, giving him nine. Obviously there was no archway labeled nine, so he assumed the rest of the numbers with the “m’s” might mean to subtract; III, “minus” II, minus I from nine was three.
He moved to the archway labeled III. That must be the correct way to go.
Wait …
Didn’t one of the numbers have two “m’s” next to it? That might indicate that that number needed to be subtracted from twice.
Which one was it?
It was I or II—he was sure of it.
It was I—it had to be I. Then, if his gas-clouded reasoning was correct, the archway he wanted was II.
He didn’t give himself any time to mull it over. He went to the II archway, produced another MARZABLE, hit the button, and the portcullis rose up into the ceiling.
He ran into the narrow, twisting corridor and went around the bend.
He was instantly sucked off his feet by a powerful updraft and pulled through a dark hole in the ceiling. He seemed to be going up for a time in a twisting fashion, and then started going down.
He emerged through a small door and landed in a sea of pillows. He looked around. He was in a richly furnished room lying on a vast couch. The room was lit in pleasing yellow light and soft music played. On the other side of the room, a great number of people stood holding drinks and smoking slim cigarettes. The four people in black he’d seen in the sanctum sanctorum stood at the front. They were wiping the black paint from their faces.
After a moment, somebody said “Bravo!” and everybody clapped.
Stenstrom pushed the pillows aside. “What is this?” he demanded, his brain hurting a little from the gas.
Lady Alitrix, her face free of black paint, and her accent gone, spoke. “You pass, Lord Belmont. You passed our test, and well done! You are truly full of surprises!”
“You tried to murder me tonight—a demonweb, a gas-filled dungeon!”
“The demonweb is a very convincing and very expensive robot we use. We call him Arthur and he’s been ‘killed’ lots of times in the past. The gas in the dungeon is a harmless sedative—it might have caused you a bit of a headache later on should you have not escaped.”
“And the alternate routes out of the dungeon, what of those?”
“Oh, one of them leads to a lesser, Outer Sanctum room somewhere here in the building—you would have been ‘in’, but you would have been in an inferior circle. The rest head out into the alley—one of them, the worst one, lands you in a dumpster full of food refuse. Should you have taken any of the alley ones, you would not have been offered a membership in our club.” She smiled brightly. “You, however, picked the good door—you made it to the Inner Sanctum. I had a feeling you would be successful and was pulling for you.”
Lord Bannaster stepped forward. “We do enjoy a bit of theatricality from time to time. We enjoy challenging each other—but all in good fun, if you’ve the intellect to appreciate it. We must say, we were talking before you arrived—we have no idea how you did some of the things you accomplished tonight, most impressive. We’ve heard about Tyrol sorcery of course, but to see it firsthand, to witness it in action—remarkable! People usually slay Arthur with a weapon pulled fr
om the wall, or with Vith Gifts—we’ve seen those on occasion. But you—you actually appeared to conjure Holystones from thin air! And the locked door—you were supposed to fall through a trap door inside the sanctum sanctorum, but you got through it so fast we had to use the extra one outside the door. Again a spectacular display.”
“And the locked portcullis? How was I to open those without sorcery?”
Lady Alitrix sat down next to him. Her real voice was rather pleasing, and, smiling, she was a beautiful young woman. “If you had inspected the mannequin of the Sister in the dungeon, you would have found that she is held upright with a long stick which you could have pulled up out of the floor and run through the portcullis to press the button. Again, you did something we’ve never seen before.”
“We call her Alice,” Lord Bannaster said.
“And I suppose the ‘Stick up the Sister’s butt’ is a metaphorical reference to your continued disdain for the Sisterhood?”
Lady Alitrix smiled. “I guess so, yes—excellent point! So, Lord Belmont, we would like to invite you to join the Inner Sanctum of the Bones Club. It’s a large club—this simply being the Bern Chapter. There are chapters all over the League. Here, we gather often to delight each other, help each other when it’s needed, and, on occasion, to challenge one another with intrigues—all in good fun. Helps keep the mind sharp. When you’re a member of the Bones Club, you may rest assured that, wherever you go, you have friends waiting for you.”
She looked at him. “So, what do you say? We’d love to have you.”
Stenstrom’s first inclination was to walk out and leave these people behind. However, in reviewing the events of the evening, he had to admit he had fun—these people had him completely fooled. He could picture himself bringing Lilly here.
“Sure, why not? And call me Bel. All my friends do.”
* * * * *
Stenstrom had made great strides as the year progressed. No longer an aloof, friendless man about the school, he was now a well-liked and active member of the Bones Club. He even participated in the selection ritual, painting and dressing himself in black and sitting in the sanctum sanctorum, as various prospectives came and went, sometimes using his Tyrol sorcery to liven things up. He was amazed how few people actually made it through the process, almost all either ending up in the alley or curling up and becoming incapacitated in the dungeon.
He had a new best friend as well—Lady Alitrix. She was like a dual person—in the Bones Club, she was rather cool and sultry, exuding confidence and wit. She asked him to show her his skills and was amazed how he could make things appear and disappear with only a shake of his hand. Even up close, watching intently, she had no idea how he did it. She wanted to know, but he was mum.
Never tell … his mother’s voice rang in his head. Never give up your secrets.
Away from the club, however, out in the school, she was timid, shy, and uncertain. She cried out for attention and positive reinforcement, becoming almost sick with worry when she didn’t get it.
They became lovers at her suggestion one evening as they gazed through the telescopes at the top of the sanctum’s dome; just a bit of harmless fun between friends, no entanglements, no expectations. Just two people enjoying each other; that’s what she said.
Lady Alitrix’ thinly veiled insecurities came shining through as they made love.
“Do you like that? Do you like that?” she often said, seeking affirmation throughout the encounter.
After the first awkward session, Stenstrom was certain Lady Alitrix wouldn’t want to repeat it—she seemed to not have enjoyed a moment. But, she kept coming back for more—always insistent and demanding, quickly fading to lost and fragile as the deed wore on. She liked most of all to go into the “dungeon” and have sex on the stony floor with the dummy “Alice” watching.
One thing that was always a given, at least in Stenstrom’s mind, was that when Lilly came calling, Alitrix would have to retreat. They were, after all, just friends. And, for a time Alitrix was agreeable, disappearing without a second word whenever Lilly chose to grace him with an appearance. After a year or so, Alitrix began to change her tune a little. She once suggested she be allowed to accompany him and Lilly during her visits—she’d be quiet, simply a friend hanging about, and Stenstrom agreed. However, the two ladies quickly began sniping at each other.
“Is this ‘person’ someone you are experimenting with, Bel?” Lilly asked, rather bluntly.
“What we share together is none of your business,” Alitrix said.
“Quite true; nevertheless, I’d hope, Bel, you might select someone a little more to your level.”
Alitrix blushed and was clearly hurt. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, look at you. Rather scrawny and not overly pretty—and clearly not a great intellect or wit either, like a little puppy dog nipping at his heals. Making love to a handsome man like Bel must be … humbling for you at best.”
Alitrix sat there and shivered. Stenstrom had never heard Lilly speak so cruelly.
18 The Paymaster Solution
Stenstrom had cast aside all of his old inhibitions. He’d gone his whole life with virtually no friends—his parents, and his two youngest sisters were all the people he knew. Thus far, in the Bones Club he found himself being liked, accepted, and he functioned as a vibrant member. He often invited his sisters Virginia and Lyra to his club meetings, and was delighted when they were able to come, for seeing the two of them mingling and enjoying themselves made him feel good. As Lilly had hoped, he was finally enjoying himself, out every evening with his new friends, Alitrix being his closest.
And, his encounter with the Astral Traveler was a mere distant memory—his various warnings and protections went unused.
All of the old baggage he carried with him was, for the most part, gone.
Except for one thing.
Many members of the club often arrived at 22 Stang wearing brand new Fleet uniforms—they having been newly admitted. Stenstrom looked at them, wearing the fine blue coats and hats he knew so well, and all of his old dreams returned. His desire to soar the stars and see what was there had never really left him—just been beaten into place by a knife in his chest.
Listening to his friends chatter about what ship they had joined and where they were going made him maudlin—sometimes even angry.
What was he to do?
* * * * *
A knock came at the door of his apartment. Stenstrom had quit 22 Stang early that evening, feeling rather sorry for himself as he listened to Lord Wills of Narrow talk of shipping out on the Fleet scouting ship Centerville at term’s end. He’d felt rather jealous.
He assumed it was Alitrix, come to see what was wrong with him.
Stenstrom opened the door, and there was Lilly, elegant in her pink Gamboa gown and parasol. “Hello, Bel,” she said, all smiles.
Stenstrom hadn’t expected her, but, as usual, Lilly came and went as her whims dictated.
And she was always welcome.
They embraced warmly in the hallway, and then kissed. “Is this a bad time?” she asked. “Is your little puppy dog here?”
“That’s not a nice thing to say, Lilly.”
“No, I suppose it isn’t. I’m sorry.”
They sat down and caught up. He told her that he now had many friends, mostly from the Bones Club, that Lilly had suggested he join. He told her about the dark, posh confines of that exclusive club, where he did many silly things that the others in the group thought were shocking—’look’, they gasped, ‘look what he just did’, and the Sisters would be outraged.
Lilly clapped and listened, glad her Bel was making friends and enjoying himself. “The Bones Club, though a bit off-putting at first, is a fine club to be in. All of the best people belong to it—you’ll find wherever you go, you’ll have friends from the club waiting for you. I knew you would spread your wings there.”
Still, he couldn’t hide anything from Lilly. “You outwardly appear to
be in fine spirits, but you can’t hide anything from me. I can tell something is troubling you—tell me, please. I’m here just for you.”
Stenstrom laughed and shook his head. “Nothing goes past your notice, does it? Just silliness really. I saw some of my friends at the club had joined the Fleet. They were wearing their newly fitted uniforms and discussing the ships they were soon to join. I felt left out. I felt jealous. I don’t know, Lilly. Sometimes I have thoughts of clearing out of school all together, leaving Kana and heading to who knows where.” He laughed. “I’m sorry—just dreams I used to have.”
They stepped into the apartment, Lilly hugging him tightly. He could hear her heart beat, and he thought it an odd chain—Alitrix drawing strength from him, and he drawing strength from Lilly, one person feeding on the next.
Lilly was the perfect tonic for his soul; with a fresh dose of Lilly he could go on, do his schooling, entertain his new friends, and become the dreary, land-locked man his mother had envisioned for him.
That evening, Lilly put an odd seed into his head.
They finished the fine meal that Stenstrom had brought in from the kitchens of the Bones Club—room service yet another perk of membership—and asked if Lilly wanted to step out, to see Bern, possibly enjoy a theater or go to 22 Stang and sit.
Instead, they fell into each other’s arms and retired to his bedroom.
* * * * *
“So, just who is this Lady Alitrix?” Lilly asked as they lay together in the dark, entwined.
“A friend,” Stenstrom said in return.
Lilly considered the thought. “I did tell you that you are free to seek your heart; still, I cannot help but feel a little jealous,” she said. “That girl certainly didn’t seem up to your level. I almost thought to challenge her.”
“Challenge her? You mean to a duel?” He was alarmed.
“Yes, but don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt her.”
“She is a fine person and I cherish her friendship. So, if you feel that strongly are you prepared to end this five year experiment, Lilly?”