by N. P. Martin
The crowd cheered at that, then settled down when Jordan made a movement with her hand. "Now let me welcome the man who will lead the charge in this revolution of ours." Her head turned to the side of the stage. "My father, Dr Gordon Grayson."
From stage left, a tall man in his sixties wearing a robed outfit came walking out, and the people in the hall started cheering and clapping, including Sam beside me, who judging by the awe and reverence in his face, looked at Grayson as some sort of messiah figure. Everyone in the room did, in fact, except me of course. I merely clapped and put on a polite smile as I was aware of Jordan staring at me from the side of the stage as if gauging my reaction to the man who was not only her leader but also her father, which come to think about it, was no great surprise. Her devoutness to the cause and seriousness of manner started to make sense now. She was Daddy's little girl, and she tried hard to please him.
Gordon Grayson stood for probably longer than he should have so he could absorb the adoration being thrown at him by his followers. If you're familiar with cult behavior, you will know scenes like this are commonplace. Cult leaders enjoy giving sermons to their followers, not just to refresh the faith of said followers each time, but also to bask in the messianic glory that came from the blind adoration of people who couldn't steer their own ship and needed a captain like Grayson to do it for them. I couldn't help but wonder if these people could see the irony in what they were doing. SciCane was all about self-governance and autonomy, yet the people involved were completely subservient to the hierarchy put in place by Grayson and his daughter. As I sneaked the occasional glance at Jordan, I also wondered if she was really as committed to the cause as she seemed, or had she just been brainwashed by her father like everyone else here? Time would tell, I guess.
Eventually, Grayson--dripping with the false modesty of a true false prophet--made motions with his arms as he quieted the crowd. Soon, the hall was completely silent, and you could have heard a pin drop as everyone waited with fervent anticipation on their leader to speak.
"Comrades," Grayson said in a voice that came across as strong and self-assured. Nice touch addressing the sheeple as his comrades, I thought. Make them all think he's right there with them while deflecting from the fact that he is really ruling over them like any other despot. "The time has come to put our plans for change into action. It is time to awaken the sleeping tiger so we can finally hear it roar!"
The crowd cheered at that. By sleeping tiger, I assumed Grayson was referring to the clueless masses, the Sleepwalkers. Not a good idea, I immediately thought. Tigers had a tendency to bite when you rudely woke them from slumber.
There was no doubt Grayson played the messiah role well. He came across as self-deprecating, yet strong and in control at the same time. Staring at him, I could see he had similar features to his daughter, including the same color blue in his eyes. He still had all his hair, which was gray and cut short in a rough sort of way as if he did it himself. And considering his age, he still cut an imposing figure. Even with the shapeless robes he wore, I could tell he was in good shape underneath.
"Comrades," Grayson said, addressing his followers again. "Let us not waste any more time. There are people on Earth who need wakening up, and you--" He pointed out to the crowd. "You will wake them. You all know what you have to do. Now go and do it! Go and create change in the universe, brothers and sisters! Be the angels the people of Earth need!"
More cheering and clapping, and then a moment later, the crowd seemed to disperse as everyone went to leave the room. Sam also left, while I hung around the stage wondering what the hell I was supposed to do now.
"Mr Creed." Grayson addressed me from the stage. "Why don't you follow me to my quarters so we can talk." He was smiling, but he still seemed ominous to me.
I nodded and then climbed on the stage to follow Grayson, who was already walking away. And as I followed behind him, it suddenly hit me where I knew Grayson from.
He was the killer of seven people.
11
Gordon Grayson
I followed Gordon Grayson down a few hallways and into a large study where Grayson seated himself behind a big oak desk, at the same time gesturing me to sit in the seat opposite. "I'm just realizing," I said as I sat down, trying to maintain the air of a man who had nothing to hide. "There are no windows in this place."
Grayson smiled. "No. We are situated in a small pocket of time and space. There wouldn't be much to see."
"I guess not." I sat back in the leather seat and crossed my legs as if settling in for a long, meaningful conversation, hoping I was putting out just enough reverence without seeming too eager about it, and without coming across as some starstruck groupie. If I wanted him to trust me eventually, I would have to act like someone who could be trusted, someone who was not too weak to think or stand up for themselves. I had to be a man he could respect.
Grayson stared at me for a long moment, just as his daughter did, and probably for the same reason. To get the measure of me. "I must say, I'm pleased to have a man of your caliber here with us," he said eventually, sounding genuine enough. Under other circumstances, I might have been flattered that such an accomplished scientist thought of me in those terms. And yes, Grayson was a scientist, at least until he managed to kill seven people who were voluntary subjects in one of his experiments. I remember the story being in the news at the time because it happened not too long after I came to Blackham. Grayson went on the run rather than face the consequences of his actions, and hadn't been heard from since. Until now, that is.
"A man of my caliber?" I gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Nothing compared to you, I'm sure. Your work on the nature of consciousness was quite brilliant. I would have said a few more years, and you would have cracked the consciousness code, so to speak."
"So you know me then?" Grayson said nodding, not sounding too surprised. "Then you must also know what I did back then."
"Of course. I'm sure you didn't mean it. Did you?"
"What do you think, Mr Creed?"
I didn't hesitate. "I believe you didn't kill those people on purpose. What did happen? It was never made clear in any of the reports."
Grayson sighed slightly as if he was hesitant to talk about it, but he did so anyway, probably just to get it out of the way before we could get to the real order of business, which I had to assume involved deciding if I was trustworthy or not. "It was just another experiment," he said. "We'd done dozens of them by that point. It simply involved putting the subjects into a deep trance so we could more easily study their brain activity. More specifically, the special behavior that goes on at that level. At that level of consciousness, our brains run on--"
"Magick."
He nodded. "You would, of course, know that, being a sorcerer. I didn't at the time."
"So what happened?"
Grayson stared down towards the floor for a moment as if remembering back to thirty years ago. "We didn't know this at the time, but when a person's mind is in that deep trance for a prolonged period, doorways can be opened in their minds. Doorways that lead to other worlds. One of the subjects opened the door to one such world, and something bad came through the door. An evil spirit of some kind that went from one subject to the next, draining their life-force as it went. We didn't notice until it was too late, and even then, we didn't know what to do. The only reason we knew what was happening was because the spirit revealed itself after draining the last person. It was like a dark shadow with burning eyes, and it seemed to leer at us, knowing there was nothing we could do. And then it just disappeared as if it were never there in the first place."
"Leaving seven dead bodies behind it," I said.
Grayson looked angry for a moment, his blue eyes seeming to go darker as his brow creased. "Those people should never have died," he stated. "If the powers that be hadn't of kept us in ignorance--shielding the true nature of the world from us, keeping us ignorant of the supernatural horrors that exist--we may have been able to stop that evi
l spirit before it killed those seven people." His stare was intense as he focused on me as if he considered me as one of those who kept the truth hidden, which I did of course, for which I make no apologies for. "That incident opened my eyes. At that moment, I decided to never again live in ignorance and that I would show the world the truth that had been kept hidden from them. I've spent the last three decades searching for and uncovering that truth."
Searching for the Dark Codex more like, I thought. Too soon to mention that yet, though. "You ran."
Grayson nodded. "I was looking at life imprisonment for something I didn't do. Wouldn't you?"
"I suppose."
"Sometimes running is the only option."
I couldn't disagree with him. "I know."
"I've no doubt you do, Mr Creed."
"Please, just Creed will do."
He nodded. "Why are you here, Creed? Tell me the truth."
His bluntness almost caught me off guard, and I shifted in my seat slightly. "Like everyone else here, I want to see change, of course."
"Come on," he said, his eyes narrowing like he knew there was more to it. "Half these people here are crackpots. You must have seen it. Most are only here because I need bodies. They are working towards the greater good, even if they don't quite see it. But you, Creed, are no crackpot."
I smiled. "I can give you a list of people who would likely disagree with that. A long list."
"I'm not saying you aren't a little crazy." Grayson snorted. "Hell, men like you and me, we're all a little crazy, right? We have to be. It's how we get things done when no one else can, am I right?"
"Sure."
"But you know more than all these people put together. Maybe you even know more than me."
Puffing my cheeks out, I said, "Jesus, stop. I just fucking do what I do, same as you. Same as anyone. It's like I told your daughter, I'm here to help."
"I have no doubt about that." He pointed his finger at me then. "But to help who, that's what I'm unsure about."
"You think I'm here to disrupt things?" I laughed as if the idea was absurd.
"Yes, I can't help but think that. You just don't strike me as the type of man to get involved in a revolution such as this. I'd even go so as far as to say that you are a part of the system we are trying to bring down here."
Shit. I had obviously overestimated my ability to hide my true nature. That and my far-reaching reputation, which never had revolutionary attached to it at any point. "I've always bucked the system in my own way," I said, again feeding him mostly truth since I figured it was the best way to tell a lie, to conceal it under truth. "I just never thought it could be changed until I came across SciCane. Sure, the whole cult thing you got going here is not to my tastes at all, but you seem serious about changing things, and you make me believe that things can be changed. Hell, you can't make them any worse, can you?" I laughed as I leaned forward, eliciting a deep chuckle from Grayson as well.
The man in charge sat back and thought for a long moment while I stared right back at him as I held my conviction that I belonged there with him. "I must admit," he said eventually. "I do like you, Creed. You don't give a fuck, and I need people like that. People who don't give a fuck. But--" He seemed to pause for dramatic effect. "I can't shake the feeling that you're here to do damage to us. Maybe for that shit-heel organization, Division. You have ties with them."
I made a show of snorting loudly. "Division? Give me a fucking break. I hate those guys. They've been busting my balls for years. Sure, I helped them out with a few things, but only so they'd leave me the fuck alone. They would have locked me up otherwise."
"Maybe that's why you're here, so they don't lock you up."
I sighed as if there was nothing more I could say. "You'll just have to take my word on that, then won't you?"
Grayson nodded sagely, his broad chin jutting out. "I suppose I will. But the truth is, it doesn't matter. The revolution has begun, and there is nothing you or anyone else can do to stop it."
He seemed so damn sure. I wonder why? Dark Codex much? "I hope that's true."
Smiling, Grayson said, "Oh, it is. You want me to trust you, Creed?"
"Of course."
"Then here's what you are going to do for me."
12
Mission Objectives
Inside one of the rooms of the sprawling mansion, there was a gateway that led back to Earth, similar to the liquidescent (and if that's not a word, it is now) gateways in Sanaka's Sanctum, such as the one I went through recently to get to the Underworld. As I stepped through the bright blue portal after Jordan Grayson, I shook my head at the potent magick her father had obviously tapped into via the Dark Codex.
When I came through the gateway, Jordan was waiting for me inside a sewer tunnel. "The sewers?" I said wrinkling my nose at the smell, which reminded me of rotten socks.
Jordan, serious as ever, said, "It's important we stay hidden. We couldn't just create a gateway in the open for someone to find."
I nodded. "Fair enough."
Jordan was dressed in a tight-fitting red dress that showed just how lean and lithe she was underneath. She looked stunning, in fact, though obviously uncomfortable. I got the impression she didn't dress up much, and only when it was required of her. Like now, for the mission. She didn't seem to have a problem with what we were about to do, however.
For the record though, I had a major problem with the mission objectives. For reasons that will soon become clear.
In the meantime, I had my magick back, so that was something at least. I smiled as I conjured a small sphere of blue energy in the palm of one hand.
Jordan didn't seem too impressed as if she had seen it all before. "You do magick?" I asked her, though I knew she didn't. I would have felt it otherwise. Her father, however, was a different story. Grayson had a ton of magick coursing through him, which I immediately felt when I first saw him. It felt unnatural though like he had gotten it all at once instead of building it up over years of practice.
"I dislike magick," Jordan said as we trekked on through the sewer tunnels, Jordan knowing exactly where to go as if she had come this way many times before.
"Why?" I asked as the energy ball disappeared in my hand. "When you are actively trying to put magick in the hands of the people?"
Jordan nodded as if the irony wasn't lost on her. "It's the only way to change things, to level the playing field so the people can protect themselves against their oppressors, supernatural or otherwise."
She wasn't wrong, hypothetically speaking. The Sleepwalkers wouldn't stand a chance against the combined might of the state and corporations, not to mention certain factions of the occult underground, unless they had the power to protect themselves and fight back. My biggest worry about that was what was going to happen afterward, if and when the Sleepwalkers defeated their enemies. What then? Was everyone just going to live their lives in peace? Were they fuck. Chaos would ensue. Widespread and unbridled use of magick would see to that. Instead of freeing the people, the Grayson's would plunge the entire world into another dark age.
But I couldn't exactly argue against their philosophy and tactics when I was supposed to be a part of the team, now could I? The only thing I could do was hope that I managed to stop their crazy plan before it came to fruition. Though I have to be honest, what I was about to do with Jordan wasn't exactly going to help matters on that front. Not only was my loyalty being tested, but I was also being used to kickstart the "grand plan". I could've informed Brentwood, but there wasn't much point. Mission priority was to obtain the Dark Codex. And the only way to get it was to get close to the Graysons. Having them all arrested at this stage wouldn't help much as neither would likely give up the book's location anyway.
It wasn't long before we exited out of the sewer tunnels and into a disused subway station that eventually led us out to a backstreet in the north end of Freetown near the river. I continued to follow Jordan out of the backstreet just as dusk began to settle in the cit
y. I wasn't sure how long I had been in the pocket dimension, but it felt good to be walking around Blackham again. "We haven't really discussed the plan yet," I said to Jordan as she took us into a small parking lot where a beat up old van was parked.
"There isn't much to discuss," Jordan said as she went around the driver's side of the van and opened the door. Once inside, she opened the passenger door for me, and I hopped in, shivering slightly at the cold inside. The van had obviously been sitting for a while.
"There isn't much to discuss?" I was slightly incredulous at her seeming lack of worry over what we were about to do. "We're about to try and snatch a werewolf and a vampire. I don't know about you, but I have little experience in kidnapping, especially bloody beasts with teeth and claws that will almost certainly fight back."
Jordan turned her head to look at me. "They won't fight much, not if we do things right."
"Which is how? Hypnotize them into coming with us?"
She smiled. "Something like that. Once we chose our victims, we can con them out to the van, at which point we restrain them and toss them in the back."
I snorted and shook my head. "Have you ever tried to restrain a werewolf?"
"Yes."
The immediacy of her answer surprised me a little. "Really?"