The Requiem Collection: The Book of Jubilees, More Anger Than Sorrow & Calling Babel
Page 43
He stared at himself for quite some time. It must have been longer than he realized as he heard a knock on the door. “Babel, are you okay?” It was Triana.
At first he didn’t answer and she knocked again and repeated the question. He pulled his eyes away from the mirror and towards the door. He forced an answer. “I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay. You’ve been in there for a while. I was getting worried about you.”
“Thanks. I’m fine.”
He followed her footsteps as they receded. He looked in the mirror once more before exiting to return to the table. Everyone was trying not to look at him, instead focusing on the dessert and coffee that was being laid out by Abby.
After dinner, Babel followed Quentin to his study. The house had less of the unusual lines and curves present in Triana’s apartment but was still strange. Quentin’s study on the other hand, seemed like any other study in which he had ever been. In fact, the décor was similar to what he would have picked out himself.
“Nice room.” Babel commented.
“Thanks. This is where I can come and think.”
“This room is different than the others.”
“Do you mean the design of the room?” Babel nodded his head. “This house is very old. There are many features in this house, some of which I hope I never have to show you.”
“Features…?”
“For example,” Quentin said, waving his hand over a section of the wall, “behind this wall is an item that places a protective barrier around the house. I currently have the barrier set.”
“What do you need a barrier for?”
“The barrier blocks energy readings.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They can track you.”
“They…?”
“The Klopph. They have a device that tracks your energy.”
Babel looked at Quentin alarmed. “How…? They could come here.”
Quentin shook his head. “That is why I have a barrier. The items in this room were once part of the Ministry of Science. This is a replica of my father’s study.”
Babel looked around amazed. “So your father built the barrier?”
Quentin nodded proudly. “He built it to protect what he was working on. No aura can escape from this room.”
“Aura? Triana said something about that.”
“There are those here who can see auras. Triana is one of these. Has she ever mentioned to you that she could see your aura?”
Babel thought for a moment. “Yes.”
“She can also transmit and receive feeling through touch.” Quentin’s voice trailed off and a hint of sadness was present as he spoke the words. Babel started to speak but something in Quentin’s voice gave him pause and instead he waited for him to continue.
“Three months ago,” Quentin’s voice started slowly, “Triana disappeared. I searched for her energy but could not find any trace of her. Zero trace – which was very alarming. Everyone leaves small traces of them as they move about life but all traces of her were gone.” Babel nodded to show he understood and Quentin continued.
“A month later she showed up at my door. She was filthy and scantily dressed. You can’t imagine how alarmed I was. I induced hypnosis and questioned her and discovered she had been taken by the Klopph. She had been held at one of their locations to the north and there…” His voice trailed off again and tears filled his eyes.
“What happened?” Babel asked.
Quentin collected himself. “I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me. I put her under further but she wouldn’t reveal anything to me. She had a scar on her chest that had not been there before. I don’t know what happened to her but knowing the Klopph, it was something terrible.
“Afterwards, she began demonstrating the gift of ajándék – the gift of feeling touch. She had not had the gift prior to her disappearance.”
“And you think the Klopph had something to do with it?”
“There is no other explanation. Ajándék is a very special gift. Many people here have abilities but very few have that gift. No one has more than one gift but now she has two. The combination of those two gifts could make her very dangerous.”
“How so?”
“I’m not entirely sure. I studied her for a while but was not able to ascertain what those two abilities could mean. I do know that if she has a child born with two abilities, it would change the entire future.”
“Does she know all of this?” Babel asked.
Quentin shook his head. “When she was under hypnosis, I suppressed her memories of what happened. Now, she does not remember anything from her month-long absence. I spoke with her employer and he agreed to the cover story of the company downsizing. She was given a severance package that I provided. I did not know the effects of what had happened to her and I thought it prudent to limit her interaction with others until I could better understand.”
“Have you learned anything else?”
“Not much. She comes to eat with us once a week and I use that time to speak with her under hypnosis. I have to be careful as I do not want the suppressed memories to surface. Whatever the Klopph is planning with her, it remains elusive.”
Quentin let the thought linger for a moment before changing direction. “No doubt Triana is not the only one with changes. You’ve noticed new things about yourself as well?”
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
“Your skin.”
“How do you know something is different with my skin?”
“My father created the Bejárat. I spent several hours with him as he perfected the science. During that time, through smaller versions of the portal, I was able to see the people of your world.”
“Wait…you’ve seen my world?” Babel was taken aback.
Quentin smiled. “Those people had clearly defined skin. There were various shades of skin but the color of the skin was defined. It’s not like that here. And yet, you are from that world and your skin is like that of people here.”
“So why would my skin change?”
“I don’t know. You are of the blood of this world. But you are also of the blood of the other world. Perhaps your skin is interchangeable as needed in the world in which you are.”
Babel gave a nervous laugh. “Earlier in the bathroom was the first time I noticed.”
“I thought something was wrong with you.”
“That was it.”
“Why is your skin different here?”
Quentin smiled. “That’s like asking why some people are genetically taller than others. Who knows? Perhaps it has something to do with our connection with the energy of the world. We are not divided by appearance. In fact, we embrace any differences in celebration of the uniqueness of the energy of the world. At least we did until the Klopph came.”
“The Klopph.” Babel repeated.
Quentin reflected on his comments for a few moments before standing. “I have something for you.” He turned and walked back to a box on a back shelf in the study. When he reached the box, he gave it a quarter turn counter-clockwise. As he did, several planks in the wooden floor slid back, revealing a stairway. “Follow me.”
Babel followed him to a large room at the bottom of the stairs which contained several doors. “Those doorways lead to other parts of my compound.” Quentin said noticing Babel’s gaze. “This is my private lab. No one knows this lab exists. It was here that I continued my father’s research on the barrier, which now extends around the entire Garden Quarter.”
“But if there is a block of energy around the Garden Quarter, won’t the Klopph know there is something suspicious?”
“The extended barrier doesn’t work like that. As it extends from the house, it diffuses the energy, giving the Klopph device the reading that the energy is fluent throughout the area. This way they aren’t able to lock on one specific location.” He paused for a moment to make sure that Babel understood. “I also created a personal
device using the technology of the barrier. I have used the portable barrier on various occasions, especially when I am working on something and moving around the city in a familiar pattern, which would draw attention. I actually created two portable devices. One of these I am giving to you. This will protect you, as well as Triana.”
“Thank you.” Babel said, accepting the item. “How do I use it?”
“It’s always on. You just have to keep it on you. Your energy will fuel the device.”
Babel and Quentin spoke for a while more before returning upstairs. Then, Quentin closed the panel in the floor and they exited the study.
In the living room, Babel found Triana waiting for him. “Are you ready to go?”
Babel realized how tired he was. They had been at her family’s house most of the day. The sun was beginning to get low in the sky and Babel knew they had to be back to her apartment before dark. “I’m ready.” He thanked Abby for the dinner, said goodbye to Triana’s cousins, and without thinking about it, reached out and shook Quentin’s hand. Quentin clasped Babel’s hand and returned the gesture.
Babel gave one last wave to Quentin and Abby’s youngest daughter before the door closed and Babel and Triana were alone on the street. They walked in silence for several moments before Triana spoke. “Did you learn what you needed to from my uncle?”
Babel thought on her question for a moment before answering. “I did. He was very helpful.”
“I told you so.”
Babel looked at Triana and she gave a playful smile. Babel laughed. The conversation turned casual as they walked back to Triana’s apartment.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Babel woke up from a dream. The window along the ceiling showed it was still dark outside. He rolled over to check the time but as usual, the numbers did not make sense to him.
Now that he was awake, he couldn’t recall his dream. He had a feeling that there was something to the dream – something he needed to remember. But now that he was awake, it was almost as if his mind didn’t want him to remember. The dream floated at the edge of his memory, trying to push forward but his mind kept pushing the dream back. He continued this battle for a while before his mind won, pushing the dream from his thoughts.
The apartment was quiet. Outside there was no noise. He stared at the ceiling, listening to the quiet world before closing his eyes. He let his mind slip away and soon he was back asleep.
When he opened his eyes again, sunlight exuded through the window. He looked around. The room was still strange but he found he was becoming more comfortable with his father’s world.
He stretched and rose from the bed. After his shower, he went to say good morning to his host but found Triana was not up yet. He went to the kitchen and conjured a cup of coffee. From his place back on the couch, he looked over at the door to Triana’s room and noticed that her door was open. “Was it opened before or did I just not notice?” He didn’t hear her in the shower.
He set his coffee down and noticed a note on the corner of the table. It was from Triana. The note read that she had left early to go to the market to get some fresh fruit for breakfast. I know that the fridge can conjure fruit but it’s not the same as fresh grown, she wrote.
Coffee in hand, he leaned back into the couch to wait for her return. Two hours later, she still wasn’t back.
Babel wasn’t sure what to do. He expected that she would be gone for a reasonable time as she probably had other errands to run. An hour in, suspicion grew that something might have happened. Two hours turned that suspicion into concern. The only thing he could think to do was to leave a note in case she returned and go out looking for her.
He had only been in Orleans a short time and had not seen that much of the city outside of walking to Triana’s uncle’s house, but he had been to New Orleans. If the setup of the city was similar as it seemed on brief inspection, he could make his way around.
He started by heading towards the river (he guessed the city had a river) where the market was located in New Orleans. He found that Orleans had the same layout. He passed a large cathedral and a small park on his way to the riverfront and from there took a left towards the market. He passed an open plaza and smelled the fried dough and coffee from the restaurant there. He had eaten earlier but his stomach growled at the aroma.
The market gave no sign of Triana and he left to wander the streets of the Elder Quarter (which was eerily similar to the French Quarter). He searched the entire area twice with no success. Just to be sure, he stopped by her apartment once more and found it empty with no new note. He knew he couldn’t continue walking around the city aimlessly, so with few options, he headed west towards the Garden Quarter.
Thirty minutes later he was staring at the home of Triana’s uncle in disbelief. The front door was kicked in and several of the windows were broken inward, a sign that they had been shattered from the outside. Before he had time to consider the consequences, Babel ran into the house.
Inside he found signs of a fight. Chairs and tables were overturned. He ran from room-to-room, checking the closets and any other place he could think of that someone would hide. The house was empty. Then, he remembered Quentin’s lab under the study.
The study itself was tousled. Pictures and documents that had hung from the wall now lie on the floor beneath piles of broken glass.
Babel stopped. He had been running around the house but now stood still. He needed a moment to clear his head so he could think. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt his heartbeat slow. His breathing returned closer to normal. He opened his eyes and found he was more focused; he knew there had to be something in the house that would give him answers and he didn’t want to miss it. Perhaps some sort of message from Quentin.
He slowly walked around the study, looking for anything that might call for his attention. He had only been in the room once and didn’t have everything memorized; he wasn’t entirely sure if he could pick something out that was out of place.
He didn’t notice anything. He went to the box on the back shelf that Quentin had used to open his private lab and just as Quentin had, he gave it a quarter turn counter-clockwise which opened the stairway. He sauntered the stairs and looked around. “How much things change in a day.”
His first inspection gave him nothing. He gave the room a second sweep and nearly missed the item the second time. Only this time, he saw it – a small envelope with his name on it. Inside he found a handwritten note.
Babel,
I am writing this as you leave my home with my niece. There is much you don’t understand and of which I have very little time to tell you. I write and leave this for you in hope that if something happens to me, you will find this.
There are many secrets that the Chokka guarded. Some of which my father did not even know. But their greatest secret is one that my father did know and one that he passed to me. There was a reason that the Chokka were the only people to lead this world for many years. It was not that they were all great leaders, as some were not. But they did possess powers that no one else had. The Chokka shared – however they did – the same energy that makes up the world. These powers were so strong because they came from the energy of the world. That is why the Chokka energy does not completely fade after so many years of no Chokka.
I tell you this because you must find within yourself the power that all Chokka possess. Without this power, you cannot defeat the Klopph. The Keeper took over the world because of his sheer numbers. You can do the same. Find your inner-power and people will follow you. With enough people, you can take the world back.
Be well, Quentin.
Babel read the note twice and the final paragraph a third time. He then folded the note and slid it into his pocket. He glanced around the room once more to make sure there wasn’t something else he was missing before heading back up the stairs. There he closed the floorboards and left the house. He knew he would not be coming back.
Outside, he saw a neighbor pullin
g his trash to the curb. The man had several barrels that needed to be moved so Babel offered his assistance. When the last can was by the road, the old man thanked Babel. Then, he nodded at Quentin’s house. “I noticed you came out of the house.”
Babel did not see any reason to lie as it was obvious the man had seen him exit the house. “I did. Do you know what happened?”
The man paused for a moment before nodding. Then, he spoke one word, “Klopph.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
The Cancellarrii had woken up in the middle of the night with a face ingrained in his mind. He had only been asleep a few hours and the face had come to him in a dream.
He immediately rose and went to his desk to access the Database. He searched through several old files and articles before coming across cross-referenced information on the former Ministry of Science: the Minister had a son who was killed young.
The Cancellarrii pulled the information on the son. Included with the file was a photo of the boy. The face was similar to what he had seen in his dream, only in his dream, the face had been much older. “He looks familiar.” He read further and discovered that the boy was to be the Tanácsadó, advisor and fill in to the son of the Császár but had died before the initial procedure.
On a hunch he did a progressive photo imaging of what the Minister’s son would look like today if he had lived. When the photo was complete, the Cancellarrii inhaled in surprise. He knew the man at which he was looking. “He works at the university.” The Cancellarrii knew this because he had sought out the man as an expert in history.
Their conversation had been professional – someone had stolen some artifacts from a local museum and the Cancellarrii questioned the history professor as to the value and market of the stolen items. It was the insight of the professor that had allowed them to catch the thief.
“Quentin.” the Cancellarrii read the first name on the screen. “You and I have a few more questions that we must go over.”