“I’ll see what I can do.”
Wade was in the middle of his bath when it suddenly occurred to him what the “important work” was. Dr. Lyst is making the bomb! he thought excitedly. He’s figured out how to do it!
Wade remembered how the atomic bomb was surrounded by top secrecy during its development. The Americans had been worried that the Germans might discover what they were up to, steal their secrets, and develop the bomb before them. Likewise, that must be why Tyran and Dr. Lyst had clamped down on security around the castle. They didn’t want any of their enemies to create the bomb first. Wade felt excited and proud.
Later, during breakfast, Wade noticed how empty the castle seemed to be. Many of the staff and servants were missing, just as Thurston had said. Wade ate his toast and wondered about the illness that was going around. What kinds of germs and flus did they have in this world? Were they the same as in his?
His thinking drifted back to the atomic bomb and the effects it had on the Japanese at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The newspapers had reported that many mysterious illnesses—some fatal—afflicted the survivors. Doctors were still trying to sort out the causes, but most agreed that the diseases were the aftereffects of the radiation from the bombs. They still had so much to learn, they said.
Radiation, Wade thought. Does Dr. Lyst understand about the dangers of radiation?
Wade jumped up from the table and raced to the laboratory. The doors were closed, as he expected. He knocked loudly. When no one answered, he knocked again. This time he didn’t wait and opened one of the doors.
The laboratory looked empty. Then, through the doors leading to the walkway on the wall outside, he saw Dr. Lyst. The doctor was standing, looking out over the city.
“Dr. Lyst?” Wade called.
“Oh, hello, Wade,” the doctor said pleasantly. He looked weary. In the distance, a ribbon of smoke rose from the city’s horizon.
“What’s that?” Wade asked.
“More riots.”
“They’re rioting?” Wade was concerned. “Why?”
“The war, a poor economy . . . it’s always the same,” the doctor replied. “What can they expect when they follow the fools who serve as our elders? But the moment is coming—is nearly here—when Tyran will prove himself.”
Wade leaned against the wall and kept his eyes fixed on the city. “You’ve figured out how to build the bomb,” he said as casually as he could.
Dr. Lyst sighed. “Not the bomb—not the atomic one—but we’ve come up with at least a bomb. A powerful one. My technicians and scientists are exhausting themselves to have it finished by tomorrow.”
Wade turned to him, surprised. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” Dr. Lyst affirmed. “That’s when Tyran will make his demonstration to the elders.”
“That’s why everyone’s been so busy,” Wade said.
“Yes.”
From somewhere in the city, they heard a loud crack, like the sound of a whip snapping. It was followed by a muted scream.
“Can’t the police stop it?” Wade asked.
Dr. Lyst shook his head. “They’ve been trying, but the people are panicked. A lot of them are sick.”
“Sick from what?”
“No one is sure.”
Wade waited a moment, then asked cautiously, “Did you know that a lot of people in the castle are sick, too?”
“I heard that something is going around.” Dr. Lyst touched his nose. “I’m not sure I feel very well myself. But I don’t have time to think about it.”
“Dr. Lyst, have you been using plutonium or uranium in your research?”
Dr. Lyst turned his gaze fully to Wade. His expression was quizzical as he answered, “We don’t have such things here, but we have our own equivalent. We call it viranium. Why do you ask?”
“Because in my world, the stuff that makes the atomic bomb work is radioactive,” Wade explained. “If people are exposed to it, they get sick. Sometimes they die.”
“Oh, I see now. You’re afraid that I’ve brought some of those substances to the castle and that’s what’s making people sick?”
“Yes. Maybe the people in the city are getting sick from it, too. See, I’ve been thinking about it, and maybe if you weren’t careful, it might get into the water somehow.”
“Don’t worry about it, Wade,” the doctor said, his voice full of assurance. “We have the strictest precautions in place. I have everything under control.”
“Then you’re not keeping any of that viranium stuff here—anywhere near the city?”
Dr. Lyst smiled. “I said not to worry. We’re scientists. We’re careful.”
Wade wasn’t sure if he believed him, but he didn’t get the chance to pursue the subject because just then, Tyran appeared in the doorway between the laboratory and the castle wall. “There you are,” he said. “I have been looking for you.”
“Well, here I am,” Dr. Lyst said, his arms outstretched as if he were presenting himself for inspection.
“You have time to stand out here and look at the view?” Tyran teased.
“I make time, Tyran,” the doctor replied, then lectured, “as should you. You’re looking very tired.”
“I am tired,” Tyran said sharply. “Tired of those idiots who call themselves our elders. They will not return any of my messages now. It was bad enough that they laughed at me yesterday, but now they are ignoring me. I will not tolerate it any longer.”
“Ah! You’ve decided how you want to handle the demonstration?”
“Yes, providing you have good news for me.”
“Good news?” Dr. Lyst nodded. “I suppose I do. Our prototype should be ready to test by tomorrow morning.”
“Should be?” Tyran challenged him. “Will be, you mean.”
“It will be.”
“Excellent.” Tyran rubbed his hands together briskly. “I have determined the perfect site for the demonstration.”
“Where?”
“The home of one of the elders.”
“A home?”
“Liven’s mansion on the outskirts of the city.”
“Not someone’s home, Tyran! You can’t be serious.”
“I am very serious, my friend. That will show them how powerful we are, and that we mean business.”
Dr. Lyst lowered his head and said softly, “No, Tyran.”
“No? You are defying me, doctor?”
Dr. Lyst locked eye contact with him. “I know you’re upset with the elders,” he reasoned, “but murdering one of them at home is not the way.”
“Murdering?” Tyran said, then suddenly laughed. “You do not understand,” he explained. “I’m not out to kill anyone. I merely want to blow up Liven’s house, not Liven or his family.”
“That’s a relief,” said Dr. Lyst.
Tyran continued, “My spies have worked out Liven’s routine. His wife and children are gone every morning at 10:00. His servants use that time to shop for the evening meal. The house will be empty when we do our demonstration.”
“You’re certain?”
“I am certain.” Tyran eyed the doctor for a moment. “You are not convinced.”
“I’m not convinced that blowing up anyone’s house is a good idea.”
“What do you think bombs are for?” Tyran said with a humorless chuckle. “Do you think Wade’s country hesitated to drop those atomic bombs on their enemies just because there were homes in the target cities?”
“We dropped them on industrial cities,” Wade said defensively.
“All the same, you destroyed homes and families. It is what happens in war.”
“We’re not at war with our own city,” Dr. Lyst said.
“We may as well be,” Tyran snapped, then turned to Wade. “Thurston asked me for permission to send a message to Arin on your behalf.”
“Yes, sir. I want Arin to know that I’m with you and I’m safe.”
“I told Thurston no, he did not have permission to do what you asked,”
Tyran said. He pushed his hands into his jacket pockets. “These are volatile times, Wade. I cannot have one of my servants seen near Arin’s compound. It would give the wrong impression. Besides, why should you care whether Arin knows you are all right?”
“Because he helped me when I first arrived,” Wade replied.
“Your loyalty is commendable but misguided. He would have made a spectacle of you. He only helped you because it suited his own ends.”
Wade thought that statement was unfair. Arin didn’t seem selfish. “And why are you helping me?” Wade retorted.
Tyran struck out, clipping Wade on the cheek. “Never question me in that tone again!” he ordered.
Tears sprang to Wade’s eyes, more from the shock than from the blow itself. “Yes, sir,” he said coldly and turned his back to Tyran to look out at the city again.
He heard Tyran march away.
Wade gently rubbed his cheek. Dr. Lyst also looked thoughtfully toward the city.
“He seems harder now, doesn’t he?” Dr. Lyst said.
Wade nodded.
“He’s under a lot of stress.”
Wade didn’t say anything.
“The demonstration will prove to the elders that it’s time to listen to us. A lot is riding on its success.”
Wade kept his gaze on the city.
“Things will be different after tomorrow.”
Wade nodded, but he wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad.
Now that he knew he wasn’t allowed to leave the castle or get a message to Arin, Wade felt like a prisoner. “It’s to keep you safe,” Thurston said in the dining room, echoing the same thing Tyran had said that first night he’d arrived at the castle. Come to think of it, Arin had said the same thing about keeping Wade in the compound: It was to protect him.
Why, then, he wondered, does being kept safe feel like being imprisoned? He ventured to ask Thurston that question.
“Being safe and being imprisoned aren’t so different,” Thurston said reflectively as he picked up Wade’s dinner plates. “In the hands of someone who loves you, being kept inside is safety. When you’re ill, for example, your mother or father may keep you in your room so you’ll get better. In the hands of someone who hates you, being kept inside is imprisonment. You’re kept locked up so you’ll stay out of the way or won’t be able to speak or cause trouble, or to punish you.”
“So who loves me?” Wade asked. “Tyran or Arin?”
Thurston smiled at him warily. “That’s not for me to say,” he replied.
Wade remembered how Tyran had struck him on the face earlier in the day. Was that the act of a man who loved him? Wade thought he knew the answer. It was easy to think now that all of Tyran’s kind words and friendly gestures had been to get Wade to tell them about the atomic bomb. But what about Dr. Lyst? He had always acted like Wade’s friend. Or was that a trick, too?
Wade felt foolish and thought again about Arin. Stay in the compound, Arin had told him, so no harm will come to him and he wouldn’t be used to cause harm. Wade had felt disappointed and trapped when Arin had said that. Now . . .
Now he had to wonder: Is this what Arin meant? Have I been used to cause harm?
“Will that be all, sir?” Thurston asked.
“Yes, thank you,” Wade answered.
Thurston bowed slightly, and Wade noticed for the first time how pale he looked. “Are you feeling all right, Thurston?” he asked.
“Not very,” he replied, then took a tray of dirty dishes to the kitchen.
That night, Wade dreamed that he had climbed to the top of the castle wall to see the city—just as he’d climbed the wall of Arin’s compound. But the ladder fell and he was stuck on the wall. To his horror, he saw that the wall was rigged with explosives, and they were set to go off in two minutes. He didn’t know what to do. Then a voice called to him from below. It was Arin, with outstretched arms, shouting, “Jump! I’ll catch you! I’ll protect you!” Wade was poised on the ledge, unable to make his decision, when the bombs went off.
Wade awakened to a dark room. Once he realized it was only a dream, he lay back and tried to calm his fast-beating heart. He rolled over to look at the small clock on the bedstand. It was after nine o’clock.
Nine o’clock at night? That didn’t make sense. He had gone to bed at 10:00. Tumbling out from under the covers, he went over to the curtains and pushed them aside. A glorious morning greeted him.
“Where’s Thurston?” he wondered out loud. Pulling on his robe, he went into the hallway. Everything seemed unnaturally quiet. He made his way to Dr. Lyst’s laboratory and was relieved to find the doctor there. “Good morning,” Wade said.
“Is it? I’m not so certain,” the doctor replied, pacing around the room with great agitation. He looked pale and had dark circles under his eyes.
“I overslept,” Wade explained. “Thurston didn’t wake me up like he normally does. Do you know where he is?”
“What?”
“Where’s Thurston?”
Dr. Lyst waved his hand impatiently. “I haven’t the foggiest. Probably with the rest of the staff, finding vantage points from which to watch Tyran’s demonstration.”
“He’s going through with it? You finished the bomb?”
“Please, Wade, don’t bother me with questions now. I’m annoyed—most annoyed.”
“What’s the matter?”
“The matter?” The doctor looked at him as if he were stupid. “I was up all night at our laboratory in Hailsham, that’s what’s the matter. Half my scientists and technicians have come down with this blasted illness. And I had Tyran breathing down my neck the whole time.”
“Did you finish your prototype of the bomb?” Wade asked.
“I wouldn’t call it a prototype. A prototype means we’ll make more like it, and we won’t. No, sir, we won’t make another one like it. It was a mess.”
“You mean it won’t work?”
Dr. Lyst suddenly blew his nose, then answered, “It’ll work, all right. It’ll blow that house to smithereens. But I wouldn’t want to make another like it. We needed time, I kept telling Tyran. We have to test these things carefully. But he wouldn’t listen. Oh no, he wouldn’t. He’ll have his demonstration, but I won’t let him pressure me like that again. I want my bombs to be right. It’s a wonder his men weren’t blown up carrying the bomb to the house.”
“His men?”
“Why do you keep asking so many questions!” Dr. Lyst shouted. “He wouldn’t let me or my technicians set the bomb up. He had his soldiers do it—as if they know anything about my bombs. ‘You’ll be spotted,’ he said. ‘My soldiers will creep in quietly, set the bomb, and creep away. No one will know they were there. But you and your technicians would blunder in and give the whole thing away.’ Can you imagine? He said we would blunder in! Blunder! Well, if it all goes wrong, he’ll have no one to blame but himself.”
Wade didn’t know what to say.
Dr. Lyst looked at Wade as puzzlement moved across his face like a shadow. “Why are you still in your bathrobe?”
“Thurston didn’t wake me up,” Wade explained again.
“For heaven’s sake, get dressed, Wade! This is a big day!”
Wade rushed back to his room and hastily washed himself, watered down his hair so it wouldn’t stick up at odd angles, dressed, then returned to the lab.
Dr. Lyst was out on the castle wall with a telescope. He handed Wade a large pair of powerful binoculars. “We’ll see everything from here,” he said, then sighed. “I hope you’re pleased with your creation.”
“My creation?”
Dr. Lyst eyed him impatiently. “Must you always speak in question marks? Yes, it’s your creation as much as it’s mine.”
Tyran made his demands clear in the elders’ meeting. Liven and Dedmon, along with Acad, who was obviously ill, argued with him.
“You think we’re going to hand the reins of power over to you simply because you tell us we should?” Dedmon asked. He
sniffled, then blew his nose loudly.
Liven stood up to face Tyran. “We’ve been more than patient with you, Tyran,” he said. “Leave now or I’ll have my guards throw you out.”
Tyran smiled and said, “Your guards are currently being subdued by my guards.”
“What?” Liven said. He marched over to the chamber door, threw it open, and found himself face-to-face with three of Tyran’s men. They scowled at him and looked all the more menacing because of their sharp black uniforms and high jackboots. Liven turned to Tyran. “You can’t do this!” he insisted. “It’s treason!”
“It is only a temporary measure, to make sure we are not interrupted until my demonstration is finished,” Tyran replied as if nothing were wrong.
“What demonstration?” Acad asked weakly from his chair.
Tyran looked at his watch. “The demonstration that will take place in about five minutes. But you gentlemen will have to come up to the roof with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Acad said.
“Neither am I,” Dedmon added.
“Shall I call my guards to help persuade you?” Tyran threatened.
The three elders looked to one another.
“We’ll go,” Liven said. “But this had better be the most remarkable thing we’ve ever seen.”
“It will be,” Tyran said. “It will be.”
Tyran and the elders reached the roof in four minutes. Acad looked as if he might expire right then and there from the journey.
“Now what?” Liven asked.
“Look off to the east.”
“What about it?”
“More specifically, look in the direction of the Cinemon suburbs—that wondrously large and exclusive selection of houses there,” Tyran said, pointing.
“You know that’s where I live,” Liven said with a frown.
“By no small coincidence, it is where you live!” Tyran said dramatically. “That single large house over on the Cinemon Ridge—off by itself—will be the site of our demonstration. Look through the telescopes I have provided, please.” He gestured to the telescopes. “Go on. Everyone have a look.”
The Marus Manuscripts Page 24
