by Z. M. Wilmot
Chapter Three
At precisely eight o’clock the next day, on the Christian Sabbath, Henry Devalier arrived at the residence of one Siegfried Reinhouer. Set amidst the suburbs of the great city, nothing would cause the professor’s house to stand out overly much. It was painted the same dull white that the surrounding abodes were, and had the same peeling picket fence around the property. The grass was too long and the yard needed weeding, but this in itself was not unusual.
Dark had nearly descended upon the neighborhood, and its imminent arrival made Devalier quite uncomfortable. He hesitantly made his way down a narrow, overgrown cobblestone path leading straight to a series of three steps that terminated in a small porch. A rocking chair and a shattered stool inhabited the deck, on either side of the brown door, which in turn was set into the white wall.
The door’s only adornments were the customary knob and an ancient brass knocker in the shape of a lion. Hesitantly, Devalier grasped the knocker and pulled it back. After a further moment’s hesitation, he knocked three times. Upon hearing no response from within, he repeated the cadence twice more, until he finally heard movement from the second storey.
There was a clunking down the stairs, and then the sound of footsteps approaching the door. Devalier heard a padlock being moved and slid aside, and the door opened a crack. “Who’s there?”
“Henry. Devalier – we had an appointment?”
The man on the other side of the door grunted. “You’re late – it’s a minute past.”
Devalier glanced at his watch; it still read eight o’clock. The youth decided not to bring it up to the old man, lest he become upset. “My apologies, professor.”
“‘salright. Come in, then.” The door opened the rest of the way, and Henry slipped inside. Reinhouer, for the man behind the door was indeed him, closed it behind him immediately.
Directly inside the door, as is typical in most houses of this day and age, was a small coat room. As his host moved deeper inside, Devalier took the opportunity to remove his coat and boots, setting them aside. He kept his hat with him, but removed it from his head.
“Come on, then; I thought you wanted to see my device!” Reinhouer’s voice held an air of gleeful anticipation and impatience; any reluctance he may have had about shewing his device to another had vanished. As he followed the aged scholar, Henry noted that the man still wore his mud-encrusted boots, and wondered idly if he had removed them since returning here yesterday.
He passed through the living room rather quickly, but saw in there nothing of note, merely a broken television, an old, moth-eaten carpet, and a rapidly aging sofa missing half of its cushions. Devalier caught a brief glimpse of a kitchen and dining room on his right as he entered a corridor that took a sharp turn ahead. Around the corner was a staircase and a lavatory. Siegfried climbed the stairs rather quickly for a man of his age. Devalier continued at a similar pace, openly curious about what he was about to see.
At the top of the stairs was a short hallway, with a door on either side about halfway down it. Reinhouer turned into the left one, and Henry followed suit. As he turned to step into the room, his hand slipped into the pocket of his trousers, where there was a cheque for one million and a half dollars. Satisfied that it was, indeed, still there, he turned his attention to the room in front of him.
The room itself was fairly large, but it was not this feature of the place that drew one’s attention, nor any other feature. It was the contents of the room that drew the eye, for at least two-thirds of the considerable space was inhabited by a monstrous conglomeration of pipes, dials, wires, and gauges.
Devalier was thus caused to stop in his tracks at the sight of the vast apparatus. His mind temporarily out of sorts as he struggled to comprehend the device in front of him, his first absurd thought was to wonder how the device did not fall through the old wooden floor to the storey below.
“Impressive sight, isn’t it, young sir?” There was a liberal dousing of pride evident in the professor’s weary voice.
All Henry Devalier could do was nod. Siegfried grinned at his astonishment. “Of course, I am certain that many of these parts are unnecessary, but I need to determine which ones are so.”
Devalier finally regained control of his senses. “I see… may I ask a question?”
Reinhouer nodded. “Fire away.”
“If all you need to do to streamline it is take off the unnecessary parts, then why do you feel that you need the Connolly Grant money?”
The professor sighed, evidently disappointed in the nature of the question. “I had thought you would ask as much. I need time to do all of this, as I am sure you could guess. Time spent not working. I may be a tad obsessed, but I am not yet ready to give up my livelihood for this device. If the device is to be completed in any reasonable amount of time – in other words, before I pass away – I will need to take at least a semester of leave, and with my performance as of late, I have doubts as to whether or not this absence would be paid.
“Other than time, it must be noted that the parts frequently need replacing, and the materials are not cheap; particularly the diamond and gold elements I need. The device could, in theory, be made with substitutes for those two ingredients, but its efficiency level would plummet significantly, and I would prefer to keep it at least at its current level.
“The device is also imperfect. That is to say, it does not shew a perfect image of our sister dimension, and still needs refinement. For that, I will need funds to purchase new supplies.” He sighed. “With my current budget and free time, I will be long dead before any visible progress is made on the machine. I can no longer go on like I have. Without more time and monies, the project will have to be halted.”
Devalier smiled. “Your financial troubles are over, professor.” The man removed from his pocket the cheque, and handed it to the professor. Reinhouer peered through his thick glasses at the paper, and his eyes widened ever so slightly in astonishment as he read the number.
“You were not in jest when you claimed that you were giving away your fortune, I can see.”
“Half my fortune,” Henry corrected, still smiling. “I do expect to see results from this, professor. All I ask is that you do not disappoint me.”
Reinhouer nodded and pocketed the cheque. He gazed then for the first time into the eyes of Henry Devalier. “Why is it that you have chosen to give this funding to me?”
“I told you that yesterday, professor: your presentation offered the most creative and engaging ideas.”
“I ask you this politely and with the greatest gratitude, Henry Devalier: please do not lie to me. There is another reason that you have chosen me for this honor. You lie badly.”
Devalier smiled sadly. “I am fully aware, sir. And yes, I have another motive for donating my fortune to you. I never had planned on giving it to any of the others. I had heard of your project through rumour and hearsay, and came to the grant presentations to confirm what I had heard of your experiments. I have a vested interest in your results.”
Siegfried raised a single bushy white eyebrow. “And what, pray tell, is this interest?”
Henry sighed. “It is no less than a curse which has haunted my family’s bloodline for ten generations.”
“A curse? What does a curse have to do with my research?”
“Please let me finish, sir,” asked Devalier. Reinhouer nodded shortly in response and remained silent. “Ever since my very great grandfather took a walk in the twisted woods of Gorey’s Hollow, this curse has laid itself upon my family. He never would speak of what happened in there, but rumour tells that the very next day he was found dead in the fields, of no apparent cause: not even poison. Over the years since, at least three-quarters of my family have met their end in exceedingly mysterious and disturbing circumstances. Spontaneous human combustion seems to follow us like a hound-dog, and at least three in every generation have perished from a burst blood vessel. Sudden death syndrome plagues us, and at least five have van
ished without a trace in their own homes… with others present in the room. All of my uncles were slain by extreme manifestations of stigmata, and I myself have had experiences that almost amounted to a deadly chill. Perhaps these events would have gone without notice had they occurred further apart, but they did not. Our family had actually grown to enormous proportions as a result of these sudden and inexplicable deaths; it is difficult to continue on the family line when most of one’s children die without warning.
“I am sure that now you can see why your research intrigues me so; for me, it could be a matter of life and death. If something can be done to predict or prevent these occurrences, perhaps I can cheat the curse without having to rely on being one of the lucky few who escape.”
Henry waited in silence for Reinhouer’s reception of his speech. In time, the old man nodded. “I see. The obvious explanation for your situation is that your old however many times great grandfather somehow upset an entity in our sister dimension, who has since been wreaking revenge upon his bloodline.”
Devalier nodded, then hesitated. “But, in your presentation, did you not mention that these occurrences occur accidentally and with no intention of inflicting harm?”
It was Reinhouer’s turn to hesitate. “I must confess that I… sugarcoated my presentation for our audience, so as to avoid a panic. Not that that would have ended up being necessary, but what is done is done.” He took a deep breath. “The truth, my son, is that while some of these phenomena are, in fact, accidental, an equal number of them are not, and are meant to inflict harm upon us.” Devalier paled visibly. “Those who inhabit our sister dimension – which I have deemed ‘the Parallax,’ for reasons I can later explain – are much more advanced and, frankly, much more intelligent than we are. They know of our dimension’s existence, and have for a long while. Some may be friendly… but as far as I have been able to tell, most are not. Many of the ‘accidents’ that these beings cause are the result of mischievous or openly hostile behavior on their part. From what I have seen of them, this curse you describe does not seem to be beyond them.”
Reinhouer pursed his lips. “So then, I take it, the price that you ask of me is success in my attempt to find a way to foresee and prevent these inexplicable phenomena, so that you may use it yourself and circumvent this… ‘curse?’”
Devalier nodded. “Precisely, professor. Is it too much to ask of you?”
Siegfried broke out into a smile. “Of course not, Henry. I would be delighted to do what you ask of me.”
Henry smiled lightly himself. “I am glad. Can you start immediately?”
Siegfried shook his head immediately. “I am sorry, but I still have three more weeks to teach at the university, and need to then request to be dropped from the summer session. At the very least, it will be three weeks before I can begin to make significant headway.”
Devalier was shaking his head. “I may not have that long – in fact, I may have less.”
“Oh?” Siegfried asked.
“I am the last of my line.” Henry leaned against the wall, suddenly looking unsure of himself. “My aunt and great-grandfather were my last two living relatives. The rest of my rather extensive family has succumbed to the curse. If what you say about this ‘Parallax’ dimension is true, then these beings that have been attacking my family now only have one target: me.”
The professor brought his arm up to his chin and stroked his blazing white beard. “Then we have a conundrum. I hardly know you, sir Henry, and as such am not quite reconciled to the idea of throwing out my entire career for you.”
Henry stood up straight. “That won’t be necessary, professor – I would not ask that of anyone. It shall be taken care of – I will make a considerable donation to the school on the morrow, on the stipulation that you be put on indefinite, paid leave to work on something for me, and when all is said and done, another handsome donation shall be made.” He smiled. “One can’t put a price on one’s own life.”
Siegfried stared at the young man in his room, astonished. “Paid leave? How large will your donation be?” Henry merely shrugged in response.
Reinhouer took the hint. “Then I suppose I can start as soon as I cash the cheque. I’ll do so first thing tomorrow.” A thought suddenly struck the older man.
“If my suspicions are correct, and your ‘curse’ is in fact the work of vengeful extra-dimensional beings, then it might not be safe for you to travel extensively until we have mapped out the locale in terms of its connection to the Parallax.
“Of course, to do that, we first need a more portable device. As of now, it only lets me map the areas directly surrounding my home.” He pursed his lips as yet another thought struck him. “And then we run into another problem – from what I have been able to tell, the weak points in our reality – the bridges between our dimension and that of the Parallax – move. Not rapidly, but there is a definite, sometimes even visible, movement. I have been tracing these movements from the window, and have been working on a formula that will predict the actions of this dimensional drift. I haven’t, I’m afraid, made much headway in that department; the movement seems to be completely random.” Seeing the ever-paling face of Henry Devalier, Reinhouer relented. “But I’m sure with the extra time and monies you have granted me, I shall soon be able to predict the movement.”
Devalier looked terrified – it had not occurred to him that in order to stay alive, his movements might have to be restricted. “But… I have to go to university…”
Reinhouer took a step forward. “I can vouch for you if you call in with a deathly illness. Surely that, combined with your seemingly impressive donation, can get you out of the last three weeks of the semester.”
Devalier still looked unsure, and Siegfried continued. “It is, of course, in the end up to you… but keep this in mind: if you are dead, a doctorate will do you little good.” After a few moments, Henry nodded slowly. Reinhouer smiled warmly. “Don’t look so scared, son. You’ve made it this far. You can make it a little longer. With the time you have given me to devote to the project, I am sure that by summer’s end I will have tangible results for you.” Henry began to speak, but the professor raised his hand to silence him. “And I will first concentrate my efforts on finding where you can be safe. You can place your trust in me, Henry Devalier.” Siegfried looked directly into the eyes of the young man before him, sending through them a message to young Henry: he would be safe.
Gradually, Henry nodded again, and Reinhouer smiled. “You really don’t need to be so scared – if anything, you should be less afraid. Before you met me, you knew not when or where the curse would strike, and lived in constant fear of it. But I can explain your curse to you, and help you prevent its deadly touch. I know where you can stay to become safe from those who hunt you. Your curse is not longer a mystery – I can reduce it into scientific theories for you, and teach you to protect yourself from it.” Henry did not look particularly cheered.
“Was there anything from your home that you wished to have? That you need?” Henry nodded. “Then I shall retrieve them for you on the morrow – you are not to leave this household unless you absolutely must. The weak points have not approached this place for many weeks, and none have ever entered my home.” Henry agreed that it seemed to be a good and sound plan. The next few minutes were spent in a mostly one-sided discussion of living arrangements, such as where Henry would lodge for the duration – namely, in the spare room downstairs, which came off from the kitchen – and also what items he needed from his home.
Upon the conclusion of affairs, professor Reinhouer was awakened to the original reason for Henry’s visit. “Ah… would you like your demonstration?”
Devalier brightened up a bit. “I believe I would.”
Reinhouer nodded and walked to the machine. He fiddled with several knobs and buttons, and the machine began to hum. He bent down and picked a helmet up off the ground. It appeared to be a modified old German war helmet, with a large pair of goggles set into
the front. The professor handed the headgear to his companion, who spent several minutes donning the apparatus. When the chinstrap was finally clipped shut and firmly in place, Henry nodded.
“And here we go,” murmured the professor. He pulled a large lever with a red rubber cap, and the humming grew louder for several moments. A gasp of astonishment came from Henry, who staggered backwards.
“It’s… so strange…”
Siegfried nodded in understanding. “Yes – it’s not what one would expect-”
Without warning, the humming ceased abruptly, and the dials and gauges all moved to their resting positions. Reinhouer turned back to his controls and attempted to remedy the problem, but to no avail.
“What happened?” cried out Henry, wrenching the helmet from his head. The student had enough scientific decorum to not throw the visualizing device onto the floor. “Can it be fixed?”
“Calm yourself,” said Reinhouer. “This has happened before – or something similar has, at any rate. This will be just a minor setback – I should have the machine up and running in a day or two.”
“A day or two could be the difference between life and death!” Henry’s voice was becoming agitated again.
The professor nodded solemnly. “I am aware, but there is naught that I can do. The bridges should still be far distant, and they will not move fast enough to arrive here before I have again fixed the machine. Do not trouble yourself.” He laid a calming hand upon the young man’s shoulder, and with his other took the helmet. “Here, let us descend to the kitchen and I shall brew you a batch of tea.” He steered the petrified Henry down the stairs and into the kitchen, seating him down at a small table. The professor put a pot of water on to boil, and sat down next to the trembling man. He laid his hand upon young Devalier’s. “It will all be alright. Do not worry.” Henry smiled half-heartedly in response, and Reinhouer patted his hand. “I’ll tell you what – after the tea is done, I will drive straight to your residence to pick up your things and bring them here. I’ll fetch pen and paper.”
He did so, and upon his return he had his new charge write upon it that which he needed and wished to have with him, as well as their precise locations within the house. By the time he was done, he was no longer shaking, had calmed down considerably, and the tea was made. Reinhouer departed immediately from his house, taking Henry’s keys and car and making the journey across the city to the Devalier residence.
