Tales from the Voynich Manuscript and the Island of Jan Mayen

by Alexander Copperwhite

  "Are you all right?" the policeman asked.

  Dazed, holding his head in his hands, the driver got out and the only thing on his mind was seeing who he had just run over.

  "Oh, my God! Is he dead?" he asked.

  The strangers assembled there nodded silently. The young man's disfigured body and the puddle formed by his blood offered unequivocal proof of his demise.

  "I didn't want..." the stunned driver muttered.

  He had gone into shock by the time the ambulance arrived, and the doctor on the scene decided it would be wiser to have a second ambulance pick up the driver to avoid exacerbating his delicate mental state. After the attendants removed Carlos' body and examined the driver to be sure he hadn't suffered any serious injury that required emergency treatment, they cordoned off the area and drove away.

  The crowd began to disperse, chattering away about the force of the impact and the bad luck of the poor boy who had borne the brunt of the collision as they left the scene. Eventually, only the lone figure of the mysterious woman in the gray dress remained, staring at the empty sidewalk and the blood being washed away by the rain.

  "There's been an accident," the woman reported into her phone.

  "What kind of accident?" asked the voice on the other end of the line.

  "They ran over Carlos."

  "That's impossible."

  "He was killed instantly."

  "No way," was the response. "Find out what hospital they took him to."

  "Are you sure? That will be very risky."

  "Just do it. I'll get everything I need ready and go find him," he ordered.

  "All right, I'll call you back," the woman said.

  Across the street, the cab driver covered his mouth with his hand, unable to believe what he just witnessed.

  "Carpe diem. You just never know what may happen," he remarked.

  He looked in the rear-view mirror and exchanged glances with his passenger.

  "You're right," answered the man with the dark glasses and pressed his lips together.

  "Where do you want me to take you now?"

  "I think I'll get out here. This unfortunate incident has taken away my desire to continue enjoying this pleasant ride. You know what I mean."

  "Of course. The truth is right now I'd like nothing better than to go back home and hug my family."

  "Then do it. How much do I owe you for the ride?"

  "83 euros."

  "I have a 100 euro bill. You can keep the change."

  "Thanks a lot, sir."

  The man headed over to the accident site, took off his glasses and dialed a number on his phone.

  "We won't have to worry about that damn algorithm any more. At least for the moment."

  "And the driver?" asked a tired voice at the other end of the line.

  "He survived, as could be expected."

  "You know what you have to do?"

  "I've got everything under control. I'll take care of him tonight."

  "No loose ends," the voice ended the conversation and hung up.

  *

  The underground passageways beneath the hospital were nowhere near as clean and neat as the halls of the hospital itself. Not very many people went down there, only a handful of hospital attendants who picked up material from the storerooms to distribute in the rooms later. Baskets filled with dirty sheets occupied half of the passageways; the rest were filled with pallets loaded with latex gloves, sterilized bottles and unused syringes.

  "The highways of sickness and healing," Father Matthias often thought of calling them.

  He had chosen the least heavily traveled route to get to the hospital morgue, even though he didn't have a very clear idea of how he would treat Carlos without anyone interrupting him.

  The room, enveloped in a bluish haze produced by the low temperature resembled the interior of a refrigerator. The walls were white and so was the floor; all the medical instruments and furniture were made of stainless steel.

  "Where would they have put him?" Father Matthias wondered.

  Two walls were lined with small, hermetically sealed doors that kept their interiors completely insulated.

  Father Matthias took out his cellphone and called the woman in the gray dress:

  "Ana, there are more than 40 doors here, do you have any idea which one they put Carlos' body in?"

  "I'm afraid not. You'll have to open all of them."

  "All right, wait for me near the back entrance, just in case."

  "I'm parked right next to the truck entrance."

  "Good, stay there until I call you."

  He hung up and began opening the doors preserving the bodies one by one. The cadavers, lying on steel racks with the head looking towards the door, hadn't been covered with sheets.

  "They don't look anything like what we see in the moves," he muttered to himself.

  An old woman who appeared to be asleep, a youth with his head split open, a child with his chest stitched up; many racks were empty and the others concealed the harsh reality of death, what remained of the living. It was easier to remain ignorant of the frailty of human beings than to openly display it.

  "Where have they put you?" he wondered under his breath. "There's no time to lose."

  He decided to open the doors two at time, without taking the time to look over the deceased too closely. It bothered him, because he felt that it showed a lack of respect on his part. Since he had already dared to disturb the bodies, the least he could do was dedicate a brief prayer over them. But the situation simply didn't allow for any delay, and if he did take the time, it meant he would fail in his mission.

  "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

  He finally found Carlos a few minutes later. His corpse didn't reveal any particularly serious injuries externally, just some scratches, but his body was completely misshapen by the impact. It was entirely possible that not a single bone in his body was left intact.

  "OK, let's get to work," he said to Carlos' corpse. "I hope you're a strong guy, because your soul may have already left your body if you're not."

  Father Matthias left his black knapsack on a nearby gurney and took out a thick glass tumbler, a wooden mortar and pestle, and various plants in separate plastic baggies.

  "What are you doing here?" an alarmed attendant asked.

  — ...

  "Guard! Security!" he shouted.

  III – THE BODY SNATCHER

  The voice of the attendant calling for security echoed down the hallways. He was solidly built and Father Matthias would not find it easy to evade him. If he had to confront him face to face, he would undoubtedly get the worst of it.

  "I don't understand, why the big uproar?" said Father Matthias, feigning complete calmness. "I came down here at the request of the victim's family to pray for his soul."

  The attendant looked at him incredulously and then noticed what he was wearing.

  "Forgive me, Father, I didn't realize."

  "You are forgiven."

  "Are you done? I don't like having to look at dead bodies, I'm sorry... at these poor unfortunate souls, and even less when it's someone so young."

  "It was a genuine tragedy."

  "A car left him broken like a rag doll.”

  "So I've already seen," he nodded in agreement. "Well, look, since you're here and seem like a good person, I'd be very grateful if you would help me put his body on this gurney so that I may pray for him properly as I should."

  "That doesn't seem like a good idea to me, Father."

  "I know, but don't you think it's better than doing it in a hasty, superficial way in the door of a freezer?”

  "It's not a freezer," replied the attendant.

  "True, but can you deny that it looks a lot like one?"

  The attendant closed his eyes and stroked his chin.

  "You're right, father. It's no big deal to make things a little better."

  Without a second thought, the powerful man grabbed Carlos' corpse firmly and laid it down on the gurney. />
  "Don't take too long, Father."

  As the attendant turned around, Father Matthias raised the palm of his hand to his mouth and blew a powder made from roots into the attendant's face, blinding him.

  "But, what..."

  The well-built man lost consciousness instantly. His head slumped forward and his body swayed back and forth like a sail moving with the wind.

  "I've got you," said Father Matthias, catching him in his arms and slowly lowering him to the floor. "Don't worry, you'll wake up in a couple of hours and not remember a thing."

  He grabbed his cellphone and dialed Ana's number.

  "Change of plans ... I'm bringing the corpse."

  Without any further delay, he covered the body with a sheet and pushed the gurney through the hallways. He zigzagged around the laundry baskets and pallets loaded with medical materials. He courteously greeted a couple of cleaning women who were staying out of sight down there to escape from working, tucked his head down between his shoulders to hide from any potential security cameras, and went outside.

  He was just a little over 100 meters from Ana's car when he heard a voice behind him.

  "Stop!"

  He turned and saw a security guard running after him. He began to walk faster, ignoring the shouts of the guard.

  "I'm not in any shape for this kind of thing," he thought.

  He made it to Ana's car and opened the trunk. She came out of the car to help him and, just when they were on the verge of putting Carlos' body inside, the security guard all but collapsed on the gurney.

  "I have to work out more," he said, gasping for breath. "You left your Bible, Father."

  "Oh," said Father Matthias warily, knowing full well the Bible wasn't his.

  "When I saw you pushing the gurney, I knew right away it must have fallen off since you were in such a hurry."

  "Thanks very much for your concern."

  "You're welcome, I always say that if we don't help one another, we only make this world a living hell."

  "You're right to a certain extent."

  "Let me give you a hand with this," the security guard offered.

  "No! It's not necessary, thank you," replied Ana sharply, growing more upset.

  "But it doesn't bother me at all and it sure looks pretty heavy."

  "If you don't mind, we'll load these ... ghmmmm... things in the truck ourselves and you can take the gurney back."

  "OK, no problem," he replied with a smile.

  Ana pushed the corpse while Father Matthias did his best to keep it hidden under the sheet. But the resounding thud the corpse made when it landed in the trunk attracted the guard's attention again.

  "Uhhmm, by the way... what exactly is that?"

  "You know... material for ecclesiastical study."

  "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to move into position to get a good look inside while Ana attempted to block him by shifting her body to stay in front of him.

  "Wax from the remains," whispered Father Matthias.

  "How disgusting!" exclaimed the guard, and looked at his hand.

  "You haven't changed your mind?"

  "About what?"

  "About helping us."

  As he shook his head no and looked at the gurney, nauseous now, he said:

  "No, no. Of course, I'm going to help you."

  "Thanks a lot," said Ana and shook his hand.

  "And thanks for bringing me my Bible," added Father Matthias as he opened the car door.

  *

  In the basement of a library in suburban Amsterdam, Ana was preparing a spectrometer for monitoring Father Matthias' operation as fast as she could.

  "Back with that piece of junk again," he said.

  "I like watching how it moves."

  "OK, fine, but right now I need you to help me. We've lost too much time and I don't know if we'll be able to pull this off."

  The boiler room predictably smelled strongly of diesel fumes and had been converted into his combination home, study room and laboratory over the past few years. The handful of people who knew of his existence didn't pay any attention to him. Only Ana took an interest in him when she first spotted him walking slowly up and down the aisles of the library a few years before, looking for a botany book. It struck her as curious to see a priest dressed in an old cassock wandering around a town that didn't even have a church.

  "Bring the crystal globe over to me," Father Matthias insisted, fully concentrated on his work.

  "You mean the prison of souls?" Anna asked.

  "I've told you not to call it that."

  "What difference does it make what I call it?"

  They lay Carlos face down on top of the table and completely uncovered him. Then Father Matthias applied a bit of Vaseline to a small opening in the thick crystal globe and placed it on Carlos' back.

  "One, two, three..." counted the priest, as his fingers examined the corpse by tapping its spinal column.

  When he found the precise spot, he placed the globe there and secured it with duct tape.

  "It's not very modern but it will work."

  "Are you sure? We've only practiced on dogs and cats until now. According to what the book says, it's not the same thing with a human as an animal."

  "That's why the container is bigger. At any rate, what else is left for us other than to believe?"

  Ana positioned herself near the spectrometer and took hold of a transparent prism she had for observing the colors, waiting for Father Matthias to finish mixing the plants he had just carefully selected in a granite mortar and pestle.

  "Are you ready, Ana?"

  "I am."

  He rubbed his hands, applied the paste he just made on to Carlos' skin around the globe and pressed down forcefully to create heat.

  "Here it comes!" exclaimed Ana a few minutes later.

  IV – MENDING

  The needles on the spectrometer were moving wildly from left to right as if they were possessed. The table, chairs, bed, plates and glasses were all shaking. The air became denser, causing the dust particles to float slower, almost as if they were submerged in a water tank.

  "Are you all right?" Anna asked.

  Father Matthias didn't answer, but his facial features betrayed that he was suffering greatly. The skin on the back of the cadaver, reddened by an intense heat, formed tiny lumps that appeared, moved a few centimeters and then disappeared. An invisible force attempted to dislodge the crystal globe as if an invisible hand was pressing upwards against it, insistently shaking it from left to right to push it away from the body.

  "I see it now," said Ana. "It's the loveliest one I've seen so far."

  She was viewing an aurora of interlaced colors dancing before her eyes through the prism she held up to her face.

  "My hands hurt, I don't think I'm going to be able to hold on," Father Matthias warned.

  "Hang in there a little longer."

  The colors emerged from the lifeless back of Carlos. They floated inside the globe, curving and bending around one another and spinning new strands as they came in contact with the circular surface of the glass. But the more colors were added, the harder it became for Father Matthias to stay on his feet.

  "I can't hold out any more," he cried.

  "Come on, you can do it, just a little bit longer," Ana encouraged him.

  Finally, the aurora of colors faded into a blurry line of translucent smoke that appeared to move like the fins of a fish.

  "It's gone," said Ana and hurried over to hold down the crystal globe.

  An exhausted Father Matthias slumped to the floor and briefly closed his eyes to counter the pain coursing through his body.

  "Now we can fix Carlos' body," he said in a trembling voice.

  *

  At that moment... in Amsterdam...

  "The morgue has reported the disappearance of a cadaver," related the man in the dark glasses into his phone.

  "Is it our man?" asked the weary voice.

  "Yes.

  “We
ll, don't waste any more time. Get out there and find it," he shouted, tired and absolutely certain that that damn priest was behind everything.

  "Don't worry. We'll find it."

  "I want you to call Thomas."

  "You know that it's a personal thing for him and he'll stop at nothing."

  "That's precisely why I want you to call him."

  "As you wish," the man in the dark glasses agreed and hung up.

  *

  Ana applied a few thick poultices to the more severely damaged parts of Carlos' body. Father Matthias marked the areas that should treated with a felt-tip pen, and indicated to Ana what mixture should be applied there. Meanwhile, there didn’t appear to be anything inside the crystal globe, now sitting on top of the bed off in one corner, even though anyone who came close enough would be able to feel the heat it was giving off.

  The two worked silently, not counting and apparently oblivious to the passing hours. Once they finished marking and treating the body, they wrapped it up in transparent kitchen wrap until it wound up looking like a plastic mummy.

  "What the hell is that?" asked the shocked library director who had come downstairs to visit the priest.

  Neither one knew what to say.

  "When I heard on the news that a corpse had been stolen from the morgue, I would never have imagined I would find it in the basement of my library."

  "It's not what it looks like, Mark," said Father Matthias.

  "Oh, of course. I knew that having you here would bring me problems sooner or later. And truthfully, I always imagined it would be over something as absurd and outrageous as what I'm seeing now. When you first came here and asked me if I would help you, I didn't ask you for any explanation because I knew you were a good person. But I also warned you that the moment your past caught up with you, I would be forced to throw you out."

  "That's true. You have always been very kind and discreet."

  "I'm also a person with principles I hold dear. You know very well I have to report you to the police."

  "I know. I understand."

  The library director clenched his teeth, stroked his white beard, took off his tie and sat down on the stairs.