Faye rested her chin on her hand, considering his words. “From what I’ve heard,” she reflected softly, “Cassie has proven quite adept at taking care of herself in the field. I don’t believe she needs to be rescued by a swashbuckling hero.” She paused. “Have you considered that she and Erik might be a bit too much alike?”
Griffin refused to be comforted by the observation. “I’m being ridiculous. Please forget everything I just said. I hardly know what I want or whom.” He continued to stare at the floor, refusing to make eye contact. “She could do better than me as well,” he added bitterly.
Faye rose to go. She rested her hand gently on his shoulder as she passed him. “I’ll leave you to the rest of your packing. You need some time to sort out what to take with you and what to leave behind.”
Chapter 6—Plagued with Difficulties
Abraham limped rigidly off the elevator into Dr. Aboud’s underground laboratory. He silently cursed the aches and pains that had begun to make themselves felt in his knees, his back and even his finger joints. He’d never felt really old before. The cares of recent months were taking their inevitable toll. He feared that before long he would need the assistance of a cane.
The diviner impatiently dismissed the thought and turned his attention to the foreign doctor who stood waiting to receive him. Aboud had traded his expensive suit jacket for an immaculate white lab coat. For the first time in Abraham’s memory, the mysterious little man actually seemed pleased to see him.
Giving a slight bow, Aboud extended a hand to his benefactor. “You are very welcome here, Mr. Metcalf. I and my staff are making great progress.”
“So, you have no cause for complaint this time, Doctor?” Abraham asked pointedly.
The doctor was in too good a mood to take offense. He shrugged off the comment. “All is as you promised. All is as I wished it to be. The design of the facility. The supplies I require. The skilled staff to execute my orders. Everything is quite satisfactory.”
Abraham gave a curt nod. He looked around the reception area which appeared as it would in any normal office setting. A coffeemaker on a table, magazines scattered about, chairs and couches lining the walls. His gaze traveled down a hallway that led off to the left. At the very end was a stainless-steel door with a glass inset. He began to walk toward it. “I wish to tour the facility to see what you’ve accomplished so far.”
Aboud hastened after him. “That will not be possible, sir.”
“What!” Abraham bristled, continuing to march toward the door.
“The lab is hot now.”
“I don’t care how warm it is in there!”
Aboud grasped him by the elbow. “I’m not referring to the ambient temperature, sir. I mean we’ve already brought in our experimental material.”
Abraham ignored the explanation and paused before the heavy metal door. He peered through the glass panel to see a small room lined with more stainless steel. A shower was suspended from the ceiling, and a drain was positioned in the middle of the floor. At the opposite end of the room was another metal door with another glass panel. Beyond it, he could see a silent fluorescent corridor. He scowled in puzzlement, not sure what to make of the tiny room.
As he gripped the metal door handle, Aboud threw his hands up. “Since you will not listen to me, I can only assume you have chosen to end your life this day. Very well. Proceed, by all means. It will not be a pleasant death, I can assure you.”
Abraham’s hand fell away from the door. He stared at the foreign doctor standing at his elbow.
Aboud regarded him with a sardonic smile. “I have your undivided attention at last.” The doctor stepped between Abraham and the door. “Beyond this point, we have collected the most deadly diseases known to man. You might consider this section of the facility as a maximum-security prison for pathogens. The room in which you are so interested is both an airlock and a decontamination chamber. No one enters this wing of the lab without the proper protective attire.”
“I see.” Abraham backed down slightly. “Then perhaps we should talk about your plans for the inmates of this facility elsewhere.”
“Yes, of course,” the doctor agreed. “Let us go into my private office where we can speak freely.”
Guiding Abraham by the elbow, the doctor nudged him back through the reception area and into another wing of the facility. They stopped before a wooden door bearing the letters, “Director’s Office.”
Aside from the requisite desk and office equipment, the room held a small alcove furnished with two cushioned chairs positioned on either side of an end table.
“Let us sit here,” Aboud prompted.
Abraham sank down into one of the low seats, grateful for the sake of his back that it was upholstered.
The doctor took the opposite chair and leaned forward eagerly. “At last, my work begins in earnest.”
“Have you chosen the instrument of my judgment yet?” Abraham asked cryptically.
“I have indeed. I considered all the usual alternatives, of course. Ebola, anthrax, flesh-eating bacteria, but in the end, I settled on plague.”
“Plague?” Metcalf echoed in surprise. “The disease spread by flea-infested rats which killed half of Europe during the Middle Ages?”
“There are many different strains of the bacteria,” Aboud demurred. “I envision nothing as clumsy as infecting a multitude of fleas and setting them loose in a haphazard fashion.”
“I should hope not.”
“Besides, people are more inclined to practice hygiene in this day and age. The fleas would stand little chance.” The doctor sat back in his chair, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I have something far more elegant in mind. More elegant and much more efficient.”
Abraham cocked a skeptical eyebrow but remained silent.
“I think we shall use pneumonic plague. Airborne bacteria which can be spread by a cough or a sneeze. All the victim needs to do is breathe in and breathe out.”
“Yes,” Metcalf murmured half to himself. “I think that may suit my purposes very well.”
“Of course, there is much to be done first,” Aboud hastened to add. “My staff is currently tasked with developing new strains of the bacteria. We need a far more lethal strain which will kill more quickly.”
“How quickly?”
“No more than twenty-four hours. Once we have developed a sufficiently deadly virus, we will begin to test it. First on small mammals and then on larger and larger ones. Soon we shall be in a position to know how long it will take for a mammal the size of a human to succumb.”
Abraham nodded, pleased with the doctor’s plan.
“Of course, I could focus my research much more accurately if you were to tell me who you intend to target,” Aboud hinted discretely.
The old man scowled fiercely. “Not just yet. I’ve told you enough to guide your efforts in the direction I wish them to go.”
Aboud pursed his lips at the rebuke. “Of course, just as you wish. I have enough information to design my experiments in a general way for the time being. However, when we are nearer the end of the road, and I am ready to create the delivery mechanism, I will need to know.”
“And when that days comes, you shall,” Metcalf agreed. “But not a moment sooner.”
The doctor stroked his chin, musing half to himself. “I think we should begin our tests using rats. Yes, that would be fitting. The Asian black rat was the first beast to carry the Black Death to the West.” He chuckled to himself.
“What’s so amusing?” Abraham asked suspiciously.
“I was thinking back to an anecdote I heard in medical school regarding the spread of the plague in Europe. The medieval church was sure the disease was of demonic origin. Since the church equated demons with cats—seeing them as agents of the devil and familiars of witches—it thought to cure the disease by eliminating them.”
“I dislike cats myself,” Metcalf agreed. “Vile independ
ent creatures. Always sneaking about. Subject to no authority but their own will.”
“It’s too bad you hold such a low opinion of them,” Aboud observed mildly. “During the height of the plague, the church exterminated hundreds of thousands of felines.”
“And your point is...” Abraham demanded, becoming impatient with the meandering tale.
“The one creature which might have effectively controlled the rat population of Europe was targeted for destruction. The church’s hysterical vendetta against demon cats actually accelerated the spread of the disease.” Aboud looked pensively at the ceiling for a moment. “It is often thus. Actions fueled by fear prove to be the quickest means of bringing about the very catastrophe one wishes to avoid.”
“Since you are so fond of cats, I take it you won’t be performing any of your experiments on them,” Metcalf observed sarcastically.
Aboud shrugged. “You mistake me. I have no particular attachment to the species. If they suit my purposes, I will use them, but I think I should rather begin with the common rat. Genus rattus, species rattus. It is fitting that he should be the first to die in our experiments.”
Abraham rose wincing, trying to mask the pain the effort cost him. He wasn’t that old yet. Piqued that the doctor should witness his moment of weakness, he said petulantly, “The Black Death was brought to Western shores by shipboard rats from your part of the world. On the vessels of foreign traders.”
Aboud chose not to rise to the bait. He stared coolly at his benefactor. “Then it is only fitting that the humble rat and a humble foreigner such as I should be the ones to bring the pestilence full circle. As it began, so shall it end.”
“Oh yes,” Abraham agreed softly. “We are fast approaching the end.”
Chapter 7—School Daze
Faye was in the kitchen kneading bread dough. Hannah was working quietly at the computer which had taken up permanent residence on the dining room table when a loud thumping at the front door interrupted both their occupations.
“Gracious, who’s making that racket?” Faye murmured half to herself, wiping her hands and heading toward the front of the house.
“I’ll get it.” Hannah sprang from her seat, but the door burst open on its own to reveal Zachary, out of breath, as he lugged a long cardboard box into the parlor.
“Somebody get the door,” he ordered as he hoisted the box upright and dragged it against the far wall.
Hannah complied.
Faye noticed that her house guest glanced into the foyer mirror to check her appearance. She needn’t have worried. Most teenage girls would have envied her fashion model figure, her straight blond hair, and her perfect ivory complexion. Hannah apparently cared a great deal what Zachary thought of her.
Faye observed that, for his part, her descendent had stopped wearing ripped blue jeans and faded T-shirts whenever he came to visit. Today he had donned corduroy pants and a fisherman’s sweater. He had also traded his porcupine hair style for a modest side part. The old woman guessed the change was motivated by a reciprocal desire to make a good impression on Hannah.
“I see you got it,” Faye observed cryptically.
Zach flashed a conspiratorial grin. “Yeah, it was the last one in stock, but I got it.”
“Got what?” Hannah asked in bemusement. The girl left the mirror and scurried over to see what he had brought.
“A present for you, my dear,” Faye replied.
“But it isn’t my birthday,” she objected in a flustered tone.
“No, we missed that some months back because you neglected to tell us it was your fifteenth birthday. Consider this a very belated gift.”
Hannah eyed the tall box dubiously. “Well, thank you.”
Zach couldn’t resist the urge to tease her. Turning to his ancestor, he said, “I don’t think she wants it, Gamma. I better take it back.”
Hannah rushed to stand between Zach and the box. “Oh no, don’t do that.”
“Maybe I should turn it over so that you’ll know what’s inside,” Zach offered. He flipped the back side of the box so that it faced the front of the room. The label displayed a picture of the contents.
“It’s... it’s...” Hannah stuttered. “A computer desk!”
“Not just ‘a’ computer desk,” Zach corrected. “Your computer desk. See, there’s a compartment on one side for a printer and for a tower on the other side. Then in the middle, there’s a drawer that slides out to hold the keyboard. Plus, there’s this cool shelf attachment that rests on the back of the desk so you can store books there too. You like?”
The girl beamed at him. “Oh, I like it very much. Whose idea was this?” She looked from the old woman to the boy.
They traded knowing glances before Faye answered. “As my great-great-something or other grandson pointed out to me, if I were to purchase a desk for you, I might have my dining room table restored to its original use. I told him the sort of desk I thought would be appropriate and he shopped around until he found one that would suit.”
“Thank you both, very much!” She rushed to give Faye a hug but expressed her thanks to Zach by smiling at him from a distance. Then she asked, “But where will the desk go? There isn’t enough space in my bedroom.”
“I thought we might designate a portion of the front parlor as your study corner,” suggested Faye.
“Here, over here,” Hannah pointed eagerly. “Right by the picture window so I can look out at the world.”
“Not much to see but grass and trees,” Zach murmured. “But the customer is always right. The corner by the window it is.”
It took him all of five minutes to relocate a curio stand and clear enough space for the desk. Then he moved the coffee table to the side of the room and laid the cardboard box flat in the middle of the floor.
Faye fetched scissors so that Zach could flip the box open.
Hannah stared at the blocks of wood inside. “I thought you said it was a desk.”
Zach, still kneeling on the floor, stared up at her in disbelief. “It’s not collapsible. I have to assemble it.”
“You?” Hannah sounded dubious.
“Yeah, me,” Zach retorted in an injured tone. “Believe it or not, I’m good at this sort of thing.”
Faye interceded. “Never mind, you two. While Zach is unpacking the pieces, I’ll fetch the tools from the kitchen. Hannah, you can bring us all some lemonade and those oatmeal cookies you baked last night.”
***
It took two hours to finish assembling the desk. The process might have gone quicker if Zach had actually read the instruction booklet as Hannah kept urging him to do. He replied that he was a free spirit and that all instruction manuals were written by fascists who wanted to control his thoughts. Faye refused to intervene, and even Hannah eventually gave up. Ultimately, Zachary’s trial-and-error approach prevailed, and the desk proudly took up residence in the corner of the parlor by the window which faced out over the front lawn.
Zach fetched a chair from the dining room, so Hannah could sit beside her new prized possession.
The junior carpenter rested from his labors by sprawling across half the couch and helping himself to another glass of lemonade. Faye sat down beside him.
“So, what do you think now?” Zach asked Hannah.
“I think you’re a skilled craftsman and that it was very kind of you to assemble my desk for me.”
“I’m sure Zach didn’t mind in the least,” Faye observed with a twinkle in her eye.
Her descendent blushed.
The two young people exchanged shy glances of mutual admiration which they thought Faye didn’t see. She chose not to mention it and changed the subject. “Hannah, getting you a study area of your own was just the first part of my plan.”
They both peered at Faye uncomprehendingly.
The old woman sighed. “It occurs to me that we can’t hide you away from the world forever. I doubt that your Nephilim pursuers w
ill think to look for you here. At some point, you’ll have to learn how to live in what your old associates might call the ‘Fallen World.’”
Hannah nodded gravely. “Yes, I know. It’s been months, and I’ve been working very hard using the internet and the television to understand how things are in your world. But...” she hesitated. “I know I can’t stay indoors forever.”
“Nor should you. That’s where Zach comes in.”
“Huh?” the boy asked suspiciously.
Turning to him, Faye added, “I want you to tutor Hannah.”
“Isn’t that what he’s doing already?” The girl sounded puzzled.
“Not exactly. He’s just been helping you use the internet, so you can get some insight into our strange Fallen ways. Now the time has come for you to learn subjects that are taught at school.”
Transferring her attention to the boy, Faye added, “Zach, I want you to bring all your lesson plans and textbooks over here, so Hannah can study the same courses as you. That way, in the fall she’ll be ready to attend classes at an ordinary high school with young people her own age.”
Hannah’s eyes glowed at the prospect. “Oh, I would like that very much.”
Zach seemed unconvinced. “So, you’re just gonna trot her over to your district high school like she fell out of the sky? The principal will want to know where she came from.”
“I’m quite prepared for that. My people can prepare paperwork showing that she’s been home-schooled until now.”
“Your people?” Hannah asked uncertainly.
Realizing that Faye had slipped, Zach leaped in with an explanation. “Yeah, it’s something we say out here in our world. It means Gamma knows some people who can help her with that. She knows a lot of people.”
Faye gave the boy a slight wink while Hannah was busy admiring her desk. Then she continued with her explanation. “Hannah is a year younger than you are, Zachary, so she’ll be starting at the level you’re at now. If you tutor her in your coursework, she’ll be that much ahead of her classmates. It will give her more time to adjust to the social atmosphere.”
The Arkana Mysteries Boxed Set Page 83
