by Nick Baker
‘What happened?’ said Lex.
‘Amazingly, the dog survived and lived out its life. When it died, Piotrowski retrieved the stone and kept it safe for the next stage of the experiment.’
‘Which was what?’ Aurelia asked.
‘He implanted the stone inside the skull of a puppy.’
‘How perfectly barbaric. What was the outcome?’ said Aurelia.
‘The transformation was instantaneous. The dog immediately displayed identical traits to Richelle, even answering to the former dog’s name whenever it was called and performing tricks a puppy of its age could never have learnt. You may wonder whether this was a coincidence, and I suspect even Piotrowski harboured some doubts, but one final encounter convinced him that the stone had somehow subsumed the soul of his previous pet to flourish within the puppy.’
‘What happened?’ said Lex.
‘Piotrowski was called away on business shortly after he had performed the operation on Richelle. He left the dog in the care of the physician who had aided him with the surgery, a cruel man by the name of Leer. Leer mistreated the dog, leaving it without food and beating it when it complained. On Piotrowski’s return, the dog was a cowering wreck. Piotrowski was furious at how the dog had been treated, and after a harsh exchange of words, he expelled Leer from his house with the instruction never to return.
‘Several years later, Piotrowski was out on the streets taking the puppy for a stroll. All of a sudden, the dog began to strain on its leash and whimper as if in great pain. Piotrowski could not understand what was wrong, but when he looked up, he spotted Leer strolling towards him. Piotrowski promptly turned on his heels, and as he retreated, the puppy instantly calmed down and regained its former benign disposition.’
‘The final piece of evidence Piotrowski needed to convince himself that the soul of Richelle lived on in that of the puppy!’ Strange exclaimed.
‘Exactly!’ Frankl concurred.
‘What did Piotrowski do next?’ said Aurelia.
‘He implanted the stone into the brain of a human!’
The expectant silence that followed was interrupted by a distant rumbling as of thunder.
Aurelia shuffled uncomfortably on the wet stone slabs and looked uneasily at the large inlet pipe in the dim, guttering candlelight. ‘I think there’s more water coming out of the pipe,’ she said.
‘You’re mistaken, Aurelia. Now, I’ve almost finished,’ said Frankl dismissively, quickly resuming his narration. ‘After performing the recondite alchemy to produce a fresh stone, Piotrowski began the search for a suitable recipient. He selected an ageing disciple from the Brotherhood’s ranks for whom the offer of immortal life was too much to forego. We do not know how long the man survived or whether he saw out the natural conclusion of his life, but Piotrowski reclaimed the stone less than a year after it was placed. He then offered a large sum of money to a beggar by the name of de Groot to be the next recipient of the stone. Not surprisingly, the man did not refuse.
‘Unfortunately, the result of the operation was not as Piotrowski had anticipated and led to terrible consequences. It is, perhaps, best if I read Piotrowski’s observations of what happened,’ said Frankl, retrieving a piece of paper from inside his coat. He leant forwards to peer at the notes in the dim light and began to read.
‘I conducted the chirurgery in the same fashion as I had before, exposing the skull through a small incision in the scalp and performing a trephination to expose the brain. I developed a pocket beneath the Dura into which I delivered the stone. The wound was closed with the finest of thread and doused liberally with iodine to prevent sepsis. Although de Groot had been sedated with a large dose of alcohol, it was not long before the effects of the chirurgery became discernible. Almost at once, as he aroused from his slumber, de Groot clutched at his head and moaned as if in great pain. He clawed at the wound like a mangy animal and flailed his arms, attempting to undo the good work I had performed on him. It took two of us to restrain him, but this had little effect on the distress he was experiencing. At first, I wondered whether the reaction was caused by the firewater he had ingested, but it soon became evident that something profound was occurring. It was as if a battle was being waged deep within the man’s head. I immediately concluded that I was witnessing a confrontation between the soul trapped within the stone and the mind of de Groot, a battle for supremacy if you will. I am afraid I had not anticipated this, nor could I have foreseen what would happen next. De Groot began convulsing like a man possessed, and when the paroxysm passed, he threw off the bonds that restrained him. As he approached, I looked deep into his eyes, but all I saw was a feral intensity, hinting at inchoate madness. He pushed past me with an unnatural strength the equal of a dozen men and escaped by dislodging a sturdy wooden door. Despite my fervent attempts to follow, de Groot disappeared into the narrow city streets as if he still retained the streetwise sense he had acquired through years of living as a vagabond. After hours of futile searching, I returned, disconsolate at my folly and the loss of this madman.’
‘You’re not trying to tell us that this is another of your wild goose chases, are you, Josef?’ said Aurelia irritably.
Lex furrowed his brow. ‘I hope recovering the manuscript was not in vain,’ he said, challenging Frankl to prove his fear unfounded.
‘I’m afraid it doesn’t get any better,’ replied Frankl matter-of-factly. ‘Two days after de Groot escaped, a vicious murder was committed. Piotrowski thought nothing of it, but when a witness came forward bearing the description of a man looking uncannily like de Groot leaving the scene of the butchering of an innocent citizen, he had no choice but to go to the Brotherhood elders and explain what he’d been doing behind their backs. The Brotherhood was desperate to hide the truth, knowing there would be repercussions in light of Piotrowski’s necromancy. They launched a frantic search for the madman, and fortunately for them, they apprehended de Groot before the city protectorate could get their hands on him. The elders immediately commanded Piotrowski to prepare de Groot for surgery. Remarkably, once the stone was removed, de Groot’s demeanour immediately returned to how it had been before the operation, and despite having no recollection of the macabre events that had taken place, it was as if by removing the stone, he had been cured of a temporary madness.’
‘What did the Brotherhood do?’ said Lex.
‘Not surprisingly, the elders decided that further experimentation was too dangerous to contemplate. They elected to preserve Piotrowski’s knowledge for a time when greater wisdom would allow them to proceed without further misfortune. They forbade Piotrowski from concluding his work and made him conceal what he knew in an unbreakable cipher. Whether the Brotherhood ever intended to resurrect Piotrowski’s terrible secret, we do not know, for Alfons Piotrowski disappeared without trace soon after he’d finished writing.’
‘What happened to the manuscripts?’ said Lex.
Frankl shook his head. ‘We do not know. How they got to where we found them is not clear.’
‘It makes no sense to me. If, as you say, these books were so important, the Brotherhood would have kept them hidden–’ said Lex.
‘Er, yes, or they would have had them destroyed if they never had any intention of utilising the information they contained,’ Strange cut in.
‘Yes, but we have no idea what happened to the Brotherhood,’ said Frankl. ‘Some say that the Brotherhood endures, but if, as I suspect, it died out, then who knows what may have happened to their secrets?’
‘Perhaps you’re right, Josef, but I, er, remain unconvinced. It puzzles me that Piotrowski disappeared soon after he concealed the secret. The assumption has always been that he was murdered, but a man driven by an obsession with the stone would not give up. Piotrowski knew that he had lost the Brotherhood’s support. He would also have known that his life was in danger. Perhaps he manufactured his own disappearance so that he could continue with his work in secret. This seems a far more, er, plausible explanation to me,’ conclu
ded Strange.
Once again, there was a distant rumbling, but this time, it was accompanied by a palpable shaking of the chamber.
‘What was that?’ Aurelia screeched once the noise had abated, looking uneasily around her.
‘You’re worrying unnecessarily, Aurelia,’ Frankl replied. ‘Tell her, Lex. There are always strange noises down here,’ he said unconvincingly.
‘Hmm. You may be right, Josef, but never anything like that. We’d better get out of here,’ Lex replied.
‘There’s not much more to discuss, as a matter of fact,’ said Frankl. ‘Just a few more minutes.’
‘Well, get on with it, will you?’ said Aurelia. ‘Whatever happened to Piotrowski is irrelevant. What’s more, Josef, you bring us here on the pretext of a momentous discovery then tell us that the manuscript reveals nothing. How much longer do we have to endure this charade?’
Frankl’s stared menacingly. ‘Charade? You’ll hear me out, Aurelia!’ he commanded.
The chamber remained eerily silent once the reverberating boom of Frankl’s voice had died down.
‘Er, please continue, Josef,’ said Strange eventually.
Frankl nodded. ‘I admit that the quest to find Piotrowski’s secret has been a disappointment, but it made me realise what Pearly was trying to tell me on the night that he died. If I take you back to the events of that evening, all will become clear.’
‘The sooner you explain yourself, the sooner we can all get out of here,’ said Aurelia, looking apprehensively at the water now flowing freely from the pipe.
‘On the night in question,’ Frankl began, speaking more quickly now, ‘Lex and I accompanied Pearly to a factory in the East End on a simple errand. Internal Security must have been tipped off because they were swarming all over the place as soon as we broke in. We were worried about how it would all end, yet it didn’t seem to bother Pearly; it was almost as if he knew what would happen. He expected Price to come; it was just a question of when. He dispatched Lex up to the roof with the instruction to call him the moment Price arrived.’
‘I remember it well,’ said Lex, nodding his tousled head in corroboration.
‘Once I was alone with Pearly, his composure evaporated,’ Frankl continued. ‘He became more and more agitated, although at first, he wasn’t prepared to talk. All he did was prowl back and forth, mumbling to himself as if he was deliberating over something. I didn’t dare approach him. You know how unpredictable he could be when overcome by one of his dark moods. He eventually reached a decision, and with it, his anxiety evaporated. He called me over, and we sat in silence in a corner of that miserable factory, until, at last, he began to speak. It was as if he had an inkling of what was about to happen, although quite how is beyond me. I’ve thought about what transpired many times since, but I still can’t imagine what was going through Pearly’s head.’
‘What did he say?’ said Aurelia.
‘Quite simply, he told me what I had to do if he died.’
‘He knew?’
‘I don’t think so, but he must have considered it a possibility, otherwise, he would never have brought it up. You can imagine my reaction. We all knew what Pearly was capable of, and although the thought of him dying was inconceivable, he was insistent.’
‘What did he tell you?’ said Aurelia.
‘That I had to recover an object.’
‘So why have we never learnt of this before?’ said Aurelia.
‘Pearly made me swear not to divulge anything until I’d worked it out for myself … it’s only now, after all these years, that I’ve finally reached that point.’
‘Go on,’ she prompted.
‘I admit Pearly’s behaviour confused me, and I had no idea what he was talking about, so I just asked him straight out. He reacted by showing me a scar on the back of his neck. In all the time I’d known him, I’d never seen that scar before. He assured me it had been there for several years. Perhaps you were aware of it, Aurelia?’
Aurelia shook her head. ‘Er, well … no, as a matter of fact, I wasn’t,’ she said uncertainly.
Frankl smirked in self-satisfaction. ‘Pearly explained to me that he’d had an implant surgically inserted next to the base of his brain. He said it was imperative that I retrieve it in the event of his death.’
‘Did he tell you anything else about this, er, implant?’ queried Strange, excitement tingeing his voice.
‘I’m afraid not, Abel. Naturally, I asked him, but he steadfastly refused to answer.’
‘Er, why?’ Strange pressed.
‘I do not believe that Pearly seriously considered he would die that night, hence his reluctance to tell me much about the implant and why it was placed there. All he would say was that it was crucial I recovered what he referred to as “the stone”. He was determined that it should not fall into Price’s hands.’
‘What were you meant to do with this stone?’ demanded Aurelia.
‘He said I was to guard it in a place where no one would ever find it. He also hinted at some vital information hidden in a secret cache of his. After his death, Internal Security went through every place he was known to have frequented, looking for evidence to justify their persecution of the Order. We were in disarray and our supporters long gone. I didn’t dare begin the search for whatever Pearly had been safeguarding until the furore had died down.’
‘I presume you eventually found this cache?’ Lex asked.
Frankl nodded. ‘Pearly told me to seek out Abel. He wouldn’t tell me the exact whereabouts of the cache other than that it was located at the Academy, but I had to wait until it was safe. I laid low after Pearly’s death, hiding as best as I could, trying to stay ahead of the detestable Fox. I left the country to regroup, and it was several years before it was safe enough for me to return. By then, Abel had wheedled his way back into Price’s confidence by convincing him that he knew nothing of the Order or its machinations, and that he’d been little more than Pearly’s puppet. In this way, Abel kept his position at the Academy and even managed to inveigle his way into Price’s beloved Council.’
‘Where did you find the cache?’ said Aurelia.
‘The Academy is a rabbit warren full of secret rooms, vaults, tunnels, catacombs and chambers, any of which could have been Pearly’s hiding place. I searched his old lodgings until, at last, I uncovered a cunningly hidden passageway leading down to a crypt in the darkest depths of the building. After hours of fruitless searching, I began to suspect that the wretched place was empty. I assumed that whatever was hidden there had been magically concealed, but despite exploring the room on many different planes, I found nothing. Ironically, I finally succeeded in a way that I had not anticipated. I located a small niche in a corner of the room that was oddly bereft of light. The place was dark in no ordinary manner, though, and would allow light neither in nor out. There, I found a box wrapped in a sheet of material like nothing I’d ever encountered. I’d seen Pearly render objects invisible by alchemical means before, of course, but such an action inevitably leaves a trace of energy that can be sniffed out by a powerful alchemist.’
‘How did he do it?’ Aurelia asked.
‘Pearly had fabricated a unique material with no overt signs of his power. It was remarkable. Wrapped in this material, the box was invisible. In retrospect, I suppose I should’ve guessed he’d have done things in his own inimitable fashion.’
‘What did you find in the cache?’
‘There were countless papers written in Pearly’s hand. The notes covered all sorts of alchemical learning and only began to hint at the depths of lore he had acquired through meticulous study. What was interesting, though, was a name that appeared as a recurring theme. Pearly had made prodigious notes on the life of Alfons Piotrowski and the contents of two similar manuscripts he’d written. From that point on, I was committed to the task of finding these books. I knew of the manuscript in Amsterdam, of course, but it took me some time to track down the other copy, which, of all places, was under our n
oses in the house of that meddling old fool, Price.
‘During this time, I began to speculate on the true nature of the stone, but I couldn’t fathom out what Pearly had been planning and what he expected me to do with it.’
‘Did you reach any conclusions?’ Aurelia demanded.
‘None of us were party to Pearly’s motives, and I can only speculate, but knowing him as I did, I believe he foresaw the actions I’d take, despite having explained so little to me.’
‘You’re telling me that Pearly knew what you’d do?’ said Lex incredulously.
‘Not exactly, but I think he had a pretty good idea. He understood how I’d piece together all the information he’d left for me, and by extrapolation, what I might do with it. It’s only now, after unravelling the riddle of Piotrowski’s work that I’ve finally come to understand what his intentions were.’
‘Don’t keep us in suspense, Josef,’ Aurelia urged.
‘By whatever means, ladies and gentlemen,’ he said melodramatically, ‘I believe Pearly managed to unravel the mystery of the living stone before he died!’
As Frankl’s echoing words slowly faded, the auditorium fell into a stunned silence.
‘But I thought you just told us that Piotrowski’s work was flawed. Surely this stone you speak of is useless?’ said Aurelia.
Frankl shook his head. ‘A wrong assumption, Aurelia. You’re presuming that Pearly followed Piotrowski’s methodology.’
‘I’m not sure what to believe, Josef,’ she replied with a sigh.
‘Pearly led me to Piotrowski merely as a way to explain what he’d already discovered by alternative means. You knew Pearly as well as anyone. Do you suppose he’d waste our time on a false trail such as this?
‘Nor do I,’ continued Frankl in response to the silence that followed. ‘I’ve made some assumptions during this quest, I admit, and it’s taken me many years to assemble the requisite pieces of this intricate jigsaw, but now, at last, I finally know what we must do.’
