The Shadow Beyond

by Daniel Reiner

  There was a long pause before Doctor Gardener next spoke; it was so long in fact, that I worried he had slipped out of the professor’s office without my noticing. When he finally did, he too sounded tired.

  “I’ll respect your wishes,” he said. “But if we require similar services in the future, we’ll need you to recommend someone to take your place.”

  “Yes, of course. But whoever it is, ensure they never have to deal with Higgins. His presence only makes the task at hand—any task—more difficult.”

  “I agree that Jebediah Higgins does not make the best ambassador for our cause. When you think of someone, please let me know; I shall make an effort to insulate him. Before I leave, though, I do have one more request.”

  “Yes?”

  “With the ‘alignment’ of these stars—the terminus being Earth—the path presumably ends in a specific spot on the earth’s surface. If you can give us any help at all in that respect, we can narrow our search.”

  “I’ve tried to solve that problem already. Repeatedly. The ancient sources you supplied are not explicit enough. Using the information at hand, the path traced through the heavens does not touch the Earth at a single point—it’s nothing but a chaotic tangle. Like a length of string with horrendously complicated knots at both ends. Those equations simply do not yield precise values at the endpoints.”

  With that answer, I heard Doctor Gardiner ready himself to leave.

  “I’m off to lunch. Care to join me?”

  “Thank you, but I still have quite a bit of work that I need to attend to. Tomorrow, perhaps? Half past noon?”

  “Excellent. I’ll drop by here then. Until tomorrow.”

  “Good day, Quentin.”

  The door opened, then closed. I heard Doctor Gardiner’s footsteps retreat down the hall. The professor would surely continue working for a while. I decided to wait in the empty classroom so as to not appear too soon after the doctor’s departure. From time to time, I heard the professor move about or shuffle papers. But even as I waited there, gathering my courage, Gardiner’s words bounced around in my head. A ghastly coincidence. Fantastic. We could not possibly be so lucky. Somehow, in that moment, I felt myself anything but lucky.

  Five

  I considered a dozen opening lines, discarded them all. There was no need for justification or explanation. I crept out of the classroom. A knock on the door of Professor Josephson’s office resulted in the familiar, Come in.

  His face initially displayed irritation at being interrupted, but it was quickly replaced with a mixture of relief, sorrow, and possibly embarrassment, when he saw me.

  “Hello, Robert.”

  “Professor.”

  I’d been in that room dozens of times, but this time, there was a stillness that chilled me. The grandfather clock in the corner ticked loudly. I’d never noticed the sound of it before.

  “Please,” he said, gesturing at the chair in front of his desk.

  As I sat down, he put his work aside and eyed me. My hands twisted in my lap.

  “What brings you here today?”

  “Elizabeth’s death,” I began. “I mean to discover what happened to her, and I need to know all that you can tell me.”

  He sighed deeply, almost painfully so.

  “Robert, that path is the wrong one to follow. Once begun, there is no turning back. The knowledge is a constant burden. And it is dangerous. Blackly dangerous.”

  “Professor, please! Two evenings ago, I watched helplessly as my fiancée was consumed by flames,” I said, my voice rising with the memory. “And they were not ordinary, earthly flames. The floor, the rug, my hands—none were burnt. Only Elizabeth was reduced to ashes, which evaporated as I watched. I need to find out what happened. And why. If you won’t help me, I will find someone who will!”

  He was silent for a long time. I had never before raised my voice to him, and was afraid that my outburst had offended him. When he next spoke, his voice was barely audible.

  “I have always trusted the diagnoses of Doctor Gardiner and his associates,” he began slowly. “But this time they appear to be wrong.”

  He looked down at his desk.

  I waited.

  And waited.

  I shifted in my seat, ready to prod him, but just my stirring was enough. He waved at the papers on his desk.

  “Numbers,” he blurted out, still looking down. “Despite their abstract nature, numbers are concrete to me. They are real. Other people may not share the same opinion, but I have come to accept that. Everyone in this large world is different. Other people may take comfort in the concreteness of other objects or concepts. Different people, different backgrounds, different ways of thinking and dealing with the world. But despite differing opinions, we can all of us share numbers as a science.”

  At last he looked up at me.

  “Science,” he repeated, but stopped after the one word.

  I sensed him starting to lose steam.

  “Please go on, Professor.”

  He sighed once more and seemed to reach a decision.

  “Science, Robert, has many more facets than those traditionally taught at this university—at any university. In mathematics, we take for granted that a certain sequence of numbers and formulae, calculated correctly, will consistently produce the same result. Yes?”

  I nodded.

  “Mathematics, chemistry, physics are all hard sciences. Experiments are repeatable. Results are consistent.”

  A note of nervousness had crept into his deep voice, giving it a higher pitch. I nodded, and keep eye contact with him as he spoke, both to reassure him that I was following along, and to keep him going.

  “Words, I’ve come to learn, are as much of a science as numbers.”

  He spoke the sentence with finality, as if it had been the goal he had been trying to reach. Unfortunately, it made no sense to me.

  “Words,” I said. “As in giving a speech?”

  “No.” He cleared his throat. “I misspoke. It’s more than just words. Words and actions, combined in a specific manner, and perhaps with other components, can consistently produce the same result. And for those who know the correct words, the correct actions—a great many things become possible. Things any sane man would question.”

  Had it not been for the shaking tone in his voice and the events of the last twenty-four hours, the thought would never have entered my mind, the word would never have left my mouth.

  “Magic.”

  “Yes,” he said, almost sadly. “I was raised as you were. The Church was always there for me. In my youth I strongly considered entering the priesthood. Magic? For most of my life, it was impossible for me to lend any credence at all to such a concept, though superstition was always there. Spill some salt, throw a pinch over your shoulder. Hmm? But people can change, given enough time and an open mind. And given proof. I had an experience which I consider to be proof.”

  He rose from his chair and poured two glasses of water from a pitcher by the window, handed one to me. I thanked him and took a sip. He resumed his seat and drank deeply. When he spoke again, his voice was strained, haunted. I could see fear in his eyes.

  “About three years ago, Doctor Gardiner received a shipment from Egypt: a sarcophagus. He had removed it from the shipping crate and invited me to the unveiling. I was puzzled at first, as I had no interest in the field of archaeology. He insisted, however, that the mummy within was special, and pertained to something with which I had helped them. When I arrived as instructed—at sunset—at his office in Clemmons Hall, he unexpectedly guided me upstairs to the roof. As we finished our climb I noticed three other men there. I’d met none of them previously, but now I know them to be friends of Doctor Gardiner. They surrounded a large stone sarcophagus. Gardiner asked me to examine it. On the lid was a drawing I interpreted as a horizon with stars. One star in particular was drawn with more emphasis than the others. Above the drawing were two symbols that made no sense to me. However, below the drawing we
re some hieroglyphics I recognized. It was then that the reason for my presence that evening became clear.

  “After finding the artifact, they had managed to translate the symbols on their own, but had been stymied as to their meaning. It was the very problem Doctor Gardener had handed to me some weeks prior, albeit without any context. I’d applied certain cryptographic methods, and discovered that the symbols described specific days of the year. Now, with the situation presented to me fully, the drawing with the symbols seemed to imply some sort of causality: When certain stars were above the horizon at certain times of the year, some event might occur. But what? I relayed this thought to the group. Gardiner smiled grimly, and told me that the sarcophagus was discovered buried under tons of debris. He had surmised that the underground chamber in which it had been placed had collapsed due to an earthquake. He went on to say that chambers of that type were usually created with narrow passageways linking the chamber to the hillside under which they were hidden, so that the dead could have an unimpeded view of the stars.

  “But according to Gardiner, that particular sarcophagus had not seen the light of the stars for over four thousand years. He pointed to the symbols above the drawing. The first, he said, was the man’s name: Keraph Thet. But it was the second that had alerted them to attend to this particular mummy. It was the symbol for a being known as Hastur. And as he spoke that name, the sarcophagus lid moved.

  “I almost shrieked aloud. Or maybe I did shriek. We both jumped back, and the other three men produced weapons—an axe and rifles. The man with the axe introduced himself to you last night, Robert, as Howard Carter; his real name is Jebediah Higgins.”

  I frowned at the memory of Higgins.

  “He moved into position on the right while the men with the rifles stood on the left. The lid slid noisily towards us. As the opening grew, the overpowering stench of abyss engulfed us. Gardiner and myself, directly downwind from the opening, covered our noses and mouths to protect ourselves from the fetid odor.

  “The lid moved a full six inches, then stopped. What I saw then I don’t think I will ever forget. The skeletal remains of two hands emerged from the inside, clamped onto the edge of the lid and begin pushing it towards us. My heart was close to bursting. Whatever was entombed inside of that crypt was shifting the heavy stone with ease. It appeared, however, that I was the only one close to panic. Higgins was readying himself, apparently planning on taking a swipe at the creature. Doctor Gardiner calmly removed an object from his pocket, something flat and star shaped. At last, the sound of grinding stone ceased. To this day, I thank God that the light from the surrounding buildings and street lamps did not reveal even more to me than what I did see when the creature within sat up.

  “Imagine a man dead of starvation, naked, with the skin and muscles contracted tightly around the bones, dried and decayed by the passage of four thousand arid years. To my horror, I noticed traces of hair still left on the desiccated skull, and the teeth were completely exposed with no trace of lips to conceal them. The eyes, though, were the most memorable detail: the only aspect of the creature that betrayed the least sign of life. They glowed a dim orange-red. That is all that I had a chance to see. Gardiner presented the object in his hand, holding it boldly out towards the undead corpse. Its effect was immediate. The creature froze, and in that instant, Higgins pulled the axe back and landed a deadly blow on the neck, severing the head cleanly from the body. The torso collapsed backwards into the sarcophagus as the head flew off, landing a few yards away.”

  He paused here as if attempting to read my reaction, but whether he was satisfied or disappointed in the expression I wore, I couldn’t tell. I hardly knew how I felt, myself.

  “The three men then put down their weapons, and with much effort, managed to twist and shove the lid completely off of the crypt. Using a spade, Higgins retrieved the head, and lifted it into the sarcophagus, placing it at the feet of the corpse. The other two men swiftly produced several large beakers of liquid, and poured the contents into the open sarcophagus. It quickly became evident that the liquid was a very powerful acid. Only when the last bit of corpse bubbled and dissolved did Gardiner lower his hand, and return the star shaped object to his pocket.”

  As he finished the water in his glass, I noticed his hand trembling. He seemed to be satisfied to stop there, but there were still too many unknowns. I waited a respectful few seconds, then gave him a gentle prompt.

  “What was it, Professor?” I asked. “The object that Doctor Gardiner held. What was it?”

  “An Elder Sign. It’s a potent symbol of protection from the Ancient Ones. Doctor Gardiner informed me later that this particular one was found in a cave along the southern shore of the Mediterranean by Higgins himself.”

  “Ancient Ones? Professor—” But he cut me off.

  “As for the inhabitant of the sarcophagus, it was what’s known as a lich—at least, that was the term that Gardiner used. It had been a man at one point, apparently a high priest of…that being I mentioned. But through the use of powerful invocations, involving a good deal of human sacrifice, the priest was able to continue to live, as it were, after his death. But you see, my boy, this is precisely why you must stay away from this. All of it. Yes, these magicks are a science—and like a science, can lead men to enlightenment. But they can also lead to terrible darkness.”

  “For by thy sorceries were all nations deceived.” I spoke the verse to myself.

  “Indeed.”

  In the silence that followed, I half expected him to burst with laughter and explain that it had all been a horrible joke. But his face remained serious.

  “I know this is a terrific amount to digest all at once. Doctor Gardiner was kind enough to introduce the concepts to me over a period of months—perhaps even a year. After that event on the roof, he’d slowly gotten me thinking differently about the world. He had tested me with debates over hypothetical, nonsensical situations. At first, I was secure in my logic. But over time, my view changed, as uncertainty seeped in. That experience with the lich shook me to my core, but I was able to handle it. Gardiner had prepared me.” After a pause he added, “Of course, I have no proof of any of what I just told you.”

  Magic. Lich. By the laws of God and Nature, how could I possibly accept such inanities? My own religious convictions aside, it seemed insane to believe such abominations existed. I was a man of science! But then again, so was Professor Josephson. As well as Doctor Gardiner. They were both brilliant, respected men. Each had decades more experience than I. Were there simply things out there in the world that I was not aware of? Or things that were purposely hidden?

  “Magic,” I muttered. It was an alien word with evil undertones.

  “Try thinking of it as a science that is poorly understood.”

  I mulled that over.

  “That does help,” I reluctantly agreed. “But where in—Where would one go to learn about such things?”

  The professor frowned at the question.

  “A few hideous tomes have managed to survive the centuries. It’s not common knowledge, but some are housed here at this very university. I’ve not seen them. The ones that Doctor Gardiner mentioned to me are the Necronomicon of Abdul Alhazred, De Vermis Mysteriis, the—”

  “Wait, Professor,” I nearly shouted. “Did you say De Vermis Mysteriis?”

  “Yes. You know of it?” he asked, leaning forward in his chair.

  Right then, I very nearly told him of the time I’d seen that volume, of my encounter as a child with a ghost that left footprints. And I very nearly voiced a theory, newly formed in my mind, that the ghost could have been a man using ‘magic’ to blink in and out of existence. But I didn’t. His look of concern stopped me. His warnings made me think that I may never get another chance to learn anything from him, and right then, I needed to learn as much as possible.

  So, I lied to the professor for the first time that I could recall.

  “No.” I shook my head. “No, I must be mixing it u
p with something else.”

  He nodded, visibly relaxing—but too much. His concern, fear, nervousness were all gone. I felt he might dismiss me at any time. But I had one avenue left to exploit.

  “Professor…the other day, you mentioned that you wanted me to check over your work.”

  “Yes. At the time, I was in a state of severe agitation. I doubted myself, allowing my imagination to run wild. There’s no need for you to bother yourself. I just wish that…”

  His voice trailed off again, and his fingers tapped the desktop as I had seen him do a few times in the past when confronted with a devilishly difficult problem.

  “Yes?”

  “Those blasted endpoints!” he said, raising his voice uncharacteristically. “This problem has confounded me completely.”

  I smiled inwardly with a grim satisfaction. I knew him just well enough, knew that academic curiosity could at times drive him relentlessly.

  “Let me start at the beginning,” he said, leaning forward. “Gardiner and his associates found a pattern of star names hidden among the pages of the Necronomicon. They did not reveal the exact nature of the pattern to me, but let it suffice to say it was not easily discovered. One would be required to be intimately familiar with most of the text of that godforsaken tome. The book spans a thousand pages, written in Latin. Nearly all of it symbolic, requiring a detailed knowledge of both magic and the myths of the Ancient Ones to comprehend it.”

  That was twice he had mentioned the Ancient Ones, I realized.

  “They handed to me two things: The pattern obtained from the Necronomicon.” And here he stood and walked over to a small safe, which sat on the floor behind the desk. It was unlocked. He swung it open, and extracted a framed document, about eight inches by twelve inches. Secured beneath the sheet of glass was a piece of old, yellowed paper.