Nanowrimo 2016 - prologue, part 11 (the end of part 1)
An Dannsa Sìth
Ro-ràdh : roinn a h-aon deug : Dìomhaireas (Top-Secret) no An Duais is an Dealg (the carrot and the stick)
Surprisingly, a bark of laughter greeted this dramatic announcement. Dr. Majors continued toward his place at the table, commenting, "And that only proves that you've never seen the real thing. You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Or you don't recognize the shape of it," Madame Dobransky countered.
"The frequency of attacks has shown a dramatic increase in the past five years alone," Dr. Collins added.
Still standing, Dr. Majors responded to the old lady first, inclining his head toward her. "Respectfully, Madame, I do know of what I speak. Not only have I practised war, but I have also studied it. The term implies military action. A guiding intelligence overseeing engagements pursuing some objectives. Wild animal attacks and criminal acts, no matter how bloody, do not meet the qualifications."
Turning his upper body, he next addressed Dr. Collins, prefacing his words with a slightly more shallow nod. "I suspect that what we have been seeing is an increase in the number of reports filed, not the number of incidents occurring. Not exactly unexpected considering our efforts over the past thirty years to educate first responders in recognition of an incursion event."
"So this is something that's happened before?" Jace asked. He felt aggrieved; they'd known what he'd been through and they'd left him hanging for a week, wondering if he actually had had a psychotic break and had somehow killed Buck without remembering.
Dr. Campbell seemed to understand. He answered immediately, without a hint of hesitation or prevarication. "Not this. Your experience is unique, Mr. Walker. Until Senator Buckminster approached us concerning the particulars of this case, we only suspected that it was possible because of stories recorded in collections of oral traditions such as the one Dr. Collins related. All our attempts to penetrate the Border from this side have proved fruitless to date; our efforts, therefore, have been directed toward containing and neutralizing dangerous incursion subjects originating from Faerie."
"From Fairyland," Jace echoed, using sarcasm to mask his fear. He looked at Dr. Majors, still standing. "'Animal attacks and criminal acts'," he quoted. "'Incursion event'. What the hell is an 'incursion event'? " Addressing Dr. Campbell, his voice rising in accusation, he said, "At war for 'the continuing existence of all mankind'." Next he turned to Madame. "Civilization descending into barbarism; dark creatures; gates forced against us. Who the hell are you people? What's going on here and what the hell does it have to do with me?" He had clamoured to his feet during his rant, now he faced them, panting, furious and with half a mind to storm out.
Madame Dobransky snorted. "Leave it to a man to make a mish-mosh of everything," she said at large, ignoring her own contributions to the confusion. "Mr. Walker, we are the Special Response Unit. You know that silly movie, yes? 'Is there something strange in your neighborhood? Who you gonna call?' Well, we are who you gonna call. We handle the special cases. Like yours."
Dr. Collins took the floor, metaphorically speaking, laying a hand on the stack of books before her.
"Every culture in the world has tales concerning powerful beings and monstruous creatures. Cautionary tales, for the most part, detailing how they should be approached,, propitiated, destroyed if need be." Dr. Majors made a sound, as though to argue; she shot him a quelling glance and he subsided. "Dragons, shape-shifting beast-men, blood-drinking fiends, magic-using little people. Examine the lore of any people, compare it to that of another half a world away and you will find the two suprisingly similar, absent the trappings of culture and tradition."
She paused before adding, "That's because they are based on fact. The creatures they describe are real."
The oriental guy, Q, stood and began speaking directly to Jace, his eyes almost glowing with excitement behind thick glasses. "Have you ever heard of the dimension theory of the multiverse?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he launched into speech. "Sir Terry Pratchett called it the trousers of time in his Discworld novel 'Lords and Ladies'. Wen Spencer compares it to pearls on a hyperstring in the Elfhome series, which is fine, I guess, if you understand that the string can split off at random making it more of a net system than a necklace. Basically there's potentially an infinite number of Earths separated by dimensional energy barriers. We think that this barrier is weaker at some points and it's possible for a hole or breach to form or be forced at these points of where the energy level is lower allowing passage through from one dimension to another. Up to now all these breaks have been mono-directional, ..."
"That we know of," Alys interrupted with an air of long practice. "Sit down, Danny. You're scaring him."
The stocky young man blinked owlishly. The excitement that had animated him was gone as though a flip had been switched, leaving him at a loss. He nodded abruptly and sat, collapsing into his seat.
Alys leaned forward to engage Jace's attention. "As far as we know," she repeated slowly, emphasizing the words, "there's only one world that concerns us. We call this world Faerie because the creatures we've encountered so far correspond to descriptions found in fairy-tales and myths."
"There was that thing last month," Danny objected. "It was clearly demonic. Father Frank said ..."
"That was summoned, Danny," Alys replied, impatience imperfectly contained. "It didn't arrive spontaneously the way the creatures of Faerie seem to."
Dr. Majors cleared his throat, interrupting what seemed to be an on-going argument.
"Mr. Walker, as Madame Dobransky informed you, we represent the Special Response Unit. Officially we operate under the ægis of the Federal Bureau of Investigation but for reasons of ... various reasons we maintain our center of operations here on the grounds of Claire College, Bowbridge."
"Thirty years ago it came to the notice of the Bureau that they were investigating an increasing number of what pleased them to call 'X-files'. Cases that could not be classified into any pre-existing category and, in fact, could not be understood by modern science at all. They became aware of a small group of amateurs interferring with the official investigation of these cases."
Doctors Campbell and Collin both smirked at the word 'amateur'. Madame sniffed. Loudly. In protest. Dr. Majors gave no sign of noticing either reaction.
"It was observed that where these amateurs were involved, the body count was minimal."
"Body count?" Jace squeaked.
"Better to say 'death rate'," Dr. Collins advised. To Jace, she added the explanation, "Apparently man-flesh is a great delicacy to those of Faerie."
"Man-flesh," Jace echoed, under his breath. He was reminded of the rhyme in the childhood story 'Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman' and even more so of the sight of the arrow pointed at him in the dark and snow woods. The hunt that found him as prey.
He became aware of Dr. Majors staring pointedly in his direction and realised that he had said the rhyme aloud. Smiling weakly, he murmured an apology.
That was when Jace remembered that Majors had been introduced as an 'FBI consultant'. He'd thought that meant the man was a professor consulting with the FBI, but suddenly, he wasn't so sure.
Assured that he had the attention of all, Dr. Majors resumed the drift of his discourse.
"The Bureau finally discovered that the group in question was operating out of a boarding house being run as a sort of school for New Age studies." He huffed, shook his head as if in disbelief. "They were recruiting people to assist them in their mad endeavour, the most ridiculous collection of individuals imaginable. Mediums, spiritualists, priests, discredited academics and students ... Students from Bowbridge. They were teaching them to fight monsters." He paused, took a deep breath. "And a solid leavening of police officers and retired military to provide practical assistance."
"Naturally we couldn't allow this group of naive innocents to run around like loose cannons, putting themselves and everyone around them in danger."
"Our track record at that point was better than the Bureau's," Dr. Campbell said.
"That's beside the point," Dr. Majors replied. Madame Dobransky, looking extremely pleased with herself, took advantage of the interruption of his train of thought to hi-jack it.
"Long story short, we took them over. Absorbed their X-files into our operation. Everybody happy. End of story."
"Madame!" Dr. Majors snapped in reproof. Unrepentent, the old lady smiled up at him, seraphically. Dr. Collins stifled a laugh, shaking her head slightly. A slight flaring of his nostrils betrayed Majors' lack of similar amusement.
"As it happened, we could see the value of what they were attempting, on a very small and completely inadequate scale, and so, we expanded the scope. The old Ægeria Health Spa and Hotel wsa available, literally across the road. Abandoned, derelict; it was perfect for our purposes. The Bureau provided funds to purchase and renovate it and Madame Dobransky's expanded Academy of New Age Studies moved in; a facility with the sole purpose of locating and training agent-candidates for the newly formed Special Response Unit."
Dr. Campbell took up the thread of the explanation. "We underwent some changes and we were certified as Claire College a decade ago. As a result, we could publish our findings and attract research fellows, leading to more rapid advancement in the field of parascience. We are now able to identify and locate potential breach sites, recognize the signs that they are being activated and arrange for teams of experts to be on hand when and if an incursion occurs."
"So why weren't you on Candlepin New Year's Eve," Jace demanded angrily.
The old academic looked regretful. "It wasn't on our radar. We had no idea that there was a potential site in the area and no reason to go looking. Now that we know, and with the permission granted by Senator Buckminster, we will locate it. With your help."
Dr. Majors added, "Up to now we've been reacting, we have not beenable to penetrate the Border ourselves and without that ability, we cannot take this fight to the source. We cannot close open sites, we cannot stop incursions before they begin."
"Your presence at this table, Mr. Walker, is the first sign of hope that we can change that state of affairs. We want to examine, in detail, exactly what occurred that night; what you observed; what you experienced. We want to discover the means by which you managed to pass through the Border, going and coming."
"Will you help us?"
Jace's first impulse was to say not only yes but hell yes. He suppressed it.
"What's in it for me?" he asked instead.
Dr. Majors remained impassive. Madame's face lit up with glee. The others displayed varying degrees of dismay and disgust.
"If you help us you will be provided with the means to continue your education. You will be encouraged, though not required to join the SRU. If you decide not to join, then you will be required to be available on an as needed basis in the capacity of independent consultant."
Jace frowned, thinking hard about what was said. And what wasn't.
"Okay," he temporized. "That's the carrot, what's the stick?"
Dr. Major's expression shifted to one Jace would prefer not to have seen. "Not all incursion subjects are eliminated; some are kept in holding cells for further study and experimentation. The FBI has assumed jurisdiction of the investigation into the disappearance of Charles Buckminster the fourth. You are the only viable suspect in that disappearance."
Jace nodded. "Yeah. That's pretty much what I expected. Not that it matters, particularly." He let his eyes travel around the table, flicking off one by one the others there. "I don't know that I believe all this. It sounds, forgive me for being blunt, like the set up for some Disney animated movie. All we need now is the princess and her cute little side-kick."
Involuntarily, his attention darted to Alys, with Q sitting at her side. She laughed, a low husky chuckle.
"Not me, mon. Strictly the good witch, me."
Jace shrugged, accepted her self-assessment with a nod and returned his attention to Dr. Majors, growing serious once again.
"I owe it to Buck to do whatever it takes to bring him home again from ... wherever. And once I do, that's it. We'll be even, the Buckminsters and me. I won't owe the Senator or his family a single thing more."
Ro-ràdh : roinn a h-aon deug : Dìomhaireas (Top-Secret) no An Duais is an Dealg (the carrot and the stick)
Surprisingly, a bark of laughter greeted this dramatic announcement. Dr. Majors continued toward his place at the table, commenting, "And that only proves that you've never seen the real thing. You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Or you don't recognize the shape of it," Madame Dobransky countered.
"The frequency of attacks has shown a dramatic increase in the past five years alone," Dr. Collins added.
Still standing, Dr. Majors responded to the old lady first, inclining his head toward her. "Respectfully, Madame, I do know of what I speak. Not only have I practised war, but I have also studied it. The term implies military action. A guiding intelligence overseeing engagements pursuing some objectives. Wild animal attacks and criminal acts, no matter how bloody, do not meet the qualifications."
Turning his upper body, he next addressed Dr. Collins, prefacing his words with a slightly more shallow nod. "I suspect that what we have been seeing is an increase in the number of reports filed, not the number of incidents occurring. Not exactly unexpected considering our efforts over the past thirty years to educate first responders in recognition of an incursion event."
"So this is something that's happened before?" Jace asked. He felt aggrieved; they'd known what he'd been through and they'd left him hanging for a week, wondering if he actually had had a psychotic break and had somehow killed Buck without remembering.
Dr. Campbell seemed to understand. He answered immediately, without a hint of hesitation or prevarication. "Not this. Your experience is unique, Mr. Walker. Until Senator Buckminster approached us concerning the particulars of this case, we only suspected that it was possible because of stories recorded in collections of oral traditions such as the one Dr. Collins related. All our attempts to penetrate the Border from this side have proved fruitless to date; our efforts, therefore, have been directed toward containing and neutralizing dangerous incursion subjects originating from Faerie."
"From Fairyland," Jace echoed, using sarcasm to mask his fear. He looked at Dr. Majors, still standing. "'Animal attacks and criminal acts'," he quoted. "'Incursion event'. What the hell is an 'incursion event'? " Addressing Dr. Campbell, his voice rising in accusation, he said, "At war for 'the continuing existence of all mankind'." Next he turned to Madame. "Civilization descending into barbarism; dark creatures; gates forced against us. Who the hell are you people? What's going on here and what the hell does it have to do with me?" He had clamoured to his feet during his rant, now he faced them, panting, furious and with half a mind to storm out.
Madame Dobransky snorted. "Leave it to a man to make a mish-mosh of everything," she said at large, ignoring her own contributions to the confusion. "Mr. Walker, we are the Special Response Unit. You know that silly movie, yes? 'Is there something strange in your neighborhood? Who you gonna call?' Well, we are who you gonna call. We handle the special cases. Like yours."
Dr. Collins took the floor, metaphorically speaking, laying a hand on the stack of books before her.
"Every culture in the world has tales concerning powerful beings and monstruous creatures. Cautionary tales, for the most part, detailing how they should be approached,, propitiated, destroyed if need be." Dr. Majors made a sound, as though to argue; she shot him a quelling glance and he subsided. "Dragons, shape-shifting beast-men, blood-drinking fiends, magic-using little people. Examine the lore of any people, compare it to that of another half a world away and you will find the two suprisingly similar, absent the trappings of culture and tradition."
She paused before adding, "That's because they are based on fact. The creatures they describe are real."
The oriental guy, Q, stood and began speaking directly to Jace, his eyes almost glowing with excitement behind thick glasses. "Have you ever heard of the dimension theory of the multiverse?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he launched into speech. "Sir Terry Pratchett called it the trousers of time in his Discworld novel 'Lords and Ladies'. Wen Spencer compares it to pearls on a hyperstring in the Elfhome series, which is fine, I guess, if you understand that the string can split off at random making it more of a net system than a necklace. Basically there's potentially an infinite number of Earths separated by dimensional energy barriers. We think that this barrier is weaker at some points and it's possible for a hole or breach to form or be forced at these points of where the energy level is lower allowing passage through from one dimension to another. Up to now all these breaks have been mono-directional, ..."
"That we know of," Alys interrupted with an air of long practice. "Sit down, Danny. You're scaring him."
The stocky young man blinked owlishly. The excitement that had animated him was gone as though a flip had been switched, leaving him at a loss. He nodded abruptly and sat, collapsing into his seat.
Alys leaned forward to engage Jace's attention. "As far as we know," she repeated slowly, emphasizing the words, "there's only one world that concerns us. We call this world Faerie because the creatures we've encountered so far correspond to descriptions found in fairy-tales and myths."
"There was that thing last month," Danny objected. "It was clearly demonic. Father Frank said ..."
"That was summoned, Danny," Alys replied, impatience imperfectly contained. "It didn't arrive spontaneously the way the creatures of Faerie seem to."
Dr. Majors cleared his throat, interrupting what seemed to be an on-going argument.
"Mr. Walker, as Madame Dobransky informed you, we represent the Special Response Unit. Officially we operate under the ægis of the Federal Bureau of Investigation but for reasons of ... various reasons we maintain our center of operations here on the grounds of Claire College, Bowbridge."
"Thirty years ago it came to the notice of the Bureau that they were investigating an increasing number of what pleased them to call 'X-files'. Cases that could not be classified into any pre-existing category and, in fact, could not be understood by modern science at all. They became aware of a small group of amateurs interferring with the official investigation of these cases."
Doctors Campbell and Collin both smirked at the word 'amateur'. Madame sniffed. Loudly. In protest. Dr. Majors gave no sign of noticing either reaction.
"It was observed that where these amateurs were involved, the body count was minimal."
"Body count?" Jace squeaked.
"Better to say 'death rate'," Dr. Collins advised. To Jace, she added the explanation, "Apparently man-flesh is a great delicacy to those of Faerie."
"Man-flesh," Jace echoed, under his breath. He was reminded of the rhyme in the childhood story 'Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman' and even more so of the sight of the arrow pointed at him in the dark and snow woods. The hunt that found him as prey.
He became aware of Dr. Majors staring pointedly in his direction and realised that he had said the rhyme aloud. Smiling weakly, he murmured an apology.
That was when Jace remembered that Majors had been introduced as an 'FBI consultant'. He'd thought that meant the man was a professor consulting with the FBI, but suddenly, he wasn't so sure.
Assured that he had the attention of all, Dr. Majors resumed the drift of his discourse.
"The Bureau finally discovered that the group in question was operating out of a boarding house being run as a sort of school for New Age studies." He huffed, shook his head as if in disbelief. "They were recruiting people to assist them in their mad endeavour, the most ridiculous collection of individuals imaginable. Mediums, spiritualists, priests, discredited academics and students ... Students from Bowbridge. They were teaching them to fight monsters." He paused, took a deep breath. "And a solid leavening of police officers and retired military to provide practical assistance."
"Naturally we couldn't allow this group of naive innocents to run around like loose cannons, putting themselves and everyone around them in danger."
"Our track record at that point was better than the Bureau's," Dr. Campbell said.
"That's beside the point," Dr. Majors replied. Madame Dobransky, looking extremely pleased with herself, took advantage of the interruption of his train of thought to hi-jack it.
"Long story short, we took them over. Absorbed their X-files into our operation. Everybody happy. End of story."
"Madame!" Dr. Majors snapped in reproof. Unrepentent, the old lady smiled up at him, seraphically. Dr. Collins stifled a laugh, shaking her head slightly. A slight flaring of his nostrils betrayed Majors' lack of similar amusement.
"As it happened, we could see the value of what they were attempting, on a very small and completely inadequate scale, and so, we expanded the scope. The old Ægeria Health Spa and Hotel wsa available, literally across the road. Abandoned, derelict; it was perfect for our purposes. The Bureau provided funds to purchase and renovate it and Madame Dobransky's expanded Academy of New Age Studies moved in; a facility with the sole purpose of locating and training agent-candidates for the newly formed Special Response Unit."
Dr. Campbell took up the thread of the explanation. "We underwent some changes and we were certified as Claire College a decade ago. As a result, we could publish our findings and attract research fellows, leading to more rapid advancement in the field of parascience. We are now able to identify and locate potential breach sites, recognize the signs that they are being activated and arrange for teams of experts to be on hand when and if an incursion occurs."
"So why weren't you on Candlepin New Year's Eve," Jace demanded angrily.
The old academic looked regretful. "It wasn't on our radar. We had no idea that there was a potential site in the area and no reason to go looking. Now that we know, and with the permission granted by Senator Buckminster, we will locate it. With your help."
Dr. Majors added, "Up to now we've been reacting, we have not beenable to penetrate the Border ourselves and without that ability, we cannot take this fight to the source. We cannot close open sites, we cannot stop incursions before they begin."
"Your presence at this table, Mr. Walker, is the first sign of hope that we can change that state of affairs. We want to examine, in detail, exactly what occurred that night; what you observed; what you experienced. We want to discover the means by which you managed to pass through the Border, going and coming."
"Will you help us?"
Jace's first impulse was to say not only yes but hell yes. He suppressed it.
"What's in it for me?" he asked instead.
Dr. Majors remained impassive. Madame's face lit up with glee. The others displayed varying degrees of dismay and disgust.
"If you help us you will be provided with the means to continue your education. You will be encouraged, though not required to join the SRU. If you decide not to join, then you will be required to be available on an as needed basis in the capacity of independent consultant."
Jace frowned, thinking hard about what was said. And what wasn't.
"Okay," he temporized. "That's the carrot, what's the stick?"
Dr. Major's expression shifted to one Jace would prefer not to have seen. "Not all incursion subjects are eliminated; some are kept in holding cells for further study and experimentation. The FBI has assumed jurisdiction of the investigation into the disappearance of Charles Buckminster the fourth. You are the only viable suspect in that disappearance."
Jace nodded. "Yeah. That's pretty much what I expected. Not that it matters, particularly." He let his eyes travel around the table, flicking off one by one the others there. "I don't know that I believe all this. It sounds, forgive me for being blunt, like the set up for some Disney animated movie. All we need now is the princess and her cute little side-kick."
Involuntarily, his attention darted to Alys, with Q sitting at her side. She laughed, a low husky chuckle.
"Not me, mon. Strictly the good witch, me."
Jace shrugged, accepted her self-assessment with a nod and returned his attention to Dr. Majors, growing serious once again.
"I owe it to Buck to do whatever it takes to bring him home again from ... wherever. And once I do, that's it. We'll be even, the Buckminsters and me. I won't owe the Senator or his family a single thing more."