(for previous chapters click on the chapter links on the left sidebar)
"So when did you first know the chimera was still with you?"
They were sitting in Doc's office, a small examining room at the back of his house with a table, desk, three chairs and an attached lab. The walls held shelves of medical books, watercolors of sunrise and sunset over the wetlands and a large poster identifying common species of fish, shellfish and crustaceans living in the swamp. The lampshade was covered with fishing lures. It wasn't hard to tell what Doc's hobby was. He had checked TP's reflexes, taken his blood pressure, listened to his heart and lungs, peered into his eyes with a light and tapped several spots on his head. As he peered and poked, TP told him in depth all he'd experienced.
"For a long time after the attack I had nightmares and anxiety, but I thought it was residual effects that would eventually go away. Then about a month ago I started seeing red eyes every time I fell asleep. That's when I began to suspect. When the sleep-walking started, I knew for sure."
"Any dizziness? Confusion?"
"Yes, especially in the mornings."
"These creatures live in the nervous system and brain. I can see the darkness behind your eyes."
"So what's to be done?"
Doc rubbed his whiskered chin and moved from his stool to his desk chair, laying his stethoscope next to a vase of Hattie's sweet peas. Breeze from the open window carried their perfume across the room.
"I'd say two things have saved you thus far. Firstly, you transported the chimera to a different world, and it's taken a long time for the beast to adjust to the new surroundings. Chimera dragons are sensitive to geographical locations. They draw power from magnetic and electrical impulses deep inside the earth."
TP nodded. "We supposedly have similar entities in our world called doppelgangers. I've read about them."
"Doppelgangers! Hah, I like that word," Doc said. "It has a nice ring to it."
TP told him all he knew on the subject, which wasn't much, and Doc listened with interest.
"Chimeras are doppelgangers run amok, I'm thinking. Doppelgangers aren't quite as powerful."
"Yet," TP said.
Doc went on. "The second thing that's maybe worked in your favor is your age and occupation. You're not young, and you're a scholar. You've had lots of years to store data in your brain. Chimeras love facts and data. My guess is this chimera is very interested in your knowledge and wants to use it in some way. But it can only do that if you let it take you over willingly, because it needs your cooperation to accomplish its goals."
"So is there any hope for me?" TP asked.
Doc hesitated, and TP could see the worry darkening his eyes. He braced himself for bad news.
"I won't lie to you, TP, it's a serious condition. I'm concerned that you're starting to have episodes during the day. But let's get down to basics. The first line of defense is knowledge." Doc smacked his hand on the desk for emphasis, causing a stack of papers to flutter. "Knowledge is power. You need to learn as much as you can about your enemy. I'll tell you what I know, and afterwards we'll put our heads together and see where it leads us.
"You've heard me say in past conversations that Minglemist's culture used to be much more advanced than it is now, mostly due to a group of men who developed sophisticated electronic devices used for all sorts of things. These fellows called themselves the Brotherhood, and they pretty much ruled Minglemist. Women weren't allowed into the group." Doc smiled wryly. "A pity, because if women had influenced these men, maybe things would have turned out differently. Anyway, this Brotherhood developed more and more sophisticated devices and machines, and people relied more and more on them for everything; so much so that they didn't bother to think for themselves anymore. And the devices grew so highly sensitive they began to merge with human thought and take on a life of their own.
"The Brotherhood knew very well what was happening, and even if their original intentions had been honorable, they began to see how they could use this artificial intelligence for their own selfish gains. They started using the devices to foster mistrust, hatred and intolerance between groups and factions, and even between individuals. People were manipulated so subtly they didn't realize the thoughts they were thinking weren't their own, but were put into them by the Brotherhood via the devices to further their agenda.
"Eventually people began to figure out what was happening and a war was fought. Members of the Brotherhood were expelled from Minglemist, but not before having their revenge. The men, who had strange, occult powers, surrounded this land with a nearly impenetrable mist, cutting it off from the rest of the world. The few folks who dared to try and leave were never heard from again. The Brotherhood inactivated all electronic devices and left behind the shadowy creatures they'd spawned with their evil work. These creatures, named the chimera dragons, were highly intelligent and wanted to experience life on the physical plane, but they didn't have bodies to do so. Eventually they learned how to inhabit humans and live vicariously through them.
"Some people believe that the Brotherhood is still active, working behind the scenes to manipulate people through the chimera dragons."
TP blew out a breath. "What a conundrum."
"It surely is. And we have only ourselves to blame. We can't blame the machines and devices, can we? Humans and machines have always been partners. But we do have to deal with the consequences of our actions. Apparently it's our task in Minglemist to overcome the dragons. That's why knowledge is so necessary. The chimeras, intelligent, clever and deadly as they are, do have blind spots. They can only experience emotions and feelings in an animalistic way. Love eludes them, because love, true love, contains an element of sacrifice and this they don't understand. They have no capacity for higher feelings. If you foster thoughts of love and devotion, it acts like a shield and keeps the beasts from growing stronger."
"But it doesn't get rid of them," TP said.
"No," Doc agreed. "We haven't yet found a way to destroy them. You can't very well blow them up, or burn them, or drown them, or poison them because they have no physical bodies. Although..." Doc paused, rubbed his chin, then chuckled. "There may be ways to drive them out of the body. I'm thinking of old Muster Cannon. Muster was attacked by a chimera while night fishing. He was in his early fifties at the time, I'd say, and he went downhill very quickly. Became completely mad and had to be locked up. His wife took care of him, and it wasn't an easy task. This went on for years and years, probably ten, at least. The wife had to spoon feed him, and it got to the point where all he wanted was garlic. Raw garlic. He ate it by the handful, just chewed it up and swallowed it down. You can imagine how he smelled! My God, your eyes would water just standing within ten feet of him. His wife tried to wean him off of it, but one night he escaped his room, went to the pantry and demolished a whole basket of garlic, one clove at a time. Shortly afterward he got very agitated and started rolling around on the floor, howling like a wild animal. His daughter fetched me, thinking Muster was dying. I tried to sedate him but nothing worked. Finally, after a terrible spasm, a great cloud of black smoke poured out of his mouth and flew out the window. The next morning he was perfectly sane, back to his old self. He lived another fifteen or twenty years and finally died peacefully in his sleep."
They sat in silence a few moments, listening to the birds and insects outside the window. Finally TP said, "I was sure I had the answer, but stupidly I lost my chance."
He told Doc about the vegetable stone.
"I've heard of these stones! The Quinta Essentia, the fifth element, am I right? Made by separating and purifying the four elements, then joining them back together. Good grief, this is astounding!" Doc jumped up, his hair springing out from his head, his dark eyes sparking.
"What is?"
"Don't move. I'll be right back." The doctor disappeared into his lab and TP heard thumps, scrapes, clinks, rustles and clatters, accompanied by much muttering. Shortly afterward Doc returned with a gallon jar of amber-colored liquid which he placed on the desk.
"This was my grandfather's. He was a brilliant thinker, always full of ideas that made you marvel and wonder why you'd never thought of them. He had a fascination with the healing properties of honey. And this - " Doc held up the jar and shook it - "is the result of many years of research. Grandpa Stubblefield claimed it would be a vital remedy for dealing with chimera dragons, as well as other ailments. He called it the Quinta Essentia, made from honey, and left it to me when he died, along with instructions on how to use it."
TP peered into the jar. "So have you? Tried it, I mean?"
Doc's face fell as he shook his head. "The notebook of instructions was lost in a flood years ago. And the remedy was never even completed. There was something else that needed doing, but I don't remember what." Doc shook his head in frustration. "And to top it all off, the stuff is supposed to age for one hundred years. It still has twenty-three years to go."
"I have a book of recipes for making vegetable stones," said TP. "I used herbs for mine, but one recipe does call for honey. Honey and nothing else. I didn't even consider it because of the hundred years needed for completion. I'll bring you the book. Maybe someone can complete it, though it won't finish aging in time to help me. I don't even think there's time for me to make another herbal stone. It takes over forty days, and my powers of concentration are growing weaker all the time."
Doc paced the room, pursing his lips and clenching his jaw as if struggling with thoughts that wanted to come out. Finally he dropped to his chair and gave TP a long look.
"What?" TP asked.
"It's a crazy thought. Absolutely insane. But there is one way twenty-three years could be compressed into a matter of hours. Do you know what I'm talking about, TP?"
A warm breeze blew in the window, a bee buzzed in the vase of flowers, and the clock on the wall ticked faintly as TP cocked his head, pondering Doc's words.
"The only thing that comes to mind," he said, "is...but no, it can't be that. Can it? Good God, Doc! Are you thinking of..."
Doc finished the sentence. "The mistangle." His voice fell to a low growl. "I told you it was insane, didn't I?"
"Definitely insane. Hah! Hah! So insane I could suspect you of being the one possessed by a chimera." TP shook his head vigorously, as if trying to dislodge his thoughts. But the wheels were turning, and he felt a wild surge of power course through him, as if he'd suddenly turned into a mighty warrior facing an impossible quest. He felt like Richard the Lionheart, heeding the call to battle. The mistangle!
No comments:
Post a Comment