Chapter 12: In Somnis Veritas, part 2
Eve walked around the office, idly taking in all the little changes and differences. There were photographs scattered around: Flynn and Judson, Flynn and herself, all three of them, all at varying ages spanning at least twenty years. There were other photographs too. Jenkins. Jones. Cassandra. Stone. Cassandra and Stone. Jenkins and Judson. Jones being arrested. Cassandra and a baby girl. Stone and a baby girl. Cassandra and Stone and a baby girl.
"Guess I'm not the only one with a future I wasn't expecting," she murmured, picking up a photograph of Stone with a flame-haired girl of about five on his shoulders.
There were framed newspaper clippings too. Odd occurrences in Ohio. Rain of toads in Wisconsin. UFO sighted over Paris. Practical joke terrifies hundreds in Prague. There were clippings of all types and fonts, Jones' mysterious escape from a maximum security prison being the most prominent!
She sat down behind her desk. Back in the annex, it had been Jenkins' desk, but they were in the library now and there was room to spare for a desk of her own, opposite her husband's. She wondered if Judson had found him yet. Maybe she should check. She walked over towards the door through to the library floor, then stopped. There had been something she was going to do, something she was looking for, before Judson had interrupted her. She turned back to her desk. What was it? She frowned. It was a book. A book from upstairs. She turned to the stairs and started climbing. Whatever it was, she would know when she saw it, surely.
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Cassandra turned her face to the sun and smiled. She breathed in the scent of summer. She felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Her tumour was gone. Her synaesthesia was under control. Her parents were enthusing over every new college prospectus she picked up. It felt like finally, finally, her life had started going right. There was just one little, tiny, niggling voice at the back of her mind that said: something is missing.
She flicked through a new prospectus. Most of the courses that drew her interest would challenge her at the higher levels, maybe, but the first couple of years at least would be too easy. What could she do though: she barely had a high school diploma, thanks to tumours and necessary home schooling.
She looked at courses close to home and further afield. She looked at degrees, diplomas and doctorates. She thought about the time she had gained and what she wanted to do with it. Did she want to spend that time with her parents? She had no real friends and no other family, and the whole world had just laid all its glorious possibilities before her. An idea crossed her mind and she giggled. She picked up all the course guides of all shapes and sizes, walked forward to clear, grassy area of the park, away from the bench she had been sitting at and threw them up into the air, hopping back out of the road as they fell down. She picked up a pebble from the path and threw it over her shoulder at the scattered books.
She could tell from the noise that the stone landed on a book. She turned back round, found the book in question, picked it up and opened it randomly.
"That's where I'm going," she said, thinking aloud. "That's my new course. That and mathematics, of course!"
XXXX
He was starting to panic. There had never been a lock he couldn't undo. Not ever! And how did he even get in here? And where were the guards? The public? The owner? Heck, even the janitor!
A small noise made Ezekiel's hair stand on end and his heart rate skyrocket. He felt the movement around his feet and looked down.
"Rats," he muttered, his breathing fast and shallow. "Why did it have to be rats!"
XXXX
Jenkins stood at the workspace laid out in his lab. It had been set up to deal with artefacts, that was true, but usually the artefacts were not active at the time and already safely contained in a box, bell jar, binding or some other container that suited the purpose. Right now, he had one very active artefact hovering right in the middle of the only place he could access that he knew had the information on how to stop it. He also had every single person capable of helping him lying unconscious in the same room, with no way of getting to them without being hit himself.
"I'm getting too old for this," he groaned.
He thumbed through the few books that he kept on a shelf in his lab, but to no avail. He knew the information wasn't there. He sighed and picked up his jacket from the traditional hat, coat and umbrella stand in the corner, tucked a notepad and pen into his inner jacket pocket, and made his way out of the annex. He would have to do this the old fashioned way.
Jenkins had chosen his position in the annex many, many years ago for the express purpose of staying out of the world. Now, more and more, it seemed he was being dragged back into it. He wound his way through quiet streets and busy ones, heading for the only other place he could think of that might be able to track down the knowledge he required.
He was heading for the public library.
XXXX
The corridors of the library sure were longer than Flynn remembered. Not that it should worry him, though: the library was always adding new areas. He turned a corner and headed in what he thought was the right direction. The voice sounded again. It was closer this time. That was good. He followed the sound of the voice. He passed row upon row of shelves, some with books, most with artefacts. Gradually the voice grew closer, but he still couldn't make it out. Suddenly it was right behind him.
"Dad!"
Flynn snorted and jumped as he woke up.
"Wha..." He looked around, dazed and confused.
"Dad, you were sleeping!"
Flynn looked up. Standing over him was a tall young man of about seventeen. He frowned and blinked.
"It's Judson, Dad," said the boy. "You know, your son? Did you bang your head again?"
"No, no," said Flynn, details becoming clearer now in his mind, "Just still sleepy. Give your old man a hand up."
He held out his hand and let the boy help him up out of the sofa he had been lying along, buried deep in the stacks.
"Were you looking for me in particular?" Flynn asked his son. "Did your Mom send you? Did I miss dinner? Is she mad?"
"No, Dad," Judson laughed. "She's working on something in the office. She thought you might like to know my news though."
"News? You have news? What news?"
"The Journal of Egyptology just called: they're going to publish my paper!"
"On the cult of Aten!" Flynn gave his son a paternal hug. "That is great news, my boy. Absolutely brilliant!"
"I was hoping we could go out to Amarna again, take a last look around before they publish it," said Judson, looking sideways at his father. "I'd hate to find out later that I'd missed something obvious!"
"My boy, there is no way," said Flynn, turning and placing a hand on his son's shoulder, "no way in this world that you would have missed something even remotely obvious at that dig site."
"Thanks, Dad," smiled Judson.
"Certainly not with me helping out around the place, anyway!"
XXXX
"Can you take those books back to the Bodleian, please Claudia," Jake said, passing a pile of three art history tomes over to his secretary, "and cancel my third year tutorial this afternoon, turns out I have a meeting to attend."
"Right away, Professor," the young woman piped up. "The Dean called about your meeting and I've cancelled the tutorial already. He faxed over some particulars for you. I put them on your desk. Will you be wanting your usual lunch or are you heading out today?"
"No rest for the wicked," Jake smiled. "I'll be busy in my office until this darned meeting drags me away, so you'd better get the usual sent up."
"I'll pick it up on my way back from the library."
"You're an angel, thank you," Jake headed into his office and closed the door behind him.
On his desk lay several piles of papers. Some were waiting to be marked. Some were awaiting return to their trembling authors in the student body. Some were his own notes. Others were just reminders. He didn't know why he bothered with reminders: that was what university secretaries were good at. Their job was not just to organise their professor's work schedule but, at least in the case of Professor Jacob Stone, to organise their professor as well. And he needed organising!
He dragged a pile of marking towards him and sighed. He wouldn't change it for the world.
XXXX
Jenkins was not fond of public libraries. They were so... public. He preferred to do his researching in private. He found a quiet corner and began searching the online card catalogue. Another benefit of having an IT-savvy thief on the team: he knew a little bit more about modern technology.
The results were not uplifting. There were a number of useful books in the library's catalogue, but many were at different libraries throughout the county. He could order them, but that might take days, even for those that were not out on loan. His other option was to drive all over the county tracking them all down by hand. That could take almost as long!
No point wasting time, he thought. At least he could make a start with the two books currently on the shelves of Portland's library. He stalked through the aisles and grudgingly selected the two manuscripts in question. This was going to be tedious!
