Chapter 10: Stardust and Starlings
Saturday evening outside the Miskatonic Football Stadium.
"Where's Neal?" El scanned the crowd. "He should have arrived by now. You don't think he got cold feet, do you?" The parking lot in front of the football stadium was almost filled.
"He'll be here," Peter said confidently. "Sara was probably running late."
"It's not always the woman, you know," El protested. "I don't think you appreciate what a big step this is for Neal."
"He's changing, hon," Peter said, slapping a look of regret on his face. "He's not the same deferential scholar who first approached me at the lecture podium."
"Who, Neal?" El looked incredulous. "If he is, it must be your bad influence." She gave a wave. "There they are!"
Sara like El was wearing a peasant dress a headband. Neal's jeans had holes in the knees and his tie-dyed t-shirt displayed a large peace symbol. Aside from being too clean, he and Sara would have easily fit in with the Woodstock crowd. Peter had found his old bellbottoms in a bottom drawer and had trotted out his beloved denim jacket for the occasion.
Neal introduced Sara to El and the two quickly bonded over love beads and Indian bedspread skirts. "Love your fringe vest!" Sara said to El. "Did you wear it at Woodstock?"
"No, I didn't make it to the concert but Peter was there."
"Professor Carter!" Peter turned around to see who was calling Neal. Several female students were waving at him, urging him over.
"They're from Neal's class," Sara said. "I talked with them when I had to stand in line to see him." She gave him a shove. "Go ahead. I'll come over and rescue you in five minutes." She turned to Peter. "I envy you being at Woodstock." She proceeded to ply him for details of the concert with a thoroughness that made him wonder what her intentions were. She'd promised it was off the record, but would this come back to haunt him?
Seizing an opportunity to change the subject, he asked, "Don't you need to go rescue your FBF?" Neal was by now surrounded by ten women and had been casting frantic glances over in their direction for the past couple of minutes.
Peter watched as Sara strolled over and put an arm around Neal. "She's just what he needs," he said. "Someone safe."
El shrugged. "I don't know how safe she is, but you're right he needs her."
Sara must have filled Neal in on what she'd gleaned from Peter on the way back because Neal was full of questions. "Do you have any photos of the hippie anthropologist you were dating?" he asked.
"We weren't actually dating," Peter protested. "Our interest in the concert was purely to conduct scientific research."
"A likely story," El scoffed. "I demand to see photos."
Peter crossed his arms. "Those babies are locked away in a vault so secure no one will ever find them."
El winked at Neal. "That sounds like a challenge to me. Next time he's away on a field trip, Sara, you must join Neal and me. You can put your investigative skills to good use as we turn the townhouse upside down."
"You're wasting your time, " Peter scoffed. "And a word to the wise: you don't want to broadcast your future heist to your mark."
"All part of our devious plan," Neal said, "to lull you into a false sense of security. Those photos will be found."
The concert was as glorious as they'd expected. Afterward, no one was ready to go home. Instead, they headed to Dorian's coffeehouse for drinks. As they walked over, Sara attempted to sing "Woodstock." What she lacked in musicality she made up for in enthusiasm. Peter suspected she was deliberately misquoting the lyrics to get a rise out of Neal.
"It's stardust, not starlings," Neal complained for what must have been the fourth time. "Crosby, Stills, and Nash were singing we're all made of stardust, not starlings."
"You sure about that?" she challenged. "I have excellent hearing and I'm positive they sang about starlings. Peter, what's your opinion?"
"You may be made of starlings, but the rest of us are stardust, right Neal?"
Neal grinned back at him. "You'll get no arguments from me."
#
Dorian's was almost as packed as the concert had been. "How did Sara manage to wrangle us a table?" Peter asked.
"She sweet-talked a couple to share a table with another two others." El smiled as she watched Sara place their order at the bar. "She spun a long yarn about it being our anniversary and that she was trying to get Neal to propose. It's a good thing he didn't overhear her."
"That would have killed her chances of ever going on a fake date again." The would-be fiancé was standing in the corner talking with the owner, Jack Dorian. Neal had mentioned he was a friend as well as a fellow artist. Jack appeared to be about Peter's age.
Sara insisted on buying the first round, claiming she needed to practice serving drinks for her undercover work. A few minutes later she came back with a tray of drinks—wine for El and Neal, beer for Peter and herself.
"A fellow beer-drinker," Peter said, raising his glass to her. "You've risen in my esteem."
"Actually I'd prefer a martini," she admitted, "but they don't have a license to sell hard liquor."
Neal slid into a chair. "Starting without me?"
Sara passed him his glass. "Jack had you buttonholed for quite a while. What did he want?"
"He'd lined up some musicians for tonight, but a couple canceled. He was trying to convince me to fill in." Neal shook his head firmly. "Not happening."
Sara made a face. "You big wus. I'd sing. Jack should have asked me."
Neal snorted. "You'd sing about starlings and drive all the customers away."
"Okay, so I may not know the lyrics, but—"
"—and you can't sing in tune."
"Yeah, there's that, but it's so noisy, no one would have heard me anyway." She pretended to pout. "Some fake date you make. Who'll ever believe us if you don't grant me this one tiny request? Besides, I bet El and Peter have never heard you sing." She turned to them. "Wouldn't you like to hear him?"
"I'd love it," El agreed. She sighed dramatically. "It's all I need to make my evening complete."
"And mine," Peter added, "but Neal told me once he only sang after a sufficient amount of wine. I estimate two glasses will be adequate."
After a combination of wine and much cajoling, Neal agreed to take the stage. Jack supplied him with a guitar. Neal must have sung here frequently despite his disclaimer since many knew him and were yelling songs for him to sing. "Fire and Rain" by James Taylor seemed the most popular.
"They'll never get him to sing that," Sara whispered to them. "It was Kate's favorite song. He told me he couldn't get through it now."
"How about something from the concert?" someone called out.
"Are you crazy?" Neal said, wide-eyed, "After hearing them perform?"
"Make a ballad out of it!" Sara shouted over the din. "For me, sweetie?"
Peter had to give Sara credit. She knew how to provoke him just enough to have her way. Peter predicted a brilliant success for her as a journalist.
Neal sang "A Long Time Gone" and the crowd loved it. Peter agreed but in light of the events of the past week, wished he'd chosen something more cheerful.
When Neal got up to leave, he was shouted down for an encore. "I'll need some help for this one," he said, scanning the audience. "Any volunteers?"
A few hands went up, but Neal ignored them. "Is that Peter Gilman over there?" he said with a devilish grin. "Yes, I believe it is. Wouldn't you like to hear him?"
El and Sara, laughing, shoved Peter toward the front where Neal could appreciate the full effect of his glare.
"What's the matter, wus?" Neal asked innocently. "You'll like this, I promise." He started strumming and when Peter recognized the tune he smiled his approval. Together they put on an unforgettable performance of Joe Cocker's version of "A Little Help from My Friends." Perhaps it was just the beer, but Peter felt a strong urge to let his sideburns grow again.
#
On Sunday afternoon Neal arrived at the Faculty Club to find the others already present. They'd settled on meeting on Sundays since it was the only day they could guarantee everyone's schedule was free. El was now a regular member of what Mozzie liked to call the Algolnium Web. He claimed he'd coined the name by linking the element to his theory on the cosmic web, but Neal suspected his inspiration had been Star Trek's Tholian Web.
"The beast that attacked us was a nightgaunt," Peter reported. "We found its picture in The Necronomicon. The author, Abdul Alhazred, mentioned he'd seen them flying in the night sky over his hometown in Yemen. He encountered one perched on the roof of an abandoned mosque. The beast Alhazred depicted is similar to a dragon with bat-like wings and a long barbed tail."
"Alhazred wrote that nightgaunts differ from dragons in that their skin is smooth and without scales," Neal added. "That tallies with our observations. Nightgaunts are incapable of producing fire. Their barbed tails are poisonous and can inflict painful wounds, as Peter can attest."
Mozzie rotated his glass of wine in his hands. "You've seen nightgaunts at the church and in that non-Euclidean tower chamber. In both cases the ruby crystal was present. It's tempting to hypothesize a connection."
"Gems and dragons . . ." El mused, turning to Peter. "Isn't there a Chinese myth concerning that?"
He nodded. "The flaming pearl. In fact, Chinese dragons are often depicted holding a fiery pearl in their claws or under their chins."
"You mentioned that several of the pages in the book were written in Chinese," El said. "I've been a skeptic as you know, but now with both Neal and Peter having traveled through an apparent wormhole and witnessed this creature on the other side, it doesn't seem out of the realm of possibility to believe that nightgaunts can enter our reality through another portal. Could the source of Chinese dragon myths be nightgaunts?"
"And not just the Chinese myths," Peter pointed out. "Legends about dragons exist in many ancient cultures—Greece, India, Mesopotamia."
"If we assume the ruby crystal acts as a gateway to a wormhole," El said, "the nightgaunts may provide the transport mechanism to deliver the crystal."
Mozzie nodded in agreement. "The ruby crystal could be an alien construct capable of generating a temporary wormhole. That doesn't preclude the existence of more stable wormholes. But focusing for the moment on the transitory ones Neal and Peter experienced, I doubt a mobile device would be able to generate a wormhole for very long. You two were fortunate yours stayed stable long enough for you to escape. I suspect if you'd dallied on the other side, you would have been permanently trapped."
Cyrus had been listening in silence while he gazed with unfocused eyes through the window. Turning back to the others, he said, "If we postulate Neal has been able to enter wormholes because of the algolnium contained within him, don't we need to consider the possibility that Peter also has algolnium?" He turned to El. "Have you tested him?"
Peter and El exchanged startled looks. "I haven't," she acknowledged, "but I should. Tomorrow morning I'll perform a spinal tap."
"And me too?" Mozzie interjected. "Please? My body is yours to conduct whatever experiments you'd like."
"We should all be tested," El asserted. "I'll have a technician perform the surgery on me. Cyrus, are you free Monday morning?"
While they compared schedules, Neal pondered the possibility that his friends could also possess algolnium. Had he infected them? Could it be transmitted through the skin? Was he a walking plague?
Peter broke into his thoughts. "We've agreed that Abdul Alhazred could have had algolnium within him which enabled him to see these creatures from another universe. But if nightgaunts are the inspiration for dragons, many others must have been able to see them as well."
"I've been wondering about that, too," El admitted. "If we accept algolnium formerly was much more abundant, the percentage of the population who carried it within them could have also been much higher. What do you think, Cyrus?"
He nodded slowly. "Yes, a natural attrition of the element could have taken place. As people died, algolnium may have seeped into the earth. It could mask its appearance, making it very difficult to detect."
"The ancient myths of monsters and demons we've dismissed as mere superstitions, but at least some of them may have had a basis in creatures from this parallel universe," Neal said.
"We should call it the A-Brane," Mozzie declared.
"A for algolnium?" Peter asked.
He shrugged, "A can stand for many things. Algolnium, Alhazred, Algol, Alpha, Azathoth. This brane is the first parallel world we've detected. The letter A is fitting."
"Does the Necronomicon mention anything about the Book of Azathoth?" Cyrus asked.
Neal nodded. "It was used by the Starry Wisdom cult. Members wrote secret names for themselves in blood."
"It's a shame it's disappeared," Mozzie said. "I suspect it's reentered the A-Brane."
Neal glanced out the bay window. The campus looked peaceful. But at night were ghasts stalking the streets throughout the world? Were nightgaunts patrolling the skies? If nightgaunts, ghasts, and zoogs managed to exist in their reality, was Azathoth out there too?
And what was the connection between the priest in the yellow silk mask and Azathoth? The one in the locked room had been a cheap imitation of the priest Neal met on the Plateau of Leng. That priest had said he served only Azathoth. How long would he wait to make a return?
#
A little over a week ago, Neal had been invited to the Gilmans to discuss his test results. Little had he realized he'd be returning so soon to review yet more tests, but this time the patient was Peter.
El had called Neal at the end of the day on Monday to extend the invitation. She didn't give any hint as to what the results were but suggested Peter and Neal pick up Chinese takeout at the Jade Dragon on the way home. Was that a signal? Peter and Neal joked about the implications on the way over. If she'd wanted them to be nervous about what was to come, she'd succeeded.
"I didn't give you enough credit for the strain you were under," Peter said ruefully. "You've had to endure weeks of tests. After one day, I'm ready to call it quits."
"Perhaps El included me to help celebrate that she discovered no anomalies," Neal suggested, trying to put a positive spin on it. Judging from Peter's expression, he didn't believe it, and neither did Neal.
They were now sitting in the living room. Peter had opened up the bar. He raised his glass to El. "The advantages of having your wife be your doctor. How many beers should I have before I hear my fate?"
El smiled and hesitated. "You may want to save them for afterward." She was sitting next to Peter on the couch. Neal tried to project reassurance as he perched on the edge of his chair. Had Peter felt this tense when El told Neal the news last week? Even Satchmo looked anxious.
"Then we shouldn't delay," Peter declared. "Tell me straight."
"This is as direct as I can make it. We detected a small amount of algolnium within your spinal fluid." She looked anxiously at him to judge his reaction.
Peter rubbed the side of his face. "I knew it was a possibility, but since the artifact doesn't have any effect on me, I expected the results would most likely be negative."
"The amount you have is much less—roughly one-thousandth of what's present in Neal's system. Mozzie doesn't have any, he'll be sad to hear. Nor do I or Cyrus."
"You're sure of the results, I assume?"
She nodded. "Cyrus has been working on a method to make algolnium easier to detect. He discovered that by adding a reagent—in this case a sulfur compound— to a liquid, any algolnium present hardens into solid crystals which can then be measured and analyzed." She turned to Neal. "It's thanks to your willingness to be tested that we could make the breakthrough. Now that we have a simple way to analyze fluids, the work is going much faster."
Peter has algolnium. The words played in an endless loop in Neal's head. El was discussing her favorite hypothesis for the cause—leftover trace amounts of a rare mineral deposit. But all Neal could think of was that Peter had the same mysterious element as Neal.
"I'd be more upset about this except that I've spent the past week lecturing Neal on why he should take it in stride," Peter admitted. "I can hardly freak out now."
Neal relaxed at his words. "You realize how envious Mozzie will be, don't you?"
Peter smiled. "That's one of the many possible benefits I see from this. And you know how I like cold weather. Now frostbite won't be an issue."
El's expression lightened as well when she saw Peter's reaction to the news. "Mozzie and I will have to comfort each other over being left out."
"I appreciate no one's called me Starman yet," Peter said, giving a small sigh, "but I realize I'm on borrowed time."
Neal raised his glass to him. "That privilege belongs to me. Peter Gilman, Starman, has a nice ring to it. We've visited other worlds. You're Earth's first space archaeologist."
"Careful. If you grin any wider, your face will split. I don't know if algolnium will fix that."
"You and Neal are possibly related," El said. "As yet we don't know if algolnium can be inherited. That's why I'd like to request your parents also have spinal taps."
"We don't want to alarm them," Peter cautioned.
"I can ask if they'd like to participate in a study of heredity. That shouldn't cause any distress."
"The fact that Neal has so much more than I do may account for his sensitivity to algolnium and his heightened ability to see ghasts."
She nodded. "Cyrus is conducting tests to see if there's any difference on the molecular level of the algolnium in your two systems."
"You mentioned you had another idea on why Peter has algolnium?" Neal prompted.
"That's right. Since it's such a small amount, I wondered if it could have been obtained through some external mechanism. Lavinia told Peter that the two of you were intertwined but she gave no specifics. Was this what she meant and how much does she know about algolnium?"
"I've talked to her about algolnium," Neal said. "I asked if either of my parents was extraterrestrial, and she wouldn't answer."
El winced. "I wish I could test Lavinia."
"Neal and I will make a joint assault on her and see if the team approach doesn't achieve better results."
When they moved into the kitchen to dish out the food, Neal pulled Peter aside. "You seem very relaxed about this. Is it just an act?"
He shook his head. "This result doesn't explain the mystery over algolnium and the experiences we've had. But it may help to solve another one. I knew we had a bond. We may not be related by blood, but algolnium will do just as well."
Notes: DNA profiling was unavailable in 1975 and could not be used to determine a blood relationship between Neal and Peter. In the next Arkham Files story, The Crypt, more will be revealed about their connection, as a dark secret buried underneath Arkham sets them on a new course.