SCENE SIXTEEN Infirmary, Baltimore State Asylum,
"Then it's all settled? Jim's uncle will be here before the week's out? And he's bringing Jim's cousins Jeanny, Paul and Rob along?" Artie asked Jacques D'eglisier the next day. "And all the court papers will be taken care of by then?
Jacques and Artie were keeping their own sort of Watch on the brothers, from the vantage of the doorway between the infirmary and the Torry's "prize room'. Miguel, Jeremy, Mac Macquillan and some aides were working files that had been left behind in the proceSs of the former Administrator's apparent disappearance.
"Oui, Mme. Stuart sent you word, did she not, saying her brothers had already seen to every conceivable legality, sans only M'sieur Randolph's signature on the needed court documents? Et M'sieur l' President, will also be arriving then, Mon ami. He's cleared his schedule of everything excepting this journey south to see our jeune frere." Jacques nodded, frowning at Artemus, seeing how drawn the older agent was and how profoundly troubled he still seemed to be, despite all recent changes for the better.
"Wait! Now, what's wrong , Jacques? Why are you studying me as if I were a telescope lens with an odd sort of something or other on a slide underneath it?" Artie demanded, knowing that look and not liking it anymore than he liked the persistent gloom he was still feeling.
"Non, mon ami, that is the question I wish to ask you. What is still troubling you now, when we are, finally, no more than forty eight hours away from freeing James from this nightmarish place?" Jacques asked, still 'studying" the former actor.
"I dunno." Artie admitted, shrugging. "Maybe it's just that! Maybe the closer we get to springing James … and the Companies from this corner of hell, the more I worry that something else will happen, that something, or someone else will throw another monkey wrench into the works! And if that happens, Jacques, G-d alone knows how or when we'll ever get that … magnet for disaster out of here! You've spoken to Jere and to … Miguel and Jemmy, and Mac, and you know they all agree Jim could die in this place if he's kept here much longer! Jem went so far as to insist on predicting James and the small doctor could both die if they were caught in another outbreak of fever! And Thomas Macquillan is infamous for his gloomy perspective on what he likes to call Murphy's Law. You know, the one that says whatever can go wrong at any given moment surely will go horrendously wrong, just when you most need something to finally go right for a change!"
"Par example?" Jacques probed, knowing Artemus wouldn't voice worries he didn't have some basis for.
"Par example, Mon docteur ami, we still don't know who actually left Jim in this hell hole. We only know it wasn't Stephan Aynsley because he was too busy that day; killing himself and burning his house to the ground! And we don't know any more because neither James nor I can consciously recall who else was at Aynsley's lab, besides little Liesl. We still don't know who really owns this complex. We only know they're not going to own it much longer, because the county's about to sell it for back taxes. We still don't know who Aynsley's allies and backers in his plot to kill the President were, or are! We only know he must have had some damn wealthy colleagues to set up the lab and the torture rooms he had in that attic! And despite having Herr Professor Doctor Aynsley's lockbox in our hands for months now, we still don't know any of those things because we haven't cracked his damn ciphers!" Artie answered, counting off his current worries in order.
"O, par example, Jacques, it now seems to me that we're back to only seeing James awake and aware on a very irregular basis, almost as if the Companies were back to hiding him from us! Et par example, on some of those occasions he seems to be fully aware of what's really happened, while on others, Jim wakes up wholly convinced he actually did kill the Man that day at the Maryland House! Now, if that's not enough to have me still worrying, mon ami, I don't know what would be, aside from the usual nightmares about bringing the President into a pesthole like this one, even for Jim's sake!"
"Please, excuse me for interrupting, sirs, but please, you must not, you cannot allow that!" An intense, resolute, youthful voice protested, turning both agents' attention to another of the Companies. This was a swarthy, wide dark eyed, black haired, whip thin, young man in appearance, with a decidedly Persian cast to his features and his coloring, Artemus thought.
Jacques was only now getting somewhat accustomed to the Companies, and usually kept silent, making a somber study of each one he met. But this time the Canadian decided to change tactics. "And you are … I suppose one of D Company, non, m'sieur?"
"Darius of D Company, that's so." The youth nodded. "Please, mon docteur ami, m'sieur Artemus, my brothers and I in that Company bear no ill will towards anyone who has been so great a help as you and the rest of Oldest's friends have been. I hope you will believe me. D Company is not in the habit of lying… not to our proven friends."
"Mais, I would have thought surely we'd long since proven that friendship, M'sieur l' Emperor d' Persis." Jacques retorted, frowning at the youth's insistent manner.
"To Oldest, surely you have, time and again, M'sieur l' Docteur. And just to be clear, I'm only a … semblance in some ways of the historical Emperor of Persia, drawn from stories W Company read growing up, and our own history lessons about Phillip and Alexander and … Darius. My quad is made up of myself, L Company's Genrls Torry, V Company's West Pointer and … you might say, my counter-agent, W Company's Alexander."
"However it is D that has The Watch just at present, so I believe it falls to us to … well, frankly, to warn you. Your President Grant, or, as Oldest says, the Man, must not come here or anywhere within range of the Companies. We must not be in his presence, not even his vicinity, not until we're well and truly free of all our patterning. And as that patterning truly took years to implant, beginning farther back than any but the oldest Ls can remember, we are in rather serious doubt that can ever happen. So we must ask, we must plead, we must somehow convince you to prevent the President's meeting with Oldest, or in fact with any of us!"
"Darius, we've been trying to do just that from the moment the President decided to come up here. And we're getting pretty much nowhere with that. Do you, or your brothers have any idea whatever how hard it is to keep President Grant from doing just as he intends to do, ever?" Artie asked, wanting to laugh at the notion, but holding back on that impulse.
"We're quite well aware of the difficulty involved, m'sieur Temus." The youth nodded. "We rely on your renowned powers of persuasion to resolve this impending crisis, entirely."
"Clearly, you were not paying attention to what happened at Donelson, Henry, Shiloh, Champion's Hill, or Vicksburg, just to start off the list." Artie chuckled. "And then came places like Chattanooga, the Wilderness and Spottsylvania…"
"M'sieurs, please let us try to restate our case. We will begin at the beginning. Perhaps that will clarify the issue. We ask you simply to hear us out, and consider what we now tell you. And perhaps, as you put it, we will consider it 'the good news' if you will take our petition as seriously as we intend it. We have already in no small measure broken from the patterning, simply by approaching you, now, and by creating the encrypted Company roster. We don't know, truly, how much farther we can step from the Path we were set on. The nightmare and the patterning have always insisted we would only come to destruction, we would enter oblivion on leaving those boundaries." Darius offered.
"Well, then I guess we could at least listen to him, Jacques." Artie suggested, slightly amused at being more amenable to the prospect than his long-suffering, renownedly patient physician-partner.
"Bien sur. I am willing to listen." Jacques nodded, still eyeing the youth warily. "Commence, s'il vous plais."
"Remerci, m'sieurs." Darius nodded again. 'm'sieur Artemus was just now noting a shift in the amount of time Oldest has been conscious once more, in the past few days. And he is correct in his assessment. The danger we speak of now is the reason we have taken up once more our long practice of concealing Oldest Torry from the Enemy as much as is possible to us.
That Enemy is none of you, m'sieurs, and we are quite well aware of that, now. But that Enemy has not been as close to Oldest in many months time as he came the night W Company was dosed, the night L Company was terrorized by him once again, the night we decided the roster must be written out and left for our new friends to find. And the Enemy has never remained so close by for this long a time without meaning some terrible business or other!"
"Wait!" Artie and Jacques demanded Artie deferred to his partner, seeing Jacques curiosity lighting his eyes like fire.
"Darius," Jacques went on, his hazel eyes wide with worry. "Are you telling us that the adversary we have yet to uncover has himself been in this complex, and recently? Are you saying he personally was the one who rendered the Torrys nearly catatonique by the use of his damnable tricks, his loathsome manipulations and his horrendous lies?"
"Yes, m'sieur. And we were all terribly at fault in that instance, despite what Cour said the following day. We all know the cues and the tricks and the means he uses against us! We have memorized, along with every instant of patterning he's enforced on us every sign and signal in his bag of tricks. So we were all duped that night. We all should have known better! He will never leave the Companies in peace, and the worst part of that is, he doesn't even comprehend our existence!"
"Non, Sacre Bleu!" Jacques exclaimed, slamming his strong right fist into his left palm. "Non, c'est impossible, vraiment! Cette personne mauvais, this evil person, this insanely malevolent monster caused the Companies to come into being! And yet you tell us he has no understanding of what he wrought by his damnable abuses?"
"No. We believe the Austrian, Professor Aynsley had some glimmering as regards the Companies, but to a limited extent, as a sidelight to his main endeavor, that is, creating his Courier-assassin. But the other… remains unaware of us, which has been our best protection, until l'messieurs Thomas and Artemus arrived at this place and discovered L Company's presence. And since keeping our existence secret had been our way of protecting Oldest for such a long while, it seems best to us to continue that practice, at least where our Enemy is concerned. Thus, we have begun to conceal ourselves, and yet to conceal Oldest Torry within our enclaves, once more. We sincerely beg your pardon, messieurs for causing your misapprehension. These defensive measures were not directed against you, not in the present instances." Darius told them, frowning
"Darius," Artie started to say, when another brother-self emerged, stepping out from behind him. This was a sturdily built, sunburned, fair haired, dark grey eyed boy, seeming no older than ten or eleven.
"We mostly just call him Dari." This newcomer announced with a wide grin. "But he mostly hates that, which used to make it just that much more fun. Oh, sorry, hullo, I'm Alexander, of W Company. And I thought I could help ol'dari here out some, maybe making this go a tad bit quicker."
"I stood in no need of aid, not from W Company." Darius insisted, frowning at his in fact, older brother.
"Nope, you sure didn't. Except it was gonna take half the day to get to the point, at the rate you were marchin', old fellow." Alexander chuckled. " I've always been faster than you, W Company has all the best foot racers in the Companies, and you dang well know it."
"Alexander, if you don't mind a slight interruption for another question I've been …" Artie started over, only to be once more interrupted.
"Wees call hims us'sn Alex-brovver, temus Poppa." A third newcomer, a copper penny red headed child with wide hazel eyes called out as he was carried in, perched on the shoulder of a sharp featured, green eyed, rangy blond in full dreSsWest Point cadet greys. "Mees Genrls Torrys… an dis is us'ns guddes'Wes' Poynder. Wees camed nows t' hep us'ns Dari an' Alex brovvers. Wees sorriest to be camed later. But, Dari-brovver, yous an' Alex shoulda be waited fer us, shouldn't yous? An' Alex-brovver, yous shoulda no be startin' wifout us bein camed, you knows?"
"But, D Company has Watch, GT." Darius complained. 'so this duty, well, it should fall to us … shouldn't it?"
"Nope!" Alex protested. "GT, you know a quad should always tackle something this thorny together, no matter who's got Watch, and who's in bivouac, right?"
"And if you thought the quad should only take this on all together, Alex, whyn't you wait for me an'GT to get here?" West Pointer demanded, grinning. "Ds and Ws aren't well known for their patience, sirs. We'd apologize for "em but it just gets their dander up all over again whenever we do that. Go on ahead now, GT, we know our friends will always listen best to L Company, anyway, don't we, fellows?"
"Fanks u." Genrls Torrys nodded serenely. " Jacques, wees firs' veryiest gladder yous camed to see us'ns Oles' an all us'ns. Wees did be missed you veryiest many. An' temus Poppa, wees veryiest sorree wees got yous worryin' bout us'ns Com'nees be hidin' us'sn guddes' Oles' all over "gen. Wees no be no enny fraids of us'ns guddest frens, ever! Wees ony be fraids of us'ns Oles' be reel bad hurted, or us'ns guddes frens be reel bad hurted, like dem most baddest, maddiest, skeerdiest … skeerdy did be sayin! Wees shoulda be teld yous… Wees shoulda be teld yous many much fings… Wees tryin nows to be teld … an iz veryiest hard an' mos awfully skeerdy, pleese an fanks u, fer nows so long be waitin' fer us'sn to no be so many skeered?"
"Oui, mon General," Jacques smiled, nodding to the child. "If none of us were frightened in these circumstances, there would surely be cause to question our mutual and individual hold on anything like reason. Mais, you will recall our bien ami, Thomas' dictum on that very matter. Courage, he has been known to say, is only a matter of being …"
"Veryiest skeered an' doin'what's skeerdy anyhows!" The small General agreed. "An wees finks that's so. Pleese be came an' sit down wif us'ns quad an' wees be teld yous much as wees ken. Otays?"
"Of course." Artie agreed, and then surprised himself almost as much as he surprised Jacques by interrupting again. "But shouldn't we bring … Miguel in on this, and Jere, and Mac since they're just down the hall, trying to figure out some of the records we have gotten our hands on? Don't stare at me, mon docteur ami." Artie then whispered, as Jacques blatantly did stare. 'like the brothers just said, we'd best tackle something this thorny all together, at the same time, rather than over and over again, separately, right?"
"Mais oui, mais certainment." Jacques answered, still feeling more than a little bewildered.
"Ds have Watch, Wes'Poynder, yous sets mees down wif us'ns Jacs an' temus Poppa an yous an' Alex-brovver pleese goes brings us'sn Jer'my, us'ns Mee-gel, an' us'ns Quiyat Tommy backs, nows?"
" Yes, GT. Right away, GT." both brothers answered and marched off down the corridor.
"Artemus, are you feeling quite well?" Jacques took the occasion to ask, while they waited for their colleagues. "Artemus?" The docteur repeated as the older man kept looking into the "prize room.
"Better and better by the minute, Jacques, why do you ask?" Artie grinned.
"Simply because a few moments ago you seemed terribly concerned, indeed almost despondent over the present state of affairs here. But now you are practically nonchalant. This sudden shift of mood, I confess I do not comprehend, Mon ami."
"Oh, that, that's easy, Jacques, I just saw Jim waking up in the playroom, if only for a few seconds. But he looked … all things considered, a lot like his old self. And that's bound to improve my mood anytime I see it, along with the chance to confuse my favorite docteur, of course."
"Bien sur!" Jacques exclaimed, shaking his head in pure Gallic despair. A few minutes later, all five colleagues were listening to the eldest of this quad explain the matter.
"Dat mos'awfully maddy an' skeeredy … dat wants us'ns guddes' Oles' be awfully bad hurted. Dat wants all us'ns frens, pecially, us'ns gud, gud unc' Jimmy, us'ns guddes' Sam-fren, fars aways an'us'ns veryiest guddes 'temus Poppa mos awfully bad hurted! Yous probly be knowd dat a readys." The tiny General told them, his eyes wide and shining with tears and bravery.
"Sos, dat awfully skeerdy … maddy, hurtin' … mans, dat wants us'ns guddes' unc Jimmy an' us'ns guddes Sam-fren came heres, den wants us'sn guddes V's an' Ds t' be hurtin'on dem! An' … is veryiest baddy an' mos' awfully skeerdy, hows dat veryiest baddy an' skeerdy mans wantad … us'ns D's an' us'ns V's t' make many much baddes' owwees, on …on…" The child-General stopped in mid sentence and shook his head. "Wees veryiest sowwy, wees dunno if wees can be teld even us'ns guddes' frens "bout dat part… wees been so many of many much skeered t' be teld yous … Wees many much of sorree, reely! Dat baddes' mos' awfully skeeredy mans… dat be teld us… notelldis, Torry! No nevver be teld dis, no nevver!"
"Mes petites freres, n' vous disquietez pas, s'il vous plais." Jacques asked, rubbing the child's back as he'd seen Miguel do so many times. "What you cannot tell us just now, will no doubt come more easily at some other time."
"Jacques is right, Genrls." Miguel agreed. "Whatever you need us to know, the time will come when you can put it into words. There's no time limit on confidences between friends, so far as I've ever heard."
"On this confidence, there just might be an expiration date, DocM." West Pointer disagreed, and then turned his attention to the tiny General. "GT, Sir, I'd like your permission to take this discussion forward with Dari, Alex, myself and our friends. All respect of course, Sir, V Company feels it's putting an unfair strain on the Ls, yourself included to recount and in that way, practically relive this part of the most recent ordeal."
"Point, you're taking way too much on yourself, there, boy!" Alexander complained. "What makes you think V Company has high enough clearance to take any such discussion forward without GT?"
"Well, Alex, if you'd actually been listenin', you'd already know that's pretty much what I was askin' the General, just then." West Pointer answered with a taut frown.
"For once I think the kid's got something there, Al. Let him at least finish askin', where's the harm in that?" Darius offered with a wink at his youngest brother.
"And since when does Third Company give permission to 4th for anything more than tradin' rations when they've got somethin' worth the trade?" Alexander shouted, both hands on his narrow hips.
"Yous ri" nows be all toppin' dis arg… arg'ments!" General Torry demanded, jumping down from his place by Jacques to face off with his quad.
"Sure, GT. Yes, Sir, sorry, GT. Yes, Sir, sorry "bout that, GT." the three younger brothers answered all at once.
" Dats gudder." the seeming child nodded fiercely. "Nows, Wes'Poyn, yous be teld mees whys yous be ast dis, plees?"
"I asked this, Sir, because Fourth Company as a whole feels a deep responsibility in this matter. We essentially dropped the reins at the worst possible moment, a little over three years ago, Sir. And it remains our profound conviction that we should make amends whenever an opportunity arises. We see this instance as one of those opportunities, which we ask permission of First Company to take, on your behalf." The brother dressed in cadet grey answered, standing as if at parade-rest all the while.
"Wees … otay…wees 'llows us'ns gud Forff Com'nee t' be taked some of dis answerin' t' us'ns guddes' frens. On'y, Furstest Com'nee be 'tayd heres, an' Sekkon' Com'nee, toos fer if yous be need us'ns helpin… Dari-brovver, yous a'ready be knowd us'ns guddes' 'mart Ffird Com'nee does be hav th' Watch ri" nows. Yous be go."
"Yes, Sir." Darius nodded and gave the small General a crisp salute, before returning to his post.
"Wes' Poyn, yous nows can be teld us'ns guddes frens more of dis … veryiest mos' awfully skeeredy fings dat baddes' an' mos' skeeredy mans be teld."
"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." West Pointer replied and gave a smart salute of his own." Gents, we think this is likely to be what Mister Mac and Temus sometimes call a knees-bent sort of confab. So, y"know, sit comfortable, and we'll start up again. First off, we all think by now all y"all have some idea that th' Original Bastard as we call him likes to scare everybody for a thousand miles around him, as often and as badly as he can. And he uses every dirty trick in the book, and invents more when those run out. Mostly he uses a lot of threats, and a lot of pain, and a few tons of nightmares, some of which are partly … things that really happened.
Well, when he came back this last time… He had some of his thugs cart Oldest outa the main ward, for some more of his lousy "games', which you probably guessed by now. It was just like Temus and Miguel and Jemmy said the next day, The OB was about to lose his hold on this terrific place and on Oldest, too. An' he purely hates to lose hold of anything, y'see? He's pretty basically a greedy, grasping, damn all possessive … maniac. An' as you can tell, he don't care if any of us describe how he thinks or what he says or does. He only can't stand for anyone to say what he looks like or what he's called. He won't abide either of those things. He's right out killed folks for that, time and again.
Well, when he was last here, he made a big to-do about how our uncle Jimmy was comin' here, which he already knew. He didn't even talk about The Man comin' up t' Baltimore, not that day, he dint! All he wanted to go on about was what Oldest was s'posed t' do when Jimmy came here. And that's a big chunk of what scared the Ls so bad, worse than they've been scared we figure since that Army Colt blew up in Liesly's hands. But that warn't all. So I'll start with that part about Jimmy. The OB loathes our uncle. An' honest t' G-d don't none us know why. He never comes out an' says what Jimmy done to make him so crazed. He just says round about, Jimmy didn't come up to his damn all Southron Gent's Ways, an' didn't want to! So the Old Bastard always, always says that Jimmy "betrayed him', without ever sayin' how or when or why he'd do it."
"So, West Pointer," Artemus started to ask. "This Original Bastard has some kind of violent grudge against Jim's… against your uncle? And he makes threats against James Randolph?"
"Not in the way you might think, no 'temus." The Veteran answered. "That Bastard…he doesn't have the guts to go after anyone that directly. He'd like it fine if Uncle Jimmy just obligingly fell down dead while he stood by. He'd like it a whole lot better if Jimmy announced to everybody how he supposedly let the Bastard down, ages and ages ago, when they were at ol' William and Mary down in Williamsburg, and that Jimmy's damned ashamed of that.
Only Jim honestly dint do nothin' to be shamed of, y'see? The trouble they had back then, it's all in the Bastard's head, y" get that, right? But when he came back here that last time, the Original Bastard said Oldest Torry was to make that old shame absolutely, absolutely clear to Jimmy, next time they get together. And that's what scared the Ls and … well, all of us almost too much to talk about." West Pointer said and swallowed hard and looked away.
"WP, figure we'd best help you out with this one, after all, Little Bro." Alexander said, and Darius, from his post nodded agreement.
"Yeah, yeah, figure that, Xander. Go on ahead." the youngest of the quad nodded numbly.
"See, we figure this is maybe somethin' you fellas don't quite get, as yet." Alexander said to the team members, as he sat down next to his brother. "The Original Bastard wouldn't mind a bit if Cour had taken the Old Soldier down that day in Baltimore. He hates all Yankees and he hates the Man a whole, whole lot. On top of that, he'd truly admire to run the whole shootin' match, the whole danged country all by himself. He talks about that all the time, his Empire, stretchin' all acrost th' continent an' all. So he'll take as much power as he can get some damn fool or other to give him. He just won't go for it direct, or on his own hook.
But the real thing about him is, he don't care about any of that nearly so much as he does about getting his own back on our uncle Jimmy. If y" were to let him, he'd go on for weeks about how Jimmy wronged him, when nothin' like that ever happened. And if you listen to him long enough… you'd almost believe he's the one who got the short end of the stick. And so now he still wants what he's wanted since eleven, no more like twelve years b"fore our First Brother ever was born. He wants to break Jimmy down so badly the old fellow will want t' purely lay down an' die. And if he can't get Jimmy t' do that any other way… " Alexander sighed and dropped his voice, so that he could barely be heard now. 'then he wants Oldest t' do what the Bastard calls "wipin' out Our True Enemy's [by which he means our uncle Jimmy's] Great Dishonor with your own life's blood."
"Great G-d!" Artie whispered, understanding vividly why the Veteran had taken this narration over. "Alexander, am I understanding you clearly on this question? Are you saying this monster wants to enact his revenge on James Randolph by way of Jim's committing suicide?"
"As long as Jimmy's there to see it, yeah, that's pretty much all of that piece of the damn all nightmare." Alexander nodded, his eyes flashing. "We figure that ol' Perfessor Stephan heard the Bastard talk about that real fine idea so often, that he added somethin' very much like it t' Couri's patternin' when Couri was t' meet the Old Soldier."
"Bien sur, so M'sieur l' President reported afterwards." Jacques agreed. " James, or it may have been Courier, made a clearly suicidal gesture during that meeting. Mais, M'sieur Grant prevented him from carrying it out."
"Which Jimmy Randolph might not have the strength, or the opportunity to do, in a similar meeting." He's nearly old enough to be the President's father, after all." Artie muttered, and then looked sharply back at the brothers. "Wait, wait a moment here. What did you mean by saying this horror is "pretty much all of that piece of the damn all nightmare"?"
"We meant that he put something even more awful on the Ls, to make them keep shut, he hoped. But they're braver than a barrelfull of bears, as you've found out. But still… " West Pointer grimly took back the narrative. "Just because the Old Bastard doesn't understand the Watch, doesn't really know the Watch exists, doesn't mean he doesn't know how to use our worst nightmare of all against us.
So, the last time he was here, he had his goons carry Oldest Torry back to the prize room. He'd dosed Oldest, o' course. So by that ime all of us were like blue crabs caught up in a net. And he took out his fancy carved ol' pipe. He lit that damn yellowed, kinda bone colored pipe, and he started it goin'. And then he pulled out some of the threats he likes better than anything, Damn him! And Temus, you need to know, G-d only knows why, The Original Bastard especially has it in for you. So he goes on about how he'll get to you, and then DocM, Jeremy, Jacques, Mister Mac, Jemmy, and anyone else who tries to help us while we're still stuck here.
And he pulled every last one of the Ls right back into the time when … when momma died. And then he made it worse than ever, which we dint even guess anybody could! He starts in about how … momma died… He starts in about how we must've been lousy, rotten, disobedient kids… an' that must be why … He must have gone through that nightmare a thousand, thousand times by now. But this last time he added worse and more of it. This last time the Bastard turned our heads around, so bad, that the Ls still are muddled about it. He said if they didn't keep shut, if they didn't obey him… Poppa would be gone, that he'd be sad and hurt and then he'd die and be gone forever, just like momma."
"Dat does be th' veryiest mos' awfully skeeredy!" General Torry called out, miserably now. "Dat does be wut did be skeered us so awfully many, many much! An' wees sowwee, veryiest sowwee, but wees dint wantad us'ns guddes' quiyat, saddy-'milin', torybook readin', huggin' guddes' veryiest own Poppa t' go t' be a angel far ways wif us'ns momma! Dat mos' baddes', maddiest skeeredy, it be sed wazz gonna makt mos' awfully owwies an' saddies on us'ns guddes' ever Poppa!
Dat skeeredy did be sayd wazz gonna make go ways far an' far an' far us'ns veryiest own guddes' ever, bestes' Poppa! Wees no wantad no have us'ns Poppa! Wees wants us'ns Poppa! Wees, no wantad no have hims no, no more! Wees wants us'ns guddes' quiyat, saddy 'milin, 'torybook readin' veryiest own Poppa!" The child finally sobbed and leaned against Miguel as all the Torrys had at one time or another. When the small General cried himself to sleep, his adjutants simply looked to the team members, waiting their questions.
"Are you saying this … person, if he qualifies for that label, used his pipe tobacco, his drugs and his mesmeric tricks to scare L Company so absolutely…"Artemus started to ask and stopped, literally too shocked to go on.
"That notre petit freres now believe Stephen West is still alive now, alive and well, but only as long as these children keep their silence?" Jacques finished.
"Yep." West Pointer, and Alexander answered.
"Bien sur! " Jacques called out, fuming. "Mes amis, mes gentilhommes, we must now learn the answer to a central, and yet much obscured question. Qui est cette personne? Who is this somebody, this someone you have yet to name? What is the name of the Enemy we have been fighting all this while? Who is he? Surely the Companies must know who their instigating tormentor, as Miguel puts it, actually is!"
"That's a very good question, Jacques." Artie nodded. "What about it, gentlemen?"
"They can't tell you that, Artie." Jim West said now, bringing all eyes in the room to where he stood in the prize room doorway. "We can't tell anyone the answer to that question."
"Youngster, it's damned difficult going after someone, when you don't know who you're going after." Mac responded, walking over to Jim, putting one hand on his arm.
"I know that, Prof. I know that, maybe even better than you do. Because for a long while I didn't know who … the Enemy is. He's pretty damned good at making you think somebody else is at blame for …everything he's ever done. With his help, I blamed my uncle, my grandfather, and my Dad for a long while, I even blamed myself … I'm very sorry to say that sometimes I even found myself …blaming my own mother, and sometimes … some of you."
"James, when you say you can't tell any of us…" Artie started to say, joining Thomas next to his partner.
"That's just what I mean, Artemus." Jim answered, shaking his head. "I could stand here trying, all the Companies could line up and stand here trying for a month of Sundays and it would be no use, just no good at all. He's made damn good and well sure of that. I literally can't say his name. When I try, when any of us try, there's a stonewall. No, there's nothing."
"There's nothing but these really wonderful sensations of watching our whole World go up in flames… while we're standing there, lying there, crawling there, helpless, choking on smoke! Oh, by the way, the real reason I woke up and came over to join this little confab? GT's completely, completely right, and so are West Pointer, Alexander and Darius. You can't bring the President here! You can't bring him anywhere near us! That's precisely, precisely what… somebody wants you to do! Do you understand me now? It'd be worth the Man's life!"
"Someone I can't name still wants me to be his assassin. Someone I can't even try to think of and stay minimally sane while I do it, still wants me to kill the President for him! And when that happens he still wants, as he always has wanted, Jimmy to be here to see me do it. And he wants Jimmy to lie down and die from shame for what that someone blames him for, which is all of this! And when that happens he still wants you, Artemus, to deliver the coup d'grace to the mad assassin, me, yours, truly. only if I don't kill myself! And that someone will get his way if you don't listen to me, right now, this minute!"
"See, he doesn't care a damn if we tell you everything he has in mind, "cause he thinks nothing and no one can ever really stop him! He doesn't care who gets mowed down like wheat, if they come between him and his … Great Work! And least of all does he care what anyone knows about his damned planning, as long as nobody, anywhere, ever connects his name to the Courier-plot! Great G-d! Is that clear enough! Does that tell you enough about the core of every nightmare I've had … for longer than I can even remember, now?" Jim fell silent now, shaking with rage and remorse.
"That's plenty, Jimmy. Thanks." Mac answered. "I'll wire the Man right now. And he won't like it. But he won't come."
'Thanks, Thomas." Jim whispered, feeling the 'mudslide" coming just as his knees buckled.
"Whoa, Soldier!" Artie called out, catching his partner with practiced ease.
"Thanks, Artie. Really, thanks." Jim whispered and finally passed out, his head falling against Artie's shoulder, all his reserves from several days' rest thoroughly exhausted.
"Again with the 'thanks, Artie"?" Artemus jokingly protested as he carried Jim back to his cot. "… Again, it's a pleasure."
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