I apologize profusely for updating so late. I got very sidetracked… by Doctor Who. So good. I'd full heartedly recommend it for anyone who likes sci-fi and fantasy. Thanks to ilikedan for the lovely review!
Dobby's Imaginary Sock
Disclaimer: I can't even draw like Hoshino in my wildest dreams.
Part Eighteen: Sanctus
"The heavens and earth are filled with your glory.
Hosanna in the highest!"
Faure's Requiem
There was something off about his apprentice. He wasn't quite sure when it had begun- no he knew exactly when. It had been the day that Neah Walker had first come to him asking for his assistance in exchange to see history made. Junior's latest persona 'Sanjiv' raised his eyebrows, a clear sign of his interest. Of course, he too had been interested in what the young Noah had to offer. It would have gone against his credo to refuse a chance to gain crucial information, for that meeting between Neah and Mana had been crucial. Bookman had expected his apprentice's interest in Neah Walker to end as soon as that meeting was over.
He had been dead wrong.
Junior didn't stop pursuing more information on the Fourteenth after that day. For an entire half a year Sanjiv had kept a separate log on the exploits of Neah, Mana, and the magician Cross. He almost cursed himself for training the boy so well. His apprentice truly was zealous about his work. Only after the unfortunate destruction of Walker Manor did the boy cease to log about the Fourteenth. Bookman was almost glad to see the place go. That meant he could finally get back to training his apprentice without fearing that a certain golden-eyed teenager would pop by for a chat. The boy was after all only seventeen years old. It would be many more years before he'd actually carry the title of Bookman.
That peace didn't last long because on a blasted day in late August he'd received a telegraph from Cross asking them to pass a message to Mana. He wasn't in the business of favors- especially when it concerned smaller players in the game such as the magician- but he had mentioned Mana. A chance to hear from the renegade Noah wasn't one to miss, and Sanjiv had jumped at the opportunity. Bookman had thought little of it at the time, but now he was certain he should have gone to Liverpool in December. It was plainly obvious that something pivotal had happened, but he didn't know what.
To make matters worse, Neah Walker showed up again out of the blue. Surprisingly the young Noah didn't hang about the flat in Paris as he once did, but instead dragged Junior off to places unknown. This happened almost every day for the first six weeks of the year, and by mid-February he had had enough.
He decided to address Junior about his disappearances one Sunday afternoon when Neah failed to show up and steal the boy. Sanjiv was practicing transcribing the text of a Roman history book into the different dialects of Mandarin Chinese. He seemed to sense his presence and looked up. "Is something the matter?" asked the boy.
Bookman stared down- well, not exactly down, but eye to eye- at his apprentice for a couple minutes before speaking. "You have been more withdrawn recently," he commented. "I know that 'Sanjiv' isn't one who favors the spoken word, but as your mentor I do expect to be informed."
"Informed about what?" inquired Junior innocently.
This was something new. Never in the past nine years had his apprentice spoken back to him like that. It was mildly interesting that the boy had any opinion upon sharing whatever information he might possess, but also very infuriating. Bookman knew that Junior was by nature- not as a persona- very ambitious. It was the one characteristic that the boy couldn't seem to tame, the one bit of his own personality that he carried with him wherever they went. Because of this one flaw, Bookman had to be very careful about what assignments he gave his apprentice. He liked the boy's dedication to his studies, but more often than not he took his duties too far. It would be a long time before Junior would be ready to become the Bookman.
Bookman breathed in silently and deeply to prevent any frustration from showing in his face. "You have been running about with Neah Walker ever since the boy returned," he replied. "I'm just curious why the boy needs you around."
"Perhaps he's lonely," suggested Junior. His attention was fully focused on the book in front of him, a clear sign to Bookman that his apprentice wasn't telling the real story. That was definitely a concern, for a Bookman would never lie to someone else in the Clan, especially when that member was older and had more authority. Plus, lying was a clear sign of showing that one cared about something…
"I'm sure he would call on someone else first," stated Bookman while folding his hands in front of him. "He isn't exactly fond of you as far as I can tell."
"Well, I think at this point he's willing to talk to anyone," said his apprentice. He flipped a page in the book lazily with the flick of a wrist. "Even if it is me."
"Talk?" questioned Bookman. He turned away from his apprentice to look out of the closest window. "What does he talk about?"
"Nothing in particular," responded Junior. "He just rambles."
"He knows perfectly well that we're not here to listen to ramblings," remarked Bookman. This was beginning to pull on his nerves. He opened the window and pulled out a cigarette. "Besides, Road would be more than willing to listen to such nonsense. She'd make a much better audience. I want to know what Neah wants to talk about with you during every possible spare moment of your time."
Junior did not reply. Bookman appeared to have made an impact, though, for the boy no longer flipped through the pages of the history book. He stood there silently for several minutes waiting for his apprentice to speak, but Junior never did. Apparently 'Sanjiv' was not giving up that easily. The boy didn't express anything on his face, but Bookman could practically see the wheels in his brain turning.
"If you're feeling so reflective," began Bookman, "then go and meditate. We'll talk more about this later."
His apprentice closed the book and tucked it under his arm along with the scroll he had been writing on. Bookman finally lit his cigarette and took in a long draw. He was right that something suspicious was going on, and now he knew that his apprentice wouldn't be giving up that information as easily as the last time. The boy was probably even keeping a separate log again. Maybe if this were another place, another persona, another page in history he would have forgiven Junior easily again. However, this was still about Neah Walker and most likely his brother and that magician. It was one thing to have contacts, but it looked like 'Sanjiv' had developed ties.
A Bookman must always remain unbiased and removed from the world. Only then could he become enlightened about the events around him. Junior's past personas had done relatively well in that aspect. 'Sanjiv' seemed to disobey every aspect of that rule.
He could ask Junior to change personas, remove 'Sanjiv' from the picture entirely. That would be very troublesome, though, for the boy would then have to develop a completely new identity, thus losing valuable recording and training time. Then he'd have to explain the concept of personas to the Earl, and that was a whole can of worms he wasn't willing to open. Yes, changing personas would cause more problems than it would solve.
He finished his cigarette and extinguished it on an ashtray sitting on the window sill. Bookman then shut the window. That was when he noticed that it was too quiet. Of course, meditating didn't really require one to make noise, but he should still be able to hear his apprentice breathing. As a Bookman, he had a very good sense of hearing. When he walked over to the bedroom and opened the door, sure enough, Junior was nowhere to be found. Once again Neah Walker had taken advantage of the situation and spirited his apprentice away without his permission.
Bookman decided he would have to play along with this game. If Neah wanted a Bookman to observe whatever he was planning, he was definitely going to get more than what he'd bargained for…
oOo
Neah was a slave driver. That was about the only thing Cross was certain about anymore. He knew it well from his time back at Walker Manor, but eight years had made the brat even worse. Somehow- probably with the help of the Ark- Neah had left him over thirty messages on the table in his room asking him about the stupid gold ball. Cross finally decided to get a start on the project after finding his bed covered in notes containing Neah's loopy handwriting. Maybe the boy would stop giving him grief then.
He managed to borrow a small desk lamp from Dr. de Orta after the elderly head of the Science Department gave him a stern warning about how the glass bulb could explode in his face if he let it become too hot. Cross had yet to see this happen to anyone, but he'd just have to take Raphael's word for it. He had to admit that the whole concept of a lamp was very intriguing as well as the developing electrical system that the lab utilized. The only reason they hadn't announced this major development was that it was indeed far from perfect. On occasions when the system was overworked the generator would stop working or even catch on fire. Someday soon, though, they'd be able to trade in the oil lamps around Headquarters for the much brighter electric lights.
The solitary lamp gave off a small yellow halo of light as Cross set down a toolbox to start working on the… Thing. He wasn't quite sure what to call it yet, and after sixteen hours of work Cross was in no mental state to think of a name for the Thing. It only took a couple of seconds before he realized that all of the tools he had were much too big for the Thing.
"Damn it," he muttered. Cross ran a hand through his hair, only to have it flop in his face like every time. He was really going to have to see a barber sometime soon, but for now all he could do was tie it back. As a magician he had kept it moderately long- not nearly as long as Mana's, though- but now it was just becoming obnoxious.
He glared at the Thing. Its golden gleam reminded him of the eyes of a certain Noah who was probably wallpapering his room in notes at the moment. Cross really didn't want to give up and go back to that particular mess, so he would have to find a way around this issue. If only the ball were bigger…
Suddenly he got a brilliant idea. He looked around the laboratory. Of course, just like earlier no one was there. Cross took out a blank piece of paper and quickly wrote down several magic symbols in the shape of a circle. After he looked the symbols over he placed the golden ball in the middle. Now all he needed was the correct command. It was a more difficult kind of spell than those he had used in the circus, a much more archaic kind of magic. This kind of a spell needed a set word to activate it. It could be any word, but it must be carefully chosen. Words have a secret power- whether it was their basic definition or the perception they created- and choosing the wrong word could make an entire spell go wrong. Cross pulled a dictionary off a nearby bookcase and began flipping through the pages. After scanning several entries in the translations section he found the word he felt best fit. He held his right hand over the ball.
"Kaizen," he whispered. The Thing began to glow with golden light as it grew larger. When it reached the size of a bowling ball he stopped the spell. Now he would be able to work.
Cross touched the Thing only to have it open up. He was careful to keep it upright for there were some ashes inside. Neah had mentioned this to him earlier, but Cross still didn't know where the ashes had come from. Considering who Neah was he wasn't entirely certain whether he actually wanted to know the answer. Still, these ashes were going to make it difficult to work. He looked around the lab bench until he found a small cylindrical receptacle about the size of a child's thumb. Cross proceeded to use another spell to transfer all the ashes into this sealed container. He'd ask Neah what to do with them later.
Now he had to decide where to start. Neah had some pretty lofty and vague demands for the Thing. Transmitting messages, recording events, moving by itself… it sounded like science fiction even to him, and he was a magician. From what he had seen so far in the Science Department, they were not even close to making moving machines. The Millennium Earl also seemed incapable of this, for akuma did have souls. Cross supposed that this made them alive.
He sat and brooded in silence for a few moments. That's when the ringing began. Cross jumped out of his seat when he heard it, almost knocking over the lamp. The ringing didn't stop, though. After he calmed down a bit he began to wonder what was causing the noise. Noise generally meant that someone was making it, so obviously someone else was working overtime on a private project. Cross knew that some of the scientists were pretty zealous about their research, but continuing to work after a fourteen hour shift was ridiculous. He wasn't here by choice after all.
Since he didn't have any ideas for the Thing yet, Cross decided to go and investigate the noise. Hopefully it would be someone who could give him some sort of idea where to begin. Then again, it could be Neah messing around. Cross really hoped that it wasn't Neah. He lit a gas lamp to carry with him and started on his journey. The first two doors he passed were locked, but the third door was slightly ajar. There was light coming through the crack, so Cross knocked on the frame of the door. His knock was followed by a crash and a renewal of the ringing sound. Someone inside the door began swearing in Italian. The door swung back bringing Cross face to face with a short, portly, middle-aged Italian man. He looked furious.
"Accidenti!" the man spat. "What are you doing up, boy?"
"Sorry, sir," said Cross, although he practically had to shout over the persistent ringing. "I was working in the other room when I heard that ringing noise. I just wanted to make sure everything was alright over here."
"It would be if you hadn't scared me," grumbled the man. He pulled at his full graying beard. "Now I have dropped my invention and the damn thing won't stop ringing."
Cross looked over the man's thick arm to see a black metal box on the floor. Several wires of different colors protruded from the base of the box while two round bells sat on top. The bells shook constantly creating the piercing ringing noise he had heard earlier. "Let me pick it up for you, then," offered Cross. He walked past the man into the smaller laboratory.
"You should," sniffed the man. "I've been working on that for years, and now you've come and messed it up!"
"I said I was sorry," replied Cross. He noticed the bite in his voice when he spoke, showing just how long of a day it had been. "What is this thing anyway?
"This, my boy," began the middle-aged man proudly, "will change the future of communication as we know it. It's an electromagnetic voice transmitter."
Now Cross was very interested. He could care less about the electromagnetic part- he'd contemplate that later- but the man had said voice transmitter. "You're planning on using this to talk with people over a distance."
"Exactly," replied the man with a look of excitement clear in his eyes. "I made a model system in my home last year, but the Science Department wouldn't take a look at it. They wanted something larger scale that can carry voices long distances. This model here is- hopefully- the answer to all of this."
"That sounds brilliant," stated Cross.
The middle-aged man began to look at him suspiciously. "You're not here to steal my invention, are you?" asked the man.
"No, why would I do that?" inquired Cross. This man was making him very sour. "I have my own projects Mr…"
"Antonio Meucci," responded the man with a curt nod of his head. "You're that new boy, right?"
"Yes," replied Cross. "Although I wouldn't call being here almost a year 'new.' "
"Raphael didn't put you up to this, no?" questioned Mr. Meucci.
"Of course not," said Cross. "I already have enough work as it is. I already told you I only came because I heard the noise."
"I suppose I should be a little quieter," agreed Mr. Meucci. He walked over the ringing box and put it back on the lab bench. It continued to ring, so the scientist pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and started pulling out wires. "Merda! I may have to start all over on this model."
Cross walked over cautiously to the lab bench. He noticed that the box was hooked up to a smaller generator by a thick wire. He pulled the wire out of the generator and the ringing stopped. "So this uses the electrical system to somehow transmit the voice?" he asked.
"Yes," stated Mr. Meucci. He gave Cross a brief smile of thanks. "I need the electrical system to make the speaker and microphone work."
"What?" questioned Cross. He hadn't heard of a speaker or a microphone before. It was probably some new bit of technology that Mr. Meucci or someone else in the department invented. He began to think that he should look around the department more during his breaks.
Mr. Meucci shook his head. "I suppose you haven't heard of any of this," he tittered. "I can give you a brief description of my invention, but you must not tell anyone else about it. Do you swear that you won't tell?"
Antonio Meucci was a very strange man, a man Cross wasn't sure he could trust in the long run. However, he seemed to be the current expert on voice transmission. He would just have to take a chance with this fellow and hope that he didn't do anything to piss him off. "Yes, Mr. Meucci," replied Cross.
"Good, very good," stated Mr. Meucci, clapping him on the back. "How about you hand me those tweezers over there? The small ones with the rubber grip."
oOo
It had been a long time since he had been this exhausted. The last time was probably when he had stayed up all night helping Mr. Ziegler and Matilda look for Jacqueline after one of her wilder nights. He was certain there must be bags under his eyes just like on Mr. Meucci- although he probably didn't look as old and haggard as the man- but he'd just have to sport them with pride. His shift would be starting in half an hour.
They had made considerable progress over the night. The wires no longer stuck out of the box and the bells were silent. Cross had been surprised to find that the black metal box held a relatively simple system: a speaker, a microphone, a hook switch, a duplex cord, a ringer, and the keypad and frequency generator. It was simple, but genius. Now all they needed to see was if the system actually worked.
Mr. Meucci plugged the thick wire into the generator. "Alright," he declared. "We are ready to run the long distance test. I will go to a model I have set up on the top floor of Headquarters. You wait here and wait for it to ring around 6:30. If all goes as planned then we should be able to communicate."
"Yes," said Cross. Mr. Meucci looked anxiously at the door and the black box. "I won't let anyone touch it, Mr. Meucci."
"Yes, yes. Of course not," replied Mr. Meucci. "I better be off."
With that the Italian scientist left. It would take the man around twenty minutes to reach the top of Headquarters, so Cross began to examine the extra parts on the lab bench. They appeared to be small enough to fit inside the larger gold ball. There would still be plenty of room to fit other parts inside. He'd have to find a way to plug it into one of these devices. He wouldn't go so low as to steal another scientist's work completely. Mr. Meucci could take all the credit for this invention as far as Cross was concerned.
Other scientists began to walk through the dim hallways past the laboratory. Most of them were still rubbing sleep from their eyes or drinking coffee, so luckily no one bothered to look through the open door.
At 6:30 AM on the dot, the black box began to ring. Cross picked it up during the second ring. "Hello?" he inquired hesitantly.
"Cross!" exclaimed Mr. Meucci. It was a bit disturbing to hear the man's voice coming from the speaker inside the receiver. "Did the phone ring?"
"Yes," he replied.
"How many times?" questioned Mr. Meucci.
"Twice," responded Cross.
"That's the same over here," said Mr. Meucci. "This is going very well, very well indeed."
Cross heard someone stop outside the door and knock on the doorframe. It was Dr. de Orta. "Cross, whatever are you doing?" he asked. "I found the lamp still running on your lab bench. Did you think about what could have happened? It could have caused a fire or exploded or…"
He really wasn't in the mood to be scolded b y Dr. de Orta. However, the head of the department has a good point, for he had left the parts for the Thing on his table. Cross handed the receiver to Raphael de Orta. "I'm terribly sorry, sir," he stated. "I'll go take care of it right now. Could you take this, though?"
"What is this?" questioned Dr. de Orta. He held the receiver out at arm's length.
"Cross!" shouted Mr. Meucci on the other line. "Where are you going?"
Raphael looked at the receiver in wonder. Still holding it far away from his head, he spoke again. "Antonio," he said. "Is that you?"
"Dr. de Orta!" exclaimed Mr. Meucci. "I was hoping to talk to you about this today, but this is even better! This is the electromagnetic vocal transmitter I was telling you about. What do you think?"
"Well it certainly works," admitted Dr. de Orta, scratching his head. "Where are you now?"
"On the top floor, sir," said Mr. Meucci.
"Come down to my office so we can discuss this development," commanded Dr. de Orta. "I want to put you in charge of more trials. Then we can take this to the Chief."
"Are you suggesting this is a fluke?" demanded Mr. Meucci.
Cross honestly couldn't follow the Italian scientist's train of thought. He was completely ecstatic at one moment and then furious the next. When the two scientists began squabbling over the phone Cross picked up some extra parts from Mr. Meucci's lab bench and headed back towards the main laboratory.
oOo
A few days later he returned to the house on the outskirts of Rome. Surprisingly Neah answered the door this time. After cracking a couple jokes about just how long did it take him to figure out how to open the front door, Cross went straight to business. He pulled the Thing out of his bag.
"What did you do to it?" asked Neah, looking it over with a critical eye. "I'm pretty sure it was a lot smaller when I gave it to you. How is this supposed to go unnoticed?"
"I'll shrink it later," responded Cross. "I can't work with something that small. There wouldn't be any parts that would fit in it then."
"Why don't you just shrink the parts?" questioned Neah.
This conversation was quickly becoming more annoying than working with Antonio Meucci. Cross ran a hand through his hair and blew the remaining strands out of his face. "The idea is for me to complete the- the Thing with the parts at normal size and then shrink it," elaborated Cross. "It's much less complicated that way."
"Right," said Neah. The young Noah crossed his arms in front of his chest and walked around the Thing. "What did you do to it?"
Cross reached into the large bag yet again and pulled out two boxes. Out of the first box he removed one of the black metal boxes and unplugged the receiver. He took a cord connected to the Thing and placed it in the transmitter jack. Then he stretched a different cord over to a wall jack where Neah and Sanjiv had set up a telegraph machine. Cross disconnected the wire from the machine and plugged the box into the wall jack. The second box contained a small portable generator. He plugged the metal box into the generator and motioned for Neah to come over.
"Turn this crank," he ordered Neah.
"What?" inquired Neah. He narrowed his eyes.
"You've worked before," stated Cross while rolling his eyes. "All you need to do is turn the crank to generate an electric current. I'm expecting another scientist to call in the next five minutes."
"Call?" questioned Neah, his eyes narrowing in confusion. He started turning the crank, albeit slowly. Apparently he wasn't quite as strong as his older brother. Cross began to consider checking the house to see if Mana was around. "What do you mean call?"
The bells on top of the box began to ring, causing Neah to stop turning the crank momentarily. "Answer," Cross said to the Thing. The voice transmitter stopped ringing. "This is Cross."
"Ah good," sighed Dr. Meucci's voice over the line. "The connection is able to traverse the city. Just leave the equipment in my office when you return."
"Yes, sir," stated Cross. He pressed the hook switch to disconnect the call and then began to pack away all of the equipment.
Neah stared at the Thing with wide eyes. "It talked," was all the young Noah managed to say.
"Yes, it did," replied Cross. "We used the telegraph cables to connect this voice transmitter to another one at Headquarters. It uses sound waves to-"
"Look, I don't really care about whatever science goes behind it," interrupted Neah. "Do I have to use one of these box things in order to be able to talk to someone else?"
"I haven't been able to make then mobile yet," explained Cross. "I'd probably have to put a tracking device inside of them so that they could connect to the telegraph system."
"But I don't want it to be traceable," said Neah with a frown.
"I didn't think so, but I could put in something else to block any locating signals," continued Cross. "I can probably use some of the parts in there already to make it record sound. Visual recording will be much more difficult. Then all that's left is the movement and whatever those ashes are."
"That's something that I need advice about," admitted Neah. "Those ashes were once a message on a piece of paper. I need for them to reconstruct as a type of visual projection so that someone else can read them."
Cross was starting to think that the damn Thing was going to be a lot more work than he expected. As annoyed as he was with this thought, he couldn't help but to be a bit excited. After all, the Thing was now a part of a new high speed communications network. The Thing would be something completely new to the world, for all he knew it might change it entirely.
Mana came down the stairs into the main room, shouting over his shoulder. "Just stay put for a few minutes," he called out.
"But I don't see the point of standing here with these books on my head!" shouted Sophia from the upper floor. There were a few thumps as what was probably the books fell off of Sophia's head.
"It's a good exercise for learning good posture!" he exclaimed. "I won't let my dear family keep you from becoming a proper young lady, so put those books back on your head."
"But I'm not a proper young lady," protested Sophia. "I'm a maid turned barroom singer! People could care less about the way I act as long as I look nice and don't cause trouble."
Cross found that last bit concerning. He'd heard many of the young women at the circus saying the same thing about their profession. Eventually they'd fall into a cycle of despair that led to alcohol abuse and manipulative boyfriends who would promise them the world but then leave them in the dust for some more respectable girl. He decided that he would talk to Sophia about this later. Cross didn't want her living her life like that.
Mana gazed sadly up the stairs. "I think there's more to you than a pretty face and a beautiful voice, Sophia," he said. "People are just using your talents in an attempt to keep you tied down to the lowest rungs of life. I can see you want more than that, but you've got to show them that you're just as good as they are if you want to achieve your goals, whatever they may be. Besides, even if you end up being a farmer or a peanut vender these skills could help you someday. I've always believed that you have to keep on learning new things for your entire life."
Cross heard Sophia moving upstairs to pick the books up off the floor. "Alright, Mana," she groaned. "But it doesn't change the fact that this really hurts. You should try balancing four of Sanjiv's books on top of your head sometime."
"Perhaps after dinner," responded Mana. He turned to face Cross and Neah, and then spotted the Thing. "What's this?"
"It's a…" trailed Neah, obviously racking his brain for some sort of name.
"Thing," replied Cross. He gestured at the golden ball in a grand matter, almost perfectly imitating Mana. "The Thing."
He looked at them for a moment and then burst out laughing. It was rather infuriating in Cross' opinion. "The Thing!" snickered Mana. He put one hand on his side and used the other to support himself on the table as he continued to laugh. "I think it's going to need a better name than that. Isn't it a bit bigger than the last time I saw it?"
"Yes," answered Cross. "I needed it to grow larger so that I could fit the new parts inside."
Mana began poking the Thing. "What does it do?" he asked.
"Well, it transmits sound now, and-" started Neah. He didn't get to finish the basic explanation for all of a sudden the Thing opened its mouth. Cross had not been aware that the Thing had a mouth or any other opening besides the flap in the back where he'd inserted the new parts. The Thing apparently also had a full set of fanglike teeth. It snapped at Mana's hand, causing the older Walker to pull it back quickly.
"What the hell?" he exclaimed in fright. "It tried to eat me! Why did you give it all of those teeth, Cross?"
"I didn't give it those teeth!" he spluttered. He began to look for some paper to write down a freezing spell. "I only put in the communication equipment."
The Thing began to glow gold and expand once again. That was a new one. It was now the size of a small shrub. The Thing attempted to lash out at Mana again, but it couldn't reach. This failure didn't stop the Thing, so it attempted to roll off the table. It was blocked in, however, by the boxes containing the voice transmitter equipment.
"Well, it's still bloody violent," spat Mana. He ducked as the Thing whipped its tail at him. The tail barely missed him. "What did I do to provoke it?"
"You were poking it," replied Neah, also ducking the cord. "That wasn't exactly what I'd call smart. Did you do anything else to it, Cross?"
"Why do you two assume that it's all my fault?" he shouted. "I just used a growth spell and put in the equipment. What about you, Neah? Where did you get that ball?"
"I swiped some akuma parts from the Earl's laboratory," stated the younger Walker. He picked up a fire poker and used it to block another swing from the cord. Neah ran closer to where Mana stood.
"AKUMA PARTS?" bellowed Cross. His brow furrowed as he glared at Neah. "WE DON'T EVEN KNOW EXACTLY WHAT AKUMA ARE MADE OF YET! WHY THE HELL DID YOU THINK USING AKUMA PARTS WAS A GOOD IDEA?"
The door on the other side of the room opened and the akuma kid poked his head out of it. "What's going on?" he questioned while rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"Hey kid, calm the Thing on the table down," ordered Neah while he tried to untangle the fire poker from the cord. "It's made of the same stuff as you, so you should have some idea of how to stop it."
The akuma kid looked at them and then the thing on the table. He proceeded to slam the door and lock it.
"Come back!" begged Mana, his eyes widening. "I'm sorry my brother is a rude prick-"
"Hey!"
"-but we need your help!" cried out Mana.
The door didn't open. Cross was pretty sure he heard the kid laughing on the other side of the door. He wasn't surprised at all. The Thing grew larger once again, reaching the size of the table top. Because of the extra weight the legs of the wooden table flew out from under it. Cross ducked to avoid the flying legs. Mana wasn't quite as lucky and received at hard whack on the side of his head. He stumbled to the ground. The Thing seemed to notice this sign of weakness and lashed at its longer tail at the older Walker brother.
Cross had not been expecting it, but Neah jumped in front of his older brother and took the blow. He was thrown into the closest wall, hitting it hard enough to create a large dent in the wall. Neah slid down the wall and landed in a heap on the floor.
"Neah!" cried out Mana. He ran over to his brother.
Sophia walked down the stairs but stopped before reaching the bottom. "What happened?" she inquired, surveying the scene with large blinking eyes. She moved her brown skirts out of the way of the swinging cord.
"The Thing is going crazy," explained Cross while rolling out of the way of the now free rolling Thing. "It was probably a mixture of the parts used and magic. Anyhow, it won't stop growing because it's trying to reach Mana."
"Did you try asking it to stop?" she asked. Sophia walked down the remaining stairs and moved along the perimeter of the room.
"Why would that work?" questioned Cross.
She pointed to Mana. "It responded to him poking it," she said. "Obviously it can think and respond, so maybe if you asked it nicely-"
It was the most illogical idea he'd heard, but he didn't have any other suggestions. Plus it was getting closer to Mana and Neah, gnashing its teeth quite threateningly. "Hey!" he shouted at it, feeling quite stupid the entire time. The Thing stopped rolling and faced him. "Would you just get smaller, please?"
The Thing seemed to examine him intensely before shrinking back to its original size. Cross couldn't believe his luck. He began to inch towards it slowly, holding his left hand out. When he touched the Thing it didn't snap at him. It curled the cord around its main body like a cat, allowing Cross to pick him up without biting him.
Mana stared at the Thing with his mouth agape. "It actually listened to you?" he inquired.
"So it would seem," stated Cross. He moved to the collapsed table and began examining the equipment. Thankfully the cases had protected the voice transmitter and the generator, so Cross would not be in trouble tonight.
Neah moaned and sat up next to Mana. "Did you guys get it?" he asked while rubbing his temples.
"Yes," replied Mana. He helped Neah stand up. "Cross got it to calm down by speaking to it. Apparently it can hear us."
"Really?" asked Neah.
The Thing bared its teeth at the two Walker brothers, causing them to cower back towards the wall. Sophia crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I think you should apologize," she said.
"What?" exclaimed the two brothers. Both of them wore identical expressions of shock: mouths agape, eyes wide, and eyebrows almost completely hidden under messy, wavy black bangs.
"Well, you both aggravated him," she explained. "Mana, you poked him. And you, Neah, tried to fight him off with a fire poker. That could have hurt him."
"When did we decide the Thing was a him?" asked Cross. Sophia glared at him as the Thing's cord-tail drooped. "Okay, it's a him."
"It could have hurt me," retorted Neah. "Luckily I don't go down that easily. The Thing did hurt Mana, though."
"Really, I'm fine," said Mana, waving a hand loosely. He avoided looking his brother in the eye. "Thanks for taking that hit for me."
"No problem," responded Neah. "It wasn't too bad."
"I don't think the wall agrees," muttered Cross as he admired the nice Neah-shaped indent. He'd have to use magic to fix it later. The table needed his attention first.
Sophia looked at the two brothers and pursed her lips. "Well?" she inquired.
Neah sighed and walked towards the Thing. "I'm sorry," he grumbled.
"I'm sorry, too," apologized Mana. He bowed in the Thing's direction. "I can only hope that you'll forgive me."
The Thing turned what apparently was its back side to Mana. It appeared that he didn't forgive easily. Mana pouted, but seemed to relax since the Thing did not growl at him or try to bite his head off.
The front door swung open as Sanjiv stepped inside. Cross had no idea where the young Bookman had gone off to, but he didn't really care. As Sanjiv hung up his cloak he noticed the damage in the room. "What happened here?" he questioned. His face looked completely indifferent, but Cross could see something different in his eyes. It was a gleam that only appeared when the young Bookman was truly curious about something.
"We had a bit of an accident," elaborated Sophia. She looked over at the Thing. "Cross brought over his latest project, but Neah and Mana sort of provoked him. He went haywire after that."
"What exactly does this… invention do?" asked Sanjiv, walking over towards Cross and the broken table. For the third time that day he explained what the Thing did and how it worked. Sanjiv seemed to follow the conversation easily even though he wasn't a scientist, which made everything a lot easier for Cross. When he finished telling Sanjiv about the rampage, the young Bookman only had one question. "What word did you use for the growth spell?"
Cross took his pocket dictionary out of his bag and flipped to the page with the word. "Here it is: Kaizen," he said. "A Japanese word for growth."
Sanjiv raised an eyebrow and then stood up. He walked over to the desk and picked up one of his books. The young Bookman continued flipping through pages even as he walked back to the table and sat down. Finally he stopped and pushed the book in front of Cross. "You should cross reference words," remarked Sanjiv. "Some dictionaries are not as specific as others."
Cross looked down at the page and found the word and the definition. "Kaizen," he read aloud. "Continuous, never-ending improvement."
"That doesn't sound like growth to me," commented Mana as he leaned back in his chair.
"It is growth," replied Sanjiv. "It's just not necessarily the literal sense of growth. It's a philosophy of self-improvement over time."
Cross put his head down on the repaired table. This revelation was much too embarrassing for it explained just about everything that had happened in the last twenty minutes. "So the spell I cast causes him to grow continuously," he stated. "And this is not just in a physical sense. It means that he can also learn new things."
"That's pretty remarkable," chirped Sophia.
"Well, shouldn't you just cancel the spell then?" questioned Neah.
Cross picked his head up. "I'd have to start all over again then," he responded. "There's a chance that the spell might cancel all spells put on him."
"I like him the way he is," declared Sophia, smiling down at the Thing. The Thing began to wag his tail like a puppy.
"So do I!" exclaimed Mana. The Thing growled at him. Mana shrunk back but didn't remove his support.
The door to the next room opened a crack so that they could just make out the akuma kid's face in the darkness behind. "I vote that we should keep him," he remarked. "He's the only sensible thing around here." With that said, the kid slammed the door once again.
"You might be right about that," mumbled Cross as he looked over the occupants of the house. He turned his gaze to Sanjiv, although he was pretty certain the young Bookman wouldn't say anything.
Today, however, Sanjiv surprised him. "I'm interested in where this experiment will go," admitted the young Bookman. "Mixing Noah technology with ordinary science and magic… it's unprecedented."
Neah didn't look at anyone else in the room, choosing to look out the window at the cold, damp streets of Rome. Cross knew it was all up to him as everyone- even the Thing- looked up, waiting for him to speak. He ran a hand through his hair, even though he had already made up his mind.
"I'd hate to start all over again, so I'll keep working on this model," decided Cross. He finished packing everything away. "I'll start another one in case this one doesn't work out."
"Alright," stated Neah. He frowned at the Thing, a dark shadow falling across his face. "But if he ever tries to swing at me again, then I'll dismember him personally."
Cross felt the Thing burrow into his hand in a manner that reminded him of a frightened animal. He couldn't blame him, for he was just a little golden ball up against a big, scary Noah. Perhaps he would give the Thing some horns just so he'd have a fighting chance.
Okay, we have more on our favorite golem in this chapter. I want to give a brief explanation about the whole creation of the telephone thing since I found the whole story fascinating while researching. Anyhow, we were all taught in school that Alexander Graham Bell created the telephone, which is kind of true. He just filed for and received the patent first. An Italian-American scientist by the name of Antonio Meucci is recorded as the first person to invent the telephone. He, however, made an error when filing the patent, so Bell got it instead. Meucci's telephone was created in his home on Staten Island in 1854, just in time for the current timeline of the story. :D Please review!