September 30, 1870 – 3:45 am
I cannot logically assess or explain what I and three others witnessed this evening. The only premise I can posit is that the diamond entombs a dark, unrealized presence whose strength is incalculable. Following my last entry, I drifted into a soothing slumber for the first in days, but around twilight, I heard a pounding at my door. I awoke amid a foggy, lethargic haze, and found General Stripe standing in my door-frame. He asked I attend an evening stroll with him along the riverfront. There was a small glimmer of adventure manifesting beneath his astute facade; a hand offering promises and redemption, so I obliged.
"I am quite fond of nights like these along the river," Stripe admitted. "The tranquility is so often meditative that it purges one of their uncertainties. If a man chooses to find himself, all he need do is gaze up into the night sky, for he will surely find himself."
"Thomas," I insisted. "I am well aware of the endeavor we are about to embark on, but please believe me when I say that this will not be like—"
"It's not that, Charles. My concern is for everyone who is a part of Solaris."
He was right. I could not deny this.
"How far are we willing to take this effort?" he then asked me. "How far are you willing to journey for those unanswerable questions?"
I was unable to conjure a suitable answer that would satisfy his vexation, and this lack of closure terrified me. There are no limitations to how far I would go for those answers. As it stands... or as it would appear, I would sail to the ends of the Earth for my answers. I wanted so badly to confess this to Stripe, but a troubling anomaly soon captured our attention. We were near the laboratory when we noticed a pulsing, mauve flicker igniting the sky over the warehouse.
"The laboratory," I yelled. "Somethings happening!"
Stripe wasted no time barging through the warehouse gates. I asked one of the guardsmen to quickly notify Julian. Then those ethereal voices returned to my head, but only in a faint murmur. We rushed over to a company of men who gathered just outside of the warehouse doors.
"Brigadier Colonel Dogg," one of them said. "He attempted to breach the diamond chamber!"
"He may be in danger!" I said.
"What happened?" Stripe asked.
"I do not know, sir," the man hastily informed. "There were explosions. Now, just before you arrived, this happened."
He pointed to the sky where, no more than a hundred feet above, a vortex of menacing clouds and gales had gathered, swirling in an ominous spectacle.
"We must move quickly," I insisted.
We entered the laboratory. The diamond is kept in an ironclad chamber, removed from the rest of the arsenal. As we approached it, we saw purple flashes erupting from inside. The luminosity and frequency were exceptionally hypnotic. I almost lost my footing. We were in the midst of something cosmic and unearthly. Finally, we reached the chamber. Dogge was alive and well, huddled against the wall with his gun drawn.
"Somebody is inside," he whispered to us.
Stripe jumped to another side of the doorway, but I chanced to peer into the chamber porthole. I bore witness to a most awesome exhibition: the diamond—still enclosed in its glass shell—was flickering, however, not unaided. The attendance of an enormous phantom encircled it. It moved so effortlessly as without legs. Then I heard it. A chilling, soft-spoken voice, which rendered me cold and frightened, called forth. It was the diamond. It spoke!
"Congrego omnes septem, et vester desideria sine fine erit," it said so softly. "Erunt in misericordia tuus tenaci."
My head was soon trembling from those sharp ethereal voices. They sounded like howls and excruciating cries.
"Resuscitare mihi si vos; tibi dabo offero prodigia dei. Tollamque manum meam; ostendam tibi alia parte mundi."
My eyes were throbbing. I could not grasp a single breath. Those sharp cries rattled me so deeply. I collapsed to the floor, and then, to my horror, the soft-spoken voice acknowledged our company.
"Non soli sumus," it said. "Ad ostium tabernaculi; occidere eos!"
Those maddening voices screamed in clear English, "Leave! Leave now!"
A wave of radiant fire erupted from the chamber, tearing down the door, and hurling all of us into the air. Nothing was set ablaze; the fire was simply a shock wave. When we came to, all of us seemed in good health, and the diamond sat peacefully in its case as though nothing happened. My head still rattled, so I was brought to my office. I sat at my desk, watching Stripe pace back and forth with his hands tightly clasped behind his back. We were waiting for Julian.
"I cannot rationally explain what happened," I confessed. "I can, however, say with certainty that the dialect in which the voice spoke was Latin."
"That's not possible," Stripe angrily muttered. "How can a diamond speak?"
"Anything is possible given our work."
"What did it say?"
"It spoke of granting untamed power. There was something in there with it."
Dogge stepped inside. "Whatever you saw, Dr. Morgan, it is gone now."
"Are you sure of what you saw?" Stripe asked.
"Yes. Before the explosion, the voice instructed that if all seven were collected, power would be granted to the collector. It offered our mysterious individual the luxury of perceiving the other side of our world. I do not know what it means, but that is what it said."
"All seven?" Stripe reiterated.
"Yes, but I do not know."
Julian finally arrived, stunned, appalled, and quite fatigued. Stripe assured him we were all unharmed, then vigorously detailed our account. Julian kept silent and still. Once or twice, he would stand up, amble towards the window, peer out, and then pace back. Afterward, he coldly proclaimed, "We will proceed as intended."
"That diamond is a weapon, Julian!" Stripe shouted. "If we do not dispose of it—"
"I will not allow you to dispose of it, General!" Julian bellowed back.
"Have you seen the chamber door? It is in pieces! More than likely, that was not even its full extent! God forbid if we provoke its full strength, the public would be in relentless danger!"
"I understand your plight, General, but the termination of the project will force all its assets to be improperly discarded. If they were to fall into erroneous hands, the risk would be far greater. You mentioned it yourself; it is our responsibility. We must contain it."
"Then what should we do?" I asked.
"If what you say is true, Charles—that a man was seen inside the chamber, then we must assume our project has been breached by spies. General, I suggest you assemble your elite company. All further inquiries will be under my direct supervision."
That was Julian's order. At spent the remainder of the night in my office, where I currently reside. Sleep is unattainable. The sight of Stripe's bitter resentment towards Julian lingers and prods my every thought. I suppose I will ruminate further on this fantastic catastrophe.
8:44 pm
Colin woke me this morning to explain that we were to assist von Schlemmer in assessing a strange marbled orb that was recovered in the craft's rear hull. Julian was absent for the morning. He was summoned by authorities to explain what happened. Regardless, our work had to continue unabated.
The orb is one of the more curious artifacts, partly because its purpose, at first, seemed ineffectual. It measures 6 feet in diameter, and weighs the amount of a streetcar... or so I estimate. It is too heavy to lift. Ribbons of aqua, teal, and green twirl and dance along its surface. Inside, dense sparkling clouds churn like a powerful ocean gale. It is incapable of holding an electric charge, nor can it conduct electricity. Light will not penetrate through its dense body. Much like the diamond, it can withstand vital blows without so much as a scrape.
"It is a conductor," von Schlemmer wagered. "But not of electricity. I believe it is the raw material that allows passage through the stars."
When we broke for lunch, I kept to my study. My mind was too cluttered; I felt dizzy. The sword allured me, as did the diamond. And those voices... and that spectral figure... they drove me crazy. I stood up in a flutter with the urge to scream, but all I could say was a garbled word that held no significance: caldfwlch.
Colin barged into my office with hysteric glee. He urged me to follow him into the arsenal where wonder and miracles lay. I asked for clarification.
"There is gold, Dr. Morgan! There is gold!" he roused.
Indeed. All of us gathered inside to witness the impossible. To consider what we saw as a miracle would be unjust. What transpired was indescribable. Floating and scattered around the vault were hundreds of hand-sized gold rings! They shimmered with a great flare that only our sun could produce. We all delicately walked through the swarm, enchanted by their awesome spectacle. I noticed as we walked passed them, they would instinctively move aside like they were conscious of our presence. I touched one—perfectly smooth. Colin flicked one, and it bounced off another like a helium balloon. They appeared benign and stable; remarkably innocent.
Suddenly, Julian rested his hand on my shoulder. "Miracles, Charles. Miracles."
We wrangled the rings together with a large fishing net and secured them in the back of the arsenal.
I approached before he could quietly recoil into his office. "I cannot explain what happened last night, but I believe those rings were the result of it. Lately, I have had this persistent feeling. I request that I be permitted to inspect the sword under the supervision of General Stripe and the assistance of Dr. Day."
Julian quietly nodded and locked himself in his office. He was vexed and deeply saddened by something. I too kept to my office for a brief while, crudely sketching the monster from my nightmares. Near the day's end, Colin slipped into my office.
"Do you need any further assistance, sir?" he asked.
At first, I shook my head, but just as he began to leave, a thought crept into my head. "Wait!" I yelled. "There is one thing."
"What is it, sir?"
"If the sword and the diamond both act as conduits into the hereafter, then perhaps the sword is the key, and the diamond is the door. Correct?" Colin seemed to agree. "Somehow, my brother's spirit discovered a means of traversing through this doorway into our ambit. Theoretically, if one spirit can travel through this doorway, then any number of spirits may seek passage. Correct?"
"In theory, yes."
"Even malevolent spirits."
"I do not follow, sir..."
"As you suggested, I was under a spiritual influence for a reason, however, not for my faults in the past, but perhaps for my faults in the forthcoming," I tried explaining. "I believe Jules is communicating with me through the sword. He is trying to warn me of something!"
In that instance, everything seemed so clear. This vague sensation of duty I felt was culminating in one final decision. A war is on the horizon, unlike any we will ever face. It is a war of worlds. There is no doubt things will worsen, and whether I choose to accept or decline this offer, I foresee imminent tragedy.
"You are aware of what happened last night?" I asked Colin.
"Yes, of course."
"And you are aware that our project may have been breached?"
"Partially, yes."
"Last night, I saw somebody circling the diamond," I hastily reviewed. "They probed it; they embraced it, and they spoke to it... and it spoke back. Right now we assume it was a spy, but I have a horrible feeling about all this. However, I may have a solution, but you must keep this between us. Do you understand?"
"I do."
"I trust you, Colin."
"I am here to help with whatever you need."
"Good man," I affirmed. "You will be with us to-morrow. I shall be inspecting the sword, which I hope will lend us the solution to our troubles."
Colin seemed apprehensive but faithful. Before leaving, he imparted one final thought. "I would suspect that if evil has shrouded over us, it seeks something one of us possesses... something that can be easily corruptible."
I knew what he drove at, yet I denied it all afternoon. Before I left, Dogge introduced me to someone from Stripe's elite company. The young man held the most striking blue eyes, and a thin beard and mustache. It was not hard to recognize his youthful craft, which mantled over his stoic effort. Probably twenty-eight, I wager... and held the impressive rank of Lieutenant Colonel. Nicholas Wernicke is his name. We exchanged formalities, and I hastily tried to leave, but Dogge seized my arm.
He leaned in, and said very calmly, "You are to rendezvous alongside General Stripe this evening at the intersection of New Jersey and M. Street."
"What for?" I asked.
"Just be there, Dr. Morgan."
Now I am alone in my tenement, beckoned by uncertainty. The time is ten o'clock. I conclude this entry with a strong affection for my misguided invention. Jules indeed died for it, and the desire to burn it was extraordinary, but I could not ignite the paper. Maybe a sort of paternal sentiment held me back, or perhaps a foolish sense of redemption. Whatever paused by course to do so held strong authority over my decision. No, I will not burn it. It shall reside safely in my breast pocket.