I felt my entire body sag as I pulled out the chair and sat down. I didn't know how I was even going to be able to eat, with these two sitting next to me.
I looked at Anthony's shattered face again. "What the hell happened to you?" I asked.
Anthony looked up from his breakfast, fixed me with a baleful glare, and immediately returned to eating.
"I don't think anyone's really sure what happened to him," the older man said. "Something happened when you hurled yourself at him, but I have no idea what that was."
I frowned at him. "When I jumped him?"
He nodded.
"That doesn't make any sense," I said.
"No, it doesn't," he replied.
A hooded figure placed a plate of what looked like potato pancakes in front of me.
"Thank you," I said, glancing up at the hidden face.
I picked up the fork at my place and began eating. The pancakes were quite tasty, but they weren't made from potatos. I couldn't quite place the flavor, but it was pleasant.
The older man put a hand to the bandage on the side of his head.
"No permanent damage, I take it?" I said.
He shook his head. "I'll recover," he said.
I gave my head a quick shake. "Damn," I said. "Too bad."
His eyes darted sharply in my direction, but he recovered with a slight smile. "Never one to pass up an opportunity for a witticism, eh, Mister Richmond? Well, such as it was, anyway. They can't all be prize winners."
"You're a real piece of work, you know that?"
He took a bite of his breakfast and chuckled. "You know," he said, "that is one of the most ambiguous, noncomittal phrases I've ever come across. I wish people would just say what's on their minds."
"Would you rather I called you a selfish, lying, bastard?"
He dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin. "Well, let's see. My parentage is not in question, so you can scratch the last part. I do lie from time to time, but that's usually in the interests of my work. And selfish? Well, no, I don't think so. And I don't see how my interactions with you so far could even lead to that word." He looked at me with a smug smile. "So you can call me a liar if you want, but I have to take exception to the other two."
"Nothing ruffles you, does it?" I asked.
"Very little ruffles me. You don't do the kind of work I do without developing a thick skin with an undercoat of cynicism."
"You're not even concerned about where we are, are you?"
He pursed his lips and shrugged. "Something got us here. Something else will get us back. It's just a matter of patience. In the meantime, this little eventuality might just further my research."
"Research?"
"Mmmm." He nodded.
"You're a scientist?"
"No," he said with a laugh. "No, not a scientist. More like a…" He trailed off for moment, thinking. "…a gardener."
"A gardener?"
"Yes. I arrange certain elements, set them in motion, and then step back to observe the results. If I don't like what I see, I make changes."
"And you thought my statement was ambiguous."
"Yes, but there's a difference. You were using a clumsy phrase because it was convenient. I'm ambigous because I have to be."
I took another bite of my potato like pancakes. "I don't understand why you're even talking to me."
"Oh, now, Mister Richmond, I can be as civilized as the next man. Like I said to you before, none of this is personal. I'm just doing my job. That's all."
A presence at my elbow aborted any retort I might have made. I looked up to find another cloaked figure standing next to my chair.
"There will be a brief morning ceremony in a moment," he said. I recognized Thomas' voice. "I will have to ask you to finish your breakfast and your conversation, if you would."
I nodded and took the last couple of bites of my meal. My partner in conversation did the same. Anthony had finished his minutes before us and was now staring at me again. It was as if he wanted to memorize every detail of my face so that he would be able to find me and kill me.
The notion was as uncomfortable to me as the stare.
Another cloaked figure took our plates away, and a moment later the cloaked figure at the head of the table stood up.
"Brothers," he said, "our morning begins differently today. The same sun has risen, the same walls surround us, and the same nourishment fills our stomachs. But we are joined today by three men who are strangers to us. Strangers to our world. We know not where they come from, but we are truly honored that they have come to us."
The voice was Daniel's. I had suspected he was the leader of this gang.
"Please join me in greeting them," he added.
The two dozen or so men in cloaks turned as one to face us, and they bowed their heads forward. That part I liked. No fuss. Just a nice nod to say hello.
Neither Daniel nor Thomas had said anything to us yet that smacked of religion or mysticism, but I was still getting seriously creeped out by the solemnity of it all. None of them took their hoods down, not even to eat, and the simple meal and the uniform dress code made me think of nothing but an order of austere monks, living as simple a life as possible in order to honor their god.
Without warning, my brain treated me to an image of these men, walking single file, chanting in Latin, and hitting themselves on their foreheads with wooden boards. It afforded me a moment of pleasure in an otherwise bizarre and confusing situation.
"We know, brothers," Daniel continued, "that the ruling council of this world seeks to travel to other worlds, to other dimensions of reality. To that end, they have used all manner of sorcery in an attempt to create doorways that breach the fabric of space. These men sitting here are evidence that these were no mere attempts, but rather successes. These men are victims of an insidious plan by our rulers, a plan that would not only steal resources from other worlds, but in so doing cause instability in the very fabric of space itself."
A murmur of concern rose up from the assembled brothers.
The self proclaimed gardener leaned towards me. "This was worth the price of admission," he whispered.
