When Daniel was finished speaking, he sat down. Almost immediately three of the brothers got up from their chairs and came towards my end of the table. They stopped, one to my right, one to Anthony's right, and one to the older man's right. They gestured in unison, indicating that we should rise and accompany them.
I got up out of my chair and stepped away from the table. The brother who had stopped beside me began moving towards the door at the far end of the room. He took me back down the corridor, following the reverse of the route I had taken earlier. He stopped at the room I'd been in, opened the door, and ushered me inside.
I turned to ask him a question, but the he pulled the door closed as soon as I was inside. He hadn't spoken a word or so much as glanced back at me as we'd walked. I had the feeling, however, that he would have known immediately if I had tried to sneak away from him, even though he'd been walking ahead of me.
There was something odd about these hooded brothers. I couldn't quite put my finger on it yet, but something just felt… weird.
After the door closed, I heard a click. It was very much like the sound of a lock being turned. I frowned and stepped to the door. Sure enough, they'd locked me in this time.
This was a poor development.
I began to pace the room, wondering about so many things at once. Why did they leave the door unlocked before but locked it now? Why had they decided to tell us the things they'd told us at the breakfast ceremony? Why did they hide their faces? What had happened to Anthony? And where had the object come from that had struck Anthony's boss on the head?
I had a feeling that even the last two questions had something to do with this strange brotherhood among whom we now found ourselves. There was just something a little too convenient about the fact that we wound up here after our little altercation down by the harbour.
I stopped my pacing after a few minutes and sat down on the bed again. Almost immediately I heard the lock turn again, and the door opened. The brother who entered moved like Thomas, so I assumed it was Thomas.
"Thomas," I said.
He stiffened slightly, then shook his head. "I'm still not used to people being able to read my body language so well," he said.
I skipped the pleasantries and got straight to the point. "You know I have questions," I said.
Thomas nodded. "Yes. Of course you do. And I hope to be able to answer some of them now."
I leaned back a bit and furrowed my brow slightly. "Really. So what's changed? Why are you telling me things now?"
Thomas stepped towards me. "We know very little about you or your companions. We gathered that they are not friends of yours. In fact, we gathered that you bear a strong enmity towards them, and they towards you."
"And how did you gather that?" I asked, crossing my arms.
"We observed you."
I nodded. "You observed us. When?"
"When you first arrived here. We saw your interactions and made certain assumptions."
"Did you, now?"
"Indeed. And so we separated you from one another in an effort to determine what sorts of men you are."
I found my jaw tightening. The dispassionate manner in which he was describing this was causing my blood pressure to increase. "And how did that work out for you?" I asked with a sneer.
He paused for a moment. Whether he was thinking or taken aback by my manner, I couldn't be sure.
"We came to suspect that you are a more honorable man than the other two, but we couldn't be absolutely certain. So we decided to bring the three of you together so we could observe your interactions in an unfamiliar environment."
I snorted. "Right. So we're just a bunch of lab rats to you people."
He cocked his head slightly. "I'm unfamiliar with that phrase."
I shook my head. "Never mind. I'm just not accustomed to being the subject of experiments, that's all. If I'd wanted that, I could have stayed in my own world. Those other two fellows would have been only too happy to put me under the microscope."
He took another step towards me, his hands out from his sides. "You misunderstand. We do not wish to harm you. We merely seek to know if we can trust you."
"Trust me? With what?"
His arms returned to his sides, and he turned away from me. "Our society has reached a critical time in its history. We have made so much progress in the Arts, and yet we lack the wisdom to put our knowledge to good use."
The way he said "Arts" gave me pause. His voice sounded respectful, almost reverent. I doubted that he was talking about paintings and music.
"Arts?" I asked.
He turned back to me. "Yes. Is this a term that is unfamiliar to you?"
I shook my head. "No. I know the word. But the way you said it, I get the feeling that it means something quite different over here."
"What does it mean in your world?" he asked, stepping closer to me again.
"In my world," I said, "art is an expression of someone's inner feelings. It can come out via the written word, or through painting, sculpture, music… things like that. Anything creative."
He nodded. "We call such things soulworks," he said. "For us, the Arts is a group of disciplines that require a great deal of energy. Mental energy, I would call it. Others would call it spiritual energy."
"You mean things like creating portals to other worlds?"
"Only the most gifted can do such things. But other acts, such as conjuring a flame when no flammable materials are near to hand, or foretelling the future, or seeing another's thoughts… Things like that. Those are examples of the Arts."
He was talking about things that, in my world, would fall under the heading of "Paranormal".
Or "Magic".
I put my hand to my forehead. "The things you're describing… A lot of people have heard of similar things, but they're really rare. Some people deny their existence altogether."
His shoulders straightened slightly at that. "You don't have practioners of the Arts in your world?"
I laughed. "Well, we have a few people who claim to be, but most of them are… um… entertainers. The rest of them, well, most people consider them to be a little crazy."
He stepped back. "The Arts are… a form of entertainment?"
"Um… yeah. Sorry if that's offensive to you."
He shook his head. "Yours is another world. Of course there will be differences. It is just astonishing to hear that the Arts are regarded so differently there."
"One thing we do have in common," I said, "is what you said earlier. About having the skills to do these things but not the wisdom to the right things with them."
He nodded.
"On my world," I said, "We've made… um… different kinds of advances. Things I understand I can't talk about here. It has less to do with the mind and more to do with inventing machines and devices."
"Ah," he said. "I understand. And it's fine to talk about such things here. We're safe. The council cannot reach us here."
"So, I can talk about technology here?"
"Yes, we are not bound by the same strictures as society "out there". We know about technology, as you call it, and we are opposed to the government's supression of it. We cannot understand why they are so afraid of it."
"So, are you saying that technology exists in this world?"
"Yes. Only a very few have access to it. But it exists."
"Things like electricity?"
"I don't know that term."
"It… it powers things. It transfers energy to things like… lights and motors… through copper wires. So you don't need candles and gas lights, or gasoline, to make something work."
He nodded thoughtfully for a moment. "I have heard that there are lights that glow without flame. I have also heard of motors that run without fuel. I'd been skeptical, of course, but if what you are saying is true, then there must be such things."
"They're common where I come from."
He stood still for a moment, looking at the floor. "These are the things we want all people to have. We weren't even sure what exactly it was we were seeking. None of us has ever seen these things. But the idea of it, the concept of tools and devices that can make life easier, things that operate without the energy of the mind, we knew it was out there, and now you have confirmed it."
I watched him for a moment. Even though I couldn't see his face, I could tell he was processing a great deal. I began to wonder how this group of men could be so certain of the existence of something they had never seen.
And then I thought about my own world, and the people there who did the very same thing.
These guys really were really a religious order after all.
I had never thought of technology as a religion, but these guys had managed to make one of it. I tried to envision what kind of society would try to keep technology from its citizens. It was beyond my reckoning, and I decided not to even try and get my head around it.
My problems were fruitful and multiplying, and I needed to focus on getting the hell out of here.
Again.
"Did you throw the object that hit that other man in the head?" I asked.
Thomas' head rose to upright again. "Yes," he said. "We were nearby, as I said, observing you. Even then, we felt you were more trustworthy than the other two, so we decided to aid you. Again, we wished to see if you were as honorable as we suspected you are."
I was suddenly overcome with confusion. "I don't really think of myself as honorable," I said. "As a matter of fact, if you were ask some of the people back home who know me, they'd probably tell you that I'm pretty much an asshole."
Thomas laughed. "A what?"
I slumped a bit. This vocabulary thing was starting to weigh me down. "Not a very nice person," I said.
"I see."
Again he fell silent. I felt he was evaluating me again. And again, I had only body language to go by.
"Why do you keep your heads covered like that?" I asked him, trying to keep the exasperation out of my voice.
"We usually keep our hoods up when we go outside the enclave," he said, "but we also keep them up when we have visitors from outside. We do not wish to be identified."
I was surprised to discover something that actually made sense. Precious little else had managed to do so in the last few days, and I grabbed onto this nugget of logic like it was the last crust of bread I would ever see.
"You don't want anyone to report you to the government."
"Yes. Exactly."
"But if you have visitors…" My mind was spinning now, trying to keep the logic intact. "…wouldn't they be able to tell others where you're located?"
He shook his head. "Our enclave is not a place that anyone would simply stumble upon. It is well hidden, and little known. If someone from outside comes here, it is because we bring them here."
"Well, that's the only way someone would get here, then you have a choice as to whether or not you bring them here. Right?"
"Not always. Sometimes we come across sick or injured people in the countryside near our enclave, and we cannot simply turn our backs on them. We have to help them if we can. So we bring them here. And when they're better, we take them back to the countryside. They never see the outside of the enclave."
"There's something else I need to know," I said.
"And what is that?" he replied.
"I need to know if this is the same world I visited before. It feels to me like it is, but I'm still not certain. When I was here before, I was travelling for a short time on a train. Someone wearing a cloak very much like yours opened a bathroom door for me, and the next thing I knew, I was back in my own world again. So, despite your search for technology, you people would appear to have pretty potent mental or magical powers."
Thomas stiffened. "You saw one of our number on a train? Where was this?"
"It was heading from Halifax to… um… I suppose Truro, if that's what the town is called here."
Thomas turned away and walked a few steps towards the door. "Then it's as we feared."
I let out a breath. Not another wrinkle, I thought. Haven't we had enough wrinkles already?
"Don't tell me," I said. "You have a renegade who's practicing the Arts and is now out there opening portals and sending people God knows where."
Thomas turned back to me. "No. You misunderstand. We do practice the Arts here. Some of our brotherhood are very powerful Artisans indeed. But you are correct in that one of our brothers is out there, and we do not know what he is doing. He's been away from the enclave for three months now, and that is far longer than any of us has ever been gone before. We thought him dead, or captured. Obviously, he is far more canny than we imagined."
"So he's not a renegade?"
Thomas shook his head. "No. At least I don't believe so. I'm both relieved and troubled to hear that he is alive. I cannot begin to fathom why he would stay out there for so long without contacting us. It is unheard of."
"Was he one of the powerful ones?"
Thomas nodded. "One of the most powerful of all."
Well, that seemed to answer the question of whether or not I was visiting the same world as before. That knowledge was comforting, because at least I knew I'd have a frame of reference if I ever got out of the enclave. But at the same time, I was becoming confused.
Thomas and his brethren seemed to believe that the ruling council of the world was keeping the society from advancing technologically. Why that was, I couldn't begin to imagine. I had troubling imagining why some of the things on my own world happened, so thinking about a completely foreign world was beyond mind numbing. What really bothered me, however, was the fact that I had visited a man known as Councillor Greaves. It wasn't too much of a stretch to imagine that the title "Councillor" meant that he was part of the ruling council.
"Thomas," I said. "When I was here before, in this world, I was taken by a woman named Irene DiFalco to see a man named Greaves. Does that name—?"
"Greaves?" Thomas said, moving towards me with urgency in his step. "Councillor Greaves?"
I nodded.
"And was it he who took you on the train?"
"Yes. I'm not sure exactly where they were taking me—"
"To the mountains, I'm certain," he said. "I have no doubt that was their destination."
"The mountains?"
"In the mountains of Cape Breton, there is an academy. People like this Irene you mentioned, the adept ones, they're trained there. If they were taking you there…"
He began to pace. I sat there, watching him, wishing he'd hurry up and finish the sentence.
"What?" I asked at length. "If they were taking me there, what?"
"I am a fool," Thomas said, finally turning back to face me. "You told me you were here before, but I never asked you how you came to be here."
"Irene brought me," I said. I told him the story of my hospitalization and my subsequent Irene sightings.
"Then there is something about you," he said. "Something about you that they wanted to examine more closely."
"What?" I slid of the edge of the bed and stepped towards him. "What are you talking about? Greaves and Irene told me that they were visiting my world because of disturbances in the energy field. They told me that certain people on my world were trying to break through the barrier themselves, using devices instead of hocus pocus. People like those other two men who arrived here with me."
"You've been misled," Thomas replied. "It is Greaves and the council who are trying to reach other worlds. Perhaps these fellow travellers of yours are also involved in such endeavours, but if they were wise, they would use what they've learned to protect your world from Greaves and his fellows. They do not know the danger they face if the council's power should become any stronger."
"What? You mean those two are the good guys?"
Thomas shook his head. "I know nothing about them. All I mean to say is that I doubt they are the danger you believe them to be."
I pointed in the general direction of the dining hall. "But they—they kidnapped me. They locked me up. They were going to interrogate me and run tests on me. And then Irene made an archway into my cell. And Councillor Greaves took me in, fed me, gave me a place to sleep. And then your guy shoved me back into my own world. And then these guys found me again, and they were going to take me again, but this big black rectangle came down out of nowhere, and then were here again, and now Lydia's dead!"
I had grabbed him by the collar again and was now shaking him, the tears running down my face once more. I refused to believe that Anthony and his boss were anything but pure evil. They had killed Lydia. No, worse. They had cause me to kill Lydia. I would never forget that as long as I lived, and no amount of scarring or lost senses would ever be sufficient punishment for what Anthony did to me. He manipulated me into brutally killing someone that I loved, and I would see him in Hell itself before I would ever begin to see him in any other light but pure evil.
Thomas grabbed my wrists and pulled my fists from his cloak. He shoved me back against the bed and put a hand on my chest.
"Stop this," he said. "You are overwrought. You are not thinking clearly. I only tell you what I know. Nothing else."
I stared at him through watery eyes. The shape of his hood seemed to undulate as I blinked. He looked like the Spectre of Death itself.
"I don't care what you say," I gasped. "I'll never believe they're anything but evil."
