The Afflicted Ch. 10

"So, I had my goal. It was time for me to become cured."

"But why?" asked Jacob. "Why would you wish to be cured?"

"What I needed more than anything was knowledge. I could not learn from Afflicted scholars and one can only learn so much by attending night lectures at Universities. So, I began a slow exposure to the sun. Ten seconds the first, day, fifteen the next. Such agony, you can't imagine. After months of this, I finally achieved my goal and for the first time in my life I took a walk beneath the shining sun. Could I fly beneath that sunlit sky? No, but I could pass among mortals and learn from them."

"That is when my true studies began. I undertook mastering biology, anatomy, every science imaginable. I even studied briefly under the great Pasteur, who I understand will soon be in your ranks. My favorite discovery of all was the centrifuge. You have no idea how much can be learned from that amazingly simple device. The greatest thing I learned was this: The Affliction has two types of cells. One, is the actual Affliction, the other carries the gift itself."

"I don't exactly understand," said Jacob.

"Simply put, there are two types of cells; Afflicted Cells, and gift cells. What that means is I could take your blood, spin it, and extract the cells that give you that remarkable ability to turn yourself invisible, inject those cells into a normal human, and they would have the same talent. Of course, they might not know how to do it - but the potential would still be there for a few days. You see, I can certainly bite a mortal and bind them to me... but by biting them I also turn them into someone who is Afflicted at the same time. If I just use the gift cells, they are simply bound to me."

"In my case, it is quite simple. One injection and the gift I inherited from my father causes a mortal to identify with me and follow me blindly. The only disadvantage is that the effect does not last forever without the Afflicted host cells to reinforce it. The dosage must be renewed within the week. I have discovered how to synthesize this, or more accurately, to grow these cells in a laboratory so that I can continue increasing my army without draining myself dry to do so. Of course, the Holy See is simply happy that I am making progress toward conquering the Afflicted, they don't wish to know about my methods of inspiring such loyalty in the black guard."

"The Holy See?" said Jacob, curious. "What would the Vatican have to do with your plans?"

"You must understand, Jacob. The one thing I did not have was resources. If I had any hopes of completing my father's mission, I knew I could never accomplish it on my own. What better resource to turn to than the Afflicted's greatest enemy. No one wishes to wipe out your kind more than the Catholic Church. "

"That seems a bit counter-productive," argued Jacob. "Where's the logic in allowing them to destroy us? I thought you wanted conquest, not destruction."

"Let me lay it out for you more plainly, Jacob," said Arnet. "A bit over a decade ago, I walked into the Vatican with an absurd amount of knowledge about the Afflicted. Of course, they didn't trust me, so I submitted to their test of sunlight, which I pass with flying colors. Once I had them in my confidence, I began to build my forces and my people follow me blindly and unquestioningly. I began to capture members of the Afflicted. The church gave me more resources, more money, more people. I now have a force numbering in the thousands ready to move in. There is only one thing the Vatican doesn't know. They don't know that I will soon retreat once again from sunlight. My gifts will return. My blood will reach full strength again and with my superior knowledge, I will be able to produce great quantities of both my Gift Cells, and my Afflicted Cells."

To illustrate, Arnet held up a dart which was essentially a syringe with feathers attached.

"In here, are my cultured gift cells," said Arnet. "I could shoot you with it right now and you would be bound to me, but only for a few days. What is lacking are my Afflicted Cells which would actually make you part of my brood. To date, I have not bound another member of your kind to me because they might be captured and trigger the alarm of the Council.

Yet, once I retreat from the sun, I will create both types of cells. When the Black Guard goes on the attack against the Afflicted, they won't, in fact, be merely giving them God's Gift - as they call it. They will be making each and every member of the Afflicted my bloodmate - my slave. Each dart will have a mixture of both cells."

"I can safely tell you that by the end of the year, the entire domain of Afflicted will belong to me. From there, I will have the resources to build enough serum to captivate the rest of the world with the serum. I shall own the night and the day. Every person in the world will do my bidding."

"I don't foresee that happening," said Jacob. "They defeated your father, they'll defeat you. Frederique and her children will make sure of that."

Jacob suddenly turned pale from shock.

"What was that you said?"

"Nothing," said Jacob through gritted teeth.

"I had heard the rumors. The official story was that Frederique had perished, but there were countless whispers that she was merely in hiding. Now you tell me she has children as well? Oh, how wonderful it will be to see her, bound by her hands and feet as I make her children my slaves."

"You won't touch them," growled Jacob.

"Them?" said Arnet with a wicked smile. "Can I infer that you have lain with Frederique's daughter? Could it be you have feelings for such a girl? I can see by your reaction that you have. Ooh, I can imagine the whisperings in The Council: 'Frederique's daughter and a boy who can turn invisible? Imagine those two gifts combined.' Would they even let such a union occur? Now this is simply wonderful."

Arnet was practically clapping his hands with glee.

"Oh my dear boy," said the tiny man. "Little did I know you would bring such joyous news. I had thought to kill you this day - but I may save you a bit longer. What other information can I get from you?"

"Nothing," spat Jacob.

"Oh, you say that now. What will you say when you've felt the sun's rays for the first time on your skin?"

Jacob's eyes couldn't help but flare in fear at Arnet's suggestion. Twice already, Arnet had opened a hole in the ceiling and threatened him. Mortals had their bogeymen and monsters to scare children, the Afflicted had the sun - and with good reason. From an early age, the fear of the sun was ingrained deeply into their consciousness. As Arnet had stated, it took him months to become ready for the sun. Full exposure to the sun for more than a few seconds was fatal to one of Jacob's kind.

Arnet grinned and looked to the ceiling.

"There's a reason this room is on the top floor of the building," said the son of the Weasel. "I could build prisms and mirrors - but the effect is diluted as the light travels. No, I prefer my victims to be as close to the source as they can. Jacob, please do tell me the names of Frederique's children."

"No!" cried Jacob.

He rued the day he had learned the truth of the matter. Abby had already known, and Aimée had let it slip one day. He had of course been bound to silence and he cursed himself for his slip, thereby endangering his dearest friend and his closest lover.

"But you will!" cried Arnet.

There was no dramatic build-up, no teasing this time. Arnet simply pulled a lever and a square of light was suddenly flashing across Jacob's barely-healed back. Jacob would have taken a cat-of-nine-tails... a cat-of-billion-tales over the agony he felt at that moment.

Arnet watched in satisfied fascination as Jacob's skin began to boil beneath the surface. His Affliction was both dying and retreating. Ripple after ripple surged as his skin grew darker from the blood rushing to the skin as it might with a blister. Arnet was a practiced hand with the sun, and knew from the tone of Jacob's cries just when to shut the skylight.

He waited until Jacob's sobs had subsided a bit, then moved his mouth close to Jacob's ear.

"Their names, Jacob," he said in a sinister whisper. "Tell me their names."

Jacob lifted his head as if to speak, then spat squarely into Arnet's eye.

"You are resilient, if nothing else. Let's try this again."

Arnet was just reaching for the handle when a sudden 'pop' could be heard in the room.

"How remarkable," said Arnet.

With surprising rapidity, the little man moved his hand over to another lever, and with a quick pull, a trap door opened into the floor and he disappeared.

Jacob could just make out four figures from his peripheral vision. Two popped out of sight just as rapidly.

"I've got the Obscuring mechanism!" said a man's voice with an English accent.

"I'll start on the restraints," said a woman's voice.

"Who's there?" called Jacob.

"It's Bullet," said a woman's voice beside him. How are you tied in here?"

"They weren't messing around," said Jacob. "There are locks underneath."

"Damn," muttered Bullet. "Brolly, how're you with locks?"

"Not as good as Seetha," he said. "Obscurers are off, but I don't know for how long. I'll go get her. If I can't get back, send Abby and Aimée to room 5."

"Got it," said Bullet.

There were two simultaneous pops. Brolly's was more of a click, but the sound of others arriving brought Jacob more comfort.

"Situation?" roared the gruff voice of Scaurus.

There was another pop of departure.

"All quiet," said Bullet, "But the boy is locked in securely and the table is immovable. It also looks to be rigged with dynamite at the joint, so we wouldn't be wise to pry it. Brolly's gone to fetch Seetha, the lock picker. She'll be our best hope."

"Damn," said Scaurus, "I was hoping this would be a quick in and out. I don't trust how quiet this is. Spartan formation, everyone, around the table."

Pop, another arrival, more voices.

Pop, this time it was Brolly with the lock picker he had spoken of.

Jacob felt the comforting hand of a woman on his back and heard a soothing voice in his ear.

"Don't worry, Jacob," said a voice in a lilting foreign accent. "My name is Seetha and I'll only need a minute or two to get you out."

Pop, one final arrival. Turning his head one way and the other, Jacob could only see backs facing him, each of them holding up shields that formed a sort of wall around him.

"Dynamite detached," said the voice belonging to Seetha. "I need a deplaceur to get it out of here."

"I'm on it," said Brolly's voice.

He popped out, and surprisingly, did not return immediately.

"Obscuring is back on," murmured Bullet, looking at the walls.

"Damn it," muttered Scaurus. "Seetha, how long?"

"Two more minutes, at least. Damned good locks, these."

"Brace yourselves everyone," said Scaurus. "Day gear stays in place. Cover the lad!"

A dark piece of oil-cloth was thrown entirely over him, and just in time. The entire skylight was thrown. They squinted through their smoked goggles as their eyes became used to the light.

Jacob felt a tender hand on his leg. He didn't need to see her to know who it was.

"You're hurt," said Abby's voice in his head.

"Not badly," he thought back.

"Yes, badly," she admonished him. "I've never seen sun-scar before. Your body is almost in shock."

"I'm fine, Abby."

He could feel her reaching out, starting to heal him.

"Don't waste your energy now," said Jacob. "Help them. You can fix me up later."

They weren't able to converse any further, however, because the room was suddenly alight. The people gathered round Jacob braced themselves.

There was obviously a speaking tube somewhere in the room, and Arnet's voice taunted them from above.

"Do you like my locks, my long lost brethren?" he said gleefully. "They are of my own design, modified from the work of Christophe the clockmaker himself."

Jacob heard a woman's voice curse quietly to his side. He instantly knew it was Frederique.

"Gently, dear," said a man's voice, who he could only assume was Claude's father.

"You might have rid yourself of the explosives, but you will soon pay dearly. Any wagers on how many will survive?"

"I'll say, all of us make it through," said Scaurus, "Let's wager twenty dollars, I'll meet you at the West Docks tonight for payment."

"What a fascinating accent," said Arnet. "The only other time I've heard one like it is when I happened across a fellow named Rutuba. He was quite the quarry. If he hadn't had such a weakness for wine, he might still be alive."

"You'll die for that," murmured Scaurus.

"One lock down," whispered Seetha. "Two more."

"There's a score of people gathering outside the room," said Abby's voice in all of their heads. "They are... odd. They are focused on this Arnet in a curious way. They worship him."

"I don't care about who they worship," said Scaurus. "What about their weapons? What are they carrying?"

"Guns," said Abby. "Crossbows with darts filled with God's Strength, whatever that is."

"Two down," said Seetha. "This last one shouldn't take too long."

Jacob wanted desperately to reach out to tell Abby about Arnet, but she was too focused externally.

"Ready," said Scaurus. "We'll need to spread around the room and present many targets."

"No," said Abby. "Everyone, please, stay here, I can buy us a bit more time. They're coming!"

Two doors burst open and a rush of Arnet's followers burst into the room with weapons drawn. Surprisingly though, they didn't fire. Instead, they stopped and lowered their weapons - staring fearfully at the table surrounded by the Afflicted."

"What are you waiting for?" cried Arnet through the speaking tube. "Shoot! Destroy them! "

"We're fearful of hitting you," said a large muscular man in the lead.

"How would you hit me," called Arnet's now shrill voice through the speaking-tube.

"We don't know how they captured you, but they did!" cried one of the women in the group. "Oh Master, they truly are pure evil that they could magic you into the place where that boy was."

There was a silence as Arnet processed this.

"Idiots," he cried. "Weak-minded idiots! I didn't think I'd have to do this by myself."

"What's happening?" asked Scaurus.

"It's Abby," whispered Palo who was standing near the front of the group. "The girl has clouded their minds."

Abby herself was not speaking due to the intense concentration it took to place the full illusion into every mind of the enemy.

"How is it coming, Seetha?" asked Frederique.

"Nearly there," panted the desperate woman.

"Now you will pay!" cried Arnet's voice.

He rushed into the room with a huge gun which had at least fifty narrow barrels.

His followers looked to him confused, having been certain he was being held hostage by the group around the torture table.

Arnet pointed the gun toward the ceiling and pulled a trigger. Dozens of darts flew out of the device. They did not fly true, however, but went whizzing about in haphazard fashion. Many of them found the walls or ceiling for their target, but just as many went whizzing in curling paths toward the group.

"Now!" cried Seetha at the exact same moment.

The metal restraints broke free and the deplaceurs grabbed their charges.

Just as the darts thunked into shields and cloaks, the entire group disappeared accompanied by the angry howl of Arnet.

* * * *

The receiving chamber was one of the most feared places in all of Below. The walls were lined with arrow-slots and the ceiling was lined with nets. If there were the slightest sign of compromise, the nets would be sprung - or worse. Beyond the walls of the chamber, countless weapons were drawn at the huge pop of fourteen people arriving where before there had been none.

"Hold!" cried Scaurus. "Restrain me first, I've been hit!"

A curious lasso descended from the ceiling and wrapped itself quickly around the Scaurus.

"As have I!" cried Colette, who had been brought along on the mission because of her expertise in close combat as well as her medical skills.

Another tether shot out to restrain her.

"Enough," cried Frederique. "Everyone move away from each other. We will all be restrained until we can be evaluated.

Everyone did as ordered and nets and ropes descended. Once they were all secure, Galen and a full complement of guards entered the chamber.

"Tell us what happened," said Galen.

Several people started speaking at once, but it was Jacob's voice that cut through the crowd.

"Let me speak with him!" he called. "Let me explain and we'll be able to settle things more quickly.

Galen and Jacob were taken to a far corner of the room and in muted tones Jacob explained all he had heard from Arnet.

Galen retrieved one of the darts, which had stuck in a shield.

"Ingenious," he said quietly.

The dart was a small glass vial tipped with a needle like the one Jacob had been show. However, with this one, the fletchings were curved and there was one missing. It was a variation on an old archer's trick. Remove one or two of the feathers and one could shoot an arrow round corners. Arnet's needle gun had taken that concept to the extreme. The goal was for the darts to hit something, and if they flew haphazardly, they would prove impossible to block.

Galen turned to examine the contents of the vial. His mind reached into the contents and evaluated it carefully.

"By god, this is a brilliant man," muttered Galen. "To work on his own and decipher so many mysteries - it's a shame he wasn't with us."

"Unloose me!" cried Scaurus. "I'm fine, and I have a great deal to attend to."

"You'll do no such thing!" cried Galen. "No one is to be freed until I have the chance to examine them."

Galen crossed to Scaurus and put a hand on the warrior's arm. Looking deeply, he breathed a frustrated sigh.

"This will take a while," he said. "This serum the man has devised is fearfully deceptive. It's as though he knew of the tests I'd devised and worked on ways around them. It's going to take hours per person to truly tell."

"It's not so hard for me," said Abby from where she was tied. "I can feel it. Scaurus is definitely infected..."

"Muzzle the girl," shouted Scaurus. "How do you know she isn't the one infected? She was able to fool an entire room of mortals. Who is to say she's not doing the same here?"

"Gag him," said Galen.

Two guards reluctantly did as they were ordered, finding it very difficult to do such a thing to the most respected commander among all of the Afflicted.

"Inspect me first," said Abby. "Have Madame Villepreux-Power sent for as well, between the two of you, you should be able to discover if I am tainted or not. If you find I am trustworthy, I can move things along much more quickly.

Madame Villepreux-Power soon arrived and between herself and Galen, they were able to determine that there was no foreign impurity in the young empath's blood. Once she was cleared, Abby began reaching out and examining the other people.

For Abby, it was both child's play, and a fascinating game of psychological chess. If someone had been hit, their primary thought was of Arnet. Yet, these were intelligent people and they knew she would be looking for that sort of thought. Those hit by the serum did their best to think of something else yet their thoughts kept returning to the small man. Like the old game of not thinking of a white tiger, those who were compromised kept returning to Arnet in their thoughts. After a few minutes, Abby called out: