.3.
Dixon and Oz were led by Lt. Gervaise through a number of identical passages, to a dining room that looked out under the tail of the airship. The room was white on white, designed in an Arabesque style. A long table set with crystal plates and glasses and silver utensils filled the rectangular room. The only color in the room were Chinese vases filled with red roses. At the head of the table, seated in front of a huge circular window in a white wicker chair, was a man of undeterminable age. His long hair was white, and a white beard tapered to point over his chest. But his flesh was youthful, and eyes of icy crystal blue snared anything that fell across their gaze. His loose-fitting robe was open-chested and also white.
“David Lafayette?” Dixon said.
There were two empty seats – to Lafayette’s right and left.
“Welcome, Mr. Dixon,” Lafayette said, “And your friend as well. Come, be seated, and share our meal. I have eagerly awaited your arrival.”
Dixon and Oz separated, and walked up the length of the table, passing the members of Lafayette’s inner circle. Dixon was seated on Lafayette’s right, and Oz on his left. Dixon sniffed – the aroma of roses was very strong.
“Rosy fingered dawn?” he said.
“Very good, Mr. Dixon,” Lafayette said, “The detective to the end.”
“What’s for lunch?” Oz said, poking at his dish.
“Portobello mushroom, stuffed artichoke, and braised vegetables,” said Lafayette, “And sparkling seltzer.”
“No good American beer?” said Oz, raising his fork to his mouth.
“No alcohol of any kind, Mr. Tuttle. Or shall I call you Oz?”
“My friends call me Oz. ‘Mr. Tuttle’ is fine.”
“As you wish,” Lafayette gestured to the man seated beside Oz. “Let me introduce you both to - ”
“Archibald Cadmus?” Dixon said.
The man looked up from his plate. He was in his late sixties, his hair silver and gray, sporting a handlebar mustache and goatee, dressed all in tweed. “That’s right,” he said, “And you are?”
Lafayette laughed.
“He lives in his own world,” he said, “This is none other than Carter Dixon.”
“Oh,” Cadmus said distractedly, “Dean Fleming would be pleased to meet you.”
“He was,” Dixon replied, “Your niece, Ann Cale, contracted me to find you. Your family believes you’re dead.”
“An unfortunate, but necessary, part of the present undertaking,” Cadmus sighed.
“Which is?”
“Mr. Dixon, haven’t you figured it out yet?” said Lafayette.
“I’m still putting the pieces together. Why don’t you help me out?”
“Mind if I smoke?” Oz asked, removing a silver cigarette case from his jacket pocket.
“I do, in fact,” Lafayette said, anger seeping into his voice, “But I won’t stop you from doing so, if you insist.”
Oz carefully selected a cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag, producing a thick cloud of smoke that lingered in front of Lafayette.
“Enjoy your smoke, Mr. Tuttle.”
“You were saying – about the present undertaking?”
“Yes, Mr. Dixon. I’m quite surprised you haven’t deduced it yet. But since I require your cooperation, I shall help you ‘put the pieces together’, as you say. You are, I take it, familiar with the Nine Unknown Men?”
“Pure fantasy!” Dixon remarked.
“Yet H.G. Wells writes of it as fact in his Outline of History,” countered Lafayette.
“Sounds like a baseball team, Dix,” Oz joked.
Dixon grinned. “According to legend, Ashoka, a sort of Arthurian figure from Indian prehistory, horrified by the violence of war, appointed nine men to collect all that was known of science, record it in nine books, and protect that knowledge with their lives. To keep it from falling into the wrong hands.”
“Well told, Mr. Dixon! Brother Cadmus, perhaps you could further illuminate Mr. Tuttle.”
Cadmus paused, fork halfway raised, and thought.
“Well, the nine volumes each compiled the accumulated knowledge of a particular subject. Volume One was devoted to ‘Physiology’, the perfection of the body, to the point of killing a man with a single, deadly touch. Volume Two consisted of the ancient’s knowledge of biology, the cures to all known diseases, the creation of synthetic men, even instructions on how to resurrect the dead. Volume Three covered ‘Alchemy’, including the transmutation of metals, lead into gold for example. But any transformation would be possible with that knowledge.
“Volume Four focuses on ‘Communication’, transferring thoughts from one mind to another, even communicating with beings not of this universe. Volume Five, a treatise on ‘Gravitation’, millennia before the birth of Newton! Including the invention of anti-gravity vehicles. Volume Six contains the instructions necessary to build a ‘Vimana’, vehicles described in the Ramayana and Mahabharata, so advanced as to make this zeppelin seem rather quaint in comparison!
“Volume Seven concerns itself with ‘Cosmology’, traversing the spaces between worlds, visiting invisible universes. Volume Eight is dedicated to ‘Light’, the construction of advanced beam weapons, of the kind that destroyed Atlantis. And Volume Nine, the most important: ‘Society’, describing the making and destruction of world tyrants, and the manipulations of mass populations through untapped powers of perception and ‘invisible’ propaganda.”
“Well done, Brother Cadmus!” Lafayette said.
Cadmus smiled like a little boy who had just won a spelling bee.
“The Samara Sutradhara is no more than a reduction of Volume Four, I believe,” Cadmus added, “But that remains to be seen.”
“And what does all this have to do with you?” Dixon asked Lafayette.
“With the help of Brother Cadmus, I have reclaimed all nine of the lost books.”
“Bull****,” Dixon sneered.
“I shall show them to you,” replied Lafayette, “They’re quite authentic, I assure you.”
“I don’t understand what you need me for,” Dixon said. “Or what this airborne picnic is all about.”
“But tell me something first,” Lafayette said, “What put you on my trail?”
“I checked every local bookmaker I could find,” Dixon said, “Cadmus has never placed a bet in his life.”
Cadmus laughed. “Quite true!”
“It was a front,” Dixon continued, “To throw his friends and family off the scent. He was giving every dime he earned to someone. Cadmus is no rich man, so I figured a lot of other people were forking their paychecks over to the same person. Knowing of Cadmus’s interest in alternative religion, they were probably donations to a cult. Your little outfit fit the bill perfectly.”
“Bravo, Mr. Dixon,” Lafayette said, “You’re reputation is well founded.”
“Your turn.”
“It’s not that complicated,” Lafayette replied, leaning back, “He who unlocks the secrets of the Nine Books can conquer the world.”
“But weren’t they guarded by these Nine anonymous fellows?” asked Oz.
“A legend. In reality, there is no need for it,” Lafayette said, “The books are written in a cipher. Without the Rosetta stone, the key to the cipher, their knowledge will remain lost forever. Only the cipher is guarded - I suspect.”
“That’s what you need Cadmus for,” Dixon said, “To crack the cipher?”
“As soon as we have the Rosetta stone in our hands, yes.”
“And then what? Build an army of these Vimana machines? Who’s gonna finance that?”
“Nothing so prosaic,” Lafayette answered, “I will give the secrets away, and let the governments and powers of the world use them against each other. Another world conflict will erupt, a thousand times more destructive than the last. And from the ashes of the old world, the new order will rise – my order. God’s order.”
“And where’s ‘God’ gonna live while the world falls apart?”
“All in good time, Mr. Dixon.”
“You’re outta your godammed mind,” Dixon said.
Oz pushed his plate away.
Lafayette said, “What’s the matter, Mr. Tuttle?”
“Lost my appetite.”
“And where do I fit into all this?” Dixon asked. “First you’re trying to kill me, then you’re rolling out the red carpet.”
“I was not attempting to kill you, Mr. Dixon.”
“Coulda fooled me!”
Lafayette crossed his arms. “Those were tests. I had to be sure.”
“Sure of what?”
“That you are truly worthy. Oh, I have long awaited your coming,” Lafayette said, “You will be my High Priest, in the new world.”
“Not for all the tea in China, pal!”
Oz clapped his hands, “Huzzah, Dix! Huzzah!”
Lafayette shook his head and said very calmly, “By the end of this expedition, you will change your mind.”
“You’re awful sure of yourself.”
“I have seen the future, Mr. Dixon. It cannot be changed.”
“What if I escape? Come back and blow this balloon to pieces?”
“You could easily escape, Mr. Dixon. But you won’t.”
“Is that right?”
“You believe that you can stop me. That is why you will join the expedition, of your own free will. And by your own free will, you will become my servant.”
“I’ve heard that line before!”
“Not from me, Mr. Dixon.”
“I don’t see how you’re any different from any other megalomania creep I’ve put six feet under.”
“You haven’t wondered how I tricked the coroner, Mrs. Cale, everyone, into believing that I was the corpse of Brother Cadmus?"
Dixon snorted. “It was a nice
trick.”
“I have already unlocked many of the secrets lost to the world,” Lafayette said, turning his head very slowly toward Oz, “I can mesmerize the weak-minded without a word. With my gaze alone, make them see what I want them to see, believe what I want them to believe –
do what I want them to
do.”
Oz lit a fresh cigarette, and nonchalantly, lifted it towards his eye –
Dixon jumped up and knocked the cigarette out of Oz’s hand.
“Stop it!”
Lafayette laughed, cold and cruel.
“I said let him go!”
The eyes looked away, and Oz jerked forward, blinking like man just woken from a drugged slumber.
“You will join me, Mr. Dixon. In the end, you will do just as I command.”
