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Beyond Tomorrow
Chapter 21: The Face of the Spirit

Chapter 21: The Face of the Spirit

Stinking of smoke and generally under a blue cloud, we all made our way to our hotel. We did not go up to the tiny room we shared, but to the saloon conveniently located in the lobby.

Had I been in better spirits, I might have taken more note of the many exotic alcohols served from far corners of Selenium's vast empire. None of us had much taste for anything new or diverting, since the strain of war and the sight of death are enough to take the wind from any man's sails. I believe we all sat at the long brass-fitted bar and quietly drank whatever cheap rum was offered.

While none of us had all that much to say, we were not long to sit in silence.

A crew of four rocketmen entered the bar, ordered a pitcher, and took a table behind us. They'd been talking when they came in and the conversation continued with much animation:

“There won't hardly be a way to get him in the air again after this! I tell you he is done, and that may be for his own good.”

“It is hardly the first time a man cracked under the strain of battle, my friend. The punishment we have been taking is hardly natural!”

“I ask you, though, have you ever encountered such ravings as Klonax was uttering? Never have I heard him say anything like that before. Hell, I've never heard anyone ever rave that way before.”

“It's a shame is what it is! He's nearly killed himself up there and over some hallucination.”

“Just last night everything was fine! He was right and sane as the rest of us, we went to that show and...”

“...and today we are down a man.”

“It sent chills up my spine, to hear him rave about the ghostly face coming out of the clouds towards him. Malignant vapors...”

Someone at the door to the street suddenly shouted “How did you hear about that?”

We all turned and saw a green man in a tattered flight uniform looking sternly at the four rocketmen at the table.

“Hear about what, sir?” asked the captain. “We were speaking of Klonax, our shipmate who went mad in the fighting today. Does it concern you?”

The green man at the door dropped his eyes. “I apologize. But you see, two men in my crew raved about seeing the same thing as we flew yesterday.”

The captain shook his head gravely “What goes on these days that three men crack up at the sight of the same ghostly face?”

“Maybe,” the bar tender said. “Maybe there is a real ghost up there someplace?”

I shuddered then, deep now in thoughts of death and awful spirits to drive the living mad.

Tando grabbed my hand then “Hey, what's this on you?”

I looked down at my left hand and saw it coated in a white substance, as solid and close-fitting as a glove “What now?”

Xato held up his finger and the white stood out even more boldly on his red skin “It's the chemical from the cylinder, remember? The icy jets of the rescue crew turned it solid!”

In the lobby we met Klyp who invited us all up to his suite, and by then we craved distraction enough to join him.

His room did prove to have a better view, partly helped by the fact that it was on the 20th floor. What surprised me was that it was not much of an improvement over our room otherwise. Where our small room was a circle with a washroom off if it, Klyp's suite was a slightly larger ring, with a broad column in the center with a couch circling it, probably 8 feet wide and enough to hide behind. A wider couch ran round the outside wall to sleep on, although there was nothing like a real bed to be seen.

“It is a little silly,” Klyp admitted. “You see there are these panels on the wall that look like they'd be just dandy to hide a bed behind, but it's only a tease. What do you suppose they're for anyway”

Xato took off his gloves “Why do you keep it so hot up here anyway?”

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Klyp shrugged “Open the window, if you like, I'm always too cold.”

“Coming right up!” Tsang shouted. He didn't look before leaping, though, for he crashed into me and I managed to drop the cylinder, which I'd forgotten about all over again.

Again, the clear chemical splattered out the end of the mechanism and made a puddle on the carpet.

I picked it back up “I'm so sorry!”

Klyp only laughed “Don't think of it, I'll just have the man at the desk bring up a mop.”

“I stubbed my toe!” Tsang whined and dropped down on the couch.

“Oh!” Klyp ran for one of his bags. “I've got to get started on my makeup soon. I was barely finished with it when I got on stage last night.”

Tando watched with interest while Klyp began to dress “Was Grothol very upset with you about the delay?”

“Strangely so!” Klyp said, applying face-paint in a small mirror. “The weirdest part is that he has hardly spoken to me since I've been here. Usually he relaxes after a performance and we can talk a bit, but not this time!”

I said “I suppose magicians are temperamental?”

“Mmm. Well, Grothol is that, but this was still very unlike him. He never removed his mask.”

We had some time before the show, so we went for dinner with Klyp, who went around painted up like an Indian chief, complete with headdress! He said he always went out in costume before a show since it seemed to drum up attention. We had a wonderful meal in the restaurant at the Riddance Tower. Klyp had to leave us partway through to head up to the Golden Bat to get ready.

Before the show, Tsang dragged us all to a museum in the next tower over.

Although we did not stay very long, I was fascinated to see the prehistorical exhibits, both for Earth and for other planets. In one display it showed wax figures of elvish aliens shaking hands with humans in the garb of Aztecs.

“They came that early to Earth?” I asked.

“Earlier,” said Tando. “But they didn't find humans advanced enough before. These people are said to have already been reaching to the stars. Before we came to them they were at work on ships and on radio telescopes.”

“I guess they really must have been something before the Spaniards came along.”

“Who knows? So much is lost to history. Much of what we know is in the form of myths.”

We paced beside skeletons, many of which I did not recognize “What kind of myths?”

“Well, many say that the people from Selenium traveled far in space millions of years ago, but the journeys could take decades, centuries. Our ancestors were nearly immortal, so they didn't mind. When they found Earth and its people they found themselves enamored. Many an elf from our star fell in love with many a human, but it ended bitterly since most humans did not live much more than 60 or 70 years. We found your race fragile. Such was the feeling of wanting to protect and preserve you, that a leap forward was made in space travel and gravity itself was conquered. Journeys across the galaxy were suddenly possible days or weeks.”

“You're kidding?” I said. “But how does a thing like that work...”

Tsang grabbed ahold of both of us “Enough chatter, you two, we need to get to the Golden Bat, it's almost time!”

The curtain went up on a glamorous chamber where perhaps a hundred spectators waited at tables. Everything started off with music and pageantry, dancers undulated until Klyp descended from the ceiling on wires. He looked so strange and wonderful, like a pale Sitting Bull reborn.

In fact, I was getting caught up in all the music and the dancing and the color, when it came to an abrupt end with a sound like a tuba.

A black wave spread over the stage like a spilled inkpot and the dancers vanished.

In the center of the stage stood a masked figure in a cloak and helmet. For some reason I couldn't fathom then, I felt an intolerable chill down my spine.

“The power of the mind...” Grothol's voice cut through the silence like the cracking of ice. “The power to move mountains, to achieve the impossible. The power of wonder and dreams realized.”

As he spoke he floated in the air, off the stage, the stage which began to light up below him. A blood red carpet covered the surface fully 6 feet below his boots. In a puff of smoke, Klyp appeared beside him and then in a flash a platform materialized under them.

I'd seen some stage trickery in my day, but this already put all of it to shame.

Grothol spread his arms and behind him on the stage there appeared a great obelisk.

“The ancients of Trytoonow used this very artifact,” Grothol's words boomed. “It appears to be a mere hunk of lead, dug from the heart of a gas giant. Yet this block has proved again and again to have the supernatural power to aid man in conquest of his oldest enemy... fear!”

The curtains beside the stage billowed and ripples ran through the carpet.

I gasped as a glow formed out of the ether in the dark room, and a huge ghostly face, like the corruption of a human corpse, materialized from the darkness and gazed coldly into my being!

Before I could sputter or pinch myself the apparition was gone.

The audience had made no sound when it happened, hadn't reacted at all. I could only imagine that the ghost exited only in my mind. What else could it be? From somewhere in the dark behind us, though, I detected the muffled sound of a man sobbing.