Chapter 16

Chapter 16
The City,
Night


Watchman, what time of the night? Watchman, what time of the night?” The watchman says: “Morning comes, and also the night."
~ Isaiah

The IT Tower lay in silence; the night cloaking and hiding all details from a naked eye.
Simon stood, in the darkness nearby just watching...watching and waiting.
There were two guards out in front: the man DuMont and the other man who had been conscripted at the same time, Vespars.
They stood slightly apart from one another, not speaking or emitting any noise at all. They had been in such a state for quite some time.
Simon had watched them during this; he had matched them for their stillness and silence.
It was even colder now; Garden, it appeared, was in the true winter of the season and not the false climate it had been having.
Simon half expecte it to snow and had dressed as such.
He had learned his lesson earlier and now wore many light layers that allowed him a wonderful freedom of movement, but at the same time keeping the cold that was now Garden's mean temperature, at bay.
He was dressed in black, and amidst the darkness and shadows of the evening, he was practically invisible. Not that it mattered, he realized now, with the complete darkness of the surrounding area, he could be wearing almost any colour and still be just as invisible.

There was a sound.
It was a small crunch of gravel by a footstep.

Both men guarding reacted in different ways.
DuMont stiffened, an impressive feat, considering how taut his vigil had already been, and slunk back against the building's own darkness.
Vespars, on the contrary, seemed to relax and seamlessly move forward till he stood, just as still, hiding in plain sight in front.
Simon almost laughed, but stifled the noise before he did.
Another crunch and another sounded.
A dark figure moved slowly at the edge of Simon's vision.
It was not a light or anything that played out and displayed a figure, it was merely the absent of complete darkness, more of an opaque gray or even light black that gave away what was hidden.

The figure moved slowly, cautiously towards the two guards.
They did not move a muscle.
A small voice sounded. "I'm looking for.....a DuMont..."
DuMont shrugged imperceptibly at Vespars, who did not turn around, but remained totally still.
"I'm here boy, what is it?" He didn't move, but cast his voice louder as to carry.
"Message fo you...From the Inspector!"
The figure crunched slowly into view.
It was a small figure. Not one that suggested danger.
 The face of a small boy was revealed when Vespars, who was closest, struck a match.
The light flared, and the boy jumped.
"I didn't see you sir." He managed almost whispering.
"What's the message?" Vespar's voice was rough, but no more rough than normal.
"Here sir."  He handed over a small crumpled not.
"I'm not DuMont," Vespars growled, still taking the note.
"What? Who?...." The stammered and flush a little.

"I am." DuMont had come up quietly behind Vespars and was now standing beside the boy.
The boy jumped, but Vespars didn't.
"You may go, thank you."
The boy took one last look at the two of them and bolted.
Simon sat up a little straighter, he needed to keep his wits about him if he was to make his solitary way into the Tower tonight.
He couldn't see that Vespars or DuMont was doing anything at the moment; DuMont had just struck a match and was reading the missive, while Vespars prowled a little farther away.
"He says he wants me to meet him at entrance of the arboretium...now." His voice flat, he didn't reveal anything about how he felt about the message.
"I'll stay here, you go and then come back when you're done....I can handle it here." Vespars and DuMont spoke to each other in tones of those who barely knew each other, except by profession or by title.
DuMont nodded, barely visible in what little light there was, then left.
"Wonder what the old man has found..." He called over his shoulder.
Vespars just grunted, and then all was lost in the gloom.

Simon watched all this, and cursed his luck.
"One still..." He said under his breath, silent as the wind. He thought quickly, but it seemd impossible.
Vespars would not fall for any sundry tricks he could try here tonight.
That settled it for him; he withdrew as silently as he could.

All was silent for Vespars Lestrange. He stood in darkness, just as he liked. He was relaxed felt at home in the dark, just as deep sea creatures do. He could not see in the darkness as well as they, but his large, dark pools for eyes did not miss much in the dark.
As it was, his eyes were straining to see what lay around him, and his ears were on alert.

There! He heard the sound again.

He shuffled quietly to the side, where the sound seemed to originate. He was not afraid of much, but being caugh unawares and helpless was not something he wanted to think about.

There, he heard it just a few footsteps away: the sound of small scratches and tumbles in the shrubs. That is when he knew, just as he knew all the other moments and times, the extra bit of knowledge that kept him alive.
It was a sixth sense, a knowledge of what really lay in the shifting shadows of reality that had kept him alive in moments like this.
He moved back, faster this time but just as quietly. He wanted the building against his back so as to not have that large of a blind spot.

There, he was right again.
He heard the small scratching sound to his right, followed immediately by another small sound to his left.
Someone was distracting him with noises to one side, whilst they focused their true energy on some action to his other side.

Then everything changed.
In the blink of an eye, he saw more shadows created, more light and more dark in abundance. He gasped and was completely absorbed in this new creation.
He turned slowly and saw the source of the light. There were two lights in the sky now, a pale piece of moon that lit the black nightly gently and then there was another.
It was a harsher light, an orange glow that suffused all in his vision and created just as much light and dark in its creation.
Flames licked the Tower in a feral embrace, ever shifting and moving to an unseen rhythm.
Again Vespars gasped to see this strange sight, where none had been a moment before.
There was flame and there was darkness; and then both were one as the Tower became engulfed in the ever darting orange and black tide.
Vespars shrieked, for he knew what his end would be. The inescapable flames would follow him till the end of his days.

Then it was all over; The night was back, welcome in its nigerious embrace.
Vespars swallowed, but that was his only reaction. DuMont had mentioned such as this before.

He became even more wary of what lay out there. He knew not what power had played its little game with his mind, but he was resolved to not be fooled again by the vision of unreality.

Then he heard something else.
A scraping and scuffling came from his left, but it was slightly different this time than before.
 It came down to him, from an altitude of high above, and the question became real in his mind of just what power lay beyond in the darkness.
Damn and thrice damned, he thought, using one of the Inspector's phrasings that he had enjoyed.
He sprinted, silently as he could, to his left, craning to get a complete view of his surroundings so as to not be taken by surprise.

There was the sound again, from just above him, and then Vespars knew.
He launched himself at the Tower and the small latticework that could potentially hold him.
He grabbed at the nearest handholds and prayed they would hold.
They did and he started to climb.
Handhold, shift, crack for his foot and then it would start all over again. In daylight a climb like this would have delighted him. In the darkness now, he was in rapture.
He climbed quickly and simply, he didn't take risks, but moved efficiently with no wasted motion at all.
The sound from above had gotten louder; it seemed the intruder had abandoned silence for flight.
Vespars started to climb even faster still. He didn't risk a glance below ever, but continued his ascent.
Then he didn't hear anything.
The noise of the intruder climbing slightly above him had gone quiet.
Vespars stopped at once and strained to hear a slight noise, anything that would pinpoint to him the location of his quarry.

It was a slight sound, the faintest scrape, was what gave the intruder away.
Vespars heard it and immediately started to make his way towards the viscinity of the sound.
Then he heard it below him. The sound of light scraping was now below his position. He cursed and in the silence, it rang out as loud as a thunderclap.
Vespars started to climb down, a much slower and torturous descent.
He wished DuMont would arrive back now, but knew that it was not likely. Whatever the Inspector was up to, it would surely take a while.
That is what decided it in the end. Vespars had realized he might lose the interloper at this rate; they seemed as comfortable on the vertical face of the Tower as they might inside it.
Vespars, uttered one more oath and  leaped.
His was not the graceful leap of a panther, which he had done before to start his climb; this time it was a ungraceful falling, almost a flailing of his arms for a grip as he fell.
He hit something hard on the face of the Tower, and he knew he had his quarry.
He grabbed a handhold as he careened down, his body pinning what he had hit, between himself and the Tower's outside wall.
The quarry seemed not to move, most likely unconscious, in his grip of iron, so Vespars started his descent again. Even more slowly this time he moved, bracing the prone figure against the Tower's face.

They reached the ground with a slight thud, a few moments later.
Vespars let the figure drop, none to gently and jumped gracefully down the last few feet himself.
He rolled the figure over and lit his match.
The young face of Simon Temple looked back at him in supposed sleeping innocence.

The Doctor did not sleep well that night, not withstanding that he had been awake the entire night before. He was unsettled and had been unable to quiet the little voices in his mind.
He had paced his study for hours, after parting company with Evelyn the night before. He had talked with Robinson even, a sure sign that all hell was loose when he asked that man for advice.

"What do you think Tom?" Asked the Doctor in a morose way.
"Of your chances? I think you will have to play a little more skilfully to win this game Doctor. This criminal has been a step or two ahead of you at every turn. You'll never catch them that way."
Tom Robinson did not smile when he said this, he seemed almost worried himself, which was most uncharacteristic.
"Well just how do you suggest we get even? How do we become in step with this fiend?" The Doctor inquired.
"You said yourself you think you know what his Modus Operendi is; surely you could predict what they are going to do next?" This time he did smile when he said this.
"The available options are limitless!" The Doctor cried out in a strong voice. "We can't cover everything."
"You even know when it is going to happen: Tomorrow at some point, what is going to happen?"
The Doctor began to intone from Genesis.
" ...And God set them in the expanse of the heavens to give light on the earth, to rule over the day and over the night and to separate the light from darkness. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening and there was morning, the fourth day..."
"There you are!" Robinson crowed.
"What is the opposite of that, and there you have it. You've solved what is goinng to happen and now you can prevent it from happening."
"Evelyn and I got it wrong before. How do we know what the opposite of that is?"
"Well I think there can only be one answer for that. Garden is going to lose whatever system we have
that gives us our wonderful weather." He grimaced when he finished. "Excluding the past couple days of course, that temperature has been abysmal."
The Doctor looked at Robinson as if seeing him in a new light.
"Tom, I think you're onto something!  What would affect the weather and restore the true season's grip?"
"I think you would find sufficient means by disabling the weather controller in some way." Robinson said, thinking slowly aloud.

That had been only a few minutes earlier, and now the Doctor strode purposefully along one of the main thoroughfares to meet with Evelyn to discuss the late night's findings.
It was very dark, but he felt sure the urgency that they meet as soon as possible, was legitimate.
He was still tired, but it was more of a general feeling, rather than an overwhelming flood.
He supposed this might be due to his news, and what they could possibly accomplish this morning.
The lamps had all been lit, but there was still only just enough light to see by.
He went by the silent Market, the shops closed and the awnings folded. Most of the shopkeepers had fled, he assumed, due to the cold and dismal attendance.

"Evelyn, I must speak with you...The need is of the most dire sort!" He cried through the closed door.
He had arrived a few moment ago and had knocked gently on her door. When there was no response, he knocked louder.
That is when he had spoken loudly through the door, hoping to wake her with the sounds of distress.
"Doctor, I am already awake."  Her voice came from behind him.
He spun stupidly and saw her just standing there, her hands in her long coat pockets to protect them from the cold.
She was dressed in a muted gray overcoat, not bulky or too large, just the sort to combat the cold best.  Her hair was done back with a scarf, and her neck was covered with another scarf of a muted blue colour.
"Evelyn, I am glad you're awake." He began, then stopped a little confused as to how to say what he wanted.
"Do you have news? Let us go inside, I fear it is getting even colder." She smiled a little smile after saying this and led him inside.
When they had arranged themselves in a little nook in her kitchen, after lighting a lamp and stoking the brazier, the Doctor began.
"I was talking with Robinson just a little bit ago. I think he may be on to something."
"Tea?" She asked, her only response.
"No, thank you. Tom...He thinks he has a good guess as to where the criminal will strike next." He said collectedly.
"Well, we know what day is next and what happens in it."  She said, then quoted the verse from Genesis pertaining to it.
"Exactly right. We know what has to happen today. The opposite of that verse would be the true weather we should be experiencing, but that Garden has put off for so many years: Winter."
She snorted her response. "Just how do you suppose they would accomplish that? It is one thing to bring Garden to Winter, it is quite another to bring Winter to Garden."
"Robinson thinks he knows. The weather controller has most of the say in our weather patterns. Without it, we would most likely experience the same weather as everyone else." He exclaimed.
"Don't you see? There would be Winter here then! True season's weather, not the same temperature regardless of the season." The Doctor finished his speech slowly, with emphasis that Evelyn found hard to pin down.
"I think you may be on to something."
"What should we do about it?" The Doctor asked plaintively.
"I do not want to say this, nor does it come easily to my tongue, but I feel that we should let the Inspector know everything." She grimaced, as if the words left a bad taste in her mouth.
"Really Evelyn? That is a....surprising response from you. Are you sure about this?" He sounded very shocked.
"I am sure...I don't think any one of us has a chance by themselves to stop this villain." She sounded resigned when she said this, but her next words were fierce to the extreme and settled any question the Doctor had.
"And if we don't stop this damned villain, I don't know that I could go on."

Forgetting the lateness of the hour, they hurried to the Yard to share the news with the Inspector. The Yard was mostly dark and mostly quiet. The stopped outside to converse before going in.
"What if no one is here?" The Doctor asked, his breath coming out in patterns of steam.
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
He only nodded and they walked inside.
There was only one small lamp inside; it cast a flickering glow over it seemed the empty office. Empty that is until they heard the words, "What do you want at this hour?"
It was Seth. He lay on the small couch in the room next door. He was covered with a coat and his face looked slightly miserable.
"We might have something new, something to...." The Doctor began, when he was interrupted by Seth.
"Mondieu's not here. He'll be in tomorrow. Whatever you were going to tell him, you can tell me."
He swung his legs up and started to rise.
He ended standing, and covering his mouth with one hand while yawning hugely.
"You'll tell the Inspector as soon as he gets in?" Eve's voice was hard....and sure.
" 'Course!" Seth assured Evelyn, yawning again. "Excuse me."
"Well, we think we know what must happen next: what the next crime is!"
Seth didn't even blink. He just continued to yawn.
"And that is...?" Seth asked, finally closing his mouth and speaking.
"It's the..." Evelyn started to say when she herself was interrupted by a wild commotion from the front.
"Seth, prepare the cell for a visitor!" The cry went out.
Seth woke instantly. He lunged for his pad and his pencil.
Vespars and DuMont came in, holding someone between them.
"We got him trying to break into the Tower tonight, just like the Inspector said." Said Vespars triumphantly.
"Who is it?" Asked Seth, finding his pad and pencil.
"Simon Temple." Crowed DuMont.
"You imbecile! Temple is......not our villain!" Cried Seth, looking up and throwing his pad at DuMont.
"How do you know?" Asked DuMont stubbornly. "I think we should hold him till the Inspector arrives."
"On your own head be it." Sighed Seth, motioning them all in. "Just remember, I don't think the Inspector would believe he did anything either."
"Than what was he doing by the Tower tonight?" Asked Eve gently.
"That is something the Inspector I am sure will find out tomorrow." Answered Seth uneasily. "Now, as I don't believe Temple to be guilty of anything, what were you saying Miss Waugh?"
Evelyn only stared at Seth, her surprise evident.
"You don't think he is our villain?" Evelyn asked.
"I do not think him guilty either." The Doctor stated quietly into the waiting silence.
"I don't think Temple is what he appears to be. I think he will have reason enough for his actions, if only he bothered to explain them." Seth finally explained. "Now, you were saying Miss Waugh?"
"We think the weather is going to tampered with again; something much more extreme this time. We think it will be much colder after this next day." Evelyn said hesitatingly.
"You think our weather controller will be broken tomorrow?" Asked Seth in disbelief.
It was DuMont and Vespars, who had come back after putting Simon in his cell, who answered.
"You mean today?" Asked Vespars menacingly.
DuMont merely pointed and said, "Look!"

It was snowing outside and none to gently either.
"We're too late, He'd already finished his job." Said no one in particular.