Chapter 24
Garden
Late Evening
The Yard tended to be empty at this time of day; empty that is except for Seth. He was still there, as he always was now.
He sat at his desk and floundered in his thoughts.He felt lost and not a little unsure about what to do next.
The Inspector had asked him to look up on Robinson, the Doctor's butler, but then the Doctor and Evelyn had asked him to look up old Garden and its history. They all had the same idea: to solve the crimes that had rocked the City these past few days.
He wasn't sure what to do.
He was due off of his shift at the Yard in a little while, and he knew he must decide by then. He fidgited at his desk, thinking of the three people that had asked him to do different things.
The Inspector was his superior, this was sure and stable territory. Yet, the Doctor and Evelyn knew Garden and had smart, capable heads on their shoulders. They had figured out, about the same time as the Inspector, that these crimes were based on a perverse view of the seven days of creation.
He also found himself giving them a lot of credit for the effort they had put in so far. The effort was dangerous and could have ended terribly, but it hadn't yet.
He found himself grinning when he thought of them, and suddenly he was sure what he was going to do.
He was not even sure why, he couldn't have said even if had wanted to explain it.
***What was it though? *** He asked himself. *** It was not that he distrusted the Inspector and his task, but he wasn't from Garden, and Seth found out that it mattered. ***
The small bell at the back tolled, and almost at the same time, in a simultaneous display of coherence, Seth stood up at the same time. He grabbed his small knapsack and walked out of the door, passing DuMont who was to taking his place at the Yard that night.
He headed directly south when he got out, his apartment was not that far away in that direction.
He wondered what he would do to complete his task given him. The normal history was fairly well known, but what lay behind that mask of the ordinary?
He intended to find out.
The later afternoon's fog was slowly disappearing; it almost seemed to be fighting to stay around till evening. The sun, though hidden, seemed to shine brightly and through the cloud cover, a few rays escaped.
He whistled as he walked, and just like his reason to choose the Doctor's and Evelyn's task rather than Mondieu's, he was not able to say why he whistled. He had not done so since this whole business started, and why he should do so now, was a complete mystery to him. *** I wonder if it is because I have something to do that might have a bearing on solving the case, rather than just reacting to everything that happens afterward? *** He shook his head, it was useless to think about.
He approached his apartment, and walked up his steps slowly. He had stopped whistling and felt a strain to do something, anything besides walk in his front door.
His strides got shorter and shorter, and his walk much slower as approached his door. He fumbled with the knob for a second, and then he was over the threshold.
The scene inside burst on him as if it were a firework that had gone off the moment he had walked in.
It was much darker than it should have been, something associated with dark, dank places that never saw the sun's rays.
He was rooted to his doorway, he couldn't move. He wondered detachedly if it was due to the darkness itself or some fear of the unknown that strove to keep him in place.
The living room was a maze of crisscrossing lines and shadows from the small light allowed from the slightly open doorway.
There were irregular masses and lines that had not been there before. Illogical turnings and branches, his living room was a maze of something that crossed and threaded itself all around.
He could even smell something richly aromatic and earthy, of what he was not sure, but it reminded him of the darkness he saw now in his living room.
Seth found he could move his arm a little and gripped the jam to give himself extra strength to find his way inside.
He moved one foot slowly and then another. He was a little inside now, completely free of the doorway.
It was still the same, perhaps worse, as he went farther into his apartment.
He wondered if this had something to do with the most recent crime. The flooding of the City could have done something to his apartment; could have changed the features and texture entirely.
He shook his head to clear it. He was about halfway inside now, seemingly having to wade through his own living room. It didn't feel as if there was anything strange about his apartment, rather, it felt as if his own legs opposed the motion and had to be forced to do so.
Now that he was further in, he could hear a steady noise, almost a beat the seemed to reverberate within the walls.
BEAT
He just stood there, now he was completely rooted to the spot. He could not, as hard as he tried, to move anywhere.
BEAT
The living room pulsed slightly, with the noise. It was not an extreme movement in any way, rather the pulse of a gently sleeping room.
BEAT
He felt it now, rather than heard it. The room was the sound now, it was all around him. He was inside the drum that created the beat.
BEAT
The room pulsed slightly on that beat, the vibrations stirring and legato. He could feel the vibration growing in frequency and amplitude within himself. The wave grew till it expanded out from him and into the room.
He couldn't se it, but it was there, he could feel it still. There was no lag now, the pulse was constant at some frequency. He found he could move his hand again, and he reached out to feel it.
His hand vibrated and shook slightly, in tandem and resonant with the wave.
He withdrew his hand slowly.
He suddenly knew what this was.
BEAT
He was no longer there, in the strangeness of his own living room anymore; he stood in front of Garden's main entrance. Mondieu stood next to him.
They were clad in the guise as travelers.
****insert Pilgrim's Progress reference**********
Mondieu wore a brown cloak that trailed long into the dust. It was threadbare and worn and matched much the state of his shapeless hat.
Seth's trappings were much the same, except that he carried a large, heavy looking bag on his back.
They were standing outside the City, on a small hill on the main road that led into Garden. They could see most of the City laid out before them like a chessboard. There was the Dome in the center, rising tall and proud in its own sparkling, sun drenched on glass way.
The IT Tower stood a distance away, also clearly visible to their eyes. The City looked intact and whole, but it almost seeemd to shiver in crouching menace, but, in this dream, Seth was not surprised. He wondered at that briefly, but turning to Mondieu, it seemed he was not either.
"The City...." Mondieu said, in response to Seth's glance. "It is troubled.... I do not think it is anything I can investigate without losing focus." He shook his head as if to clear it.
Mondeiu clearly was not himself, but Seth again, found himself unsurprised. It seemed that everything was according to his own plan and interpretation in his vision.
"I need to do something... Garden is in trouble!" Seth found himself saying without a thought about it. "I can do something to help."
"Help? We all need something lad, do you think you can help everyone and everything?" Mondieu asked wearily.
Seth could only shake his head.
"There you are. We should go." Mondieu turned and started to walk away. Seth again, found himself in the familiar ground of unable to move.
"I can't...." He hesitated here; it seemed that this was the crux of it all and all the more difficult to put into words because of it. "I would not know what to do besides help Garden, Mondieu."
"How can you help them Seth? Look at what you would bring into Garden with you!" Mondieu cried, pointing with his walking stick to what lay on Seth's back.
Seth turned his head to try to see what lay in his bag he carried, but he could not seem to see any of the contents no matter how he twisted. He tried to shrug the straps off his shoulders, but his paltry, weak motions seemed to have little effect on them.
"Stop trying lad," Mondieu said, "It's no use."
Seth didn't say or ask anything, but Mondieu seemed to know what was on his mind.
"I don't know what's in there exactly, I just know I have one of my own lad. It's hidden deep, but I can still feel it as if it were a millstone around my neck."
"Inspector, I have to try." Seth tried to project some confidence and assurance into his voice, but he wasn't sure he had succeeded.
"You can't win with that weight around on your back. It's just...you can't lad, why try?" Mondieu said, resignedly, still leaning on his stick.
"Because I can't do anything else!" Replied Seth heatedly, his own stable temper rising.
Mondieu just looked at him, his lean and lined face showing a measure of concern in his eyes and the cornering of his mouth.
"I can't help you in there, you know? It is something beyond....me innit?"
"Inspector, it's all right." Seth surprised himself by even believing this as he said it.
"You must be careful lad, what you bring in, you must also face." Mondeiu said urgently changing his tack, as Seth, who found he could walk by this time, started to walk forward on the road into Garden.
"Doesn't matter to me. I will face what I must face. Would've happened anyway sooner or later." Seth grimaced in concentration as his legs seemed unwilling to obey his command to keep walking.
"Lad, just be careful. Garden needs help for many reasons, and you may come up short."
This was the last thing Seth heard, as he made his solitary way on the road, into the City.
Leaving this mental tableau, with a wrenching lurch, Seth found himself standing in the front room of his abode.
It lay completely in its normal untidy state of books lying everywhere, slipshod and under foot in most cases. There was a lamp lit, but he didn't remember lighting it.
He walked over to the sofa and sank deeply into it, his head in his hands.
This vision had completely unnerved him. He felt wretchedly naked and vulnerable.
He had merely walked into his apartment and, rather than walking into his living room as he had expected, he had walked into the subterranean root structure of the Tree. It had pulsed with life and had been around him and a part of him, but still he felt as if it was not a natural thing that it sprang from inside him. He didn't know how to put that thought into words, but it was an alien thought, something strange to his way of thinking and that was enough for him.
The next vision had transported him outside the City with Mondieu as a companion.
This one had not been as dark or frightening, but still he found himself dreading the thought of what it might portend, both for Garden and himself.
Mondieu had not been the Inspector that Seth knew in reality. In the vision, he had been disquietingly broken and detached in character. He had been unable or unwilling to help Seth, and this is perhaps what Seth thought the most disquieting of all. Mondeiu as anything but the Inspector he had come to Garden as, was something Seth couldn't even contemplate.
After a few more silent moments, he raised his head from his hands. With a determined look on his face, he got up and began to pace around the room. It was not a large room, and before long, he had worn a nice little path in the carpet.
From time to time, he would gesture or come to a stop, but these were only pauses in the routine. He would invariably start to walk again, his face almost contorted in rough thought.
Many steps later, he stopped and once again sank into the sofa. He reached around to the end table and pulled out his small tobacco pouch.
He rolled a cigarette slowly, not looking at all at what he was doing. The result was a soggy mess that he tried to light unsuccessfully a number of times.
Swearing under his breath, he rolled another, this time much more carefully. He lit it and puffed contentedly.
With the ash drifting around him, he pulled his notebook close and started to write.
Some time later he was done.
He had also come to a decision. If he was going to catch this fiend in the act, he would have to assume that anybody in Garden had the potential to be guilty. This caused him some angst thinking about it, but he assuaged this by remembering his duty to Garden.
Seth went to sleep a few minutes after this and fell asleep immediately.
His notebook lay open on the little desk next to his bed.
It read as a series of lists.
In the first column was a a series of names that went from Mondieu to Pavloh and everyone Seth knew in between. In the next column was a question mark or some hastily scrawled, barely legible word. The column was labeled, 'Motive.' The next column was titled, 'To Find Out.'
He had put under the latter column: Garden's history, origins of the Tree, scientific research done, reasons for Garden's existence, Garden's original inhabitants and Mondieu's backstory.
Seth slept easily, his breathing even and fine. He slept the sleep of the just, for he was sure the next day he would get much closer to the answer to the riddle of what behind Garden's secret.
“Whoso beset him round
With dismal stories
Do but themselves confound;
His strength the more is.”
― Bunyan
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