“This machine is a devil. It is open to the other side. To him. You know what powers its terrible heart.”
Marlowe glared at Miriam. “When we conduct the experiment again and establish a stable connection, we won’t need to use Diviners to charge the Eye anymore. We’ll have all the energy we need. Endless resources! Abundance! We just need an answer from the other side about how to proceed.”
“This, you cannot do! He tricks you. That is what he does. Don’t you see? You serve him.”
The tall Shadow Man smirked. “Whatever this entity is, this man in the hat, the United States government is very interested in acquiring him. He could be the greatest weapon on earth.”
“You will kill us all,” Miriam said.
“Hook her up so she’ll shut up,” the other Shadow Man said. “Crazy Russian Diviner.”
“Now, now. There’s no call for that,” Marlowe chastised, and the man quieted.
From his hiding place, Jericho watched Marlowe settle the metal helmet onto Miriam’s head. The other, he placed on Anna. He donned heavy rubber gloves and extracted a yellowish rock from a canister marked URANIUM, which he tucked inside the machine.
“Don’t,” Miriam begged. “The soldiers’ souls are trapped inside the Eye. It is torture for them. And for the Diviners you use.”
Jericho knew Miriam was saying this for him, so that he would know.
“There’s no one trapped inside, Miriam. I’ve told you this before,” Marlowe tutted.
“Not true. The soldiers power your machine. Our sin powers it,” she said, and she sounded close to crying.
“I don’t know why you torture yourself so, Miriam,” Marlowe said with a sigh.
Marlowe slid a large pair of goggles over his eyes. He faced the machine, flipping switches and turning gears. The hum grew louder. A flickering halo formed above Miriam and Anna and shot down, encasing them in a cone of multi-ringed light. The machine glowed brightly with some new burst of energy. In the room, the lights brightened. The radio blurted on so loudly Jericho had to cover his ears. Only the machine’s teletype remained silent. Marlowe watched it closely.
“Anything?” the tall Shadow Man asked.
“No,” Marlowe answered, clearly disappointed. “No message.”
He cranked up the dials. Anna fought against her restraints. Her body shook. “I hear them! They cry. Blood and pain. It gives him power! You must not… you must set them free!”
She cried out with visions beyond comprehension. What she saw was burning her up from the inside. Blood poured from her nostrils. Smoke rose from her skin where red burns appeared. But Marlowe and the men kept their eyes on the ticker tape, not caring what was happening to the Diviner in the chair.
Jericho had to stop this insanity. He would rush them. Knock them out. Then he would free Anna and Miriam. The Shadow Men might get off a few shots first, but he had to try. But before he could move, Miriam cried out:
“No! Go now! Do not look back! Warn them! Tell the truth of it!”
Jericho knew the warning was meant for him.
“What’s she saying?” one of the Shadow Men sniped, moving quickly to Miriam’s side.
Anna Provenza was screaming now with the power of the terrible visions breaking her apart. Jericho willed himself not to scream, too.
“Can you calm her down, Miriam? I can’t think!” Marlowe growled, eyes on the teletype.
While the men were distracted, Jericho slipped out the door again, Anna’s screams still ringing in his ears. He leaped from the roof and vomited into one of Marlowe’s rosebushes. Then he took off toward the woods, running faster than he ever had before, disappearing deep into the cover of forest. He had to get back to the city and warn the others. But the Shadow Men would be looking for him. He’d need to avoid the train stations and main roads. He’d have to make it back on foot, through the countryside. And he’d have to hope that there was enough serum in his bloodstream to keep him alive.
SOLID CITIZENS
Branchville, New Jersey
Spring Fair
In the Fitter Families for Future Firesides tent, the white-capped nurses cleaned up the last of the day’s syringes and cotton swabbing while the doctor made his report. It was nearly suppertime, and the doctor was eager to return to his comfortable home, where his wife was cooking him a steak. So he frowned as two men in dark suits pushed aside the tent’s flaps and sauntered inside. They looked out of place here but didn’t walk like it. Instead, they carried an ease of ownership, as if the world would bend to them with just a finger.
“I’m afraid the eugenics tent is closed until tomorrow, gentlemen,” the doctor said.
The men stepped in front of the good doctor’s desk, blocking out the day’s dying light.
“We’re associates of Mr. Madison’s. I’m Mr. Jefferson. This is Mr. Adams.”
Mr. Adams pressed his fingers to his hat brim but did not tip it.
“Oh,” the doctor said, straightening his tie. “I thought I was supposed to give the files to that Madison fellow.”
“We’re all citizens, united in our cause.” Mr. Jefferson smiled a pebbly smile. “Did anyone of interest pass through today?”
“Ay-yup. Found one from Cape May who might be the real deal. He told us he can disturb radio signals. Watches don’t work on him, either. In fact,” the doctor chuckled, “he stopped my watch! It was the darnedest thing you ever saw, wasn’t it, Muriel?”
The nurse smiled and continued cleaning.
“I’m sure it was a hoot,” Mr. Jefferson said. “Did he make mention of our friend?”
The doctor nodded. “He’s had dreams of a man in a tall hat, just like you said. I can’t say I understood a word of it. But here’s his file.”
“Is he on our list?” Mr. Jefferson asked his partner, keeping his eyes on the page of information—name, age, home address, psychological profile. People were so trusting. They gave over their privacy quite easily in exchange for a brass trinket that told them they were special.
Mr. Adams peered over Jefferson’s shoulder. “Yep. Subject number thirty-four.”
The doctor edged in closer and lowered his voice. “Say, uh, what’s all this about, anyway, man to man?”
Mr. Jefferson shut the file and handed it off to Mr. Adams. “It’s a matter of national security. We believe these so-called Diviners are dangerous. They’re inclined toward criminality, anarchy, and other degenerate behavior. A fault in the bloodline, you see.”
“Oh, I do! I certainly do. That’s just science,” the doctor said confidently, pointing to the eugenics board inside the tent. “When my daughter, Sally Ann, wanted to marry her fella, I told her, ‘Now, Sally Ann, you better let me do a blood test on him first, make sure he’s the right sort.’”
“I’m sure you can appreciate how serious it might be if this radical sort, with their strange powers, were allied with our enemies or foreign powers in any way. The fundamental values of our nation would be at risk.”