“None. I’m sorry.”
“God damn it. Well, he knows damn well all he has is a hunch, so they’re turning everything upside down looking for proof of their supposed saboteur, and they told me point-blank that they didn’t think I’d be much help. It’s obvious he thinks that if he looks everywhere else and doesn’t find anything, he’ll be able to get permission to go after my team directly. Through proper channels this time.”
“What are they doing now?” asked Audrey.
“Questioning more people, combing the library collections for something—I don’t know what. Searching faculty offices. They may even go through the student dorms and faculty housing just to prove they’ve been thorough, I don’t know. Eventually they’ll make it over here—and I’m sorry, they may well get permission to question you again.”
Trumbull grimaced. “I still have to teach a class this morning. Are you all planning to spend the whole day sitting around my house again?” If the question wasn’t hint enough, the glare that accompanied it was.
“I’d like to head back to Hall for the day,” I said. Audrey nodded vigorously, and there were general murmurs of agreement, even from Neko. “Or will that look too suspicious?” I asked Spector.
“Everything looks suspicious to them right now,” he said. “Frankly, I’m damned if I’ll sit around waiting for him to get to me. I’ve made all the calls I can, and no one wants to talk with me who wasn’t listening already. Clearing out and letting them make a public mess all on their lonesome … isn’t a great idea, but it’s the best I’ve got. You can explain more about your night on the way.”
“Where’s Caleb?” I asked belatedly, suddenly worried for him.
“He never came back to the guest dorm,” said Charlie.
“We need to pick up Miss Dawson, but…” Spector trailed off. I felt a surge of relief, both at the reminder of where Caleb had likely gone, and at Spector’s apparent understanding.
“He’ll make it,” I assured him. I closed my eyes and reached through the confluence in Caleb’s direction. It was getting easier. I felt warmth, even breaths, a measure of calm that those of us sleeping here had not been granted. I pushed a little of my still-slowing pulse in his direction, and hoped it would be enough to wake him.
Spector’s car was meant to fit six in a pinch, and Dawson was our sixth. We drove around the side of Skinner’s house, out of view of the front door. Spector literally looked the other way, and a moment later Caleb ran around the corner. He peered dubiously in the window at the crowded seats. I pushed open the door and leaned out. “Climb on in, brother dear!”
After some experimentation, we ended up scrambling around so he sat next to Dawson with me on his lap.
“Why do you guys do that?” asked Dawson.
“Do what?” asked Caleb. He put the lie to his innocence by ostentatiously ruffling my hair. “Sister dear?”
I poked him in the ribs.
“It’s sort of a joke,” he said. He reddened, but his tone turned more serious. “In the camps, some of the guards believed we all married our siblings. Playing along made them look stupid.”
“And helped convince them that they didn’t want to touch the girls,” I added.
“I know that sort of joke,” said Dawson. She leaned against him, giving Audrey a hair more space.
A guard at the side gate made us roll down our windows. He smirked, but nodded to Spector and let us pass. His eyes were restless as he turned back to his watch, and he fidgeted with his cigarette.
“All right,” said Spector. “Let’s hear it.”
“Are you sure you want to know?” I asked.
“No. But it sounds like I can’t afford not to.”
I told him about the previous night, glossing over our break-in but making up for it with the details of Barlow’s subterranean sanctuary.
“You know,” said Spector, “I thought most of their claims about what they could do were parlor tricks. Or just exaggeration.”
“They send you out to deal with the freaks,” said Caleb. “Do you mean to tell me you didn’t believe in magic?”
“I believe there are a lot of things about the universe that we don’t understand yet. We’ve seen hints about transdimensional mathematics—some work done right here at Miskatonic—and ESP for almost twenty years now. But a lot of things in the original Innsmouth files were made up whole cloth from malicious rumor. Demon-summoning rituals seemed of a piece.”
I sighed. “Most of them probably were. But there truly are entities that don’t mean humans well—they don’t mean us harm, either, but their natures are such that they’d need to work hard not to destroy us. They just don’t care. If someone makes a crack, they come through for their own purposes, and the destruction follows.”
“Ah. But you sent this thing home—or Trumbull did.”
“As far as I can tell.” I shivered—even thinking about the sound-devouring cold was enough to make the air feel thin around me. I took a deep breath. “I have no idea if Trumbull sent it home, or just elsewhere, but she seemed confident that she’d shut down whatever was pulling it through.”
“I suppose she’d know more about it than the rest of us.”
“If she weren’t there, I don’t think we’d be alive now. Depending on how much of that thing there was to come through, I wouldn’t bet on anyone in Morecambe County.”
Spector’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “I guess that must happen, sometimes. There are enough stories about vanished towns.”
“I don’t suppose,” I said, “that kind of risk would be enough to get them recalled. Or fired. Or tried for treason.”
He laughed. It sounded strained. “Even with evidence … it might get them pulled back and given a stern lecture. It might also get them sent off to continue their research under more controlled circumstances. There are people who appreciate that kind of power.”
“Sure, it’s powerful,” said Audrey. “As long as you don’t mind standing at ground zero while you set it off.”
“That doesn’t always stop people,” said Spector.
*
We picked up bagels in Kingsport. Their warmth did a little to suppress my memory of the previous night, and to combat the fatigue that still fogged my mind. The library was just opening as we arrived, and we settled gratefully into our usual spot.