t seemed I lay for hours, after they took Tary away, listening to my own heart beating rhythmically, staring at the ceiling. For the first time in my life I felt truly and completely helpless, and with good reason. Tary was right, you see, when she said that if they had me, they had everything. She is a rare soul, I suppose that's what made me love her. I knew she could withstand anything, any kind of treatment to maintain her own values. I also knew that she could never sit idly by and watch another suffer on her account, not if there was something she could do. Those of the Order don't understand those kinds of peculiarly human feelings that most of us are plagued with; feelings like guilt and integrity... or love. They do recognise them in others though, and will not hesitate to use those feelings, which they perceive as weaknesses, to their own ends. Indeed, they are expert.

In a while, Marge Kelly would come back with my clothes, and I would be released. Released to recover the Book, the Grimoir of Infinity, and deliver it into the dominion of evil. I held no illusion that we would all live happily forever after once they had what they wanted. I knew that with the Book in their possession, they would use me, the torment of my body, to convince Tary to release the power of the other two talismans into their hands, I also knew, as did Tarish herself, that in this they would succeed . I had to choose then, between my love for a woman, and my love of all things human. There was no doubt what the stakes were. Eternal, Universal chaos, versus a fleeting moment on the scale of human time in which to love and be loved.

In spite of the evidence building to the contrary, I am a man of science. As a scientist, the choice was clear cut, and linear. I must recover the Book and remove it somewhere safe, if such a place existed, where it could remain hidden, out of reach. At all costs, I could not afford to permit myself to fall again into their hands, to be used against Tary. As a man, however, the only logical choice was unacceptable. I couldn't bring myself to leave Tary to the fate I was certain awaited her in the hands of these people. As I said, they are expert, not only in the physical aspects of torture, but in the metaphysical aspects as well. Their skills are unsurpassed. I knew Tarish had no chance against the kind of pressure she would be made to endure In a solitary battle, she would lose, and the price would be her soul.

Still, reasoned the rational side of me, was it too great a price to pay, one single soul in return for the millions who lived and would live and had lived?

The man said yes. Even a single flawed soul was too great a price and a gentle soul such as hers, was priceless. The obvious solution was. - ........ I would have to think of something.

The door opened, and the nursing sister came in carrying the aluminium pan that was concession to my very human needs. As she positioned it, I talked to her, in part to avoid thinking of the humiliation I was enduring, and in part to see if this time, I might get some kind of a response. Well, it was worth a try. "Tell me sister, what have you done with my wife? I hope you're looking after her as well as you're looking after me." Nothing. .1 wasn't even a person, I don't think, not in her eyes. Just a job, a body to be taken care of, efficiently, but impersonally. I don't know, maybe she was deaf.

"She's very important to me. If there's anyway at all you could just let her know...."

Her job done, she ignored me completely and simply left the room. Once more I was left alone with myself, and I was in very bad company. In an attempt to escape the reality of the situation, I closed my eyes and forced my breathing into the regular, deep pattern of relaxed sleep. I used a technique picked up from a monk I'd once studied with in a Tibetan Monastery. It worked. The only trouble was, I still hadn't quite mastered the necessary control over my subconscious. Although I did manage to sink into sleep, it was a troubled state.

She was sitting, still tied to the chair. The Neanderthal known as Thornhill was pawing at her, tormenting her while Miss Kelly laughed. I tried to stop them, but my cries went unheard. Suddenly, I realised that my perspective was off. I was viewing the scene from above, Looking down, I could see the bed clearly, blood spattered across the white of the bed linen. It was me, my body laying unnaturally still, chest torn opened, eyes staring Thornhill moved now, and I could see Tary clearly. She seemed to look straight at me, her mouth still dripping my blood. Then, she laughed insanely. Blue flames burned the straps on her arms to nothing and she stood, pointing at me. She was dressed as I had last seen her, but now the robe fell opened. A bolt of pure energy sprang from her finger tip rushing toward me. There was nowhere for me to hide, no refuge to run to. My body was dead, a useless husk doomed to rot. I was caught, trapped between life and death.

"Tary NO!" I cried out voicelessly.

Blessedly, I woke then. Miss Kelly was standing over my bed with a strange man. No, not strange I recognised him from a forest glade in New York State, where once before he'd stood over me. Then, he had worn the robes of a sorcerer, the mask of the Goat. Miss Kelly clucked her tongue at me, in a parody of sympathy. "Nightmare, Dr. Pendargroom?"

I gathered myself and tried a smile, "oh, nothing too out of the ordinary, thank you."

"Good," she said. "I understand that you have met my colleague before?"

Have I? Dennings, is that you? It's so hard to tell. It was fancy dress last time, wasn't it?" He smiled down at me, and I understood why Tary had been reminded of a shark. "Something of the sort, yes."

He patted me on the shoulder and I wanted to cringe from his touch, I didn't. Instead, I forced myself to lay perfectly still, meeting his cold colourless eyes. I suspected that in the glare of an oncoming car, they would reflect back the light like a cat's.

"I can't tell you how pleased I am, Arthur, to have an opportunity to renew our too short acquaintance. You ran away last time before I could really explore your remarkable mind. I am sure your co-operation this time will be to our mutual advantage." He held out his hand to me.

"Oh, you will forgive me, I'm sure, but I am rather tied up just at the moment " I grinned. Suddenly, my right arm was free of restraint. Neither one of them had made a move, nevertheless, it had come loose. You can believe it was difficult for me to maintain that smile as I slowly extended my hand, but I think I made a decent enough show of it.

His grip was icy cold and very firm. I could almost imagine my own fingers shrivelling in his grasp. Then, he released me. Marge leaned over and undid my left arm in the ordinary way as Dennings watched.

"Don't even think of betraying me again Arthur, or I promise you, your wife will pay the price of your folly."

"If there was any other way, Dennings... if you harm her I'll kill you, I swear it" I whispered. He merely smiled indulgently.

"You'll find everything you need in the bathroom, Doctor. Please, get dressed as quickly as you can. If, as you say, your credentials have been rescinded, you will need every bit of time you have left." Kelly's eyes glinted dangerously. "If you want to spare your wife, that is, from our simple ritual,"

"Yes, of course," There seemed little else to say. They left me alone and I undid the leg restraints myself. I have to say, that I was a little wobbly, quite weak in the knees in fact, as I stumbled my way into the bathroom. It had been possibly as long as four days since our capture, and I hadn't been permitted so much as a stretch in all that time. My wound and the abscess had been expertly treated, though, and was quite improved I was certainly fit enough to leave on so simple an errand.

They came back for me accompanied by the two young toughs from the van. A black velvet bag was fitted over my head, and my hands tied behind my back, then I was led out to a waiting car.

"How do you expect me to bring the Book back here if I don't know where here is?" I said..

"Oh, you just get the Book, Doctor. There is a folded parchment in your left hand pocket. In it, you will find instructions. When the Grimoir is in your possession, follow them." It was the dry, slightly rasping voice of Malcolm Dennings.

"I see." I was ushered into the back of a car, quite a large one, by the feel of it. Probably, a Daimler Limo.

"Well, I can see that you are a man of style, at least," I remarked, settling myself. "Tell me, how do you plan to let me out without my seeing the license tag?"

"It has been arranged." The way he said it left me no doubt that it had indeed been arranged. .We drove for about twenty minutes in silence. I did what I could to try and recognise any sound that might come in useful for the purpose of identifying where we were, but either the auto was soundproofed, or we were out in the country someplace. Either way, I could discern nothing helpful. Finally, my companion spoke.

"Do hurry back to us, Doctor I am looking forward to spending time with you. I haven't yet had the opportunity to repay you properly.. And then there is the Lady Tarish.

Having your lovely wife in such close proximity tempts me, as I am certain you can appreciate. I am a man who takes his indulgences."

I lurched forward, struggling against the ropes around my wrists. Dennings merely laughed, laying a hand on my head. "You will sleep now, Doctor. When you awaken, you will be in familiar territory."

"I don't think so, you bastard. Once bitten, twice shy. I don't feel in the least tired, and I'm certainly not going to trust anything you might offer me to eat... or... drink... how are you..."

Whatever he did, it worked as intended. I woke up on a bench in Hyde Park. By the sun, it was nearly noon, but noon of what day? My hands were free and I found I had some money in my wallet and plenty of loose change in my pocket. There was also the folded parchment. I took it out and unfolded it gingerly. It was completely blank. Somehow I was certain that when I looked at it next, after I retrieved the Book, my instructions would be there, as promised. I put it back into my pocket and walked up to the High Street to find a news agent. If Marge was telling me the truth, I had less than two days to recover the Grimoir and come up with a way to stop them. Less than two days. I sighed. I had better think of something!

I took the tube to Bayswater, and went to the hotel first. I needed a base My movements, although probably watched carefully, were unrestricted. Tarish had said Jenny had set us up. Was that the product of a drug induced paranoia, I wondered, or was she right? Even knowing that there was something amiss in the home office, it seemed almost impossible to believe, that the number two person in the Institute could have been suborned. Still, I trusted Tary's instinct. To paraphrase one of my fictional heroes, 'when all other possibilities have been eliminated, whatever is left, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.' From what I recalled, Jenny was the only person who knew where we would be that night, indeed she had planned for us to be there. I already knew that the leak had to be someone in Sir's confidence. As difficult as it was, I concluded Tarish was probably right.

Well, at least it was a starting point. I could use that information. I opened the drawer to the desk to find my diary and put my hand smack onto one of Tary's bags of Jelly Babies. Jelly Babies. I'm not usually prone to over sentimentalism, but that silly bag of sweets suddenly made the breath catch in my throat. I was sure she wasn't getting any Jelly Babies where she was now.

I had to function, so I couldn't let my emotions get in the way. Absently I stuck the bag into my pocket. I found my book and dialled the special number. It was the number only Jen could answer. It rang four times, then a recorded message. "Please enter your personal code now."

I pressed my personal identification number into the key pad and waited. In a moment, Jen's voice came on the line. She sounded breathless.

"Doctor, is that you?"

"Yes, Jen. It's me. Are you out of Sir's hearing?"

"I am. I've been worried. Tarish never called to let me know what the doctor said.

When I tried to get in touch, I found out you'd never made it there at all. Where have you been for three days?"

"Listen to me Jen. It's a long, complicated story. I can't go into the whole thing now, this line's not secure. Can you meet me? I'll need to have my credentials, at least my association with the museum, intact. Do you think you can manage that for me? And Jen, it's important. Tary's life is in the balance."

For a minute there was silence. Then she came back.

"I've reactivated your security clearance with the University and Museum. The new cards are printing up now. Where shall I meet you?"

"At the same place where we had breakfast last time. You do remember, don't you?"

She laughed. "Of course I remember." Then, she sobered. "I'm sorry about Tary, Doctor, Is there anything I can do?"

I took a deep breath, knowing that it was she who'd betrayed Tary and me. "You're doing it. Thanks Jen. A half hour then?"

"Right I'll be there." She rang off.

It was a short walk to Notting Hill Gate at the bottom of Portobello Road that was our code for breakfast. I made it in fifteen minutes and sat down to wait. She was early. There was no way she could have accomplished everything I'd asked and made it here in the time she did. That supported Tary's theory, that she was in league with them. She must've had everything ready and waiting before I phoned. I stood up and waved, forcing myself to smile.

"Over here, Jen." She handed over an envelope with the documents, and gave me a short kiss on the lips. There had been a time when Jen and I had been close, at least I'd thought so.

"Well you do seem better", she said, stepping back a pace and looking me over critically.

"Yes, I've been well looked after, thank you. You do realise you're not to mention this to Sir David? I'm afraid he was very clear the other day."

She smiled a little and placed her hand on my arm. "He was very put out when he got your resignation, you know. I believe he always thought of you as his successor, sort of heir apparent."

"Yes, well I decided what I wanted to do in my dotage was be a University Professor." I went over the credentials. They were perfect. Of course they would be, they weren't exactly forgeries, merely misappropriated originals!

"You realise I've put you on quite a spot with this if Sir discovers what you've done."

"I understand, Doctor. What exactly are you going to do with those?" She nodded at the cards in my hands.

"It's better that you don't know. Something I'm afraid Sir David will never forgive me for." I grinned. "Oh well!"

"Whatever it is, I wish you luck, Doctor. Keep in touch, will you?"

I nodded. Jen hailed a taxi and was gone. If she was involved with the Order, she would report back to them. That was good. So far I'd done everything just as though I was co-operating to my fullest. The next bit was going to be more difficult. Somehow, I had to get in touch with Sir David, without letting Jen find out about it. Then I had to convince the arrogant bastard that I was right. But first, I had to get into the museum vault and steal the Grimoir! All in all, a busy day and night ahead.

I contacted Marion Walden, the Curator of Antiquities from a call box and told her to expect me. She sounded surprised, and a little suspicious. I assured her that rumours of my disgrace had been greatly exaggerated, and I had perfectly good, newly drawn up credentials to prove it. She sounded pleased to hear it. When I arrived, I was shown immediately to her office.

"Any trouble transferring the Grimoir, Marion? I know I've been a little under the weather lately, out of touch."

She smiled. "No trouble at all Dr. Pendargroom. It was just where you said it would be."

"Good, good. May I see it please?"

Her smile faded to a look of puzzlement. "Why? Whatever for? I thought you had made a complete study at the Institute before it was turned over to us?"

"Oh, well, yes, of course I did, naturally. But there was something I wanted to check. One of the carbon tests came back with anomalous results. I thought if I could just have it for a day or two...?" I smiled.

Now, I am not a handsome man in the usual sense of the word. I have rather a large nose and droopy eyes, and have a tendency to stoop.. Still, I do seem to have a way with the ladies. In truth, it's always been a bit of a mystery to me.

She hesitated a moment, but I could see I had won her over. She smiled. "0f course, Dr. Pendargroom. I will just ring downstairs and let them know I'm coming for it then."

This was going better than I'd hoped! She dialled a number and spoke. "Yes, this is Dr. Walden. Dr. Pendargroom is here for the Book, the one known as the Grimoir of Infinity. If you get it from the archival vault, I'll just pop down and fetch it for him." She hung up and glanced at the clock on the wall. "I didn't realise the time, Doctor, Nearly four already. You sit here and wait while I get the Book for you. I'll have tea sent in, how's that?"

Tea sounded wonderful. It seemed like ages since I'd eaten.

In a few minutes, a secretary brought in a tea cart and poured out for me. There were several muffins, and a pot of jam. Marion had been gone a little while and I saw no reason to wait, so I was just reaching to help myself when the door opened. A large and very heavy hand came down on my shoulder. I looked up.

"Fletcher! You're looking well. Oh look, and Maxwell too, how nice." Well, so much for my way with the ladies.

"What are you doing here, Doctor?" asked Fletcher, clutching my shoulder quite painfully.

"Well, I was just about to have some tea and muffins. If you gentlemen would care to join me, I'm sure Dr. Walden could arrange for some more cups.. and I..."

He sighed. "Come on. Sir David wants to see you."

I threw one last longing look at the tea tray. "But, I haven't had my muffin yet."

Fletcher and Maxwell didn't seem to care much about my tea, though, and made quite a show about removing me from the museum through a side door, with my arms handcuffed behind my back! Who did they think I was, Houdini? For the second time in one day, I was hustled into the back seat of a car. This time, between two former colleagues who knew me well. They were the best, and totally familiar with my methods. No hope at all of slipping by them. As the car headed across London, I counted the hours, the minutes, the seconds, I had remaining. Tary was running out of time.

I closed my eyes and pictured her face. Untidy, blond, Harpo Marx hair, blowing about a freckled pug nose; blue eyes that glinted and changed colour in the sun or the moon. What was she doing now? Would they feed her? Would they give her water? I knew they would do nothing to overtly harm her, but neglecting her, continuing to withhold food and water, would be just as deadly as slitting her throat, especially in the state she was in the last time Id seen her. I tried not to think too much about what she was enduring. I needed my mental faculties to be sharp. I had to convince Sir David that his entire organisational structure was in jeopardy and I didn't know who I could.

Inside the building which houses the Institute's public offices, there is a whole series of halls, corridors and rooms, that most of the staff is not even aware of. You can reach them only by riding the key operated security lifts, and even they are difficult to locate unless you knew exactly where to look. It was part of the more covert organisation that BITS represented. I will go no further with my description than that, other than to say, every government has a certain number of these agencies, even the good guys. The way our modern world runs, they are a necessary evil. It was here that I was taken and confined in a detention room.

"Fletcher, Maxwell, please! You don't understand! There is very little time left! Tell him I have to talk to him, please!!" They bolted the door on the outside and left me bellowing after them. Cheeky, they hadn't even posted a guard. Of course, they hadn't removed the handcuffs either. I sat down on the small cot and leaned my head against the wall. My nose itched. My nose always seems to itch when my hands are tied up. I wonder why that is? Now I had nothing to do to keep my mind off Tarish. Every minute I was stuck here, was another minute she was in their hands. I couldn't stand the thought of Thornhill and those two young hooligans, and god only knew who else, touching her in a brutal parody of love that.... That line of thought was doing me no good at all. I had to do something!

Absently, I began to knock my head against the wall, trying to jar loose an idea. I had started out with some vaguely formed notion of getting the Grimoir, convincing Sir that he had a turncoat in the family and having him ride to the rescue like the cavalry in the last frame of an American Western. I figured that once I had the Book and my instructions, they could follow me. All right, so it had some flaws. It was something, wasn't it? Except that I hadn't counted on Marion Walden actually checking with Sir himself. I wondered why she had.

"You'll give yourself a headache if you keep that up." I had been so lost in my own misery, I hadn't even noticed the door open. I couldn't believe my eyes. It was Sir David Marshall himself looming as large as life, larger, in the doorway of the detention room.

"Fletcher, Maxwell, please! You don't understand! There is very little time left! Tell him I have to talk to him, please!!" They bolted the door on the outside and left me bellowing after them. Cheeky, they hadn't even posted a guard. Of course, they hadn't removed the handcuffs either. I sat down on the small cot and leaned my head against the wall. My nose itched. My nose always seems to itch when my hands are tied up. I wonder why that is? Now I had nothing to do to keep my mind off Tarish. Every minute I was stuck here, was another minute she was in their hands. I couldn't stand the thought of Thornhill and those two young hooligans, and god only knew who else, touching her in a brutal parody of love that.... That line of thought was doing me no good at all. I had to do something!

Absently, I began to knock my head against the wall, trying to jar loose an idea. I had started out with some vaguely formed notion of getting the Grimoir, convincing Sir that he had a turncoat in the family and having him ride to the rescue like the cavalry in the last frame of an American Western. I figured that once I had the Book and my instructions, they could follow me. All right, so it had some flaws. It was something, wasn't it? Except that I hadn't counted on Marion Walden actually checking with Sir himself. I wondered why she had.

"You'll give yourself a headache if you keep that up." I had been so lost in my own misery, I hadn't even noticed the door open. I couldn't believe my eyes. It was Sir David Marshall himself looming as large as life, larger, in the doorway of the detention room.

©2000 by Trish Reynolds