Blind School (9 page)

But as the fresh image came up on the holo-pod, it sparked something in Jessica’s mind: a hazy Abaddon-like image forming as she looked towards a man across a road junction, but not becoming fully clear.

‘And finally saving the best – or in this case
worst
– till last: Satan... otherwise known as Lucifer. Or often simply 'The Devil'.’ Mentinck mocked a small bow as he brought up the hologram, as if he was doing a Vaudeville presentation. ‘Without doubt the best known of all fallen angels. His reputation precedes him...’

Alex Culverton nodded as the young nurse brought him up to date on his father’s medication and latest monitor readings. He looked concernedly over her shoulder towards his father's bedroom door; the caring son.

   ‘It's okay. You go for your break now. I'll stay here and keep an eye on him meanwhile.’

The nurse nodded her thanks and Alex watched her leave. With a fresh breath he entered his father’s bedroom.

Alex knew that this confrontation now was inevitable, but didn’t appreciate how defensive and difficult his father might be until halfway through pleading his case. Obviously the hospital stay and drugs had made the old man even more stubborn than usual. Alex gestured helplessly.

‘I can’t emphasize strongly enough: this investigation with John over the air-crash isn't going to go away. It could seriously damage the company if he's kept at the forefront of our operations.’

But Joseph simply became more impatient.

‘As I said before – I have every faith that John had nothing to do with the incident. Besides, making changes now would send completely the wrong signal. It would look like I'd already made my decision about his guilt.’

‘Always the favourite, huh? No matter what I do, no matter what he does?’

Joseph looked sharply at Alex. ‘This isn't about favourites, Alex. It's about a shared vision for our company and the right accords with our partners. Something which no doubt in time you'll learn too.’

Alex nodded solemnly. ‘I daresay I will.’

His father’s gaze stayed on him for a moment, as if unsure whether Alex was being sarcastic.

‘Yes, well. I’m glad we finally got that clear.’

   ‘Me too.’ Alex smiled tightly. ‘So is that your last word on the subject?’

Alex made as if the answer was important to him. He steadily held his father’s gaze while with one hand he surreptitiously detached the flow-buffer on his father's plasma line and replaced it with another – full of air.

‘Yes... yes, it is,’ Joseph said gruffly, the insistence striking him as odd.

Alex watched the air move along the tube. ‘Like many other things you've said over the years – you probably have no idea the irony of that comment.’

Joseph's brow furrowed deeper – then as he followed his son’s fleeting gaze towards his feed-tube, suddenly he caught on.

‘...What
the
?’

But as he went to move, Alex leant across, pinning him down. And, one hand over his father's mouth, rode his body as the embolism hit his heart and the life ebbed from him.

Mentinck was in full flow as he held a hand out towards the final hologram.

‘But Satan's not depicted anywhere as a King of Hell, like Asmodeus or Beleth, and he's certainly no more powerful than them... So in the end what is he?’ He scanned the  class. ‘A conundrum? A cipher for the evils of all the other fallen angels?’

The class gripped in the silent awe Mentinck anticipated, he pressed remote again. ‘And the illustrations of Satan vary too: from more human-like with horns...’ He clicked up a fresh image. ‘To more gargoylish.’

Click.

‘... And the wings from bat-like to more angelic. And if you add up all these images of man conflated with gargoyles, wolves and bats – you'll get some idea where today's demon culture has stemmed from.’ Mentinck stared at the class long and hard. ‘Except, as I say, these demons are thousands of years old. And as you've now learned, are unfortunately still with us.’

ELEVEN

As Mentinck wound up the lesson, Ellis Kendell watched through the side-glass.

‘
So while that concludes the seventy-two named 'fallen angels' in Christian and Abrahamic religions – we have the demons from other religions and cultures to consider: Hindu, Aztec, Phoenician, Japanese, Slavic. Then too the factor that a number of these main fallen angels control numerous lower-ranked demons – sometimes running into 'legions'. Which, as any of you who've done Roman history will know, means five-thousand at a time.’

A collective low groan emanated from some in the classroom as they thought about the work-load ahead.

Mentinck smiled tightly back. ‘Don't worry. That's not for today. We'll get to that in future lessons. That’s it for now.’

Ellis walked in, one hand held up as some of the class started to shift.  

‘Now tomorrow with Professor Mentinck there'll be some practical exercises – which I'll be joining you for.’

Glances exchanged around the classroom at just what 'practical' might mean.

‘Meanwhile, some of my men have phoned your families with the cover story about your condition, hemeralopia, and left them a clinic help-line number.’ Ellis took a fresh breath as a faint hubbub rose from the class. ‘Also a few here I need to have a word with.’

A quick scan which settled on a few people in the room. Ryan felt a twinge of concern as he realized he was one of them.

Ryan got the anticipated call from his father an hour after he got home that night.
Mistaken identity mix-up was the cover-story for the hotel commotion the day before. One of Ellis Kendell’s team posing as a police officer had earlier phoned his father, Rob, to explain, but still after ten minutes of Ryan filling in his side of Kendell’s pre-scripted events, his father asked again:

‘And you’re sure you’re okay?’

‘Yeah. Not even a bruise. Just a bit shaken, that’s all.’

Silence for a second, then: ‘But I understand from your mom that you’ve been in the wars in other ways.’

Ryan gave the details of his fake condition exactly as Ellis had laid it out for them: not making too light of it, but not over-worrying either.

‘
Hemeralopia, you say?’ his father confirmed.

‘Yeah.’

His mother Kate approached in the background
at that moment, looking on silently. Thoughtful.

‘And it's just an affliction to
bright light? It doesn't affect your sight in other ways?
’

‘No, apparently not. With the right
treatment, my sight should stay
pretty much twenty-twenty.’

   ‘I see.’

Ryan looked round at his mother. ‘Look, dad – I'd better go. Mom's here now and I should...’

‘Yeah, okay.
Okay
. Catch you later.’

They hung up. Kate Lorimer's nerves looked ragged with this new dilemma, her face heavy with concern.

‘Are you sure that's what they said? You won't be affected in any other

way?’ Her eyes darted for a moment, as if not willing to settle on the word. ‘You're... you're not going to go blind?’

‘No, mom. I'm not. That's what the treatment's for.’ He touched his sunglasses. ‘... and the glasses.’

Kate Lorimer nodded thoughtfully. But Ryan could see she still looked unsettled.

‘But you can check out the program at this clinic, if you like. Put your mind at ease.’

Kate shook her head after a moment, forced a tight smile. ‘No, no. It's okay. It sounds like you're in good hands.’

Mrs Werner was leafing frantically through a medical dictionary, muttering to herself as Jessica looked on.

‘Hemeralopia... hemeralopia. Right.
Right
.’ She stabbed a finger at the page, falling silent for a moment as she read. She looked up at Jessica.

‘I think I should call Doctor Morgensen. Get a second opinion.’

Jessica sighed. ‘That's not necessary, mom. This clinic has got everything under control. And, after all, they
are
the specialists.’

Jessica was distracted by a noise from the kitchen. Looking through from the lounge, she got a glimpse of Ben pouring a glass of Coke for himself. She hadn't heard him before. How long had he been there, possibly listening in? Jessica looked back at her mom, smiled tautly.

‘And you can go along if you like, get their account first hand. Like they say, with their treatment, I'm not going to go blind or anything.’

Her mom appeared to sway, but then as she put the medical dictionary back on the side table, her doubts resurged.

‘But that's how it starts, doesn't it? They tell you it's one thing one day, then the next...’ Mrs Werner suddenly stopped herself, as if realizing she was about to say too much and let the secret out the bag.

Jessica looked away uncomfortably, not wanting her mother to guess that she already knew that secret. Her mother gave a pained smile.

‘Call me a worrying-for-nothing fool – but I'd still feel a lot more settled if Dr Morgensen took a look at you too. He's been a good family doctor to us.’ Mrs Werner reached to Jessica, gently clutched her hand. ‘Would you do that for me, Jessie?’

Jessica closed her eyes for a moment, nodded.

‘Yes, I’ll do that, mom. Just for you.’

The front doorbell rang the next morning and Jessica went to answer it.

Their usual
UPS
delivery man was standing there with a small parcel.

‘Package for Mrs Werner.’ He held out an electronic signing pad. ‘If you could sign there please.’

‘Yeah... sure. Thanks.’

Jessica signed, but as she went to hand the electronic pad back, he was suddenly different – his body transformed to the writhing sea of gargoyle faces on Mentinck's holo-pod the other day.

Jessica recoiled with a gasp – but he was too quick, he reached out and gripped her. And as she struggled frantically, her arm went clean through the dark slime between those faces.

Suddenly drawn into that darkness, she found herself writhing through the slimy labyrinth of gargoyle faces and skulls. Beyond the first row, an endless sea of skulls and horrific faces appeared to stretch into the distance. She could feel the slime gelling them sticky against her skin, feel it clogging her throat, taking her breath away.

Jessica sat up with a jolt, breathless, eyes adjusting in the darkness of her bedroom. And thankfully a soothing voice was there too:

‘Don't worry, you're not alone...
you're not alone
.’

She looked to one side and it was Ellis Kendell, reaching one hand towards her. She squinted, trying to make sense of it. What
was he doing here
?

And as she saw a writhing demon apparition swirling in his body too, this time she woke up for real, gasping heavily.

She reached for the inhaler on her side table.

The sun attempted to break through a weak cloud cover as the priest recited to the small gathering by the graveside.

‘...Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. In sure and certain hope of the Resurrection into eternal life – we commit to you, Our Lord, our beloved brother, Joseph.’