Ghost of Doors (City of Doors) (20 page)

“Like they stopped us? SUN doesn’t have many members left anymore. What if simply no one stopped him?” It was true. SUN HQ became more and more deserted with each passing day.

"He wouldn't have come the way we did. He would have gone through the front door."

"How do you know that? What if someone is helping him?"

Like Johnny
, Wolfgang thought. Would Johnny help his twin? Maybe accidentally, thinking he was Wolfgang, or on purpose, wanting Wolfgang dead. He shuddered involuntarily and rubbed his arms, pretending it was from the cold. “He would have to fight my dad. Dad wouldn’t be fooled.”

Marie’s eyes rolled upward to the ceiling with an annoyance that she didn’t even try to disguise. “It’s not that hard. I pretend to be you all the time.”

Wolfgang was more than a little surprised at that. “Really?”

She shrugged. “You’ve seen me do it.”

She was right. She did it often to confuse people who were attacking him, and it happened so fast, they never seemed to have enough time to realize their mistake. She didn’t have a soul, sure, but that wasn’t evident at first—at least, it didn’t seem to matter. Wolfgang didn’t know what his soul looked like of course, but he figured it wasn’t something immediately noticeable and instead something that monsters could feel out, the way that Wolfgang could see through some glamours if he really concentrated. “Right. Then you three wait here. But I’m going to get some answers.”

Wolfgang pushed the big double doors and went inside.

The laboratory felt unusually cold. Throughout the course of a day, his father was usually so active working and developing his technologies that the room, in spite of its vast size, became quite warm, but today it felt icy, abandoned, dead. Wolfgang swallowed hard and strode in, more than a little worried at what he might find. He plunged himself into the large, wide room with no windows and nothing but stone walls and tables all around, black-surfaced tables that gleamed with the lights that hung overhead like little pools on stilts. "Stop!" barked a voice across the dark laboratory. "Who are you? Where are you going?"

Wolfgang searched for the source of the voice, and, finding none, assumed he was being watched. "I'm looking for my father," he said.

"Like I said," the voice barked authoritatively, "Who are you? Answer me or I promise you, it won't be pretty." A quiet clicking grew louder and louder. Almost like a clock, but it sped up instead of being constant. The clicking grew steadily nearer and Wolfgang realized that the source would soon appear in front of him. He drew out the small knife his father gave him and held it threateningly aloft. A tiny dog click-clacked on tiny claws to stand before him. Its long-flowing hair held a myriad of reds, scarlet to amber, and it shimmered like bright fish scales at twilight in the dim light of the lab. Two little gold-capped fangs protruded from his underbite, and his dark eyes reflected gold, masking their true color. Wolfgang forgot his purpose for a moment and thought about rifling through his pockets for a biscuit. There was a feeling of peace from the little thing, and it was all he could do to resist the urge to pat its head. "This is the last time," the tiny dog spoke. "Tell me who you are or you're gonna feel it." The dog's hair began to blow by an unseen wind that spun hot and wide, hurricane-like from beneath his feet, if hurricanes were made of fire. Wolfgang could see a hot spot forming underneath the tiny dog, like a well of power, burning red like the eye of a storm at his tiny, clawed feet.

"Wolfgang," he said finally. "My name is Wolfgang. My father was—is—Markus Schäfer, a scientist for SUN."

The tiny dog cocked an ear. "Was or is?"

"Is," Wolfgang clarified. "Been a long night for me."

"Tell me about it," the tiny dog said. "I've had to work double shifts two days in a row. Some people always seem to call in sick, if you know what I mean," he said. The tiny ring of fire below the hellish Yorkshire terrier died down to a warm glow as he spoke. "And how can a unicorn be sick, anyway? Don't they cure sickness or something?"

"I...don't know," Wolfgang replied after giving more thought to the idea than he would have liked.

"Anyway, your dad—I think I heard of him. You got anything to prove you are who you say you are?"

He took out his father's Ausweis, the one he'd found in the woods, and handed it to the dog. The little animal took it in his teeth. "Wha' 'm I s'posed t' do wif dis?" he asked, not without spitting.

"Read it?" Wolfgang suggested.

The tiny dog snarled and spoke again out of the corner of his mouth. "Wash wif you, Mac?" he said, card flying from his mouth to the stone floor. "Dogs can't read."

Wolfgang slapped his hand to his face and massaged his temples for a moment. "OK, how am I supposed to prove I am who I say I am, again?"

"Don't know," the watchdog barked. "The burden of proof lies with you, pal.
Ipso, facto
. I'm the one asking questions and taking names."

Marie appeared beside Wolfgang then, splashing out of the empty space like a mermaid from the water. "Jees, Louise!" yelped the watchdog. His hair exploded with a fiery burst around him, consumed by the well of flames that opened up under his feet.

"Hi there, Le Ying," said Marie as her hair drifted slowly to her shoulders with the help of gravity.

"Hiya, Marie," the tiny dog replied. The pyrotechnics faded and the dog's hair swung around him, relaxing into hues of red and gold. "Glad to see you. This guy's got me playing card games."

"This guy's my best friend," Marie explained. "He's looking for Markus Schäfer, but if he's not here, he'd like to see Simone. Oh, and Wolfgang, this is Le Ying, Guard Captain and Foo Dog 5th rank."

The tiny dog bowed with his front legs. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," Wolfgang said. Simone. What a fantastic idea. Why hadn't he thought of that? Wolfgang envied the craftiness of Marie's mind not for the first nor last time. Simone was the one person who might know something about Doktor Markus Schäfer, his life's work, and therefore, perhaps, his death. Even in as haphazard an organization as SUN, people had to report to higher ups or there would be total chaos. Simone was one such higher up, had been here as long as Wolfgang could remember, and his father reported to her directly and often. She better than anyone would know what happened to the real Markus Schäfer. The thought of her intentionally replacing his father with an impostor after his death began to boil his blood, since it seemed to him extremely likely that she had. After all, someone did.

"Is Simone here?" Marie asked.

"Yeah, she's here," Le Ying said. "Burning the midnight oil, as it were." He looked pointedly at Wolfgang. "Listen, next time you want to see somebody, be direct, would you? I got a lot to patrol, and I'm always short."

"We can see that," Marie said.

The foo dog growled, albeit playfully, Wolfgang was sure. Wolfgang picked up his father's Ausweis from the floor. "I'm telling you, Marie," the dog said as he led them through the lab into a hall, "things are getting tougher and tougher. If we don't get some new blood soon, we're going to be seriously outnumbered." His little red, round eyes searched Wolfgang up and down as he trotted along. "Hey, what about you? You look like a strapping young whelp."

He didn't want to explain his plans to the dog, so instead he said, "I'll think about it." Who could he trust anymore? He had no way to tell.

The dog wagged his tail. "Convince him, Marie."

"I’ve been trying."

Le Ying led them to a door at the end of the hall and rapped upon it with his claws. "Frau Simone, you in there? I got a visitor for you."

"Tell them I'm busy," came the raspy voice from behind the door. Wolfgang pushed past the little dog and shoved at the door, trying to break it open with a well-placed kick beside its lock.

"It's got a handle," Le Ying said.

Wolfgang looked down at him and snarled. "Simone!" he shouted. "I need to speak with you, now." His rage poured into his voice, having no other outlet. He wanted to scream, but he knew if he lost all control he could forget ever seeing her, and he had to know what she knew, what she was keeping from him.

"Who is that?" she shouted back.

"Wolfgang Schäfer," he said. "Doktor Markus Schäfer's son."

"I said I don't have time," he heard he say. "Especially for you." Wolfgang turned the handle and shoved again at the door. This time it opened a few inches, then shut with a bang.

"Simone!" Wolfgang raged, but he knew those inches were enough. Marie was no longer beside him, and he was sure what she'd done: Slipped through the door to confront Simone for him. Sure enough, moments later, they heard a cry.

"What? What are you doing here? I didn't..." He couldn't hear the other half of the conversation muffled as it was, but he was sure that it involved a knife, most likely to the throat.

"Yes, yes, okay. I'll see him. Just put that down. Really." Simone sounded more annoyed than scared which Wolfgang figured would be the case, but at least she knew they meant business. In fact, Wolfgang wasn't even sure that a knife could penetrate her thick skin. The sphynx that was Simone sat in a room with books in shelved on every wall, and stacked in every available place. Marie was, for the moment, nowhere to be seen, but Wolfgang knew she wouldn't just leave. A cup of tea sat as yet untouched on the desk, and tremors wobbled its surface every few moments as one of her great forepaws rapped upon her desk. She wore a necklace that looked as if an octopus had laid its chain of eggs around her neck. She waved the foo dog away, adding, "It's okay, Le Ying, you can go," as little claws clambered out of the room.

"Thanks for seeing me," he said while glaring at the sphynx.

"Look, I haven't got all night," she growled.

“Day,” he said. "I want to talk about my father."

"Day," she said, sighing. "What about him?"

He didn't want to explain everything to her. He didn't trust her. "I believe that my father is not who he says he is."

She took off her reading glasses and let them fall to hang from the gold chain around her neck. "What do you mean? A spy?" She leaned forward on massive forepaws, making the desk creak with stress. She lowered her voice. "A spy has taken his place?"

Wolfgang stared at her blankly for a moment. He hadn't expected this. Was she bluffing? Didn't she know what he was talking about? If she didn't replace him, who did?

"No," he said finally. "Well, sort of. Maybe," he reasoned. "I mean, my father is not the person I thought he was."

"Hm. We all realize that at your age," Simone replied, her long tail swishing as she stretched out her wings which reached the tops of the book cases. The light that flashed in her eyes made him suddenly realize that he may have put his replacement father—whoever it was—in danger, and Wolfgang wasn't so sure that was deserved. He began to think that perhaps this was a mistake. But he had to find out the truth; there was no way he could live with the things the way they were now, knowing what he knew. "If that makes him a spy, then, yeah, maybe he is. But he is not this person..." and he handed the Ausweis he had found in the forest to her. She gripped the tiny card in elegant talons and drew her glasses with the other hand back up to her face.

"And who is this?" she asked, scanning the card slowly. Wolfgang watched the movement of her amber eyes as they shifted right to left, right to left.

"See there," Wolfgang said. "My father...my father's name, my real father's picture."

Satisfied for the moment, she looked up. "Where did you get this?" she asked, peering over her glasses at him.

"This is from the other world, the world I was born in."
The world I belong to
, he thought.

"So then how," she asked, letting her glasses fall again, "did you get this?"

"Does that matter?" he replied. "The point is, I have this, and it's real. So, what I want to know is, who is the man who says he is my father?"

Simone leaned back then, the desk groaning with pleasure at the release. But the chair, oh, the poor chair, creaked in agony. "I am afraid," she said deliberately, "that we need more to go on than just this card. Do you have any other evidence?"

Just then, the door flew open. Le Ying had returned and trotted jauntily back into the room, a pair of large stone gargoyles on either side. Wolfgang’s hands became fists. So this chat was merely to get him to let his guard down while back up was brought in. He’d never spent time in the dungeon prison, but he supposed he would soon find out what it was like. Le Ying trotted over to Simone and whispered in her ear. Her eyes grew wide. Bounding off the desk, the tiny dog spoke with Wolfgang next. "Come with us," he said.

"Where're we going?"

"The Lady wants to speak with you."

"Look, I don't want any trouble. I just want a few answers."

"If anyone's got answers," Le Ying said, "it's Lady Welt."

Chapter 15

T
HIS PART OF THE HQ
was much darker and deeper than the rest. Wolfgang and his escorts descended several staircases which led them to a catacomb. It didn't smell of death or decay so much as fresh water running through deep caverns, as if they had descended into catacombs forged from existing caves. They passed by lights and marks upon the walls that Wolfgang guessed must serve as some sort of defensive measure; perhaps wards to keep away members of MOON or other, more powerful entities who might find this place by accident or for a sinister purpose. Through one series of great doors and then another, they finally entered a large underground chamber where some sort of pale light glowed from above, mimicking the moon, and various faeries and sprites flitted about from bloom-like mushroom to mushroom. Sitting upon a bench on one side of this garden was a delicate figure in layers of light, ornate robes. Wolfgang walked as lightly and quietly as possible upon the stones and moss so as not to disturb the reverence that she and her garden demanded. The gargoyles halted at the entrance and came no further, while Le Ying charged ahead, looking like a fiery toy, a plaything, in a maiden's garden. The girl turned to face the dog, and Wolfgang saw her for the first time: Her skin was a silk mask, flawless and pure. Her eyes were purple-blue like the sky before twilight and so intense that he could see their color from where he waited a reverent distance away. And the braided hair that had slipped from the robes were golden cords woven by the hands of the most skilled weavers. Wolfgang had always thought that Marie, one of the true fair folk, was beautiful in her glamour, like an angel. This young woman, fresh and new as a spring morning at the dawn of time, was a goddess.