Rivers of Fire (Atherton, Book 2) (15 page)

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Edgar came around a last one. He entered a vast room that took his breath away.

The room was shaped like a giant rectangle, and throughout it were columns, each extending ten feet wide, filled with books, thousands upon thousands of books. The light on the floor had grown more yellow, almost white, glowing from behind cloudy, thick glass. But in this room, the floor was covered in numbers--five-digit numbers, scrawled wildly all over the immense floor before Edgar. Light from below shone straight through the numbers in the floor and their shadows struck the ceiling. The ceiling was lower here, only a foot or two over Dr. Kincaid's head, and it was white like the stone used to make Mead's Head. Edgar gazed above him at the countless rows of five numbers, eerie in their crudeness and random shape and size, that filled every part of the ceiling.

"What is this place?" said Sir William. "It looks like the home of a lunatic."

"How right you are," said Dr. Kincaid. "As Edgar could tell you, all of these numbers unlock something different in Dr. Harding's brain. Each one hides an invention, a process. These numbers are the keys that unlock the mysteries of Atherton, but only one person can use them."

Along the walls of the room there were stone tables and instruments Edgar could not understand. Lord Phineus stood facing away from them, gazing at something on one of the tables. Sir William and Vincent were directly behind Lord Phineus, watching for any sudden movements.

"Where's Dr. Harding?" said Edgar. Samuel and Isabel were

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standing nearby, listening for an answer. The three of them thought maybe Dr. Harding was hidden behind one of the columns, or perhaps he was dead, left alone for too long in this madhouse of a laboratory. They were very curious to observe him.

Dr. Kincaid looked at all three of the children, smiled awkwardly, and then pointed toward Lord Phineus. "He is there, of course."

"Where? I don't see him," said Isabel. But Edgar had already put two and two together. He looked at Lord Phineus who was tinkering with something at the table.

"Lord Phineus and Dr. Harding are one and the same," said Edgar. "How can that be?"

Dr. Kincaid nearly laughed. "Could it be any other way?"

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***

CHAPTER 18 UNLOCKING DR HARDING'S BRAIN

"You can't have him back," said Lord Phineus, his voice creeping into the room with a familiar, maddening tone. "His mind is gone. It belongs to me now."

Dr. Kincaid dropped to one knee and spoke to Isabel, Samuel, and Edgar as if they were younger than they really were.

"I must talk to him alone," he said to them. "You may look around and touch the books, but don't play with the things on the stone tables, and don't wander off too far."

Samuel went immediately to the columns of books, while Isabel and Edgar walked past the first of many tables to gaze at the tools and strange objects. They were lost in a world of someone else's making. There were containers of dirt and rocks and seeds. There were models of Atherton at various stages carved from wood and clay and drawings on countless pieces of paper.

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Many of the drawings and models were of things that looked frightening: weird plants and trees, winged creatures, Cleaners. Soon Isabel and Edgar drifted apart, each compelled to look in different directions of the vast laboratory.

Dr. Kincaid advanced across the room and stood with Vincent and Sir William. "Leave me with him," he said. "There are things he and I need to discuss."

Sir William began to protest, but Vincent knew better. He guided Samuel's father several steps away, far enough to give the two men of science some space, but near enough that they could pounce on Lord Phineus if necessary.

Dr. Kincaid had no fear of Lord Phineus and came very near to him. But Lord Phineus lurched back against the stone table as if he were trying to keep away from someone who could hurt him.

"Something has happened to the man who built this place," said Dr. Kincaid. "Something that made him lock the yellow door so that he could not be found."

"Stop talking to me," said Lord Phineus. He clapped his hands over his ears. "You can't have him back! Don't you see? There are things he can't know, things that will drive him mad!"

"What would make him lock the door?" repeated Dr. Kincaid, pulling as he often did on his drooping ear. "He burned all the journals and with them all the numbers. But he could not burn the numbers in this room, could he?"

Lord Phineus had been averting his eyes from the host of shadowy numbers that hovered like dark clouds above him.

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And yet he had not been able to avoid them. There were too many. The numbers, Mead's Head come to life in the form of Dr. Kincaid, the bite from the Crat--all these things were starting to break Lord Phineus wide open, revealing another man.

"Why don't you look at the ceiling, Dr. Harding?"

"Stop talking to me!" said Lord Phineus. "Atherton is mine and mine alone. You can't have it back!"

"Oh, but I can, and I will," vowed Dr. Kincaid. And then he began reading the numbers on the ceiling out loud, first in a whisper and then a dull voice, and finally, he was yelling the numbers with all his might.

"54329.21395.44350.88604!56123!43986!"

"Dr. Kincaid, that's enough!" cried Vincent, afraid of pushing too hard and destroying Dr. Harding, along with everything else on Atherton. "He's not unbreakable. He's still a man."

Lord Phineus had sagged closer and closer to the floor as each number cut deeper through the black fog surrounding his mind. The fog had cleared little by little at the sound of every number, revealing trap door after trap door opening into knowledge he'd hidden away.

But Vincent was right, Dr. Kincaid had to stop, for some of those doors held dense pockets of information that even a brilliant mind could barely contain. Dr. Harding's reentry into the world was happening much too fast, and it threatened to kill the already weakened man who lay slumped on the floor in front of Dr. Kincaid.

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Vincent lifted Lord Phineus's head, holding him steady. He appeared to be unconscious and he was pale as a ghost. "You've gone too far," said Vincent, looking at Dr. Kincaid. "He's no good to us if we drive him insane."

But Dr. Kincaid was unmoved. He reached his hand back and slapped Lord Phineus hard on the face, then held him by the chin and said his true name with untold authority.

"You are Dr. Maximus Harding, and you will come out!"

Lord Phineus opened his bloodshot eyes and stared at the man before him. He coughed and touched his face where he'd been hit. And then he spoke.

"What have you done, Dr. Kincaid?"

"I've woken you up," said Dr. Kincaid with a smile. "It's so very good to see you."

Dr. Harding shook his head and rubbed his eyes as though he'd been sleeping for a year, then he rose to his feet with great effort. Everything about him was changed. He was still sick -- so very, very sick--but he was no longer Lord Phineus. His expression had always been cruel even in his kindest moments, but the cruelty had vanished, replaced by solemn regret, something that didn't belong on the face of Lord Phineus.

"Why, Maximus? Why did you do this?" asked Dr. Kincaid.

"Because of you," said Dr. Harding. He leaned heavily against the stone table at his back. "And the boy."

Dr. Kincaid suddenly wished he could be alone with Dr. Harding. He didn't want Vincent or anyone else to hear about this most delicate part of their complicated history.

Dr. Harding seemed to be getting a little of his strength

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back. He rubbed the sweat out of his eyes and his expression grew stern. "After everything I did for you," he said. "For
them!"

Them,
Dr. Kincaid knew, were the rulers of the Dark Planet who had demanded so much. It was true. Dr. Harding had been terribly used, especially near the end.

"I didn't intend for things to develop as they did," admitted Dr. Kincaid.

"You were supposed to protect me," said Dr. Harding, the words coming out like those of a young boy who'd been betrayed. He scratched fiercely at his leg, and when his hand came back out from beneath his robe, it was covered in blood.

Dr. Kincaid felt ashamed. The boy genius he had found so long ago was terribly injured in every way a man could be. Mind, body, and spirit were broken, and it was Dr. Kincaid's fault.

"I didn't know they would use you that way," said Dr. Kincaid. "I told them not to push you so hard, to let you rest. But they wouldn't listen. I told them even a brilliant mind can be broken if it's not cared for.
Especially
a brilliant mind."

"Why did you do it?" asked Dr. Harding. He was back at the topic of the boy, Dr. Kincaid could tell, and he tried to veer him off the subject.

"What's going to happen to Atherton?"

"Where is the boy?" demanded Dr. Harding. He was unmoved in his resolve to discuss the matter.

"How do we overcome the Cleaners?" shouted Dr. Kincaid. "You must tell me, or everyone will perish!"

There was a drawn-out silence. Dr. Harding leaned against the stone table for support.

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[Image: The stone tables.]

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He was growing weaker, though his mind was refreshed. He looked at the ceiling, rolling equations over in his mind and thinking of all that he had created. He was a gentle man, nothing like Lord Phineus, and he loved the feeling of his mind filling with knowledge.

"The Crat have bitten me, haven't they?" asked Dr. Harding, coming to a number that opened his mind and showed him how he had created the Crat. Dr. Kincaid nodded silently, wishing it were not true.

"Well, then," continued Dr. Harding. A quiet understanding had overtaken him. "It's only a matter of time. You know that."

Suddenly, there came the sound of shouting from Samuel and Isabel, who were running through the laboratory, darting back and forth between columns. The big room was full of echoes and it wasn't until the two were very near that they could be understood.

"He's been taken!" cried Isabel. She was in a high state of panic. "Edgar's been taken!"

"What do you mean, taken?" said Vincent. It seemed impossible. He hadn't watched carefully because the yellow door was shut tight and locked. No one else could come in, or so he'd thought.

"Taken!" repeated Isabel. "I tried to stop him, but he was too big."

"Stop who? What do you mean, Isabel?"

"We shouldn't have left him alone, but Samuel wanted to

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show me the books." Isabel couldn't bring herself to say what had happened. The mere thought of it frightened her beyond reason.

"Sir Emerik!" cried Samuel. "He came down and took Edgar."

"Where have they gone?" asked Dr. Kincaid, certain of the answer.

"Back into Mead's Hollow," said Isabel. Her voice was shaky and quiet. "We followed to the ladder, but Sir Emerik told us he would hurt Edgar if we tried to stop him or cried out for you."

"I should have killed that man when I had the chance," said Vincent, feeling as if he'd failed in his duty. "I'll kill him this time." He was already starting for the orange corridor when the determined voice of Dr. Harding stopped him. No, you won t.

Dr. Harding was standing up straight again. He seemed to have gathered a new strength at the sound of Edgar's name as he shared a bit of surprising information with everyone in the room.

"Mead's Hollow will soon fill with water. After that, there's no way out of the Highlands."

"You might be surprised," said Vincent, thinking of Edgar's unmatched climbing skills.

Dr. Harding stared at Dr. Kincaid, who had once been like a father to him. He'd brought the full measure of Dr. Harding's brilliance into use to save the Dark Planet. But ultimately Dr. Harding had failed everyone. He hadn't left his life behind and become Lord Phineus because of the crushing weight of so

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much knowledge or the relentless pressure from those who needed him to succeed. These things played a role in his evolving insanity, but there was something else, something taken from him, that had finally broken him.

"I'm only going to live a few more hours," said Dr. Harding. "I want to see my boy on Atherton."

"He doesn't belong to you!" cried Dr. Kincaid. "He's not yours to save!"

"And neither does he belong to you," said Dr. Harding. His voice was calm but direct.

Vincent moved between the two men, sensing a showdown about to erupt, and he spoke the truth of the matter.

"Edgar doesn't belong to either one of you. He belongs to Atherton."

Samuel and Isabel looked on, confused and frightened by everything they were hearing.

"As far as I'm concerned he belongs to the grove, and someone needs to get him back." It was Isabel, and she was angry. "If one of you doesn't go, I will. I won't let Sir Emerik take him. I won't!"

Isabel's words echoed around the stone pillars and the room fell silent.

"Nine three four five two," said Dr. Harding. "That one tells me a lot. It tells me how to escape the Cleaners."

He pointed to a far corner of the room where the numbers could hardly be seen.

"Eight seven four nine one," he said. "That one opens a very big door to a vast room in my mind. In there I see what I