Authors: George Earl Parker
She tugged at the form-fitting jacket she’d designed herself and had hand-tailored in Soho, and admired her reflection in the mirrored glass door as she crossed the sidewalk. The doorman inside knew her routine and her reputation, so he timed the opening of the door just a split second before she needed to step inside. He valued his job, and he knew from the way she breezed past him without a hint of recognition that he would get to keep it for another day.
Taking a key from her purse she entered the elevator, inserted it into the security lock, pressed the button for the penthouse and stood back as it took off at high speed.
“How are we doing, Miss Moon?” Angstrom’s voice crackled over a small speaker.
“Watching television again?” she asked, smiling assuredly up at a tiny video camera.
“I’m always watching,” he replied, “wherever you are!”
It gave her goose bumps when he talked to her that way. He was a powerful man who seized what he wanted without regard for the consequences; it was an aphrodisiac she found hard to resist.
The elevator door slid open and Miss Moon stepped out gracefully, her dark eyes sparkling as she moved toward him. “We found him in an asylum near Rochester,” she said matter-of-factly, as she approached his desk.
“Excellent news!” he rejoined excitedly. “Now we can begin; take me to him.”
She took hold of his wheelchair, and leaned over to release the break. He felt her hot breath on his neck, and smelled her heady perfume. She reminded him of his mother; she had the same icy-cold strength and steel-sharp intellect. He made a mental note to send her some flowers, and he looked forward to the day he would be whole again as she pushed him smoothly toward the elevator.
***
Doctor Aaron Leitz never knew what hit him. One moment he was running a complex series of calculations in his mind, and the next moment—BAM—he was running naked down the street screaming at the top of his lungs while being chased by the cops. After that, everything was foggy, and now he was sitting in the corner of a padded cell wrapped up in a straightjacket.
He could see out of his eyes, but he felt like he was looking down a long tunnel. The room was dark; there was one small window high up on the wall through which lightning would flash every so often, followed by the sound of thunder that boomed and shook him to the core. Each time it happened he threw back his head and howled like a wolf, and even though he knew this was not proper behavior, he found he could not stop himself, no matter how hard he tried.
The massive thunderstorm had rolled in off the Atlantic Ocean and struck with a ferocity reserved solely for breaking the stifling summer heat waves that often hold New York and its environs hostage for days at a time. As the limousine plowed through the deluge, Kurt Angstrom imagined that the very elements of nature had gotten wind of his plan and were voicing their extreme displeasure at his arrogance. But no matter; nothing could stop him now. He had control of his half brother’s mind, a mind that would soon unlock the very secrets of the universe and hand them to him for safekeeping.
***
Turning with a splash into a dilapidated, gothic style gateway, the limousine wound its way up the driveway of a dark, ugly house on top of a hill and slid to a halt opposite the front door. Hunter climbed out and raised an umbrella over Miss Moon as she lifted Kurt Angstrom into his wheelchair. He wondered what the urgency was. He’d seen the sign that stated this was an asylum when they turned into the driveway, but surely they could have waited until the storm passed before setting out on this fool’s errand. Still, he covered them with the umbrella as best he could as they negotiated the gravel path to the front door, rang the bell and waited.
***
The unmistakable sound of iron door bolts being drawn came from inside, and the large, ornately carved oak portal opened with a creak. A weathered face peered out through the crack illuminated by a lantern, and bright eyes shone out from beneath bushy brows. “You people are out late, aren’t you? Such an unpleasant night too. Power’s gone, of course; always happens when these storms blow through. Now then, what can I do for you?”
“I’m here to see my brother, Doctor Aaron Leitz,” Kurt Angstrom replied.
The lantern glowed and flickered over Angstrom’s face. “Ooohh! Sorry, no can do! Nobody in or out between the hours of sunset and sunrise. Strange policy when you think about it. But then, that’s the way it is. Short of an emergency, of course, which sometimes happens; not often though.”
“Are you a doctor?” Angstrom asked, pushing his wheelchair closer to the door.
“My goodness no, sir, I’m the night watchman. Nothing much happens at night, and the doctors are all on call.”
“What is your name?”
“Mine? Ted, sir, just Ted. It was Edward when I was born but over the years it got shorter, and now it’s just Ted,” he smiled.
Angstrom pushed himself even closer and looked up into the man’s face. “You seem to enjoy the sound of your own voice, Ted, am I correct in my assumption?”
“You are, sir. The wife often refers to me as a bit of a raconteur, but I think of myself as a more spontaneous wit.”
“You are attached to your tongue then?” Angstrom inquired.
“I’m sorry, sir?” Ted asked, wondering if he had heard correctly.
“Put it this way; if you were given a choice between losing your tongue,” Angstrom said with an underlying hint of menace, “or earning a thousand dollars, which one would you choose?”
Ted stared at him, taken aback by the obvious danger. “Well, that is a curious question; let me think about it for a moment.”
As he thought, the stocky, well-muscled Mr. Hunter stepped forward menacingly, and removed a knife from his pocket, from which the blade sprang with a dull metallic snap.
Ted gazed at the gleaming point. “Yes, I think I see what you mean. Why don’t you come in out of the rain? Such an inhospitable evening, don’t you think?”
***
Deep in his delusion, Aaron Leitz had found a place of solitude where he could examine exactly what it was that he wanted from life. He was cursed with the burden of creativity; his mind was always seeking, but never really finding satisfaction. He had never completed anything, and the burden of creativity dictates that the measure of a successful life is in leaving something behind that lives long after you have ceased to exist.
As a child he had always known with certainty that he had a destiny preordained by fate. He was destined to change the world; there was no other course for him. So what was he doing here? It seemed that his life was over; he was stark raving mad, and what made it even worse was that he knew it. He had always imagined that when people went out of their minds, it was all over. So what was this tiny sanctuary in his mind where he could be lucid? Then it hit him like a ton of bricks; it was a sign—all great genius comes to a crossroads on the highway of life. It was what happened after this wakeup call that mattered.
The door swung open, and through the tunnel of his vision he saw his half brother wheel himself into the tiny room and stop in front of him.
“Brother, I have come for you,” Angstrom said as he leaned over, unbuckled the straightjacket, and yanked it off like it was nothing.
“Is this real?” Leitz heard himself say as he cowered in the corner, “Or am I hallucinating?”
“You have a problem, and I am going to fix it for you. After all, what is family for?”
Kurt Angstrom took a box from the pocket of his dark overcoat and opened it. From the box he produced a syringe loaded with golden liquid, and taking hold of Aaron’s arm, he gently pushed the needle into a vein. He smiled at his half brother. “This will fix you up as good as new,” he said as he began to push the plunger.
As Leitz watched, it seemed like the liquid in the syringe glowed like a thousand suns, and as it entered his bloodstream, he felt his madness disappearing like shadows running from the light. When the syringe was at last empty, he breathed a huge sigh of relief. He had always known his half brother was talented, but this. . .this was miraculous!
“How do you feel now?”
“Normal…I feel normal; but how did you do that?” he asked, marveling at his transition from madness to sanity.
“My peculiar gift is to ease the suffering of others,” Angstrom replied. “How I wish it were that easy to help myself.”
Aaron Leitz felt something he had never felt before…compassion for his half brother. He had always thought it sad that he was paralyzed, but then as children they had hated one another, and the situation had not improved much as they aged. But now his sibling had saved him from oblivion, a fate worse than death.
“How can I repay you for this miracle?” Aaron asked.
“By doing what you do best—concentrating on a problem until you come up with an answer.”
“But I don’t understand,” Aaron replied. “How can that help you?”
“The particular problem I have in mind will free me from this wheelchair, make you famous, and make us rich beyond our wildest dreams,” Angstrom answered.
“I’m intrigued, and I am deeply in your debt. If it’s in my power to help you, then I shall.”
Kurt Angstrom moved closer, and in a conspiratorial whisper he spoke one word. “Alchemy,” he said.
“Alchemy?” Leitz repeated quizzically.
“The alchemists of old sought an elusive substance they called the Stone of Knowledge. This substance allowed them to change base metal to gold, but far more important to me, it could extend life by eradicating disease and deformity.”
“You’re kidding,” Leitz marveled.
“No!” said Angstrom. “All of the drug companies are after this one—that’s why we must carry this out in complete secrecy.”
“I know little or nothing about alchemy!” Leitz protested.
“Nonsense, you know about atomic structure; all you have to do is work out how you can manipulate it and presto, lead becomes gold, and I become a whole person again.” Kurt Angstrom smiled.
“If it can be done, I’m the one to do it!” Leitz exclaimed. “But I’ll need a laboratory of my own design, special equipment of my own design, and most importantly, no interference.”
“Everything will be done according to your wishes,” Angstrom said. “But I have one condition; the laboratory will be hidden in a school I have started in your name.”
“A school!” Aaron Leitz was shocked. “I know less about running a school than I currently know about alchemy!”
“It will be run for you; you will be free to carry out your experiments, and nobody will dream that top secret scientific research is being carried out there.”
“Okay, have it your way,” Leitz said. “A school it shall be.” He had heard the odd horror story about alchemists in pursuit of their elusive Stone of Knowledge. It had been reported throughout history that strange catastrophic explosions had wiped many a town off the map, and the only common thread to these stories was that an alchemist had been working there at the time. He knew with certainty he could create an ATOMIC OSCILLATOR connected to a MATTER PHASE SHIFTER, and if he could just work out how to introduce a high-energy burst that would reconfigure the atomic structure and not blow it up, he would have the problem solved.
Leitz immediately began scribbling formulas and designing precision laboratory equipment that would allow him to test his hypothesis. The equipment was secretly installed in a renovated building and students were invited to join under the premise that the school saw something in them that others didn’t, with the added enticement that each student was awarded a scholarship and their education was free.
Angstrom had purchased the property when he first hatched his plan, and he had immediately begun the tedious work of turning it into a practical school building. Located in a remote area of upstate New York, the house was a rambling affair of turrets, towers, and leaded glass bay windows. In terms of style it never really seemed to make up its mind; parts of it were Gothic, others Victorian, and there were even some areas that had a distinct resemblance to Jacobean times. It was situated on a few acres of almost park-like grounds with lots of trees and shrubs, and to Angstrom this was the important aspect, because it afforded the building lots of privacy and kept what went on there far away from prying eyes.
Much ballyhoo was made of the fact that GLOBAL ELIXERS INC. had made the charitable contribution to fund the education of these youngsters, and that Doctor Aaron Leitz, renowned physicist, would be the titular head of this Academy of Educational Excellence. The parents were ecstatic; finally, education was taking a step in the right direction.
THE PARADIGM SHIFT
PRESENT DAY
The school bus began emptying itself of passengers outside the gate of The Leitz Academy of Educational Excellence. The building, nestled in amongst a plethora of horse chestnut trees, was an ivy-covered facade of turrets, towers, and leaded windows.
It had been built by an eccentric British billionaire in the late eighteen hundreds. He’d wanted to bring a little bit of the old country to the United States so he and his family wouldn’t be the least bit homesick. As a house, the place had been completely impractical; it had sweeping staircases, massive rooms, and almost all of the ground floor was an ornate ballroom built to entertain the dignitaries of the day.
As a school it was perfect, and for Doctor Leitz the ballroom made a great hiding place for his secret laboratory. He stood at the window of his private study high up in one of the towers; he had been awake for days working on the final piece of the puzzle that his half brother had posed for him. He stared at the walls, which were covered with scribbled rows of scientific formulas, and wondered if he’d succeeded. There was only one thing for him to do now: run a test. He turned back to the window and stared out at the students streaming into the building.