The Santayana Effect: Scene 8- Boston, 1770

[x-adrienne.livejournal.com]

Still trying desperately to pull herself out of this nightmare of readings, Adrienne pushed backwards on the seal's timeline, hard, to the very beginning of it. Surely at its creation she could find something to settle herself enough to disengage with the seal and end this roller coaster of nausea, confusion, and shock she was experiencing. Unsure whether this was Wyngarde's doing or Emma's, watching her friends, colleagues, and students caught up in these violent historical events would soon send her into mental overload and unconsciousness, and she had to get out before that happened, because who knew what sort of trouble Wyngarde and Astrid could cause in her unconscious mind?

She watched the seal being forged in the back room of a goldsmith's shop in a city that looked like a fledgling American colony, but she didn't seem able to stop the timeline from speeding back up instead of running at normal speed. As if she was watching a movie on fast-forward, Adrienne watched a hooded figure wearing clothes similar to the men in the time period of the American Revolution she'd just witnessed retrieve the seal, setting money on a counter for the goldsmith. As the goldsmith retrieved his payment, a knife appeared in the cloaked man's hand, culminating in the hooded man stabbing the merchant and taking both seal and gold away with him. She watched the cloaked man head for a large mansion under the cover of night, and fought to control the timeline on her own. Unsure as to what was happening- was Astrid trying to control the timeline?- Adrienne could only watch as the man entered the house.

Finally, the reading slowed to normal speed- was Emma doing something to Astrid?- and Adrienne was able to focus in on the enormous foyer of the house as the hooded figure entered. He stripped away his cloak, to reveal Doug Ramsey to her surprise. The blond haired man cleaned his dagger carefully, before tossing the handkerchief into the fire and mounting the main stairs. She watched him enter a sumptuous bedroom, richly decorated with elegant gilded furniture and heavy oil paintings. It was dominated by a massive four poster bed, and in the middle of it, surrounded by papers, was a shadowed figure, who motioned Doug forward.


"Is it done, Archimedes?"

Doug only smiled and produced the heavy seal from his pocket.

The figure held out his hand, and as he leaned forward to retrieve it, bent into the light to reveal the face of Garrison Kane. "Ah, Elijah. Masterful work as always. I'm sorry it had to be like this." The man said as he looked over the seal, obviously speaking about the slain goldsmith.

Behind both men was a massive mirror, and Adrienne could see a very different reflection than the scene before her. In Garrison's place was an old man, heavily jowled and gouty. Doug was not the slim blond figure she was seeing, but a dark haired barrel chested man, with a neatly trimmed beard and his hair gathered in a loose ponytail.

Adrienne didn't know much about the history of the Hellfire Club, but she did recognize the likeness of Sir Elias Bogan, the American Club's founder, when she saw it. But why was she seeing Garrison as Bogan? It was odd enough seeing friends, students, and colleagues looking like various figures throughout the seal's history, but Garrison Kane as the Hellfire Club's founder was simply too much oddity to swallow. Kane loathed the Hellfire Club!

Something was seriously wrong here.

And with that thought she felt Emma's presence in her mind once again, reestablishing the telepathic link. #What the fuck?!?# she basically screeched down the link. #What's going on? When did the link break?#

"Sorry?" the man with Doug's face asked. "Why?" His mouth twisted in
a hard grin. "Two people can keep a secret only if one is dead, as
the saying goes." He picked a piece of lint out from under his
fingernail with the dagger before stowing it into a well-hidden
sheath.

#It didn't break, exactly,# replied Emma, calmly. #It was over-ridden. Astrid was throwing so much noise at you, you couldn't hear me. All I was able to do was tweak the noise to make you listen to me again, instead of her. What a surprise that it was Garrison that did the trick.# Her mental tone was very dry.

Bogan sighed, with Garrison's face. "While one must do what is necessary to preserve power, enjoying it is the step across the gulf between calculation and cruelty. Elijah Reeves was a skilled artist. It is right to mourn the loss of beauty." He coughed, a wet sound, and sank back into the pillows of his bed. Despite his reputation and history, Bogan's words and home challenged the usual view of the venial power hungry miser.

#Why is Astrid still throwing anything at me?# Adrienne inquired. #Surely after everything I've shown her she knows this is the real seal. She must still be looking for that damn charter.# A thought dawned. #And the key to the location of the charter must be around this time period, since it hasn't appeared in any of the timeline leading back to this,# she mused. #So Wyngarde will know where to start looking for the charter soon.# It had to be in this scene, or some time period close to it. #Is there any way we can keep Astrid and Wyngarde from seeing the real history we're seeing?#

"Now, Archimedes, have the arrangements been made? The courts ratified the charter last night. Fools never questioned the reversion clause. Too busy salivating over the pooling of resources and congratulating themselves over finishing off Hamilton and subverting the Bank of New York." Bogan shook his head wearily, his weak actions at odds with the vitality of Kane. "Bank of the Manhattan Company indeed. Plumbers! My fortune is not to be the lodestone in that fight."

Emma caught Adrienne's attention with her mind, drew it back to the mirror, the changed reflections of Doug and Garrison. #Astrid and Wyngarde are on the other side of my magic mirror# she said. #From the beginning, they haven't been seeing what you've been seeing. I have no doubt Astrid has rather over-stated the level of her power to Wyngarde; she's never been a match for me. In brute force or subtlety. It's the problem with using consultants; they always over-promise and under-deliver.#

"All is in place," Marrs replied, accepting Bogan's rebuke without
expression. The old man could afford to mourn beauty lost, after all,
that was the reason he was kept on retainer. "The revision clause, as
you say, has gone unquestioned, and everything else is ready."

Emma's last comment had Adrienne smiling to herself, because it was just so... Emma, and when the rest of what she'd said sank in, Adrienne felt her uncertainty beginning to abate and her nerves beginning to settle. #So you can show them anything you want them to see, basically? A false location for the charter, for example?#

"Good. You are sure that the captain of the Planter is unaware of the true nature of his cargo? I trust you and your men can stop any... unpleasant manifestations of greed if they try to seize the cargo, but I would like to avoid trouble. Especially once it reaches England. My agents in Lloyds will take possession and you can wait in my city home until I arrive." Bogan struggled to raise himself up on his elbow for a moment. To see Garrison actually sickly was disconcerting. "And the charter. If all else fails, Archimedes, the charter must be delivered to Lord Hampshire at the Red Court. He'll keep it safe, incase these fools decide to ignore my orders in New York."

#Now that you're back and I don't have to worry about dropping you on your head, we can show them whatever we like. And sending Wyngarde on a wild goose chase has a certain appeal.# Emma couldn't help the amused anticipation that laced her mental voice.