Dreams of Origami (20 page)

Lacey squeezes the woman’s hand. ‘It’ll be all right, you’ll see.’

Plastic teacups still in his hands, the embarrassed constable watches Lacey retreat down the corridor.

Drew’s van is parked outside his door. Lacey’s whole being floods with relief at the thought of him being there. The road seems even longer than usual, and she forgets about the key in her bag and bangs on the door until he opens it. She almost falls inside, clinging onto him, and when he asks what’s wrong she bursts into tears.

‘I wondered how long it would take before all this got to you.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. It’s the people over the road, the ones who are always arguing. You must have heard what happened.’ But he hasn’t and Lacey has to explain it to him, including how at first she thought something
had happened to him. Then she wipes her face and blows her nose. ‘I feel such a wimp. It was that poor woman. It could easily have been us. You.’

‘Don’t be daft. I know you’re a bit off the wall sometimes, but I don’t believe you’d stick a knife in me.’

‘But that’s just it, Drew. I could. And so could you. We don’t know how this thing could affect any of us. None of us knows what we’re dealing with, not even Gideon. You’re right: it has got to me. It’s big and it’s dangerous and I’m scared, Drew. This time I’m really scared.’

Imagine iron filings sprinkled over a magnet, grouping themselves into orderly rows along lines of invisible force.

Imagine ice forming on a windowpane, an intricate, perfect pattern of feathery leaves crystallizing as moisture condenses from the air. It flows along predetermined lines, as if the design were already present but invisible, just waiting to become manifest.

Imagine nothing—no-thing. A vast universe that does not yet exist, but is filled with potential.

Imagine this emptiness becoming alive—pure Aether, capable of receiving and carrying Thought. As Thought flows through the Aether, it causes it to become differentiated into qualities, Elements, which create lines of force.

Imagine a cosmos formed from an infinite complex of potential states and conditions blended from the qualities of Fire, Water, Earth and Air, and bound together by a matrix of Aether. This is the loom upon which the threads of Space and Time are strung.

Imagine, then, physical matter, the final stage of ‘becoming’ as it begins to materialize, like wisps of cloud. But not randomly, no: more like frost forming on a windowpane, or metallic dust following
the lines of magnetic force. Matter building on the matrix. Thought becoming manifest.

Creative thought—imagination—is the greatest power in the universe.

Imagine!

Extract from
The Cosmos of Illusions
by Gideon Wakefield

I
T’S EARLY IN THE EVENING
. Gideon, Audrey and Triss are gathered with Lacey and Drew, in Drew’s cottage. It’s too crowded to be comfortable, and Lacey thinks she was right about there not being enough room for communal living.

Triss is looking a little more relaxed, thankfully. It could be the relief of getting shot of Fletcher, or perhaps the afterglow of the little white pill she took earlier. Either way, she looks more positive than she has all week, hopeful even. Triss has told them that Inspector Langthorn was apologetic, sympathetic, and as reassuring as she could reasonably be in her position. But Lacey remembers Gideon saying that he felt Matthew was not too far away and might even be found soon. If so, she doubts it will be by any police hunt.

Drew hands Gideon a beer and takes a gulp of his own. ‘Are you saying this ghost was only a three-dimensional image, like some sort of hologram?’

‘Well, the visible result is similar, although it wouldn’t have involved a laser light. Perhaps it would be more accurate to compare it to an image encoded on a computer disc, or a CD; anything that could retain a modified energy pattern.’

‘Oh, right. So what was this image recorded on, then?’ asks Drew. ‘And what made it play back?’

Lacey thinks that Drew is wavering somewhere between scepticism and outright ridicule, kept in check by a tiny pinch of curiosity. She’s sure Gideon is fully aware of Drew’s ill-disguised sarcasm, but is determined, for everyone’s sake, to treat the question seriously.

‘There are a number of theories. One school of thought maintains that all events are recorded in the aether itself. As to what caused the playback effect, any sudden surge of energy could do it; an electrical
storm, a gathering of people, an emotional disturbance, who knows? Perhaps even the fear of being in a haunted place might be enough to trigger a manifestation.’

‘Or enough to spark off someone’s imagination?’

‘Oh, Drew. Look, I know what I saw. In fact, Gideon and I saw her at the same time and we both described exactly the same woman. If it were merely suggestion, surely I would have imagined the boy Triss saw on Sunday afternoon? And it was following that business with Fletcher, only minutes after Triss had left.’ Lacey reaches out a consoling hand to Triss. ‘I’m sorry, love, but you were pretty wound up and the whole place was buzzing. Like when they say you can cut the atmosphere—well you could.’

‘All right, supposing we go along with the ghost theory, which I suppose does make some sort of sense, I still don’t understand how that ties in with all the accidents. And now you reckon it could account for people acting weirdly: Tom, Fletcher, and now the Tivertons.’

‘And we mustn’t forget all those other things,’ says Lacey. ‘The assaults and suicides. Even some of the road accidents may be connected.’

‘If there is an overload of energy warping the aetheric field, that could have any number of effects both physical and psychological.’

‘So, you think it could have caused Mrs Tiverton to attack her husband?’ Triss asks.

‘It’s very possible,’ says Gideon.

‘Could Matthew and I have been affected like that?’ says Triss. ‘I mean, do you think I could have done something to him and not remembered?’

Lacey looks at Triss, suddenly aware of the possibility; something Drew had joked about, but could it be true? The question hangs in the air, everyone thinking the same thing but afraid to speak.

At last, Gideon breaks the silence. ‘I don’t believe that’s what happened. If there had been any act of violence here, it would be imprinted on the aether. I should be able to sense it.’ The tension eases a little, despite Drew’s derisory snort.

‘You keep using the word “aether”, Gideon.’ Audrey studies her wine glass, which is nearly empty. ‘I thought that was stuff they used
to use in the operating theatre. Surely that’s not what you’re referring to, is it?’

‘No, no. Different thing altogether. I’m referring to metaphysical aether. The fifth element.’

‘Luc Besson film. Bruce Willis was in it, wasn’t he? And Milla whatsername—’

‘Drew!’ Lacey fires him a look that would blister paint. ‘If you’re not going to take this seriously—’

‘All right, all right, I’m sorry. But someone’s got to keep their feet on the ground around here, or we’ll all get carted off to join Fletcher.’

‘Yes, you’re right as usual, Drew.’ Gideon’s voice is over-steady. ‘We need to keep a level head. It would be all too easy to work on each other’s imaginations and start projecting all kinds of fantasies onto the situation.’ Gideon takes another sip of his beer. ‘But to answer Audrey’s question, aether is the prime matter of the non-material universe. Imagine it like a great sea out of which everything materializes. It permeates all levels of physical and mental existence and retains an impression of everything that has happened.’

‘Gracious, that’s a bit of a mind-blower.’ Audrey drains her glass, looking hopefully at Drew.

‘Like a permanent recording of history that can be played back?’ says Lacey. ‘The fifth element…what happened to the other four?’

‘All levels of creation are believed to arise from a blend of fire, water, air and earth.’

‘That’s all old alchemy stuff, isn’t it?’ Drew looks bewildered. ‘What about science, or don’t you believe in the twenty-first century?’

‘You may be surprised to discover how closely the modern scientist is moving towards the world of the mystic.’ There is a trace of tension creeping into Gideon’s voice. ‘In some areas it is only terminology which separates them; more a matter of semantics than beliefs.’

Lacey senses a head-on collision approaching and is looking for a change of subject. ‘What about those other things you were talking about? Ley lines?’

‘I’ve heard of those,’ says Triss. ‘In fact, Matthew was quite interested in the subject at one time.’

‘The Old Straight Track,’
says Audrey. ‘It’s a book, I’ve got a copy of it somewhere. Chap called Alfred Watkins came up with this theory about ancient tracks in the landscape.’

Drew shakes his head in mock despair. ‘OK, Audrey, so tell us about ley lines.’ He hands her the wine bottle.

Gideon nods graciously in Audrey’s direction.

‘Ley lines are one aspect of a body of ancient knowledge that deals with earth energy. They were rediscovered, or at least redefined, at the beginning of the last century. There’s lots of theories about why they exist. One of the most popular is that ancient sites—temples, stone circles, burial mounds, that sort of thing—were built on energy centres. If these sites are plotted on a map, they can be joined to form straight lines.’

‘There are several really important ones in this part of the country, aren’t there?’ Triss is suddenly animated. ‘At least, that’s what Matthew reckoned.’

‘That’s right. For example, there’s one which runs for thirteen-and-a-half miles from the ancient burial site on Wormwood Hill, through the Gog Magog giant figures, and on to Wandlebury Fort. It then cuts through Cambridge City and some of the oldest buildings, including Christ’s College, Magdalene College, and Sidney Sussex College. It also goes through the Round Church, second oldest Templar church in England, then on to Castle Hill. It goes eight miles to St Andrews church in Swavesey, which is built on the remains of a pre-Conquest church. Ends up on the site of a Benedictine priory.’

‘Remarkable, isn’t it?’ says Triss. ‘And there are chains like that all over the countryside. All over the world, in fact.’

‘Gideon, didn’t you say some of those colleges were haunted?’ asks Lacey.

‘Yes. Ghosts, UFOs, crop circles, all types of phenomena. New Age occultists believe leys are a source of mystical energy that can be tapped into, so they turn up in force. Dowsers, neo-pagans, practitioners of ritual magic—you name it, it all happens along ley lines.’

‘But surely any landmarks can be linked together like that?’ Drew protests. ‘Has anyone tried playing join the dots with public houses?’

‘Yes, that’s been tried.’

‘And?’

‘Doesn’t work.’

‘What about the schoolhouse?’ asks Lacey. ‘If there was an ancient monastery there—’

‘Matthew tried doing that,’ Triss cuts in. ‘Not that we knew about the monastery. But he tried joining Ely Cathedral and the schoolhouse, then extended the line into Cambridge to see where it went.’

‘And what was the result?’

‘The line cut through Castle Hill. It intersects with the one you just described, Audrey.’

‘And Castle Hill, as you probably know,’ says Gideon, ‘is a Norman construction built on top of a Roman fort, which, in turn, is built over a prehistoric settlement.’

‘About as old as you can get around here,’ says Drew. ‘All right, I give in. It might be more than coincidence. But if Gainsborough Street is one of these energy sites, how come the monks all up and left?’

‘That’s what I’d like to know, too.’ Gideon turns to Audrey. ‘Your trip to Ely—you say you didn’t get anything much from that letter?’

‘Well, as I said, there wasn’t much of it left. Scraps of sentences really. I wasn’t allowed to touch it, of course, and in any case it was in Latin and I fear my school days are long over. What with that and the medieval script, it was all a bit beyond me. I had to rely on the expertise of the curator. I did make some notes, though, if that’s any help.’ She heaves her wicker basket onto her lap and rummages for a notebook. ‘It was written on velum, all in one length and originally rolled up, they think. The writing is legible enough, though faded in some parts…Ah, here we are. Unfortunately there are large gaps where it’s either water-damaged or the material has disintegrated. I’ve marked where the missing passages are. The top section has been lost altogether but, as it was returned here from France, it is assumed that it was addressed to some official at their head office, so to speak. Anyway, that’s all that’s left of it.’ She hands the book to Gideon. ‘I couldn’t make head or tail of it myself, but it might make more sense to you.’

Gideon scans the pages, turning them slowly and studying Audrey’s bold print. His brow creases into a frown.

‘So what does it say?’ Lacey is straining to peer over his shoulder.

Gideon starts to read it aloud, word by word, stumbling over incomplete sentences and the lack of punctuation.

‘It starts:
to petition your most Holy and wisest counsel so as not to incur the charge of disobedience.
Then there’s a space. It goes on:
despite all protests of neglectful delay—
there are lots of gaps, as you say—
to urge that all haste be made to abandon this place—
another missing part—
it would be right to have nothing affecting the monastery determined without counsel of our superiors
—space
—yet with utmost speed to depart these shores that our brother be restored to his former capacity.’

He turns the page. ‘Audrey notes here that some lines have been blacked out:
the Scriptures tell of angels so apparent as to be seen by all present. Such apparitions were beheld by mortal eyes. That being so their reality exists beyond the beholder.’

Gideon scans the next section, then momentarily looks up at those listening before continuing to read aloud.
‘We are told although they themselves have not the power of creation the angels are employed by God in the governance of the universe. But are we not also told that angels were cast out of heaven and great were their numbers
—It looks like there was a large piece missing after that.’ He turns to Audrey for confirmation, his face filled with confusion and concern. ‘Then it goes on:
it is noteworthy that from that moment he became most skilled in the intricacies of the art and they were able in the most perfect manner to complete the building of our church.’

Again, Gideon turns the page. ‘Another large space—
and despite all being accomplished in accordance with your directions the visions continued—
space—
monks bade him make a sign of the cross, but he could not accomplish this neither could he speak the angel’s name—’

The only sound in the room is the movement of paper as Gideon turns to the last page of the translation.
‘—to be the cause of such devastation among the peoples of this region and to bring fear upon
them—
another section blacked—
that should the very walls be afflicted which duty it is upon us to remove all signs and symbols of such beings and that the walls themselves shall be abolished and the stones removed thereof to be distributed about the land—’

‘That the walls themselves shall be abolished. Shouldn’t that be demolished?’ Drew murmurs, looking subdued for once.

‘No.’ Audrey shakes her head. ‘Apparently abolished is what it says.’