The pavements blurred past, a menagerie of people and places, luminous curry houses, gabbling bars, 24 hour supermarkets, and the streets being woven by lines of students and frolickers of the night.
It was almost ten and night had now properly set in, the navy sea of the heavens loomed in, gazing down onto the orb of the world through a host of beady ice eyes. The bus lurched and stuttered in the traffic, a near constant chatter pervaded the carriage, intermingled with the pungent aromas of kebad and perfume. Vincent sat lazily at the back of the coach, one foot propped upon the seat before him, his arm resting on his knee cupping his chin in hand. He simply watched the world rush by, his eyes filled with the neon reds of car headlights, of the sodium yellow of the street lamps.
Every thing about us is just numbers and connections, formula trying to balance itself.
The bus sputtered and ground metal gears as it pulle dup to another bus stop. Outside club goers ejected from the bar nearby balled and jeered, laced with the under current of shattering glass and wailing of intoxicated foul mothed women.
Or maybe its just formula out of balance, and this thing we call 'Life' is just one glimmer of the world we just to control. Is this our destiny? To tear and rend one another apart just to feel that control once more?
The tired metal behemoth, feet of molded rubber and heart of of cut steel and noir vitae, came to a stop just outside the museum. With a reptilian hiss the door swung open and Vincent alighted, turning to gaze at the gothic spires of the Manchester museum, its walls of cut sandstone now grime slick with soot and bird foul.
A choking cloud signalled the departure of the bus and Vincent stood on the pavement as ther other inhabitants of the city flowed by. He inhaled deeply and allowed his mind to rise above the clamour of the world, focused upon the quadratic form of a formula, a wavefunction, one cut by his very being, allowing him to expand onto the buzzing sea of thoughts about him.
How lucky, to worry and fret about such minor, small, insignificant things. Is you curse, the snuffing out of your flames, a blessing shielding you from the darkness about?
Vincent shook away from the ocean of thoughts and turned to view the Maths tower, the university mathematics department, a spire of poorly designed concrete and sheat glass. An eye sore on the campus, yet the home of a secret more bewildering than the madness of pi.
Having crossed the road and past its gas burning contraptions, Vincent skulked about the base of the tower, his eyes alert for those that might have need to follow him. He paused and took in his surroundings, the neat little alcove of cast stone and brick. His eyes were drawn down and he smiled as he found, as always, the greeting card of the sanctum, the inlaid metal emblem, a version of the Atlantean symbol for the arcana of Space, sat upon one of its sides making it resemble the symbol for pi, the emblem though having been fractured into dull and polished lines. The symbol also acted like a barcode.
Vicent approached the alcove and searched the surface for the right spot, his fingers folling every groove, every scratch. And there hidden amongst cracks and worn stone was the symbol of Space again, though different, altered by other cuts, altering the underlying power of the rune. It glowed.
He withdrew his hand as the rune came to life, lime green essence seeping from the engraving. The wall before him shuddered and a slither of light sliced its way down the length of the alcove. With a grinding of cement and sand the alcove opened, dust falling snow like from the emerging doorway. The concrete revealed a dented and gnarled metal elevator door, the edges rusted and spattered with grime. With an accomplished 'ping' these doors also opened, revealing the checkerboard printed metal floor and dimpled sides of the inside of the lift. A faint musty smell emanated from the lift, the exhalation of air catching Vincent's coat. He stepped inside and jabbed the button for the only floor available. Floor 13, the sanctum of the Hyperion cabal.
3 comments: