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Alien Bet & The Invasion of the Lake Puppets | Ch. 8 - The Rendez-Vous
🕑 Added 2024-09-26 07:51:07 +0000 UTCJoey stood under the heavy, gray sky at New Lisbon Central Station, watching as clouds thickened over the city. A zeppelin flew overhead, about to land at the nearby Aquilae Airport. The majestic station stretched before him, with lines upon lines of railways linking it to the rest of the continent. New Lisbon Central Station was praised among the well-traveled as the most modern in the world. Unlike other cities that constantly rebuilt themselves atop older foundations, New Lisbon had practically appeared from thin air a century and a half ago, when the formula for sirenia was discovered, and the commercial exploitation of Lake Grassum began.
Joey’s gaze drifted up to the giant clock that anchored the three massive transportation hubs. Rendezvous Clock, as it was called, marked ten-fifteen in the morning. He appreciated the sight of horses yoked to the giant crank, performing their daily march to wind the colossal timepiece.
The commissioner had sent him here to pick up the ambassador from the Science Academy. Joey recalled the conversation vividly. When he had asked why, the commissioner had smirked. “It’s a weird case. You’re the weirdest investigator I’ve got. Seems like a good match.” Joey still couldn’t tell if that had been a joke or a genuine observation.
It was impressive that the mayor had managed to secure a member of the Science Academy in New Lisbon within a week of the incident. He checked the dark plaque where he had written in white chalk: Professor Lincoln. Since he knew which train Professor Lincoln would arrive on, Joey had chosen to wait at the platform instead of at the Rendezvous Clock. The train was due any minute now.
He felt a small tug on his trousers.
“Mr. Constable, can I see your badge?” A little girl in a cute lime-green dress with two ponytails demanded his attention. A few steps away, her mother stood, smiling fondly, watching the interaction. Joey returned the smile, slightly bowing and touching his hat in greeting. The mother offered an apologetic gesture, and Joey crouched to meet the little girl at eye level.
“Of course, ma’am. I’m Constable Joey. What’s your name?”
“I’m Eliana, but my friends call me Lilly.” She turned the constable’s badge over in her hands, entranced by it. “One day, I’m going to be a constable too!”
“Are you now? That’s fantastic.”
“Are you here to catch bad guys or thieves?” Her accusing finger shot toward a boy standing by her mother. “My brother stole my cookie earlier and called me ugly. Can you put him in jail?” The boy, realizing he’d been ratted out, ducked behind his mother. Joey chuckled, shaking his head.
“Well, I don’t think your brother has a criminal record yet. Maybe I’ll let him go with a warning this time.”
Lilly grinned triumphantly. “Can I draw on your chalkboard?”
Joey glanced up at Rendezvous Clock and then at the railway. No sign of the train yet. He could spare a few minutes. “Sure, Lilly. Here’s some chalk. Go ahead.”
Her brother, sensing he was no longer in trouble, joined his sister, watching curiously as she sketched on the board.
“I’m sorry, officer,” the mother said. “Are the children bothering you?”
“Not at all, madam. Entertaining law-abiding children is my favorite part of the job. Waiting for someone?”
“Yes, my husband. He’s coming back from a business trip to the capital. The children are very excited to see him. Isn’t that right, kids?”
Lilly continued drawing enthusiastically. “Tony, you’ll never guess what this is!”
“Hmmm… I need to see more.”
Joey leaned over to take a look. Was that an octopus? The shape was spherical, with one large eye in the middle and long tentacle-like appendages extending from it.
“I know, Lilly! It’s Ambyssus!” Tony declared.
“Ah, you got me. Your turn!” Lilly giggled.
“Ambyssus?” Joey echoed, the name tugging at something in his memory. He’d been hearing it mentioned more often lately. “Who—or what—is Ambyssus?”
The children looked at him wide-eyed.
“Constable, you don’t know who Ambyssus is?” Lilly asked, incredulity in her voice.
“Constable, Ambyssus is a very smart cookie!” Tony added, excited.
“And why does it only have one eye?” Joey asked.
“Because one is more than enough! It’s a very good eye,” Tony answered.
“Yeah! Ambyssus has an eye for business,” Lilly said, giggling.
Joey couldn’t help but chuckle at their rich imaginations. “What about these—are these roots?”
The kids burst into laughter. “Of course not! These are his fingers.”
“But his fingers are different from ours. They’re more like tentacles,” Tony said confidently.
“How many fingers does he have?” Joey asked, trying to keep up.
“Isn’t that obvious? As many as he needs,” Tony replied with certainty.
Joey raised an eyebrow and glanced at their mother. “Did they come up with this story on their own?”
The mother smiled, shaking her head. “Oh no, it’s just a bedtime story we tell them. Didn’t your mother tell it to you, Constable?”
Strange. “No. I’ve never heard it before.”
The sound of a train whistle echoed through the station. It was almost here.
“Excuse me, kids. I need that back.” Joey wiped away the octopus-like creature and rewrote Professor Lincoln in bold letters. He raised the sign as the train pulled into the station, passengers beginning to disembark. Families and friends reunited in warm embraces, and Joey watched as Lilly and Tony excitedly ran to greet their father.
“Excuse me, agent. I am Professor Lincoln.”
Joey looked down to see a middle-aged woman in a long coat standing before him. Her blue eyes scanned him with quiet curiosity, and she carried a suitcase in each hand. Her attire was simple and discreet but elegant.
“Welcome to New Lisbon, Professor. Please, call me Joey. Let me help you with those bags.”
“Thank you, Joey. You can call me Esther.”
*
After Geoffrey returned home from another undercover incursion into the city, he bathed in the lake. The slums had a certain stench, a smell that urchins and thieves could practically sense in outsiders. Geoffrey had made sure his entire ensemble helped him blend in on the streets, but now he needed to return to what he considered his true self: a wealthy businessman.
In the lake’s clear water, Geoffrey enjoyed a rare sense of tranquility. Yet, underneath that calm, there was a pervasive assurance—he wasn’t alone. As he relaxed in the lake, he took big gulps of the lake’s water to quench his thirst. As he did, flashes of certain images came to his mind. Scenes from recent recurring dreams. They should have been scary or disturbing, given that they were so strange and alien, but Geoffrey felt no fear or repulsion, only nostalgia.
After returning to the parlor, Geoffrey shaved and dressed in fresh clothes. His secretary was already busy navigating her chaotic filing system when he found her.
“Debbie, when’s my next appointment?”
“At 11:00, sir. Shirley from the Bank is coming to see you.”
Geoffrey held his silver pocket watch, its familiar weight always soothing him. He checked the time—thirty minutes until the meeting. More than enough to relax and paint.
“Ha. Wonderful. I’ll be in the office.”
Once inside, he gazed out at the cloudy day. The lake outside had taken on a grayish hue. Through another window, he could see the vacuuming parlor in full swing, processing a batch of balatees.
Geoffrey went to the mini-bar and grabbed a bottle of apple cider. Then, he took a flask of lake water he had filled earlier and poured some into the bottle before taking a sip of the mix. The fruity drink soothed him, but the taste of the lake water remained distinct.
He rummaged through his desk drawers, finding his paintbrushes. After mixing the colors, he turned to the canvas, brush in hand, standing like a swordsman about to duel his opponent. Today, he would try again to paint Ambyssus’s eye. The hardest part wasn’t the technical skill—it was capturing the emotion. The eye had to reflect intellect, guile, and respect for the game’s rules. Majesty mixed with deviousness.
As Geoffrey painted the eye that looked beyond the depths and surfaces of the lake and onto the rest of the world, a small part of his mind wondered why he had become so obsessed with this image. He had always taken enough pleasure in reproducing the work of others. Why had he so fervently begun trying to paint his work? And where had he dredged up this image? Why did he see this image in his mind’s eye every night when he slept or every day when he drank water from the lake? When had he even started to only drink water from the lake or bathe in it? Where had he heard of Ambyssus before? When had he become such a creative painter and underhanded businessman? Even as parts of his mind tried to weave the thoughts together and build up panic from the strangeness of it all, a soothing mental song from the lake’s depths unfastened his concerns and tied them into bolder, grander plans.
After a few minutes, Geoffrey paused, admiring his work in the painting. The eye now conveyed outrage at even being considered scary and violent. This was a harmless creature, the eye said, one that lived for business and profit, not for bloodshed and barbarity. See me as the ocean, the eye said, for like me, it is big and deep beyond your imagination, yet you fear it not. It’s there to be surfed, harnessed, and traversed. So am I, said Ambyssus’ eye. The painting showed the eye focused on the outside world while ignoring the herds of dugongs and manatees that graced the upper lighter corners of the painting, for it didn’t care. It didn’t mind the company if it was poorer than him.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
“Mr. Geoffrey, Shirley from the Bank is here to see you.”
He checked his watch again—a beloved gift from his mentor—and realized the time had slipped away. It was already 11 o’clock.
“Please let her in,” Geoffrey called out, hurriedly putting down his brushes. He fumbled with the apron he’d put on, the smell of paint still lingering on his hands. He had shown up to meetings with smudged clothes more than once.
Shirley walked in, dressed in a sharp business suit, briefcase in hand. She looked every bit the professional. Her brown hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her intelligent eyes scanned the room.
“Jeff,” she greeted him with a nod. There was an edge to her tone. “You’ve been keeping busy,” Shirley said, her eyes briefly flicking to the painting before forcing herself to focus on him again. “I’ll admit, I was skeptical about how quickly you paid off your debt, but my manager at the bank was pleased.” She gave a professional smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “What I can’t explain to him, however, is why you’re already talking about making an even bigger investment.”
Geoffrey waved away her concern. “Now, now, Shirley, you know I’m good for my word. I just proved that to you, didn’t I? If anything, our last deal only strengthened my standing with your bank. I can guarantee I’ll pay this next loan off in a month.”
“You’ve changed, Geoffrey,” she said, her voice quieter now. “There’s something different about you lately. You're a bit… too driven.”
Geoffrey paused at that but quickly reached for the drink cabinet. He poured apple cider into a glass and offered it to her.
“Here, Shirley, have some. You’ll see things more clearly after a sip.”
She hesitated before accepting the drink and taking a small sip. She stood there for a moment, as if lost in thought, before finally speaking again. “I’ll see what I can do, Geoffrey. But I have to run this by management. This is no small amount you’re asking for.”
“Of course, of course,” Geoffrey replied. “It’s perfectly understandable. But remember, I just paid off a massive loan in less than a week. Trust me on this—I’m going to make your bank even richer. Negotiate the rate, but get me that loan. I need it.”
Shirley took a deep breath, her professional facade slipping for just a moment before she collected herself. “Very well. I’ll see what I can do.”
“That's all I ask, Shirley. It’s been a pleasure, as always.”
She stood, nodded, and left the room. Geoffrey returned to the window, watching the lake with its mysterious, glassy surface. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the water was calling to him again, and without thinking, he reached for the flask of lake water on his desk.
*
"Are you sure you don’t need more rest, Professor? It was a long trip from the capital." Even though Professor Lincoln had already told Joey more than once that he could call her Ester, he couldn't bring himself down to doing it.
"It’s fine, Joey. I took the night train precisely to arrive and start working immediately."
Joey nodded, though a twinge of envy hit him. He had always struggled to sleep on trains, no matter how long the journey was. As they left the Aurum Hotel, where he had dropped her bags at reception, Professor Lincoln hadn’t even bothered to check-in. She was ready to get to work immediately.
"As I mentioned earlier, Professor, the Commissioner has assigned me to provide you with any assistance you need during your investigation."
"I appreciate that, Constable."
"So, where would you like to begin?" Joey asked.
"I’d like to go straight to the lake, if possible."
No hesitation. No need for rest. She is efficient, Joey thought, maybe even too efficient. He felt a flicker of unease at the prospect of keeping up with her pace. "Of course, right this way. We can take one of the precinct’s locomotives. Dr. Link’s boat should return in a few days, but they’ve set up a camp near the lake for you."
"If it’s alright, I’d prefer to look around on my own before meeting the local scientists," she replied.
Joey raised an eyebrow but didn’t question her. Was the gap between the Academy and the rest of the scientific community so wide that she didn’t even want to consult her colleagues first? Not that it mattered; his job wasn’t to question her methods. The Commissioner had made it clear: Treat the professor like royalty.
"How about this," Joey offered, thinking quickly. "I have a friend who owns a ranch near the lake. We could stop by there first."
"That sounds perfect," she said, giving a small nod of approval.
As Esther entered the locomotive, Joey checked the boiler, topping it off with sirenia. The Aurum Hotel was ideally placed at a crossroads, where three different rail lines intersected, allowing them to quickly reach almost any part of the city. Joey climbed into the green-and-brown locomotive, waved the purple flag, and they set off.
While the train chugged forward, Joey stole a glance at the professor. She had pulled several newspapers from her rucksack. One bore the Aurum Hotel’s logo—smart, Joey thought, she must have requested them at reception. She skimmed through them methodically, sorting through recent headlines.
He noticed the papers dated back a week. The incident had occurred five days ago. Right now, she was reading yesterday’s edition. The headline screamed, “Barrel of Sirenian Oil Reaches Record High Prices.”
Despite the mayor’s constant reassurances that a deal had been made to secure the oil supply, panic buying had gripped the city. Barrels were being snatched up at ridiculous prices. The mayor had been forced to limit daily purchases, but that only made the prices skyrocket further. Yesterday, one lot of fifty barrels had sold at a record price of 300 crowns each.
Professor Lincoln paused on the article longer than usual, her eyes narrowing slightly though she said nothing. Joey sensed her weighing the significance of the price surge. He wanted to say something but bit his tongue. Best not to interrupt.
Outside, the city began to fade behind them, giving way to open countryside. The hum of the train against the tracks was rhythmic, soothing almost. Joey’s thoughts drifted for a moment—back to Geoffrey, his old friend. There had been something strange about their last encounter, a shadow of tension. Maybe bringing a Science Academy emissary to his doorstep would unsettle him. It wasn’t a bad idea, as long as Geoffrey’s wife didn’t catch wind of it.
Professor Lincoln folded the newspapers, completing her preliminary analysis of the situation.
"So... any theories?" he asked.
"Theories will come later," she said. "Right now, the most valuable thing I can offer is a fresh pair of eyes and an unbiased perspective. Let’s assess the situation at the lake first, and then we can exchange impressions. Deal?"
Joey nodded, feeling relieved by her approach. His eyes turned toward their destination. Let's see what you're up to, Jeff.
