Story: Youthful Indiscretion -- Conclusion

Copyright (C) 2012 by Kevin L. O'Brien

Continued from Beginning

Differel sat at the head of the table in the Meeting Room off her office. On her left were Aelfraed, who served as her Chief of Staff as well as her butler; Maggie King, who once had been her best double but was now Manager for the Order; Giles Holt, her Master-at-Arms and chief of house security; and Sharona Turing, her Chief Analyst. On her right were Mrs. Widget, her housekeeper and supervisor for the house staff; Madam Trumbo, her Executive Chef; and Dr. Carmichael, her Chief Medical Officer and Surgeon General. Vlad had returned and stood at the foot of the table opposite her. The only one missing was Dr. Mabuse, her Chief Science Officer, but she preferred that her resident mad scientist keep an eye on the Cenobites. She had no doubt that at that very moment she was studying them even as she kept them confined. Differel figured that if any of her people who could figure out a way to counter them, it would be her. At least, she fervently hoped so.

While she waited for them to assemble, she had called the Girls upon Vlad's return. They were preparing to take Henry up into the mountains, to one of Medb hErenn's safe houses. They had already contacted the massive woman and she had agreed to meet them there, in case the Cenobites tried a doublecross. That brought her a tremendous feeling of relief. If there was anyone on the face of the Earth who could defeat the Cenobites and force them back into their realm, it was her. Of that she had no doubt.

Once everyone had arrived, she quickly recapped the events of the morning. "We now have fifty minutes to find out who planted the Lemarchand box in the vault. Any thoughts or suggestions?"

"As I understand it," Carmichael said, "that particular vault is around 75 years old. The box could've been placed there at any time, even during a previous generation."

"Pinhead seemed pretty certain that the person responsible is alive and in the house at this time. That suggests it was a recent action."

"The problem is, we don't have the time for the usual measures, such as giving everyone a polygraph," Maggie said.

"A disciplined person can defeat a polygraph," Aelfraed replied.

"I can scare the truth out of whomever is responsible," Vlad said with a malicious grin.

"No, I won't traumatize my people. Besides, the perpetrator might not be intimidated."

"That doesn't leave us much choice, then," Holt said. "All we can do is go through the personal records for anything unusual."

"That would still take much too long," Mrs. Widget said, "and there's no guarantee we'd find anything."

"Holt's right, though," Trumbo said, "there's nothing else we can do."

Differel noticed that throughout, Sharona offered no comments, and she spent the time doodling on a pad of paper. She felt her irritation flare. "We're not keeping you from anything important, are we Ms. Turing?"

Startled, she looked up with a puzzled expression, but then she slid the pad down the length the table towards her. When Differel picked it up, she saw the top page was covered with mathematical formulas and logical symbols.

"I've been doing an analysis. I have an idea I believe will work."

I should've known. She smiled and set the pad down. "My apologies, then. Let's hear it."

#

The interior of Mabuse's lab flickered with actinic strobe clarity and brightness as electric arcs flashed from three suspended Tesla coils to the Lament Configuration sitting on the exam table. Though her robotic eyes could shield themselves from the intense blinding glare, she wore protective goggles out of habit. Besides, she didn't want to waste time having to replace a burned-out ocular receptor. Sensors in the table and surrounding devices recorded data with each arc strike and transferred it to the central computer, but she watched the feed on the screen of a handheld device. She had heard Holt's announcement calling the senior staff to a meeting, but had decided not to attend. For one thing, she calculated the Director would have preferred she keep the Cenobites confined; for another, she understood that the others would know better how to sift the household for whoever planted the box. Besides, her job was to figure out a way to neutralize the Cenobites, and she couldn't do that sitting at a table engaged in conversation. She could review the recording from her Fly-on-the-Wall® surveillance device later.

Her initial readings of the Cenobites had revealed that their Schrödinger wavefunctions were not entirely decoherent, or in sync with that of the local universe. She wasn't completely sure what that implied, though she suspected that at least it meant they could teleport themselves to any point in space-time at will, it gave them near invulnerability, and it probably endowed them with telekinesis at the very least. Even so, she had sealed her lab as a precaution. After forty-five minutes, however, it became clear she needn't have bothered. The four acolytes stood in a tight group in the open center of the lab, like unsocial wallflowers at a ballroom dance, but their leader watched her activity with keen interest. Its — or should that be 'his'? — close presence didn't disturb her. She realized it should, but she comprehended that as long as she posed no danger they were no threat.

"What is it you hope to learn?" Pinhead asked. She considered that an appropriate name; accurate, if singularly uninspired.

She shut off the analyzer, switched the room lights back on, and removed the protective covers from her goggles. "I am very close to understanding how a Lemarchand box is able to open a bridge across the Schism." She activated an app on her handheld device to start the computer analyzing the collected data.

"How?" He gave her a slight smile that was part of an expression she interpreted as contemptuously amused. Though emotionless herself, it was a simple matter for her to recognize them in others. All she needed was a catalog of sets of characteristics and a method to calculate which set was the most probable under a given circumstance. She sometimes got it wrong, but that just gave her the data she needed to update her catalog and/or modify her algorithm. "I believe it's due to a combination of spacial dynamics and quantum harmonics. Do you understand those terms?"

"Better than you."

She didn't take offense; he was either right or delusional, and she couldn't change either. "The orientation of the puzzle pieces is analogous to a lock and bolt on a door, while the music acts as the key. As each piece is removed, the local interdimensional barrier is weakened and distorted, establishing the bridge, essentially a stable traversable wormhole. The music harmonizes with the quantum signature of your realm, thereby both anchoring the bridge to that realm and stabilizing its structure. Once the box is disassembled, the bridge is completed and the connection is opened, allowing crossover. The only thing I haven't yet figured out is how the puzzle box manipulates the spacial dynamics of local space-time, but I suspect it acts as a form of Schrödinger wavefunction generator, manipulating the values of the spacial parameters in a specific sequence identical to the pattern of the puzzle pieces."

His expression betrayed minor shock. "Impressive. Your ingenuity is most commendable."

She shrugged. "It was an elementary problem, hardly much of a challenge. However, I am curious about certain things. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"

"No. Ask your questions."

"What is your realm like?"

"Many call it 'hell', but only because the devotions we practice there seem hellish to those unable to endure them. It is actually an endless, three-dimensional labyrinth in a stormy void, filled with tinkling music, vast black birds caught in the perpetual tempests, ringing bells, and troubled darkness."

Poetic, but not very illuminating. "Who, or what, are you and your colleagues?"

"We are hierophants, the Theologians of the Order of the Gash."

"So you are a religious organization?"

"In a manner of speaking. Some call us angels, others demons, and some call us both at once. We merely see ourselves as explorers."

Curiouser and curiouser. "What do you explore?"

"The limits of sensation."

"How?"

"By performing experiments in the extreme reaches of pleasurable experience."

Fascinating! "Is that what you use your victims for, as guinea pigs for conducting tests?"

"You make it sound like we are cold, unfeeling automatons questing after some unobtainable Ultimate Truth."

Typical misconception of a scientist and his duties. "I was not judging your actions, merely describing them. Though what you and I do is not all that different."

"In methods, perhaps not, but not in motive. All you seek are answers to questions; that alone you find sufficiently satisfying to justify your existence. What we seek, and offer to others, is the ultimate in hedonistic experience."

"Through torture."

"We have found that the greatest pleasures derive from enduring excruciating pain. Our devotions bring us and our subjects to the most painful of sensory overloads, then go beyond to expand sensation into areas never before imagined."

If that's true, then... "That reminds me. If I solved the puzzle, knowing that you and the other Cenobites would crossover, would you take me despite my lack of desire for pleasure or pain?"

He shook his head. "No. We bring about conditions of the nerve endings the likes of which your imagination, however fevered, could not hope to evoke. Your superstructure and naked brain have no nerves; they would not allow you to experience the full ecstatical essence of our devotions. More damning still, your soul is neither bright nor dark, but dim, like a featureless gray mist at twilight. It holds no passion, no fire, only cold ashes and dry bones. Such could never appreciate or comprehend the revelation we offer. You would make a mockery of our most sacred rituals."

She suppressed a chuckle, which earned her a frown. "Oh, forgive me, but I've never believed in souls, and I've achieved immortality by copying my consciousness and recording it onto artificial brains."

"No mortal can feel her own soul, but it is the essence of sensation and experience; without it there can be neither."

"This is Sir Differel Van Helsing." Her voice came over the intercom, forestalling Mabuse's reply. "While conducting an inventory of Secure Storage Vault C a week ago, Team Girl discovered a Lemarchand box, specifically the Lament Configuration. Someone in my house has opened it, with the end result that we have been invaded by the Cenobites. Fortunately, we have located another box, the Elysium Configuration, which can drive the Cenobites back to their realm. Vlad has retrieved it and it is being kept in the Conference Room for the time being. However, before we activate it, I am ordering the manor evacuated for everyone's protection. Please assemble in your designated locations and await further instructions. Sir Differel out."

Pinhead had been staring at the ceiling throughout the announcement, but when she finished he glanced at the mad scientist. "She is more clever than I first assumed. Her plan has a good chance of succeeding."

"You're not concerned?"

"The Elysium Configuration is not here. If it were, we would feel it. She hopes to draw out the one who brought the Lament Configuration within this house."

He turned and approached his colleagues. "Come; we are close to securing our quarry."

The handheld device signaled her. She took it out of the pocket and looked at it; the analysis of the data was complete.

"If you can give me a couple of minutes, I'll be honored to escort you to the Conference Room."

Pinhead regarded her with an arrogant half smile. "You may have a couple of minutes, Doctor."

"Thank you." She activated the simulator app and tapped out a request for the parameters calculated from the data. She smiled as the information scrolled across the screen. Everything needed to produce the effect was ready. She began tapping out instructions. She had the Cenobites by the balls, or whatever. All she needed was time for the computer to run through the calculations to set up the simulation.

She just hoped there was enough.

#

Differel sat in the cloak room off the Conference Room, watching a liquid crystal display screen. It had a fiberscope attached to it, the other end of which was screwed into a peephole in the door. The cloak room had been used for spying for as long as it had been in existence, going all the way back to old Abraham Van Helsing, especially since it provided access to the secret stairwell behind her, but thanks to modern technology no one had to stand and peer through the hole for hours on end anymore. On top of that, the fiberscope was one of Mabuse's inventions, providing high definition full colour images as well as infrared, low-light, and computer enhancement.

She kept an eye on a gilt-edged white enamel box sitting on the huge table. That was the Elysium Configuration, except it wasn't. It was a fake, hastily constructed by the mechanics in the paramilitary compound. They had cut it close; there was now only ten minutes before Pinhead's deadline. Sharona's plan was virtually foolproof, but it might take time to work. She just hoped that she could get an extension if needed.

The door to the room from the transverse hall opened, and in walked a young maid. She didn't recognize her, and she figured she might be new. She waited as the girl looked around, as if making sure she was alone, then deliberately went for the box.

Differel pushed open the cloak room door and stepped out. "Is there something I can help you with?"

The girl had reached out to grasp the box, and she jumped at her voice. She took a few steps backwards, then turned to hurry out, but Holt came through the open door with a drawn pistol. She stopped and turned towards the two corner doors, but Maggie King entered from Intelligence, while Aelfraed walked in from the side hall. Again the maid stopped, then she spun around and ran for the door on the opposite side of the room, but Vlad appeared out of a burst of shadow to cut her off.

"There's nowhere to run to," she said.

The maid glanced at her, then sprinted towards her. She pulled her pistol and aimed for her head. "Don't try it!"

The maid stopped for the last time, and looked defeated.

"Why did you plant the Lament Configuration in the vault?"

The girl threw her a shocked look. "I did no such thing!"

"Then why did you try to take this box?"

"I wasn't! I...was curious, I just wanted to see it. I know I broke protocol, and I'm sorry. I'll understand if you want to sack me, or discipline me."

During the time since she entered, Maggie had been reviewing information on a handheld device. She passed it to Aelfraed, he briefly examined it.

"Miss Erin Margay?"

The maid turned her attention to him. "Yes, Sir."

"According to our records, you were hired only a month before the inventory."

"Yes, Sir, but I didn't know anything about that."

"At that time, your background check showed no red flags. However, Miss King has just completed a more detailed check, and she has learned that the birth certificate you presented during your interview is that of six month old infant. While this does not prove you brought the Lament Configuration into this house, it is suspicious on its face. No doubt your fingerprints will reveal who you really are."

Her look of innocent naïveté disappeared, to be replaced by an arrogant half smile. "That won't be necessary. My real name is Célestine Mirbeau Duprée, and I did place the Lament Configuration in the vault, but my intended target was neither Henry nor Team Girl."

"But you did intend to summon the Cenobites," Differel asked.

"Yes."

"Then pray, tell me who your intended victim was."

Before she could reply, the Cenobites walked in with Mabuse trailing them. Holt stepped out of their way, and Vlad pulled out his Maskeulin revolvers, but no one made any threatening moves against them.

"It is time," Pinhead said.

"You're welcome to take her, but only after I find out who her real target was."

"We do not want her."

It took a moment for the nickel to drop, but then her heart stuttered as her mind skipped a track. Double-cross! "You assured me that all you were after was the person who wanted the Lament Configuration solved!"

"No," Mabuse said, coming to the fore, "that isn't it. This person is a robot."

"Not quite," Duprée said. There was a sound, like the hiss of escaping air, and then her head detached and rose up off the neck. What looked like metal cables attached to the base of the head emerged from the body, but once the head rose high enough they pulled free and revealed themselves to be tentacles. The skin and hair covering the head dissolved away, revealing a crystalline skull with jewel-like eyes. Inside the cranium filled with a transparent turquoise fluid floated a living brain.

"I didn't care who opened the Lament Configuration." The jaws didn't move as the voice spoke, but the eyes flashed and the fluid in the cranium seemed to become agitated. "Sir Differel was my intended target. I knew that she would sacrifice herself to protect whoever did by offering herself to the Cenobites as a substitute. Even if I was discovered, I also knew the Cenobites would not want me, since my brain would be unable to feel pain, so they would still take Sir Differel instead."

"A sound, logical plan," Mabuse said.

"Praise from Caesar."

Pinhead stepped towards Differel. "You must come with us now."

"No." She aimed her weapon at him, and Vlad and her staff did the same. "I fulfilled my part of the bargain: I found the person you were looking for. That she is 'unacceptable' is your problem, not mine."

"This is not open for negotiation."

"If you say so." She fired, pointblank into his face. Vlad, Holt, and Maggie directed their fire at the other Cenobites while Aelfraed threw daggers at Pinhead. He only smiled in an arrogant fashion as he ignored the attacks. Hooked chains exploded out of the walls, ceiling, and floor, ensnaring her people and tearing them to pieces. Vlad fought the hardest, but he turned to shadow and disappeared as he was pulled apart. The only one left standing besides herself was Mabuse.

"No!" Differel summoned Caliburn and charged straight at Pinhead, who stood his ground, smiling. More chains emerged; they wrapped themselves around her body as the hooks and spines impaled her and ripped through clothing, skin, muscles, and organs, and anchored themselves in her bones. The pain was agonizing, unlike anything she had felt before. Every nerve in her body fired at once; her senses processed more information than they were designed to, quickly reaching overload. She was hauled off her feet and pulled in every direction imaginable as she screamed with more force than a normal Human could muster. She prayed for relief, even as the pain continued to build passed what she thought she could tolerate.

Pinhead looked up at her. "This is only the beginning."

A blinding flash appeared above the middle of the desk, and when it had gone she saw a huge Lemarchand box hovering in the air as it turned randomly around its center of gravity. For a moment she realized that it looked identical to the fake Elysium Configuration; then the chains disappeared and she dropped to the floor. Barely able to lift her head, she saw the four acolytes were frozen like statues, and they moaned an atonal dirge as if gripped in a profound horror. Pinhead, however, forced himself by sheer will to turn towards Mabuse and move towards her. She didn't try to evade, but raised a hand. In it was a device that looked like a television remote. She pressed a button, and the box began to rearrange its parts to the sound of clangs and slamming bangs, as if solving itself. An opening appeared as a weird but beautiful tune played, revealing a vortex of blinding light. The air in the room howled and she felt it rushing into the vortex as if an airlock had opened onto the vacuum of deep space. The four acolytes were swept up and drawn screaming into the opening, but Pinhead managed to grab a handful of Mabuse's lab coat before he was lifted off the ground. He clung to the mad scientist tenaciously, dragging her across the floor. She dug in her heels, and the flagstone tiles snapped and cracked like gunshots.

She reached up with her free hand, took hold of his arm clutching her coat, and twisted it. He howled and let go, but she continued to hold him.

"Never mess with a mad scientist," she said with a determined look on her face.

She let him go, and he shot backwards, roaring in defiance. He caught the edge of the opening and hung on, pulling himself forward in a valiant effort to escape. She pressed the button and the box began to rearrange itself again. The opening closed up, dumping Pinhead into the vortex. Differel heard his wail of despair recede as the box reassembled into its original form. Mabuse pressed another button, and the box faded from view.

Differel snapped back to reality, and realized she was unhurt. Furthermore, she remembered being in pain, but not the pain itself. Mabuse walked up to her, reached down, and lifted her up to help her stand. She was a little wobbly at first, but she recovered quickly. Looking around, she saw that all her people appeared hale and whole again, including Vlad, though they all looked dazed and confused.

"What happened?" she asked Mabuse.

"I cracked the secret of how the Lemarchand boxes opened portals to other universes." She sounded quite pleased with herself.

"And Pinhead didn't know."

"Yes, he did, but I didn't tell him that allowed me to determine other possible configurations, including one that was the direct opposite of the Lament Configuration. I then programmed my computer to manipulate the Schrödinger wave functions here in this room to create the configuration and solve it. My only regret is that it took longer for the program to initiate than I expected, and for that I apologize."

"Nonsense, Doctor, I'm just glad it worked."

"I'm afraid you don't understand."

She gave her a suspicious look. "How do you mean?"

"The reversal of the Cenobites' actions, including the killing of the others, was entirely serendipitous. I had no reason to believe that this anti-Lament Configuration would have that kind of side effect."

Her mind skipped a track as her gut spasmed. "Bloody hell."

Holt prowled around the room, as if making sure the Cenobites were gone. "Duprée is missing."

She did a mental double take, then realized the head and body were both gone.

"Lock down the estate immediately!"

Aelfraed, Maggie, and Holt went into the Intelligence room while Vlad sank into the floor.

"I doubt that will do any good," Mabuse said. "Duprée probably has at least one other body stashed away for escape."

"Just what is she, anyways?"

"She's not much different from me, except I suspect hers is her actual physical brain rather than an artificial one like mine."

"How is that possible?"

"The technology to keep a human brain alive and aware in a life support jar exists, but it is very sophisticated, as is the antigravity and other advanced systems it demonstrated. If she does get off the estate, I should be able to track her down through that. There are very few companies that could manufacture the key components."

"Very well, get started immediately."

"Yes, Director."

"Oh, one more thing. What about the Cenobites. Are they gone for good?"

"I honestly don't know. Give me some time to study my data; I may be able to give you an answer in due course."

She nodded and watched Mabuse return to her lab. Suddenly she felt very lonely.

"Vlad."

He appeared out of a burst of shadow. "Yes, My Master?"

"Take me to Colorado. I need to see my son."

#

Differel and Vlad appeared on the ground floor of a three-story rotunda. Mabuse Type II robots emerged from niches to surround them while Type I's trained weapons on them from the second floor balcony. Looking up to the third floor, she saw Eile and Sunny staring down at them. Sunny waved as Eile made an ear-piercing whistle, and the robots resumed their standby positions.

"Come on up!" Sunny shouted.

"You go on back," she told Vlad. "I should be fine."

"Yes, My Master." And he disappeared in a cloud of shadow.

She spotted a helical stairway and headed on up. The Girls were waiting for her at the top. They wore black catsuits so tight they left little to the imagination regarding their body shapes, and carried weapons: Eile her beloved Daewoo automatic shotgun, and Sunny an assault carbine of some kind. She wondered, for all their good intentions, whether they could have fought off the Cenobites with such puny weapons.

"Is it over?" Sunny asked.

"Yes, Mabuse found a way to get rid of them."

"Heh, good for her," Eile said.

"Unfortunately, it isn't permanent. She told me that if anyone solved the Lament Configuration again, they would be freed. However, I have it under lock and key, and I plan on turning it over to HM Government. The Privy Council can order it sealed away in a hyper-maximum security vault. God willing, no one should ever get their hands on it again."

"You could give it ta Mayv. She'd probably be able ta squirrel it away somewhere where no one could find it."

"Is she here?"

"Not yet," Sunny said, "but we expect her at any moment."

"I would like to talk with her when she arrives."

"Yeah, sure. Meanwhile, let's have a celebration! Par-tay!"

"Settle down, ya spaz!" Eile carped.

She grinned for a moment, but then she remembered why she came. "Could I speak with Henry first? Alone?"

"Yeah, okay, we got 'im up here." Eile went into the stairwell, followed by Sunny, and Differel brought up the rear. She expected to come out on an upper floor, but instead they emerged onto the roof of the rotunda. It was built as an open terrace for entertaining, with a spectacular panoramic view of the surrounding mountains. She spotted Henry sitting at a table under an awning, playing with a laptop computer.

"Why did you keep him up here?"

"We did some research before we came out here," Sunny said, "and we discovered that the Cenobites can create chains with hooks that come out of walls. So we decided he'd be safer up here, and we could get him away with the ultralight if we had to."

Actually, that made sense, though whether it would work would be another matter.

"Spend as much time with him as you want," Eile said, "then bring 'im downstairs. We'll have a quick snack and plan the party."

"Thank you; for everything."

"Heh, no sweat, Diff." Then she and Sunny went back downstairs.

She approached the table and he looked up at her. He grinned and waved, happy to see her again, but there was a trace of hesitancy, as if he realized it wasn't going to be a completely joyous reunion.

She sat down on one side as he closed the laptop. "The Cenobites are gone, Henry. Dr. Mabuse found a way to send them back to their realm. You needn't worry about them coming back."

"Thank you."

"My pleasure. But I'm afraid there are still consequences that need to be dealt with."

"Yes, Mother."

"This is the second time you've found something in the manor and tried to keep it a secret from me. The first time I let it slide because I thought you had learned a valuable lesson, but this time could have been disastrous. I'm afraid I'll have to punish you."

"Yes, Mother, and I understand."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Yes, I had a long talk with Aunt Eile and Sunny while we drove here. I realize how much danger I put everyone in. I'm sorry for that, but I also know that's not enough. I will take whatever punishment you believe is appropriate, but I also give you my word that I will never do that again."

Despite her resolve, she felt pride swelling up inside her. If he was sincere, he had done a lot of growing up in such a short time, and she believed he was sincere. At least, if he wasn't, that would constitute a more serious deception than anything he had perpetrated before, and she wasn't prepared to assume that.

She smiled to reassure him. "Very well, I accept your promise, and for that, your punishment will be to spend one weekend washing dishes in the scullery instead of for a whole week. But if you ever break your word, not only will I be very disappointed, but you'll do dishes for a fortnight. Understand?"

"Yes, Mother."

She nodded. "Good. We'll postpone your punishment until next weekend. Meanwhile, the Girls want to celebrate our victory. They said that when we were finished we were to come down to discuss plans."

"Okay." They stood up, but about half way to the stairwell Henry stopped.

He looked up at her with a distressed expression. "I'm really sorry I put you in danger. I love you, and I don't want to lose you, ever."

She felt surprised for a moment, but then a mixture of affection and sadness swept over her. She knelt in front of him and they embraced.

"I love you too, Henry, and you will never lose me. I won't allow it to happen."

She heard and felt him sobbing quietly into her shoulder, and she couldn't help shedding a few tears herself.

#

It was decided that the celebration would be postponed until Sunday, and that it would be held at her manor in Norfolk, that way Henry wouldn't suffer from time-lag that could interfere with him when he returned to school on Monday. They planned to head back in a couple of hours, but after they ate, the Girls arranged for Henry to play some video games to give her a chance to talk with them. She was grateful for that. They sat on the rotunda roof around a fire pit, to give her an opportunity to smoke. She knew they hated smoking, so she was doubly grateful they allowed her that special indulgence.

She related everything that happened, including the report she took from Holt while they ate.

"So the jar-brain got away, huh?" Eile said.

"Yes, but Dr. Mabuse is confident she can trace her. She's already found a company that formulates a fluid that could bathe the brain. With any luck we'll be able to locate this new enemy in short order. Meanwhile, the only Célestine Mirbeau Duprée that Aelfraed could find lived in the eighteenth century, so either that is just another alias, or we're dealing with a singular individual."

"We're just glad you escaped being tortured for all eternity!" Sunny squealed.

She didn't respond, but she realized an odd look must have crossed her face when Eile said, "What?!"

"I'm not sure how to say this, or if I should say anything at all, but if I can't confide in you two I have no one else. Do you remember Pinhead saying I had a dark soul, and could make a Cenobite?"

"Yeah, but you don't really believe that, do you?"

"At that time I would have said no, but now I'm not so sure."

"Buuuuut, why?!" Sunny asked.

"You know about my BDSM fantasies."

"Sure, but most people have 'em, even Sunny and me. That doesn't make you a Cenobite."

"I doubt more than a few have fantasies as dark as mine, but what made me change my mind was that, as I hung suspend in those chains, in the midst of the most horrific pain I had ever felt, I also felt pleasure more intense than anything I had previously experienced, even with Victor."

She paused, not sure whether to voice her final thought, but finally decided to forge ahead. "For a moment, the briefest of fleeting moments, I hoped it would never end."

The Girls glanced at each other with appalled expressions, but she couldn't blame them. Were she in their shoes, listening to their experience, she would have been disgusted as well. But then they did something unexpected, much as they always did: they got up, came around the pit, sat down on either side of her, and embraced her. After a moment she tossed the cigarillo into the pit and hugged them back.

Sunny had once told her, some years before, that friends didn't judge, they gave comfort. Never was she more grateful of that than at that moment, or thankful that she had friends as loving as them. Along with her love for Henry, it allowed her to believe that there was still some good in her worth cherishing.

#

One month later...

Differel paused outside the Palace of Westminster to light a cigarillo. She had just completed her semi-annual address to the House of Lords on paranormal matters in the United Kingdom. She never stayed for the complete session. Despite being the Dowager Viscountess of Dunwich, her right to sit in Parliament came from her Life Peerage, which she still barely acknowledged, and politics had never been her strong suit; that had always been Victor's talent. But she had duties and responsibilities, like it or not, and she was nothing if not diligent.

"Lady Dunwich?"

She turned around. "Yes?" She was confronted by an elderly man, clean-shaven, patrician-featured with blue eyes, wearing an impeccably tailored slate-gray three-piece suit, with a bowler hat, a white carnation in a lapel button, and an umbrella clutched in his left hand.

The epitome of the stereotypical British politician.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"No, My Lady."

"Sir Differel will suffice, Mister—?"

"I am the Engineer."

She raised an eyebrow, but in the same instant noted the faint phosphorescent blue tint to his corneas, and as the slight breeze shifted she caught the scent of vanilla over a sickly garbage stench.

A Cenobite! "Bloody hell."

"No fear, I merely wish to present you with a gift." He held out his hand. Sitting on the upturned palm was the Lament Configuration. "For when this existence no longer satisfies."

She took an involuntary step back. "I gave that to Mayv Hairrayn! How did you get hold of it?"

He only smiled in a fatherly fashion, and extended his hand. She hesitated, calculating the consequences, but finally decided it would be better if she had possession of it instead of someone else. She picked it up, and as she looked at it, she saw faces reflected in the smooth polished surface.

When she focused on the Engineer again, he was already walking away.

"Wait!"

He stopped and turned to look back at her.

"Why give this to me?"

He smiled again, but in a cold, harsh manner. "It has always been yours." He tipped his hat, and his skin glowed with a blinding white fiery light, blinding her. When it faded, he had vanished, but the weight of the box in her hand remained, informing her he had been real.