he felt your problem was trivial."
"I appreciate that, Mrs. Arkenton, and I thank you for your graciousness."
"Not at all, Dr. Carroway, and please call me Kathy."
Carroway flashed a happy smile. "My friends call me Ted."
"So, how may we help you?"
Carroway leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. "Here at the museum we use endowments, grants, and contributions to fund research into various areas of the natural and physical sciences. We try to keep a tight control over these various projects, to make sure the money is not wasted on frivolous or crackpot endeavors, but occasionally an operation slips through the cracks. Why, just last year we cancelled funding for a project that was suppose to study the physiology of sleep but was actually used for some nonsense about predicting the future through dreams."
"Actually," Jeremiah said, "ESP dream research has a sound scientific foundation--"
Kathleen silenced him by putting her hand on his knee. "Now's not the time, Jerry."
Carroway cleared his throat with a nervous grunt. "Well, a week ago one of our physicists disappeared from his lab, and I believe it may have been due to what he was working on. He had been funded to conduct research on unifying relativity with quantum theory, but I'm afraid he may have been using his grant to conduct unauthorized experiments."
"Why do you believe he disappeared?" Jeremiah asked.
"He was seen going into his lab in the morning. No one saw him leave, yet when the security guards checked his lab after closing he was not there. Now, mind you, no one can say with absolute certainty that he did not leave on his own, but neither can anyone confirm that he did."
"Could he have gone out a window?" Kathleen inquired.
"No, his lab is in the basement; there are no windows."
"I take it you examined the lab," Jeremiah evaluated; "what was he working on?"
"I had hoped you could tell me, Jerry."
"I prefer Jeremiah."
"Oh dear! I am sorry--"
"I would like to see the lab," Jeremiah announced suddenly.
Flustered, Carroway at first made no move, but when the Arkentons stood he jumped up out of his chair and hastily led them and Shrewsbury out of his office and back to the elevators.
They went down into the basement level, and along the way, Kathleen said, "Try not to mind my husband's abruptness. He doesn't mean to be rude, he just has a straightforward manner."
Carroway nervously glanced askance at Jeremiah, but if he was offended by his wife's comment he gave no sign. "No, no, I understand completely."
The lab in question was under guard and locked. Inside, it looked more like an electrician's workshop than a science lab, yet the room was dominated by a large piece of unusual equipment. It resembled a reflecting telescope, except there was only a single piece of glass embedded in its base, which looked more like a lens than a mirror. It was some three feet in diameter and encased in a metal frame that was itself built into the cylindrical latticework. Cables attached to the superstructure ran off to various machines scattered around the room, which were in turn connected to monitoring and control equipment.
While Carroway hung back, the Arkentons and Shrewsbury examined the device. Kathleen voiced the obvious thought they all entertained: "Why build a telescope in a basement room with no windows?" No one ventured an answer.
In time they each gravitated to a different part of the room. Shrewsbury concentrated on the lens, while Kathleen checked out the electrical equipment, and Jeremiah found and began reading the researcher's notebook. It was Shrewsbury who broke the silence first.
"This is a scrying glass."
"A what?" Carroway asked as the Arkentons looked over at their friend.
"A magical device for viewing scenes from great distances."
Carroway barked out an astonished laugh, but Shrewsbury gave him a stern look. "There is nothing amusing about it. This is an extremely dangerous object, unless you know how to handle it. Among other concerns, it can act both ways, so that a being you are observing may observe you as well. And unlike a technological viewing device such a telescope, a being with a sufficiently powerful will may directly affect whatever it views."
Carroway burst out with a genuine horselaugh, which earned him disapproving looks from all present. "Surely you're not serious?"
"I am deadly serious, Theodore." Shrewsbury's tone sounded severe. "I see you haven't changed. You always were a stubborn student, and it would seem you still need to learn your lessons the hard way."
Carroway colored with anger and embarrassment, but before he could respond, Shrewsbury suddenly announced: "I'm afraid I must leave."
"So soon?" Kathleen objected as she walked over to him.
He smiled. "Yes, I have to be back in Arkham this evening and my flight leaves in an hour."
"Jerry and I were hoping to take you to dinner this evening." She sounded disappointed.
"My apologies, but when you come to Arkham next you shall be my guests instead." He took her hand, and she reached up to kiss him lightly on the cheek.
"We'll see you at the conference in July, Laban," Jeremiah said before turning back to the notebook.
Squeezing Kathleen's hand, Shrewsbury then turned towards Carroway as he began to leave. "I leave you in good hands, Theodore; if anyone can determine what happened it is the Arkentons. However, I strongly advise all of you that once you have completed your investigation, you destroy that device immediately. Good luck, and good day." And with that he left the room and headed down the hall.
Carroway waited until he had passed from earshot, then turned back to the Arkentons. "Surely we can disregard that nonsense about magic."
"At our peril," Jeremiah replied without looking up.
Kathleen added, "Laban may not be a scientist, but he is a leading scholar on the philosophy of science and its relationship to metaphysics and epistemology. He is also an acknowledged theorist on the application of abstract mathematics such as hyperdimensional geometry to physical and metaphysical cosmology. Much of his expertise is in what people superstitiously call 'magic', so his warning is to be taken seriously."
Carroway's face purpled with anger again, but for a different reason. "Then Francis may have been using museum funding to perform crackpot experiments?"
Kathleen scowled, but she was interrupted by Jeremiah's even voice: "Perhaps not so crackpot."
Carroway scoffed, but he followed Kathleen as she went over to where her husband was sitting. "What've you found?" She leaned over him.
Taking a pen from the desk and ripping the top sheet off a legal pad, Jeremiah began scribbling out formulas. "I'm not sure." He sounded distracted. "The math is rather complex; I wish Robert were here."
Kathleen looked up at Carroway. "Robert is our son; he's currently doing postdoctoral work at Harvard on developing new methods of calculus."
"However," Jeremiah said, sounding more focused, "it would appear that your researcher had a rather unique theory to explain how a scrying glass worked."
"Oh, please, I need you to conduct a serious investigation. If you're going to waste my time on a wild goose chase--"
"Keep still and listen!" Kathleen spat, her Irish temper aroused.
Jeremiah tossed the pen onto the pad. "Based on what I've read, your researcher speculates that scrying glasses use tachyons the way a cathode ray tube uses electrons, to paint pictures on a specially prepared screen. He then attempted to construct a 'tachyon television' as he called it using science instead of sorcery." He paused as a faint smile cracked his lips. "Your researcher seems to have a rather wry sense of humor; he abbreviated his invention as the 'tacky-TV' in his notes."
"What in the name of Beelzebub is a tachyon?" Carroway sounded sarcastic.
From "Gruff Tolls"
The three women paused as they topped the crest of the ridge. The other side of the pass ran down-slope to a narrow but deep cleft between the two mountain ranges. The sides of the ravine were sheer vertical rock
walls some thirty feet apart, and even from where they stood they could hear the muted roar of the cataract deep inside the fissure.
Medb hErenn watched as Morgiana crouched and examined the vista with her experienced thief's eye.
"You were right," she remarked in a casual tone. She was addressing the Zoog Conaed, called Runt, who sat on one of the three pack yaks behind her. He was only about half the size of his race, but his verdigris-tinged bronze fur was darker and the tarnished silver facial stripes were bolder.
He declined to answer, but the former queen replied, "You should know by now he is very seldom wrong."
Morgiana gave the massive woman a look that mixed amusement and exasperation on her lovely Arabic face, then turned her attention back to the ravine while Medb followed her gaze. As Conaed had predicted, the gulf was spanned by a footbridge suspended from two pairs of rough-hewn stone spires, one on either side. The planks of the deck appeared to be made from ordinary wood, but the ropes that supported them did not look like hemp or metal wire or any other recognizable material. They almost seemed to resemble cobwebs.
Mephitis walked up to stand between them. Medb spared the apothecary a sidelong glance and saw her eye the bridge in a dubious manner. "Are you sure this is the only way through?"
"The Quarry of the Giants should be just a few miles west of here," Medb said. "From there the trail to Urg is clearly marked, with Inganok a day's march beyond."
Morgiana stood and gave her arms a