who desires our presence. He is here, somewhere."
"I'll find him for you, but only if you return to your realm first."
"No. That person is our due. We will not return without him, or a suitable substitute."
"How long can you remain before the bridge closes?"
"It will not close until we find the one we seek and return with him to our realm."
Her mind skipped a track, as Eile muttered, "Holy Jesus God!", and Sunny squeaked, "Oh, my fabulous gravy!" They're loose on Earth!
It almost seemed as if a faint trace of a smile played at Pinhead's lips. Can he read my thoughts?
"All we want is our due. The rules of our Order prevent us from doing more, and they are inviolate."
Something Pinhead had said finally registered. "You mentioned a substitute. What does that mean?"
"The one who is our due may offer a replacement for us to take back in his stead, but such must be worthy, a soul darker than his own."
That made sense, and it gave her an idea. A dangerous one, to be sure, but if it worked Henry would be safe.
"But, while it is desire that calls to us, we are permitted to claim whoever opens the Lament Configuration, even if he is not our rightful due."
"Meaning?"
"If we cannot find he who is our due, we will take your son."
"Over our dead bodies!" Sunny squealed, and Eile said, "Yeah, do yer worst!"
"Shut it, both of you!" She knew they meant well, but their defiance wouldn't help matters.
Holt reappeared in the doorway beside the door guard, and he held up a black box about the size of his fist. She nodded, and willed Caliburn to vanish as she laid the submachine gun on the nearby chair. She approached Pinhead and stared him straight in the eyes. "I offer myself as a substitute for my son."
The Cenobite looked down at her and examined her closely for some moments, then flashed a cruel half-smile. "Agreed. Despite your self-restraint, your soul is worthy. You might even become a Cenobite yourself, after perhaps a century."
"Never mind that. How long will you wait for me to find your 'due'?"
"One hour; no longer."
She had hoped for more time, but..."So be it. In the meantime, I accept your word that you will cause no unprovoked harm, but I don't want you running loose. Will you wait in a location I designate?"
"Agreed."
She glanced at Mabuse. "Doctor, would you be so kind as to take the Cenobites to your lab? See to their comfort while the rest of us conduct our search."
Mabuse smiled and nodded. "Certainly, Director." She stepped closer to Pinhead. "If you and your colleagues would follow me?"
He regarded her in a cold manner, but as she turned to leave he followed, and the other Cenobites fell in behind him. Holt and the door guard stepped into the room to get out of their way, and she paused long enough to take the Lament Configuration from him.
Once they were gone, Differel turned to Vlad. "Take Henry and the Girls to their home in the States."
"Yes, My Master."
"Buuuut--" Sunny began.
She turned on her, giving her a baleful stare.
"EEEP!" She jumped back, and even Eile looked disturbed.
"For once, please, just do as I say! You too, young man."
Henry returned a timid look and nodded. "Yes, Mother."
The Girls put their weapons down, took Henry by the hands, and led him to Vlad. He lifted Henry up and placed him on his shoulders, then wrapped his arms around Eile and Sunny's waists before vanishing in a cloud of shadow. Her last vision of Henry was his look of anguish. Regret stabbed at her heart that that might be the final memory she would have of him.
She glanced at Holt. "Call an immediate meeting of the senior staff. We don't have much time."
He nodded. "Yes, Mum."
Differel sat at the head of the table in the meeting room off her office. On her left sat Aelfraed, who served as her Chief of Staff as well as her butler; Maggie King, who once had been her best double but currently acted as Manager for the Order; Giles Holt, her Master-at-Arms and chief of house security; and Sharona Turing, her Chief Analyst. On her right sat 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 studied 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 Schrodinger 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, they were nearly invulnerable, and they were probably endowed 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, he was 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