As promised, we are delivering the preview of Joan Darcy & the 27th Observer, In the Eye of the Beholder by Patrick Meservier. This is the second title in the Joan Darcy series.
As mentioned previously, Patrick is almost finished writing this exciting second installment. We here at Scribbleworks Publications are over the moon about what the story will bring to Joan's desire to find her past and understand why the alien Carlyss #731 Marcoo, also known as the 27th Observer, is allowing her to keep her memories.
Without further ado, Joan Darcy & The 27th Observer
In The Eye of The Beholder
Joan Darcy and the 27th Observer, In the Eye of the Beholder
February 28, 2013
Chapter 26
An Ugly Buried Secret Floats to the Surface.
February 28, 2013
Chapter 26
An Ugly Buried Secret Floats to the Surface.
Chase started to let her hair down, so to speak. The day was so peaceful. Memories of her childhood came back to her traveling with her parents in the country side. Her mind wandered, an offering of colorful silk scarves at a little sidewalk shop caught her eye. She drifted over to see if any were worth her time. The little shop offered hand made hand bags as well. She let her eyes fall back to her duty of watching the Caldwell children and Joan. They were talking animatedly, smiling, and having a good time. Her gaze fell back to the scarves before her. Some had purple and pink waves, others had crazy pattern of yellows and red. Their texture felt like water to the touch over her fingers. She definitely wanted to buy one but deciding which one would take more time then she had.
She looked back up but there were many tourists passing by. She waited for them to pass so she could lay eyes on the children but the line of tourist’s seem to not end. One in particular stopped right in front of Chase blocking her view. He too was looking at the scarves on the rack. “Excuse me, I wish to but my wife a scarf as a gift, could you help me? I do not understand a woman’s likes and dislikes. I would be most appreciative if...”
The sound of an impromptu band sprang to life. The entire body of tourist began to change quickly. Any line of sight on the children was lost in an instant. Chase tried to move past the old gentleman to find her charges but the man moved very quickly to block her path again. When Chase again attempted to free herself from his inquires, she found a hand had fallen on her shoulder. “Please I really need help in this matter.” The old man said.
Chase looked down on the hand upon her person. Alarms rang in her head. This time she bodily took the old man and tried to move him. “Get out of my or you will get hurt.” Chase said sternly. The man didn’t budge. It was like he weighed as much as a mountain of rock. His hand closed upon her top. “I really need your help miss.”
“Action one!” Chase shouted out so her voice could be heard over the band into her earwig. “Action one!”
Chase did a backflip without any prior indication to the old man catching him off guard. His hand slipped a little but it didn’t release from her top. Her action however allowed her top to be pulled off in the spin. Her scarf slipped off and flew into the air. The light breeze took the red and brown checkered scarf away. All Brown’s must wear appropriate under garments so events like today would not cause undo stress to the guard so they can continue in their duty. She wore a white satin camisole with a sport bra beneath. She needed to act or her charges might be captured or hurt.
Chase performed a dual strike against the old man. She thrust her palm into his neck to inhibit his ability to communicate and fell to the ground in a spin so that one leg was spread out and the other acted as the pivot. The action was to cause the old man to fall over backwards and put him off guard so she could run past him to find her charges. The spry individual that he was, blocked the move to his neck as he fell over backwards to miss the flying outstretched leg. He did a perfect back flip then spun on the spot and disappeared instantly.
Chase stood back up to confront him again and was surprised that he completely vanished before her eyes. She didn’t have time to consider how. It didn’t matter, she ran into the parade shouting for the children. Panic gripped her.
Milton remained trapped between the old man and his wife. They were all pressed together rather tightly for his tastes considering that he didn’t know them. Not to mention that the old man’s hand was holding him in place very tightly. The strength of his grip reminded him of when his mother dragged him to his room on those few occasions when he deserved a good dragging, except that she may have been kinder than this guy. He wished that Miranda would hurry up so he could start looking for Joan. He couldn't see her anywhere. Worry showed on his face. “Hurry up, will you!” He shouted.
Miranda, on the other hand, struggled with the camera. She was too involved to understand the passage of time. Every second she toyed with the buttons to make the device work the longer Joan was slipping away. When she thought she had it all figured out she pressed it to her face.
“Everyone smile!” Miranda said over the din of the crowd. Two ugly smiles faced her and one frown came back at her. She pushed the button but nothing happened. Frustrated she opened the battery case and moved the batteries around. “Milton I think you need to look at this... I think, wait... I got it!” The camera came to life with the lens humming as it moved. She put the camera back to her face. “Smile!”
Miranda lined up the shot while the couple shuffled around to be away from passing tourists. That’s when she noticed the old man’s hand tightly gripping her brother’s shirt by his neck and Milton’s face showing serious worry. The camera flash blinked. Suddenly the old man and his wife were gone. Milton stood all alone. The gathers of his shirt were still bunched up where a now missing hand once held him tight. Milton blinked several times because of the bright flash. He only noticed that he was alone when a family pushing a baby carriage stopped in front of him. In German the mother of the baby started to speak to her child.
Milton blinked some more. Miranda ran up. She was running off at the mouth about the couple disappearing, her excitement overflowing. When Milton came back, intense realization stole over him. Joan was gone. He didn’t know where to start looking. He took his sister’s hand and dragged her down the street behind him towards the parade looking for Joan.
The loud instruments of the band filled Joan’s ears. The parade separated her to be across the street from her friends. Yet the band continued towards her. Joan ran forward some more to get away from the jubilation but it continued to follow her, even next to the buildings. There were no sidewalks in the old part of town and the parade decided to fill the entire street. A tall thin man, who was at the head of the crowd of tourists, was trying to get away from the parade as well. He bumped into her.
“I’m so sorry. I think we should try this route to get away.” The kind gentleman said in clear English with a strong European accent.
The tall man had dark short hair and a light colored hat that was sold at many of the tourist shops to offer inexpensive shade from the intense sun. He led Joan down an alley way. Many other tourists followed them in. When the traveling band stayed true to the road most of the tourist turned back to follow them or to find their displaced family members. Joan turned with the others to walk back out but her way was blocked by the kind gentleman. She stopped confused at why the gentleman was staring at her. A tear from his eye streamed down his cheek. She felt that he was moved by her in some way.
“Forgive me but I have noticed that you carry the resemblance of someone I know. She is famous in this part of the world. Is it possible that your name is Joan D’Arc?”
Joan didn’t know what to say. He seemed so kind. He even shed a tear when he looked down upon her. She noticed that he clearly stood much taller than she. “I’m sorry I don’t know anyone with that name.” Joan started to step back in fear.
“Think back to the days of old, before technology, before science, when religion guided everyone in the world. Do you remember that far back? In that time you were known as Joan D’Arc.”
Joan took another step back clearly confused about what this nice man was trying to say. “Like I said, I think you have mistaken me with someone else.” Joan said in a shaky voice.
The tall man followed Joan in step remaining a specific distance away but not falling back either. “I believe you struggle with your memories Joan Darcy. Yes I know that is what you are called now. I can show you all that you desire. I can help you remember your entire history. Where you have been, who it is was you spoke with and which battles you fought in. I can recall every hour of every day in your bestowed life.”
Joan took further steps back now becoming more afraid of who this person really was but somehow enticed to discover once and for all for whom she really was. She was told that Joan of Arc wasn’t her name. She was told that she was born hundreds of years after her death but this man knew how old she was. She was told that the Observer Program witness her birth, yes she remembered that little part. If the Observer Program was so sure that she is not Joan of Arc then what was this man trying to say? Does he really know her history, all 374 years worth?
Suddenly she felt they were alone in the alley. The hair rose on the back of her neck. Everyone in town was watching the parade. Fear gripped Joan. Her stomach tightened then everything slowed down. The singing and cheers of the parade became distant and muted. The speed at which everyone spoke became slow and drawn out. Joan prepared to run or defend herself. The tall gentleman appeared to not be move moving or talking, his position was as still as a pillar of salt. Then he blinked his eyes and gave a small shudder before speaking in a normal tone and moving in a normal way.. This simple act surprised Joan more then the fear that stung her. He wasn’t supposed to be able to talk or act in a normal way when she was in this state. He extended his hand outward, palm up.
Joan never understood how this particular event happened in her life but she recognized the signs before it happened. Mainly it was a mechanism that allowed her to survive, it served no other purpose otherwise. But today this tall man who stood before her was able to interact with her at a level she never remembered seeing happen before. The entire world around her had slowed to a crawl yet the man in front of her wasn’t affected.
“I see that you are full of fear. I present no danger. I only wish to convey that there are other reasons for your long history and memory gaps. I only wish to offer you the truth about who you are and where you belong. I know that you are full of desire and seek only the truth. You only need to look inside yourself and you will understand the love and love’s lost to reclaim those memories which you seek.” The man then knelt prostrate before her. His light colored hat fell off and it landed on the ground before him.
As though someone turned on a switch, reality snapped back with a rush of noise on her senses from the parade. Joan bent over to pick up the hat for the old man, her senses went back to normal, but suddenly the sounds of hard running came in all around Joan. She threw the hat in the air to take a position to fight.
Instinctively Joan tried to protect the old man who knelt before her by placing her body between the rush of people coming at her and the kneeling man. The quick pace of the coming event did not allow her a presence of mind to make a well informed decision. So she acted to protect and not flee without looking at the old gentleman, he did not present himself as a threat.
Women in brown summer uniforms, all wearing berets with red and the brown checkered designs ran in ready to kill anyone in the alley other than Joan. But she suddenly found that there was no one there next to her. The gentleman had vanished, completely and utterly disappeared like a magician. Joan’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Only a light colored hat floated down lightly to the ground from her tossing up high and out of the way moments earlier.
Eleven Brown’s took up fighting positions around Joan facing any coming threats. Isidore Brown walked up afterwards with three armed men in street clothes. Her head turned one way then the other searching the narrow alley. She pointed to the end of the ally. “Close off the entire street. Call the van over. We leave in four minutes.” The men ran off shouting into cell phones.
“What happened? Isidore demanded, full of concern.
“Nothing. A nice man helped me get away from the crazy parade then disappeared, that’s all.” Joan lied before picking up the hat and looking inside. “He was wearing this.”
The sound of the van backing up filled the narrow alley. Isidore took the hat from Joan to investigate further but found nothing out of the ordinary. She handed it back to her before shouting instructions as the van started to back up.
Joan felt funny about who this man was and what he was saying. She lied about what happened but she couldn’t put a finger on why. He knew about how old she was, knew her name, and even surmised that she was Joan of Arc. Who else would know any of that information other than the Observer Program? Joan looked the hat all over. She noticed a slip of paper hidden in the brim, under the ribbon, with only the corner showing. She slipped it out but Isidore turned on her before she could read it. Joan hid it in her palm before Isidore could see what she had. She wasn’t sure why she needed to keep it hidden but it felt like the right thing to do.
“I’ll take that. We need to investigate if there are any clues hidden inside to the identity of this man.” She took the hat then turned back to the armed men. “We leave in one minute.”
Joan slipped the paper into her pocket. “Where’s Milton and...”
“They have already been ushered away to safety.” Isidore said with impatience before shouting to her people. “We will debrief back at the chateau. Let’s go everyone!”
Now that the parade had dispersed the crowds attention turned to what was going on in the alley. Many faces tried to see past the armed men at each end of the alley. When a van had backed in many knew that all the men and women in the alley would not fit inside. Oddly a crowd of women moved as one towards the door as one but only one individual at its center with black hair entered. No one could see anymore of the individual through the throng of brown attire that every woman wore. Quickly the door closed and it sped off.
Isidore looked at the hat more carefully now that Joan was on her way back to the chateau. Inside she could make out several dark strands of hair the gentleman left behind. She smiled and said softly, “We will soon discover who you are, magician.”
Clyde Savage sat in the white BMW with the driver, Claude. The time seemed to stretch on for hours. As expected the driver never said a word or looked in the rear view mirror to see what he was doing. Clyde made several business related calls from the satellite phone that Rousel gave him. If it weren’t for his silent partner, that seemed to not be so silent anymore and continued to call him after the finding the counterfeit casket, he would feel better after seeing what the scan would show him.
He had to admit that he was afraid of what the film might show. Worse, he was further afraid of his silent partner finding out that he was checking into his unique ability to know where he was any place on the planet and what we was saying. To hide his actions, he made sure that the test occurred during the night and that he waited in front of a hotel for the film trying to show that he was in a hotel room. Sometimes the exact location using GPS was off slightly and was hoped it would go unnoticed. This whole night he also hoped that his phone wouldn’t ring either. In his mind he knew that if he shut it off any messages would go straight to voice mail. That would trigger questions he couldn’t answer properly. He felt so stressed.
Sleep tugged at his eyelids. The driver, Claude had not moved for a while. Clyde assumed that he drifted off and was sleeping.
Rousel, who was to arrive by cab, was supposed to meet him when he attained the film but he had to admit that it was taking far too long. Clyde was getting worried, which brought up a good question. If Rousel didn’t turn up and he asked Claude to drive him to Africa, would he do it? They were related after all and when one family member died through an encounter with the law or other tugs, this business was a dirty one after all, would the other continue on? He decided to make back up plans here in Europe. He needed to call someone he could trust from the states to be on standby as a precautionary measure. Have that individual stay somewhere near by and wait by the phone. But that phone call would wait until he was alone.
The traffic through the night had been very slow. Every time a vehicle drove down the street from behind, Clyde couldn’t help looking over his shoulder to see if it was a cab with Rousel in it. It had been over four hours now. He was getting edgy. All Rousel was to do was head over to see the technician and obtain the film then follow him to the facility where the imaging took place. Then watch him erase every last record of the unit being used. Pay the guy for his troubles and head back. But four hours... The facility was just down the street after all. Rousel could walk back if it came down to it. It was agreed upon that Clyde could not travel to pick Rousel up. That meant that Clyde had to trust Rousel with everything. Where the hell was he!
Clyde started to drift off. He couldn’t stay awake any longer. The waiting acted like a sleep agent. A bad dream had begun in Clyde’s mind.
Someone had entered the BMW waking him from his sleep. It was his silent partner holding a gun. He held a similar image as Clyde. He had blond hair, tall, and thin from over work with a weary face.
“I’ve been looking for you." The man stated. "Why are you hiding here in front of a hotel?” The gun wavered in his hand.
Clyde didn’t know what to say. He stammered. “I... um, I’m not sure what you’re trying to imply.”
“You have the note? I want it. You can’t keep it from me, give it to me...” The man closed the door and told the driver to, “Drive.”
The action of slamming the door caused Clyde to open his eyes awakening him from his slumber. Rousel sat in the same position as his dream latent silent partner had sat in moments ago. Instead of holding a pistol, Rousel was holding the film.
“Where in the hell have you been!” Clyde shouted at Rousel, anger forcing him into a quick arousal.
The driver shook awake at the shouting.
“I have been up all night waiting....” Clyde tried to wipe his eyes with his hands but he was angry and stopped before he was done.
“I had to clean up a mess. I have the film though and you will not like what it shows. There are three GPS tags inside your body.” Rousel quickly revealed.
Clyde sighed heavily then put a finger to his lips to indicate silence when talking about the tags. Claude couldn’t resist looking into the mirror to see what was going on. Clyde took the film and put it up to the near by street lamps light to see the markers. Claude turned on the dome light to aid Clyde’s search for the tags. A large negative, looking like X-Ray film, showed the whole body of Clyde Savage prone upon the film in eight locations. Each location showed a different level in Clyde’s body. In three different slides a single tag showed up, one in his left arm, one in his right leg, and the last in his left side below the last rib.
A fire truck flew down the street past the white BMW X1. Clyde looked over his shoulder. He saw a large fire raging behind him. His eyes grew. Rousel nodded to his cousin indicating him to drive. Claude did as he was told. They left as other fire trucks headed their way. Clyde took out a pad of paper from his back pack. He scribbled something on it then handed it to Rousel.
“Is the fire your fault?”
Rousel nodded and took the pad and wrote his answer.
“The scanning equipment wouldn’t erase the record of your visit. I was forced to destroy the computer then set it on fire. The technician said that what we did will destroy all the records. That is why I am so late, we tried for a long time to erase you from the hard drive.”
Clyde nodded then began to speak. ”Claude please take me to the public library. We have an investigation to begin.”
Rousel and Clyde sat back in their seats. Rousel tossed the film into the back. As they drove other emergency responders passed them. Rousel tuned back to Clyde. “Why is that piece of parchment we took from the Forteresse de Châtel-sur-Moselle so important?”
Clyde had his eyes at half mast. He couldn’t tell if he was so tired because he had been up most of the night or that he discovered that he had more then one GPS tag inside of him. When he gave it more thought the idea that there were three disturbed him. Why three? Rousel’s question took him off guard but he bounced back seamlessly.
“There is a prize at the end if the string of clues I have been searching for my entire life. There are artifacts that have special properties. I’m supposed to collect three of them and together they will send me to another place. My silent partner has been searching for these artifacts for much longer then me and my uncle before me. This silent partner is not so silent anymore. He has been pushing me to finish finding them lately.
“This particular clue was not what we expected to find. We were supposed to find the casket. The casket contains several items of importance, one being the clue to finding a mirror. The mirror is the most sacred of all the artifacts. I will spare you my life story that led us here but the item we found that gave us information to the casket was from an unreliable source. I knew that from the beginning. But the information appeared to be correct. It had all the marks of a true source, so we had to try. Because it was from an unreliable source I came prepared to the Chatel sur Moselle. I knew someone would die. That’s how they work. Now I have another clue to work out but no casket. I’m weary and tired from this process repeating itself over and over..”
Rousel’s eyes were very open to what Clyde had just said. “Are you saying this is a treasure hunt?” A hint of excitement in his tone.
Clyde nodded a little. “Kind of. They are not artifacts that go into a museum. They have a mysterious power.” Clyde reached in his pocket and withdrew the pocket watch. “I am told this is a type of compass. It will point me to the artifact nearest to me. However these artifacts are few in number.” The hands on the compass began spinning backwards until they came together to some point off in the distance on the left side of the car.
Rousel changed the position he was sitting in. He stared at the watch’s configuration then out into the dawn lit horizon. “Well, let’s go then. Just follow the compass!” Excitement clearly evident in his voice. Clyde used to feel that way years ago. Now he wanted to give it all up and rest. He put his hand through his hair.
“Don’t you think I have not tried that? It’s a big planet you know.” Clyde followed with a bitter tone in his voice. “Our best bet is to follow the clues. When we get close we open the compass and let it find the next artifact. And the next clue is to follow the French nobleman’s family line, Jean-Baptiste Gaston.”
Rousel shrugged his shoulders. “What does that matter? Hundreds of years ago, he’s dead.”
“It means that one of his descendants holds the key to where it’s hidden. Sometimes something truly important will pass down a family line so that there is always a regent to watch over a legacy either to keep it safe or hidden. Sometimes there are secrets so fantastic that you can never trust anyone except family to properly hide its existence. And sometimes that family will eventually make a mistake or leave a clue as to where it is hidden because they do not want the responsibility of it anymore.” Clyde finished.
Rousel sat back in his seat and thought about what information was given to him. He fought over the fantasy aspect of Clyde’s story. Could anything like what he was saying be true? Savage spent his whole life looking for these artifacts. He heard the phone call from his partner and his intense desire to obtain the casket. He was very angry when the box was a fake. It seemed to be a strange business to be in, but money was money. Then something struck Rousel. “So, who was it that left the clue?”
Clyde turned to Rousel and he had the sourest look on his face. “The Catholic Church.”
In disbelief Rousel’s jaw fell open. He had never heard of such a thing.
Father Valmey prepared his holiness’s office for another day of business. Unlike the pope, his day began many hours earlier. In his day uniform of black priest attire he opened the register of appointments then called down to the guard’s office to alert them of what guests were scheduled to arrive for the first half of the day. Today was the one Saturday in the month where his holiness, Pope Sixtus, held appointments.
He hung up and began to arrange the room to accept his holiness's first appointment. The first was with a nun from Brazil. He arranged the seating to accommodate one guest and his holiness in an informal way which required two chairs with a coffee table between them. The table requirements were such, a vase of fresh flowers, a platter of scones from the pope’s personal chef and two carafes, one of black coffee and the other orange juice with two ornate cups right side up with a card with a papal stamp covering each of them.
After the office was set up, Father Valmey stood up straight and scanned the room. He remembered to go over and turn on all the recording devices around the room as required by the Swiss guard for his protection. He felt his office duties were done for now. He checked his watch and looked at the door on the side of the room that led out to the Pope’s personal apartment. In a few minutes he was to wake is holiness and... A knock came to the door.
Anger flared in his eyes. Who dare knock this early?! Father Valmey stormed over to the door.
Father Amerigo stood before the door trying to catch his breath, his black priest’s attire still steaming from being recently pressed into the cool air of the hall, it’s crisp lines sharp enough to cut anyone who touched him. The door flew open hard enough to knock someone out if they stood close enough. Its weight would certainly cause damage if they were hit by it. Father Amerigo stood far enough away to be safe. Father Valmey poked his head out and without waiting for the knocker to speak, he mutedly shouted to “Leave and come back later.” The door closed quickly without warning.
“I am here at his holiness’s request.” Amerigo said softly. The door opened again, albeit more slowly this time.
“That’s impossible, he is still asleep. I have not wakened him.” Father Valmey stated harshly.
“He asked that I come before his first appointment. Therefore I am here.” Amerigo stated plainly.Valmey’s eyes moved to the side thinking. “But I’ve not awakened him yet.” He mumbled to himself.
Amerigo looked down to the floor when Father Valmey returned his gaze upon him. He noticed Amerigo’s head bowed and he knew that his holiness had risen and was perhaps behind him. Father Valmey moved aside to allow Amerigo into the office.
“Please come in.” Sixtus said on a low tone. He turned to Vamley. Please go down and get two cups of very strong coffee.”
Valmey looked down on the carafe of coffee right next to him on the coffee table and stammered, “But...”
Sixtus nodded. “Two cups please, very strong.”
Valmey bit his lip then left out the still open door. The papal guards who stood outside the office door never smiled or gave any inclination as to the conversation before them. One reached out to grab the still open door and closed it as Father Valmey ran down the hall. Sixtus went to his desk and pushed the button that shut off the recording sensors in the room.
“You have three minutes of my time.” Sixtus said as he sat in his chair. Amerigo poured him a cup of coffee from the standing carafe then sat himself. He took a scone for his efforts.
“I have met the Joan Anne Darcy.” Amerigo became suddenly choked up. He sniffed once and regained his composure. Her power washed over me and I felt safe for the first time in my life. It was intense. I am sorry that you could not be the first of the church to speak to her.” Amerigo bowed his head.
“I am glad you have made first contact. How do you feel it went?” Sixtus asked before taking a sip from his cup.
“Although she is eminently strong, there is a visible gap in her memory. As you surmised, she questions her past and who she really is. I believe I have laid down enough bread crumbs, in her mind, that we can provide her with all her memories. But if you’ll excuse me for asking, we cannot provide any of the memories that I promised give to her. Did we not lie to a saint?” Amerigo took a nibble from his scone.
“You need to understand that although we cannot provide every memory she desires, we can provoke those that are buried deep in her mind to surface. So in a way you did not miss speak. We can, in time, fill all those gaps so she can have her full life back and in time fulfill her duty to God. Our duty here is to draw her back, nothing more.” Sixtus said.
“But what about those who keep her captive?” Amerigo asked as he tossed back the last of his Scone.
Sixtus put down his coffee and nodded at Amerigo. “The terrible secret they hide from her will surface one day. And I am glad we are safe here in Vatican City. For I believe, once that secret is either divulged or remembered, hell hath no fury as the soldiers saint upon the damned. Not even the Archangel Michael will be able to save them. Remember she destroyed an entire city to escape it, imagine what would happen if she became angry?”
Amerigo stood and crossed the room a tear upon his face at the power Joan Anne Darcy represented and those who might die in the process of bringing her back to the church. When he got to the door a knock came from the other side. Amerigo opened the door and let Valmey in. He stood holding two cups of coffee, steam rising into the cold air. Valmey looked upon the black attire of Father Amerigo as he walked past him to leave and saw crumbs on his chest which he followed to the chair he set up for the first appointment. There he saw a half full cup of coffee. Pope Sixtus stood then started back to his apartment.
A vein pulsed in Valmey's forehead at their indecency to the attention of his work. He began to rage inside. Now he had to revisit his set up procedure of the office before his holiness’s first appointment. In five minutes time his whole day was destroyed.
