August 30 - 58
Dear Prof. G. Savage
I write to you this day with mounting concern about the public knowledge of the missing artefacts of Dr. Prendergast and other assorted anomalies. Whilst I am sure the general populous remain ignorant as to the spread of this strangeness there is inescapable evidence of a specific band for whom curiosity in our efforts is mounting. To this end the Natural Sciences department of West Merton College has recently endured at least one significant invasion of privacy. Of this you are clearly aware, however the issue may be more convoluted than originally feared, extending the fears arisen by the events at Loch Llenli. Furthermore in this letter I intend to explain fully the unforeseeable and unavoidable loss of Mr. Standler from our staff during experimentation. As such I present to you the details of my worrying investigation into this attack and the issue of the Kalopsia Fractal.
The Evening Invaders
With my focus deep in study I was not inconsiderably excited by a slight scratching at the office door. Puzzled, I turned my head to better listen and no sooner had it had begun that it ceased. I stood perplexed and opened the door to find no-body and not a thing on the other side. I closed the door once more, reseated myself at my desk and continued my studies unabated. Perhaps, I consoled myself, one of the mice from the students' biology theatres had made escape, as has occurred previously. A few moments later, I heard the scraping once more, followed by hurried footsteps echoing down the hall. Again I investigated, finding no sign of man nor any tampering with the door or surrounding areas.
A short time later a hurried rapping arrived at my door. With curiosity garnered for this more obvious attempt to grasp my attention, I turned to find Dr. Jameson, the college's administration officer, wearing a slightly hunched posture and fearful eyes. I began to ask him what-ever the matter was, when at once he raised his hand, a finger suspended in front of my face. I instantly quietened, as he whispered to me that he had sighted intruders entering the college grounds. I turned back into my office and retrieved from the corner cabinet my hunting rifle, acquired during my days studying in the continental plains and the deserts of Gantora. I had endured the hideousness of home invasion myself and found a firearm to be a powerful deterrent, even if not equipped with ammunition. With that we departed my office, locked the door with my personal key, and followed Dr. Jameson on a trail through the corridors of the college in search of the invaders.
After a short while of systematic searching we passed the door to the store-room vault, which we noticed was slightly ajar. We entered the room, rifle wielded ahead, wherein we spied three human shadows shuffling in the gloom. With mounting nervousness, but facade of determination, I called out for them to surrender themselves, and of a sudden the larger of the shadows called the others to escape. An awkward dance around artefacts and tables ensued, after which the rather more agile trio escaped through the vault door, having tricked us away. We pursued the dark thieves through the complex before arriving at the dining hall entrance, the only besides the main gate leading into, or out of, the college. We could see shadows clambering over the wall opposite, signalling the chase's end. Given that Dr. Jameson was stationed at the main gate it is safe to assume this is where our evasive trespassers had entered, and yet he remained convinced that had seen four shadows prowling the hallways. We, shaken and tiring, scoured the complex as best we may but encountered no additional thief. We assumed that either he had escaped prior or the good doctor's eyes were deceived by the dim light.
The following morning I gathered the appropriate staff to the vault to ensure nothing had been taken, and by good fortune all was accounted for. I have tasked the care-takers of the college to install additional security features to the vault in addition to the dining hall entrance, lest we endure a repeat invasion.
Whilst bizarre of its-self, the singular interest came the following night, at approximately the same time, when I was to be found at my desk writing correspondence to a research fellow, hunting rifle at my side. An additional trustworthy man had been tasked to guard the dining hall entrance that night, whilst the main gate was once more being observed by Dr. Jameson, thus no-body could enter or exit the college without passing either one or investing in significant tunnelling equipment.
Whilst deep in thought, all-of-a-sudden my study door was catapulted open and through it fell a dark-clothed youth laughing with absolute abandon. He collapsed to the floor, clutching his sides and writhed there for some time, guffawing as long as his lungs would allow before gasping what air he could. By instinct I now stood above him, barrel thrust to intimidate. Some time passed and it seemed he could not focus on the weapon, swaying side-to-side on my study floor. Before long Dr. Jameson had arrived to investigate the nuisance, only to be baffled by what he saw. I asked him to fetch a constable to detain the boy and enlisted the help of the additional guardsman to once again search the complex - to wit nought suspicious was found.
Still perplexed by the evening's events, I was invited the following morning by the local chief constable to discuss and detail the night to him. I told what little I could, I sense nothing the man did not already know, before he led me to the intruder. Before we had even arrived at his cell door I was aware of his presence: he appeared to still be laughing with great intensity, although the sounds were less of merriment and more of desperation. He laid upon his cell floor, embracing his torso, tears flowing along his cheeks and staining the stone below. I can only imagine how painful such an extremely enduring and long-continued exercise would be to such a boy, and pondered what could have triggered such a physical and psychological torture. Interrogating the prisoner was no viable option, but the police-man produced a slip of paper in his possession upon which was a hand written note. The note was brief but detailed instructions to break through the college security - in an implied but unspecified manner - and procure a specific list of items, each of which had connections to Dr. Prendergast. The note provided an address to deliver the stolen artefacts to and was signed at the base with a calligraphic 'I'. I thanked the constable and left him to his resident maniac.
The address on the note read 14b Kalopsia Lane, a small optimistically entitled residential road in the north-east of the city, build primarily of red brick, glass and ruin. My thoughts wandered in the cab, and settled upon the question of how the most recent thief had found his way into the college unnoticed. Neither Dr. Jameson nor the guardsman perceived any suspicious activity that evening and both men are sound to my knowledge. Dr. Jameson did make mention of a fourth character the night before: perhaps, I considered, he had remained hidden in a nook of college throughout the day. This I found unlikely, as the college is supremely busy in the day and, if I may say, is far from a substantial sized institute for the staff count. The likelihood of stowing oneself away successfully within such a building without detection for twenty four hours is minuscule at best. Besides clambering over the building and landing in the central quad whilst avoiding sight through the many windows, yet another highly risky manoeuvre, I could envisage no way of entering the building.
Before long I arrived at the address, a building deprived of both maintenance and charm. There I met Mr. Brimley and Miss Watson, for whom I had fetched to help aid me in this endeavour, the former for protection from the unknown, the latter to play the unknown at their own game. The two seemed in high spirits, long had it been since our last outing. The Boy could not be called for, as he was currently supervising his father's estate, begrudgingly of course.
Having briefly informed my fellows of the circumstances we made our entrance, swiftly passing through the main hall and proceeding up the stairs to the failing door of the bed-sitting room. Therein we found the door readily open offering a glimpse of the gloom within. No light came from the room, nought but the faint sounds of sobbing could be heard within.
Tentatively I made my way in, and no sooner had I laid hand upon the door than I was pounced upon by a pair of hooded hooligans. I collapsed to the floor, paralysed with the surprise as I clenched my eyes closed in a vain hope to avoid the oncoming assault. I could feel them writhing upon me as a struggle ensued, before the pressure and commotion were released. I reopened my eyes from my undignified position on the floor to see the stoic Brimley holding the youths aloft, one struggling to be freed the other unconscious. I stood, brushing the ash from my cuffs and sincerely thanked my friend, having now marked up a third favour in his debt. I instructed him to deliver the youths to the cells and return for the third figure in the room, currently immobile, when done.
This third figure sat huddled in a far corner, head-to-knees and audibly bellowing his despair. This man possessed a remarkable similarity to the thief back in the cell, both in sombre clothing an unmovable emotional disposition, if perhaps an opposing state. After attempts at both consolation and force we determined the man inconsolable to whatever misery he had endured.
I had begun to make my leave before Miss Watson brought notice to a key in the lock of the door, clear of the fire damage the remainder of the room endured, and curious that it would be in the lock of an open door on the inside. I confess at the time I could not quite get my mind around this significance, but her reasoning led us to the discovery of a most curious key, one the eye does not take kindly to seeing. We procured the key, left the mystery man to his sadness and proceeded back to the police station to inform them of the events and their connection to their prisoner. I thanked my partners and bid them leave, though Miss Watson insisted she remained to investigate the curious artefact we had found in the room, which I have subsequently dubbed 'The Kalopsia Fractal'.
The Study: The Kalopsia Fractal
The key we removed from the lock is of great visual and practical interest. The handle is of cast iron, fairly low-quality and rather unremarkable. Upon the summit of the handle are embossed the symbols 'WS-05'. Attached to the handle, in some way a metallurgist may perhaps better describe, is a bronze disc of sorts which is impossible to correctly describe - a fact I keep distinct from my own procrastinations and inabilities. The most appropriate description I can muster is that of infinitely many teeth of indeterminate length emanating from the centre. A slight turn of the head is enough for the entire configuration of the teeth to change, so much so that the slight natural vibrations and movements of the head and eyes cause the disc to appear as something of a sharpened blur. I confess I initially believed this to be a fault of my already failing eyesight before Miss Watson and several colleagues reinforced the sight. The description of sharpened teeth arose only by locking down the object to a desk before clasping my head in a vice to keep it stable - even then the task was difficult, let alone uncomfortable.
Miss Watson has identified the handle as originating from Wilmot & Sons' locksmiths, not half a mile from Madistone house. It is not then beyond imagination that this artefact is the work of Dr. Prendergast, reinforced by the directions given to the ruffians who wielded it.
I recall a mathematician friend of mine - such a corrupting influence they hold over my scientific mind - once attempting to describe to me the concept of what he called `fractals' and some philosophical curiosity called infinitely changing functions. These describe objects with points of infinitesimal width, no density and are confusing to both the eye and mind, as if carefully arranged but impossibly fine dust. I confess I did not fully understand his meaning, but upon sight of this object I was delivered back to that moment in time and was subsequently in receipt of the same head-ache. I thus dubbed the disc a 'fractal', as good a name as any in the circumstances.
The fractal is incredibly sharp to the touch tearing through cloth and flesh as if it were not present. This is understandable given that the smaller an object's surface area the greater the pressure the object imparts, hence infinitely many infinitesimally thin teeth would be incredibly adept at cutting. It is for this reason we have not attempted removal of the handle, lest we cannot safely manipulate the fractal on its own. It is my recommendation to not keep the key in ones coat or trouser pocket, for obvious reasons, and to hold it by the handle when in use and lay it on its side in a stable wooden or metallic box when not.
Its most remarkable property, however, is in its application as a key. A simple mental connection implied that a key with infinitely many teeth in possession of our nocturnal invaders would be effective in opening many locks. Sure enough simple experimentation through the halls and offices of the department indicated that any locked door the key could oppose it could open. We attempted to examine the effect upon the fractal of being placed in the mechanism, but a combination of poor lighting and indeterminate shape led to nothing conclusive. A point of intrigue is that once the lock has been opened with the fractal, upon the door's closing it automatically locks itself once more. This is perfect for espionage as one's path is untraceable, and that one's pursuers shall be greatly slowed. Naturally this sparked considerable excitement in Miss Watson, as alive and focused as ever I knew her, and so our experiments widened.
Enlisting the help of several research associates, including Mr. Standler, we began to prowl the University in search of different shapes of lock. Fortunately, as the University and its colleges have grown in a biological fashion, branching and winding with time, the fixtures vary significantly in date and construction between each department. We navigated the halls of the Departments for Language and Literature, Sciences, Philosophy, Politics and Art with free abandon, unlocking each and every door which confronted us, noting down the difficulties and techniques required to tackle each style of mechanism. A list of these locks, their locations and techniques required can be found with this letter, headed 'Kalopsia Fractal Practical Testing, #1 - 427'.
It was in the Department of Art, outside the office of Mr. Pilcher, that we encountered a glimpse into the unfortunate yet paranormal effects of the fractal. Mr. Standler applied the fractal upon the door and the moment the door was unsealed all in our party felt a sharp buzzing sensation in our heads. A fast vibration through the ears or teeth of great amplitude, akin to the chillings sensation of hearing scratched metal or slate but on a vast scale, afflicted most in our party paralysing us. I clutched my head, gradually falling to the floor, as I saw Mr. Standler pass through the door into the office of Mr. Pilcher. Moments later the feeling had passed and, after a suitable time to recover we noticed the absence of Mr. Standler and the presence of the fractal in the lock. We verified with one another that our experiences were shared, still a fraction dazed, when the door to the office was opened by Mr. Pilcher. He asked why we were making such a commotion outside his room. We were surprised, not least since as the day was Sunday and we had expected the halls to be empty. When pressed he mentioned that nobody had so far entered his office, the first he heard was a scraping upon his door handle and then us conversing in loud volume.
This event was perplexing: we had no explanation for the debilitating vibration we had shared nor for the whereabouts of Mr. Standler. Miss Watson asked Mr. Pilcher if he kept his door locked when inside, to which he replied no. She suggested that perhaps the fractal induces curious effects when used on a mechanism already unlocked. I recalled the events of the initial invasion two nights previous and the curious scratching at my door which led to nothing. I had left my door unlocked that night also, perhaps the same had happened then. I at once recalled the following evening, the poor chap who had burst into the room with an uncontrollable laughter, and the man in the bed-sitting room on Kalopsia Lane sobbing incessantly with the key in the lock of the open door. I feared for the fate of Mr. Standler and instructed the group to search as best we can, asking Mr. Pilcher to be alert for his sudden reappearance through the same door the next day.
Sure enough the following day, precisely twenty four hours after our excursion, Mr. Pilcher was shocked to see Mr. Standler scuttle through his office door in a dazed confusion. He called for us immediately and we duly led him to the nearby hospice. Perhaps by good fortune his condition was preferable to that of the ruffians, as he now seems in perpetual awe and examination of his surroundings. Incapable of focus on a specific task, any moving object or change of attention leads him to become infatuated with something else, submersed in its admiration. He walks as a small child, shuffling awkwardly wide-eyed towards his object of desire. The visiting psychologist examined his state and, to my great surprise, described his condition as a severe case of Kalopsia, the persistent infatuation with the beauty of the world around him. Whether this was coincidence or whether some subconscious or psychological trigger led to this is beyond any of our current reasoning. However I am glad Mr. Standler's affliction is less undesirable than the invaders, even though it shows no sign of waning. Having encountered his not insignificant gift with words in his academic reports he may be persuaded to follow a career as a romantic poet. I think it best to look on the brighter side, especially given that he has no choice.
You will find the Kalopsia Fractal - having now explained its name and function - with this letter alongside my suggestion: it should only be used in emergencies and under the certainty that its target is already locked. Miss Watson was saddened to see the fractal leave, although I suspect it may have taken the enjoyment and invention from her skill had she kept it. I trust that you understand the unfortunate results of this study were largely unavoidable and that we shall, in the future, exercise significant caution when testing.
Attached you shall also find the letter found in the cloak of the laughing boy, and a further note found on the person of the sobbing lad. The insignia 'I' remains on both, and holds a striking resemblance to a previous artefact, as well as my persistent fears explained to you previously. This matter must not escape our attentions any longer, and I propose that measures be made to either secure the collection, confront our antagonist or both.
I trust this finds you well.
Yours,
Dr. Nicholas P. Henderson.
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