Inside he found signs of a fight. Chairs and tables were overturned. He ran from room-to-room, checking the closets and any other place he could think of that someone would hide. The house was empty. Then, he remembered Quentin’s lab under the study.
The study itself was tousled. Pictures and documents that had hung from the wall now lie on the floor beneath piles of broken glass.
Babel stopped. He had been running around the house but now stood still. He needed a moment to clear his head so he could think. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt his heartbeat slow. His breathing returned closer to normal. He opened his eyes and found he was more focused; he knew there had to be something in the house that would give him answers and he didn’t want to miss it. Perhaps some sort of message from Quentin.
He slowly walked around the study, looking for anything that might call for his attention. He had only been in the room once and didn’t have everything memorized; he wasn’t entirely sure if he could pick something out that was out of place.
He didn’t notice anything. He went to the box on the back shelf that Quentin had used to open his private lab and just as Quentin had, he gave it a quarter turn counter-clockwise which opened the stairway. He sauntered the stairs and looked around. “How much things change in a day.”
His first inspection gave him nothing. He gave the room a second sweep and nearly missed the item the second time. Only this time, he saw it – a small envelope with his name on it. Inside he found a handwritten note.
Babel,
I am writing this as you leave my home with my niece. There is much you don’t understand and of which I have very little time to tell you. I write and leave this for you in hope that if something happens to me, you will find this.
There are many secrets that the Chokka guarded. Some of which my father did not even know. But their greatest secret is one that my father did know and one that he passed to me. There was a reason that the Chokka were the only people to lead this world for many years. It was not that they were all great leaders, as some were not. But they did possess powers that no one else had. The Chokka shared – however they did – the same energy that makes up the world. These powers were so strong because they came from the energy of the world. That is why the Chokka energy does not completely fade after so many years of no Chokka.
I tell you this because you must find within yourself the power that all Chokka possess. Without this power, you cannot defeat the Klopph. The Keeper took over the world because of his sheer numbers. You can do the same. Find your inner-power and people will follow you. With enough people, you can take the world back.
Be well, Quentin.
Babel read the note twice and the final paragraph a third time. He then folded the note and slid it into his pocket. He glanced around the room once more to make sure there wasn’t something else he was missing before heading back up the stairs. There he closed the floorboards and left the house. He knew he would not be coming back.
Outside, he saw a neighbor pulling his trash to the curb. The man had several barrels that needed to be moved so Babel offered his assistance. When the last can was by the road, the old man thanked Babel. Then, he nodded at Quentin’s house. “I noticed you came out of the house.”
Babel did not see any reason to lie as it was obvious the man had seen him exit the house. “I did. Do you know what happened?”
The man paused for a moment before nodding. Then, he spoke one word, “Klopph.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
The Cancellarrii had woken up in the middle of the night with a face ingrained in his mind. He had only been asleep a few hours and the face had come to him in a dream.
He immediately rose and went to his desk to access the Database. He searched through several old files and articles before coming across cross-referenced information on the former Ministry of Science: the Minister had a son who was killed young.
The Cancellarrii pulled the information on the son. Included with the file was a photo of the boy. The face was similar to what he had seen in his dream, only in his dream, the face had been much older. “He looks familiar.” He read further and discovered that the boy was to be the Tanácsadó, advisor and fill in to the son of the Császár but had died before the initial procedure.
On a hunch he did a progressive photo imaging of what the Minister’s son would look like today if he had lived. When the photo was complete, the Cancellarrii inhaled in surprise. He knew the man at which he was looking. “He works at the university.” The Cancellarrii knew this because he had sought out the man as an expert in history.
Their conversation had been professional – someone had stolen some artifacts from a local museum and the Cancellarrii questioned the history professor as to the value and market of the stolen items. It was the insight of the professor that had allowed them to catch the thief.
“Quentin.” the Cancellarrii read the first name on the screen. “You and I have a few more questions that we must go over.”
He looked up the professor’s known family members and learned the man was married with five children. In addition, the man had a niece. All other relatives were no longer living. He
