“A very laborious process,” Macomber said.
Brewer nodded. Evidently they agreed about that. Brewer was in his fifties, with dark hair and an intense gaze. Before the invasion, he’d been a professor of history and computer science at Harvard. He’d used both those skills to create computer games that had been quite popular. There were, in Simon’s opinion, few men who were more intelligent.
“We just deciphered one of the newest languages,” Brewer said, taking up the thread again. “It’s been quite interesting.” He touched the wireless computer he carried.
Instantly, a page from the Goetia manuscript appeared on one of the large wall screens that surrounded the room. The page showed smoke stains and charring around the edges.
“As you can see,” Brewer said, “this is one of the pages in the manuscript that suffered the most damage during your recovery efforts.”
“It wasn’t exactly something we could avoid doing at the time, mate,” Nathan said defensively. “What with the demons filling that bloody sanitarium and all. Retrieving that manuscript and saving our lives got to be sticky.”
“I quite understand.” Brewer smiled reassuringly. “I meant no disrespect. I know you suffered trying circumstances. What I simply wanted to impart was why it has taken us so long to decipher this page.”
Simon couldn’t help but grin. “You mean, in addition to the fact that it was—until now—an artificial language that no one but the author of that manuscript knew.”
Brewer’s smile broadened. He looked even more tired because of it. “Exactly. You do grasp what we were up against.”
“I do.” Simon noticed cots in the corner of the room. He also noticed that both men appeared to have slept in their clothing. “Have you been getting enough rest?”
Brewer and Macomber swapped looks.
“We’ve been getting what we could,” Macomber said. “We’re all desperate for whatever knowledge might be contained in this manuscript.”
“Get more rest,” Simon suggested.
“The work we’re doing here,” Brewer protested, “is very—”
“—important,” Simon interrupted. “I get that. I also know that you two are the only ones capable of breaking that language—those languages—down. But if you become ill or exhausted, we lose time.”
“We’ve been getting what rest we could.”
“Get more,” Simon said, “or I’ll station a guard in here to put you to bed at night.”
“All right,” Brewer said. Macomber nodded as well.
Simon glanced at the screen. “I suppose you know what we’re looking at.”
“We do.” Brewer indicated sections of the strange looking text. “We’ve spent weeks decrypting this language. Whoever wrote this original manuscript was incredibly intelligent. I would have loved to have met him. This section of the manuscript deals with the Truths.”
“What truths?” Simon asked. “The truths about the demons?”
“That concept at first stymied us, Lord Cross. We thought it was a generic term as well. The manuscript basically states that it’s going to unveil the nature of the Truths. We believe it referred to the fact that demons had been hidden away for so long that no one believed in them anymore.”
“The Templar never forgot the demons existed,” Nathan said quietly.
“No,” Brewer agreed quietly. “But not all of us believed quite so fervently as others.” He looked at Simon.
Guilt surged through Simon.
“You weren’t the only one that didn’t believe, Lord Cross.” Sadness darkened Brewer’s eyes. “I’d become quite complacent in my university calling, and in designing video games. I didn’t spend much time thinking about demons outside of the ones I created for the video games. No one could have been more shocked than me when the Hellgate opened.”
“But these Truths represent something else,” Macomber said. “We don’t know if they’re ideals or if they’re physical things.”
“Physical things?” Simon asked.
“Yes. They way they’re referred to in the manuscript leads us to believe they’re physical things.” Brewer turned back to the image on the wall and read. “‘In order that the demons may be turned back, that the evil tide will be stilled before it is a plague upon the world that cannot be removed, the Truths must be found.’”
As Brewer read, the words formed in English over the manuscript page.
“‘This world is protected against the demons,” Brewer continued. “‘When this world first was made open to the demon hordes, so also were the Truths placed here. For the first time, the Light sowed the seeds of destruction among a world that the Well of Midnight would one day threaten.’”
“‘The first time,’?” Nathan echoed. “How many worlds have these demons invaded?”
“We don’t know,” Macomber admitted. “This manuscript says there are hundreds of worlds out there. Not all of them are populated, but many of them are.”
“And they’ve all gone down under the demons,” Brewer said.
“What made this world special that these ‘Truths’ would be placed here?” Simon asked.
“The manuscript mentions there are warriors of Light in this world.”
“We believed at first that it referred to the Templar,” Macomber said. “But the time period was too far back. The original manuscript was written before the Templar Order was created.”
“In that,” Brewer said, “we disagree. Although the Templar Order got officially established at a later date, the ideals of what the Templar stood for were around for a long time before that. I believe these Truths were given to those men.”
“Then how did they lose something so important?” Nathan asked.
Brewer shook his head.
Macomber did as well. “We don’t know. The manuscript has a way of raising more questions as it gives answers.”
Simon studied the page. “So we don’t know what the Truths are or where they might be found?”
“It’s a conundrum,” Macomber said. “The manuscript simply says, ‘The Truths will be found within, then without. The unlocking of the inside door shall unlock the outside door.’”
“I don’t suppose whoever wrote this could have been a little plainer,” Nathan said.
“It would have helped,” Brewer said. “But at least we know there is some hope out there.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Warren shone his torch around
