Lacrima: Chapter Two
In From the Storm
Lucille spearheaded the group once they discarded their waterlogged umbrellas at the door. Job removed his glasses as he took another look around the interior. From the inside, the windows provided a clear, blue-tinted view of the coast and water outside. The rain outside only sounded against the glass with the walls absorbing the brunt of the noise. Inside, the entryway spilled out as black tiles aligned in a grid. A pair of bent archways, on his right and left, created two portals to spacious hallways. Before them lay a staircase, steps carved from black stone.
As the guests extended themselves further into this initial space, lights came on by the command of motion. Lamps and orbs affixed to the walls slowly warmed to either stark whites or cool blues. Where the wall met the ceiling and the floor, lines of azure pulsed with electric light.
“Hello?” Argus called out. “Anyone home?”
The rest looked around, waiting for a response.
“Esau Nebbel?” Job followed the lead. “We’re your guests. Where are you?”
“Excuse us.” The same voice from the boat reverberated from above. Everyone looked up to see a pane of reflective glass on the ceiling. A humanoid shape stood within the screen, motioning with their hands. Whispers of features sputtered and sparked face, but never quite materialized. “The master is with the King. He is not here to greet you, but he sends his best wishes to his new guests.” Then, the figure flickered away to nothing. The guests were left looking at their black reflections in the glass.
Catherine cleared her throat. “Service, was it? Is that what we need to call you?”
As if summoned, the apparition returned from a cloud of blue pixel static. “Service is the name of us. You are correct, Catherine.”
“What are you?”
Service processed. The image took their hand and put it the semblance of a chin. “We are the servants of this fine house. All guests are treated by us. If you have any questions, we will not hesitate to answer them. Any requests?”
“Can I have a map of this place?”
Another pause. “Yes, you may.” The reflection’s hand spread out. Layouts of the first and second floors appeared.
Catherine squinted, lifting her glasses up from her eyes. “Can I get a physical copy?”
After the mandatory pause, Service said: “Our pleasure. Coming right up.”
In front of Catherine, two tiles sunk into the ground. She stepped back out of reflex. Just as quickly, the twin tiles rose again, bringing with them a sheet of paper. She crouched down and saw a full map of the mansion: the first floor on one side and the second on the other. Both were hollow squares, as the middle housed a courtyard that could apparently be accessed from the first floor. The paper felt warm and the fresh ink shined. Catherine took her hand and tried to press against the tiles. They didn’t budge at all.
‘What in the world,’ she mouthed.
Konrad clicked his tongue. “And some of you doubted this place was haunted.”
“That’s no ghost,” Catherine stated, rising back to her feet and regarding her new map. “But that isn’t technology I’ve ever seen.”
“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic,” Argus said. He brushed his thumb against his beard. “Or the paranormal, in this case.”
Lucille slid towards Catherine and gently turned the paper to the “first floor” side. “When we’re done quoting Arthur C. Clarke, let’s head to the dining room. I haven’t had breakfast yet.”
Job then remembered, I only drank coffee before coming here. He nodded to that. Konrad held his stomach and echoed the nod. Catherine shrugged.
“Now that you mention it,” Bae started. “I would like something to eat.”
Argus snorted and pointed to the stairs. “Shouldn’t we drop off our luggage. I would assume the bedrooms are upstairs.”
“You assume correctly,” Catherine stated as she flipped the map to that side.
“We can leave our stuff and stash them away after breakfast,” Lucille said. “Besides, we need to look around together. By the looks of it, we’ll be the only ones here.”
Argus suppressed a grumble, but raised a hand to concede.
“Good,” she said, pleased. Lucille took the map from Catherine and looked at it. “The dining room is this way. Down the rightmost hall.” Lucille went forward with Konrad and Bae closely behind. Catherine went lockstep a few paces behind them. Job watched as Argus sneered before grabbing his briefcase and started up the stairs.
“You’re not coming with us?” Job asked.
“I’ll get breakfast later,” Argus replied with a ghost of a smile. “I want to get my effects in order. I bid you a short adieu.” He winked before snapping up the stairs, two steps at a time.
Job pursed his lips as he tailed behind the others. His observations pranced in his head as he tried to catch up with a quickened pace.
That Argus fellow… He seemed very sociable… Now he’s trying to excuse himself from the rest of the group.
And ‘just Argus,’ eh. Not only did he not give his last name, but he didn’t want to give it at all…
An inelegant shift if there ever was one.
“...you climb mountains too?” Lucille asked Bae as they walked side by side.
“I love it. It’s part of the reason I came to the states. There’s so much to climb here!” Bae Yuri trilled a laugh. “I climbed the Rockies last summer. This spring I braved Mount McKinley. Here.” She pulled out her phone, flicked on the gallery, and handed the device to Lucille. Enraptured, Lucille slowly drifted through the photos. She caught her breath as she zoomed in a particular vista. Clouds covered half the sky which rose above sprawling peaks inundated with snow. At the height where Bae snapped the picture, the uncovered lands looked like nothing but gray impressions.
“Sadly, I don’t think Lacrima has much elevation,” Lucille said, passing to Bae her phone. As she did, Lucille covertly slipped her arm through the crook of Bae’s elbow. Bae responded by clenching the arm lock.
“No big deal. I’m sure once the rain dies, we could go boating. That seems a bit more in the spirit of the island. Do you think Esau keeps any boats lying around?”
Lucille paused. She looked a bit distressed. A thought passed her before she popped her lips and smirked. “I’m sure.”
Behind them, Catherine scanned the hallway they walked through. It seemed less like a new section of the house and more a mere extension of the entryway. Same black-tiled flooring. Same translucent blue windows. Same filigree lines of light. The air had a gentle chill to it, but Catherine felt no vent-sent breeze. Small trees, bushes, and greenery of all kinds ornamented the rigidity of the mansion’s structure. To her left, she noted the rooms they passed. They passed a room full of typewriters. Another exhaled incense and fine fragrances. One: a meditation area with mats and dull lights.
Konrad gawked at the details. His mind took in the sights and sounds. This strange, idiosyncratic place fit his odd sensibilities and assumptions. “Can’t tell me there isn’t something strange about this place, Cath.”
“Catherine, please,” she sighed. “I do agree with you there though.”
“What are we thinking? I thought ghosts initially, but this is giving extraterrestrial now.”
“In a way.” Catherine hoped playing with Konrad’s words as metaphors would frustrate her less. Even though she guessed that he fully bought into them. In fact, with some distance, Catherine could imagine Konrad as a helpful confidant. “It’s definitely more than a sophisticated digital assistant. More than any smart home hypothetical could dream of.”
Konrad bit the side of his lip in thought. “So it’s all run by Service? Or might there be other entities behind the scenes?”
“Occam’s razor,” Catherine invoked. “Unless we find something besides Service, let’s assume it runs the whole show.”
“That’s still remarkable. More so even,” he marvelled. “God, just how quickly it printed something and delivered it through the floor. We could spend days investigating that.”
With a dry chuckle, Catherine looked to Konrad. “That we could. That we could.”
“Here!” Lucille threw out her arms to halt their movement. She then beckoned them into the wide archway. Within, a long table made of that same black stone stretched from one end of the dining room to the other. It laid bare with no tablecloth or utensils. Five high-backed chairs surrounded the table: one at the head and two on either side. A fireplace burned with a subtle crackle. On the leftmost wall, water came down in a thin curtain before breaking against an inlaid drainage basin. The humble trickle played with the sputtering of the flame. A painting of bodhisattvas and mandalas and the whole of the karmic wheel displayed proudly opposite the water curtain. Ferns, potted in black ceramic, fanned motionlessly wherever they found themselves along the floor.
Job peered at the table. He could see his reflection in the polished stonework. Unmarred with either dust or fingerprints. Looking up, he cleared his throat. The others sought little adventures, so why couldn’t he?
“Service.”
Within the water curtain, a more distorted image of the humanoid silhouette appeared. “Your request, Job?”
“We came here for food. Is there any available?”
“Food is always available to guests. We will send you a menu of the choice selections Lacrima provides. If you have any dietary concerns, don’t hesitate to let us know.”
Job looked to the floor and so did the others. Lucille tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the ceiling. A sheet of card stock floated down before landing onto the tabletop. He picked it up and read aloud for the group.
“Tofu fillets with ginger and tamarind dressing… Seaweed salad garnished with garlic and shallots… Lentil stew…”
“There’s a lot of vegetarian options, for sure,” Konrad noticed.
Lucille gave a cursory glance at the menu before cooing. “I know what we should start with. Service!”
“Yes, Lucille?”
“A round of butterfly pea flower tea please.”
“An excellent choice,” it said. “Please wait a moment.”
Konrad looked at her. “Tea?”
“Not just any tea, hold on,” Lucille assured.
After a brief pause, the water parted. Pushed by invisible hands, a cart wheeled out a full tea set. Slavishly precise blue detailings swept along delicate bone porcelain. The kettle shaped like a male peacock in full bloom breathed steam from its spout-beak. The five tea cups on platters already held a generous portion of purplish-blue drink inside them. A cup of milk and a container of sugar cubes sat adjacent.
Lucille pinched a cup and raised it into the air. Steam wafted up to the ceiling like an offering. “To the host and master of this house. And to us: the guests. May this be the beginning of something beautiful and restoring.”
Catherine took a cup out of mechanical impulse. Bae accepted hers with a polite smile. Konrad, excited, had to keep his shakes down as he handled the platter and teacup. Job grabbed his cup and watched Lucille. Her eyes drank them, the other guests, in. With expectation.
“Cheers,” he said. The others echoed, finally plinking their teacups in the center.
Lucille sipped then drank from the cup. As her hand tilted, her silver ring caught the subdued light. It wasn’t a circlet, but a metal serpent eating its own tail.