Tales of the VOID

Tales of the VOID

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The Strange Case of Milton Edwards, MA, PhD A Reconstruction by Curtis & Tracy Hickman Based on Historical Events

Casefile #551126 Exhibit D / V4

© Copyright 2018, The VOID LLC. Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment™ is a trademark of The VOID, LLC. All Rights Reserved.

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Part 1: The Face in the Mirror

10:32 pm / Thursday, 15 October – 1891 / New York, New York

“This device is going to kill tonight.” Jarod Clarence Matthews1 was as certain of that fact as he was desperate. The Machine he was assembling in front of him would either kill the doubts of his patroness, kill his chances of getting more money out of her or kill them both dead. In this moment, he was not sure which was more likely. He glanced around the vastness of the ballroom in the middle of which he had assembled the infernal apparatus. The light of 1 -Jarod Clarence Matthews (1864-1893?) Promoter and self-proclaimed inventor. Patent holder of the Electro-medium Machine. Arrested 1891 on five counts of fraudulent conveyance, seven counts of securities fraud and two counts medical malpractice. No convictions. Last seen at the Columbian Exposition, Chicago, Illinois.

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment his single kerosene lamp was sufficient for his work but created ominous shadows in the far corners of the room. The three massive chandeliers overhead were still covered in their draping cloths. The tables and chairs would not arrive until later in the week, leaving the floor an open expanse that night. The building was not supposed to be occupied. It stood pristine and – with the sole exception of Jarod – vacant at the intersections of Pearl Street and Dover on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. The new wooden floors were clean and oiled. There was still the unmistakable smell of fresh paint on the walls. It was near the approaches to the East River Bridge2 which promised a bright future in commerce. The building was complete in every way except for the requisite Permits of Occupancy. It was a thing not yet born, a structure that was waiting to open its doors and take its first breath. He had set his coat aside, draping it over an open crate and had rolled up the previously crisp, starched cuffs of his sleeves. The temperature outside could not be more than in the mid-fifties, and it seemed even colder inside the otherwise lifeless building. Still, he could feel the sweat gathering under the brim of his bowler hat He leaned down into the light radiating from the lamp at his feet. It was the only source of illumination on the enormous ballroom floor, a yellowish pool of light that was inadequate to push back the vast darkness extending around him. Jarod bent over, struggling to assemble the device according to the written instruc2-- Officially named ‘The New York and Brooklyn Bridge’ or later, simply the Brooklyn Bridge.

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Tales of the VOID tions that had come packed with the equipment. They were all hand-written notations and in some places the pencil marks were barely legible. He turned the top page upside down and then back again, hoping it would make more sense. Part of his frustration was that he really had no idea what this device actually was supposed to do. It was as much of a mystery to him as it had been to the widow from whom he had purchased it on Grand Street.3 Jarod had been promising to deliver a device with mystical properties to his patroness for some time now – and this monstrosity appeared to be something that would be convincing enough to his benefactor to keep her money flowing in his direction. If it did not kill them all first. Now, if he understood the scribbled drawings and margin notes properly, he was nearly finished assembling the Machine. He took a step back to try to take in the totality of the madness he had arrayed about the dark floor. It was an ugly, hulking device and now that he could see it fully assembled, he realized that it evidenced strange markings on its surface. There were several dark brown stains that made him 3-- It is doubtful that Mr. Matthews possessed either the imagination or technical skill to conceive such a device let alone construct it. Evidence suggests he purchased the device from Alice Patterson, widow of Clyde Patterson, an electronics inventor who disappeared in 1891. From most accounts, the major components for ‘The Machine’ were originally procured from Westinghouse and were based on Nikola Tesla designs. Nikola Tesla

(10 July 1856– 7 January 1943) was a Serbian-American inventor, electrical engineer, mechanical engineer, physicist, and futurist who is best known for his contributions to the design of the modern alternating current (AC) electricity supply system and the origins of VOID dimensional transit.

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment uneasy to look upon and areas where the metal had been marred by deep, parallel cuts. “Boo!” Jarod jumped visibly at the sound behind him. The lamp clattered as his foot jerked against it, teetering precariously. Now the light shifted as the wobbling lantern settled back down to the floor, casting moving shadows across the mechanical heart of the strange Machine. He had been concentrating on the massive device in front of him so completely that he had somehow missed the sound of the woman’s button-top boots advancing on him from across the floor. “Miss Jones!” he exclaimed. He turned his rictus smile toward her in as polite a greeting as his nerves would manage. He took the moment to casually stuff the pages of Machine instruction into his trouser pocket. He finished the motion by pulling his watch out of the same pocket by the chain, flipping open the cover and glancing at it. “You surprise me. I was not expecting you for another half an hour at the earliest.” Miss Tasha Jones4 burst out with a deep laugh at discomfiting Jarod before she spoke. “Did you fancy me a spirit from the Beyond? Perhaps you thought your device too much of a success, Mr. Matthews?” He drew in a deep breath to steady his nerves. Under any other circumstances, he would have imbibed in something stronger but Miss Jones was a teetotaler and it would not do to offend her. “Cer4-- Natasha Jones (1861-1922), Chairwoman and Founder of the Society of Electro-spiritualism. Based on excerpted transcription of contemporary notes for an unpublished article as related to E. C. Quinn, reporter for the New York World newspaper.

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Tales of the VOID tainly not, Miss Jones. I have not yet finished my preparations and, as you can see, the device is not yet in motion.” Jarod watched as the woman stepped past him toward the strange array of objects in the lantern light before them. She wore a stylish blouse gathered at her synched waist. Her crimson skirt and matching jacket with mutton sleeves were all carefully tailored. She sported a narrow, black-polished walking stick although Jarod suspected she kept it more as a weapon than an aid to moving about. Even the feathers on the hat that she wore did not dare move out of their place lest they incur her wrath. “And what do you call it again, Mr. Matthews?” Tasha said as she admired the device. “It is the Electro-medium Machine,” Jarod said, wondering if he had responded a little too quickly. Still, he pressed on. The details of his deception came easily as they had almost become real to him. “At your suggestion, I took up the path of Monsieur Curie5 and his idea that there may be a scientific link between magnetism and spiritualism.” Miss Jones raised her chin, a sure sign that she was going to launch into one of her enthusiastic lectures on her favorite subject. “That is the very essence of electro-spiritualism: to harness the forces of this newly liberated power of lightning, using them to pierce the finite and connect with the infinite. The Fox Sisters6 only 5-- Pierre Currie, French physicist and husband of Marie Sklodowska-Curie (1859 – 1906). Following in the footsteps of Carles Richet and Camille Flammarion, Curie thought systematic investigation into the paranormal could help with some unanswered questions about magnetism. 6-- Leah, Margaret (Maggie) and Kate (Catherine) Fox were three sisters from New York who played an important role in the creation of Spiritualism.

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment opened the gates to the Beyond. We delved into the writings of Miss Richmond7 in Chicago for deeper insight and meaning. Her Spirit Guides gave the keys to the bridge ... a communication from the Beyond which defined the foundations of our own explorations into Spiritualism: the Infiniverse of God’s Infinite Being – the Uncreate, if you will.8 By what means, then, might we contact those elevated spirits in their new sphere when the expressions of those souls on the higher planets – such as Mars or Jupiter – are so far about our own expression? By what means may we...” She paused quite suddenly, glancing down at the lantern on the floor. “Why the kerosene, Mr. Matthews?” she asked. “The lease specified this space was electrified.” “And so it is, Miss Jones,” Jarod replied, grateful that her distraction had prevented her from continuing her improvised lecture. Jarod had liked this place for his own reasons, chief among them being that it was out of the way so that his activities might not gain too much public scrutiny. The other benefit, of which Miss Jones approved, was the new building’s proximity to Edison’s Pearl Street Power Station9. This had begun providing commercial service to the district. 7-- A.K.A. Cora Lodencia Veronica Scott (1840-1923) Author, Lecturer, Spiritualist, Medium & Co-founder of National Spiritualist Association of Churches. 8-- Quoting from ‘The Soul; It’s Nature, Relations and Expressions in Human Embodiments’, Cora L.V. Richmond, 1887, The Spiritual Publishing Company, Chicago, Illinois. 9-- The Pearl Street Generating Station, 257 Pearl Street, New York, NY. First commercial electrical generating station.

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Tales of the VOID The new building was wired for electricity. He stepped past her to inspect the large, silver-backed mirror which stood an insulated easel facing toward them. Their own reflections were unclear in the dim lamplight. “The electrical force that reaches this building is not as strong as I would like. Therefore, I prefer not to waste it on incandescence when kerosene will do.” The woman turned from away from their smudged reflection, took up the lamp and moved closer to inspect the Machine itself – a large and complex metallic engine. The main part of the Machine was an enormous metallic block of coils, diode tubes and indicator lamps set in a metal housing. This was fitted along the top with a series of pneumatic tubes, which extended down into the main part of the Machine. In each of these was housed individual long devices of crystal set in brass frames. Behind these was a massive cylindrical housing set horizontally above the supporting box. A great, belt-driven flywheel was mounted to one end of the cylinder while three rods topped with metallic spheres protruded from the top. On the far side beyond the Machine was a tower of copper wire, wound in coils about a central core. Next to the belt-driven wheel was a pillar atop which a wide basin was situated, filled with a dark, viscus liquid. Thick electrical cables ran from the Machine block, supported on and separated from each other by glass insulators. Two of the most prominent cables ran further to the left where an easel supported a large mirror. Its ornate, gilded frame seemed out of place among the harsh machinery and wiring in the large room.

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment She frowned. “What are these dark stains, Mr. Matthews? I thought you said this machine was new.” “Ah, no doubt ... from the grease,” Jarod said. “They don’t look like grease.” “I’ll have them cleaned up. Never fear.” “I don’t believe I have seen anything like these before,” Tasha said. She pointed to a pair of crystal rods set into two of the three pneumatic tubes of the Machine which had caught her eye. “Field-fuse rods,” Jarod answered absently, his eyes running over the lengths of double copper wire that were attached to the walls with insulators in their course from the Machine to the mirrors. “They interact with the Tesla Coil and the spherical electrode at the end of the high voltage terminal. That’s what creates the transitional field effect in the mirrors.” He stuffed the dog-eared instruction papers deeper into his pocket. With effort, Jarod maintained his calm façade, hoping the woman would never guess that he barely understood a word he had just said. Fortunately, the assembly notes packed with the Machine had given him sufficient information to at least sound as though he understood the relationship of its parts and speak in vague generalities as to their function. All he really knew was that it looked very scientific and impressively complicated. He also knew that Miss Jones – an heiress of a considerable railroad fortune – would thankfully have far less of an understanding of the nature of this machine than he did. -- Page 10 --

Tales of the VOID “And the mirror?” the woman asked, turning her attention back toward the easel behind her. “It’s silver-backed, Miss,” Jarod responded, clearing his throat before he continued. He had read something about this in the notes of the engineer. It suddenly came back to him. “It ... uh ... it interacts with the electro-magnetics around the frame to set up a dimensional breach field.” “A Spiritual breach field,” she corrected him with a wave of her walking stick. “Of course,” Jarod agreed. “Now that you’ve seen the Machine, how does it strike you?” The woman took an appreciative step back. “It’s magnificent, Mr. Matthews,” the woman said. “Absolutely magnificent!” Jarod sighed inwardly with relief. He had hoped the sight of the Machine alone would be enough to convince the woman. He dreaded the thought that she might require more. “Thank you, Miss. With this device – once perfected – your great Electro-Spiritualism Movement will at last demonstrate the means of communication with the world beyond our own.” “That is my greatest hope, Mr. Matthews.” she beamed the smile of a fanatic back at him. “No longer will we be bound by the inconsistency of mediums and spiritualists. Our communications with the Beyond shall move past such uncertain practices! We shall push forward the frontiers of science and the harness of the mystical powers of the electric! The Electro-spiritualist Society shall -- Page 11 --

Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment lead humanity into a new age of enlightenment both in the realms of mortality and the realms of glory!” “And I shall be there to assist you,” Jarod interrupted, hoping to stop his patroness before she got too far into another tedious speech. In his heightened state of anxiety, he found her enthusiasm extremely irritating. He needed to bend the conversation to the main object of his endeavors: Miss Jones’s money. “Although I shall require considerably more capital to achieve this great goal, I feel certain that with your support – and that of your sister members in your growing society – this device may be perfected to the utter confirmation of your Society’s lofty goals.” “Of course.” The woman turned toward him at once. “And now, a demonstration, if you please, Mr. Matthews.” “Ah,” he replied, his smile fading as a sudden chill ran through him on hearing her request. “A demonstration?” “Yes, if you would be so kind.” “Oh, but, Miss,” Jarod spoke quickly, his practiced mind spinning excuses. “You must understand that this Machine most likely will utterly fail in this first incarnation. Further development will certainly be required, and, with a sufficient infusion of capital, I am certain that a future version...” The woman’s hardening gaze fixed on Jarod. The feather on her hat quivered slightly as she leaned toward him. “Nevertheless, proceed with the demonstration, Mr. Matthews.” “But surely you understand that a machine so delicate as this will require...” -- Page 12 --

Tales of the VOID “At once, Mr. Matthews.” It was a command that could not be pushed aside. “As you please, Miss,” Jarod said, foreboding tightening his throat as he stepped around the metal block. He followed a thick cable leading up to an electrical knife switch mounted on the back wall. Reaching up, he grasped the handle. He hesitated for a moment. Electricity was a new and frightening force, its properties completely unfamiliar to Jarod. He had read the sensational stories in the newspapers about horrible deaths –especially that ghastly Kemmler execution10 – but he failed to conjure any excuse that his patroness would accept. He pulled down hard, shut his eyes and closed the switch. The drive belt tightened on the flywheel of the Machine as the electric motors engaged. As its rotation gained momentum, the colored indicator dials on the top of the machine glowed with the infusion of power. A deep, humming sound soon began to emanate from the copper coils as the charge within them began to build. The thick, dark liquid in the bowl atop its own set of coils began to bubble, a strange mist spilling from it into the room. Bolts of miniature lightning began dancing about the sphere-tipped rods along the top of the Machine which almost at once translated into loud, crackling arcs lancing downward into the pneumatic tubes. 10 �� William Francis Kemmler (May 9, 1860 – August 6, 1890) of Buffalo, New York, was a convicted murderer and the first person in the world to be legally executed using an electric chair. The execution voltage was misjudged on the first attempt, requiring a repeat at a higher voltage. The entire execution took eight minutes in total.

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment Jarod abandoned the main current switch, scurrying quickly over the cables, while being careful to avoid touching them. The commotion of the Machine had momentarily startled him, but the instructions had been quite clear on one point: the position of the field-fuses were the key to making the Machine work properly. He made his way quickly to the front of the Machine staring at the pneumatic tubes and the field-fuses in them. All three of the tube doors were open but only two of the fuses were presented. Each of the fuses in the tubes were glowing a different color ... for the life of him, Jarod could not remember why ... but he did know that the colors of the field-fuses needed to match the color of the resonance indicator above their tube. One simply had to yank out any fieldfuse not matching the color above it and reinstall it in the pneumatic tube that did show a matching color. Jarod looked at the field-fuses with some hesitation. The arching electricity between the posts at the top of the tubes and the fuses was terrifying but switching their positions was the whole point of the design. He reached in, gripped the two fuses and pulled them upward. Both of the field-fuses slipped out easily, the arcing electricity still connecting them tenuously to the Machine. Jarod quickly placed the fuses in the tubes matching the colors of their glow. The doors rotated to close the tubes. A new set of light bulbs illuminated to the sides of the tubes. There was a sucking sound as the fuses were drawn down into the Machine then the doors rotated open again, presenting a second set of field-fuses. Jarod reset them again

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Tales of the VOID to match the colors displayed over each tube. Again, the doors rotated shut, lighting still more lights. Jarod was delighted. Now, THIS is something I can sell! Jarod continued replacing fuses and the machine demanded, concentrating so thoroughly on the task in front of him that he failed to notice other changes in the room. “Mr. Matthews?!” Jarod turned at her alarm, only then aware of the full effects of the Machine. Lightning sprang about the room from the coils on the far side of the machine, arcing overhead and dancing about the cables connecting the devices arrayed in the space. Each tendril reached toward the mirror which was drawing the power toward it. Tasha Jones took a measured step, backing away from the looking glass. Jarod left the fuses, rushing to her side as he turned to face the mirror with her. Both of their faces were reflected in the brilliant light flashes arcing about the room. But there was also a third face in the mirror. Jarod gasped. On reflex alone, he turned to look behind him, to see if the emerging monster were lurking there. All that was behind him was the vast empty floor of the unoccupied building. But there was something wrong with the space, however; a twisting disfiguration of the air that was unsettling. -- Page 15 --

Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment Perhaps he had only imagined it. He turned back to face the mirror. The third face stared back at him with hideous expression, emerging from the darkness with greater clarity by the moment. The color of its skin was barely discernable from the darkness from which it seemed to emerge. But it was the creature’s eyes that held him in terror. They were glowing embers of malevolence, shifting their gaze between him and his patroness. “Hello, my dear? Can you hear me?” Jarod glanced at his patroness. She appeared to be trying to talk with the dreadful monster in the mirror. The woman took a step forward. “You need not be afraid,” she said, reaching out toward the reflection. “We are here to help you. We want to understand. What is your name?” The gaze of the creature in the mirror fixed on the woman. It seemed to be tensing slightly, as if preparing to spring. Tasha took another hesitant step toward the mirror. “May I call you ... Nicodemus?” The creature’s face split into a hideous grin, baring its rows of sharp, dagger-like fangs. “No! Miss, please...”

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Tales of the VOID The monstrous visage lashed out with razor-like talons at the mirror, its mouth widening as it lunged forward. An unearthly scream filled the air, shaking the glass. Its spread talons raked across the surface of the mirror with a terrible screeching sound... Darkness fell. Silence followed. Jarod could hardly breath, but he realized in a moment that the darkness was not complete. The lantern was still burning, it’s comparably feeble rays now the only light in the space. The Machine had stopped. “Bring it BACK!” she demanded. Miss Jones remained before the mirror, her hand still poised toward its empty surface. “Are you mad?!” “Do as I say!” Jarod stepped slowly toward the main blade switch on the wall. He moved the lever a few times then shook his head with relief. “I can’t.” “Of course, you can! Do so at once, do you hear?” “There’s no power. We must have blown the fuses at the power plant. I suspect the Machine requires more electricity than our friend Edison can possibly provide us.” “Then we shall have to go where there is more power!”

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment “Madam, there is no place where there is more power available than here on Pearl Street!” Jarod said curtly. He began moving about the Machine, inspecting it for any damage. “Perhaps not now ...” Tasha Jones drew her imperial-self upright as she made up her mind. Jarod picked up the lamp and took a wary step toward the mirror. “You have proven yourself, Mr. Matthews,” Tasha said confidently. “You shall have your capital funding just as you wish. Whatever amount of money you need, I and our followers will supply.” Jarod moved around the frame to investigate more fully and shone his light on the back of the mirror. He felt the color drain from his face. Wide claw marks scraped away the silver backing in long, ragged streaks. Matching marks marred the oiled floor, shavings curled neatly, laying bare raw wood. Jarod glanced at the machine. The marks on the casement matched those on the floor behind the mirror. The stains now seemed all too obvious. He knew that the widow’s husband had not simply disappeared. “Did you hear me?” Miss Jones prattled on with growing enthusiasm. “Everything you need will be provided.” Jarod could not stop his hands from shaking. He had just been offered everything he had been scheming to attain for months but -- Page 18 --

Tales of the VOID he knew that he had been right: the machine had killed something that night: any desire he had to continue the fraud. “Keep your money,” he said flatly. He reached down, pushing the assembly instructions down deeper into his pockets. Without them, he knew, Miss Jones had no hope of ever getting the device to function again. “For that matter, go ahead and keep the Machine, too, for all I care.” Jarod turned his back on his patroness, rushing toward the staircase and the sane world far from the device behind him. “Mister Matthews!” the woman shouted, her voice echoing through the ballroom. “I insist you get this machine running again at once! We had a bargain!” “My greatest hope, madam, is that you never engage that machine again!” Jarod said, picking up his pace. “But it worked!” Tasha raised her chin. “If we only had better electricity ... more power...” “I only thank Providence that the infernal device DIDN’T have such power!” He shouted behind him as he pushed through the doors at the end of the room. “Heaven help us all if it ever does!”

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment

Part 2: Voices of the Dead

8:32 pm / Saturday, 28 October – 1893 / The Descending Room

The lights in the Ascending Room11 flickered. Professor Milton Edwards12 tried desperately to gather his sanity. Not that sanity had anything to do with this place. 11 Early in their development, elevators were also referred to as ‘Ascending Rooms’. This was the case in many instances at the Columbian Exposition where Otis Brothers and Co. of New York operated elevator compartments of both hydraulic and electric motor design. 12 �� Prof. Milton Phineas Edwards, (1867-?) MA, PhD Professor of Engineering, Northwestern Christian College in Indianapolis. Author of recovered artifact (SEE footnote below).

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Tales of the VOID In the brief darkness between flashes, a human-like figure appeared standing in the center of the floor.13 It was cocooned in burlap and wound about with thick hemp rope. It stood swaying slightly in the center of the small Ascending Room. The rough cloth was marred by spreading dark and terrible stains. The figure seemed to be trying to speak him when it appeared in the middle of the iron cage. Together they were lowering down a shaft toward a fate which the man dared not guess. The cage of the elevator had become his prison, an agonizing descent deeper into hell. The intrusion of the shrouded body had caused him to press back against the iron lattice wall. Still, he had to press on ... had to follow the path he believed his boy had taken. To whatever end. The shrouded figure moaned, a strange, gurgling sound. He drew in a deep breath, steadying himself. “Please,” he breathed. “Speak to me?” The figure spoke, a stain appearing about the region where its mouth might be. “Lost... Lost... Evanishment is for the lost!” Milton knelt down and began scrawling the words he heard in chalk on the iron plate forming the back of the bench. He quickly 13 �� Account based on a transcription from a text artifact recovered during VOID Excursion #B82964e / White City Portal. The artifact is a cloth-bound composition notebook with marble-pattern cover published by the ‘Roaring Spring Blank Book Company / Roaring Spring, PA / 1890’. It was found enclosed with a vulcanized rubber band. The text is pencil on blank pages. The handwriting appears to be more rushed and less legible in its later entries.

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment signed his initial ‘M’ before turning back to face the gruesome apparition. “Who? Who is lost?” “Milton?” The Professor froze, the color draining from his face. “Emma?”

10:06 pm / Friday, 27 October – 1893 / Electro-Spiritualism

“Welcome to the modern wonders of Electro-Spiritualism!” the bright, fresh-faced young woman said. “I will be your spirit guide today! May have I your name, sir?” “Milton,” he blurted out after a short pause. He was somehow unprepared for the question. “Milton,” she beamed a bright smile back at him. He shifted on his feet, covering his awkwardness by looking away. Milton was irritated at her for being so pretty, so warm and so welcoming. It was hardly her fault ... or even a fault at all ... but that did not matter to him at the time. He was not certain what it was that he was trying to accomplish in starting his narrative afresh. The blank pages of the composition notebook cried out to be filled and yet somehow the act of putting pencil to them seemed something of a desecration. Perhaps that is -- Page 22 --

Tales of the VOID the way of man; to find something pure and spoil it by putting their mark to it. Perfection was an illusion in this world, he thought, although his Wife had not thought so. She might have persuaded him in time for she was, to Milton, the embodiment of perfection. Everything always comes back to Her. It was a year and two weeks since his beloved was lost to him. The melancholy which settled over him at her passing lingered in his soul. “Is this your boy?” she prompted. “Oh! James? Yes, of course,” Milton looked down at the boy at his side. James’s face was downcast. “James, be polite to the nice lady.” The young woman leaned down closer to the boy, extending her hand. “How do you do, James?” The boy glanced up at his father. “It’s quite all right, son,” he said. “Be polite to the nice woman.” The young boy took her hand though his gaze was again fixed to the floor. The young woman’s laugh was clear and bright as she tried to smooth over the awkward moment. She turned her green eyes back toward Milton “Are you enjoying the Exposition?” “Yes, thank you,” he replied. Perhaps it was the memories or his discomfort at being so close to the young woman, but he found himself talking about things he never spoke aloud. “My wife and -- Page 23 --

Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment I had planned for months to visiting this ‘White City’ of yours, as they call it. We would often talk into the night about the glorious fair and all the things we would do here together.” “How wonderful!” the young woman beamed. “Will you introduce us?” “I’m sorry … introduce?” “To your wife, I mean.” He glanced down for a moment at the wedding ring he still wore on his left hand. “She ... she passed away,” Milton said. “Just over a year ago now.” The young woman gave him a sympathetic look then turned toward James. “I’m so sorry, but perhaps it was providence that led you here. May I tell you about our marvelous Machine?” James nodded. The young woman was still leaning down toward James, pointing to the set of mirrors that lined the wall. “These mirrors act as visualizers,” she explained, her voice taking the simple tone and cadence of talking to a child. “That means that when the Electro-medium Machine ... that rather large device in the middle of the floor ... when it is made to function these mirrors will show us visions.” The boy mumbled something, his eyes still downcast.

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Tales of the VOID “I’m sorry, my dear,” the young woman said, leaning down closer. “I couldn’t understand you.” James managed to mumble only slightly louder. Milton feared his own prolonged melancholy had had an adverse effect on their child. The young lad was only eight years old when his mother departed. Milton had done his best to parent the boy and the university had been more than patient in accommodating his occasional absences but even deep as he was in his own mourning, Milton was aware of the changes in the boy. One thing remained constant, however, which gave Milton some measured assurance. Before she died, his wife had taught James how to fold stars out of sheets of paper – five pointed affairs that were simple and beautiful. The boy had become obsessed with making the stars for his mother. Even without her, he continued making them, methodically turning any scraps he could find into the ornaments. James had even invented a clever little game involving the paper stars. The boy would slip one of the stars into the pocket of his father’s jacket or trousers and then hide somewhere in their house. When Milton discovered the star in his pocket, it was then his turn to find the boy – a simple game of hide-and-seek, it seemed. But at the end there was a twist: Milton and James would then pin the star to where he was found. Then Milton would take the ever-present piece of chalk from his pocket and sign their initials – ‘M & J’ on the wall. Then the next time they played, James had to make a new star, put it in his father’s pocket and then find somewhere to hide where there wasn’t a star already pinned. -- Page 25 --

Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment While it afforded Milton no comfort, it was a game which delighted James. It was, at first, not too taxing on his mounting depression. Over time, however, their house had become nearly covered with the paper stars – and James had grown frustratingly good at hiding from his father. Worse, every star reminded him of the warm, smiling mother who had taught James how to fold them. Milton had to get away. So, he secured for himself and his son excursion tickets on the 11:40 am on the Monon Line14 the previous day15. James had been most excited to begin their journey together and the burden which perpetually rested on Milton’s shoulders promised to fall behind them with every clack of the wheels. As the miles wore on, however, James became somewhat restive and Milton found that his melancholy had accompanied him on the journey. Both were relieved when they arrived at last that evening shortly after 6:00 pm. Milton was not sure of the exact time as his watch had inexplicably stopped during the journey. Still he managed to secure public transportation by trolley and they came at last to their hotel quarters on the corner of South Wallace Avenue and West 63rd Street in Englewood.

14 �� Referring to the Monon Railroad, more formally known at the time as the Louisville, New Albany and Chicago Railway. 15 �� I.E. Thursday, 26 October 1893

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Tales of the VOID Together that next morning they had approached the Columbian Exposition16, making their way to the arched street entrance at the eastern end of the Midway Plaisance, then past the Woman’s Building into the Exposition itself. Just thinking about it took Milton back to that first overwhelming moment when the full grandeur of the Exposition hit him. He had stopped for a moment to take in the magnificence of the Grand Basin. Impossibly ornate, white buildings in a Beaux-Arts style rose on every side. Wide promenades framed the reflecting pool. This was the Court of Honor his wife had dreamed of seeing and it was even more glorious than they had imagined. Small boats crossed the waters, ferrying guests from one side of the man-made lake to the other. Incredible, ornate fountains filled the near end of the Grand Basin while at the far end a gilded statue of The Republic stood 24 feet tall on a pedestal in front of the eastern Peristyle Gate. Beyond that lay the expanse of Lake Michigan. All around the Court of Honor rose the white buildings which were at once so uniform in their blanc color and style and yet so beautifully diverse in their execution. Milton had had matched the James’s excitement when they first arrived. Yet as they moved from the Machinery Building to the Agricultural Building and across the Peristyle to the enormous

16 �� The World’s Columbian Exposition of 1893 (also known as the Chicago World’s Fair and Chicago Columbian Exposition) was held in the underdeveloped parts of the South Park to celebrate the 400th anniversary of Christopher Columbus’s arrival in the New World. The centerpiece of the Fair, the large water pool, represented the long voyage Columbus took to the New World. The Exposition was an influential social and cultural event which had a profound effect on architecture, sanitation, the arts, Chicago’s self-image, and American industrial optimism.

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment Manufacturers and Liberal Arts Building17, Milton could not shake the growing oppressive feeling of loss. Within the Manufacturers and Liberal Arts Building, James had loved the Movable Walkway18. It was a mechanical conveyance where one stepped onto a platform and it then took you past a number of tableaus and exhibits. How could his Wife have left before seeing this? The Movable Walkway had ended by depositing them in a display sponsored by something called the ‘Electro-spiritualist Society’ and, in turn, the uncomfortable attention of a young woman… Who was staring at him expectantly again. “Sir? “Oh, my apologies,” Milton exclaimed, his face flushing slightly with embarrassment. “My mind was elsewhere.” “As I was saying,” the young woman continued, a slight pique entering into her voice. She gestured to the Machine sitting to one side of the curved exhibit space. “This is the machine at the heart of Electro-spiritualism. Power cables charged by the great Westinghouse Generators of the nearby Electrical Building will enable this

17 �� The Manufactures and Liberal Arts Building, designed by George B. Post.

If this building were standing today, it would rank second in volume and third in footprint on list of largest buildings (130,000m2, 8,500,000m3). It exhibited works related to literature, science, art and music.

18 �� The Movable Walkway was a smaller, interior version of the larger and more prominent Movable (or Moving) Sidewalk attraction at the Columbian Exposition. The Moving Sidewalk was located on the pier beyond the Peristyle just northeast of the Manufacturer and Liberal Arts building, providing a cooling and refreshing rest from the dust and crowds of the Exposition.

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Tales of the VOID machine – the Electro-medium – to pass current through the crystal cores of these field-fuse devices...” “What?” Milton blinked. “What did you call them?”

“Field-fuse devices,” she reiterated, gesturing toward a pair of narrow transparent shafts set in two of three pneumatic tubes. “Their crystal cores convert the electrical flow into sympathetic electrical field vibrations. Those are then conducted to the coils both on the floor and that large disk-coil on that wall. These, in turn, transmit those vibrations into magneto-electric fields around the mirrors. In this way the tuned sympathetic vibrations interact with the mirror’s silver backing to matching vibrations in the ether. This is what enables us to pierce the veil between this world and the next and affect reliable communication with the Beyond.”

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment “The ... Beyond?” Milton said, his eyes narrowing. “Yes,” the young woman said, raising her voice slightly as though it might overcome some deafness on Milton’s part. “This device will enable us to communicate directly with the spirits of the deceased.” Milton snapped his head around to glare at the device. James looked up for the first time. “You mean ... it can talk with ghosts? People who have died, I mean?” “Well, yes, that’s right,” She flashed a brief smile at the boy. “Can I?” the boy asked, wonder in his eyes. “Unfortunately, not at the moment...” Milton swung around to face her. “Yes, by all means turn the Machine on.” There was anger behind his eyes. “Show us this Electro-Spiritualism in all its wonder!” “I’m sorry,” Milton’s vehement response caused the young woman to take a step back. “We have been having difficulty getting the machine to function properly.” “And why is that, do you suppose?” Milton was surprised by his own sudden anger, rising from somewhere deep within him that would not stop and could not be denied. The woman swallowed hard. “We have been trying to reach the inventor of the machine to correct the fault. It seems that he took the assembly plans with him. But as soon as he responds to our requests...” -- Page 30 --

Tales of the VOID “So that you can speak with the departed?” Milton pressed, taking another menacing step toward the young woman. “Has this contraption ever once actually allowed you to speak with a spirit of the dead?” Milton was dimly aware that the others in the exhibit were staring at him. One particular woman, who seemed to be in charge, was glaring at him. She wore a crimson skirt and jacket. The feathers on her hat quivered slightly. She took a step in his direction. The young woman guide stood her ground, looking up defiantly at Milton. “I assure you, sir, that it has! Our Spiritual Leader, Miss Tasha Jones bore witness to the fact on its first use! She saw and heard a spirit from the other side...” “Not with that ridiculous contrivance!” Milton shouted. “If you’re going to perpetrate a fraud on the public then you should at least make the basic engineering believable!” “Sir, I don’t believe you are in any position to judge...” “I’m a professor of electrical engineering!” Milton could not seem to stop himself. The outrage rushed up from within him. He pointed at the connections at to the top of the machine. “Those cables attached to these so-called field-fuses? They are connected to the wrong terminals. They have to all be on the positive charge. One of them isn’t even connected to the terminal bus-bar at the base. And those cables from the back to the coil tower should have been attached to opposite terminals instead of the same one.” Milton grabbed James’s hand. “Let’s go, son.”

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment “But Father,” the boy said, snatching his hand back. “I want to talk to Mother.” “We’re leaving,” Milton was choking on his words. He took the boy’s hand again, holding it tighter than he had wanted. “Sir!” the young woman blurted out. “Please... I...” Milton turned suddenly back toward the young woman. “What is your name?” he demanded. “My name is Claire Hansen, if you must know!” she said defiantly. “Well, Claire Hansen,” Milton seethed, “Shame on you! It’s bad enough to pander false hope to adults but how dare you do so to a child?” Milton turned on his heels, pulling James behind him toward the Floral Society Exhibit. Out of the corner of his eye, Milton saw the woman in the crimson dress with a pad of paper and a pencil in her hands. She was taking notes. “Come back tomorrow,” the woman said to Milton as he passed her. “Everything will be different then.” “I doubt it, madam,” Milton said. He knew he was right and believed with all his heart that if his wife, Emma, had been alive, she would have agreed with him, too.

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Tales of the VOID

Part 3: A Different Game

8:17 pm / Saturday, 28 October – 1893 / Automata Exhibit

The boy was alone and afraid. He crawled as quietly as he could under the cabinet. He tried not to breathe. A forest of glass and polished wood boxes stood row upon row in the darkened room. It may have gone on forever for all the boy knew. The lights mounted to the ceiling were no longer working. Only the bulbs placed inside the individual cabinets functioned, their feeble illumination spilled out from the glass cases. Each cast stark shadows over the features of the mechanical organisms contained in them. Diminutive clowns, fiddling jesters and monkeys looked down on him from their vertical glass coffins, their lifeless eyes cast in shadow.

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment He could not remember the name of the place, but he remembered visiting it with his father the day before.19 There were figures of clowns and monkeys and ballerinas and all sorts of amazing dolls that moved when you put your hand on a metal plate. He remembered that they made him laugh yesterday. Yesterday when there were so many other people around. Yesterday when his father was with him. Yesterday when there was no monster. Somewhere in the darkness, a low growl caused the boy to shake. He was lost and afraid. He thought he knew the way from the Movable Walkway to where the nice Pretty Lady had said he could talk to his mother. But the Pretty Lady was gone, and everything had changed in such a frightening way. Then something from the darkness tore at his jacket. He had managed to pull his arms free of the sleeves before the thing had caught him. He wished now he had not given the star to his Father to start the game. James peeked out from under the cabinet. There was a billboard between where he was hiding, and the larger room filled with Automata beyond. Down at its edge, near the floor... 19 �� Referring to the Automata Exhibit. An automaton (plur. Automata) is a self-operating machine designed to automatically follow a predetermined sequence of operations or respond to predetermined instructions. At the time of the Columbian Exposition, Automata were often arcade amusements featuring animated figures in wood and glass cases.

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Tales of the VOID The boy blinked and looked harder to make certain he was really seeing what was there. Chalk writing on the wall. His father’s chalk writing with his initial ‘M’ signed at the end. His father had been here! His father would find him! James tried to read the writing from his hiding place on the other side of the hallway. It was a list of some of the mechanical displays they had seen in the room but he was not sure why his father should make such a list. The creature howled, seemingly in his ear. “Please, Father,” he murmured. “Please come and find me! Please ... please come find me...” He heard the crash of a glass case shattering nearby. It shook the boy to his core. He dashed out from under the cabinet toward a doorway beyond which lay a further labyrinth of displays and exhibits. Instinctively, he knew it was another place to hide until his father found him.

6:48 pm / Saturday, 28 October – 1893 / Moving Walkway

Milton had tried to stay away.

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment There were certainly plenty of other things for them to see and do at the fair. They had started on the mile-long Midway Plaisance20 where most of the entertainment diversions of the fair were to be found. It was a hodge-podge of cultures and amusements. On one side of the Midway, Milton observed a recreation of Viennese storefronts facing buildings from China on the opposite side. There was a panorama of the Kilauea volcano and any number of exhibits featuring people from the most distant parts of the world. There was also a shockingly wide spectrum in modesty and decorum. Milton avoided the more lurid places like Arabia where the ‘hoochie-coochie’ dancer had caused such a scandal. They had managed to get on the Ferris Wheel despite the long lines. James had been delighted with the ride, although Milton found the sensation, which seemed akin to flying, somewhat unsettling. He preferred to keep his feet on the ground. They had made their way back to the Exposition proper. Visiting the Horticultural Building had made James listless. The boy perked up more at the Mines Exhibit. Milton had lingered perhaps too long in the Electrical Building as it was at the heart of his profession, but his mind wandered again to his reflections on how badly he had treated the young woman in the Electro-Spiritual Exhibit the day before. 20 �� For the Exposition, the mile-long Midway Plaisance, running from the eastern edge of Washington Park on Cottage Grove Avenue to the western edge of Jackson Park on Stony Island Avenue, was turned over to the theatrical entrepreneur Sol Bloom, a protégé of Chicago mayor Carter Harrison, Sr. It became a grand mix of fakes, hokum, and the genuinely educational and introduced the “hootchy-cootchy” version of the belly dance in the “Street in Cairo” amusement; it was the most popular, with 2.25 million admissions. George Washington Gale Ferris Jr.’s original Ferris Wheel carried over 1.5 million passengers. The Midway’s money-making concessions and sideshows made over $4 million in 1893 dollars, and it was the more memorable portion of the Exposition for many visitors.

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Tales of the VOID Claire Hansen was weighing on his mind. When he had started the day, he had no intention of going back to that humbug exhibit. This pretense of being able to speak to the dead still enraged him almost beyond all reason. He even could admit to himself that he did not fully understand why the place of such obvious snake-oil peddling should still upset him so completely. But the look on the woman’s face when he had flown into his rage remained to haunt him. It came back stronger to him as he led James out from the Electrical Building. The massive Manufacturers and Liberal Arts Building lay just to the north east. Milton stopped and looked down at his boy. “Did you like the Movable Walkway, James?” “Oh, yes, Father! Could we do it again?” Milton nodded. “We should. I ... I believe I behaved badly to that Miss Claire we met yesterday. Let’s go ride that Movable Walkway and then I can apologize to her. Is that alright with you?” James smiled and nodded with enthusiasm. Milton led James by the hand through the south-east entrance to the enormous building. His boy’s countenance brightened as the neared the entrance to the Movable Walkway but there seemed to be some commotion going on near the entrance. Two of the Columbian Guard21 stood in front of the entrance, blocking access to 21 �� The Columbian Guard was commanded by Col. Edmund Rice, of the United States Army, under orders from architect Burnham, the Director of Works. The number of these soldiers at one time reached two thousand five hundred. It was thought in 1891, whether wisely or not, that the city police would be inadequate to the extraordinary situation, and,

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment the Movable Walkway and motioning for people to move on. They were talking anxiously with a third somewhat overstuffed man in a frock coat with a light waistcoat and a tall silk hat. A large, official looking ribbon was fixed to his lapel and his long beard wagged as he spoke. “That’s rubbish, Elster!” said the overstuffed man. “They’ve got to be somewhere!” “That’s just it, Mr. Sawyer,” answered Elster. He was a younger guard, clean shaven whose hat appeared to be slightly too tight on his head. “First it was just a few people disappearing in the ‘Evanishment’ exhibit.” “Vanishing in Evanishment?” the second officer scoffed. “Someone’s pulling your leg.” “That’s not funny, Oliver! Now it seems to be happening to all the exhibits attached to this moving sidewalk contraption.” Elster continued. “There have been a lot more going in than have come out.” “Maybe they’re just having a good time,” Mr. Sawyer huffed. “But it’s been more than an hour, sir! See that woman over there?” Elster pointed to a nervous woman pacing back and forth on the far side of the path between the exhibits.” That’s Mrs. Wheelhouse. She’s been waiting for her husband to come out of these exhibits. He said he just wanted to ride the ‘Movable Walkto fill the ranks of the new organization, college students and militia men were sought or favored. Their uniforms were light-blue cloth sack coats ornamented with five rows of black braid across the front and special hats with the small plume affixed above a medallion

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Tales of the VOID way’ and that he’d be right back. She’s the one who started the whole rigmarole.” “Didn’t any of you lads think to just go in and find the old gentleman?” Mr. Sawyer asked with a touch of distain. “We did,” Oliver replied. “Johansson, Everette, Bounous ... They all went in. Bounous was the one who told me to stop anyone else from entering. None of them have come back yet either.” “Excuse me,” Milton said to the guard he had heard called Oliver. “I’ve trying to get to the Electro-Spiritual Exhibit. Is there something wrong with the Movable Walkway?” “Wrong?” Mr. Sawyer replied at once through a broad smile. “Not at all! Just in need of some adjustments. I’m certain that we’ll be opening it up in short order. Perhaps if you enjoyed some of our other exhibits ... came back later.” A scream pierced the air. The chilling nature of the sound startled everyone in the passage between the exhibits. The two guards jumped at the sound. But the screaming did not stop right away, continuing several more times before it ended in a choking sound. The two guards looked at each other. “No need for any concern, Ladies and Gentlemen!” shouted Mr. Sawyer as he waved his hands in the air dismissively. “Just a very exciting exhibit ... one of so many that we have here for your edification at the Exposition.” “What was that?” Oliver barely managed to get out the words.

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment Elster sounded as though his teeth were chattering as he spoke. “We heard a lot of that. It ... it was a great deal worse when we first arrived.” Mr. Sawyer was looking flushed. “Oliver, you take that woman back to the Guard’s Post and we’ll find her husband. Elster, just keep people out of those exhibits until those officers who went in report back.” Milton tapped Sawyer on the shoulder. “Look, I can see you’re having problems here...” “There are no problems here,” Mr. Sawyer said through a smile of clenched teeth. “We just need to wait until the officers return from inside to report. Once that’s happened, I’m confident that we’ll be reopening the exhibit immediately.” “Is there another way into the Electro-Spiritualism Exhibit?” Milton asked. He just wanted to say his apologies and be done with it. “I don’t really know, sir,” replied an exasperated Sawyer. “Please, just come back later once we’ve sorted all this out.” “Thank you all the same. We’ll just...” Milton suddenly realized that James had slipped from his grasp. The boy was no longer beside him. “James?” Milton called out.

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Tales of the VOID He glanced around through the large, milling crowd. It was congested here by the guards trying to direct people away from the Movable Walkway. He could not see his boy. “James!” he shouted even louder. Milton began pushing through the crowd around him, yelling out his boy’s name but there was no response. Another piercing cry came from beyond the wall of the exhibits. This one was lower in tone – a man’s cry perhaps – filled with agony and horror. Instinctively, Milton thrust his hands in his pockets, trying to think. His fingers touched the sharp points of a paper star. The Movable Walkway. James had talked so excitedly about it. Milton had promised him he could ride it. Milton pulled the paper star from his pocket. The Game had started once more. Here and now. He could see that the carts of the Movable Walkway continued to move past the entrance of the ride. They vanished down the darkened corridor that housed the various vignette alcoves along its track. He knew from yesterday’s experience that the carts would stop briefly before they moved into the corridor, allowing people to step onto or of of them at each stop along their way. They

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment only paused for a moment in sets of two facing carts, a foot guard lowering to form a common platform between the two. Then the foot guards would raise up, separating the facing carts before they moved on down the long, enclosed corridor. James could have taken any number of them while Milton had been distracted. In an instant, Milton pushed past the younger guard, knocking him off his feet and into the guard with the handlebar mustache. “Wait!” shouted Oliver, trying to regain his footing. “Stop!” Elster snatched desperately at Milton’s coat. The professor twisted out of the grip and pulled free in his headlong rush toward the attraction. He could see the foot guards of a set of the carts beginning to rise. He leaped onto the carriage of the Movable Walkway just as it began moving forward. He heard the gramophone that was secured to the top of each cart engage. The thin, reedy sound of a huckster’s voice filtering down through the ironwork of the cage surrounding him on three sides. “Welcome, friend to the amazing Movable Walkway! Leave 1893 in the past as this modern wonder takes you into the world of tomorrow...” The carriage was moving him into the darkness. He felt it was taking him into his personal hell.

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Tales of the VOID

7:01 pm / Saturday, 28 October – 1893 / Electro-Spiritualism

Although he had been here just the day before, as he stepped out into the exhibit, he hardly recognized it. The Machine, he saw at once, was functioning although its effect on the space was startling. Lightning arced from the polls atop the machine and from the large field-coil behind it, causing an overwhelming crackling sound to fill the room. The lights inside the exhibit had all been either extinguished or were no longer functional, leaving the darkness only at the mercy of the electrical bursts. Milton stepped up to the Machine, inspecting it. The woman in the crimson dress he had noticed on the previous day must have taken very good notes of his ranting. Each of the problems he had seen on his previous visit had been corrected. Two of the field-fuses were exposed in their pneumatic tubes. The colors of the fuses did not match the indicated lighted gauge above. He quickly snatched up the field-fuses from their housing and replaced them in their matching colors. The pneumatic tubes closed then opened again, with a different colored set of field-fuses, also mismatched. He corrected them again. The pneumatic tubes closed once more.

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment Suddenly a steady stream of lightning extended across the room to where a larger flat coil had been hung the previous day. The wall coil was no longer benign. The power of the lightning had somehow created an impossible space that pierced the coil and extended into darkness. It looked more like a gate than anything else. A terrified scream cut through the horrendous sound of the machine. It was through the wall, he thought, from somewhere nearby. Milton turned around. He had to find his son. Doubt suddenly came into his mind. What if he was wrong? What if James had not come in here at all… Then he saw it. James’s jacket. Milton began breathing heavily as he knelt down to pick it up. The fabric was shredded down the back and the seams at the shoulders were separated. Desperately, he turned the torn coat over and over in his hands but could not find any blood. “He was here. This is a different game now,” Milton said to himself. “He’s not hiding from me.” Milton tossed the shredded jacket into a corner. He reached into his pocket for his notebook and pencil and discovered a third object: a professor’s ubiquitous tool. He found a stub of chalk.

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Tales of the VOID He yanked the chalk out of his pocket. He scrawled at the base of the wall the word ‘Fuse’ and drew an arrow pointing toward the machine. If anyone followed him, he could leave them a trail to follow of whatever he had learned along the way: anything that might help find either him or his son. He finished with his own initial -- ‘M’. “Yes,” Milton muttered to himself. “A different game indeed.” As he stood, Milton faced one of the mirrors lining the walls of the room. In the mirror a reflection of horror stood behind him. It was a hairless creature with dark, slick skin and rows of long sharp teeth. It reached out, ready to pounce. Milton wheeled around, fear nearly overcoming him as his heart raced. There was nothing there. He drew in a long, difficult breath. Only then did he notice the figures wrapped in burlap lurking in the dark corners of the room, each bound up in rope. Only then did he start to hear their whispers. Only then did he realized that some of them were moving.

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment

Part 4: In Her Image

7:12 pm / Saturday, 28 October – 1893 / Gondola Room

Which way now? The various displays were arranged as a sort of maze, interconnecting with each other so that the guests were compelled to explore the cluster of exhibits before exiting, at last, again on the Movable Walkway. All Milton could think of was to try the path he and his son had followed the day before. The next room they had entered also featured a novelty similar to the Movable Walkway; a gondola in the form of a wrought iron -- Page 46 --

Tales of the VOID garden folly. Guests would enter it and be taken on a ride across an artificial pool enclosed by an arboretum. On the other side, Milton recalled, was a display of dress and culture by the Floral Society of Chicago. Both areas now lay in darkness which he found inexplicable given that it was still early in the evening and there should have been more than ample light coming through the glass panes overhead. He stepped onto the bird-cage like folly. The iron grating of the door clanging shut behind him. Milton swallowed then, almost without thinking, reached again in his pocket and took out his notebook and pencil. He taught electrical engineering but, he reminded himself, he was first and foremost a scientist. In the face of the inexplicable he fell back on the training of that profession: question, hypothesis, prediction, observation and analysis. Must I question my own experience? Is the lighting changed or only my perception of the light? Milton scribbled in the notebook. Is what I am witnessing true or are my senses being affected?22 Somewhere gears began to turn, tugging at the cables beneath the surface of the water. The folly began to move across the garden space, rotating as it moved. The statues set in the water here appear to be bleeding from their eyes, he noted.23

22 �� Ibid. Notebook: manuscript page 10-11. 23 �� Ibid. Notebook: manuscript page 11.

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment He recalled from the previous day that the folly should deposit him on the far side of the room. Beyond that was the Floral Society’s room of wax figures. He dreaded what awaited him there.

8:26 pm / Saturday, 28 October – 1893 / Machinery Exhibit

Milton again questioned his sanity. Even as he did, he considered that the act of questioning it may be his best evidence that his sanity was still intact. Although how long he might be able to remain sane may have been the more pertinent question. Milton was having trouble discriminating between insight and instinct in a world gone so terribly mad. As he finished signing another of his hasty chalk messages on the wall of the Machinery Exhibit, he heard the unearthly howl from the space beyond the enormous engine that nearly filled the other side of the room. It caused him to jump back to the control wheels again, adjusting them once more to keep the temperamental equipment operating within the boundaries indicated on the mechanism. This engine was a sharp contrast with the Machine of Electro-Spiritualism. Where the latter had been relatively compact and complex, this engine was a simple, massive brute meant to impress visitors with its raw force and power. What it lacked in subtlety it -- Page 48 --

Tales of the VOID more than made up for in this moment of desperate need. So long as the mechanical engine was running, the Ascending Room mechanism seemed to be functioning. It would bring the iron cage in the nearby shaft and provide him an exit from the room which had proven otherwise to be a dead end and where he was now trapped. It barely made sense but nothing much did here. Milton had only managed to get through the wax figures by acting entirely counter intuitive. He scrawled a note on the wall there in chalk once he was free to move again and wished as he did that his James might never have cause to use it. If James found his chalk notes at all. The machine roared in his ears but still did not drown out the enraged screams of the demonic Creature that had been stalking him since the terrible room of the Automata a few minutes before. That room had proven to be a difficult one where he realized that only a specific sequence of activating the Automata would give him a chance of survival. Perhaps he had been too cautious or taken too much time. He had been scribbling the sequence near the bottom of a nearby wall when the hideous thing had become aware of him. The monster seemed to be toying with Milton or, more likely, driving him toward a specific area. The guards outside – though it was now difficult to think of there being an ‘outside’ from this madness – has mentioned something about ‘Evanishment’ as being where people had first been reported as disappearing.

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment On the wall nearby, Milton saw a poster for the ‘Evanishment’ exhibit24. It had been something of a joke to him at the time. It was an exhibit that exhibited nothing at all: four plain, cement walls on the back of which had been painted an ‘Evanishment’ poster image. The guide in the Ascending Room explained that the guests should step into the space in groups of four and then experience the ‘emptiness’ of the space in order to get in touch with the ‘nothingness that underlies all existence.’ Rubbish, he thought. But the walls of the Evanishment Exhibit had only one access and were built of concrete. How could people enter that space and simply disappear? He heard the chime of the bell on the Ascending Room as the compartment arrived. The grating slid open. Even as Milton stepped in and the metal accordion door slid closed behind him, he thought that he was taking a step toward either James or Fate.

24 �� ‘Evanishment’ was a short-lived philosophy based on existential nihilism and the works of Kierkegaard and Nietzsche. It proposed to find peace in the denial of meaning and formal structure. It was short lived as a philosophy and generally abandoned after 1894.

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Tales of the VOID

8:32 pm / Saturday, 28 October – 1893 / The Descending Room

“Please,” he breathed. “Speak to me?” The figure spoke, a stain appearing about the region where its mouth might be. “Lost... Lost... Evanishment is for the lost!” Milton knelt down and began scrawling the words he heard in chalk on the iron plate forming the back of the bench. He quickly signed his initial ‘M’ before turning back to face the gruesome apparition. “Who? Who is lost?” “Milton?” The Professor froze, the color draining from his face. “Emma?” Had they really done it? His mind reeled at the thought. Had they opened a path into the world of spirits and dragged his wife from the grave – his dear one, his beloved – to stand before him in hellish torment? Had he – Milton Edwards – shown them how? “Milton!” the figure gurgled.

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment Emma was dead, his mind affirmed. Her body was laid to rest in the cemetery in Indiana where he had left her mortal remains as well as his own soul and life to be buried with her. There, too, he had buried his hope and his future and his life where they could never be exhumed to hurt him again. The dead don’t have to look forward ... they only look back. Milton backed away from the figure until he pressed his body flat against the iron bars of the descending room. “Don’t leave me!” the figure whispered from where the stain in the burlap grew. It shuffled a pair of hobbled steps toward him. “Please! Don’t leave me!” “Leave me?!” Milton’s voice was hoarse and ragged with emotion. “You left me! You left me with nothing but memories and pain and dreams that could never be! You left me with our boy who could not understand where you had gone. You never stayed to see him grow! Why, Em? Why didn’t you take me with you? Why didn’t you... “Don’t leave me!” “NO!” Milton shouted at the tortured figure before him, at the cage around him, at the universe beyond. He could stand it no longer. He reached out with his trembling hand toward the figure, grasping at the rough rope, and stripping away the burlap. He gasped. The woman’s face was covered in her own blood, streaming down from a gash in her forehead. Her eyes were swollen shut. Her hair was loose but matted with the gore as well. The hideous appa-- Page 52 --

Tales of the VOID rition stood before him for a few moments. Its ragged, torn mouth moved as it tried again to speak. “Help ... me! Please ... make it stop!” The light in the top of the descending cage flickered. He caught a glimpse of the figure’s unstained hair. It was the color of honey. “Claire!” He breathed out the name in quiet horror. “We opened ... we opened a door. Something came ... Make it stop! Make it stop!” The figure before him began to convulse where it stood. The light flickered again. The tortured woman was suddenly gone. “What have I done?” Milton breathed out the words. He had been so careful in his chalk marks and with his notes, yet he had missed the most important thing. He had failed to close the gate. He had been so focused on the Machine in the Electro-spiritual Exhibit that it had never occurred to him that fixing it was the wrong thing to do. He should have stopped it. He should have put the field-fuses in exactly the wrong place from where they had started – different from the slots in which they were presented and always the wrong color. Then the electromagnetic fields they generated would be

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Nicodemus: Demon of Evanishment at cross purposes. The machine would be fighting itself. It would stop. And the gate – that doorway between our world and that of the demon – would have closed. He wished he could go back now and change what he had written on the wall in that room. He wished he could go back and break the machine himself. He wished he were with his son back in Indiana. Wished he had never come to this place. He wished... He thought of Claire. She, too, was a future that would never happen, a set of possible outcomes that would never come to be. She had been so full of life and beauty. And he realized in that moment that there was absolutely nothing he could do about the past. It was written and could not be unwritten with all the wishes of the Arabian Nights or the greatest sorrow of his heart. He had been held a prisoner of his own past for so long, a convenient coffin in which he had no need of feelings or hope or struggle or responsibility. He had been as dead as his dear wife. As the iron cage in which he stood continued its descent, Milton stood up. He could see a poster for ‘Evanishment’ mounted to the iron bars.

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Tales of the VOID He looked down past the bars. A glow was coming from the shaft below. “Father is coming, James,” Milton said with sudden resolve. “And when I find you, we’ll put your star on this cursed place, sign our initials together and never, ever look back again!”

Discover how you can experience NICODEMUS for yourself at The VOID. http://thevoid.com

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