The Story So Far Cataclysm Urban Decay So Long Legend Reality Bomb Once Upon A Memory Three Night Engagement '70s Cutaway The Millennium People I The Millennium People II Cutting The Threads The Convocation Nova Mondas Denouement I: Sacrifice Denouement II: Paradox Denouement III: Gift

Three Night Engagement by Christoph Djaesson Lopez “Look at me I opened a door I cannot close I feel strange winds Walk into here, open your door. This is an introduction….” Another night offered Brad a chance. "Philosopher’s Stone (or Lapis Philosophorum)" was about to set up for their first night’s performance at Dante’s. Formerly a Mongolian grill, Dante’s was a very small bar and musical venue. A plain bar counter, a stage raised about two meters, and about a dozen tables comprised the establishment. The group was just about getting their drink on. Jacen was a whiskey sour man. Tobias was a White Russian swiller. Brad didn’t sit well with hard liquor since he was in fact a dark beer and cannabis afficianado. Jessene, the sessioning violinist, didn’t show. “Guess what, chappie!” Jacen chirped suddenly over the subdued din of the early bar crowd. “What?” groaned Brad who was pretending to be dim for the moment. “I’m a whale!” Jacen then sprayed a mouthful of whiskey all over the table through his pursed lips. Tobias slugged him forthwith in the bicep. “You want me to smack you in the ass, man?” Jacen leered. “Oh, you wish!” “Yeah, well screw you people. Jessene ain’t here and we’re going to have to do an improv show. Bitch’s probably tweaking anyway." Bradley was on fire and he didn’t care one whit. This was it. He swallowed the last of his beer and cruised over to the bar to check the time. The flimsy curtain parted. With much gravitas stood Jacen with bass strapped on. “It’s so nice to see so many faces. Good evening,” he drawled, resplendent in his pressed business suit and neatly coiffured platinum blonde hair. His handsome features creased into a scowl behind the microphone as he began. “One thing I have to ask. Is it loud enough for you?” The question was asked as a shrieking exclamation delivered in his baritone voice. Thus commenced "Philosopher’s Stone’s" first night at Dante’s. The set began with the stage being bathed in a lunar blue light which seemed to cool the feverish and smoke filled club. Jacen began with a droning yet staccato series of electronically processed chords. Then he began a simple Latin chant. “Ignit Natura Renovatur Integra.” Brad initialised a short series of pre-programmed samples as he also began an improvised synth fugue. Tobias did his part in the proceedings by commencing a shamanic drum beat interspersed by a mighty gong strike. Later, Tobias would try out his set of Tibetan singing bowls. Tobias was rude and often painfully surly in his interpersonal dealings. On stage, his peculiar brand of magic was expressed in his percussion. Brad and Jacen, however, manifested total sublimity. “Look at me. I opened a door I cannot close. I feel strange winds. The path I chose This, but an introduction, no more. Walk into here, open your door. This is an introduction…” Brad sung one of his own songs that first night as well. “What dream has come Where time has gone? Stunned, unsummoned and still Again, I tried to lift up my eyes And not shield them from the sun, Again..." "On a woven fate’s nexus Again. Wonder at the glimpse Of those things that shall never be. A glove that fits my hand alone. This fate, this time, this life again. I wonder where the feeling’s gone. A glove that fits my hand alone…” A fetching and somewhat muscular young woman in an overly decorated bomber jacket turned to speak to her companion. “Professor!” She had to shout over Dante’s PA system as the band played through a delirious second night. “Can I get a drink?” “Ace, I didn’t procure your ID so you could ‘catch a buzz’, or whatever you’d call it! Keep a clear head, please.” Ace glowered at the Doctor. A thought came unbidden to her of chucking a bar ashtray at him. It would serve him right just to knock his silly hat off his head. The Doctor had been so maudlin recently. “What are we looking out for, anyway?” He passed Ace a napkin with something scribbled on it. Two names stood out in the message, whatever it had been. Brad DeMars and Jacen J. Lewis. “What’s this, then?” “I’ve no idea. I found it a few hours ago before we got on that Tri-Met bus.” “But who are they?” Ace had to shout again over the chorus of electronic damnation. The Doctor simply pointed at the stage in reply to Ace’s question. The one with the dark hair caught Ace’s eye. A corner of her mouth twitched into a half-smile. That familiar feeling went through her body again. He was cute. It had been such a long time since she… “Can we meet them later, Professor? After the show maybe?” “That’s what the intention is. Not that I really enjoy this sort of music, Ace.” The Doctor’s tone was that of one discussing a particularly messy surgery. “It reminds of me a Ninhana symphony orchestra. It’s like an incompetent dentist attacking a cavity with a rusty nail,” he added while gritting his teeth. The ambulance arrived at half past two in the morning. The stressed out bar staff had been looking forward to going home for drinks and bed. But Jacen had “collapsed” while descending the stage steps. “I just tripped, man!” Jacen screamed at a paramedic. “No! I don’t have any damned insurance! Let me be!” In the narrow alley behind Dante’s, a pool of turgid shadows formed in defiance of the nearby streetlight’s attempt to stand sentry against such things. “Tock tock chock tick.”, said one Dommervoy to its featureless mates. In unison they softly clapped their stiff semblances of hands together and disappeared back into that portable umbra of theirs. A solitary thread of violet tinged blackness congealed into the receding anomaly. A homeless man who happened to be crouching behind the dumpster, simultaneously went blind. “I cant believe this… sea-change,” groaned Jacen who was sprawled on his studio day bed. His head had been shaved by the neurosurgeon’s nurse. He wore an eye patch since he’d lost muscular control over his left eye. During the past four months, he had suffered from several more seizures. An MRI scan revealed that a tumor the size of a golf ball was resting on his brain. Subsequently, Jacen endured radiation therapy and ultimately, a surgery to excise most of the growth. Brad’s mouth was painfully dry. He had to say what was on his mind. “I just want you to know that I love you. You’ve been my greatest friend and collaborator.” A bead of sweat trickled behind his ear as he spoke. “I know, Bradley Boy. I know. Sorry I can’t return it. Shit, I had enough of a time dealing with Jessene before she went to rehab. God! You need to give it up. I hate to see you so frustrated and pissed all the time, man.” They locked eyes and Brad took Jacen’s weak hand in his own. “It’ll be alright. You’ll back to your old self soon. Look…" Brad stopped speaking and took a deep breath in a concerted effort to slow his heart down a little. "I have to go before I break down again.” His chest began to heave as the tears came. Jacen touseled his hair and rested his good hand on Brad’s shoulder and said, “Remember: Ignit Natura Renovatur Integra. The whole of nature is regenerated by fire.” Brad opened his eyes. Regenerated? Yes! He had it... The Doctor opened his eyes. And blinked. How could he possibly have known about Brad before... well before he had met Brad in the collapsing Portland? It made no sense. And who was Ace? Future memories, indeed. It was confirming his suspicions in no small measure. Before he had any more time to ponder such questions the inner door flew open and Brad entered the console room. The Doctor turned around. He couldn’t help but notice that Brad had been crying. “Doc, I need your help. I have an idea about how to save Jacen.” The Doctor was, not for the first time today, quite puzzled. “Jacen? And just who is Jacen, Brad?”