B Team had been trained to deal with several kinds of threats unknown to the general human population. One of those threats, their specialty in fact, was vampire. Knowing where to hunt vampire was easy. They liked cities that stay open late with lots of pedestrian traffic. That narrowed the hunting territory down a lot. In the Western Hemisphere, New York City was the number one qualifier.
Thelonius C. Monq was teaching at M.I.T. when he was recruited by Black Swan. They offered him unlimited funds and support for research in exchange for cutting edge innovation and weaponry. He was part philosopher, part inventor, part chemist, and part magician although he would never list the last descriptor on a resume. He also had enough training in psychiatry to function as resident shrink when necessary.
The death of a knight was one of those occasions classified as necessary. Surviving team members dealt with cross-currents of grief and confronting the stark reality of their own mortality, at risk on every rotation of duty. That was why Monq was present in the Chamber for the debriefing when the “event” occurred. Hearing the recounting of the circumstances of death first hand meant that he would be prepared should team members arrive at his door one day looking for something needed, but not named.
He had attended many such debriefings over the years, counseled many bereft friends and peers, and helped many warriors come to terms with whether or not they could or should remain on active duty. It was the only part of his job that was unpleasant.
His work at Black Swan was challenging and never dull, but nothing could rival the excitement generated by the arrival of the guest who spontaneously materialized from nothing; living, organic matter springing into being where only air and space had existed the moment before.
Nothing could rival that except for the locket he’d been given after the patient was admitted to the infirmary. It was old looking, a mix of pewter and silver, decorated with a Celtic knot design. Handsome, but not particularly valuable. Certainly nothing that any adept thief would bother stealing.
What was valuable beyond his wildest dreams was the encoded data embedded in the design, an elegantly sophisticated and brilliant expression of “hide in plain sight”. It took several days to discern, then devise the means to extract and decrypt the data so that its mysteries could be analyzed.
It contained a lifelong journal of scientific notation including experiments in the theory of interdimensional intercourse along with the postulational and philosophical musings of one Thelonius M. for Mallory Monq; a name that was much too close to be a coincidence.
If the similarity of names wasn’t already shaved too fine for synchronicity, his mother had once told him that he, himself, was almost named Thelonius Mallory Monq because of her appreciation for Thomas Mallory, but that she had conceded to her husband’s wish to honor his late father, Chester. Had his mother been a hair more insistent, he would have been named Thelonius M. Monq, exactly like the owner of the journal.
At the moment he was the only one who knew the locket was something more than a simple personal effect and selfishly wanted a little more time alone with the precious find.
The data underwent thorough analysis along with blood and tissue samples drawn from the bearer of the locket. Within five days he could say with certainty that the information harvested was mind boggling even for someone such as himself who dealt in the supernaturally improbable every day. Knowing he couldn’t continue to keep a discovery of this magnitude to himself any longer, he scheduled a private meeting with Sovereign Sol in his sub basement level suite of office, labs, testing ranges, and living quarters.
The elevator opened promptly at three. Clocks could be set by Sol’s schedule. Monq welcomed him into the lab where he had been conducting the analysis, dismissed his assistants, and invited Sol to make himself comfortable in a wheeled desk chair. Monq and Sol had a congenial business relationship and occasionally collaborated.
Monq began with an intriguing tidbit - the near identical match between his name and that of the locket’s creator. When Monq paused to wait for a reaction, Sol emitted a small grunt as if to say, “If you’re waiting for me to emote, you’ll have to do better than that.”
“Among my counterpart’s notations was the theory of travel between dimensions and detailed specs on a device he was building to attempt such a journey. There was no indication that it had been tested or that there were plans to do so. The incident could have been a lab accident or there may have been some catalyst. We’ll know more when we can talk to the visitor.” Unsure how much technical information would interest Sol, Monq decided to give him the lecture and then dumb it down later if necessary.
“In order to explain what has happened, or what I speculate has happened, I need to tell you a story about P-Brane.” Monq’s eyes darted to an erasable board. He stood and wheeled the board closer, grabbed a blue marker, and spelled out P-Brane. “It’s a spatially extended mathematical concept that appears in string theory. The variable “P” refers to the number of spatial dimensions of the brane. String theory proposes eleven dimensions, but there could be multiple layers between dimensions vibrating at different rates which would make the number exponentially inconceivable.”
Monq sat down. “Did you ever play a musical instrument?”
“Trumpet. High school.”
“Okay then. As you know, musical scale doesn’t slide from a perfect middle C to a C sharp. There is a continuum range that exists between each step in the scale. That’s why piano tuners are so specialized. Perfect pitch means targeting a note and hitting it within its arbitrarily assigned center without wandering over or under looking for it. Most of us may not be able to distinguish all the infinitesimal changes in tone between C and C sharp, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
Sol nodded his understanding, prompting Monq to continue.
“This event is proof that there are multiple dimensions that parallel our own in similar, but not necessarily identical ways.
"I believe our guest upstairs has come to us from another version of life as we live it. My findings indicate that the physical damage was caused, at least partly, from pushing a body designed for a different vibration, a different experience of reality, through the P-Brane. The fabric of her cells is slightly denser. Not much, but the tiniest variation would create the effect of being wedged through a giant cheese grater.”
“She’s human? Or essentially human?”
“Yes. Essentially human. And, as further proof of the parallel nature of her reality, she understands and speaks a dialect of Anglish, albeit with either an accent or a handicap resulting from her injuries. We won’t know which until healing has progressed.”
“She will definitely recover from the trauma?”
“Physically. Yes. Actually, this slight variance in cell density is probably going to assist her recovery. The live cells I’ve been working with have been trying to repair themselves with uncanny speed.”
Sol gave a big sigh. “Other differences?”
“We’re sure to learn more as we go along, but I expect her natural temperature will burn a degree or so warmer than 98.6.” Monq stopped again. This time Sol made a circular motion with his hand adding a little impatience to the gesture. ”Because of the increased cell density, she’s heavier than she should be. And very likely stronger, too.”
“How much stronger?”
“That would only be a guess at this point.”
“Strong enough to be a security risk?”