Science, Eternal Life, and a Traveling Circus |1|

Chapter Nine

The previous day's tour of West Haven's elementary school had been enlightening. Not only had Abraham at last learned what on Earth it meant to be called a 'master', he had learned where he could find weapons. The school had been empty when Octienne had showed him around.

There were dangerous reagents in a cupboard in the laboratory that Master Octienne held the keys to. Abraham had thought it interesting at first, but, in looking at the alchemist's stock-take, he had decided that throwing hydrochloric acid at someone likely wouldn't be practical. Besides, there were knives and swords in the blacksmithing classrooms, and William guaranteed that there would be basic guns at the college, when Abraham asked.

There were two horses in a stable between the schools, which Abraham made note of. They weren't padlocked.

The next day, Jen offered a tour of the college, which he eagerly accepted. Perhaps, he thought, he could get his hands on a weapon, there.

"Take it easy, Abraham." William said.

"Oh, I'm feeling worlds better, really." Abraham insisted, stretching out his arms. The sickly ooze of illness hadn't left a crust on his eyes that morning. His belly felt satisfied, and his skin was not so tightly wound around his bones. Dizzy spells and headaches continued to plague him, but after so long on the brink of death, they were trifling ailments.

Jen led him out of their humble little hovel and walked him down the unmarked street. She gestured to a few other houses and told him who lived in each and what they taught. From its shadow, she showed him the orphanage, and told him that they would welcome his help there when he was recovered. She pointed to a door-less cement chamber that stood at the side of the college, heavily vandalized with charcoal and chalk, and said it was built to keep people out of the collapsed bunker within.

"If you had the cement to build four walls and a roof around it, couldn't you have just filled the hole?" Abraham asked.

"Well, that is the question, isn't it."

She held the door for him and waved him into the cobwebbed college foyer. Must and mildew tickled his nose. He rubbed his eyes and squinted at the interior. It was just as run-down as the elementary, built mainly of cement at ground level. When he looked up the rickety stairwell, he noticed that the upper levels were constructed with old wood and plaster. A burgundy carpet ran the length of the foyer.

Jen indicated to the two doors before the stairs. "These are our blacksmithing classrooms, discounting Master Hughes' reclusive little hideaway."

"Ah! What do they make in those classes?"

"All sorts of things, really. Each student decides what he or she wants to make for themselves, and after proper training, if they do it well, they can have their 'Master' title approved."

"Could I see?"

"I'm afraid I don't have keys to those rooms." Jen smiled sympathetically. "You could always come in during the week and ask to sit in."

Abraham smiled in return. "Perhaps I will."

When she turned her back to start up the stairs, he scowled and muttered a curse. He quickly tried a knob before trailing after her. He thought he could break it if he needed to.

She brought him to her mechanics classroom, and let him peek into carpentry and textile rooms on the same level. He feigned interest for these, and for all the remaining classrooms that she had access to, fixated on the the two doors on the first level. He'd broken his glasses just under a month prior, but with the plague's film over his eyes, he hadn't been able to make much use of them, then. He missed them now, aggravated at everything that blurred in the distance. He trudged behind Jen in a perpetual state of agitation.