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Hidden away in a quiet cottage on Nomansan Island, deep in the far end of the forest on a particularly picturesque curve of the island’s shoreline, was a man who shouldn’t exist.
More accurately, if the man somehow ceased to exist, the completion of certain plans would be much easier. Yet he there he persisted, solely at the grace of the one who would benefit the most if he disappeared.
Back at the Institute, Dr. Curtain sat alone in his office. He contemplated the phone on his desk and the predicament of the man in the cottage.
The cottage had a wonderfully clear view of the ocean, facing away from Stonetown and the rest of the mainland. Its walls were painted a cheerful—albeit muted— yellow. The furniture matched the sleek and modern silhouettes of the rest of the Institute. Large, empty bookcases lined the walls of the main room. Small bathroom, modest kitchenette. Sunrise and sunset were easily observed from its large south-facing windows. All in all, it was a fairly pleasant place to be imprisoned.
The man in the cottage was none other than his long lost, traitorous twin brother. But there was no point in getting lost in the semantics. He needed to be rational about the situation if he was ever going to get out of it.
Dr. Curtain glanced at his wristwatch. He blocked out a chunk of his schedule for this— strategy, preparation, and the call. There was still time. He turned his attention back to the phone on his desk. He picked up the receiver, but his other hand hesitated over the dial pad. He had the number memorized, but had never actually called it before.
He muttered under his breath. “Hello, Nicholas. Hello, Nicholas.”
Each button press was slow and deliberate. The dial tone rang. What a strange feeling, knowing someone was on the other end. The receiver clicked, and Nicholas’ voice piped through.
“Nathaniel! I was wondering when you would call.”
Dr. Curtain tsked. “ Hello , Nicholas. A bit impatient now, aren’t we?”
“Ah. Yes, yes, well,” Nicholas seemed to have picked up a stutter at some point during their years apart. “I hope you’ll forgive me for saying so. There’s not much else I can do here, besides waiting.
Are you sure this line is safe?” he said, voice fluttering with trepidation.
“If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t be calling you. There’s no way the Sender can intercept this line.”
“Of course, of course. Forgive me, surely you understand why I’m so apprehensive about everything. Given the nature of the technology— signal interception, injection— it’s all within the domain of the Sender, yes? We’re deep in the belly of the whale, now.”
Nicholas kept talking. He had also apparently developed the tendency to ramble. “I’m so used to… communicating with codes, roundabout terminology. It’s strange now, to speak so freely while we’re stuck in enemy territory.”
Dr. Curtain leaned back into his own chair. He gazed out the window. The sky was a bright, nearly uninterrupted blue— near the horizon, only faint whispers of clouds hung in the sky. A rare sunny day for the season. “Enemy territory, hm? Is that how you think of it?”
“Perhaps that’s putting it a bit bluntly. But yes,” Nicholas said. “I would qualify ‘kidnapped by the Sender’s forces and held captive’ as being stuck in enemy territory.
Even,” a slight smile crept into his voice, “if I’ve miraculously found an ally among their ranks.”
========
Nicholas woke up groggy and confused. What happened? He grasped desperately for memories that only came back in bits and pieces. The alarm going off. The great cracking of doors broken open.
He felt a rising panic when he noticed restraints on his hands. The shouting of his friends— where were they now? Flashes of silver watches and lightning and then nothing.
"Well. Look at who’s finally awake.” A new voice cut through his thoughts, familiar yet strange. Another memory he couldn’t quite place.
========
***
“We’ve been over this. You can’t contact anyone at all,” said Dr. Curtain.
“Yes, yes, I know— But they must be so worried.” said Nicholas. The tiny spark of joy from before was gone.
“You would only be putting them in danger. Or are you really so selfish to risk the safety of your associates, just to let them know nothing of consequence? But I suppose putting your own needs first is just part of your nature, isn’t it?”
Even though he couldn’t see him, he could imagine Nicholas quite easily. The rustling of fabric and slight creak in the chair betrayed his movements—Nicholas shrank back from the receiver.
Nicholas stammered for a moment. Then he sighed, the sound staticky and defeated.
Dr. Curtain made a mental note. The chair needed maintenance, likely just some screws adjusted on the back posts.
“Nicholas, you know that this is for your own good. The Sender is dangerous. They were starting to catch on to you. If you make any moves or attempt to contact anyone outside of this line, you will undo everything I did to keep you safe.”
Nicholas’ voice was quiet. “I know. I’m sorry.”
========
“Nathaniel...? Is that really you?” Nicholas said. “What are you doing here?”
His brother stood across the room, observing him silently. His expression was cold.
Shock was evident on Nicholas’ face— eyes wide, mouth agape. But soon his eyebrows furrowed together. “No…” he said. “No, it couldn’t be…”
The incredulous look on his face slowly morphed into something more fearful. Realization slowly began to dawn, pieces falling into place in the most obvious yet horrible way.
“It can’t be… You can’t be…?”
The chair he was sitting in, the room and the earth around him threatened to fall away. Tears began to form and his throat tightened with fear. Their eyes locked together.
Something unreadable flashed in his brother’s eyes.
“What?” Nathaniel said indignantly. “You can’t seriously think that I’m behind the Emergency, can you?”
========
“Forgive me, I…” Nicholas said. “I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to be patient.”
Dr. Curtain hummed. Forgive me . Weren’t those the words he waited a lifetime to hear? He shook his head, trying to ignore the thought. Now wasn’t the time to get sentimental.
“Yes, well,” Dr. Curtain said, regaining his mental footing. “Enough chit chat. I called you for a specific reason. Expect a package to arrive at your door within the next fifteen minutes. It contains some extra provisions, enough for a week. I trust that you will be able to ration appropriately.
You will hear three knocks at the door. Do not open the door until another ten minutes have passed to ensure no one sees you. Understand?”
“Yes, I understand,” Nicholas said. More crackling noises passed through the receiver. “How… how long will I stay here?”
Dr. Curtain adjusted his grip on the phone. “I can’t say,” he said. He hesitated for a moment. “But I won’t abandon you now.”
“Thank you.” More crackling. “Thank you. Someday, I hope I’ll be able to repay you for this. For everything.”
***
After exchanging some other pleasantries, reassurances, and other ultimately pointless talk , Dr. Curtain finally managed to end the call. He put down the receiver with a satisfying click.
“Even if I’ve miraculously found an ally among their ranks.”
He sighed— a clipped, humorless exhale. He closed his eyes and took another breath, deeper this time. He didn’t realize it while they were speaking, but an annoying tension had started to grip his chest.
Nicholas was always so trusting. Trusting to a fault. The real miracle was how he managed to survive for so long with an attitude like that.
Minor annoyances aside, the call was a success overall. Nicholas suspected nothing, and he would remain in the cottage for the time being.
Clearly, there was a tactical advantage to keeping his brother on the island. Even if the initial decision was, admittedly, spur-of-the-moment. It turned out to be a subconscious stroke of genius.
The movements of his greatest potential enemy were accounted for. Now, no further plans could be put into action, no forces could be mobilized against him. The Whisperer’s development would proceed without impediment. The Emergency would continue as planned. Soon, the world would know true order and peace.
Nicholas should be grateful, anyways. He was in terrible shape when Dr. Curtain first saw him (the recent kidnapping notwithstanding). Dark bags under his eyes, unruly hair— he seemed like a bundle of nerves, simultaneously over-caffeinated yet constantly exhausted. A bird plucking out its own feathers. He was fighting a pointless fight, one that was destined to fail. It was a kindness to bring him out of that darkness.
And he was grateful, wasn’t he? Every other sentence he uttered was prefaced with some apology or expression of gratitude.
“I’m sorry. Forgive me.”
How anyone could be so naive was a wonder. Even though the facts were laid out before him, even though there was only one rational conclusion to draw, he jumped at the opportunity to believe a lie. To believe that the brother he abandoned would still try to help him, see him as an ally or as a friend.
Some quiet, secret part of Dr. Curtain protested. Who was worse, it said, the fool that believed a lie, or the one who deceived him in the first place?
He shook the thought from his mind. There was no need to get caught up in pointless questions. Everything, absolutely everything he did was for the greater good.
Nothing in the world could stop him from completing his mission. Not even the look of horror on Nicholas’ face when he got too close to the truth.
In any case, even when considering the quandary of the “involuntary” imprisonment, Dr. Curtain still held the moral high ground. He could have omitted Nicholas from his plans and simply disposed of him. He could have kept him in some hideous interrogation room. Yet, who was the one who insisted on building that cottage? Who kept it cleaned and maintained, even as it stood empty for many years?
Nicholas would have come home eventually. This just moved the timeline up a bit.
Dr. Curtain leaned back in his chair and looked out the window. The sky was as bright and sunny as ever. But small clouds started to gather near the horizon.
***
Exactly fifteen minutes after the call ended, Nicholas heard three knocks at the door of the cottage. He noted the position of the minute hand of the clock on the wall, sighed, and continued to wait.
This time he decided to amuse himself by staring at the ceiling and attempting to estimate its surface area. It wasn’t a terribly exciting task, but he couldn’t afford to be picky with his methods of entertainment. There was only so much furniture rearrangement he could take in a day.
After the ten minutes were up, he carefully rose from his chair. Warm, fresh air rushed through the door when he opened it. Sunlight streamed through the opening, as well as birdsong and the rustling of a gentle summer breeze. He longed to sit outside and enjoy the beautiful day.
But he remembered his position, and his debt to Nathaniel. The very least he could do was try to take care of himself. Minimize exposure, minimize risk. He brought the crate inside and swiftly closed the door.
The crate contained a generous supply of non-perishable foods, and even some fresh fruits and vegetables. This, combined with the supplies that already stocked the cottage, would easily last a week.
He cracked open one of the south-facing windows. Sounds of the open ocean began to faintly fill the space. He busied himself by organizing the new supplies. Number Two might have enjoyed the challenge of fitting so many items in such a small kitchen.
His heart panged at the thought of Number Two. She must be bouncing off the walls with anxiety. Not to mention Rhonda, and Milligan of course— darkness clouded Nicholas’ mind. What must they be thinking?
He shook his head. He had to stay calm and be strong, for their sake. This would keep them safe. This would keep everyone safe.
After putting away the last of the supplies, he finally noticed a small, unassuming package at the very bottom of the crate. It was carefully wrapped in a few layers of plain newsprint and held together with a simple twine knot.
Nicholas began to smile as he unwrapped the package. Ivanhoe, with a few other books stacked underneath.
Dutifully, he lined them up in the first empty bookshelf.