The room was lit by a single candle and Solomon could see the doctor sitting cross-legged across from him on the bed, the yellow-orange candlelight falling upon her bare skin and looking like warm gold. She smiled at him and he smiled back, a little childlike.

"Julia, I can hardly believe it."

She laughed lightly as she lit a cigarette.

"That good, eh?"

"No. I mean yes, of course, it was fantastic. I mean that I can't believe all that's happened to me in the last two days. It's like a dream and a nightmare, all rolled up in one." Solomon lit a cigarette for himself and leaned back against the cool wall. "Two days ago, I was just a workaday nobody inspecting condemned buildings and counting the days until I could retire. Then, literally, all hell breaks loose and I'm shown a side of reality I never would have dreamed of, let alone experienced. It's almost like living a second lifetime in only forty-eight hours."

Solomon sucked a deep drag on the cigarette and let out the smoke like a man who suspected this might be his last one for a long time. Maybe forever.

"It's kind of funny," she said, reaching out with her slender foot and touching his leg. "You and Carpenter act as though you've known each other for years."

Solomon smiled.

"It's the intimacy only a man and his priest can share."

She laughed at the small joke.

"So where did you meet Carpenter?" he asked.

"I've known him for about twenty years, all told. I met him at a seminar for paranormal studies in Boston. He just happened to agree on a few theories I hold with. We talked at length, exchanged cards and one day I got a letter from him asking if I'd help him in a small matter. Turns out it was a horrific situation involving a hideous dwarf --"

Solomon interrupted.

"The Hob's Lane Dwarf?"

She frowned.

"How'd you know about that?"

Solomon smiled.

"Carpenter mentioned it."

The Doctor paused to savour another puff from her cigarette and then continued.

"I only saw the results of that case, but I wasn't directly involved. I dug out some information for Carpenter and his gang and although it seemed odd, I was accustomed to bizarre phenomenon." She crushed out the cigarette in a battered ashtray on the bedside table and the candle flickered with the movement." When I saw just what had happened -- the death, the destruction. The pictures of that glowing ship, pulsating with -- veins and arteries. I very nearly called Carpenter up and told him to never contact me again."

Solomon looked at her with respectful eyes.

"But in the end my curiosity got the better of me and Carpenter knew I was hooked. So here I am, lucky for you."

She smiled again and crawled over to Solomon.

"I like you, Jess. As you can tell I don't get out much. I don't have what you'd call a social life. Being with you like this makes me realize what I've been missing for such a long time. I think I could get to like you a lot," she whispered as she pulled him closer and they embraced warmly, kissing each other softly.

"By the way, Jess," the doctor whispered as she ran her fingers through his thinning hair, "are you married?"

Solomon nearly laughed out loud at her audacity and hugged her close.

"No, baby. No, I'm not."

Carpenter awoke and for a few moments was tense and confused. Then memory returned and he relaxed. He sat up, stretched and turned to place his feet on the carpeted floor. Julia was right. He really needed the rest. He felt . . . good, maybe for the first time in years. Certainly the call of the bottle was there. It would always be there, Carpenter figured, but right now he was actually looking forward to dealing with this new threat. It was just like old times, he mused and smiled as he noticed his clothes, cleaned and folded on a chair by the door. He dressed quickly, and realized for the first time in a very long while that he was hungry.

He met Solomon in the computer room. He, too, was dressed in his own freshly cleaned clothes and had benefited from a shave. He looked up at him and put a look on his face he hadn't seen before.

"Everything ok, Jess?" Carpenter whispered as he noticed footsteps coming down the stairs outside.

"Oh, I'm fine," he said sheepishly. "Still a little tired. I didn't sleep well."

Carpenter looked into Solomon's eyes and he then understood, and began to laugh.

"I don't see what's so funny. That doctor friend of yours seduced me."

Solomon looked uncomfortable.

The door opened and the doctor appeared, smiling and looking quite satisfied.

"C'mon, boys. I have some supper waiting upstairs. I haven't had a chance to cook for company in a long time."

Carpenter, still smiling mischievously, patted Solomon on the shoulder and they both followed her upstairs.

The sat at a hurriedly cleared-off oak table before an enormous plattered mound of fried pork chops and a vast bowl of buttered mashed potatoes, to be washed down with several frosted bottles of strong Canadian beer. Carpenter seated himself and made motions to impale a fat, steaming chop on the end of his fork. Both the doctor and Solomon looked at Carpenter and for a moment he stared back, puzzled. Then he understood and smiled guiltily, restoring the meat onto its dish.

He folded his hands and spoke softly.

"Dear Lord, we thank you for this repast you have set before us. Please bless this food and drink and give us the strength to do your work this night. Amen."

"Thought you were getting rusty there, Carpenter." The doctor smiled, teasing. Then, without further words, they proceeded to fill their plates. No one spoke further of the impending adventure ahead; instead, they enjoyed the simple pleasure of good, plentiful food and warm companionship. Laughter and the warm, homey sound of forks clinking on plates sounded throughout the room and Carpenter watched as Solomon and Julia kept stealing glances at one another. He smiled sadly to himself. He truly hoped that the impromptu relationship would work out. There was so much to do and so little time to do it in. He was amazed at how calm he felt. Here on the literal Eve of Destruction, here he was, chowing down on delicious food and drink with barely a care in the world. Maybe it was supposed to be this way; maybe it wasn't just Julia, Solomon and himself. Maybe they had another member of their team who was already making moves and was waiting for them when they were ready.

Carpenter suddenly felt an even greater sense of well being and quiet confidence. They weren't alone in this world; they were never alone.

Dinner continued until hungers were satisfied. They all washed and dried dishes in an atmosphere of jubilation, as though they had just finished Christmas dinner and were looking forward to a relaxing evening of conversation, drinks and chocolate. Carpenter wondered if the Apostles felt this way as they enjoyed their last meal with their Master.

When all was done, they trooped back to the doctor's computer room and prepared for the final briefing they knew was to come. By now it was nearly six o'clock in the early evening and the shades of night were beginning to creep.

"All right, boys. While you were sacked out, I did a little looking around. I managed to intercept an encrypted e-mail message that has been bouncing around for the last day or so. A lot of drug-dealing and trafficking has been taking place on the net since transactions can't be traced yet. Anyone can go to an Internet bar or lounge, log on and do whatever dastardly deals they want with no record of it ever happening. I know, because that's how I got some of my more diabolical antique books."

Carpenter smiled.

"I didn't think that you ordered them through Barnes and Noble."

"You got that right. Anyway, I intercepted this encrypted e-mail through one of my many online aliases and the machine has been working on it for the last few hours, decoding it. I fed in a list of random words I gleaned from your description of what you had witnessed. I had a hunch that if I put out a search for any encrypted e-mail that included any of the words on my list, eventually I'd hit the jackpot; so I did. The only information in this particular message that wasn't in code was the signature."

"What was the name?" Carpenter sat forward in his chair.

"No name. Just two words. 'High Priest.'"

Carpenter looked aghast.

"You mean you had information about this all this time while we were stuffing our faces upstairs?"

A look of vague hurt flashed across the doctor's face for just a brief moment, but Solomon caught it and frowned at Carpenter.

"Keep your pants on, Carpenter. I just said the machine has been working on the encryption since it arrived a few hours ago. What would you have preferred? Getting some much-needed rest and a good meal or sitting in front of this monitor sweating over the code to be broken?"

Carpenter looked chastened.

"I thought so. Now, as it happens, the computer has nearly completed decoding the content of the message and the two of you are properly fed and rested enough to act on whatever we find."

Just then, a tinny voice spoke up from the console.

"I'm here to kick ass and chew bubble-gum . . . and I'm all out of bubble-gum."

The Doctor tapped a key and the message scrolled up onto the monitor. She scanned it and turned to the two men.

"It says, 'Attention, purveyors of exotic pharmaceuticals; take advantage of the security and privacy of the abandoned Titan Foundry building. There will be no charge for this service and plenty of profit to be made.'" the doctor read the missive as it scrolled upward. "That's all, except for the address, date and time."

The room grew silent, but for the unconcerned humming of the computer.

"And when is this pharmaceutical free-for-all due to take place?" Carpenter's face was grave.

The Doctor looked grim.

"In about two hours."

Solomon looked puzzled.

"So what does it mean?"

Carpenter turned to face Solomon.

"Tsathoggua had our Mr. Frohickey arrange a nice buffet meal for itself. The combined life force of a crowd of eager drug dealers will be more than enough to bring it into our world for keeps; unless we can do something to prevent it.

Carpenter stood up.

"Then we have to go now."

"I agree. Let's go."

The doctor powered down her instrument.

"Not you, Julia. This is --"

"What? Man's work? You gotta be kidding me. I can see what our resources are; a drunkard ex-priest and a recruit from the bush leagues. No offense, darlin'. You're going to need all the help you can get. And I'm not going to sit here and wonder how it all turned out, no sir." The doctor laid down the law and neither Carpenter or Solomon could find reason to argue with her. The truth was, they were out of their league and scared.

"One more thing; Jess, you got any more money?"

"No. Not any more."

He shot an aggravated look at Carpenter who shrugged.

"Well, it's settled then, 'cause I got a car. Let's get moving."

With that, the group turned out the lights and locked up the old house. One of them would never return.

The car was a small, foreign import of indeterminate age and colour. They piled in and the doctor took the wheel. The engine growled and started without difficulty.

"I keep the insides in prime condition. The crappy exterior helps it blend in with the neighborhood." The doctor smiled.

The vehicle pulled out of its driveway and was soon speeding away into the nearing sunset.

The journey was made in silence, as each of them finally was forced to confront what this night's work might entail. There was a certain primal comfort, being encapsulated within the secure confines of the auto, dim streetlights waxing and waning, headlamps flashing by and the gentle sense of motion and speed. Carpenter was strapped in the back seat of the slightly cramped car. It reminded him of rides with his parents long ago. He could lie in the back seat of the car as they drove home in the dark of evening after a visit to some distant relative. As a child, he remembered how reassuring it was to hear the gentle conversation between his mother and father during the trip home. There were no worries and his young self possessed the absolute calm and unquestioning trust most children feel towards their parents. It was this that lulled him to sleep in those long ago, far away days of his distant youth. Oh, how he wished he could go back to that safe, dark back seat and sleep again.

Although it was only mentioned once, each of them had the dread knowledge burned into their memory by the sheer enormity of the sacrifice that was demanded to undo the horror they were hastening to meet. The willing sacrifice of one human would close and lock the gate through which the life-sucking monster Tsathoggua had managed to squirm out of. No one wanted to broach the subject, but it would soon be the focal point of everything and upon which all would depend. Carpenter decided to speak first.

"I'm the one, do you understand?"

"Huh? What did you say, Carpenter?" Solomon said from the front seat.

"I'm going to be the one," Carpenter repeated.

"Carpenter, you can't." It was the doctor's voice.

"I can and I will, Julia. Of the three of us here, I'm the most expendable," Carpenter argued.

"You've never forgiven yourself for what happened to Mathew and the rest of your team, have you? You figure by offering up your own life, you'll achieve some sort of karmic balance," the Doctor accused.

Solomon wanted to offer his own reasoning for preserving Carpenter's life, but found himself frozen in the act, wanting to disagree with him, but also quailing at the alternative. He didn't want to die; that was a certainty. And now that he had met and had become enamoured with Dr. Julia D'Archangelo, he actually thought there might be a future worth waking up to. He felt miserable with the guilt of it, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything.

"Julia, I understand why you're saying this. But it's something I have to do. Jess, you wondered why I had such a sudden change of heart after I stalked out of the bar two nights ago. I was finished and waiting to die. As I was about to be obliged by a gang of two-bit punks, I was -- visited." Carpenter hesitated, trying to think of a way to articulate what he had experienced. "I was confronted by a spirit who saved me from an ugly death. It was . . . Matthew."

No one spoke for a few moments. There was none of the 'were you imagining things' or 'there's bound to be a rational explanation'. If there was one thing Carpenter could be relied on, it was a solid, unvarnished recall of a definite supernatural occurrence.

"That's how I know that I have a destiny here. A chance to redeem myself after all these horrible years of guilt and self-pity. A second chance." Carpenter looked almost comforted by the thought. "It's my manifest destiny."

At that, no one could think of anything more to say, and the quiet was suddenly chill.

The drive continued and soon, the fortresslike bulk of the accursed building loomed ahead, the bloated, blood-red sun sinking behind it.

"So, what's our story?" the doctor broke the silence first.

"What do you mean?" Solomon frowned.

"We can't just walk in there with a dozen trigger-happy drug dealers hanging around looking for narcs."

"We're going in as drug dealers," Carpenter said mildly.

He rummaged in his coat pockets and withdrew the leather case containing the metal hypodermic syringe he had used on Willis Frohickey.

"This should help gain their confidence, and this will clinch the effect for us."

He brandished a small brown-leather wallet that he had secreted in the same pocket with the syringe case.

"What's that?" Solomon asked, puzzled.

"You'll know soon enough."

They parked the car some distance from the main building and got out, their features made ruddy by the dying sun. Carpenter looked into it for a few brief moments, taking what he believed would be his last view of the star.

"Ok, both of you. Roll up your sleeves."

Carpenter opened the leather wallet to reveal small glass vials of different colours and several short paintbrushes. He opened one of the vials and chose his finest brush, taking the doctor by the hand first.

"It's a makeup kit, if you haven't guessed by now. I'm going to simulate track marks on your arms and put some pallor on your faces and dark circles under your eyes. If we're going to be drug enthusiasts, we have to look the part."

Solomon smiled at Carpenter's ingenuity, but the doctor showed nothing. Carpenter worked on each of them for about ten minutes apiece and when he had put away his makeup kit, he was confronted by a pair of very desperate-looking junkies.

"What about you?" the doctor asked.

"I'm your father, who'll do anything, even commit a crime to keep you both happy. Now, look; this is a feeble disguise, I know, but as long as it gets us in the building. From there, we can hide and decide our next move. Now, let's get going."

They walked the remaining distance to the foundry, of which only the top half was illuminated by the vanishing sun. At once the group understood the significance of the sight. When darkness fell completely, the Horror would emerge, this time permanently. It was difficult not to rush, but they had to maintain the illusion of being an aged father doting on his two junkie children. They made their way across the dusty parking lot, aware that they were being monitored and they tried not to appear self-conscious.

When they made it to the door, they found that the chain and lock had been expertly picked and lay in the dust. The door was slightly ajar and a burly man seemed to ooze out of the darkness within. He wore dark glasses and a black leather coat that bulged suggestively under the armpit.

"Where do you think you're going, old man?" the thug spoke his cliché.

The doctor reached into her pocket and took out a folded piece of grimy paper, and handed it to the thug. He unfolded it and studied it briefly. He reached out and grabbed the doctor's arm and gave it a cursory glance.

"Wanna party later?" she breathed, her eyes dreamily half-closed. He smiled with an expression that said, 'Not if you were paying me, junkie-bitch.' Satisfied, he motioned them to enter and the door closed again.

Inside, it was a chore to get accustomed to the dark, but with the help of another thug they soon found their way to the oven-chamber. The buzz of conversation and the reek of cigarette smoke made its own dark atmosphere within. It was the smell of grubby bills and dirty drug-packets; of gun oil and sour sweat; of whispered threats and sudden death. In a way, thought Carpenter, it was worse than the otherworldly stench of Tsathoggua and its cosmic ilk.

When they were certain that they couldn't be overheard, Carpenter turned to the doctor. "What was that paper you gave that guy at the door? I thought we were almost out of the game back there."

She smiled smugly.

"Told you you'd need me. It was the printout of the invite to this little party."

Solomon smiled.

"Nice performance out there."

"Thanks. What do we do now, though?"

They stayed close as they watched clandestine deals being made; large ones with aluminum briefcases being traded and small ones with surreptitious exchanging of small white bags and crumpled bills. Twice they were approached by prospective sellers, but were turned down as they mentioned they were waiting to see what the best deals were going to be later into the night.

They made little impression on the gathering crowd of traffickers and as the trade increased they were soon forgotten and able to sink into the shadows, to finally disappear. The heady lure of easy money and the siren song of drugs made the dealers and buyers oblivious to anything without flashing lights and a uniform. Outside, the last noose of sunlight slipped off the top of the highest smokestack and the building was engulfed in shadow.

That's when it started.

Carpenter and the others were on the lookout for something to happen, but unsure of what. They stayed within the shadows of the far walls and watched the milling group of merchants. Then Solomon spoke in an urgent whisper.

"Hey! I see something. Look! The grate of the oven -- of all the ovens . . . they're glowing."

Even as he warned the others, the vertical slits of each of the eight ovens in the room gave off a bleary, sickly green light that increased in brightness by the passing second. Carpenter had only those seconds to act and he did so. He pulled out his pistol and fired it into the air twice. He began to bellow as soon as the echoing booms diminished.

"This is the Police! All of you, put your hands on your heads and drop to your knees! This is a raid!"

This prompted the response Carpenter had anticipated; they began to run. The crowd of thirty or more potential drug buyers/sellers pocketed their cash and snapped shut their cases and ran madly towards the doorway amidst shouts and curses. They never noticed the ever-building intensity of the monstrous light that began to illuminate the quickly emptying ruin.

In a moment, they were alone. The last of Tsathoggua's feast had scampered away and, with them, the only chance to achieve a permanent foothold on corporeal earth. When it appeared to find its plan destroyed, it wasn't likely to be happy.

"You two have to get out of here now!" Carpenter urged as the light grew brighter and a whistling tumult of wind gathered." It's going to be both pissed and ravenous. I told you that I had to be the one to put an end to it and that's what I'm going to do. Now go!"

They gazed upon Carpenter with stricken eyes and slowly backed away from him. The odd, luminous-paint effect began to manifest itself again, and the eerie, floating sphere that was so unsettlingly eyelike began to form near the high ceiling. It would be weak from lack of sustenance, but that would make it all the more voracious and vengeful. Carpenter knew he had to time his next move properly, or there might be no second chance.

He dropped his weapon and began to walk towards the entity.

Solomon and the doctor had left the main area of the chamber and were watching the events that were unfolding from the shelter of a heavy doorway that led to the outside. They saw Carpenter drop his gun and start his walk towards the heart of the coalescing horror. They were both frozen and speechless with fear and helpless grief as the inevitable began to unfold. Solomon's hands held the doctor's firmly as the green iridescence of the cavern grew brighter. A loud vibration began to throb through the structure and dust and small bits of plaster and cracked concrete started to drop from high above. It was a low, buzzing frequency that made the bowels flutter and the teeth ache. Carpenter was nearly in the centre of the room when he faltered. He stood, shaking his head and shouting inaudibly, then collapsed to the floor.

"Carpenter's down!" Solomon shouted above the rumble. "I don't know if that's what he intended to happen, but the thing doesn't look like it's vanishing anywhere."

The doctor looked on, her face set in a rictus of fear.

"He must have collapsed from exhaustion. What do we do now?"

Solomon's face calmed and he turned to the doctor.

"There's only one thing we can do."

Carpenter was walking into the heart of the demon fire. He often wondered how he would face his end when it came. He had a moment of that experience five years ago when he wrestled the massive Sword of Archangel Michael across a chamber not unlike this one, filled with howling demons. This time, he was amazed that he felt no fear. He knew he was doing the right thing and for the right reasons. The pain and remorse he had been suffering through all these years hence would be over and he could be free.

The wind had been replaced by the gut-churning rumbling and he knew that Tsathoggua would be marshaling its remaining energies to strike out at him for interfering in its plan. Carpenter had to be at the epicenter of the manifestation for the sacrifice to have the maximum effect. Sacrifice at the improper moment would weaken Tsathoggua, but not banish it permanently. He marched on, feeling a dignity that he had been lacking for many years. It was going to work.

A swirl of wind whipped past him, making tiny funnels from the dust on the floor. The whirlwind increased in intensity and began to buffet him. He found it harder and harder to move forward and he then realized that the wind was trying to prevent him from getting to his destination. He fought it, thinking that it was another manifestation of Tsathoggua, but a whispering voice in his brain told him something he could barely believe.

"Father, this isn't your destiny. There is another who must take on this burden. There are tasks yet remaining for you."

The voice was clear and hazy at the same time, but Carpenter knew who it was. He gaped in shocked surprise.

"Matthew!"

He felt himself battered gently by the relentless whirlwind and he fell, exhausted on the floor, unable to fight the tempest.

"Whatever's happened to him, the sacrifice still has to happen. There's no choice."

Solomon looked into the doctor's gleaming wet eyes and kissed her with all the love and passion he could muster. Then, regretfully and all too soon, he released her.

"Goodbye, Julia. Thanks for everything. I've gotten more out of the last two days than . . . well, you know what I mean. Take care, sweetheart; remember me."

And with that he strode off towards Carpenter's prone body. The doctor touched her lips where he had kissed her and wept, tears freely coursing down her lean cheeks.

"Goodbye, Jess," she whispered.

Solomon stooped briefly over Carpenter and looked for signs of life. He was relieved to see the old man breathing and staring wildly at him.

"Don't worry, Carpen -- I mean, Father. I know what to do. Take care of Julia for me will you?" He hesitated and found he had little more to say, "I gotta go, Father. Maybe I'll see you again some time."

And with that, he turned and walked onward. Carpenter could do nothing more than watch. Solomon's figure became a silhouette before the now-strident green brilliance of the nearly-emerged god-being. Booming sounds, like the distant rumble of artillery sounded and reverberated throughout the glaringly bright room and Carpenter realized that the thing was speaking. Solomon, at that point vanished within the almost-unbearably scintillant heart of the inferno and everything went black.

Carpenter was never certain afterwards whether he had been unconscious and dreaming or awake and hallucinating at that moment, but there was a part of the incident that he never spoke of. Even Julia D'Archangelo, who had better reason than most to be told everything, was never informed of what Carpenter had seen, or thought he had seen, when everything went black and the unclean brilliance of Tsathoggua was extinguished forever.

He recovered from his alcohol dependency or at least as well as anyone ever does. He eventually found his way back to the Church where he was welcomed back as the prodigal son he was. He presented the case of the Incident to the Archbishop and the Vatican representative and was restored to good graces and more. He visited Doctor D'Archangelo occasionally and sometimes they took dinner together. They never spoke of the incident and both of them had plenty of other subjects to occupy their conversation, so the subject remained buried under small talk and work talk.

It was a year later that Carpenter found himself at the doctor's house once more, to research a new case and to enjoy her company. She had made dinner for them and when it came time to sit at the table, Carpenter was fatigued from his studies and ravenous.

"Julia, I'm so glad we see each other more often now. You can't imagine how awful I felt all those years. I sometimes still can't believe I made it out."

The doctor smiled, her face a little leaner than a year ago, but still filled with the indefinable quality of youth that helped make her the scientist she was.

"Trust me; you made it." she spoke as she entered the room carrying a platter. She set it down and Carpenter looked at the contents with more than a trace of surprised sadness.

"Pork chops," he said quietly with a faint smile.

"And mashed potatoes with butter," the doctor smiled. "It's been over a year now. I thought it would be nice to remember him by."

Carpenter smiled as well.

"I set a spot for him, too," she said, a quaver in her voice, "and a candle in the window." At that she began to sob, and Carpenter held her until the spell lessened.

"It's ok, Julia. I miss him, too."

He held the woman until she was compelled to get up in search of a handful of tissues. When she had settled down, they took their places at the table to eat and drink as they knew Solomon would have wanted them to. The meal was eaten with gusto, but tinged with a note of melancholy as their eyes fell on the empty chair and table setting. Carpenter smiled sardonically as he eyed the brightly conspicuous soda bottles that had taken the place of beer.

Afterwards they lingered over the chilled soft drinks. The mood now was sombre, but not unpleasant. The doctor and Carpenter laughed with genuine humour over off-colour jokes she had heard and even Carpenter told a joke of questionable taste he had heard during his 'exile,' as he referred to those years. Then a moment of silence fell, and the two of them looked into each others' eyes and Carpenter spoke.

"Julia, there's something I should tell you. It's about the night this whole thing ended. When Jess went into -- where he went and the darkness fell, I saw something. I never told anyone about this because I couldn't prove I was even conscious at the time. But it concerns Jess, so I think I should tell you."

The Doctor took a long pull from her bottle and crossed her arms on the table.

"Go ahead, Carpenter. I had a feeling that you were holding out on me, even back then. I was wondering if you'd ever bring up the subject."

She fiddled with a spoon.

Carpenter looked surprised at the doctor's comment but continued. "It was very brief. When I fell, you thought I had collapsed from exhaustion. Well, I did; but exhaustion brought on by fighting against . . ." Carpenter paused, trying to word his statement properly, ". . . a ghost."

The doctor frowned and dropped the spoon.

"A ghost? Whose ghost?"

Carpenter knew she would believe that he had seen a ghost. It was the matter of its identity that concerned her.

"It was Matthew."

"What was he doing? Why was he trying to stop you?" Her voice, now honing an edge, lost its comforting warmth.

"He told me I still had work to do here. He told me it wasn't my time yet. And I fell, unable to move or even speak."

"So that's why Jess sacrificed himself? Because your old buddy intervened? Jess might be alive right now if --" The doctor suddenly realized what the end of that statement would be if she continued and stopped abruptly, her face reddening.

"He'd be alive and I wouldn't. I know. But remember, I had made my decision. If I could have stopped Jess I would have. To see him take my place broke my heart; he hadn't wanted anything to do with this. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time and I knew it. But the deed is done and at least we have the knowledge of what his sacrifice bought. But that's not what I wanted to tell you. I want to tell you what happened after everything went dark."

Carpenter unwrapped a stick of gum and folded it into his mouth, chewing with the rapid dedication only another ex-smoker could understand.

"I don't know how long I lay there. It couldn't have been long, but it seemed like hours. I heard voices, music, shouting. Maybe it was subconscious echoes in my own head, for all I know. But one event was very clear. I saw two figures approach me from the distant darkness. They got closer and I realized I knew both of them. It was Matthew and," Carpenter hesitated for a moment, "and Jess."

"Jess?" the Doctor said with a look of shock.

"Yeah, Jess. He was dressed in a dark robe, as was Matthew. They came up to me and the two of them were smiling down at me. Matthew spoke first.

"Sorry to buffet you about like that, Father, but I'm still really rusty at manifestations in the physical world. I just thought you should know that everything is as it was and Tsathoggua has been banished for good. There may be other gates, but this one will never open again. Just like old times, eh, Father? I know how you've suffered and blamed yourself for what happened all those years ago, but you have to put it behind you. You did what you had to do and we all believed it was right. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made, but that's what buys safety and peace for everyone else.

"Julia, he looked at me with forgiveness and understanding and from that moment, I really felt I could make it out of the pit I had dug for myself. But then Jess spoke and I was really afraid of what he might say to me now.

"'Carpenter, you wouldn't believe some of the things I've seen here. It's incredible! I'll admit that I was a little pissed at your man here for stacking the deck so I'd have to take the fall, but after what I've experienced here, I can't thank him enough. I also know things that make everything else so much easier to understand. If only everyone else knew . . . anyway, I've been allowed to tell you something. There are more jobs for you ahead and for some of them you'll need our help. That's all I can tell you, but when the time comes, you'll know what I mean.' And then the two of them actually smiled at each other as though they'd just joined in a conspiracy."

Carpenter finished his soda and set the bottle down lightly.

"He had one more thing to say. He said, 'Tell Julia thanks for one of the finest moments in my life . . . and that I'd like to see her again.'"

The doctor's eyes widened and after an indeterminable moment, she began to laugh.

Carpenter, shrugged, not knowing how to interpret this reaction. He waited until she calmed down.

"My god!" she spoke through stray chuffs of laughter. "So that's what's been going on."

"Julia, what are you talking about?"

"Carpenter, for the last two weeks I've been thinking about Jess, unable to write without inadvertently typing Jess' name in my manuscripts and seeing his face in magazine and book illustrations. Don't you see? It is Jess. He's been trying to get my attention all along." She smiled and looked at the vacant chair with warmth. "Maybe he's with us right now."

Carpenter also looked and smiled. It was just possible.

"Oh, Carpenter. I just remembered. I have something for you here. I was out skimming pawn shops and second hand stores like I usually do on Saturdays, when I felt a compulsion to visit this one store near that crappy apartment you used to live in. I didn't want to be in that part of town, but I had the weirdest sense of needing to be there. I thought it was peculiar, but after what you've now told me, it all comes together."

She reached into a pocket and withdrew something small that glinted. She dropped it into Carpenter's cupped hand and he gasped.

"I went into the place, saw the thing and bought it, all in the space of a minute or so. I usually browse for hours at places like that. But that day, I was there for only one thing. And there it is," she said triumphantly.

In Carpenter's open hand was the Ecclesiastical College ring he had pawned for whiskey so long ago. His eyes became moist at the sight and his fingers curled around it as he wept. The doctor held him close and cried as well.

The next day, Carpenter's driver rang the doorbell of the mansion and Carpenter himself, refreshed and dressed in stark black suit and charcoal grey trenchcoat, answered the door and told the driver he'd be out in a minute.

The doctor joined him at the door.

"Thanks for staying over, Carpenter. I appreciate you telling me what Jess had said to you. You were right in holding back till now. I wouldn't have been able to handle it back then." She smiled and held Carpenter close, kissing him on the mouth. "Mmm, that tastes a hell of a lot better than last time."

She opened the door and he stepped out. He entered the big, black auto that waited patiently on the street and waved at her through the window as it pulled away.

He sat thinking about all that had happened and how all the pieces did seem to fit sometimes. He thought about what Matthew had said and what Jess had said. He also wondered at the remark Jess had made about needing their help one day.

That was a day he honestly looked forward to.

Created: August 17, 1999; Updated: August 9, 2004