David Golemon: Leviathan

The sound of loud footfalls, possibly that of several men, came through the thick double doors. The professor held his index finger to his lips to make sure Octavian quieted. Then he hurriedly took his son by the shoulders and pushed him toward the cot. He wrapped him tighter in the blanket, shoved him to the floor, and looked deeply into Octavian's deep and beautiful blue eyes.

"You stay under here and come out for no reason, am I clear, my son?"

"Father, who could these men be?"

"I don't know, but I have noticed strangers around the university, and several have been following me the past two months. Now, Octavian, answer me, do you understand?"

"Yes, Father." The boy looked up into Heirthall's tired features. "I can be of help."

"I know you could, but sometimes you must know when to use silence as an ally, not strength. Understand me, son, stay under the cot."

The boy nodded.

With his answer, Heirthall helped the boy slide under the cot until he could go no farther. Then he stood and faced the double doors. The hallway beyond the framed window was dark, but he could still see moving shadows there. A loud knock sounded.

"Professor Heirthall, this is Dr. Hansonn. May I come in?"

Heirthall walked to the door, started to reach for the handle, and then stopped short.

"Why would the dean of biology be here at this hour, Doctor?" he called through the thick wood. "And why is he accompanied by others?"

"I have a friend that wishes to speak to you."

"My work is not for examination by anyone, including you. Now please take your friends and go away, I wish to—"

"Professor Heirthall, I assure you, this is not about your fanciful dream of underwater vessels — it's about your fossil."

"The fossil has been lost since the last time you inquired about it. I see no reason—"

The doors split apart and crashed inward. Two very large men quickly entered, followed by three more. Dr. Hansonn was there, and standing beside him was a man that Heirthall recognized immediately.

"Why have you brought this profiteer of history to my laboratory?"

The rotund man removed his top hat and pushed by the Norwegian biology dean.

"I will be happy to answer that," the man said as he handed his hat to the larger of the two men. "Professor, we care not for your dreams of underwater fantasies, sir; we have come to buy the fossil from you. I am willing to pay handsomely for it, I assure you."

"You have already decried it a hoax. Why would you want it if no one believes it's real?"

The man turned and took a few steps away, deep in thought; he held his right hand to his lips. "I have to have it, Professor. Not for any public display, I have plenty of tomfoolery to enthrall the public. The unique specimen in your possession is for me alone — to amaze myself as to the wondrous nature of our world. I will not harm it or display it, only love it."

"Again, Mr. Barnum, I have lost the specimen. Now please take your men and get out."

Heirthall watched P. T. Barnum as the man deflated.

"I implore you, Professor, I am only a man who wishes to understand the world around me," he said as he noticed Dean Hansonn move to the far wall.

Hansonn walked toward one of the lanterns and blew out the flame. He then reached up, pulled the lantern from the wall, and smashed it to the floor, and the smell of lamp oil immediately permeated the lab.

"Now, we have but mere minutes, Professor, before the oil is ignited by my associates. So if you will, the fossil, please."

Heirthall looked at his Norwegian colleague. The man glared at him in return.

"How can you do this? This science is for the betterment of all, and you are willing to destroy that over a fairy tale?"

P. T. Barnum looked from Heirthall to the man he thought was helping him purchase the fossil.

"There is no need for threats of violence. Professor Heirthall is far too important to gamble," he said as he reached for a rag to clean up the spilled lamp oil.

The dean nodded to one of the large men, who stopped Barnum from going to his knees to clean the spill.

"Professor, we haven't the need for your amazing mechanical apparatus. Just the fossil, please," Hansonn said.

When Heirthall made no move to retrieve the fossil, Hansonn nodded for his men to take action. One held Heirthall and the others started tearing apart the lab as Dr. Hansonn stepped forward.

"Gentlemen, I implore you to stop this madness. The fossil is not worth losing this man's work!" Barnum cried out to Hansonn. "You will not receive one red cent, I assure you. This is not the way!"

Hansonn gestured to a large wooden vault on the opposite wall while holding a white handkerchief to his nose and mouth.

Heirthall was straining in the arms of the bigger man as he saw the men tear through the thick wood of the vault and pull the glass-encased, alcohol-protected specimen out. Barnum stood stock-still in the arms of Hansonn's hirelings and watched as the dean stepped up and placed a loving hand over the glass as he saw the remains inside.

"There truly is a God," Hansonn said. "Take it out of here and get it to the ship. We leave on the next tide." He turned to Barnum. "And I assure you, Mr. Barnum, you will pay me what is owed."

"If you harm the professor, you'll get spit from me. This was not the arrangement!"

"We will stop you. The world can never know about what that specimen represents," Heirthall said, straining against the man that held him.

"It's either this fossil or your wife, Professor. You looked shocked that I know about the medical procedure you performed on her several years ago. I know all about her illness, and how you arrested it. So it's either this fossil, or your wife…. Which is it?"

"You scum, you could never harm my wife!"

"Yes, yes, we know your estate is very well guarded, that is why we were forced to come here. We are not barbarians, Professor, the sea angel you have here is quite enough," Hansonn said as he nodded at the man holding Heirthall.

The knife went unseen to the professor's throat and sliced neatly through it.

"I am truly sorry, but I can't have the authorities chasing me forever. After all, I am going to be a very rich man from this day forward," Hansonn said, looking with dead eyes toward Barnum. "Now, spread more oil on the floor; the professor is about to have a horrible laboratory accident."

Barnum screamed in terror at what was happening.

"You bastard, nothing is worth this. I… will see you hang, sir!"

"Then you will hang right beside me, my American friend. After all, you will be in possession of the most remarkable fossil in the history of the world. So, Mr. P. T. Barnum, I would make sure there were two ropes hanging in the death gallery that day."

Barnum went down to his knees when the evil plan was made clear to him. The world would never believe that the verbose pitchman wasn't involved in this murder. He was doomed to go along.

As he slowly raised his head, he saw the boy hiding under the cot. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, Barnum learned more about himself than he ever thought he would. He shook his head, and with spittle coming from his mouth, said he was sorry so that only the boy could see.

Octavian's deep blue eyes went from Barnum to his father's body only inches from the cot. He tried to scream, cry, anything, but nothing came out. He heard the men leaving with their prize, and that was when he saw the dying eyes of his father. Roderick Deveroux, the man now known as Heirthall, was looking at his son, fully aware his death was imminent. The footsteps retreated to the nearby door, and a lighted match was tossed inside just before the doors closed.

The fire was starting to spread fast in the crowded lab and was working toward the highly explosive batteries. Heirthall managed to keep his eyes open even as his blood spread toward his cowering son. Then he tried to raise his hand. He extended his finger, but then his hand fell to the wooden floor and into his own blood. His eyes closed as Octavian reached out with a shaking hand and tried to touch his dying father. Heirthall's eyes opened one last time. Instead of raising his hand to indicate for the boy to run, he allowed his finger to do his talking. He only managed three letters: HEN .