Bridge of Sighs and Other Stories

By Edward T. May

**Investigators are shocked when they finally discover the source of a devastating plague.
**A horror writer's devotee is surprised to find a more dedicated follower, and is then reduced to abject terror when his true identity is revealed.
**A classified military project on an isolated island goes terribly wrong when the test subjects take control.
**A magazine editor learns the secret behind an artist's realistic paintings, and wishes she hadn't.
**An object found inside an ice core spawns an amazing tale, recounted from an insane asylum.
**An alien, tasked with determining which humans are worthy to be saved from impending doom, comes to a surprising conclusion.
**A detective uncovers the appalling truth behind a mass suicide.

Bridge of Sighs and Other Stories is a melange of science fiction, mystery and horror genres. Marinated in irony and liberally seasoned with unexpected denouements, these literary confections will provoke the reader to a veritable page flipping frenzy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 17, 2001
• ISBN: 9781469767284

Edward T. May

Edward T. May graduated from the University of Colorado in 1981 with a B.S. in Aerospace Engineering. Currently, he divides his time between teaching and writing. He has authored four previous collections of short stories. He resides in Colorado with his wife and two sons.

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© 2001 by Edward T. May

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher.

Writers Club Press

an imprint of iUniverse, Inc.

For information address:

iUniverse

2021 Pine Lake Road, Suite 100

Lincoln, NE 68512

www.iuniverse.com

The stories presented herein are works of fiction. The names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN: 0-595-17618-6 (Pbk)

ISBN: 0-595-74753-1 (Cloth)

ISBN: 978-1-4697-6728-4 (ebook)

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

The Sequel

Or

Adventures in Mythology, #1

Sweet Dreams

The Cult

The Penalty for Unconcern

Reality Split

Lone Wolf

Graveside Dialogue

Operation Polar Opposites

The Project at Maratunga

Objet D’art Or Adventures in

Mythology, #2

So Full of Sorrow

The Death of Compulsion

Insanity’s Children

Competitors

Bridge of Sighs

The Reprieve

Hairy Biped

Undoubtedly Primitive

Games in the Jungle

Memories are Made of These

Ice Core #317

Or

Adventures in Mythology, #3

Author Biography

Dedicated to Jeanie, Scott, and Christopher.

The Sequel

Or

Adventures in Mythology, #1

For the chief malady of man is a restless curiosity

about things which he cannot understand.

Pascal

Pensees

Only the curious have, if they live,

a tale worth telling at all.

Alastair Reid

Curiosity

Samuel Blake, Deputy Director of the World Health Council, threaded his way through the crowd thronging the hallway as he hurried toward the operations center for the World Health Council. An urgent call from Max Washburn, the Chief of Operations for the European Division, initiated Sam’s frantic dash.

The double doors leading to the operations center opened obligingly as Sam approached. The atmosphere inside the center could best be described as controlled panic. Workers jabbered excitedly as updates on the situation filtered down through the various channels of communication. Messengers darted through the darkened interior like minnows in a pond. The department heads, disheveled and haggard, clustered around the electronic world map extending the entire length of the east wall.

Max, what’s all this… Sam began breathlessly.

A quick glance at the wall map abruptly silenced Sam. He gaped in horror as he noted the entire lower half of Greece, including Athens, enveloped in livid red, indicating a disaster of epic proportions. Even as Sam watched the deadly crimson blossom leapfrogged the Aegean and landed in Turkey.

Talk to me Max! What’s going on? Sam demanded.

The first word we received came from a small hospital on the island of Mikonos, Max explained. A woman was admitted after exhibiting signs of a skin rash. The attending physician initially diagnosed the problem as an allergic reaction, but before long it became obvious her problem was more serious.

Max stopped long enough to loosen his tie and swallow a gulp of cold coffee.

Within an hour her flesh began to disappear…

Flesh eating virus? Sam interrupted.

Max quickly shook his head.

No, that’s not what I mean, Max protested as he removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Come on Max, what exactly do you mean? Sam urged. We’ve got to get going on this thing!"

Max replaced his glasses.

"I mean the woman’s body began to…dissolve, literally dissolve. Sam, there’s nothing like this in any database, it’s completely new," Max assured him.

Sam peered at the map.

It’s fast too Sam, moves like wildfire, Max noted. Eight hours after exposure the entire body is totally dissolved into a…biotic puddle.

Sam stared in shocked disbelief, his mind grappling with the information Max was feeding him.

The details are still sketchy, but it appears to be an airborne contagion, Max continued. It seems to infect everyone it comes in contact with, and we’ve had no reports of survivors.

We’ve got to try and keep the news services from getting hold of this, Sam announced. Can you imagine the panic?

They’ve cooperated so far, Max said optimistically.

We need to get an investigative team to ground zero ASAP, Sam commanded. It’s already been assembled, it’s only waiting for your approval,

Max informed him.

Sam nodded.

Good. Where am I going? Sam demanded.

"Where are you going?" Max said with some agitation.

I’ll be going with the team, Sam responded with determination.

I’ve got to Max, you know that.

Max disapproved of Sam’s decision, but knew it was useless to argue.

We’ve been able to determine ground zero as the island of Siros in the Aegean, Max said. The initial victim was involved in an archaeological operation on the island.

The Aegean, Sam mused out loud. Why the Aegean? I’d expect something like this to come out of the rain forests of Africa, or the Southeast Asian swamps, but the Aegean?

Max could only shrug his shoulders in response.

I’d better get moving, Sam said as he turned and headed for the double doors.

Good luck Sam, Max called after him.

Sam looked back over his shoulder and managed a perfunctory nod by way of reply.

* * * * * * * * * *

The helicopter touched down at the main camp of the archaeological dig sponsored by the Athens Museum of History. Protective tarps, placed over excavation sites, billowed in the rotor wash. The investigative team, clad in protective suits, disembarked and headed for the expedition leader’s tent.

As the rest of the team began their duties, Sam began an inspection of the belongings of Elaine Arodnap, the chief archaeologist. After unearthing a vast array of artifacts the archaeologists were careful to catalog and neatly pack each item. Sam found coins, urns, figurines and tools crated and ready for shipment to a museum in Athens.

Arodnap’s work area was littered with maps and memorandums. A notebook bound in leather, nearly buried among the paperwork, caught Sam’s eye. It proved to be a journal of the day-to-day activities of the scientists. Sam learned, with the exception of Arodnap, the entire crew left a week earlier for an extended holiday. Sam turned to the entry written earlier that day.

Awoke this morning at 5:00 with rash on arms. It’s 7:00 and rash is worsening, it now covers my entire body. I’ve decided to take the boat to Mikonos for medical attention. Sam turned to the previous day’s entry. He allowed himself a glim mer of optimism as he read.

Find of the century! Nothing compares, with possible exception of Schliemann’s discovery of Troy. Uncovered while investigating newly opened structure accessed via the temple of Zeus. Can’t wait to see expressions of teammates when they return.

Since Arodnap alone among the archaeological team contracted the illness, and since the discovery mentioned in her journal was the only untoward event since the other team members’ departure, Sam knew Arodnap’s find must be related in some way to the epidemic.

Sam tucked the journal into a satchel hanging from his waist. Hoping to find directions to the temple of Zeus, he scanned the other documents. When a search of the desk proved fruitless, he turned his attention to a drafting table in the rear of the tent.

A dozen maps, rolled and tucked neatly into cylindrical, cardboard containers, were scattered about haphazardly. Sam snatched one at random and unrolled it on the drafting table. It proved to be a plat of the entire excavation site. Sam soon located the feature marked ‘temple of Zeus’, noting it was on the far end of the site. He took the map for reference and dashed out of the tent.

Sam hurried along the paths marked off by the archaeologists. Miniature clouds of dust created by his feet marked his progress. Before long he arrived at his destination. After making one last check with his map, he tossed it aside and entered the temple.

Once inside, Sam paused long enough to retrieve the flashlight hanging from his belt. After switching on the light he began a diligent search for an opening leading to an adjacent room. He walked slowly along the walls, inspecting each section from floor to ceiling. Toward the rear of the temple, he discovered a recessed doorway. He descended a stone stairway and found himself in a subterranean chamber approximately fourteen feet square, and six feet in height.

At the opposite end of the room stood a circular marble pedestal, perhaps three feet high. Placed atop the pedestal was an open chest approximately the size of a shoebox. On the floor at the base of the pedestal was another open chest, an apparent twin to the one resting above. Sam played the flashlight beam over the room’s interior. A tripod and video camera stood opposite the pedestal. Those items formed a complete inventory of the room.

Mystified, Sam walked over to the pedestal and inspected the chests. Both chests were open and empty. The workmanship on each was exquisite. Constructed of ivory and inlaid with solid gold borders, both chests bore an identical inscription meticulously written in Greek with tiny gems.

Sam moved on to the camera. He pressed the ‘POWER’ button and was surprised to see the green light illuminate. He next pushed the ‘STOP/EJECT’ button. When he removed the tape from the camera, Sam noticed it was completely rewound. He replaced the tape and slid the selector switch from ‘CAMERA RECORD’ to ‘CAMERA EDIT’, and then pressed the ‘PLAY’ button. With his eye pressed as close to the camera’s viewfinder as his bulky suit would allow, Sam began watching the last normal moments of Elaine Arodnap’s life.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ron Crowder, Director of the World Health Council, motioned for Max Washburn to be seated. A miniature version of the world map dominating the operations center twinkled on the wall behind Ron’s desk.

Okay, thanks Tom, I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something, Ron said as he replaced the phone in its cradle and turned his attention to Max.

What’s the story on this thing Max? I thought we had it confined to Greece and Turkey. I wish you’d let me know when things break down! Now I’ve got presidents and prime ministers crawling up my pants like fire ants.

I’m sorry Mr. Crowder, Max apologized. "We did take drastic action, closing down all air, land, and sea routes surrounding the affected area. Believe me, it was a Herculean task, requiring the cooperation of the armed forces of half a dozen countries."

Yes, yes, I realize you did your best, Ron said sympathetically as he began pacing.

One commercial airliner ruined our plans, Max sighed. "On a route from Athens to New York with a stopover in London. I know this must sound callous, but we were hoping the flight would never make it to London. After all, this disease is fast acting. A dead pilot and a water landing would have been best for everyone. However, the pilot apparently contracted the illness during the flight because he remained unaffected until touchdown in London."

Why wasn’t it quarantined once it got to Heathrow? Ron demanded to know.

Believe me sir, we were ready for it. Unfortunately, one of the food service workers didn’t get the word. He offloaded the food carts, and the disease right along with them.

Ron shook his head and turned his attention to the map.

What’s this mark? Ron waved his finger at a crimson splotch in France resembling a ruptured pustule. It seems to be along the flight path, but we know for a fact the plane didn’t stop there.

We think the plane released the contents of the lavatories at that point, Max explained with an ill-concealed wince.

Ron shook his head again.

"Do you know there’s actually talk about creating a cordon sanitaire with nuclear weapons around the affected areas?" Ron confessed.

Max bowed his head so he couldn’t see the map behind Ron’s desk, the city of London flaring red, like an angry welt.

What’s the word from Sam? Ron said hopefully. Did he find out how this thing started?

Max Washburn’s head sank a trifle lower at Ron’s question.

I’m afraid Sam committed suicide, Max mumbled.

Ron could only gape in astonishment. Max placed a package on the desk. Ron reached for the item.

The other team members confirmed he committed suicide, apparently after viewing this tape, Max said dejectedly.

Ron pursed his lips and drew his hand away from the tape momentarily upon hearing the explanation from Max. Then, with renewed determination, Ron grasped the tape and marched over to the VCR located in the corner of his office. He thrust the tape into the player and returned to his seat behind the desk. Soon, the television screen flickered to life and an attractive brunette began narrating.

That’s Elaine Arodnap, Max informed Ron. She was the initial victim.

The film showed Elaine standing next to the marble pedestal. The chest resting on top of the pedestal remained closed, while the lid of the chest on the ground was open.

When I first realized the nature of this discovery I was in a state of shock, Elaine related. "All I could think of was the notoriety it would bring to the team, the books and articles, the docudramas, etc., etc.

However, as time passed I began to consider the ramifications…the consequences…and I began to lose sleep. I began agonizing over the decision I made. I began asking myself if I had the right to make a decision on my own when it could, potentially, involve the population of the entire world.

"At first, as you can well imagine, I was anxious to open it. I reasoned the two chests were, by nature, opposites. It was possible the one opened previously contained the evil aspects, and the one remaining unopened contained the curative. This particular hypothesis appealed to my sense of justice, to the idea of a symmetry…a…a balance in the universe.

"Then I thought of another eventuality. Was it was possible, maybe even probable, they both contained misery? That was a favorite ploy of the gods, to jest with man, to entice him with the hope of winning while all the time the deck was stacked against him, witness Sisyphus and Tantalus for proof.

"My final decision was prompted by a look at the world around me. The roll call of miseries is extensive to say the least. How could it get any worse? Don’t you see, I had to believe it was an antidote to the ills of mankind, and not a supplement?

It’s my sincere belief I’m acting in the best interests of humanity, and not for self-aggrandizement. If the consequences of my actions prove to be beneficial, I won’t need to worry about negative feedback. However, if my actions should unleash more evil, please realize I meant well. You may condemn me for poor judgment, and you would be justified in your condemnation, but accusations of selfishness would be groundless.

Elaine turned to the unopened chest and gently lifted the lid. She then walked over to the camera and turned it off.

"What was that all about?" Ron commented with obvious irritation.

Max sat in his chair slowly shaking his head.

I’m not sure, he finally muttered. Those two boxes had some type of writing on them didn’t they?

Ron asked.

Max grabbed the remote and rewound the tape.

Yeah, they sure do. Right there, see? Max said.

Well, what does it say? Ron demanded.

Beats me, Max responded. It looks like Greek.

Well, where’s the representative from the Museum’s antiquity department? Ron thundered as he reached for the intercom and buzzed his secretary.

Barbara, where’s…oh, what’s his name…Papopolis, Keith Papopolis?

I’ll send him in as soon as I can locate him Mr. Crowder, Barbara replied courteously.

Ron stood and began pacing the room as Max continued his examination of the film.

I just remembered, Sam could read Greek, Max mused. He could read Greek, and he committed suicide after seeing this film.

Ron stopped pacing and looked at Max.

I don’t have a good feeling about this, Max confessed.

Don’t be too pessimistic Max. I know how you felt about Sam, but…oh there you are Keith, Ron said as Keith Papopolis entered the room.

What can I do for you Mr. Crowder? Keith said.

Your expertise is required Keith. Can you please translate the inscriptions shown on these two boxes? Ron asked as he pointed out the chests on the film.

Max paused the film as Keith moved closer to the screen.

Hmmm…interesting, Keith mused. May I? he said to Max as he reached for the remote.

Please, Max responded.

Keith fiddled with the image on the screen until it showed the lettering clearly.

It appears to be the same on both boxes, Keith informed Ron and Max.

Keith slowly turned, eyeing both men narrowly, his features etched with uncertainty.

Is this… Keith began, his voice laced with suspicion. Are you guys putting me on? Keith finally asked in a whisper.

Ron rounded on the younger man.

"We’ve got tens of thousands of people already dead, thousands more dying, while the potential of this epidemic is unlimited, Ron growled. Now I learn my deputy director committed suicide after viewing this very tape. No, Keith, this is certainly no joke!"

I’m sorry Mr. Crowder, Keith quickly apologized. But this is so…bizarre, I assumed…well surely you can’t blame me for…

What does it say? Max pleaded.

Keith hesitated once again before responding.

Well, roughly translated it says, ‘Property of Pandora’.

Sweet Dreams

And thus the sad Soul that here passes

Beholds it but through darkened glasses.

Edgar Allan Poe

Dream-land

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.

George Gordon, Lord Byron

Darkness

Sam Hacker exited the liquor store and made his way along the sidewalk in his usual brusque fashion. Completely disregarding the common courtesies usually afforded the opposite gender, the handicapped, and the elderly, Sam held to a straight line down the center of the sidewalk. The perversely stubborn utility pole at the intersection of Fifth and Grant proved to be the only entity capable of inducing Sam to deviate from his normal course.

Actually, Sam didn’t mind the utility pole’s intervention in his affairs, for it served as a type of bulletin board. People posted handwritten notices on the pole requesting, or offering, a wide variety of services and merchandise. Occasionally, Sam took advantage of an opportunity listed on the pole in order to earn a few extra dollars.

Cradling a bottle of gin in one hand, while rubbing the stubble on his face with the other hand, Sam glanced quickly at the notices affixed to the pole. After recognizing and disregarding the old ads, Sam’s eyes came to rest on an unfamiliar inquiry. The offer looked promising.

Person needed to help test experiment in sleeping and dreaming. Will pay in cash.

174 Grape Street

Sounds like easy money, Sam muttered as he ripped the paper from the pole and stuffed it in his pocket.

Sam stopped at his apartment only long enough to drop off his liquor store purchase. As he emerged from his apartment he adjusted the collar of his coat to ward off the icy wind coursing down the street and then hurried to 174 Grape Street. He hoped to steal a march on other applicants having designs on the position.

Sam arrived at the address listed on the notice and found it to be a small private residence. Sam fully expected the address to be a hospital, or some other type of medical establishment. He double-checked the numbers on the side of the house with those listed on the notice before he knocked. Sam was greeted at the door by a man in his late fifties dressed in a threadbare suit and scuffed shoes.

Yes, may I help you? the man asked in a thick Russian accent.

By way of response Sam held up the crumpled notice taken from the pole.

Ah, please to come in, the man offered. My name is Doctor Kovlovsky, please sit.

Sam sat in a chair near the door. Kovlovsky handed him a clipboard with a form attached.

Please fill out form, Kovlovsky requested.

Sam rapidly jotted down the information requested on the form and returned it to his host. Kovlovsky briefly examined Sam’s responses.

Sam Hacker, Kovlovsky stated. I say name correctly, yes?

Yeah, well, there’s not too many ways you can screw up that name Doc, Sam assured him.

Kovlovsky, not understanding the exact meaning of the colloquialism ‘screw up’, only smiled and nodded.

From your last name I think maybe you work with computers, yes? Kovlovsky said jokingly.

Huh? Sorry Doc, don’t know nothin’ about ’em, Sam said seriously.

I make small joke, yes?

Yeah sure, Sam mumbled, although he was not at all sure. Hey Doc, where you from anyway? You’re not from around here are ya?

Kovlovsky unconsciously adjusted his posture. He locked his knees and tossed his shoulders to the rear.

I come from Russia, Kovlovsky said with a touch of pride in his voice.

Sam stared at him in disbelief as he responded.

"You’re kiddin’? Why’d ya come all the way over here? Ain’t ya got sick people in