And once again, her scientific curiosity betrayed her survival instinct.
Woodfork nodded, indicating her to lead the way down the stairs of Olde Main.
“Indeed. It opens a discrete in-between, which doubles back on itself, effectively folding our dimension so that a bit of the fires from near the surface of our sun come through. It draws free AE—it requires very little for ignition,” he said holding his finger up, “and so it does function outside of high-AE zones. And it attaches its position to the breath of the one holding the lighter—quite a feat of para-engineering. That was Pádraig’s project when he first arrived here. He’s been a very productive student for the Indispensable brand.”
“Indispensable makes a lot of things I’ve never heard of,” Hailey remarked as they reached the tunnels.
“Yes, well, of course it’s the University’s brand. Not much demand for it outside of the paranormal world, but our devices are wildly popular among the supernatural creatures of Earth. They sell very well in the hidden places of this world,” he said proudly. “Let’s try this one.” Professor Woodfork pointed down a dark tunnel to the right, which emitted a low, mournfully spooky cry.
Hailey peered into the darkness. “What do you think is down there?”
“Let’s find out, shall we?” He clicked on his flashlight, and Hailey blew a puff of air onto the lighter, igniting the nuclear sun-torch above her head.
Down the tunnel they went. As the moaning grew louder, it took on a more pathetic tone, like a cry for help. Soon they were right on top of the noise, but Hailey saw nothing that could be causing such a racket.
“Aha!” said Dr. Woodfork. “A moaning bookworm. Well, this isn’t normal.”
Hailey side-eyed him. Nothing about Bear Towne was normal, and she wondered if the professor knew that.
“You see,” continued the professor as Hailey squatted next to him, “he’s bookless…and it appears…” With his thumb and forefinger, the professor touched what looked like a fat inch-worm and raised a tiny object. “Yes. You see, it appears his eyeglasses are broken,” he explained, showing Hailey a teeny pair of spectacles. “We’ll get these straight over to I-MET for repair, and then we’ll bring them back along with a book.”
He handed the tiny glasses to Hailey. “Otherwise, if we were to neglect this little guy, he’d morph into a tunneling earworm—I believe you’re familiar?”
Hailey nodded.
“Yes, well, the dark tunnels are where various creatures come when they have…issues. Second-year students spend an entire semester sorting out the ones they can, and of course avoiding the ones that are too far gone.
“Those,” he said, waving his finger in the air, “are the ones that become killers.” He held up his flashlight. “They hate the light. As you can see,” he told her as he shined a light on the bookworm, “our little friend here does not shy away from the light, and so he’s still redeemable.”
“What do bookworms do?”
“Read, mostly. And drink tea.”
“Out of tiny cups?” Hailey tried to imagine it.
“Actually—and you’ll find this in the library—they can suck down a normal size cuppa in less than a second—it’s remarkable to witness. It does make them swell, though, and some of them swell to an enormous size. But, they are very gentle creatures,” he said as he started down the main corridor.
“Professor, why have I never seen any of these creatures before? I mean, do they just all live in Alaska?”
“No, in fact.” He swung his light down a side tunnel, and a trio of round eyeballs, all in a row, blinked back. He stopped. “Ah, another redeemable creature here. Those are Yeti eyes, but as you can see, they’ve lost their head.”
Hailey nodded. “Sure have.”
“Not to worry. I’ll have one of the seniors sort him out.”
“Uh-huh.” She shook the image of a hollow-eyed Yeti head from her mind.
“But,” said the Professor, “back to your question. There is an abundance of Aethereal energy at the university, hence the great concentration of Aethereal mutations, or as the unimaginative call them, monsters. They are creatures we’re not accustomed to for sure, and in most cases, nothing to fret over. But that’s not why you haven’t seen them. You recall your initiation charge, I believe it’s still delivered by a kiosk at the airport…”
Hailey hung on every word.
“Let me explain,” he said. “You see, Aethereal energy is inherently hard to fathom, hard to see, hard to remember. It’s like a dream, really. And so its creatures possess a natural sort of camouflage against the human mind. A sufficient jolt of AE removes the camouflage, so to speak.” He sniffed the air and slowed his pace. “You may see an unremarkable pile of excrement, for example, but it’s a lie. Your brain has protected you from the nonsensical. Now that your brain has been charged with AE, it will always see past the dream-state hallucination and perceive, well, this.”
He flashed his light down another tunnel and revealed a harrumphing pile of flatulating moose droppings.
“Ew.” Hailey wrinkled her nose.
“Careful,” warned the professor when a giggling pellet bounced her way.
