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I TURNED the zobascope to watch what was inside one last time. I looked forward to the sensation of seeing the recorded world through Valcas’ point of view again, but this time it didn’t feel like him.
A gauzy green curtain occasionally blocked the view. I wondered whether the recorder was eavesdropping. In bits and pieces, I saw a drawing room that was dimly lit by candelabras. Four majestic chairs surrounded a high-mantled fireplace. Enta and Edgar were there with Jim and Sable. Edgar was defending his position as to why he didn’t want to give Valcas the pair of visors he’d altered, the travel glasses.
“I agree that this method is a much more convenient way to travel, but it is also very dangerous. Please understand me, Sable, when I say that I worry not so much about my nephew’s motives in using the glasses as I do about the possible physical and psychological effects they will have on him.”
Sable icily looked through Edgar.
Edgar interpreted her silence as permission to continue. “It is my theory that the travel glasses will somehow alter the appearance of the wearer’s eyes.”
“I have to agree with Edgar, Madame Hall,” Enta intervened, as Edgar buckled under Sable’s unceasing stare. “A great deal of the focus would be placed on the face, the wearer’s eyes in particular, which is altogether different from and more concentrated than the normal exposure to licensed TSTA vehicles.”
Jim loudly cleared his throat. “Hrm, well, my son hasn’t been quite right since the rejection of Lucinda Pell, now has he?” With a gravelly emphasis on each syllable of the girl’s name, Jim tapped his walking stick on the stone floor that crept out from beneath the center carpeting of patched fur.
A twinge of jealousy stirred within me. Who was Lucinda Pell? Was she real or was she like Juna? I focused more intently as I turned the zobascope.
Jim looked around the room with a squint in one eye, challenging whether anyone had an opinion on the question he’d presented. Hearing nothing, Jim asked Edgar a pointed question. “Is it true that you believe that instead of using this more convenient method of travel for useful occupation, my son would be more interested in obtaining vengeance and power?”
Enta piped up again in Edgar’s defense. “I’ve always taught Master Valcas to stand up for himself, Mr. Hall.”
Sable beamed at Enta. “I’m so glad you’ve joined us for this discussion. I miss having you here. If only you had been here when Miss Pell laughed at Valcas after he revealed to her the secret of the holo-brary. I saw it with my own eyes. She was atrocious.”
Jim breathed deeply. “We of course thought we were doing him a service with those books.” His eyes were grave and sincere. “We often felt guilt at leaving him for such long periods of time. They were very expensive too.”
Enta, in a soothing voice, came to everyone’s defense. “Once Valcas learned that they were not real people, the way children on the Halls’ Earth figure out that there is no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny, he was devastated.” She smiled sadly. “I suspect that he knew that they were not real a long time before he admitted it to any of us.”
Jim sighed. “We never expected him to get so attached, so lost in them.”
Enta nodded. “The way he would go on with those characters. Once I even caught him trying to find a book with my name on it, to see if he could close it and send me away. I suppose I’d punished him a bit too sternly that day.”
“So, you see, Edgar,” Sable cut in, “Miss Pell deeply hurt him when she insulted all that was his childhood. Afterward, he dismissed Lucinda and went on a rampage to destroy the books. It’s a shame. The Pells are a fascinating and very wealthy family. The books are irreplaceable.”
At this, Jim turned to Edgar. “And so is our son. The last we saw him, he’d taken one of the Estrel-Flyers. What he said before he left still concerns me. He said not to worry about any arrangement with the Pells. He would provide his own fortune and find his own wife. I am guessing that one of the places he’s visited since then was your home, Edgar.”
Edgar straightened himself in his chair, his hands now tight fists at the ends of the armrests. “I don’t care how upset Valcas is right now or how innocent you would believe his intentions to be. Such a dangerous device given to him under these circumstances presents a more serious situation than I’d realized. I am more than relieved that he is not in possession of such a device.”
“So, then, you never altered the glasses?” Enta looked up, hopeful.
“Unfortunately, I did. But then I thought better of it afterward. I gave Valcas an unaltered pair of sunglasses that were identical in color, size and shape. The other pair is still in my workshop.”
The image went blank, as if someone had covered the lens with a hand or dark cloth. I could hear the hiss of sound still being recorded. An articulate voice audibly whispered, “This zobascope is the predecessor to Edgar’s travel glasses.”
I clutched the zobascope more tightly in hopes of hearing more. The voice was from someone who had been present at the recorded meeting, a person who remembered what had happened there and who had returned with the intention of recording this very scene. Enta.
Enta continued her whispered message. “Edgar later revealed to me that he built his set of travel glasses with the same capacity to record, but I have never been able to figure out how he did it or how it worked. The most that I’ve been able to understand from what he would agree to tell me was that the only persons able to view the recordings are the recorder himself or someone very close to the recorder, someone in tune with the feelings and perspective of the recorder. This requires a very strong connection. In Edgar’s last days I pressed him more on the topic, but his health failed before I could find out anything more. I’m so very, very sorry, Calla.”