The Alpha and Omega Device

by James Finn

Table of Contents
Part 1 appears
in this issue.

conclusion

Leonard raised questioning eyebrows. “The alchemist lived inside a busy town, very populated with people coming from all over to trade. He happened to be seated in his study at his desk, on the upper floor, staring out of the window at the crowds below. The device sat on a small table which was not too far from the window. And it was there as he was looking, that the device’s ticking waxed and waned without any particular pattern. Until...” Peter raised a finger for emphasis, “until a young boy carrying wood stopped and stood beneath the alchemist’s window. Then, the device’s ticking changed, but remained changed, it suddenly had a constant rhythm. The ticking was as though it were in the room with him and that’s how it stayed. But when the young boy started off again the ticking instantly began to wane. The boy hadn’t gotten far before he was run down by a fast moving passenger carriage. Killed instantly. That was when the answer struck him, just as the coach had struck the unfortunate boy.

“Death wasn’t being controlled: focused in one place. The device was picking up death’s signal from everybody else, just as it had from the boy. So the alchemist began building it a body, something to live in, for want of a better word; to concentrate on only one individual: the person who wound it.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t explain how the device, or clock, can prevent death itself from happening,” Leonard noted.

“When the alchemist initially thought about making the device, he came up with the theory that if a person could prevent their death from being, then any infirmity, illness, or disease would be wiped out and their life would begin over. Though not in the literal meaning, not rebirth or anything like that, but that the person would yet live again the same number of years as he or she were originally ordained with. And that the disease or illness that they suffered before, they would most likely suffer again, but in the further years ahead. And as long as they kept on catching death just in time, they will keep on living. Become, in a way, immortal.”

“But how does it stop death? And why did Schrader sell the clock to you in the first place? Obviously he had stopped death before it had a chance of stopping him. And he also had the chance of a so-called immortality.”

“Yes he did. But that I will explain soon enough;’ first allow me to finish the story of the alchemist. What the alchemist built was a box, with mounts inside to support the device, and a small hole to wind it with the key, much the same as William. And where you now see a clock face, he just had a collection of small holes to allow the ticking to travel, to be heard. Once it was completed, with the device securely fixed inside, he then wound it and immediately the clock became regulated. The ticking wasn’t far nor near, but just a normal ticking. Like that from any clock you would hear nowadays.

“And do you know that the device ticked like that for a further twenty-three years; with no change at all. Until one day, that is, when he was working at his desk — the device now sitting high up on a shelf — the ticking suddenly changed. It became far off, distant, as though he was hearing it from across the street.

“It probably would have been fair to say that the alchemist almost dropped dead there and then from fright. As you can possibly imagine, for over twenty years nothing but its constant regular ticking, then, to announce itself just like that, well, it’s enough to give anyone a sudden fright.

“So, the alchemist waited in what could only have been an agonizing crawl of time. Waiting till death was imminent.”

“So you’re saying that you cannot stop death at any time from when it first announces itself?” Leonard asked.

“No. You have to wait until the seventh day before you yourself can intervene, and only then, at the precise moment of its arrival.

“The alchemist remained behind closed doors and inside his quarters for the following six days, not daring to leave his home, for anything. Though it was the sixth night that left the alchemist feeling a little uneasy. And it’s probably safe to say that he slept very little throughout the entire ordeal. Not surprising really, knowing that old Grim was on his way to yank the soul from his very flesh.

“When the light of dawn first began peering over the horizon the alchemist was up and next to the device, listening intently for the exact moment to strike himself. And there he was all day long, next to the device, listening, hearing death getting closer and closer. It was nightfall by the time the Grim Reaper arrived, so as you can imagine, that day felt longer than the week, longer than his life. And when death came it announced its arrival with a metallic ting in with the ticking. That was when the alchemist —”

There was a sudden knock at the office door. And the head of an attractive receptionist peered in. “Going out to lunch now, Mr Harris. Is there anything you will be needing while I’m gone or anything you would like, some more coffee?”

“Would you like another coffee, Mr Foster?”

Leonard noticed that he hadn’t touched his coffee. “No thank you, I still have some left.” He picked up his cup and took a large gulp and grimaced: cold.

“No thank you, Jodie.”

“I’ve directed all calls directly through to your phone,” she informed.

“That’s fine. Enjoy your lunch.” With that Jodie disappeared. “Sorry about that, Mr Foster. Great girl is Jodie; worked for me for many years. Oh yes, as I was saying, the alchemist stopped death from stopping him. And went on to —”

“Yes,” Leonard interrupted, clearly irritated, “but how —”

It was Peter’s turn to interrupt, and he did it with a simple raised hand. Leonard resigned to listen, leaned back further in his seat in a defeated slouch.

“And went on to relive his life again... and again. Until somebody broke into his house and stole the Alpha and Omega device, that is. He had moved by this time, as you can well imagine; moving with the times and quite literally. I suppose it wasn’t good for the image in them times to live and live beyond expectancy, it would have raised a few eyebrows and pitch forks and lit a few torches.

“The alchemist had been sixty-six for the third time when the transgression occurred. And only one year away from death’s return visit. The alchemist enquired all over and had even put up a healthy reward, but the device was never returned nor found.

“After that nobody knows about its history; it becomes a little shallow, except for when my great-grandfather came across it down in the cellar. But I’m betting that it passed through various hands on its way before it found itself down there. Otherwise how else would it have been modified to being a clock?

“It must have been terrible for the alchemist before death eventually claimed his forlorn soul. Knowing that it was coming for him; the exact day and time; I suppose it must have felt like waiting on death row, only this time with no more pardons.”

Peter opened one of the draws in his desk and took out a brass key and placed it on the centre of the desk. Leonard’s gaze followed it.

“Which now brings me to my final story. Mr Albert Schrader. Albert like the alchemist, also wanted a taste of immortality, so to speak. He took the clock everywhere with him; listening out for death’s approach. It had become a bit of an obsession. And he had been unpleasantly surprised one day by its distant footsteps working themselves through the ticking gears. He was surprised because he was only forty-two. And I suppose he rightfully expected at least another twenty to thirty years; especially as he was married with three children: two girls and a boy. So, like the alchemist, he, too, waited, sweating out what was meant to be his last days on earth, and when it came, he too, like the alchemist, stopped it.”

“Yes, Mr Harris, this you keep on saying, but how do you stop death?” Leonard’s patience worn down somewhat.

“That is what I am getting to if you would do me the honour of being patient, please!”

Leonard raised both hands in a gesture that he would no longer interrupt.

“As I was saying, Albert had extended his life by another forty-two years. But as he was doing so, his family were being completely wiped out in a horrendous car crash. A crash he was meant to be in, instead of sitting at home next to the clock.

“Though don’t get me wrong, death would have come for him just the same, even though he wasn’t with his family, because it was his time you see, just as it was theirs.

“Shortly after, I purchased the clock from him. Albert himself saying that the clock had only brought him misery, a constant apprehension, but worse of all, a loneliness and loss he would have never had to experience. He said in a way it did take away his life — the important part that is — it took his family and in return it brought him more years of misery in exchange more time to grieve and suffer his loss and selfishness. That nothing is really to be gained through earthly immortality, and that death can only be shunned for so long.

“When I received the device, I had to give it another body, as Albert never restored it after stopping death. All there was, was what my great-grandfather William found: a face and gears and cogs, no body. Though I had one made by a proper craftsman; that’s why its in such good condition. And the key hasn’t been turned since Albert, either.”

Leonard leaned forward expectantly, a large grin spreading across his face. “So, you have to remove the body, of course. Stop death from focusing directly on the person,” he stated, more to himself than to the antiques dealer.

Reaching over and picking up the brass key, Leonard stood up and walked over to the tick-less clock on the mantel.

“So, I gather you have no immediate family,” asked Peter, “no loved ones? Children whom you do not wish to see go before you?”

“No. Never have been one for settling down and starting a family. As for relatives, it’s only a matter of time before they pass on anyhow.”

“I take it you’re interested in purchasing the clock then?” Peter asked.

“And having a chance of immortality? Consider it sold, Mr Harris.”

“Then it’s a deal. When Jodie returns, I shall have her to go through the relevant paper work and the clock will be yours.”

Leonard stared at the clock, with his grin seemingly fixed to his face. Turning it round he saw the small circular keyhole in the smooth newly polished oak wood. Slotting the key into place, he turned it five complete turns and set in back on the mantel. The ticking sounded fluid, intimate, loud.

“Sounds peculiar...” Leonard’s face instantly paled.

“Sounds like today, Mr Foster, sounds close.”

“Remove the body right, redirect death?” Leonard’s voice was low but desperate.

“Not to stop death you don’t.”

“Then how?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you said Albert removed the body when he stopped death.”

“Albert removed the body after stopping death. He didn’t want anyone else using the device, that is why he never told me how to stop death. But you were impatient. Besides, it is not the clock that has brought you death; it’s just your time. You just happen to when your time is.”

“You must tell me how to stop it, quick! Tell me how to get hold of him, you said he was still alive!”

“That might a little prove tricky.”

“Why?” Tears were now streaming down Leonard’s face, as he stared at the ticking clock.

Peter put two fingers to his head and cocked his thumb. “Pow! He blew his brains out the day after he sold it to me, but miraculously survived. Though he’s critically ill. The one true terror of the clock is knowing your time: ignorance is bliss, even though it means being blinded of the future.”

“Tell me what hospital’s he’s in. I must see him!”

“Solihull, in the intensive care unit.”

Leonard left with the clock under his arm. Peter did not stop him; he remained in his seat with a pensive look on his face. He felt sorry for Mr Foster, and even more so when he heard the impact beyond his office window and the screams of the onlookers. So tragic.

Peter crossed himself and looked at his watch: it was five after one.