Cynthia: Magus

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DOCUMENT: CYNTHIA: MAGUS


He is coming. We heard a noise and Detective Ward went downstairs to see, though I begged him not to. There are footsteps now, coming back up the stairs. Detective Ward? Detective? Gar###


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It is his body. Detective Ward's pistol has been forced down his throat with only the very tip of the hand grip showing. Oh, God. Another good man. How many? Oh, God. I see you in the hallway, Garrett. The lights are out but I recognize your silhouette. Come in, Garrett. Come in. I know that you are not the Magician. Yes, that's right. My, you have changed. What a great, big smile you have. Do stand aside, Garrett, and let your master in. Now, you. Magician. The Great Gagasti. Come and stand before me, monster. Did you believe I would beg? Did you imagine I would ever surrender to you? I am made of sterner stuff, as is my son. I do thank you for one thing: before this I never knew for certain if Joshua had the same cold iron running through his veins. Now I know, and I die knowing that he will destroy you utterly. Do not lurk out in the hall, Magician. Come to me. Come sit by me as you have so many times before, Jeffrey. Leopold really did do his best. The paintings were a spirited attempt. Eighteen thirty-one. So many clues, and how you must have laughed. Was it merely to taunt us, or does the date have more meaning? How you grinned when you recommended a new tea set for the dining room. Gorham silver, how you insisted upon it. Gorham silver, founded in eighteen thirty-one. How you must have enjoyed offering me the use of your apartment after I was attacked by your minion, knowing that I would refuse but mentioning that I might find your pet beagle irritating should I actually accept. In eighteen thirty-one, Charles Darwin embarked on his historic voyage to the Galapagos Islands aboard the HMS Beagle. Eighteen thirty-one. So many clues. You were such a magnificent actor. Your one slip was your expression when you shot your minion. You should have looked horrified, but instead you appeared only annoyed. But it was the only blemish on an otherwise virtuoso performance. Did you insure that Independence First would send a parade of dunces to me before you swept in, guaranteeing that I would select you to be my caregiver? You were wonderful, Jeffrey. I believed in you. I###


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I am not grieving for myself. These tears are for you, Jeffrey. Not for the Great Gagasti or whatever you call yourself. These tears are for Jeffrey. I grieve for the good, kind, intelligent, educated man I knew. I pity you, Magician. You are far less than your own artifice. You have nothing to say? Very well. Sit a minute. I do appreciate you allowing me this, despite it all. Joshua, Mary... I know you will defeat him. I have not the slightest doubt. In truth, I never planned on continuing to live once I had my revenge for Scott. Oh, Scott, at least now I can be with you once again. No one made me laugh like you, my love. Mary, look after my son, now. He is rising from his chair. Very well, Jeffrey. No time to edit what I have written? Now that is cruel, you know how I prefer to have every "T" crossed and every "I" he is staring at me. His eyes are so dark. They are dark as... they are black. Even in this darkened room they are like twin ebon fires burning. The darkness... such Stygian hate, such malevolence... how could a thing such as you ever even pretend to know love? It moved. From the corner of my eye I saw it. It did it again. My finger. My index finger moved. I could not feel it but I saw it. Again. My hand twitched. My God, I can move my###


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The fingers of my hand are moving. They are... they are pulling. My hand is... dragging itself. My own right hand is pulling itself up to my face. Stop it. Make it stop. My hand is clawing, pulling at my robe up my chest. Burn in Hell. Burn in Hell, monster. My fingers are pawing at my chin, trying to climb up on my face and into my###


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He smiles that smile. Damn you forever. Kill him. Kill him. My own hand crawling###


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Fingers in my mouth. I###


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I###


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Cynthia: Praenuntius

Doctor, the date of the first performance of the "rabbit out of a hat" trick is of import. The reproductions that Leopold gave as an anniversary present last year were all originally painted in the year eighteen thirty-one A.D.

If I had to speculate, I would say that it was Leopold's way of attempting to subtly divulge a clue as to the Magician's identity without giving himself away.

Since Leopold's passing, I have devoted hours to considering what meaning there might be behind the paintings' subject matter, but all this time it was in fact the date of their creation that was significant.

Cynthia: Sodalitas

Detective Ward and I shared a quiet dinner tonight while Garrett lurked about somewhere downstairs, and despite the fact that there is a reasonable chance that one of the two men is, in actuality, the Magician, I have grown so accustomed to the possibility or even probability of my own demise by his hand, that I was able to block the thought out completely and enjoy myself. Since Jeffrey's incarceration I must confess that I have been dreadfully starved for pleasant company, much less an actual, well-considered conversation.

I continue to employ a security guard to watch over my home despite the fact that I have no illusions as to his ability to actually protect me from our foes, and I suppose I do so merely to keep Garrett in check in the event that he proves himself to be nothing more than a brute, and not the Magician. Women in my condition have been known to be abused and worse under the supposed "care" of their own assistants, and the thought of being victimized by a perfectly ordinary and commonplace thug whilst all around us our supremely powerful enemies plot against us is particularly mortifying.

Regardless, as Sun-Tsu once remarked, "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer".


It was very, very good to read that you both reached Japan safely. As an aside, I have wondered lately if perhaps the "G.G." on the knife's hilt could in fact refer to two people? Perhaps two individuals serve to carry out the duties of the Magician? Inquire as to the first names of Yoshida's uncles next time it is convenient just to be certain.

Cynthia: Cesso, Pergo

It has now been over twenty four hours since their last post. Doctor Yoshida, contact your uncles and determine if any mayday was transmitted from the Dial Up's general location, if you please.

If it was not, then I believe it is time to risk alerting the authorities that the Dial Up is lost at sea. Make no mention of Joshua's or Mary's names. Thank you.

Cynthia: Cesso

It has been more than three hours since your last post. If you can read this and are able to respond, please post an update with your condition as soon as possible.

Cynthia: Auxilium

Joshua, Mary, never mind the artifacts. Call for help on the radio. If you can still read this, send out an S.O.S. before you secure the items.

Cynthia: Fortuna

All is well here. My efforts these past few days have been spent on attempting to place legal pressure on the Department of Homeland Security to release Jeffrey from his detention, and I believe I may be making some headway, though only time will tell. It is my opinion that the incoming regime change in the Presidency has made them more hesitant to invoke powers they may soon no longer possess.

I also decided that while my experiments to determine whether or not my caretaker Garrett is in fact the Magician have come to naught, there is yet another man with a "G" name here in Milwaukee- Detective Gary Ward- whom I at the very least wished to look in the eye to determine if any information could be gleaned from mere contact.

Under the pretence of desiring to discuss pertinent details of the Walentowicz murder, I invited Detective Ward to my home and offered him some tea while we discussed the case. While the investigation has been taken out of his hands by the Federal Bureau of Investigation, it was obvious that the grisly nature of the killing had affected him deeply, and it appeared to me that he wanted to talk about it just to unburden himself of the awful memories.

Detective Ward reminded me a little of poor Agent Pierce, a dogged investigator, world-weary and in over his head. Is he the Magician in disguise? After spending the better part of an hour conversing with the man, I must confess that I still have no idea. I have invited him back tomorrow night just for tea. If he is the Magician, he can kill me at any time anyway, it seems. If he is not, then I will enjoy the pleasure of his company, resigned to whatever fate has in store.

Cynthia: Amor

Mary, don't be ridiculous. You have nothing whatsoever to be sorry for.

Do I strike you as a particularly frivolous or flighty woman? My dear, my late husband collected Ford Mustangs, of all things. When Scott and I were given the gift of three nineteenth-century reproductions by Leopold as an anniversary gift last year, my husband thought it would be a good idea to hang framed prints of comic book covers next to them.

In other words, there is no woman on Earth who can comprehend and sympathize with your plight better than I. The heart wants what it wants.

Don't imagine you can change him overmuch, give him a single room in the house to keep however he likes and may God have mercy on your soul.

Cynthia: Ligatio

The agents of Homeland Security were unimpressed with my counterfeit act of compliance. Jeffrey remains incarcerated. I do not know what else I can do to free him, and feel more helpless than ever on the matter.

With all of the events pointing firmly towards Japan, I am considering hiring a private jet and flying there to join you despite the obvious risks. I simply feel that whatever resolution is going to come will come there, and soon.

Cynthia: Singulus

Leopold remarked in his post:

"It is quite probably too late to stop the charms, but the knife and his blood may yet be within your grasp. Keep them separate..."

Now that we possess the items, I am uneasy keeping them together against Leopold's advice, yet I am apprehensive to have them shipped elsewhere individually. Is there another option?


On another matter, I had a notion to contact the agents from Homeland Security that are holding Jeffrey and inform them as to your general whereabouts, Joshua and Miss Stroud. It is possible that they have not received the information from the Australian authorities as of yet, and they may believe that I am being genuinely cooperative and release Jeffrey in turn. It seems to me that we would lose nothing since they will be apprised soon enough as to your location at any rate, if they have not been already.

I leave it in your hands, however. Do contact me with your decision as swiftly as possible.

Cynthia: Forceps

My plan to bite Garrett and draw blood has come to naught. When I feigned choking, he calmly took his time fetching a pair of forceps and a tongue depressor, at no time placing his fingers in my mouth. Had I actually been gagging I certainly would have been dead by the time he completed the procedure.

I actually hope that he is the Magician. To despise an ordinary man with this much vigor seems ignoble.

Cynthia: Minuo

Thank you again, Doctor. Your remarks were just the motivation I required to devise a suitable plan of action that would enable me to determine which of our suspects is the villain.

Without delay I phoned Doctor Godfrey and relayed my deep concern and apprehension that the assault on my person by the Aborigine Smiler (not conveyed in these terms, obviously) had in some way infected me with any of a number of blood-borne diseases, as I had been, in essence, showered with gore when Jeffrey shot him. The Doctor did his best to mollify me, but I made it clear that I would not be satisfied until he had run a complete blood-test on me.

Adjusting his schedule accordingly, Doctor Godfrey paid a visit to my home, and I insisted that both Garrett be present as well as my newly-hired security guard, should there be any trouble. I then set my computer to type and transmit all that I said in the event that the Magician, upon his unmasking, simply decided to eliminate me then and there- at the very least the three of you would be aware of his true identity.

As the Doctor prepared to insert the needle in my arm, I feigned an episode, where I claimed that the attempt to murder me and the subsequent grisly aftermath had left me scarred and terrified, and while I desired nothing more than to be certain that my blood was unpolluted, the act of penetrating my flesh with a needle was anathema to me.

As I expected, neither the icy Doctor Godfrey nor the dour Garrett reacted or cared much about my fictitious predicament, so I sweetened the pot, offering them each ten thousand dollars on the spot if they would only draw their own blood first, reassuring me that the process was indeed harmless.

The Doctor attempted to console me, telling me that the procedure could not be safer or more commonplace- and in any rate I would obviously feel nothing- but I refused to be accommodated, building upon my depiction of the neurotic patient and upping my offer to twenty thousand dollars. The Doctor hesitated, then finally agreed with an avaricious grin. Rolling up his sleeve, he turned the syringe upon himself and drew a small amount of blood, thereby unwittingly crossing himself off our list of suspects.

I pressed Garrett then, but he appeared repulsed by the entire proceeding. Shaking his head and cursing that he wanted no part of it, he stalked from the room.

Informing the Doctor that I no longer wished to go through with the procedure, I used my teeth to write him his check and to his consternation notified him that he was fired.

One down, three to go, and I believe I will take you up on one piece of advice, Doctor Yoshida: tomorrow I will give the appearance of choking, and when Garrett goes to clear my windpipe, I intend to bite him.

Cynthia: Nullus

Thank you, Doctor, but when my plans begin to revolve around randomly stabbing passing acquaintances, it will be time to bring this investigation to a close. Can we not formulate a more sensible, civilized and sane stratagem that won't involve assaulting innocent people?

Cynthia: Littera

While the two of you luxuriate in your well-earned rest, perhaps Doctor Yoshida and I can ponder this clue as to the identity of our adversary. While it is entirely possible that the Magician- or "G.G." as the letters carved into his knife inform us are his initials- is completely unknown to us, I believe we will be best served by forming the assumption that he has in some fashion had contact with us, however briefly.

And so the list of those with whom we have been presented over the course of our investigation, and the admittedly wildly subjectively deduced probability that they are secretly the Magician:


-Garrett, my new caretaker. Since the authorities arrested and detained Jeffrey, my first caretaker, his replacement has proven himself to be an uncaring lout, without any interest in human interaction with me of any kind beyond the obligation of his profession. I understand all too well that caring for a quadriplegic can be a tedious and degrading assignment, but he truly does appear to gaze upon me as simply a slab of flesh that is being kept alive for no discernible reason.

For all that, while I detest him, I find myself crossing him off of the list of suspects simply because he is so thuggish. I tend to consider the Magician- while existing as a creature of staggering malevolence- to be more refined in his countenance. However, perhaps knowing this, he would present a more brutish face in an attempt to play on my expectations.

-Doctor Godsby, my physician. I have only written about the Doctor in passing, and in truth I barely know the man, but on my list of suspects I believe he should be at the very apex. Smooth, refined, exceedingly cold and brusque... he is most as I would imagine the Magician to be.

-Glen, owner of the shipping boat, the Liberator. (Miss Stroud, an update on his last name, if you please, at your convenience) While the description given of the man made it seem as though he was incapable of plotting even the most basic of schemes, again as with Garrett this could well have been the Magician praying on our assumptions of his natural disposition.


And allow me to relate on a personal note that I have never been more proud of you, Joshua, nor you, Miss Stroud. This last exploit in Australia was an enormous victory for us, and while I remain more committed than ever to our enterprise, if nothing else comes of this investigation, I can rest knowing that some measure of revenge has been meted out to our enemies.

Cynthia: Erro

Joshua, your recent post describing your encounter on Wardang Island evoked memories from an earlier confrontation. When I was assaulted by one of the Smiling men the night of Agent Pierce's demise, I had at the time identified my assailant as a black man. The room was darkened and the circumstances did not easily permit a close inspection of the attacker, but in retrospect I believe that the "Smiler" that invaded my sanctum was not in fact African-American, but was instead of Aboriginal descent.

I had assumed that it was Mr. Hollis that sent his minion to murder me, but now it appears that it was Mr. Crayton. At one time I had at least subconsciously considered all of those who had dealt with the Magician as cut from the same cloth, but the fact is that they have all proven themselves to be quite distinct from one another. I can think of no practical use for the knowledge, but wished to put down the correction immediately for the sake of completeness.

Cynthia: Indicium

I, of course, pass along my condolences for those lost in the dive for the Liberator. When time permits please do forward any information regarding funeral arrangements and next of kin, as I wish to see that their expenses are paid and their loved ones recompensed.

On a practical note, Joshua, do you still possess the Swiss army knife you took from Crayton? Perhaps it might contain some physical evidence to be used as proof? Also, did you by chance happen to maintain your grip on his identification during your encounter?

My thoughts are with you, and with those whose lives have been forfeit in our investigation.

Cynthia: Despero

They took Jeffrey.

Agents from the Department of Homeland Security entered my home today and essentially abducted Jeffrey, saying they were detaining him on matters of national security. Apparently since Agent Pierce's passing his superiors took a harder look at his investigations and discovered Doctor Shigekazu Yoshida's work in adapting the Rabbit Calicivirus to affect humans. While it would appear to be patently obvious to even the most rudimentary student of forensics that Jeffrey shot the intruder and saved my life, these new agents are intimating that Jeffrey murdered Agent Pierce then used his gun to kill the other man.

It is my impression that they are using Jeffrey to force me to giveaway Joshua's whereabouts, informing on him for what they believe to be his involvement with the gruesome events in Atlanta. As I will never do this, I fear greatly for Jeffrey's safety and future. As he was dragged away in handcuffs, Jeffrey told me not to worry and put on his bravest face, which for me made the situation all the worse. Better if he had cursed my name and told the agents everything, though I suppose as the interrogations drag on he may yet do so.

I would hire the finest lawyers for him, but he has not been charged with a crime. I would pay any bail, but none has been set. He is merely being "detained", and they can keep him for months or years without recourse.

At the very least the agents realized that I could not reasonably be left without a caretaker, so Independence First immediately dispatched a new assistant. As there was no time to go through an interview process I was forced to accept their selection, a man named Garrett whom I find utterly distasteful. He is a surly, brick-shaped brute who makes no attempt to disguise his view that I am merely a slab of meat to be maintained and nothing else. When I call for him I see nothing but contempt for me in his eyes.

How much else can be taken from me? How much more must I be forced to endure? It is not in my nature to surrender, but dear God, how much more?

Cynthia: Tutela

Following the assault upon my home, I have procured the services of a security firm and have hopefully been forthcoming enough regarding the extreme danger their guards will be in while in my presence. I debated granting access to this archive to the men assigned to me, but have decided against it, hoping that the fact that an agent of Homeland Security was murdered in my very bedroom will serve as warning enough as to the severity of the peril they face.

Thus far their staff has performed admirably, working in eight hour shifts and rotating different guards in and out. Frankly, other than the original introductions to the individual security personnel, I have no contact with them whatsoever.

I offered to allow Jeffrey some well-earned time away, but even after our horrific ordeal of the other night he refused. I must say that while I would not have blamed him for taking a leave, his loss would have been most keenly felt. Even before he saved my life by shooting the intruder Jeffrey felt like family to me, and with Joshua unable to come home the thought of interacting with another caregiver was a lonely one indeed.

My physician on call, Doctor Godsby, paid a visit after the attack, examining my body thoroughly for any injuries received during the incident. Apparently my sternum is deeply bruised from where the smiling gentleman leaned on my chest, but there is no structural damage and the only advantage of being paralyzed from the neck down is that any minor bodily injuries are easily ignored. While I would not question the Doctor's competence I do find him to be cold and generally disagreeable, and I have instructed Jeffrey to begin making inquiries as to a suitable replacement for him.

Miss Stroud, I do hope that you and Joshua act with the utmost care while overseas. If the Liberator is indeed headed for Wardang Island you must assume that the entire area is now or soon will be under surveillance by the enemy.

Cynthia: Placet

Agreed.

Cynthia: Iocus

When I read that date, I literally thought it a joke on Taras' part. The correct date of U.S. Independence is, of course, 1784 A.D.

It occurs to me that all these altered dates mark the rise or fall of some of the world's greatest empires, though what that means as pertains to us, either theoretically or practically, I cannot fathom.