The Iron Man [Serial]

Kyrie

The walls seemed to sing back to me as I chanted Om. I focused on the timing of my breaths, the intake of air through the nose, the way it seemed to fill my belly, and the low exhaled syllable. Turned toward the wall, I did not see my companions, but I heard their hushed whispers.

"Who is doing that?" Prim asked.

"Jean."

I cut my chant short, but took a fresh breath and began again. Murphy wasn't only forgetting my name lately.

"He means Julien, obviously," Alpha said, tone sharp. 

I closed my eyes and focused on my chant.

My voice reverberated from the surfaces of the room.

"He's an initiate of one of those syncretic Hindu temples—"

"I just got a chill!" Thierry interrupted Alpha at a whisper. "Like hearing the Kyrie in Cathédrale Saint-Louis."

I felt someone touch fingertips to my right shoulder. I turned my head slowly and saw Alpha. He lifted a finger to his lips.

We waited. There was silence.

Alpha walked backward, eyes raised towards the ceiling, until he was about center of the room. He sang a chant: "Ký-ri-e, e-lé-i-son." It sounded Greek to me.

The room seemed to make each note live on and harmonize with the next.

Thierry grabbed my left arm and clutched at it uncomfortably. "It is like angels singing. I could drop to my knees right now."

Alpha snapped his head about to face Thierry with wide eyes.

"In a most chaste fashion, of course," Thierry whispered loosening his hold on my arm only slightly. I did not see, as he was beside me, but he must have made some facial expression that communicated the opposite were true, because Alpha smiled.

He smiled in the way he had that time I made some vulgar query and he'd corrected my Latin; like his face broke into that smile that would not be willed away.

Alpha's smile struck me as so beautiful in that moment that, even knowing it was not for me, I became momentarily dazed until he called me on it.

"Sorry," I said, realizing I was being addressed. I looked down at my arm then shrugged Thierry off. "It's not that we're so familiar, I just thought he needed to someone to ground him to keep the spirit from taking him."

At that, Thierry shook with laughter.

I wasn't sure what I was saying, between all the smiling and laughing and the realization of things that were guaranteed to make Alpha smile. The moment was awkward and becoming uncomfortable and I couldn't sassily deny I was affected by such things anymore.

"Thierry. I would speak with you outside a moment," Alpha said.

I had desires that could be aroused, or toyed with, inflamed or doused.

Thierry passed in front of me on his way to the antechamber.

It seemed natural enough, to me, for a person to have desire—vulgar, divine, or otherwise—but I suppose I was a bit cross at myself for feeling affected when there were larger and less personal issues; I took my assignment seriously.

"Julien?" Prim called.

I looked up to where Prim stood, now holding one of the induction bulbs, near David. In the periphery of my vision, I saw Murphy's back was to me as he leaned over the sarcophagus.

"Yes?" My voice was thin, so I tried again, "Yes, Prim."

He beckoned me to them with a wave of his free arm. "David's taken some photos, but we were wondering if you would make a sketch of this room."

"I'm still learning," I said, but I reached for my sketchbook.

"For practice then." Prim smiled.

David took a few backward steps so that he then stood at my left side. "A view of this wall," he said with a wide two-handed gesture to indicate the scope.

"Maybe, Howard?" Prim looked over his shoulder to where Howard was making notes in his own book.

I glanced over to watch Howard approach.

"Julien's been Alpha's student the last few months, I thought you might give him some advice."

"An artist?"

"Among other things," I said, then added, "That is, he tutors me in several subjects. Alpha believes in being like those men in Renaissance times. There's a word he uses. Polymath? To know languages, maths, sciences and arts."

Howard nodded. "May I have a look?" He extended his right hand.

I hesitated a moment in passing the book to Howard. "It's my smaller book. Some sketches from the past few days." I watched as he flipped the pages.

"You know? I was probably around your age when I first came to Egypt."

I shook my head. I knew Howard was famous for his discoveries, but I didn't know about his life before.

"Seventeen," he said. "One of my first jobs was as a draughtsman at a rock tomb cemetery at Beni Hasan, near Minya. Some well-preserved scenes of wrestlers and Asiatic travelers. The job there often involved copying the wall art, as well as being able to draft plans of the tombs. Here," he gestured to the wall, "the goal is to convey the architectural detail. Convey scale and texture."

"Alpha had me copy wall art in Pompeii."

Howard returned my sketchbook. "Here," he said, reaching then to a breast pocket, "see what you can do with this." Howard offered a silver-colored mechanical pencil.

"I can borrow it?" I took the pencil.

"Show me you can use it well and I might make it a gift."

"I'll do my best," I told him. I turned to look for a suitable place to sit in view of the wall. I saw Murphy had moved to the opposite side of the sarcophagus.

He looked back towards me with a tight smile. I suspected he might have realized himself he was having particular memory problems.

I did not know if there was something I could do to help Murphy.

But for the time being, I felt better about myself having a set task to accomplish.

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Chapter 79! The Iron Man has over 3,600 Reads now and over 600 votes. Thank you for reading!

The audio media for this chapter is a recording "Kyrie Elison". It's Christian liturgical music that goes way back and the phrase is sung in Greek. The English equivalent is the phrase: Lord, have mercy.

I wasn't entirely sure what I would write for this chapter. I've finished what I needed to write based on the last Rory Story Cubes roll. (I have a new one to post for an upcoming chapter.)  But, I still needed to wrap-up the scene from the last chapter. So, I went in with the idea of someone else knowing a chant, and I'd had Alpha admit he sings a little in Greek (after I watched a lot of Kings music videos recently), so I went with that.

But then there was this idea of the feelings and Julien not describing that well in his own first-person after-the-fact narrative. I'm not sure if I've conveyed things as well in this chapter as in some others.

But, anyway, time to move on.

The voting for The Chosen One contest Round 1 - Group 7, which The Iron Man is in, is still ongoing over at  FANTASCI