November 4, 188x
I turned my finished work notebook over to Father Pizzaro today. I have never seen him so furious. His face turned a livid shade of purple when he discovered I was using Malus as my calculator to demonstrate iterations up to the fourth order. Malus is fast, and we kept the same hours. I explained that he was only doing calculations, he was not aware of what they were for. Still, I got lectured on every person that had been lost to madness from persuing the Balthazarics. Perhaps time will soften his wrath. If I am very lucky, he is angry enough to send me away before the snow starts falling. I am not relishing the thought of another Babbage winter.
Builder reveals his hints in the strangest places. Maybe I should send a box of oats to Lionheart. I can’t even remember what he said, but something in his ridiculous arguements made me consider an approach to the fifth manifold that should have been completely absurd. The vision was so intense I could have kissed him. Maybe I did. Do equines eat oats and hay?
I pray that my logic is found to be without holes, and this work will put some of my demons to bed. It is good not to be thinking on it at all hours now that it is finished. The cracks in the walls are getting longer, and while walking back to my apartment this evening I saw some small impossible creature scuttling across my field of vision, not in the peripheral as it usual. It stayed low against the building, like a rat, but it did not fade as i looked fully at it. Something is wrong. I think I may have to resort to medicines until time puts my mind further away from this work.
“What are you doing, Dom?”
Lapis turned suddenly, caught in the act of going through the restricted medicinals when he thought no one would be awake. Sister Loxley stood at the door, arms crossed and ready for a confrontation.
“Supressors. You got some hidden somewhere, Lox?”
“You’re already on them,” Lox said flatly.
Loxley nodded while Lapis the truth settle in.
“Since you backhanded that green kid across the courtyard and into the wall without breaking stride in your ‘debate’ with that Lionheart. Father ordered you on them the next day, and you’ve been on them ever since.”
Lapis stared, stunned.
“All except those two weeks that Anton had the flu,” said Loxley.
“Oh.” Lapis had a sudden memory image of Brother Riddler sitting at table, jaw slack and eyes vacant.
“I didn’t know you didn’t like custards,” continued Loxley.
Lapis narrowed his eyes. “What’s my dose?
“Dose and a half. You were started at triple.”
Lapis fumed silently. Loxley, calm as ever, cut a slice of bread from the loaf and smeared a generous serving of butter on it. Then she took a jar from the back of a cabinet and spooned out a powder onto the butter, working it well into the fat before handing the snack to Lapis.
“Now be a good boy and eat your breakfast. And don’t share your puddings with anyone anymore.”
Lapis took the bread and bit into it, eyes locked with the Sister the entire time.
“Double it. I’m seeing things I shouldn’t.”
“We’ll see,” Loxley said. “Father knows best. I will discuss it with him in the morning.”