The Alarm Clock at the End of the World

Part 76

Shortly after that.

Through the door is a massive warehouse structure, ramped down so we can see the whole pit dug into an amphitheater. A platform has been erected in the center with a ruined stone chapel atop it. The green and weatherbeaten stones raise twenty-five feet high, trimmed in gothic-style gingerbread. Arched windows filled with stained glass are carved in the walls. I can’t see far down the sides of it, but a set of spires stands at the end of the building.

 “Holy shit,” I gasp. Five lighting trees hang above the platform, their par cans are dark, all light coming from the flood lamps in the distant corners of the room. Dozens of amps and speakers are stacked at the corners of the chapel or hanging above it. 

“Did Solomon steal Rosslyn Chapel for Carmen Sandiego?” Nepotism asks.

“I’ve got a sneaking suspicion,” I confess to Goat. “That whatever we are looking for is hidden somewhere in there.”

Goat nods. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“It’s the stage!” I shout, running down the ramp. “Dude, check it out!” Guitars are on stands before a drum set. Stenciled on the double- bass drums are the Sado-Mass logo. 

“Will you get back here?” Nepotism orders, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “What if it’s a trap?”

“Trap by who?” I ask, climbing the ‘stone’ steps to the platform, finding them to be foam core. This is the backdrop for Solomon’s revelation. The Alarm Clock at the End of the World will be birthed from an exact replica of the partially-constructed Rosslyn Chapel. Kara is first to the top with me, hesitating a moment before peeking inside.

“The Rosslyn design was intentional,” Nepotism says, joining us at the top with Goat and Nigel behind him. Tyr is walking the perimeter. “It wasn’t unfinished like most scholars believe, it was a replica of Herod’s Temple smashed by the Romans. That’s where the Templars found the Ark.” We poke our heads around the foam columns in the entryway. “Did I show you the poster? I think it was in the Templars and Assassins book. The guy who wrote it was O.T.O., by the way.”

“Look at this,” I say. “Monitors, and there are speakers over there. This is it, Joshua Solomon will be standing right here.” I point out over the pit. “How many people could you fit out there. A thousand?”

“There wasn’t five hundred at the party,” Kara says.

“Where did Tyr go?” Nigel asks.

Nepotism crosses his arms and paces back and forth across the platform. “Solomon fashions himself a wizard, so we are going to need our guard up. If he does know any magick, we could be in trouble.”

Goat snorts. “You think this guy is going to cast spells?” Kara and Nigel chuckle.

Nepotism Baldwin is undeterred. “Not real magic, of course, that would be silly. This is more of a zen state of mind. Aleister Crowley taught this through meditation. Crowley was an evil fucker.”

With a crash, the lighting rigs around the ceiling light up flat white light.

“Who turned on the lights?” Nepotism asks.