Journal of Professor Gideon Thaddeus Greer (p.5)

April began for Gideon without much incident, rat business besides.

Lectures resumed on the third of the month, and Gideon’s return to the university had been more or less welcomed. The questions he received from colleagues as to his previous business were less so, but he humored the more invasive with answers that seemed satisfactory – he had family matters to attend to, a health concern, visits to make, the usual sort of business. The thin man now stood stoically beside the large university blackboard, observing as one of his students wrote out a requested equation and allowing the familiar scraping of chalk on slate to ease his nerves.

His hand had gotten some additional attention in conjunction with his absence, but Gideon assured the inquisitors that he had merely burned himself on a kettle some days past, but the wound was nearly healed and there was no need for undue alarm. The lie was for himself as much as to throw off suspicion; It would not do to admit a rat infestation, his pride and reputation for cleanliness still withstanding. However, the knuckle itself now itched terribly, and Gideon tried not to pay it too much mind as he observed the math on the board, checking now and again for errors. He made sure to clean it daily, scrubbing the surrounding skin until it reddened, for surely the pain of cleaning would be preferable to the shining pink ache of infection. Still, he fretted over it terribly. At times he could scarcely banish the vision of those stained and dirty yellow teeth from his mind, and alongside the dull throbbing headache that now found a permanent home between his temples, he was glad to be teaching, if only to serve as a distraction. If students noticed his lack of composure, they were respectful – or at least, taciturn – enough to keep it to themselves.

That afternoon, once the students had filed out and the room had grown quiet, Gideon was unpleasantly startled to find Joseph Williams, professor of Theology, waiting for him in the classroom doorway with a folder in his hand and a rather sour look upon his face.

“How can I help you, Williams?” Gideon asked, with enough professional courtesy to gloss over his thinly veiled irritation. The other man was uniquely suited to getting under Gideon’s skin, and the two were scarcely more than tolerant of each other at the best of times.

“I would like to have words with you, Greer,” The other man replied, adjusting his spectacles with a light huff. “About this extracurricular project of yours.” Gideon bristled slightly at the brusqueness of the question, but accompanied Williams into the hallway, walking alongside the shorter and plumper man with resignation.

“I have already told you, as well as the other staff, that this is a private matter. I have been visiting ill family besides, and-” Gideon cut off at a loud, barked laugh from his colleague, and glanced at the other man with irritation.

“Greer, you must take me for a larger fool than I assumed,” the theologian began, his eyes narrowing. “Any man worth two cents in this town could tell that you haven’t got family to visit, nor that you would do so given the chance. You’re up to something again.”

“If you are referring to the incident last year,” Gideon rebutted, subconsciously straightening his tie, “I assure you that we will reach no further compromise on the subject.” As always, he felt irritation rising like bile within him at Williams’s frank authoritarian tone, most acutely felt when the other man was correct about anything. Still, he could not let his irritation get out of hand so as to make a spectacle of himself, or to assist his opponent’s case.

“I don’t need to compromise with a madman,” Williams rumbled, his round cheeks ruddying. “If I discover that this is about that God-forsaken occult nonsense of yours again, I’ll be reporting you to the Board, and I reckon they’ll give you more than a talking to this time. And a good riddance it would be, too.”

“You are a fool, Williams. A meddlesome fool,” Gideon snapped, turning to the exit, his patience thinned far too much by his throbbing head and aching hand to do much else. The disgruntlement lingered as he packed his belongings and arranged his office, sending a haze of anger across his vision. Otherwise, that evening, he might have noticed the large, coated figure tracing his steps.

Journal of Professor Gideon Thaddeus Greer (p.4)

March 24th
1846

The last several days have yielded little data, as I have scarcely found the time to work amidst all the planning and schedule negotiations with the university. I have assured the dean by telegram and in a personal meeting that my research has not been drawing from university funds, and while I must confess that this is not entirely truthful, I have been scarce enough to avoid drawing the attentions of the grant manager. The dean seemed unconvinced by my insistence that this so-called “hobby” is worth such an extended absence from lecture, and he was unmovable in his demand that I return to my regular lecture schedule within the month. I will concede for now, though this will likely prove to slow my research.

In regards to my personal struggles, the rats have proven to be a larger nuisance than previously estimated. Prince has been indispensable in their removal, but I still continue to find droppings amongst my papers and several of my larger tomes are showing damage from what is doubtlessly the mastication of rodents. I must attempt to find their source. I suspect that perhaps a there is a flaw in the basement foundation allowing them to reach here from a larger nest, though I sincerely hope that this is not the case.

---

Gideon paused his writing at the sound of scratching in the corner, a long shudder causing a small droplet of ink to escape from his pen and blot the words on the paper below. With a soft curse, he dabbed at the stain with his handkerchief before using it to wipe at his brow. Raising from his chair, he gave a sharp whistle. The skittering of nails on cement could be heard from above, a small brown and white body hurtling down the cellar stairs. Prince wasted no time in finding the perpetrator, dispatching it with quick but noisy efficiency. As always, Gideon observed the procedure with a grim sort of satisfaction, one that was never quite enough to quell the accompanying queasiness of the act. This is why he had purchased the Jack Russel in the first place, knowing the breed’s penchant for vermin, though Prince’s companionship had so far proved to be an asset of its own sort.

Looking to the corner where the dog had dispatched the creature, Gideon pondered if perhaps he should attempt to preserve this rat for dissection. It would need to be boiled and sanitized before handling, of course, but with proper method it would be possible to investigate the creature without fear of contamination. Lost in planning, nodding somewhat resolutely, Gideon attempted to scoop up the small ragged body the dog had deposited at his feet – the body of rat that, until this moment, he had foolishly assumed to be already dead.

The mortally wounded creature squirmed madly at the pressure of his touch, quickly twisting to sink its teeth into one of Gideon’s knuckles in a final desperate escape attempt. Gideon cried out, releasing the creature. Prince immediately set upon it, instinctively thrashing it about in his jaws to break its neck.

Gideon became passively aware that his attachment to time had slowed. He watched the blood flecking his dog’s lips, heard the small bones breaking. He witnessed more than felt the blood pooling across his own knuckles, seeping from the wound. A wound, inflicted by the yellowed fangs of a rat. Gideon could already feel the pathogens, the organisms incubating within that terrible beast, burrowing beneath his skin and chewing their way into his bloodstream and crawling down his wrist like leeches. He did not realize that he was hyperventilating until he felt the landlady’s hand on his shoulder, the woman having doubtlessly been drawn by the racket. He also had not realized that he had run from the cellar, dog yapping excitedly around his feet. He stood, face white and hands quivering, blood dripping onto the stone steps beneath him from the gash that was currently burning and throbbing like it was full of coals.

Gideon was then vaguely aware that his landlady was speaking, but his hands shook and his wound throbbed and his breath dragged like soup through his lungs while the leeches crawled through his veins, and it was only when he felt a sharp slap across the face that he returned to his senses.

After spending a moment catching his breath and reassuring the small Irish woman that he had simply had a bit of a spook, glaring mildly in response to her clear look of skepticism, Gideon returned to his flat. He bound his knuckle tightly with a white cloth, determined to recover from his humiliating fit of hysteria before resuming his work for the evening. He disposed of the rat, cautiously boiled and wrapped in its customary shroud, all thoughts of dissection and preservation banished from his mind. It was no question that from this day forward, he would only be handling the dead rats’ bodies with the wrought iron coal-tongs from his fireplace.

Disinfecting and cleaning the bite wound later that eve left a sour feeling in Gideon’s stomach, but he forced himself to ignore it. Tomorrow his research resumed, and soon – very soon – he would have his Panacea. With its completion, no beast, germ or otherwise, would harm him any longer.

That night, he slept fitfully, and dreamed of burrowing creatures.

---

March 30th
1846

I write this not as a research landmark, but instead as an explanation for my languor. Tomorrow, I shall be resuming my regularly scheduled lectures at the university. As such, I have needed to prepare my scholastic materials.

Additionally, I have been keeping close eye on the status of the bite I sustained some days ago. While I attribute this to long hours of study and examination, it seems that a persistent headache has begun between my temples. I must be wary of any symptoms resembling swelling or fever. Who knows what form of pox the immigrants are carrying here, let alone the damned ship rats they brought with them.

The influx of rats has slowed, and I believe that soon, my Prince will have deterred them. I have additionally obtained poison from one of the local shops, and hope that seeding the corners with tainted bread with finish off any remaining vermin. God willing, once they have gone, I may return to my work in peace.

 

Journal of Professor Gideon Thaddeus Greer (p.3)

March 18th
1846

I received yet another distressing telegram this morning, and one that perhaps explains the prying nature of my colleagues. It seems that the chemical supplier with whom I have been communicating has inquired with the university as to my projects involving such large amounts of mercury. As such, my employer has grown curious, and has said as much to my associates. He calls my teaching hiatus “suspicious and worrisome”, and is pressuring me for a report on my independent research. Is there no longer peace for the independent man in this country?

---

Gideon set down his pen, adjusting his glasses with a frustrated sigh. His landlady had brought him the telegram this morning as he was disposing of several rat bodies, thoroughly boiled and wrapped in thick cloth to prevent the spread of pestilence. His terrier had delivered him several of their corpses the night before as well, and Gideon was greatly troubled by the number of them that seemed to remain. The look the landlady gave him was questioning as she walked away, glancing at the set of vials and books arranged on the several desks he had brought down to the cellar, but he paid her no mind. So long as she left his belongings undisturbed, their relationship need not be anything but one of business. He made note to himself to inform her of the rat problem later, as it was possible that a full infestation may inevitably trouble her other renters.

For now though, Gideon was preoccupied. The dean’s telegram was bothersome, to say the least. While scheduling a meeting with the man to explain his absence in a satisfactory manner would be prudent, Gideon felt it might be wise to be discreet over precisely the nature of his work. As a professor of mathematics, he did not feel that his university would care to fund his so-called ‘dabbling’ if it were to learn the details.

After penning a brief reply to the inquiry, Gideon returned to his work. Flipping through the pages of the aged manuscript he was using as his primary point of reference, he began laying out his tools in order of size. His current set of samples were organized by color and texture as best as he could figure given the text’s sometimes cryptic direction. With a small nod of satisfaction at his work, he began to read.

“Mix one part of gold with twelve parts of Our Water; pound them small; place them in a moderately deep jar ; set over it an alembic in the ordinary way; stop up the jar and the apertures of the alembic, up to the beak, with clay…”

---

March 20th
1846

Day ten of alchemical experimentation.
Results: Mildly conclusive.

I have made plans to meet with my employer to discuss my findings within the week. He is most curious, and feel I must find a way to satisfy his curiosity without direct allusion to my project. Despite the absurdity of such a notion, I feel my reputation serves to suffer if my project is brought to the public before completion. As all newborn sciences inevitably face challenges, my restoration of this field is equally bound to face biased scrutiny. The seemingly “occult” nature of many of alchemy’s poorly understood scientific principles are sure to draw ire from the traditional and the uninformed.

My studies into the properties of metal have continued, though it seems that most of my findings thus far have fallen well within the bounds of the ordinary. Many of the books’ diagrams feature fantastic animals, often with crude illustrations depicting them bleeding from wounds or leaking fluid of some sort. I feel that these are hints to some uniquely alchemical process involving the incorporation of biological fluids, and that my true experimentation must begin involving organic materials as well as the chemical. I have began the cultivation of several herb species, and plan to include more medicinal species once seeds can be obtained. As for beasts, perhaps one of the rats, after significant cleansing, may be of use for exploration of animal viscera. I believe that the drawings in several of my books – what appear to be dragons – are metaphorical, and that some portion of bird or reptile anatomy must be some ingredient.

I must be patient and thorough. I should not expect these secrets to yield themselves lightly.

Journal of Professor Gideon Thaddeus Greer (p.2)

March 14^th
1846

Day six of alchemical experimentation on metals.

Work is progressing slowly, but progressing nonetheless. I have obtained a decently large vial of quicksilver, purchased from a local hatter as the university’s supplier has yet to respond to my telegram. I am afraid that requests for large quantities of chemicals will not be taken without suspicion and advanced pay. Thankfully however, the studies on the materials I have at hand are going well. I have moved from more complex minerals to more basic structures, as these are sure to have more varied potential. I may perhaps even examine the local area for stones that may make suitable components. It is slow and tedious work, though one must expect such things when entering into a venture of such magnitude. I will be exploring the metals much more thoroughly once I have installed a proper distillery, as I shall be attempting to break them down into more workable solutions. This may be difficult without the assistance of lye, acid or some other strong substance, as I am sure that some of the materials will be less than ideally soluble. The idea of manipulating simple metal into more valuable substance is certainly thrilling, but I am set upon a different pursuit. My panacea, once perfected, shall rid my soul of worries regarding things as vile and putrescent as disease.

Speaking of such a vile thing sends awful shudders through me, as much as when I saw this last evening that brown rats have taken residence in my work cellar. The frightful beasts have been scattering leavings among my belongings, and some of my dustier books bear traces of footprints. I cannot abide the intrusion of such beasts, and I have since set my faithful Prince on them. I hope to dispose of the bodies in short order, as not to let their hateful carcasses infect my laboratory with smell nor any form of pox. Who knows what the wretched beings could be bringing with them, within or without. I shall certainly be placing greater care in their elimination. In fact, I may soon be able to dispose of their presence entirely.

March 17th
1846

Day eight of alchemical experimentation.

Today the landlady has brought me a most distressing telegram. It was not, as I had hoped, a response from the university’s chemical supplier. Instead, it seems that my colleagues have been inquiring as to my whereabouts, though as I have taken a hiatus from teaching most lessons for my personal research, I do not see how this should concern them. It would be most troublesome if an associate of mine – perhaps Williams – has been feeding them rumors of my work, and some in particular have been most meddlesome in the history of our colleagueship.  I find this most insulting; I steadfastly do not post inquiries to my peers’ own personal works, and I should expect the same courtesy from men who claim to serve a higher academic purpose. I suppose I should expect that men of such shallow modernity like Williams, a medical doctor, will be detrimentally critical to any method that they have not personally been able to grasp. I hope with some fervor that when my Panacea is completed, he will at least have the good grace to offer me apology for his shameless bigotry toward my scientific ideals.

Journal of Professor Gideon Thaddeus Greer (p.1)

March 7th
1846

I have decided to make use of this journal, not merely as a psychological comfort, but as a means of recording my experimental progress and findings. This will serve as both a record of current events, and as a record of my notes and scientific process for use in future generations. I myself am liable to need a point of past reference for my future works, as a man of science is bound to forget some of the smaller details in the pursuit of the larger and more profound truths.

G. Greer, Professor of Mathematics

 

March 11^th
1846

Day three of alchemical experimentation.
Results: Inconclusive.

My first and rather basic task has been to explore the alchemical properties of certain metals. I have chosen to do this based upon their chemical composition and reactions, as well as more qualitative details such as texture and smell, as these also have alchemical merits. I have found some very old and fascinating texts on the subjects of alchemical metallurgy and botanical research, written by those in a time before the widespread adoption of advanced chemistry. Nonetheless, their findings are intriguing. The segments concerning the medical application of solutions made from specific metal and plant compounds are of particular interest. My Panacea shall likely contain many such compounds, albeit in a more refined and perfected form. Unfortunately, most of the specific materials in question should prove a challenge to obtain without a proper medical license. I will be sending a query to the university’s nearest laboratory suppliers for the alembic and mercury, with the hopes of buying large quantities of the latter discreetly. The tensions further south have been complicating matters and making folks mistrustful, but I am hoping my former acquaintance with the university staff shall lend ease to the process.

My results so far have been interesting, if understandably difficult to interpret. Alchemy is a long retired science, and as such will require extra effort to decipher, at least until my own modern set of rules can be firmly established. While it serves no clear use in the manipulation of heat, I have found that quicksilver serves as a wonderful conduit for my tests involving electrical charge. I shall use these qualities to my advantage in further tests, and most particularly once I begin my work with organic compounds.

Some men will choose to argue that I am working in reverse. They claim that alchemy can and will only ever lead to the foundations of chemistry, but those men are shortsighted fools. I have seen the truth of it. Alchemy is an underrated and far more nuanced art form than has been acknowledged by modern man, with much of its potential falling outside the bounds of mundane chemical reactions. These books, written by the unbiased hands of the past, will form the foundations of my own work. I am sure that with the tools at my disposal, I can put these notes to good use.