The Magnus Archives - MAG 92 - Nothing Beside Remains
Episode Date: February 8, 2018#0172804-BStatement of Barnabas Bennett, as given in a short letter to Jonah Magnus. April 9th 1824.Content Warnings for this episode are at the end of the show notes.Thanks to this week's Patrons: Br...ian Karas, Brittany Shaw, Katharina, Laura Hill, Patrick Schneeweis, Mary S, David Hicks, Jeremy McQuadie, Muriel Roussillon, Luke Alexander and Bertram MortonIf you'd like to support us, head to www.patreon.com/rustyquillEdited by Elizabeth Moffatt, Brock Winstead & Alexander J Newall.Sound effects for this episode provided by mefrancis13, jrssandoval, SpliceSound, theshuggie, EskimoNeil & previously credited artists via freesound.org.Check out our merchandise at https://www.redbubble.com/people/rustyquill/collections/708982-the-magnus-archives-s1You can subscribe to this podcast using your podcast software of choice, or by visiting www.rustyquill.com/subscribe.Please rate and review on your software of choice, it really helps us to spread the podcast to new listeners, so share the fear.Content Warning for:IsolationPolice BrutalityGun Violence Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
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Rusty Quill Presents The Magnus Archives
Episode 92
Nothing Beside Remains remains. 999, what's your emergency?
Police, please.
Hello? Yes, please. Hello?
Yes, I'm calling to report a crime in progress.
Sir, are you in any immediate personal danger?
Uh, yes. Not immediately, but I will be shortly.
Sir, where are you calling from?
Could I speak to your chief inspector, please?
Tell her Elias Bouchard is calling.
Of the Magnus Institute.
Oh, uh...
Sure. Thank you.
Chief Inspector Calgary.
Ah, yes. Good afternoon.
Sorry to bother you. I believe you're looking for
Detective Alice Tonner. Do you know where she is?
I do, yes. She should be
here in about 15 minutes.
I'll send some officers over immediately. That should be here in about 15 minutes.
That will be wonderful. Much appreciated.
Statement of Barnabas Bennett, as given in a short letter to Jonah Magnus.
April 9th, 1824.
My dear Jonah, you must help me.
If anyone is still here, it is you.
I know your work brings you into contact with all sorts of fantastical terrors,
so perhaps you might have it within your power to save me from this place.
And it was you who warned me not to cross Mordechai Lucas.
Advice that I have, I'm afraid, disregarded.
It was a small enough thing, as I believed, a trifling debt I fell behind on,
and when he met me in that garden, quiet as it is always with him, he demanded repayment.
Well, I took it poorly, and laughed at his insistence.
Bring it before the courts, I told him.
After all, what judge would find in his favour over mine?
He simply regarded me silently for many minutes,
staring with such a cast to his face that I could feel my resolution beginning to falter.
You shall pay me, he said at last, in kind.
Then he walked away.
Let me tell you, Jonah, I believed myself profoundly lucky that day as my handsome deposited me on the steps of my townhouse,
a mood only slightly shaken by the impression that, as the cat pulled away, it seemed to have no drive that I could discern.
I am lucky, Jonah, but only in so far as that I never married, never fathered children, never let
anyone get closer than my brother. The pangs of loneliness I feel are no more acute than my general
longing for the company of my fellow man. I have no one whose absence
truly pains me. And yet here, in this empty world, I cannot but spend these nights, these dreadful
silent nights, huddled and frozen in some terrible fear I find myself unable to name.
I almost think I hear the mocking joy of my friends, but there is nobody here, and
never shall be again. I try to read, to lose myself in something that is not the absence
of humanity. How is it that the books speak to me of my isolation more acutely than the silence?
For every treatise I read on this world and its workings, the more I know I am to spend my time
left in it without comfort or reprieve. With every tale of love or society I feel more keenly the
absence of both.
I went to Egypt once with the Royal Society, to the Temple of Ramses II in Abu Simbel.
The place was remarkable, of course, but what sticks so keenly in my mind is the journey.
Two days earlier, on the road from Aswan, I found myself separated from my fellow travellers.
I do not know how it happened, but I spent two hours alone there, under the blazing sun, staring across the vast, empty expanses of that ancient country.
I reveled in the silence then, embraced the loneliness like an old friend.
But now that friend has devoured me, and I shall not emerge from its jaws.
Not without your help.
And you must help me, Jonah.
If anyone knows of what might break me from this dreadful place, it is you.
I know that what is done by those I cannot see might be felt here.
I have found glasses broken and pages torn that were not so the night before.
It is my hope that if I leave a letter here in your institute, you might find it.
You might be able to save me.
I have no other hope.
Please, Jonah, if you have any compassion within your heart, you will not leave me in this place.
Your loyal servant, Barnabas.
Jonah Magnus did leave him in that place, John.
He got the letter, oh yes, and was on good terms with Mordecai Lucas.
He could have interceded, perhaps even saved him, but he did not. And it was not out of malice, or because
he lacked affection for Barnabas Bennett, he retrieved those bones sadly enough when the time
came. Bones that you can still find in my office, if you know where to look. No, it was because he
was curious, because he had to know, to watch and see it all. That's what this place is, John,
never forget it. You may believe yourself to have friends, to have confidants,
but in the end, all they are is something for you to watch, to know, and ultimately to discard.
This, at least, Gertrude understood.
Let us begin.
Sorry to interrupt. John's here.
And he seems angry. Sorry to interrupt. John's here.
And he's... Well, he seems angry.
I actually think he's brought a...
Bouchard.
Easy.
Hello, Elias.
Goodness, John.
Whatever happened to your hand?
And your neck?
That one was me.
You look a mess.
I've had a hell of a week.
Martin, would you be so good as to fetch Melanie and Tim?
I think it would be worth their time to be here.
Right.
Okay, I'll just...
What, go then?
Okay, let's do this.
John, do you want to get this on tape?
No need, Basira.
I've already got one running.
Now, you have something to ask me?
Go for it before I strangle the grinning bastard.
Elias, did you kill Gertrude Robinson and Leitner?
That's quite nice, actually. Tingly, but sort of freeing.
You know, even Gertrude never properly tried to compel me. I always wondered...
Just answer the question. Oh, don't.
Oh, no need to worry about that. I just feel it's only fair to wait for your colleagues, John. They'll want to hear this too.
It's also very important to me, in a personal capacity, that you understand I'm answering you of my own free will.
I don't care!
I know, but I do.
There's so much of this place and of ourselves twisted by forces far beyond us.
I just wanted you to know.
Okay, okay, so I've got everyone, but I'm honestly kind of lost as to what's happening.
Oh, Christ, what is it now?
Yes, same question, please.
Elias here is about to confess his crimes.
What?
Oh, Good.
Is that like a... Yes, I was just saying to John,
it's very important to me that you understand
that no action I have taken has been controlled.
I have done everything because I wished to.
Get to the point.
Of course, detective.
So, for the avoidance of any doubt,
I killed Gertrude Robinson because she intended to destroy the archives,
and I killed Jurgen Leitner because he was an unnecessary complication,
likely to tell John too much too early.
Bloody hell!
Oh, no.
Sorry, sorry, sorry.
That guy was Jurgen Leitner?
It was.
Daisy, where do I know that name from?
Oh, the Yusuf case, an introduction to higher anatomy.
Oh.
Oh, God.
And you killed him.
You sure shouldn't be giving him a medal.
Very sure.
And Sasha?
Did you kill her too?
Sasha died almost a year ago, Martin.
What? Oh, Martin. What?
Oh, God.
When Prentiss attacked something else, it...
It replaced her.
I still don't know how, but...
God damn it, this is...
It wasn't Sasha.
He's right, Martin.
The thing you remember as Sasha was nothing like her.
It toyed with your memory.
If I showed you a picture of the real Sasha now,
you'd have no idea who it was.
So that thing we saw? Precisely.
It finally tried to kill
John, then Leitner killed it,
then I killed Leitner, and I believe that brings us
up to date, more or less.
What about Michael? What about him?
An irritant, interfering because he's bored
and he resents us. He has no purpose. Right.
That's enough for me. You can get it on tape. has no purpose. Right, that's enough for me.
You can get it on tape.
Everyone get back.
What?
Daisy, wait.
Out the way.
Now, hang on.
I thought you were about to arrest me. Get out the way.
John, do something!
Don't.
Excuse me.
Yes? Elias, there's some police officers here to see me. Yes?
Elias, there's some police officers here to see you.
Ah, yes. Thank you, Rosie.
Could you ask them to wait a minute or two?
Yep, will do.
There. That should make it even easier for you, my detective.
I know you were planning to kill me, but surely an arrest is a consolation prize.
Daisy?
Oh, didn't she tell you why she hadn't gone back to the station?
Allow me.
She rightly suspected that I held evidence of various murders she had committed,
and that I sent this to her superiors.
She's quite the killer, your partner.
All in the public good, of course.
And she was correct.
I spent some time acquiring that evidence, or creating
it. And while your superiors don't much care about the killings, the fact there is proof,
they're not happy. And they want you brought in.
So I kill you and go to jail. I'll take that deal.
For someone who used to be a detective, you're remarkably reluctant to think things through.
You think you're the only police officer eager to do violence and call it justice?
No. There are plenty of other
rabid dogs out there, mad with
the hunt, and some of them have signed a
Section 31.
There are plenty of others your superiors can call on
to clean up this mess.
They wouldn't. Yeah, they would.
And anyone close enough to be implicated,
they will kill Basira.
Okay, wait, wait, wait.
That's the police that you're talking about, okay?
They wouldn't.
Would they?
I'm sorry, Basira.
Yeah.
If the officers down there take you away...
But...
Perhaps I was wrong when I called them.
Maybe it was a false alarm.
What do you want?
Collateral.
That what?
A contract of employment for Basira.
Uh, what?
Oh, no.
Sign it, and I'll send your ex-colleagues on their way.
Basira, I...
Don't do it.
There.
Damn it.
False alarm, Rosie.
Could you apologise to the officers for me and thank them for their time?
Oh.
Um.
All right.
So.
What?
You're her boss now?
Is that supposed to stop me?
Yes.
Um.
I mean, she's still got a gun.
Ah, of course.
Sometimes I forget how new you all are to this.
Basira is now tied to the Institute.
All of you are.
Like fingers on a hand.
And I am the beating heart of it.
Should I, or the Institute, be destroyed,
you will all, unfortunately, follow suit.
Wait, what?
Yep, that sounds about right.
And it would not be a pleasant death.
Bullshit!
Then shoot me.
Just squeeze the trigger and watch the only person you care about die screaming.
Your last connection to humanity.
Do it.
Daisy.
What do you want?
The police are not the only ones who can find a use for your violence.
I'm sure there'll be plenty here for you to do.
Feel free to go where you like in the meantime.
I'll be in touch.
You piece of... Daisy, it's... it's okay.
We'll figure something out.
This is insane!
You get used to it.
Now that's taken care of, if you'll all give me and John a moment alone,
I'm sure we have some things to discuss.
Yeah.
Come on.
So.
Come on, John.
There's really no need for the scout.
What do you want?
Honestly, to offer some congratulations. You're doing a lot better than I expected.
Feels like all I've managed to do is... not die.
And believe me, that is a remarkably rare skill.
I'm not getting any answers out of this, am I?
The easily digestible sort that wipe away any doubt and fear
and neatly organise your new world into
happy little columns?
No. Not from me.
These are things you must
discover on your own. Why?
What are you?
The archivist. Precisely.
It is your job to
chronicle these things, to experience them,
whether first-hand or through the eyes of others.
To simply be told that, well...
It doesn't please your master.
Our Master, John.
I never chose this.
You never wanted this, no.
But I'm afraid you absolutely did choose it.
In a hundred ways, at a hundred thresholds, you pressed on.
You sought knowledge relentlessly, and you always chose to see.
Our world is made of choices, John,
and very rarely do we truly know what any of them mean,
but we make them nonetheless.
So what now?
You were doing fine before you forced this little scene.
I suggest you continue.
So it was you sending me the statements?
A little bit of direction never hurt anybody, so to speak.
Directed towards what?
The unknowing. I needed to stop it.
Again with what? What is the unknowing, exactly?
A ritual. The stranger and its kin attempting to gather power enough to bring it closer. Again with... What is the unknowing, exactly?
A ritual. The stranger and its kin attempting to gather power enough to bring it closer.
They're trying to... summon it?
Not exactly. These things that touch us, they don't have a form of the sort that could exist in physical reality.
So the stranger wishes to remake that physical reality into something closer to itself.
It wants to make this world its own.
And how do I stop it?
That is what you need to find out.
No, you are not doing that. I know you have Gertrude's notes, her files.
She was working on a way to stop this.
Not to mention that apparently you can effortlessly see anything at any time.
Hardly effortlessly, but I take your point. So obviously you know how to stop it.
You could just tell me. I could, but I believe that if I did so, you would fail.
The stranger is antithetical to us. We thrive on ceaseless watching, on knowing too much.
What we face is the hidden, the uncanny, and the unknown. If you were to stop them,
you need to get better at seeing. And my explaining things is simply not enough.
And you can't just give me all the statements?
John, even when you had all of them at your disposal, you barely got through one statement
a week. Why do you think that is? It takes its toll on you, and I know you have had problems with moderation. So
it's back to breadcrumbs and statements and risking my life talking to things that barely
remember how to be human anymore. For now, I'll be in touch.
Anything else?
Am I... Elias, am I still human?
John, what does human even mean?
I mean, really.
You still bleed, you can still die.
And your will is still your own, mostly.
That's more than can be said for a lot of the real humans out there.
You're worried about ending up like that thing lurking in the dirt under the streets of Alexandria?
Don't be.
Just do what you need to do and you'll be fine.
Understood?
I suppose so.
Good.
Well, I have work to be getting on with.
I'll send you a return to work form, but don't worry about the doctor's note.
Now, if there's nothing else, write.
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