He decides to wait until morning. There is still no word from them. By three o'clock he decides he can't wait any longer. HANNIBAL's 28-day program at the rehab center requires him to be back by 6:30pm every night; failure to do so means his program must be started over. He finds the earliest flight to San Francisco and books his return ticket early enough to allow him to get back to the center on time. He has been here for over two weeks and hasn't had a drink in all that time.
The next morning he calls in sick to work. How many times has it been this year, he wonders. Arriving at the airport at 5:30am, he passes the airport store in the terminal and goes in to buy a Gatorade. He sees a shelf of 5 cl bottles of single-malt scotch by the checkout and impulsively grabs two. Just in case, he tells himself. He pockets the small bottles and pours the Gatorade into his hip flask.
The flight boards. He is white-knuckling it. He tries calling HAROLD but the stewardess tells him he is not to be using personal electronics at this time. "Can I have some cranberry juice?" he asks. "And another glass, with ice?" He goes to the lavatory and vomits. He comes back and drinks his cranberry juice, then opens one of the bottles and drains it. Ah, that familiar burn. He falls into a deep sleep.
In San Francisco he takes a cab to the Macallister Building. He begins interviewing the tenants, speaking with Carun and Manuel. They both recall the other agents visiting but are hazy as to the time frame. Was it yesterday? Monday? They can't remember. HANNIBAL abandons this and goes to the Hall of Records, where he locates the blueprints to the building. He returns and begins a methodical sweep of the building, looking for any peculiarities or discrepancies between the plan and the building. In the basement he finds Manuel's blank masterpieces; in Abigail's apartment he finds a receipt for July's rent, never received by ARTLIFE, in the amount of $850 and written on a yellowed receipt slip bearing the logo of Teese Paper Products. He does some checking and finds that Teese was in business from about 1905 to sometime in the fifties.
On the second floor he smells something unpleasant, like mildew and something else. He opens the door near the staircase, and in a squalid apartment finds the body of a young man slumped against the wall behind a pile of garbage bags. He has been shot twice, once in the head and once in the shoulder, from point-blank range. It seems likely that this is the work of his co-conspirators, but it is not like them to leave this kind of incriminating evidence around. He drags the body to the basement to the boiler room and fires it up. It is sweltering down here (it is August, after all), and when he thinks it's hot enough he drinks his other bottle and deposits the body inside.
He only has a few hours now, and his options are running out. He pulls from his briefcase the dog-eared Dyer journal, which he has pored over for weeks now, and turns to a certain page. He begins a series of incantations and gesticulations, unsure of how he is doing or what he should expect. When he has completed them he waits. Nothing happens. He does feel drained, however; that mental exhaustion you feel when you have just completed a three-hour exam.
Disheartened, he returns to the airport. He arrives in Scottsdale with only minutes to spare before his curfew and goes to his room. He shaves his head in solidarity with Britney Spears.
As he sits on the edge of his bed, he notices a small glowing rectangle on his wall. Is it being projected? It looks like it, but as he puts his hand over it he can see the rectangle both on his hand and the wall behind it. He goes to the hallway. There it is, on the opposite wall, but slightly larger. He follows it through the building. In a common room, where other patients are watching television, it is larger still but they seem not to notice it. He goes to the lobby and sees it on the external wall of the building across the street, the Carlsbad County Schizophrenics Annex.
"I have to go across the street," he says to the attending nurse.
"Mr Cole, you're not allowed to leave," she says.
"But it's part of the same complex," he says. "Besides, they have better stuff in their vending machine."
"Oh, Harv, you know I can't say no to you," she says.
"And did I mention," he says charmingly, "that your ankles look less fat today?"
He enters the building. There is a nurse on duty behind a window. He crawls under the window to escape her notice, and into a hallway. The glowing rectangle is above him. He takes an elevator up one level and ultimately comes to a room with a small window. There is a man seated on the bed inside, and across from him a closet. To HANNIBAL it glows brightly but the man seems not to notice. The door is unlocked from the outside. HANNIBAL enters.
"Is it time for my meds already?" the man asks.
"No, I'm here to, uh, empty your wastepaper basket."
"I don't have one," says the man.
"Then I have to check out your closet." HANNIBAL opens the door. He sees not a closet, but a yawning black void. "Don't follow me," he says, and opens his jacket far enough to reveal his handgun. He enters the closet and vanishes. The mental patient starts pressing the button for an orderly.
Meanwhile, back on the phantom upper floors of the Macallister Building, the other agents, with David Langford in tow, arrive in a large room filled with oriental-looking dressing screens.
"If we go in a straight line, we'll eventually find an exit," says MASON. He stays near the wall of the room and plows through screens as necessary. Gas lamps on the walls above them dimly light this room. "Maybe we should just set this place on fire," he suggests. HAROLD objects. Then, they notice that MITCH is not with them. Where has he gone?
At the opposite end of the room there is an archway of marble or granite, the first they have seen of its kind in this maze of parlors and galleries. In their wandering they have been forced up and down many flights of stairs. It's hard to say what floor they are on now, but they have a feeling they have been going up more often than down. MASON suddenly hears MITCH's voice quietly emanating from the open archway, singing a song:
"Cornelius has gone to sea,
'Cross the waves to rescue me
In a ship both tall and fine
He rounds the corner marking time."
The stone hallway through the archway is dark. The agents look for a light source, and notice that the gas lamps above are now hanging oil lamps, each half-full with what looks like whale oil. They take two lanterns and enter the hallway.
They find themselves in a maze of corridors and small rooms. They walk for several hours and become hopelessly lost. Everywhere are alcoves containing small, opaque glass bottles with corks. MASON takes one down to examine it. There is a name inscribed on it but it's nobody he's heard of before. He tries to open it but can't get the cork out. He sets it down and shoots it. It sails across the room but doesn't shatter. He begins pounding it against the stone floor.
Suddenly they realize they're not alone. A man in purple robes appears behind them. He is gaunt, dark-skinned, and has a long, oiled goatee.
"No sudden movements!" yells MASON, gun trained on the stranger.
The old man slowly reaches into his robe and produces a bottle. He smiles at the agents and hands it to them. HAROLD takes it.
"It says 'Jeff Loman' on it," he says.
"That's MITCH!" cries MASON. "You son of a bitch, you killed him!" MASON shoots the stranger, but he seemingly vanishes, leaving only a pile of empty robes.
"That's it," says MASON. "Abigail's dead. We need to get out of here and torch that building." Their first lantern gutters out, and they light the second one.
The lantern is almost empty when they see a dim glow ahead. They follow it and emerge on a cobbled city street. It seems deserted. It is night, but bright enough thanks to the light of two moons high in the sky.
"Where the hell are we? I trusted you guys and now I'm on a different planet!" wails Langford the Cable Guy.
"We're dreaming," says MASON. "I could shoot myself in the head and I'd wake up." He points his gun to his head.
"No!" shrieks HAROLD.
"I could shoot you in the head, and then myself," explains MASON, pointing it at HAROLD.
"Don't forget me!" says David.
Suddenly a dark shape silently swoops overhead. "Some kind of hang-glider?" posits MASON.
Down the street there is a square with a fountain. In the center is a statue of a man on a horse. The agents head towards it. Behind them, they hear the sound of a galloping horse approaching. They look back but see nothing. They opt to take cover behind the fountain, but oddly enough, the statue of the man on the horse is missing. In its place is a statue of a man holding a looking-glass peering off into the distance.
From their vantage point they look to the sound of the horse. They see nothing, but then the bones of a horse in full gallop materialize. As it draws closer, it fleshes out, organs first, muscles, nerves and skin; as it passes them these things fade away in reverse order, and all they can hear is the sound of a horse fading away. They look back at the statue. Now it depicts a porpoise spewing a jet of murky water.
Far away they hear a gunshot. MASON fires his gun into the air. The ominous dark shadows overhead begin to pass more frequently, and perhaps lower. They take cover under an awning. The gunshot is heard again, now closer. MASON replies in kind.
Finally, a figure rounds the corner and runs across the open courtyard to their location. MASON keeps his gun aimed on the newcomer. It looks like HANNIBAL.
"I found you," says the newcomer.
"Don't listen to him," warns MASON. "How could HANNIBAL get here? How am I supposed to know it's you?" he asks the newcomer.
"You're an asshole," he replies.
Now convinced, they enter an abandoned building and compare notes. Inside, HANNIBAL finds a liquor cabinet and replaces the Gatorade in his flask with absinthe. The agents decide they need to relocate to higher ground to see the lay of the land. Down the street is a cathedral, and they quickly run towards it, always staying close to the cover of the buildings. They enter and climb to the bell tower. The city lays below them, silent and seemingly unoccupied. Perhaps a mile away is a lake, covered in thick fog. Beyond that, far away, is a palace. It looks like something out of a Russian fairy tale, many-spired and magnificent. Lights flicker in the windows.
HANNIBAL takes out his phone and takes a picture of the city with the two moons in the background.
They enter another building, an abandoned home, and look around. There are books here, in English. HAROLD opens one and finds it to be a history book, but he recognizes none of the figures or events. He finds a writing desk, and on it a rubber stamp with the former resident's name and address imprinted on it. The city is listed as Carcosa.
They make their way to the lake shore. The lake, they notice, is insubstantial. Instead of water it is comprised of thick fog that ebbs and flows like water. There are old fishing boats pulled up on shore nearby, but they opt to walk around the lake.
They walk for thirty minutes and find they are getting no closer to the palace: it is always directly across from them.
They opt to try their luck with one of the boats. They get inside and MASON bravely pushes them off. When they don't drop into oblivion, he joins them in the boat. They paddle out for some time and find, again, the palace is not getting any closer, but the shore they left is getting farther away. MASON looks over the gunwale and sees lights flicker faintly in the fog below.
He ties a rope to his waist and lowers himself overboard. Twenty feet down, he seems closer to the lights and the fog is thicker, almost like water but he can still breathe. He climbs back up. He considers untying the rope and leaping overboard, but David suggests they could paddle down there. They tilt the boat and begin their descent.
They hear low, dolorous sounds, like the call of whales, and MASON senses something massive slides past them just beyond their visibility. They continue their descent and come to a spire.
"A stalagmite?" asks HANNIBAL. MASON deduces that it is man made, and actually gilded.
"It's the spire of a building," he says. He ties his rope to it and descends, but doesn't find a window before the rope runs out. He climbs back up.
Soon they can see a city spread out before them, and beyond it a lake. They spy four figures pushing a boat into the fog and vanish. MASON attempts to apply some logic to the situation and soon regrets it. Across the lake is a palace, and they paddle towards it, finally settling on the shore in front of it.
Inside they can hear music: the repetitive drone of a calliope, and some distant orchestra. Above the massive open doors is a clock. It is 12:01 am. The agents enter the palace.
They come upon an elaborate costume ball, but the mood is anything but festive. Nobles and courtiers stand in small groups and speak in quiet tones. The agents head to a banquet table and stuff their pockets with non-perishables: candied walnuts, almonds, cookies and fruit.
They begin asking the guests if they have seen Abigail Wright, and show her picture to them. Most are unconcerned. "What difference does it make? The Last King is come," they say. They hear talk of the Stranger, the Tattered King, the man with the pallid mask. At some point HANNIBAL thinks he spies this personage, gliding from this room to the next.
"Hey, David," says HANNIBAL. "Go talk to that guy and ask him where Laura is." David Langford is reticent. HAROLD offers to go with him, so he follows the Stranger. The enter into a throne room, but the thrones are empty. A regal-looking couple sit on the dais, and are consoled by some other courtiers. The Stranger is not here.
"We brought this upon ourselves!" laments one man. "That damned play..."
Finally someone recognizes Laura's picture, and tells them where he saw her. The agents quickly find this location. It is a music room, with a small chamber orchestra playing a monotonous dirge of some kind. In the corner, beyond the small crowds of guests, is a woman laying on a divan. Two men are speaking in heated tones: one of them is dressed in 1940s garb, the other is MITCH.
MITCH is not interested in the arrival of the agents. He is arguing with this other man for the affections of the young lady on the divan. MASON hands him the bottle with his name on it.
MITCH stops arguing briefly and easily removes the cork. MASON can hear the faintest whisper emerge, but can't make out what it said. MITCH seems to hear it, however, and blinks several times.
"Where am I?" he asks.
The other man is angry at this interruption; MASON shoots him in the face and throws the flailing form of Abigail Wright over his shoulder. HANNIBAL takes the man's wallet. It seems he was some kind of encyclopedia salesman.
They are about to leave the palace, but HANNIBAL stops. "Go to the boat and wait for me," he says. He goes back inside to find this Stranger. Eventually he finds him, and follows him until the figure notices him.
"Tell me," says the figure in the pallid mask, stopping to regard HANNIBAL, "have you seen the Yellow Sign?"
"Tell me," replies HANNIBAL, "have you seen my .44 Magnum?" He draws his weapon and shoots the Stranger square in the chest. The figure recoils slightly, then draws his mask away from his face. Behind it is a horror of roiling tentacles and grave-worms. The figure fixes his eyeless gaze on HANNIBAL, and one of the tentacles lashes out towards him.
HANNIBAL's legs buckle, and in retrospect that might have been all that saved him. The tentacle narrowly misses, and HANNIBAL scrambles to his feet and flees the throne room, the inhuman laughter ringing in his ears. He flees the palace just as the clock transitions from midnight to 12:01. He shoots wildly in the air, striking the clock face. He arrives at the waiting boat and paddles with all his strength into the lake.
"What happened in there?" asks HAROLD.
"I, uh, told him what time it was," lies HANNIBAL.
The city has totally changed once again, and HANNIBAL is unable to find the portal that brought him here. He once again produces the Dyer Journal and performs a set of rituals. The other agents are intrigued. Like a beacon, he can see the gate through the shifting streets of the city, and eventually traces it to its source. He leaves the book with MASON and steps through. The others try the same, but find themselves merely inside another building in Carcosa.
HANNIBAL emerges from the closet in the Schizophrenic Annex.
"Holy Jesus! You went in there three days ago!" cries the patient.
"Extradimensional almond?" asks HANNIBAL, offering him a handful of nuts from his pocket.
As he leaves the Schizophrenic Annex, he overhears some doctors speaking of it. He notices they call it the CarCoSA building, abbreviated from Carlsbad County Schizophrenic Annex. A coincidence, he thinks. Having gone missing for three days he has violated his curfew. He packs his things and checks himself out.
"I'm all better," he announces to the nurse as he leaves, on his way to the nearest liquor store.
The other agents get busy studying the journal. MASON attempts the incantation and finds himself to be a natural. He steps through the gate. MITCH does the same.
HAROLD decides that if he could just find Abigail's bottle in the Labyrinth, she could be restored to herself. He takes David through the city and they eventually find the entrance. HAROLD lights a candle and they step inside. After four hours of searching they have not found it. The candle burns out leaving them in complete darkness. HAROLD tries to feel his way along the walls, but soon he hears David screaming through the darkness, fading away. Many horrific hours later he emerges into the perpetual night of the city, and realizes he can't find his way back to the gate, or the journal.
How much time passed here for Cornelius Jones? A week? A month? Eventually he came upon the place and found the presence of mind to speak the incantation. He was torn between staying and going. He finally decides to take the portal, but not before finding a copy of the play The King In Yellow (found in abundance in Carcosa), tearing off the front cover, addressing it to himself and leaving it out by the street for the letter-carrier who may never again come by.
The agents return to the Macallister Building two weeks after they were originally there. Cynthia Lechance is here, having arrived with a sheriff to evict the tenants, but found they are all gone.
"Packed up and left without a word," she says.
They consider trying to get the building condemned, but HANNIBAL remembers the bone fragments that likely remain in the boiler. MASON returns later that afternoon and sets the building ablaze.
Abigail Laura Wright is returned to her father's care, but she remains catatonic, perhaps forever.
Having endured a steady stream of visitors emerging from his otherwise normal closet (including one with a woman over his shoulder who threatened violence if he ever spoke to anyone about this), the patient in Ward 23 of the Schizophrenic Annex, Walter Rasmussen, asked for a room change. His request was denied and his doctors, baffled by his insistance that people were coming out of his closet, were forced to up his dosage and finally even resort to electroconvulsive therapy.
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