Free Calypso Directive by Brian Andrews Page B

at the entrance to the Klementinum. The fact that he had not seen Will’s exit was a miracle. Will resisted the urge to sprint; instead, he turned and walked briskly away in the opposite direction. The sound of tires driving on cobblestones sent a shot of adrenaline into his bloodstream. Shit. Will glanced back over his shoulder expecting to see the two thugs in pursuit, but instead he saw the bald man embrace a blonde woman and get into the passenger seat of her BMW 135i. As the couple sped away, Will took several deep breaths, collected himself, and then set off walking.
    He decided he would spend the remaining time hiding in a local pub. He wanted somewhere lively, crowded, and packed with tourists. Somewhere he could get lost in the herd and maybe even talk a happy drunk into swapping jackets. After ducking his head in several pubs, he finally found the perfect spot. Were he not running for his life, he would have happily capped off every night in Prague at a place like this. He milled about the bar until he saw a corner table open up. He slid into the booth from the right side at the same time a woman slid in from the left. They bumped hips, locked eyes, and burst into laughter. She was at least fifteen years his senior, hailed from Dublin, and was on vacation with her husband who was standing in line at the bar. He chatted happily with the couple, sharing the booth for the better part of two hours. While they entertained him with stories of their travels, he sipped on a glass of dark ale. It had been over five months since he’d had a beer, and every swallow was a sumptuous kiss to his palette. However, his body was so unaccustomed to alcohol that halfway through his first pint, Will was already buzzing. He resisted the temptation to order another; it was imperative he keep his wits about him. Eventually, the Irish couple excused themselves, and he was left alone.
    His thoughts drifted to Julie. He imagined how the reunion might happen. Would she recognize him? Had the years been kind to her; was she still beautiful? What would it feel like to hug her? Would she let him embrace her? What would she think of him—drawn and unkempt as he was. Unexpectedly, he felt nervous as a wealth of memories and feelings he had suppressed for years came rushing over him.
    The rowdy crowd in the tavern mellowed and thinned as the night wore on. During his time at the library, Will had printed Google maps depicting the streets between the Klementinum and the Astronomical Clock. The tavern was conveniently located only a few blocks from the Orloj, so he decided to stay put until the hands on the clock above the bar showed ten minutes until two o’clock. When it was finally time to go, Will paid his tab, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and set off to meet Julie. Within minutes, he was standing in front of Old Town Prague’s most famous landmark.
    The Astronomical Clock of Prague, or Orloj, features two vertically stacked and richly appointed dials—each colored predominantly in shades of blue with intricate gold detailing. It was crafted and installed in 1410 by the combined talents of a clockmaker and mathematician. Even to the untrained eye, it is obvious that the Orloj is much more than a traditional clock. The upper dial, in addition to keeping the local time, also displays the times for sunrise and sunset, ancient Czech time, and the celestial movements of the sun, moon, and zodiac constellations. The lower dial is a calendar with elaborate inset paintings representing each of the twelve months.
    A cast of colorful wooden puppets comes alive every hour animating the clock’s exterior: Vanity—forever admiring himself in a mirror; The Miser—shaking his bag of gold; Death—with his signaling bell; and the Turk—with his flute. Even more renown than the four animated figures is the Walk of the Apostles. Each hand-carved wooden apostle is as large as a man, dons a halo, and carries a unique