Elvey stared blankly at Mr. Donaldson.
“You’re… dead…” he muttered.
Mr. Donaldson smiled faintly, shrugged his shoulders, but said nothing.
Elvey looked at the device. Both lights were on, pulsating.
“Am I in the future?” He asked, looking at the other man.
“Terrance,” he answered quietly, “There is no future, because it hasn’t happened yet. You should understand that – they taught it in fundamental theory!”
Elvey, fists clenched, answered, “I couldn’t afford the elder academies, Donaldson – or did they teach you that in fundamental theory?”
Donaldson grimaced and muttered an apology. Then he added, “Anyway, I told you the lock to the Kairos Snare was in the future – not that you’d have to go to the future to get it.”
Elvey, staring at him, asked, “Then, where are we? And what are you doing here?”
Donaldson sighed, and motioned for him to follow.
They went down the hall toward a door labeled ‘Conference Room’.
Donaldson opened the door and they found themselves in an open field with a steady drizzle falling.
Elvey turned. As far as they could see, there was nothing but the field – no sign of building or even door.
There were several large cars and a truck a short distance away, and a group of people.
“You’ll get used to it,” Donaldson said, looking at him with a half-smile.
“Where are we now?”
“All of this, everything you’ll see, are moments I passed through, trying to stop Combs,” Donaldson said, slowly walking toward the group of people, “We are in the chasms right now, Elvey.”
Elvey looked at him, saying, “I remember it differently.”
“As I said, these are moments I passed through,” he answered, “We’re taking a path already traveled. It was quite different when I went through it – chaotic, indescribable, everything you remember about the chasms. It was foolish of me to use the chasms, but I saw no other way.”
“Why?” Elvey asked.
They were now on the outside of the group of people.
“Watch and learn,” Donaldson answered, adding, “We are invisible – this is the past, so we are not even here.”
They slowly made their way through the crowd.
The people, many wearing lab coats and several armed, surrounded a large device. Parts of it were crystal-like, some appeared organic, and most of it was a heavy metal.
A man stepped toward the device. He was pale, almost blue, and thin.
Elvey, staring at him, muttered, “Combs – what happened to him?”
“He managed to rebuild a chasm ship, and he went further and further down, until he heard whispers in the void,” Donaldson answered, “Whether he imagined it or not, we won’t know. I am inclined to believe there is someone – something – in the chasms. They were built, Elvey.”
“But… what happened?”
Donaldson shrugged his shoulders, “He let his health go, and he’s spent much too time in the chasms. That’s why he looks the way he does.”
“Why isn’t someone caring for him, or locking him up? Why –” Elvey began.
“There is some kind of…” Donaldson hesitated, continuing, “It is nearly impossible to not do what he wants. You want to, you have to! I think it’s whatever’s in the chasms.”
Elvey looked at him, an eyebrow raised.
“Really – isn’t that going a bit far?”
The expression on Donaldson’s face – somber, frightened, genuine – silenced him.
“Observe,” he whispered.
Combs had been looking over the device.
Now, he suddenly said, “Let’s give it a try.”
The group moved restlessly, nervously – several chuckled excitedly.
“Edda,” Combs spoke with command, “Activate!”
The device suddenly rose from the ground. The crystals glowed; the metal turned so that the device hovered silently with a strong wind blowing the grass beneath it and spraying the rain; the organic part came together, forming into two arms.
Elvey drew back, moving to leave. Donaldson put a firm hand on his shoulder.
The arms on the device reached upward toward the sky, and then motioned as though ripping something a part.
An instant afterwards, the grass in the field, as far as the eye could see, froze in place, lengthened, became sword blades, and rose in the air. Hands held the swords, then arms emerged as one, then whole bodies – a vast army of huge warriors surrounded them as far as the eye could see.
“We have to get out of here,” Elvey spoke hoarsely.
“We are not here,” Donaldson whispered, his hand still on his shoulder, “We’re safe – not shut up and listen.”
The group had not reacted to the change, even though there was barely room for them to move.
“Nothing happened,” someone said.
“Edda,” Combs spoke, “Let’s have a glimpse of the army.”
The arms moved again, and a hole appeared midair around the device. Everyone reacted – drawing back, gasping, muttering astonishment.
The whole, or window, remained open for a minute, and then closed.
“Excellent,” a woman in a lab coat muttered, “It really worked.”
“We have an army,” Combs said, “What do you think?”
He looked around.
Most exclaimed delight. A few seemed frightened, but excited.
The woman in the lab coat who had spoken before, said, “It’s impressive, it’s what we wanted…”
“We have command over reality! That’s what I can do with grass,” Combs said breathlessly, “Imagine what can be done with trees.”
“But,” the woman continued, “There’s something about…” she hesitated, looking at the device warily, “Those arms. We didn’t design those. It’s… I don’t like it.”
“Do you trust me, though?”
The woman looked at him…
The doubt cleared from her face. There was a faint smile on her face.
She nodded slowly in response.
Combs turned to the device, and said, “Edda, withdraw to Level 12.”
For an instance, the device vanished, and then reappeared.
Everyone gasped, and a young man said, “Where did it go?”
“It’s with the army,” Combs smiled, “It, and the army, is everywhere. They will be with us, whenever we need them – present but invisible, in the half realms. The arrangement couldn’t be better!”
Homespun Tabby 