Bridgeworlds: Deep Flux (11 page)

As Jack was thinking of all of this, the peace of the room was
interrupted by Bogdan’s booming Russian voice. Jack turned to look at
him.

He was standing in front of the tunnel looking around at the rest
of them. “Misaki spoke ‘
The most beloved spoke aloud the fourteenth
division while singing the sixth section of a song. The Way was opened
for him.’
John was the Apostle who referred to himself as the most
beloved. Each book of the Bible is divided into chapters and a section of
a song is a verse. This riddle refers to John 14:6 and I believe I am to
speak it aloud in front of this section of tunnel with Greek writing at its
top that says ‘I am the Way’.”

The room was silent.
Somehow I am thinking science will not
explain what happens next.

Bogdan looked down at the Bible in front of him and read aloud
facing the tunnel, “Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the
life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.”

Suddenly a blinding light flashed from the tunnel burning the
image of Bogdan’s silhouette in their eyes until he stepped into the light
and disappeared. Jack could see each person following. He grabbed
Sasha’s hand leading her into the light with him. He spoke to her not in
a mocking way but gently, “It’s not science but if it works, you go with
it.” She squeezed his hand as in affirmation, and they stepped into the
light.

Everything faded away, the light was so beautiful. Jack felt as
though he was submerged in water. Then the ground came rushing at
him. He could see despite the blinding light that had just filled his eyes.

Jack stood up and looked around him; it seemed that everyone
but him was covered in a slime. They were in a dark, barely lit tunnel
with patches of green moss. Jack stepped toward one of his team
members to help them but someone stepped out of the shadows. “I’ve
been waiting for this encounter for a long time, Jack,” he said.

The man was extremely muscular, had dreadlocks and a beard.
His large arms were covered with scars that looked like claw marks.
Behind him was a giant winged dog taller than Jack. The man stepped
closer, and Jack could barely recognize him. “Tyree? How did you get
here? You’re… older.”

Tyree had a hard look in his eyes. He approached Jack
menacingly. “Older by hundreds of years… I told you not to go into that
portal. If you had listened… if you only would have stopped pushing
me… You can't even imagine what I've been through because of it. I owe
you this.”

Tyree cocked his arm back and Jack tried to counter, but the fist
still connected shocking Jack with the power that hit him. The force of
the blow sent him flying back toward one of the moss walls. His back
slammed against it and his vision slowly faded along with his
consciousness.

OMAR LOOKED AROUND. He was in the Emerald Forest.
How
did I get here?

The last he remembered, he was paralyzed in a wreck with a
blimp. Now he was in a forest clearing that he recognized. It was a
forbidden area, but those kinds of things had never stopped him. Omar
had to take a second to clear his mind. He felt fear.
Am I dead? I should
be dead. No one could survive the force of that impact. Where am I
really? Is this a dream?
The fear that gripped Omar was not the same
panic he had felt when crashing to his death. The fear he felt here was
the kind of trepidation you get when you know something bad is about
to happen.

Over the centuries there had been reports of a supernatural evil
within the depths of the forest. Omar had put together a special team
to explore the area, but they had found nothing more than an increase
in dangerous animals. Somehow, though, Omar knew there was more.
He knew that the Hybrid race had come from this forest; that much he
had gotten from the only Hybrid Magi, Rocca, but he was unable to get
much more. She claimed that as a Magi she had sworn to give all
knowledge to the Magi, but in her mind and heart, that did not include
endangering her people. She had turned down his offer to explore the
forest, instead warning him of the evil in its core.

Omar was a scientist, and as such he fought the irrational fear
within him
. I am only afraid because this is a dream of a place that
others say I am supposed to be afraid of. It is dark and so thickly wooded
that the sun does not break through the branches. Man has always been
afraid of the dark.

This did not dispel his fear, though. Despite Omar’s
rationalization he knew that there were instincts deep inside of all
creatures that told them when things were not as they should be.

Omar looked down at his clothing. He was wearing the same lab
coat that he had worn when he entered Musterion and he was human
again. This, for Omar, confirmed that he was in a dream. In the dim light
Omar took in his surroundings. There was a ring of thick tree growth
around the clearing and there was only one path out that seemed to
lead into total darkness. Omar had been told that there had been a
battle in this clearing at one time, but as the history had never been
written, he knew nothing of it besides that it gave significance to the
location.

Suddenly hope sparked in Omar.
If I’m dreaming then I’m still
alive.

Wanting to get the dream over with, Omar went into the
darkness. He touched the trees lining the side of the path so as not to
stumble. After walking for some time he could make out a red glow
coming up in the distance. He kept walking normally until he came close
enough to hear a drum beat. Then he crouched and approached slowly
until he could make out contorted animalistic figures dancing around a
cave where the red light was coming from.

Omar noticed he could see distinctly with more detail than he
should be able to at this distance and watched a beast rise from the
cave. The shadows bowed to the ground, prostrating themselves before
the beast. It had horns, the face of a goat, the body of a human, and
glowing red eyes. Then it looked straight at Omar and freezing him in
terror.

In the blink of an eye it was upon him. In a guttural almost
demonic voice it said, “You belong to me.” It dug its claws into Omar’s
arm pulling him closer and roaring like a lion. It had a gleam in its eyes
as if it wanted to devour him whole. Then it shoved its claws into
Omar's chest while he screamed in agony. He went blind with pain and
shrieked, pleading for his life like a mad man.

When Omar lost his voice he heard people running around him.
It was like the panic of an emergency room with doctors and nurses
talking in urgent tones. “How did he get these new wounds,” said a
male voice that Omar recognized as a Magi he trained in medicine.

“I… Doctor, I was watching him as you instructed, and they just
suddenly appeared on his body as he began screaming,” said another.

“Get some of the moss that his rescuer brought with him, said
the doctor. “These wounds are too deep; they might kill him all over
again.”

Omar drifted, exhausted as he felt a needle enter his vain.

Omar woke in the Tower of the Magi's secret medical facility.
The room was all white marble and the Magi, despite the fact that they
were from another world, had managed to unknowingly replicate the
sterile smell of a hospital. He was still paralyzed, but he could move his
neck so he looked to his chest and arm to see thick bandaging all over
his body. The only difference in the ones on his chest and arm was the
fresh blood.

The doctors and nurses didn’t seem to realize that he was
awake. They were likely not expecting it. Omar lay still watching them.

A man with black hair, black eyes, and fair skin came to the
door. He was wearing modern earthen clothing and handed the doctor
the glowing green moss from Musterion.

The doctor quickly opened Omar’s bandages and applied the
moss to his wounds. One of the first things Omar had learned in
Musterion was that the moss worked miraculously on Malakadam that
glowed – Gabad and Miyka – but it took a long time for the healing to
take any effect on Akana or Yaarma.

“Who is that?” Omar asked. The doctor turned his head to
Omar in shock.

 

“You… you are awake Master Metzger,” he managed to stutter
out.

 

Omar sighed, “Yes, I am awake. How long have I been out? How
am I still alive? And who is the man at the door?”

The doctor nodded regaining his composure. Now that there
were Magi in the thousands, Omar was somewhat of a celebrity in
Soterion. He never had a taste for such things, but they were useful
from time to time. “Uh, yes Master Metzger. You have been out for two
weeks. The man at the door is Brian Sathaton. We have deduced, and
he has admitted, that he is from earth. He went through Musterion and
found his way to Soterion. He had some of the moss from the walls of
Musterion and had been wondering the land when he happened upon
the wreckage of the blimp. He was the one who brought you here.”

Omar frowned, the story sounded unlikely. Last Omar could
remember, his blimp had rocketed toward the south east before
crashing. It would have been several days travel to the tower of the
Magi.
How did he know where to take me? How did he know to bring the
moss from Musterion? In my state I should have died within hours.

The man spoke in a British accent, “You are quite fortunate that
I found you when I did. You were in bad shape.”

Omar nodded as that was the only expression he could make
with his body, “Thank you, I am in your debt. Your last name, it doesn’t
sound like an earthen name.”

Brian shrugged, “It is, I assure you.” Something about the man’s
last name still bothered Omar, though, and he knew it was a clue to the
truth that he was hiding.

Omar sighed, “Well, welcome to the tower of the Magi and
thank you for saving my life. I would like to converse more, but I am
feeling tired. For now I would ask that you be given quarters in the
tower and wait until I am feeling up to talking longer.

“Yes, sir. I hope you feel better soon.” He bowed and then
walked out of the room. Omar watched him disappear around the
corner and listened to him continue down the hall. He could hear his
Kuon, Volex, snarling.

Omar turned toward the doctor, “Send for him tomorrow. For
now I will rest.”

 

“Master Metzger,” said the doctor, “He did save your life.”

 

Omar looked to the doctor, “Yes, I know. I am just trying to find
his motivation in doing so.”

 

The doctor nodded and then Omar shut his eyes.

Omar had not had a good dream in many years. He had been
plagued with nightmares for the past decade. Nightmares of returning
to earth to find that his sister had died in her coma, that he and Myles
were enemies, and nightmares of death and corruption within the Magi.
The worst nightmares Omar never remembered.
After Omar fell
asleep, he knew he was dreaming. But this dream was welcome and
pleasant.

It was 1995 at the University of Southern California and Omar
(age 26) had just attended the annual conference of string theorists. He
had become fascinated by theoretical physics and string theory.

Later that day he went to dinner with several of his colleges to
discuss the topic of the conference. As they all rode together in the car
Doctor Graham and Doctor
Gupta
debated as Omar interjected from
time to time.

Doctor Graham was tall but he stood hunched over. He was
balding with white hair and glasses. "I tell you, it is not possible to unite
all five string theories. Though Witten had some good points, there is a
reason there are five theories instead of one. They are different
thoughts on the same matter."

Doctor Gupta who was a short Indian man with a British accent
shook his head, "You are wrong, Sir. Witten's heritage alone should give
him enough clout to be listened to, never mind that M-theory is
probably the best theory that has ever been presented."

Doctor Graham, who was driving, pulled into the parking lot of
the restaurant and looked back to Omar. "You have been quiet, my
young friend. What are your thoughts on the matter?"

Omar turned to Doctor Gupta, "Though I enjoy talking about
and listening to theories on theoretical physics, at the end of the day
most of it is mere speculation. Is it possible that Witten is right? Yes. But
it all boils down to the fact that there is no way to prove it at this point
in time. Doctor Gupta, I am forgiving as your specialty is not genetics,
but any scientist should know that clout does not come from a gene
pool. Yes, Witten's father was a theoretical physicist, but genius is not
always passed on. Given that, I will say that I do agree that Witten is a
brilliant man. But he is capable of being wrong."

The three men got out of the car and walked toward the
restaurant. Doctor Gupta turned to Omar and smiled. "You make a good
point but you still have not expressed your own beliefs."

Omar smiled back at Dr. Gupta who was holding the door to the
restaurant open for him. They were seated by the hostess. Omar
cleared his throat, "Here is where we separate science and belief. The
problem is that out of an infinite number of possible truths there is only
one truth of the matter. What are the odds that Witten (one man with
one theory) is right? What are the odds that any of the string theories
are right? I will admit that the possibility of other dimensions is
fascinating to me, however; I am confident that in my lifetime I will not
see proof one way or the other."

Doctor Graham protested, "And still with all of the rhetoric you
have not answered the theory you favor."

 

Omar nodded, "I favor Hugh Everett’s many-worlds
interpretation.

"If all possible alternative histories and futures are real, does it
not reduce the significance of our own existence? We are but one of
many versions of ourselves." It was a woman's voice. They had not
noticed that the waitress had been waiting for them to stop talking to
take their order.