Jigsaw World (20 page)

Soon enough, the group discovered one of the
more idiotic of Southern moral codes. The county was what is known
as a ‘dry’ county, meaning that the sales of Alcohol were illegal
in the county. The natural consequence of such a law was that,
while one could not find a source of beer as a tourist, the natives
could and did score massive amounts of liquor, making the ratio of
drunks to sober men among the highest in any culture. This meant
that they were lucky to have an adequate supply of beer and whiskey
in the RV.

Soon enough, Karla had discovered that one of
the off campus Fraternities had a party going on that night. What
they didn’t know is that they had invited the group, not just the
pretty girl. Needless to say, the four of them gained entry into
the party, and for a couple of hours, it went very well, up until
the drunken Frat Bro took a swing at Tom.

Tom and Karla had been sitting at the patio
table in the back of the frat house, after cutting a piece of the
cake on the table for themselves, and nursing another of those
illegal beers. The Frat Boy came staggering up to the table, and
attempted to put some moves on Karla. Fair enough, Tom thought that
she could handle herself. After she made it clear that she wasn’t
into drunken assholes, the Frat Boy decided that it was time to
pick a fight with Tom. Bad mistake. Tom evaded the clumsy punch
aimed at his face.

“
Fighting is not a game.” Tom said
mildly. He proceeded to pick up the kitchen knife that he had used
to carve off the pieces of cake, and stabbed the Frat boy in the
eye. The victim rocked backward in an almost mechanical motion,
before collapsing backwards to the lawn. Tom carefully wiped down
the knife with a nearby paper towel, before throwing it into the
pond just beyond the yard.

“
It is time for us to go.” Tom
said. Karla seemed a bit shaken by the recent event, but just a
little excited, as well. A few moments later, they retrieved Markus
and Vera from the party by saying that they were ready for a shot
of coffee in a cafe setting. Thirty minutes later, they were indeed
sitting in that cafe, drinking that coffee. Soon enough, they got
into conversation about the business at hand.

“
I am not entirely certain that I
understand how I went from looking for a new place to be, to
somehow being responsible for the worldline reality.” Tom said, as
the others nodded in agreement. “But somehow, it also sounds true.
I don’t think that I can walk away from this ‘mission’, even though
it is not my usual cup of tea.”

“
I know what you mean.” Markus
agreed. “This isn’t even really my world, but I feel like I need to
see this through as well.”

Everyone agreed that they felt like this task
before them was something that they needed to do, even if none of
them could find a good, self-serving reason for doing so. It just
seemed like something that needed to be done, and nobody could get
away from the consequences of it not being done.

The waitress came up to check on them. “Any of
y’all want any pie?” She asked. Everyone told her that they were
good. Tom for one still was digesting that piece of cake that he
had earlier. A little later on, they did order a hamburger each,
more to justify occupying the table this long than because of
hunger.

They all got back to the RV by about 12:30
A.M., and shortly after that, they were snoring in whatever key
their noses were attuned to, in the guest beds of the Sage. Shortly
after nine A.M. the next morning, they were on their way to the
great city of Camden, where they were destined to see the Herald of
Cernunnos, whoever that was.

******

The RV jostled along State Route 79 toward
their appointment to see the Herald of Cernunnos. The Sage had been
cagey about just whom the Herald was, other than to mention that he
wasn’t a normal fellow like the Sage. This he said while wearing
his purple dragon and unicorn jammies. He was willing to fill the
group in on what or who Cernunnos was.

Cernunnos was an ancient Gallic Celtic stag
horned deity, who originally came across the shadow worlds to this
brane of worldlines from the First City, where at the time; he was
a King, before the Lord Baron became the Stewart of the City State.
He was a sorcerer of great power, and became an aspect of the
wooded lands in the near worlds.

Cernunnos had long since retired to some
obscure corner of the shadow worlds, but the Herald would
occasionally appear to do the horned god’s work, or to precede his
rare visits to the places of Man. The Sage assured the group, that
in this case, the Herald was present to do both jobs.

They only had about forty miles of travel to
get to Camden from the time warp of a city that was Magnolia.
Everyone in the RV agreed that there was a strangeness surrounding
that fair city, when they were questioned on the subject. Even
though Tom was not particularly apprehensive about consequences to
his actions, still he was happy to remove himself from the
proximity of his last kill.

Somewhere, Markus had picked up a guitar, and
Vera had something that sounded like an electronic variation of a
ukulele, and the pair of them subjected the ears of the voyagers to
the torturous frequencies dispensed by those instruments. Even the
possum seemed prepared to render a negative review of the
performance.

Soon enough, to the relief of the audience of
the impromptu concert from hell, the RV arrived at the oil central
town of Camden, home to Defense contract companies and the
aforementioned oil companies. When they pulled the RV up to the
map-quested location of the current domicile of the Herald, they
were treated to the sight of a long block building, which was built
in the form of a square, so that it had court gates into the
center, and the ‘walls’ of the court were composed of the building
itself.

As they got out of the RV, they were treated
to the sight of an actual drawbridge gate being lowered, allowing
them access to the compound. Tom was tempted to drive the RV
inside, but he was pretty sure that the Herald was not inviting
them to do that. Tom did make a mental note to ask the Herald why
there was no mote around the compound to go with the drawbridge.
Sharks or crocodiles would have made for a very classic
atmosphere.

When they got inside the compound, they were
greeted by a man who resembled a middle aged Robin Hood wearing
Armani instead of forest green tights. Greeted may have been too
intense a term for what they received. The man came out, looked at
the group, nodded, and turned around and walked toward an open
door. Tom assumed that they were to follow him, having no
information to the contrary.

When Tom entered the room, which seemed to be
a combination kitchen and living room, the man was leaning back on
a chair, gulping down a sliver of blueberry pie. Tom did not see
any more available pie, so he took it upon himself to go to the
fridge to see if there was any beer or other goodies in there to
eat or drink. He had to settle for a beer.

They all settled into chairs, and waited for
the taciturn man to talk. For a while, they waited in limbo while
the man chewed slowly. Finally, he finished the bite, and as they
all leaned forward with anticipation, he dusted off his lap, and
then he leaned back and lit a smoke. Finally, he cleared his
throat.

“
Hi.” He said. As everyone looked
at him expectantly, he looked back at them serenely, as though he
expected them to brief him on the next step. Tom thought that he
could play that game as well as anyone, so he kicked back and gazed
into the odd man’s face. He thought he saw a flicker of reaction in
the Herald’s face when Tom put his arm around Karla, and cupped a
breast affectionately.

“
I guess that long haired asshole
sent you guys to see me.” The Herald said. “I’m supposed to send
you off into a tour of the associated worldlines, so that you can
see how it hangs together, and look for your special magic
toys.”

“
Hey, Harry.” Tom asked. “Where
are we supposed to launch from, here?”

“
The name’s not Harry and I get to
have the pleasure of sending you all off into the fog. If I’m
lucky, you’ll get lost.”

“
Yeah. Tell us again why we are
doing this, and why we have to put up with bull like that?” Markus
asked. “I didn’t even hear anyone offer us minimum
wage.”

“
You should be doing it for the
joy of a job well done.” The Herald quipped. It was funny, but as
the conversation got more acrid, the Herald seemed to be warming up
to his visitors.

He went on to tell his visitors that he would
‘cast a spell’ or tinker with the quantum states of the group (it
was two ways of saying the same thing) that would send them on a
random walk through several nearby shadow earths, following a route
determined by the associations between the shadows. They should
observe the variations they saw, and look for the common elements
that would be present in all of them. Once they knew the
relationship between shadows, they would be able to recognize the
‘place of beginnings’, which essentially would be the equivalent of
a root directory in a directory listing.

“
I would now like to introduce
another guest of mine, the Sorcerer of Hait.” The Herald continued.
“He will work with me to cast the spell that will send you on your
journey.”

A shadow formed in the back of the room, and
advanced toward the front where the Herald stood. When it had
advanced to a point three feet away from his left side, it
coalesced into a form, that of a man that could best be described
as a man of gray and brown. Gray was his clothing, and brown was
his hair and his eyes. Something was wrong with his outline. Things
kept changing, but nobody could put a finger on
what
was changed. That,
and the way his eyes flashed when he flashed a smile to the group
ensured that all who saw him knew that he was unique.

“
We are all here. Without further
ado, let us get started.” The Herald exclaimed. He snapped his
fingers, and with that, the surroundings started to blur and
shimmer, as though an unseen mist was emanating from the Herald and
the Sorcerer. Soon, all the group could see was each other,
everything else was mist.

The mists began to pulse, as though it was a
breathing process. Breathe in, and the outer world is concealed.
Breathe out, and the outer world is there, but each time somehow
changed
.
In the first such breath, the four of them saw the cinder blocks
had changed to rough-hewn stone, and the window now was a bar
secured open air opening. Breathe in, and the mists return, breath
out, and now they are surrounded by a fairy meadow under a moonlit
sky, with odd balloon like creatures floating in the air
overhead.

The mists return, and then the world is a
place of humid jungle vines, and they see a snake slither away in
obvious panic. With the next breath, they see a bustling airport
all around them, and some sort of spacecraft looking vehicles in
the near distance. The next breath brings a cobbled street and the
stench of outhouses lining the street leading by residential
mansions.

The scenes start coming faster and faster, and
the four of them can sense a progression of sorts beginning to take
shape. First the panorama of worlds covered virtually every
imaginable possibility. Now, like pages of a book, they were being
shown in an order of sorts, each one was different from the former
one by a single event result. Thousands of worlds paraded past,
some with but three of them in it, some with five, some with subtle
changes to the landscape, each successive one only slightly
different from the former scene.

Seen this way, it was easy to imagine that one
could follow the path of changes all the way back to some place
where all of these variations originated, some version of the
‘Place of Beginnings’. All of these exciting changes kept Bailey’s
attention rapt upon it, while the possum studiously ignored it all
while grooming a small patch of fur on his left front thigh. Karla,
Markus and Vera were at least as rapt on the changing worldscape
around them as was the dog.

There was a sensation of the presence of the
Sorcerer and the Herald around them, but they were nowhere to be
seen, nor had they been since the first moment of the panorama. The
progression of worldscapes had advanced to the point where most of
the worlds shown were high technology, usually space faring worlds.
The group watched as huge long range planetary and even
interstellar craft left and arrived on the much changed earths of
their reality.

It was as they watched a double ringed warp
vessel leaving the station viewpoint for 26 Draconis, according to
the display that the group had within view, that they began to
encounter some resistance to their journey. The cycle progress
started being ‘stuck’ in certain places, the group saw a few scenes
that they had already seen previously reoccur. The group started to
sense a glue-like
stickiness
to the process as this
occurred.

They heard a voice in their heads that seemed
to be an averaged registry between the two mentors’ voices, and it
said the simple word “Return”. With the hearing of the command, the
world around the four misted up totally, and when it dissipated,
they had returned home. They were greeted in a taciturn manner by
the Sorcerer and the Herald.