by Keith LaHue
James stomped around the edge of the cliff. He should just throw himself over the thought. Donna had died once. And apparently, he had a great life of drug addiction and money waiting for him in New York. Maybe he would wake up there. He became aware that he was thinking out loud, a sure sign of mental illness in any world.
"Hey!" shouted Ken. "I think I've found a way down. James quit talking to yourself and come over here. You too Donna." The two of them stopped their reveries and joined him.
Cut into the side of the cliff was a brand new, almost wet, set of concrete stairs. It would be a long walk, but it was doable. James looked at Donna. Their eyes met and they both knew without saying that the stairs hadn't been there before.
"Ken. These are new. They weren't here the last time James and I tried to find the beach. Somebody - or something - put them there."
"They appear to be our only option. Unless you guys want to pile into the car and try another route. It's Malibu. The beach should be easy to find."
"Easy is relative, I don't think any part of this other than these stairs, has been here to help us."
The three of them stood there for a moment. They were all looking at the stairs when it happened. There was a lighthouse growing out of the soil. It looked old. And the stairs changed as the lighthouse sprouted. They became weathered and torn. Then suddenly the entire landscape changed. They were on the side of a hill. James was the first to recognize where they were now.
"We're at Point Fermin! It's a park in San Pedro," said James. "Only this is old. In our time, these stairs had been washed away. So when are we? And why the sudden shift in location? We're about fifty miles south of where we were. Or at least where we thought we were. Look, there's a narrow strip of beach and water that appears to be moving at the bottom of the stairs. I want to go down. Are you guys with me?"
"I'm in," said Ken.
"I'll go. From this point of view, it doesn't look like I'll fall to my death."
With that, the three of them slowly made their way down the stairs. In their own time, none of this would have been there save the lighthouse itself. The stairs would have fallen into the ocean by now. James had a surreal moment when he remembered driving through Palos Verdes, which was part of where he had marked off on the map as "Not there when it should be" and seeing a sign that read "Caution, constant land movement ahead." But that was in his time. Would that still be there now? There had been houses lost to the movement as well, crumpled in versions of what they had been, vacant. Would there be people living there now? He looked down as they neared the beach. What if all of Long Beach was there now? They were closer to the beach now, just a few more steps and they'd be there.
They were standing on a narrow band of sand. The water, which had looked turbulent and had featured seven-foot breakers was calm. It just sort of lapped at the shoreline. James took his shoes off and took a tentative step out into the water. It somehow didn't feel the way he thought it should. It was like it was an approximation of water and not the real thing. Ken and Donna looked scared. He reached down with his hand and tasted some of the water. It wasn't fresh and it wasn't salt water either. In fact, he didn't think it was water. He walked about thirty feet from shore and was still only into his ankles. If he hadn't known better, he would have likened it to Jesus walking on the water. He motioned to Ken and Donna to come. They spoke among themselves for a minute then Donna and Ken took off their footwear and headed out to him.
"This isn't real water," said James as soon as they got there.
"Well, no shit. What is real in this made of fabrication of a world we're in?" Donna said. Now she looked like she was going to cry. James guessed it was her turn. "I can't take this. I'm dead, I'm alive, and I'm neither. What the hell are we supposed to make of this?"
"Just walk Donna, Ken, walk with me. I have a feeling we're going to find something quite different. But even more disturbing."
"You're just so fucking fun," said Donna.
They walked out on the ocean, which never increased in depth at all. They walked on and on, looking for what, they knew not. Then they got there.
They were at the edge of the world. From here there was only a giant chasm. One which they were all sure that they most definitely would not come back from should the hurl themselves over the edge. When they looked back, they could see the lighthouse, the bridge to Long Beach, all of it. The places James had marked off on his map as not there were growing in place. Not they were there. They looked into the abyss again. From there they knew there was no resurrection. If they elected they could end it all now. This horror that life had become would end.
Ultimately, they chose life, as all living beings do. They started back.
31
Artimus peered into the telescope, which was currently focused on the George Washington Bridge. Attempts to look at the sky were fruitless; looking up was a solid ceiling of off-white tending toward some unnatural shade of blue. So he'd been keeping an eye on it for several days, waiting for creator's spell to finish building it. It now reached into the ancient Rome portion of the diorama. While his head was still befuddled with the existential quandaries of the whole, "We're not really alive" thing, his intent to cross over into the New York City portion of the tableau was furious in nature.
Caius hadn't wanted to come with him at first. Laelia, Caius's wife had put her foot down, telling Caius that she was going, regardless of whether he did or not. Artimus had immediately approved of this, as Laelia was the most powerful of all of the Mages in Rome. She'd come to the forefront of the community, mostly by scaring the shit out of everyone by hurling fireballs at one of the stone buildings. The building wasn't hurt, and the sight was spectacular.
She'd gone on to create even denser and more powerful magic. When Artimus had queried Caius about her power, he'd given him a cowed look and said nothing. With his silence, he'd spoken volumes. She just might be the critical factor in the becoming of the entirety of Pangaea.
Presently, Artimus' attention was drawn away from the telescope by the entrance of Caius. He turned to face him and saw the fear in his eyes.
"You don't have to go you know," said Artimus. "With Laelia coming, you'd be little more than a sightseer. Maybe you could stay here and watch through the telescope."
"Now wait just here! I'm a part of this as much as you, or my wife, who is going against my will."
Artimus heaved a sigh. "She's not even really your wife, and she can do as she pleases. We may very well need her skills, as you well know. She sure as hell doesn't need your permission. Each and every one of us is an equal, even that idiot Caesar. Someone has told him he's not out leader right? Flavius was supposed to handle it."
"He seems to be...stuck. He hasn't come around for some reason, and he keeps issuing edicts and orders, only to become confused when they're ignored."
"I think Flavius may have killed him once. So he may have been reset or something. While we know that no death here is permanent, none of us have died, except maybe Caesar. Has he been killed once or twice that you know of?"
"If he was killed, I know nothing of it."
"What about the others that died? Have we any empirical evidence that they reset upon death."
"The opposite is true. They remember everything, even the state when they were 'dead'. They describe it as like waking and finding yourself in a blue mist - like those surrounding the barriers to other worlds - then suddenly being alive again, sometimes in the middle of an action."
"Some of us still aren't quite as enlightened as the majority. I suppose Caesar will either learn or go on as he is. I heard he was still half-formed. No matter."
Artimus had been writing on a piece of parchment the entire time they'd been talking. He set aside his tools, looking over his notes briefly, and turned to Caius.
"Do we have a team assembled for tomorrows crossing? The bridge has grown all the way into the Jersey side of the Hudson. I want at least six or seven of us. We'll need at least one other Mage tha
n your wife. In fact, Laelia should pick her best and brightest. She's still training the other formally, is she not?"
"Yes."
"Have her pick out the most powerful of the bunch, and see if she can convince them to come."
"I doubt that will be a problem. The problem is going to be keeping the entire population of Rome from fleeing the city. We have no real government or authority over the others. We're driven by free will, that's it."
"Let them cross. My intent is to see if the crossing is indeed possible. If it is, then I see no reason that anyone should be barred from going. My expedition - and spread the word of this - is to make sure that the crossing doesn't render us moot. While we all are struggling with the problems of non-existence, at least we have..." He trailed off, unable or unwilling to articulate what they all knew. "At least we have this." He sat down heavily, the words and thought weighing on him.
"I can see by the look in your eyes, and the timbre of your voice. You're not sure, are you? You don't know what will happen if we cross, or attempt to."
"No, I don't. Nevertheless, we are proceeding. Gather the group, and we'll leave when the light comes back." Night had fallen as they were speaking. Caius nodded his agreement and left. Artimus took a look at New York in the darkness. It was lit up like what he'd envisioned the stars would be like if they ever saw them. He hadn't made a point of telling the others that they were encased in a room of sorts. In some ways, he thought the less they knew about the reality of the situation, the better.
He stayed up most of the night. The facade of like was an illusion, he had no need of sleep, or food, or anything corporeal. When the light came back, he rose from the divan he'd been lying on, and headed to the central plaza, where it would begin, or end, as the great creator willed. He had made a conscious difference between the being that had built this world, and a creator higher still. In his philosophical musings, he had come to the conclusion that they all were, in some small way, truly alive.
The central plaza of the city was alive with activity when Artimus arrived. Flavius, Caius, and Laelia were there, along with two women he didn't know.
"Hello, I'm Artimus," he introduced himself to them. He nodded greetings to the others.
"I'm Antonia and this is Camilla. We're both accomplished Mages and in the most recent stage of consciousness. At least I think we are."
To prove her point, she and Camilla, in what was an obviously rehearsed display, set the ground to quaking with a flick of their hands.
"Camilla, Antonia, stop!" cried Laelia. She turned to Artimus. "They can get carried away at times." The two women magic-users giggled. "But I assure you, they'll prove their worth if it's the will of the..." she stopped short."I guess there are no gods, except maybe the creatures who built this trap."
"I beg to differ," said Artimus. "But that is a subject for a different time." He paused. "Camilla, Antonia, we welcome you to our group. Are we ready?" He addressed this to the entire group."
"As ready as we can be," said Flavius. "I say we be off. There are fresh horses in the stable."
"We're certainly not going to ride horseback into the city, are we? It might add an additional shock to our sudden appearance," said Camilla.
"Well said, Camilla. We'll take the horses as far as the New Jersey side of the bridge. Then we'll walk. Agreed? This is a democracy."
The consensus agreed, and they walked the short distance to the stable. Artimus hoped that the three mages would be able to take down the small wall that surrounded this portion of Pangaea. They could climb it if not. It was never intended to keep anyone out; it was simply a barrier between the two incongruous areas.
They made small talk once they were on the horses. The kind that Artimus supposed soldiers might make on the eve of a battle. They left the city proper for the first time and were surprised at the poor effort into the creation of the zone between areas. There was no grass, just some kind of pliable material painted green.
None of them could see the bridge, they were relying on a crude map that Caius had made from the impressions he'd received from the telescope. They had nothing that would serve as a compass. By and by, they came upon the blue mist. It meant they were on the right track, at least according to Flavius.
There was a flurry of almost incoherent dialogue amongst the three Mages. Artimus stopped them and asked what the matter was.
"The blue mist. It's a magical barrier, created by whomever - or whatever - created us," said Camilla. "We may need to use magic against it, and it's possible that our magic may be useless against it. The creators spell is powerful. I can feel it."
"Do you think you can defeat it?"
"Be glad you brought three female magic-users," smiled Laelia. "You men are so useless at times," she chided.
"Oh we are not," said Caius.
"Stop it. All of you." He turned to Camilla. "I assume we'll need to get closer to it so the three of you can work the spells?"
"It's just the one spell, with all of us reinforcing it. But yes, we'll need to get closer. But not by much."
"We ride then. Laelia, call out when we're close enough."
The six of them rode closer to the barrier, moving slowly so not to suddenly run into the unknown. Of course, all of this was unknown.
After an interval of half an hour or so, Laelia, called out for them to stop. Caius didn't hear her and was blithely continuing on, almost to the barrier itself. Artimus yelled at him, and that did get his attention. He came back to them.
"We'll need to tie up the horses here," said Antonia. "We won't need them if this works. The bridge should be right here."
"Up to you, you're just as much a leader as Artimus," said Flavius. The rest of them gave their tacit agreement.
The three women magic-users formed a circle and began the chant, something guttural and without form. None of the others could make out any specific words, Flavius looked scared, as did Caius. Truth be told, Artimus was a little scared himself.
The women began to move slowly in the circle, the chant continued. They moved, and spoke, ever faster. Soon that was almost a blur to the observer, the men wondered how they could be moving so fast.
Suddenly a bolt of light streamed out of the center of them, upwards to the sky. It formed an umbrella of light, brighter than anything they'd seen. The women continued to move, still faster. The light intensified and was soon too bright to look at. The sky turned to fire. The brilliant light shone down on all of Pangaea
All over Pangaea, the barriers fell. Not just the one surrounding the bridge, but everywhere. The three women collapsed.
In the wild wild west, the travelers were attempting to retrace Jimmy the Quick and Jerome's steps when the veil was lifted. All of them had a palpable sense that something was fundamentally different. It was Tom that had first looked up and noticed the sky was different. The usual sense of it stretching out into infinity, its pale (too pale) illusion of blue was gone. It was now a brownish color, and the light which had been diffused by the spell now gave way to the actual source, the windows of the basement. The light was still far enough away that the inhabitants of Pangaea couldn't tell exactly where it was coming from, from their own infinitesimal size; it still seemed to come from everywhere, and nowhere.
Jimmy cleared his head. His consciousness was swimming with the ramifications of the now-sharper vantage of the land that the absence of spell afforded. Basic emotions now became florid in their assertion upon his mind. The existential crisis was precipitated by a more animalistic need: he had to urinate. He had never done so before, so it was all a little new to him.
"Tom?"
"This is fantastic oh quick one. The obfuscation had been lifted! We may very well be near to freedom!"
"Yes, but right now I need to do something I've never done." He explained his problem. Tom laughed and explained it to him, directing him to give the rest of them some distance, for privacy. Jimmy left, excusing himself.
Tom continued to look at the new sky, w
ondering what it was.
In Byzantium, a man named Austin was in an opium den, imbibing in his favorite pastime when the barriers came down. Suddenly he was sober. He out the hose that was snaking its way out of the hookah it was connected to and put it to his lips, inhaling deeply. Nothing. No rush of the opiate high he had been living on...how long? He didn't know. Part of him knew that he sometimes left the opium den and went to...well, somewhere that wasn't here.
And what was this ridicules turban he was wearing? His clothes looked strange to him too. In the back of his mind, he remembered something called Blue Jeans. He could not remember what they were or looked like, just that he had once worn them in a place called New York.
He set the hookah still burning the something that was in it. He looked around and saw the others on their beds looking as confused as he felt. He got up and left, climbing the stairs to the outside. His memories of the outside were vague.
He opened the door. All around Byzantium people were staring at the sky. Having little to no recollection of ever looking at the sky, he too looked up. What he saw was in no way a natural occurrence in the world as he knew it.
If anything it looked on the brownish side. Then back to opaque. And so on. He was getting a headache as his nascent mental abilities forced themselves into the forefront of his head.
He sat on the steps leading to the ground, and from there out into the world. Chaos was erupting, and for the time being, until he got this figured out, he was going to stay put.
In Los Angeles, the three of them that had just been to the edge of the world felt it too. They were atop the cliff now, offering them a unique vantage point from which to view the now un-obscured panorama. The three were awestruck. Far off in the distance, they could see the skyline of Manhattan, although none of them knew what it was for sure. There were a variety of other settlements, all of them a fair ways away.