2 Minutes to Midnight

by Steve Lang

  “Help me,” he whispered.

  “Oh, they won’t hear you. Not in the state you all are in, anyway.” A voice said.

  “Who’s there? Can you help me, please?” George begged.

  “Sure, you’re a living mess there on the ground.” The owner of the voice sounded like a Liev Schreiber from the movie Mixed Nuts.

  George was staring up at the sky trapped under the tree while a large rock dug

  uncomfortably into his spine. The owner of that gruff voice began to come around the tree, and George felt as if he was losing his mind. The creature standing over him was perhaps five feet tall, with the body of a man, the head of a goat, and long black wings. It was wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt with the picture of a funky looking bookstore that read Greetings, from the Manhattan Restaurant of the Mind.

  “Am I insane? Who or what are you? Did the mushrooms do this? Oh my God, please don’t kill me!” George babbled.

  The creature rolled its eyes at the trapped man and stood hands on hips over him with disgust.

  “I am a Given, and I came from a dimension parallel to yours.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I like your planet.” He laughed. “And, sometimes when I need to get away I spend time in your forests. I’m not going to kill you, but you may die of exposure if your friends don’t find you.” The Given studied George, and then looked up the ravine George had tumbled down shaking his head slowly from side to side.

  “Can you please get this tree off of me?” George pleaded.

  The hallucinogens had really done a number on his brain and he was still unsure about whether he was speaking with a real being. George had seen visions before after taking too many mushrooms, mixed with one or two other hallucinogenic drugs, but this was different.

  “No, you are not imagining me, I’m quite real,” he said, removing the tree from George’s leg. “I can see the look on your face,” said the Given.

  “Do you have a name?” George asked.

  “My name is Gaz.” He replied.

  With a great deal of pain, George was able to sit up, and as he did the Given reached into one of his pockets and brought out an emerald crystal. He held it out in the palm of his hand as it glowed a brilliant emerald, then he knelt down, touched George’s leg and closed his eyes. The Given seemed to be in a trance, and George could feel heat building in his broken legs, as if they were on fire. The pain was so intense that George had to close his eyes, and when he did he was transported to another realm in his mind. He could see creatures soaring through the air like birds on a forest planet that had beautiful oceans and rivers that cut through the land. Massive strange fish swam in schools numbering in the millions, as dinosaurs roamed the land above them.

  All of it seemed strangely familiar to George as his mind began to take him higher into the sky, and suddenly he was above the planet, soaring in space. Looking down he noticed that the planet he had been transported to was earth at some point in the prehistoric past. Between the North American and eastern continents was a large landmass he had never seen before on any map.

  “That’s the lost continent of Mu. It sank into the ocean thousands of years ago during one of my more turbulent visits,” said Gaz.

  “How old are you?” George asked.

  “I have been alive for nine millennia, and my people have been traveling to your realm for over sixty-five million years. We were here when your ancestors arrived from there.” Gaz pointed to the sky.

  “Arrived? From where?” George asked.

  “In time your people will remember where you came from and begin to understand your place in the singularity of existence once more. You have simply forgotten yourselves.”

  George could not understand what Gaz was telling him. His attention drifted.

  “My legs, they’re…better!”

  “Of course they are.” Gaz fixed him with a questioning gaze. “Would you like to see where I came from?”

  George stood up, brushing some leaves off of his clothes, and hair as Gaz watched him in silence.

  “Sure, how do we get there?”

  “Walk around the tree ahead of you, and you’ll see a thin line in the hill. That’s the gateway, until I close it anyway.” Gaz replied. George walked around the tree.

  “I don’t see a thing.”

  “Un-focus your eyes and look into the hill.”

  George saw a shimmering, waving thin line in the hill that looked like a mirage. He put his hand into it and felt a cool breeze brush by his fingers. He heard the rush of wind, and smelled fresh air that was different from the kind found on earth. A moment later, Gaz took George by the waist and whisked through him through the portal. With George in his arms, Gaz flew high above a windswept beach below watching ocean wave’s crash gently into the shore. A lush forest canopy carpeted the land, and castle spires rose from the treetops like beacons. George saw some blue castles, some rainbow swirled, one colored a burnt sienna, and other myriad assortments of strange colors and styles of architecture.

  “This is beautiful!” George looked up at twin suns above his head, and lost his breath.

  An orange planet ten times the size of earth’s moon lingered in the sky like a giant marble. White clouds swirled around inside giving the planet a distinctive orange Julius appearance.

  “She’s Cratona, the fourth planet in our solar system, and in orbit with us through the cosmos.” Gaz smiled.

  Gaz flew toward an enormous castle at the top of a large cliff overlooking the ocean.

  “This is my home, Vadiya Castle.” Gaz said.

  The walls were massive, angular, and constructed of granite, with little rectangular windows that were spaced several feet apart on every level of the castle forming an oval at the top one each tiny portal. They came closer and George could see the heads of serpents as keystones above each window. In the courtyard was a large maze of high hedges, some of them were shaped like people, others were trimmed to form birds and dinosaurs.

  “The maze is a game for children. It’s hours of fun for them and the adults get a break, of course. The walls occasionally move to give them a bigger thrill. They go in and are lost for hours among the corridors of green. Once last year a child got lost in there and forgot the magic word which would have opened an exit, and wandered around until we realized she was gone and began to fly around looking for her.” Gaz shook his head.

  “Your children can’t fly?”

  “No, not until they reach adulthood, usually around eighteen hundred years.” Gaz explained.

  “It’s amazing that you live so long.” George trailed off, looking at the maze from above with curiosity. “The maze doesn’t look that difficult.”

  “From high up many things seem clearer, but if you’d like to try going through I can arrange it.” Gaz chuckled.

  George had always loved mazes because of their seclusion and mystery. When he was a child he spent his summers with his grandparents, and one of their favorite places to take him was an old hotel in the mountains. This majestic old haunt had a complex maze of trees and bushes that he would find himself lost in for hours. The designer left maze walkers bread crumbs along the way, to let them know they had taken a correct turn, with little bushes trimmed in the forms of arrows, rabbits, a cat, a dog, and one near the exit was a squirrel wearing a Santa hat.

  Gaz landed on the roof of his castle, and a tiny robot shuffled up to them. It stood two feet tall, and looked like a miniature wastebasket with tank tracks for feet.

  “Welcome home, sir. Will we have a dinner guest this evening?” The robot said.

  “Hello Percy, yes, my friend George will be dining with us tonight.”

  “Very well, sir.” Percy replied, and turned to go. George listened to his little tank tracks whine across the granite roof.

  “He spoke perfect English, that’s amazing. Do you have a lot of those robots here?”

  “It’s how Givens get most of their manual labor accomplished. We outlaw
ed slavery a millennia ago, and so we needed an alternative for free labor. Percy is a life saver.”

  “He seemed so…real. Do they think and feel?”

  Gaz sighed. “Yes, unfortunately, Ragal Wasron, a robot designer, and crackpot, decided—about three hundred years ago—to make them sentient, and in turn they revolted against unfair labor practices, formed a robot union, and made a mess of the whole idea of robot ownership. I pay my robots to work for me now. Ridiculous, right?”

  “I don’t have a frame of reference, Gaz. I still feel like I’m going to wake up with a tree on top of me.”

  Smoke rose on the horizon as the setting twin suns illuminated the sky with a deep orange glow.

  “There’s a war being fought over there, and I’m afraid it’s approaching my castle. I brought you here as a distraction from the horror heading our way, but I’ll make sure you’re back home before the fighting starts.”

  “What’s it over?” George asked.

  “A faction of warbots have begun mass producing themselves in factories around the planet, and their central intelligence has deemed the Givens unnecessary. They are trying to wipe us out.”

  “You created them… how’s that possible?”

  “The prodigal son, George. Our Frankenstein’s monster has returned home to destroy his master. So far, we’ve been able to stop a lot of the chaos and shut down many of their factories, but they have nuclear weapons now, and are a bigger threat than in the past.”

  “You’ve got the same problems here that we do on earth.” George was amazed.

  “Hah, you’re not kidding. Your people have become so primitive, so much further from what you used to be. I wasn’t around when the last cataclysm hit your planet, but my father would tell me stories of your great technology. It rivaled our own in complexity and power.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “Your makers became frustrated with your independence, your debauchery, and warfare, and so they sent an asteroid toward your planet.” Gaz explained.

  “So, it’s all true… that TV show Ancient Aliens isn’t far off.” George said.

  “I’ve seen that program from time to time. They try to sensationalize for ratings, but the premise is good, and the majority of those involved have solid science behind their findings. I rather enjoy watching the program when I’m on your planet. Let’s go inside and find something to eat. I’m sure one of the bots has made something for dinner, and you can meet the wife.”

  Something buzzed overhead as Gaz opened the door leading down. “Drone!” He yelled, and a moment later the world erupted with a thunderous explosion. Gaz took to the air chasing the robotic plane, and from his front jeans pocket produced a small black cylinder. George was thrown to the ground in the blast, but was otherwise unharmed, and watched Gaz with wide-eyed fascination. The Given and drone were in a dog fight above his head, and from the tiny black cylinder a laser shot across the sky. The drone had another bomb attached to its belly and as it dived Gaz launched himself, firing the laser into the nose cone. A small black hole opened in the drone, and George could see sparks, and flame coming from within. Then, it dropped from the sky, Gaz giving chase. He slowed the falling drone before it could crash to the ground and detonate its final bomb. Hugging the drone, Gaz brought the destroyed plane to the ground with gentle care, laying it on its top, the bomb facing up. George stood at the edge of the castle wall looking down.

  Percy wheeled out to Gaz, accompanied by a troop of other bots of varying shapes and sizes. They dismantled the drone in short order and began to eat the parts. Percy and another fatter, larger bot took the bomb apart and began to eat everything but a small round ball. Gaz took that and flew back up to where George was standing.

  “Ever hold a nuclear bomb in your hands?” Gaz smiled.

  “No, never. Is that what that is?”

  “Yes, the first bomb was designed to open a hole in the wall, while the second one is a chaser and would have caused much more damage. This castle would be a smoking hole in the ground had the drone been successful. I collect these for when I need them, and the time is almost near. I’ve got about a hundred of these little fellow’s.” Gaz said.

  They surveyed the damage to Gaz’s castle.

  “Not too bad, it only took out the wall to my workout room.”

  “How are you going to use the bombs?” George asked.

  “I have a launcher, or course. It’ll send one of these fifteen miles from here. Once the robots are within twenty miles from me I’ll attack, the only drawback is we’ll have to leave the area for several thousand years, or die from radiation poisoning.”

  “Wow, I’m sorry, man.”

  “Small price to pay. If we leave before the fighting gets here my home will be destroyed anyway, and I’ve got some warbots to kick ass on.” Gaz tossed the nuclear bomb in the air like a baseball catching it absent mindedly.

  “Could you not do that, please?” George asked.

  Percy rolled up to them. “Dinner’s ready, sir.”

  “Let’s eat.” Gaz tossed the bomb to George.

  “Aaagh!” George barely caught the nuclear device.

  “I’ll introduce you to Loina, my wife, and Wavri and Lamuni, my son and daughter. They’ve never seen a human in the flesh before.”

  “How old are your kids?”

  “Five hundred and fifty years next week, they’re twins. It goes by in a flash when you become a parent.”

  Through the doorway and down they went, passing by family apartment rooms on their way to the dining room. After winding through multiple corridors they came to a grand staircase constructed of marble and granite tile. On either side were crafted handrails with carved granite spindles supporting a curved mahogany rail, lacquered to a pristine shine. George, for a brief moment, thought about sliding down the rail until the saw the large orb shaped baluster knob at the bottom.

  “I wracked myself rather well on that when I was a child.” Gaz had seen George’s expression.

  “Yeah, I’m not interested in de-balling myself in your home.” George grimaced .

  “Loina, I’m home, and there is a dinner guest with me.”

  “Hi dear, welcome back…you brought a human.” She sounded disappointed.

  “Be nice, this guy is good people.”

  “I’m George, nice to meet you, uh, Loina.” He was nervous and began to sweat.

  “OK, Gaz. Welcome to our home, George.” Loina smiled. She had the body of a human super model, the same goat head as Gaz, and white wings instead of black like her husband. Loina wore a white draped toga, and sandals with diamond studded thong straps that wrapped around her ankles.

  “Madam, the food is getting cold. It has dropped approximately five degrees since you began talking.” The bot standing behind Loina explained.

  “Thank you, Galdor. We’ll be a minute.” Loina replied.

  “These robots are a hoot, aren’t they?” Gaz said. “If they weren’t so darned convenient, I’d get rid of them.” Gaz shook his head.

  “Sir, you really are asking for a sneezer.” Galdor said over his shoulder while pouring wine.

  These bots looked almost Given, with some sort of rubberized plastic for their skin, real fur, and convincing facial expressions. If they did not walk almost a little too stiff it would have been hard to tell the difference between Given and machine.

  “Let’s go have a seat; the kids are already at the table.”

  George entered a large dining room with a long grey stone table that looked as if it was carved from one piece of giant rock. Two small Given children sat at the table drawing and doodling with chalk on the table. They looked like their mom and dad with the exception that they had no wings.

  “You’re going to get all of that on your clothes. Children, this is George, from Earth.” Gaz said, guiding Loina to her chair, and sliding it back.

  “Hi George,” they said and went right back to doodling.

  Dinner was served and the conversation
turned from where George was from on earth to raising children, and finally to the robot war.

  “This whole war was avoidable. If only cooler heads had prevailed before our people had decided to make warbots to fight their wars for them. It was a mistake to make them sentient, because once they learned that we were a destructive and warlike race, they sought to destroy us. We’re a threat to their society.”

  “Are…all of the robots against you?” George lowered his voice.

  “No, ours will fight with us, because they know we need each other. The warbots on the other hand are nothing but programmed destructive killing machines.”

  “But the robots are sentient, right? You said they think and feel, so can’t you reason with them?” George asked.

  “We tried that, but their basic software is tied to battlefield logic, and although they think and feel much like we do, the warbot’s primary directive is to eliminate anything that appears to be a threat.” Gaz explained.

  “Hey, we’ve got warbots back home, only they’re called politicians. What do they look like?”

  A knock came at the door. Rap…Rap…Rap. Galdor went to answer it, and as soon as his hand touched the knob the door exploded in a hail of wood chunks and splinters. Galdor was torn apart by the blast, his head popping off his body, hitting the top step of the stairs, and then rolling back down. A second later a hovering robot with spinning blades around the center of its body zipped through the hole. To George it looked like an oscillating fan turned on its side. Gaz fired a beam at it with his pocket weapon, destroying the warbot in a single shot. He looked out one of the windows, and his courtyard was filling with warbots.

  “They’ve come! Run to the safe room!” Gaz yelled.

  Everyone ran, and George followed them down a secret staircase off the kitchen, to the basement past a large cistern that fed the castle’s water needs, and entered a room with piles of the hand grenade sized nuclear orbs that Gaz had retrieved from the earlier drone attack. There was an elevator shaft with a button panel on the right side. Mounted on wall racks were long cylindrical tubes.