Descendant

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Descendant Page 10

by Jeffrey A. Levin


  “Hey Zeke, can I drive this big bucket?”

  Ezekial glares at me with steely defiance.

  Enough said.

  “So does this rocket get up to warp speed? Does it reach superhypersonic velocity? Do we need an accelerometer to gauge our altitude control systems?”

  Zeke flashes a quizzical, eagle-eyed, beaming scowl at me. Translation? He must think I’m just a punk kid.

  “First, my friend Michael, I know that you are a very bright young man,” Zeke says with a disarming smile on his face. “However, things have changed over the years. You have some work to do, and we don’t have that much time. The portals are closing.”

  Okay, I feel pretty stupid right now. Just should have kept my mouth shut. I’m going to have to just roll with it.

  “Sorry,” I say meekly, peeking out the window, watching Earth disappear from view.

  Zeke inhales deeply, patting me on the shoulder. “Hey, anytime you have a question, I’ll be glad to answer it.”

  “Well then,” I say, feeling a new surge of optimism, “are we going to ride the wave of geomagnetic fields?”

  Zeke nods, taking a bite of what appears to be a hot dog. “That isn’t a hot dog, is it?” I ask, feeling pangs of stress-related hunger.

  Zeke guffaws. “Well, it’s a combination of grasshoppers mixed with fortified microorganisms topped off with a little bit of organic mustard, purified by a laboratory on my fourth-dimensional home. Try one!”

  I wince, nodding. “Okay,” I say, since I am starving. I take a bite. “Not bad.” I swallow, forcing a smile. “So what is our major mode of transpo?”

  Ezekial stares at his instruments, appearing to be a little miffed. “We may be picking up a little bit of wind, forcing some magnetic reconnection.”

  “Little translation?

  “Well, we’re going to enter a boom tube point soon.” Zeke points to one of his instruments. “‘Boom tube’ is a slang expression among us time travelers for extradimensional, or X, points. You know—point to point equivalency.”

  “Teleportation!” I ejaculate.

  Zeke nods. “Sorta; you’re catching on! Although it’s not exactly that. You see, these magnetic fields connect to the energy of suns in various galaxies. They can open and close up to a dozen times per day.”

  “So even a time traveler has to stay on a schedule?”

  The grave man’s face breaks into a smile. “Ya know, Michael, I’m beginning to really like you!”

  Yeah, you’re not bad either, for a time traveler, I guess.”

  “An X-point is opening up right now. Are you ready?”

  I swallow my last bite of grasshopper dog—quite a delicacy.

  “Hold on, Michael! We’re going to play a great game of Chutes and Ladders! Hang on for dear life!”

  I grab a gravitational pulley in front of me. Let me tell you something; if you’ve never shot through a portal at the speed of light, you haven’t lived—or, come to think about it, died.

  Ezekial and I begin screaming at the top of our lungs. It’s the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

  “Boy, was that ever fun!” I say.

  “Shooting through a portal? What can be better?”

  Suddenly I feel very sad. “I can’t stay that long, Zeke.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, because I have this girlfriend.”

  “Tell me about her,” Zeke says, flashing a knowing grin.

  “Really?”

  Zeke laughs. “Of course really.”

  I take my time, thinking about our latest excursion. You know—the one where we went caving. Zeke moves the throttle, or what appears to be the throttle, on the ship. “It’s okay; I’m placing the craft on mind control. This is what we call an intelligent rocket ship.”

  “Mind control?” I inquire.

  “Even rockets can go on automatic pilot. We have time, although time is relative,” he quips, winking.

  I nod. “Her name is Maya, and she’s my girlfriend,” I proudly announce.

  “So tell me about her,” Zeke inquires in the most reassuring way.

  I arrest a deep breath. “Well, we went caving one day. Actually, we engaged in caving a number of times. You know, there are a lot of great underground caverns by the water on the island. They’re awesome!” I say enthusiastically.

  I peer at Zeke; his eyes seem to profoundly reflect upon me. His eyes are like blue lasers cutting a path into my very being.

  “Go on,” he encourages airily.

  “Maya and I found footprints in the cave. So a few weeks later, when we met Bone—Bone is a man on the island—”

  “Yes, I know who he is.”

  A silence ensues.

  “How do you know Bone?” I ask.

  A sort of eerie and damn near creepy smile crosses Zeke’s face. “Go on,” he urges.

  “Anyway, Bone made these Arachnid drones that we maneuvered down a hole in the cave so we could remain anonymous.”

  “That was clever,” Ezekial says. “Very clever indeed.”

  I clear my throat. “Well, anyway, and this is the weird part, the time traveler seemed to know that we were there, you know—right in the cave!”

  “Can I ask how you knew this man was a time traveler?” Ezekial leans in, awaiting the answer.

  “Well, I guess Bone told us.”

  “So that’s why the time traveler transformed into a spider? Ya know, I do believe you.”

  “How can you believe me? I mean, this is an incredible story. I can’t imagine someone like you actually—”

  “Actually buying it. Is that what you were going to say?”

  Our eyes meet. This entire time, I had the eerie feeling that Zeke knew something—that he was holding cards that he wasn’t revealing.

  “Was there a note?” he asks.

  I shifted violently. “Now, how in the world did you know that?” I blurt out emphatically.

  “Did you find a sheet of paper that had the code word, Giza, on it?”

  I swallow hard. “My G-d! You’re the time traveler, aren’t you?”

  CHAPTER 14

  July 5, 2378

  1:13:30.5

  “Did I get your attention?”

  “Like a heart attack,” I respond. “Where are we?”

  “Actually, Michael, I know you didn’t notice, but I had to circle back a little bit … we’re still in Earth’s orbit. The simple answer is limbo, Michael. We’re nowhere, Michael, until I get an answer from you to a very important question.”

  “So what’s up? I don’t get it!” I fidget with my fingers. Obviously, Zeke has every intention of taking his time. I mean, like, something was lying really heavy on his mind. In the meantime, I’m seeing lights darting back and forth in the distance. I swallow, trying to keep my mind in focus, with a strange, steely concentration that I’ve acquired since the Giza fall.

  “You see, as a time traveler, my job is to get things right. Michael, I have to get things right; the universe depends on it. Do you understand?” Zeke’s face remains stern.

  “Sure, Zeke!” I respond.

  “And being an Eisenstein, even if you are a young one, you know that there are portals in space that open and close, right? You see, Michael, there are magnetic fields, all over Earth. These magnetic fields give rise to vortices and swirling masses of energy.

  “And?” I say. “I get that.”

  “Actually, Michael, when we speak about reality, all we’re talking about is an occurrence. These happenings can be recorded—you know, like something that is saved on a computer—or events can be deleted as if they never really existed.”

  I feel the spaceship lurch just as Zeke utters these words. “So that’s your job—to undo some of the wrongs in the world?” I say, forcing a smile.

  Zeke
glares at me with an ironclad determination. “Time wraps around, Michael; it doesn’t stay stagnant. And space wraps with it. That’s why we need to make a decision now, so we can undo the damage!”

  “So why me? Why me?” I repeat, feeling a sense of urgency.

  “Why you?” A stillness hangs around us. A quiet, sickening, shadowy truth looms like an open grave ready for the gravediggers to arrive.

  Zeke takes a long, lingering breath. “It’s because we’ve done this before—you and me!”

  A shot of adrenaline drives unmercifully through my body.

  “I’ve known you before—like in a different generation?”

  “No, Michael, not in a different generation; we’re going to have to fix the last one, got it? But I need your permission to go back! Yes or no? I’m going to need an answer now!”

  The rocket trembles in the air, as if it is about to crash and blow up into a million empty pieces.

  “I’ll do it!” I scream at the top of my lungs. The spacecraft lurches, entering a different portal—a portal in time that I had surreptitiously walked through before.

  Hyperspace? Check! Hypertime?

  The colors around me are brighter and more reflective than ever before. I can finally breathe. Time bends, curves, and even stops for a brief moment.

  July 5, 2378

  1:13:27

  “Have you ever experienced a hangover? No, not what you’re thinking; I’m talking about a space hangover!”

  My head throbs as though it’s been pressed in a vise. Then, for some strange reason, it blows up like a balloon again. That’s what it’s like to go hurtling through a time portal. Maybe it’s just God trying to tell time travelers that they’re just men, not spacecraft.

  Being an Eisenstein isn’t easy, ya know. I just wanted to kick off my shoes, put on some high-voltage, high-pitched music, and play my air guitar!

  I finally open my eyes. “Sorry, Zeke, I must have nodded off for just a little bit. I didn’t talk in my sleep, I hope! I have a tendency of doing that!”

  Zeke laughs out loud. “I don’t know; you called me something like a rocket’s ass, followed by calling me a Uranus!”

  For the first time in a while, I laugh really hard, allowing the stress of the last few days to seep out of me.

  “Thanks, Zeke!”

  “Thanks for what?”

  “Thanks for giving me another chance. But you still haven’t told me what I did wrong.”

  Ezekial runs his long fingers through his gray hair and then rhythmically strokes his prodigious beard.

  “I really can’t tell you; it’s a part of the time traveler code. Hope you understand,” he utters, winking.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, and to tell you the truth, once we’re done with our journey, it may be a while before you’re actually called on. Timing, Michael—timing is everything!”

  “So where are we now?”

  “We’re in the Triangulam Galaxy. It’s nicknamed the Spiral Galaxy. We’re three million light-years from Earth!” Zeke proclaims.

  “How many planets are in this galaxy?” I inquire.

  “Forty billion,” Zeke utters casually.

  “So how far is this galaxy from Andromeda?”

  “It’s just a mere two thousand four hundred fifty light-years—just a drop in the bucket.”

  “I see. And do you mind telling me where we’re going?”

  “We are on our way toward the dark side of the universe—a planet called VRX32, also referred to as Planet Vorashia. We’re going to have to make a few stops before we leave for Vorashia.

  Ezekial displays his prodigious pearly whites as we slowly descend upon a huge rock traveling through space. We need to regroup, pick up a vehicle, and just kick back before we see a friend of mine.

  “Where are we?”

  “It’s just an asteroid, Michael. a virtual way station before we move on. There’s one problem, though. I live in another dimension—the fourth dimension.”

  “What?”

  “Just remember one law, Michael: all is not as it seems!”

  CHAPTER 15

  July 5, 2378

  1:13:29 p.m.

  “Try these on!” Ezekial nudges me. “And no, you’re not Michael Skywalker!”

  “How did you know that?” I respond, shaking my head. “Oh… I forgot you can read minds too. But an asteroid—really?”

  This time, Ezekial grabs his stomach, chuckling like a hyena. “Yes, I understand this is a little much for you. Actually, I just use Gaspra as a way to mentally recharge, get a little rest, and notify a friend that I am coming.”

  “So you’ve been here before?”

  Ezekial sends a mind message to me this time.

  “I live here, Michael.”

  Ezekial rolls his hands forward as we both watch the craft lower. The sky is eerily black with the exception of some twinkling lights seemingly originating from a nearby dwarf planet.

  Zeke reads my mind once again. “That’s the planet Dali X66. And yes, Michael, there’s life all over the universe. Dali has a small population of people, probably about the size of New York City, living on their premises. Dalis are spiritualists; most of them live like isolated monks. When they actually talk, they’re highly interesting people.”

  “Did your parents ever tell you about a tele show called The Twilight Zone? The intro is something like, ‘You are now entering new and strange places, which exist on different times and dimensions.’ Anyway, Monica loves it and says Rod Serling was Mercury in Retrograde.”

  “Yes, Michael, you’re living in a real twilight zone, if it makes you feel any better.” Ezekial smirks. Then he points to the barren mass of rock beneath us.

  “We can stop here overnight. I think you’ll find your quarters quite comfortable.”

  “Here! Take this fast!”

  “What?”

  “It’s a bluish-red pill that will allow you to enter and tolerate a fourth-dimensional world. Hurry up; take it!” Zeke pleads. “No, I’m not trying to kill you! And yes, I heard your mind conjure that irrational fear.”

  “Can you please tell me why I have to take this pill?”

  “Because otherwise you’re going to become Alice entering wonderland; a fourth-dimensional world is a real trip, Michael. I think you’re going to like it!”

  My mind begins to reconstruct matter. I’m now observing objects being divided and dissected into millions pieces. It is as if nothing is solid anymore.

  “What you’re feeling is the work of this captivating dimension,” Zeke snickers. “It’s where I go to kick back and relax! And yes, even time travelers need to get away from it all!”

  I stare at my fingers, watching them divide into different entities, all circular in nature. “Are you sending me into an LSD trance?”

  “That would be a hallucinogen, Michael. What you’re experiencing is absolutely real. Now, don’t freak out on me, Michael! Actually, I didn’t have time to give you this pill before we entered the fourth dimension, so you are experiencing a few effects prematurely!”

  I see my nose break off into ten parts. I reach out with my hand, trying to swat one of the parts back.

  Zeke shakes his head. “Michael, just close your eyes until that pill begins to work! You look very silly!”

  “Do you mind telling me why you enjoy coming here?”

  “Really?” Zeke utters. A smile slowly creeps onto his face. “All right, here it is! A time traveler walks into a bar. The time traveler enjoys his food so much, he goes back for seconds!” Zeke begins cackling like a schoolgirl. I am afraid he is going to have a heart attack.

  “That’s really lame,” I say, “even for a phantom like you! No wonder you’re not a comedian!”

  “Think about it, Michael, where else can a time traveler go and actua
lly relax?”

  “You mean there are other TTs here?”

  “A few. Hey, is the pill working it yet?”

  “The most amazing thing begins occurring. My body commences to come together again. I’m no longer divided into a million fractions of myself. I watch as my fingertips slowly attach to my body.

  “No more disconnected appendages and errant blobs of flesh floating in the air?” Zeke comments with a cunning smile. The craft slowly descends onto a hunk of isolated rock.

  “I still don’t get it. Why are we here?”

  Ezekial strokes his brilliant manicured gray beard.

  “Home away from home,” Ezekial says, still appearing like a cunning cat. “You just have to get used to it. Actually, the fourth dimension is quite interesting.”

  Zeke slowly lowers the craft, preparing to land on a seemingly barren piece of rogue rock. Zeke shoots his hands upward, doing his best impersonation of an air guitarist. “You’re a real rock star!” I quip.

  “Lame!” Zeke utters mockingly. “But what you probably don’t know is that London’s Royal School of Art has discovered that Stonehenge holds amazing musical properties. When the rocks are struck, they sound like melodic gongs, bells, and drums.” Zeke smiles sarcastically. “Most asteroids are just small planets that orbit our solar system or other solar systems. They can have extremely tempestuous surfaces. We call those asteroids Neptune Trojans.”

  “And this asteroid?”

  “She’s just a puppy. I call this rock “Frizbee.”

  “You’re an odd time traveler. Do you get really bored when you’re dealing with us inadequate humans?”

  Zeke suddenly grows serious. “For starters, I am still human. It’s perhaps the most difficult challenge any creature can encounter—a true test!”

  I turn quickly toward him, examining his face. I see thin lines, but not too many, running vertically down his face. I wonder how many stories—how many difficult, nearly impossible situations—this man has encountered.

 

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