Paradox: On the Sharp Edge of the Blade

  Logan felt like he was in some kind of amusement park. He'd gone to the Raptor Encounter at Universal Studios and it had been lifelike, but this thing was even more realistic. He stepped forward in wonder, looking to see if there were cables or wires that powered it. It snorted again and slapped the heavy tail against its side, making a 'clunk' as it struck the armored shell of the chest-high beast.

  He stopped and jumped back. If that thing hit him, it would probably break his leg. The animal was huge, maybe weighing as much as a small horse. The creature spun, presenting its posterior to him. The tail moved back and forth viciously. It backed towards him, attacking in slow motion.

  At the farthest extent of its swing, the tail struck a palm trunk. The impact sounded like it was made with a sledgehammer. Logan quickly backed farther away, then turned and made a wide circle around the animal. It definitely wasn't some kind of animated machine.

  He racked his mind, trying to remember. He'd seen something like this thing once, a long time ago. It had been in a museum...that was it! It was a glyptotherium, a distant relative of the armadillo. The only thing was, it was extinct and had been so for thousands of years.

  He couldn't come to grips with its presence. Just to make sure, he looked around to see if anyone was watching, perhaps hiding in the palm trees, laughing at him. This had to be some sort of elaborate joke.

  There was no sign of anyone.

  The glyptotherium had lost interest in him as he moved away. Apparently believing that it had vanquished its enemy, it trundled towards some dense weeds, and began to munch on their stems.

  The smell of crushed plants wafted over Logan, followed by a far more offensive odor. He coughed. The stupid thing had suddenly passed an incredible amount of gas. It paused in its chewing, lifted its tail, and dumped a steaming load of manure in a large pile.

  To Logan it was like an offensive comment directed at him. He picked up a piece of rotten wood and hurled it at the creature. The missile bounced off its shell harmlessly. The animal didn't even stop eating.

  Feeling defeated, Logan turned towards the east. The ocean couldn't be too far away. At least there wouldn't be any snakes on the beach. He started walking, then stopped.

  Where were the houses? He'd been in his dad's front yard. He vaguely remembered falling into the drainage ditch. Now he was out in the woods somewhere. He didn't remember anything beyond landing on the ground in the ditch. There had been some sort of flash, hadn't there? Yes. He remembered that. Now where was he? He didn't feel like his mind was working correctly. That brownie...

  He looked around. Nothing but palms and weeds. Maybe if he found the ocean, he could decide which way to go to find help. There wasn't much undeveloped land along the shore. People had built on almost every foot. It wouldn't be hard to find someone to help him.

  He put the glyptotherium out of his mind. It was too unbelievable.

  Some time later, Logan pushed through a last fringe of scrub and reached the dunes. The sand was piled high at this point, separating the beach from the scrub-covered land. He slogged through some sea oats and up the sparsely covered slope, then stopped at the top.

  The ocean glinted in the long rays of the setting sun. Waves crested several hundred yards off the beach, and rolled in to fade into the wet sand. Some sanderlings dashed past, their short legs moving so rapidly they seemed like little clockwork birds.

  The beach looked just as it had the last time he'd been here, except for one major difference. There were no houses anywhere, neither to the north nor to the south. There was no sign that the beach had ever been occupied.

  He looked far to the south. He should be able to see the Vehicle Assembly Building at Kennedy from here, but there was nothing. He came to attention as he saw a distant object. It looked like a boat for a moment, but then he decided it was just a breaking wave.

  “What the hell happened to me?” he whispered. “Where is everyone?” He shook his head, rubbed the back of his neck, and then turned to face the north. There was something moving a long way down the beach. He squinted his eyes a little, trying to see more clearly. The wind was blowing hard from the east, carrying a fine mist of salt water that almost acted like fog, when one looked at distant objects.

  He walked along the top of the dunes for a hundred paces or so. The distant object became clearer. It looked like a sea turtle, heading inland. It was a little early in the evening. They generally waited until after dusk to come onshore and lay their eggs. This one was anticipating the sunset by at least an hour.

  He started to go closer, but suddenly stopped and dropped to the ground. A large cat, a lion or tiger, he couldn't see it well enough to tell, had appeared at the top of the dunes. It was looking down at the turtle at the moment, but he didn't want it to see him.

  He wondered if it was tame, or would it decide that he'd be easier prey than the turtle. At the moment, it was just watching the reptile. Either way, he felt paralyzed by fear.

  The cat came to a decision and trotted down the embankment towards the turtle. The sea creature turned and began laboriously heading back to the safety offered by the water, but it was too late.

  The big cat used one of its paws to flip the large reptile on its back. Then it set to work at ripping the softer under-shell open while the turtle waved its flippers frantically.

  Sea gulls clustered above, calling out in excitement. They hovered just above the cat, waiting for a chance to snatch at the dying turtle's insides.

  Logan was able to see a stripe-like pattern on its furry side and he noticed that it had a very short tail.

  It didn't really look like a tiger, but whatever it was, it was big enough to be dangerous. That was enough for him. He slid backwards into a lower spot, then crawled quickly towards the scrub and brush. He stopped as a horrible thought struck him. If there was one cat, or whatever it was, in the brush, there might be others. What if he walked right up to one, without noticing it?

  His hand unconsciously dropped to his waist where it encountered something hard. The knife was still in its sheaf on his belt. He took hold of the grip, drawing confidence from its solidity. It was designed for heavy work. The blade was thick and long enough to do serious damage to even something like the cat he'd seen. He suddenly had a warm feeling for Larry. His aversion to knives seemed less bothersome, now that he had a need for defense.

  He could see some taller trees in the near distance, inshore to the west. There were some pines mixed with some oaks. That might be the safest place. He could climb a tree. It was going to get dark soon, and there were no people about.

  He still couldn't figure that out.

  The sun was nearly down by the time he arrived at the trees. He'd been afraid to move too quickly. It wouldn't do to make too much noise.

  He'd been reduced to taking a few steps then pausing to listen. In this way, he reached the edge of the thicker brush. It was a little more open within the grove of trees. The shade seemed to keep the bushes from growing so thickly.

  He walked cautiously through the trees, looking for one that was climbable, but also high enough to offer some protection. He couldn't remember much about big cats, but he seemed to remember that they couldn't climb too well.

  It was quiet in the woods; just a light breeze feathering through the upper branches. Logan had gradually opened his senses to what he felt was an unprecedented maximum. In so doing, he realized that he normally walked around with his eyes half-unseeing, and his ears mostly closed. As for scent, he couldn't remember the last time he'd tried to detect something that way, but now his nostrils twitched to every breath of the breeze.

  Living around lots of people and traffic made it necessary to screen out distractions. Here, in this place, wherever it was, he felt that it was important to his survival to become as aware as possible. It was a somewhat mind-altering experience. He felt closer to nature, more aware, and despite the sense of danger, more at ease, almost peaceful.

  He gradually became aware that he was being
watched. He first felt a slight unease that intensified until he looked around. A fox was watching him from the shelter of a nearby bush. When he saw it, he jumped involuntarily and the animal disappeared. Logan looked around, feeling embarrassed. Foxes weren't dangerous as far as he knew, except maybe for rabies, but this one hadn't looked ill.

  There was nothing around the trees but some gray squirrels making small 'chucks' in the foliage and a few small birds. He took his time, finally deciding on a large oak. It had one huge limb that contacted another, smaller tree. The smaller tree, possibly a swamp magnolia, had enough branches that it would be relatively easy to scale. The oak branch descended in a long arch to touch the magnolia about twenty feet up. If he climbed to that point, then worked his way across the branch to the oak's trunk, the main fork might be a safe haven.

  He investigated the oak. It had a very thick trunk with no branches until the first high fork. That was at least thirty feet high. Crossing from the magnolia along the branch was the only way he could see that nearly any creature, except for a squirrel, could get up there. An active cat might climb the trunk, if its claws could hold on what was nearly a vertical surface. He hoped that the bark wouldn't support a tiger's weight and was reassured when he saw that the trunk was too large for any creature to wrap legs around it.

  The only problem was that climbing across the long branch was a frightening pathway. If he fell, he'd be almost certain to injure himself seriously.

  It was at that point that he heard a roar from only a few hundred yards away. The cat might have sensed him or not, it made no difference. By the time the echoes had faded, he was trying to edge off the magnolia onto the oak branch.

  The long branch first flexed downwards, then reached a point of equilibrium with his weight. Gingerly, he straddled the limb, and started scooting along it towards the big tree. He was about halfway there when he became aware that he was being watched from below.

  He stopped moving, frozen in shock, his mind locked on the huge striped cat that was staring fixedly at him. It couldn't exist.

  He wondered if he was still under the influence of the brownie. The creature watching him was large, almost lion or tiger-sized, and had a short tail like the one that had killed the turtle.

  That was bad enough, but the things that caused his mind to white-out in terror were the two saber-like canine teeth that hung down a good six inches on each side of the cat's muzzle.

  Logan clung to the branch desperately, feeling dizzy. It was a saber-toothed tiger. Such a thing couldn't be. They'd been extinct for thousands of years, but...he searched for alternate explanations.

  Maybe someone had found some viable DNA and cloned one, and it had escaped. But, he hadn't seen anything in the news about such a project. He always read the science articles, too.

  His mind started working along another line of thought. There were no houses on the beach; no sign of people anywhere. He remembered falling into the ditch in the dark. The second after he landed, it was daytime. What if he'd somehow fallen through a dimensional or temporal hole into another world? That kind of thing happened in fiction, why not to him?

  It was at that moment that the saber-tooth, tired of watching, leaped upward, reaching with its claws for his dangling feet. He yelped and watched it growing closer almost in slow motion. It stretched at the very top of its jump, reaching, but the claws fell short. The cat dropped to the ground, recovered, and snarled at him.

  The oak limb proved to be much easier to traverse after that. He moved steadily towards the fork of the big tree, the tiger pacing along below. Once he reached the fork, he eased off the branch and settled into the space between three large limbs. It was almost comfortable, save for the rough bark and the air plants that grew in the crevices.

  The saber-tooth hadn't given up. He was now out of jumping range, but it circled the trunk a couple of times, then decided to try and climb to where he was. It took a short running jump, leaped up ten feet, and scrabbled with its claws, gaining another eight feet before losing its grip.

  It dropped with another snarl, paused for a moment to re-evaluate the situation, then tried again. It made it a few feet higher, but fell off before it was within ten feet of his perch. He took a deep breath. If the oak had been shorter, he'd be supper right now.

  He pulled his knife and looked speculatively at it. The blade was maybe eight inches long. It was certainly heavy and long enough to kill the tiger, if the cat would only cooperate.

  He had a suspicion that it wouldn't care for that idea, and would be likely to work out its anger on him. No, stabbing it wasn't even a remote option. He'd just have to wait it out.

  The instant he thought of that, he realized that he had no water. The very idea made him thirsty. It had been hot; he'd been drinking beer and had eaten that damned brownie with whatever it was loaded with. He was thirsty now, and his sense of want was rapidly increasing.

  He broke off a chunk of bark and threw it down, striking the cat on the back of its head. It jumped and snarled, but didn't try to climb the tree again. Instead, it settled down a few feet away, looking like it was going to spend the night, its eyes fixed on him.

  He leaned back and closed his eyes miserably, wondering just what he'd done to deserve this.

  Chapter 8: ADAPTATION

  The moon was high, its bright rays shining through the oak leaves. The light made strange patterns and shapes on the ground between the dark shadows cast by the trees. The blotches of darkness seemed impenetrable, making it impossible to see what lurked below.

  Despite his thirst, Logan had managed to sleep. He wasn't sure how long it had been, but the moon was now nearly overhead. It hadn't risen when he had dropped off to sleep.

  He carefully studied the ground. There was no sign of the big cat. Perhaps it had left, looking for other prey. Surely there was something somewhere else to attract it, something easier to catch than one scrawny human in a tree.

  For a time, he considered the idea of climbing down to look for water, but rejected it. Even with the moonlight, he couldn't see well enough to be sure that the cat wasn't down there, hiding, waiting for him to make a stupid move.

  He was uncomfortable. The tree seemed to be intent on impressing every nuance of its rough bark on his posterior. Changing position every thirty minutes or so made the fork of the branches barely tolerable. Thirst bothered him more and more as the stars wandered towards sunrise. All in all it was an amazingly long and restless night.

  Logan had always slept late, but now he wished the sun would rise quickly. He was beginning to think that the world had stopped revolving. When that idea first popped up, he snickered. Then he considered his situation.

  He was in a tree, trying to avoid some kind of big and really toothy cat thing, and trying to hold out until morning so he could get a drink. He'd been in the front yard, fallen into the drainage ditch, and then this place had somehow grabbed him. He hadn't consciously wanted to come here.

  He'd...Oh! He'd wanted to escape that woman. Before that he'd eaten that brownie. Maybe something in it had given – maybe was still giving him a bad trip.

  She'd said it was very strong. Still this didn't seem like a hallucination. Everything was too real. It had that unmistakable feeling of reality, not like a dream or any kind of altered state of consciousness.

  Whatever had happened to thrust him into this situation, it was beyond his understanding. It may have been related to the brownie or it may simply have been chance. It seemed that somehow he'd fallen through a hole, ending in another world, or...another time.

  The cat-creature gave one clue. He hadn't looked too closely at it, being more concerned with avoiding its jumps, but it had a tawny, sort of stripey coat and a short tail. The most obvious feature was its huge teeth. He'd thought that it reminded him of a saber-tooth tiger, but they were extinct. Only maybe not in this place. Maybe here they still prowled around looking for people to eat.

  He shortly gave up trying to figure out what had happened. In
a sense it didn't matter. He was here now and he had to learn how to survive until he could get back to where he'd come from. It really was that simple.

  The idea crossed his mind that he might not be able to go back, but he shoved that concept away. That wasn't something he wanted to consider.

  By this time it was getting light. The sun was peeping over the horizon out at sea. Its light was gradually infiltrating the foliage that surrounded him. Somewhere a bird started up, singing its morning song. The song quickly changed, and then changed again. It was a mockingbird; had to be. Nothing else sang so many songs at peak volume.

  He heaved a sigh of relief. At least he was still on Earth. He'd feared for a moment that he might be on another planet. All he'd had to go on was the impossible cat of the saber-tooth variety. A mockingbird was at least familiar. It made the place seem very Florida-like, despite the lack of people and houses.