David furrowed his brow and looked at Emily. Her expression told him that she was every bit as puzzled as he was.
“Hasn't been occupied by corporeal beings?” she inquired of their escorts. “The being we just saw was non-corporeal? The city is inhabited by non-corporeal beings?”
Yes, the city is inhabited by non-corporeal beings. They are here among us. You both may be wondering why you have not encountered more of them. They can be seen, but they do not wish to be seen. They are a very solitary species, choosing to exist only among themselves and each other. They are very wary of outsiders. As such, they choose to remain hidden among the shadows.
They turned left, then right, left, then right. That last right brought the base of the tower into view for the first time. As awe-inspiring as the tower itself was from their position, it was what surrounded the tower that caused David to stop the moment he laid eyes upon it―a massive, shimmering moat. It was a tremendous amount of water, essentially a lake with a tower jutting up from its center. It appeared to be a natural body of water with the tower having been erected in the center of the lake for protection against someone or something...or a multitude of someones or somethings. The sight was both beautiful and terrifying, the rays of the planet's twin full moons shimmering on the lengthy expanse of water providing a stark contrast to the towering, jagged blade seemingly thrust from the depths of the water by some unseen giant hand to pierce the sky.
After a brief moment to stop and take in the view, they were led to the water's edge.
Noting the fact that there wasn't a bridge, a boat or any other conceivable way to cross, David said, “I'm not a very good swimmer.”
As if in response to David's quip, a path of water, stretching from the outer shore to the tower, began to rise and separate from the surrounding lake. In the short time it took David to silently question the plausibility of a bridge made of water, the water cascaded down to the lake below, leaving an ebony stone bridge in its wake.
Their luminous escorts led them onto the bridge. David watched Emily run her hand along the top of the short stone wall on the right side of the bridge. He took note of her whimsical expression. Despite the intensity of the situation, she was able to find serenity in it. It was a gift that he wished he had.
Whispers. Indecipherable, but they'd all heard them. The entire group turned in unison. A small gathering of, what appeared to be, three-dimensional translucent shadows were standing near the foot of the bridge...watching them, whispering. Whether they were whispering among themselves or to one or more among he and his traveling companions, David didn't know. If they were attempting to communicate to one or more members of his group, David wanted to hear what they had to say.
Emily must have been on the same page, as she took a step toward the three-dimensional shadows only to have one of their luminous escorts raise an arm to stop her.
It is not safe.
Emily looked askance at the being but heeded its warning.
Another of their escorts took a couple of aggressive steps toward the three-dimensional shadows. David stared wide-eyed as the shadowy beings quickly dispersed, morphing into individual clouds of black smoke and coming together as one cloud before retreating into the city.
“Well, that was...interesting,” David remarked ironically. “You, of course, saw that, right?”
“Of course I saw it. I'm your kind of crazy, remember?”
“They were afraid,” David said softly. “They're non-corporeal beings. Why would they be afraid of you?” he asked, raising his voice so that their escorts could hear. “I mean, you can't do them any physical harm.”
You are correct. We cannot do them any physical harm. They are beings of pure consciousness. We are telepathic.
David eyed the being that stepped aggressively toward the three-dimensional shadows as it approached him, returning to its position at the back of the group.
David, your demeanor indicates that you are skeptical.
David threw his hands up and shrugged. He glanced around at the luminous beings within his field of vision, reminding himself that they were all speaking to him simultaneously. “You haven't given us anything to be skeptical about. You haven't told us very much.”
Our history with the inhabitants of that city goes back thousands of your Earth years. Yes, they fear us, just as we have feared them. That is the nature of conflict. Trust us when we tell you that it is in our best interest and your best interest for the city's inhabitants to fear us. If they did not fear us, they would have attacked us. They would have attacked you.
David felt a tug on his shirt sleeve. “Come on,” Emily urged him softly.
David turned and gazed into her tentative eyes before walking past her. Those eyes had told him all he needed to know about Emily's feelings on the matter. She knew something was not quite right about their situation, but blustering about it at that point in time wasn't going to help them. She didn't even need to say it. She just needed to look at him. She was right. He knew she was right. She was always right.
They were halfway across the bridge, the base of the tower growing, filling his field of vision. He didn't look left, didn't look right, didn't look up or down. His eyes remain fixed on the base of the tower. But he wasn't really seeing it; he was seeing what was inside of it. And what he was seeing was cold, dark and bleak. What else could he expect to find in a tower that looked as if it were built to pierce the heavens?
Three-quarters of the way across the bridge, he couldn't see anything but the black of the tower's exterior.
Reaching the end of the bridge brought David his first glimpse of a break in the tower's black exterior―a pinprick of light at the end of the proverbial dark tunnel. Salvation in the distance. It may have been a pinprick of light, but it was brilliant, casting off more than enough light to illuminate the ground at the foot of the bridge.
They stepped from the bridge. Trimmed, green, healthy grass brushed the soles of their shoes as they walked toward the light.
Entranced. David came to the realization that he was in a self-imposed trance. He shook his head, looked at Emily. She returned the look and smiled.
“Almost there,” she said whimsically.
“Salvation?”
She furrowed her brow and eyed him curiously. “You okay?”
He smiled sheepishly and nodded. “Mm-hm.”
Emily chuckled. “It's not salvation; it's the entrance.” She gazed at the growing white light. “I'm assuming.”
It is both.
David glanced around at their luminous escorts before, once again, settling his eyes on the growing white light. He briefly considered asking them what they meant but thought better of it. He would find out soon enough.
The light was warm, inviting, a stark contrast to the darkness they'd left behind. Ironically, the warm, inviting light was a stark contrast to the very tower from which the light emanated.
It was just then, as if in response to his silent observation, that the surface of the tower appeared to change. Its trademark dark exterior began to shift before his very eyes. The change was dramatic but slow. The tower's dark tone was lifting, taking on something brighter. It suddenly occurred to him that it wasn't the tone of the tower itself that was shifting; it was his perspective that was changing. He was growing ever closer to the tower, and as he grew ever closer to the tower, the darkness that was merely reflected in the tower's surface from the surrounding city began to lift, revealing the tower for what it really was―an engineering marvel the likes of which David had never witnessed. The surface was something akin to a mirror. That would be the closest approximation, but it didn't do the surface justice; it didn't come close. The surface of the tower didn't merely reflect its surroundings; it seemed to pull them in, absorb them. But it was nothing more than a camouflage. It was only when the viewer was relatively close that the tower's camouflage vanished and the tower's beauty and opulence were revealed.
David had to stop and admire the structur
e. He didn't need to ask Emily to stop and admire it. She was way ahead of him.
“I would say it's breathtaking,” Emily said, craning her neck to take in the upper half of the tower, “but that just wouldn't...uh...wouldn't...”
“Wouldn't do it justice?”
“Yeah, that's it.”
“What's the point?” David wondered aloud. “I mean, if something this beautiful can't be seen from afar, what's the point?”
“I don't know. I'm sure our friends here can provide an answer.”
Only the righteous are welcomed into the Kingdom. Only the righteous are given the privilege of basking in the Kingdom's beauty. You have been given that privilege. Those who inhabit the city behind you have not been given that privilege, and they never will.
“The kingdom?” Emily challenged. “It's a tower, a majestic one at that, but it's not much of a kingdom.”
It is not a kingdom; it is the only kingdom; therefore it is the Kingdom. That is its title. Furthermore, kingdoms come in all shapes and sizes. Some kingdoms exist horizontally, some vertically. This one exists vertically.
“Sorry,” David said. “I've just never heard of a vertical kingdom before.”
Well, now you have.
“What makes us so special?” David queried cynically. “Why have we been given the privilege of seeing the Kingdom for what it really is?”
We cannot tell you very much. It is not our place. What we can tell you is that you have been invited. However, we did not invite you. The one who invited you will be able to answer any questions you have.
David and Emily gazed questioningly into one another's eyes. David mouthed, The one? Emily responded with a shrug.
“May we ask who the one is?” Emily inquired, her tone soft and diplomatic.
You may ask, but we cannot tell you. You will find out soon enough. The one who invited you is waiting patiently for your arrival at the top of the Kingdom. If you did not stop to admire the Kingdom's exterior and ask questions that we cannot answer, you would have already discovered the answers for yourselves.
The luminous beings began moving toward the entrance.
“Did they just cop an attitude with us?” David whispered.
“Yeah, they were a bit snarky,” Emily whispered her reply.
We can hear you.
David rolled his eyes, and Emily smiled, biting her lower lip to keep from laughing. Weird was indeed par for the course.
The entrance was wide. Brightly lit would be an understatement. But despite their close proximity to the wide and extremely well-lit entrance, David couldn't see through it. What lay on the other side of the entrance remained a mystery.
The luminous beings at the front of their group stepped through the entrance and vanished. They appeared to become one with the light.
David and Emily stopped before the entrance.
“It's not just me, right?” David asked, his eyes scanning the wall of light.
“No. The light itself seems to be the entrance. It's like...a barrier of some kind.”
David reached out, pressed his fingers into the light. He didn't feel anything. He pushed his arm through, held it there for a moment, then pulled it back. “Yeah, a visual barrier,” he confirmed. He looked at Emily, then back at the entrance. “Well, should I do the honors?”
“Nope.”
Without another word, Emily stepped through the entrance and vanished from David's sight.
David grinned. “All right then.”
He followed Emily's lead, stepped through the entrance and was treated to a view unlike any he had ever seen before and unlike any he could have expected. Emily was standing a few meters away, facing him, her arms extended wide, her face aglow. She was enthralled, her form framed by the radiance of their surroundings. The immense room was a suitable match for the luminous beings that brought them to this place. The walls, floor and ceiling were white, radiating a warm, orange-hued glow.
“Have you ever seen anything like it?” Emily called to him.
David studied the room. A series of tubes extending from floor to ceiling a few meters behind Emily. A few chairs and couches here and there, white and radiating that warm, orange-hued glow to match the rest of the room. A statue of some kind off to his right.
“No,” David finally responded, so softly that he wasn't sure Emily heard him. “I haven't.”
She began to spin, her arms wide, and stopped suddenly. Her arms dropped. Her smile faded. Her brow furrowed. She had caught sight of something. David followed her gaze. The statue. She was looking at the statue.
She marched toward it, David close on her heels. That's when he saw what Emily saw: the depiction of a woman who looked remarkably familiar.
They both stopped a couple of meters before the statue and gaped at it. It wasn't just familiar; it was uncanny. They looked quizzically at one another before taking a few more steps toward the statue.
It towered over them. Its features were unmistakable, a thick mane of curly locks, glasses and, the clincher, a scar that ran from its right ear to the corner of its mouth. It was a poised depiction, regal. A white marble depiction of Emily with her arms crossed over her chest, bathed in that orange-hued glow.
David was dumbfounded. Just when he thought things couldn't get weirder. He couldn't begin to imagine what Emily was thinking. He turned to her just in time to watch her do a quick, indignant one hundred eighty degree pivot toward their companions.
“No!” she barked at them. “What the hell is this?!”
This is you.
“Well, that much is obvious, but what the hell am I―” She gestured wildly over her shoulder. “―doing here?!”
Your confusion is understandable, but as we have already stated, all of your questions will be answered when you meet the one who has invited you here.
“Oh, good!” she bellowed. “Let's go meet the one who has invited us here!”
If you will follow us.
The luminous beings turned and walked toward the row of tubes. Emily marched behind them. David hesitated a moment before tailing Emily as if he were one of her minions. He was beginning to feel like he was in the presence of royalty. Hand to the Queen.
David didn't really need a close-up look at the tubes to know they were elevators. He, Emily and one of their luminous escorts stepped into the first tube. There was just enough room in the perfectly cylindrical elevator for the three of them. The door slid silently shut.
Anticipation time. Moment of truth.
Their luminous escort ran its hand over a touchscreen panel, and before David had any idea that the elevator had moved, the door was sliding open to reveal a white, luminous corridor.
Their luminous escort extended its arm, gesturing for the couple to exit. They stepped out of the elevator hand in hand. Their luminous escort did not follow them.
Emily and David turned to face it.
“Are we supposed to know where we're going?” Emily queried.
There is only one way to go. Just follow the corridor until you reach your destination.
With that, the tube's door slid shut.
“Awesome,” David muttered.
“Moment of truth.”
They turned simultaneously, the long, luminous corridor stretching off into the distance with, presumably, the one who invited them waiting at the end of that long, luminous corridor.
“Moment of truth indeed,” David agreed. He took Emily's hand. “Shall we?”
They stepped together, their inside feet touching the corridor floor simultaneously. Pause. Their outer feet crossed their inner feet and touched simultaneously. Pause. Each step was a slow, steady beat...or a countdown; it reminded David of a countdown. And countdowns usually didn't end very well.
David suddenly had a flash, a vision, a memory. Dorothy, Toto, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion slowly, methodically marching down the corridor, shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm, toward their salvation...or their doom. At that point in the story, the
y didn't know which of those outcomes were waiting for them. But they took their chances, for what choice did they have?
David and Emily, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand, marching slowly, methodically down their very own corridor, toward their very own Wizard. But what did their Wizard represent, salvation or doom? Only one way to find out.
Moment of truth.
Step after methodical step. The anticipation was beginning to take its toll on his nerves. Anticipation sucks! Part of him wanted to run to the end of the corridor and get it over with already, but the other part of him, the part that made his legs move, was perfectly fine with the slow, methodical pace.
The corridor―so long, so bright, he couldn't even make out the end. He squinted. Nothing. Too darn bright.
A few more steps would reveal something. A turn in the corridor, the end of the corridor. Something. Anything.
Hearts hammering. Bodies trembling.
Just a few more steps. Just a few more slow, methodical steps.
Then it appeared. The end of the corridor off in the distance. The end of the line.
They paused, looked at one another, looked toward their destination and stepped...and stepped again. They picked up their pace. One quick step after another, the anxiety to finally reach their destination and find out just who it was that had invited them to this place trouncing their anxiety to turn tail and run.
The end of the line loomed closer with each frantic step. At the end of that line was a door, a big white door. And on the other side of that door was the one who had invited them.
Those frantic steps elongated. They were trotting, then running, never letting go of one another's hands.
They neared the door, slowed to a trot, a brisk walk and stopped. They had arrived.
They looked wide-eyed at one another, then back at the door. A touchscreen panel at the side of the door. Emily reached for it, but it wasn't necessary. The door slid open.
A large white, circular room. A sunken center. Two semi-circular couches. And on one of those couches...a man. Not a luminous being. A man. A human being.
He stood. He turned. He faced them.
Middle-aged. Dark skin. 21st Century casual Earth clothes. Slacks, button-down shirt. He looked to be Latino. He looked very familiar.
The Perfect Moment in Peril Page 16