Sync: Caulborn 1.5

by Nicholas Olivo

  I stared into the writhing entropic force that swirled in the hourglass. I tapped on the face of my stolen watch, obliterating the tachyon around me. My head spun as I concentrated on the currents within that darkness. As possibilities unfolded before my eyes, I focused on the individual microscopic bits of chaos.

  And then I used my telekinesis to slow them down.

  “Stop that!” the demon shrieked. “Stop it now!”

  Time has to flow. That’s one thing that sets time apart from everything else in the universe. You can negate gravity or magnetism, but time has to move. Sure, you can pause time, but that takes a hell of a lot of effort, and time, unlike everything else in the universe, doesn’t stay at rest. A ball can roll across the table, and then it stops due to friction, but it’s still moving through time. And the timestream itself can be temporarily dammed up, but it’s going to push against that dam until it’s flowing again. My instincts told me that the entropy was just a pollutant in the timestream. If I could stop the entropy’s motion completely, it would be like freezing it. And when something in a stream freezes, it rises to the top.

  The demon was screaming in every language at once; every tongue that had ever been or would be spoken. Blood dripped from my nose, and I wiped it away on my sleeve. Three-dozen spectral versions of my arm moved in conjunction with the real one, each moving just a hair differently than the last. “You know something, you do deserve a name. How about Shithead? Sound good?” The entropy stopped moving. It turned into a solid mass. The timestream surged around it, shattering past it.

  “I will destroy you!” the demon screamed.

  “How?” I asked, completely serious. “You said it yourself, you’ve got no physical form. Hell, you don’t even have an incorporeal form. What are you going to do, think mean thoughts at me?”

  I really need to learn to keep my mouth shut. Images and pain exploded behind my eyes. I saw madness and chaos and wrath. Ages of darkness and hate bore into my brain. Frustration, anger, and fury, the likes of which cannot be described, tore through my sanity. I was on my knees, tears rolling down my face. When it stopped, my arms were wrapped around my torso, and I was humming “Mary Had a Little Lamb.”

  “Repair what you have done, godling, and I will finish it quickly.”

  “Fuck you,” I whispered. More pain. More suffering. Three or four lifetimes’ worth blasted into my mind in a heartbeat. I screamed. “All right, all right, enough!” I sobbed. I wish I could say that the crying was an act, but I was clinging to sanity by a thread. I wondered if H.P. Lovecraft had ever met Laplace’s demon, because I could totally see this guy playing Cthulu.

  The influx of suffering stopped, and I lay on my stomach, wheezing. I flopped about for a moment, trying to get my hands and knees under me. Drops of blood splattered against the nothingness that served as a floor here. My ears rang and dancing lights flittered across my vision. My throat ached from all the screaming. “Now,” the demon said, “we will watch time be reborn together. It will be an adventure for both of us. You and I share a connection, Vincent Corinthos. We both can see all possibilities, and now we will see a new blessedly unknown universe created.” We shared a connection? I supposed we had; he had been inside my head after all. “Now, godling, repair the damage you have done that we may usher in this new age.”

  He must’ve thought he’d broken me. Truth be told, he’d come damned close. I struggled to my feet and walked drunkenly toward the Entropic Glass. I glanced at the watch from the Entropics. It had been able to attract tachyon and entropy. I tapped its face a couple of times. Ahead, the Entropic Glass shimmered darkly as the trapped entropy tried to move against the telekinetic fields I’d created. This was concentrated entropy from all time, way beyond the amount normally in the timestream. Just letting it go back into the timestream would be a disaster. However, the entropy had to go somewhere, and I had a pretty good idea where to send it.

  I placed my hands against the glass, gradually weakening my telekinetic barriers. I felt the solidified entropy begin to melt, to turn back into that black liquid sludge that I’d seen run up into Abraham’s head. I held a telekinetic membrane between the entropy and the timestream, which I allowed to lessen to a dangerously thin layer.

  “Good,” the demon’s voice was dripping with satisfaction. Its tone was nearly sexual, and my stomach clenched at the sound of it. Note to self: if I survive this, dunk mind in bleach. I tapped the watch one last time. This had better work.

  I dispersed my earlier telekinetic conjuring. The barrier vanished and the entropy began swirling like a cyclone. The demon sighed in bliss. When I’d touched the glass earlier, I sensed that it was a completely closed environment; there was absolutely nothing to Open.

  But that didn’t mean it couldn’t be broken.

  I sent wave after wave of telekinetic force into the glass. It vibrated wildly, toppling onto its side. The wrath of the demon came a moment later, and it took everything I had to concentrate on keeping the vibrations going. Half delirious, I actually began to sing. “Good, good, good, good vibrations,” I rasped. The glass exploded around me. Shards of glass and entropy tore past me and through me. A huge chunk of something took me in the stomach, and more fragments tore across my face. It was like breathing into a sandblaster. Fire lanced across my body, through my eyes, and down every nerve I possessed. The sounds of my screams reverberated in the nothingness all around me as I plunged my left hand into the swirling, inky blackness. The entropy, attracted by the watch, bore directly into my mind.

  And I redirected that into the demon’s.

  That’s the nasty thing about opening a connection into someone else’s mind. You have to be careful, because doors go both ways. The energies assailing me vanished as the entropy burrowed into the demon’s mind. “Didn’t see that coming, did you, Sparky?” I cried wildly. “How’s this for a new experience?” After eons, the demon’s screams turned to babbling gibberish. Its vast intelligence shattered, I sensed the demon slinking away from me. I let out a sigh of immense relief as the connection vanished. I didn’t think Laplace’s demon would bother anyone for a very long time.

  I hastily shut off the watch. I didn’t need any more chaos in my life, thanks. The timestream reconnected to the central clock. There was a brilliant flare of light and my head swam. When it cleared, I was seated in a padded chair at a desk, facing a monitor with a Firefly screensaver. Obi Wan Kenobi and Darth Vader action figures were carefully arranged to recreate their final duel. Huey Lewis was coming from my Pandora station. I blinked a few times and rubbed my head. I was back in my office. The clock on the wall said it was half past ten; that was just a few minutes before we’d gotten the call from the dragon telling us about the stolen art. I smiled. Of course now, that “theft” would never have happened. With the timestream repaired, the art would be right back where it was supposed to be. I glanced over at my leather bomber, hanging in pristine condition on its hook by the door. I turned my hands over and then felt my face and stomach; no signs of injury. The watch I’d taken from the Chroniclers was gone too.

  I pulled out my phone, shot a quick “I love you” text off to Petra, and was rewarded with a “Love you too” a few moments later. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The important things were back to normal.

  “Hey, partner,” Megan said as she walked in.

  “I’d love to go to Dunkin’s,” I said as I stood and grabbed my coat.

  “How’d you know I was going to say that?” she asked, her dimple making an appearance. “Am I that predictable?”

  I winked at her. As we left the office, I saw a man in a ragged black leather jacket leaning on a mailbox. “Excuse me for a second, Meg.” I walked up to Wheatson.

  “Nicely done, Corinthos,” Wheatson said as he clapped me on the shoulder. “You saved time itself. The Tempus, grudgingly, is in your debt.” He sm
iled. “Though he was right pissed at being left in that desert.”

  I grinned and spread my hands. “I’m just glad that’s over. But why does he hate me so much? And what was with that tachyon crap? And who the hell was the Mentem? Come on, Wheatson, out with it. You promised me answers.”

  Wheatson’s eyes twinkled. “You’re right, I did say that.” He held up his right index finger. “But I didn’t say right after.” He jammed his finger onto his watch and vanished in a shimmering haze.

  “Bastard,” I said with a smile. I rejoined Megan.

  “What was that all about?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I was hit by a moment of panic. Sure, Wheatson had just told me that time was back to normal, but I wanted proof. “Hey, Meg, what do you know about Leonardo da Vinci?”

  “Da Vinci? Practically everything. I took a course on his influence in the Renaissance back in college. Did you know that he invented the machine gun? He even developed the world’s first robot.” Megan continued a litany of Leonardo’s genius, and I smiled. Yep, everything was back to normal.

  Author’s Note

  I hope you’ve enjoyed this Caulborn adventure. I’d love to know what you thought about it, so please consider leaving a review or sending a note to nick@nicholasolivo.com. Also, be sure to go to www.nicholasolivo.com and subscribe to my newsletter to keep up to date on when the next installment will be available.

  Cheers,

  Nicholas Olivo

  Also by Nicholas Olivo

  The Caulborn Series

  Imperium

  Krampusnacht

  Sync

  Promise

  Shadows

  The Doc Graystone Adventures

  Red Runes

  A Watery Grave

  Masks of Mayhem

  The Jewel of Shambhala

  The Crimson Mantis