In searing pain, I made my way to my hands and knees, drawing upon my mortal strengths for the first time since my arrival. Then, with an equal amount of effort, I ventured to stand. The broken wing hung from my back, making it exceedingly difficult to gain my balance. I would not be able to stand for long, but needed to move around as much as possible to keep my muscles from tightening up.
I shuffled back and forth, back and forth, each step a tremendous effort. I paced for hours it seemed. And as time dragged on, my muscles ached more and more.
Finally, I had to sit. I found a small block of cement near a wall, and used it as a chair. The pain from my wing no longer bothered me-- the aching in my limbs far exceeded it. I leaned back, and let my body go limp.
Hours melted into each other, and pain was my only companion. I no longer had any perception of body. I was just pain, floating in darkness. Even the nasty stench had melted away into my experience. Humans have a way of coping with stress, and I had reached my threshold many times over.
As hours, and then days passed, I searched every nook, every angle of my pen, but I couldn’t even find the door. I must have circled the room a thousand times, but all the walls felt the same. With meticulous precision, I trolled back and forth across the room, looking for items on the floor, but found nothing. Still I could not be certain I had covered every spot, the darkness was too complete. I hoped my eyes would eventually get used to the darkness, but there wasn’t a drop of light to work with.
As the madness began to grow, my motivation dwindled. After a while, even time was meaningless. Then I waited, as the pain disappeared completely. I was sad to see it go, it was all I had to remind me I was still alive. Now I was nothing more than a ghost, as large as the universe, or as small as an atom. I wondered how long this could go on. There was no hunger, no need for sleep. I simply existed. And that was all.
In my free-floating mind, I thought of all the possibilities of this place called Vrin. I thought of Humphrey’s concepts and of Dr. Solomon’s experiment. I thought of the wizard, Arganis, and his ancestral roots of magic. There was the world of Vrin surrounded by a spirit world called Dantra, and The Circle of Ghosts connecting the two. Then there was the infamous Kric’ tu, commanding the threadless beasts of the vortex. What did it all mean? Or did it have meaning? Were there supernatural forces at work in this world? Or was it all a computer glitch?
And what about the frozen figure in the capital? What was his name? It eluded me, but I could see his face in my mind. I realized now, that looking at him was like looking into my own memory, as if I had once sat at the same table, reading the same book, by the same fire. That was why seeing him had effected me so profoundly. But this new found realization brought no relief. It only deepened the mystery.
Thoughts of Kitaya floated to the surface. In this whole experience, she had made the most positive impression. She was so lovely, so full of life. I cared for her with a longing that made my chest constrict. We could never be together now. Somewhere in the darkness, my fist tightened. She was unreachable, even if I could find my way out of this cell.
A faint sobbing broke into my perception. And once it started, it did not cease. Sobs echoed off every recess of my tomb. What I perceived as my face was replaced by a cold lake of sadness.
Before my empty vision, my days in Vrin played out in vivid detail. It hadn’t occurred to me before, because I wouldn’t admit it, even to myself, but I truly wanted to be a god. Although I had shown constraint with Thana, I could not fight the desire to use the power. Something deep inside me wished for it.
I was given many opportunities to see this world for what it was, yet I had remained willfully ignorant. Each inconsistency in the program, and each talk with the outside, made my foolishness complete. I knew I was no god, yet I chose a lie over the truth! I was here, because of my own arrogance, my own pride.
I had reached the end of myself.
“God?” My voice was dry and weak. “I don’t remember the last time I talked to you-- or if I've ever talked to you-- so I’m not very good at this.” I choked out the words. “I-just want to say, if you can hear me, I need your help. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
Somewhere in the emptiness, I felt a squeeze. I waited. There it was again! I tried to localize the sensation, then it came to me. Scratch! I had forgotten all about my little friend.
“Hello, Thomas,” came a voice from the other side of the room. Kric’ tu had called me that, but this was not Kric’ tu's voice. “Do not be frightened. I’ve come to bring you home.”
Home? My chest quivered with emotion. Was this another trick? The voice was not familiar, but the inflection in it was. I had heard the gentle tones before.
“You are experiencing disorientation. That is understandable, but it is over now.”
I squinted into the darkness. “Who...?” I whispered.
“I have many names, but for now, you may call me Scratch.” He chuckled.
I felt for the ring. It was still on my finger.
“That is merely the host God made for me.”
“God made for you?” I whispered.
“Yes, you don’t remember, because this world keeps the memories from you, but when you were brought to Vrin for the first time, he knew I could not exist in your new body, so he created a ring for me. At times I tried to contact you, but your hatred drove me away. Hatred is contrary to my nature.”
I remembered the canyon, and the figure in the woods. “Was that you in the canyon, and the forest?”
“Yes. I exited the ring to speak with you, but returned because it hurt me to be exposed to your hatred. You hate Gaza very much.”
“Why do you stay at all?”
“You are a complex being, and I am a part of who you are. I can't leave you, Thomas. I am you.”
“I don't understand.”
“The complexity of God's creation is beyond your current awareness.”
My weakened mind groped for the answers. “You have come-- to take me home?” I said weakly.
“Yes.”
“Why did you wait so long?”
“I did not wait, God waited.”
“What?” I could barely get the word out.
“It wasn’t him. It was you. You finally called out to him. He wanted to help, but he waited until you realized your need for him. It had to be your choice. Our choice.” The room began to fill with light, and I saw him for the first time, a million tiny marbles, and in each glass orb, a brilliant light. “It is time to go.”
“But I have more questions.”
“I know you do, but the angels of God are holding off the forces of evil. We must go now.”
I felt dizzy, then in an instant, found myself peering through his eyes. We had fused together, and I was now complete. Looking down down at the broken body on the floor, I and was disgusted at the wretch I had become.
My essence began to rise up, through the dungeons, through the castle, out into the air above. Below, I could see the battle still raging. They had lied to me, which meant there was a chance that Armadon had made it to Gaza. I wanted to go there and see, but was unable to fight against the force acting upon me. There was a superior purpose in its design, and there was no arguing with it.
I continued to rise higher and higher, until the people below were nothing more than specks on the open battlefield. As I moved closer to the clouds, I realized, for the first time, they were not clouds at all, but a projection moving across a large sphere. I flinched as I passed through.
Outside the sphere, love and light surrounded me like water. Its current flowed through me, filling me with peace. It was a familiar feeling; I had been here before.
I travelled up a blue strand at a blistering pace, and Vrin grew smaller and smaller in the vast cavern of shifting light. Upon its surface, currents of electricity arced, like blue liquid fire boiling.
To my left, a movement caught my eye. It was at first beautiful, then horrific. Brilliant bursts of light, which
should have blinded me, exploded not far from where I ascended. Colors beyond description shot forth in all directions. The beings of light were at war, but why? They collided with awesome force, creating an unimaginable shock wave. Were these the angels of God?
I looked up. High above was a gray, bumpy, stone ceiling. As I got closer, tiny pinholes became visible. The pinholes became pores, then the pores became tunnels. Billions of them, stretching off to either side as far as the eye could see.
I rushed into one of them at a dizzying pace, straight into the heart of the porous rock. Everything became a blur, and the walls slowly melted away into space and thought, until there was nothing left of form.
It was here-- that my memories returned.
CHAPTER 16
EARTH
001001011001110
Memories, like a mottled collage of faint footage filled my mind. I knew at once, all that I was, and the universe made sense. It was the perfect plan of a perfect Creator. I was amazed at its simplicity.
I saw the study at the mansion, but it was not the same place. It was clear to me now. The mansion had belonged to my grandparents, Jason and Rebecca Tardin. We stayed with them on weekends when I was young. My brother and I would play for hours in the warm study. It was my safe place. As long as I was there, I would not be harassed by the bullies in the neighborhood. They liked to pick on me because I was different-- because I was smart.
Another memory came to me, sharp and painful. “Becca! Stay away from the street!” My daughter looked back at me in her sweet innocence. Lost in her own world, it took her a second to respond. Hers was the curious age of five, and she was excited to be in the crowded city. I watched until she lost interest in the street and began exploring the various novelties of a nearby vendor.
Her mother joined her to look at some jewelry. She’d been sitting on a bench nearby, tired from carrying the extra weight of our unborn son. “Stay close to me, sweetheart,” said Annie, reaching out with a gentle hand to pull her in.
I turned back to the man I had been talking to. “So how much for the painting?”
“It’s a work of art, man, I couldn’t let it go for less than fifty dollars.”
I looked at the painting, then back up at the man. “Fifty? Tell you what, I’ll give you forty for it. That’s the best I can do.”
The man grudgingly accepted, and I smiled to myself. I knew he would take it. Everything was a game on the city streets. Nothing went for face value.
“Rebecca come here!” Annie's voice was urgent.
Behind me, Becca scurried along the edge of the street in pursuit of a small puppy. I twisted quickly, and, at an awkward angle, barely got hold of the back of her shirt as she jumped off the curb. The puppy darted out into traffic.
Off balance. Tires screeching. A mail truck veered out of control. Everything began to move slowly. If I could not regain my footing, the truck would plow into us! With all my strength, I pushed my daughter from me.
The memory faded, and although I continued upward, there was no sense of movement. Above was a curtain of energy. The Separation. I knew it, and I knew its purpose. I would not be allowed to bring the memory of this place to Earth. It was here, Sam’ Dejal had to stay.
And he did not like it. Not one bit.
A mild current of energy washed over me as I entered. A splitting of identity, and an explosion of anger. I was helpless to stop the forces of eternity as the experiences of Sam’ Dejal were ripped from me, fading and screaming into the darkness, leaving only the memories of my earthly self.
And I was, once again, Thomas Tardin.
I found myself sitting in a boat with a beautiful young oriental girl. The water was as smooth as a mirror. The sun was warm in a peaceful sky. She was smiling. Why was she smiling? There was something familiar about her, but there was no name.
I stepped down from the carriage and turned to help the young woman to the ground. The old western town was deserted, but I paid no mind. I left the carriage and the girl, and entered the tavern in front of me. People moved about inside, sharing in whiskey and music. Several games of cards were going on, but my interest was at the bar. I moved up alongside an old man. He was drunk, and babbling about gods or something.
“You have my keys,” I said to him.
He turned to me and laughed. “You'll have to find them yourself, my boy.” His eyes were red from the liquor, and there was a film of moisture on his lips.
“My wife is waiting for me at home, but I can’t get there without my keys.”
“Why don’t you ask your lady friend for them,” he said, stubbornly.
I felt a pair of hands move in around my waist; they belonged to the young Asian girl. I turned, still in her grasp, and we began moving back and forth to the music. The bar was empty now, and a tranquil melody drifted from the jukebox. I put my arms around her and pulled her in close. She smelled of sweet flowers in the morning dew. The song ended, but we continued to dance. I wanted the night to last forever.
She pulled free from my grasp. “I will be back soon,” she said, throwing her bags onto the black leather seat of the red convertible. I recognized the man in the driver's seat, a strikingly handsome man, with curly blond hair, brilliant blue eyes, and a faint scar on his right cheek. Where did I know him from? The girl hopped over the door and blew me a kiss. Tires screeched, and the car spun out of sight.
“Honey? What’s wrong?” came Annie's voice from behind me.
“Nothing, just thinking.” I turned to see my wife making breakfast in the kitchen of our old apartment. She broke another egg onto the sizzling surface, and a strange clicking noise began emanating from the pan. Annie’s eyes looked at me expectantly. Her lips were moving, but the voice that came out of her was not her voice. It was the voice of a man.
“Next level, split, jump three, stop, negotiate 250 degrees...” My mind struggled to make sense of the words. But instead, the absurdity of them pushed me from the dream.
I became aware of a noise next to my right ear and attempted to open my eyes. But the room was too bright. What was I just dreaming? I tried to remember, but the images were fading fast. There was a weight on my chest and a tightness at my temple. I tried to move, but something was holding my head in place.
A voice spoke. “We’ve been trying for four days, and my people need some rest. I understand the importance of finding the key, but without proper sleep there are going to be more mistakes.”
“Just get it done!” said another voice. “Work in shifts if you have to!”
“Understood.”
I heard footsteps walking away, then a series of clicking noises intertwined with what sounded like voice commands. “Next level, split, jump three, stop, negotiate 250 degrees.” clickety click. “Next level, skip five, negotiate fifteen degrees.” clickety click. “Stop. Identify.”
“Pattern-- not present-?” He sounded surprised.
“What?” clickety click. “Search, stop, split.”
“Pattern-- not present.”
“Philip come here a sec.”
“What is it, Brian?” Footsteps approached.
“I was finishing up my search criteria, and check this out.” clickety click. “Search, stop, split.”
“Pattern not present.”
There was a brief silence. “Are you saying-- they’re not in the system anymore?”
“I’m saying, one of the patients is awake!”
I cleared my throat and swallowed hard. “Are you, referring to me?” I said in a broken whisper.
“Holy crap!” was the response. (Not a very professional response if you asked me.)
“Where...” I cleared my throat again. “Where am I?”
“Hold on, ah-- Mr. Tardin. I’ll get the doctor.”
A doctor? Was I in a hospital? My eyes opened to a squint, allowing the piercing light in at my retina. Blurry forms began to take shape in the sea of white.
More footsteps approached. There was a faint smell of cologne m
ixed with fresh air. “Good morning, Mr. Tardin. How did you sleep?” The voice was familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
“I’m-not sure.”
“We are going to detach you from the equipment now. Don’t be startled,” he said soothingly.
Where had I heard that voice before?
There were hands all over me, a pinch here, a squeeze there, the pressure was released from my temples and chest. I tried to focus on the doctor, but he was nothing more than a hazy shape. The colors were slowly returning, but the definition was yet to come.
“Thank you. That will be all,” he said to the others. “You will be briefed at the next meeting.”
Doctors? Meetings? A memory flickered; terror in my daughter's eyes, pedestrians moving in slow motion, everyone looking at me...
“Do you remember dreaming while you were asleep?” There was a sense of urgency in his tone.
“What?”
“Do you remember dreaming?”
“Vaguely.”
“Do you remember Vrin?”
“--What?” My mind tried to wrap around the word. “Is that a name?”
He sighed. “Do you remember anything of a world called Vrin?”
It was then that it came to me, just beyond my perception and pushing in. I wouldn’t have noticed it at all, but his words brought it to my attention. On the hard olive green surface of a metal arm near my head, was an imprint. I squinted. It read, Virtual Reality Interface Network.
“I have no clue what you’re talking about. What is this place?” I tried to lift my head.
He put his hand on my chest. “You’re in no condition to get up, Mr. Tardin. Try to relax.” His voice was soothing. “How do you feel?”
“Like a piece of lead.” I squinted at him, still trying to bring him into focus.
“Are you in any pain or discomfort?” he said, gently pressing a stethoscope on my chest.
Vrin: Ten Mortal Gods Page 16