And from the shadows, behind a row of trees, a group of armed henchmen ran to where the orb had touched down, but when they had come close to the two figures in the distance, there was shouting, and missed gunfire, and nearly as soon as they had taken their first shots, they were all fallen backwards onto the pavement, and the city was silent again.
���They’ve crossed us!��� shouted the man with the gun, who turned his attention back again towards Barbara, but she was grinning in the most unexpected way.
���What is it? Aren’t you afraid to die?��� he asked, aiming the barrel of his gun at Barbara.
Though she did not answer both of his questions, but spoke more loudly than she realized.
���You’ve lost,��� she said, as a visible glow surrounded both she and Wilbur, who were still holding hands.
He pulled the trigger violently, sending a spray of gunshots aimed at the pair, but his bullets instantly shattered into a million tiny fragments of metallic dust against the impenetrable surface of their light orb. Their feet lifted off the ground, and Barbara and Wilbur were blasted toward the stars, away from our Earth.
By now you may have realized that the globe that the Illutu-��mu had in Paris was not the true globe at all, but a false one, which was made especially for their plan, by expert craftsmen in Gleomu, and every detail was exact, down to the newly polished brass crank.
And it was then that the men in dark suits were beginning to realize that they’d been had.
���It’s a fake,��� the man with his gun drawn shouted, flipping the false globe over in his rage.
He, and the men with him, turned their guns onto Ata and Timothy.
���Drop the parents,��� he said, holding a hand to his ear.
Armbands struck together, as Ata grabbed Timothy by the back of his shirt, and they were pulled through the air toward the tower, Timothy’s force-shield at maximum power in front of him, deflecting the Illutu-��mu’s barrage of bullets.
They flew over the commons, and landed at the base of the tower in time to see a man and a woman being thrown from the top, and in time to hear their screams directly above them.
���Feet,��� Ata yelled as he threw his electromechanical ball as high as he had ever thrown it before.
Timothy clenched onto his pant legs, metal armband crashed together, and they went soaring to meet the pair as they fell. The wind rushed past their faces, and their ears filled up with the screams of Timothy’s parents, and with the distant sound of bullets, but somehow Ata got above the noise.
���Get your father,��� he shouted, as they flew higher approaching the midpoint of the tower.
And without thinking, Timothy let go of Ata’s legs, his vertical speed immediately slowing, and he caught his father, who was not a small man. The force of the impact nearly drove both of Timothy’s shoulders from their sockets, but still he held his arms around his father’s waist. They twisted and tumbled in the air. Timothy pressed his armbands together as he tried to keep his grip firm while falling.
To his left he heard his mother’s screams change from those of terror, to those of surprise. A blue force-shield materialized in front of he and his father, and they beat into the pavement, chips of concrete and dust exploded apart. The impact of their force-shield made an awful oblong hole, and their bodies were bruised and ached tremendously, but they had not died. All the while, Ata and Agatha Hayfield landed safely beside them.
���You alright?��� Ata asked, looking down at Timothy, who’d had the dust from the broken pavement, all over his face, and into his mouth.
���How about a trade?��� he said, pointing to his silver armbands.
Boom!
The men in dark suits had run at full speed across the lawn, and were closing in on them. A bullet skimmed the ends of Ata’s hair.
���Run!��� he shouted (not that he’d had to, for as one might suspect, it’s instinctual to run from gunfire).
���They don’t want you. They want us,��� Timothy said to his parents, who ran off, away from the base of the tower, toward the direction of where the two figures had landed. The bullets came in waves, and Timothy was hastily on his feet, just in time to block a cloud of gunfire that ricocheted in electric blue ripples from his force-shield.
In only a matter of seconds, the shots came with more frequency and precision, soon they would be surrounded.
���One more,��� Ata said, grabbing a wad of Timothy’s shirt in his hand. ���Got to keep to the plan,��� he said, as he threw his ball into the air and struck his metal bracelets together.
They were drawn upward into the sky, and as they flew, Timothy saw another larger orb of light reflecting away from our world, bearing four passengers within it: Timothy’s parents, who were reluctant to go, but had finally agreed when they saw that they could do nothing to help, and the two shadowy figures, Queen Matilde of Earth, and Queen Delany.
And still Ata and Timothy flew skyward, to the top level of the tower; A platform room with no walls and a metal grated floor, that is regularly only accessible via a service elevator.
Ata threw his mechanical ball into the space inside the tower, and they landed with their energy shield drawn, staring down the man in gray, who stood on the edge of a metal framing beam, holding a pointed gun at the old farmer, Pierre Legrand, and there was a bitter resentment in his voice, that a person who is unaccustomed to losing will have.
���You come at me with toys,��� he said, waving his gun as he spoke. ���Don’t you ever grow tired of these games, child?���
And as he said this, Timothy and Ata continued to take inching steps toward the man in gray, with their shield raised. At the moment, they seemed to have the upper hand, but this could not last for long. To their left a low-pitched rumbling noise signaled that the service elevator had begun to rise, soon they would be surrounded and outnumbered once again.
But then there was also Pierre to be worried about. Timothy spoke to him in German.
���Are you hurt?��� he asked the old farmer, who’d had dirt stains on his shirt and a battered face from his ill-treatment.
���Nein,��� Pierre answered, which is the German word for ���no���.
With gradual steps, Timothy and Ata continued to ease forward toward the ledge with their force-shield drawn.
The man in gray held Pierre roughly, and dangerously close to the edge, as if the thought to drop the old man were as menial and instinctual as our thoughts to breathe are.
Pierre spoke up. ���Ihre Gestapo?��� he asked (which in English is ���Your Gestapo?���).
���Yes,��� Timothy said in German, still continually inching closer toward the ledge.
���Any closer and he dies,��� the man in gray interrupted.
���Let him go,��� Timothy said, ���…And we’ll let you live.���
The man in gray smirked. ���How about we make a better trade?��� he said, slowly reaching into his jacket pocket, retrieving a slender electronic device with a long chrome antenna, that in much of a way resembled an old-fashioned two-way radio.
It was Ata’s transmitter, that he’d brought back from his father’s workshop, and that he’d taken very secretive care to secure to the top of the Eiffel Tower, more than a week prior, a full day before they’d even sent the message to the Illutu-��mu, organizing the conditions of their meeting time that evening.
���You should learn to hide things better, I think,��� he said.
The man in gray twisted the device in his hand. ���Is it important?��� he asked, dangling the transmitter over the edge of the tower.
However, Timothy did not answer, but only glared at him.
���Oh, it is…��� he said. ���Then we have an even trade, your toy for a man’s life. Which will you have?���
The man in gray made a pout.
���No?��� he said, gently shaking his head, ���You don’t want to play my game then, selfish boy. Oh well.���
And he let the transmitter’s antenna slide through his fingers, before catching it at the very end.
���Oops…��� he mocked.
By instinct, Timothy and Ata flinched, as if they would have run to catch it. His eyes gleamed when he saw how much it’d meant to them, and he laughed aloud as he tossed it from the edge.
Within the smallest fraction of a second, Ata threw his ball outside of the tower to follow the transmitter. He was in a free fall. He threw his electromechanical ball with all his force to make up the distance, piece by piece. With every throw, the ground came more quickly.
He knew this was his part in their plan, and he would not allow it to fall from his grasp. His cheeks pressed against his face because of the sheer speed, falling faster than gravity, a moving target dodging bullets as they came from the Illutu-��mu at the base of the tower. One more throw, and he picked the device from the air. Another throw, to break his momentum, and he curved back, flying toward the highest point of the tower. Only a few more seconds till 1 a.m., when he and the transmitter would both need to be there at the tip of the Eiffel Tower, or their plans would be ruined.
The second hand of his watch clicked to the minute mark, it was one o’clock exactly. He flung his arms around the tip of the tower as the ringing began. A dull ringing at first in his ears, that grew progressively louder, and the transmitter in his hand, carried this same signal, using the massive antenna that was the Eiffel Tower.
As it heightened, this signal that had begun with Ata, became visible like a golden lightning, or light rays, that was designed to seek out only one other signal, or frequency, which was that signal that came from each of the Illutu-��mu’s individual earpieces, chaining out across the face of our world like a connection of telephone cables, built of solid light rays.
And on the top platform of the Eiffel Tower, the man in gray was cringing from the pain, trying to end the terrible ringing that rattled in his head, but finding his earpiece to be helplessly irremovable.
And terrifyingly, because of the massive fluctuation of power emanating from the top of the tower, Timothy’s shield began to malfunction, dissolving into nothing then reappearing unexpectedly, until it collapsed altogether.
���Seems the trade was for your life,��� the man in gray screamed, because of the piercing shrillness inside his head, as he aimed his gun at Timothy, pulling back on the trigger.
But in the last second his aim tilted upwards, as Pierre did the least self-preserving thing that he could. Seeing that there was no other way, he grabbed that evil man by the arms, pulling them both from the ledge.
The rumbling of the service elevator behind him had stopped. In only a matter of seconds, he would be surrounded again by a murderous sea of villains, though Timothy had already begun to run before he heard that sound. In that instant Pierre fell, Timothy ran after them at top speed, steps rattling the metal grated floor. His chest burned inside of him as he approached the sheer drop. His armbands had malfunctioned. They may have been broken entirely, and you should know that he knew this before he leapt; over the edge, pointed like an arrow, headfirst towards the ground. The rungs and steel framework of the tower blurred past him. The noise of the wind and a harsh high-pitched ringing now inside his own head, as well; The man in gray, in a free fall firing the last rounds from his gun, all misses.
Timothy struck his armbands together, nothing. The power generated from the tower, from Ata’s transmitter was still disrupting them. And so he stretched out the tips of his fingers, a light radiating around them. Pierre was falling on his back, hands held upward. Only a few more inches, the ground approaching at an unbelievable speed. The tips of their fingers clasped together, and they broke through the crust of the earth, creating a deep circular hole that was lit by the strength of an orb’s light. They were being reflected.
Timothy, and Pierre Legrand, Ata, Professor Asim, and all the Illutu-��mu, connected by the signal from their earpieces, like a giant net of golden rays were being lifted from the surface of our world, from every continent and region, a stunning and beautiful sight in Paris, and in those cities of Earth that were not fast asleep. And in the blink of an eye, they were gone.
Conclusion
Roughly a half-day’s journey from the walls of Ismere, riding due south, there is a bowl shaped shallow valley, which most assume was once a lake, that has since dried.
It was there that the Illutu-��mu, Ata, Asim, Timothy, and Pierre were reflected to, surrounded by the entirety of the King’s army: with their flaming javelins, and barbed long arrows, readied on their strings.
And though many of the Illutu-��mu were armed, it took only a few of them to be made examples of, with expertly aimed arrows, till they all had lost their nerve to retaliate.
���Surrender your weapons,��� King Corwan shouted, standing at the head of his army.
And one by one, starting with those closest to the King, and passing in waves till everyone had surrendered, all the weapons of Earth’s most devilish foe, were laid onto the soft grass.
In the stories of Gleomu, this day is called the day of rope. For certainly, there was never so much rope used at any other time in their history, than when these villains, from the leaders of the inner circle to the most basic henchman, were bound with their hands behind them, and were marched away to fill the King’s dungeon past its capacity, until the time at which they could each be tried for their various, and often despicable, crimes.
So that, in the end, even after combining their efforts, it took Wilbur and Matilde Wolcott, the King and Queen of Earth, nearly seven full months to conclude their trials, finding nearly all of them guilty of predetermined murders, and treasons against Earth; And therefore, worthy of death, which was executed with swiftness and with the highest regard for human dignity, allowing each of them a chance to repent of their crimes, and in accordance with the common laws and rules of Earth.
But those of lesser importance: drivers, cooks, novice henchmen, were all given the lesser punishment of exile, being sent to a distant, deserted but habitable planet, where they would be free to live, and to establish their own society, if they could, but never again to burden Earth, nor her people, with their vicious tyranny��.
And what about the net of light that had stretched across our globe, you may ask:
Well, there were some people, and a few less reputable papers, that credited it to aliens, though not to any alien races in particular, instead to the mere concept of aliens; And some, that had said it was a government experiment, or conspiracy, or some modern weaponry.
However, when all was said and done, it was finally the consensus of Earth’s peoples (as it is often the case with things unexplained), that the whole occurrence had been a hoax, or some rumored legend, and they have since gone on with their lives, as if no one had ever vanished from the Earth, and for the most part have been remarkably complacent, as if the whole thing had never happened at all. (Which is why you have likely never heard about this part of Earth’s history, nor about this golden net of light until now.)
And with these things understood, here is where I will begin to conclude our story:
The following day, in the early hours of dawn after the day of rope, a secret party comprised only of those who’d had the legal right to know where the globe of Gleomu would be kept, carried it by horse cart, back to their hidden cavern. And with the bits of rope that remained in the kingdom, they lowered it once again into the ground, disguising the hole in the cavern roof, so that it was hidden from sight, and hopefully would remain so, forever.
And it was only several days after this, that the
same group (with the addition of the former Queen Ilayda), freshly wet from their swim beneath the waterfall, all gathered around the globe, and the glowing lifelike cave painting, to bid farewell to Queen Delany, and to Gleomu.
Then one by one, or in pairs, they chose a place on the globe, and they were taken back to Earth, some with tears, but Barbara with the most, although she tried to keep her chin up.
And of those who’d left, they traveled by either one of two ways: Either by touching the globe as they would normally, so that they would be certain to return again, or by touching the surface of the globe with a cave stone, so that when they were gone back to Earth, they could let the stone lift out of their hand, reflecting back to Gleomu.
The following is an account of all who’d traveled:
Firstly, Pierre Legrand, even though he’d been offered a chance to stay in Gleomu, told Timothy’s mother, who spoke excellent French, that he did not wish for any other life, than the one that he’d had. And therefore, he was the first to take a stone from the cavern floor, traveling back to his vineyard, and well-loved farm, in the French countryside.
As well, Ata and his father returned to their home in Istanbul, traveling by stone, with Professor Asim eager to begin tinkering in his workshop once again, but only after Timothy’s parents had agreed that the boys could have two weeks in Turkey during the following summer’s holiday.
Agatha and Thomas, who were newly made royalty, traveled again to England, by stone, having in their care the former Queen Ilayda, whom the Hayfields had agreed to look after, purchasing on loan, a small place for her in Hollesley, by the sea, where she would be able to at last grow old and to live in peace, fulfilling the terms of her exile.
Matilde and Wilbur, on the other hand, set their time on the globe for only a few days. So that they could sort out any difficulties with Barbara’s parents, and could return again to resume the trials of the imprisoned Illutu-��mu, which were at that time still ongoing.
And Timothy, by his parents’ woeful direction, reluctantly set the globe for a little less than a year’s time, and traveled directly to his boarding school in Harrow. Being forced to try to make up for missing nearly half a term already, and being informed by his parents to say that his father’s production in Turkey had run into a rough patch, and had gone longer than expected.
The Histories of Earth, Books 1-4: In the Window Room, A Prince of Earth, All the Worlds of Men, and Worlds Unending Page 40