Bearing an Hourglass

by Piers Anthony

  "True. But—"

  "You talk too much, Chronos," Mars said with a smile. He produced a clipboard and pen and began marking the sheet of paper. "Now, we know there are only five intrinsic forces in our reality. Let's list them in nominal order of strength." He printed: NUCLEAR STRONG, ELECTROMAGNETIC, NUCLEAR WEAK, GRAVITY, MAGIC. "If you set the first at unity for convenience, or 100, the others are 10-3, 10-5, 10-38, and 10-41."

  "Now, wait!" Norton protested. "The whole universe is dominated by gravity; it is the single most compelling factor in the evolution of matter! How can it be rated so weak in comparison with the others? And magic—"

  Mars smiled, as if a feint had been effective. "That does seem odd, doesn't it! But sometimes the last shall be first, and the meek do inherit the Earth. Range is the key. The strong nuclear force has a range of about the diameter of a neutron. If another neutron were just one millimeter distant, it would never feel that force, any more than your Hourglass would feel the impact of my Sword if it were just out of range of my swing. That force binds our most basic substance together, and is indeed essential to the integrity of matter, but on our macroscopic scale we don't even feel it. The weak nuclear force is even more limited, having a range only one-hundredth as far. Yet the disruption of these forces leads to nuclear explosions or lethal radiation. They are potent in their proper applications. Electromagnetic force falls in between the strong and the weak nuclear forces in power—but its range is infinite, so we can experience it on our scale. Indeed, we use it for our vision, radio, electricity, magnetism—our civilization would collapse without it."

  He gestured toward the ongoing battle. "The motors of those tanks utilize magnetism for their power, for example. But it has one critical limitation: it acts as a force only on charged particles. The most potent magnetic field has no direct effect on wood or human flesh. So magnetism is limited though infinite. Gravity, in contrast, not only has infinite range, it is accumulative and acts on all matter. So, despite its low rating—and 10-38 is almost unimaginably small—on the scale of the universe it becomes the overwhelming force, as you pointed out. The last has become first, because of its nature. Of course the ratings are distorted; if the significance of range was factored in, gravity would be the strongest, if most diffuse, force."

  "Yes, I have seen it in action," Norton replied, thinking of the black holes and the way they governed the universes. What was a black hole but a gravity sink? "So its effective force—"

  "Effective force," Mars repeated. "There is another key concept. Think of a tiger and a million ants. The tiger has much more force than any ant, or any hundred or thousand ants. But the tiny force of the ants is accumulative and cooperative; together they swarm over the tiger and destroy him, as gravity swarms over the universe. Effective force—you must retain that concept, for it certainly counts most in battle."

  "Um, yes, I suppose." Norton was not entirely satisfied with this argument, since it seemed that his Hourglass was the tiger and the minions of Satan were the million ants. "But then magic—"

  "A thousand times as feeble as gravity! So weak that for a time scientists doubted its existence!" Mars chuckled, as if it were a great joke. "Can you imagine that? Not believing in magic, simply because you can't detect it in a single molecule? It's pretty hard to detect gravity in a single molecule, too, but they never doubted gravity! The magic in the molecule is overwhelmed by the gravity there; that doesn't mean the magic doesn't exist. But magic has a range of about 107 meters, or about the diameter of Earth. So we can experience it quite conveniently on our scale, without noting any effect on the larger universe. It's like the strong nuclear force, acting only on the neutron touching it; but since all of us are touching Earth, we're in its range. It is true it is weak in absolute terms, but not only is it accumulative, it is focusable, so that the magic inherent in a cubic kilometer of the planet can be brought to bear in concentrated form at a microscopically small point. Think of it as sunlight being focused by a magnifying glass, able to burn holes in solid wood. Thus its malleability causes magic to become, when properly applied, a force more potent than even the strongest of the other forces. The right magic, concentrated 1042 times, can separate the nucleus of an atom nonexplosively, which accounts for the transmutation of lead into gold; or it can interfere with the internal workings of a small black hole." Mars paused to waggle his finger in mock warning. "Now don't you try it with a large black hole! Anywhere the magicons can reach—"

  "Don't you mean 'magicians'?" Norton asked. "I do not. The strong nuclear force is carried by gluons, the weak by intermediate vector bosons of several varieties, the electromagnetic by photons, gravity by gravitons, and magic by magicons. Of course, all these basic forces are united by the Reunified Field Theorem—"

  "You're getting too technical for me," Norton protested. "I never did understand nuclear physics very well."

  "Certainly. My business is force, so I understand forces; your business is time, so you understand aspects of time that would baffle me. It is enough for you to accept that, for you, time is force. Your Hourglass focuses magic more potently than does any other instrument. The Hourglass has the power to balk Satan—if you use it properly."

  "That's good to know! But how should I use it?"

  Mars spread his hands. "That I can not tell you, for time is not my specialty. I can only assure you that the potential is there. My force analysis makes this quite clear." He showed Norton the paper, now filled out with a neat chart of the five intrinsic forces with their strengths, ranges, and carrier particles. "Take this with you; maybe it will help your strategy of battle."

  "Uh, thank you," Norton said, uncertain about that.

  "Remember, Chronos: fight, never give in, and you shall win. You have the instrument Satan can not overcome. He is Goliath; you are David."

  "I'll try," Norton agreed weakly and moved out. If he had to bet on a return match, he would bet on Goliath.

  He went back to his mansion in Purgatory, deeply troubled. Mars had expressed confidence in him—but was it justified? It hardly mattered how powerful the Hourglass was or how vulnerable Satan might be—if he did not know how to apply his force to Satan's weakness, what good was it?

  When he entered, the butler informed him that he had a caller. No rest for the weary! It was Satan, the last entity he wanted to see at the moment. "Get out, Beelzebub!" he snapped.

  "Now, don't be that way. My dear associate," Satan said graciously. "I have glimpsed an alternate reality in which we had a very stimulating encounter. Now it is over, and there need be no hard feelings. I am really not a bad fellow, when you give Me a chance. For example, there is lagniappe for you." He gestured to the television set, and it came on, showing a woman with a healthy baby.

  Norton stared. The woman was Orlene! Alive and well!

  "In this reality, she survives," Satan said. "Gaea was more alert and refused to do the favor for the foolish ghost. Her baby is not flawed, favors you, and will live to inherit the estate. You may readily verify this for yourself. Go to her, Chronos; she loves you."

  With that, Satan opened his suit jacket, revealing emptiness inside. The emptiness expanded as he drew the lapels back around him, until only his two hands holding the lapel remained; then they, too, disappeared, and he was gone.

  Orlene! After Norton had given her up for lost—to have her back! To have joy return to his life!

  Then he wondered whether it was right. It was true that he loved her, she loved him, and their baby had a fine future awaiting him. But Satan was actually proffering a bribe—settle for this reality and have this reward. At what cost? If he went along with it, he would be acquiescing in Satan's victory on Earth. In fact, because he, Chronos, had unwittingly enabled Satan to bring about this reality, he had become one of the agents of the Prince of Evil.

  He watched Orlene's image on the screen as she cooed to her baby. How he wanted her and wanted her to be alive and happy! But could he accept these things—as payment for facilitating
evil?

  He stood, and slowly his vision blurred; an intangible yet terrible weight settled upon him. "Forgive me, Orlene," he whispered. "I can not."

  The television snapped off. She was gone, in every sense. Norton stared at the blank screen, feeling a wash of grief for what might have been. He had thought he was over Orlene; now he knew he would never be over her. Yet he had denied her. He would have to live out his life with the knowledge that he could have saved her—and had not. He had condemned her back to agony and death. What price, conscience?

  That was assuming he found a way to reverse what Satan had done. Did he really want to do that now? Knowing what was right was not the same as completely desiring it. But even if he found no way, and this present reality stood, he would always know that he had in the end rejected the woman he loved. She had not, in the final analysis, been the most important thing in his life. He had chosen principle instead.

  Principle tasted like ashes.

  Satan had found a fiendish way to torture him, by showing him Orlene! Satan certainly knew how to exploit a person's weakness.

  Then he had another thought—why had Satan bothered? Surely the Prince of Evil had worse things to do than torment a defeated foe. Satan had a world to organize, preparing for his final victory on Earth just a few years hence. It did not make sense for him to trouble himself with trifles.

  Unless he was not teasing Norton. Suppose the bribe was real—that it had definite justification, by Satan's logic? That it was necessary to change the outcome of a battle that was not yet quite over? This suggested that Chronos could indeed reverse what Satan had done, and Satan knew it. So Satan was trying to sap Norton's will to fight.

  Mars had told him to keep fighting and never give up. Mars had believed Chronos could win, because of the supreme potency of the magical force he controlled. Was Mars a fool? Surely not about battle!

  Norton brought out the chart Mars had made. There was magic, the weakest of the intrinsic forces, yet the strongest when properly utilized. Here was the Hourglass, capable of utilizing magic most properly. Satan was Goliath, seemingly all-powerful; Norton was David, with only one weapon. But it was the one weapon that could do the job.

  It seemed that Goliath knew of his own vulnerability, so he had tried to bribe David not to use his weapon. "Here, David, you're a plucky lad—let me give you this beautiful woman Delilah for that little sling of yours." No, Delilah was from another legend, and Orlene was no temptress. Still, it fitted. Satan wanted him to quit. Therefore he should fight on. His enemy had confirmed his power.

  Now another thing occurred to him. He could not have Orlene anyway, for the same reasons as before; he lived backward and, if he reversed himself to join her, he would soon come up against the date of his acquisition of the office of Chronos and have to leave her. So Satan's offer was largely illusion, anyway.

  Norton was glad he had made his decision of conscience before realizing that. It made him feel a little better about himself.

  Of course, it would be better to have Orlene and the baby alive than tragically dead. Or would it? What kind of life would they have in a world dominated by Satan? The Prince of Evil had been proceeding carefully, not interfering unduly in the affairs of the world until he could consolidate his power. Evil had infinite patience! But once the critical nexus passed and he was victorious, what then? Surely he would change everything to suit himself, and it would be literally Hell on Earth. Oriene would suffer that, and her baby, and everyone else. Evil would triumph everywhere, making all decent people miserable. No, Satan had offered no bargain at all!

  If only it could be possible for every person in the world to see the future Satan offered—to remember his future as he remembered his past, and to appreciate how that future declined as Evil gained. That would shake things up and make Satan's victory impossible. But that could not be done.

  Or could it?

  Norton brought out the Hourglass and contemplated its flowing white sand. He lived backward; the future was familiar to him, as far as it went. But the Hourglass could also affect others when he willed it to. It could transport others in time, or even cause the whole world to live backward for a few hours. Truly, it was the most potent of all magic instruments, as Mars had said. But could it make ordinary people see a future they had not yet experienced?

  Squeeze.

  "Sning!" he exclaimed. "I forgot you! How I need your advice now!" He realized that, though he had called others friends and loved a woman, Sning had been his truest companion throughout, the one who was best able to share his experience.

  Squeeze.

  "You say the Hourglass can make others see the future?"

  Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

  Um. He had to narrow down the circumstances. "It can, but it's limited? Such as to—to the time I assumed the office, since I have no worldly power beyond then?"

  Squeeze.

  But that was only a few days. Not much good. He needed a decade or so. In fact, he needed eighteen years—the time since Satan had foiled Luna's entry into political office.

  Squeeze.

  "We can do it—for eighteen years?" he asked excitedly.

  Squeeze.

  "I can go back to that time—just before she loses the election—and show the world what it is heading for?"

  Squeeze.

  But now he saw a serious flaw. The world had not become a horror in those eighteen years. The horror would not occur until Satan could assume power openly—and that was after (before) Norton's assumption of office. He could not show the world that, and certainly Satan would not make his mischief known before then. The Father of Lies wanted complete order and peace until he was ready, just as a hunter wanted no disruption until the wild animal he stalked came within his sights. All Norton could show people was a fairly normal progression.

  Squeeze.

  "But that won't work! Because there's no horror."

  Squeeze, squeeze.

  "It will work?"

  Squeeze.

  "You're sure?"

  Squeeze.

  "Okay, Sning. Your information has always been good before. How do I do it? Do I turn the sand a new color?"

  Squeeze.

  "Which color? Purple? Gold? Plaid? Orange? Gray? Violet? Brown?"

  Sning had not squeezed at any of the colors, but after brown he squeezed three times. Norton scratched his head. "None of those, but brown does have its points?"

  Squeeze.

  "But I've really guessed all the basic colors and several shades. You act as if no color or combination—"

  Squeeze.

  "No color? But you said—"

  Squeeze.

  "Ah—no color! Transparent. Clear."

  Squeeze.

  "Representing the future, not for living but for seeing. Or remembering, the way I do. The veil of opacity made permeable."

  Squeeze.

  "Well, let's try it!" he said, excited.

  He turned the sand to yellow and traveled in space to the spot on Earth where Sning indicated Luna would be found after the election. This was in the city of Kilvarough, at her estate.

  "Her estate?" he asked, surprised.

  Squeeze.

  "Um, let me do one thing, then, before I get on it." He turned the sand green and knocked on her door.

  She answered immediately. Naturally she wasn't away from home much, since she had no office to attend to. In the other reality she had been Senator, but had arranged to be home to meet him; Lachesis had surely facilitated that. Behind her, this time, stood Thanatos—and Mars, Atropos, and Gaea. "My stones informed me you were going to try," she said. "We wish you success."

  He had thought he was about to inform her; obviously there had been no need. "You understand—if I succeed—you will no longer exist as you do now. You won't even remember this life. None of you will."

  "We understand, Chronos," Luna said. "Your power in this respect is greater than any other." She took his hand, drew him forward, and kissed him on
the cheek. She was not young, but she was a lovely woman.

  Norton brought out the Hourglass. "Well, farewell, all," he said awkwardly.

  They merely waited expectantly. He was touched by their acceptance of this significant change that could abolish their past eighteen years of experience. Surely it was not easy!

  He turned the sand blue and willed himself into the past.

  Sning gave a warning squeeze as he neared the date and another as he came to the hour. Finally he settled on the minute and stopped, turning the sand green.

  Luna stood there, Thanatos beside her. She was wiping her face, evidently repairing the damage wrought by tears. She was eighteen years younger than he had seen her a moment ago, about half her prior age, or at any rate in her early twenties, and stunningly beautiful despite her misery. Her dull brown hair was now bright chestnut, shoulder-length and luxurious, and her eyes were like windows on Heaven. She was breathtakingly slender and well formed, in a green gown reminiscent of her namesake, the luna moth, and her bright moonstone shone at her bosom. A jewel she wore—and a jewel she was, surely! She looked up, startled, as Norton manifested.

  "Chronos! Certainly you don't wish to share this unfortunate moment!"

  "Not exactly," Norton said.

  "She is about to go out to make her concession speech," Thanatos said.

  "I—I would like to address the world first," Norton said, conscious of how preposterous this sounded.

  "You?" Surprise did not register well on the Deathhead. "This is not your concern, Chronos!"

  "I'm afraid it is my concern," Norton said. "I was inadvertently responsible for Luna's loss. Now I must try to undo the damage."

  Thanatos shook his head. "Her reputation has been sullied beyond repair. The minions of Satan have used innuendo, outright lies—even ballot-box stuffing. Satan's work—but the people were fooled, and now it's over."