by Rai Aren
Luis shook his head. “I didn’t say anything.” He tried to back away farther from the man.
Rick went to Luis’ side. “What the hell, dude?”
The man shook his head and blinked his eyes rapidly. As he looked at Rick and Luis, their faces were becoming distorted, grotesque.
“What... what are you?”
Oz tried to intervene. “Alpha-2, what’s going on with you?”
But he couldn’t hear him.
He fixated on the rapidly morphing forms in front of him. They no longer looked human at all. The smaller shape appeared at first to mock him, then its features grew more menacing. He could feel a malevolent presence emanating from it, stretching out towards him. Then, he thought he saw it reaching for some kind of weapon.
Oz was about to warn him to back away from the tablets. He suspected they were having some kind of bad effect on him. The man seemed crazed. Unhinged. But it was too late.
Alpha-2 suddenly lunged at Luis.
It all happened so fast.
Rick and Luis leapt out of the way.
Alpha-2 ran headlong into the section of tablets behind Luis, smashing into it at full force. The powerful magnetic force held the tablets in place, but the impact sent a shower of sparks ripping through every nerve in his body at a cataclysmic speed.
A bolt of what looked like lightning went sparking down the wall of tablets, lashing out and making contact with Alpha-1’s gun at the other end. He went rigid for a moment, then shook violently and dropped to the ground.
At the same moment Alpha-2 let out a piercing, guttural scream as the blazing heat within him went critical. Thought and reason were pushed aside for primal agony.
The others watched aghast as his skin turned red, then started blistering. They heard grisly popping sounds.
He screamed and scratched and clawed wildly at his clothing and his face. Smoke rose from his garments. A sickening burning smell began to permeate the cavern.
Then, to their horror, he burst into flames.
In shock, they all recoiled, watching as he tore from the cavern, screaming, arms flailing wildly, his entire body engulfed in flames.
Alpha-3 and Alpha-4 dodged their comrade. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing.
They watched as he disappeared into the dark cave system beyond, his screaming growing fainter, then abruptly it stopped.
They looked back at Oz, who stood there, momentarily as dumbfounded as the rest of them.
Oz turned back to the wall of tablets. “Alpha-1!” he shouted. “Get up!”
No answer. No movement from the fallen man.
“Alpha-3,” Oz ordered, “check him.”
The man nodded and dashed over to his teammate.
Oz and Alpha-4 kept their guns trained on the group.
He checked the man’s pulse. There was none.
He looked up at Oz. “He’s dead. I think he was electrocuted.”
“What did you do?” Oz shouted at Luis.
Luis stumbled backward several feet farther along the wall of tablets, in shock and horror.
“Answer me!” he yelled.
Luis was too stunned to answer.
Rick shouted back. “You were watching. It wasn’t him! He didn’t do anything.”
“Bullshit!” Oz edged towards them; gun drawn.
“Calm down, alright,” Rick said, putting his hands out. This situation was getting worse by the second, and he knew at this point this man could do anything.
Oz glared at him. “Don’t you tell me to calm down!” He again zeroed in on Luis. “Tell me what you did!”
“N-nothing,” Luis said, trying to back away.
“Stop!”
Luis stopped in his tracks. “I don’t know what happened!” He started to back away again.
“I won’t tell you again,” Oz shouted. “Stop! Now!”
In a panic, Luis stumbled.
Oz moved forward still, taking aim.
Luis gasped.
Rick saw what was about to happen and without thinking, he leapt to push Oz’s arm away, but as he did, his hand whacked into the corner of a nearby metal tablet, his knuckle making direct contact with one of the symbols a second before a shot rang out. At once, he felt the twin shocks of a powerful electrical-like current blazing through him and a thunderous, fiercely intense punch to the chest.
The shock of both sent Rick flying against the ground. He hit it with a hard thud. He saw the shower of sparks behind his eyelids. He felt himself drifting away, being pulled along as though on a strong, fast-moving current. Then all went black...
CHAPTER 18
A moment later, Rick awoke. He was lying on what felt like a cool, marble floor. He was alone. He pushed himself up and looked around. His vision was fuzzy. He could tell he was no longer in the Cathedral cavern, but in some kind of vast, white room. He gazed upwards. The soaring white walls and ceiling were shaped somewhat like the Cathedral cavern they’d entered, but instead were perfectly smooth and uniform, lacking any kind of detail, as though crafted by man, not nature, and the space was far, far larger.
As his vision began to clear, he noticed shapes in the distance. After a few moments he could make out what looked like a remarkably expansive library. Endless shelves stacked with books soared impossibly high. He peered down a central corridor. It seemed to go on forever.
He stood up, then looked down. Even his clothes had changed. Gone were the dirty, mud-soaked shirt and khakis, and hiking boots he’d been wearing. He was now wearing a clean, cream-colored, loose-fitting linen shirt and pants, and he was barefoot.
He also felt different. He couldn’t quite figure out why. He stretched his arms out, then arched his back. That was it. He felt no pain, not even any discomfort. All of the bumps and scratches and bruises he’d collected on his journey to the Tayos Caves system were gone. But it was more than that even. He checked himself over. Old wounds no longer bothered him and the scars that covered them had disappeared. As well, the pain from the impact he’d felt only moments ago had completely dissipated, like it had never happened.
“Hello?” he called out, looking around. “Is anyone here?”
No answer. The room was eerily silent. Not even the movement of air could be detected.
He started walking towards the bookshelves, but as he moved, it was as though the shelves came to him. His movement forwards and their movement towards him all blended together, as though it was all the same thing.
Strange, he thought.
He stood in front of the nearest shelf and gazed up. The books he saw were all bound in covers the colors of jewel tones with rich gold-embossed, bizarre lettering on the spines. They looked at once ancient and yet also brand new.
He ran his fingers down the spines. His fingertips tingled at the touch. At first, he couldn’t make out the embossed words, the language seemed foreign, but as he focused more intently on one of them, he felt his heart start to beat faster. It wasn’t language as he knew it, but rather symbols. The same style of symbols he’d seen on the metal tablets only moments ago. And their meaning was slowly being revealed to him somehow.
“I can read them now,” he whispered aloud a few moments later, wondering how that was possible.
He inhaled sharply as he realized with sheer astonishment that each book seemed to be a volume dedicated to a specific person or period of his life. His childhood, his adolescence, his education, various friendships and relationships, his mother, the Mato Grosso, and even a volume on the Tayos Caves—where he was right now, or rather where he’d just been. He was tempted to pick that one up, to find out how it ended, but a different book beckoned. Edward Braeden, his father. There was something he wanted to know. Something that had been haunting his mind and heart since... well, nearly forever.
He thought about how his father had left him feeling inadequate, that he didn’t measure up as a son or a man. A part of him still longed for his acceptance, his validation, a part that was empty. Rick still felt th
e pain of that stinging his heart—his soul. It had been a heavy weight he'd carried nearly all his life. He wondered what the book would tell him; if it would have any insights for him or if it would simply recount his painful memories. He needed to know.
Rick picked up the volume. It was heavy, far heavier than it appeared. He went to open the book. As he pulled back the cover, he felt a powerful whooshing sensation, like being pulled through a wind tunnel at a thousand miles an hour. It was as though he had opened a portal to a boundless energy contained inside the book, a force drawing him inside.
Then, suddenly it all stopped. He was standing in the living room of his childhood home. He looked around. He knew he should be surprised to find himself there, but somehow, he wasn’t. He thought about calling out for the others he’d just been with, Sofia, Luis, or Javier, but he knew they wouldn’t answer. Because they weren’t here.
He gazed around the living room. It was just as he remembered it.
He walked over to a hallway mirror. He looked at himself. He was younger, much younger. Only a teenager. But something in his eyes looked older, there was a knowing look there. Although it should seem strange to him, it oddly wasn’t. In a way, it felt perfectly natural.
He walked through his home, taking time to look at all the familiar things. It even smelled exactly as he remembered it, the familiar scents of home—cooking, fresh baked chocolate chip cookies, scented laundry detergent, old colorful afghans draped over the sofa and armchairs, his mom’s favorite lavender air freshener. He found it comforting. As he headed upstairs to go to his childhood bedroom, it was as if time was speeding up. But he could still clearly perceive all that was happening.
It was now only a few weeks after his mom had died. He recalled the profound sadness of the time and how he and his father had grown steadily distant afterwards.
But then, the feeling started to change, events started to differ from what he’d remembered. He saw his father, younger and healthier than he’d last remembered him. Rick simultaneously watched and experienced events as he and his father bonded over their shared loss. His father took every opportunity to spend time with him, knowing how hard he had taken his mother’s loss. Unlike what Rick had remembered, this time his father spent hours talking to him about their shared grief, allowing Rick to freely express his pain, his disbelief, his anger. Whereas before, his father had shut down and closed himself off, now he was an open book and accessible to, and accepting of, his son. Rick marveled at how the two of them grew closer over the months that followed. He felt like he had gained a best friend and mentor in his father.
Eventually, as time passed, Edward saw how Rick was gravitating towards exploring the natural world with an insatiable curiosity about the ancient past. He understood how much his son missed having his mother to share that with. So, although he had been a workaholic, Edward started taking time off work to spend more time with him.
As the years advanced and Rick showed more and more interest in the field of archaeology and had a strong desire to travel, Edward supported him in all kinds of ways. He had once asked Rick if he would like to join his business and offered him a position. However, Rick had quickly realized it wasn’t for him, and this time, unlike before, Edward accepted his son’s decision and did not pressure him about it, instead, championing Rick’s own interests. Instead of fighting against their differences, he enjoyed and took pride in them.
Rick was so grateful to have a father who understood him and who accepted him for who he was, not who his father had thought he would be, or wanted him to be. When he told his father he wanted to pursue an education in archaeology, Edward not only encouraged him, but he helped pay for his tuition.
Rick felt his confidence grow over the years. He got top marks at university and was awarded many scholarships for graduate studies. He was also granted excellent opportunities for field work, gradually becoming known and respected in his field.
Knowing he had unconditional love, support, and acceptance from his father buoyed his spirits and was a constant source of strength for him. Whenever he called, his father would pick up the phone. He expressed genuine interest in Rick’s activities and told him often how proud he was of him. He even kept a scrapbook of Rick’s accomplishments over the years, something he would proudly show off to his friends and colleagues.
Events in Rick’s life continued to speed by. Weeks, months, even years seemed like minutes. Rick saw it all at once. And in this place, this strange library of sorts, he realized he could slow time down or speed it up at will, or relive it as many times as he wished. It was completely up to him. He sensed, too, that if he chose to, he could stay here. For as long as he wanted, or forever. It was his choice. And whatever he chose, it would be ok. In the end, somehow, he knew he would end up in a place where he was safe and free to be as he truly wished. And that he had all the time in the universe to experience it, for as long as time and space existed. It was a liberating feeling. Pure and total freedom. He sensed that there was much more, too, that he could know. All he had to do was to keep going through the books in the library.
This time, Edward lived into his nineties. He’d never taken up the smoking and drinking habits that had become his constant companions before. He was healthy and vital and active until the end. He’d died peacefully in his sleep of natural causes. Only one week earlier, he and Rick had spent the day together, getting a private, guided tour of an upcoming museum exhibit that Rick’s archaeological work had contributed a number of important artifacts to. For Rick, it had been a sublimely perfect day. The culmination of a life he cherished.
Though experiencing deep sorrow over his loss, Rick felt and understood and appreciated the totality of a happy life he had lived with his father. Where there once was pain, now there was joy. Where there once was loneliness and isolation, there was belonging. Where there once was sadness and anger, there was happiness and peace. Where there once was estrangement, there was now a deep connection, filled with acceptance and love.
It all felt so real. Rick had a new lifetime of memories he could cherish and relive for the rest of his life.
He also understood that the book of Edward Braeden had complexities that he could explore, long before Rick was even born. He could have the opportunity to know his father’s journey, as only his father had known it. He could appreciate all the events and people and thoughts that had made his father the man he was.
Rick also sensed that if he were only to flip through the pages of this particular book, he could experience different lives with his father. But he hesitated, this one was so joyous. He wanted to savor it, to relish the experience, and let it seep into his soul.
Then, Rick came back into himself. He found himself back in the hallway of his childhood home. He looked in the mirror again, seeing the reflection looking back at him. But it was more than a mere reflection. He saw himself with new eyes. He saw his younger self, an older self, all the stages in between, they were all one. They were him. The reflection he saw in the mirror was nothing less than all the possibilities of his life, but as one.
And now a new understanding crept in, along with the most profound sense of calm and peace Rick had ever known. It wasn’t really his father’s opinion of him that had held him back all the long years, it was that he had owned that opinion, taken it as an immutable truth, when it was no such thing. The burden of unresolved pain and anguish his father had felt at the time, from a lifetime of his own experiences and challenges, was shifted to Rick, unfairly misplaced, and yet Rick had accepted it without question, as though it perfectly defined him. He now knew he could have freed himself all along, at any time, it was his choice. He could have chosen to simply let it go. He smiled at how easy it now seemed, how simply effortless it was to release a heavy burden he’d been carrying for far too long. He could lay it down easier than having picked it up, and leave it far behind. He could accept and love himself as he was, at any point in time.
Rick wanted to stay in this library fore
ver. To experience his life unfolding in a myriad of different ways. Each life experience showing him new discoveries about his own upbringing, about those he loved, about his choices, his regrets, his hopes and fears, about his very soul. He wanted to see how it could all play out differently, some better, some worse, but all infinitely fascinating and profoundly meaningful. He wanted to understand the very nature of his existence, in all possible forms.
But then he felt a strange sensation. Something was pulling him, something from far away. He could feel a touch, but he could not make out where it was originating from. Distant voices were now speaking to him, but he could not understand their words. They sounded far off. Then, the pull got stronger. He felt himself resist. He wasn’t ready to leave. There was so much more here for him to explore, to know, to understand.
The pull grew even stronger. The voices louder, more distinct. Then, he realized what it was. It was a call back to life.
He was still in his family home, but the details of it were starting to fade away.
“No,” he protested. “I’m not ready to go.”
The colors, shapes, textures and scents of his home continued to fade. The space grew and stretched out into a vastness of space around him, as the details slowly disintegrated into a white mist.
Suddenly, his father was standing before him.
“Dad?”
“Son, you have to go now,” he said.
Edward was a young man, maybe the age he’d been when Rick was born. He looked healthy. No lines on his face, his voice strong and clear, slightly taller than Rick remembered. His eyes were bright and he had a calm, knowing expression on his face.
“Dad, no, please, not yet. Give me more time.”
“It is not up to me, son,” he replied. He gave him a soft smile. “But it is time for you to go back.”
Rick was starting to panic. The thought of letting this moment go, letting his father go, their deep bond, everything he’d gained, was too excruciating to bear. This feeling, this connection, this experience, was everything he had always wanted. Something he’d longed for his whole life. It was as though everything that had gone wrong before, had been made right. All the puzzle pieces now fit.
