Toy Soldiers

by Keith LaHue

  The descended the stairs, only to find that the station itself was only partially built. There were no tracks upon which Laelia had said the conveyance moved. So scratch that, they returned to surface.

  "Which way now?" asked Antonia.

  "Follow me. I'm going on a hunch, so if I screw up, please go easy on me."

  They followed her, Artimus taking notice that there were few people here. Off to the left, he spotted Yankee Stadium, and told the group that they were going to return to this place, and see the game. Flavius agreed, and the rest of them agreed as well, noting that they had nothing better to do.

  They walked south, and gradually the streets became more populated. No one seemed to notice their strange garb. Maybe the trip to the market was unnecessary. They reached the Upper East Side, according to Laelia, and it looked like all hell was breaking loose. Faceless people, all of them half-formed, were attempting to do battle upon one another. None of them were succeeding. They hit each other with fingerless hands, Artimus advised the group to avoid them, and under no circumstances engage them.

  They stayed clear of the unborn, as Artimus had named them and continued south. The found the fabled Fifth Avenue and followed it all the way down south until they found stores. There were several dress shops, that also carried women's suits, and men's clothing was here in abundance as well.

  "What are we going to do for money? Didn't think of that one did you, oh leader of the great unwashed," said Antonia.

  "I don't think we're going to need it. I have a feeling that stealing if you can even call it that is okay here."

  "Fine by me." The women disappeared into one of the shops, leaving Artimus and Flavius to the men's store.

  Artimus and Flavius had not been hard-wired, but soft-wired, to men's clothing of New York. Artimus said that seeing as they were going to the ball game, Jeans and a T-shirt would suffice. They both looked around the store. One of the half-formed was standing at the checkout counter. It has no eyes.

  The both ducked into the changing areas, donned the new clothes, and walked out right past the clerk if it could be called that. Outside, the women were nowhere in sight. Artimus wanted to get to the game. Time made almost no sense here, but both he and Flavius felt compelled to go to the stadium as if they knew something important would happen there. It was there that both of their twins were, one on the field, one in the stands. Artimus wanted to confront them, if for no other reason than to see what would happen.

  Finally, after what seemed hours, but was in reality only an hour or so, the women emerged from the store, all of them sharply dressed, and carrying box upon box of who knew what.

  "Did you ransack the place?" asked Flavius?

  "Well, seeing as all of it was free..." Camilla explained that their clerk too was a half-formed. Camilla and Antonia had multiple outfits, but oddly, Laelia only had the one simple outfit, Jeans and a T-shirt, just as Artimus and Flavius had picked out.

  "Laelia, you didn't go for the kill," smiled Artimus.

  "I'm Jane, remember. You guys are going to the game. I'm going to find Jane, the real one. I have a feeling we need to have a talk. She built much of what we see here. Her magic is strong. Maybe as strong as mine. Or stronger.

  "Do it," urged Flavius. "Artimus and I are going to Yankee Stadium, back the way we came. We too have twins as we like to call them, and we too, feel compelled to talk to them. Plus we'd like to see the game."

  "Are you guys the same in any universe?"

  "I suppose we might be," said Artimus. Both of them had a fondness for games that had drawn large crowds back in Rome. Even though the Coliseum was ruined for some unknown reason, there were other venues that were not.

  "Well what are we supposed to do?" asked Camilla. Both her and Antonia were pouting so it seemed. At least that was the first thing that came to mind when Artimus appraised them.

  "Ladies, would you like to accompany us to see this fabulous game called "Baseball'?"

  "Well since you asked...yes. We would. At least I would. Antonia?"

  "Yes, I'd like to go."

  "Wonderful," said Flavius. Now let's see about this "Hailing a cab" that Laelia mentioned. Laelia, how do you do this?"

  "I'll show you. I have to go to midtown. You guys are going the other way, so you'll have to get your own."

  The streets were busy compared to the nearly empty ones in the Bronx. Laelia deftly whistled, stepping out in the street a bit and holding her arm up. A checkered cab pulled up promptly. Laelia looked back at them shading her eyes in the sun.

  "Artimus? I might not see you again. Take care."

  Artimus was somewhat shocked but nodded his understanding. "You too”, he said, and with that Laelia departed.

  Flavius tried a hand at hailing a cab. The first few passed him by, but they could see that the drivers were half-formed. Laelia had gotten one with a fully formed New Yorker. He tried a few more times, and then they were finally rewarded. The four of them packed themselves into the back seat. Artimus told the driver they were going to Yankee Stadium and the driver accelerated away from the curb with a start. He took a meandering route, and all of them realized that he could be taking them anywhere.

  After screwing around for an eternity, they arrived at Yankee Stadium. They got out and the driver looked at them expectantly. Artimus knew then that this wasn't going to be like the stores.

  "That'll be twenty-seven bucks," said the driver. Artimus looked frantically at the magic users. Camilla looked bored, waved her hand; the driver looked at Artimus, said thanks, and took off.

  The man at the ticket counter was a half-formed, as were the majority of patrons. One of them was apparently trying to get to his seat but kept walking into a wall. They let it be and moved out into the seating area. The Yankees were taking what both of the men knew to be Batting Practice. So good, they had arrived before the start of the game. The Yankees were playing the Red Sox. Something about this made Flavius' blood boil, and he muttered that the Yankees had better win against the scum. Artimus has no such feeling and found it out of character that Flavius did. Camilla and Antonia looked bored.

  "Can I cast a spell on the players?" asked Antonia.

  "No! There's no magic in baseball. Or crying," said Artimus.

  "Crying? Why would they cry, they're grown men playing a children's game."

  "I don't know why I said that. It's just a saying that came to me."

  When the game actually started, Artimus was keenly focused on the pitcher for the Yankees, some automaton named Jones according to the announcer. He felt a tangible connection, something he couldn't quite explain.

  Then he heard the pitcher in his head. He wasn't one of the unformed. He was fully cognizant. The connection intensified as Artimus could feel that Jones was aware of him. Artimus listened in to his thoughts, curious.

  Jones was trying to focus on pitching. As Artimus listened in, the full scope of what was going on hit him. The Yankees won every day. Like his own area of whatever they were a part of, the entire city was stuck in a temporal loop, the inhabitants were helpless to break out of it.

  Until now.

  Artimus listened in for three innings. He stayed honed in on Jones, and while the pitcher was aware of him, Artimus could tell that for Jones, it was more subliminal, Jones wasn't entirely conscious of what Artimus was thinking.

  Artimus read the pitches. He thought very hard and began streaming his energy to Jones. Jones got the sign from the catcher. Curveball. Artimus bore down, and repeated the phrase "wild pitch", over and over as Jones went into his windup. Artimus could feel the confusion within the man. He threw wildly, the catcher missed it and the ball went right to the backstop, and then caromed off on a tangent, the third baseman and the catcher moved erratically, in an attempt to corral the loose ball. The runners that had been on first and second advanced to second and third.

  Eventually, the third baseman retrieved the errant ball, putting a halt to any further advancement. Artimus and the others
felt it right away. There was a palpable sense that the entire stadium, players, spectators, and employees were confused. Artimus tried to read Jones and found that his mind was such a jumble of thoughts that it made Artimus' head hurt. He backed off.

  All around the stadium, the half-formed that made up the majority of the population suddenly started becoming aware. Flavius looked at the guy who had been hawking cotton candy and what not. His features, previously mask-like, became more pronounced and were asserting themselves on his face. The vendor gave off a visibly blue aura. All of them were changing.

  Camilla jumped on Artimus. "What did you do? You said no magic in baseball! And here you go." Artimus felt embarrassed that Camilla could read him that easily. "I didn't really do anything!" he replied. "And I'm not a mage! You are".

  "You reek of magic," said Camilla.

  "I could feel it too," said Antonia.

  "Well, I've never done anything like that before. The pitcher was thinking, and I could hear him and I just played with his thoughts and then..."

  "You are aware that none of the people have experienced anything like this," said Flavius. "You've sent them spiraling into an existential void. I can feel it. None of the beings, save a few here and there, were sentient. Now they all are becoming self-aware. Look around."

  Artimus and the others did look around. Not only were the people becoming aware, and reacting with confusion, but the physical structure, Yankee Stadium, was becoming more pronounced, morphing into a new reality, becoming more than the shell it had been. The four of them were acutely aware that they had seriously affected this construct. Flavius wondered if the inhabitants, now aware, would settle down.

  They did settle down, in a way. After a short time, the game resumed. Yankee fans were on their feet as it became a close game, with the Red Sox threatening in the top of the ninth to take the lead. Artimus consciously avoided Jones' thoughts, though he could feel the pitcher probing his. He put up a mental shield and gradually Jones gave up.

  With the bases loaded, the Yankees gave up a Grand Slam. The fans howled and booed as the last man crossed the plate. The pitcher recorded the final out. The Yanks were unable to come back in the bottom of the ninth.

  For the first time in this reality's history, the Red Sox had won.

  36

  Laelia made her way through the labyrinth of Manhattan with ease. She had been here before. And her name was in actuality, if that term even applied here, Jane. She was seeking the Jane that existed in this iteration of the universe. She walked purposely, knowing instinctively to go to the library. It was just around the corner from where the cab had let her off.

  Jane of New York was again pouring over books in the library. The library now had patrons, and there were several librarians on duty. They all possessed some degree of awareness, some more than others. One of the former librarians had come here, not knowing where to go. Jane could feel her confusion, yet she resisted trying to help. An entire city gripped in the throes of suddenly becoming aware that what the thought was reality couldn't be further from the truth. Jane wasn't sure if she should attempt to help or not. So she kept to herself, burrowed down in a pile of book that now contained text.

  She was researching the subway system. She had some vague idea that she had ridden the subway, but when she had tried to access one out in the city, she found that while people, some half-formed, were going in and out of the entrance to one, she had found it blocked.

  She was going to create the entire subway system with only the power of thought. Hadn't she built the World Trade Center, and countless other buildings? She'd been to some of them, including the twin towers, and found them to be solid, with no interior, no way in.

  So, she had thought, if she had created the facade, why not the whole thing, inside as well? She felt the steel and glass move, all on the basis of her thought. It had occurred to her that she wasn't entirely sure of what the interior looked like. Yet in the end, that had become unnecessary. There was an intrinsic knowledge she could tell was built into the fabric she had woven. Like muscle memory, it was always there.

  After two days of focusing exclusively on the towers, she had paid them a visit. She was pleasantly surprised that she had indeed, been the catalyst in the creation of the interiors. She had taken the elevator to Windows on the World, and looked out.

  It wasn't the view she had imagined, there was a blurring along the edges, and something was preventing her from seeing as far as she would normally be able to. Part of the distance looked like desert from what she could tell.

  She made a second trip a few days later and again went to the top. This time when she gazed out, she was alarmed. New York was growing. She could make out the nascent outline of Brooklyn, which had been obscured by what she thought was desert.

  While in a sense it was disturbing, Jane felt compelled to continue her work. She was just looking at her book, this one describing the birth of the subway system, where the original tunnels had lain, and where the various lines had led when she was interrupted.

  She looked up at the spitting image of herself.

  "I'm Laelia. Only I think my real name is Jane. You're Jane aren't you?"

  Jane was in shock. She fumbled for words, and finally eked out a "Yes." Laelia looked at her and sighed, taking a seat. "I know. I'm, not real, you're not real. The whole thing, the existential nightmare of it all, I don't know what to tell you. We're different manifestations of the same being. Hell, it's possible there may even be more of us. However, I don't think so. I think we're special. I'm a Mage from what to you, is ancient Rome. And I suspect you have powers as well, though you may not call it magic."

  "I'm real," said Jane. "I...I can change things about this part of the world. How did you get here? Where is the part of the world you say you came from?"

  "It's across the George Washington Bridge. On what would be the Jersey side if any of this was real."

  "I've been to Jersey. It isn't Rome."

  "You may think you've been to Jersey, but think again. When did you go? How did you get there?" She paused. "I know you're just now getting around to the subways. Maybe together we can create New Jersey too. Although I'm not sure where we would put it. I'd hate to see my area of the construct ruined. I like it."

  "The construct?"

  "Yes. The entirety of what we know, of what is. It's finite. I'm a mage, as are you, and we were more than likely created by...." Laelia faltered. "I haven't quite figured that out."

  "This is a lot to absorb. We're not real are we?"

  "Well. We weren't. But I think maybe..." she wrung her hands. "I think we could be. Or we are. It's hard to think of non-existence, as all we know is existence. I think therefore I am, all that jazz."

  "What's Jazz?"

  "It's a kind of music. In fact, there's a lot of it right here in New York. In the Village. We could go there."

  "I have a headache. I knew that some people weren't real and that some places didn't exist when they should but....it's all too much. If I'm not real, why shouldn't I just kill myself?"

  "Tried it, I re-spawned. You would too. I think that...for whatever reason, we're more important than many. There are others like us, who play a more pivotal role in the creation and maintenance of whatever this is."

  "Oh, Jesus."

  "Now, he's not real." Laelia smiled. "We've got a lot to go over. Then if you like we'll take a subway ride. Though I doubt we could get to Coney Island."

  "Coney Island?"

  "It's an amusement park....never mind."

  "You certainly know a lot about New York. Tell me about Rome. I don't know anything about it."

  "I absorbed all of your knowledge as soon as I met you. Even the parts that are not in the forefront of your mind. Take my hand. I'll give you what I know."

  "Is it safe?"

  "We can't die. Remember?"

  Jane took Laelia's hand. A blue haze surrounded them, obscuring them from the other patrons of the library. Laelia pushed on Jane's
mind - her mind really - and gave it all she knew, of magic, and life, the sum total of what she had learned, both before and after becoming aware. She had always been more aware than the others, eschewing the ways of Romans. This too she imparted to Jane-that-was-her-as-well.

  Above them, a rift opened in the ceiling and blue particulates began flowing down and around them, filling them with magical energy. Jane gasped as the information rushed at her in a torrent. Laelia looked up, the particles growing, flowing down around them.

  Dave woke up with a start. He had been deeply asleep. Only one thought occupied his mind: They were tampering with the lay lines that intersected in the basement of his home again. Heaven help us, was all he could think.

  37

  Dave had been weaned off the pain pills by now; still, he craved the sweet oblivion of the narcotic. This was the second time he'd felt the shifting of the magical convergence taking place in the lay lines that had been the critical reason for his purchase of this home. He desperately wanted to get out of bed and address the problem going on his basement.

  He knew what he would have to do. He'd need to reset the entire thing, taking it back to square one. Any further building would have to be by his own two hands, no more magic. He was sure that his order would have noticed the disruptions by now and would arrive imminently.

  The ramifications from what he'd done could be severe. He may even lose his abilities if his order decided he had abused them. They had the power to do so, and while he didn't use magic much in ordinary life, preferring to live like the rest of the world, he would miss it. Of course, all they could really do it throttle him back. His abilities were natural and could not be destroyed.

  It hadn't occurred to him that the beings he was now sure existed in the diorama could attain true sentience; he surmised that they might "wake up" enough to cause problems. That was one thing that needed to be curtailed with rapidity. It would be nothing for him to do it. He couldn't use Davey without telling him much more than he was allowed to know at his age.