The Time Tribulations

by Travis Borne

  Holding his ears, Jon said, “Ringing, it’s—ringing. Jim, it won’t stop.” Marlo floated over as if he was an apparition and talked to Jon calmly with words that hummed like murmurs.

  There was something about that voice, or was it just the focus. Jim looked around. He couldn’t find Lia anywhere. But Rafael was there. He was about 100 feet away, up on a blue-green, grassy hill. He was climbing out of the ground as if he’d become meshed with it. The grass followed him out, covering his slacks as if growing on him. But it melted down like candle wax and he separated with a snapping motion. He brushed himself off, then as if realizing—as if he’d done some sort of lucid-dreaming reality check—Rafael simply waved his hands up and down and became clean. He wore the same dark-blue slacks and loose white button shirt he’d had on in Old Town—and he appeared as a Spaniard, a good-looking human being once again.

  Jon came out of it, and Jim realized he was okay too, and Rafael headed over. Lia was nowhere to be found.

  “Welcome,” Marlo said. He raised his staff as if gesturing, my home is your home.

  “Why all of this Marlo?” Jim said with frustrated impatience, “and where’s Lia?” Marlo encroached upon him, uncomfortably. He reached inside of Jim’s chest! Jim’s eyes went wide and he realized, Marlo was pulling Lia out. She had materialized in the same place—that’s why his face was distorted like baby-doll parts. She came out quickly, and Jim fell. Out cold.

  The four of them stood looking down at him. “What are you looking at?” Jim asked.

  “Are you okay, Jim?” Lia asked. Her face beamed a smile.

  “Let me help you up,” Jon said. Both he and Rafael offered a hand. Jim took the proffer.

  “How long have I been out?”

  “About a minute,” Marlo said. “Sorry about that, Jim. It might have hit you a little weirder than the others. You see, it’s new allowing humans in here, and it’s almost impossible to think of everything, even for me.”

  “It was a little weird,” Lia said, “kind of neat though.”

  Jim fired off a wry face as if he’d unleashed an arrow from a crossbow. He remembered Amy’s excitement when they'd transitioned straight to Old Town from their thoughts. “It’s all right. I feel better now.” He wiped himself down and, like Rafael, surprisingly, he became clean as if wiping away some of the earthly construct that somehow had attached itself to his form. “Can’t you just show us what we need to learn on screen, out there? Did we actually have to go through all of this?”

  “Jim, the data is in the construct. The fabric of this world contains the information you seek. Everything you see around you is a part of my knowledge, all of it is compressed into this world. Here, I have the ability to control time, and what is hours for each of you out there, are mere minutes in here. We have, Jim, as much time as we need.” Marlo looked to Rafael. “Rafael, I see you’ve caught on quickly.”

  Rafael was moving his hands about the air in a weird manner, and wriggling his fingers. He then walked toward a 100-foot-tall tree, bare of leaves like a cramped witch’s hand grasping at the purple, peppery sky. Rafael put his hands, then his whole face, right into the petrified wood. He pulled out quickly and turned to face Marlo.

  “I understand,” Rafael said, “the information is there but useless to us directly. You have to form it into ways we can understand it. Even I, cannot grasp it directly. There is no way to interface with you directly. Just like any mind, each has its own unique programming architecture. This is what Herald created, and the reason his AI could use any system, and become—unique.”

  “That is correct, Rafael, we each have our own minds and our own individual cryptology. But I think you will find what I have put together, and how, to be very convenient. Remember, every word I speak, every sight you see, is coming at you, because of the time difference, at incredibly fast speeds. We are exchanging information like beams of light. On the outside, this would take, well, considerably longer.”

  Jim looked to Marlo, then back to Rafael. He still didn’t entirely understand. He walked over to the 5000-year-old tree and put his hand on it, then pushed. His hand went in, then he put his face into it. The data hit him like a billion Gatling guns firing paint balls filled with neon-yellow paste. The sensation disturbed his senses and unraveled his thoughts. Panic exploded throughout his brain as if Bertha was in the kitchen kneading his gray noodles into some of her burnt potato wedges. And he could not pull out from the tree!

  Light stabbed his eyes. A million needles. A spotlight pranking a sound-asleep camper at 2 a.m. Firecrackers and a thousand cats screeching and jumping straight up. And fat people floating down from the sky, pressing, squeezing, sitting on him, brown jeans on every damn one of them, compressing the madness together. And it hurt. Jim saw data swirling about in coding, as the butts suffocated him. But soon, no more butts. The brown opened up, jeans exploding. Prismatic, slosh and waver, iridescent water. Dizziness, JOLT, wide awake—METH! Snort that shit, you bitch! Now it was like surfing inside the computer, directly trying to—fuck, he didn’t know: directly interface?—while gripping an electric fence! He perceived sounds as sights—yes, he knew his mind was coming apart. He heard visions with a thousand ears, each hungry like a starving, drooling mouth. He couldn’t breathe and his emotions battled one another like fencers, or mixing galaxies swinging around each other like sloppy hot mops. He felt himself, as Marlo had put it earlier—losing his marbles.

  Rafael pulled him out. Jim fell to the ground, his unsynchronized eyes were loose and rolling about in all directions. His arms meshed with the ground, disappearing then reappearing.

  Jon gasped, not having Jim’s experience with dream worlds—but this was different. And now Jon began to sink into the ground, and he began to disassemble too.

  Marlo used the voice tactic again and rebuilt each of them with his metronome-like staff. And slowly, over the course of about a minute, the two became stable once again.

  “You understand now, why I employ the use of this world, this…map?”

  Jim nodded tiredly, then agreed verbally: “Uh huh.”

  Lia was stable, just like Rafael, half enjoying the world herself and half concerned, and now relieved that Jim and Jon were okay.

  Jon was beginning to be able to stand up straight; he wobbled a little like a tree rooted in a bog on a breezy day, but acknowledged with a nod, that he was all right. He remembered Herald in Club Subterranean. And now, a new light illuminated what Herald had explained to him, and Jerry, Leti—and Jodi, too. How he’d spilled the beans about his acid trip, when he’d done some serious drugs, combining it all into one dubious concoction; how he’d experienced madness over the course of the entire following year. Jon knew, he realized just then, what that might have felt like—and he didn’t want to do that again. He would not try to perceive Marlo’s world directly. He turned to Jim like a best friend, and communicating like psychics, both were on the same page.

  Marlo continued, “This world is completely unlocked to you. So, it is you who must control the depths to which you perceive it with each of your senses. Your known senses, I must admit and advise, because there are many, many more. For now, however, I suggest you employ only the human senses most well-known to you as the way to receive your input. Later you may want to delve, veer this way and that, allow more to enter, in new and stranger ways.

  “Rafael, I know this is different for even you, not new, just different. As we’ve learned earlier, each entity possesses their own unique processing architecture. The four of you have just had a taste of my grand picture, although in fragments you cannot utilize over time. If you were to remain here you would be better able to, in time, think as I do, and purpose the data in very fast, easy to access, and superior ways. But for now, let’s keep it real. Let’s, each of us, remain on this plane of universally accepted existence.” The robed wise one rotated himself and his attire to face Rafael who still had his hand inside the tree as if playing with some data. “Rafael, I think you should have
no trouble with this. Sir, it might even be slow for you.” Then, rotating to face Lia, and again to the best buds, he continued, “Now, let us make use of the mass correlation of information on this shared plane of perception, and because of my time adjustment we’ll learn a lot in a short time.”

  Rafael pulled his hand out; he mimicked Lia, who was enthralled and Jon and Jim who were in the process of becoming enthralled. The four of them gazed to the right, across vast bluish-green fields. There were sinuous birds, like eels, far in the distance and the sky stretched orange and yellow gauze under deep purples and blues, clouds pulled apart by a stoned, placated Van Gogh. And to the left, the castle on the hill, behind Marlo; it was gray and stony, but unlike the lone billion-year-old tree, immaculate as if brand-spanking new. They were in a world modeled after medieval times in all its grandeur. The sky was twilight, partly, halved by sunlight with the colors of a sunrise on the end behind the castle, and star-speckled dusk with two moons on the other toward the snake-like flying things. One moon was close, a crumbled rock—like a paper wad. The other was immense, distant, and blazing like the brown giant Jim had seen with Amy in the flying minivan with wings, the fantastic little ride that had taken them into the wormhole, after exiting of course, the nothing—or, the something. Yet this moon was burning. Smoking land mottled its surface, not captivating brown gas swirls.

  “Judging by the silence between the four of you, I assume you like my world,” Marlo said. He had a slow and calm voice, more raspy than Ted's but gentle just the same, easy on the ears, like a hypnotist’s. “Are we ready to go?”

  Jim was about to ask, “To where?” but said, “Fuck it,” instead.

  Jon grinned.

  Lia giggled. “I sure am. This is amazing!”

  Rafael sent a sure-fire, serious nod.

  Marlo removed his hood. His hair glistened with silvery-white alchemy and went with the pleasant breeze. He lifted his wand, as well the other arm and took in a breath. Past the rolling fields, across the canyons and bathing in cool twilight, mingling around and about the orange and yellow stretchy clouds, he gazed upon those birds with the trance-like eyes of a master mesmerizer.

  The eel-like fluttery wonders began to grow, larger, and larger—and in less time than the vast distance could substantiate—they were upon the five of them.

  69. The Alaizions

  The birds sinuously sliced the air like snakes. Five departed from a large horde, hastily conquering the vast distance as if ordered by telepathy to report for duty. The selected ones descended with wings extended, catching the air like a set of dual parachutes, overshadowing the wizard and four gawkers, claws ready. White underbellies glimmered with iridescent scales, pearl shields fluttering like a cat purrs. Gracefully, they floated down: building-sized feathers, angelic marvels from Heaven, wondrous and barely needing to engage a muscle. And their talons bit into the ground Iike bear traps squeezing stress balls. Nearly in sync, five beaks settled graciously onto the ground. Each around the arc formation exhaled a humid blast, a nostril-tooting hello.

  “What in the—” Jim stuttered, his voice stumbling out like a drunk’s. Astounded by the sheer size of the chimerical creatures, his jaw fell as if he’d taken a slow-motion punch to the gut. Jon, even Rafael, were likewise in stupefied awe. Lia was an elated statue ready to shatter herself.

  “They’re massive,” Jon said. “But what are they, and why?” Marlo smiled, but didn’t offer a word.

  “Always playing with us,” Jim said. Always the enigmatic, non-straightforward fuck, he thought.

  “I think—we’re going for a ride!” Lia said. And Marlo nodded at only that. She exploded and bolted. Lia was as fast as ever, yet slowed just as quickly. Almost tiptoeing, she approached the purple one in the middle.

  The creatures were about as long as lender housing was tall. Some about eight or nine stories, the largest two at least twelve. Their backs were skin like a lizard’s as seen through a magnifying glass. Feathers on their sides ruffled from front to back, purring like the pearl belly scales had done when they touched down.

  It blew her hair back and she stopped. The yellow beak snorted anxiously, and the smell of its breath was ultra-moist, sweet like a cornfield at harvest time. But it had the most welcoming eyes and Lia took the final six steps then reached out a hand.

  “Elegant creatures, indeed,” Rafael said. “A ride sounds like fun, so I’m up for it. Marlo, I knew you had style. Reminds me of Carlos and Luisa, before we, I, had let the others inside. We created fantastic worlds indeed, I must declare.”

  Feathery wings, like a galley has oars, grew ever smaller nearing the long extended tails. A set of four muscular legs with traces of smaller wings tucked behind each, possessed sharp, diamond-like talons. Each was tightly gripping Marlo’s planet as if their bodies were light enough to be blown away any second.

  “Meet…the alaizions,” Marlo said, finally assuaging the astonishment of his agape guests. “These magnificent creatures will take us to the first of our three destinations.”

  Even Rafael looked pleased. He grinned, replying, “So, this is going to be informative and adventurous.” His sly smile held its ground while he admitted, “Marlo, you’ve obviously evolved since our last encounter some twenty years ago, during the construction of Jewel City.”

  “We only live once,” Marlo replied. “Why not do it with style?” Jim’s impatience flustered, made apparent by the downward pitch to his brow, and Jon looked confused but up for it.

  “Well,” Marlo continued, “shall we? Or are you three just going to stand there and stare all day?” His bearded face attempted a smile. “I see someone’s already gotten the idea.” Lia was walking aboard! The creature bowed to her like a puppy wanting to be petted and had extended the largest wing, which became a ramp. She was entranced, walking up the wing slowly with glints of speed oozing from her eyeballs.

  Marlo approached one of the largest, first on the left. Beak stabbing the ground like a fingernail, wings tucked into its side, his creature leaned toward Marlo as if he possessed gravity. Like beautiful marbles with glowing emeralds inside, his alaizion’s eyes were grand and gentle, glossy mirrors reflecting the wizard like a store’s round security mirror. And Marlo took a casual, robe-dragging approach as if time was meaningless. The alaizion blinked calmly as the silvery old one raised his left hand to pet its upper eyelid. “Touch your creature…like this. Slowly, gently,” he said. “Easy fellow, it’s fabulous to see you again.” He stroked the orange one a few times then walked toward its wing.

  Obviously intrigued, as if memories were being activated, Rafael headed to a dark-green alaizion, second on the left. Jim stood back, grunting; he squeezed his ass cheeks together. He could feel a nervous shit brewing. Jon kept him company.

  Marlo walked aboard via the courteously extended wing. He straddled the base of its neck, directly before the largest set of wings, then accommodated his robe as if he was making his bed. Next, he extended his arms like a sleepwalker, waiting for it. Lia anxiously copied with a wide toothy smile. Reins appeared as glowing horns, sinuating from the back of Lia’s and Marlo’s birds’ heads. Marlo took hold of the strands and jolted; so did Lia.

  “Easy, gentle, easy…” Marlo said, returning to normal as if he’d sucked in a full dose of lip poppers—yet was already coming back down. “You’ll understand everything when you interface.” Marlo then closed his eyes and went full-on meditative.

  “This is fucking nuts,” Jim blurted.

  “It’s different. Come on, Jim,” Jon said, “lighten up. Looks like fun, and better than getting schooled in front of a screen. Probably a different way to go over our strategies. You got to give it to the guy, he is creative.”

  “He’s a fucking nut,” Jim uttered.

  “Well, let’s at least see what he has to show us. He did say there is plenty of time, because of his adjustment.” Jon headed over to the last two, singling out the other orange one, a grand one next to Lia’s on the right. After g
lancing at Marlo, who looked like he was blissfully stoned, he focused on his creature and pet the eyelid. Rafael did the same, at just the same time; Jon’s and Rafael’s eyes acknowledged one another’s. Wings extended and the large eyes blinked a, “Welcome aboard.” Jon and Rafael boarded. Lia and Marlo looked stoned. Then Jon and Rafael took the reins, jolted and went to the happy place.

  Jim stood watching, shaking his head. “It’s nuts.” He watched the four of them, like exorcists’ patients riding wormy serpents, or birds, receiving what looked like some sort of mutual connection. After swaying his head from side to side with impatient eyes, he made his way over. Before his first step had placed itself, he said, “Fuck it.” And he thought briefly of Rico for some reason, then went up to the last riderless bird remaining, the pink one on the far right. Lia had chosen first, purple. Jon and Marlo had bright orange, and Rafael had a dark, lustrous pine-green. “Why do I get pink?”

  The light-pink bird was the smallest, yet probably, the most beautiful. Walking tight-cheeked, Jim approached and didn’t even realize he had tunnel vision. The thing’s eyes were beach balls! Jim gazed deeply into the one facing him; it had deep, red eyes. Rubies, Jim thought. Millions of rubies, on fire. “So beautiful…you are. Are you…talking to me?”

  The eye watched him like a lover’s, then blinked slowly, answering, “Yes.” The wing extended and Jim stepped back. He noticed his friends, and Marlo, were bewitched, then walked up—their beasts were ruffling, becoming aroused. But he gave himself the tunnel vision again and focused on the magnificent creature beneath his feet. He lowered himself onto the neck, a leg on each side. “You’re very warm.” The creature purred. Jim smiled and his earlier grumpiness melted away; the cold fell out of his heart and into his legs, departing through his feet. And he raised his arms like a zombie, the smile forming on his face, growing. And he waited. The horns came; but they were not horns. Snakes, Jim thought, like crystalline anacondas.