Chapter 18
I came to cold, wet and weak on the slab, being roughly roused by father. While being taken back home on the back of his bumpy old dog cart, he disclosed the talkative postman informed him he’d glimpsed me at the edge of our woods, dressed in bright green from head to toe, beckoning furiously in the early morning mist. Obviously this was totally impossible. Knowing how religiously I kept to a strict timetable, holidays included, father’s suspicions were aroused further discovering my empty chamber.
I’d been gone at least thirty six hours by then, and if a true friend hadn’t looked after my needs during this vulnerable period I’d have almost certainly succumbed to exposure. Far more prepared folk have died of far less. Once at the forest entrance, father recalled running around wildly, shouting, ‘I have two sons, I have two sons.’ ‘tis most strange how a parent’s brain reacts in times of mortal crisis.
“This behaviour goes beyond a joke Sam. If your mother ever found out about this she’d never let you out of sight for the rest of her life. I ask nothing this time,” he said, looking gravely disappointed, “But mark me, if anything of this nature ever happens again, I will be asking questions, and a whole lot of them. And I promise you will be answering them.” The bizarre situation was left at that. Nothing more was ever said. Having dried out somewhat, and after devouring a hearty meal I waddled upstairs, lapsing into sound, unbroken sleep, only waking after twelve hours to the noise of kitchen cupboards rattling incessantly downstairs.
Everyone had gone to town by now, and on the bed side table lay my handkerchief, pencil, jotter and faithful pocket watch still ticking away and set correctly, which was bizarre, but a big relief.
When dressing I was delighted to find Rose’s letter still intact. Crass and ridiculous as it sounds I slipped it into the drawer for safe keeping, leaving it untouched for nearly three years. I immediately stormed downstairs, adamant I was to be granted an explanation by fair means or foul, finding a very casual Ian.
“Oh, hello there young fellow. Have been through all the other rooms. Just checking out the kitchen. See, look closely, aha, just as I thought - There lies a nasty splinter on the handle, best be careful, a chap may really hurt himself on that. Yes... suspect I could probably fix that if I’d the mind to. However, was just thinking of...”
“I’m waiting,” I cried loudly, no longer happy to be distracted by such obvious behaviour.
“I’m sorry,” he said very quickly and softly, after rambling mindlessly. In that instant all he’d subjected me to – the late nights, the broken days, the teasing, the secrets – every single incident flew to mind in vivid, animated colour - everything came to a head and I lost my temper for one of the few times in life. To my shame I confess to have thrown my frustration at the general at him too.
“Sorry won’t work this time Ian,” I shouted truculently. “What I’ve been dragged through requires a whole new vocabulary. This has to be something to do with you.”
“Er, sorry. But can’t...”
“One claims the sacred ties of friendship,” I argued angrily, pacing the floor and shouting loudly, “But one is no friend at all if one does not trust the other implicitly.” With that outburst he was gone, leaving me sitting at the table, head in hands, sinking deeper and deeper into inconsolable, black depression. Very surprisingly one half hour later he returned, a tad more subdued. There were no words at first, but I knew enough about him to recognise the signs alright.
“Alright you were correct. I should have told you earlier, but was distracted.”
“Distracted. I see. And this distraction took divine precedence over my well being?”
“No, not exactly. I thought this would have been remedied long ago, but has proved to be far more tiresome that first expected,” he said, sounding like he was put out at having to even think of it.
“I see, now we’re getting somewhere,” I nodded wisely, beginning to sound more like a priggish headmaster disciplining a pupil, than a chancer way out of his depth.
“Was searching,” he confessed, seeming suitably chastened.
“Someone, or something?”
“A soul.”
“A soul?! Good God in heaven Ian. What the devil have you been up to?”
“A soul that is sought by many others. A rare prize if brought in intact.”
“Ah, ha, I might have guessed – Decorated Sir Ian Peters, a common bounty hunter.”
“This soul has nothing to fear from me. She was once my friend, my pupil, my...”
“Psh, quite what she’d be doing with the likes of you...” I said, quickly adding: “So what do you plan on doing when, or if you finally catch up with her?”
“I will allow her to find rest.”
“Hang on there, that doesn’t sound a far cry from what other fellows would do to her!”
“There’s a marked difference. Do you realise how deeply she planned this, with what forethought? She deliberately waited till your house was empty, so there was a sufficient period for her to work when you would not be missed, and then she tried to kill you Sam, purely to distract me. I cannot allow her to get away with such despicable, wanton cruelty as that, else where would we be?”
“Yes, I understand that. Presumably there are other factors in this equation?”
“Of course. But I have a marked advantage.”
“Which is?”
“Wouldn’t be much of an advantage if I went round broadcasting it to all and sundry would it?”
“No, I expect not. Please, pray continue,” I said loftily, hoping my personality change wouldn’t become permanent.
“I’m warning you.”
“Yes, I know, heard it all before, the wizard, consequences and all that palaver. Kids stuff,” I said, rudely.
Ian continued quite frankly, which made a pleasant change. I’ve left the rest of his story for you to take from it what sense you will.
“Before you ask, she has no name, none that could be translated into English anyhow. May as well call her Fira for now, to keep things clear. When we are young and reach a certain age, we are requested to take an interest in those from neighbouring dimensions who did not have the advantages in life we were lucky enough to enjoy. We did not have the liberty of picking them ourselves, they had to pick us. This particular female had the highly unlucky fortune of being an orphan. I say orphan, of course she had parents as such, only they left as soon as she came to be. No one knows where, nor why. Because of this I truly felt for her Sam. I was blessed with the most delightful childhood and indulged in every whim, so felt compelled before the outset of our ceremonies to request her as my pupil and confidante. Her or no one. I almost drove mother to madness to this very end. Believe me, that is no small task. ‘It is not my place to intervene. Rules are there for good reason,’ she’d smile sweetly. ‘Whatever will be will be.’”
“That indescribable night our ceremony went exactly as I hoped. As soon as we met I knew we were destined to become greatest of friends. Relations between teacher and gifted pupil progressed extremely rapidly. Our kind mature extremely quickly up to the age of two you see. One of your earth years being equivalent to nine of ours. Then our maturation slows naturally to a crawl. Ours is one of very few in this universe that can achieve this. I have decided recently never to die. Barring very few catastrophes, none of us need to either. All of us are created with what you will come to call the genetic imprint, the extensive memories of our parents and immediate grandparents, though these are capped, buried deep till we reach the age of one, and are revealed at our parents discretion.”
“As I keep telling you time as a constant is a complete fallacy. It doesn’t flow there as on earth, it isn’t allowed to. We learn to manipulate time for our own benefit and amusement. So unless we desire it there’s no day, no night, no seasons, no weather, no atmosphere, no pain, no death. If we wish to experience our world in a different light, we simply wish it. If I wanted to see what my home planet looked like as a ga
seous purple cloud with legs of a baboon, I’d simply change it. Meanwhile if another wished to experiment with weather and mix hail, rain, fog, sunshine, and so on all at the same time they could. The good thing about this is the only limit is our imagination. And just because I wanted to play football with surrounding planets, whilst a friend was using them as giant gobstoppers to impress a younger playmate, neither of us need worry about harming the other, for we make our own reality using a entirely different time frame, and experience it purely in the present. Again, all other residents need not be affected in any way. This is not magic, just a fundamental understanding of ourselves and constituents around us. Because of these singular skills we have remained hidden from the envious eyes of those who would seek only to dominate and destroy.”
“After our ceremony some choose to live in the past, some only in the present, some in the future. Some beastly show offs make the convoluted choice to live in all three! Don’t ask me to explain that one, for to you it would be as infinitely complicated as it sounds. On earth I fear too many of you live in the past, while not enough choose to live in the present, whilst planning for the future. Well (sighing) that brings me back to, where was I? (pause) ...After the ceremony.”
The poor little fellow talked with a rare depth of real feeling and showed such innate vulnerability here, it proved far more difficult to feel anywhere near as annoyed as earlier. Consequently the intense anger which was contrary to my nature subsided.
“By the age of one and a half I’d experienced such wonders with her...Sam, I’d have shared, given her anything she wanted, anything she needed – and she likewise. I can’t describe it in any other way - I was her and she was me. You may choose to call it passion, devotion, love, yet it was something far more. I trusted her implicitly, but alas she stole from me one night, from all of us, then fled. Yes, I still can’t quite accept it as true, even after everything that’s passed since. She stole from me while I slept. Information it seems, don’t know exact particulars, how much, let alone why. She knew I was vulnerable while I slept, we all are to some degree. For all our learning we cannot defend ourselves from those we truly care about. My usual automatic blocks failed miserably. As soon as I awoke I knew. I felt it deep inside. My aura, my life force, my very being itself had been damaged. You see we all have three energies at birth. With her went not just important data and trust, but one of mine.”
“For almost five of your centuries I’ve chased her through corona of a thousand stars, across a million universes, a billion planets, earth being just the latest. She knows well I’m following her, whilst furiously attempting to repair the increasing damage she selfishly leaves behind, for ‘tis my fault - mine alone. I trusted her and must take sole responsibility. I fear her end game seems dangerously vague. Her immediate concern seems to be leaving widespread panic and destruction in her wake. Fira seeks the weak, the defenceless, those creatures, those souls across the endless stars that harbour deep resentment for troubles past. Here she sows seeds of hate - feeds them wild ideas well above their station.”
“Sam, I can feel your brain exploding. Yes, Fira was the entity who fished young Timmy Bridewell’s corpse living out the river. Fira haunted old man Parsons for two months straight, driving the deeply confused, intemperate fellow to the brink of insanity. Yes, she was also present earlier at what you call the woodland glade, though I thought I’d missed her and yes, it was her that trapped you so dangerously in the dream. Those false awakenings you made a meal of in March – I’m sorry, I was too distracted to put them together till it was too late. That was her testing you to see how malleable your thoughts were.”
“Please, if my friendship ever meant anything, know that I have never lied, but have kept some truth from you. Sam, I apologise for this, for trusting her, for choosing you, for not acting quicker, everything. I had banked on this being over long, long ago, but didn’t count on her resourcefulness, her willingness to involve you in this sordid affair, yet still her latent flair for subterfuge. I can only ask, no beg. Please, can you ever forgive me?”
“Quite a story. Of course you are forgiven. The problem as I see it was not of your making. And I also apologise for my rudeness earlier. It was unforgivable.”
“We are both sorry Sam.”
“How the devil did she know of that strange, magical place hidden in the woods?”
“Told her didn’t I, along with other ancient legends of earth, including the best conditions to visit, and what may be achieved there spiritually.”
“Mmm, sounds as if she’s taken off on a wild crusade to find her parents,” I mused.
“Sadly that’s probably your heart speaking Sam. I doubt her intentions are as transparent now.”
“Phew, so what do you figure she’s up to?”
“Wish I knew,” Ian replied, muttering sadly, “But she needs to be stopped before others catch up with her.”
“Ah, yes, the others.”
“Sam, the whole point of this is she’s currently freely running around your known universe and infinite dimensions with her mind filled with hatred, using many of my skills and my energy. That’s part of my future, not hers. I may have given these had she asked, had she needed them. But the scary thing is although she’s unable to pass this information on to another, given the right conditions a like minded evil could take it from her. This would be no easy feat, but it could be done, eventually. Immediate consequences to her would be eternal damnation. Consequences to us could prove fatal. We remain hidden because of our unique skills. Were such information to leak out, we could only survive in pockets, always on the move, never able to relax, unable to grow in spirit. And remember, many others survival depends only on ours, in the same way every organism on earth is connected, each co dependent on each other to fulfil its potential.”
“Where is she now?”
“Gone from earth for now it seems, or it appears so. You helped with that. That was her first big mistake for centuries, underestimating you and the intelligence of your friends. She’s fled again, the trails gone cold for now.”
“Surely your parents, the other residents of your planet could have sorted this all out long ago? Seems they can do pretty much as they please.”
“Have talked to them at length. This time we don’t see eye to eye. Not wishing to get involved further than is strictly necessary our elder members engaged the talents of those known as watchers, one time pets, but, to put it crudely, glorified bounty hunters. Even the true Elders remain resolute. We cannot be seen to condone violence, physical or mental, let alone possible murder, no matter the cost. It is inconceivable for them to undertake such a task. It may drain their very souls.”
“But this dangerous energy you speak of – she stole your life force?”
“Of course. And once more, I’d gladly have given it to her had she genuinely needed it.”
“But yet without it you still seem... Ah!” I jumped, suddenly remembering. It hadn’t escaped my notice over the last two months that occasionally Ian would stop mid sentence, become distracted for a time, only to start talking again exactly where he left off. ‘twas almost like when talking over the phone and from conservation you gain the uncanny notion a person’s staring out the window, tired after a long day or otherwise engrossed in a newspaper. This behaviour was sometimes a bit of a relief considering how so many of his rants would tail off into how he’d run the country ‘with freedom for all’ and how many pies the king ate for lunch. ‘Eight Sam eight! Does anyone really need to eat eight pies? I think not. There’s no need for it. No need at all.’ Hearing this story certainly explained why Ian was growing odder. Even his silly jokes made less sense.
“I never claimed to be perfect, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he said, picking up my thoughts. This was something entirely new. “How long have you been able to do
that?”
“Do what?” There was that far away voice again. This is all getting a little too rich for my blood I reflecte
d, worried about privacy. Having told Ian about the note left for aunt and uncle he offered help. Brian’s part he’d leave to me, as it all seemed fairly straightforward and didn’t require adult supervision, while dealing with Rose’s side himself, citing ‘plausible deniability’ as the main overriding factor. I may have to wait a little, which was fine. His promise was enough for me.
‘twas then I told all that had happened during my enforced holiday. Two hours passed.
“I see Sam. I thought better of you, missing most of the blatant clues,” he sighed dolefully.
“What clues?”
Why the barefaced number clues for a start. The significance of three three three for one. Tsk, mind of a mathematician, brain of a tadpole. Lucky for you James was around.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but there was the confusion of the three twos to deal with also.”
“No there wasn’t! Come on, you don’t expect me to believe that! The three twos were of no importance, they were simply me warming up. Wise up! How easy do you think it is to influence people’s dreams during such deep, unnatural sleep?”
“I don’t know, I confess I’ve never tried.”
“Nor had I till faced with no alternative. The meaning of the numbers was, surprise surprise; threefold. I have told you over and over again I disliked the human obsession with time. I hoped you may realise it was really me contacting you and you may recall telling me of your false awakenings, how the same number kept cropping up three times before you awoke for real. That was her accidentally prophesising how important these numbers would prove later. Putting the two incidents together in context should have been straightforward enough.”
“I told you, had you been listening, rather than drawing crude maps and making friends with weird creatures that your awakenings had been a dry run for her, seeing how easily it would be for her to manipulate you when you slept. Useless asking me to explain it, but being privy to her nature, not only was this your ticket out of there, there would also be a total of nine different stages for you to pass through, three, three, three. So I was trying to give you hope. After all, you’d already cleared three.”
“But there was actually ten. So you slipped up there didn’t you?” I said smartly.
“Pointless trying to second guess me Sam - There was nine. That unexpected visit to your relatives obviously wasn’t part of her nefarious plan.”
“Okay, I get the message. Er, perhaps this sounds a little hollow, considering how thoughtlessly I acted earlier, but thanks for looking after me. Jade showed me a glimpse.”
“Least I could do, though even I started to tire. I directed every scrap of my power straight to your brain to keep you thinking during your visions, which was why your body was failing. Sam, the sheer amount of energy it takes to keep a human alive is astounding. Mark me; each and every one of you is a walking bomb.”
“Yes, it looked far from straightforward,” I said reflectively, asking, “Is that what you really look like?”
“In certain situations. Of course you can never gain an accurate picture of me from that perspective. A seer’s view of one such as I is coloured by so many different shades, and shades between shades. The physical distance involved is a large factor, the mental expanse even greater. The mental acuity of the subject involved, along with the natural talent and training of the seer are all mitigating factors towards the subjective quality of the whole experience too. Seems the fine lady can crudely contract and dilate time. All in all I’d say the girl did quite well, considering circumstances and limited mental capacity of her subject. Such skills aren’t just given away. I never guessed she was there either. Mind you I was very busy and her intentions were pure.”
Ian paused here for a time, making out he was thinking deeply. “Yes, I think I would very much like to meet Jade.”
“I bet you would. Honestly Ian, you need help.”
“Well that may be so, but on this subject I believe it would be proof of insanity to take it!”
“So how is a medium able to perform such feats?”
“Jade is a seer Sam, not a medium. A seer is able to see ones past, present and future, whilst a medium is able to converse with the dead. Look it up if you like. I’ll wait here while you fetch your precious, vastly outdated encyclopaedia.”
“Don’t think I’ll bother,” I said, knowing far better by now.
“Learning at last eh?”
“Tsk, and thanks for leaving Brian the amulet. How you did that is perhaps the biggest mystery.”
“Wasn’t me.”
“Surely?”
“I think I know my own actions Sam.”
“Okay, then one can only wonder who did,” I said, drifting off into other realms for a second.
“So what of the well?”
“Another one you couldn’t figure eh? Sam, I had no idea whether I was getting through to you at all, where you were mentally, nor what was truly happening. I could just work out when you were going through times of great stress by following rapid eye movements. During the time you told me you were visiting your relatives, it looked like you were deeply sleeping as normal. Even the occasional smile crossed your ugly face. All was well on earth apart from the telling fact you were in the middle of a forest wearing very thin pyjamas, on two of the coldest nights of the year. You ask me of the well? Sure you don’t want to think that one through again?” (Pause.) “No ideas? Tsk, typical. To most educated folk a well represents life itself, water see? So the fact that I spoke to you from the depths of the well where water itself lies should have reemphasised the importance of heeding my words. Though then again, you were asleep I suppose.”
“Shame I couldn’t put your words together.”
“Perfectly simple, as are you at times.”
“It certainly seems as much. You’re dying to tell me aren’t you Einstein? If you’re waiting for me to suck up to you, you’ll be waiting for a hell of a long time.”
“Not at all. ‘twas: ‘Sam get out of there now. This whole thing has gone far enough. It’s not funny anymore. I beg you remember that Friday night, time is short, she will not give up.’”
“Sam get out of there? What did you think I’d be trying to do whilst lying unconscious in the middle of a bitterly cold forest - Booking a weekend’s retreat apple picking in sunny cider country!? Honestly.”
“Originally I thought you were faking, being rather unsporting and trying to pay me back for amusing jokes I played in the past.”
“Seriously, you thought I was shamming?”
“For a second, yes, till I checked your vital signs and realised this was something far more serious. So then I asked you to recall that Friday night, when you saw things you weren’t supposed to - recall that night and try to work out what was real and what wasn’t. Knowing these three items would be stuck in your mind, ghost, gnome and angel, I told you to take them and what to do with them for time as far as you were concerned was short. Needless to say the ghost was you and the gnome Fira, who was using that form for herself from one of your dreams. James’ reasoning was correct about the positioning they fell in too you know 3,3,3, and that the angel was the crucial one.”
“I tried taking it, but well you know the rest.”
“Well I didn’t mean literally. I meant take them in upstairs in your mind, remember and understand them, then use them to free yourself. Obviously you couldn’t have taken the model angel out of there, it only existed as a figment of your imagination. Honestly, it’s a wonder you even survived at all, you must have been playing around like a right twonk!”
“Alright, I don’t think enough time has passed to allow for jokes about this thank you. And the bruise?”
“To remind you of the angel and that you were still very much alive and mortal. And lucky it worked wasn’t it? Needs must.”
“How was it the entire message seemed to be one part of a flowing whole if these communications took place at different times?”
“Bound to be some sort o
f disparity with the mind bending concept of differing realities between dimensions. We mustn’t forget realities between them either. The difference between where you and I are mentally is an entirely different reality anyway, with vastly differing rules. It sounded to you as if I were a million light years away from you because I was. You were unnaturally unconscious also, see? I had to attempt to breach these countless realities in turn, rather like you like to place work files into strict alphabetical order. And like you, manually flicking through an unsorted warehouse full of cabinets overflowing with data becomes all consuming and equally frustrating after a while, see? It’s possible many other creatures wrongly received that very same message if they were dreaming also. ‘tis also possible some of the more friendly ones I contacted for back up passed it on correctly, only at differing intervals. See?”
“I think I grasp the essence of it all,” I said, if only to stop his convoluted explanation. I had read little on space/time theory, advanced quantum physics or whatever it was he was trying to explain just then.
“Finally Sam, thank the lord.” “There’s one more possibility...” he said, trailing off again, then he was gone.
Sir Ian Peters Page 18
