A Survivor's Guide to Eternity

by Pete Lockett

  “It was a good place to be brought up. It was very liberal in comparison to the rest of the bigoted medieval world. It was tolerant and respectful towards all the diverse religions and cultures. My mother was a native Sicilian woman. She was called Agata, which means good and she really was that,” replied Jahani.

  “Respectful of religions; you know that Vikings kind of got a bit of bad press, raiding, raping, pillaging and all that? It wasn’t like that then?” enquired Ed nervously.

  “Not in my circles. We were just migrating from the frozen ice lands where we came from, looking for warmer climates. Often we would mix with the local populations and try to live side by side. Sicily was the prime example of that. Many aspects of daily life got intertwined: religions, food, marriage, you name it.”

  “Really? Intertwined religions? I thought the Vikings were pagans?”

  “We just had a multitude of gods that were worshipped for different purposes and at different times. That’s why the integration of Christianity was so easy for us, it was just another one to put on the mantelpiece and add to the set. Mind you, it did start to take over a bit.”

  “Tell him about the giants, Jahani,” piped in Pritvijaj.

  “He probably knows that already.”

  “Erm, giants? No, I don’t know about them.”

  “Well, like good and evil in Christianity, we had giants that were the counter force that challenged our gods,” replied Jahani.

  “How do you think Christianity started to take over? Vikings seem so strong-willed from everything I’ve read.”

  “Business. All because of business and money. Christians were not allowed to trade with us for religious reasons. To get around that, they instigated a scheme whereby Scandinavian traders could partially convert to Christianity to make deals possible. It was called ‘primsigning’, and although falling short of baptism itself, served the purpose. It led to a lot of full conversions though,” replied the Viking informatively.

  “I never knew that. Was that happening in Sicily?”

  “Yes, everywhere in the trading Christian world as far as I know.”

  “Did you spend your whole life there?”

  “Apart from some overseas excursions, I was based there throughout.”

  “Somehow I was expecting swashbuckling stories of sea-borne invasions and ferocious battles with swords and axes, maybe even some Walrus ice cream and Arctic Bear Haggis?” replied Ed.

  “There was a bit of that - swashbuckling adventure that is, not the frosted mammal cuisine. We used to go over to Sardinia, North Africa and other random islands in the Mediterranean. They were scared of us and there was normally a bit of friction, but that was how things were back then. There wasn’t much severe fighting that I was involved in. Just as well, because I was really a man of peace and enjoyed the calm serenity of Sicily.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you die?”

  “Again, an anticlimax for you here as well. No tales of bravery and craziness. No death in battle or falling on the sword. Just a quiet and natural death in my sleep. I remember clearly nodding off after a night of fine wine and steak and then suddenly being in the tunnel with the bright light. That was that, nice and easy. I had a good life with no regrets.”

  “Any children?”

  “Yes, eleven children and three wives,” replied Jahani with a wry smile.

  “Goodness, that’s definitely not an empty pistol,” replied Ed.

  “That’s right. I’ve met three of my children again in here. Very strange. They all moved on to other pastures though, just like you want to.”

  “Yes, indeed. Maybe we should touch base on that. What have you been thinking?” enquired Ed.

  “The only bit of information I’m missing at the moment is your approximate date and time of death. It was in the UK wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. I can do better than approximate. I looked it up on the internet when I was a cat. It was September 22nd 2009 at approx 17.00 near Dummer in southern England,” replied Ed.

  “Ah, that’s excellent. More detail than I normally get. Give me a little while to work out some figures in my head,” requested Jahani, going into himself.

  “Okay then, no probs,” replied Ed, as the two sat in silence whilst Pritvijaj left the room.

  “See you later,” said Ed, as he disappeared, only to be put in his place with a big ‘schhhhhhh’ from the Viking’s road-mapped face. They sat quietly for a while, Ed reflecting back on Johnny in the tunnel.

  “Right, I’m set. Let’s go up to the departure tunnels and we can talk further,” announced Jahani as he got up and headed towards the door, followed swiftly by Ed.

  “Jahani, I forgot to mention. I met a first-time Transient in the tunnels on the way here earlier.”

  “Well I’m glad you didn’t bring him here. I hate babysitting first-timers. Did you leave him there? What did you tell him?”

  “Yes, I left him there and advised him to jump again or else head back through the tunnels and meet up with others. He had plenty of time, it was his first day,” replied Ed, as they proceeded along and up the same black stairs they’d used previously.

  “Good advice. You can’t get involved emotionally with Transients until they are permanent. It’s important to remember they’re temporary. He’ll find his way for sure. Maybe I’ll see him one day. Did you tell him about me?”

  “Yes, I certainly did, although he found it really hard to believe any of it. You can see his point.”

  “That’s true,” replied the Viking, as they got to the top of the stairs and into the smaller long tunnel with the various portals in the floor. They walked through and past where Ed had jumped before, standing still at a point where the white granite floor turned to black, making it look like a tube of oil and milk. Jahani got Ed’s possessions and put them on the floor on the dividing line between white and black, first one of the jackets, then the two watches the anklet from the bird and finally the second jacket.

  “Now then, Ed, you need to make a decision. I need to let you know that this could all go terribly wrong. I can control some things but I cannot guarantee one hundred percent success. What are you expecting out of this?”

  “I don’t know yet. What are the options on the table?”

  “Well, basically, right here, where we are standing, marks the middle of a varied selection of portals and departure points. Each one is angled differently, getting less steep and longer as we move away from the central point.”

  “Well what does that mean?” queried Ed.

  “It means that if you travel down the longer ones then you are travelling at a faster speed when you enter the flow of the tunnel. This gives the opportunity to be propelled slightly further forward in time depending on the speed you enter the tunnel. If you go down the one in the middle, between the white and black granite then that is a sheer drop and you will enter the time continuum closely linked to the exact time of departure. However, the further down the tunnel you go away from this point then the longer the descent and the greater the speed at time of entry into the flow. In this instance you will speed ahead of time slightly, departing into the future. Quite simple really,” exclaimed Jahani.

  “Yes, quite simple, although if I hadn’t been through all I have been through recently I wouldn’t believe you. As it is, I do, although I can’t see what use it would be for me to jump into the future,” replied Ed.

  “That’s just it. It works both ways. If you look back along the tunnel the opposite direction, you also have hundreds of portals pointing into the stream in the opposite direction, against the flow.”

  “And?”

  “And of course, you can speed into the flow in the opposite direction at various speeds to delay your position in time. The further you go along the tunnel then the further back in time you can go. Some people like to go back and witness their own death, to see what really happened. I have enough information and objects from you to be able to accurately place you a day or two befor
e your death. Because you also finished your last transience in that area, you’ll definitely end up somewhere nearby. The choice is yours.”

  “That’s some choice. First I’ll need some time to think about whether I want to witness my own death,” exclaimed Ed, pensively.

  “It certainly is. In your own time, young man,” replied Jahani, leaving a moment for some quiet reflection. Ed sat down by the side of the tunnel, head in hands doing an accurate impersonation of Socrates. Jahani stood motionless and quiet, looking the other way, with Ed in his peripheral vision.

  “You mentioned that something can go wrong. What could that be?” enquired Ed, looking up at the gent.

  “In this case, with all your information, I think we’re pretty safe. Normally I can’t be sure of an exact time because I don’t have enough information. Worst case scenario you can land months or years out and it’s then really hard to come back round and do this all again because the whole personal time continuum gets really messed up. Also, I’ve no idea how you will manifest. You could become a snail. It all gets much harder to predict and therefore harder to be accurate,” replied Jahani.

  “You have to hope you don’t become a fish.”

  “Yeah, I might very well get eaten though.”

  “That’s true. I just wanted you to be clear of the risks anyway.”

  Ed sat thoughtfully.

  “I can see the risks. I’m prepared to take them though. I’ve come this far, so why shouldn’t I push the boat out further?” stated Ed confidently, as he got to his feet.

  “Right, in that case let’s go then. We need to walk along to the fifty-seventh tunnel going against the time flow. I’m pretty sure this will set you up a day or so before your first death.”

  The two of them began walking along the tunnel.

  “Don’t we need my things?” enquired Ed, stopping in his tracks looking back at the articles.

  “No. They stay on the dividing line until you’ve gone, then they just disappear into thin air. I have no idea why,” replied Jahani.

  “How come you know about all this stuff anyway, like a wise sage, or wizard or something?” enquired Ed.

  “It’s just that I’ve been here for a long time and have been interested enough to experiment. Maybe there are other places like this in other tunnels. I don’t know. Anyway, I would send people off who were interested and when and if they came back, I would remember the data and in that way I built up a library of information in my head.”

  “How could you remember all that? It must be an astounding number of equations?”

  “I don’t know. I must have an elephant’s memory or something. That’s what one girl called it. Anyway, I started to get more and more accurate with it all.”

  Soon they had arrived at tunnel fifty-seven and stood staring into the sloping chute.

  “I can’t believe it, it looks so long.”

  “Yes, indeed. It won’t be any different for you from before though. There’ll be a similar white light and deafening wind noise. I think you’re used to it by now.”

  “Thanks, Jahani. I know the drill. I’ve become quite fond of tornadoes,” replied Ed ironically, still gazing into the daunting-looking opening, a terrifying and infinite well of darkness. He could feel his heart pounding faster and faster, throbbing at his chest as if there was an angry boxer inside. His stomach churned as his legs felt drained of strength, although still able to shake nervously at both knees. He was aware of what a big moment this was for him. All his endeavours and pursuits as a Transient had led him to this point. It wasn’t long before he came to his senses and slapped the fear around its face with a determined fist of rational awareness.

  The two men stood in silence for a while, Ed staring down chute fifty-seven and Jahani staring at Ed, giving him time to come to terms with the task at hand.

  The silence didn’t last long.

  “The time has come. You should go now. I wish you all the luck possible. Maybe I’ll see you again.”

  “Maybe. We’ll see,” replied Ed, as he sat down on the edge of the selected portal before slipping himself in and disappearing like a rocket-propelled skier down a steep slope. He remained fully conscious when he sped out of the entrance and slammed into the powerful contrary flow, thumping to what felt like a 100mph emergency stop against a brick wall. Everything froze; time and space stood completely still.

  ***

  Soon he became aware of people floating slowly past him, looking like they’d been filmed with super slow motion cameras as they drifted eerily along. He started to spin, arms and legs outstretched like a big star. Faster and faster he span as the noise of the wind became overwhelming. Soon it engaged all its might and the familiar rapid flow of movement started to overcome his senses.

  As his body was tossed, turned and spun, he intermittently caught sight of the brilliant white light, burning into his skin like a powerful laser. Then suddenly he was inside the light, completely restrained and motionless, surrounded and baked in the violent, blinding, brightness. He could feel it penetrating into his body and through his organs as if he was a pudding in a microwave, before a high-pitched deafening tone of ten thousand kettle whistles ripped into his brain and rendered him unconscious.

  Chapter 20

  Strictly come cooking

  Ed awoke with a painful sensation around his neck. It dug into his wind tunnel, dangerously restricting his breathing, causing a slight panic.

  “Come on, Beamer, get over here, please. Come on, dog,” he heard as he felt his whole body yanked backwards, dragged by the restraint around his neck.

  “What’s up with you, for Chrissake? Come on,” cried the voice of a young female, impatiently.

  The whole commotion woke him fully and he soon realised he was once again transitioned into a dog. He looked down at his light brown, furry paws as his legs straightened, succumbing to the pulling on the lead whilst being yanked from a small basket. He was soon trotting along politely in the direction of the taut lead, feeling much daintier than he had as a killer hound. He looked around to see a neat and tidy house, smart white leather sofas, large flat screen TV and tasteful sand colour carpet. The walls were newly decorated and painted in a soothing light blue colour with yellow trim. He looked ahead and saw two fine legs in silk stockings with evocative open high-heeled shoes, crowned with a black pleated skirt just above the knee.

  I could be up for a good view here, he thought, as he trotted behind the lady, catching up to loosen the tension on the lead. Soon they were heading through the front door and along the garden path and into a small one-track road with hedges either side. He looked around at the house as they exited through the gate, recognising the bungalow style from his excursion when he was a falcon. If it was the same village, then he was indeed very close to the filling station and diner. He hoped deep in his heart that Jahani had got the calculations right and that he had arrived a day or two before his death in the car.

  They proceeded along the lane and into a slightly bigger road, still barely enough for two cars to pass. The weather was clear with a perfect blue sky peppered with small fluffy clouds. There was a chill in the air and a slight breeze that ruffled through his fur, but nothing that caused him discomfort or misery. As they proceeded further down the lane, he recognised one of the white thatched buildings from his flight, and then the road name on a small long sign fixed to two small posts about a metre high.

  ‘Yew Tree Close’, and then a little further on, ‘Cuckoo Lane’. He now knew exactly where he was. All he needed to do was whip down the road past the Fox pub and that would take him towards the M3 from the north. Then he would just need to turn right and the diner was less than half a mile away.

  They turned the corner into a small park and the young lady undid his collar and let him run free. He galloped off away from her, wondering what his next move should be.

  What to do? Should I run away now and try to find out the date and go to the petrol station? If I have a couple of days to
kill, I might get caught by pest control or dog services or something. Maybe it would make sense to find out the date first. That might involve going back with her though and possibly getting locked in and trapped in the house.

  Ed mused and debated internally, working on the best course of action. As he ran to the other side of the park he noticed a little old man sitting on a bench reading a paper. He wandered over quietly and peered at the front and back of the broadsheet as the man held it aloft, habitually consuming its stories of doom and gloom. Ed peered up inquisitively at the paper trying to focus on the date at its top.

  ‘FURTHER CRISIS FOR LIB DEMS AS KEY MP’S SWITCH ALLEGIANCE TO TORIES,’ read the bold headline negatively, underneath which there was a graph of steep social decline.

  Ed remembered the headline clearly from the few days before his death. He had joked about it with Abella and had defaced the graph with an alternative and opposite one of bankers’ profits. He squinted to get a closer look at the date, but was disturbed by the young lady coming from behind.

  “Beamer, what are you doing? Reading the headlines, you silly dog? Stop being so daft,” she exclaimed, startling the reading man and causing him to fold his paper in on itself temporarily.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  “Not a problem at all, always glad to be disturbed by a young lady,” replied the older man, greasily, believing he was still able to woo and charm the younger of the opposite sex.

  “Oh, well, Okay then. You carry on, I must be off,” replied the lady, nervously aware of his scruffy stubble and dirty ears. She backed up and reached down for the dog. Beamer was having nothing of it and squirmed out of her grip and up onto the bench, trying to grab a view of the paper.

  “Beamer, come here,” she shouted.

  “Beamer? That’s a cute doggie name. What’s yours?” interjected the man, slime dripping from every word with over-inflated and irritating self love.

  “I’m Georgie,” he added, ignoring the dog, putting the paper down between him and the hound.