Clash of the Worlds

by Chris Columbus

  “Let’s go downstairs and see where we are,” Cordelia said.

  Brendan already knew where they were, and that knowledge almost tempted him to instead suggest that they run back up to the attic and hide like cowards. But he knew better. He knew that they would have to leave the house eventually in order to retrieve the Worldkeepers, and so they might as well not delay the inevitable.

  They cautiously descended the rickety, blackened spiral staircase into the house’s grand foyer and living room. Kristoff House had certainly seen better days. It was riddled with enough bullet holes to qualify it as a massive pasta strainer, the first floor was still flooded by a foot of water, it was tilting awkwardly, a ripped and wilted silver-and-red balloon draped over the broken windows on the left side of the house and trailed out into the sea like a massive tentacle, and the entire first floor looked like a crispy, burned marshmallow that fell off a stick and into a campfire. But somehow, amazingly, it still felt like home to the Walkers. It still carried with it the inherent safety that most homes do.

  “Okay, I’ll go first . . . ,” Brendan said, stepping up to the front door. He didn’t really want to, but felt it was his job as the new family leader.

  He slowly opened the door and then stared in shock at what greeted him on the other side. It was . . . himself. An exact replica of Brendan Walker stood on the other side of the front door, gaping right back at him!

  Brendan leaned forward to get a closer look at his duplicate. Clone Brendan did the exact same thing at the same time. Which is precisely when Brendan realized he wasn’t looking at a clone of himself, but rather a startlingly clear reflection.

  “It’s the sphere,” Eleanor said softly.

  She was right; the giant liquid-metal sphere had parked itself right outside the front door. They stared at it, growing collectively uneasy as they remembered how quickly and easily the sphere had vaporized half a dozen giant pterodactyls. The immense power of such a thing astonished and frightened them, even though it had saved their lives twice now.

  Adie stepped forward, not having seen any science-fiction or horror movies in her life, and thus perhaps having the least reason to be afraid. She moved past Brendan and gazed at the strange sphere with a look of bewildered wonder on her face. She reached out a hand as if to touch the sphere, but then lowered it quickly.

  “Thank you so much for saving our lives,” Adie said.

  “You are supremely welcome,” the sphere said back.

  The voice spoke English and sounded a lot more normal than any of them would have expected.

  “It speaks,” Eleanor said quietly.

  The sphere began shifting, the liquid metal near the bottom rippled out in concentric circles until it grew and formed a small rectangular opening, just four feet tall. A small alien emerged from the sphere. It was no taller than three-and-a-half feet, and probably under sixty pounds. It had grayish-purple skin that seemed to shimmer and shift like a cheap hologram, or the inside of an oyster shell. It had two large black eyes, no visible nose, and a small opening at the base of its oval head that likely passed for a mouth. The alien had two legs, two arms, and two four-fingered hands, and a silver space suit with odd green-and-blue symbols all over it.

  “Hello, unspecified organisms,” the alien said, waving two of its arms. “My acoustic title is called Gilbert.”

  “Gilbert?” Brendan said. “What kind of name is Gilbert for an alien?”

  “It is a seven-lettered title, meaning ‘bright pledge’ and derived from the Germanic elements gisil and beraht,” Gilbert explained calmly. “The Normans of planet earth introduced this name to the nation labeled England, where it was common during the Middle Ages. It was borne by a twelfth-century British saint, the founder of the religious order known as the Gilbertines. It is also the name of Gilbert du Motier, one of the greatest war heroes, and also—”

  “Never mind,” Brendan said. “Forget I asked.”

  “Why would you provide inquiry if an answer is not desired?” Gilbert countered.

  “It’s called a rhetorical question,” Brendan said.

  “Be nice,” Cordelia whispered. “This guy just saved us . . . twice.”

  “He’s so pretentious,” Brendan said. “Worse than you, even!”

  “Just go with it,” Cordelia said.

  Brendan nodded and turned back to Gilbert.

  “Okay, so you’re obviously . . . you’re an alien, right?”

  Gilbert made a surprisingly human chortling noise as if this was the stupidest question he’d ever heard.

  “I’m highly skeptical of the accuracy of such a conclusion,” Gilbert said. “You are unmistakably the extraterrestrials here. Furthermore, I am copiously advanced beyond your own existences.”

  “Seriously?” Brendan whispered to Cordelia.

  “I am at once everything and nothing,” Gilbert continued, swinging his two right arms up dramatically, as if he were overacting in a bad high-school play. “I am the end of all existence and the definition of infinity. I go where nothing else can exist and exist where everything else begins. I am All.”

  Brendan stared at Gilbert as he made his flamboyant speech, unsure if it was supposed to be a joke or not.

  The outlaw Lefty Payne seemed totally unimpressed. He crossed his arms and shook his head slowly.

  “It takes just a few words to speak the truth, partner,” Lefty said.

  “But it necessitates sundry words to express all truths everywhere,” Gilbert countered. “The burden of infinite knowledge is oppressive in a way none of you could possibly conceive.”

  “My sister Cordelia can,” Brendan quipped.

  Cordelia shook her head and scowled at Brendan.

  “That is exceedingly implausible,” Gilbert said, not getting that it was a joke.

  For a being that claimed to know everything, he certainly had an odd understanding of humor. Or lack of understanding.

  “So, you’re really powerful and all-knowing . . . like some sort of supreme being?” Eleanor asked.

  “I am beyond even the most supreme of beings,” Gilbert said. “I am exceptionally more knowledgeable, extraordinarily more powerful. And more handsome.”

  “Don’t forget more humble,” Brendan added.

  Cordelia shot Brendan a look. She figured he must have forgotten that Gilbert had just incinerated a dozen dinosaurs as if it were nothing. She didn’t think mocking such a being was a particularly smart thing to do. Luckily for them all, the sarcasm was completely lost on the little alien.

  “I am actually portraying my existence quite accurately,” Gilbert said, a hint of concern detectable in his even voice. “I do not under- or overrepresent my qualities. However, I can translate the complete magnitude of my knowledge into a binary table, if that would prove more detailed and suitable for your analysis?”

  “Never mind,” Brendan said. “It was just a joke.”

  “So, with all of your great knowledge,” Cordelia said, “that must mean you know who we are, where we’re from, and why we’re all here . . . right?”

  Gilbert hesitated for several seconds before providing an answer.

  “Correct,” he finally said.

  “Great!” Brendan said, grinning. “Because we need some help. I assume you can tell us what the three Worldkeepers are, and exactly where to find them?”

  “Correct!” Gilbert said much more quickly this time. “But I cannot disclose their exact location.”

  “Why not?” Brendan asked, suspecting the arrogant little alien had no idea what the Worldkeepers were.

  “Because it would then remove the inherent value of the ensuing exploration,” Gilbert said. “The true significance of one human lifespan lies in the excursion, not the endpoint.”

  Cordelia groaned loudly. She hated the saying “it’s about the journey, not the destination” more than anything else she’d ever heard, including the disgusting fact that the Wind Witch was her own relative. Of course life was about the destination, because w
here would anybody be without goals? Even still, Gilbert was clearly a being of immense power that could probably be extremely useful at some point—so she was going to be nice regardless.

  “Well, then,” Cordelia said. “Maybe you’d like to join us on our excursion? Even if you already know what’s going to happen, it might be fun to be there to witness it firsthand.”

  “Precisely,” Gilbert said. “I shall supplement you thusly.”

  “Great, welcome aboard!” Brendan said sarcastically.

  “Welcome aboard what?” Gilbert replied, looking around Kristoff House. “This appears to be a domicile. Not an aquatic or intergalactic vessel of any sort.”

  “I meant welcome to the team, thanks for joining us, blah, blah, blah,” Brendan said.

  “What is this meaning . . . blah blah blah?” Gilbert asked.

  “I’ll explain it later,” Brendan said with a sigh, and then turned back to the rest of the group. “Guys . . . I have some good news and some bad news.”

  “What’s the good news?” Eleanor asked.

  “Before the dinosaur attack, I found out where to find the three Worldkeepers.”

  “And the bad news?”

  “The Worldkeepers are each in a completely different book, spread out across the book world map,” Brendan said. “Which means we’re going to have to split up in order to get them.”

  “No,” Eleanor pleaded.

  “There’s got to be another way, Bren,” Cordelia said.

  “I’ve been trying to think of something,” Brendan said. “But it feels like the only solution.”

  “What about him?” Eleanor asked, pointing to the small alien.

  “Gilbert?” Brendan asked. “How could he solve this problem?”

  “Maybe he can fit all of us inside his sphere,” Eleanor suggested. “I bet that thing can go, like, hyper-sonic-galactic-light-speed. . . . We’d probably be able to get all three Worldkeepers in no time.”

  “There is no such quantifiable rate as hyper-sonic-galactic-light-speed,” Gilbert replied. “Also, my craft is only equipped to transport one passenger. Especially for beings of such substantial and considerable girth as yourselves.”

  “Did he just call us fat?” Cordelia asked, pulling down her shirt self-consciously.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Adie assured her. “To him, everyone is fat.”

  “Do we really have to split up, Bren?” Eleanor asked.

  “Unfortunately, I think so,” Brendan said. “I really wish we didn’t have to—I wish there was another way. But . . . um, Cordelia, you should probably wait in the other room while I explain . . .”

  “Why?” Adie asked.

  “Because she’s linked to our mortal enemy, the Wind Witch,” Brendan said. “We can’t risk that old hag finding out any more information about our mission. . . . Look at my sister’s eyes.”

  “I see they have transitioned into an unsettling shade of blue,” Gilbert said. “But it is not wholly unattractive, even for creatures as amply constituted and unappealing as yourselves.”

  “When this happens,” Brendan explained, “it means the Wind Witch can hear and see everything she does. So, Deal . . . you should probably leave now.”

  Cordelia hesitated before exiting, but then frowned and walked into the blackened library. Of course leaving was the right thing to do when the Wind Witch was in her head. But it still didn’t make it sting any less. The worst part was knowing that it was her fault the link existed—since apparently her own mind was the worst place ever, which is precisely where Eleanor had banished the Wind Witch for using The Book of Doom and Desire.

  Back in the living room, Brendan stood in front of Eleanor, Adie, Lefty, and Gilbert. He took a deep breath. There was a lot to explain. There was a lot he’d found out in that short ride to the island, but still a whole lot more they needed to figure out.

  “The main problem is that I still don’t know exactly what the three Worldkeepers are,” Brendan began. “Denver’s Journal is kind of . . . vague in that regard.”

  “What!?” Eleanor nearly shouted. “Then how are we supposed to find them?”

  “The Journal does tell us which specific books the Worldkeepers are hidden in,” Brendan said.

  “Does it tell us where exactly we might be able to find them in the books?” Eleanor asked.

  “Not really, but there are some clues,” Brendan said.

  “Now, wait just a second,” Adie said loudly, her face contorted into a mixture of frustration and confusion. “What in the heck are these Worldkeepers . . . and being inside of books? This is getting awfully strange . . . and now I want some answers!”

  Brendan had to admit that somehow, frustrated and angry Adie was even cuter than smiley, happy Adie. It was distracting.

  “We’re in the book world right now,” Brendan said, choosing his words carefully.

  “But what about our world?” Adie asked, motioning to her and Lefty. “Where we come from?”

  “I also raise inquiry over this issue,” Gilbert added. “By what mechanism did we voyage into the aforesaid ‘book world’?”

  “What have you kids gotten me into?” Lefty added darkly.

  Brendan paused, debating how to proceed.

  “Uh, well, it’s complicated,” he eventually said.

  Brendan and Eleanor exchanged a glance. They remembered how hard it had been for other book characters, like Will and Felix, to take the news—and some were not able to comprehend it at all. Brendan studied Adie’s distraught face, then glanced at Lefty and Gilbert, who were both watching him intently. And Brendan realized that he had to lie. There simply wasn’t the time to try and explain to two people and an alien that they were all figments of some dead guy’s imagination.

  “This all has nothing to do with you—and we’re so sorry we dragged you into our mess,” Brendan said. “So trying to explain it would be a waste of time—something we don’t have. But I promise if you help us find these Worldkeepers, then we will take you all back home very soon. Everything will be as it should again.”

  Eleanor looked surprised, but then she smiled thinly and nodded in agreement.

  Adie hesitated, still frowning. Lefty stared at Brendan’s face steadily with his slate-gray and hard eyes. As if he could see right through every single lie he’d ever been told. But eventually they both nodded too. Gilbert watched this all with interest, apparently ready to tackle anything, regardless of the how or why.

  “I still don’t think it’s fair at all that you come to our homes and get us wrapped up in this mess,” Adie finally said. “And then won’t even explain what is going on. It ain’t right. But if you need help and you’re telling us it’s important, and if it will get us home faster, then I’ll do whatever I can.”

  “Lefty?” Brendan asked, turning toward the one-armed outlaw.

  The man’s eyes seemed to glow under the shadow of his wide hat brim. His fake hand was tucked into his shirt, which Brendan had noticed was where the man generally liked to keep it.

  “Okay,” Lefty growled. “I’ll help you find these Worldkeeper things. But I’m only doing it to keep myself alive. I still think you kids are more valuable to me alive than dead.”

  “Noted,” Brendan said. “Gilbert?”

  “You will be supremely honored to have my company,” Gilbert said.

  “Love the modesty,” Brendan said. “Okay then . . .”

  Brendan cleared his throat, dying for just a simple drink of water. Something he hadn’t had in almost twenty-four hours now. Then he held up the Journal and began reading the passage about the Worldkeepers.

  “‘The first Worldkeeper,’” Brendan read Denver’s words, “‘is hidden within my fantasy novel The Lost City. It rests deep inside the Eternal Abyss, in the Forbidden Zone.’”

  “What’s the Forbidden Zone?” Eleanor interrupted. “That doesn’t sound like somewhere we should go.”

  “Supposedly, it’s near the city of Atlantis in the book The Lost City,”
Brendan said as he referenced the pages of the Journal again. “The Forbidden Zone is a place that the citizens of Atlantis are terrified of. Kristoff created a ‘fearsome and malevolent creature’ called the Iku-Turso, which guards the Worldkeeper there.”

  “But it doesn’t describe what this Worldkeeper is?” Eleanor asked.

  “Unfortunately, no,” Brendan said. “That’s where old Denver gets a little confusing. He writes: ‘This Worldkeeper is a talisman serving as one part of three—that when combined comprise a key between two worlds. But on its own, it is also a powerful emblem of truth. Those who wear the talisman as intended can see into the very souls of friends and foes alike.’”

  Brendan stopped reading, allowing Eleanor, Adie, Lefty, and Gilbert time to take it in. He hoped they were less confused than he was. Although Denver called the item a talisman, Brendan had to admit that he didn’t entirely know what that was. But at least there was a fairly detailed description of where to find it—inside the Eternal Abyss within the Forbidden Zone near the Lost City of Atlantis. Of course, they’d still have to get past the undoubtedly terrifying Iku-Turso.

  A few moments later, Brendan cleared his throat again, and began reading Denver’s description of the second item.

  “‘The second Worldkeeper lies within my science-fiction novel The Terror on Planet 5X. This particular Worldkeeper never rests. It is always on the move—it goes to places where it is most needed while keeping its vessel alive. However, once this Worldkeeper is freed from its armor, it gains even more power.’”

  “Does it say what kind of power?” Eleanor asked.

  “Supposedly, the person who ‘releases’ the Worldkeeper will be granted the opportunity to travel back in time once and reverse a terrible mistake,” Brendan said.

  His throat was growing scratchy, so he quickly moved on to Denver Kristoff’s description of the third and final Worldkeeper.

  “‘The last Worldkeeper is buried in my novel Wazner’s Revenge,’” he read. “‘Which is about an ancient Egyptian king who guards his most prized possessions, even in the afterlife. This particular item is the most powerful of all Worldkeepers. It can be used for incredible acts of both evil and righteousness. It is buried in a labyrinth of treacherous traps and secret passageways. Locating it will be impossible without the use of a secret map, designed by perhaps the most evil organization in the history of mankind in order to lead them back to their stolen bounties of war. This Worldkeeper is infinitely powerful. No mortally made substance can withstand its wicked edges.’”