Squinting into the bright light, she discovered herself back atop the hill overlooking Piedmont Elementary. Philamount wasn't with her, but then again, neither was the werewolf.
Five minutes later, when she had stopped shivering, he appeared amidst a splash of color.
"Oh, here you are," he said with annoyance. "When I said to pick an image of home, obviously I meant The Hub, not this place."
Carole bristled. "Kind of hard to do when I don't even know what The Hub looks like. Besides, its not like you gave me much warning."
"Miss Sylphwood, it is your response to a warning--any warning--that matters." Philamount sniffed, dismissing her irritation with a wave of his hand. "What is also significant is that your unexpected adventure has provided us with some extremely valuable information."
"What sort of information?"
"For one, we discovered that it was quite easy for me to trigger your latent transdimensional jumping abilities."
"You chucked me off the second floor of witch hall."
"True, but given we had little choice, it seemed the proper thing to do."
"I suppose it did work," she admitted. "Did we learn anything else?"
"We learned that I could not maintain my hold on you once we crossed into the void. Thus, I am now certain that you cannot return to The Hub with me through my own tunnel."
"Was that the rainbow colored tube you were inside?"
"Rainbow colored? You actually saw the tunnel?"
"It looked like a long, skinny tornado."
"How extraordinary! But of course, it all fits..."
"Wait a minute, what about the witches?"
"The witches?"
"They might still need our help!"
"Whatever for?"
"The werewolf!"
"Oh, they're perfectly fine."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Miss Sylphwood, exactly where do you think I've been these past few minutes? When I saw that you hadn't accompanied me to The Hub, naturally I returned to the Nightshade Realm, just in case."
"In case? In case what?"
"There was always the slightest possibility, though I was reasonably certain your natural abilities would activate, that you, um...might have splatted." Philamount quickly added, "My dear Miss Sylphwood, as I've said before, these are confusing and dangerous times, but under the circumstances you performed brilliantly."
"So what did happen after we left?" Carole said.
"Apparently as you and I leapt from the building, a couple dozen cats, led by a rather lionish looking feline, leapt onto the werewolf. I'm afraid that after the cats were finished with it, there wasn't much left of the poor creature."
"Eewww! And Mariat?"
"Mariat?"
"My witchling friend. She tried to protect me from the wolf."
"Ah, that would be the child wearing a sack of ice on her head. It seems that in all the commotion she somehow collided with the floor. Knocked senseless for a time."
"Was she badly hurt?"
"Not at all. A tough breed those witches. Takes a lot more than a knocked noggin to keep one of them down for long. In fact she wanted you to have this." Melodious removed a small package from his pocket and handed it to Carole.
"What is it?"
"Judging by the smell, I'd hypothesize a bar of wolfbane soap."
Carole was about to question the professor further, when he held up his hand, "We really must return to more pressing matters, Miss Sylphwood. Your little field trip has indeed been profitable, but it has also cost us a great deal of time. Time which is all too quickly slipping away."
He sat on the grass beside her, tugged a loose thread from a rip in his pant leg, and held it up to his eyes for inspection. "It is unlikely that you remember events as such, but at the time of The Great Conundrum a two-and-a-half year old multitasker by the name of Carole Sylphwood vanished, along with the Monobrain Dimensional Connector. And the Monobrain Universe itself, I might add."
He balled-up the thread and flicked it away. "I didn't believe it to be mere coincidence that nine years later I should happen upon a twelvish looking Carole Wood multitasking about the Monobrain Realm, tantalizingly close to a dimensional connector. It was obvious to me that Carole Wood, the monobrain, and Carole Sylphwood, the multitasker, were one and the same. And I imagine that you yourself no longer have doubts?"
"I suppose not, but what exactly are you... Am I?"
"At last to the heart of the matter. As you now know, we multitaskers reside at The Hub. It is a simple name but definitely not a simple place. It is the meeting place of this and every other universe currently in existence."
"Every other universe?"
"The Ghostly Spirit and Monobrain Realms are but two of thousands of universes. These different dimensions are neatly and precisely linked to The Hub, like the spokes of a bicycle wheel, and we multitaskers travel to them. We've even managed to visit monobrains on occasion, which is how this whole nasty mess began."
"What mess?"
"Why The Great Conundrum of course." The professor pressed his fingertips together and peered thoughtfully at her between them. "Technically speaking, a multitasker doesn't actually jump to a different dimension but rather to the beings living in that dimension. If there is enough commonality between us and them, we can create a mental bridge and with the help of a connector jump over for a visit. It can be a lot of fun, but it requires a good deal of training and a great deal of concentration."
He furrowed his eyebrows into a fuzzy vee. "A jumper must be extremely focused and single-minded, while at the same time flexible enough to trust his intuition. Otherwise he gets totally confused and ends up spinning around in circles until..."
"Until Point Puke! Oh, I get it now."
"Precisely. For many students, even years of training is not enough. They simply don't have what it takes. And unfortunately, a flexible mind is still no guarantee when dealing with the monobrains!"
"How so?"
"Miss Sylphwood, you of all people should know the answer to that question. It is because monobrains are the most stubborn creatures in all of existence."
"Not Hal."
"Indeed?" Philamount raised an eyebrow.
"Indeed. He always said someone like you'd turn up."
"How extraordinary."
"Yes he is. And anyway, if monobrains are such a problem, why bother with them at all? I mean what's the big deal about one measly planet if you've got millions of others to visit? "
"We bother because we must."
"Why?"
"Because the monobrains are refusing to evolve."
"So what? I mean I'm certainly not defending them, but what's it matter to you what they do?"
"It matters because by not evolving, they're holding the rest of us back."
"How can they be holding you back?"
"It's just the way things work; one of the universal laws. No one can be left behind, and these people are about as far behind as they can possibly get, without actually devolving."
"So you're stuck until you can get the monobrains to move forward?"
"Precisely."
Carole snorted. "Fat chance of that!"
"You have a firm grasp of our dilemma."
"Wait a minute. That must mean multitaskers still visit; still come here."
"In the past a few have managed. Now it's impossible."
"No it's not. You're here."
"Technically I am still in the Nightshade Realm. You are able to see me only because of the dimensional overlay, but as soon as our two dimensions drift apart, you and I shall also go our separate ways."
Her belly lurched with the realization.
"Yes, now you understand fully. Stand up please," Professor Philamount rose in one fluid motion.
"Are we going somewhere?"
"I would be extremely remiss if I didn't prepare you as best I can, in the time remaining."
"Prepare me for what?"
"For what awaits."
/>
* * *
- 10 -
Carole wasn't able to resist. "So, does everyone else at the Hub look like you?"
Professor Philamount, his long fingers resting on his thin hips, looked very much like a scarecrow, an irritated scarecrow.
"Well?"
His frown deepened.
"It's just that you say I'm from the Hub but, no offense, we don't exactly look alike. I resemble the average monobrain a lot more than I resemble you. How can you be so certain I really am the lost multitasker?"
"You have certainly mastered monobrains' ill-bred and discourteous habits. Now would you please demonstrate your soft-walking skills."
"What?"
"Soft-walk."
Carole tiptoed across the grass.
"What are you doing?"
"Walking softly, like you asked."
"I did not ask you to walk softly. I asked you to soft-walk." With the subtlest of motions, Philamount's body lifted, to hover barely an inch above the grass.
Carole peered under his toes. "You did that the other night, too. But how? There's nothing sharp beneath."
"What has sharpness to do with soft-walking?"
"I can only glide over dangerous stuff." She spied a large thistle nearby. "Like this," She tried to jump on it and slid harmlessly over the plant.
Philamount pursed his lips, stretching them out until his face looked rather aardvarkish. "And this method works whenever there's danger underfoot?"
"Saved me from the mist."
"Rather shoddy technique, but I suppose it'll do." He sat down and motioned for Carole to do likewise.
"Professor Philamount," Carole said, before he could speak again, "you never answered my question. What do people at the Hub look like?"
"Exactly as they feel. How else would you expect someone to look? And just what is this obsession you have with appearances, Miss Sylphwood? Is it associated with some obscure monobrain custom?"
"Sort of."
"You'd be well advised to forget about being a good little monobrain and instead concentrate on the business of multitasking yourself home."
"What? I thought you we're coming to get me."
"No. As I've already explained to you, each universe is anchored to The Hub by its own unique dimensional connector, so in order to reach your Monobrain Realm, I'd need to jump through the monobrain connector."
"Then do it. Go back to The Hub and jump into the monobrain connector!"
"Miss Sylphwood, you are forgetting that the monobrain connector is no longer tethered to The Hub. It is somewhere around here."
"So what am I supposed to do?"
"We are doing it now."
"What?"
"Preparing you to make your own way back to The Hub."
"How?"
"The same way you visited The Westhill Witches. By multitasking."
"But I don't know what I did, or even what I'm doing here in the first place."
"An interesting series of coincidences, so I've been told. Apparently you were standing near the linkage point at the time of The Great Conundrum. When the connector snapped off, it must have scooped you up and deposited you on this planet."
"The Great Conundrum. Was that some sort of bomb?"
"In a manner of speaking. The Great Conundrum was a result of the Terrible Tiff, and the Terrible Tiff was a result of these monobrains." Melodious straightened his legs and began wiggling one toe after another until they were undulating like a sea fan in the surf. "For some time now, we have been trying to get the monobrains to focus on things that really matter."
"Evolving."
"Precisely. For instance, long ago we sent in MSL instructors."
"MSL?"
"Multitasking as a Second Language."
"And?"
"The cretins tried to burn them at the stake."
Carole shuddered.
"Oh, our instructors escaped easily enough, though their monobrain students weren't always so lucky. Since then we've tried less dangerous methods."
"Such as?"
"Such as projecting transdimensional imagery onto their brains while they were asleep."
"Didn't work?"
"Woke up screaming about flying saucers and alien abductions. In short, nothing's worked. Eventually talk turned to the idea of abandoning the monobrains altogether."
"I didn't think that was allowed?"
"It isn't, which is why those discussions led to The Terrible Tiff."
"What's that?"
"Two esteemed Hub philosophers, Snively Hotspot and Meron Seafeather, have become the focus of the monobrain dilemma. Seafeather doesn't want to give up on the monobrains. He feels we just need to find the proper approach. Hotspot figures if we look the other way until they destroy themselves, our problem will be solved. The two have been debating the subject for years. Once Seafeather even went so far as to propose bringing monobrains to The Hub to try and jumpstart their brains."
"Like shock treatment."
Philamount nodded. "But Hotspot said the idea was preposterous, that monobrains were alarmingly unpredictable and vicious creatures, and that misplacing even one of their kind could endanger the entire cosmos. As I've said, the two have fought it out for years--in a very civilized manner of course--and over time, more and more multitaskers have taken sides in the debate. 'Leave them alone... Shake them awake... Send in more teachers... Teach the pigs.' That sort of thing.
"Seafeather and Hotspot debates were guaranteed crowd pleasers, and they sold out every performance. In fact, the men became quite the celebrities about The Hub, but eventually it all sort of went to their heads, and they began to take it a little too personally."
"Meaning what, exactly?"
"Meaning that this Monobrain Realm was beginning to influence the professors, and a number of other multitaskers, in such a way that they began to act in a very uncharacteristic manner, a manner now known as The Monobrain Effect. Meaning that ultimately the debates became nasty, and well, turned into a Terrible Tiff. And then it happened."
The professor closed his eyes, as if to recall the scene. "It was a spectacular performance by Seafeather. He really wowed the audience. Perhaps he wowed them a little too much, because the very next morning, a group of gifted, though short-sighted, graduates decided to put his theory to the test and they...um...invited a monobrain to The Hub."
"Invited a monobrain?" Carole arched her eyebrows in an imitation of his.
"Sort of against his will," he added, clearing his throat.
"You mean they kidnapped him?"
"Not a very enlightened thing to do, I admit, but they were only students after all and really meant no harm."
"And?"
"The monobrain refused to believe anything that was happening to him."
"So what's the big deal about that?"
"The big deal," the professor said quietly, "was The Great Conundrum."
"You mean..."
"I mean Kablooey! Bringing that closed-minded, inflexible monobrain to The Hub, was like throwing a canon ball into a stained glass window. Our world shattered into a thousand pieces. Buildings collapsed, storms raged, dimensions snapped off. It has taken us these past nine years to rebuild The Hub--better than ever I might add--and to track down and reconnect all of the missing dimensions. All, that is, except one."
"That would be mine." Carole sighed.
"Correct."
"But why only this one?"
"Because when the other dimensions broke away, their connectors stayed behind. The presence of that monobrain at The Hub caused such a stress on the monobrain connector, that it tore right out of its mooring, and without that link you were on your own.
"Arghthelprragnitleeriall!"
Carole jumped. "What's the matter?"
"Arghthelprragnitleeriall!"
"Do you feel sick? Are you choking?"
"What am I saying? Arghthelprragnitleeriall!"
"I haven't the foggiest."
"Come on, come on,
translate my words. Arghthelprragnitleeriall!"
"What words?"
"Translate them telepathically. Arghthelprragnitleeriall!"
Carole giggled. "I'm sorry," she hastily added, noticing his face darken, "but it sounds like your clearing your throat."
"This is the language of the Algeronian steeds from the Tiburian Realm. Really Miss Sylphwood, do you think everyone speaks English?"
"Well I--"
"Ignore the words and translate my thoughts. Many species do not articulate words. Others have no mouths."
"Well..."
"Telepathic translation is the preferred method of communication. Concentrate. Arghthelprragnitleeriall!"
"I dunno, some sort of warning, maybe?"
"Focus on my thoughts not my sound."
"Wait a minute," Carole said, stalling for time, "you never told me what happened to the monobrain. Is he still stuck at The Hub, or did he get dumped like me?"
Philamount suddenly turned his attention to a dirty toenail. "We...ah..." He began picking at the toe. "...assume the other half of him returned to the Monobrain Realm relatively safe and sound."
"The other half... You mean he...? Oh gross! Was he the only one?"
"Fortunately, yes. Amazing as it seems, the monobrain and you were the only two casualties, at least on our world."
"It's not fair! I had nothing to do with this Tiff, yet I'm the one who gets dragged off."
Melodious shrugged his shoulders. "Arghthelprragnitleeriall."
"Time's running out," Carole said without thinking.
"Correct."
"It was?"
"Next, plasticate please."
"Whaticate?"
"Plasticate. Alter your features." He demonstrated by flapping his ears until they'd stretched past his shoulders.
"Oh." Carole held out her arm and bent it back like a bow.
"That's it?"
"I can do this, too," she said, and wrapped one leg around her neck like a scarf.
* * *
- 11 -
"Pathetic, Miss Sylphwood. On average, your multitasking skills match those of a preschooler."
The Lost Witch Page 6