As he spoke and understanding seemed to light up the old man’s face, Sam couldn’t help but to think he had met him before. Where could it have been, though? He was sure it was just that the man had familiar features. That had to be it.
“Oh, oh!” the man crowed. “You speak English. Fascinating!” He hopped excitedly as he made the statement.
The man’s movements triggered a memory. “I know you,” Sam exclaimed. “I sat in on one of your lectures once. You’re Dr. Walter Wicket!”
Chapter 6
Nalia Wroun was conflicted as she watched the strange man speaking a foreign language with Dr. Walt. She was not sure she should not just put a blade through the stranger and be done with it. Things in her life were normally straightforward. Being constantly on the run to stay alive will do that for you.
She looked at the stranger speaking with Dr. Walt again and wondered what the two were discussing. Dr. Walt was hopping around like an ahu bird. He was obviously excited by the newcomer, excited to speak his native language. Sometimes Nalia forgot that he was from another world, forgot that he himself was a stranger here. He had been here a long time.
Her father, Rindu Zose, was but a few feet away, standing like a statue, not looking at her or the two men, or even at the creature—was that a hapaki?—that remained as motionless as her father. Rindu would move, if needed, and faster than these untrained men could believe. For now, though, he would remain as he was, hardly appearing to breathe. It would be a mistake to think that he did not notice and remember every gesture, every facial expression, everything that was going on around him. He was a warrior first and foremost, and the wisest and most capable man she had ever known.
Taking a deep breath, focusing her mind, she relaxed her body and assumed a posture not unlike that of her father. She would wait, patiently, while the two men spoke. She would ask Dr. Walt later what they had spoken about. In the meantime, she would emulate her father.
Nalia thought back to her life in these last nine years and how much it had changed. Hers was a unique circumstance. With her father being one of the Zouyim mages and her mother of the Sapsyra women warriors, she was chosen and trained from infancy in the way of the Sapsyr.
The Sapsyra Shin Elah, meaning Swords or Daggers of God in Old Kasmali, were a class of warriors, the best in the world, all female. From their compound in the forests of the Marybador region, the warriors worked for the good of all, battling corruption and evil in the world.
Nalia’s training was extensive, and included not only tutelage from her mother and the other Sapsyra in the combat arts but also from her father. He was one of the Zouyim, the vibratory energy masters on Gythe, monks whose whole life involved “magic.” With such training, it was no great surprise that at only 12 years of age, Nalia passed her testing to become the youngest Sapsyr recorded in the order’s history. And her skills had only grown since then.
She glanced at the sky and saw that the afternoon thunder showers would soon develop. How long would the two men talk? With looks to the motionless figures of her father and the hapaki again, she redoubled her focus to rein in her wandering mind.
She did not like the chance occurrence of meeting this stranger, did not trust him. True, he did not look like much of a threat, but one could not be too careful. He was fit, there was no doubt, but he was so clumsy! The way he moved was as a normal villager or farmer, not a warrior. Still, a skilled actor could feign clumsiness and act in an uncoordinated manner. And he did seem to radiate some kind of power. She wondered if her father sensed power in him as well.
The Gray Man’s assassins were everywhere. Who was to say that this man was not one of them? It could be as it was three years ago, when they were forced to flee for their lives…again. She remembered it clearly.
The woman stumbled into their encampment, bloodied, beaten, and wearing only rags.
“Please,” she said as she collapsed in front of Dr. Walt, “help me.”
After she had been cleaned up and given food and water, the woman sat huddled in the cloak they put around her, shivering. “I was just walking the path from the river to my village when the men came upon me.” She stopped for a moment and sobbed softly into the cloak.
“They were a rough sort, dirty and mean looking. There were at least six of them, but maybe there were more. I only know that six of them mounted me, one after the other, each punching or kicking me as I screamed. I did not have the strength to stop them.”
Dr. Walt went to put his arm around her, but she flinched away and her eyes grew wide, darting back and forth, looking for a way to escape. Nalia sat down next to her and soothed her, hugging her and telling her it was all right, that she was safe.
When asked, she stated simply, “My name is Cristin.”
Cristin stayed with them for a time after that. They treated her injuries, fed her, gave her new clothes to replace the torn garments, and tried to make her feel more comfortable and less afraid.
“Can you teach me to fight?” she asked Nalia one day. “I have seen you carry weapons and think that you are a warrior. I bet you never need to worry about some petty bandits raping and beating you.”
“I can teach you.” Nalia answered
The woman seemed to have no aptitude for fighting, but Nalia was able to show her some basic self-defense movements that would keep her from being a victim in the future, as long as she kept her wits about her and did not panic.
Over the course of more than a month, she also learned not to shy away every time one of the men in the compound went near her. Her physical injuries were almost completely healed and she seemed ready to go back to her village. Nalia, her father, and Dr. Walt were happy they had been able to help her.
Then, one night, the Gray Man’s men came. It was Cristin’s turn to keep watch, a responsibility she was granted after asking if there was any more she could do to repay their kindness to her. Luckily, or probably more correctly, due to training and constant vigilance, Rindu sensed something was amiss and woke to hear the woman whispering with others. He feigned sleep and listened. He was unable to wake anyone else without revealing himself, so he remained motionless, listened, and waited.
Though the assassins were very quiet, Rindu easily tracked their movements with his senses. He waited until they were close and then sprung up, attacking. The noise woke Nalia immediately and she joined the battle in seconds. By the time Dr. Walt had roused and made his way out of his tent, all of the assassins were dead.
Cristin was still alive, but barely. With a hole in her chest from one of the assassin’s blades Nalia had thrown from a dozen yards away, she sputtered and wheezed, trying to remain upright on her knees as her chest oozed fluids.. At last, she gathered enough breath and whispered, unable to manage a normal volume, “He will get you. The Gray Man…will…get…” and then collapsed onto her face and stopped moving.
Nalia recalled how stupid she had felt, how ignorant, how…betrayed. She swore that she would not be taken in again. She swore that she would not blindly trust someone in the future. One time was enough. They were lucky to be alive and she did not believe in relying on luck. Surely she had used up her whole supply by now. They had packed up their temporary home and gone out in search of another, on the run again.
No, she would not be fooled again. The Gray Man had been stepping up his activity lately, trying to find her and her father, and she would not allow someone to jeopardize that. She was more than willing to kill a few people that perhaps did not need killing if it meant that she would protect her family from the ones that did need killing.
The conversation between Dr. Walt and the stranger seemed to be winding down for now. Dr. Walt acted as if he trusted the stranger immediately, but then, he was not a warrior. He was a scribe, a librarian, a thinker. He trusted too much and too easily. This man was from his home world, so Dr. Walt would want to trust him, especially considering the only other person from his world who was here in Gythe.
Turning to Nalia and Rindu, Dr. Walt said, i
n Kasmali so they could understand, “Nalia, Rindu, please let me introduce to you Sam Sharp. He is from my world, the world from which the Gray Man also comes. I think he can help us and maybe we him. He will join us at our camp. Let’s hurry before the showers come.”
Chapter 7
Sam was astounded. Dr. Wicket! Here, in this world. Now he could get some answers. It was enough that the man could speak the same language as him, but more than that, the doctor was an expert on his theories about vibrational energy use. The same theories that Sam researched to find a way to get here the second time. If there was anyone in both worlds that could help him, Sam knew it was this man.
“Please, call me Walt, or Dr. Walt, if you insist on being formal” the scarecrow-like man said to Sam. “People here don’t even know what a doctor is. They think ‘doctor’ is my first name.” He laughed.
“Ok, Dr. Walt it is. I have a lot of questions to ask you, the first of which is where are we? Or should I ask ‘when are we?’”
Dr. Walt looked into Sam’s eyes, “Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? Let me see if I can give you the short version.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he was able to make a sound, he stopped. His eyes lit up and he looked past Sam, toward Skitter. His mouth dropped open and he put both hands in his shaggy hair and pulled it back out of his face. “Is that a hapaki? A real, live hapaki?” He was now goggling at the furry creature hungrily. A jolt of fear entered Sam’s mind from Skitter. Fear he was about to be eaten.
Sam looked behind him and, for the first time since Dr. Walt’s arrival, noticed that Skitter was still in the same spot, motionless. Skitter? Sam sent. Are…you…ok?
Fine, the sending came, but Skitter still didn’t move, except for the trembling Sam could clearly see. Feelings of terror filtered into Sam’s mind from his friend.
They…not…harm, Sam sent. Excited…see…you. Can…communicate or…hear…thoughts…any…these? Sam asked his friend.
No.
Looking into his friend’s large green eyes, he sent: No…worry. Friends. Relax. Skitter didn’t move, but the feeling of tension eased a little bit. That would have to do.
“Ummmmm, hapaki?” asked Sam. “You mean Skitter there? He’s my friend.”
The doctor, still not taking his eyes off Skitter, continued: “Your friend? Ah, oh, ok. We’ll talk about that in a moment. Yes, indeed, hapaki. The word is from Old Kasmali. That’s an ancient language, you know. It’s different than the contemporary Kasmali, which I suppose is why it is called ‘Old Kasmali,’ but different, too, from Ancient Kasmali. If it was the same as the Kasmali used nowadays, I suppose it would just be called Kasmali, eh? Of course, when Old Kasmali and Ancient Kasmali were being spoken, perhaps they were just called Kasmali then. Hmmm, now there’s an interesting thought.
“Anyway, anyway,” he said, waving the words away, “the name hapaki means something like ‘shove’ or ‘kick over.’ Apparently, in the rare sightings of these creatures, they have been observed moving rocks for various uses, pushing them with their heads or even shoving them with their front paws. Fascinating, just fascinating! I have never seen one. In fact, most people have never seen one in the last several hundred years. Why is it just standing there?”
“He’s afraid that you want to eat him,” Sam told him. “Apparently that’s how they deal with fear.”
“‘He?’” Dr. Walt asked. “Don’t you mean ‘it?’”
“No, he’s my friend. He’s not an ‘it.’”
The doctor’s wrinkled face flushed. “Pardon me, my boy, but I meant no offense. You see, hapaki have no gender. They are asexual, starting the reproduction cycle at will. They can do it alone, though the entire community apparently helps in the upbringing of young ones. As I said, absolutely fascinating. I suppose you could refer to…ahem…him as a him, or as a her for that matter, but scientifically speaking, he is neither male nor female.”
It was Sam’s turn to be embarrassed. He reddened slightly, looking over at his friend. “Oh, I see. He just seemed like a ‘him’ to me. Hold on a moment, let me check.”
Sam directed his thoughts to Skitter: Mind…if I…call…you… “him?” knowing that Skitter could read Sam’s thoughts to decipher what “him” was.
Fine. Male…is…boss…your…home? Fine. Skitter sent back.
“Ok,” Sam said, turning to the doctor, “he’s fine with me calling him ‘him.’ He said something about how where I’m from, the ‘him’ is boss, so he’s cool with it.” Sam laughed at the idea.
If at all possible, Dr. Walt’s jaw dropped even lower and his eyes grew even wider. “What? Are you trying to tell me that you can communicate with him, and that he is intelligent?”
Sam was puzzled. “Of course. I thought you were the expert on hapaki here. Doesn’t your research indicate that they communicate mind-to-mind?”
“Mind to…uh…wha…I…ummm…” The doctor took a breath and stared at Sam, and then at the hapaki, and then at Sam again. He fished a small crude book from one of his pockets, what looked like a homemade pencil from another, and wrote a note. “No. My research indicates nothing of the kind. Like I said, they are very rare. We will have to discuss this later. For now, let me tell you a bit about where we are and what you, and perhaps I, can do about it.”
As Sam settled in to listen to Dr. Walt, Skitter sent to him: Hapaki? Push…shove? Push…better…than pull. Less…effort. If he didn’t know better, Sam would swear that the hapaki was laughing. With him, or at him.
Sam chuckled out loud. Dr. Walt looked at him questioningly. “Oh,” Sam said, flushing again, “I was just laughing at what Skitter said.”
The look did not leave Dr. Walt’s face.
“He was laughing about the name ‘hapaki,’ and its meaning. He said that pushing is better than pulling, more efficient, so he doesn’t have a problem with that name. I’m finding that he has a fine sense of humor.” Casting a sidelong glance at the hapaki, he continued, “Maybe too fine a sense of humor. Sometimes I get the sense he’s laughing at me.”
Dr Walt’s face lit up, crinkling into a huge smile. “Oh, I can’t wait to hear more about your furry friend there. But for now, let us speak of other things.
“The place you find yourself is called Gythe, from an Old Kasmali term meaning ‘the physical world.’ Here, the place you and I come from is called Telani, meaning ‘shadow.’ Obviously, there is a bias here because the ancient scholars decided that our world, Telani, or Earth if you prefer, was just a shadow of theirs. Who is to say? They may be right.
“In any case, the two worlds actually occupy the same physical space. Now, I think I need to figure out how to explain this adequately to you.”
Sam raised a hand to get the doctor’s attention and then interrupted. “Actually, I read your book and as much other information I could find on the internet about your work. There were even a few video clips I was able to locate. I think I have a pretty good understanding of vibrational energies and different vibrational planes.”
“Wonderful, wonderful,” Dr. Walt responded. “Well, then, that makes it easier. So, you understand that all matter is constantly vibrating, that the vibrations are part of the building blocks of everything, atoms and such. You also have read, no doubt, that ancient civilizations harnessed types of vibrational energies for healing, moving large objects, and other things, mundane and fantastic. Too, you are obviously familiar with how vibrations can be changed to phase things from our world to others, such as this one. Your very presence here is a testament to that.”
He noted Sam’s nod and took it as confirmation. “Ok. Let’s say, for example, that our world, Telani, vibrates at a rate based on the number 1. So, for every one time unit, a vibration occurs. Good. Now, let’s say that this world, Gythe, vibrates at a rate based on the number 7. So, for every seven time units, a vibration occurs. In that case, the two worlds would only vibrate together every seven time units, correct? Though Telani vibrates every one unit, including t
he seventh, and Gythe only vibrates on the seventh, that would be the only time they vibrate together. At least until the 14th time unit, and then the 21st, and so on. Do you understand and agree with that?”
Sam’s nod was enough for Dr. Walt to continue.
“So then, with rates at one and seven, it is an easy thing to picture. Now suppose that these worlds, vibrating at different rates, could share the same physical space, but vibrating at different speeds, they would be in different dimensions. The only time they would overlap and form a conduit from world to world would be on each seventh time unit.”
Sam nodded thoughtfully. “I see. They are both here all the time, but vibrating differently, they aren’t seen or felt by those in the other world. Unless their vibrations coincide every seventh time cycle. But they would be overlapping often. Why don’t they?”
“Exactly right,” said Dr. Walt. “But we just used one and seven as an example. What if, taking another pair of random rates, the worlds vibrate at time units 29 and 195. In that case, they would only match up after 5655 time units have passed. What happens if the rates are orders of magnitude greater? Conceivably the worlds may only match their vibrations once in every few hundred or few thousand years. Can you see the complexity?”
“Wow, that could be a problem for me” Sam said sadly. “I don’t think I have a few thousand years to wait.” He was being ironic, but Dr. Walt apparently missed it and continued on.
“Indeed. There are many other factors, such as ley lines, the lines of power that criss-cross both worlds, and vortices, the places where these lines meet other lines, and other effects, but you have the gist of it now. I have been trying for thirty-five years to get back to Telani. To Earth. I have not been able to do so yet.”
Sam was puzzled. “Whoa! Wait a minute. You’ve only been gone thirteen years. I’m only twenty-seven years old and I saw you give the lecture when I was twelve. You disappeared a couple of years after that.”
Harmonic Magic Series Boxed Set Page 6
