“I’ll tell you all again: I can save you. But it’s not going to involve the Library.”
“The Library is the only way,” Streyes said.
“That’s what your boss has told you, and you only listen to him, don’t you?”
“He’s the only one who would help us when no one else would. He gathered together people who had the same problem in order to find the answer. The only conclusion was the Library.”
“And he’s wrong. Well, not entirely wrong.”
“Then you know that’s the only way.”
“Like I keep telling you, there’s no need for the Library if you want helped. But you’re going to say something nutty in response, so I’ll save my breath.” Silver’s face turned serious. “We can start when you’re ready to get mauled again, so I can get going,” he shouted. He brandished his staff-turned-mace to punctuate his statement.
Schove readied himself, his gauntlet glowing red. Sona’s hands flashed green for a moment, and a kukri – a bladed weapon with a slight curve to its edge – appeared in each hand. Streyes reached into the air in front of him, his hand disappearing into a green portal, and pulled out a dual-bladed axe.
Silver adjusted his stance.
The area around him erupted into a cloud of dust and dirt, creating a smokescreen for his three opponents.
It wasn’t enough, as the cloud quickly dissipated with a wave of Silver’s mace.
He quickly brought the mace back in the opposite way, right at Sona, who had appeared in front of him. He blocked her two attacks, and countered with strikes of his own. His plan of knocking her off balance worked. After light strikes, Silver swung his mace to the left. She parried with her kukris, but was smashed across the shoulder – Silver had spun around and hit her unguarded right.
“You’re too predictable,” Silver addressed Schove, who was attempting to attack from behind and overhead.
One of Silver’s ‘wings’ twitched, opening up like a four-fingered hand. It snatched Schove right out of the air, and slammed him into the ground.
Bright light approached Silver from the front, and he realized a beam of energy – a large beam – was headed for him. Silver stuck out his left hand and the beam dissipated, impacting with a large barrier of blue energy.
Streyes swallowed in concern. After all, Silver had negated his attack with a carefree movement of his arm. He thought they might be in over their heads again, but reminded himself that they had been further enhanced since their last encounter with Silver. He realized they were reaching their limit of alteration, but if they got access to the Library, it would all be fixed, and everyone that was flawed as he was could return to a normal life.
Sona tried to attack him from the side, but was batted away again by the mace – and Silver hadn’t even looked in her direction.
Silver looked down at Schove, then over at Sona, then back to Streyes. He shook his head, and then looked down at the ground. “You three certainly have been enhanced since the last time we met, but these False Overlaps are going to send you all to the point of no return.”
Streyes burst forward and swept his axe toward Silver. His target parried and jumped back. Streyes wouldn’t let up, and continued with progressively stronger blows. Silver easily blocked them all, batted Streyes’ weapon upward, and shoved his mace into Streyes’s chest.
The gravity shot didn’t do much to hurt him, but it did send Streyes flying toward the ground. At the last moment, he recovered, flipping himself over. He landed on his feet, but the momentum sent him sliding backward, his boots leaving two trails in the dirt. Schove and Sona were quick to rush to his side.
“Streyes, what do we do?” Schove asked.
That’s when they started to feel the ripples in space-time. Someone was amassing a large amount of space-time into the current timeline.
Then he saw Silver. He was glowing – or rather, the air around him was – energy coalescing like a whirlwind. His hair was sticking up and out, waving based on the energy rather than the air; the strands oscillated in a rainbow. He was pulling an immense amount of power from neighboring timelines, and all three of Silver’s enemies knew it.
“What kind of Time Coordinator is he!?” Sona swallowed hard, dumbfounded. “There should be no way he could focus this much energy here!”
They had never seen Silver do anything of this caliber.
Silver threw his left hand up, spreading open his palm, and said two words:
“Fallen Core.”
A massive, jet black orb, the size of a boulder appeared above him. Space-time swirled into it, creating almost what seemed like serrated blades spinning around with it.
Silver threw his left hand forward and down, like he was bringing a hammer down. The orb quickly descended between them.
There was an eruption. Air swirled like a hurricane, bits and pieces of rock, sand and dirt whipped past Streyes, Sona and Schove. They shielded their eyes and held themselves closer to the ground to avoid being blown away by the pressure.
When the dust cleared, there was a crater, five feet deep, between Silver and his three opponents.
“Go home,” he said, then added, “My offer still stands. I’ll help you whenever you want. But not through the Library.”
Streyes gritted his teeth, not wanting to give up, but he swallowed his pride. Silver was just too much for them. They simply couldn’t compare with his level of ability. Streyes believed there was a way. They just didn’t know of it yet.
“We’re leaving,” he said flatly.
Sona and Schove didn’t voice any opposition. Three portals opened and they filed out.
Once they were gone, Silver went back to his original rock, waving his staff toward the crater he had created, and it started to fill itself back in. He sat against the rock again and sighed. “I really wish the three of you weren’t so thick headed.”
He pulled an old, brass pocket watch out of his left pocket and looked at it. “I guess I should go see him soon. Might as well eat first.”
* * *
Ken went to bed later than usual. He had new guests, and made sure that they all had enough pillows, blankets, and an oscillating fan if they needed it. It was still a little warm out, and running the central air all the time raised the electric bill.
His bed time was usually ten o’clock, but it was eleven before he was even in bed. Add the half-hour to actually get to sleep, and he’d definitely be groggy tomorrow morning.
At twelve thirty, he was still awake. He tossed and turned, and finally settled on staring at the ceiling. Time to count sheep.
One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, four sheep, five sheep, six aliens, seven aliens, eight—
Aliens?
Great. Aliens on the brain.
He took stock of the visitors – which he hoped weren’t the human-disguise-wearing, human-eating-lizard kind – and their personalities.
It was amazing how insignificant Earth seemed now. When the aliens first arrived, of course everyone had the realization of ‘Hey! We’re not alone in the universe!’ But to actually see, hear and touch the realization for oneself, that’s when the whole mind clicks, and the magnitude of who and what is out there becomes staggering. There were millions of planets. Some were inhabited with their own people, cultures, history, families and problems.
Ken’s head started to hurt. He asked himself why he didn’t just say they were not so different than any person from Earth?
There was the woman from the matriarchal planet. Some societies in the past on Earth had that kind of lineage, so there was no big deal. But no one else he knew of carried bladed weapons in public, sheathed or not. Ken wondered if she slept with it in her bed. Then again, it wasn’t his concern. She seemed ‘down to earth,’ which was odd, considering she was from a completely different galaxy.
On another side of the table was the rich girl. Ken already knew encounters with her were going to turn into conflicts of E
uropean proportions. She probably didn’t know much about responsibility, had everything handed to her, and didn’t have to work hard or take orders from anyone. She reminded him of his sister, and he shivered at the thought of two people like that on the same planet. He did feel a little sorry that she lost her mother, but her attitude quickly destroyed most of the sympathy he had for her.
Then the quiet one. One has to watch out for those kinds of people. She could pop at any time, going on a destructive rampage.
Or maybe not. It’s kind of hard to form an opinion of someone who rarely talks, and makes, as a certain cartoon rooster would say, ‘less noise than a caterpillar jogging across moss in tennis shoes – sneakers that is.’ She didn’t seem dangerous, so Ken decided to leave it at that until she went berserk.
The angel-like woman was also puzzling. Apparently she liked cute things, and took a liking to some of the other guests. Somehow, ‘nurse’ and ‘angel’ went good together when she came to mind – though she was, by no means, an actual angel in the sense of one from the Good Book. Still, she’d be popular wherever she went, but the majority of people she would run into wouldn’t be looking her in the eyes.
Boing.
Lastly, the most unique one of all: the doll-like time faerie, or whatever she was. It was like having a toy walk around and talk. Bubbly attitude and conscious about her size. She went on about the ‘space-time’ thing, which was far beyond Ken’s ability to grasp.
He assumed aliens would have been a little more mellow, but he now wondered if all aliens were screwballs like them.
* * *
Nature called.
Ken got up out of bed, and glanced over to his clock.
3:22 AM.
He went to the bathroom that was attached to the master bedroom, making sure to close the door behind him since he now had tenants, and he didn’t know when they might make a surprise entrance.
He made his ‘bladder gladder,’ washed his hands, and grabbed the door knob. He felt a jolt of electricity, and pulled his hand back in surprise.
“What the . . . ?”
It didn’t hurt, but did wake him up. He slowly tested the knob with his finger, but there was no reaction. He shrugged, thinking it was just static electricity or just his imagination, grabbed the knob, turned it, and walked out.
He was not in his bedroom anymore.
It was a large, circular room, with windows showing a sunny day, and plants could be seen touching the bottoms of the windows on the outside. There was a red carpet that started in the middle of the room, and disappeared under a set of double doors about twenty feet in front of him.
Looking around, it seemed like a waiting area. He was unfamiliar with the place, but oddly, wasn’t scared or panicked. Concerned he was, but he didn’t think or feel he was in any danger. He did feel a mental tug towards the door.
He walked up and reached for the handle of one door, and pulled it open slightly, to see what was on the other side.
“Hello?” he said, softly.
The only thing on the other side was a set of stairs going up. It seemed brighter there than the room he was in, like it led outdoors. He glanced back into the room, and seeing no other exit, went through and closed the door behind him.
Above – far above – was a blue sky. Soft, white clouds went by, as if pushed by a breeze Ken couldn’t feel.
He walked up the stairs, looking left and right and it looked like he was seeing the backs of . . .
. . . bookcases?
He continued to the top, which ended in a dais. On the dais was a desk, with a middle-aged-looking man behind it, dressed in some sort of white robes, with long, equally white hair. There was some paperwork and a few books in front of him on the desk, an old computer to his left, and a large, open book to his right, sitting on a stand, and open towards Ken.
The man was reading a book, and glanced up when he heard Ken.
“Why, hello there!” he greeted Ken.
“Uh . . . hello.”
“Kenaeth Goldwrite, correct?”
Ken stepped back.
“Oh, don’t worry about me knowing your name. I know the names of lots of people.”
Ken looked left and right.
“Oh, the name’s Peter, by the way. Could you sign in, please?”
“Sign in?”
Peter pointed to the large book. There was a ballpoint pen resting in its binding.
A couple of gears in Ken’s head started moving, trying to figure out where he was. A set of big doors he came through. Blue skies. A pleasant atmosphere. A guy in white named Peter . . .
Ken’s jaw dropped open.
Oh, no.
He wasn’t as religious as he could—or should—be, but anyone with even a small religious bone in their body would know exactly where they were.
Ken became concerned. Really concerned. It must have shown on his face, because Peter prodded him about it.
“Something wrong, Mister Goldwrite?”
“Am . . . am I . . . dead?”
Peter put his book down. “Dead? Why would you think that?”
“You said your name was Peter, right?”
“Yes.”
“The Peter?”
“There’s only one Peter here, so that’s me.”
“Saint Peter?”
“Saint . . . ?” He thought a moment, and then started to laugh. “No, no. By no means. I’m not Saint Peter. He and I have lunch often, and I assure you we are nothing alike.”
“So, I’m not dead?”
“I don’t think you are.”
Ken breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wasn’t dead.
“Then, am I dreaming?”
“No, sir. You are where you are right now.”
“But where am I? This looks like a library, but not really like one.”
“You are correct; it’s a library. Tell me, are you familiar with the concept of ‘Akasha’?”
“No. Is it a girl?”
Peter chuckled. “It does sound like a girl’s name, but it’s not a girl. It has many other names, but I tend to like the sound of ‘Akasha.’ It refers to the collected knowledge of the universe.”
“And it’s a library?”
“Not in the strictest sense. This is a repository of all the knowledge that has existed and ever will exist. That’s what is contained here. That’s why this place is called the ‘Akashic Library’.”
“What?”
“Just like I said. Any subject that you could think of, the knowledge, answers and truth are here.”
“And it’s a library?”
“Truthfully, what you’re witnessing is only a representation of what you’re experiencing. The human mind is incapable of truly comprehending what this place actually looks like. So, it turns what it is experiencing into a form in which it can understand.”
“A library?” Ken asked again.
“Think about it. This is a repository of knowledge. You know, unconsciously, that such a place would be a library. Therefore, it is as you see it.”
“I take it you’re not human.”
Peter smiled. “How about we get you a library card?”
“A library card? For what?”
“To check out books, of course.”
“Books?”
“Yes.”
“You mean the collective knowledge, etcetera, I can actually read?”
“There are some topics that you won’t be able to read, especially ones that would completely change yourself, or would cause you to make a drastic change in your perceived destiny.”
“That’s way over my head.”
“Say, Nathan?” Peter called out.
In an instant, a large, bronze-colored metallic humanoid appeared to Ken’s left. Startled, Ken stumbled to the right and fell down. The creature was about seven feet tall, and looked almost like a robot from an old black and white movie. Its upper body and limbs were ov
ersized, held up by legs almost as big.
“My apologies if I startled you, Mister Goldwrite,” the creature said in a surprisingly pleasant, though metallic, voice. He offered his hand to help Ken up.
Giving up trying to fully understand what was going on for the moment, Ken took it and the creature gently pulled him up.
Was the creature Nathan?
“Do you have the camera with you?” Peter asked.
“Of course.”
A small panel folded down on Nathan’s chest, and he pulled out a small camera.
“What’s the camera for?” Ken wondered.
“To take your picture. We need it for your card. Could you look directly at the camera?”
Ken looked forward, and it was a scene to laugh at: Nathan, in his very large hands, was daintily holding the camera, pointing it at Ken.
Ken fixed his hair, but knew if it was like any other identification card, he would look like a criminal anyway. That’s when he noticed he was in his casual clothes and not his bed clothes. He normally slept in his underwear and a t-shirt, but he was dressed in a t-shirt, his jeans and sneakers. He shrugged, since he knew no one would give him a straight answer about it even if he asked.
“Say cheese,” Nathan asked.
“Cheeeeeeeeeese.”
The flash went off, and a moment later, a small picture popped out of the side of the camera.
Peter was rummaging through his desk drawers, and suddenly exclaimed “Aha!” He pulled out a stack of cards with a rubber band around them, and another stack of clear plastic sleeves. Nathan handed him the picture, and put the camera back into his chest.
“I always misplace these.”
Ken rubbed his eyes. For a repository of knowledge, they sure weren’t as organized as they could be. Well, after all, it was a dream. Just a weird dream. Ken had met aliens today. Maybe something in his subconscious had run amok. Mystical libraries? Metal giants holding small cameras?
Peter pasted the picture to a card, and looked up at Nathan. “Did you get the laminator fixed?”
“I did just a few minutes ago. I’m sorry it took so long; Gabriel and I were chatting about some Three Stooges DVDs. He got some new ones.”
The panel on Nathan’s chest opened again, this time a small laminator was in it. He pulled it out, and handed it to Peter.
“Really? Is he going to let us borrow them?” Peter put the unit on the table, and plugged it into an outlet on the floor.