While they were pushing the canoes into the lake Jim happened to see a pebble with a thin white band around it. He paused for a moment, pocketed it, then continued. Only a few minutes earlier Troy had shook him awake at the origin. His limbs and head were slightly sore from sleeping on the stone. He had quickly guessed that he was Troy Lombardi the famous billionaire, but he had been surprised at the man. Troy had been just as confused as he about how and why they awoke at the origin. He expected a confident man who never let himself loose control, but Troy just seemed weary.
After a short conversation they agreed that Dean had probably done something to them and sent them back to the origin. It was an odd conclusion because they had no idea why Dean would act that way. Troy said he expected Dean to kill them any minute. Jim wondered if Dean knew about the horizon and sent them back to the origin to prevent them from finding it.
When William told them that Dean had been to the lodge Jim wished he had been able to see him. There was still a part of him that wanted to believe Dean was somehow innocent. He felt that if he could just talk to him, maybe he could persuade him to give it all up. Another, more cynical, part of his mind reminded him that that is exactly what he had tried to do when Dean turned on him.
The lake was perfectly still. The only ripples came from their paddling. When William judged they were far enough away he turned and stopped his canoe with a few powerful strokes.
“Dean reset the program because he wanted to talk to me. He can't get the program to work on any other computer because I altered the one we are running on now. He offered to set me free, if I will help him with the computer. I told him, no.”
“What!” cried Troy, “you should have agreed. If you can get back into the real world you'd have a real chance at escape! You fool we never really had that big of a chance to escape and now that Dean reset the program we have to start all over, we don't even know how big the memory of the computer is. It could take us years to fill it up.”
“Dean doesn't know it, but he actually helped us. At first I thought he just drugged me to pull me out of the program so he could put me back at the Origin where he reach me, but he reset everything; He had to to put the cameras in. That is why he drugged both of you.”
Troy looked ready to give a heated reply, but Jim spoke first.
“How does that help us?”
“When the program resets it opens up a new file. The old one is still there in the memory, unless Dean deleted it manually. I don't think he even knows it is there. Now the horizon is close to us again, we didn't lose anything at all. In fact we gained this entire valley. But—well, it isn't quite as good as it sounds. If I won't help him Dean wants to have another computer expert examine the computer. But he can't have us lying around. If I don't help he said he'd kill us to get us out of the way. He said I have a week to change my mind.”
For the past few weeks Jim the idea of death had flirted in and out of Jim's mind. He almost couldn't grasp the idea that Dean might kill him, but his brotherly vision of Dean was overshadowed now by one of a thief who had taken everything from him. Hearing a specific date of when Dean would complete the theft and take their lives kindled a new fear in Jim's heart. The threat of death by Dean's hand had never felt real when it was ambiguously in the future.
“All the more reason to agree to help him,” said Troy, If you stay here it will be suicide. More than suicide: murder. Your life isn't the only one at stake. Lets go back to the lodge and speak to Dean right now. The sooner the better. You'll probably have a chance to bolt within a week, there is no reason to stay here chasing the horizon.”
“I'm sorry Mr. Lombardi. I won't help him. I still believe we have a chance of getting out on our own.”
“Suppose we do try. We'll give it a good effort. And if we fail and Dean gives you the chance to leave again will you agree then?”
“I don't know.”
“For heaven's sake why not?”
“Suppose I can't escape. Suppose I let Dean scare me into helping him. How many people we end up trapped like us. Every night I lie awake and think of the horrible things Dean might do. I was so relieved when I found out that he hasn't figured out how to work it yet. I pray he never finds out, and I cannot help him. I would rather the three of us die, than hundreds suffer because of me.”
Troy obviously disagreed and for a moment Jim thought he would launch into argument again. Instead he thrust his paddle deep in the water and moved away, heading north toward the waterfall. He never looked back.
William slouched on the small seat as he watched Troy paddle away from them. He dropped his face in his hands and cried. Jim wished he could give him an encouraging pat on the back, but the canoes prevented that. When a few minutes had passed and William regained control of himself Jim spoke.
“You are a good man, William. If we die, It won't be your fault. I would rather die here with you as a good friend than wait in here for years wondering what had become of you in Dean's control. Even if you agreed to help him, Dean wouldn't really let you go free. He would just lock you up somewhere else. You did the right thing.”
“Thanks. We better get going. We only have a week, every minute counts.”
“Well, it looks like Troy is headed north again. I guess I'll go east again. Maybe it'll be easier this time. Less trees would be nice.”
“I don't want to go alone again. Why don't you come with me. I tried to sail the boat by myself, but it didn't work very well. I think we could go faster together on the boat than by ourselves.”
Jim smiled, “Sounds great to me.”
Monday, January 25, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
Episode Fifteen: The Spy
"Elizabeth," said William "I know that you can hear me."
Elizabeth looked over her shoulder at Dean, who was just waking up, then back at William on the screen.
"You heard Dean. You can hear me." William eyes wandered looking around the room not sure in which direction to speak.
"If there is any mercy in you, please help us. I know that I am just a computer nerd who the world will hardly miss, but Jim is a family man. His kids wont have a father unless you help him. Elizabeth, please--"
Dean pulled his hand back from the keyboard. "I don't think we have to worry," said Dean. "He'll think about dieing for a week and change his mind. He'll help us."
"You don't really plan to kill them do you?" asked Elizabeth.
"If he refuses our only other choice is prison: life sentences most likely. I'm not willing to do that. Don't worry, Miss Stratford, he'll come to his senses. He's not the kind of man to be a martyr. He won't like it, but he'll help us."
"He smiled when his back was turned to you. I watched him hide it before turning back to you. I don't think he's as desperate as he acted. What if he has a plan to get out?"
Dean turned and looked at Mr. Kilgore's body, sound asleep on the bed where he had spent the last two months. He stepped over to it and put one hand on the bed post.
“The only way for the brain connection to terminate is if the computer stops sending it information, and there is no way to stop the program from the inside. If there was a way out, he would have done it by now. Turn the display back on, I'm curious what Mr. Kilgore will tell the other two.”
Elizabeth obediently activated the camera.
“—every word you are saying!” William voice was both loud and pleading. He stood up quickly and walked over to where Troy Lombardi stood in the doorway.
Troy spoke in a soft whisper, “Is he here, in the lodge?”
Jim, who was behind Troy, stepped in and cautiously looked around.
“Not anymore, but there is some kind of hidden microphone or something. I'll explain what I know, but not here. Not anywhere close by, there could be dozens of hidden microphones all over this valley. We'll go out on the lake. There won't be any microphones out there.”
Elizabeth changed from camera to camera as the three men made their silent way through the lodge and out the back. From the camera in the shed, Dean and she watched as they silently searched for microphones in the canoes before pulling them out. When they were out of hearing range and could only be seen by a camera mounted on the top of the lodge Dean broke the silence.
“Bring up the recording of what Troy said before you turned the screen on.”
They watched William finish his plea to Elizabeth. Afterword he sat down and appeared to be in deep thought. From another camera they watched as Jim and Troy came over the hill toward the lodge.
“You should have put a few cameras over by the origin,” muttered Dean. Elizabeth wanted to mention that he had chosen the locations for the cameras—she had just put the code in for them—but didn't want to worsen Dean's already sour mood.
They were able to hear a few snippets of their conversation, but it wasn't important. Jim was telling Troy the story of when Dean had first asked for help then turned on him.
Dean sat up a little straighter and leaned forward when Troy opened the front door.
“Hey, William, whats going on here did you find . . .” the rest of Troy words were covered by William's exclamation.
“STOP! Don't say another word. Dean can hear every word you are saying!”
A strange chill trickled up Elizabeth's spine. She switched the display to live time and looked for a moment at the three men, three small dots out in the middle of the lake. “They haven't given up yet. They still hope to escape.”
“I don't think there is any real cause for alarm. We reset the program to get them back to the Lodge and install the cameras. Whatever they were doing was completely undone. If they couldn't do it in two months, they won't be able to do it in single week.”
“William seems to think otherwise, and he is the only one who really understands the program. And they are going to be in there for a lot longer than a week. Our agreement was to let them die naturally.”
Dean gave her a long hard look. “Well if there is any hope of escape, we can't let them continue to try. I don't want to kill them any more than you, but were running out of options. We have no idea what they are planning. We can only observe them when they are near the lodge, which is of no use now because they know about it. If you think William is so confident, wouldn't be better to just kill them now?”
“NO!” Elizabeth jerked involuntarily.
Dean eyed her coolly. “I'll make a deal with you. I'll put you in the Endless Frontier with them. You can tell them I turned on you when you didn't want to kill them. It almost won't even be a lie. Once they think you are on their side they will tell you their plans. Then you call me and I'll pull you out. We'll change the program to prevent them from ever getting out and William will be forced to help us. Jim and Troy can live happily ever after in the Endless Frontier.”
Elizabeth couldn't respond. Her throat had constricted with fear. Dean stood and towered over her waiting for a reply. Without a word and under his gaze, she walked over to an empty bed and lay down. A few moments later she fell down weeping on the red marble of the Origin.
Elizabeth looked over her shoulder at Dean, who was just waking up, then back at William on the screen.
"You heard Dean. You can hear me." William eyes wandered looking around the room not sure in which direction to speak.
"If there is any mercy in you, please help us. I know that I am just a computer nerd who the world will hardly miss, but Jim is a family man. His kids wont have a father unless you help him. Elizabeth, please--"
Dean pulled his hand back from the keyboard. "I don't think we have to worry," said Dean. "He'll think about dieing for a week and change his mind. He'll help us."
"You don't really plan to kill them do you?" asked Elizabeth.
"If he refuses our only other choice is prison: life sentences most likely. I'm not willing to do that. Don't worry, Miss Stratford, he'll come to his senses. He's not the kind of man to be a martyr. He won't like it, but he'll help us."
"He smiled when his back was turned to you. I watched him hide it before turning back to you. I don't think he's as desperate as he acted. What if he has a plan to get out?"
Dean turned and looked at Mr. Kilgore's body, sound asleep on the bed where he had spent the last two months. He stepped over to it and put one hand on the bed post.
“The only way for the brain connection to terminate is if the computer stops sending it information, and there is no way to stop the program from the inside. If there was a way out, he would have done it by now. Turn the display back on, I'm curious what Mr. Kilgore will tell the other two.”
Elizabeth obediently activated the camera.
“—every word you are saying!” William voice was both loud and pleading. He stood up quickly and walked over to where Troy Lombardi stood in the doorway.
Troy spoke in a soft whisper, “Is he here, in the lodge?”
Jim, who was behind Troy, stepped in and cautiously looked around.
“Not anymore, but there is some kind of hidden microphone or something. I'll explain what I know, but not here. Not anywhere close by, there could be dozens of hidden microphones all over this valley. We'll go out on the lake. There won't be any microphones out there.”
Elizabeth changed from camera to camera as the three men made their silent way through the lodge and out the back. From the camera in the shed, Dean and she watched as they silently searched for microphones in the canoes before pulling them out. When they were out of hearing range and could only be seen by a camera mounted on the top of the lodge Dean broke the silence.
“Bring up the recording of what Troy said before you turned the screen on.”
They watched William finish his plea to Elizabeth. Afterword he sat down and appeared to be in deep thought. From another camera they watched as Jim and Troy came over the hill toward the lodge.
“You should have put a few cameras over by the origin,” muttered Dean. Elizabeth wanted to mention that he had chosen the locations for the cameras—she had just put the code in for them—but didn't want to worsen Dean's already sour mood.
They were able to hear a few snippets of their conversation, but it wasn't important. Jim was telling Troy the story of when Dean had first asked for help then turned on him.
Dean sat up a little straighter and leaned forward when Troy opened the front door.
“Hey, William, whats going on here did you find . . .” the rest of Troy words were covered by William's exclamation.
“STOP! Don't say another word. Dean can hear every word you are saying!”
A strange chill trickled up Elizabeth's spine. She switched the display to live time and looked for a moment at the three men, three small dots out in the middle of the lake. “They haven't given up yet. They still hope to escape.”
“I don't think there is any real cause for alarm. We reset the program to get them back to the Lodge and install the cameras. Whatever they were doing was completely undone. If they couldn't do it in two months, they won't be able to do it in single week.”
“William seems to think otherwise, and he is the only one who really understands the program. And they are going to be in there for a lot longer than a week. Our agreement was to let them die naturally.”
Dean gave her a long hard look. “Well if there is any hope of escape, we can't let them continue to try. I don't want to kill them any more than you, but were running out of options. We have no idea what they are planning. We can only observe them when they are near the lodge, which is of no use now because they know about it. If you think William is so confident, wouldn't be better to just kill them now?”
“NO!” Elizabeth jerked involuntarily.
Dean eyed her coolly. “I'll make a deal with you. I'll put you in the Endless Frontier with them. You can tell them I turned on you when you didn't want to kill them. It almost won't even be a lie. Once they think you are on their side they will tell you their plans. Then you call me and I'll pull you out. We'll change the program to prevent them from ever getting out and William will be forced to help us. Jim and Troy can live happily ever after in the Endless Frontier.”
Elizabeth couldn't respond. Her throat had constricted with fear. Dean stood and towered over her waiting for a reply. Without a word and under his gaze, she walked over to an empty bed and lay down. A few moments later she fell down weeping on the red marble of the Origin.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Episode Fourteen: An Offer and Threat
William lay destitute on the floor of a dim, barren shack. With all his might he strained to rise, but only succeeded in getting to his knees. His skin draped over bone, the muscle all but gone. Slowly, painfully he crawled toward the open door. Lumps of dirt gritted against his raw knees as he dragged them forward.
Through the door he could see a carefully manicured lawn and fruit bearing trees. From the smell on wind he knew that somewhere nearby meat was being cooked over a fire. Hunger gnawed in his belly. Slowly he managed to make his way across the room and to the opening.
To his horror a web of fine threads covered the doorway. In his normal strength he would have easily ripped them aside. Using a feeble hand he pushed against the treads and immediately knew it was hopeless.
“Help,” he whispered through a dry throat. “Help me.”
A glimmer of hope was born in his heart when he saw the figure of a man approach, only to die as he recognized the face.
“William,” said Dean. “I need your help.”
Everything lost its clarity as William's fuzzy mind tried to understand what Dean had said.
“No,” said William, his voice suddenly strong. “Not you.” the grimly floor swirled up mixing with the wooden walls till it was all an unrecognizable blur. Suddenly he was no longer crawling on hard dirt, but laying on something soft and warm.
“I'm sorry William. I was wrong to bring you into this, but I see that now. I want to take you out of this place,” said Dean.
As the dream faded William recognized it for what it was. Immediately he snapped awake, sat up and looked around. He was on a couch in the large lounge area of the lodge, still inside the Endless Frontier. On a plush chair across from him sat Dean Senoma.
“What are you doing here,” William snapped.
“I've come to ask for your forgiveness,” said Dean. He bowed his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I don't know everything that has happened to you in here, but I imagine it has been less than pleasant. You are a man used to modern comforts exiled to a barren world of your own making. I am here to change that, to give you the freedom you deserve.”
Dean's swift change from silent captor to repentant friend confused William. He wanted to believe it, but somehow could not. “No you're not. If you wanted me to be free you would just turn off your machine. Yet here we are.” He raised his hands and gestured at their surroundings. “I've suffered enough at your hands. Don't mock me with false hope.” He stood up intending to walk out of the room. He stopped suddenly after only a few steps away from the couch. The room was impeccable. The furniture was positioned exactly as he programed it in. There wasn't a speck of dirt on the floor or smear on the windows.
“I wish it was that simple,” said Dean. “Please just listen to me, I promise I'll explain.”
Unable to help himself William smiled for a moment. He waited till he gained control of his expression and returned it to angry before turning to face Dean, giving him a cool glare.
“I made a mistake when I trapped you in here,” said Dean. “I see now that I was too proud. I thought the Endless Frontier rightly belonged to me and no one else. The greatness of my accomplishments seemed to justify me in securing my right to claim them, but now I see I was wrong. The Endless Frontier isn't only mine. It is ours. You and I.
“After leaving you here, I began work at another location to set up another Endless Frontier. My plan was to secure the patents and sell the technology, but I needed a working demonstration model first. No matter what we did, we couldn't get your program to run. My assistant Miss Stratford made the discovery that you altered this computer and all your programs utilize the improvements you made to handle the vast amounts of information and processing needed to run this incredible program.
“Come back with me to real world and we can do it together. In a few months we will earn enough money to fund our own research programs and continue doing the things we love.”
William almost said yes. He was sick and tired of the Endless Frontier and desperate to get out. But not as desperate as he had been a few days ago, and the more he thought about accepting Dean's offer the more problems he saw.
“What about Troy and Jim?” he asked.
Dean paused calculating his words carefully, “I want to let them go free, but there would be a lot of complications. They can remain here. This is what Mr. Lombardi wanted anyway, to live on the Endless Frontier. I'm sure Jim will get along fine too.”
Suddenly everything became clear in William's mind. “You only regret sending me in here because now you realize you need my technology. You're not going to let me go free. You want me to be your partner in crime. I'll never help you Mr. Senoma. You turned my dream into a nightmare. Now you are asking me to abandon my friends. How many others will you toss into this prison just to suit your needs.” As he spoke he moved closer and closer to Dean and raised his voice.
Mr. Senoma's face had turned stone cold. “Let me make myself perfectly clear. I need your technology. There are two ways for me to get it. First, you could come with me and provide me with it. I will reward you fairly, within reason, so I don't end up with legal difficulties. Second, I can hire a computer scientist much like yourself to examine this computer you have made and he will provide me with the technology. That means turning the computer off and destroying all evidence of this strange situation. And you, Mr. Kilgore, are part of that evidence.”
“I will never help you.”
“I'll give you one week to change your mind.”
“You have my answer now.”
“I will visit you again in one week.” Dean opened his phone, but before he could say anything William grabbed the phone and threw it across the room.
“Miss Stratford,” said Dean calmly, “get me out of here.”
The next moment Dean's clothing dropped into the chair, and Dean was gone.
Through the door he could see a carefully manicured lawn and fruit bearing trees. From the smell on wind he knew that somewhere nearby meat was being cooked over a fire. Hunger gnawed in his belly. Slowly he managed to make his way across the room and to the opening.
To his horror a web of fine threads covered the doorway. In his normal strength he would have easily ripped them aside. Using a feeble hand he pushed against the treads and immediately knew it was hopeless.
“Help,” he whispered through a dry throat. “Help me.”
A glimmer of hope was born in his heart when he saw the figure of a man approach, only to die as he recognized the face.
“William,” said Dean. “I need your help.”
Everything lost its clarity as William's fuzzy mind tried to understand what Dean had said.
“No,” said William, his voice suddenly strong. “Not you.” the grimly floor swirled up mixing with the wooden walls till it was all an unrecognizable blur. Suddenly he was no longer crawling on hard dirt, but laying on something soft and warm.
“I'm sorry William. I was wrong to bring you into this, but I see that now. I want to take you out of this place,” said Dean.
As the dream faded William recognized it for what it was. Immediately he snapped awake, sat up and looked around. He was on a couch in the large lounge area of the lodge, still inside the Endless Frontier. On a plush chair across from him sat Dean Senoma.
“What are you doing here,” William snapped.
“I've come to ask for your forgiveness,” said Dean. He bowed his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I don't know everything that has happened to you in here, but I imagine it has been less than pleasant. You are a man used to modern comforts exiled to a barren world of your own making. I am here to change that, to give you the freedom you deserve.”
Dean's swift change from silent captor to repentant friend confused William. He wanted to believe it, but somehow could not. “No you're not. If you wanted me to be free you would just turn off your machine. Yet here we are.” He raised his hands and gestured at their surroundings. “I've suffered enough at your hands. Don't mock me with false hope.” He stood up intending to walk out of the room. He stopped suddenly after only a few steps away from the couch. The room was impeccable. The furniture was positioned exactly as he programed it in. There wasn't a speck of dirt on the floor or smear on the windows.
“I wish it was that simple,” said Dean. “Please just listen to me, I promise I'll explain.”
Unable to help himself William smiled for a moment. He waited till he gained control of his expression and returned it to angry before turning to face Dean, giving him a cool glare.
“I made a mistake when I trapped you in here,” said Dean. “I see now that I was too proud. I thought the Endless Frontier rightly belonged to me and no one else. The greatness of my accomplishments seemed to justify me in securing my right to claim them, but now I see I was wrong. The Endless Frontier isn't only mine. It is ours. You and I.
“After leaving you here, I began work at another location to set up another Endless Frontier. My plan was to secure the patents and sell the technology, but I needed a working demonstration model first. No matter what we did, we couldn't get your program to run. My assistant Miss Stratford made the discovery that you altered this computer and all your programs utilize the improvements you made to handle the vast amounts of information and processing needed to run this incredible program.
“Come back with me to real world and we can do it together. In a few months we will earn enough money to fund our own research programs and continue doing the things we love.”
William almost said yes. He was sick and tired of the Endless Frontier and desperate to get out. But not as desperate as he had been a few days ago, and the more he thought about accepting Dean's offer the more problems he saw.
“What about Troy and Jim?” he asked.
Dean paused calculating his words carefully, “I want to let them go free, but there would be a lot of complications. They can remain here. This is what Mr. Lombardi wanted anyway, to live on the Endless Frontier. I'm sure Jim will get along fine too.”
Suddenly everything became clear in William's mind. “You only regret sending me in here because now you realize you need my technology. You're not going to let me go free. You want me to be your partner in crime. I'll never help you Mr. Senoma. You turned my dream into a nightmare. Now you are asking me to abandon my friends. How many others will you toss into this prison just to suit your needs.” As he spoke he moved closer and closer to Dean and raised his voice.
Mr. Senoma's face had turned stone cold. “Let me make myself perfectly clear. I need your technology. There are two ways for me to get it. First, you could come with me and provide me with it. I will reward you fairly, within reason, so I don't end up with legal difficulties. Second, I can hire a computer scientist much like yourself to examine this computer you have made and he will provide me with the technology. That means turning the computer off and destroying all evidence of this strange situation. And you, Mr. Kilgore, are part of that evidence.”
“I will never help you.”
“I'll give you one week to change your mind.”
“You have my answer now.”
“I will visit you again in one week.” Dean opened his phone, but before he could say anything William grabbed the phone and threw it across the room.
“Miss Stratford,” said Dean calmly, “get me out of here.”
The next moment Dean's clothing dropped into the chair, and Dean was gone.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Episode Thirteen: Unnatural Sleep
Sailing was much more difficult than William thought it would be. After three days on the boat he could still see the shore. He pulled the sail around with the various ropes and tried to head out to sea, but never seemed to go quite where he expected. Sudden changes in the wind often turned him back, or sent him wildly off to one side.
He had carefully copied the boat exactly from professional blueprints into the computer. Twenty feet long with a small cabin interior and a deep keel, it was a fine ship. He had tried to select a ship that could be maintained by one, but would also be comfortable for three or four.
Shortly after a meager lunch, he stood behind the wheel and fought the wind. A strange weariness suddenly overcame him. He clenched the wheel for support. He was able to resist for only a few moments before he fell to the floor. His hands turning the wheel and sail amiss. He lay silently eyes closed on the heaving deck. His boat continued to push through the water, unguided.
Troy Lombardi left the canoe on the shore of the lake reluctantly. It was a beautiful morning. He carried a large pack. The ripples left by the canoe drifted slowly away on the still surface of the lake. He thought of the canoe he left at the waterfall at the beginning of his first journey. It was still up on the shore where he had stowed it. There weren't even any animals to disturb it.
The wilderness he had so long enjoyed seemed more foreboding now.
He had enjoyed the few days of rest he had allowed himself: plenty of food, comfortable furniture, and a bed to sleep in. William must have done some programing magic with the food stores there. All the cupboards were always full, even after William had lived there a month. Every morning started with a hot shower and every evening he warm fire in the hearth.
Green blades of grass brushed he hand dampening it with dew as he walked toward the mountains. The peak that he was headed toward looked barren and difficult to climb, but it stood higher than the other peaks. To his left a canyon cut deep back into the mountains. An ordinary traveler would have taken that route. Not nearly as steep and less exposed to the weather.
It took him most of the morning to reach the foot hills. He wasn't excited to climb the barren rock under the beating sun and took his time amid the pleasant meadows and grass covered hills.
Around noon he took a short rest for lunch at the base of the mountain, then began to ascend. Shorty after he resumed his journey, exhaustion filled his being. Without a second thought he dropped into the grass beneath a large tree and fell into a deep sleep.
“Two down, one to go” said Dean. He handed an empty syringe to Miss Stratford. Miss Stratford only nodded and handed him the third and final syringe.
Trees, trees, trees. Jim was sick of trees. He saw less land here than he did in the canyon. After about a hundred feet or so his vision was a solid wall of trees, and it had been that way for days. Under normal circumstances he would have through enjoyed the forest. The trees had large trunks and because all the light was blocked by great leaves there was no shrubbery to impede travel.
Jim had always relied on the sun to keep himself oriented, but now he often pulled out the compass to make sure he wasn't going in circles. For the first two days he moved consistently east, but once on the third day he was surprised to see that he was headed northwest. After that he carried the compass in his hand and looked at it frequently.
Early one morning he stopped in his eastward journey. For the last few days he had made very little progress in land generation and he had a plan to change that. Where he stopped there was a large tree. Judging by the size of the truck he hoped it poked up above the canopy where he could see the roof of the forest. Many vines hung from the tree.
He had to climb a vine strait up the first twenty feet to reach the lowest branch. All morning he slowly worked his way up the great tree.
Soon he was high enough that a fall meant certain death, but he was determined to get above the other trees before turning back. He needed to see more land.
When lunch time came he regretted leaving all his food at the base of the tree, but was able to find a few figs. He could see sunlight streaming down through a ceiling of leaves not to far above him. The truck of the tree continued upward through them.
Using a mixture of vines and branches he continued upward. Unexpectedly his eyelids became heavy. Fearing what could happen if he fell asleep in the tree he quickly resumed climbing. His limbs seemed to be filled with lead. By focusing solely on one motion at a time he pulled himself up a vine while walking up the trunk with his feet.
When his head was just below the leaves his feet slipped off the tree. He hung griping the vine legs hanging limply below. This can't be happening, he thought. Where has all my strength gone? Using up the last of his energy in a quick burst he climbed strait up the vine. He head exploded into sunlight, and he glimpsed miles of treetops stretching off into the distance before he hands slipped off the vine. His eyes closed as he fell. The impact of many branches didn't awaken him from deep sleep.
Dean lay on one of the empty beds. “Miss Stratford, I'm ready,” he said. “Send me in.”
He had carefully copied the boat exactly from professional blueprints into the computer. Twenty feet long with a small cabin interior and a deep keel, it was a fine ship. He had tried to select a ship that could be maintained by one, but would also be comfortable for three or four.
Shortly after a meager lunch, he stood behind the wheel and fought the wind. A strange weariness suddenly overcame him. He clenched the wheel for support. He was able to resist for only a few moments before he fell to the floor. His hands turning the wheel and sail amiss. He lay silently eyes closed on the heaving deck. His boat continued to push through the water, unguided.
Troy Lombardi left the canoe on the shore of the lake reluctantly. It was a beautiful morning. He carried a large pack. The ripples left by the canoe drifted slowly away on the still surface of the lake. He thought of the canoe he left at the waterfall at the beginning of his first journey. It was still up on the shore where he had stowed it. There weren't even any animals to disturb it.
The wilderness he had so long enjoyed seemed more foreboding now.
He had enjoyed the few days of rest he had allowed himself: plenty of food, comfortable furniture, and a bed to sleep in. William must have done some programing magic with the food stores there. All the cupboards were always full, even after William had lived there a month. Every morning started with a hot shower and every evening he warm fire in the hearth.
Green blades of grass brushed he hand dampening it with dew as he walked toward the mountains. The peak that he was headed toward looked barren and difficult to climb, but it stood higher than the other peaks. To his left a canyon cut deep back into the mountains. An ordinary traveler would have taken that route. Not nearly as steep and less exposed to the weather.
It took him most of the morning to reach the foot hills. He wasn't excited to climb the barren rock under the beating sun and took his time amid the pleasant meadows and grass covered hills.
Around noon he took a short rest for lunch at the base of the mountain, then began to ascend. Shorty after he resumed his journey, exhaustion filled his being. Without a second thought he dropped into the grass beneath a large tree and fell into a deep sleep.
“Two down, one to go” said Dean. He handed an empty syringe to Miss Stratford. Miss Stratford only nodded and handed him the third and final syringe.
Trees, trees, trees. Jim was sick of trees. He saw less land here than he did in the canyon. After about a hundred feet or so his vision was a solid wall of trees, and it had been that way for days. Under normal circumstances he would have through enjoyed the forest. The trees had large trunks and because all the light was blocked by great leaves there was no shrubbery to impede travel.
Jim had always relied on the sun to keep himself oriented, but now he often pulled out the compass to make sure he wasn't going in circles. For the first two days he moved consistently east, but once on the third day he was surprised to see that he was headed northwest. After that he carried the compass in his hand and looked at it frequently.
Early one morning he stopped in his eastward journey. For the last few days he had made very little progress in land generation and he had a plan to change that. Where he stopped there was a large tree. Judging by the size of the truck he hoped it poked up above the canopy where he could see the roof of the forest. Many vines hung from the tree.
He had to climb a vine strait up the first twenty feet to reach the lowest branch. All morning he slowly worked his way up the great tree.
Soon he was high enough that a fall meant certain death, but he was determined to get above the other trees before turning back. He needed to see more land.
When lunch time came he regretted leaving all his food at the base of the tree, but was able to find a few figs. He could see sunlight streaming down through a ceiling of leaves not to far above him. The truck of the tree continued upward through them.
Using a mixture of vines and branches he continued upward. Unexpectedly his eyelids became heavy. Fearing what could happen if he fell asleep in the tree he quickly resumed climbing. His limbs seemed to be filled with lead. By focusing solely on one motion at a time he pulled himself up a vine while walking up the trunk with his feet.
When his head was just below the leaves his feet slipped off the tree. He hung griping the vine legs hanging limply below. This can't be happening, he thought. Where has all my strength gone? Using up the last of his energy in a quick burst he climbed strait up the vine. He head exploded into sunlight, and he glimpsed miles of treetops stretching off into the distance before he hands slipped off the vine. His eyes closed as he fell. The impact of many branches didn't awaken him from deep sleep.
Dean lay on one of the empty beds. “Miss Stratford, I'm ready,” he said. “Send me in.”
Monday, December 21, 2009
Episode Twelve: A Reason to Live
“You know, William, this world you have created really is amazing, but there is something missing. Something I hoped to find.”
Troy and William were watching the sunset from the lodges balcony. They sat at a table covered in remnants of a large dinner. Troy had his feet propped up on the table.
“I never thought it would become a prison. I sorry things happened this way,” said William.
“No, its not that. When I was climbing the stairs up the cliff became glad to be stuck here. I was off on an adventure with no time time limit. Finding time to explore had been one of my biggest worries. But being trapped, I had all the time I wanted. That feeling only lasted a few days. After that I was miserable. At first I blamed it on the lack of any animals.”
“That is my fault. I haven't figured out how to make anything with a brain. They all just fall over dead when the program starts. So I left them out of this test run. I was hoping to work with Dean on it. He understands brains a lot better than I do.”
Troy laughed. “I never thought I would miss flies and ants, but even they would be nice to have around. But it is more than that. I don't even know what I am looking for.”
“At least you're looking.”
Troy wasn't sure what William meant by that, so he just remained quiet.
“A few days ago when Jim left, I knew I should go with him. Or better yet go in the opposite direction. But I am still here. I don't even have the will to try. Every night when I go to bed I think to myself, in the morning I will leave and chase the horizon. And then—well—here I am, still delaying.
“I hate this place now. I've been working on it for years, long before you ever hired me. And now that it is nearing completion, a madman takes control of it and shows me what evil could be done. This is only the beginning of the crimes that can be committed. The possibilities for torture and brainwashing are almost endless. I wanted to open up a world of wonder and excitement. Instead I created a world of darkness and terror. I don't deserve to escape.”
Troy took his feet of the table and put a hand on William's shoulder. “No, Dean made the terror. Even if you hadn't made the Endless Frontier it was only a matter of time before Dean hired someone to make a program for his machines. Most likely their program would have been much worse then yours, not even resembling reality. Dean is the criminal, not you.”
While they were talking the sun had set. The sky was full of brilliant stars. Troy noticed a shooting star and marveled at how real the sky seemed. Soon he saw another streak of light across the sky. After a while they appeared more and more often. In his long nights on the plain he had seen shooting stars from time to time, but never as many as there were tonight. He watched mesmerized as the whole sky filled with them. Hundreds appearing one after the other randomly across the sky. There was enough flickering light that the forest shimmered.
William began to weep, deep painful sobs. Confused at Williams reaction, and realizing that nothing he could say would help, Troy just stood gazing into heaven, but his hand remained comfortingly on his friends shoulder.
Fifteen minutes later the meteor slowed and faded away. Williams voice broke the pervading silence. “Today is April third. Sarah's birthday. That meteor shower was for her. I thought by now I would be able to bring her here and we would watch it together.”
“It would have been a romantic evening.”
“I should have married her years ago.”
“Why didn't you?”
“I was afraid I wouldn't be a very good husband, too caught up in my work. Now, I'll never get the chance to tell her I love her. I won't even see her again. I've been such a fool.”
The silence was painful. Troy wanted to end it, but had nothing to say. After a moment he turned and walked back into the lodge. He found his room and prepared for bed. So much had happened since he woke up that morning at the foot of the mountains. For a long time he lay on the bed thinking, sleep far from him.
He heard a knock on the door. “Troy are you still awake.”
“Yes. What are you doing?”
William cracked open the door and peered in. “I can't wait for tomorrow. I'm leaving. I'll take a canoe and head down the river. There is a boat for sailing where the river meets the ocean. I think think that is the best route because a boat will cover ground faster, even if it doesn't take as much memory.”
“I thought you had given up escaping. Has something changed, are our chances better than you thought earlier.”
“No, it looks as bleak as ever. I guess, I just found a reason to live. Goodbye Troy.”
“Wait, don't leave yet,” said Troy climbing out of bed.
William opened up the door wider.
“Which way did Jim go. When I leave in the morning I don't want to accidentally follow him. We need every square foot the computer will generate.”
“East. Jim went east.”
“I'll go west then. Good luck, Will.” On impulse they embraced each other for a moment.
Later as Troy slept soundly, William pushed off his canoe and floated into the night.
Troy and William were watching the sunset from the lodges balcony. They sat at a table covered in remnants of a large dinner. Troy had his feet propped up on the table.
“I never thought it would become a prison. I sorry things happened this way,” said William.
“No, its not that. When I was climbing the stairs up the cliff became glad to be stuck here. I was off on an adventure with no time time limit. Finding time to explore had been one of my biggest worries. But being trapped, I had all the time I wanted. That feeling only lasted a few days. After that I was miserable. At first I blamed it on the lack of any animals.”
“That is my fault. I haven't figured out how to make anything with a brain. They all just fall over dead when the program starts. So I left them out of this test run. I was hoping to work with Dean on it. He understands brains a lot better than I do.”
Troy laughed. “I never thought I would miss flies and ants, but even they would be nice to have around. But it is more than that. I don't even know what I am looking for.”
“At least you're looking.”
Troy wasn't sure what William meant by that, so he just remained quiet.
“A few days ago when Jim left, I knew I should go with him. Or better yet go in the opposite direction. But I am still here. I don't even have the will to try. Every night when I go to bed I think to myself, in the morning I will leave and chase the horizon. And then—well—here I am, still delaying.
“I hate this place now. I've been working on it for years, long before you ever hired me. And now that it is nearing completion, a madman takes control of it and shows me what evil could be done. This is only the beginning of the crimes that can be committed. The possibilities for torture and brainwashing are almost endless. I wanted to open up a world of wonder and excitement. Instead I created a world of darkness and terror. I don't deserve to escape.”
Troy took his feet of the table and put a hand on William's shoulder. “No, Dean made the terror. Even if you hadn't made the Endless Frontier it was only a matter of time before Dean hired someone to make a program for his machines. Most likely their program would have been much worse then yours, not even resembling reality. Dean is the criminal, not you.”
While they were talking the sun had set. The sky was full of brilliant stars. Troy noticed a shooting star and marveled at how real the sky seemed. Soon he saw another streak of light across the sky. After a while they appeared more and more often. In his long nights on the plain he had seen shooting stars from time to time, but never as many as there were tonight. He watched mesmerized as the whole sky filled with them. Hundreds appearing one after the other randomly across the sky. There was enough flickering light that the forest shimmered.
William began to weep, deep painful sobs. Confused at Williams reaction, and realizing that nothing he could say would help, Troy just stood gazing into heaven, but his hand remained comfortingly on his friends shoulder.
Fifteen minutes later the meteor slowed and faded away. Williams voice broke the pervading silence. “Today is April third. Sarah's birthday. That meteor shower was for her. I thought by now I would be able to bring her here and we would watch it together.”
“It would have been a romantic evening.”
“I should have married her years ago.”
“Why didn't you?”
“I was afraid I wouldn't be a very good husband, too caught up in my work. Now, I'll never get the chance to tell her I love her. I won't even see her again. I've been such a fool.”
The silence was painful. Troy wanted to end it, but had nothing to say. After a moment he turned and walked back into the lodge. He found his room and prepared for bed. So much had happened since he woke up that morning at the foot of the mountains. For a long time he lay on the bed thinking, sleep far from him.
He heard a knock on the door. “Troy are you still awake.”
“Yes. What are you doing?”
William cracked open the door and peered in. “I can't wait for tomorrow. I'm leaving. I'll take a canoe and head down the river. There is a boat for sailing where the river meets the ocean. I think think that is the best route because a boat will cover ground faster, even if it doesn't take as much memory.”
“I thought you had given up escaping. Has something changed, are our chances better than you thought earlier.”
“No, it looks as bleak as ever. I guess, I just found a reason to live. Goodbye Troy.”
“Wait, don't leave yet,” said Troy climbing out of bed.
William opened up the door wider.
“Which way did Jim go. When I leave in the morning I don't want to accidentally follow him. We need every square foot the computer will generate.”
“East. Jim went east.”
“I'll go west then. Good luck, Will.” On impulse they embraced each other for a moment.
Later as Troy slept soundly, William pushed off his canoe and floated into the night.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Episode Eleven: Death is not the Answer
A blast of pain surged though Troy's body when he hit the ground then evaporated into nothingness. Sensing that his virtual body had sustained fatal damage the program immediately ceased sending information to his brain. Once again Troy experienced the void. The first time it had been enjoyable, his thoughts and feelings were ones of excitement and anticipation. This time he found his thoughts and emotions to be a chaotic mix of disappointment, fear, and regret. Anguish consumed him for the few moments he remained in the void.
Like it had done before, the void vanished as his brain once again received information. Troy took one look around then fell to his knees and began sobbing—he was back at the origin, still trapped in the Endless Frontier. The tears were both of joy and sorrow: joy that he was still alive, and sorrow that he had not escaped. Minutes later when he finally regained his composure, he stood and tried to think rationally.
Why did I come back here? he thought. William said that I would either truly die, or wake up in the portal. Well, I guess he was wrong.
Troy went down to the stream and washed his face so that if William was still at the lodge he wouldn't know that he had been crying. He found William a short time latter in the main lobby of the lodge. He had various papers scattered all over the large wooden table. He was concentrating on some calculations and didn't notice when Troy walked into the room.
“You were wrong,” said Troy still standing in the doorway.
“Don't scare me like that,” said William, startled, “I thought you were a hundred miles away by now. I'm glad your back though. I thought I might never see you again. Why did you come back?”
“If you had been right I wouldn't have come back at all, but you were wrong. I died, William. I fell off a cliff. The next thing I knew I was standing on the origin. I was expecting to die, or perhaps by a slim chance wake up in the portal and escape.”
“That's impossible. The code I wrote turns off the mind bridge equipment. Are you sure you died?”
“I jumped off a cliff, a big one. It was probably three or four hundred feet high. Just a moment or so after I hit the ground I reappeared here.”
William sat thoughtfully for a moment. “I honestly don't know why that happened. It doesn't make any sense to me, but I'd rather think about it later. Some things have happened that you should know.”
Troy walked in and had a seat across the table from William.
“A few days ago another man appeared,” William continued, “His name is Jim Senoma. Apparently he is Dean's brother. According to him, Dean is running out of money and wanted help to hide our bodies at a different location. When Jim refused to help Dean turned on him and trapped him in here with us. Jim is afraid that Dean will kill us to hide the evidence if he can't get money fast.”
“Where is he? Jim I mean.”
“He left that day. He is trying to escape.”
“Didn't you explain to him that the landscape goes on forever in all directions?”
“Actually, he helped me realize that there is a way out.”
“Go on,” said Troy.
“The landscape ends just out of sight, right beyond the horizon. As you know the computer creates the landscape as you explore it. Well all that landscape is saved on the computers hard drive. There can only be as much landscape as there is memory in the computer. When the computer runs out of memory the horizon will stop moving. You would be able to walk to the edge of the world and step out into nothingness. The code I wrote for that scenario is similar to the code for death. You should wake up in the portal. But now I'm not sure.”
“Why didn't you think of that in the first week when still had time?” said Troy in a moment of anger. “No, I'm sorry. I know you were trying. At least we know what to do now. You said Jim already left, chasing the horizon.”
“Yes, he didn't waste a moment once he had a glimmer of hope. But as I said, I'm not sure if it will work anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because, when you jumped . . .” William's mind froze on that word as he realized that it meant Troy hadn't fallen by accident. Deciding not to bring it up he quickly resumed talking. “When you died the sensation didn't cause your brain to stop functioning. Which means, according to the code I wrote you should have woken up in the Portal, but that's not what happened. You are back here. The code for the horizon is practically the same.”
“Just curious, how much landscape can the computer hold before it runs out of space?”
Humph. William waved his hand at all the papers on the table. “I've been trying to figure that out for days. The truth is I don't know. At first I thought it was more that we could ever explore in a lifetime, but my rough calculations have given me a little more hope. Depending on how many hard drives Dean's assistant connected, the total landscape could be anywhere from roughly the size of Ohio to as big as the entire continental US. It also depends on the kinds of landscape the computer generates. Ocean, for example only takes about half the memory per square cubic foot as rock. However, a complex structure, like a tree, takes more than double the memory of rock. Every time I try and figure it out I run into so many unknowns I end up getting nowhere.”
“So, any day now Dean is going to kill us all, and our only hope is to force the computer to generate more landscape with the slim hope that we will actually fill the hard disk space. And even if we do, the horizon is likely to just send us back to the origin,” said Troy.
“That about sums it up,” said William.
Like it had done before, the void vanished as his brain once again received information. Troy took one look around then fell to his knees and began sobbing—he was back at the origin, still trapped in the Endless Frontier. The tears were both of joy and sorrow: joy that he was still alive, and sorrow that he had not escaped. Minutes later when he finally regained his composure, he stood and tried to think rationally.
Why did I come back here? he thought. William said that I would either truly die, or wake up in the portal. Well, I guess he was wrong.
Troy went down to the stream and washed his face so that if William was still at the lodge he wouldn't know that he had been crying. He found William a short time latter in the main lobby of the lodge. He had various papers scattered all over the large wooden table. He was concentrating on some calculations and didn't notice when Troy walked into the room.
“You were wrong,” said Troy still standing in the doorway.
“Don't scare me like that,” said William, startled, “I thought you were a hundred miles away by now. I'm glad your back though. I thought I might never see you again. Why did you come back?”
“If you had been right I wouldn't have come back at all, but you were wrong. I died, William. I fell off a cliff. The next thing I knew I was standing on the origin. I was expecting to die, or perhaps by a slim chance wake up in the portal and escape.”
“That's impossible. The code I wrote turns off the mind bridge equipment. Are you sure you died?”
“I jumped off a cliff, a big one. It was probably three or four hundred feet high. Just a moment or so after I hit the ground I reappeared here.”
William sat thoughtfully for a moment. “I honestly don't know why that happened. It doesn't make any sense to me, but I'd rather think about it later. Some things have happened that you should know.”
Troy walked in and had a seat across the table from William.
“A few days ago another man appeared,” William continued, “His name is Jim Senoma. Apparently he is Dean's brother. According to him, Dean is running out of money and wanted help to hide our bodies at a different location. When Jim refused to help Dean turned on him and trapped him in here with us. Jim is afraid that Dean will kill us to hide the evidence if he can't get money fast.”
“Where is he? Jim I mean.”
“He left that day. He is trying to escape.”
“Didn't you explain to him that the landscape goes on forever in all directions?”
“Actually, he helped me realize that there is a way out.”
“Go on,” said Troy.
“The landscape ends just out of sight, right beyond the horizon. As you know the computer creates the landscape as you explore it. Well all that landscape is saved on the computers hard drive. There can only be as much landscape as there is memory in the computer. When the computer runs out of memory the horizon will stop moving. You would be able to walk to the edge of the world and step out into nothingness. The code I wrote for that scenario is similar to the code for death. You should wake up in the portal. But now I'm not sure.”
“Why didn't you think of that in the first week when still had time?” said Troy in a moment of anger. “No, I'm sorry. I know you were trying. At least we know what to do now. You said Jim already left, chasing the horizon.”
“Yes, he didn't waste a moment once he had a glimmer of hope. But as I said, I'm not sure if it will work anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because, when you jumped . . .” William's mind froze on that word as he realized that it meant Troy hadn't fallen by accident. Deciding not to bring it up he quickly resumed talking. “When you died the sensation didn't cause your brain to stop functioning. Which means, according to the code I wrote you should have woken up in the Portal, but that's not what happened. You are back here. The code for the horizon is practically the same.”
“Just curious, how much landscape can the computer hold before it runs out of space?”
Humph. William waved his hand at all the papers on the table. “I've been trying to figure that out for days. The truth is I don't know. At first I thought it was more that we could ever explore in a lifetime, but my rough calculations have given me a little more hope. Depending on how many hard drives Dean's assistant connected, the total landscape could be anywhere from roughly the size of Ohio to as big as the entire continental US. It also depends on the kinds of landscape the computer generates. Ocean, for example only takes about half the memory per square cubic foot as rock. However, a complex structure, like a tree, takes more than double the memory of rock. Every time I try and figure it out I run into so many unknowns I end up getting nowhere.”
“So, any day now Dean is going to kill us all, and our only hope is to force the computer to generate more landscape with the slim hope that we will actually fill the hard disk space. And even if we do, the horizon is likely to just send us back to the origin,” said Troy.
“That about sums it up,” said William.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Episode Ten: A Lucky Stone
A drop of sweat rolled down Jim's clenched jaw. His fingers strained to maintain their grip on the quarter inch ledge above him as he tried to support himself with only one hand. His feet occupied a slightly better spot on the rock face, but the rock ahead looked smooth and impassable.
It had been a slow and exhausting climb up the end of the box canyon. That morning when he saw the fifty foot wall of rock he had almost turned back, but the canyon had been long with cliffs on both sides. At first he hadn't noticed them. The mouth of the canyon was wide and the sides sloped up toward the ridges on either side. He had stayed at the bottom of the canyon mostly for the water. In his haste to leave he had taken a singe water pouch that he easily emptied each day. When he noticed the cliffs he recognized that he was in the worst place possible, and the computer was generating very little land, but he rationalized that he would eventually reach the peak that the canyon seemed to be heading toward and see the entire landscape from there anyway. The canyon proved much longer than he expected. Turning back now would mean days of wasted effort.
Now clinging to the edge of the cliff he doubted his initial judgment. He had examined the wall carefully before making the attempt and knew there were no handholds near the top. Draped around his neck he carried a twenty foot length of rope. On the end he had tied a stick with two knives forming a crude hook.
Using his free hand he pulled the coiled rope over his head and let most of it fall. The jerk of the rope on his belt, where he had tied the other end, surprised him and almost made him fall. Slowly he swung the hook in circles letting out a few feet of rope.
A few days earlier he had gashed his hand on sharp rock. He had stopped the bleeding with a spare shirt, but he worried about infection. He started a fire to heat some water and sterilize the wound. By the time he had gathered dry wood, made some kindling, and lit the fire—all with only one hand—the pain suddenly vanished. Amazed he had removed the bandage, brushed the dried blood of his skin, and flexed his hand. It was as though he had never been cut. After that he no longer feared injury.
This, however, was different. If he fell from this height and landed wrong he would die. William had been clear about that. With a great thrust he threw the rope toward the top of the cliff. As soon as his hand let go of the rope it snapped back to the wall stabilize his hold, but it was too late. One foot had slipped on the rock in the throwing motion. For a few tantalizing seconds he clung to the wall before his fell backward away from the wall. Instinctively he pushed of the wall with one foot turning himself to face his fall.
He flailed his arms wildly searching for anything to grasp. Skin slid and tore against rough rock and bones creaked and cracked from seemingly random impact points as he tumbled. Finally he landed on the canyon floor chest first blasting all air from his lungs. The struggle to breath helped him ignore the pain enough to turn and lay on his back, his left arm was obviously broken, jutting out in the wrong direction. He couldn't feel either of his legs and didn't bother looking. When a breath finally came it came with pain. Broken ribs seemed to burst into flame with every heaving of his chest.
He felt himself blacking out and feared that if he did he might never wake up. In his mind he focused on images of Troy Lombardi and William Kilgore laying in the portal and this time included himself on one of the beds that had been empty. His eyes were wide open, but his vision was narrowing and becoming fuzzy around the edges. He brought Dean's face to mind and tried use anger to hold back the darkness, but all he felt was an overwhelming sadness. As his eyesight vanished he thought of Susan and the kids. I must live, he thought, they need me.
Hours later he awoke from his slightly uncomfortable position on the ground. His clothes were in tatters, but his body retained no mark from the fall. He hadn't noticed at the time, but in his pain he had tore at the ground with his good hand. There in his hand was a small stone about the size of a large marble. It was ordinary gray with a thin stripe of white around the middle.
Lucky, he thought. That's what Michael would say. Michael had a bucket full of rocks he had collected from the neighborhood. Each for some reason had caught his eye and become the object of his awe. Michael would have loved this one. Jim pocketed the rock and looked back up the cliff. There hanging from the top was the rope were it had successfully snagged.
That evening he watched the sunset from the mountain peak.
It had been a slow and exhausting climb up the end of the box canyon. That morning when he saw the fifty foot wall of rock he had almost turned back, but the canyon had been long with cliffs on both sides. At first he hadn't noticed them. The mouth of the canyon was wide and the sides sloped up toward the ridges on either side. He had stayed at the bottom of the canyon mostly for the water. In his haste to leave he had taken a singe water pouch that he easily emptied each day. When he noticed the cliffs he recognized that he was in the worst place possible, and the computer was generating very little land, but he rationalized that he would eventually reach the peak that the canyon seemed to be heading toward and see the entire landscape from there anyway. The canyon proved much longer than he expected. Turning back now would mean days of wasted effort.
Now clinging to the edge of the cliff he doubted his initial judgment. He had examined the wall carefully before making the attempt and knew there were no handholds near the top. Draped around his neck he carried a twenty foot length of rope. On the end he had tied a stick with two knives forming a crude hook.
Using his free hand he pulled the coiled rope over his head and let most of it fall. The jerk of the rope on his belt, where he had tied the other end, surprised him and almost made him fall. Slowly he swung the hook in circles letting out a few feet of rope.
A few days earlier he had gashed his hand on sharp rock. He had stopped the bleeding with a spare shirt, but he worried about infection. He started a fire to heat some water and sterilize the wound. By the time he had gathered dry wood, made some kindling, and lit the fire—all with only one hand—the pain suddenly vanished. Amazed he had removed the bandage, brushed the dried blood of his skin, and flexed his hand. It was as though he had never been cut. After that he no longer feared injury.
This, however, was different. If he fell from this height and landed wrong he would die. William had been clear about that. With a great thrust he threw the rope toward the top of the cliff. As soon as his hand let go of the rope it snapped back to the wall stabilize his hold, but it was too late. One foot had slipped on the rock in the throwing motion. For a few tantalizing seconds he clung to the wall before his fell backward away from the wall. Instinctively he pushed of the wall with one foot turning himself to face his fall.
He flailed his arms wildly searching for anything to grasp. Skin slid and tore against rough rock and bones creaked and cracked from seemingly random impact points as he tumbled. Finally he landed on the canyon floor chest first blasting all air from his lungs. The struggle to breath helped him ignore the pain enough to turn and lay on his back, his left arm was obviously broken, jutting out in the wrong direction. He couldn't feel either of his legs and didn't bother looking. When a breath finally came it came with pain. Broken ribs seemed to burst into flame with every heaving of his chest.
He felt himself blacking out and feared that if he did he might never wake up. In his mind he focused on images of Troy Lombardi and William Kilgore laying in the portal and this time included himself on one of the beds that had been empty. His eyes were wide open, but his vision was narrowing and becoming fuzzy around the edges. He brought Dean's face to mind and tried use anger to hold back the darkness, but all he felt was an overwhelming sadness. As his eyesight vanished he thought of Susan and the kids. I must live, he thought, they need me.
Hours later he awoke from his slightly uncomfortable position on the ground. His clothes were in tatters, but his body retained no mark from the fall. He hadn't noticed at the time, but in his pain he had tore at the ground with his good hand. There in his hand was a small stone about the size of a large marble. It was ordinary gray with a thin stripe of white around the middle.
Lucky, he thought. That's what Michael would say. Michael had a bucket full of rocks he had collected from the neighborhood. Each for some reason had caught his eye and become the object of his awe. Michael would have loved this one. Jim pocketed the rock and looked back up the cliff. There hanging from the top was the rope were it had successfully snagged.
That evening he watched the sunset from the mountain peak.
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