CHAPTER 9

THE MORTAL GOD

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The old man smiled when he saw Thana.

“Humphrey!” she called.

“Thana, precious girl, you’ve come back to visit!”

He was taller than he’d looked from the distance and there was a gentle power about him. His face was stern, yet kind, and although his leathery skin showed deep lines around his neatly trimmed white beard, he was far from feeble. I waited while the old friends shared an embrace.

When they separated Thana turned and introduced us. “Humphrey, I’d like you to meet Jason Tardin.”

“Good to meet you, sir.” I offered my hand.

His eyebrows furrowed and his glowing eyes seemed to darken. “What do you want with me?”

“I’ve come a long way, by horse and by foot, to speak with you. It is a matter of great consequence.”

He scowled at me and grunted.

Thana put her hand on his arm. “He’s all right, Humphrey. I promise.”

Still scowling the old man examined me with a critical eye. “All right,” he said with a toss of his hand, “but I’ll not go on any fool crusades with you. I’m a man of peace. And a tired man at that!”

I tried to be diplomatic. “All I seek is information. Whatever you are willing to share will be appreciated.”

He gave a slight nod. “Then come in and rest your bones.” He offered his arm to Thana. “And grab a few of them logs if you don’t mind,” he said, pointing to the pile next to the chopping block.

I stacked some sticks in my arms and trailed along behind.

Humphrey’s cabin was neat and orderly, and although sparsely decorated, had all the comforts of home. A pleasant piney odor hit me as I entered. Instantly the warmth of the cabin’s rustic beauty enveloped me. “Where do you want these?” I asked.

“In the basket by the fireplace,” he said over his shoulder as he guided Thana into the kitchen. I figured he wanted to grill her with questions about me, but she came back out rather quickly, with thick slice of bread and a large glass of milk.

“What do you want in your coffee?” she asked.

“A spoon of sugar will be fine.”

“One sugar,” she called into the kitchen. “I’m going to wait out here, okay, Humph?”

Humphrey returned with a, “Yup!”

“He likes you,” she whispered.

“He does?” I said, completely surprised. “What makes you say that?”

“He would have turned you away outside if he didn’t. And he wouldn’t offer coffee unless he wanted you to stay a bit. He used to make a cup for Gaza before their long discussions, but he even turned him away a few times before finally giving in.”

“Well, I am certainly honored.”

We stopped speaking as Humphrey rounded the corner.

“Mind if I take your bed tonight, Humph?” Thana asked.

“Not at all. You must be tired after your long trek.”

“You have a bed?” I asked.

“Yes. It doesn’t get much use though. On occasion I try lying down to see if sleep takes me.”

“Any success?”

“No, but I keep hoping.”

Thana headed for the bedroom. “I’ll leave you two alone to talk about god stuff. I’m exhausted. I’ll catch up with you in the morning.”

“Good night, Thana,” I said. “Dream for us all.”

She nodded her head in the affirmative.

Humphrey handed me a cup of steaming coffee.

“That didn’t take long.”

“I put the pot on before you arrived.”

“Ahh.”

“Have a seat, young Mister Tardin,” he said, waving his hand at a rocking chair. “What brings you out this way?”

I sat and placed my cup on the end table. “As I said, I’ve come seeking information.”

“Uh-huh. What kind of information?” He perched on the edge of the woodbox.

“Well, two days ago Kitaya and I used an event cell to re-live a portion of Vrin’s history. Kitaya witnessed a discussion between Gaza and Rath where Gaza was threatening to destroy this world if Rath did not do his bidding. She didn’t get all the details, but Gaza was talking about searching for a woman and a girl child. We were hoping Gaza might have mentioned them to you.”

Humphrey furrowed his brow. “He believes his wife and daughter died in a car accident in his previous existence. That might have something to do with it. But I don’t know why he’d be searching for a woman and child in this world.”

“He mentioned something about an exact match. Do you think he was referring to them?”

“It’s possible. He could have made replicas of them to ease his pain.”

“No. --That wouldn’t make sense. He’s searching for them, for an exact match. If he made replicas he wouldn’t have to search for them.” I gave Humphrey a quizzical look. “Right?”

“This world is extremely complex.” Humphrey picked up an iron poker and began stirring the fire. “There could be a great many explanations. Gaza mentioned many details of its creation but most of it was gibberish to me.”

“Did he mention his search?”

“No, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he is searching for them. Their deaths weigh heavily on his mind.”

“Why do you think he would enlist Rath and no one else? If he wanted to find them so badly, why not bring us all in on it?”

“I have no idea.” Humphrey looked into the fire. “He never mentioned Rath to me.”

I studied the old man’s profile. “Well-- do you think he’ll follow through on his threat?”

Humphrey shook his head. “I don’t know. Gaza is something of an enigma. There is no disputing the fact that he is a genius, but his mind is tortured, his reasoning impaired. I spent many a night trying to help him through his questions.” Humphrey stood and began to pace. “He is angry with God. He blames God for the death of his family, but it goes beyond reason. It’s a fixation. I believe he is between calms.” Humphrey stopped and looked out the window.

“I’m sorry? I’ve never heard that expression.”

“That’s because I made it up,” he said gruffly.

“Could you-- elaborate?”

He started pacing again. “In a person’s life there is a flow, or as I call it, a calm. You find the path that is most pleasing and you follow it.” He looked at me.

I nodded, hoping I looked like I knew what he was talking about.

“Unfortunately,” he went on, “things happen, devastating things: the death of a loved one, a debilitating accident. Events like these suck the wind out of a person, leaving them in the emptiness between calms. Most find the strength to stand again, their paths irrevocably changed, but others never regain their calm. Gaza’s physical body has probably long healed but who he is refuses to return. The pain of his experience is holding him back. If he could work through the fear he would be free to return to his body. But he can't, so he's stuck. He’s unable to continue on into eternity, yet he cannot return to the physical.”

“It sounds like you're saying he's a ghost.” I let out a small laugh.

“He’s as close to a ghost as a physical being can be. His path is wrought with uneasiness and loss. I believe his search is nothing more than a desperate attempt to retrieve his calm.”

I shook my head. “How can you sound so sure?”

“Have you not realized? This is a spiritual place. We are no longer in our physical bodies as we understand it. I’m not sure what I would call it, but the best I can come up with is purgatory, a spirit plane between the physical and eternity.”

I squinted at him. “You think we’re dead?”

He nodded slowly. “I’m not certain-- but yes. I think we’re dead.”

I looked him in the eye. “With all due respect, sir, I believe you are wrong, because just last night I had a conversation with a scientist who would disagree with you.”

He looked genuinely astonished. “You’ve talked with people-- on the physical plane?”

“Yes, and although I haven’t figured out what this place is, I’m pretty sure we’re not dead.”

He walked back to the window. “This is very odd,” he said softly. “I’ve had some enlightening conversations with my soul, and it mentioned nothing of being able to talk to the other side.”

“Your soul?”

“Yes. Occasionally I have brief conversations with it.” He reached out and rubbed a spot on the window. “It said I was on the edge of the physical world and that I had more to accomplish. It said this place was special. There is so much doubt in the world, so many questions. We are an inquisitive species. Without this place we would lose our way. What we learn here we bring here. What we carry with us we made under God’s watchful eye.”

Again I shook my head. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t need any more riddles. My life is complicated enough.”

“You wanted to know where we are!” He turned to face me. “I’m telling you what I know!”

“Well I don’t buy the fact that I’m dead.”

“We’re not dead. I was mistaken. It hadn’t occurred to me before because I never bothered looking for clarification on the matter. I believe we are on the edge of death. Yes, that’s it.”

“The edge of death?”

“Ask your scientist friends! What I say is true, to the best of my knowledge.”

All was quiet for a moment.

“Do you-- want me to try to contact them now?” I said, examining his face for a response. “I’ll need to use the power.”

He hesitated, then nodded slowly. “As long as you do not effect this world or its people. And I thank you for your consideration.”

“No problem. Will you be joining me?”

“I will observe.”

I pulled my concentration back in on itself and the web appeared. The thread I had used before was long gone, so I chose another, stretched it, and tracked down the remark. A new message read, “Waiting for a response.”

I answered, “I’m here,” then created two clamps and pulled a thread taut between them.

After a few moments the thread began to vibrate. “Robert?” came the voice of Dr. Solomon.

“I’m here, Doctor.”

“What happened? We lost communication with you.”

“I was interrupted. Sorry. I got back to you as soon as I could.”

“We were worried about you.” He sounded genuinely concerned.

“Well you should be. But I’m fine for the moment. Look, I’m going to ask you a question and I want a straight answer. It is very important that you answer this question.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Am I dead?”

Silence. Then I heard an audible burst of air escape from his mouth.

“Doctor, am I dead?”

“No, Robert, you’re not dead. You are very much alive. I was just surprised by your question. And before you ask again, as I know you will, I will tell you where you are. We discussed it with the psychologist and he said as long as we don’t get into any repressed memories you should be okay.” He paused.

“Well?”

“You’re not dead, Robert. You’re in a coma.”

“--What?”

A coma. I know this will sound strange, but the world you perceive around you is being fed to your mind by a computer. You’re in a simulated level four non-REM sleep state. The computer is artificially planting sensory information into your mind through electronic stimulation. The results, as you can see, are quite real.”

“That explains the program.”

“Yes.”

“So-- you hooked ten of us up to a computer and gave us an environment we could relate to.”

“Well, almost. We made the basic structure but you’re finishing the work we started.”

“Are we all in comas?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you that.”

“Okay,” I said, getting frustrated again. “Then why did you ask for me personally in the program?”

“Look, Robert, this isn’t easy for me either. I want to tell you what you want to know, but I’ve been advised not to share certain things. You have to trust me. Our primary goal right now is to get you and the others out of there. But before we can do that we need to learn more about why you’re not coming out on your own.”

“I’ll tell you why,” Humphrey interjected.

I’d almost forgotten he was in the room.

“Our souls have lost their way back.”

“Who am I speaking with?” asked Dr. Solomon.

“I don’t remember my name but you can call me Humphrey, it’s the name I’ve chosen for myself,” he said, displaying his grumpy nature.

“Okay, Humphrey, are you one of The Ten?”

“Yes.”

“And what makes you think your soul can’t get back?”

“It told me it’s trapped here.”

There was an awkward pause.

“Humphrey talks to his soul, ” I said.

“I see,” said the doctor. “I noticed a tinge of sarcasm in your voice, Robert. Don’t you believe him?”

“Well you have to admit, it sounds a little... ah... He does spend an awful lot of time alone.”

Humphrey shot me a look and opened his mouth to speak.

“It’s very likely Mr. Humphrey is correct.”

Humphrey looked as surprised as I was.

“Come again?” I said.

“I know it sounds far fetched but hear me out. In order to design this system we needed to conduct extensive tests on brainwave activity. As I’m sure you both know there are countless chemical and electrical operations that take place within the human body. We had the arduous task of mapping those electrical pathways. The computer is using the map we developed in order to feed impulses to your brain, and your brain is interpreting these impulses as sight, touch, and so forth. Right now you are using the portion of your brain, which controls your sense of hearing. When I speak my voice is translated into the computer as electrical impulses, which your ear would have sent to your brain. In a sense I am talking directly to your brain. And in turn you are sending back vocal responses, which are translated and reproduced by a synthesizer. The computer is monitoring all of these sensory operations.”

“O-kay. But-- what does this have to do with Humphrey talking to his soul?”

“I’m getting to that,” he said, showing restraint. “So far we’ve isolated all of the electrical signatures and their corresponding responses. That is, all except one. We call it the phantom signature. When we tested normal subjects this phantom signature was a source of much frustration because it caused a bleed over into the other channels. But when we tested coma patients we found this particular signal to be absent. Some of my colleagues believe a person will go into a coma when there has been major damage to the portion of the brain which generates this phantom signal. When the signal is removed consciousness ceases to exist. We don’t understand how or why. It just does. And this energy leaves the entire body not just the brain. Something definable departs. --So, why not call it the soul?”

Humphrey looked skeptical.

“But he’s not really talking to his soul. Is he?” I asked.

“He believes he is and his perception is very important to his recovery. The mind holds a great many secrets and we have only begun to scratch the surface. If we can somehow guide his soul back to his body perhaps his brain will turn the function back on.”

“It’s more than that!” Humphrey protested.

“I would be the first to agree with you, Humphrey,” said Dr. Solomon. “I’m sure it’s more than just a chemical process. I would love to be able to claim fame as the man who discovered the soul. But from a scientific point of view we can’t prove anything.”

“I’m done listening to this technical mumbo jumbo,” said Humphrey heading into the kitchen.

“You’ll have to excuse him, Doctor. He's easily agitated.”

“I can see that.”

“I should let you go. I’ll contact you later.”

“Okay but don’t keep me hanging long, I have questions too.”

“I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” I let the web disappear and went after Humphrey. “What’s wrong?” I asked rounding the corner.

“I don’t care what he says. I know what I know.”

“He was agreeing with you.”

“He was humoring me!”

“Well you do have to admit it does sound a little… Do you hear hoof beats?”

Humphrey quickly moved to the window and pushed the curtain aside. Orange light cascaded in. With a jolt he burst from the kitchen. I followed to see him leap out into the night air and down the front steps. Staying in the shadows, I watched as several dark figures on horseback came out of the forest. Their heads were covered with black hoods. Each carried a torch.

“What do you want?!” Humphrey waved a wooden staff in the air. “Get away!”

“Greetings old sot,” the first one hissed in a nightmarish whisper. “Nice night for a fire isn’t it?” The dark figure moved his horse in sideways waving his torch toward Humphrey. “Why don’t you use your power, old man? Oh that’s right, you don’t use your powers do you?”

“You have no business being here!” Humphrey pounded the ground with the staff. “Now go away if you know what’s good for you!”

“What are you going to do, hit me with your stick?”

Humphrey swung the staff toward the figure.

The rider retreated with a quick kick and a pull on the reins. “That was not wise,” he hissed. His hand disappeared into his cloak. “We do not have time for your feeble threats, however amusing they may be.” His hand reappeared holding a blue glowing ball. It sparked and whined.

Before I could respond the horseman had hurled the orb at Humphrey’s chest. The impact sent the old man flying backwards.

“No!” I screamed, jumping from the shadows of the porch. Instantly the web ignited around me. My anger took the form of an explosive wind and the shock wave knocked the dark figure and his horse to the ground. I leaped through the air, landed full force on the sprawling phantom, and struggled to get my hands on his throat. One of the others came in from the side and took me to the ground. “You like to play with fire?” I grabbed his cloak and it ignited in a ball of flames. He let out a startled scream and began clawing at his garments. I set my foot on his chest and pushed him from me.

Another figure advanced. With a quick jab I pushed my fingers into the hard soil. The ground began to tremble as a jagged outline quickly formed around me. He struggled to keep his balance as I rose high into the air on a pillar of earth.

I needed a better view.

I stood and peered down at the remaining marauders. Two were frantically trying to snuff out their flaming friend so I turned the ground beneath them into quicksand. Two more were attempting to set fire to the cabin. I pinched a thread, sending my energy into the frame of the house. Two rectangular slabs bolted outward and connected with their faces. They were knocked cold. With a sweep of my arm I brushed their lifeless bodies into the pit of quicksand.

A sharp pain shot through my shoulder. I looked down to see an arrow sticking from the socket. “Who the… ?” I looked up and saw a figure poised to fire. With a thought a shield formed in front of me and the bolt glanced off of it. Using the threads around the creature and the sheer force of my will, the threads took on a substance of their own and coiled around his chest and arms. I lifted him high in the air before me.

“Now I’m REALLY angry!”

He clutched frantically at the hidden cables as I launched him into the air. If the initial tug didn't break every bone in his body, the fall certainly would.

The remaining three, including the one who had attacked Humphrey, began circling the land pillar. “You took me by surprise. That will not happen again,” he hissed.

“We’ll see about that!” I said, turning myself invisible.

He continued to look right at me, while his associates looked around.

I was unable to hide my surprise. “Are you-- one of The Ten? Are you Gaza?”

“Gaza would not waste his time with you.”

“Then who?”

“You are in no position to ask questions,” he hissed.

As we talked I searched for a thread that would bring me in behind him. With a flash of blue energy, I transported, reached up, and hauled him off his horse.

“How's this position?” I said with a grunt.

He disintegrated from my grasp.

I looked up at the figure on the horse next to me. “You want a piece of me?!” I lunged at him an his horse reared. I brought up the web and spun about. “Where’d you go, coward!”

“Watch out!” That was Thana’s voice.

I dove to the side as a huge block of granite hit the ground where I had stood.

“As much fun as this is,” came the raspy voice of my enemy, “I am being summoned. You will live a while longer.” I saw a puff of smoke. Then the two remaining horsemen disappeared into the forest.

I fell to my knees. The pain from the arrow was catching up with me. Placing my hand on the shaft I concentrated on its material and turned it to air. Fortunately it hadn’t hit any major organs; I didn’t know how to fix a heart or a lung. As I sealed up the wound Thana came to my side. I looked up at her. “How’s Humphrey?”

She could barely reply. “I- I think he’s dead.”

We walked over to where Humphrey lay. His chest was still smoldering from the attack. I examined his structure.

“Can you heal him?”

I looked at her. And sadness welled up inside me. “I’m sorry, Thana, there’s too much damage. Even if I use my power I don’t know enough about anatomy to heal him.”

A single tear trickled down her hard cheek. Here was a girl who was no stranger to pain. She knelt down and took his hand in hers. “Good night, great one,” she whispered. “I will look for you in the light.”