Part 9 (2/2)
”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 searching for them, for an exact match. If he for them, for an exact match. If he made made replicas he wouldn't have to search for them.” I gave Humphrey a quizzical look. ”Right?” 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 G.o.d. He blames G.o.d 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? 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 physical plane?” plane?”
”Yes, and although I haven't figured out what this place is, is, I'm pretty sure we're not dead.” 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? 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 G.o.d'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 edge of death?” 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.”
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