THE SLIDE Part 4
Chapter 49: Redux Dogfight Part 1
Fantasy, The Beast That Eats Its Own Tail
Recap
They collided in a ball of flame. The flame ball fell through folds in space-time into and out of various realities. It fell through a fragmenting spiral of dragon’s breath and into a decimated cedar grove. As the now smoldering ball fell through the failing dragon’s breath spiral land, it merged with an intact cedar forest and stable dragon’s breath and was immersed in swamp water.
“I’m getting a sinking feeling,” Nikos said.
“I understand now,” Kuzma said. “We are merging with the selves of ours that were slated to die, to sacrifice themselves so at least the light side of us could complete our mission.”
“I feel some relief,” Hrez said. “But we are sinking into a great depth, so that death we avoided seems closer now.”
“As in — crushed to death?” Sophia wondered.
Maria nodded, in a somber mood.
Four charred human bodies, one of whom was fading from existence, and the charred Ouroboros, the she-drake, remained.
On an Island Seared by the Beam of Light
“I’m perfectly fine. Alive, not dead. Not dead by fire.” He patted his chest. “Not anymore.” He found himself standing in the center of a crater on an outcropping of rock surrounded by a body of water. The water was black and reflected the sky of black. It was the eye overhead. “This must be the logic of the Slide,” he whispered to himself.
“But I do not know who I am.”
A beam of light shot down from off center of the eye above and transversed his torso, but left his arms and feet on the outside. The scream was absorbed by the light. His head was jerked upward, and he was instantaneously blinded. There was the pain, and he immediately separated from it and experienced a profound peace inside the beam.
Light Beam Flickers
The ball of fire was extinguished by the water in the marsh. There was close to nothing left of the plane. The bodies smoldered in a heap on terra firma.
A bright beam of yellowish-white light shone down directly from above. After a few moments, it ceased, save for a sizzling sound at ground level.
Round Robin — Vortex in Play
Marie was in the protected area sitting on the saddle, Zed was unconscious in a heap at the aft end of Ouroboros’ protected area. Moments later, Ra descended from above in a column of light directly in front of Marie.
“You need to move aside,” Marie said from a place of command without fully realizing who stood there.
And Ra complied with little thought. The beam of light he had arrived inside was dissipating. It popped as it vanished.
“Ra, Suni, Ra,” Marie fully recognized him.
“On my Spirits, Marie, I am so happy to see you — “ He stopped short as Ouroboros’ thoughts entered him and light formed around him and he popped out.
“Pay heed to the tasks at hand. Bank, Marie, bank,” Ouroboros “said,” through her thoughts.
Marie complied, and a rainbow streamer of light flowed out of her back. The she-drake banked with the vortex’s currents at a sharper descending curve, direction right and towards the center. Zed’s listless body shifted, and she turned to look, only to see him vanish in a blur…
Ra arrived in a blinding flash of white and yellow light. He appeared again to the right of the saddle of Ouroboros only instead of Marie in the saddle it was Farha. Sophia Papadopoulos popped into the left of the saddle. The nature of their arrival elicited a balking reaction, heaving Sophia to the front and then the back with a mighty force timed to Farha’s second reaction. Sophia groaned, collapsed, groaned, and cursed. As she stood, Ra was whisked away upwards in a spiral of light, and Sophia was taken in his wake.
“Pay heed to the tasks at hand. Bank, Farha, bank left,” Ouroboros “said” through her thoughts.
Farha complied. The she-drake banked with the vortex’s currents at a sharper ascending curve, direction left and towards the center.
On the ground steadfastly planted on the rocks as if he were a part of them, his arms were jerked upward. Outside the main column of light that consumed his torso, shoulders, and head, separate beams of light sang upwards trough his arms and hands. Halfway between the center of the vortex where he stood and the eye in space, Ra flickered in and out of the center beam and Nikos was held perfectly still in the left light beam. Hrez was in the right light beam, turning slowly counterclockwise and rapidly back clockwise. Ra popped out while the beam remained strong and steady.
Ra awoke in the navigator’s seat aft of the pilot, next to Maria Papadopoulos. This was the plane where Tem and Zed had been, along with the others. Kuzma was in the pilot seat, struggling to bring the plane out of a steep dive.
“I’ve been having odd visions or dreams,” he said to Maria through her headphones, despite the loud din of the descending plane.
“You must be Ra,” Maria said calmly as a way of introduction. “I’m Maria. Tell me of these visions. I am in the need of distractions.”
It was as if Kuzma, Ra, and Maria were in distinct separate reality bubbles.
Thus, The Voice Spake
Each in their place. Next comes acceptance without reasoning, from purest knowing, the voice spoken into all nine of their beings, not just their minds, but their bodies, hearts, and light spirits.
There was silence as they looked from their places across time and space.
Marie Bissett was in the saddle of Ouroboros. Nikos and Hrez appeared in light beams on either side of her.
Kuzma, Maria, and Ra were in the plane having avoided an impact on the ground were climbing on the edge of the vortex’s cyclone.
Farha and Sophia, daughter of Nikos, were in another version of Ouroboros, while Zed was gone.
Acceptance at last, the voice uttered.
“Who is that speaking?” Ra wondered aloud. All nine heard him.
“He or she is the messenger.” Hrez was certain of it as speech left his lips.
“The voice is at once familiar and foreign,” Farha remarked.
“Quiet,” said the voice of Mustafa, the storyteller. “This voice is a rare opportunity few are granted and you attempt to return to fibble-fabble of your reason. This human voice is connected to the being you call Vortex. Listen…”
“Who said that?” Nikos demanded.
“That was Mustafa, the storyteller. It is rare for him to speak of the story from inside it.” Kuzma was humbled in his speech.
I feel as I’m in the midst of a Flash Gordon B&W serial/pot-boiler, Saturday afternoon at the movie house (read raucous laughter — in my head). And with that in mind…
Stay tuned for another rare appearance by the storyteller, Mustafa, who will intercede on the behalf of “clarity” for parsing the alternate realities in this Chapter 49 rendering. Thank you for your patience.
The previous chapter:
An Index of Parts 1 and 2:
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