REALITY, THE THIN ICING ON A CAKE WITHOUT SUBSTANCE
Like a "peón" on a checkerboard, my protagonist, Richard Blaine, finds himself being moved across the board of Time without his consent.
As Sentient tells him: 'You are under the illusion that you matter. You do not. Only my wishes matter.'
Like Blaine, you are now skipped ahead a year and a half a world away ...
(You will have to read my novel when it comes out to find the mysteries and dangers faced by he and Helen Mayfair in a year of surviving and growing closer)
THE ANGER OF GENERALS
“Losttime is never found again, and what we call time enough, always proves littleenough.”
- BenjaminFranklin
What the?Where was Helen? She’d just been stretching up to kiss me … and when did I gettaller than her anyway?
Now, Iwas here, wherever “here” was. And I couldn’t move a muscle. I suddenlysmelled apple blossoms mixed with pineapple.
I groundmy teeth. That I could still do. The Voice. The Voice was behind this somehow.
She hadrobbed me of my first kiss.
‘Make mejoyful beyond dreams and cease your whining about that kiss.’
That now,I could hear the Voice was shivering weird. I thought back to the Voice: ‘Ihaven’t whined about it! And where the hell am I?’
‘In yourunconscious you have complained ad nauseum of that lost kiss. And you are in the outer office ofGeneral Omar Bradley, commander of the American forces on the eve of invadingFrance.’
‘What areyou talking about? I’ve just been drafted.’
‘I havetaken control of your body for the past year and a half, thus saving your lifenumerous times, Captain.’
‘Captain?’
‘You arelaboring under the misimpression that you matter. You do not. I am not in yourconsciousness to say “please.” There is much I need you to do for me, and so Ihave positioned you where you will be of the most use. But ….’
‘Butwhat?’
‘But notbeing human, I may have not had you function within the American Military inthe most … congenial fashion, getting you in some … difficulties.’
The door beforeme thrust open, and a haggard young officer stood glaring at me from theopening. Words of ice appeared under the man’s chin like credits in a movie’sbeginning: CHET HANSEN, closest and most trusted of the general’s two aides.
OfficerHansen grumbled, “If you two believe in God, I suggest you both say a fastprayer. I’ve never seen the general so angry.”
Both?
It wasthen that I noticed the grim-faced sergeant sitting stiff in the chair to myright … though it took a wrench of sluggard eyes to see the bullet head of theman.
Like withOfficer Hansen, strangely colored words appeared beside his head: SergeantTheo Savalas, twenty-two years of age, drafted the same month as you. B.A. inpsychology, trained as a carpenter by his father. Considers you cold, remote,but eerily intelligent.
‘I wonderwhose fault that could be, Voice.’
‘If youmust call me something, call me Sentient. Now, hush! Observe how I arranged yourfirst meeting with the sergeant, obtaining you his fierce loyalty despite his puzzlementabout you.’
Like amovie fading out only to re-focus into another scene, the world before my eyesblackened and changed locales. I was standing in the shadows of a dingy alley. Fivelaughing soldiers, the stink of their whisky breaths reaching easily to where Istood.
The drunkswere kicking the hell out of a prone officer. I couldn’t make out his rank. Butrank was no armor for the beating they were giving him.
‘Lieutenant’ murmuredSentient. ‘Lieutenant Stein.’
“We don’tlike Jew Boys,” they hooted in unison.
SergeantSavalas walked calmly around the corner. “That’s no way to treat an officer.And I thought we were fighting Nazis not becoming them.”
The biggestof the bunch turned to face Savalas. “Now, you done it. Now, we got to killyou, too.”
Behind thesergeant five more soldiers appeared from the encroaching shadows. The look onhis face said he suddenly realized he was in deep … merde.
Eventhough I realized this was only a memory, I tried willing my body to standstill. No good. I saw myself step out in plain sight.
I heard adeeper version of my voice speak, “In this global conflict, there is no roomfor cowards on the side which fights for sanity.”
“W-Wheredid you come from?” frowned the leader.
Sentientspoke through me again. “You do not possess the mental capacity to understand atruthful response to that inquiry, so I will merely cripple the lot of you.”
My headspun as it appeared as if my body bounced through the moments like a stoneskimming across the surface of a lake.
‘A moreapt analogy than you realize, Blaine.’
As theworld slowed to a stand-still, I stood over the broken, bleeding attackers. I hada flurry of images of my feet and hands darting, hitting, and thrusting. To myutter surprise, I was not even breathing hard.
I turnedto the sergeant and spoke in Sentient’s deeper voice. “You failed to maintain aproper assessment of your surroundings. You will have to do better when youbecome one of my Spartan 300.”
“Y-Youcan’t make your own squad.”
“SergeantSavalas, in the days to come you will be surprised at what I can do.”
The sergeantmust have been reliving the same incident for he muttered under his breath, “Surprisedat what you can do? Like getting us shot by a firing squad?”
I feltsorry for the guy and managed to force out of numb lips, “It is when we feelthe most lost that sometimes we find our truest friends.”
He grunted,“That Marcus Aurelius guy you keep quoting?”
“No,” Ismiled with lips that fought me. “The Brothers Grim.”
Come thedawn, come the cold
Calm thebeating air
Chill thenight, soldier light
We'll bedancing there
Rise up,rise up
Daysstretching weary wings
Come theday, come the dawn
Somewherein the rain
Low myheart, Low my life
Forgeteverything
Come theday, Thief of the night
Lifts hisvoice to sing
Rise up,rise up
Ever victorious
- Thea Gilmore
