NOTHING IS BUILT ON STONE
In which Major Richard Blaine learns that in war, you do not catch a break ... you catch flak.
NOTHING IS BUILT ON STONE
“Your fate has not been writtenuntil you pick up the pen of ‘Today.’”
– Rabbi Lt. Amos Stein
I've always been impulsive. Mythinking is usually pretty good, but I always seem to do it after I do mytalking — by which time I've generally destroyed all basis for furtherconversation.
“Cloverfield!” I yelled. “Openthe window and jump inside as far as you can.”
“Why?”
“Do or die … literally.”
He did … and I heard a string ofprofanities from inside that I hoped Rachel had not.
She frowned, “Bloody hell! Someof those words I haven’t heard since my convent days.”
So much for hope.
It is anticipation andrecollection that fill the mind, never the sensation of the moment …that isfogged over by fumblings and fiasco.
Like now.
I looked down at Rachel. “Readyfor the last great battle?”
“You are foolish to speak of lastbattles, Richard. The Last Great Battle is always the next one.”
CLICK!
The lock was picked. She startedto open the door.
“OOFF!” went she.
Rachel scowled, “There’ssomething blocking us on the other side.”
“Three somethings, ah, someone’s onthe floor opposite this door, melded into one enormous nightmare of a corpse.”
“What?”
“When Reinhardt König triggeredhis devises, a breach in nearby contiguous realities occurred. Their differinglaws of physics clashed with our own, resulting in disastrous schisms.”
Her translucent face was one bigquestion mark, so I continued,
“Imagine a huge jar of waterhaving three other jars of different colored thick inks dumped into it … andthen swishing that mix about and throwing it onto a blank canvas. What wouldyou get?”
She scowled, “A mess?”
“Now, imagine the water is notwater, the inks are not inks … but all are volatile substances just waiting fora spark to ignite. And the immersion of these liquids is sparking as we speak.”
“God.”
“Yes, and worse ….”
“There’s worse?”
“I have no idea how to put outthe explosions to come or how many aberrations and resultant splintering’s ofrealities are fouling our world.”
Cloverfield cried out, “Would youtwo stop nattering? I have real issues in here!”
I smiled at her. “That tunnelthat was not a tunnel transformed us into what Reinhardt König hoped would bethe Master Race.”
“Did it?”
“We’re about to find out.”
With a push of my open righthand, I shoved open the door. Even before the tunnel, Sentient had boosted mystrength threefold.
Wrapping my left arm around herwaist, I hoisted her off her protesting feet and leapt over the monstrositythat once was three separate human beings.
They, at least, had the decencyto be truly and irrevocably dead.
A very pale Cloverfield slowlyapproached us, keeping a wary and wise distance from the horror sprawled behindus.
“You could have at least warnedme not to look at what remained of those two guardsmen by the window.”
“It would have only tempted you tolook even more.”
He smiled like a wolf. “Trueenough. But you could have given it a go anyway. Now, I might take updrinking.”
Paler than Cloverfield, Rachelmade a brave attempt at a smile. “You mean you don’t already?”
“Luv, all my life, I’ve gotteninto so much trouble, I had to keep both wits and body sharp.”
Cloverfield looked all around atthe blood-splattered walls with their humming and sparking devices and dials.“Love what König did with the place.”
Rachel cleared what obviously wasa closing throat. “Then, your taste must run to Salvador Dali.”
“Alberto Vargas, actually, Luv.”
She smirked, “How notsurprising.”
I realized they were both tryingfor humor to avoid the gruesome, elongated, inside-out steaming corpse of ReinhardtKönig … what was left of it.
“The King is dead; long live thenightmare he left behind,” I said low.
Sentient sighed within my mind:
‘The machinery of the world isfar too complex for the simplicity of men.’
Then, because my day wasn’tfouled up enough, the strange radio on the wall crackled into life:
“! König! Bist du da? Gib mir eine. Antwort, du unbotmäßiger Trottel! Das istGeneral Verner!”
Sentient took control of my righthand, sweeping it up and around in an intricate pattern.
The mangled body of ReinhardtKönig slowly faded from sight. I recognized the way it disappeared.
Sentienthad nudged the monstrosity several layers back in time, leaving the commandchair free from him and his blood and gore.
I sat in it, much to the dismayof both Rachel and Cloverfield.
I reached up and switched the transmitter to“Send” and spoke in König’s voice, using immaculate German.
“Reinhardt König is no longermere Oberführer. He has attained godhood, swine of a general.”
Rachel and James both choked,letting me know they understood German.
“What? You dare talk to me inthat manner?”
“Feel honored that I talk to youat all.”
“,you blind, egotistical fool! You did it! You conducted your damn experiment!”
“Several actually. Sadly, all thevillagers and all of my men did not fare so well as I. In point of fact, theydied most horribly.”
“As will you, for along with SSSonderkommando Dirlewanger, I have sent three Panzerkampfwagen VI Ausführung H’s!”
“Three Tiger tanks will beinsufficient, swine. And the less said of your pet psychopathic murderer and hisinept rabble, the better.”
“You will die, König! Die!”
“We all die, General. Some soonerthan others. But not me, swine. I have evolved. Have a miserable remainder of alife.”
With that, I switched the radiooff.
Cloverfield stared at me. “You’reinsane.”
I forced a smile. “Of course. Ithought you knew.”
“Nothing is built on stone. Allis built on sand, but we must build as if the sand were stone.”
- Jorge Luis Borges
