Other Worlds than These

 

Part 1:

 

            In the beginning, there was a blank page.  Then the Author took up her Pen and wrote upon the page; and from her words there arose mountains, and plains, and vast forests, and deep waters; and the Author was pleased, and called her creation Celeste.

 

            Then the Author called upon the powers of her Imagination and wrote of the founding of Celeste by the Seven: the brothers Bastion and Bartlet; the bards Helen, Ivy, and Mandolin; the wind charmer Gwendolin; and the philosopher Yosuke.  These were the first main characters in Celeste, and the Author gave them histories and families, and followers to aid them in their adventures.  Upon all of her characters, major and minor, the Author bestowed diversity and fantastic powers, for Celeste was to be a place where magic and science complimented and advanced each other.  And she called the people of Celeste Psions after the psionic powers she granted them, and she was pleased.

 

            For reasons unknown, the Author stopped writing after creating Celeste.  Perhaps her vision had been lost, or she simply did not have time to devote to the story.  It was even speculated that the Author was dead or had never really existed.  In any case, Celeste continued to thrive unattended, and its people were left to their own devices.

 

            In creating her little world, the Author never wrote of the death of her characters.  Animals could die; how else would the psions find meat?  But no psion ever died by the Author’s pen, and so the psions lived incredibly long and aged very little.  The Author also neglected to write about the lands, waters, and planets beyond Celeste.  As a result, travel beyond the borders of Celeste was impossible.  Many tried to leave Celeste to explore the Unknown, but all attempts failed.  Even the birds were confined to Celeste.  Like other birds, the birds of Celeste attempted to migrate during the autumn and summer seasons; and at each migration period, the birds would fly just so far before crashing into an unseen dome that completely encased Celeste.

 

            Then came the day of the Grand Experiment, when Broderick the Dark launched a psychic bomb and punched a hole in the psychic and spiritual energies of Celeste.  A team of psychics hand-picked by the Seven was sent in to stabilize and repair the hole.  The hole was investigated carefully for several days, and on the fifth day one of the team members fell in and discovered ...

 

 

            “Um...Professor Concordance?  Is this going to be on the test?”

 

            “...the Library.”  The professor’s shoulders slumped as he hung his head and sighed.  There was one in every class, one student who took longer to process information, and this year it was Ian Cerulean.  What those blasted scientists at Home Base saw in that particular strand of DNA he had no idea, but the resultant line of students was enough to give him migraines.

 

             “Yes, it’s going to be on the test, Ian Cerulean,” Professor Concordance answered as he resumed his proud posture and frowned at the student.  “It will also be on the final exam, so I suggest you take detailed notes.”

 

*****************

 

            Rodney smiled as he walked past GS-119.  Students of various ages were pouring out of the building, anxious to escape the clutches of the professors.  Rodney had never been to a government school, but he had heard stories.  From what he understood, most of the Guardians he worked with had been raised and trained in the government schools, particularly this one.  A few, though, had rather unpleasant memories connected with certain classes, especially Early Celestrian History with Professor Concordance.

 

            Central was as busy as ever.  The Founding Festival was mere weeks away, and the whole city was deep into preparations for the celebration.  Despite this, business went on as usual.  Students still attended classes, people still worked at their jobs, and every day the new recruits at Home Base went through rigorous training in hopes of becoming Guardians.  Many of those recruits would go out into Celeste to fight crime and train the local police forces in the outer regions of Celeste, and more would have the honor of remaining at Home Base as part of the Leonine Brigade, the elite force in charge of guarding Central and Ra-Lionel, ruler of Celeste.

 

            For a considerably smaller number, however, there was a greater honor to be had than serving in the Leonine Brigade, and that was being chosen to serve and protect the Library as Wanders and Gatekeepers.  The dream of every recruit who had the faintest glimmer of interest in the world outside of Celeste was to serve in the Library, for that was where all the manuscripts of every world ever written into existence were held.  Those permitted to go out into the field to study these other worlds and protect them from outside interference were known as Wanderers.  To be a Wanderer was to be both soldier and scholar, able to fight intruding entities and preserve the storyline.  It was not enough to be a skilled fighter; one had to have a love of learning.  Those who stayed behind were Gatekeepers.  They controlled all access into and out of the Library and other realms.  They were responsible for both the intelligence the field teams needed to complete their missions and for the security of the Library itself.  Both titles came with great power and responsibility.

 

            Home Base was located in the heart of Central.  It was initially built to protect the hole leading to the Library, but had in years past become the center of magical and scientific research.  It was home to the best hospital in all of Celeste, as well as the genetic research facility and the primary nursery.  Decanting day was also fast approaching.  Fourteen infants were decanted every year at each of the three nurseries and raised in the government schools.  This year would be no exception.

 

            That was not to say that Home Base was closed to the public.  Far from it!  Tours were held several times a day to educate the public about what went on there.  The tour groups were taken to see the developing embryos in the nursery, then out into the Department of Magic and Metaphysical Integrated Technology (MMIT) to see the latest advances and gadgetry; and then after a quick trip to the training fields to watch the troops, it was off for a quick peek at the Library.

 

            One such tour was in progress when Rodney at last reached and entered Home Base.  This also brought a smile to his face.  He, too, had taken the tour on his first trip to Central.  He had also been separated from the group when he stopped to tie his shoes.  If not for Solace and Cuthbert, he probably would’ve cried like a baby.  He had only been six years old at the time, but to look at him anyone would have thought he was at least thirty.  Forget being lost and afraid; the embarrassment of being found crying would’ve killed him.

 

            But that was a long time ago.  He had completed his first century now and still didn’t look a day over thirty.  His mind had finally caught up with his body.

 

            Rounding the corner ahead of the tour group, Rodney came upon a young man with spiky platinum blonde hair and pointed ears.  The young man was holding a backpack and a slip of paper, and was biting his lower lip as he frowned up at the directory on the wall.

 

            “Do you need some help?” Rodney asked as he approached the young man.

 

            “Oh, uh...yes, actually, I do,” the young man said.  He showed Rodney his slip of paper and asked where he could find the Library.

 

            “I was supposed to be there by now, but I got turned around somewhere and ended up back here,” he confessed with a nervous grin.

 

            Rodney chuckled.  “I know, all the hallways look the same.  I’m headed that way myself.  I’ll take you there.”

 

            “You’re a life saver,” the young man said, heaving the pack onto his left shoulder.  He extended his hand to Rodney.  “I’m Ian Point, by the way.”

 

            “Nice to meet you, Ian Point,” Rodney replied.  “I’m Rodney.”

 

            Ian Point’s eyes widened.  “The Rodney?  Rodney, the greatest Tap in all of Celeste?”

 

            “Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Rodney laughed, “but yes, I’m that Rodney.”

 

********************

 

            Solace hummed to herself as she reviewed her mission report.  She hated paperwork, but this mission had been very enjoyable and begged to be written in excruciating detail.

 

            “Violet will be so jealous,” she chuckled.  “She’s been wanting to visit Narnia for decades.”

 

            It had been a simple research mission conducted in The Magician’s Nephew with no contact with the characters at all, but Solace had witnessed so many amazing things.  To see a world being born was the most powerful experience Solace had ever had in her 300 years of life.

 

            Witnessing such power and magic was awe-inspiring, but it also helped determine information about Celeste’s own Author.  Celeste was a place of both magic and science.  It was possible that elements of Celeste had been inspired by The Chronicles of Narnia.

 

            “Return trip initiated,” said an automated voice.  Looking up, Solace saw the teleportation module spark and whir into action.  The podium in front of the module began to glow and holographic image of a book appeared.  It opened on its own to a specific page.  A portal opened up and out stepped Cuthbert, black mask and all.

 

            “Welcome back,” Solace said as Cuthbert stepped down from the module platform.  “How was it?”

 

            “Disgusting,” Cuthbert said.  He was completely covered in blood and dust.

 

            Solace frowned.  “What happened?”

 

            “I was disguised as a local,” said Cuthbert. “Totally minding my own business.  And then the largest cop I’ve ever seen starts shooting everyone in sight.  It was a complete bloodbath!  The guy I was standing next to...his head completely exploded.”

 

            “That wasn’t mentioned in the book,” Solace said.

 

            “Yeah, well, apparently there’s a lot more there than Stephen King described,” Cuthbert replied.  “Next time I have a mission in Desperation, I’m taking a raincoat and an umbrella.”

 

            Solace nodded and removed her glasses, cleaning the reflective purple lenses with a handkerchief.  Her eyes glowed purple for a second before shifting to a brilliant blue.

 

            “You’d better shower and change before the new guy gets here,” she said, gazing up at her bloody friend.  “Wouldn’t want to scare him.”

 

            “After all that training, a little blood shouldn’t phase him.”

 

            “No, but that’s hardly ‘a little blood’.”

 

            “Point taken.  When’s he coming anyway?”

 

            “He was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago, but you know how this place is.  He probably got lost.”

 

            Cuthbert nodded.  “Well, if he’s not here by the time I get back, we’ll send out Search and Rescue.”

 

            “Noted.”

 

*****************

 

            “So you’re completely self taught?”

 

            Rodney nodded.  “For the most part, yes.  I had some help refining and strengthening my abilities once I started here, but everything else I figured out on my own.”

 

            Ian Point gazed in awe at Rodney.  He had been a fan of the silver-haired Tap for as long as he could remember.  Seeking was his secondary gift, and he had worked hard to reach his current level of competence.  He was nowhere near as talented as his hero, but he hoped he could impress Rodney nonetheless.

 

            Primarily, though, Ian Point was a Telekinetic.  Not a bad gift to have, really; there was quite a lot one could learn to do with that ability.  Levitation came pretty easily for him in training camp, as did moving objects; flying, however, was a challenge.  He could hover in place, no problem, but he needed something to push off of in order to fly, and then only in a straight line.  Flying was the least of his concerns, though.  He was more concerned about the additional training he would need to become a Caller.  When telekinesis was combining with seeking, one could, in theory, call forth the sought-after person or object.  This required much intense concentration for long periods of time since Calling did not make the person or object fly through the air at top speed in a straight line toward the Caller.  When a person was called, he or she felt an uncontrollable urge to travel toward the Caller.  When an object was called, the people around the object had a sudden urge to take the item to the Caller.  The journey could take anywhere from a few minutes to a few months.  Until the item made it to its destination, the Caller had to stay focused.  It was an intense, punishing practice that required years of training and meditation, and Ian Point was eager to learn.

 

            In the mean time, though, he was happy to listen as Rodney answered all of his questions about the Library and the people who worked there.  He was especially interested in Cuthbert, who would be mentoring him for his initial training as a Wanderer.

 

            “Is it true he was born without a face?” Ian Point asked.

 

            “The way I understand it,” Rodney said, “the skeletal structure was intact, but everything from his nose down was completely fleshed over.  The doctors had to operate on him as soon as he was decanted, or so the story goes.  But you’ll see for yourself soon enough.”

 

            “Did they give him a nose when they operated?”

 

            “Of course not.”

 

            “So he has no nose?”

 

            “Nope.”

 

            “But he’s a Metamorph.”

 

            “Yes.”

 

            “So why doesn’t he just morph himself a nose?”

 

            Rodney stopped and chuckled, shaking his head a little at Ian Point’s question.

 

            “If you could, would you get rid of the points on your ears?” he asked in return, grinning as Ian Point frowned in thought.  “Just because you can do something doesn’t necessarily mean you should.”

 

*****************

 

            “Still not here?” Cuthbert asked upon returning to the control room.  His hair was still damp and his towel hung around his neck.

 

            Solace cocked an eyebrow and grinned at the sight before her: clad only in his uniform slacks--no shoes, no socks, no, shirt--Cuthbert cut a most impressive figure.  He hadn’t bothered to put his mask back on either.

 

            “In a hurry, were you?” she asked, unable to keep from grinning.

 

            Cuthbert flashed her a lipless grin.  “Just a little anxious, is all.  I have this weird feeling, like something’s going to happen.”

 

            Cuthbert and Solace had the same gift set--Psychokinesis and Telepathy--except in reverse order.  While Cuthbert was primarily a Psychokinetic, Solace was primarily a Telepath.  However, both had honed their Telepathic talents and learned the art of Empathy.  They would never be as good as natural Empaths, but they could sense things most natural Empaths could not.  Natural Empaths only sensed emotions and deeply connected with people; Solace and Cuthbert could sense emotions and the changes in the vibrations of the everyday activity.  For them, it was as if they could tune into the rhythms and emotions of Celeste itself.  There was no explanation for it and many Natural Empaths refused to believe Solace and Cuthbert’s claims at all despite supporting evidence.  Solace and Cuthbert believed it was that kind of self-absorbed, elitist attitude that kept those Empaths from experiencing it at all.  Violet was an exception.

 

            “I know what you mean,” Solace said.  Again she removed her glasses and cleaned them with her shirt.  She squeezed her eyes shut as she cleaned the lenses, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose.  “I was fine until a little while ago, but it’s starting to get stronger.  The vibes are all wrong.  Someone or something is planning something.  It’s just a matter of when.”

 

            Fingers brushed against her neck.  She sighed and relaxed, chuckling a little as the fingers gently prodded and stroked her tense neck muscles.

 

            “Thanks, Cuth....”  Realizing suddenly that Cuthbert hadn’t moved and couldn’t possibly be massaging her neck, Solace leaped from her chair and let swing a punch that knocked her unseen foe into the wall.

 

            “Ow!  What’d you do that for?  I was just trying to help.”

 

            “Damn it, Dorian, don’t sneak up on me like that!” Solace shouted.

 

            Laughing, Dorian faded into view.  “Oh, lighten up, Solace.  You looked tense.”

 

            “Yeah, well, sneaking up on me isn’t helping,” she grumbled, flopping back down into her chair.

 

            “You’re just mad because you thought I was...”

 

            Solace glared at Dorian with glowing, demonic red eyes.  Dorian swallowed the rest of his sentence, deciding that silence was the wisest course to follow.  Just because he was a fully certified Ghost didn’t mean he wanted to test the limits of psionic immortality.

 

*****************

 

            “Here we are.”

 

            Ian Point gave Rodney a questioning look.  “This is it?”

 

            “You bet.”

 

            “...It’s a hole.”

 

            “Not just any hole,” said Rodney.  “The Hole.  This is the Broderickian Hole that leads to the Library.”

 

            “...Oh...”

 

            “You had Early Celestrian History with Professor Concordance, didn’t you?”

 

            “Yes, actually, I did, but why...”

 

            “Did you like the class?”

 

            “It was alright, just kind of dull...”

 

            “I hear that a lot,” said Rodney.  “Trust me, it gets much better.”

 

            The double doors they had entered to reach the Broderickian Hole were not the only entrance.  To the left and right of the Hole were corridors leading to the lockers and dormitories.  Men and women shared the same facilities without complaint or complications.  There were separate areas inside for those who weren’t comfortable showering with members of the opposite sex or preferred to shower alone, but for the most part no one really cared.  It was just the way things were done.

 

            “Will you be staying here, or do you have a place of your own?” Rodney asked as they approached the Hole.

 

            “I have a place,” Ian Point answered, “but it’s kinda small, and my roommates are very noisy.  I’m hoping they’ll let me stay here until I find an apartment I can afford.”

 

            “Check with Housing tomorrow morning,” said Rodney.  “They’re very good at finding apartments for us.  They’ll take care of you.”

 

            Stepping through the Hole, Rodney and Ian Point came upon a long flight of stairs leading up to an archway with another set of double doors.  Unlike the doors outside of the Hole, which were plain and unremarkable, these doors were ornate and impressive.  The other doors had said “Nothing to see here, keep moving,” but not these doors.  These doors were warm and inviting.  These were doors that said “Come in!  Come in!  Please make yourself at home.”

 

            Ian Point stared slack-jawed at the doors.  Rodney smiled and nudged him.

 

            “I told you it would get a lot better,” he said.  Ian Point nodded mutely.  Together they climbed the stairs and pulled open one of the heavy doors leading to the Library.

 

            The Library held everything that had ever been written.  Stories, letters, legal documents, plays, notes hastily scribbled on coffee-stained napkins: all of this and more was held in the Library.  There were three floors dedicated to electronic mail.  There was a whole wing just for teenage angst poetry.  New material appeared daily in the form of novels, and manuscripts, and telescripts, and notebooks; the sheer volume of literature was mind boggling to say the least.

 

            And cataloguing it all were the Librarians, the civil servants of the Library.  They would never go out into the field, nor would they read a fraction of what the Wanderers and Gatekeepers did.  Their function was strictly bureaucratic and theoretically impossible.

 

            There were six Control Rooms in the Library, and a seventh was currently being constructed.  The main control room, Control Room 1, was set up in a reading room that had been empty when the Library was discovered.  It was large and spacious with a tall ceiling, and perfectly accommodated the teleportation module that allowed the Wanderers to enter into and explore the various worlds of the different works.  This was the room to which Ian Point was to report, and Rodney made to sure to guide him directly there.

 

            They entered just as Dorian stepped up onto the transportation module.  Solace was glaring at him, but her eyes were glowing orange behind her purple lenses.  Whatever Dorian had done to incur Solace’s wrath, she was quickly getting over it.

 

            “Good afternoon, all,” Rodney said with a nod.  “Look who I found on my way here.”

 

            Dorian stepped down from the module and everyone shifted their attention to Ian Point.  Ian Point resisted the urge to fidget and stood at attention as he had been trained to do.  The others chuckled.

 

            “Relax, kid, we’re not that formal around here,” Dorian said, running a hand through his unruly green locks.  “Think they’d let me get away with this if they were?”

 

            Ian Point blushed and relaxed his posture.  “Sorry, force of habit.”

 

            “Nothing to apologize for,” said Solace, flashing the young man a warm smile.  “You just have to get used to the place, that’s all.”

 

            “Yeah, no kidding,” Ian Point replied.  “I got lost on the way here.”

 

            “Everyone gets lost during the first month or so,” Solace said.  “That reminds me: Cuthbert, did the department head make it in today?”

 

            Cuthbert frowned in thought.  “No, I don’t think he did.  Haven’t seen him since last Thursday, actually.”

 

            “I’ll send out the search party,” Solace replied, and she picked the phone to make the appropriate calls.

 

            Meanwhile, Cuthbert stepped forward and extended his hand.  “Welcome to the Library,” he said.  “I’m Cuthbert, and the green-haired fellow is Dorian, our resident Ghost.”

 

            Dorian waved.

 

            “That’s Solace on the phone.”

 

            Solace waved and went back to talking to Security.

 

            “You’ve already met Rodney,” Cuthbert continued.  “Violet is off today, but she’ll be here tomorrow for your physical.  And Ian Ivory is out in the field.  He’s due back within the hour.”

 

            “False alarm, guys,” Solace said as she hung up the phone.  “Chief’s not here at all today.  He’s speaking at one of the government schools, trying to get the kids interested in Library careers.”

 

            “Cool, in that case, I’m not going to worry about my assignment just yet.”

 

            “Normally I’d contradict you, ghostie, but it just so happens that I agree,” said Solace.  “Shocking, I know.  Don’t get used to it.”

 

            Before Dorian could ask Solace why she was so inclined to let him slack off, the alarms went off signaling and emergency return.  The module whirred and sparked, alarms beeping and whining.  The podium glowed and the pages of the holographic book turned as if caught in a strong wind.  A portal opened up and spat the bloodied, semi-conscious body of Ian Ivory out onto the platform.

 

            Cuthbert and Solace were instantly at Ian’s side.  Shedding her coat and shirt, Solace stretched herself over Ian Ivory’s body, her bare chest pressed against his.  Her whole body glowed as she recited the mantra meant to help her focus on the task at hand while giving Ian Ivory’s mind something to cling to.  Cuthbert knelt at Ian Ivory’s head, making sure his pulse and breathing were stable while Solace poured every ounce of energy she had into healing the wounded man.

 

            “What’s going on?” Ian Point asked.

 

            “You’ve never seen a healing before?” Dorian asked.  Ian Point shook his head.

 

            “Solace is our resident Healer,” Dorian explained.  “She shares counseling duties with Violet, but all the minor medical stuff is hers alone.”

 

            “You call that ‘minor’?” Ian Point asked.

 

            “Compared to some stuff I’ve seen, yes,” Dorian replied.  “But no worries.  Any time there’s an emergency return, an alarm goes off in the hospital and a med team gets sent our way.  Solace is primarily trying to keep him stabilized until the team gets here.

 

            “Is that why she’s, um...you know...”

 

            Dorian arched an eyebrow at Ian Point and filed his reaction away for later questioning.  “She’s stabilizing his heart beat,” he said.  “Ian Ivory is very sensitive to touch.  It’s his defect, and it’s heavily linked to his primary gift.  He’s a Postcog, and with this particular defect, that makes him a Touch-Know.  When he touches something or somebody, their entire history floods his mind.  It’s useful, but it can be pretty overwhelming.  Skin to skin contact is an extremely intimate healing technique, but it’s the one sure-fire way to protect him while he’s healing.”

 

            “Because he absorbs the healing energy faster?” Ian Point asked.

 

            Dorian nodded.  “That’s one reason, yes.  See, in a normal healing, the Healer holds her hands over the wounded person and recites her mantra.  Can’t do that with Ivory.  If anyone else were to touch him during the healing, it would distress him.  In this kind of healing, it doesn’t matter who else touches him because his mind is already focused on Solace.  As long as she stays in contact with him, he can remain in a calm healing state.”

 

            “So she’s like a cocoon.”

 

            “More or less.”

 

            On the platform, Ian Ivory began to convulse.  Solace stretched her arms out over his and entwined their fingers.  Cuthbert gently tugged the remains of Ian Ivory’s shirt out from between them to allow for full contact.

 

            “Come on, Ivory,” Cuthbert whispered.  “Hang in there.  Focus on the mantra.”

 

            “No need,” Solace whispered.  “I got him.  He’s here.  Poor kid’s scared to death, but he’s here.”

 

            Nodding, Cuthbert stood and left Solace and Ian Ivory alone on the platform.  The med team arrived moments later and took both Ian Ivory out on a gurney with Solace still stretched out on top of him.

 

            Cuthbert followed the med team to the hospital to keep watch and report any changes back to Rodney in the Control Room.  Rodney started filling out the report on the emergency return and the events thereafter.  Therefore, Ian Point was turned over by default to the only person left who could give him his orientation and the basic tour of the Library: Dorian.  However, Dorian had other plans.

 

            “Okay, kid, I’m going to show you everything you need to know to fit in here,” Dorian said, throwing an arm around Ian Point and leading him out of the Control Room.  “Everything and everyone worth knowing, I know ‘em all and will impart this knowledge upon you.”

 

            “Could you please stop calling me ‘kid’?” Ian Point asked.  “It’s embarrassing.”

 

            “Kid, how old are you?” said Dorian.

 

            “Twenty-four,” Ian Point answered.

 

            “Right, and I’m 275,” replied Dorian.  “Ergo, you are ‘kid,’ and I am ‘sensei’.  Got it?”

 

            “Yes,” Ian Point answered with a sigh.

 

            “Yes, what?”

 

            “Yes, sensei.”

 

            “Much better.”