A (Not So) Healthy Dose of Chaos: A New World

  The five of them spent almost ten hours watching through all three movies. Half-hour breaks were held between each movie.

  Star Doors was a space opera, and just as Guy had said, science fiction, but had mystical powers with some sort of necessity for melee combat. She had confidence that if she was in the movie, she could have beaten the son, father and the Imperial leader in melee combat . . . all at once.

  But for what the movies were, they were entertaining: the triumph of good over evil, of freedom over oppression.

  She’d noticed something about Alisa during the movies. Alisa wasn’t watching the movie so much as she was looking up at the screen, and then writing in a notebook. Cassandra was tempted to ask her what she was taking notes on, but reminded herself that Alisa was Alisa, and decided to skip it in favor of watching the rest of the movie.

  At the end of the films, Guy, Jill and Nellie bid farewell to Cassandra and Alisa, and the trio left, planning to meet back at college the following week.

  On the drive home, Alisa was reading through her notebook.

  Curiosity finally gripped Cassandra and wouldn’t let go. “What kind of notes were you taking? It seemed like you were barely watching the movies at all.”

  “They’re notes and schematics to make a ‘beamsaber’.”

  “‘Beamsaber’? You mean like the ones they were swinging around in the movies?”

  “Correct.”

  “Can you make one with Earth’s current technology?”

  “It’s possible. It may require a small fusion generator.”

  “Wait. Didn’t Ken tell you not to make anything weird like that without telling him?”

  “I wasn’t planning on telling him.”

  Cassandra’s mouth dropped open. “You know, for such a quiet girl, you’re frighteningly sneaky.”

  No response came, but Cassandra could have sworn Alisa grinned.

  Chapter Eight

  Or, A (Not So) Healthy Dose of More Training!

  “Have you been practicing since last time?”

  Ken and Silver were outside again, under the out-of-phase-with-the-rest-of-the-world ‘curtain.’

  “I’ve been trying, when I have the time. It’s a lot easier since you taught me this ‘phasing’ thing. Otherwise, I would have attracted a lot of attention floating around.”

  “True. Very true,” Silver said, nodding.

  Ken thought back to his conversation with Katrina’s mother. “Who are you really?”

  “I already told you.”

  “Well, I was talking with Katrina’s mother. Since you’re from the future and all, you know her, right?”

  “Yes. I have met her in the future. But she wouldn’t know of me right now.”

  “That’s convenient.”

  “I wish I could go into more, but there is a bigger picture here.

  “A big picture, huh?”

  “Yes, to make things go smoothly. Or a little more smoothly.”

  “That’s something that’s been bugging me. You keep telling me I need to work with you, when you don’t even tell me what’s supposed to happen.”

  “It’ll happen whether you know about it or not.”

  “Give me something to work with here!”

  Silver scratched his head. “Okay.”

  They moved up to the deck. “What if I told you those girls, and a few others, would be the most important people you will ever have in your life?”

  “I’d say you’re crazy.”

  “Even if I was, it wouldn’t change the fact they will become just as I said. More than you could possibly imagine. I’m here to make sure they stay safe, with your help. You wanted me to make sure of that.”

  “You mean I sent you back in time!?”

  “There’s no sending involved, since you and I are able to do it on our own. Every time I come back, there are small alterations in the timeline. I’m here to correct any other issues.”

  “Somehow I don’t think going back in time is legal. Or is it?”

  “In the most extreme of cases, it’s permitted. Some also have carte blanche to go back through time for minor missions. But just going back in time for no reason? You are correct in assuming it’s not ‘legal,’ as you put it. Especially for one’s sole benefit.”

  “Like trying to get lottery numbers?”

  “Like trying to get lottery numbers,” Silver affirmed.

  “I’m still not convinced your intentions are good.”

  “Even though you were flying a few days ago?”

  “I thought that was floating.”

  “Same difference.”

  “Then prove it. Prove to me that what you’re going to teach me is necessary, that you can go through time.”

  “Are you sure about this? I . . . have a way, but you’re not going to like it,” Silver said, gravely.

  “I can handle it.”

  Silver shrugged in defeat. He put his left hand on Ken’s right shoulder, and a circle of light appeared on the ground beneath their feet. The world around them fluctuated and pulsated, like blood rushing through an artery. It eventually slowed to a stop, and the circle below them disappeared.

  “We’re here.”

  “Where are we? When are we?”

  They weren’t on the deck of Ken’s house. It was someplace completely different, but somehow familiar. They were standing on the sidewalk along a street dotted with houses.

  Ken looked around and he finally remembered. It was his family’s first house after they had moved to the state he lived in now. It was when he was younger, a few years before his sister was born.

  He laughed in surprise. “My old neighborhood! I barely remember this place.”

  Silver didn’t say anything, and was just staring across the street at another house.

  Ken looked in the same direction. “That’s my old house! Wow! It looks just like it did back then.”

  From the right side of the house came a young boy, around six years old, with dark red hair. He was running and laughing.

  “Is that me?” Ken remarked, tipped off by the boy’s hair.

  Chasing after him was someone, and she came into view. It was a girl around the boy’s age, with blonde hair. She was laughing as well, yelling “I’m gonna getcha!”

  “Not if I can help it!” the boy yelled back to her.

  Ken froze, almost literally, as an icy feeling spread throughout his body. He recognized her.

  He turned back around quickly and shut his eyes. “Take me back. NOW.”

  Ken felt Silver’s hand on his shoulder again.

  After a moment, they were back on Ken’s deck. He staggered toward the railing, and rested against it. Once he got his breath back, he glared at Silver.

  “I told you, you wouldn’t like it,” Silver stated with a matter-of-fact tone.

  “Why there? Why not anywhere else!?”

  “It was the best way to show you that I’m serious. Because there are people that are worth remembering . . . and those that are worth protecting.”

  Ken grabbed Silver by his shirt collar.

  “Showing me that . . . going back there was uncalled for!”

  Silver didn’t flinch. “As I recall, you said you could handle it. That aside, you promised what happened to her wouldn’t happen again, right? Not if you could help it.”

  Ken pushed Silver back, letting go of his collar.

  Silver looked directly at Ken, then away. “They’re going to do the same here, until they get what they want.”

  “That’s another thing. Who are ‘they’?”

  “They are three former allies who want access to the Library for their own benefit.”

  “Doesn’t the Library prevent that from happening!? Don’t Peter and Nathan do anything to stop them?”

  “Knowledge is neither good nor evil; it’s just how you use it. Peter’s job is simply to make sure visitors don’t break the rules when accessing information.
Believe it or not, there are checks and balances within the system.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense!”

  “I know.”

  “And why am I involved!?”

  “Because they will make you get involved. The three have a leader, and he’s duping them. They’re not going to listen to me. The three of them will die, the girls will die, and you and I will die unless we do something.”

  “Why me? I have enough to worry about. How is this fair!?”

  Silver shook his head. “It isn’t fair. But there are some things we have to do, even if we don’t want to do. Tell me, what would you like to have happen? Leave them be? I want to save them, because it’s better than the alternative.”

  “What do I have to do?”

  “You have to keep training.”

  * * *

  “Remember how you took that power before and made yourself float? You will need to grab a little more, and focus it into some sort of projectile to launch. Something like a knife, or a ball.”

  Ken focused, drew upon the power, and imagined a ball in his hand. And there is was: a ball of energy.

  Ken laughed. “Hey! I did it!”

  “I wouldn’t hold onto that creation of yours for too long. It’s volatile.”

  “Huh?”

  It exploded.

  Ken was left singed.

  “See?”

  * * *

  “How about a little . . . flying,” Silver announced.

  “You mean like before?” Ken asked, leaning up against his car.

  “No. I mean real flying.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “Of course it is. It just takes the right mind for it.”

  Ken stiffened up, estimating this would hurt . . . again.

  Silver put his hand to his forehead. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Yes, sir,” went sarcasm from the head of the Goldwrite household.

  “Start floating.”

  Ken closed his eyes and concentrated, calculating the space-time, and he felt himself leaving the ground, and stopped about a foot in the air. He kept the image in his mind, and opened his eyes, looking down at the ground, then at Silver.

  “Now what?”

  “It’s simple. Go higher.”

  Ken concentrated again, building on what he had done earlier.

  And he didn’t budge at all. He couldn’t seem to gather more space-time to propel him further. All he could mutter was a “Huh?” and try again and again with the same result.

  Silver put his hand to his chin and thought out loud. “Hmm. Sometimes it takes a different way of thinking.”

  “Come again?” Ken asked, returning to the ground.

  “I mean, to solve a problem, sometimes it takes a different way of going about it. Consider it like taking a different road to get where you’re going. You still get to the same place, but the way is different.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “How about . . . wings?”

  “Wings?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t know how to make those.”

  “Well, trying using space-time to create some on your back. How about like Angelica’s?”

  “So I’m going to fly like a bird?”

  “Just do it.”

  Ken rolled his eyes, but went with the suggestion. He created an image of himself in his mind, and then imagined white wings sprouting from his back.

  He felt the effect almost instantly. Something – two things – were connected to his back around his shoulder blades. It was a very odd sensation, almost like he had sprouted two new arms.

  “Not bad,” Silver said, after a whistle.

  Ken moved these new ‘arms,’ and the wings lightly flapped.

  “They’re real!”

  “Well, they’re real . . . in a sense.”

  Ken wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy trying to crane his neck around to see his wings.

  “You can admire them all day, or use them. Your choice. Just don’t lose focus on them while you’re flying. I’m sure you can guess what the result may be.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Just do what you did before. Your mind may be a . . . little more clear now.”

  Ken calculated as he had before, and rose off the ground.

  “Now, just flap those wings of yours, and take off!”

  Ken thought it would be easier said than done, but there was nothing else to do but give it a shot. He felt his new limbs, and moved them.

  Happily, they moved with his thoughts just like they were his real arms or legs. He went upward, moved forward, back, and came back down.

  “Wow,” was all Ken could breathe.

  “That’s not really flying, you know. How about you go around the town for real?”

  “Can I really do that?”

  “Of course. Remember, we may be phased out and can go through people, but solid objects need to be watched out for. Trees, telephone wires . . . oh, and watch out for airplanes. There is an airport near here. Oh, and if you go too high, the air gets thin.”

  Ken nodded, and took off again, going up several hundred feet. He looked down at the ground. It felt like one of those dreams where one actually does fly—never mind that in those dreams, Ken was actually falling and not flying.

  He took off towards the middle of town. He reached it in no time at all, and landed on top of one of the buildings. He walked to the edge and looked down at the street, watching the cars go by, and people walking on the sidewalks. He felt that he was still ‘phased out,’ so there was no danger that anyone would see him.

  He flew upward again, this time going farther north. He rose higher up, spun, dropped, turned—laughing all the while. He couldn’t think of a time when he felt as exhilarated as he did at that point.

  “It seems you’re having fun,” a familiar voice said from Ken’s right.

  Ken looked over and saw Silver flying as well. No wings, though.

  “This . . . this is incredible!”

  Silver smiled. “I knew you’d like it.”

  Ken laughed again, enjoying the feeling. The rush of the air, the look of the sky, the scenery below. . .

  . . . the tree that was rapidly approaching him that he wouldn’t be able to avoid.

  “Ack!”

  Pine needles hurt when one bursts through ten branches of them at fifty miles per hour.

  * * *

  Ken and Silver headed into the house through the back door. Cassandra was sitting on the sofa when they went into the living room.

  “Just the lady I wanted to see!” Silver said.

  Hearing the sound of sliding metal – Cassandra unsheathing her saber – made Silver jump to a corner, behind a chair.

  “How long are you going to be mad about that birthmark!?” he yelled.

  “What do you want?” she barked, sheathing her weapon.

  “I need a favor.”

  Her reaction was nothing but a glare.

  “It’s not for me, it’s for him!” he shouted, pointing to Ken.

  “Oh, okay. What is it?”

  “He needs combat training.”

  “Combat training? For what?”

  “It’s a long story,” Ken said. “But, hey, it’s a good way to get some exercise, right?”

  “It can be. It moves the limbs, sharpens the mind, hones the reflexes. You might be a little old to start, but better late than never.”

  “Gee, thanks. A decrepit old man, am I?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. The earlier you start swordplay, the better you become. That’s so your body and mind recognize their relationship when it comes to combat.”

  Silver stood up from behind the chair. “I’m not really asking for him to be taught swordsmanship. I’m asking you to teach him combat in general.”

  “You’re being vague.”

  “I k
now, but go with it, okay? It will be melee combat, of course, but he’ll be using a blunt weapon.”

  Cassandra shrugged. “I guess I can do that. Our first encounter wasn’t pretty, though.”

  Training with Cassandra? Melee combat? Did Silver really expect him to get good doing something that he had only seen in movies?

  Ken thought back to the back yard many days prior, and the humiliating display of the pipe getting knocked out of his hands. He didn’t want to repeat that.

  Cassandra nodded, with a little bit of excitement in her eyes. “When do we start? If you want, we can do it in the morning after I do my warm-ups.” She nodded again, and got an evil grin on her face. “It might be nice to get a sparring partner.”

  Then she started to laugh.

  Ken joined Silver behind the chair, concerned for his life.

  * * *

  Try as he might, Ken couldn’t get through her guard. Every step he made, she had a counter step. Every swing he made, she knocked away. He was thankful that she was using her saber sheathed.

  He tried an overhead attack, but threw himself too much into it. Cassandra gracefully stepped aside, smacked him on the rear with her saber, making him do a not-so-graceful face-down tumble to the grass. His pipe landed a few feet away.

  “Ow,” he moaned.

  “I didn’t hit you that hard.”

  “That wasn’t me whining. That was my pride,” Ken commented, turning over and sitting up.

  “Look on the bright side. At least you’re holding your weapon right.”

  He nodded sarcastically. “You only had to knock it out of my hand three times before I got the hang of it.”

  “It’s a good thing my mother isn’t teaching you.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Even your eyelashes would be bruised right now.”

  His eyes went wide with fear. “I never want to meet your mother in person!”

  * * *

  Breakfast was light. Ken was starting to feel the soreness in his muscles. It had been three days since he started his morning combat with Cassandra.

  He could see she was delighted to have someone to face off against . . . or at least beat up. He was hoping she wasn’t taking out any possible pent up resentment against her mother on him. Ken was in no way a masochist, and he hoped her family wasn’t predisposed to sadism.

  Ken was putting the dishes in the dishwasher when he heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. All the other tenants stepped lightly, so it could only have been Silver.