Knocking on Reality's Door (The Chronicles of Clark Wilson)

  As far as the laws of mathematics refer to reality, they are not certain, and as far as they are certain, they do not refer to reality.

  -Albert Einstein

  This was not a good thing. There was no one here to help him, no one to ask for advice. And worse yet there was no door for him to open a Gate and travel through. He was not sure how he got here; he did not know if it was something that fork had done while he was calibrating the equipment or if he had done it himself somehow. Hell for all he knew fork had done it on purpose. He had no idea what the equipment was capable of doing or what he himself was capable of for that matter. After thinking about it he realized that the only thing he really knew was what he had been told by Tomos and who knew if Tomos had told him everything about traveling or not. For that matter he was not sure if what Tomos had told him was even true. It could all be a lie, well not all of it obviously. It was definitely true that there were such things as travelers and the between because he had experienced both of them for himself.

  No matter what was true and what was not true about what he had been told, it was true that he was in a jamb now. If he had traveled here himself then he would have to find out how he did it in order to get out of here. If he was sent here by fork then he was in a lot of trouble. That meant that if fork had accidentally sent him here, he would have to find out how it had happened and where he had been sent to and then determine how to go about getting him back if that was even possible. And if fork had sent him here on purpose then he was at fork's mercy. And he was not sure that mercy was in forks vocabulary. But if what he had been told so far was true then it really was not possible that fork had done anything to make him travel whether on purpose or by accident. Only a traveler could travel without a door or gate that another traveler had opened. And there was obviously no door or gate here. Just thinking about it made his head spin; this could get confusing very fast.

  More than likely it was the same situation that had sent him into the between on the mission yesterday. Because his body or mind or subconscious had determined that he was in danger and he had travel to get away. So if that was the case then fork was responsible albeit without knowing it. What he had done with his equipment had triggered him into traveling without being conscious of it.

  He walked around his prison and inspected the walls, after making a complete circuit of the cave he came full circle without finding any openings in the walls. He looked down at the floor and inspected it also. No cracks or fissures ran through it and it was free of any debris. Now how had this cave come to be, he wondered. It appeared to be natural and not man made. But although he did not know a lot about caves he always thought that they were formed by water flowing down through the rocks. And over time the water dissolved the softer minerals and left the harder ones, thus forming the cave. But there did not appear to be any way in or out for water that he could see. He shined the flash torch upward to the roof of the cave going side to side with it he examined the entire roof. As he looked up at the roof he noticed that the roof was more oblong then the floor. The floor came close to being a circle whereas the roof was more of an egg shape. There was no opening in the roof that he could see, but he shined his flash torch up into the end of the roof that appeared to go farther than the floor. He then brought his light down the wall, there did not seem to be anything different about this part of the wall from the rest of it. He backed up as far from that part of the wall as he could and looked again with his back against the opposing wall he shined his torch light down the wall; there about three feet from the roof was a ledge that ran along the wall parallel to the floor. The ledge was about twelve feet up the wall from the floor and looked to be about six to ten feet long. He shined the flash torch around the rest of the wall walking around the room with his back to the wall and looking at the opposite wall for more ledges or openings. Finding no more irregularities in the wall he went back to the one ledge he had found. After examining the wall going up to the ledge he did not think that there were enough lumps and bulges to allow him to climb it. However he knew that he did not need to climb the wall to reach the ledge. Backing up against the opposite wall again he placed his left foot on the wall with the toe of his shoe on the floor and knelt down in a crouch. He took the flash torch and placed it in his mouth so that his hands would be free. Placing his hands on the floor and assuming a classic runners pose he estimated that the wall with the ledge was about fifteen or sixteen feet in front of him. Taking a deep breath and then blowing it out and taking another deep breath he oxygenated his blood to get him up the wall. He took off running at the wall he ran past the point that a normal man would have jumped to try to reach the ledge with his outstretched hands. Instead he ran right at the wall, three feet from the wall he launched into his leap, but instead of leaping for the ledge he planted his left foot on the wall then his right foot as he ran up the wall. His body at an angle to the wall as he ran up it five feet then seven with the next step, nine and his head and chest cleared the level of the ledge and he grabbed it with his hands and gave himself the little boast needed and twisted his body so he landed sitting on the ledge. This was not very difficult for someone with his body type. His head was no more than one or two feet from the ceiling of the cave as he sat on the ledge. Taking the flash torch out of his mouth he turned around and shone the flash torch back behind him into the depths of the ledge. As he had hoped it was more than just a ledge, it was the floor of a tunnel that continued into the wall of the cave. It was only a little more than a foot high where it went into the wall. He laid down on the ledge and slide to the back peering into the tunnel with the flash torch. The tunnel appeared to run straight and level as far as he could see with the flash torch, it appeared to be smooth for the most part. It would be a tight fit for him but he had little choice. Unless he wanted to stay here and hope that he could find a way to travel he was going to try to escape through this tunnel. He started sliding into the tunnel with his arms out in front of him the flash torch leading the way.

  As Clark crawled through the tunnel Westal was in the gym having spent the last five hours sleeping. As he worked out he thought back to the last mission to the sword world and the city of Metazorlan. The things that the new knocker did were not possible. No traveler that he knew of could be a knocker and a walker, and that is exactly what it appeared that Clark was. So if what they had all been told about travelers was not true what else that they had been told was not true? Was it possible that the agency was not what it claimed to be? Were they all living a lie, was it even true about the arties and their bid for power and to overtake the Multiverse?

  Tarkin, another protector, came into the gym and approached Westal, "How about a little sparring to start the day off right?"

  "Surely I could use the practice, my last mission was just yesterday but I am always looking to improve myself. How have you been Tarkin, I have not seen you in some time."" Westal said.

  "I just finished a four week indoctrination program for new recruits, the agency wanted someone who had some experience to take it and evaluate the material. I think it covers everything a new recruit will need to know but man was it boring for me." Tarkin said as he walked to the practice ring and picked out a practice sword to use.

  Westal walked into the ring and picked up the first two practice swords on the rack. Walking to the center of the practice ring Westal swung both swords a few times to get the feel for them. Tarkin walked into the ring and stopped just inside the edge of it facing Westal. "Are you prepared to be beaten Westal?"

  "Ha-ha" smiling Westal laughed, "you are feeling very good today Tarkin. You have never even come close to hitting me once in all the times we have sparred together. What makes you think you will touch me let alone beat me?"

  As Westal asked this Tarkin lunged for him trying to catch him off guard, the point of his practice sword aimed for Westal's throat. With a lazy looking back hand of the sword in his left hand, Westal batted the lunging sword to the side while at th
e same time bringing his right arm up and tapping Tarkin's chest with the tip of the practice sword in that hand.

  "Oh Tarkin have you learned nothing since last we sparred, or were you in a class room so long that you forgot how to fight?" Westal laughingly asked.

  Tarkin stepped back and began circling to his right, against a normal swordsman this would have been a good maneuver to get at his opponents' weak side. But Westal was not a normal swordsman; he used two swords at the same time and was very proficient, with either of the two swords.

  A cunning look came over Tarkin's face, "You always were a cocky one Westal, always thinking that you are the best. You never will even consider that there might be someone who is better than you. That is your biggest weakness and will someday be your downfall!" as he spoke he continued to circle and his voice grew louder, two other swordsmen had come into the gym and quietly picked up practice swords and entered the practice ring behind Westal. "Now it is time to teach you a lesson Westal."

  Saying this Tarkin attacked Westal with a flurry of slashes and thrust aimed at Westal’s head and torso. Suddenly while Westal was occupied with Tarkin's attack the two swordsmen behind him attacked him, one slashing from the left and one slashing from the right. At the same time Tarkin thrust at Westal from the front. Instead of blocking Tarkin's thrust Westal did the totally unexpected. He jumped backward between the other two swordsmen behind him. One powerful jump backward landing him behind the two swordsmen as they were slashing where he had been standing till a second ago. As he landed his arms were extended out in front of him and he easily smacked the two of them on the side of the head, hard enough to knock them each to the side out of the way. Then in the blink of an eye he was back in front of Tarkin, whose arm was still extended in the thrust. Westal brought his right arm forward jabbing the tip of that practice sword into the pit of Tarkin's stomach. Tarkin's breath whooshed out as he doubled over in pain; Westal brought his left sword down on the back of Tarkin's shoulders knocking him to his knees on the floor.

  "You are absolutely right Tarkin. I am over confident and unaware of my short comings, and some day it will be the end of me. But not today it looks like." Westal said as he bent down and helped Tarkin to his feet. "It would appear that three is not your lucky number today. Maybe four would be better next time."

  Tarkin took the offered hand and stood up, "Damn Westal even when I cheat I cannot beat you. I guess that is why you are considered the best field protector in the agency." Tarkin said slapping Westal on the back. "Next time I go out I want to go out with you, I can think of nothing better than to see you in action."

  "Well I think that I am going out again in a few days. I assume that Clark will be in training and testing for a few days till they figure out what is going on with him."

  "Yes I heard that you had some interesting things happen on this mission. Is it true that your traveler had a break down and the agency had to send out a walker to retrieve your mission?" Tarkin asked.

  Westal's mind raced, something was wrong. He knew that the agency would not allow such a rumor to run through the agency control center unless it wanted it to. This meant that the agency was trying to cover up what had happened, or at least someone was. Someone did not want anyone to know about Clark and the possibility that he may have abilities that no one else had. Or maybe that the agency was not what it seemed to be. And if the agency was already putting out a cover story five hours after the companions return it did not look good for the companions. If the agency was covering up the mission and what had happened on it but had not told him about the cover story, it would only be a matter of time before they shut the companions up. They were the only ones who knew for sure what happened on the mission. They would take out the companions and take Clark prisoner and try to find out what he was capable of, at the least. And then they would lie to him to get him to do what they wanted or if they thought he was to powerful or they could not control him they would dispose of him as soon as possible.

  "I have to get going Tarkin thanks for the spar. I'll talk to you later."" Westal said putting the two practice swords back into the practice rack against the wall. He headed out the door and to the nearest mag lift. If he was correct in his thinking then he needed to warn the others. But first he had to get back to his room and get a few things. He took the mag lift down to the residential level for the protectors, a different level than the one that Clark lived on; it was actually several levels above the level that Clark's apartment was on.