Dennis Jarman knew that someone important lay dead in 7 that came from previous numbers. He ran back the reel of time.
“Nick Barkley of Big Valley,” he spoke aloud, observing the past from a relatively safe distance. “Should’ve known: Big Valley was always pumping out the big V.’s (Villains). Graduate of Chry University like me. Or was it Chry State — never can recall. One’s team wears yellow-green and the other red-violet. Barton — that was it. Nick’s opposite at, yes, Chry State. Ned Barton I believe. Unless it was Nick and Nick was Ned. Barton-Barkley, though. Pretty sure I got that right at least. Better check. If I shout loud enough he may hear it as a tiny whisper. But also, better get ready to amscray if he’s the wrong Chry. He must not know of my past present future in any way. I’ve talked enough; time for action. Time for *time* action. Nick Barkley!!” he cried across the gap of space and time. Barkley lowered his gun and looked around on the ground, as if for a mouse. Good, thinks Dennis Jarman. He doesn’t know where I am. “I’m glad you lowered the gun!! Now lower your *shield*!!” This would be the proving test, because Chry State graduates don’t know what shields are, the tool of a soft and not hard scientist. One who believes in psychics as well as physics. Nick Barkley, who was truly Nick Barkley, lowered his shield. He looked in the direction of Dennis Jarman, saw an outline forming. “Good, good,” spoke Jarman over to Nick and walked toward him, form becoming corporeal for the latter. “Now give me the shield and let’s go home. We have a lot of tape to look at.”
He’s gone as far as possible into the past from the future present. He can only peer inside. But this star — is it the key? Is it — the *egg*?
Barry X. Vampire suddenly realizes he shouldn’t have killed off Jeffrie Phillips in his new novel, and that Arthur Kill is now over his head in searching for the egg. Cathy Love Peace Hippie Child shouldn’t have been bumped off either. Arthur Kill should have remained on Staten Island. Marty should have never summoned him. The list goes on and on actually. He’ll have to destroy pages 32-64 as soon as he gets back to his
campsite apartment. 1/2 of his novel suddenly vanished into thin air! But this star in front of him, illuminated by the red, is real. The star, this Etoile object, means something.
Peter, he understood, looking at a map in his head as well. Tracy Austin — Katy Kidd’s mother, who of course grows up to be Kate (The Real) McCoy. Tennis — a friend (88). “Lamb.” Peter, who seems to be the same as Axis even if he himself doesn’t realize it yet, is trapped in Fearzum — just like I am — because he is one with the Lamb, one with God perhaps. The Lord: The Lamb. Wheeler (Venus) has made it so. Marty has just made himself Starless and Bible Black, losing what is in front of me to behold. The star! “Etoile,” he repeats aloud.
He stares and stares until he becomes one with it.
He picks up the central 128 line on the other side of the World Wide Heroes Institute Building from the “egg”.
He pauses to take in the scenery. Tall, futuristic buildings still block his view of the centre from here. From the past he was destined to enter all along. He continues…
… to quickly come on this centre, also along a wall separating off a parcel from the rest of Fearzum-town, like he just passed. But this was different. This *hole* also contained objects. Past objects, Ancient even.
He stands as close to the actual centre as he can get and looks inside.
Hold on. What’s *this*? He reads the description: “Etoile”. Star in French. What is a *star* doing in the middle of the past?
Barry X. Vampire never made it out of the original 9×9 square of sims that included his home town of Bena(ngatron). He was still in Fearzum, struggling to choose a direction for escape. “West, obviously,” he might mutter at some point. “Or is it South?” Little did he know until today that the correct way out was *centre*, right in the middle of it all. I’m almost positive of this.
He uses his gift he’s had from childhood in seeing this centre in any sim he’s in. A red beam connecting ground and sky always indicates it — he *can’t escape.* It was inevitable that he grew to understand what this meant all along. Particularly frustrated at this day’s events and the inability to write, he’s drawn toward it. For calm. For peace. Maybe for even love. The love he misses from Cathy Love Peace Hippie Child, perhaps, left behind in Urqhart along with the nifty, many windowed house he liked so much, with the spinning tire outside that inspired the writing of his current novel, the newest working title being “Wheels Go Round”.
And what do wheels spin round? A centre. It was inevitable. Guided by the beam he starts to move away from a central western perimeter position. Due east — interesting again. What would he pass on this central line in?
For one, this fence sequestering a square of grassy green off from the rest of Fearzum-town. Not quite the past but getting there.
At its corner, he starts sensing the egg. Is this white object here an egg? It would be about the right volume, he ponders, if not the right shape. Is it in disguise?
Then he walks over to the other side and sees the “Multiscene” label and determines it probably isn’t. Onward and inward!