This weeks winner!

This week's amazing book giveaway video ... I mean it this time ... Amazing ... CLICK HERE!

We'll see you after the New Year for a three book giveaway from Jan Karon plus a Tote Bag.


Happy Reading!

John Hileman
Managing Editor
CFBR

CSFF Blog Tour: Day Three

Being that this is the third and final day of the blog tour for The Charlatan's Boy, by Jonathan Rogers, I'd like to finish by talking about the writing. It is not a coincidence that this novel captures the imagination from the first paragraph. Jonathan Rogers understands the principles of good writing.

Narrative voice is the bedrock on which all other elements sit. With a good narrator, you can describe the insides of a Driver Motor Vehicles building, and still keep the readers attention. A good narrator has a distinct speech pattern, and a unique perspective. In the Charlatan's Boy, the narrator is Grady. His simple southern charm and unique outlook on life, captures the reader's attention from line one. But, Jonathan Rogers doesn't stop at just having a great narrator; he makes sure to put a hook on the first page. The young orphan Grady wants to know where he came from, but the only person who can tell him is a man who makes his living lying to people. This wonderfully interesting hook is made more interesting by the introspection of the narrator, who rightly points out that no one truly knows where they were born. We have no choice but to trust someone else to tell us. And, this insight is what launches the story.

With the narrative voice and hook taken care of, Jonathan Rogers proceeds to develop the main characters. Floyd is a traveling con-man who doesn't really have any qualities of value, but seen through the eyes of the young orphan, Grady, who doesn't have any other father figure to measure Floyd against, we manage to see a glimpse of something special. There are a host of other characters, from rowdy cowboys, to assorted side show entertainers. Jonathan Rogers is a master craftsman who never loses focus of the narrative voice, as he describes one interesting character after the next-- all through the unique perspective of young Grady.

The Charlatan's Boy begins strong, and end strong, with a wonderfully entertaining, and sometimes touching string of events. I highly recommend this for all ages. If you're looking for a book to read with your family, you will love this book.

 

CSFF Blog Tour: Day Two

You're probably wondering what a Feechie is. Okay ... maybe you're not. I'm sure the only reason you never once thought about what a Feechie is, is because-- quite frankly-- you've never heard of one. But if you had heard of one, you'd definitely be wondering-- that is, of course, if no one told you what they were when they first told you they existed at all.

Feechies are the mythical residents of the Feechiefen Swamp, sort of like marionettes without strings, climbing from treetop to treetop draped in animal skin furs, and armed with spears and bows. They are a fierce, wild, ugly group of rail thin midgets-- not the kind of creature any civilizer would won't to be like, or look like-- except one civilizer that is.

Grady is a wonderfully ugly orphan with one blue eye and one green, and a chin so weak you can't rightly tell where his lip ends and his neck begins. And for Grady, there is nothing more right in the world than playing the part of a crazed Feechie boy. He likes thinking he's a Feechie, because being a Feechie is a whole lot more exciting than being an ugly boy whose parents didn't want him.

For the longest time, Grady has played the part of the Wild Feechie Boy of Feechiefen Swamp, but folks has stopped believing in Feechies. And now Floyd's forced to try other trickery to make a living. Unfortunately, this new trickery doesn't set well with Grady. He doesn't like tricking people. He liked it best when he was giving the crowds something of value: a real magical event like nothing they'd ever seen before.


Tune in tomorrow for the last installment of this months blog tour.

CSFF blog tour: Day One

If you like to read ... this book is for you. Seriously. This book is for everyone. I received a copy of The Charlatan's Boy, as part of the Christian Science Fiction Fantasy Blog Tour, and after reading the first four paragraphs, I knew I had to read this book to my family. The colorful language and clear narrative style, captured my imagination from the first line.

Each night-- as we were able-- my wife and two children (ages 11 and 14), found a comfy place to relax, and I read two chapters from this wonderful book. It was a quirky, fun fill adventure we will cherish for some time.

The best way to introduce you to the The Charlatan's Boy is through the words of Jonathan Rogers. Here is how it begins ...

"I don't remember one thing about the day I was born. It hasn't been for lack of trying either. I've set for hours trying to go back as far as I could, but the earliest thing I remember is riding in the back of Floyd's wagon and looking at myself in a looking glass.


I've run across folks claim they know everything about their birthday--where it happened, who they was with, what day it was. But if you really press them on it, turns out they don't remember no more about it than I do. They only know what somebody told them.


I don't care who you are-- when it comes to knowing where you come from, you got to take somebody else's word for it. That's where things has always got ticklish for me. I only know one man who might be able to tell me where I come from, and that man is a liar and a fraud."

You're hooked, aren't you!! Now go buy the book! I'll write more about it tomorrow.


Regards,

John Hileman

Lyn Cote: Historical Romance

CFBR: Thanks for joining us Lyn. Tell us a little about "Her Healing Ways".


It's a Love Inspired Historical, the final in Gabriel Sisters series about three Quaker sisters who fight injustice and find true love in the wake of the Civil War.


ISBN-13: 978-0373828494
Back cover:
Unconventional. Unafraid. Unwelcome. A female physician with an adopted black daughter? The townsfolk of Idaho Bend will never accept Dr. Mercy Gabriel—even when faced with a deadly cholera epidemic. But all Mercy needs is one man willing to listen…and to trust.
Four years of war command turned Lon Mackey into a footloose gambler who can't abide attachments. Yet he can't help getting riled by the threats Mercy keeps receiving. Her trailblazing courage could reignite his faith and humanity. And his loyalty could make her dream—for the first time—of a family of her own….


CFBR: Do you use real people to model your characters?


Not really. Each character becomes a person in their own right. I might use a trait or quirk I've noticed in someone but just that not anything else from that person.


CFBR: How does your walk with Christ influence your writing?


I think the two are so intertwined that they are inseparable. Writing is my gift of service. I like the fact that my books go over the world. I'm a worldwide missionary from my desk!


CFBR: Does being published by Love Inspired help you in your promotional efforts?


Harlequin is THE NAME in romance and they promote our books worldwide. Also they have excellent distribution. Their books always get into Walmart. And that's important since nearly ½ of all paperbacks in the US are sold in Walmart!


CFBR: Aside from writing, what else are you passionate about?

My family. I love my husband and children. Oh, and our cats!

CFBR: What is coming up next, Lyn?

Right now I'm finishing up the final book in my "New Friends Street" series for Love Inspired romance. The series is set in my home state of Wisconsin and features three stories about three Habitat for Humanity houses being built on New Friends Street for three families in the making! The first in the series, Shelter of Hope, was released this September and the next two, Daddy in the Making and Building a Family will be released in 2011. Drop by my website http://www.LynCote.net for a printable book list and information about all my books.
I'm also going to be doing something special on my blog http://strongwomenbravestories.blogspot.com in January. I'm going to be posting my very first manuscript, LaBelle Christiane, in serial form weekly in the new year. Drop by my blog this coming Tuesday December 7th to learn more about it!

Exclusive: book online #8

CHAPTER 8

THE BRAVE KIND SNEAK

001001011001110

We continued our journey to Humphrey’s, this time side by side. My rapport with the young lady had completely changed. We shared some pleasant conversation and even a joke or two.

"I don’t know," I said. "I give up. What is a dyslexic agnostic insomniac?"

 Her eyes twinkled. "Someone who stays awake all night wondering if there really is a dog."

It took me a second but when I got it we both broke into a roar of laughter. "Did Humphrey tell you that one?"

"Yup. He had to explain dyslexic to me though. He was always teaching me lots of new terms. When he told me what that one meant I thought I would never stop laughing."

"Humphrey sounds like a good man."

"Oh, he is. The two things he loves most in the world are making people laugh and arguing. What’s really fun is when he’s arguing with one person and making another person laugh at the same time. He used to have fun twisting my father’s words around. Then he would smile at us when Daddy became flustered. Humphrey's quite the character."

"Is that the village up ahead?" I pointed.

"Yes, that’s Ristol. We should stop there and replenish our supplies. We'll need them for the second half of our journey."

"Good idea. Lead the way."

Ristol had definitely seen its share of hard times. The buildings, most of which were made of barn board, were worn and lacked maintenance. And the people didn't look much better. They appeared tired, weathered, and very poor. But their eyes reflected strength and determination. Life was tough on them no doubt but I sensed that they stood strong and faced life’s challenges together.

I should have put my blindfold back on, but it was too late. The news of my arrival spread like wildfire. People came out and stared as we passed through town.

A woman came running out of a building. "Lord, wait! I beg of you! Wait!"

I slowed my horse and looked down at her filthiness. Her appearance was haphazard, as if she had lacked the proper time to get ready for the day. She was aged beyond her years. Desperation marred her otherwise pretty eyes.

"Lord, my son is very ill. I have given everything I own that he may be cared for but he is slipping away and I can’t afford to pay for an expensive doctor to come in from the city. Please help me. You’ve got to help me!" Tears ran down her dusty face.

My heart hurt to see her pain. I looked at Thana. Her expression was one of sadness. "Can I help her?" I asked softly, not wanting to put Thana on the spot.

"If there is a physical way I will help too." She dismounted and approached the woman. "Shesu, where is he?"

"He is inside." She looked up at me, her eyes silently pleading for help. I sensed she did not welcome Thana’s presence but she did not voice her thoughts. I gave her a shrug.

We entered the hovel where the woman’s son lay on a cot. The room looked like a medical combat zone. Jars, pillows, dishes, ointments, and other various articles littered the floor and counters. She had indeed been very busy. I stepped over to the cot and looked down at the ashen face of her son. He was visibly sweating. His pillow was damp. "Do you know what caused his illness, ma’am?"

She moved to my side. "He was running in the field behind our house when he stepped on a metal spike. Soon after he began to get sick."

I went to the base of the cot and lifted the blanket and was shocked to see the piece of metal still protruding from the boy’s foot. I looked at Shesu, my mouth gaping. "Why has this not been removed?"

"The healer said removing something from a wound that deep might release his soul from his body. I didn’t want to take that chance."

I looked at Thana, then back to Shesu. "What foolishness! The boy could have died from infection! Bring me some hot water, several clean rags, and some pure alcohol if you can get it. Thana, put something in the boy’s mouth so he doesn’t bite his tongue."

 Shesu quickly put a pot of water on the fire then ran out the door. Thana rolled up a cloth, put it in the boy's mouth, then gently took his hand. He watched as I firmly took hold of the spike. He turned to Thana with pleading eyes.

"Sorry, son," I said. "But this is going to hurt. Brace yourself." I pulled gently, then harder. There was some resistance. So I gave a firm tug then stumbled backwards as the spike came free.

The boy twitched in agony, then passed out.

Shesu returned with the cloths and a large flask. I took one of the cloths and applied pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding. Once the bleeding slowed I dipped another cloth into the hot water and carefully cleaned the infected area. After removing as much of the oozing puss as I could I poured a liberal amount of whiskey over the wound. It was fortunate for the boy, and us, that he was unconscious.

The young man began to move his head, mumbling something unintelligible. His mother moved quickly to his side.

"This should stop the bleeding," I said as I finished wrapping the area. "And hopefully any further infection. You will need to change the cloth three or four times a day and keep the area around the wound as clean as possible. As for your son’s fever, it should go down if you tend to his foot properly."

 "How can I ever thank you?" she asked, kneeling before me.

 "You can thank me by taking care of your son. It is my hope that his condition will improve. Use this if it does not." I handed the woman a coin. "Rub it softly in your hands and pray to me if your son’s condition worsens. And do not go to that healer again. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Have faith, and he will be okay."

A crowd had gathered in front of the woman’s house. We mounted our horses and began to move but it was difficult to get through. "Make way!" yelled Thana. The people began to move aside but it was still slow going. Pleading eyes looked up at me. I could have easily delivered these poor folks from their poverty but Thana would not have approved. Was there anything wrong with offering a little comfort to these unfortunate souls?

I thought back to what Thana had said earlier. "You take away our strength, and replace it with dependence." Perhaps she was right. Pain makes a person stronger. Without sorrow growth is hindered. Who was it that said through pain comes change? I couldn’t remember but it made sense. If I were to take away the challenges of these people’s existence what service would I be doing them? It would take away their sense of accomplishment, maybe their sense of purpose.

Humphrey may have been right to a certain extent but I felt his convictions were a bit extreme. I didn’t think offering a little help could hurt-- but then again where would I draw the line? If there was a divine plan I was given my power for a reason. To use it irresponsibly would be wrong. I knew this. But to not use it at all would be just as bad.

Eventually we reached the other side of the bewildered crowd. Thana turned to me and spoke. "I think we shouldn't stop for supplies. We should have enough for now and Humphrey will take care of us when we get to his cottage."

"Whatever you think is best."

"Again I feel I need to thank you for respecting my wishes-- and also for helping Shesu and her son."

"You don’t need to thank me, I enjoyed helping them." I smiled to myself. If the woman ever did rub that coin she was in for a surprise. When their backs were turned I had used the web to create a solid gold coin covered in brown chalk. It was worth enough to pay for a certified doctor and then some-- just in case. Again I thought, a little help can't hurt.

The mighty Dessa Forest appeared on the horizon. It was extremely dense and as Thana had said the horses would not be able to get through. We found the hiding place her father had cleared out long ago. It was a small pocket just inside the wood, partially overgrown from years of disuse, and cut out at the site of a natural spring. The horses would have grass to eat as well as plenty of fresh water.

Thana located a crude gate made of twisted sticks and brush, disentangled it from the overgrowth, and pulled it across the opening. The gate had a dual purpose. Not only did it camouflage the hiding place but it would also keep the horses from wandering off.

The path through the gnarled wood was still partially formed so we didn’t have to hack much. An occasional tree branch needed to be cut but for the most part, it was passable.

My mind drifted. So many bizarre things had happened in this strange world, it was hard to sort through it all. The thing troubling me most was the fact that I was apparently playing a part in some kind of experiment and the guys running it were unwilling to tell me where I was, how I got here, or the purpose behind it all. If I could only unravel that mystery then maybe I’d be able to figure out the dynamics of this place-- which might help us to combat Gaza.

Before my contact with the outside world this place had been mystical, almost awe-inspiring. But now that I knew others like myself were in control somehow it wasn’t the same. The magic was watered down; it saddened me.

As I had thought all along, I was no god. I merely possessed the power to effect this place. The others were no different. --But what I couldn't figure out was how the people of this world fit into the mixture. They must have been created for the experiment, synthetic simulations perhaps, but they were so real. When I helped the woman and her son not once did it occur to me that they might only be computer simulations. I was completely immersed in the event. Even if I’d felt sure they were simulations I still would have felt compelled to help them. After all, who was I to judge?

I looked at Thana walking in front of me. Every detail about her seemed real. She approached a branch, reached out, snapped it, then continued on. Her shoes crunched upon the leaves on the ground and her hand absently brushed a strand of hair off her face. I could faintly smell her musk oil perfume. If she was a simulation she was the most complicated simulation I’d ever seen or heard about.

It ate at me. This place was too real to be virtual, yet too different to be real.

A person under hypnosis could enter a dream-like state in which everything would seem completely real. But hypnosis was a suggestive state, and here, in this world, I was in complete control of my actions, or at least I thought I was. And if it was hypnosis then I should have been able to bring myself out at any time because hypnosis is a state of consciousness which has to be accepted by the subject. The hypnotist cannot control a person under hypnosis unless that person is willing. I couldn't remember where I'd learned all this but somehow I knew it to be true.

I could have been asleep and dreaming but this experience was far more real than any dream I’d ever had. From what I could remember my dreams usually consisted of brief imagery with an emotional base. If I were to dream about a beautiful girl she might be an amalgamation of many women, perhaps changing identities as the dream progressed. For a time she might be an old girlfriend or a girl I met at the grocery store then later turn into a baby-sitter I’d had as a child.

Somewhere in the depths of my broken memory, words from an old textbook echoed. As the characters and events of a dream shift, the dreamer continues to feel comfortable because although the dream does not make sense to the conscious mind, it makes perfect sense to the subconscious mind. If a man were to dream of swimming down a river, it might flow through a house he once lived in. He could swim to the edge, get out, and the river would be gone behind him. Regardless of the inconsistencies he would continue to feel right at home in the outlandish twists and turns of his mind.

That’s how dreams tended to work. So, although this place had its twists and turns, there was far too much solidity for this all to be a dream.

I let out an involuntary sigh.

Thana looked back at me. "You okay?"

"Just thinking."

"Anything you want to share?"

"Not especially. Maybe another time."

She shrugged her shoulders and turned back to the path.

Even that brief exchange bothered me. Her response was so real. What IS this place?

We walked for well over an hour before the path opened up a bit. Thick tree trunks rose up like pillars, supporting the leafy roof. The uneven ground crunched as we walked. And I could hear the sound of rushing water coming from up ahead. The waning light of the sun flickered through the trees’ gnarled wooden fingers. Soon it would be night again.

A feeling of uneasiness crept over me. I peered into the darkening woods. At first I didn’t see anything. But then the shadows began to move. The movements were subtle at first but soon there was no question. Someone, or something, was there.

"How much farther?" I asked in a low voice.

"Not far."

"Then we should pick up the pace a bit."

"Why? What’s wrong?" She looked around.

"I’m not sure, perhaps nothing."

A snarl filtered through the trees.

"Perhaps something." I nudged her to speed up.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a quick movement low to the ground. The snarling increased, as did our speed. We were now at a slow jog, ducking and dodging branches. I looked over my shoulder to see three enormous gray wolves emerging from the brush. Their graceful forms began weaving in and out through the branches with deadly skill. I was unsure if they were following us or just going about their normal business. Desperately, I hoped the latter.

Thana let out a scream. I snapped back around. Two more of the giant beasts were sitting on the path before us.

"Are these friendly or unfriendly wolves?" I asked in a low voice.

"I’ve never seen wolves in this forest," she said, her voice quivering.

The wolves stood baring their teeth and growling a deep guttural warning. "I'm going to go with unfriendly."

I needed to do something fast, or we were going to be dog food. I pulled my pistol from its holster and checked the clip. It was fully loaded. "What I'm about to do is not magic," I said defensively as I quickly stepped in front of Thana. I aimed the weapon into the air and let off three quick bursts. The wolves jumped back.

I turned to see the shots had startled the wolves behind us, as well as Thana. Her eyes were so wide each iris looked like a tiny island in a sea of white.

"Sorry. I should have told you it was loud.

The enormous animals paced back and forth. For the moment we were at a stalemate, but I was sure it wouldn’t last. I wanted to use the web but didn’t want to lose Thana’s trust. I looked around for alternatives. I could attempt to shoot the wolves, but there were five of them, and only one of me. Most likely they would overtake me before I could deal a lethal shot to each.

The beasts began to advance again. I needed to use the power but I didn’t want to jeopardize my mission! Then it came to me. It was a simple plan but I thought it just might work. With Thana to my back I brought up the web. Threads appeared all around us but she was oblivious. I examined the network of crossing lines, chose the few that would do the trick, and turned them into metal twine. They formed a fence between the wolves and us, and from where we stood they were not visible.

"Get down!" I screamed behind me. Thana dropped to the ground. Two rounds roared from the pistol. The first one missed. But the second found its target and the wolf let out a yelp. After a startled moment the wolves in front began to charge but rammed headfirst into the wires and fell back dazed. I fired two more rounds. "Keep your head down!" I yelled at Thana. She dug her face deeper into the dirt. The wolves clawed at the metal lines, but I took them out one at a time, all the while circling Thana, yelling, and kicking up dirt. When I was done I quickly removed the substance from the threads and the fence vanished.

"Stay here," I said.

All the wolves were still except one. It lay on the cold ground beneath me, panting in the clutches of death. Its coat was sticky where blood had seeped out; its breath was shallow. I pointed the gun at his head and quickly put the animal out of its misery.

I shuddered to think what would have happened if this monstrous beast had gotten hold of us. All of the thoughts about the reality of this place were moot in the face of such destructive power. As I stood staring down at the dead animal a disturbing question crept into my mind. Could I die in this place?

Thana approached. "What is that thing?" She pointed at the handgun.

I looked at her blankly, then realized what she’d said. "It’s a pistol," I said defensively, lifting it up to show her the barrel.

She squinted at me.

"Look. A piece of lead is pushed through this metal tube." I pointed at the gun barrel. "It’s similar to a blowgun, only instead of using air, the driving force is a chemical reaction. When charcoal, sulfur, and potassium nitrate are mixed and ignited, they create an explosion which in turn creates pressure and pushes the lead down and out the end of the barrel."

Her expression sat fixed as if to say, "What?"

I sighed. "Trust me, it’s not magic."

She grudgingly accepted my explanation, though it was clear she didn't have a clue what I was talking about. I could have cracked open a bullet and given her a chemistry lesson, but I don't think it would have helped. Besides, we were budgeted for time.

It was clear we were being watched, and most likely by Gaza. But I had a feeling these creatures were not meant to stop us. Like the fire creatures they were probably sent as a warning or as a scare tactic. I continued to find myself fighting with the notion that I was nothing more than a puppet in an elaborately constructed game. Anger welled up in my chest. Why didn't Gaza just face me and get it over with? Why was he toying with me? I did not like being toyed with, not one bit!

I felt a squeeze on my pinkie. This time instead of looking down at the ring I crouched and peered back into the woods.

Thana turned. "What is it?"

"I don’t know," I whispered. My eyes scanned back and forth through the murky wood. The sun’s light was dim making it difficult to see but I knew he was there, somewhere.

There! I burst into a run and the crisp ground snapped under my quick footfalls. In the distance I could just make out a dark figure walking through the shadow of the trees. A branch snapped me in the face making my eye water but I didn't slow. As I neared the spot the man became clearer. He was watching my approach. I veered left desperately trying to keep him in view. Crap! He passed behind a thick tree. I reached my destination and came to a skidding halt, my chest heaving from the exertion.

He was gone.

"No!" I kicked at some leaves. "Crap!" I swung at a branch with my hand and snapped it off. "Crap! Crap! Crap!"

Thana caught up with me. "What was that all about?" She breathed heavily.

I scowled at her. "I took care of the puppets. But what I really want is the puppet master. Gaza was here pulling the strings all along." If Thana hadn’t been with me, I could have used the web to instantly transport myself to him. I looked at her and let out one last, "CRAP!"

"What?" She backed up defensively.

I brushed by her. "Never mind. I’ll get him next time. Let’s go."

Again we followed the winding path, this time, a little more watchful-- and a lot more jumpy. Every little noise startled us. "How much farther is it?" I asked. "Maybe we should stop and make camp."

Thana halted suddenly and I almost ran into her. She was looking down over a steep ledge overlooking a deep leafy crevasse. "It’s just a little farther," she said.

To our left, a magnificent waterfall spilled its crystal clear water over the edge. Directly before us stood a faded sign:

BEWARE THE WRATH OF GODS. DO NOT ENTER.

The crevasse seemed unnatural somehow, as though the ground had been pushed down in an even line. The trees below matched the trees on the upper level, like they had once stood side by side. I looked down over the edge. "What is this place?"

"This is the only thing Humphrey ever used the power for. He could not live among us because his eyes gave him away, and since my people wouldn’t leave him alone, he created this place. The only way to get down there is to use this pulley system."

Just off the edge of the cliff a metal weight with a red cushion upon it hung in mid air. A rope ran from the center of the weight to a pulley hanging from a tree above, across to a second pulley, then down into a hole in the ground.

Thana explained. "This is a balance system. Inside the walls of this cliff are pipes that funnel water from the river. The water is used to fill the counterbalance. See this hole?" She pointed to where the rope entered the ground. "This tunnel reaches down to the bottom of the cliff. At the end of this rope is the counterbalance to that seat." She pointed at the red cushion.

I looked at the tiny cushion floating in stark contrast to the large expanse of the crater, and it dawned on me, that she had used the word "seat." My jaw dropped. "I have to sit on that?"

"Yes, and see that lever down there?" She pointed to a rusty iron bar protruding from the cliff face. "You’ll need to pull that up to empty the water from the counterbalance below. When you start to drop, push the level back down." She chuckled. "Otherwise it will be a very fast ride. Oh! And when you get to the bottom you’ll find another lever. This is very important. You must pull that lever down for ten seconds before getting off the seat."

Again I peered downward. It was quite a drop, a couple hundred feet anyway. I looked up and opened my mouth to refuse, but then remembered my experience with Kitaya. If I were to fall, I could always fly. "--So, when I get to the bottom-- I need to pull the lever, down?"

"Yes down, for ten seconds."

"And what does that do?"

"When the counterbalance gets to the top it will be filled with water. When you get off you will be taking your hundred and eighty-some-odd pounds with you. The lever will empty the water from the counterbalance to even out the weights."

"So the seat doesn’t come shooting back up. Right. I understand."

"Good. Are you ready?"

I looked up at the pulley in the tree. "Are you sure it still works?"

"No."

I shot her a look.

She laughed. "It’s fine. Humphrey always keeps his things in good working order."

I looked again at the little red seat. "Alright. Here goes nothing." I reached out and grabbed the rope. It was rough in my hand and burned slightly as I drew the seat toward me. Carefully I placed a leg over, and soon was swinging out over the gulf below. Fear took me immediately. The height was dizzying. Whether this world was a figment of my imagination or not made no difference, vertigo was still a very real phenomenon.

"Now pull the lever."

"I don’t want to," I said, clinging to the rope.

"Some god you are." She laughed, reached down, and pulled up on the lever. Within seconds I was plummeting to my death. I could only hope she would remember to push the lever back down.

I seemed to fall for an awfully long time. It was much farther than I’d expected. But eventually the ground became visible, then more defined, then branches rushed by me until I touched down with a thud.

I sat for moment. "Someone has to talk to Humphrey about this death trap!" I muttered to myself. "I don’t care what anybody says I will not be returning this way."

In front of me on the face of the rock was the lever. Clearly marked above and below were the words, FULL and EMPTY. I pulled it down and counted to ten. Carefully I dismounted the contraption and stepped back. It rose up slowly and disappeared into the branches overhead. I scanned my surroundings and found nothing out of the ordinary. Many varieties of brilliant flowers blanketed the landscape. Their aroma was sweet. Humphrey's hand no doubt. The river flowed by not far from the site of the pulley system so I perched on a rock and stared off into the falling water. Such power and beauty. The waterfall’s song was medicine to my tired soul. Its thunderous sound echoed off the cliff walls as it weaved its way down into the deeper forest to my right. I sat taking in the sights and listening to the playful chatter of the birds. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. For a brief moment I felt at ease, and the sensation was foreign to me. I’d had so few opportunities to relax in this strange world.

It wasn’t long before Thana touched down with a thump. She held tight to the rope as she dismounted, then scooped up a metal hook that was buried under some leaves and secured the weight so it would not rise back up. "I hope you enjoyed your ride." She smiled.

"More than words can say." I smirked.

She chuckled and headed down the path, I hopped off the rock and followed. We passed over a wooden bridge and into a clearing. To our right the river poured into a lake, and on the lake’s edge was a log home. As we approached I could see a man out front chopping wood. He was an old fellow in a red flannel shirt and green work pants. A long white beard dangled before him. Each swing of the ax was powerful and accurate; he was definitely not a frail man. Suddenly, seemingly unprovoked, he began jumping about and flailing his arms in the air with quick jarring motions, back and forth, like a madman. "Go away!" he yelled. "GO away!" Soon his wild motions brought him to the ground with a crash, then all we could see were the old man’s arms and legs stabbing up into the air from the thick grass. "Leave me in peace!" he yelled out. "Go AWAY!"

For a moment I thought he was hallucinating, but then I spotted the object of his misery. It was a tiny bird, a humming bird. It hovered over his flailing body for a moment then turned and shot off across the lake. I guess the old man was too much of a challenge for the little creature.

"Humphrey?" I asked.

"Humphrey," she stated.

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CHAPTER 7

WHISPERS FROM THE VOID

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As soon as I was sure Thana was asleep I brought up the web. Slowly and quietly I walked around the outskirts of our encampment, setting a trip wire a few inches off the ground; in case there was trouble while I was gone. The other end I attached to my wrist. I didn’t go far, just far enough to be out of sight in case she awoke. It wouldn't look good if she caught me waving my hands around and mumbling to myself.

I settled in and crossed my legs. The web glowed lightly against the night as I reached out and plucked a strand. With my mind I stretched the thread until the moving area was once again visible. Black translucent letters flowed by like blood in a vein. I studied the odd script. It was indeed what I had thought, modified machine code. Innately I understood it. mmc was an advanced computer language specifically designed for scientific research. But why would such a code be present in these threads? It didn’t make sense. If this was a computer generated environment, it was like nothing I had ever seen. It was far too real.

I examined the code for several hours trying to figure out the purpose of the programming. If I focused I could make the text move by faster. Each time I reached the end, there was a space, then the code started over from the beginning. I could string the pieces together easily but it was an enormous program and each time I read it, it grew. It was continually growing and adapting, as if it were alive.

Then suddenly, I realized something. It was acting like the cognosphere! It was storing data, keeping track of variables, watching, and learning. This program controlled the flow of information about this world. Every detail was on record. Every action was being observed and reactions were being applied.

If I were to throw a ball the program would figure out how far the ball would fly, its speed and velocity, and what laws of nature would have to be applied to it. The program would regulate the ball’s response to my application and the cognosphere would store the results so the next person going by would find the ball lying on the ground. Every person on this planet, the Ten included, were continually writing the program. And it was Gaza who had designed the program. I looked up.

Gaza isn’t a god! He’s a programmer!

I stood. My legs were cramping from sitting too long. My mind was on fire weeding through the possibilities of this new information. How much did Gaza know? Was he responsible for bringing me here? Were the people of this world computer simulations, or were they real? Where did the woman and child fit into it? What type of environment was this that the computer could keep track of it? It wasn’t virtual reality, at least not like any I was aware of. It was far beyond any technology I’d ever seen. Somehow I felt sure of this.

I sat back down and quickly started a search for my own essence. If I could find myself in the program, then perhaps Gaza could find me too. This made me uneasy. As I searched, a character on the page caught my attention. It represented a sub-directory and was classified as ‘created items’. Perhaps I could find the cup of tea I had created at Kitaya’s.

I opened the directory into a thread of its own and the contents scrolled before me. It contained everything that had ever been created from the beginning of Vrin to the present time. Unbelievable! Laid out before me was creation itself!

Each item had a sub-directory, containing every detail, right down to its smell. I could change anything in Vrin without even being present with it. I shuddered. With a thought I could erase any of the items that lay before me. It was too much to comprehend.

I continued looking for my essence in the program but after an exhaustive search I gave up; the program was immense, with far too many sub-directories. It would take a lifetime to follow all the paths. This realization brought me comfort for it would be a monumental task, even for its creator, to track anything in a program this vast.

My mind was filled to capacity and I was about to quit for the night-- when something caught my eye. A peculiar entry moved up the thread. A new line. Someone must have just added it. I examined it closely. It was nothing like the other entries-- It was complete gibberish. I studied it for a moment then suddenly realized, it wasn’t gibberish! It was backwards! I reversed the line and decoded the statement. Much to my astonishment, it wasn’t a program line at all but a message. It read, "Test 4:12 pm: Robert, can you see this?"

I stared at it. Should I try to answer? Maybe the sender would be able to shed some light on things. The message included the time. I recognized the format, from the world just on the other side of my memory. Perhaps if I could make contact I could find some answers.

I focused my concentration on the strand. Just as I could apply textures to threaded structures I was sure I could apply text to the program. Sure enough it responded. On the thread before me lay my words in: "Yes. I see it."

I sat, staring at my words, wondering if the sender would see the reply, and wondering if I even wanted the answers to my questions. The text continued to scroll by for what seemed an eternity and I continued to watch. Every time it started a new loop I found the original message and decoded it. Each time I was disappointed. Until...

A buzz began emanating from one of the threads. I watched with curiosity as it twitched and hummed. Periodically the noise would fade and I could hear a faint voice mixed in with the chaotic signal. Someone was trying to communicate but the thread wasn’t amplifying the sound properly. I wasn’t sure if this would help but I clamped the thread on either end and pulled it taut. As I suspected the act of tightening caused the buzzing to fade and the voice became clearer. It was a masculine voice. "Marker test twenty-eight. Can you hear this?" Pause. "Marker test twenty-nine. Can you hear this?" Another pause.

I smiled. The owner of the voice didn’t realize he had gotten through.

"Marker test thirty. Can you hear this?"

"Yes," I responded. This was no time to play games.

"Oh my God! Robert! You did it! Hold on! Dr. Solomon is on his way."

"Who am I, and what is this place?"

"I’m sorry. I’m not authorized to give you any information. Dr. Solomon will be here any second." He sounded nervous.

"Well can you at least tell me who you are?"

"Although I don’t see how it can hurt I have to follow protocol. I’m very sorry."

I was getting annoyed.

He’ll be here in a minute. Are you in any pain or discomfort?"

"No."

"Are you in any danger?"

"Not at the moment."

"Then we are doing just fine."

"Right-- I guess that depends on your interpretation of just fine."

"Here he is!"

There was a short silence, then another man began to speak. "Hello, Robert. Remember me?" His voice sounded familiar.

"My memory is a little scattered but I think I recognize your voice, although I don’t remember from where."

"That’s okay. That’s a response we expected."

"Where am I?"

"Let’s take this one step at a time, Robert. Where do you think you are?"

 Great. I wanted answers not more questions! But I bit my tongue. If I was going to get anywhere I would need to cooperate. I took a breath. "Well, I’m on the planet Vrin. From what I can tell it is the twenty-first century but these people never moved beyond the middle ages."

"Is the experience believable?"

"Yes for the most part, but I’ve noticed discrepancies."

"Can you describe them?"

"Well, everything, almost everything, is far too perfect but there is a lack of detail in some of the natural effects."

"A lack of detail? Such as?"

"Such as particles in a sun beam that don’t move, and the total lack of insects. And when I first got here there was a weird color problem but it has either corrected itself or I’ve gotten use to it."

"That is a very interesting analysis."

"Now let me ask a question. Where am I?"

There was an awkward pause. Then, "--I’m not sure you want to know that yet."

"Try me."

"This is a very delicate matter. We should approach it with caution."

"Well we need to do it quickly because I don’t know how long this world is going to be here."

"What?"

A tinge of fear and adrenaline shot through me. Should I have said that? What if this was Gaza? --No, it couldn’t be, these men were definitely surprised I had gotten through. Still...

"Robert?"

I threw caution to the wind. "There is a madman here and he says he's going to destroy Vrin."

"My God! Why?" The man sounded genuinely alarmed.

"I’m not certain but from what I know of him, he can do it."

"Are you doing anything to stop him?"

"I’m afraid I can’t share that information with you." If there was any chance this was Gaza I didn’t want to put my friends in danger.

"I understand." He paused.

The pause lasted too long for my comfort. "Hello?"

"I’m sorry, Robert. My assistant was asking a question. We were discussing who that person could be."

"So you are aware of the others?"

"Yes. There are ten of you."

"Who are we and why are we here?"

Again there was a long pause.

I began to lose my patience. "If you don’t tell me who I am and why I’m here right now I'm going to cancel this communication!"

It was a bluff and he called it. "You don’t want to do that, Robert. You need answers as much as we do and you know deep in your heart that I am your friend. I know you are confused and believe me I am sensitive to that. But there is too much at stake to go blindly ahead. I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you half of what you've asked for. Perhaps it will help you to remember. Your name is Dr. Robert Helm. You are a scientist and a programmer. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you where you are or why you’re there just yet. We don’t know what that information would do to your psyche. We have a psychiatrist here and we are consulting..."

"Jason?" That was Thana’s voice.

"Gotta go."

"Robert, we need… "

The web vanished and I stepped out of the bushes. Thana was standing in the campsite with her back to me.

"Over here!" I called.

"Where did you go?" She sounded concerned.

"I just stepped into the bushes to... well, you know." I gave a crooked smile.

"Next time could you let me know?"

"You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you." I feigned a stretch. "Well, it looks like the sun is coming up. Think we should get started right away?"

"Yes. I think we’d better."

It was nice we were actually talking now but as we chatted my mind kept wandering back to the conversation in the web. Who could I trust? Everywhere I turned, there seemed to be a conspiracy.

I was beginning to feel like Rath.

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