A Paradox in Retrograde (24 page)

Despite the dramatic visuals which dazzled their imaginations
there was still some convincing to do, especially among those he
needed the most. These were those technicians and scientists who
would likely assist in the construction of such a weapon. He
spoke now to them directly, "I know there are those among you
who would require more tangible evidence. For you then I ask,
what could be more tangible than hard numbers?" He requested a
slate board be brought up onto the stage. After a few quiet moments one was rolled onto the stage so that he might express in
numbers the nature of this weapon. With a thin bar of chalk he
crouched before the board and began to illustrate his meaning in a
strange numerical language few understood. Letters and symbols
too were drawn. He commented that these were to represent the
vast forces and pressures he was describing. Making short work
of the problem soon the numbers were all but eliminated from the
equation. He said that it was then that the forces canceled each
other out. He was done and scribbled in white chalk was the formula that supposedly explained it all. Professors Ernst from the
university was there and though he did not recognize the symbols
Ananda had used, he understood what it meant. He put up his
hand to get Ananda's attention and was recognized."Do you have
something to add professor?" All heads turned towards him as he
responded. "Yes Ananda, thank you for allowing me to put my
two cents in. I am Max Ernst. I am a professor of Mathematics at
the university and I must tell you I have seen suchnumerical expressions before. These as you must now agree can however be
only theoretical, for no means to such an end exits in all of Baldur."

The professor was shocked to hear Ananda agree with his evaluation. "You are quite right. You must remember that the state of
your technology is woefully inadequate to the task. However we
have in our possession technology of Nibaru that far exceeds the
capabilities of your own. To facilitate the energylevels needed
for the type of unrestrained reaction we are driving at requires
the use of that technology, but using an entirely different approach."

The Professor again spoke, "Even with this alien technology we
lack the ability attain the required energies. What methods do
you propose? You must have had something in mind before you
sat us down."

"You are perceptive professor. Though it has not been entirely
worked out there is precedence to this theory. From the historical record there are stories of such weapons. That footage to
which you were made witness to was no work of art. It was a
photo animation of a real event. And as the stories go there are
options that have succeeded in the past that may again bear fruit.
One conceivable method entails a three staged reaction in which
the resulting energy release is ramped up with each successive
stage. In such a scenario Firstly an ordinary high energy chemical explosion is used to ignite a chain reaction in a fissionable
material such as uranium. By driving a shaped charge into a
densely packed core of uranium an atom can be split into two
lighter elements. The corresponding reaction releases a tremendous amount of energy perhaps a hundred fold more than was
needed to create it. By creating an environment where all this
energy can be brought to bear, a third even greater reaction in
which hydrogen plasma is fused to make helium, takes place.
When all the bonds that form the basis of the elements are broken down the atoms fuse in a great maelstrom of fundamental
energy. Mater is quite literally turned directly into energy."

Somehow Landaus and Xora had not followed in step as the others had. By the time Ananda had finished speaking, among those
there in the room there was a sense of wide eyed enthusiasm that
seemed out of step with their situation. Speaking to Xora Landaus said, "Lady Xora doesn't something about this seem a bit
odd to you? Only moments ago these people here were no more
than a strife filled rabble. Now they move like a well-honed
blade, moving of one accord."

"Yes it is odd Landaus, but there is more to this story that you
don't yet know. Come with me Landaus there is something you
need to see."

Though few of the men and woman who had stood there listening
could easily grasp these concepts, there were enough of them that
they might take a shot at it. In the days that followed those best
able to understand the concepts seemed to gravitate toward those
tasks more suited to their abilities. This may havebeen perhaps
due to very subtle suggestion laid out by Ananda. There was
much work to be done however Ananda was correct inthat there
was no need to manufacture these devices from scratch for these
parts stolen from the scout ships would need merelyto be augmented.

For several hours the work inside the once peaceful hall had
been proceeding at a hectic pace. While most were otherwise
fixated toward their tasks, Ibsen walked about virtually unnoticed. He watched as people and machinery jostled for position
within the repurposed boundaries of a space not designed for
such use. Despite this apparent chaos amongst these people toiling there within the space he sensed an unexpected calmness
that seemed quite out of character. These usually demonstrative
faces as they passed him by seemed emotionless, almost blank
in expression. He was beginning to feel as if he were alone in a
crowd of strangers. He was uncomfortable among them and desperately wanted no parts of it. However, drawn there he was
none the less. While the adults had focused their attentions to
their assigned tasks, his own were drawn inexplicably elsewhere. To this end it was then by no small measure helpful that
Ibsen, unlike those around him seemed to possess some kind of
immunity to Ananda's unnatural gifts of persuasion. Though he
thought that he may be in fact deluding himself, he was content to
be again alone with his own fixations. He would strive therefore
to not allow himself to be as easily captivated as the others seemingly were.

Left to his own devices then he would attend now to his precious
if forgotten artifact. For him the object still held an unexplainable
fascination. Although it seemed illogical he somehow sensed that
the object was waiting for someone or something. This feeling
was so strong that he was sure of it. Early on after its discovery,
upon the island there had been much fascination in this strange
object. However despite all the fruitless attempts by the finest
minds on Baldur to release its secrets, with each passing day its
mystery grew deeper. Even Ananda himself had failed to gain
access into its secret workings. But not long after his arrival interest in this object was soon eclipsed by the sudden and mysterious
appearance of this stranger among them. The object having been
so abandoned would now play into Ibsen’s favor. For within it he
pondered there must contain a far greater mystery. If he could be
alone with it he knew he would somehow get to the bottom of it.

Though he probably had no need to disguise his whereabouts he
waited until the stairway vestibule was unattended. Looking
around he saw that there was no one in sight. Sensing that his
timing was right he made a quick dash up the stairs. Climbing out
from the drafty stairwell, he came to the top of the landing. There
he found a most unusual sight. Before him now was an image,
familiar yet oddly different. Though it looked real enough it held
the strange quality and feel of a dream. There the space within
the hall was a kind of mirror image of the one he had known and
it was possessed of a quietude he had never known, like that of
death. Despite his young age he rightly concluded that he had
entered another reality. “What is this place?" he asked aloud.
Like his father had taught him he kept his fear in check. Undaunted he carefully stepped through the threshold into another
world perhaps related yet different. He wandered on for a few
moments until he came upon the object of his obsession. There in
an out of the way alcove, he saw his unguarded possession safely
stowed. For a moment he observed the object now lying on its
side propped slightly up off the floor. There it seemed to glow
with a diffused internal light. From its strange metallic surface a
dull sheen seemed to unnaturally reflect back morelight than was
shone on to it. He moved closer and as he did this ethereal light
seemed to respond by glowing more intensely with each step
closer that he moved. Soon he was on top of it. Placing his
hands upon its metallic skin, from within it he immediately
sensed a shuddering movement. Without warning he was engulfed in a brilliant expanding pulse of energy emanating from
the object. This energy had seemingly past straight through his
body without leaving any observable mark or sign of injury. The
walls around him were painted now in a dazzling light. In an
instant all was quiet and colors of the world around him subtly
shifted toward the blue end of the spectrum. Ibsen in shock
turned and looked around. As if he had gently slipped through
another crack in time, into some bizarre limbo. Other than those
made by him the world was devoid of sound and movement.
Swiftly he ran down the stairs toward the auditorium. As he
moved, his feet as they hit the ground made no sound. A moment later he found those same men he had earlier seen. All
work had come to a sudden stop. He looked again and saw all
those there including his father frozen, immovable where they
had stood. He called out to them, and his calls went unheard and
unanswered. Suddenly he heard someone speaking to him within his thoughts, in a voice as clear as if he had heard it with his
own ears. "Ibsen my son, do not be afraid. There is important
work for you." He looked around however he saw no one. He
had heard of how men who had lost their minds often heard
voices. "Surely I am too young to have lost my senses?" he
asked out loud. He somehow knew this was real. Into the silence
he cried out, "Who are you?"

After a moment there appeared within as if emanating from midair, a vaporous blue haze. Before his eyes the mist formed from
a jumble of pixels into a facsimile of a human form and began to
appear as if to speak. The voice again filled his mind, "I am
Amida; I have come as I always have to restrain my brother.
The cycle again is complete and again it is my brother's intention to break it."

This was quite a bit for one so small to understand. And in a
plaintive voice Ibsen responded, "But I am only a child. How
has this come to me? My father is the Colonel of the royal guard
surely he is the one you want."
The ball of light again spoke; "It was not I who sought you out.

It was you who sensed my presence and it is you who shall be my
voice. Do not worry no harm shall come to you by my hand. You
may of course refuse but then I may not be able to help save your
world. It was recorded that on a future day a wave of destruction
the likes of which never before seen shall descend upon the Earth,
and an age of Darkness shall again fall."

It was now plain to the spirit that this boy upon whose face held
an expression of despair and confusion was ill prepared for such a
role. Observing these expressions, in an attempt to comfort him,
the spirit again spoke. "Do not despair young Ibsen. You are not
alone. Even now I have begun to make preparations. For if the
day is ours to win, we shall have forced that destiny off yet a little
while longer perhaps indefinitely. In the meantime, I would ask
you to go and await my return to the crystal room. Do you know
how to find it? Your father and Lady Xora will be there too.
There is much he can help explain to you. The voice he heard
rang clear and true, and its message gave him solace. Young Ibsen now put at ease nodded his head agreeably. Though he little
understood what he was agreeing to, he somehow knew he was
meant to follow him. The spirit recognized this and responded by
ordering him away. "Now run along, I will find you there shortly." He was glad that he had somehow found the right words and
they had done the trick. The shroud of light that held the boy in
limbo was lifted and the face of the world was again as he had
known it. As if he had never moved Ibsen had returned to the spot
where the vision had begun. His face now shining with a renewed
purpose, he realized that he was safe and free. So there to the
temple he would obediently run. There his father would be and all
sense would then be made of it.

Passing effortlessly through the stone floor the ball of light descended as if the barrier did not exist. Within the darkened cell
the aura of the hovering spirit found itself floating above the unlucky prince. He looked down with pity onto the alien child held
there within. Faintly the sound of his voice filled the chamber,
"To stay here, he would surely die. You shall be rescued." The
captive child though cold and frightened had yet succumbed to
his exhaustion. Though on the floor of his cell, he lay asleep his
spirit was yet unbroken. Within the veil of sleep his dreams came
easily. In this twilight trance he ran as his ancestors did, through
the midst of a hunt. With a makeshift spear in hand he bounded
through the primeval forest not unlike the prey he chased. He
was gaining ground on the beast by sheer force of will. The
chase however was not for the weak. He was running so fast he
felt as if the cage of his chest would burst. His heart beat wildly,
growing more and more erratic the nearer he drew to his prey. It
was just then that he became conscious to the dream. For despite
all of the heavy breathing, there was no prey and he was still
confined to his wretched cell. Though he was most definitely
alone, his senses told him otherwise. He rose up as best as he
could into a defensive stance. It was just then that a voice spoke
directly to his mind without a sound being uttered. Speaking in a
deep velvet tone, the voice said, "young one, do not be afraid. I
have come to help you. There are others here."