The Voyages of the Penelope and the Yydryl

* ~ * More Dead Than Alive * ~ *

‘But...‘ Silo mumbled wiping a lily colored napkin across her mouth, ‘You haven’t told me who you are.’ Smiling she dug her fork under another wedge of cake transferring it to her plate. This one had raspberry filling slathered between it’s seven layers the chocolate dark and bitter causing the back of her mouth to cringe painfully and squirt saliva. It must be the raspberries. Silo remembered raspberries. Or at least she thought she did.

‘Ohhhh I’m a friend of your sons. A good friend,‘ Margo smiled, ‘Would you like another piece of cake or perhaps another Yoohoo?’ Margo slid a second milky chocolate drink beaded with sweat across the eating counter at CindyMars’s cabin. Perched on the bar stool on it’s opposite side Silo smiled accepting the drink.


‘My son?’ Silo nearly choked around another huge bite of cake and dismissing the notion continued waving her fork in the air forgetting the notion of a ‘son’ even before it settled in, ‘I was asking you do you know CindyMars? I mean this is her cabin and I don’t remember...’ Silo frowned, the homey smell of fresh baked chocolate and berries went moldy the smell replaced with something stinky coming from outside the cabin.

‘Oh, I think we all know CindyMars in our...own way. I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.’ Margo smile dropped and slid down her chin. ‘What I’d be worrying about is you finishing your cake before he gets here.’ Margo’s eyes followed her chin spilling down her beautiful face that melt like wax dripping down a flesh colored candle.

‘Who’s he?’ Silo asked dropping her fork leaving a thin brown snake to slither it’s way across CindyMars prized granite counter.

‘Does it matttttterrrrrr.’ Margo’s head folded in on itself disappearing into her shoulders then falling out of sight below the breakfast nook. Silo watched as the plate in her hand clattered to the floor. Scattered crumbs grew wings to fly in hoards over the messy puddle where Margo had been.

‘Where is he!’ A voice roared from outside the cabin.

Shivering against a raging fever, fighting indescribable pain Silo’s eyes jittered back and forth behind her eyes. Only the tips of her fingers moved tapping a silent tattoo within the thick wolf hide of the fur covering her from head to toe.

‘Carpet...‘ Silo moaned, just as the Giant ripped the roof off the hut to peer in.

................~The Night Brings It's Own Ghosts~....................

Around two hundred years ago, the residents of Bisley Deeps agreed that when the
meagre light that made it's way into the cavern -lowered, then night had come to their
town. Bisley Deeps now enjoyed a late evening.



However, in a small hut on the cave wall, Tibbs wasn't enjoying his reading. The literature
was far-from text that made one smile.

"Come back to bed..." Mucklebones whispered "...yer words will keep until the morrow"
her voice was sleep-clogged and sultry, yet the frowning Vithian didn't look up from the
old book on his lap.

"He was attempting to use science and magic..." Tibbs muttered to himself and turned
another page "...He was trying to get back to another time" The lantern flickered and
caused his shadow to shimmy on the wall nearby.

Victor Kershner was afraid of dying, that was certain. Tibbs had read the hand-written
scrawl in the page margins and the bald-headed thug believed he could outwit The Grim
Reaper by going back to 20th-century Earth.

There were drawings and old photographs among the damaged books, bloodstains and
flakes of skin lay between the pages and the tired Vithian wondered what Boy In A Dress
had actually done -whilst killing the murderer of his Creator.



But the images on the cracking parchment called to Tibb's past, he'd seen some of the
illustrations before.
"The Ark of The Covenant...?" Muckles whispered at her man's ear, she had rose and
without being aware of her light footfalls, the naked Crone had not been noticed by Tibbs
and a slight-twitch of his shoulders showed that he was lost among the tome's words.
"Aye... I mean yes, Kershner looked to any item of power to obtain his goal" he mumbled
and turned another page.

The object of great veneration from ancient times on Earth and Tellick of Wolf 359, the
container that was said to hold the Word of God. Tibbs sighed as he recalled the scriptures
that indicated other artifacts that resided in the ornate box.

Aaron's Rod... the staff that could supposedly divide seas and oceans, an old man's crutch
that could lay waste to armies and ravish fertile lands. The Vithian's eyebrows lowered as
he tracked the words on the page.

He'd seen it, he'd actually handled it once and though many poets had rolled their skills in
describing the fabled stave, not one of them had mentioned that it was actually a spear.
The Crime-Boss was searching for the Ark, he knew that The Shadow Diamond could rival
the Rod's power and he knew that with both, he could definitely rule the stars.

Victor was certainly an industrious man -Tibbs thought and scratched his beard nervously.
The illustration showed a penitent man kneeling infront of the Ark with a small flask beside
him. The Jar of Manna -so some would say.



"What is that?" Mucklebones asked as she leaned on the narrow shoulders of Tibbs, large
oily-eyes scanned the gothic-like text and pencilled-renderings. Tibbs wanted to reach for
Mucklebones and hold her close, he had missed her during her travels with the late-Dag
and the others.

"In olden days, they said that a Jeroboam of 'magical' Manna was placed alongside the
stone tablets inscribed with the Word of God and Aaron's Rod..." Tibbs said and cleared
his throat. "...The sages of the time had no idea what Dark Matter was and some of us
decided to allow the substance to be left on the back-water planet. We believed it was
a safe place"

Muckles knew by the tone of her man's voice that he wasn't so-sure of the plan and it
seemed that now, he knew it was a foolish idea.



The Timeliner called the hour in the streets below and this was accompanied with another
deep sigh from Tibbs. "It's getting late" he whispered and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
The ancient pair settled down in the cramped-bed and lay in the dark with their thoughts.
Aaron's Rod... the legendary staff, the scared branch taken from the Tree of Knowledge
and once fitted with a spearhead to kill a man who wanted peace.

Tibbs watched fleeting images from his memories of a crucifixion, a small man with a
clipped-moustache and a swastika screaming for the fabled Spear of Longinus and a prayer
-mumbling priest called Joseph on his knees scooping soil around a wind-wobbling sapling.

The Vithian smiled to himself in the shadows and wondered if the man known as Kershner
had ever realised that Aaron's Rod was never in the Ark of The Covenant, the wisemen had
known better.
It resided in Avalon, at the foot of The Tor and enjoyed enjoyed the rainy-days of olde
England... it had been forgotten.

Midnight swept over the town of Bisley Deeps and the old man with so-many secrets felt
the soft touch of his Mucklebones. "Are you really tired?" she asked beguilingly.

..........................~Echoes Of The Past~............................

"BIAD...? Are you down there?" Professor Charles Shaw called into the copper tank, his
voice sounded like he was trapped in a baked-bean tin. Boy In A Dress removed the face
-plate and looked up at the one he knew as his Father.



The balding man who always worried that he wouldn't be there to protect the naive-young
hermaphrodite smiled down at the strange features wrapped in dripping-black hair.
"You know that's brine you're standing in, don't you?" Shaw said pleasantly and glanced at
his wristwatch, BIAD had been in there -over five hours.

"Yes Sir..." BIAD replied with a gasp "...they wanted to see what would happen if they
passed electricity through the stuff" Tubes and wires hung from the walls of the tank and
disappeared under BIAD's wet dress.

Charles looked over to where Ludwig Poppel and Dr. Maus watched with wary-eyes, the pair
held clipboards and were accompanied by a hulking machine with blinking lights.
"THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS..." Shaw barked and stood up, "...What on earth would this produce?
he growled as he closed on the two German scientists.

BIAD peeked over the rim of the experimental-bath and watched his Creator set-about
the two men that had tried-and-failed to fry him.


Ten minutes later, Charles Shaw and the grinning lab-rat sat in the Los Alamos Canteen,
BIAD tucked in to a big bowl of chocolate ice-cream and the Professor watched over a
steaming-cup of coffee.

"They had no right, BIAD... they had no right to do that to you" the older-man growled and
gently patted BIAD's red-nailed hand on the table. Dark-brown marks smeared the smiling
-lips as his weird 'son' looked up from his enjoyable task.



"It didn't really hurt, Sir..." BIAD said softly and offered chocolate-stained teeth to show his
emotions. "...They said it was something to do with a thing called Dugway?" he added in a
way of a query.

The two men sat quietly and focused on the coffee and ice-cream, it was only when Jenkins
sauntered over with a huge-wedge of chocolate cake, did they speak again.

"Listen -my two-fine chums..." the Englishman chirped with his 'over-the-top' prim-and
-proper Limey-speak "...Ah've just been told that I'll be moved to Dugway with you's-two"
and moved a hand to indicate if he could sit with them.

Boy In A Dress liked Jenkins, Professor Shaw knew that the strange Janitor had lately been
spending time around the small cabin that BIAD slept in and Shaw guessed that a rapport
had been struck-up.

"That's great, that's... 'dandy'" BIAD said with a chocolate-clown smile and the round-faced
man who never seemed to wear anything but bib-and-braces, nearly choked on a mouthful
of his sponge-fancy.

"You're becoming a Limey!" Jenkins mumbled and allowed a small spray of crumbs to
escape as he spoke. Charles Shaw looked on as the pair giggled over the struggling
mastications and knew that it would be a good-thing if Jenkins accompanied them to The
Dugway Proving Grounds.



His only worry was this new-guy on the scene, a dark entity called General Ramey.

* ~ * Giant Times * ~ *

‘Where is he...’ The ground shook sending the meager contents of the hut tumbling to the ground sending great cracks up it’s walls, spiking through it’s mud and straw foundation. The hot moist air of the Giant’s breath blew like a gale through the hole in the thatch, through window and door and the piece of ceiling he‘d ripped aside. It was doubtful with her broken nose and jaw Silo could smell the sickening stench of his breath, or the smoke rising up from an overturned oil lamp. Pain and injury clouded all else.

The Giant dipped his face into the hut snuffling deeply sneezing once then twice over wisps of acrid smoke blasting another fur cover off the cot where Silo lay.

‘Where is he!’ Another blast of hot air sent the next layer of covers sliding from around her shoulders laving her skin with warmth. Silo welcomed the freedom from the tight cocoon she’d been wrapped. Her lips moved to thank whoever freed her but she couldn’t talk. She tried, but no words whispered through her broken teeth or from a windpipe still healing after being nearly crushed.

Blowing away the smoke stinging his eyes the Giant inadvertently fanned the fire into life, it sprang up the thatched wall burning bright. But it wasn’t the fire that caught his attention. Cocking his head the Giant smelled something subtle and sweet just under the blaze. He smelled something...familiar. Something that sparked a tiny fire in his tiny brain that grew just as bright as the fire consuming the hut.

Using a finger fat and round as a yule log the Big One poked at the thing on the cot then jumped and cracked his head on an overhanging tree branch when the tiny lump still half ensconced in wolf fur gave a strangled moan. Rubbing the knot on his crown the Giant sat back on his haunch wondering what to do next. His sister had told him to find the Neno. Travel the length and breadth of the world. Live to find, the Neno. Then, bring him back to her alive and unhurt. But in all his years of searching the Giant had never been even a whiff as close to fulfilling his task - until now. No, it wasn’t the Neno lying in the stale flaming hut, but whoever it was was the next best thing. The thought split the Giants mouth into a wide hideous smile.

A low growl ominous and threatening brought the Giant around. Gaining his feet the Big One faced a loan silver wolf brandishing a long sharp weapon in the small clearing before the burning hut. It was a man wolf. The worst kind thought the Giant who frowned and shook his grizzled chin. The man-wolf never understood.

Then he was all speeding light striking faster than his size should have allowed. That’s what the clan would say later, that he struck like lightening. In less than a blink of his eye the Giant tore a limb from the tree, the same tree where he’d hit his head, swung the branch in a wide arch decapitating the man-wolf with a blow so sudden it sent the silver wolf skull flying free as the man-wolf’s head toppled to the ground to spin in a slow lazy circle. The man-wolf’s spear barely dipped. The headless body stood for a moment it’s lifeblood spraying as high as the Giants chest raining down thick and red. Only once it’s skin had bled gray and lifeless did the headless body finally drop to it’s knees and fall backwards to lay still.

The threat dispatched the Giant focused again on his prize now caught in a ring of fire the hut fully engulfed.

‘I take you now. Not safe here.’ The Giant reasoned aloud.

A sad sweet mourning of wolves followed the Giant into the night as he tucked Silo - cot and all - into the crook of his arm and started off in a gentle lope towards Roma and his Sister Venus.

Later the clansmen would tell Argus his brother died a Hero attempting to save the girl Silo from the Giant - and a hut caught in a blazing inferno. They’d sing songs of Quiet’s valor praising him, heralding him as a great Hero who faced the Giant even after it had eaten the crazy man Adam. They’d tell Argus a lot of things spinning their mighty tales. But no one. No one would tell Argus why his brother Quiet went out to face the Giant - alone.

* ~ * We can’t go back * ~ *

‘Should we tell Argus?’ Moriah spoke to Flint but couldn’t take her eyes off the glow shimmering like a bright red star from down below in the deepest cleave of the valley. The cry of wolves lilted up the hills making her throat close over emotion.

‘You can try but it wont do ya any good. He’s dead drunk.’ Flint snorted, ’he’ll be no help until morning.’ If Flint knew anything he knew drunks. He also knew Argus probably wouldn’t stir until well after noon but didn‘t want to worry Moriah any more than she was already worried.

‘Come on let’s get something to eat.‘ Flint was starved. Taking Moriah’s hand he tried to pull her away from the lip of the rocky shelf that shot out over the low country. Moriah didn’t budge.

‘Do you think that’s them burning?’ Moriah nodded in the direction of the fire far below.

‘Yeah.’ Flint hung his head, his eyes stung. He didn’t want to think about what was going on down below.

‘Do you think whatever that gross stink was...did that?’ Moriah blinked from staring so hard into the distance.

‘Yeah.’ Flint choked wishing again the others were with them.

‘Do you think...’ Moriah started then stopped and shrieked. ‘Flint! Oh God! What’s that!’ Far below she could just make out a huge form crossing in front of the burning hut, then back again. Something gigantic. Something man like - and more than a man.

‘Moriah, you idjit get back! That thing might see us!’ Flint, truly afraid now started to shake. He’d dreamed of dragons, and beasties and...Giants. But to see one, smell one for real? That was a whole other story.

‘We can’t just stand here! We have to go help!’ Moriah all but stumbled off the edge of the cliff.

‘Have you lost yer mind? We can’t go after that alone’ Flint snatched at her hand with both of his own tugging her frantically.

‘You don’t know that!‘ Moriah snarled. Yanked onto his knees when she dug in her heels Flint hit the sharp stony ground blinking furiously. Looking up he watched the clouds move away from the face of the moon bathing Moriah in pure white light. His mouth opened and hung there. Moriah shone.


‘Listen to me boy,‘ The girl seemed to grow before his eyes, ‘We have to help, and we can help. We can follow whatever that thing is while leaving markers for my sister and Argus. If that thing gets away now we’ll never catch him.’ She went on breathlessly, ‘Now let’s go.’

‘But how do you even know if that thing did something...bad?’ Flint’s voice cracked, his hands rubbed grit from his skinned knees.

‘Because I just...know.’ Moriah glowed brighter for a moment then just as quick as the clouds had opened they nestled back around the moon blocking it’s glow leaving behind nothing but a scared girl dirty and freezing with cold.

When she held out her hand to help him up Flint knew he was licked. Taking the food, wineskin and weapons from beside Argus Flint followed Moriah off into the night - and after the Giant.

........................~In The Head, We Can Fly And Other Things~.......................

It was a dream and Tibbs knew it was, but the voice belonged to The Splitter and when
the bleary-eyed Vithian awoke later, he pondered on the Time-Mechanic's words...
'It's only a matter of time'

When Tibbs had finally surrendered to the arms of Morpheus and let his musings on what
the late-Victor Kershner was attempting dissapate, heavy-eyelids lowered like curtains
on an old-Earth theatre stage. But, the play was certainly not over.



His nostrils hurt... the stench of burning gasoline and charred flesh, it was everywhere.
And that steady-beat of rotor-blades, it 'whuff-whuffed' from above where Tibbs stood
and alongside the terrible stink, the vibration made Tibbs' head throb.



"This is November-Oscar...." the crackling-voice announced "...we're four clicks from your
location, Over?" Tibbs turned slowly and as his vision improved, he saw large fronded-leaves
and grass that waved high above his hood-covered head.

The chopper came in with the setting-sun behind it, a silhouetted monster-machine
heavy with firepower, Tibbs felt the air stir as it passed over him in the jungle grove.
"This is November-Oscar, Charlie has moved East.... is Carpenter following...? repeat, is
Carpenter following...? Over" That blade-sharp voice came from behind a deadfall to Tibbs'
left.



The humid-heat bore down on the robed-figure staring into the undergrowth and as he
began to step forward to see where the radio-voice was coming from, the realisation of
where he was halted his stride.
He was in Vietnam... he was in a country during one of the many conflicts on Earth, he was
in a war.

"Fella, if you wanna keep that beard and not end-up as pig-fodder, I suggest yer' get yer'
ass in-gear and get under here" a growl advised, Tibbs spun (if you can move that quickly
in a dream!)... and searched the tiger-striped shadows to his right.
It was Nenothtu... it was the Nenothtu that he had never met.

Ho Chi Minh Trail, Saigon, Agent Orange... words futtering across Tibbs' brow as he surveyed
the stranger-who-was-not-a-stranger before him.

"You're no gook, so 'ah'll take it yer' from the Buddhist temple -up the way" the cold-eyed
face whispered from the shadows. Dark greenish-smears told the smaller man that Neno
was wearing something they called camouflage makeup... another memory.
Tibbs pulled his stare away from the featureless face and looked closer at the scene around
him... it was pure carnage.

The radio-transmitter was working, white noise seeped from the small handset in the
severed-hand holding it, the owner of that limb stared blankly into the orange-blue sky.
They were all dead, the napalm had seared their skins and the surroundings behind the
deadfall, American soldiers all.
The bullet-holes in the bodies also indicated to the wide-eyed Tibbs that a fire-fight had
occurred and this caused him to look back over his shoulder at the leaf-covered shadows.
"Nope... It weren't me Fella, Charlie was waiting for 'em and ah' came in at the end of it"
Nenothtu grunted and lifted the almond-eyed cadaver from the darkness behind him.
"Got one to tell me where they're headin'" the Vandal acknowledged with a lop-sided
smile.

Tibbs sucked in a breath of hot air and stared at the dead soldier in the taller man's grasp,
bruises around the throat showed that the jungle guerrilla had been throttled to death,
it seemed that this particular Nenothtu enjoyed his work too much.
The words 'mangeur d'homme' swam in the Vithian's thoughts.



"Is he not everything you wanted him to be?" said the small voice, the surrounding scene
became still, as if the world had stopped in a heartbeat. Tibbs looked upon the grey-face
of The Splitter standing near the blood-soaked deadfall and felt a rage that he had never
known before.

"YOU DID THIS...? YOU CHANGED THIS MAN'S DESTINY?" the Vithian roared and rushed
towards the Being with the silver eyes. The dream -if that was what this truly was, took on
a feeling of reality -Tibbs felt it run through his body, just as hot-blood courses through
one's veins when your dander is up.

The Splitter stood his ground as the little man kept coming, he knew that the next seconds
would after to pass for Tibbs to discover the ultimate truth, the truth in all it's terrible glory.
"You Bastard..." Tibbs spat and grabbed the slender neck of the Time-Mechanic, he would
strangle him and be done with all this -Tibbs thought in his anger-clouded mind.
He would re-set the time-line himself.

(Continued Below)

(From Above)

She looked radiant, she looked happy under the afternoon sun and Tibbs knew that later,
the child would enjoy an ice-cream cone and fall asleep under the shade of a breeze-
flapping parasol.

The Splitter and the terrible vision of butchery had gone, the sand that stuck to his sandals
and the cry of a passing seagull told the bewildered dwarf that he was on a beach, a seaside
of a long-ago Earth and a day for paddling in the shallows of seaweed-covered rocks.

Silo13 looked up from her assistance of the toddling-youngster and showed a smile that
rivalled the high orb that created stunted-shadows beneath the waddling pair, the smile
told of bliss and contentment. Tibbs couldn't help himself -but smile back.

"Heh there... will the 'Punch And Judy' tent be here soon?" the lilac-haired girl called to the
brown-robed stranger that had appeared on the sun-warmed sand, she had been focusing
on letting little-Jack shuffle through the grains and discover the hiding-crab, that she hadn't
noticed the little old man arrive on the beach.



Tibbs shrugged and gazed around at the eye-squinting scene, the coastline was empty
-except for a group of white birds that skirted the water-line. "I'm new here..." Tibbs
answered loudly -maybe too loudly "...I'm sorry I can't help"

Silo nodded and went back to the toddler at her feet, Jack wore a cloth-hat that shaded
his face from the sun and Tibbs wondered who the child really represented.

"Okay, it's another dream..." he whispered "...explain yourself" and felt a presence at
his side, The Splitter stood there with a stick of Cotton Candy that looked like a colourful
-version of Tibbs beard. "Want some?" The Splitter asked amiably.

The fury had gone, the surroundings demanded that no anger could dwell here and yet,
Tibbs felt that annoyance could still be a valid friend. He remained silent as he stared at
the slim-framed Being chewing on the wool-like substance.

"This isn't about us, although... I suppose it is...."The Splitter said around a mouthful
of spun-sugar "...The Time-Weave is catching up with present-time and I'll wager that
the one known as 'CindyMarrs' never realised the fall-out that it would bring into being"

Tibbs frowned his confusion and steeled himself from not snatching the irritating-Cotton
Candy and hurling it towards the flock of resting gulls, he would listen and learn -he advised
himself.

Silo lifted the child and whirled around like a carousel, the laughter from both the woman
and her son tinkled and chuckled liked a small stream finding it's way to the ocean, Tibbs
couldn't help himself and smiled again. "She's happy here" he said softly and wiped tears
from his lined-eyes.



"She is, your company have found other 'niches'... found other areas to live-out their lives"
The Splitter said and turned his black-haired head towards the promenade at their rear.
"Ah, her hubby has arrived" he added.

Tibbs watched the tall dark-haired man called Newman step from the blanched-concrete
walkway and place his expensive shoes into the salt-crusted sand, the three servants -two
female, the other male -carried a white-laced table and rainbow-striped sunshade.
"Teatime at the Silo household" The Splitter piped and he and Tibbs watched the three
humans pass by without a glance.

A few minutes later, the 'all-very-English' scene was laid out with a bowler-hatted butler
and the two apron-adorned maids standing to attention as Silo, Newman and the floppy
-hat-hidden child nibbled on triangles of sandwiches and sipped real lemonade in clear
-plastic tumblers. Tibbs and The Splitter watched in fascination.

With serious features on his smooth-skinned face, The Splitter explained more.
"It's about the rule of action-and-reaction, it's about the effects of the Weave. When Cindy
Marrs sought to bring back her destroyed world, she slipped behind the scenes and began
her plan"

Tibbs touched his nemesis' shoulder and indicated that they should sit on the rounded-
steps that Newman had descended from, the couple were quiet as they shuffled through the
sand.

"Tell me what I have to do" Tibbs said when they had finally slumped onto the promenade
steps, he noticed purple-grey clouds appearing from around the far-off headland.

(More Below)

(And Finally!)

"I will my friend, but first I have to relate what can -and will, happen. The Weave was hidden
well... CindyMarrs knew what she was doing" The silver-eyes offered trust and knowing.

The early-supper was over and the two servants quickly took away the equipment as Silo
and Newman busied themselves with cleaning Jack's face of food.
The gulls took to the air as the light-breeze became a hair-wafting wind and Tibbs knew that
a squall was coming, the thunderheads waited out at sea.

"The reality that yon' girl exists in -holds clues to solve the crisis, the one where your man
spends his time in war... also" The Splitter said and placed his elbows on his knees, Tibbs
copied the act and rolled his finger -Neno-like, for The Splitter to continue.

"We're dealing with live organisms, they plough their futures and create timelines around
themselves... this CindyMarrs never took this into consideration" he said with a sigh.
"The task ahead of you, must remain secret. Any plans of bringing the Vandal to his throne
will have to be put on-hold..." The Splitter said and showed an understanding gaze to Tibbs.
"...I know this will baulk you"

The butler produced a black umbrella and as the child was hurried away from the droplets
of rain and rising-gusts, Tibbs stood up as the maid and her wriggling bundle neared the
promenade stairs.
The remaining-maid also held a brolly and the dance began.



"You must get them all back together and travel to The Tree Of Knowledge" The Splitter
whispered as Tibbs peered over the freckled arms of the maid to see the face of Silo's
child, he wondered why the hat was jammed so-low on the little head.

"You must get back to The Yydryl.... are you listening?" The Splitter asked with a serious
tone, the Vithian seemed to have lost all interest in what lay ahead.
He had no eyes. The kid had black hair and no eyes.

"TIBBS!" The Splitter yelled and pulled at Tibbs' robed-shoulder, the wide-stare from behind
the small spectacles told the Time-Mechanic that this was his opportunity to drive his message
home.

"These realities are fallout... do you understand?" he snapped "whatever you see and hear
amongst these lives are formed because of the Weave's wake" Tibbs looked blankly at the
custodian of the Timelines.

Silo and Newman continued to dance on the storm-kissed sands, flurries of sea-wind danced
their own waltz and somewhere in the puzzled mind of the ancient Vithian, he knew that his
future -and the futures of his friends and loved-ones, would need him to be also fleet-of-foot.

The birds circled and called curses to the grey-purple clouds as Tibbs and The Splitter slipped
away from the romantic vista.
In the moment that the pair winked out of the dream-scene, Tibbs saw a figure standing off
towards where the seagulls had been waiting, a dark-shape of someone who the birds were
afraid of.
'Watch for the circling birds'

..................................................~Black-Top~................................................

Cholame -California, Route 466 on a warm September afternoon in 1955. Tibbs and The Splitter
breathed in the smell of Timothy grass and the far-away scent of the ocean. The Pacific Ocean.

"Where are we?" Tibbs muttered and slowly rotated in his place, miles of undulated meadow
flowed to his left and right, the gnarled telephone poles and the paved road were the only
evidence that humans had walked the land.

"You're going to need some help with your quest..." The Splitter said and licking his fingertip,
he held it up in the air "...I think this is the place to start"

The car came over the rise at an alarming speed and Tibbs had to catch himself from not diving
into the nearby ditch, The Splitter merely opened his arms and whispered "here comes our
ride" and faced the little car with it's two occupants.

The 1950 Ford coupe that appeared behind them caused Tibbs to spin around "Just to confirm,
this IS a dream, yes?" the Vithian hissed and subconsciously reached for his handset.
"It is and you have nothing to worry about" came the upbeat reply, the two vehicles had no
intention of slowling.


................................

Death slammed a bony-hand onto the pages of The Book Of The Wretched, he had no right
-he thought, The Splitter had no right in dabbling in his work.

James Craddock and Pandora looked up at the tall-shrouded figure and wondered what was
happening. "James and myself will attempt to infiltrate Bisley Dee..." but The Reaper cut-off
Pandora's statement in mid-sentence.

"Remain here... do not move from this room" he snarled and slid his huge frame effortlessly
towards the doors that seemed to rise into the darkness forever. The black-haired girl that
once carried a more-mature body of a beautiful temptress, now showed a puzzled brow at
her lover's temperament. "What's wrong darling...?" she cooed and left the man with the
small pencilled-moustache at her baby's crib. "...Why are you angry?"

Death ignored the whining voice and passed through the ornate entrance to The Otherside
and of course, the doors stayed closed.
................................

"Is he dead?" Tibbs said softly and peered into the passenger's seat of the Porsche Spyder,
James Dean's head lolled on his shoulder and the handsome actor of stage and screen showed
no sign that he was being visted by time-travellers.

The Splitter made a hissing-sound through his lips and mumbled something about 'time being
important' as he leaned in and touched the young man's forehead.
Tibbs glanced over to where the Porsche's driver lay, he had been thrown from the vehicle
and now groggily rose from the waving weeds at the side of the road.

It would be said later that Dean was driving the car known as 'Little Bastard' but here-and-now,
the temperamental-thespian was slumped in the passenger-side.
"We have to be quick, if Adam is to come back, he'll be needing a body" The Splitter whispered
with a grin.

Mr. Donald Turnupspeed in the other car wiped blood from his nose and squinted through the
cracked windshield, it looked like ghosts were moving around outside.
................................

Charon placed his Ferry pole down near the sack of shiny coins and faced the gaunt shadow
that waited on the jetty. The fares had been thick-and-fast recently and The FerryMan's boat
sat low in the water with souls for The Otherside, just another busy day.

"Have you checked your inventory lately?" Death said formally, the days of firefights and racing
through tunnels lay behind them now and Charon guessed that his cohort in soul-collecting
was back to his old ways.
He stood erect and said nothing.

"There's a man... a Doctor in his time who I am concerned about. Have you checked your
inventory?" Death asked again and folded his night-cloth-wrapped arms.
The waters of The Styx lapped against the eternal jetty as the pair faced each other in silence.

"Nobody gets to go back... you know that" Charon finally rasped and reached for his oar.



(Continued Below)

(From Above)

"Where am I? croaked Adam from the centre of the road, his foot hurt and his head felt like it
had four-rounds with Cassius clay. Tibbs staggered as he realised who was before him.



"But th... this is a dream....?" he stuttered "A...Adam hasn't REALLY come back, has he?" the last
words were said as a weak question.
The Splitter beamed up at the young man with the fair hair and answered his fellow time-
traveller without looking at him.



"The San-Andrea Fault passes through this way and if you ask any of the Chumash tribes
around here, they'll tell you this is the place for 'big medicine... big ju-ju" the grey Being
announced. "Oh..." said Adam and peered at the horizon "...It does seem a haunted place"
"Oh" agreed Tibbs and now there were three of them.
................................


As the Highway Patrol car plumed dust towards the crash, Death bloomed into view and
surveyed the scene. The Splitter had gone and so had the solitary-victim on Route 466.
As the lean-shadow passed the dead-dog of vehicle, he noticed the chipped name inscribed
on it's dented bumper.
"Oh I concur... he IS a little bastard" he hissed and slipped from the reality.

......................................*God Only Knows*......................................

The colours swirled and bled away and in the small hut on the cavern wall, Tibbs slept on.
It was cold here, not the deep-cold of the planet where Silo13 gave birth to her taken-
child, but the Vithian's old bones felt the flurries of snow being carried on chilly winds
in the dark streets of Old London town.

Mucklebones heard her man groan in his sleep and gently patted his clenched-fist,
"You'll get there" she whispered and went back to her own dreams of fighting the
Dark Lord on a little planet called Carbiox.



The stranger walked ahead on the damp road and a faint whistle of a long-lost tune came
to Tibb's hairy-ears as he watched the lonely scene among the shadows.

The gaslight struggled to paint the scene through the flakes of snow and somehow, Tibbs
knew he was again, back on Earth and in a time before real technology had taken hold.
"Where are we?" asked the fair-haired man that stood beside him and with startled
features, Tibbs looked around at the figure that wasn't there seconds ago.



It was Adam. It was Adam in his 'James Dean' body and Tibbs felt his senses ease as
they accepted that the man gazing around at the tall buildings was the familiar-Doctor
from The Yydryl.

Tibbs touched the taller man's forearm and whispered "it's good to have you back"
The stranger in the wide-rimmed hat strode on along the stony lane between Victorian
-style abodes and without another word, Tibbs took-off after him.
'There's a clue here' the little-man thought in his slumber and tumbled back into the
surreal head trip.

"It is obvious to anyone, little-man..." a deep round-toned voice came "...that you must
seek out The Tree Of Knowledge. It is also obvious that you have no idea of what your
prize is about" Tibbs felt the voice held a tone of mocking and a self-felt opinion of
superiority.

A sound of passing hooves and wooden wheels came and went as Tibbs puffed out a plume
of warm air in his endeavours to catch up with the distant figure, Adam had fallen-in
alongside him with an easier gait.
The 'whoever' continued.

"The Tree Of Knowledge is seen by many theologians across your universe as a metaphor
for the essence of choice-against-advice"

Tibbs and Adam closed-in on the figure that ambled along at an easy pace, and yet it
seemed that the distance between them never altered. The voice became louder, the
man's hat and shoulder-length hairstyle became more-discernible and yet, the stranger
seemed faraway, ahead of them and could never be caught.

"Some see it as a esoteric-warning of how the constant striving for betterment through
technology taints the human soul, tempts and beguiles the innocent thoughts of those
who yearn for only happiness... of course, it it said as a merism -and so gets lost along the
way" the voice proclaimed.

Adam reached for the panting-Time wizard beside him and helped him keep the pace, the
stranger had turned the corner now and they both felt that an answer was close.
For the 'back-from-the-dead' Adam, he had no idea what they were seeking.

"As any sentient-being grows and reaches out from it's loneliness, it changes... it conforms
to the company it meets. Life is designed that way and is the simple act of learning"
Tibbs was really struggling now, the younger man beside him had a sheen of sweat on his
forehead to prove that the race wasn't an easy one, but without words between them, they
carried on.

"And so we arrive at the question in regards of The Tree Of Knowledge. Please note that
this 'tree' -this arboreal legend must not be confused with The Tree Of Life... I warn you
now to NEVER seek-out that particular goal"

The stranger stood in the centre of the poorly-lit street and with panting relief, Tibbs and
Adam were grateful that the dark-shape had stopped the marathon, both men leaned
forward with hands-on-knees to catch their breath.

"Do you hear my words Vithian?" the face-shadowed figure asked and this time, Tibbs
noticed that a warning growl accompanied the low voice, but nodded his bearded-head.
"I... I have a question..." Tibbs gasped and again, reached for Adam's strong arm, he
was done-in, exhausted, buggered -as Mucklebones would say.

(Continued Below)

(From Above)

Somewhere to their left, the faint-sound of alcohol-fueled singing could be heard and
as the snowfall increased, Tibbs guessed that this vision was taking place in a Earth-time
Christmas period. Adam was breathing in slowly now and seemed distracted by the
happy noise.

"Ah... they're singing my song" the man in the hat said with a lighter tone "Did you
know it was the most wonderful time of year, gentlemen?" The voices faded away and
the lonely Victorian street waited along with the two 'off-worlders' for the next part
of the dream-play.

"Your question is the usual-one, the same query that Moses cried out on Mount Sinia, the
same one that Lancelot asked on his knees in Corbin and the same one that Bula-Tell
screamed as she endured the flames during the fall of Geth... 'where is the thing I seek?"
the voice grumbled and for the first time, the man looked up.

Adam fell to his knees first, all energy drained away and it was only because of his heavier
weight that he slowed Tibbs' descent without toppling-over himself. In the age-old humble
position, they looked upon Jenovah with tear-soaked eyes.

"I am the truth and the way. Your path will lead to the heart of your stars. Nothing must
sway you from your quest... For I have spoken" boomed the voice.

Tibbs struggled with his breathing as he gazed at the visage that told of infinite-patience
and eternal-wisdom. Eyes that knew the end before the beginning, that could rend evil
and in the same instant ignore the worst of depravities. A mouth that would smile at a
Chesfen alighting on a baby's hand and between the beat of time, roar annihilation of
entire dimensions.

"What about Dag?" Adam uttered and the rolling-feeling of being in the company of sheer
-joy swept away, the falling snowflakes emulated the movement inside the night's breeze.
Jenovah's shoulders dropped.

"You know, everytime I try that rapture-stuff, Love always-always gets in the way" the
wise-eyed man said amiably and strode over to help Tibbs to his feet. Adam scrambled to
his height and peered closer at the man they had met in the Yuletide season.

Tibbs thanked Jenovah with a slight bow and saw a smile of humour slip across God's
face "You're welcome" came the whispered reply.

The food-Vendor came from behind them with his shoulder-strapped tray and after
purchasing three small-pieces of baked brown-coloured batter, the trio stood eating the
fare among the gently-falling flakes.

The seller touched his flat-cap to his customers and said "have good 'un me-old cocks!"
With a parting wink, he set off along the snow-blown byways of a dream-born Old London
town.

"What are these?" Adam asked as he wiped his lips, the merchant had moved on, but he
really did fancy another one of those dollar-sized-pieces of food. Jenovah offered the
last nibble of his batter and recieved a friendly 'no thanks' for his charity.

"They're known as Yorkshire Pennies... they're tasty don't you think?" God said around a
mouthful of the stuff and lifted his eyebrows during the question.
It was Tibbs who answered.

"Pennies from Heaven... I get it" the Vithian said solomnly and then began to wheeze.
Tibbs has always had a very distinct laugh. Imagine that the long-bearded serious Time
Mechanic smoked those cigars that Nenothtu enjoys, imagine that the poe-faced sage that
looked at humour as a waste of time and then think of your school Geography Teacher
with the pointy-glasses and below-the-knee-skirt... finding something that kissed their
tickle-bone.
That was Tibbs... and boy, did he laugh.



(Last bit below!)

(As said -the last bit!)

During the braying and sniffing-back of tears of joy and during the time that Tibbs rolled
around on the snow-crusted road and sounded like he was being whipped with a large
knotted rope, Jenovah removed his hat, stepped close to Adam and spoke quickly.

"Your soulmate, the one you seek is beyond the pale, in Death's residence." the middle
-aged man imparted quietly. Adam kept his eyes on the hilarious sight of the little man
holding his sides and struggling for breath between guffaws, but his focus was on Jenovah's
words.

"I cannot assist you, there are rules..." he continued "... my rules -to be precise, but I am
sure a man like yourself may know of a way around them?" Jenovah raised his tone at the
end of his statement to indicate it was question, but Adam remained silent.


Tibbs pulled himself together and with a groan of old-age, he stood up and wiped the
dirt from his robes. "Sorry about that" he snorted and quelled another bout of giggling.
The street was peacful in the wee-hours of the night as the three men looked at each other
and as a distant clock chimed midnight, it was the man with the hat in his hands who spoke.

"I have one boon I seek from you before this dream moves on" Jenovah whispered "I hope
it doesn't cause too much trouble?" The kindly-face offered a concerned-look towards the
brooding 'Rebel-without-a-cause' young man and the haggard ancient Tibbs.

"You're the big-guy..." Adam said softly "you're the biggest-guy of all-time, you can do
what you like" his tone told of a slight-envy. Jenovah showed a knowing-smile and nodded
that he understood.

"Then I would like to wish all of your readers a very Merry Christmas... I hope that will be
okay?" he said and turned to walk away. Tibbs forced himself to not look up from his musings
and Adam merely stared off-screen and felt his cheeks reddening.



"Remember..." Jenovah called over his shoulder "...go to the heart of the matter" and faded
into the London night.

* ~ * North * ~ *

‘Naughty or nice?’ Santa asked bending over his legendary stomach the Head Elf had heard was reported to shake like a ‘bowl full of Jello‘.

‘Well Sir...’ The Elf ‘s jaws clacked like a nutcracker, ‘BIAD falls under the category of conundrum Sir. He, errr, she pops up on both lists. Repeatedly Sir.’ Looking over the Big Book of ‘Naughty and Nice’ he clutched in his arms the Elf scowled - something Elves intrinsically specifically and absolutely never were ever supposed to do. Rule one? ‘Jolly at all times’ - already broken.

Rule two followed in quick succession. ‘No grumbling’ yet the Head Elf indeed did just that. He grumbled. Trying to complete business as his Majesty - nude and nearly touching his toes while rummaging through the lower drawers of his dresser searching for his ‘Lucky’ Christmas boxers - was particularly daunting.

‘And that’s jelly, not Jello.’ Santa let out with a peal of Ho-Ho-Ho’s, ‘Jello got nixed by PETA. Something about cow hooves and...’ The rest of His Majesties sentence got lost in a tumble of Speedos flying over Santa’s head while Mr. Claus - still up to his elbows in the lowest drawer - weaved his hind end from side to side in time to his humming of Jingle Bells‘.

‘And for your information? BIAD is one of my favorites. Make sure that name goes on the ‘premium list’.’ Santa stood, his belly did shake like jelly and with another peal of Ho-Ho-Ho’s he flapped a pair of size 96 boxers in in the air like a sleigh blanket the little reindeers with red noses stitched into the fabric gleaming brightly.

‘Ruddy hates it when I wear these!‘ Santa winked his nose cherry red with exertion.

‘Please Sir, we’ve only got a few more names left on the list. Would you like me to finish while you dress orrrr...’ He tried not to break rule three, something about swearing and vulgarity, but it was near to midnight. They were behind schedule. Santa should have been in his sleigh and ready to go fifteen minutes ago.

‘Yessss, yes yes. That would be The Neno, Wild and Carpet. Oh wait, he goes by Newman now doesn‘t he!‘ Santa’s belly bounced above the boxer line his finger pressed tightly to the side of his nose his fly gapping open. The Head Elf had to look away.

‘Yes your Majesty, those are the last three names this year.’ He sighed, a minor infraction listed under grumbling.

‘Now now! What’s this! Loosing your ‘jolly’ already?‘ Santa chuckled. ‘Look kid, you’re new at this. I know ho ho...’ Santa sat on a stool that looked far too small for his amply, ‘Don’t sweat the small stuff! It’s CHRISTMAS!’ ’And another thing.’ Santa spun in place on the stool causing the Elf to jump. ’Put Ship and Chumley onto the ‘Nice’ list. They don’t belong on the ‘naughty’ side of the book.’ Santa turned back to the mirror and began the painstaking process of detangling his freshly washed beard.

‘But Sir.’ He nearly shouted. Santa heard anyway.

‘No ‘but Sir’ me Elf.‘ Santa’s brows as thick and bushy white as cotton balls dipped slightly on his forehead, ‘It’s not their fault. Ship is good. So is my buddy Chumley. Why if truth be told he and I are related! Distantly, but related!’ Back to ‘jolly’ Santa’s ‘Ho-Ho-Ho’s’ grew louder with ever sip of spiced eggnog his Majesty took from the gold and emerald encrusted goblet sitting on the dressing table.

‘Yes Sir. I’ll make that amendment right away Sir. Now, if we might, back to Neno, Wild and Newman.’

‘You forgot Silo.’

‘I’m sorry Sir?’ He choked having no idea what or who Santa was referring to.

‘Yes Silo. Don’t forget Silo.‘ Santa thought a moment and added. ‘Give them just what they’re asking for. All of them. Wild. She gets what she wants. Neno - double it for him. Silo? Her hearts desire. Newman too.’ Santa broke into a full voice rendition of Frosty the Snowman.

‘But Sir!’ He’d heard rumors of Santa’s magnanimous moments but this was absurd! It was never done! In the history of Christmas it had never happened! ‘Whatever they want Sir? Are you absolutely sure Sir?’ His mouth hung open in disbelief the sweating Elf nearly dropping the big book of Naughty and Nice.

Santa’s eyes sparkled a dangerous fiery emerald green trapping the Elf’s gaze like a reindeer caught in head lights through the reflection in the dressing mirror. The temperature in the room dropped a miniature blizzard forming directly over the Elf’s head. His nose dripping ice cycles the Elf got the hint. Santa meant it.

‘Yes Sir, sorry Sir...’ His teeth chattered snow piling up in twin mounds on each shoulder.

Released with a wave of Santa’s had the Elf backpedaled from Santa’s dressing room and right into the ample form of Mrs. Claus who stood waiting patiently in the hall.

‘Now now young man, don’t you worry about a thing.’ Mrs. Claus chuckled and always ready with a cup a hot cocoa handed one to shaking Elf who did his best to juggle the Big Book of N&N and the hot chocolate at once.

‘Now dear, did his Majesty find his lucky boxers?’ Her eyes as bright as stars crinkled at the corners.

‘Yes Mam, he did.’ The Elf downed his cocoa handing the cup back to Mrs. Claus.

‘Well then all’s right in the galaxy.‘ She sighed smiling. ‘How lovely! Now you go do what his Majesty said and it will all work out just fine! Shoo!’ She chortled dropping a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign over the door handle before waddling into her husband’s room.



The Elf ran to finish the nights work. Mr. and Mrs. Claus spent the final moments of Christmas Eve together in peace. The reindeer brushed and gleaming dipped their antlered heads unto their harnesses readying to fly.

No one saw the grubby patch work bear with the crooked grin and dull shoe-button eyes climb clumsily into Santa’s sleigh to wriggle and hide beneath the mountain of toys for all the good little girls and boys.

Nenothtu swished the Caliburn through a figure eight, weaving an impenetrable web of steel to his front and flanks with the blade before abruptly swinging it in a level arc at neck height in a full circle around himself, turning his entire body to do so, then dropped the point to the ground and rested a bit, sweating and trying to catch his breath back from the exertion of manipulating the huge blade. With it's point on the ground, the pommel still reached nearly to his collar bone. Caliburn weighed in at only around 2 and a half or three pounds for all it's great length, but slinging even two and a half pounds for any length of time became tiresome, especially when one took into account the centripedal forces of the long blade.

Margo watched him sweat and struggle to catch his breath as she sat to the side, out of range of the devilish arcs of sharpened steel his exertions produced. "So you took fencing classes, then?" she observed, more to break the silence than to make a comment.

Neno looked offended. "Fencing classes?" he intoned as he drew himself up to his full height from the partially bent over breath-catching posture he had assumed. "Do I look like a ballerina to you or something? I learned to sword fight, not dance with a sword! There's a huge difference."

Margo couldn't help herself - she just HAD to tweak him some more. "Looked a lot like dancing to me, but your partner was leading."

Nenothtu harrumphed. "You get a bulky-assed blade like this in motion, gravity and centripedal force takes over. All you can do at that point is guide it a little, and let the Universe do all the heavy lifting. OF COURSE the sword was leading... er, would have been, had we been dancing, I mean. You know I don't dance!"

The pair had been at this for an hour and a half now, Margo sitting and watching the intricate play of steel on air, and neno slinging and sweating and trying to breathe. "It looks like you'd have gotten tired of this playing around with your toy by now" Margo observed. She knew SHE was getting pretty tired of watching.

Neno shot her a glare and said "Something is coming, an' I might have need of havin' my swordplay polished. I can jus' FEEL it. Dunno whut it is, but practice makes perfect, an' you don't never have to re-load a sword. If yer gettin' bored, there's always a sammich to make or some pie to be cut or something, woman!"

Margo stretched languidly and retorted "if it's a galley slave you want, pick one from your admirers here" - she indicated the crowd of diminutive beings who had gathered to watch "their Neo" weave what they were sure was some sort of magical web with his steel sidekick - " and not issue orders AT me!" then added as she rolled her shoulders back, trying to make it look like more stretching "I've got better uses..."

It was neno's turn for riposte. "Ah'm too tuckered. I might fall out from hunger after all this work iffen you don't FEED ME! Surely you realize that I've not got the energy left for..."

Margo cut him off by standing and saying "ALRIGHT! You win - this time. I'll feed your sorry ass to keep you from just perishing. You sure know which buttons to push, don't you?"

Nenothtu grinned and said "it's what I do... Makes the button pushing easier when yer dealin' with a mostly mechanical woman - they got buttons EVERYWHERE!"

Margo shot him a glare and said "I can still just let you starve to death, you know! Don't forget that all my mechanical assemblies can still DISASSEMBLE you!"

Neno laughed, right out loud. "An' don' YOU fergit that ah'm indestructible!"

Margo approached him to give him a hug, then put on enough pressure to perhaps crack a rib - she heard something pop, anyhow. Neno wheezed, because he couldn't actually breath or draw enough air in to speak at the moment, and Margo said "I'll take that to mean 'uncle!' " and turned him loose. When he was released, neno sat in a nearby chair, to make catching his breath a little easier.

When neno finally caught his breath back, he blackly observed "ah'll find yer OFF button one of these days, and then yer done fer, woman!" Margo blew him a kiss sweetly and turned to go make lunch.

* ~ * Back on the Yydryl * ~ *

‘Is there any word yet of our sisters Sir?’ One of the twins asked Newman. They didn’t look the same but he still couldn’t remember which one was Terah and which was Sera especially in their lab coats, not that is should have made a difference.

‘No. No word.’ He answered curtly his eyes apologizing for his abruptness. ‘Shi will inform you if and when any information comes forward concerning their whereabouts.’ Newman tried to soften the blow but failed. Both sisters blanched their eyes filling briefly with tears. He wished he could tell them what he knew of Moriah but didn’t dare. Jeni? There was no way of telling where she and Adam had teleported to. Newman could only hope wherever it was Moriah and Silo were with them. At least if they were all together...his thoughts began to wander.

‘What is it you need Sir?’ Terah asked politely. She could see Newman struggling, knew he wanted to tell them more but she didn’t dare ask. So far she and Sera were free from the dreaded collar and they’d stay that way as long as possible while trying to find a way to help their friend and Ship.

‘Yes, well. I’m here to collect the sleeping draught Shi ordered.’ Newman refused to meet their eyes instead staring off into a corner of the Recovery Bay.

‘Yes Sir, we’ve gathered all the ingredients but we must know who it’s intended for.’ The shorter haired of the two answered from behind a long shiny mixing table.

Newman scowled, ’Shi ordered it for Pip. He’s been having nightmares.’ The collar at his neck hummed. Too much information? Must be. The short haired twin, Sera he remembered now, heard the warning buzz and stepped back behind the pharmacy table.

‘So, why do you need to know who it’s for?’ His voice turned rough again his eyes black with humiliation.

‘Weight sir. Weight, age, sex. We need the information in order to adjust the dosage correctly.’ Terah answered while scribbling something on an old prescription pad Adam had kept for nostalgic purposes. Newman frowned. No one used paper. Everything from doodling to orders were written on MP’s the information automatically stored in the Yydryl’s data base.

Sera’s eye briefly met Newman’s flicked to the note and back to him once more. The message couldn’t have been more clear. Whatever she was writing was for him alone. Twisting the note around Newman barely read the words before she tore off the page tucking it neatly up the sleeve of her lab coat.


Handing over a small bottle of cloudy liquid Sera gave Adam the instructions. ‘Tell Pip to mix this with water and drink it immediately before bed. All of it. And not to eat or drink anything just lay down and let the effect of the medicine take over.’

‘Thank you. I’ll take it to him now.’ Newman blinked over the bottle something niggling at his conscious. Something important lurking just on the outskirts of his memory.

‘May we ask why you’re delivering it and not a medical droid?’ Sera asked before Newman could leave the Recovery Bay.

‘Regulation. By law no android can administer any form of pharmaceutical to another life form.’ Newman spouted medical rote.

‘Oh yes, that’s right we’d forgotten.’ But they hadn’t forgotten. The twins used the opportunity to step to the front of the pharmacy table each girl making a quick hand sign before tucking their arms behind their back again.

Crossed fingers. Something Newman had often seen Silo do. For luck.

* ~ * Nightmares * ~ *

Pip hadn’t thanked Newman for delivering the little bottle of liquid to his private quarters. The boy had further snubbed his one time friend by turning his back while he listened to Newman recited the directions for the draught. A scornful order to leave his quarters was all Newman received for his kindness. Newman had made an enemy of the boy long ago and now the boy had turned into a man. Almost. Which made him even more deadly. A boys hate without a mans character or experience for tempering.

‘What are you waiting for? I told you to get OUT!’ Pip screamed the vial exploding out of his hand crashing against the door to his quarters. The door - which had already slid shut - dripped a milky white liquid trailing behind chunks of broken glass. Pip sobbed with rage. Now what would he do? He’d never call him back to get another draught. Pip let his temper flare breaking a wine goblet, trashing his quarters but it did nothing to restore the bottle of liquid only to tire him - the very last thing he wanted. He didn’t dare try and rest without sleeping like the dead - drunk or from the precious opiates in the thin puddle thickening like gruel on his floor.

Throwing himself to his bunk the man-boy dashed hot tears from his eyes too tired to stay open too afraid to close. The nightmares. The things he saw. It was too much. And they were getting worse. He’d lay down on his bunk each night hoping to read himself to sleep from Serendipity the Mars book he kept in his father’s old saddle bag hidden under his bed. He’d start out just fine then the next thing he was trapped in a nightmare so realistic it made him sweat and wretch. Shuddering Pip recalled the terrors from the night before. A Giant so hideous Pip could nearly smell it’s stench had eaten an old woman alive crunching her head between his teeth like rock candy. And then Adam. The Giant had eaten Adam. He couldn’t tell where Adam was, but he’d known in his gut it was him. Pip shot up from the bed taking a long quaff straight from a carafe of wine a droid kept filled by his bedside at all times. Shi’s order's.

Catching his breath, belching and panting Pip crumpled to his knees digging blindly at the space under the bed. He didn’t want to read the book, not anymore, but he could no more resist it’s pull than the pull of the wine.

Dimming the lights of his room with a wave of a hand Pip climbed under his covers pulling them over his head. The book thrummed under his fingers glowing slightly before opening right to the page where he’d left off reading the night before. The words swam, Pip’s eyes rolled back in his head...

It was the Giant standing over something red and gory a large blood stained branch from a nearby tree held like a club in the things huge fist. The Gant bent to sniff once, then twice at the fallen body poking it’s lifeless head with the gruesome club before turning back to a flaming hut the corpse already forgotten.

Before Pip started screaming he watched the Giant tear the roof off the burning hut to rummage inside, the gnarly hairs on the Giant's arms crisping with heat. ‘Where...is...he?‘ The monstrous thing grunted and rearing up to his full height brought pulled something from the hut wrapped in animal skins that he tucked under his arm. It was when the Giant turned and looked straight at Pip the screaming started and went on and on and on.

.............................*Pinch Me And I'll Awake*...............................

"I remember the darkness..." Adam said softly and for some reason, reached into his
shirt pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He had never smoked before, but now he felt that
the body he had 'acquired' really needed a smoke.
"...There's no light and no hope in that place" he finished and pulled the crumpled
packet open.

Tibbs, Adam and The Splitter stood on a breezy prairie with the towering-statue of
Nenothtu looking on. Wherever they were, it must be in a far-future of Khalamzadar IV.
As he surveyed the granite sculpture, Tibbs wondered what his subconscious was doing
by creating these different scenarios. One moment he tramped the streets of a Victorian
London, the next he was standing on an eternal grassland with a craggy-Gunslinger staring
off towards the horizon.



"It will always fascinate me that you-folk look on death as a finality" The Splitter chirped
off-handedly and turned towards the solitary hut that hunkered among the swaying grass.
Tibbs patted the brooding younger man on his forearm and pondered what 'you-folk'
meant.

Tobacco smoke mingled with the weak grey plume that wafted from the small stack of
the canvassed-roofed abode as the trio moved under the shadow of the rock-hewn
Vandal.

The old woman that sat on the rickety stool stank... no that would be inaccurate. The whole
hut reeked of unwashed bodies and animal sweat, it was a place of failure and spiteful
thoughts.



"So yer' come to see the canny-one, eh?" the hook-nosed witch squeaked and distrusting
eyes scanned the three visitors at the entranceway. The bald-skinny animals that slunk
around the stool legs watched with the same lack of welcoming.

Yeneth -The Splitter bowed slightly and stepped in through the cloth door-flap "I hope
we're not intruding?" he asked in a soft tone.
"Me' wolves smelled yer' when yer' were hangin' aboot outside" she said in a way that
that emphasised that any piece of knowledge was a power. Tibbs stopped in mid-stride
as he realised what the hag had said. The knee-high tic-ridden vermin that skittered
around the dirty-room could hardly be described as wolves -he thought.

Adam stepped over to the ground-hearth that struggled to offer any light and heat from
it's flames and picked up the metal poker. "May I bring you some wood m'lady?" he asked
without looking at the scrawny woman.

The cackle came first and then -with what sounded like as a throat-full of phlegm being
cleared, the crone replied "Eeeh yer bugger, it been a long-age since anyone called me
that!" The dirt-smeared hood that covered the witch's head fell away to reveal thin
strands of greasy unkempt hair.

"Yer'll be lucky to find anything more that bison-pats and wolf turds on this forsaken
veldt..." she sneered "old Matilda knows this land and there's no trees in this place...
'asn't been fur centuries"

Tibbs knew that Adam wanted to be alone with his thoughts after the meeting with
the dubious stranger that called himself Jenovah. Science told him that no-one omnipotent
being held everything in his hands and yet, something niggled and itched in his head...
in his soul.

"I'll just be outside" Adam mumbled and stepped back into the fresh air, the Vithian
envied him for that but focused on what was to occur inside. This dream must have a
reason -he thought as he nodded to the passing Doctor.

The Splitter and Tibbs stood quietly for a few moments and eyed the dismal surroundings,
Matilda seemed to be not one for housekeeping or pet care.

"So what brings yer' to me hoose...?" she rasped and scratched her warty-chin "...yer
look like yer've lost yer way" Yeneth smiled and flicked back his collar-length hair, he knew
it was time to charm the waiting-crone Tibbs thought.

(Continued Below)

(From Above)

"My friend here needs advice about which way to advise his friends... his world has changed
so much" The Splitter said calmly and ignored the nuzzling dog-thing at his ankle.
Tibbs straightened his beard and watched the ugly woman rise from the stool, broomstick
legs slipped away under the filthy robe that hung like a drapes in a charnel house.

"Oh aye, the worlds turn and sometimes we get tossed off from it's spinnin'..." the Hag
said seriously "...a man can get lost out there" she added and pointed a bony-finger towards
the doorway. The wind moaned across the eaves as she scuttled over to an old cracked and
splintered crate, Tibbs wagered that part of it had been used for kindling and then reminded
himself that this was a dream
In his bed, the Vithian actually smiled.

"My Mother gave me these and she gottem' frum hers... they'll tell yon midget where his
feet should go" Matilda grumbled as she honoured Tibbs and The Splitter to a view of
her bare backside. Bending down, she pulled a hearthen jar from the damaged box.

The Splitter gulped back the need to vomit and forced his eyes towards the dying fire, the
terrible sight that the crone had issued was enough to even trouble the great Time-Mechanic.
"Aye, me great-great-great-great Grandaddy wrestled 'em from the Devil himself" Matilda
muttered as she crossed the room to where her two guests waited.

The contents of the jar were Dragons teeth, or at least shards from the terrible fangs of a
long-ago beast, Tibbs recognised them immediately.
"Back then, all this was swamp and jungle until the Neo had his men clear it all out fur
farmin'..." the crone said as she showed the off-white pieces in her filthy palm.

"...The sod-pullers moved in and then the dustbowl happened, that was after they built
the statue to 'im" and now, no trees grow" Matilda's voice was hardly a murmer and Tibbs
knew that the witch was used to talking to herself in this tone.

The Vithian leaned closer to the rank-smelling woman and peered at the fragments of Uktena
teeth, they were the ones he had took from Boy In A Dress and now, this strange woman had
them.
The Splitter watched his face has Tibbs realised that he was standing with his daughter-from
-the-future.

"Do yer ken whut' they are...?" she hissed softly as she stared into the shocked visitor's face
"...do yer ken their power?" Two black teeth of her own waited in Matilda's crumpled smile.

.................................

Adam touched the moss-covered thigh of the giant effigy that waited at the summit of the
hill, the 'Neo' that he remembered didn't sport a greying beard and lined-face of the statue
above him -he thought. "I wish you were here now Neno... I wish you could tell me how to
get Dag back" he murmered and patted the stone.

"It's all about deceit my dear Adam... It's all about deceit" came a female-voice on the wind
and the James Dean-lookalike spun around to see who had sneaked up on him.
The priarie stared back, the horizon also.

"Time has a way of educating a person, even a bi-wraith like me" the voice cooed again and
this time, Adam thought that somebody was hiding behind the granite Nenothtu.
"Step forward woman, help me if you can" he stated and quietly moved along the track that
encircled the massive figure, Adam guessed that the stranger was to his left.

The wind ruffled his blonde hair as the answer came "I cannot my cunning Doctor, for I am
chained within the stone" she said and Adam faltered in his stealth, he knew that voice.

Silo13 waited with her chains in the hollowed-out area beneath the Neo's spine, the once
-beautiful lavender-haired female from the starship known as The Yydryl waited under a
grey matted-mane and showed maniac eyes. Shackled and left in her madness, Silo watched
the young man before her.

"How the roles change, huh...?" she whispered and offered a smile that struggled between
the female that fought at Nenothtu's side -so long ago and a girl who had glimpsed behind
the curtain of insanity. Adam knew that he was not in Kansas anymore.

....................................*Gettin From A To B*........................................

"Do you think he knows?" James Craddock murmured as he caressed the ornate doors that
Death had passed through, he smiled at the carvings of the huddled souls and the gaunt
figure that steered the ferry. Pandora's plans to have Craddock take over Death's tasks was
a tricky one at best, but the opportunity to hold such control made it irresistible for the
reknown powerbroker.



"The glammer I have placed on him will arrest any thoughts of deceit" Pandora boasted
with a tone that indicated smugness, it was a tone that James enjoyed.
"Do you think he knows about us?" he asked and turned to face the temptress near the
gloomy crib, he halted his thoughts on how he was going to dump the kid.
That was for later.

Deaths' Library looked on as the smiling James passed Pandora and touched her shoulder
affectionately.



....................................

Silo13 sat back into the dry dust in the recessed area that had become home, Adam couldn't
help but feel sorry for the woman who watched him from beneath the quarried effigy.
"You came back... The fabled-Yydryl's Doctor made it back...." Silo whispered to herself
and as Tibbs, The Splitter and Matilda arrived next to where Adam stood, she added
"...and now you know the way"

Tibbs ran to her and ignoring the shrugging and snarls, he cradled her head and whispered
calmly until she rocked in his arms quietly. "I want to know who did this" he hissed and
stroked the mop of steel-coloured unkempt hair, the angry eyes burned over the rim of
his small spectacles.

The old woman stooped to touch the emaciated canine that waited at her shin, the wind
caught her scent and sent it across the prairie. "The lass was put here by the townfolk of
Bisley Moor..." Matilda pointed vaguely towards the east "...they come by every so often
with supplies fur her and ah' feed when ah' can" she said and Tibbs wagered that any food
that Silo obtained was probably scraps.
It was The Splitter that spoke next.

"Khalamzadar IV's future was carved -just like the big guy above us, in stone by the Time
Weave. Like the Grand Coulee Dam I once saw, the Weave has blocked your particular
timeline and now the tributaries it has caused seep in ways nobody ever thought of.

Silo stretched out a grimy finger and began to draw in the dust, strange signs and glyphs
scored through the dried grains of dirt and Tibbs thought he recognised some of the scrawl.

"Aye, she knows what only demons should..." Matilda muttered "...the mad hear their
whispers -yer' know?" and looked at Adam and The Splitter for any sign of interest, all
eyes were on Silo's writing.

Yeneth smiled as he realised what Silo was saying in the soil, the wavy lines and the shapes
beneath them made his silver-dollar eyes glow and he spoke again.
"The crew of The Yydryl remain here and the planet develops in a more serene way than the
Euzkalians attempted. However... like the Columbia river, changes bring changes" he said
and kneeled close to the panting wild woman.

"Silo...? Silo can you hear me?" The Splitter whispered and lifted up the girl's chin from her
mud prose "How do we repair the Weave's damage?" Silo's eyes searched smooth-gray
features of the Time Mechanic's face as she processed the visitor's question.

The prairie wind parted the wild hair of the crazy prisoner and for the first time in a long
time, Silo's natural beauty peeked through, in that moment, Silo was perfectly coherent.