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Part 1

“Think of reality,” the Mage said, gesturing towards the window at the city now bathed in evening darkness. Sparkling pinpricks of light on the ground reflected those of the sky. The moon hung low, having just risen over the horizon. “As a circle.”

“A line consisting of infinite points that begins and ends at the same point and in which each of these infinite points is equidistant from the center of the circle.”

“That’s just the definition of a circle,” The Writer countered.

“Yes. Now, say for example that each one of those lines which touches a single point is one version of reality. We have an infinite number of possibilities, yes?”

“If you consider reality a line, sure.”

The Mage smiled slightly, “This is a very simple example. Now, here is a trick question: how many lines can be created in, say, a one-degree slice of this circle? Between, say, point A on the circle and point B?”

“There would be an infinite number of lines.”

“Yes, but there are an infinite number of lines around the circumference of the circle. An infinity within an infinity. Now, imagine drawing another circle with the same centerpoint — only larger. Would you say that there are more lines than the smaller circle?”

“I suppose so. It’s bigger so there are more points and lines.”

The Mage raised a finger, “But both are infinity. In fact, there are many infinities implied. The number of points, of lines, of circles themselves.” He tilted his head slightly at the Writer’s expression. “I explain all of this so that you understand how there are many hundreds of thousands of incursions into this reality by others. Also, why there aren’t more.”

“I don’t think I get that.”

“The one-degree arc I posited in our example generously represents a universe and world that can support life. That angle is more point one million zeros, and then a six.”

“Six.”

“Honestly, I have no idea, but I promise you it’s about that value.” The Mage frowned to himself. “Regardless of the actual mathematical possibility of the hospitality of any given universe, the farther away from that arc, the harder it is for life as we experience it can survive. This is not just temperature or sunlight, this is chemical dynamics, gravity — the rules of nature we take for granted. The farther away from that arc, water no longer floats when frozen, it’s, some other molecule. And on the other side of that circle, is a world and experience so alien that I do not pretend to know what can be expected there.”

“I don’t understand that either. You’re saying that on this circle of realities theory, there are worlds so alien to ours that they, what, just don’t bother to come here?”

“Exactly. What would be the point? We have nothing that they want. The things that we think are importan are so different that there is no competition for any sort of resource, social or physical.”

“But you said that there are infinities within infinities, wouldn’t that — I mean…” The Writer frowned as he worked his mind around a concept that the Mage seemed to have long since understood and accepted. “There are… An infinite number of you and me with slight universe differences sitting and having this exact conversation.”

“Just so,” the Mage replied with a nod.

“So if there was one such incursion, someone decided to come here to, I don’t know, blow up a building, why aren’t there an infinite number of people here planning to blow up buildings?”

“That is a very astute question. So, what do we know about the nature of existing that is a universal constant that would prevent such a tremendous paradox?”

The Writer paused as he thought. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally.

“Nor do I,” the Mage said, finally. “And it is questions like those, to which I have no answer, which may have contributed to the Event.”

“You knew what we were dealing with — you have top clearance. Didn’t you even take the time to look at the files available to you now?” Jenna was saying to Henry ans Michelle and I approached.

“Yeah, I did, but we were only supposed to be providing support!” Henry protested. He spotted us approaching and bit off his next words. Nearby a series of tents covering excavation equipment stood. Beneath, who I guessed to be men and women being paid by the government to research the tomb.

I suppose Jenna wasn’t going to let Henry off that easy. “Oh come on, Henry, man up. We’re on the ground floor of this Area 51 project and you want to back out because-”

“Because no one said anything about freaky shadow-things going around and turning people into swiss cheese.”

I stepped forward, aiming to put their mind at ease but Michelle grabbed me by the arm and directed me toward the tents. That hindsight again. I don’t believe Henry was talking about himself, but for the Harkens’ son who, at the time, stood next to the tents, fiddling with a computer.

“Why are you using a fifty-thousand dollar machine to check your Facebook!?” A scientist shooed him away.

The rain left its mark on the camp. Everything not covered — which was only a few lawn chairs and vehicles, was wet. The ground damp. Beyond the tents a large mound jutted up from the ground nearly 20 feet high. Covering an entire face of the mound was a massive stone covered in soil. Here and there I could make out some of the Sumerian markings from the briefing.

At the base of the mound and the foot of the stone slab, a hole about the size of a man with rough, jagged edges provided a view into the darkness. Several men and women stood, looking at a screen a few feet away from the hole. A coil of cord lay at their feet.

“Get them away from there,” I said sharply. I prefer it if people simply left the strange things to me, death has a much harder time finding the prepared.

Michelle flashed her badge and it was done. The scientists looked on, annoyed but, I suspect, unsurprised as we went to the screen. “So, what do you think?”

“I think you need to talk to Henry and Jenna. I have no idea why you brought Aiden along with us. He’s-”

“Valentine, don’t be dis-”

“A child.” I glanced over at her from the screen. “I would think that you had better respect for children and their safety.”

“And that’s the reason why he’s with us. There are other Offices in the Department who have other ideas in the application of his talent.” Michelle answered easily, as if she’d already considered the implication. Which, to be honest, was a bit of a disappointment, I was aiming for a zinger.

“I see.” I didn’t.

“You don’t. He’s with his family here under me. If he wants to go into military service like the Army and Navy are pressing on him. They were even willing to waive his enlistment age.” I must have seemed confused. “That boy can lift nearly a thousand pounds and not bat an eye. He can jump fifteen feet from standing. And, near as I can tell, he hasn’t been sick a day in his life. He’s the superman that the government has been waiting for and the only reason why he isn’t out in the desert somewhere is because I got you.”

“What do you mean… Got me?”

“My office has an alien, Charles. A superhuman, Aiden. And a mage, you. The only way I can keep any of you under control is by having the other two.” She glanced away from the screen to me and smiled. “At least, that’s what I told them.”

She really, truly, is fantastic at her job. “Now I see.”

“So what are we looking at?” She frowned as we stared at the screen. It looked to be a video feed of a rock.

“No idea.”

“Probably should have asked before we took over,” she muttered. With a sigh, she turned and addressed the cluster of scientists standing to the side. “Who is in charge here?”

“Dr. Kobashigawa,” a man said as he approached. All lab coat and glasses, I could tell you exactly what he looked like save for the fact that it is not important to this story. Though I suppose the name Kobashigawa is a bit long for the purposes of this retelling.

“Dr. Kobe,” the man said.

“What are we lookin-”

“I need to get into the tomb,” I cut her off. “Make sure no one comes in behind me. Get on whatever hotline you government types have and get something out here that can blow that stone into rubble.”

Dr. Kobe seemed too stunned to speak. I grabbed an open notebook from the table and gestured to the untranslated Sumerian text scribbled across it. “You took this down?” When Dr. Kobe nodded, still unable to summon the powers of speech, I continued. “Well, then, I’ll save you decades of study. It says to keep this tomb sealed because, and I’m paraphrasing from a thirty-thousand year old language, ‘The destruction of the world sleeps within.’”

“We’d translated ‘world’, but the rest…” Dr. Kobe began. I ignored him.

“Officer Williams, when a mysterious tomb says to keep it sealed because world destruction lies within, it is generally a good idea to heed the warning,” I glanced at the screen again then, not seeing what I wanted, began to sift through the printouts on the table. I finally found what I wanted after a moment – a map of the tomb and the route the remote controlled robot camera had taken through the tomb. “I’m going in.”

“Hold it!” Michelle said sharply. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Something in the tomb of world destruction crawled out through solid stone. We have shadow creatures traipsing around the nearby town and we have spheres of…things disappearing. Currently, we have an open tomb which needs to be closed but first I need some answers.”

“Answers. In all that dust and debris?” Michelle countered, though she seemed resigned to the thought of not completely understanding the situation — for now. “I can get ordinance here in six hours.”

“Do it.”

“You can’t! This is one of the most important archeological finds in…Ever! You can’t simply destroy it! For heaven’s sake, the Sumerians were here–in America!” Dr. Kobe took up the notebook I’d just translated from and gazed upon it as if it was the relic it represented.

“You’ll always have the memories,” Michelle said as she dialed a number on her phone. She brought it to her ear and offered the scientist a slight smile, “And the National Secrecy contract you signed.”

Part 2

“You would destroy something of such historical value?” the Writer asked.

“If it meant the safety of the world, certainly. I’ve done it before and I would not hesitate in doing it again.” The Mage paused, considering his own words. “Mind you, I do respect art and history. I simply don’t value it more than human life.”

“I see,” the Writer replied, nodding. “It sounds reasonable given all that you’ve done in time.”

“True enough.” The Mage reached forward and took his glass in hand. He frowned at it. “You know, the service here is usually much better.”  He glanced over to the door where a waitress stood and he raised his empty glass. She disappeared into the kitchen beyond.

The Mage set the glass down, sighing. “Did you know I was the original model for Michelangelo’s David? I quit a few hours in — the process was tedious and, well, I did have quite a few things I needed to accomplish.”

“You met Michelangelo?” The Writer stared at the Mage, incredulous.

“You really should stop being surprised, given the nature of our discussion,” the Mage replied, chuckling softly. The waitress reappeared and refilled both of their glasses with a chilled metal decanter. “I thought him an ordinary artist at the time. Though, granted, he was well-known in his own right…” He paused to drink from his glass. “But the tomb was not built by an artist.”

And it was not built by those mourning the death of a great lord. It was built by men and women terrified of what was lain within. Men and women who took steps, even to travel across the seas to an unknown land to bury it. To ensure that there would be no accidental chance of someone finding the tomb and trying to rob it of treasure that was not there.

The taste of the air was familiar, as from an old memory, barely remembered but immensely important. As I stood just inside of the gaping wound of an entrance, I allowed my eyes to relax and adjust. I allowed my mind to slow and quiet. My breath to come even and measured. Then… Light.

The darkened chamber became bright as my eyes… Shifted. The process is complicated and involves the concept of absolute location of solid matter in the application of physics and chaos theory — essentially I can see in absolute darkness as reliably as I can in light.

“Can you hear me, Valentine?” came Michelle’s voice in my ear.

“Yes, clearly.” She’d given me an electronic device to put into my ear before entering the tomb.

“Good. There are relays along the cord of the remote camera so as long as you stay close to that we should remain connected.”

“Got it.”

“Be careful.”

These sorts of tombs follow the same general patterns throughout time with some measure of variation according to culture, time and location. This proved to be one of the larger complexes but no more complicated than anything else I’ve encountered. Though what was remarkably different was the lack of dust and debris.

Essentially, the tomb looked as if it had just been built. None of the walls or tunnels had collapsed beneath the inexorable forces of time and pressure. I made my way through the entrance chamber and through the labyrinthine tunnels and ways to arrive at the central chamber, where, as tradition would present, the person to whom the tomb belonged. Or, in this case, the danger that the capstone warned of.

The chamber was massive, nearly two hundred meters from the entryway I stood in and one hundred to both sides. In the center of the room on a raised stone platform and pedestal sat a simple stone sphere. The entirety of it looked much like a football stadium with a single pawn chess piece sitting in its center.

“This is not good,” I muttered, then jumped as Michelle responded.

“What is that?”

“How can you see this?” I asked, glancing about for the small robotic camera they’d used to scope through the tomb days before.

“There is a camera on the earpiece I gave it. It is on the portion that hangs over your ear. It’s sending infrared light out-”

“I get it, it’s night vision,” I said, a bit too harshly imagine because Michelle didn’t say anything in return for several moments.

I stepped forward, into the massive dark chamber and approached the sphere upon the pedestal. “I’ve seen this before,” I muttered softly, again, mostly to myself. I took a deep breath and spoke three syllables.

On the other end of the line I heard Dr. Kobe chuckle and Michelle query him.

“It’s Sumerian and loosely translates into “open sesame,”" he said, then fell silent as the chamber began to brighten.

Light erupted across the walls in swirling, pulsating colors. The stale, still air shifted violently as the stone that made up the chamber floor fell away, revealing still more shafts of light, blazing in blue and white.

The pedestal remained where it was, but it shifted, becoming metallic, emanating a strange, vibrating sound that spoke of ethereal music and soul. “Now I remember,” I said.

“Valentine,” came Michelle’s stern voice over the earpiece. I wasn’t listening.

There are five-hundred and sixty one forms of technology I actively sabotage across the world to ensure that mankind does not destroy itself. One of those technologies is to change one form of matter into another, which is, essentially, what this entire chamber did in the span of a few seconds. But it had been so long since I’d seen it, seen this particular place, that I did not put two and two together.

“It’s a tower,” I said softly. “It’s a mage tower.”

Part 3

Tome, River, Train 3

“Really,” the Writer said, frowning. “Open sesame?”

The Mage regarded him, curious. “Out of all of that, you latch on to ‘Open sesame’?”

The Writer gestured for the Mage to continue.

“A tower?!” Dr. Kobe exclaimed. There was clattering and I assume he’d taken up the microphone. “Where did it come from?”

I ignored him. The answer is obvious: the tower came from elsewhere. But it wasn’t the insanity of his voice that touched me; it was what was happening inside the tower that caught my attention.

A woman had appeared next to the pedestal, leaning against the sphere. Her skin was dark, as if she’d spent most of her time in the sun. Her hair, dark as night. Her eyes, brilliant blue and slightly upturned at the corners, regarded me, and she seemed supremely amused.

“So,” she said, her voice echoing throughout the chamber. “That was a nasty bit of business with that blade, Amon.”

“I am called Elijah,” I corrected her. Apprehension grew within my chest, spreading icy fingers through my body. She wasn’t supposed to be here. “Rhianna, was all of that your doing?”

“Mmm, I haven’t been called that in ages…” She stretched, but never broke contact with the sphere. “Elijah, then. Tell me, how is savior work going these days? I can’t imagine it pays very much.”

“Are the shadows and spheres your doing, Rhianna?” She was trying to goad me, to distract me, perhaps.

“Obviously. Oh and did you know just how long it took me to find this tower? Clever clever. But I found it in the end.”

Memories. Old, old memories. Terrible memories. Of humanity and those who ruled over them. Of the beings whose purpose turned from protection to subjugation. The terrible war… “I would have thought you had the sense to change your ways.”

“Oh no no no. Where’s the fun in that?” She peered at me carefully. “You always did coddle them unnecessarily.”

“Rhianna, this is my domain and my responsibility. You will leave at once.” There was little else I could do to threaten her, but perhaps I could bluff her long enough to see her return to her dimension.

Rhianna watched me with those eerie blue eyes. “Oh. No. I’m just getting started, Elijah. You see, I needed you down here, deep within the tower and its pretty gleaming walls. It’s protective walls…”

“Oh my god,” Dr. Kobe said over the microphone. “Oh god.”

“Valentine.” The word was a whip crack.

“Away from all of your clever devices and technologies investigating this trite little town,” Rhianna said slowly, her eyes narrow and malicious, though the unmistakable tone of triumph sang through her voice. “Truth or Consequences. What a brilliant name.”

“What have you done?” I said, striding forward. But stopped as she lifted an admonishing finger.

“We’ll speak again, Amon.”

“Rhianna, the war is over.”

Rhianna shook her head slowly. “No, Amon. It isn’t.”

And the chamber darkened quickly. Initially I thought she’d set the tower to return to its previous state, but, no. Shadows played across the illuminated stones, drawing like ink out of solid matter. The unnatural, alien nothingness took form all around me.

I turned back to the pedestal, but Rhianna was gone.

“Valentine.” Michelle’s voice was insistent.

I ignored her. Their shadow forms were approaching through the darkness, limbs tapered into sharp, vicious points. I reached into the inner pocket of my jacket and produced the knife. Then, they sped forward, their blank, featureless forms displaying no emotion on their completely smooth and featureless faces.

The knife elongated as I brought it up to counter the first incoming blow. The tip of the dagger appendage sailed off, sparking. “Machines, then.” Killing machines rarely had true sentience, so I did not feel guilty for destroying these.

Then they all sprang forward.

It is difficulty to tell you exactly what happened in those few seconds, partly because so many things happened. The knife, turned sword in my hand flashed as I moved, ducking, striking, spinning. The first shadow that had attacked collapsed into a heap as I cleaved it in two. The next tried to drive a few strikes home, but the blade severed each dagger as it approached. And then, the rest came.

Shadow after shadow came forward only to be repelled or destroyed by the inexorable tide of my blade. And then, it was over.

The low thrumming sound of extremely slowed human speech sped to normal tempo. “What the hell?”

“What was that?” came Michelle’s voice.

“It was a glitch. Everything went mad for a second,” came another voice. Not Dr. Kobe’s.

“Valentine.”

“We have a problem,” I said, cutting Michelle off. “Rhianna is up to something and she brought us here to distract us from whatever it is.”

“I think we have an idea.”

Again, icy apprehension surged through me. “The shadows… Is anyone hurt up there?”

“No, we’re fine. But it’s Tokyo…” Michelle trailed off, as if she did not quite know how to put into words the news she had.

I hurried through the tomb, backtracking, making my way to the surface. “Is it being attacked?”

“No. Not quite.” Michelle took a deep breath over the open com. “Lorenzo just confirmed on satellite imaging. Tokyo is gone.”

Part 4

An entire city was gone, simply vanished from the face of the earth. In its place was a shallow, lens-shaped depression revealing the rich, dark soil of the ground that had been beneath. The edges of the lens were perfect, solid lines as if crafted and intentional. Which I knew had been.

I stared at the fly-over feed as a Chinese military helicopter flew over the spot where Tokyo once stood. “She had another device,” I muttered. Why hadn’t I considered this? If there was one, there had to be another or even a third.

I closed my eyes to think. Around me, the men and women of the research team assigned to the displaced Sumerian tomb stood, speaking softly.

“We need to get back to D.C.,” I said, finally. Michelle, grim-faced as ever, had been silent since I’d arrived back at the research camp.

“The ordinance is here,” Henry said, jogging up to the tent from a collection of large camouflaged trucks parked a distance away from the research camp. “Do you want them to get started setting charges?”

There was as much trouble in people making their way into the tomb as much as there was of things getting out. I nodded. “Seal it up. When this is all done, I’ll deal with it myself.”

The Mage paused to take a sip from his glass. “I imagine you read about Tokyo.”

“And I saw the films,” the Writer offered. “How did an entire city disappear?”

“It was stolen and held in stasis. I know you’ve seen the adventure films where the Tokyo inhabitants make their way back with ingenuity and determination, but in reality it was far more complicated.” The Mage nodded, as if answering a question. “That was when I realized that things were a great deal more dire than mischievous demons.”

They talked. And conjectured. And theorized. And talked. And talked. And talk. “Quiet,” I said finally. “You are all like… Children speaking about the beauty of Euclidean geometry and the finer points of Shakespeare’s works. Just… But quiet for a moment.”

I fell into the silence that followed, allowing my mind to expand outward, growing beyond the capacity that was required for the day-to-day life on Earth. Past what you understand to be genius and into… Something else. It is not something I can describe to you in any reliable terms. But to show you would be so detrimental to your own life as to seem pointless in this setting.

When I returned my focus back to the small research camp, the others — the archeologists and geologists that made up the research team dispatched and the small team of misfits that Michelle had assembled — stared at me, silent, expectant. Aiden still on that damned device.

“Jenna, get on the line with Lorenzo. I need as much seismographic, meteorologic, psychic, whatever information sent to my personal offices. Michelle, we don’t have time to drive back to the airport.”

“The helicopter is already on its way. What do we do about the tomb?”

“Seal it.”

Michelle brought her cell phone to her ear, “Mr. Strathmore.”

Henry was in action as soon as she spoke, gesturing for the caravan of military camouflaged vehicles to approach. As they did, Michelle looked toward me. “What’s the plan?”

“I’m not sure. But Rhianna said a few things that have given me pause. In particular, she referenced my tools and devices.” I shook my head. “Not that I particularly understand how she knows about these things, but I need to get back to my workroom in DC.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised you have a workroom.” Michelle lifted her cell phone to her ear, issuing a few additional, stern commands. I wondered at this, I hadn’t even seen her dial — and I am extremely observant. As she did this, I took the opportunity to look around the research tents. When she was done, she looked at me, ready to speak, but I cut her off.

“Where is Dr. Kobe?”

“Resting. He became dizzy after we heard the news about Tokyo,” Michelle explained. “Tell me about this Rhianna–Is she some one we need to worry about?”

“Almost certainly. Given she did just make an entire city disappear.”

“How can we stop her?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?” I paused, trying to put into words what I knew so that she could understand. “Rhianna is… A queen of sorts. She has everything that she could conceivably want. Every desire made real within her own domain. There is a saying that absolute power corrupts absolutely. This is not true. It is in the complete absence of suffering are life forms corrupted.”

Michelle frowned. “I don’t think I get that one. Without suffering everything would be better.”

“In a world without emotion, yes. There are worlds out there that have achieved this utopia but its inhabitants have no free will. How can one enjoy perfection if one cannot make a choice to do so? But that’s not the issue here. With Rhianna, she exists in a reality where she, an emotional being, lives at the head of an entire civilization whose only purpose is to do her bidding.

“Now, think about that for a moment. What sort of entertainment might there be? What enjoyment can you experience after millennia of getting exactly what you want? Without the contrast of suffering. With the concept of right and wrong slowly becoming non-existent, if you had the opportunity to move into another plane of existence, what would you do?”

Michelle’s frown deepened, “You mean she’s a sociopath.”

I sighed, “In a way–brought into simplicity, yes.”

“So how do we stop her?” Michelle repeated. It is this statement, this single-minded determination that made Michelle Williams such an asset. I could have kissed her.

“We can’t.”

“Can’t, Mr. Valentine, is not in my vocabulary. How do we stop her?”

“We can’t stop her exactly, but we can prevent her from-” Just then a massive explosion roared through the camp, sending the assembled men and women scattering. I waited, standing against the concussive force.

As Michelle got to her feet, she searched for Henry Strathmore, who was jogging back to the research tents to us. “What was that?” She demanded.

Henry gestured to the smoldering pile that was the tomb of Rhiannon the Fourth. “Sealing up the tomb as ordered.”

“While we were standing this close to the explosion? Are you mad?”

“I figured a few hours of ringing ears would be worth it if it prevented some alien woman from making another city disappear,” he replied. It seemed reasonable enough