Through Your Eyes Page 17

  I started crawling to the edge of a viewing platform, where there was a small window overlooking London. I thought I might as well have a look outside and see if the city had been liberated from the madmen.

  The lights had gone out, and the river had returned to its darkness of the past. The faint tell-tale signs of sunrise could be seen on the horizon. Purples, yellows and reds in the sky, with high clouds glinting pink from the oncoming light. Could this be the new dawn for this city and the world?

  And the most important thing of all, I could hear people talking, some crying, some shrieking, but they were at least communicating with each other, which was a good start.

  At least Stowe had finally been stopped. Maybe if I managed to get out of here, I could retrace my steps and find the Professor's make shift laboratory in the cellar bar. Perhaps I could harness his equipment to get me home again, but firstly I had to try and survive, which didn't look too likely from where I was lying. I thought of what medical facilities might be here. However, despite the human destruction around me, I could hear no ambulances or emergency services being dispatched. They simply didn't exist in this timeline.

  My gaze started to cloud over and the image of the room started to spin round. I was really losing it and this was probably the final straight, I had nothing left. I was simply exhausted, I had no energy, I...

  I stopped and thought, trying to remember what the Professor had told me.

  'He had already shown me what I had to do.'

  And at that point it all started to come to me, it was absolutely ingenious, or more like ridiculously obvious! I recalled his escape from Stowe's torture room. He had used this residual energy he spoke of, but it had come from me. He hadn't used the device, just energy from the crystals. I was the trigger, he already had the battery.

  The crystals, those flipping crystals!

  I had them with me the whole time, having taken them from Siris' shop.

  I felt my jacket pocket, praying I still had them somewhere on my person. I fumbled around for a few minutes.

  So obviously, they were nowhere to be found, it would have been way too convenient to just pop them out of my pocket, and save myself there and then. They could have dropped out anywhere on my travels through space and time. I felt something else in my pocket, however, and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. As I opened it out, I realised with a heavy heart that it was the useless image of the Da Vinci man from the shop.

  It was then that I looked at again, really looked at the paper. The image was as it was, with the multiple signs over the body, of stars and eyes. However, I hadn't noticed them before, but could see faint swirling ribbons drawn in the background; how could I have missed them? One tiny ribbon swirled to form an arrow pointing to part of the man's flesh. Here, it was pointing at his leg.

  My arm.

  I searched on my belly for the crystals without any clear plan as to what I was going to do with any of them. They had to be here somewhere, fallen out of my jacket during the explosion.

  I looked under rubble and under bodies. I crawled through broken glass from the ceiling, but there was no pain that I felt now. As I crawled around, I realised to my horror there was a large smear of blood following me around, tracking my every move. However, this red paint was all coming from me; I had never imagined I would go into the painting and decorating business and definitely not in this fashion. I now realised that I had very little time left, so I stopped for a while, with my belly down, and with my head looking into the crater. As I looked down, I saw the same little lights flashing at the bottom, and I wondered what my next plan could possibly be. I realised I couldn't move anymore from the position I was in.

  And then I saw something.

  A ledge about twenty metres down, and on that ledge was the body of some poor soul destroyed by Stowe's machine, but next to him, I saw a small pouch.

  It was velvet and it looked like it was intact. It had to be the crystal pouch!

  My precious, I thought.

  My heart raced initially, and then felt like it had stopped. Even if I was fully fit, how would I get down there? I looked around and saw nothing but red lights fallen from the heads of the mob that had chased me. Then I thought a little. I grabbed a headset and stretched it out, it was about a metre long and it was very strong, made of some very tough synthetic cable. Simple, I just needed to tie some of these sets together to make myself a little rope.

  If only I hadn't lost a quarter of my blood volume.

  So I got to work while resting on my gut, like the 'Weaver of Raveloe,' grafting away without a rest, getting more and more tired.

  And I did it. It took me many hours of concentration and sore fingers, but I eventually did it.

  I tied it to a large wedge of concrete and dangled it down into the abyss. I looked down and took a deep breath. This was it, now or never.

  I grabbed hold with my goodish arm and shuffled down the side of the crater. I had expected to do some sort of gimpy abseiling, but this was abruptly halted as I realised to my horror the sides of the hole were made of nothing!

  Soft cinders and dust.

  I got down about five metres and then felt myself losing control, as I had no firm surface to push from, and fell the rest of the way, directly onto the ledge. I really need not have bothered with the cable tying if it was the direct option I was ultimately planning.

  I felt both my legs break, smashing into multiple pieces as I landed on hard ground.

  The pain was unbearable. I had one working limb left. An arm.

  I remembered the Monty Python sketch through my pain. Would I just have a functioning head left shortly?

  I could barely move through the pain, but little by little I grabbed for the pouch with two fingers and opened it. Thank goodness after all the effort, it was full. I placed the first crystal in my withered forearm, and it disappeared as soon as it entered the pouch. I hadn’t recalled them doing that the last time I had used one of them, so clearly I was in desperate need! I then placed a second and the same thing happened, so in went a third.

  I continued.

  The energy was coming back.

  I could feel pain again, which was a good thing under the circumstances, but even that started to go after a while, and I started to feel much better.

  Was I a crystal junkie? How many was I going to need to make such a big jump? The Professor had only leaped a short distance in space using the crystal; he hadn't had to tackle the concept of time.

  So I carried on. I was not really thinking about it anymore. The closest way to describe it was a strange light headedness, the odd sensation of noticing your brain feeling detached from the rest of your body; in other words, I was getting very, very high. The feeling was incredible and I couldn't stop myself, and to my surprise and serious concern, after sixty pleasant minutes, I realised I had emptied the bag.

  I lay on my back and breathed in the sulphurous air around me. It tasted bizarrely pleasant. Actually, I could now smell everything.

  The fallen blood around me.

  The smell of concrete smashed into glass.

  There was the aroma of fear and confusion coming from the thousands of people running out of the building. Free at last, but their minds muddled and mixed up, like eggs scrambled by a whisk.

  I could smell the stench of Stowe and his hatred.

  I could smell his death.

  And then I saw across this great city, and at the world waking up from its slumber. The sun was now fully shining in the sky.

  I heard people chattering outside.

  Of pasts and futures, and of what could still be.

  I was even more surprised when I realised I was standing, my broken bones no longer as broken as they had first appeared.

  And that was when I got really worried as I looked down at my healed arms.

  And I remembered the picture of the man on the paper.

  Of stars and eyes.

  And slowly, and insidiously, my skin was changing int
o patterns. The skin pouch for the crystals on my arm had closed.

  How would I remove the dead crystals? Was I about to corrode?

  I looked at the rest of my limbs and abdomen, and there were thousands of small patterns. Tiny, only two to three millimetres in diameter, but the patterns were easily discernible.

  'The Illustrated Man.’ A strange movie I had seen years ago. Was I this man?

  Or maybe Neo, from the 'Matrix' movies, only this was real and not CGI.

  And there was certainly no black Lycra.

  I closed my eyes. And only then could I see, the unfolding of events, from the past and the future. All simultaneously visible in my mind. I saw Gemma, the Professor, Siris, all these people that had come to mean so much to me after such a short time.

  And I now saw the origin of the whispers. They really had been with me ever since one eye Biehn had given me the device. They had been following me around the whole time.

  Singing to me.

  Talking to me.

  Angry with me.

  And I realised where the Professor had gone. To perhaps talk with them or even make a bargain. But he didn't understand who he was dealing with, for they would break any promise.

  They couldn't be trusted.

  So I moved.

  No peeling of edges this time.

  The broken atrium around me seemed to invert and twist, the layers of film appeared to have sub layers, almost like an onion peeling into smaller and smaller pieces. Green and golden lights appeared. Familiar. Warm.

  But it was different this time. I saw crimson lights, just as the Professor had warned me. And all the colours moved around me. Ribbons and curtains pulsating around my body, stretching and moving. Leading me.

  And then the most extraordinary thing of all. The ribbons changed. I was no longer holding them or aware of holding them. The energy from them was becoming part of me.

  I was the ribbon.

  And this ribbon started moving independently.

  With my will.

  29.

  My name is Professor Samuel Berner and I have arrived at my destination. I hope young Sam has got back safe and sound, and has thwarted the man called Smithwick.

  I have created technology that should have only remained in science fiction books. If I had known the result of my work would have been all that I have seen in the last twelve years, then I would have thrown it in the fire and taken up carpentry, or at least that was what a very famous physicist had once said about the atom bomb.

  I am here now, but I don’t know where now is, and I don't know when this place is.

  This place is the furthest I have ever gone, and yet it feels nearby and familiar. It is far in the future, or it could be in the past, or it could represent the present as I stand in my tattered shoes.

  It is completely dark here, but I believe I have arrived where I wish to be.

  There is something here. I hear them and I feel them, but when I turn, I don't see them. They exist and yet they don't. They see, yet they are blind.

  They are the ladies that have been here since the beginning of time. They are the mistresses of rhyme, insidious, are these sisters of crime.

  And so, our conversation starts in song, I try to join them, knowing it is wrong.

  I have spoken to the voices here, and they say they understand my fear.

  They have taken a look at my device, and they are willing to offer me a price.

  As long as I do not reveal, any details of our deal.

  They are very interested in what I have to say, and have invited me to stop for the day.

  They say, that I am quite unique, and would like to wait and take a peek.

  At what I claim, I have to offer, this girl, this woman, this lady I proffer.

  I tell them that I am willing to start, as long as I get back my only heart.

  They chant and they sing their eerie song, echoing in your mind and feeling wrong.

  And when it's time to shut your eyes, you can still hear their little spies.

  Listening to your every thought, and beating your mind until it is completely taught.

  They have seen her, and they like her, and they would like to make a deal in lieu.

  They have told me I can have her once more, but as long as my bargain is true.

  They have said that I can go ahead, and I can have the device back to use.

  But on the condition it bears their hallmark, and that I offer something in return to peruse.

  I have asked them what they would like to see, and they cackle and they laugh with glee.

  And then they turn around to look at me, and sing the following riddle for free.

  ‘Have your box and place your bet, but ensure your offer is truly met.

  And if we require something back, we can always put you on our rack.

  And take you and yours in return, piece by piece, until you scream and burn.

  Let us call it her eye for your eye.' And at that point I realise my end is finally nigh.

  And I know what they want and crave, for they are blind and want to see.

  And what better way but to use my eye, so they can see through hers for free.

  They gather and fight, right in my face, spinning lies around this ghastly place.

  They prod and poke, and laugh and joke, until I surrender and lose this final race.

  And then they take what they have asked for, and I realise they will be asking for more.

  As they give me back my girl, the unfortunate results slowly unfurl.

  And to my horror, I realise my lady is at war.

  She smiles, and she doesn't smile.

  She looks, and she doesn't look.

  She sees, and then she doesn't see.

  She lives, and yet she gives, the feeling that she is now to me, what she never used to be.

  And I think to myself as I see, dead or alive she must come with me.

  30.

  And I stopped, abruptly.

  I was still Sam Berner, lowly physicist, and nervous of dates and girls.

  But everything was different now.

  I could see.

  There was no sickness and no dizziness. I had just stopped and I was in one piece.

  I was back where it had all started.

  Watching and observing.

  The whispers around me were getting clearer and clearer.

  The noises changed to words, and the words changed to songs.

  I stood outside the flat in the alleyway, watching as Sam went in with the girl. They went upstairs to the flat.

  I was eerily watching myself in action.

  They were safe for the moment, so I now moved down the street. The taxi hut was familiar, but when I moved this time, the man behind the booth didn't notice me at all. It was as if I didn't even exist. I think I preferred it when he had pulled the shutters down on me!

  I continued, and got to the road behind my favourite Chinese takeaway, with the smells and rubbish bins. It was still closed. Did this place ever open?

  I looked down to the end of the side road, and saw a familiar figure lying in a heap on the floor, only this time, I didn't mistake him for a pile of old clothes.

  I walked down to him and pulled him up. He looked at me and grimaced in pain. I shook his hand firmly to try to help him. To see what he had left in him, for his journey had been huge, but his sacrifice had been colossal. Unfortunately, he had nothing left to give when he looked up at me.

  He sat up, and a glimmer of a smile stretched across his face.

  "Hello, Professor," I said to him.

  I touched his forehead and his skin was icy, and I realised it was already too late for him. He had sacrificed everything for her, and it hadn't quite worked out the way he had hoped.

  "Hello Sam, you got back, I knew you would," he said warmly, but with a very weak voice.

  He continued, "You were right, Sam, I shouldn’t have tried to get her back. I kept my side of the bargain, yet look at what they took from me
."

  He pointed to his eye, and now I understood his withered right hand. I could finally see through his eyes. The pain of thrusting his hand into the booby trapped power core.

  He had done it all for us.

  He was a hero.

  "I just wanted her back," he said. "It was always about her!"

  One eye, but tears were rolling down both his cheeks. I carried on stroking his head.

  "You won’t need this thing anymore," I said, as I took his device from the withered hand.

  "You can't use it now, and we don't want anyone else getting hold of it."

  He grimly nodded as I put it under my shoe, smashing it into pieces.

  He said, "There is one thing I would like you to do. I know, I can sense there is something different about you. I sense the sacrifice you have also made, but I would like it when you find her, to be gentle with her. Look after her, for she is very fragile."

  "And see if you can undo my bargain with them. Those sisters are not to be trusted. They wanted more and didn't fulfil their promise to me," he said.

  He paused to cough violently and I stroked his cheek until he had calmed.

  "Be careful, for they will play with your mind. They will try to get you to play their game. To sing their songs."

  "I know. I know where she is. I understand it all. I know who she is and where she has been. She has been with me the whole time, right from the very beginning," I replied.

  He looked at me and nodded.

  I said, "She has been whispering to me all this time. The duat would not let her go with you, but it seems she was allowed to help me. To warn me. I owe everything to her and will look after her. So you see your sacrifice was not in vain."

  He smiled at me as I stroked his head for the last time, as he slowly passed away in my arms.

  He had used so much energy moving backwards and forwards in time that his whole body had given up. His physical presence was plainly destroyed, and when I looked again, all that was left of him were some empty rags and a coat.

  I stood up and knew I would have to pay a visit to these sisters.

  However, first I had a prior, very important engagement at a very familiar flat, right at the very beginning of my story. If I was right, we were about to be paid a visit by an old familiar face.