The Quantum Prophecy by Ryan Matthew Harker (best books to read non fiction txt) 📕

had recognized it just as Jeshux did. Fear had clutched at his heart and without pause, he ordered his men forward.
Unfortunately he and his men had reached the peak of the great spire just as the last werewolf loped across the landing, up a ramp and off the edge. Only McAriicoys and he had reached the ledge in time to watch it disappear through the Harashna but stunned only for an instant Jeshux immediately called for volunteers to follow him into the insane vortex of color.
Most decent folk would have said that Jeshux was the insane one. The fearless few, those that had survived the battle to stand on the Doom Tower’s parapet, knew better than that. They knew he would never order any of them to leave their homes or families against their wills and so every man standing had raised his hand. Regardless of what kind of ungodly hell they may have been destined for, they had all been willing to follow their leader into Death’s cold embrace. Jeshux had been warmed to the very core of his being at the many displays of love, loyalty and courage standing before him that day. Small liquid jewels of pride had crept from his eyes when he had been forced to choose his honor guard from those unnaturally brave souls before him. Blood spattered and tired Jeshux chose his men and sent the remainder of with McAriicoys to make a report to their employers. He then returned his gaze to the unnatural swirl below but only for a moment. Battered the military commander let loose a resounding war cry and led them whose lives had just become forfeit through the portal to what could have been damnation.
Jeshux was startled out of his reverie by a light tapping on his shoulder. He turned and was greeted by the grim countenance of McAriicoys. Lack of sleep creased his face and deep shadows lived under his eyes.
“What is it?” Jeshux inquired.
“We’ve recovered the trail sir.”
“Good. Prepare a squad and proceed.
“Sir, you realize that there’s something strange about this target.”
“Yes.”
“And then you realize that this target is like no other that we’ve encountered before.”
“Of course I do McAriicoys. We wouldn’t put so much effort into its capture if it was ordinary would we?”
“No sir, I imagine we wouldn’t,” McAriicoys frowned and rubbed his eyes. “We would just eliminate it like any other.”
Jeshux placed his hand on the weary man’s shoulder. “Old friend I know you’re tired, so am I, but if we capture this creature we may find a powerful new ally in our fight against the Black Sorcerer. And if not an ally, then we’ll gain new information, valuable information about our enemy that we cannot afford to be without.”
Jeshux smiled. He and McAriicoys went back a long time, centuries in fact and he had never looked so tired. He knew that McAriicoys would follow him into the depths of Hell, had in fact on several occasions. McAriicoys smiled back and Jeshux knew his weariness was just a reflection of his own.
“I understand what’s at stake here sir.”
Jeshux laugh barked out wild and uncontrollable. “Of course you do my friend.” He bit back his laughter with effort. “Of all of the men under my command there are few who measure up, that I call friend. You are one of three and number one of those three at that.”
Something had drained out of McAriicoys at the sound of his commander’s laughter and was replaced with the meaning in his friend’s words.
“Yes Sir!” McAriicoys threw a salute, turned and strode from Jeshux presence.
Jeshux sighed and walked over to an old padded chair. He sat down heavily and surveyed his surroundings. Besides the chair, the rooms only other furnishings were a small fold out table that was used as a desk and a five-foot tall fluorescent lamp. An old and crumpled map of the United States was tacked to the wall behind the table.
After their target had left the city it had become harder to track, almost as if it knew it was being followed. His men were all professionals extremely skilled, there was not any way the target should have known it was being followed. But it seemed that somehow it did.
They used infrared equipped micro-cameras mounted in ultra-light mini-chassis’ designed as a multitude of indigenous insects. They used dragonflies and wasps primarily because they were known for being quick and agile. Even when they lost first person line of sight they could still, from images received at Base Command, coordinate their movements with the target’s and stay on track. They also had at their disposal the use of ultra sensitive super snuffers. These machines were modeled on the workings of a bloodhound’s nose but infinitely more fine-tuned. So in the event that all else failed they could still work off of the musk that such a creature inadvertently left in its wake as it traveled. Still it eluded them.

*****

Candlelite awoke and it was dark. He almost panicked until he realized he was indoors. He was in a bed. It was warm. There was a scent of another man in the room but not with him now. All of these impressions hit him at the same time, one after another. His new senses, combined with his new instincts, worked uncannily to update him on his situation. He knew everything about his surroundings as could be ascertained with five senses in a matter of seconds.
He had an IV in his arm but it did not bother him.
The pain was still there but far away now, like the sun on a late autumn day. He tried carefully to sit up and found that he was able. He did a quick inventory of himself and was surprised to find that he was quite healed. Looking over he saw a hand held mirror sitting on the nightstand next to him. He grabbed it. What he saw shocked him. He had four long slashes going down the right side of his face, about eighty- percent healed. And his eye showed the barest hint of discoloration. He was famished, how long had he been out? It must have been for a while.
The door opened and Candlelite put the mirror down. A man walked in that looked familiar but he could not quite place him.
“Ah, I see you’re awake,” the man said. His voice was pleasant enough but there was something odd about it that Candlelite immediately identified as barely concealed shock.
He placed the voice at once though and said, “Hello Max. I’m feeling much better now.”
“Obviously,” Max replied.
There was still something odd in the other man’s voice so Candlelite gestured around the room, palm flat to the ceiling. “Thank you for taking care of me for so long. All of this must have put you out some.”
Max shook his head, “Not at all, not at all. In fact I’m astonished to see you in such a fit condition so soon.”
A narrowing of his eyes said what Candlelite’s voice did not, “What do you mean, sir? Exactly how long have I been here? From what I remember of before and the condition I’m in now, I would have to say a few weeks at the very least.”
Max pulled a stool from the corner and sat down next to the bed. He sat there quietly, saying nothing but looking with intense, analytical eyes at Candlelite. His eyes magnified behind the lenses of his glasses seemed to speak volumes about his ignorance and curiosity.
Candlelite became a little uneasy under the little man’s steady gaze and finally spoke again, “Well? How long have I been here man, longer than three weeks, four, five weeks, longer than five weeks? Tell me.”
Seeming to come to his senses Max shook his head slightly and took a deep breath before speaking, “Just a little bit over thirty six hours. It took me longer to bring you back, about three days or so since I picked you up after the bear attack and I was almost two in the rescue. It has been approximately six days since the bear first tore into you.”
Candlelite could do nothing but gape inanely at the man before him. His jaw fell open in shock and he could not say anything. Six days, how could that be? There was no way possible that he could feel as good as he felt in that amount of time, was there? Yet there had been nothing in Max’s speech or manner to even remotely suggest that he revealed anything but the truth, and besides what could possibly be gained from lying about something like that. Candlelite had known he was going through a major change in his life but nothing had happened to prepare him for something like this.
And speaking of changes. “Max,” he managed to say. “Could you humor me a little and give me the blow by blow of the days I’ve missed? Just from your point of view, for perspective. I’ve never experienced anything like this before.”
“Is that so?” Max looked at him a bit skeptically.
Candlelite crossed his heart with one hand, “Honest Max, never.”
Max took a deep breath and stared at Candlelite hard. The boy was hiding something. Max did not think he meant any harm by it but all the same it was a little disconcerting, like he was being felt out. But Max was also sure that the young man before him knew next to nothing about where he was or the significance of the installation he was in. He felt in order to convey the tale accurately Candlelite needed to know why he (Max) was there, in the middle of nowhere and keeping an endless vigil so far from any person or other means of companionship. That and the fact he had not talked to anyone but himself in over sixty years! So he began first by telling Candlelite the origin of the Complex.
“Let me start from the beginning but not my beginning. You see a long time ago there was a man, he had an obsession. He believed there were other worlds besides the one he lived in. An infinite number of worlds in fact and absolutely none of them were any further away than the Earth itself, at least not in the conventional sense of distance as we usually think of it. No ungodly distances of cold, harsh space to traverse. No precious fuel to conserve in fragile ships manned by incompetent fools. It would be just as simple to get to any one of these worlds as stepping off a curb, walking through a door or any other of a number of analogous comparisons. This man believed this theory so wholeheartedly that he dedicated his entire life and accumulated fortune to the fruition of his dream. His name was Emelious Emerous Empliozio and when he dreamed he dreamed in dimensions.”
“Not your normal dimensions though; space, time, first through fourth and all of that.” Max was trying to keep it all in lay terms for Candlelite's understanding. “But it was in the parallel that he specialized in. A world, or worlds, that ran on the same principals and concepts of our own when dealing with nature and all of her laws. Worlds traveling down similar time streams as our own and yet, in the same breath, these worlds also managed to somehow occupy the same space as our own. A world if you will that we could, with our power and our technology, exploit for fun and profit.”
“Yes that's right, fun and profit. You see boy; Emelious Emerous Empliozio was a cruel, ruthless and greedy SOB. He would take advantage of anyone and anything; at any time or any place; for good