Date: Mon, 4 Apr 2022 23:50:04 +0000 (UTC) From: Samuel Stefanik Subject: Crown Vic to a Parallel World: The Beginning. Chapter 32 Welcome to Chapter 32! Well, we've been climbing and camping and even had a steamy soak. I wonder what we'll do next. Have a look and see. If you're younger than 18 or find these kinds of stories offensive, please close up now and have a great day! If you are of legal age and are interested, by all means keep going. I'll be glad to have you along for the journey. Please donate to Nifty. This is a great resource for great stories and a useful outlet to authors like me and readers like you. 32 A Quarry and The Grey We spent the morning on the cliff, climbing as a team. It was a good exercise to get us used to working as a unit. The beginning was awkward, but by the time we reached the summit, we were getting the hang of it. The climbing was a lot of work, and still difficult for my overweight body, but with the alterations Shawn made, and my continuing weight loss, it was getting easier. I knew I'd need to work on it every day until we left for the mission, but I thought if I kept at it, I could get good enough to make the climb up the Demon's Citadel. After lunch, Neb got us into the van saying we needed a venue change. She drove out of the valley and several miles over the twisting mountain roads. On the way to wherever we were going, we saw little traffic and no people. Neb slowed the van to turn just beyond a weathered sign that read `Preada Stone & Gravel.' We pulled into a narrow cutting in the rock and through an open, gold metal gate that sagged from a bent fence post. Signs on both sides, far newer and less weathered than the one at the road, proclaimed "DANGER, WARNING, ABANDONED, NO ENTRY" in big, red, block capitals. Neb explained, but only a little. "I think we can test the limits of your magic here, Church." She drove on. The van bounced and swayed down a rutted haul-road cut deeply into the cliff face that lined what I understood to be an abandoned stone quarry. I craned my head from an open window so I could look over the edge. It was like looking onto the negative of a massive skyscraper. The hole in the ground was square, roughly one-hundred yards wall to wall, and maybe a thousand feet deep. Hearty green scrub grew in corners and cracks, but the rest was a blue/grey cubist moonscape. Everything was square. It seemed the rock was quarried out in cubes that left an outline where they were separated from the walls. The impression was of a child's set of wooden blocks made for a child two-hundred feet tall. There were no piles of overburden, no abandoned equipment, and no water at the bottom. It was the neatest abandoned rock quarry I'd ever seen. That said, it was also only the second abandoned rock quarry I'd ever seen in person. We made our slow, tedious way to the bottom of the quarry, drove off the ramp, and parked. "I did some superficial research last night, Church." Neb announced. She jumped out of the van and walked toward the middle of the square quarry floor. I scrambled out behind her and followed. "I have no idea what that dead poplar tree weighs. I can calculate within a range, but everything that I read talked about water content and wood density, live trees verses dead, wet weather verses dry, old growth verses modern planting; the numbers vary as much as fifty percent. I like to be more accurate than that." She reached the center of the giant square, threw her arms open, and revolved in place like the bizarre counterpoint to a music-box ballerina. "Rock is stable. A cubic foot of solid rock; wet, dry, cold, hot, on a sunny day or a cloudy one, will always weigh the same. I know exactly what the stone around us weighs, but I won't tell you. I want you to pick up, and keep up, as many of the rejected slabs around us as you can. When you can't do anymore, pile the slabs here," she stamped her right foot on the stone floor, "and I'll measure them." I shoved my hands in my pockets and looked around. Here and there, mostly around the perimeter, were blocks the two-hundred-foot child hadn't used. Some were clearly flawed, but others showed no visible reason for being left behind. As I looked at the blocks, I found the absence of water freshly surprising. The little I knew about quarries included the idea that most tended to have trouble with seeping ground water, both during operation and after closure. The bottom of this one was bone dry. I noticed a cluster of block shaped slabs at the corner opposite the bottom of the ramp and a few singles between them and me. I set my mind to the task at hand and started walking. The first slab I came to, gave me an idea of what I was up against. Five-foot tall and ten-feet square, the slab was as large as two compact cars parked next to each other, and I was certain, far heavier. I debated whether I should lift and hold each one individually, or make a big version of my invisible flat cart to pile them on. As the goal was maximum weight instead of precision, I decided to use the cart. I pictured a flatbed trailer from a freight truck and lifted the first slab onto it. I felt that it was heavier than the tree, but simpler to lift. It took much less concentration than the complex tree and its many branches. I moved the `trailer' around a little to make sure I was comfortable with it and set off toward the next slab. The trailer and the team followed me across the quarry as I went a-gathering rocks. I quickly added a second slab and a third, both the same size as the first. All the abandoned blocks appeared to be the same size. A fourth completed one row of slabs and completely covered the platform I'd built. I started a second layer and added four more, bringing the total to eight. Magic flowed freely from my core to the platform. I felt light and happy. I whistled random tunes while I strolled along. The flatbed of rock slabs followed eagerly behind like a well-trained dog. The nineth slab required turning my trailer into a double wide. The blocks were flat on all sides and stacked very well, but I didn't like the idea of a fifteen-or-twenty-foot-tall wall of slabs following me around. I preferred twice as wide and half as high. I kept going. Neb was silent until I added the twelfth slab. "That's twelve." She observed. I paused to see if she had a point or was just keeping count. "What are you feeling?" She asked. "I'm using a lot of power, but I'm not straining. It actually feels good." I pressed my hands to my chest and middle. "Something warm and wonderful in here is creating the energy for me to do all this and it's happy to be of service." Neb seemed uneasy but was trying to hide it. "Can you keep going?" She asked. "Sure." I didn't wait for anymore comments as I was having too much fun to allow her worry to worry me. I turned on my heels and headed for the next slab. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen piled on and brought me around two legs of the quarry bottom. I rounded the corner to stroll along the third. The sixteen blocks were starting to get heavy, but Neb wanted to know the max, and I wasn't there yet. I added seventeen and eighteen, piling them on the center between the two stacks of eight. The load was officially heavy, but I was working well within myself. I thought I could get an even twenty and didn't want to stop on an odd number. I added number nineteen and had number twenty in the air before I realized it was one too many. I set it back on the ground. I could have added it, but I wouldn't have been able to keep the load up for very long. Nineteen slabs stayed in the air with effort, but a sustainable effort. I carried them to the center of the quarry floor and bowed theatrically to Neb. "Ready for inspection ma'am." I said. Bem's expression was unreadable, Shawn oozed pride and desire, Neb seemed even more rattled than before as she did some math on her tablet. She narrated the calculations. "The slabs are ten, by ten, by five; that's five hundred cubic feet per slab. This rock weighs one-hundred-and-ninety-two pounds per cubic foot, so each slab weighs ninety-six thousand pounds." `That's more than a freight truck.' I thought and felt pretty proud of myself. `That's a fuck ton of weight...and times nineteen...WOW!' "Ninety-six thousand times nineteen," Neb continued, "is one million, eight hundred, and twenty-four thousand pounds." She looked up from her tablet and right at me. "To put that in perspective, it's nine-hundred-and-twelve tons." I raised my arms, hands just above my head, palms facing my audience and spoke like I was addressing a cheering crowd. "Thank you, thank you, no applause please. Please...it's too much." I blew a few kisses to my imaginary fans. "I love you all." "How long could you keep that up?" Neb asked, breaking into my silliness. I looked at the stack of slabs floating behind me and considered. "I don't know. It's heavy, but I'm not buckling under the strain. At least an hour, maybe more. You have to understand that the feeling isn't negative, like physically lugging something around. The magic flow...it feels really good. It makes me want to keep going." "You...uh...why don't you set it down now." Neb suggested. "I have the information I need." I lowered the platform to the ground, gradually releasing the magic so the slabs would touch down gently. I didn't want to slam down almost a thousand tons of stone. It was anti-climactic to stop the magic flow. Stopping gave me a negative feeling, almost like liquor dying inside me. I instantly missed the good feeling of making the magic. The negative, liquor dying feeling didn't last long; only until the magic shut down completely. Then all I felt was hunger. I pulled the ever-present bag of nuts from my pants pocket and dug my hand in. I ate one after the other without bothering with the nut solar system. I tossed them in as fast as I could chew and swallow them. Shawn felt mild concern at the sight of me wolfing the nuts down. He approached to check on me. A crackling sound that didn't come from my munching jaws erupted from everywhere and nowhere and bounced around the echoing quarry. When it stopped, the silence deafened. The floor shook, there was a great crunching, and the floor fell away. My accomplishment sank from sight, taking me with it. Shawn fell with me. I used a burst of my telekinesis to throw him back to the surface, and I shoved Neb and Bem away from the widening chasm. I fell into blackness. I landed and slid, I fell further, was tumbled and struck from all sides. There was no way to defend myself. I tried to protect my head with my arms. I tried building a box around me. Nothing worked. I fell and fell, landed and slid and came to rest. Shawn panicked for me. I was glad. The fact that he could worry, meant he was safe. I tried to move. Nauseating pain flooded my body, overwhelming my senses. Oblivion beckoned. I embraced it. * * * * I woke in bed in Shawn's apartment with no memory as to how I got there. The light panel ceiling was dark. Dim grey light filled the room from the open windows. Curtains billowed in the breeze, casting ghostly flickering shadow patterns around the room. I threw the covers back and discovered I was fully dressed in military fatigues and boots. I had a bag of macadamia nuts in my pocket. I got up and looked for Shawn. He wasn't in the apartment and he wasn't close enough for me to feel him. `Maybe at The HALL.' I thought, though I don't know why I thought that. I turned my steps through the apartment and down the stairs. My plan was to catch a bus to The HALL. I munched a nut on my way down. It was dry and tasteless, like eating a ball of ash. I rolled the top of the bag closed. `Something wrong with them.' I reasoned, but didn't think any more about it. I opened the front door of the building and stepped outside. The grey light was brighter, but not much. It seemed to consume all color. Everything was grey, including the overcast sky. No one was around; no cars moved, no one strolled the sidewalk, no one anywhere. Except for the rustling breeze, the neighborhood was eerily silent. I went to the middle of the street and looked up and down, only to see grey nothing in every direction. I didn't know what to do, but moving made more sense than standing still. I walked toward the bus stop on the next block. I pressed my thumb to the sign to bring up the schedule but nothing happened. The display didn't change. It remained an inert bus stop sign. I waited a while, but no bus came. That seemed strange, but not overly so. I wasn't terribly bothered by the lack of transportation, well, not any more so than I was bothered by anything else. I knew where The HALL was, so I turned my steps in that direction. It would mean a walk of several miles, but I didn't see another option. I walked through the grey light of the grey world, along the empty streets, always keeping to the middle of the road in case someone happened passed. I kept my eyes moving as I walked along and saw that the doors to homes and building stood open, curtains blew from open windows. There were no colorful people, no purple vehicles, no box of crayons out for a stroll. Even the parks were barren, the trees and benches forlorn. I got hungry and reflexively pulled the bag of nuts from my pocket. I ate one. It filled my mouth with the unpleasant, ashy taste of the last one. The taste disgusted me and I wound up to toss the bag in the gutter, but stopped myself. The nuts were the only food I'd seen. I returned them to my pocket and continued my journey. Time passed, but without any visible evidence. The grey light didn't change intensity like daylight would. Walking the streets was like walking a basement corridor lit with fluorescent tubes. The lack of people and sound grew oppressive. I tried to whistle but no sound came. The air went over my lips, but I didn't even hear the rushing sound of a failed whistle. I tried to speak, to talk to myself, but no sound came. My mouth formed the words, air left my lungs...I felt my throat to see if my vocal cords were working. They vibrated like they should, but they made no sound. The only thing I heard was the rustling wind. `Ars will know what to do.' I thought. `If anyone will, Ars will. That devious bastard could be behind this for all I know.' I tried to pick up my pace, but the urgency was difficult to maintain. I felt like I had nothing but time. I walked and walked and walked. Hours passed...maybe, there was no way to tell. I got to the main gate at The HALL and readied my Hall Pass for the guard, but no one was there. The gate stood open, so I walked through. The normally shiny black building was dull in the grey light, like it was made of soft coal instead of smooth glass. I had a qualm as I walked to the entrance door. How was I going to get it open without my voice? My worry was unfounded as the door stood open, like so many of the others I'd seen. I entered the building. The light panel ceilings were all dark, the blue dots that identified rooms and orange dots that identified elevators were nowhere to be seen. Grey light filled the corridors, making everything dim and sad. All the room doors stood open and gave onto unoccupied rooms. The elevators were open on the main floor. I didn't attempt to use them. I found the stairs and climbed, floor by floor, slowly to the top. The door to Ars' office was open like the rest. I walked into the huge status office of the small man. His chair was empty, the visitor's chairs were empty. I turned to look through the transparent walls. `Maybe from this vantage point, I'll find the people.' I reasoned. In the corner of the clear walls, stood a grey man with long grey hair. To say he `stood' would be to overstate. He was propped there, like a marionette hung from a hook. He was a large man, by Solum standards, five-foot-ten and broad. The style of his outfit matched mine, except his had no color. He held his hands behind him, and his head hung down like it was too heavy for his neck. I tried to call to him, but my voice still wouldn't work. As an act of desperation, I took the bag of nuts from my pocket and heaved it to the floor in front of me. It landed with a crash and clatter as the paper split and the nuts skittered across the floor. The grey man raised his grey head, revealing a sunken wasted face. He dragged a dry, tired voice from his throat. "We needed you, but you weren't there." He rasped. He blinked, his grey eyes cleared and became frozen blue. He shut them and sighed like all the breaths he ever took were leaving his body at once. His face hardened and cracked like old porcelain. He crumbled to ash, a soft grey pile on the parquetry floor. I shut my eyes and opened my mouth in a silent scream.