The First Interbellum (1918-1939)

[D10]

I continue to be amazed at how much work you have put into the setting. Lovin it and waiting for LATER.

[Johnny1A.2]

LATER.

What had happened was simple enough, though the truth involved was so far outside
the knowledge of McLaird and his men, at that time, that it would have left them
stunned in wonder.

Aradel, learning that her agents had been arrested, had to take action immediately.
Her motives were both moral and pragmatic. Morally, she made it a habit to 'take
care' of people acting in her name, to the degree that she could do so. Pragmatically,
she had no desire to leave potential 'leaks' in the hands of McLaird and the Federal
authorities. The American government and its personnel were not precisely her
enemies...and yet she no desire for them to know anything more about her or her
affairs than she could help.

(This was true regarding all the mortal governments, not just the United States.)

The first escape had been simple to arrange by ‘conventional’ means, other agents
in her employ, acting under standing general instructions, had arranged the escape.
The second pair, however, we more carefully guarded, in part because of the rapid
escape of the other suspect. McLaird had arranged for them to be held in a remote
place, under carefully selected and trained guards, none of whom were in the pay of
anyone other than the United States Government. Access was carefully controlled,
and the guards and other personnel were alert, well-trained, and highly motivated.
The prisoners were checked every fifteen minutes, among other precautions.

The security was, in fact, sufficiently well established as to force Aradel to act in the
matter personally. Even the men extracted would have been able to tell no tales of it,
because they were unconscious when it happened. Both were asleep, and passed from
sleep to total unconsciousness when their minds were struck by abrupt blasts of psychic
energy. The mental bolts that rendered them unconscious were silent and invisible and
imperceptible to ordinary senses, and the only visible trace of a change in the men as
they passed from sleep to total unconsciousness would have required close examination
to be detected.

Moments after that, had there been anyone present to look into the cells, that observer
would have been amazed to see a beautiful, very tall woman appear in the midst of
one the cells, as if out of thin air. There was a slight sound as this happened,
as if the air that had occupied her location was swept aside, but none were close
enough to hear it, and in truth, had there been, that person would probably also have
been rendered unconscious as easily and quickly as the prisoners themselves.

Our hypothetical observer, had he been allowed to observe, would seen this woman,
ordinary enough in appearance other than her loveliness, with short brown hair and
wearing clothing that would have been utterly ordinary on any city street in 1925,
and a dark-colored cloak over those clothes, put one hand on the shoulder of the
unconscious man, and then seen both vanish into apparent nothingness, easily as
mysteriously as the woman herself had appeared.

Again, there would have been a soft sound, as of disturbed air in the cell, and again,
there was nobody close enough to hear.

Had there been someone in place to see, he would have observed woman and man
reappear apparently in the moment of their disappearance, some meters outside the
wall of the building, in the courtyard of the small prison. Our hypothetical observer
would have seen the man appear still horizontal, as he had vanished out of his
bunk, and fall to the ground, without the slightest sign of awakening. Our very
hypothetical observer would have seen the woman take several deep breaths, as if
she had just engaged in strenuous activity, then vanish, to reappear in the cell of the
other prisoner. The process would be seen to repeat, and the woman would appear
outside with the other man. After a momentary pause to rest, the woman would be
seen by our observer to then kneel between the men, put a hand on each one, and
then our hypothetical observer would have seen all three vanish yet again, moments
before the beam of a searchlight would have touched that location.

Once again, our observer would note that none of the guards had any idea that any
odd events were occurring, though some of the dogs used by those guards did stir,
growl at the air, paw the ground slightly, as if sensing something that unnerved them.
It was nothing noticeable enough to alarm their human masters, however.

Once again, our hypothetical observer would see men and woman appear, yet again
as if instantaneously, this time materialized some meters outside the wall of the
prison. Our observer would, again, see the tall woman pause and breathe, now with
an appearance rather as if she had been working at some physical labor for many
hours. Then our observer would see the process repeated yet again, the woman
kneeling to touch the oblivious men, and all three once again vanishing.

Our non-existent, hypothetical observer, had he been in the right place at the right
time, would have seen the trio appear yet again, this some meters further away,
at the end of the single road leading away from the prison. There our observer
would see the woman pause and wait, concealed with her unconscious extractees
in the cloud-shrouded darkness of the night, as a supply truck leaving the prison
passed them on the road. Our observer would see the woman watched the truck,
as if carefully timing the matter. The observer would see the truck come to a stop
where the prison access road reached the main road, and in that moment he would
have seen all three vanish once again, to reappear inside the empty truck.

Were our observer able to see into the prison at the same time, at about this time
he would have seen the guards discover the empty cell on their regular check,
and raise the alarm, he would seen guards rush to search the prison, the yard, and
the surroundings. On the main road, our observer would see the prison truck come
to a stop at a stop sign, while another truck pulled up at the stop sign across the
intersection. Were the observer able to see into the back of the truck, he would
see woman and men vanish one more time, to reappear in the other truck, with the
woman now appearing too exhausted to do more than sit and gasp for breath. [1]

Our observer would see the other truck speed on into the night at a word from the
woman, as the driver smiled and took the truck away from the prison, while the
first truck, caught up with by the guards, was searched and found empty.

Thus it was that Robert McLaird found himself puzzling over the mystery of the
empty prison cell, untouched bars and locks, and utterly puzzled guards.

MORE LATER.


[1] The process of psionic teleportation is effort-intensive at the best of times,
and exhausting when the psion is moving much additional mass. Few beings other
than an Avatar like Aradel could have managed such rapid, successive jumps while
‘carrying’ so much additional mass. It left even her all but exhausted, physically
and psionically.

[Johnny1A.2]

LATER.

To continue our explanation of the mysterious escape, the two men who had been
extracted from Federal custody awakened in no small shock themselves. Each of
the men had gone to sleep in his cell, no little fearful about the future, facing very
serious charges in violation of some very serious Federal laws.

Each awakened to find himself far from the prison, in the hands of their mysterious
group that had paid them for their initial illegal actions. No explanation for the
change was forthcoming. Neither man met Aradel (or knew that she even existed),
both dealt with humans in her employ who asked questions but were not at all
forthcoming in return. The men revealed what they knew (not being total fools),
and were then given options for how to deal with the rest of their lives. When it
was said and done, both were given new identities and incomes sufficient to keep
them in modest comfort, outside and well beyond the United States. One of them
finished his life in France, the other in Ireland, under different names. [1]

The two men knew relatively little that they had not already passed on, but one of
them had come across a piece of information just before his arrest. From
him, Aradel and Zadatharion learned that a team of American operatives had been
sent to Brazil in pursuit of an unknown man. The description and information was
enough to clearly identify that man for the Avatars as Jurgensen, however.

So now the Avatars knew that the mysterious American group that had created such
confusion in Chicago was on their way to Brazil, in pursuit of Jurgensen. This in
turn enabled the two to alert the Rhaemyi of the movements of Jurgensen. This
was why the Rhaeymi in Brazil had been ‘on alert’, they knew that their archenemy
was coming to that country, but they did not know where or why, and Brazil is huge.
The ancient secret society had remained on alert, watching for a sign of Jurgensen.

While their various agents, of various sorts, continued to delicately probe for more
information about the mysterious American group, Aradel and Zadatharion decided
to move in pursuit of Jurgensen. Thus it was that behind Jurgensen and the Seven
Aces came Aradel and Zadatharion, and a group of their own picked people, still
uncharacteristically behind events as they pursued the others.

As they traveled, the received further updates from the spies in America, as small
pieces of information were obtained and sent on. This was frustratingly slow, as
their agents danced through the shadows, trying to get past the security precautions
set up by McLaird and his men. Those precautions proved frustratingly effective,
but enough information was uncovered to guide the Avatars to the Amazon River.

So it was that some days behind Jurgensen and Conners, Zadatharion and Aradel
set off up the Amazon River, still trying to close the gap just as Conners was doing
with Jurgensen, and operating in a confusion of their own not so different from
that of Conners. They did have the advantage of being able to marshal greater
resources of money and material in Brazil on short notice than either Jurgensen or
McLaird could manage.

Thus the riverboat on which they traveled was faster and more capacious that the
vessels of either Jurgensen or the Seven Aces. This enabled them to close the
gap somewhat, but not so much that they could catch up before their dual quarry
reached the site of the ancient Refuge. At that point, Zadatharion and Aradel were
still some three days behind the first two groups.

That was more than close enough, however, that when the intense Flux/psychical
activity at the Refuge site erupted, the two Avatars could clearly perceive it via
their own espersenses. Indeed, it was strong enough that even their mortal retainers,
themselves potent psions, could detect the activity at a distance of sixty kilometers. [2]

The intensity and peculiar nature of the psychic eruption was deeply puzzling to
the two Avatars. The pattern was incredibly strange, and to have such a thing so
suddenly erupt in that region was doubly strange. By this time, however, part of
the puzzle was becoming clearer. Zadatharion and Aradel already had some very
strong suspicions about just what it was that Jurgensen was seeking.

The two Avatars knew that the Refuge had been created, indeed, they had played
some role in bringing about the creation of the Refuge in the first place. In the last
days of ancient Atlantis, their ally Vylyrades had led the effort to create the Refuge,
drawing on resources and assistance partly provided by the two Avatars. What the
two had not known, in those days, was exactly where the Refuge had been created.

MORE LATER.


[1] This was considerably better than the prison terms (or worse) that they
potentially faced in the United States, and both men were single with few other
attachments anyway. It was of course made clear to them that returning to the USA,
or contacting their former friend and acquaintances, for any reason, would not be
in their best interests.

[2] They were about sixty kilometers from the Refuge site in a straight line, it
was considerably longer following the winding path of the various rivers involved,
even assuming one knew exactly what route and which rivers to follow.

[Johnny1A.2]

LATER.

The reason they had not known the exact location was simple. Both Avatars, as
well as their allies, had been incredibly busy, dealing with many issues and matters
in that dark, chaotic time. Further, the basic principles of secrecy argued against
everyone in their loose alliance knowing everything about everything. This helped
to ensure that if there were to be a ‘leak’, that leak would be inherently limited.

Further, when the Great Cataclysm had happened, the Avatars had found themselves
too busy simply surviving, and then founding Cyllellia, and then as the centuries
turned into millennia, faced with new matters and a new world rising. There had
not been any word or trace from the Refuge in over seven thousand years, and none
of the Avatars had ever suspected that the Refuge had survived the Downfall at all.

This was natural enough, they had no reason to think anything else. After all,
the Cataclysm, when it came, had been terrible almost beyond description or even
imagination. Though the Refuge had been constructed precisely as a precaution
against some unknown, half-sensed disaster, that disaster had proven to be beyond
the darkest nightmares of anyone prior to the event. There was no reason to think
that the Refuge, no matter how well protected, would survive such an event. [1]

Six thousand years is a very long time, even for an Avatar. It had been more than
six thousand years since Atlantis had been destroyed. The memories of Aradel went
back only about ten thousand years, give or take, over half her life had been spent
in the years since the Downfall. Zadatharion was older, but even for him the long
millennia that had passed since the Cataclysm was enough that it was small wonder
that he had not even spared a thought regarding the Refuge in thousands of years.

Even so, though they had never known the precise location of the site chosen
by Vylyrades for the Refuge, they had certainly known that it was somewhere in
South America, and indeed that it was within what would later be called the great
Amazon Jungle region. By simple deduction, based on what they could both still
remember from those times, they could narrow down the probable location of the
old Refuge to an area perhaps one hundred kilometers across...and Jurgensen and
his mysterious American pursuers appeared to be heading directly into that region.

Thus when the psychic outburst (generated by the ‘ghosts’ at the site) flooded out,
both Avatars considered their suspicions to be more-or-less confirmed. This was
a deeply alarming prospect on many levels, mostly because of the original reason
for the creation of the Refuge. The basic point of the Refuge had been that
it was to serve as a secure place to create the great library, the repository of as much
of the knowledge of the Antediluvian Civilization as could be accumulated. The
utter lack of any message, trace, or sign of the Refuge in all the millennia since
strongly suggested that none of the people assigned to the Refuge had survived into
the new, post-Cataclysmic age. [2]

Still, even if the people had not survived, even if the Refuge had died, so to speak,
in the Cataclysm, that did not mean that the great Library might not yet exist. That
Library had been carefully protected. There had been designs for protections
both purely physical, in the buildings to house the contents of the Library, and also
‘metaphysical’. Some of the most potent and complex Flux Manifestations ever
devised in the Antediluvian Age, at the very late-Age height of the skill and power
of that Civilization, had gone into protecting that Library. The contents themselves
had been stored in forms designed to make them enduring. Much of the knowledge
was stored carved in stone, etched into stable alloys, written onto flexible forms of
‘paper’ that were resistant to moisture, heat, cold, and even fungi and other living
threats. Tremendous skill and effort had gone into protecting that Library.

As they considered the matter, both Avatars agreed that while it might be improbable,
it was by no means inconceivable that the Library still existed in 1925 A.D.

This was, ironically, a very disturbing possibility.

MORE LATER.


[1] Indeed, the survival of the Refuge was only secondarily about the various
protections and precautions, and primarily a matter of luck, luck of location and
luck of how the Cataclysm had actually unfolded. It so happened that it fell more
lightly in that part of South America than in some other regions.

[2] In fact, of course, some had...for a time. A few generations or so.

[Johnny1A.2]

LATER.

The reason this situation was ironic was that Zadatharion and Aradel had, themselves,
contributed considerably to making sure the Library was established in the first place.
At that time, however, the purpose of creating the Library was as a precaution against
some possible future disaster, an ill-defined possibility that had haunted several of the
leaders of their ancient alliance in different ways.

Now, though, over six thousand years later, that ancient intention had become utterly
irrelevant. The half-sensed threat and become manifest as the Cataclysm, and it had
swept the entire Antediluvian World aside, forcing history on Earth to begin almost
from a blank slate. The Library, had it been accessible in the immediate aftermath of
the Cataclysm, would have been of inestimable value.

Now, though, over six thousand years after the Cataclysm, a new world had come to
be, and the Library was a legacy that would fit badly into that new world. Once
again, men had reached a level at which all the world was open, when every place on
Earth could affect every other place, as it had in the last centuries of the Antediluvian
Age. Once again, men had risen up to build a vast civilization, of immense scale and
power, but this cluster of civilizations was very different from those that had perished
in the Cataclysm. The sciences and arts, the faiths and beliefs, the languages and the
customs and the outlook of these new civilizations were quite unlike those that had
gone before. They sudden introduction of the knowledge available in that Library, if
it had all survived, would disrupt every aspect of the new societies, at a very basic
level. Further, the power of that knowledge included a staggering potential for sheer
destruction, and this new world had no context for the use of that knowledge, no
background in using it, no experience in its potentials, its limits, and its deadly risks.

The more Zadatharion pondered the possibilities, the more disturbed and worried he
became. It had not, after all, yet been even ten years since the end of the Great War,
which had been the greatest armed conflict since the Cataclysm. Even in light of the
great wars of the final years of the Antediluvian, the destruction and suffering that
had been unleashed in the Great War had been staggering in its scale and horror. As
he pondered what might have been, had the belligerents been armed with even a
fraction of the knowledge that had been stored in the Library, he felt a chill go down
his spine and a cold clenching sensation in his stomach.

In the eye of his imagination, Zadatharion saw the mustard gas and incendiaries of
the Great War joined by Flux Manifestations that could rip the very life from the body
at a metaphysical level, or turn the very elements of nature into weapons of war. He
imagined the trenches of France filled with Flux revenants, armies of mindless, fearless,
merciless living dead fodder. He saw the terrifying new ‘tanks’ that had been used in
that war protected by Flux-Manifested shields, rolling across farm and town in an
unstoppable wave. He saw the weaponry of the new world combined with that of the
ancient one, and the image in his mind formed of a Europe, indeed of much of a world,
rendered sere and barren, of casualties by the hundreds of millions instead of the tens
of millions, of disaster and destruction that would need centuries to repair rather than
decades. All this he could see in his imagination, and he knew all too well that what
he imagined could very easily have come to pass, had that knowledge been available.

It was not that the knowledge itself was evil. Zadatharion considered what the result
would have been had the knowledge of the world of 1925 been introduced suddenly
to the violent age just before the Cataclysm, and the likely result was similarly grim.

Still, the worst of it was the potential that lay in the knowledge of the Flux. There was
no escape from the fact that the power of the Flux had somehow, some way, brought
about the Great Cataclysm. Even after six thousand years, Zadatharion still did not
know just exactly what had happened that terrible day, or why. It was clear, though,
that it was the power of the Flux that had reduced an entire world-wide civilization
to essentially nothing, and brought about other events at that time that he still did not
fully understand. To release that knowledge anew, into a world that had no history
of dealing with it, of understanding its limitations and its nature, seemed madness.

Yet the Library held just that knowledge, and other things beside that, in the opinion
of the leader of the Avatars, were more dangerous than useful in the modern age.
If that Library still survived, the danger it posed was all but incalculable, or so the
matter seemed to Zadatharion as he considered its various implications and aspects.

So it was that when they sensed the psychic outburst generated by the ‘ghosts’ and
the battle at the ruin of the Refuge, Zadatharion and Aradel moved quickly to use
it to pinpoint the location of the site, and began to move that way as swiftly as they
could. They had little choice but to make their way by river, however, this took them
well out of their way, but was still faster than trying to cut direct through the jungle.

MORE LATER.

[Johnny1A.2]

LATER.

Even as they crossed the jungle-covered river-lowlands, Zadatharion continued to
ponder the implications of the possible survival of the ancient Library, and the
more he considered the matter, the more nervous the ancient immortal became. It
was more than bad enough to ponder what that ancient knowledge, suddenly and
carelessly unleashed into the modern age, would do. That was not the worst of it
all, however. Even more dire were the implications of the existence of the Unity.

Zadatharion had known for some centuries that the Unity had survived the Great
Cataclysm, and returned into the modern world. Indeed, the previous several
centuries had in much been spent in a frustrating, lethal ongoing match of wits
and power between Zadatharion and his allies, and the Unity and its various tools
and slaves and pawns. The outcome of this shadow-struggle remained in doubt.

Zadatharion was all too well aware of the catastrophic potential that the Unity, in
its various forms, represented. Zadatharion could remember the last centuries of
the Antediluvian Age, and the dark twilight war against the Unity that had turned
those years into a waking nightmare. The ruler of the Avatars still did not know,
with certainty, exactly what connections had existed between the machinations
of the Unity, and the ultimate final Cataclysm itself.

Still, it seemed certain enough to Zadatharion that some such connections had to
have existed. It had been disturbing enough to realize that the Unity had been
able to survive the Cataclysm. It had long been clear to Zadatharion, though,
that the Unity was greatly diminished from what it had been in the last days of
the former Age. This was clear from its actions, its plans, it had become over the
previous few centuries that the collective entity no longer possessed much of its
former knowledge and power, which was a tremendous blessing indeed.

The Library, in the multiple hands of the Unity, could restore much of that former
knowledge and power to the collective. The thought of that, when it occurred to
Zadatharion, was enough to almost literally send shivering cold chills through him.

One thing that Zadatharion knew the Unity had sought in the ancient times was the
ability to wield Flux power itself. It had never achieved this, though it had gone to
immense lengths in seeking this goal before the Cataclysm. Zadatharion strongly
suspected that the Cataclysm itself had been connected to those efforts in some way,
though he had only suspicions about details of the effect. [1]

Zadatharion was confident that the Unity still lacked this ability, even in 1925, and
he was also sure that the collective still sought the power avidly. Zadatharion was
sure enough of the first opinion because of the way the Unity had waged its side of
their shadow war, the second part followed naturally from the first.

Though it struck Zadatharion as unlikely, for a variety of technical reasons, that the
knowledge in the Library would grant this desire on the part of the Unity, it could
most certainly make the mortal fluxons who served the Unity far, far more potent
and powerful. That alone was a frightening thought. Like the Unity itself, those
fluxons who served it in the modern age held only a shadow of the power that the
fluxons of the ancient world had wielded. What the modern Unity could do if its
modern slave-servants could match the power of their ancient fellows simply did
bear thinking about, but Zadatharion felt it to be his duty to think about it anyway.

Images passed through his mind of the Unity extorting a relatively defenseless and
vulnerable modern world with the threat of tsunamis, earthquakes, storms, drought
and flood. Zadatharion imagined Flux power being used to warp and twist the
processes of biology as had been done in Antediluvian times, to bring back the
monsters that had haunted the Earth in those lost years. The modern world was
as defenseless against such powers as the ancient one would have been against
such weapons as mustard gas.

The more Zadatharion considered the matter, as he and his fellows made their
way overland toward the source of the psychic disturbances, the more he began
to conclude that the knowledge in that Library simply had to be kept out of the
hands of the modern world, at least for the time being.

MORE LATER.


[1] Zadatharion was of course right in this conjecture, as we have seen in
previous threads.

[Johnny1A.2]

LATER.

By now, our relevant groups have been identified as they converge on the site of
the ancient Atlantean Refuge. Jurgensen and his surviving men, and Conners and
his surviving men, were each preparing for their next move in the immediate area
of the Refuge. Coming up the river were Zadatharion, Aradel, and their force,
and following the rivers behind them were the reinforcements from the Unity.

Complicating the matter was how little each group knew of the movements, or of
the mere existence, of the others. Conners suspected that his opponents had some
reinforcements coming, Jurgensen knew that they were on the way, but not when
they would arrive, exactly. Neither Jurgensen nor Conners knew of the approach
of Zadatharion and his party, indeed Conners did not know that Zadatharion even
existed. Jurgensen certainly knew of his existence, but not of his rapid approach.

(Had he known, it might well have been enough to panic Jurgensen into fleeing.)

For his part, Conners continued his wait for Jurgensen, so that he could attempt to
spring his own trap. Let us rejoin Conners and some of his men where we last
left them, in that immense, half-collapsed chamber of the Great Library.

Conners continued to examine the great world globe, now standing,
with some care, on the third level of the great ‘frame’ around it.
He was aware of the fact that the walkways on which he stood
had to be at least several thousand years old, and though the metal
of the structure seemed uncorroded and otherwise undamaged, the
mounting of the frame was weak. It sometimes shifted under him,
leading him to move very carefully.

Still, the ancient world map was fascinating, Conners found the
subtly changed coasts and rivers of the ancient world depicted
on the globe to be hard to turn away from. Just then, he was
looking at the northwestern part of what was now the United
States, the Dominion of Canada, and the Alaska Territory. The
fascinating thing about this was that the Alaska Territory was
totally different on this ancient globe than it was in modern fact.

On the ancient globe, the lands of the Alaska Territory, and also
Siberia in Russia, were connected. There was a wide path
of dry land on the map, and no ocean connection between the
Pacific Ocean and the Arctic Ocean. Further, there was a strip
of land further south, a partial circle of dry land linking modern
Alaska with the Kamchatka Peninsula. Conners saw a line of
huge mountains marked on this curve of land, and realized that
he was seeing what was now the Aleutian Islands.

Between the main mass of land and the strip of land that would
eventually be the Aleutians lay a body of water, now part of the
Bering Sea, but in that earlier time apparently a separate lake or
inland sea. Conners wondered if it had been fresh water or salt.

“Chief,” one of his men called up from the floor, “something’s
started outside. I think it’s about to go up.”

“On my way,” Conners said, heading down the steps as fast as
he safely could, all thoughts of the fascinating map of the old
world banished as his mind snapped back to the modern world.

“We spotted two of the enemy,” Conners was told, “trying to
get in over the back wall. Looks like they made ropes out of
vines to do it.”

“Thought maybe they’d try something on that order,” Conners
said. “It’s what I’d do in their place if I just had to get
back in here and thought we might be waiting. Let’s hope we
guessed right about the rest of it.”

Conners had suspected that their opponents would try to get in
over the walls, because the only other alternatives were the
openings, which they would know would be watched, or to use
the network of tunnels under the site.

This last worried Conners, because they did not have anything
like enough men to watch that route usefully. On the other
hand, he rather suspected their opponents would not want to
use that route. It looked to be too dangerous for a group as
small as their opposing force appeared to be, too easy to get
lost, too many potential nasty surprises that might be down
there. As he had hoped, it looked like the enemy agreed.

As Conners had expected, the enemy tried to cross the walls
in two places, and Conners had a man station atop one of the
buildings, where he could keep a close eye on all the sides as
long as the daylight lasted. Unfortunately, Conners knew that
his opponent would surely be smart enough to foresee that.
Which meant that the these were probably diversions.

Still, his own men were moving toward the places where the
enemy was trying to cross the walls...or so he hoped it appeared
to the opposition. He himself headed for the entry hall of the
Great Library itself, because both his logic and his instinct said
that this was the most likely place for what he hoped was about
to happen. It he had guessed right about the enemy, anyway.

Charles Adams was waiting for him there.

“Is everything ready?” Conners asked.

Adams nodded, handing Conners a small metal box with a knife
switch on it, connected to electrical wires leading away into the
shadows. Conners positioned the switch so that the contacts
were just barely separated, and stepped back into the shadows.


Outside the Great Library, momentary fire was exchanged between those men
trying to cross the walls and the Aces waiting for them. Since, as Conners had
hoped, these were basically diversions, the mostly-German force backed off
quickly, and the Aces moved into position for the next step of their own plan.

Meanwhile, Jurgensen himself, having taken another dose of the ryshyl drug to
boost his own psionic abilities, had entered the compound through one of the
openings in the wall, and moved cautiously through the compound while the Aces
and his own men engaged at the far ends of the compound.

Jurgensen had much experience in ‘shadowy’ movement, he kept to cover and
kept his eyes, ears, and psychic senses alert. He worked his way across the
compound, up to the steps before the main entrance to the Great Library, and
with a deep breath, he emerged from cover, and headed up the stairs.

MORE LATER.

[Johnny1A.2]

LATER.

Outside the Great Library structure, the initial distractions had passed. Once they
had fulfilled, or thought they had fulfilled, their assigned to distract the Aces, the
men Jurgensen had put on the task fell back, and the Aces did not pursue them,
because they more or less suspected that it had been a distraction. Jurgensen had
hoped that they would pursue his men into the jungle, but mostly had had merely
hoped that the distraction would give him a chance to sneak into the Library itself.

By the time the Aces began to head for their assigned places, Jurgensen himself
was entirely occupied with the sudden appearance of his personal nemesis.

Jurgensen stared at the man in something like sheer disbelief, a
state almost of shock. He had known of course that this man was
in the area, had spoken with him at one point at a distance, but
his sudden appearance, standing just a few meters away, came
as such a shock that it took several seconds to gather his thoughts.

When he did manage to focus, his first, instinctive, all but utterly
irresistible impulse was to continue his movement to draw his
Luger. The American was, at least apparently, unarmed, standing
just meters away, it would be trivially easy to kill him, to remove
the worry and fear that had been associated with this man for so
many long decades. The device in his hand made this a difficult
decision, though, because of the threat to the Library itself!

Was the American serious? Did that switch really connect to
some means of destroying the Library? The very thought of the
destruction of all that knowledge was enough to give even the
callous soul of Karl Jurgensen serious pause.

The possibility of freedom from the encroaching spectre of old
age and death, the failure of his psychic life-extension, was a
possibility implicit in the vast Library. Further, there was the
fact that the Unity now knew it was here and was sending more
forces, its destruction would not please the Unity and Jurgensen
knew that all too well!

Could I stop him from closing that switch?!! Jurgensen
asked himself as his mind raced. He stared at the device, the
switch was already almost closed, there was no more than the
tiniest of gaps between the contacts, and the American had his
thumb in position to press it shut with the slightest of efforts.

The American was right, Jurgensen realized. In the time that it
would take to draw and aim and fire his pistol, even in that
short space, the America could close the switch several times
over. Even if he could aim and fire that fast, the man might
very well be able to close the switch before he died.

Hell, he might close the switch in a muscle spasm, or the
switch might even close as he fell! Jurgensen thought to
himself, fighting down panic. That switch is so close to
closing he might press is shut without intending to at any
moment! I don’t dare fire!

Forcing himself toward a calmer state, Jurgensen considered
whether he could use his psychokinetic faculty to salvage the
situation. It would certainly be easy enough to reach the man
or the device, they were well within his range, and the device
was small. The trouble was that risk again!

That switch...no more than fraction of an inch left! If I made
even the slightest error, the switch could close! I could snatch
the device out of his hand, or I could pull the wires from the unit,
or I could try to hold the switch in place so he can’t close it...but
I’d have to get it perfectly right the first time, or it’ll close!

The matter was made harder because his normally reliable, well
trained espersense was not so useful in this place. There was a
strange ‘static’ in the air, his range was reduced and the clarity of
his perceptions clouded. Without the guidance of that sense, it
was much harder to use his psychokinesis with precision!

Even under ideal circumstances, he would have been hesitant to
risk trying anything with the device, the maddeningly tiny gap
between the contacts would have been a terrifying risk, under
these conditions making the attempt appeared to be pure lunacy!

All this went through his mind over the course of a few seconds,
and then he forced it all aside, and said, in English as steady as
he could manage to utter, “What do you intend?”


When Jurgensen spoke, Conners had to conceal a wave of relief, because he had
not been sure what would happen. In the shadows where he lay hid, Adams felt
a similar moment of relief. The relief was made the more so by the fact, known
to both men, that the wires from the device, leading into the shadows and out of
the room, actually connected to nothing whatsoever.

MORE LATER.

[garfield]

I am anxiously waiting for the rest of the story!

Well done!

[Johnny1A.2]

LATER.

Outside the Great Library structure, the initial distractions had passed. Once they
had fulfilled, or thought they had fulfilled, their assignment to distract the Aces, the
men Jurgensen had put on the task fell back, and the Aces did not pursue them,
because they more or less suspected that it had been a distraction. Jurgensen had
hoped that they would pursue his men into the jungle, but mostly had had merely
hoped that the distraction would give him a chance to sneak into the Library itself.

By the time the Aces began to head for their assigned places, Jurgensen himself
was entirely occupied with the sudden appearance of his personal nemesis.

Jurgensen stared at the man in something like sheer disbelief, a
state almost of shock. He had known of course that this man was
in the area, had spoken with him at one point at a distance, but
his sudden appearance, standing just a few meters away, came
as such a shock that it took several seconds to gather his thoughts.

When he did manage to focus, his first, instinctive, all but utterly
irresistible impulse was to continue his movement to draw his
Luger. The American was, at least apparently, unarmed, standing
just meters away, it would be trivially easy to kill him, to remove
the worry and fear that had been associated with this man for so
many long decades. The device in his hand made this a difficult
decision, though, because of the threat to the Library itself!

Was the American serious? Did that switch really connect to
some means of destroying the Library? The very thought of the
destruction of all that knowledge was enough to give even the
callous soul of Karl Jurgensen serious pause.

The possibility of freedom from the encroaching spectre of old
age and death, the failure of his psychic life-extension, was a
possibility implicit in the vast Library. Further, there was the
fact that the Unity now knew it was here and was sending more
forces, its destruction would not please the Unity and Jurgensen
knew that all too well!

Could I stop him from closing that switch?!! Jurgensen
asked himself as his mind raced. He stared at the device, the
switch was already almost closed, there was no more than the
tiniest of gaps between the contacts, and the American had his
thumb in position to press it shut with the slightest of efforts.

The American was right, Jurgensen realized. In the time that it
would take to draw and aim and fire his pistol, even in that
short space, the America could close the switch several times
over. Even if he could aim and fire that fast, the man might
very well be able to close the switch before he died.

Hell, he might close the switch in a muscle spasm, or the
switch might even close as he fell! Jurgensen thought to
himself, fighting down panic. That switch is so close to
closing he might press is shut without intending to at any
moment! I don’t dare fire!

Forcing himself toward a calmer state, Jurgensen considered
whether he could use his psychokinetic faculty to salvage the
situation. It would certainly be easy enough to reach the man
or the device, they were well within his range, and the device
was small. The trouble was that risk again!

That switch...no more than fraction of an inch left! If I made
even the slightest error, the switch could close! I could snatch
the device out of his hand, or I could pull the wires from the unit,
or I could try to hold the switch in place so he can’t close it...but
I’d have to get it perfectly right the first time, or it’ll close!

The matter was made harder because his normally reliable, well
trained espersense was not so useful in this place. There was a
strange ‘static’ in the air, his range was reduced and the clarity of
his perceptions clouded. Without the guidance of that sense, it
was much harder to use his psychokinesis with precision!

Even under ideal circumstances, he would have been hesitant to
risk trying anything with the device, the maddeningly tiny gap
between the contacts would have been a terrifying risk, under
these conditions making the attempt appeared to be pure lunacy!

All this went through his mind over the course of a few seconds,
and then he forced it all aside, and said, in English as steady as
he could manage to utter, “What do you intend?”


When Jurgensen spoke, Conners had to conceal a wave of relief, because he had
not been sure what would happen. In the shadows where he lay hid, Adams felt
a similar moment of relief. The relief was made the more so by the fact, known
to both men, that the wires from the device, leading into the shadows and out of
the room, actually connected to nothing whatsoever.

MORE LATER.