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graphic The Fourth Dimension graphic
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Therin
Gloompf. Iggle!



Gender: Gender:Male
Joined: 24 Sep 2002
PostPosted: Tue Mar 02, 2004 12:44 am    Post subject: The Fourth Dimension

"I have multiple oscillations!" yelled the tech from his monitor, "Doctor, I repeat, multiple oscillations! It looks like it's almost time!"

Time.

Doctor Verone smiled to himself. He was amused at that thought. Soon, time would become immaterial. He would insert a wedge into one of the many cracks in the space-time continuum, and insert himself into that wedge. Then he would push it farther, prying and forcing, and farther still, until all of time fell open before him. He would be able to speak with the ancient ones. He would be able to witness history as it was made. He would know everything there was to know.
The tech yelled something, and that was also immaterial. Verone knew it was time. He could feel it. He stepped into the converter, and flipped the switch that was located above waist-level in the center. At full capacity, it would house six people, would make him billions upon billions of dollars in tourist money, but Verone had other plans. He knew this technology was too powerful to release to the world. It was ok. He didn't need fame. He had another objective.
At first, the only difference in the atmosphere of the laboratory was a slight hum. That was the power coursing through the conduits and through the converter. It increased. This was expected. The converter sucked up prohibitive amounts of electricity, and at full power there would be no power to any other system within the circuit. Lights would be out. The rest of the building would have no power. The computers and monitors intermittently spaced around the lab were on a seperate generator. They would be on and functional through the entire process. Verone didn't care, though. He only needed to get in, didn't care about getting out. Suddenly, everything went black. Everything. Verone stretched out his hand to retract the power switch, and felt nothing there. He looked around. Blackness, oppressive and encroaching.
"Hello?" he said, quietly. Suddenly, he knew. This was his destination. This was the time between seconds, between thought, between existence. With this knowledge came vision. Sort of. It wasn't vision, as such, but the closest thing within comprehension that it could be compared to was vision. Even as he thought that, comprehension arrived. He knew, and understood, momentarily, everything. Life. The Universe. Human Nature. Chickens and Eggs. Everything. He banished most of it from his thoughts, and suddenly, there it was. Gone without a trace from his mind, hovering before him. Back to vision. He "saw" an infinite terrain stretching away in all directions. All dimensions. He looked up, and there it was, stretching into the distance. He looked left, and there was a different part, also infinite. The Timescape. He wondered about how he would ever find the chronological location that he wanted, but before the thought was finished, it was there. There was no transition, but it was smooth, nonetheless.
He entered it...


Buildings stretched indefinitely into the night sky. Literally. It had been twenty years since the first building had broken the Ozone. Nineteen since the shattering of the gravitational barrier to height. Now every building was at least one-thousand stories. To be less was to be looked down upon. Literally. Down at ground level, there was very little light. There was a reason for this. It was night. Trent walked slowly along the remnants of an ancient sidewalk. Concrete, if he remembered correctly. His neck was bent, eyes seemingly examining the ground beneath his feet, but actually staring off into nothingness. Into thoughts and memories. Trent was an award-winning archeaologist. Normally. Tonight, he was just another people.
A People. It was an operation recently formulated, and certainly not permitted under current law. It took the thoughts, personality, soul, everything incorporeal about a person, removed it, and put it into someone else's body. Essentially, humankind had achieved immortality. The flip-side was that every operatee developed, by definition, a second personality. It was two people, sharing one body. A people. It had been two years since the first succesful transfer, and while the law-abiders were still awaiting the government's verdict on whether or not this was something acceptable to society, the operation had spread like wildfire through the underworld.
Trent, little though he liked it, was part of the underworld. He had family who were in the mafia, and he owed that particular organization most of the credit for getting him his start in archeaology. Recently, their top assassin, a man predictably named Vinni, had been mortally wounded during a botched operation. Trent had been called in to repay his debt. The mafia never forgot a debt. Now, he was a people. His other person was Vinni Staglione, the mafia's best assassin.
Vinni stopped outside a door. He checked and then double-checked the address. It was definitely the right place. He entered the lobby, and took the elevator to the seven-hundred and forty-second floor. He checked his new photographic memory, and saw that his target was behind the door to room 74231, down the hall to his right, hang a left, and it was directly across the way. He opened the door silently outward, stepped through a geomatrix, and closed the door silently behind him. Everything he would do from here on out would be done in absolute silence.
The inside of the door he had just come through, once closed, read 66666. He removed a jolt blade from inside his coat. It was about six inches long, and all the weight was in the hilt. Vinni ghosted along the hallway, peeking into each room along the way. At the end was the workspace, and that was where Vinni found his target. Carefully, he checked for alarm sensors and, finding none, entered the room.
To the uneducated eye, it was a mess, as though a miniature tornado had ripped through and thrown everything out of its place and onto the floor. To an educated man, it was paradise. To this particular educated man, it was life. Piles of read-discs were scattered throughout the room. Trent peeked at the titles. "The Gorgon's Eternity." Nonsense. "Apple and Leaf" More nonsense. "The Cryptonomicon." Definitely not nonsense. This guy was doing something extremely secretive, or that book probably wouldn't be there. If he was following the advice of that ancient tome, how did the mafia come to know what he was doing? It was a problem for later. Trent knew he would have plenty of later. Vinni continued forward. He stopped before the piles of junk. Reaching inside his coatsleeve, he twisted a dial on his arm. He then continued silently across the debris. His feet made contact only with air. He was walking an inch above the floor, supported on two localized force-fields. It was the latest and greatest of stealth technology. Vinni paused again just behind his intended victim, who still didn't even know he was here.
Suddenly, and with jarring speed, Vinni slammed the jolt blade into the base of the man's skull. The battery, which was the reason there was so much weight in the hilt, discharged a lethal surge, frying the man's nervous system. He died silently, with smoke curling from between his closed eyelids. Vinni turned, left the room, and stalked back down the hall. Suddenly, light flooded into the hall from his left. He didn't flinch, only froze and turned his head to look into the room. It was a kid, staring at him with groggy curiosity.
"Who are you?" said the kid. He was probably ten. Vinni ignored him and continued down the hall, back through the geomatrix, and out of the apartment.

Trent stumbled against the door across the way, room 26233, nearly retching at the horror of what he'd just witnessed. He staggered down the hallway in the direction of the elevator. Suddenly, a hand stopped him, lifted his head, a face looked into his eyes.
Someone spoke. "At last. I have finally accomplished it. And now I can have my vengeance."
Trent stared in utter befuddlement at the man before him. Whoever it was was dressed in laboratory whites. White gloves on his hands. A short-range cutting laser in the hand which was not on Trent's shoulder. "Who are you?" asked Trent, figuring he'd get to the meat of the problem.
"Vincent Verone." Vinni had apparently been checking that wonderful photographic memory. The man's facial profile matched that of the kid he'd just ignored. The target's son. That explained a number of things. Vinni continued, completely unfazed by this apparition. That was what it had to be, Trent thought. There was no way that kid could have aged thirty years in as many seconds.
"You finally finished that pitiful project of yours, I see."
"I did. But how do you know about it? I won't start it for another seven years yet."
"I many things you would not expect, Verone."
"Before I cut your head off (No! Don't let him cut my head off! screamed Trent inside his own head), give me another example. What else do you know that you think I don't expect?"
"If you've done your homework, you know I'm mafia."
"Yes. Continue. Quickly."
"You went to school."
Nod.
"Then you remember how doing the homework was often worthless."
Impatient nod. Trent saw the hand with the cutting laser twitch.
"Such is the case here," said Vinni with finality, "No amount of homework would ever have given you accurate knowledge of me."
"Prove it."
"Very well. You've read about various historical events throughout history. I was at every one, in various giuses."
"Hmmph." Verone raised the laser.
"I stood next to the President at his turn-of-the-millenium speech." That was over three hundred years ago. Trent agreed with Verone. That was ridiculous.
Verone switched it on, and moved it towards Vinni's neck. Trent cringed inwardly. It was the only kind of cringe he could do. Vinni stood tall, unfased. "Check the photos. It's me."
"You could have doctored them."
"Every photo on the planet? Don't be ridiculous."
"Why should I believe you?"
"Go check them. I'll come with you. You can put that toy to my head the entire time if you wish."
Verone's scientific curiosity won out over his caution. He grabbed Vinni by the back of his coat and dragged him to the elevator.

Vinni was right. Trent looked on and saw his own face smiling in merriment directly behind the President. Or was it? Trent didn't remember ever having such a blocky, angular face. His face, if he remembered correctly, was smoother, more childlike. Yes. He had always been able to attract girls because he had such a cute face. That couldn't be his face. And yet he knew, if he were to look into a mirror, he would see exactly what he saw in the picture. One hand was in the air, waving to the crowd. It was missing a finger. Trent looked at his hand. Sure enough, the middle finger was not among the list of body parts in his posession. But he had never done anything dangerous, knew he had never lost a body part. Hell, Trent had never even broken a bone. What the hell is going on here?
Verone frowned as he checked and rechecked the photo from ever conceivable source. Newspapers. College reports. Message boards. Everywhere, the same picture popped up, the same not-Trent Trent waved merrily behind the same President to the same crowd. Vinni watched the other man take quick glances back at him.
He smiled. "You see?"
Verone's eyes narrowed, and he gave Vinni his full attention. "Who are you?"
"That is not your concern."
"Then why shouldn't I kill you? You murdered my father without batting an eyelash."
"Because you cannot kill me. You would be dead before you could begin."
"Hmmph." Verone raised the cutting laser with a flick of his wrist, aimed it at Vinni's neck, and switched it on before Trent noticed he had begun. But Vinni, with impossible speed, was suddenly behind Verone. Trent looked on in wonder. He knew he couldn't move that quickly. Even with Vinni driving his muscles, he couldn't move that quickly. Vinni drove his hand, fingers stiff, into the back of Verone's neck. There was an audible crunch, and Verone slumped to the ground, dead.
What the hell did you just do!? Trent gibbered.
Vinni answered out loud. "You have had too much time for thought. I am sorry, but I must eliminate you."
WHAT!?
Instead of responding, Vinni pressed a hand to his temple. Trent screamed inside his own head as he felt his soul sucked out into the air and banished into nothingness.

Kel left the body of Vincent Verone, walked out of the room and into the Timescape. He navigated to the end. His fellows were waiting.
It was close, they said.
I know, he said, but I have not failed yet, and never will. You know that.
We know, they said. But be more careful in the future.
The future? said Kel incredulously. And then he began to laugh.



-------

Comments are appreciated.


Last edited by Therin on Tue Mar 02, 2004 2:09 am; edited 1 time in total
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Wins 45 - Losses 36
Level 10
EXP: 6251
HP: 2600
Eligible for battle!
STR: 950
END: 825
ACC: 825
AGI: 800
Gray Matter (Gun)
(240 - 530)
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Daijaga
Chosen of Luck



Gender: Gender:Male
Joined: 17 Dec 2003
PostPosted: Tue Mar 02, 2004 2:01 am    Post subject:

Man that story raises more questions than its answers. Very very wonderfully written though, only a few minor typographical errors. Kept my interest high, althought the action at the end was slightly confusing and I had a hard time figuring out who was talking when Verone and Vinni met up. In any case, thanks for the great read.
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Wins 27 - Losses 38
Level 7
EXP: 6469
HP: 2453
Eligible for battle!
STR: 1013
END: 720
ACC: 611
AGI: 756
Kaledescope (Mace)
(170 - 510)
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Therin
Gloompf. Iggle!



Gender: Gender:Male
Joined: 24 Sep 2002
PostPosted: Tue Mar 02, 2004 2:11 am    Post subject:

Welcome. One of those only comes through my fingers every now and then, but when it does, I like to share it.

I never thought anyone would have trouble differentiating between Vinni and Verone, but I guess I have a skewed perspective, being the writer and all. Thanks for your comments.

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http://kevan.org/johari?name=Therin
Reply with quote
Wins 45 - Losses 36
Level 10
EXP: 6251
HP: 2600
Eligible for battle!
STR: 950
END: 825
ACC: 825
AGI: 800
Gray Matter (Gun)
(240 - 530)
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Minosheep
Doesn't get a custom rank.


Age: 36
Gender: Gender:Male
Joined: 27 Oct 2002
PostPosted: Tue Mar 02, 2004 3:18 pm    Post subject:

Good, good.

Makes me want to take up the ol' pen and begin writing again...

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Wins 44 - Losses 45
Level 10
EXP: 8909
HP: 1835
Eligible for battle!
STR: 325
END: 755
ACC: 920
AGI: 1400
FireGuardian and Bloodreign (Blades)
(365 - 405)
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