Saving the Day

Eddies of solar radiation swirled around the Horseman as he called the star’s energies to power him as he prepared to open a chronal gate. He had done this once before, and the attempt had taxed his power immensely, because of that, he felt justified in using an external source, such as the star, since no one was using it anymore. The star was now half its former size, but it was not collapsing in on itself. Poe was pulling energy away fast enough that the star lost mass and power equally. Contrary to logical thought, the Horseman was not glowing or growing hotter, he was merely a conduit for the power he was stealing. It channeled through him and was converted into anti-chronal particles. It took a lot to alter the flow of time, even mere minutes could be draining and he was attempting an even larger leap. He carefully shaped the expelled particles into a fourth-dimensional mass that would implode on his command when he was ready.

Two things slowed his progress. Firstly, it was a delicate matrix that he was forming. He had to place each particle individually into a structure that defied time. That meant that it also defied space. So, he was building his construct in a subspace pocket dimension and it required his utmost concentration; he knew that a singularly misplaced atom would result in a failure that would destroy everything around him for no less than one hundred light years spherically. Considering that would also include him, he was going to take his time and make sure things were done right. The second factor was that he was not going to travel in time; time was going to travel around him. This made his task all that much easier. Reversing all of time was almost impossible if you were in it, but a small portion could be rebounded back, pulling him along in its momentum.

Once the matrix was formed he would cut the area of space that he currently occupied from the rest of the universe. He would then draw the matrix into himself in a way similar to water being sucked through a straw. He had to know the exact place and time that he wanted the “water” to stop in the straw so that he could enter it. Once in that rewound chunk of time, he would have about ten real time seconds to achieve his goal before he had to use the remaining energy from the sun to reverse the “water’s” flow.

He was not looking forward to that event at all because it would not be similar to stepping through a doorway, but would feel more like he had been snapped back to his original position by a giant rubber band. It didn’t matter if the girl survived or not. He had more than enough power to restore and revitalize her if that occurred. Human bodies were fragile, but they were also resilient; he could restore dead cells to life with ease depending on how long the person being revitalized had been dead, and hers would be a very fresh corpse.

He floated in space, arms spread out as if he were embracing the great void, his legs together, toes pointed downward. The lack of a solar wind did not stop his robes from twisting like snakes in a hurricane. Shadows swirled around him, tenebrous and stygian in depth. The light of the dying sun behind him had no effect on his dusky wardrobe they remained darker than a black hole. Finally, he dropped his left hand to his side, and pointed his right hand, finger extended at the shimmering ball of anti-time. At once he spoke and yet did not speak, words came, but were without form. They were without sound. Had he lips they would have mouthed, “Say not, “Why were the former days better than these? For it is not from wisdom that you ask this,” but his rictus smile made no deviation to indicate that he had made a vocalization of any kind.

Serpentine and swiftly it extended a strand of sparkling energy towards him. It slithered through the space between them like a striking snake and struck him in his chest. He was not as prepared as he had thought as the sudden burst of pain nearly caused him to blackout. Machiavelli was strong, however, and he managed to maintain his focus as the unchronal powers surged through him. This was the balancing act. His actions had to de as delicate as a butterfly's wings in a hurricane, but it felt like he was attempting to cut a toenail with a chainsaw. He now had to continue to draw power from the sun in order to maintain the matrix’s form while simultaneously pulling the anti-time through his body until he recognized his destination.

He had no idea of how long he had to juggle those energies, or if there was even a passage of time to note. For all he knew he had created a null space, a place where time and space were merely concepts, and if that were the case he could spend a trillion years in an external second or a second in a trillion years. This was why he did not manipulate time. It was dangerous and would induce madness in lesser caliber minds.

At last, he came to a point where the Earth was rebuilding itself. He was shocked at how quickly the process actually was; the Invigilator played no games, he had snatched Mason and crushed the planet within seconds. It was an impressive feat. Poe could admit that to himself. He had destroyed so many worlds that he knew all the intricacies of the job, and his former master had made it look easy. He refused to believe, that for the Invigilator, destroying a world was actually effortless for him.

The reversal continued until he was floating over the area that the coffee shop had stood. He waited as it rebuilt itself and he drifted, immaterially, through the building’s roof. He watched as death was unspooled and people rose from the ground no longer crushed or on fire. He zeroed in on his target, the female known as Sarah Crowe, and settled behind her.

He marveled that this was the woman that Mason had lusted after. She was so plain. He had never seen a more unassuming female. She was short and had no color at all. She dressed, he noted, as if she were going to a funeral. There was something about her eyes. He could admit that. She had eyes that were at once entrancing and mysterious. He could instantly see that there was something more to this woman than he’d first imagined. There was something hidden behind those verdant orbs; something that he had no doubt that his replacement had failed to note when he looked inside them. A faint shiver of fear ran up his spine. What was it that she was hiding?

The girl was still frantically looking around as the first signs of the apocalypse started, but within moments he could see her talking to that vapid Mason via a viewing hologram. He let the flow of time crawl to a stop, and he phased into the past effortlessly. He could see Mason on her HUD, he could hear his adversary clearly now, “What I’m saying is that there is nobody that I want to grow old with, nobody I would want with me from now until the end of the world. Sarah Crowe, will you please consent to being the one love of my life from now until the end of the world? Will you marry . .” He watched as her HUD cut out and the first vibrations began. Poe did not wait. This was the moment in which he had to act; he could not delay. He did not try to explain anything to her. He simply reached out, grabbed her by the shoulders, and hugged her close to him.

Her co-worker, Pat, saw this and the last thing he thought before a cappuccino machine was thrown across the room and crushed his head was that he had just seen the Angel of Death. He could not have been more right. Poe would have appreciated the thought.

With the girl secured he released his grip on the temporal matrix he’d created, allowing it to collapse back in upon itself. The implosion wrenched them from that stolen moment and catapulted them back into the NOW. Poe felt that the return trip could have been much worse. He had expected more resistance upon his reentry into real-time again. He checked, both he and the girl were unharmed, although she had passed out from what he would approximate as something similar to a G-force. Her skin was clammy and she was covered in a sheen of cold sweat. The little color that she’d had when she was back on her Earth had drained away. It didn’t matter to him one way or another, she would live and that was all that he cared about.

It was then that he noticed that the area of space they’d returned to was very dark, he had used up more of the sun than he had expected. There was nothing left of it. Not a trace. There was no heat signature, no residual radiation. There was nothing to mark its passing. He almost felt a pang of regret, but then he realized that this entire universe was now void of life, and there was no reason to care. The sun served no purpose any longer, and it had, he considered, at least been used to fulfill a need. As far as he was concerned his needs were paramount to anything else, and if he’d needed to subsume the energies of a thousand stars then he would have done so.

It took him much longer to get his bearings than it did for his arrogance to return. He checked his internal chronometer and found that they had actually returned four weeks later than when he had left. His rictus grin twisted into a scowl. That was four weeks that fool Declan had to get to better acquaint himself with his new powers. The man would have time to settle in and possibly experiment with his abilities. He was more dangerous now than he had hoped he would be. This meant even more time to scout him and reevaluate his strengths. He was going to have to rethink his whole plan based on just how advanced Mason had become.

Mason did not worry him. Poe had no doubt that he could take the man at his leisure, but he didn’t want to run the risk of being hurt unnecessarily. Mason was like a porcupine. Poe could take him out, but might suffer a quill in the process. There was no point to being hasty.

Besides, he mused, he had the man’s woman; the woman that he loved more than anything else. He could simply dangle her in front of him, and Mason would jump through hoops to get her back safely. He was in no danger so long as he held her as a reserve trump card. He smiled inwardly, he would make the man dance before he’d deliver his precious Sarah to him. When he was done with him, he might actually allow them to embrace one another before he vaporized them. He could be magnanimous. He could allow them that much. He was not a monster.

Hishoverbikee drifted to him with his mental call. Poe tossed the girl over his shoulder and seated himself on his ride. Fatigue hit him the moment that he stopped using his power to move through the void of space on his own. He had not realized just how drained he actually was, and now could feel the strength seep from his weary bones. He would put off his surveillance of Mason until he recovered. For now, he would focus on the girl and gaining his strength back.