“Old-timer, don’t!” Djanet suddenly urged. “We don’t know what’s out there. We could be trapped on the edge of a black hole, for all we know. You could be crushed.”
“The Planck’s field is holding,” Old-timer returned, trying to remain calm. “My field should hold too.”
“The Planck’s field is way more powerful than the one you can generate,” Rich countered, echoing Djanet’s concerns.
“Several trillion times more powerful,” Djanet added.
Old-timer sighed. “I know, and even the MTF generator won’t be able to sustain it for long.”
“Oh my God,” Rich whispered as he checked the Planck platform’s energy readings. “He’s right. We’re draining power...and fast.”
“If we stay here much longer, we’re gonna lose power and won’t be able to cross back to Universe 1,” Old-timer said. “Listen, Rich, Djanet, I have to go. I’ve gotta investigate to see if there’s a way we can get ourselves out of this.”
“Oh no,” Rich said, defeated. “He’s right.”
Djanet remained silent, a look of dread etched on her face.
“It’ll be fine,” Old-timer suddenly said, forcing a smile onto his lips while his eyes remained stricken with terror. He turned to the edge of the Planck, just a pace away from him, to his left. “It’s just one small step for man, right?”
“Maybe we can figure something else out,” Djanet suggested.
“Like what?” Old-timer responded with a shrug. “Our sensors are down. We’re completely blind. The only way for us to know if there’s anything out there is for one of us to go check it out.”
Again, Djanet was silenced. She put her hand to her mouth and bowed her head, shaking it regretfully.
Rich put his arm around Djanet’s shoulder and looked up at Old-timer. “Craig Emilson, you’ve got some big ones.”
Despite the terror coursing through his veins, Old-timer nearly laughed. “Rich, hearing you use my real name is more unsettling than the prospect of stepping off this platform. Please, please for the love of everything holy, don’t ever call me that again.”
Rich nodded. “Yeah, it didn’t feel right.” He sucked in his lips before speaking again, barely overcoming his dry throat. “Good luck, Old-timer.”
“Thanks,” Old-timer returned. He turned and closed his eyes again, meditatively. Just one small step, he thought to himself. He put his right foot out, ignited his magnetic field, then thrust himself forward against the plane of the unknown.
*****
When he opened his eyes, he was floating alone in the blackness. His magnetic field had disappeared. What the hell is this, now? When he put his hands out in front of his face, he could still see them. He turned around to look behind himself and saw that he’d floated a few meters from the Planck platform, but it was still there, Rich and Djanet standing together, their faces awe-struck.
He immediately saw why.
Crumpled at their feet, curled in the fetal position, was Old-timer’s unconscious body.
“Okay, maybe I am dead,” he whispered to himself.
He waved his hand above his head to see if Rich and Djanet could see him, but they didn’t return his signal, as both of them were bent over his body, trying to resuscitate him.
In a life that had seen some of the most bizarre turns of events of any human to ever live, Old-timer found himself face to face with perhaps the strangest turn yet, and it was about to get far stranger.
“Craig?” a voice suddenly asked from behind him.
The tone was so familiar but so buried in his memory that it stunned him and sent shivers throughout his body to hear it again.
“Oh my God! Craig? Craig, is that you?”
Old-timer turned slowly, dreading what he’d see, praying that his mind was playing tricks on him. When he’d turned around fully, his worst fears were realized.
Samantha, as young and vibrant as she had been when she’d been killed by Colonel Paine, launched into a running stride toward him and threw her ghostly arms around him, holding her body tight against his. “I can’t believe it’s you!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe it! Oh my God! Craig, I’ve missed you so much!” Her voice cracked as she spoke, the emotion overwhelming her as her tears began to flow. “I love you!”
Old-timer floated in the perfect blackness, his dead wife’s arms around him, and whispered to himself, “I am fortune’s fool.”
13
“What the hell is he talking about?” Thel asked, looking at James.
“Why do you say that?” James asked, pushing Thel’s question away as he spoke directly to the candidate, keeping an outwardly calm demeanor as he tried to determine what had gone wrong. “What would make you think we’re going to die?”