Immortal (40 page)

Within a few seconds, she felt a tingle at
the base of her neck. She gasped, and almost pulled the band off
her head. But she recalled John’s explicit instructions. A tingling
was normal, he had said. Something to do with the device synching
with the interface, or some such techno-babble crap, she thought.
The tingling came in waves now, a low rhythmic sensation, that made
her mind begin to fall in on itself. She tried to fight the
feeling. She tried to lift her hands to remove the band, but she
couldn’t. She felt as if her entire body had suddenly become
paralyzed. Fear welled up inside her, as darkness overtook her. All
sound ceased. It was nothingness. No sensations. No Light. No sense
of touch or taste. She was alone. Utterly and completely alone as
she had never been before in her life. And she was terrified. Help,
she thought. I need help. Suddenly, before her eyes, a menu screen
appeared, floating just in front of her eyes in the darkness.

There were several choices on the hovering
menu screen, HELP being the one currently highlighted. Shocked, but
slowly calming down, John’s words came back to her. If you need
help, he had said, just think, help. She couldn’t help but laugh at
the fear she had felt just moments before. She focused on another
menu option, and it became highlighted. Princess Tea Party, it
said. That was what she wanted. Suddenly the menu screen flew away,
and another screen presented her with but one option. Bradlie was
highlighted. This was it. Again the menu flew away and left her in
total darkness. Once more she felt a sensation at the base of her
neck, and then gradually the ambiance around her began to brighten.
Very slowly at first, almost imperceptibly, and then suddenly the
entire room surrounded her.

She was in a Medieval era tea parlor. Still
seated, she glanced around the massive room. The walls were of
rough hewn stone. The huge fireplace was ablaze, and she could feel
the warmth from the flames across the room. Ornate tapestries
adorned one wall, full size suits of gleaming armor lined another.
Amazed at the opulence of the surroundings, she leapt to her feet.
She caught her foot in the leg of the chair where she had sat, and
nearly fell. A last second grasp of the chair arm kept her from
hitting the ground. As she raised back up, and let her hand uncurl
from the arm of the chair, she realized that it was made of gold.
Beautifully gilded with intricate carvings, inlaid jewels, and what
must have been ivory. She had never seen such a beautiful piece
before. Bright light sparkled in her eyes, and she noticed the
large window on the remaining wall. Cautiously she stepped towards
it.

Looking out, she could see that she was high
up, several stories in fact, and below her, the walls were made of
huge blocks of stone. Massive stones, fitted together with the
precision of a mason’s hands. Beneath the stonework, an ornate draw
bridge joined the castle entrance with the vast green meadow beyond
the great moat. Meadow grasses waived gently in the wind as far as
she could see, and the flowery scent drifted around her. Amazed,
she let her hand rest on the stone window sill and marveled at the
warmth of the sun she felt from its rough finish.

“Good day, me Lady.” A voice startled her
from behind. She spun around, as a young maiden sat a glistening
silver tea service on a table near the fireplace. Grace noticed the
simplicity of her dress, and the odd braiding of her long hair.
Grace stepped towards her when she realized that she herself was
wearing a heavy floor length dress. The material was velvet like to
the touch, and a deep maroon in color. With each step across the
flagstone floor, the dress swayed and billowed. She giggled, and
spun around. The dress blossomed around her.

“Beautiful.” She said.

“Aye, me Lady. It ‘tis.” The young girl said
with a heavy Scottish accent, and gave a short curtsy. “The
Princess Bradlie is on her way up now, me Lady. Shall there be
anything else?” She asked. Grace took the final steps to approach
her, yet the girl shied away from her.

“It’s okay.” Grace said softly. “I just want
to have a look at you.” Again she stepped closer. This time the
girl stayed still, but was obviously uncomfortable at the scrutiny.
Grace reached up and gently traced her hand up one of the girl’s
braids. The hair was fine to the touch, and the braiding quite
detailed and artistic. She bent closer and sniffed. No perfume,
just the smell of slight sweat. An earthly smell.

“Me, Lady?” The girl asked. Grace touched the
bare skin of her arm. It was soft and warm. “Me, Lady!” The girl
exclaimed, snatching her arm away, and rushing towards the door.
She gave a last puzzled look back, curtsied, and hurriedly left the
room. Grace laughed.

“Amazing.” she said. She glanced again around
the room, and then saw it. Above the fireplace hung a huge framed
canvas. In the center, standing next to her trusty white steed, was
a beautiful young woman. The immaculate dress flowed down her body
in graceful swaying lines. The jeweled tiara atop her head
glistened in the hauntingly painted light. But no light, real or
painted could compete with her smile. It was Bradlie.

“Grandma?” Grace turned, and there she was.
Wearing a long flowing white gown, encrusted with jewels.

“Bradlie!” She exclaimed, not noticing the
serious look on her granddaughter’s face.

“Oh, Grand Mama. It is Princess Bradlie, if
you please.” She said with an extreme note of exaggeration. Grace
looked at her, dumbfounded. Bradlie burst into laughter, and ran to
her, her skirt billowed behind her. She wrapped her arms around
Grace, who hugged her back as eagerly. Grace bent down and kissed
her forehead.

“Isn’t this cool?” Bradlie said.

“It’s...amazing.” Grace replied, as they held
hands and both surveyed the room.

“Oh, look. Glenda brought tea!” Bradlie said,
racing to the table.

“Glenda?”

“Yeah, Glenda. That’s what I call her.”

“Like from the Wizard of Oz, Glenda?” Grace
asked.

“Nah, just Glenda. I like that name.”

“But what’s her real name?”

“She doesn’t have one.”

“How can she not have a name?” Grace asked,
clearly perplexed now.

“Because she’s not real.” Bradlie explained
as she began to pour the steaming aromatic tea into the tiny silver
cups. And for a moment the answer had caught Grace off guard. She
was right, the girl was not real. None of this was real, no matter
how very real it seemed. She tucked her dress behind her and slid
into the chair.

“Cream?” Bradlie asked. Grace nodded, as she
still pondered the extreme realism she was experiencing. Bradlie
added cream to both cups, and then asked about sugar. Again Grace
nodded, and Bradlie ladled several spoonfuls into the cup, and gave
it a quick stir. She carefully picked it up and handed it to Grace.
The warmth of the liquid came through the metal of the cup, and was
almost to warm to hold comfortably. The aroma of the steam was
intoxicating, mouthwatering peppermint with a hint of vanilla.
Grace brought the cup to her lips and took a small sip. The tea was
almost too hot, but not so hot that it burned her tongue. The mint
was refreshing. The silky texture of the cream rolled through her
mouth, and the sweetness coupled with the vanilla made it
scrumptious.

“Delightful!” She exclaimed.

“Isn’t it though, Grand Mama.” Bradlie said
with a flair, finishing her first sip. “Pinkies up!” She said, as
she wiggled her pinky in the air.

“Pinkies up.” Grace replied, mimicking her
granddaughter, and wiggled her pinky as well. “Are those crumpets?”
She said, pointing at the baked morsels arranged on the silver
tray.

“Why no, Grand Mama. No plain old crumpets
for us princesses. Those are scones!”

“Scones? And what do you know of scones
little one?”

“That’s Princess little one, Grandma.” She
giggled. “I know they taste good.” She said as she picked one up
and took a bite. Grace reached across and selected one for herself.
The biscuit felt rough to the touch, and as she brought it to her
mouth, she could smell the bitter sweet scent of blueberry. The
light caught the crystallized sugared top and sparkled. She took a
small bite. The taste was exquisite, with a firm outer crust, flaky
pastry inside, and a hint of blueberry. She was amazed. Suddenly
there was movement in her peripheral vision. She turned just in
time to see a small gray and white striped tabby kitten leap to the
window sill.

“And who have we here?” Grace asked.

“Oh, that’s Miss Kitty. Isn’t she pretty?”
Grace nodded, as she watched the tiny thing lick its paws.
Satisfied that they were clean, Miss Kitty then turned around
several times, and settled down in the warmth of the sunshine. She
laid her head across her paws and stared lazily at Grace. The
kitten opened her eyes, and the light reflected out of her irises,
with a saturated blue that would rival the most azure Caribbean
waters. Grace gasped.

“She is beautiful!” She exclaimed. She had
never seen such a beautiful irradiant blue before. She rose up and
stepped slowly towards the window. Miss Kitty watched her warily,
but did not move. Grace took another step, and was suddenly
startled by a flicker of darkness across her vision. It came again,
and she felt her balance shift. She quickly raised her arms to keep
from falling, when again a dark flash hit her.

“Grandma?” Bradlie asked, the worry evident
in her voice. And just like that, it was gone. Her balance
returned, her vision cleared, and all was well. She looked around
the room, and everything was as it had been. She smiled at
Bradlie.

“I’m fine.” She said, and turned back to Miss
Kitty. She had not moved. The kitten still lay lazily in the sun.
Grace stepped a little closer, and noticed that the kitten’s eye
color had changed. Now her eyes irradiated with a pale green. She
stepped a little closer, and suddenly Miss Kitty had had enough.
She jumped form the window sill, and shot through the doorway, tail
held high behind her.

“Bradlie, dear? What color are Miss Kitty’s
eyes?” She asked her granddaughter as she walked back to her
chair.

“Green, Grandma. Weren’t they pretty?”

“Yes.” Grace replied calmly, but confused. It
must have been a play of the light, she thought. Just the angle,
that was all. She sat back down and the two of them continued their
princess tea party in the grandest style, also careful to keep
their pinkies up. When another hour had passed, it was time for the
party to come to an end. They hugged, kissed, and Princess Bradlie
left the room. Grace sat back in the chair, closed her eyes, and
relaxed. A few seconds passed without event, and just as she was
about to open her eyes, the menu appeared in her mind. The word,
exit, was highlighted. She mentally selected the option. She felt
the warmth of the room fall away from her, the crackling from the
fireplace ceased, and once again she felt alone in a void. Seconds
ticked by, as her pulse began to race. Fear once again welled up in
her even though she knew that she was perfectly safe. Seconds
ticked by in the darkness, and then gradually the room swam into
focus.

She was back in the hotel. She took a deep
breath and exhaled, slowly gathering herself. Absentmindedly she
pulled the VirtuaScape band from her head, and rubbed her eyes. A
message appeared across her vision on her Smart Contact. Thanks,
Grandma! It was a blast! Though a bit shaken from the experience,
she couldn’t help but smile. Little Bradlie was right. It had been
a blast. Sure, a little scary at first. But it had been amazing.
Everything had been so real. Almost too real, she thought as she
got up. She picked up her tea cup, and thought it odd that it still
felt warm. She took a sip, and realized the temperature had not
changed much at all from when she had sat it down hours ago. She
blinked and checked the time. Only fifteen minutes had passed since
she had begun the VirtuaScape event. How could that be? Only
fifteen minutes. She and Bradlie had talked for hours, drank tea,
and ate scones. They had even played Old Maid and Go Fish. How
could only fifteen minutes have passed, she wondered.

She sent John a message asking about the time
lapse. He responded almost immediately with an answer that was way
over her head. Something about time dilation, synapse stimulation,
electromagnetic delta waves, and several other things that Grace
could care less about. In essence, he had said that it was normal
and don’t worry about it. Okay, Grace thought, that’s good enough
for me. She rose from the chair, tea in hand, and walked back into
the living room. There was an air of gloom in the room, dark behind
the thick draperies.

“Curtains, open.” She said, and the drapes
whisked open, letting the warmth of the sunlight shine in. Grace
smiled.

by Kelvin Kelley

Coming Soon

by Kelvin Kelley

When Homicide Detective Jack King’s family is
brutally murdered by a psychopathic assassin, he travels back in
time through an experimental portal in an effort to stop the
murders before they can occur. If he fails, their blood will be on
his hands.

The newly functioning machine can only open a
portal to a specific point in the past. June 7th at 1845 hours, the
night his family died. But when Jack emerges in the past, he cannot
stop events from occurring as they did the first time. He
desperately races against time tracking the man who will kill his
family, while trying to avoid his other self and accidentally
setting off a sequence of events that could disrupt the future
forever. If he can stop the killer in time, they live. If not, they
die. Again.