least see what happened and what mistakes I made, that might help me in this environment. It couldn’t change the fact that I’m caught in this transient cycle and will continue to go round and round, one way or another,” enquired Ed.
“T’is true.”
“Well let’s go and see him then.”
“It is not so easy. It takes between two and three days to get there. That’s why your timepiece will be most useful. Then, if he can be persuaded to share his information, we do not know how long it would take to get from there to the other streams - if they even exist. T’is a big befuddle. If they did not, then you would lose your chance to jump, as it would be past the four-day point of no return. He is also, so I hear, very fussy about first-time Transients. He prefers to be consulted only by the experienced, apparently.”
“Oh. That’s a conundrum.”
“Tis my wise observation to suggest it is too late to embark on this journey now. My feeling is that you should risk another transience and see if you can perhaps be paused in the next jump back. Apparently, t’is possible: if you concentrate really hard at the time of death, you can partially cause a pause. I know not if this be true, but it will be something to bear in mind.”
Ed sat thoughtfully listening to Thomas, who continued.
“Another thing is that if you are paused and rescued, it is very likely you would not find yourself in this community. You may end up further along in a different community which might not have access to the area where the Viking lives. Maybe there would not be any speakers of English there. Tis a ‘conundrum’ as you call it.”
“At least I have my watch to identify a timeframe. Lucky I had that on.”
“Well there is always something positive in death,” joked Thomas as he departed into the tunnel.
“I will return in an hour or so. Then we will awake you for your jump.”
“Okay. See you then, and thanks again for all your help.”
Ed lay back down on the bed, discarding the silk sheet beside him. The silence was beautiful, crystal and pure, perfect and impenetrable. It gave such a marvellous platform for calm thoughts. He reflected on the past few days: Sam, the tortoise experiences, Thomas and the whole array of totally psychologically shocking things that had been revealed to him. He was somewhat surprised at how rational he had remained and how well he had adjusted to the fast changing situation. It was not an easy time and it really called for a calm head.
Soon a mumbling in the doorway pierced the silence. He couldn’t make it out but sat up and shouted, “Come in, come in,” expecting there to be a curious guest outside.
“Oh, hi, hello, hi. My name is George, George, ehm, George George,” exclaimed a nervous looking small man dressed in a cord dressing gown and tweed slippers. His thinning hair was heavily greased back over his head, desperate to hide a barren scalp. Thin matted yarns stuck steadfastly to the skin, revealing open patches of baldness underneath. Apart from that, he was clean-shaven, neat and tidy and Ed guessed him to be in his early fifties.
“George, or George George?” enquired Ed.
“George George I’m afraid. Very cruel of my parents,” explained George, as he ventured into the room.
“I think it is pretty unique. I like it,” said Ed reassuringly before adding, “I’m Ed, Ed Trew. It’s good to be talking normally without all that ‘Thou behest my Lord, for thou art the angel of perplexity’ stuff.”
“Pardon? Oh, you mean Thomas? Can take a bit of getting used to but he’s a sweet fella, don’t you think?” replied George as they shook hands before Ed moved back on the bed and sat cross-legged.
“Yes, he’s lovely. I didn’t mean anything nasty. I really meant to say I was glad to see you’re a more modern guy, with a more common tongue, George.”
“Common?” queried George as he perched delicately on the small stool opposite the bed.
“Common
“T’is true.”
“Well let’s go and see him then.”
“It is not so easy. It takes between two and three days to get there. That’s why your timepiece will be most useful. Then, if he can be persuaded to share his information, we do not know how long it would take to get from there to the other streams - if they even exist. T’is a big befuddle. If they did not, then you would lose your chance to jump, as it would be past the four-day point of no return. He is also, so I hear, very fussy about first-time Transients. He prefers to be consulted only by the experienced, apparently.”
“Oh. That’s a conundrum.”
“Tis my wise observation to suggest it is too late to embark on this journey now. My feeling is that you should risk another transience and see if you can perhaps be paused in the next jump back. Apparently, t’is possible: if you concentrate really hard at the time of death, you can partially cause a pause. I know not if this be true, but it will be something to bear in mind.”
Ed sat thoughtfully listening to Thomas, who continued.
“Another thing is that if you are paused and rescued, it is very likely you would not find yourself in this community. You may end up further along in a different community which might not have access to the area where the Viking lives. Maybe there would not be any speakers of English there. Tis a ‘conundrum’ as you call it.”
“At least I have my watch to identify a timeframe. Lucky I had that on.”
“Well there is always something positive in death,” joked Thomas as he departed into the tunnel.
“I will return in an hour or so. Then we will awake you for your jump.”
“Okay. See you then, and thanks again for all your help.”
Ed lay back down on the bed, discarding the silk sheet beside him. The silence was beautiful, crystal and pure, perfect and impenetrable. It gave such a marvellous platform for calm thoughts. He reflected on the past few days: Sam, the tortoise experiences, Thomas and the whole array of totally psychologically shocking things that had been revealed to him. He was somewhat surprised at how rational he had remained and how well he had adjusted to the fast changing situation. It was not an easy time and it really called for a calm head.
Soon a mumbling in the doorway pierced the silence. He couldn’t make it out but sat up and shouted, “Come in, come in,” expecting there to be a curious guest outside.
“Oh, hi, hello, hi. My name is George, George, ehm, George George,” exclaimed a nervous looking small man dressed in a cord dressing gown and tweed slippers. His thinning hair was heavily greased back over his head, desperate to hide a barren scalp. Thin matted yarns stuck steadfastly to the skin, revealing open patches of baldness underneath. Apart from that, he was clean-shaven, neat and tidy and Ed guessed him to be in his early fifties.
“George, or George George?” enquired Ed.
“George George I’m afraid. Very cruel of my parents,” explained George, as he ventured into the room.
“I think it is pretty unique. I like it,” said Ed reassuringly before adding, “I’m Ed, Ed Trew. It’s good to be talking normally without all that ‘Thou behest my Lord, for thou art the angel of perplexity’ stuff.”
“Pardon? Oh, you mean Thomas? Can take a bit of getting used to but he’s a sweet fella, don’t you think?” replied George as they shook hands before Ed moved back on the bed and sat cross-legged.
“Yes, he’s lovely. I didn’t mean anything nasty. I really meant to say I was glad to see you’re a more modern guy, with a more common tongue, George.”
“Common?” queried George as he perched delicately on the small stool opposite the bed.
“Common
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