Threads of Time

I suffer from a dread complaint known to some as the Luck of the Irish. Somewhere hidden in the depths of time my distant ancestor must have really pissed off a leprechaun. When things go wrong for me, they go phenomenally wrong. When things go right for me, they go miraculously right. I should be dead at least a dozen times over.

I am not immortal (at least I don't think so) and certainly not unbreakable but I've learned I'm really hard to kill. Until recently, I never knew why.

There is not just one reality, but many. I was never meant to be in any of them. Continuity constantly tries to reassert itself and erase the foreign body known as Tonya Kennigan.

My day had been perfectly normal until I walked by the federal building. A man was seated on the cement bench in front of it wearing a deep gray suit with an average looking black briefcase on his lap. He looked perfectly normal aside from the fact that the entire lower half of his face was swathed in bandages. The bandages started at the bridge of his nose and extended to under his chin. They were dirty and soaked with blood, fresh and red. My mind groped for an explanation but found none readily. There was no obvious way for him to breathe yet he sat there looking around. Passersby did not seem to notice anything odd about him.

"Sir, are you all right?" I asked. It was as if I didn't exist, he seemed to see right through me. Thinking he might be in shock, I touched him gently on the shoulder and repeated," Sir, are you all right?" He looked up at me, blinking in surprise. I noticed that his chest neither rose nor fell with respiration. Fear struggled in my mind, mortality thrumming in my head like some ancient insect.

I felt something close on my very soul like a vise, and a voice filled my bones with a chill vibration.

"How do you notice me?"

"I don't know," I silently replied, "I've never seen you here before."

"No one has ever seen me here before. That's why I always come here."

"I, I'm sorry. I'll forget I ever saw you."

"No, I need your help."

"I can't...I don't...how?"

"Take my briefcase and everything will become clear to you."

Suddenly, I was released. Air whistled into my lungs and I could move again. The bloody man was gone though I didn't see him leave. His briefcase sat on the bench. I grabbed for it as if it would jump away. I started walking towards my car then burst into a run, my mind shrieking like some atavistic ape. I had driven halfway to my apartment before I even realized I'd reached my car.

Cars streaked down the rain-slicked streets like water down a windshield as my mind whirled. I kept glancing at the briefcase sitting on the passenger seat. It was not as ordinary as I had supposed. It was made of something like ostrich hide stretched over metal casing. The latch was anything but ordinary. An opalescent metal, translucent as moonlight, was wrought into fanciful designs forming ornate hinges and a complicated sort of closure. As I pulled into my carport I reached over and touched it. The case was strangely warm. Forgetting to put my car in park, I released the brake and crunched up on the curb. Shaking with excitement I slammed the car in park and hopped out clutching the case to my chest.

Once inside my apartment I opened the case. It wasn't easy; the thing was complicated as a Turkish puzzle ring. Parts that hadn't seemed separate before slipped around under my fingers. A piece with a phoenix-like bird on it slid under a leaping jaguar and the case popped open like it was spring loaded. I jumped back, dropping it.

The bottom half of the case was a single, large mirror. The top contained compartments filled with odd containers. When something moved inside a small clear vial I dropped it onto the mirror. The vial disappeared into the reflective surface.

"What the Hell?' I exclaimed.

Gingerly, I touched the mirror. There was a mild resistance as if I were putting my hand into water. I stuck my arm in up to the elbow.

My fingers brushed something inside the mirror. It was the vial. Retrieving it, I looked more closely at it. Inside was a swirling black object. I stuck the vial back into its cubbyhole in the upper lid. Closing the case I settled it on my lap and reached for the phone. I hit speed dial.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Varian? "

Twenty minutes later I was knocking on Varian's door and letting myself in. Around the living room bits of computer equipment lay scattered on the floor.

"You're alone, right?" I said.

A muffled response came from the bedroom, "Hang on, I'll be right out."

I locked the deadbolt and safety chain then pushed his wheelchair into the living room.

"Are we going somewhere?" he asked as he crawled into the room.

"I'm not sure but you have to look at this." I said as he lurched into his wheelchair.

I set the case in his lap.

"What's in it? It's really warm."

"Here, let me." I said as I slipped the bird under the cat once more.

"Holy crap!" He exclaimed as the briefcase popped open. Immediately he reached for one of the vials. "What are these?"

"I have no idea, but put that back and touch the mirror."

He complied. Slowly, a huge grin spread across his face, "Do you know what you have here?" he asked.

"I have no clue."

"I haven't seen one of these in twenty years," he said with a smile.

"So what is it?" I demanded.

"This is gonna be a long story so you might as well sit down." Varian replied.