Chapter 2:

Almost five years later.

"Janusssss!" The floor shook as Rose's voice belted out from the first floor. She had the most amazing way of projecting her voice, likely from her training as a singer in an age with no microphones.

No microphones.

Janus remarked, flipping a couple of pages over in his journal and scratching another line onto the long-running list of items that seemed to not be present in this world. The quill scratched and squeaked as it pressed into the thick parchment paper. He let out a soft sigh of frustration as the ink ran messily under his chicken scratches, once again he'd misjudged the amount of ink needed. His eyes glanced back up to the top of his inventory, the very first entry being 'No ballpoint pens'.

He underlined the row once again in frustration, the number of emphasizing understrokes now at 7.

"JANUSSSSS! Don't make me come up there!" The shout continued, shaking him out of his reverie.

"Coming! Just a moment!" He replied with as much volume as his 5-year-old lungs could muster.

He looked down at his journal again, now filling nearly an entire four-hundred-page book. He softly blew warm air over the fresh writing he'd just put to paper, knowing that the ink would smear and press against the back of the opposite page if he wasn't patient but not wanting to leave his journal in the open.

Not that it mattered.

He knew that it had already been found and opened, from how the hair he placed over the cover when he hid it under his bed had been disturbed. His writing had not been deciphered. He would have expected whoever had found his journal to confront him on the contents if they could understand the English characters, vocabulary, and grammar. The content of his musings about his past life and this world would have been too shocking.

Most of the pages were filled with observations about his past life.

Starting at the age of two, he'd been jotting down each thought, vision, feeling, emotion, skill... any of the mental pulses associated with that ancient part of his mind as it slowly unlocked. Writing it down wasn't necessary for remembering - his young mind could recall things almost photographically. It did help him to process the emotions that came with the 'unlocking', though.

It seemed every part of his former mind was suffused with dark, deep emotions, with few exceptions.

As Richard, he'd been a troubled man. A clever man, who'd excelled in his studies of computer science and programming, and turned that passion into a lucrative career. But he'd also been very lonely - few family, fewer friends. And no close relationships of any kind.

Janus sighed, as he closed the book softly, sliding it under the bed and a folded blanket kept there, his usual hiding spot.

I wonder why I was like that. Unhappy.

That mystery had not revealed itself yet. All he knew was that with each 'unlocking', a wave of loneliness and anxiety would roll through him, sometimes so powerful as to make his stomach churn. His first reaction was always to run to his mother's side, cling to her leg, and bask in her love. His more mature mind knew this coping method would work for only so long.

So he'd started writing things out. Processing things. Trying to understand his past self. His current self. The integration between the two versions of himself was slow and painful.

It would be so easy to pretend that he was only Janus and that Richard was some strange curse, a tumor-like growth to be excised somehow. But Richard was his identity as much as Janus.

More so even.

Forty-six years of my previous life easily trumped the mere five years of this one. Janus thought to himself, doing the simple math in his head. Well, maybe it's not THAT simple. The last five years have certainly been exciting. He grinned to himself.

Ever since that night when he'd first seen the horizon, the ringworld stretching away from him as he spoke his first words in wonder, every day had felt filled with opportunity.

Janus knew, from his previous life's love of science fiction, just what such a ringworld implied.

Interstellar technology! No, more than that... Stellar-engineering! Humanity is practically a type II Kardashev civilization! He grinned to himself as he headed toward the stairs. I can't even imagine what we've done, what we CAN do... there's so much to know!

He sighed as he gripped the banister and began to trot down the stairs.

And yet no way to crack into all that knowledge.

He'd made some brief trips around this small pastoral town. It was called: A'kaira, which he roughly translated to 'Sanctuary' in the Kyazeran tongue, or 'English 2.0' as he referred to it in his journal, playfully.

Each of the trips had just revealed more mysteries.

The culture seemed frozen in a strange, hodge-podge mix of late-medieval, late-colonial societal norms.

Jobs seemed to break down into laborers, skilled laborers, tradespeople, and craftsmen, and some very few learned professionals of law, medicine, and simple engineering. Families were the bedrock of the village, every man either a husband or striving to be one. Every woman was a mother, or certain to become one. Trades were passed from parent to child, and life seemed a constant battle to just hold on. Each harvest the town seemed to hold its collective breath, wondering if come Christmas time the tables would still be laden with food... or if new belt holes would be punched for a leaner winter.

It made no sense. Not if humankind had at some point mastered the technology to the point they could build something millions of times the size of a planet.

"There you are, Janus!" Rose looked up the staircase at him, a smile on her face, her hand on her hip. Her apron still had flour on it from the biscuits she would bake every afternoon, "I was calling you!"

"I know Mom." Janus grinned, "The dust was shaking from the rafters." He teased, as he sprung down the last two steps and leaped into his mother's arms.

"Honestly," Rose giggled, "I need to be so loud to drag your head out of those books!" She put him down, ruffling his black hair. "Have you already gotten through the latest stories your father lent you?"

And more. There's scarcely a book in Father's library I haven't read yet. Janus thought with a wry grin. "Almost! I hope he's got some more lined up." He took his mother's hand as she led him toward the kitchen.

Rose looked down at her son with unvarnished pride. "Really now, Janus? That's stuff your mom struggles with!" Her eyes sparkled with wonder, "Did you hear that Ellena? Janus is nearly through Shakespeare." Ellena's usually smiling face turned toward him, cold gray eyes and a frown crossing her face.

"That's very... unusual, ma'am." She nodded.

She still suspects me. Understandable. Janus sighed, trying to shoot Ellena a winning smile, but getting only a tense, forced grimace in return. Not that I blame her: a baby that doesn't cry, who starts speaking at six months old and walking at nine months, and who is reading and writing by two? I'm sure I give off some danger signals.

"Just who was Shakespeare anyway, Mom?" Janus asked as he sat at the kitchen table.

Rose grinned, pulling a cookie from the jar she always kept well-stocked and sliding it surreptitiously to her son with a wink. "He was an old play writer, from hundreds of years ago! I think he lived in the republic of Zerana, in the Far East." She frowned, "History was never my strongest subject."

Figures. Janus mused as he bit into the delicious, fresh cookie. Just like anything else I recognize from 'before', nothing makes any sense. Certainly, good ol' Shakespeare wasn't from Zerana.

He sighed, thinking of the very limited maps from his father's library. From his best estimation, they mapped out an area little larger than continental Europe, with the outskirts of the cartography simply fading into blank space with the words: 'no air'. Janus suspected it was likely this society's version of 'here be dragons.' None of the maps even reached out so far as to touch the walls of the ringworld, let alone traverse even a percentage of the total ring.

Shakespeare also wasn't the first name, book, or history that Janus had come across that carried into this strange new world. That had happened back when he was two years old, and his parents had taken him into town, to church.

Janus's mouth had dropped open at the sight of the cross on the church steeple, and equally stunned as he thumbed through the hymnals in the pews during the priest's homily. There were still plenty of unfamiliar archaic words in the hymnals that he hadn't learned in Kyazeran yet, but from what he could read, it seemed nearly word for word to be the same text from his era.

He'd later confirmed this, using his father's dictionary and the bible from his library, his nimble young mind quickly deciphering the vocabulary. It still stunned him how powerful his neuroplasticity was: most eye-opening had been how quickly he'd understood the different written language characters when he'd taught himself to read. He had treasured the many hours where he’d demanded to be read to, following along on the page as his father recited fairy tales he knew well from his youth.

When he'd read the whole gospel, cover to cover, in Kyazeran he stared at the ceiling in wonder; somehow this ancient religion had accompanied mankind to the stars.

"What's my little Janus thinking about, I wonder." Rose grinned, leaning over the table on her elbows, her brown eyes gazing into his. "Maybe thinking about his made-up, secret language? Or perhaps what he wants for his birthday tomorrow?" She teased, eyebrows raised high on her face in play. Rose loved spoiling him, whether it was sneaking him extra treats or caving into his every petulant whim. Janus tried not to indulge too much. Most of the time he would beg off some chore or beg to stay up later simply to give his mother that joy of spoiling him.

Aha - so it was Mom who found the journal. Janus grinned slightly, Better her than Elias - I doubt he could decipher English, but if anyone in this village could, it would be him.

"O-oh... I... just a cake would be more than I could ask for, Mother." Janus smiled, "Father and you have given me everything a child could ask for, how could I possibly ask for more."

Rose smiled even wider, reaching over and pulling him into a big hug. "Oh my darling boy, how you make me so proud." She grinned, tickling him and making him giggle. “But you’re allowed to be a bit greedy sometimes, you know?”

Janus returned her embrace. It always felt good. It always felt right.

Well, almost always. Janus thought. Sometimes, when the shadow of his past was on him, he would feel guilty indulging in his mother's love. He wasn't sure if 'Richard' deserved it.

But Janus does. He resolved himself, for the millionth time.

"Now, go play," Rose commanded, lifting him from the chair and patting him on the bottom, ushering him toward the front door. "I won't have my son reading all day inside when the sky is so blue, children and flowers need sunlight to grow! Isn't that right, Ellena?" She grinned, glancing back to their maid.

Ellena just rolled her eyes and shook her head, wiping her hands with a kitchen towel. "Yes ma'am, the master should be outside."

Janus just grinned and headed for the door.

She does have a point. The fresh air is nice. Janus sighed as the fresh early-spring wind brushed through his hair, as he stepped out onto the wide wrap-around porch that hugged the entire home. Plus, it will let me continue my investigations.

Janus skipped down the porch steps, along the garden path to the stone wall that separated their front yard from the corn fields that stretched out to the river, currently tilled and sowed, only small green shoots poking through the dark brown earth. Janus glanced at the growing plants as he jogged out toward his secret spot. From reading his father's book: 'On Agriculture' he knew that this society had a surprisingly advanced grasp of agricultural science.

They didn't describe the chemistry in any detail - the nitrates and ammonia and the like. But there was a clear understanding of when fields should lie fallow, how to cycle between crops, the correct spacing, irrigation, aeration, harvesting, and more. These were concepts too advanced for this period and yet missing the crucial details of scientific explanation that would have followed in a modern textbook.

It's like someone who knew better just wrote a simple recipe, to keep the true artistry hidden. Janus thought, leaping up over one of the knee-height walls dividing their fields. But that couldn't possibly work in the long run! What happens when there's a blight? Or some subtle change in the environment? You can't have the benefits of technology without understanding how the technology works, right?

Janus hated it when things didn’t make sense. It was like a splinter in his mind. He would get grumpy, even sullen. He knew from the memories he’d written in his journal that he’d always been that way. He’d tried to organize his life precisely, keeping things neatly contained in their buckets. And when things were out of order, he couldn’t accept it. Then or now.

So, the incongruity was something Janus had been struggling with. On the surface, it didn't seem too unreasonable that you could have the technology without the understanding.

From his own time, he knew that people had used the internet every day without having any understanding of the incredible depth of complexity in routing, programming, telecommunications, engineering, laying of fiber optic networks, security, and protocols. No one human really COULD do so.

So perhaps it wasn't that absurd that this town could have technology beyond their understanding.

Janus frowned as he jogged through the field, contemplating the situation for the thousandth time that week, kicking a rock in frustration.

But it IS absurd.

The internet was one thing, but LED lights were altogether much less complicated.

There was no reason that his parents and the other villagers should use lamplights after dark if they had to stray from one of the electrically powered LED sources, as they often would now.

It should just take one half-clever person to pop out one of the LED lights themselves, see the wires connecting them to some sort of grid, extend those wires, and move the light wherever they pleased. It wouldn't be long before someone who was quite clever figured out even more: reverse-engineering an understanding of electricity and circuits and seizing control of the technology. History was filled with examples of reverse engineering. It wasn't that complicated!

Or so he'd thought until he’d tried to do it himself.

I'll keep running my tests today. Maybe I'll get the light to run with my potato battery.

Janus thought as he approached the far cornfield toward the little nook he had built for himself on the far side of the wall. That's where he'd hidden away one of the LED lights he'd pried out of the empty farmhouse to their South.

To his absolute shock, there were NO wires.

The device had immediately perplexed him: where he'd expected a familiar green printed circuit board was instead a strange carbon cube the size of a gumball, striated with multiple etchings. On the top was a perfectly recognizable LED, mounted via a simple screw bracket, totally unconnected to anything.

He'd later checked the fridge in the farmhouse, finding no plug. Squeezing himself behind the heavy object, far too massive for a five-year-old to move, he hadn't even found anything resembling a power supply or heat exchanger.

Just as shocking had been the sink. That one he'd checked in his own home, opening the cabinetry to see what kind of plumbing had been fixed there, only to see a drain ending in what looked like a dead end, and intake pipes that attached to nothing but a small, two-inch by two-inch carbon cube in the corner, with strange etchings all over it.

Electricity is one thing, but water and sewage? The gas that feeds our stovetop? This was technology far beyond what he understood.

Today he planned to try to power the LED himself, at least proving that the downstream technology from the cubes was somewhat recognizable.

"Alright! Let's make some light!" he cheered to himself as he leaped up onto the last wall, only a few feet now from his secret stash of purloined technology.

He froze.

He wasn't alone.

Bending over the little hole he'd dug for the LED fixture was a tall figure clad in a dark crimson robe that surrounded his body. The fabric seemed so light it floated in ripples from the person’s shoulders down to the ground, though the hem impossibly always hovering a precise, minute distance from the earth, never touching it. Its face was fully clad, a dark hood covering the top and back of the head, while a perfectly reflective silver mask, featureless except for thin etchings where eyes should be, covered its face.

The figure turned and looked at him, the mask seeming to stare through Janus's soul. A shiver rocked through him. Shit, shit! For a moment, Janus was sure the figure could see into his very mind, that it was keenly aware of his unique situation.

He stumbled backward, nearly falling off the wall.

The figure watched him for another moment, as if curious, then turned back to the LED fixture, still in its hole near the wall. Its mask seemed to shudder, vibrating, and Janus watched as the fixture lifted out of the ground, without anything touching it. The air seemed to hum around the fixture, squirming like the heat distortion above the hot pavement.

*KA-RACK!*

A thunderclap crashed out suddenly, louder than a gunshot as the atmosphere folded suddenly upon itself. Janus involuntarily clapped his small hands to cover his ears. The fixture was gone, except for the cube. But the cube seemed to be evaporating, dissolving into tiny grains of carbon-black sand, wispily wafting over to the figure's mask, vanishing against the etchings in the flat, silver, plate.

The figure turned again and 'looked' at him.

Again Janus felt the sensation that his very mind was being peered into, like a bright flashlight held against the palm of a hand, the sheer intensity making the flesh transparent. He clutched his hands tighter against his ears as if trying to keep his secrets in.

And suddenly, it stopped.

The figure gave a short, slow bow. Again, a heat shimmer seemed to spread through the figure, not in the fabric but in the very air around him. The distortion became thicker, worse, and larger with each passing moment, the red and black color swirling into the green background until it all became a mess of color...

And then nothing.

Transparent.

It was gone.

***

"Moooooooom!" Janus shouted, the heavy wooden front door slamming behind him. His heart still pounding, he'd sprinted all the way home.

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"Back so soon? The biscuits aren't even done yet, Janus." Rose was smiling as she walked into the entrance hall. Her face quickly fell as she saw the fear on her son's face. "Janus? What is it!? Come here love, come here!" She crouched, spreading her arms wide.

Janus rushed into her hug, squeezing hard to try to stop the tremor of adrenaline rushing through his body. The hug didn't help as much this time.

"Someone was... There was a... man."

Was it a man? Was there anything under that cloak?

"A man? In the garden?"

Janus tried to compose himself, breathing to slow his panic and control his emotions. He buried his forehead in his mother's neck. "In the field, he... he was wearing a red cloak and he had a mask and..."

"Ah." Janus could feel his mother relax in her hug, and that relaxation made his panic lessen. He slipped from her hug and looked into her face. "You met a Tecka, then." She looked at him curiously. "Although they say it’s lucky to actually see one yourself. I understand why you might have been frightened."

"A... tecka?" Janus mumbled, tilting his head. "What... what was it?"

Rose smiled and ruffled his hair, her brown eyes staring into his. "Oh, they're strange folk... and special. They help us with all sorts of things Janus, when we're making new houses, or things stop working, or if there's big problems with the harvest..." She smiled gently at him, stroking some of the hair out of his face. "But they can be quite scary to see. They can do magic, did you know? Like in the stories your Father tells you." She tilted her head playfully, trying to make him feel better.

The gears were starting to clink in Janus's head, as he realized what was being described.

There ARE people who know how the technology works!

He thought to how the figure had levitated the fixture then annihilated it, before vanishing into thin air.

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic... he grinned, remembering the famous quote. But that doesn't mean it's impossible to understand!

"Oh boy, I know what that look means." Rose chuckled, "My son the curious scholar. Not even scared of a mean old Tecka! Come on, let's get you a biscuit and you can tell me all about it." She patted his cheek, before standing up and taking his hand, leading him to the kitchen. "I wonder if you got to see him cast anything?"

A Tecka.. A Tech-Mage. Janus thought.

His smile grew wide.

Now he had something to focus on.

***

Later that evening, his father called him to his study. Janus knocked softly on the door, his mind bursting with questions.

"Enter."

Janus walked in, the musty smell of his father's books familiar, along with the pipe tobacco that he occasionally smoked, the air seemed thick with it now.

"Good evening, Father," Janus began. He could see his father had removed his powdered wig, and kicked off his boots, relaxing behind his desk. But he seemed troubled. "Am I... am I in trouble?" Janus asked tentatively.

Elias looked up from the papers strewn haphazardly about his desk. Janus knew from his snooping that they pertained to a minor land dispute in the town center, a case that he'd been working on for the past few months. He was in his early thirties now, but Janus had always considered him to be mature beyond his years. He wasn’t sure if that was because Elias was his father, or burdens of this society forced a higher level of responsibility on men at a younger age.

A small grin curled his father's lips and his piercing blue eyes searched Janus's face. He reached over the desk, ruffling his son's hair. "I'm not sure. I think that's something we need to find out, my boy. I understand from your mother you had a little encounter this afternoon, hm?"

Janus nodded. "I... I saw a Tecka. Out by the West boundary, on the third field."

"Mmhmm..." Elias nodded, looking at his son. "Were you scared?"

Hell yes, Janus thought.

"O-only at first. I'm not anymore. I... I didn't know what I was looking at."

Elias sighed and leaned back in his chair. "My boy, you're far too mature for your age... do you know that?" Elias stared wistfully at the ceiling, deep in contemplation.

Janus stiffened, a pulse of fear going through him. Too mature? What does he mean? Has he figured out about me?

Elias shook his head somewhat sadly. "You know, the first time I saw a Tecka I was twelve. I ran home sobbing into my mother's arms." He laughed and stood up, striding around the desk to take a seat in the chair next to Janus, so he could grip his muss his hair more easily. "You know what my father said to me then? He said: 'Don't you worry Eli, your pa will chase off any nasty old Teckas and keep you safe.' And then he flexed his arms, like this." Elias made two fists and held them up in front of him.

He gave a half chuckle and shook his head at his son. "Yet here you are at five, and braver than I!" He laughed and patted his knee. "You take the fun out of fathering sometimes, my boy."

Sorry, Elias. It was difficult to remember to act immature, and most of the time he didn't bother hiding his maturity from his family anymore. I didn't mean to rob you of that.

He hopped off his chair and clambered up onto his father's knee, grinning as the heavy hand landed on his left shoulder.

"So you're not scared, eh? Brave lad." He smiled, then tilted his head toward him and squinted an eye, cocking an eyebrow in question. "So… what I wonder is what that Tecka was doing out by our West wall, hm? Do you know, Janus?"

Janus gulped slightly. Did he notice me taking the light from the empty farmhouse? Janus had been surprised a few times by how clever his father was. He considered telling the truth but weighed it against the suspicion that his interest in the lights might raise.

"N-no father, I... I have no idea."

"Hmm..." He pointed to the window over his shoulder. "Tell me Janus, what do you see out that window?"

Janus looked, seeing the ring stretching up through the sky.

"The horizon, the moon, the-"

"No no, not that." His father shook his head slowly, "What do you see when you look down?"

"The fields."

"The fields." His father confirmed. "And I wonder what a father might do if he spied his son racing out to the far corner of the West boundary field every afternoon, hm?" He looked at Janus with a stern glance.

Crap.

"I... um-" Janus stammered.

"Oh come now, Janus, you're not in trouble!" He chuckled, "At least not very much trouble." He gave Janus's shoulder another squeeze. "I saw your little stash with the glowlight there, I saw you took it out of the Masterton's stead. They won't miss it—that family has moved on to the city." He cocked his head curiously. "But why did you take it out there? Hm?"

Janus frowned. He wanted to explain how the light seemed totally unattached to any wires, how the LED should have worked. And how the cube shouldn't have worked. He wanted to tell his father so many things. But he shrugged, his face still hot from being caught. "I... I don't know."

"Well, I think I know." He sighed, ruffling his hair again as he lowered Janus. "You've been asking me questions since you were barely able to speak Janus. That mind of yours is like a starving pig at a feeding trough." He motioned at his wider library. "And you've been through all these, too, haven't you?"

Janus blushed again and nodded softly. "How... how could you tell?"

Elias got up and pointed at a bookshelf. "See the dust? I haven't touched half of these books in years. Then all of a sudden all the dust on these book covers started disappearing. "You may be cleverer than your old man, my boy... but I'm not daft." He laughed and then looked wistfully at the ceiling. "It's just unfortunate that there's so little left for me to give you." He shook his head. "A five-year-old asking questions about agriculture, about engineering, about the town's charter, about history and geography..."

"I'm not five yet, dad." Janus grinned.

"That's right! Tomorrow's a big day." Elias smiled. "Five years already... are you excited?"

Janus shrugged. "It's... It's just another day."

Elias frowned. "You sound like a senior citizen, regretting the extra candles on their cake instead of celebrating them! Come now, a boy should be excited about his birthday!"

"Father - the Teckas." Janus said, trying to steer the conversation back. "What... what can you tell me about them? None of the books mention them at all..."

Elias lifted Janus off his knee, stood up walked back to his desk, and slumped heavily into the chair, propping his elbows up on the edge of his blotter.

It was the posture Janus had seen him adopt when he sat in judgment or if he was hearing out a client.

His serious posture.

"I suppose you would be thirsty for this knowledge, too, hm? I just wonder if it is knowledge that I should share."

Janus hopped off the armchair, trotting to the foot of his father's desk, his eyes gleaming. "Why not?"

"There's a reason you won't read of the Tecka in books, Janus." Elias explained. "It's forbidden. Even writing of them excessively in private letters can get you a visit." He saw Janus's eyes flicker with interest and he quickly laughed, "Oh don't worry, I’ve heard they just show up in their eerie way, do a little shimmer-magic, and vanish whatever missives you've cast pen to paper on. They aren't monsters that eat you up, except in the old stories."

"Old stories?"

"Rose!" Elias bellowed, with a stamp of his foot on the floor.

"Yes, love?" came her melodic reply.

"A pot of coffee, if you will," he shouted. "It seems our curious son will have me up half the night!"

A few minutes later, Rose was closing the door behind her, leaving the two men in her life to continue their conversation.

As Elias sipped his coffee, and Janus drank his cocoa - snuck to him with a wink from his mother through the door - he cleared his throat and continued.

"I know a little bit more than the average man, because of the case law." He explained. "When I was in law school I also was quite curious about the Tecka, you see. In the more ancient legal texts, there were references to agreements made with them. But even in the current case law you can read of disputes between townsfolk over their beneficial interventions, changes they’ve made to a field system, and who should profit, for instance.

"But they’re quite incomprehensible really." He shook his head. "We give them nothing, and yet they show up when most needed... we complete a new school, and one arrives in the midnight hour to provide light, water, and heat. In the direst of famines, they walk across a field when no one is looking and it flourishes into abundance the next month. In the midst of a plague, they simply touch the sick and they are healed." He drummed his fingers along the desktop. "Always in the least conspicuous way. Sometimes unseen entirely."

Janus's eyes were wide. Technology. There's no doubt. "Why doesn't everyone talk about them then? Wouldn't they be, like, saints? Angels?"

Elias frowned. "Careful Janus. You're a good boy, but there will be no blasphemy in this house." He gave his son a stern look, followed by a grin.

"No. People know the Tecka are not of the Lord. They aren't in the Book, of course." Elias nodded over his shoulder at his bible on one of his bookshelves. "But people don’t like to talk about them. You asked about the old tales. I never liked them, so you won’t hear them from me when I read you stories. But they all go about the same way: Cautionary tales of young boys and girls that ask too many questions of the Tecka's gifts or chase a little too eagerly after one that appears... only to vanish the next day. All memories of them gone. As if they never existed at all."

Janus shuddered. There was something that felt true about the stories. They might have just been a form of information control or something more sinister.

Elias looked down at his son, his blue eyes considering something horrible, as if he believed the stories himself, and feared Janus might be spirited away. But it passed, and Elias shook his head. “But they’re just stories.”

Janus nodded.

"Still, there’s no reason to test them. There's so much more in the world than Teckas and their magic, my boy." He grinned. "You'd make me so much happier if you focused on those other things.”

Janus sagged, disappointed that his first real lead into the mystery of this world was already being discouraged by someone so important to him.

"What things?" He waved his hand in frustration at the library, "I've read everything in here, and the first thing I tried to investigate vanished before I could even explore it."

Elias grinned and crossed his arms with a chuckle. "Well, you've finally given me some confidence that I might still be sharper than you, Janus."

Janus frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, not all knowledge worth knowing is in these books." He gestured over his shoulder and then looked at Janus with a sad eye. “Life’s not just about all this, you know. Tell me Janus, who's coming to your party tomorrow?"

Janus's face scrunched. "Who's coming? You, Mom... Ellena..." He paused.

"Yes." Elias nodded, lecturing. "But no one else, hm? You've excelled at everything, my boy. …Except making friends with others." Elias stared at the window sadly. "It's probably my fault, really.."

The words hit Janus like a punch in the gut unexpectedly, the emotions of his old memories crushing in intensity. It was like every journal entry he’d written, every thought parsed and put to paper rushed back at him at once.

Richard’s loneliness, the isolation. No Friends. No family. A bleak existence. All alone. No purpose. He’d tried to package it away in the journal. Telling himself it wasn’t Janus’s pain. That it was behind him.

It re-emerged now, like a hungry lion.

Wh-what? Why...?

He felt a hot tear forming in his eye, pooling quickly on his lower eyelid before spilling down his cheek.

Why am I?

His mind raced, imagining himself going through this life as he’d gone through the last, and ending up at the same finish. A destiny of pain and loneliness.

W-what have I been doing...

The memories he had thought he'd 'integrated' flashed through him. Images of an empty apartment. Of a cold, lonely bed. Of hours that dragged to days, to weeks, to years without purpose. Of the bittersweet desperation for connection that grew in intensity as it felt more and more impossible.

A life alone.

It wasn't just Richard's life as he’d tried to tell himself. It was his life.

Janus's life.

And here he was walking that same damnable path again. He'd been so caught up these past five years with exploring this new world and sorting out the mystery of himself, that he hadn't even realized.

What the hell have I been doing?

Another tear slid down his other cheek.

Janus hadn't cried. Not as a baby, a toddler, or a child. Not once.

Not until now.

"J-janus?" Elias had noticed his tears now. He could see the streams trickling down his son's face. He cursed himself for all the times he had wished to see his son cry, just to know that at least he could.

"My God, what's wrong Janus!?" Elias was shocked too, to see Janus crying, after all these years.

Elias sprang to his feet racing around the desk and kneeling to Janus, who was already softly sobbing.

"F-father... I'm... I'm sorry..." Janus mumbled.

I've been such a fool. I... I don't want that future. Not again. What have I been doing? The terror of those memories coming true once again was like a deep, dark pit.

"Hush." Elias's strong embrace surrounded him. "Hush boy, you have nothing to be sorry for!"

I can't do that again. I can't! Not again.

"I... I can change, Father. I'll make friends!" Janus said though he doubted his own words. He looked at Elias with desperate, pleading eyes. The tears wouldn't stop. The words felt thick in his throat, threatening to turn into choking gasps. "I'll... I'll change."

Janus was panicking. The anxiety of his past, the fear of his future, was sucking him down into a quagmire. And like quicksand, the harder he struggled to fight off the fear the fiercer the panic returned.

Elias was completely caught off-guard by his son's distress, for him he’d never had to comfort Janus. He was used to treating the boy like an adult. Hearing his cries was alien and frightening to him.

"Of course Janus, of course you will. I've just… I… R-rose!" He called out, as he lifted Janus in his arms, opening the door from his study and walking toward the living room. "Rose!" He called again.

Rose looked up from the couch, where she was wrapping a book in silver gift paper. She smiled at first, seeing Elias come in. "Not yet! Don’t come in, I'm still wrapping his-" Her words died in her throat as she saw Janus in his father's arms... bawling. Her surprised reaction was even more stunned than Elias's. Rose had long ago accepted she may never see her son cry.

"Janus!" She shouted, springing off the couch, and tossing the gift aside.

What the hell am I going to do?

Janus clutched desperately to Elias, as Rose approached, trying to bury his head in his father's neck. As if he could ward off the terrible thoughts with the shield of his father’s body.

What can I do?

"Give him here." Rose commanded, lifting Janus out of his father's arms and pulling him in tight to her. She sat back on the couch, cradling him.

"Oh Janus, Janus!" She had started crying too, but her tears were intermixed with light laughter. It was as if a great weight had lifted off of her, hearing her son's sobs for the first time. "Whatever is it my sweet?"

"I- I'm sorry Mom," Janus sputtered, hating to be a child and yet desperately needing to be comforted.

He hadn't realized how mentally weak he truly was. He clutched tight to her, everything about her was a source of strength to draw upon. Her warmth, her touch, her scent, her soft soothing coo. "I-... I can't stop...." he sobbed, rubbing at his eyes, unable to control his emotions.

"Oh you silly boy..." She rocked him gently, putting her chin on his forehead, "...you silly boy. Don't you stop crying. Don't you dare stop, Janus. Cry all you want." She stroked his hair. She quickly drew the back of her wrist across her eyes to wipe her tears, before looking up at her shell-shocked husband. "What on Earth did you say to him!?"

I can't take it. I can't be alone again. Janus thought desperately.

Some more rational part of his mind was dimly trying to tell him that he wasn't alone. That his memories were the past. That his future wasn't set in stone. But the panic and chaos of his past emotions were like the surging waves of a storm, swamping him utterly.

Elias looked sheepishly at his wife, shrugging. "I-I don't know… nothing really. I just said he wouldn't have any friends at his party tomorrow and-"

"Ass." Rose glared at him ferociously. "You foolish ass. He's a boy, Elias!"

Elias looked miserable, his shoulders slumping as he looked at his son. He felt entirely responsible and guilty. He hadn't meant for any of this at all. Usually, Janus was so unflappable, wise beyond his years. "It's... easy to forget that sometimes." he muttered.

Rose glared at him for another second before her face softened. She reached out with an exasperated grimace and roll of her eyes.

"Fool." She mumbled, pulling him onto the couch as Elias gratefully wrapped his arms around both of them in a hug, holding Janus between them.

"I... I'm sorry, my boy." He whispered, kissing Janus's brow as he sobbed.

Rose cleared her throat and began to sing. Soft at first, her lips close to his ears. But rising in power and sweetness as she rocked him.

"Hush my love, no more! No more tears now,

Rest your head while the candle glows.

The waving curtains sway and dance now,

As the midnight wind softly blows.

Shadows they dance, they dance! On the wall as we rock,

But do not shy from their rippling charms.

Those dark flickers, give no cause to balk,

So dry your eyes safe here in my arms.

This night, this night! It is just curtain before the stage,

Where dawn readies your smile anew.

So sleep and wander imaginations page,

But know here is where you're held true.

So let this world, this world become another,

I'll be waiting come the morn.

So rest my love, in the arms of your mother,

Sleep my perfect child, no need to be forlorn."

Her words seemed to swirl in the very room, each corner of the space humming with her soft, melodic tones.

Is... is she magic too? He wondered as each new verse stilled his heaving chest. As he listened to her song, his ears began to hear the pulse of her heart, his body felt the embrace of his father and mother, and his tears began to slow.

I'm... I'm not alone. Not right now. Not yet. I'm safe.

Little by little, the panic ebbed out of him, the memories fading. He softened into his mother's embrace.

Damn... how embarrassing. I’m just like a damn kid. He scorned himself for his weakness, as his eyelids drooped, exhausted from the anxiety and panic he'd just felt.

"I've wanted to sing that for you for so long, Janus..." he heard his mother whisper softly to him, as he fell asleep.

***

The next morning he awoke, the familiar ceiling of his room greeting him immediately. The previous night's events rushed back to him.

Again the sickening guilt and shame of his past life's utter despair bubbled as he recalled the waves of panic that had swept over him. But he drew in a deep breath and released it, remembering how he had fallen asleep.

I've been foolish up until now. Making the same mistakes I did before. He sighed, as he kicked out of bed. He shook his head, Well, not entirely. It's not like I've screwed everything up, I'm only five. But still... that was a wake-up call. I can't just... neglect that part of life again. Even if there is so much else going on. He nodded to himself and clenched his right hand making a fist, resolving himself. I can change. I will change. It WILL be different.

He heard shuffling and noise from downstairs. Janus smiled to himself, putting his ear to the floor.

"He'll be up any minute. Dear, fix that streamer, please." Rose directed.

"I'm sure Janus won't mind if everything isn't perfect." Elias's more muffled and tired response came through the floor.

"Ah, and after last night, I see you still dare to think yourself a capable judge of what Janus minds, hm?"

Janus couldn't help but grin, feeling bad for his father who was certainly catching holy hell from his mother.

It wasn’t his fault.

"Yes, love." Came a resigned response, "As you command."

"Ellena, the cake? Thank you."

Janus grinned to himself and stood up, letting out another shaky breath.

I may not have any friends this time... but I do have family. He nodded. And I WILL have friends next time. I will. Let's get this show on the road then.

He opened his door and made his way toward the stairs. "Good morning everyone!" He shouted down the stairs, intending to give them all ample warning to spring their 'surprise'.

"Janus! Happy Birthday!" Rose called from below, "come down, come down!"

Janus turned the corner and froze. Standing there, between the base of the stairs and the party in the kitchen where Rose, Elias and Ellena were - a Tecka.

"Happy -" Rose, Elias, and Ellana's cry all died as they saw the robed, masked figure. Ellena stifled a screech. "My God," Elias blurted.

The figure was the same one from yesterday, Janus knew it instantly. Though how he knew was an altogether different matter... perhaps they were all indistinguishable from one another. Yet he was sure. The figure turned to him again, that flashlight of blinding revelation beaming through his skull like an x-ray.

Shit. Shit shit shit! Janus panicked internally.

This can't be good. Are they... are they here because I asked Elias questions? Because I was investigating the technology?

He glanced over at his parents, frozen in fear, and Ellena clutching to Rose and hiding behind her.

Are... are they here for them?

"Hello." Janus began, hoping his voice didn't betray the fear inside him.

The Tecka bowed slightly, and a shimmer passed through the atmosphere again. This time colors thickened out of the transparency, heavier and heavier, things becoming clearer and clearer, until there was full resolution.

A doll.

Or not quite a doll.

It was more like a miniature mannequin, smooth plastic fully articulable at the major and minor anatomical joints via smooth plastic ball joints. It stood barely to Janus's head height - the tip of its bare white plastic skull would not even likely reach Elias's waist. Affixed to its left shoulder via a tinsel ribbon was a single blue balloon, floating upward, filled with helium.

A gift?

Janus looked between the doll and the Tecka several times. He was entirely unsure what to do next.

"Thank... thank you?" He asked tentatively. "Is this from you?"

The Tecka bowed again, soundless... and vanished into shimmer-air.

***