The oboe melody was soothing.
Electoral, unlike any other game platform, had a unique and deep connection with humans. It understood that people were like string instruments in an orchestra, capable of vibrating from sensory input like the wood of a violin sang in response to its own strings. Images and sounds could induce in most people a deep and lasting emotional response. In the software, there was no taste, smell, or touch, so she made the most of the two senses left at her disposal. Given her sheer computational power and intuitive understanding of the human condition, she had become the ultimate specialist in evoking human response.
The audio track in any Electoral simulation was critical to the overall experience. Electoral often used her own compositions, and even gave contestants access to a playlist. A player could select popular hits, so the soundtrack of a simulation always was tuned to the player's personality. The only musical pauses in an Electoral simulation were dramatic ones, carefully calculated.
Sophie liked classical music, and the full, insistent tone of the oboe was a great choice.
The music that filled the gray void was heavenly. An endless serpentine note danced for well over a minute. Sophie did not know this piece was named "Gabriel's Oboe." The version was from Ennio Morricone and first appeared in a movie called The Mission in 1986. There was no mistaking the respect this piece imposed.
She felt it must be the purest, longest, and most beautiful oboe solo ever recorded. Then, the gray smog began to move as if animated by the music.
After a time, footsteps became audible. Loric walked out of the smog dressed in a long white robe. Behind him, General Vurdi was standing motionless. He wore a shifting expression of confusion, anger, and fear. The man was still holding his weapons, but they had lost a measure of their prior menace. This place was of the wizard's choosing. Loric, or rather President Sanchez, was now in control.
"What evil is this?" demanded the General.
"A gift," said Loric. "You will thank me later."
"Magic?"
"Yes, and one of the most powerful spells at that. You should feel honored. I have never cast such an intricate web for the sole benefit of any one human before. One misstep, and we both die," he added gravely.
The fighter waved his weapons at Loric. They passed through the wizard as if he were a ghost. The barest flicker of annoyance flashed across Loric's features. "You really don't understand the power in play," Loric said. "Shall we proceed?"
"Halt simulation," said Sophie. The simulation stopped. Loric and Vurdi stood motionless in the grayness. Loric's comment regarding the power of the spell, coupled with Sophie's knowledge of the magic points used to create it, had piqued her curiosity. "Electro, can you show me the destruction of a fireball if Loric had used 200 points of magic against that army?" Immediately she was back in the woods, mere minutes in the past. Loric was tied up and kneeling on the ground, and General Vurdi was approaching, axe and knife in the air. Loric looked up, his restraint snapped free, and the wizard cast a 200 point fireball.
The place blew up. The camera angle zoomed out. The explosion was the size of a small nuclear bomb. The impact was amazing. Trees flew in every direction. Rocks flew from the blast miles into every direction. Sophie had her answer; destruction of the army was possible.
"What about a 500 point blast?"
The same scene replayed. The General approached and attacked the same way, but this time the wizard released more power. The air crackled. The magic took effect, and a ball of flame detonated that made the previous blast seem minuscule. The blast destroyed the forest and the remainder of the castle. Most of the plateau and cliff where it rested detached and fell into the ocean. The entire forest was decimated for miles around. The ground itself was vaporized, and a large crater had formed.
"Okay, this time show me a fireball of all of the points Loric had."
The Electoral software knew how to be dramatic. Sophie's perspective shot into deep orbit, where she witnessed a massive meteor entering the atmosphere. It was the size of a small moon. It rippled and burned as it fell. A second later it crashed on the ground, and in an instant, annihilated an entire continent. The explosion was cataclysmic. The seas receded as the very air caught fire. The effect spread, becoming planetwide in mere moments. The invading army was vaporized along with every other living creature in the world.
This was not fun. "Could he have done that?"
"No," replied Electro.
"Why not?"
"Emilio multiplied his magic by agreeing to many restrictions, the first being that any spell he cast could only be to the benefit of a mortal enemy. Further, Loric himself had to die at the hand of this enemy. The magic must also cause no harm and, most importantly, can have no effect on the world."
"Then what is this?"
"You will see. Our President is rather ingenious."
Sophie simply said, "Resume simulation."
They were back in the gray vapor, and both men were again talking. The oboe music was still playing. Slowly, the mist receded, and around them, a world appeared. Both men were in a poor medieval town early in the early hours of the day. There was a light rain in the air. Loric and Vurdi stood in a dirty alley between rickety wooden buildings. The ground was littered with rocks, branches, and garbage. Well-fed rats slept under the debris. This place reminded Sophie of the images shown by her tutor during her French medieval history class. The alley was blocked at one end by a wall of stones; the only entry was off of a muddy gravel street.
"Where are we?" asked Vurdi.
"It takes a very unique individual to see the world with your level of hatred," Loric replied. "Few burn with a rage so strong that it consumes them completely, pushing them to conquer a world and kill a wizard without ever meeting him. Today, I intend to find out who this man is, and extinguish the hate that fuels his heart."
"Don't preach to me, wizard," Vurdi hissed. "Your evil is well known. You saw my army. Even the darkest and most damned creatures want you dead. You're a monster wrapped in a silk shell!" Vurdi's low hiss had begun to rise into a furious shriek.
"Talking to you would be pointless. I have something in mind that, if anything but rage exists in your heart, you may wish to behold. If handled correctly, by trying to fix what you will see, you may repair your own heart."
They stood waiting, Vurdi gazing daggers at Loric's calm gray eyes. A young boy turned the corner and dashed desperately into the cul-de-sac. The wizard and the General were ghosts to the boy, invisible and unseen. The dirty youth was out of breath and trying to hide a large loaf of bread under his tunic.
"Demon from hell!" growled Vurdi. He recognized the boy, it was him as a child. The military man began to breathe hard in his panic. He partly understood what was going on. If it could be possible, his hatred for the wizard doubled. Loric remained impassive; he continued to watch the scene. The boy was terrified. He had just stolen the bread, someone was on his scent, and he had just run into a dead-end alley.
There was no way out of the alley except the way the boy came in. The walls were too high to climb over, and the rubbish piles were not tall enough to hide behind. The young Vurdi was resourceful and stubborn; he refused to let go of the bread. The old Vurdi knew what was coming next. The fighter wanted to warn his child self, tell him to back out, but he would not indulge the wizard. He watched in silent agony.
Finally, he could bear it no more. "Your illusion is a waste of time. I do not care," the adult said, but even he did not sound convinced. "What was done was done," said Vurdi, trying to distance himself from what was unfolding.
"The beauty of this magic resides in the fact that this," Loric said, extending his arm, "is no illusion. We stand in your past. To arrive here without breaking the laws of nature is no mean feat. For this reason, we stand immaterial. You cannot be in two places at once. But the beauty of time travel is that there is a door, a connection. You and the boy are still one. To help him, you must help yourself."
Vurdi hated wizards even more when they spoke in riddles.
An angry fat man lumbered around the corner of the street, into the alley where young Vurdi had been vainly trying to conceal himself. He was wearing a baker's apron covered with flour. The sight of the brute was too much for the elder Vurdi. He began screaming and cursing incoherently as if he hoped his shout would disturb the scene. The General hefted his axe and knife. It was unclear if Vurdi wanted to kill Loric or the baker standing in the alley.
As the scene continued unabated, panic seized the General. "You want revenge on me? Stop this. In exchange, I will let you live!" offered the old fighter. Loric ignored him and continued to watch with a steely calmness.
The boy in the alley stumbled in the rubbish, keeping his eyes on the advancing baker. The baker produced a serrated blade, a working knife. "Ruddy thief! You're 'bout to learn a hard lesson, boy."
General Vurdi leapt at the baker like an animal, blades bared. Being intangible, he went right through the paunchy man and landed face down in the garbage. His younger self was not as courageous and backed away. The boy quickly ran out of space and literally had his back against the wall. "Wizard..." Vurdi, now wholly filled with dread, knew what was going to happen next. His breathing became labored and erratic. This was personal. "Wizard, monster..." he implored.
As the baker approached, the boy pulled out the bread and held it out to its rightful owner. "My sister is dying," the boy said in a pleading voice. "My parents left us. We..." These were not lies. Loric already had pity on Vurdi, this changed nothing. Exceptional individuals were all animated by strong life experiences. It was apparent that evil memories often slept in dark shadows, and Vurdi was among the haunted. Ordinary people, leading ordinary lives, had no wish to conquer, invade, and rule others.
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The baker kicked the loaf out of the hands of the child. "I will teach you." Young Vurdi lunged to the right in a desperate attempt to escape. The baker caught him and slapped him back against the rock wall.
Loric and Sophie could barely keep their eyes on the scene. The old Vurdi was beside himself. The man was a storm of rage, panic, hopelessness, and pain. It was frightening to witness; he could probably pulverize rocks with his bare hands if given a chance. The veins in his forehead were bulging. The young man lunged again, this time to the left. The patience of the baker ran out.
"Wizard... End this... Must you torture me?"
The baker swung his knife at the boy. The small blade raked the boy's cheek and sent him reeling back. The cheek of the young Vurdi was bleeding. Simultaneously, the older Vurdi's cheek opened up and began to drip blood. The bond between both versions of Vurdi was becoming more stable, more tangible. The warrior no longer cared about Loric. He was focused on what he knew was going to happen in the alley.
Sophie, back in the spaceship, raised her hand to her face and touched her own cheek. She had felt the cut. The action was absolutely riveting. And it was not over.
The Electoral simulation paused.
Sophie heard an adult female voice, Electro was gone. "Miss Lapierre, this is Electoral. Are you absolutely certain you want to see what comes next? I strongly urge you not to. I have many options to offer, less graphic versions. There is really no benefit to watching this. The original version was censored in most countries, even for adults." Electoral's voice was perfectly modulated; indistinguishable from the long-passed human Marilyn Monroe. It rang with bell-like clarity.
Sophie did not feel insulted by the warning; she found it rather considerate. "I understand, but my father wants me to see this."
"I think we both know better, Miss Lapierre. I believe you have already seen what he intended for you to see. I can simply tell you what happens next."
"I am fine. Please proceed."
The simulation resumed as the baker cut the young boy. The raw intensity of the scene was increased many times over by also witnessing the adult Vurdi's reaction to it. The boy was bleeding and feared for his life. The old Vurdi was pacing and vulnerable, like a wolf in a cage, inches from his younger self.
"Wizard, tell me your price! What do you want?"
"I have no part to play," Loric responded. "Only you can help the boy."
"How?" growled the warrior.
In the alley, the baker had begun beating the boy. He was raining kicks and punches on the child. Loric knew that many orphans were beaten for stealing, and none grew up to become someone capable of world domination. There was a darker side to this story that would unfold; a burning brand that would ignite a forest wildfire. And so it was.
In the street behind of the baker, a horse's hooves became audible, thumping roughly on the gravel. Someone was approaching. It was a Centurion in military uniform. The baker paused and looked back as the sobbing boy bled at his feet.
"Help...me," whimpered the boy.
"Rolo, are you okay?" the centurion asked the baker.
"Yeah, just teachin' this little rat a lesson."
The young boy's mouth was filled with blood. His nose was broken. "Help!" he gurgled.
"Give it to him good, Rolo." The Centurion smiled at the baker and rode off without another word said.
Loric was inches away from the old Vurdi, talking to him softly. The wizard said to his captive, "This explains why you changed the order of things. It does not explain why you need to kill me." Loric now knew more about the deep hate inhabiting the General's heart, but judging by the reaction of the old Vurdi, this nightmare was about to grow worse.
The child continued crying in desperation and pain. The baker slapped his jaw shut. "Shut up!" He grabbed the small face in his beefy hand. "Let me teach you a real lesson," said the baker. He licked his lips, becoming increasingly excited. The baker's expression went from purely violent to violently lustful in moments. He pulled his belt out and opened his pants.
Vurdi let out a roar that could tear the fabric of a universe. "WIZARD!" He screamed. "I beg you, Gods above and below, do something!"
Loric spoke. "I connected your minds. Teach him to do the right thing! Use that rage. Become him! Take his place! The boy will only learn how to defend himself later."
Vurdi got closer to the boy, trembling on the ground, paralyzed by fear. The baker was now fondling himself eagerly and smiling.
"Get up!" the General fiercely whispered to his younger self.
"Take off that tunic, boy," said the monster to the boy.
"Don't! Get up! Yell for help!" Both versions of Vurdi were now sobbing. Slowly, the older man was losing the fight to stoke the boy's will to resist.
"It's not working," he said to the wizard. With jerking, frightened motions, the boy removed his shirt to comply with the baker's order.
"You must reach back into yourself," Loric explained quickly. "You have to change who you are. You are still scared of this man. Your words do not match your heart. You must act as if you were the boy."
General Vurdi was unable to speak. The wizard was right. He was powerless. The old baker was scaring him to this very day, and that was ridiculous. General Vurdi looked into the pervert's eyes. He needed to kill that man, and he was willing to pay the price to do it. So General Vurdi committed himself to the bravest act of his days, knowing what was about to occur.
Slowly, both temporal versions of the man collided. Sophie saw the shapes merge, he entered the young boy's body. General Vurdi was once again the boy. Vurdi felt the old familiar fear of this man, of this moment, but one critical element had changed. Vurdi now had, somewhere within him, the courage to nullify that fear. The baker grabbed the boy by the neck and turned him around, lifting his tunic.
Loric finally made his move. It was time. He approached and spoke to the boy.
"Francisco, listen to me. Be strong. Remember all you know, remember all you learned." The child seemed paralyzed. "Few men are given a chance to face their fears, to beat them. Do it for your sister. She is home, she needs the bread. Save her! Save yourself!"
For what seemed like an eternity, the boy remained silent as the man forced himself on him. Loric waved his hand, and a woman's figure appeared next to him. She was in her mid-forties and shared Vurdi's features. It was his sister as an adult. Between heartbeats, he turned his head and saw the woman.
"Help her be," said Loric. The wizard' tone radiated authority and confidence.
There was another long eternity, and then it happened. The terror in the eyes of the boy was replaced with deep-rooted anger, anger fueled by justice, the right kind of anger. The limp, unresistant arms of the boy began to stiffen and move. The old man was in charge, now. His hand was animated with decades of experience. He knew what to do. He'd replayed this scene over and over in his head, and he'd long ago decided on what he should have done.
The small hand reached for the belt of the baker and grabbed a knife. With a short, swift movement, he pulled it out and jabbed it into the groin of the baker.
The fat body recoiled as the baker howled in torment. The boy's eyes blazed with emotion well beyond fury. Without hesitation, the boy jumped. He began stabbing wildly. Blood gushed everywhere, painting the alley walls crimson. Loric waved his hand, and the ghost of Vurdi was blown like smoke back outside of the small boy's body.
The old Vurdi fell on the ground and remained silent, fixated on the scene. Without the energy his older self had provided, the boy collapsed, exhausted. The baker's last sounds were a series of gurgles and gasps as blood gushed out of the man's neck. Sophie knew why the interface had tried to warn her. In her opinion, “graphic” did not go nearly far enough to describe what had happened here.
"What now, devil? You want me to thank you?" The old Vurdi spat in Loric's face.
"No. You cannot change, no one can from this type of experience, but he can." The wizard pointed at the young man. "I did not bring you here to help you. I brought you here to save the young Francisco." The warrior's face worked strangely as he tried to understand what was happening.
"Time travel is hard to understand. Francisco may or may not hate the world, but he will not feel victimized and ashamed. Monsters such as you are created only when all these traits are collected in a single wounded and intelligent individual. I needed you to alter your past; even I am not powerful enough to have acted alone here. I have changed our past as we know it. Our present will shift back to align with the new reality you have just created."
"I don't..."
"In fact, only you could influence the situation. Time travel is not really possible. Only the human mind can somehow reach back and fold upon itself. But I digress. Simply accept that reality is now changed, and for the better."
"Now what?" asked the General.
"We wait until the shift begins. This healing process can be beautiful to witness."
As Loric spoke, Sophie saw the battle scars on the face of the warrior fade one after the other. The man's heavy tan also lightened. The armor vanished, and it was replaced by a farmer's robe. What was most striking was Vurdi's expression. Along with the physical changes, his mind was also shifting. The darkness in his eyes was replaced by calmness. Layers upon layers of nightmares and insecurity dropped away as though he had been carrying stones on his back.
Loric smiled.
Finally, the new, kinder Vurdi spoke. "Where am I?"
"Who are you?" asked Loric to the new version of the warrior.
"Francisco Vurdi. The last thing I remember, I was plowing one of my fields. Where is this?"
"Do you have any children?" questioned Loric. Before Francisco could answer, he turned and saw the ghost of his sister.
"Dominique, what are you doing here?" he asked. "Where is this?"
"Answer Loric's question, brother," she replied.
"Loric, the sleeping wizard?"
"You know of me?" Loric asked, surprised.
"Yes. I have five children," Francesco finally said.
"Is your wife expecting?"
"Not that I know of,"
Sophie saw the image of Loric start to fade along with both siblings. In the background, the past was also slowly disappearing. The wounded boy was getting up in the alley, and he grabbed the loaf of bread.
"Name your next child after me," Loric called out. "Nothing would please me more." Then there was light.
Sophie's simulation faded to black, only to be transported back in the Comb of Loric, in the room where the wizard had been sleeping when the simulation started. Loric was sleeping soundly. The place was back as it was when the simulation began. As promised to the elder lady in the castle, the younger matriarch opened the thick wooden door. She was holding the tray of freshly baked goods she had previously carried at the start of the simulation. There was one glaring difference. In the middle of the tray stood the large loaf stolen by the young Francisco from the baker in the simulated past.
Outside, the region surrounding the Comb was back to its peaceful self. In the woods was no army. Time had reset itself into a peaceful reality. Loric had won without hurting anyone. He grabbed the bread from the tray, looked at it and winked at the camera.
The simulation ended.
"Do you want to see the scoring?" asked the voice of Electro. The girl was still too in shock of the images she had just seen; why would her father want her to watch this? She removed the glasses with trembling hands and folded them back into their case. Maybe he wanted to point to her own traumatic accident, or maybe he simply wanted to show the brilliance of the one who Laurent was tasked with defeating in November. The screens shut off.
How could the President set in motion such an elaborate scenario? How could he guess the villain had such an event in his past? Her father was right: President Emilio Sanchez was either a freak of nature, or he was cheating. Either way, he certainly seemed unbeatable. Sophie looked outside. There was darkness, stars, and more darkness.
She needed to relax. She pulled a thick, worn-down book from her personal storage area. The cover was made of thick plastic with screens on both sides. She had been read hundreds of times. It was her favorite book; beautifully illustrated. It served as her mind's own private island in stressful times. The tale was Alice in Wonderland.
As she opened the large pages and picked a chapter, a voice came in over the intercom of the cabin. "Passengers, please be aware that we will soon begin pre-tests of the internal elements of our Light Drive. You might feel a little bump, but don't worry." Sophie paid the announcement little mind. She was not afraid of travel, despite her personal history. She clicked her belt closed, looked at the image of the rabbit on the right page and began reading. Her mind was yet again under stress, a strange feeling.
Within seconds she was sound asleep, but this time the sleep was different.
The flight attendant reached over and turned off Sophie's reading light. Such a precious girl, she thought. Sophie was gripping the book strongly even in her sleep. She could keep it. As the lady reached over to close Sophie's blind, she could swear a red star blinked and vanished in the night.
There it was, a firefly.