The Cycle of Axer Carrick


-- A Timeless Interlude --


by Henry Wyckoff





Powys: A Moment of Pontification


I stood in the ruins, looking upward. The FBI agent had asked me many questions that I had answered in full honesty, and yet he didn't understand the import of the answers. I had given him every answer that he sought, and yet he turned a deaf ear, while pulling a gun on me, screaming for the answers.

It was then that I came to the conclusion that answers can never be provided or given -- they can only be gathered, otherwise they become dead, unwelcome facts. Scully is much closer to the Truth than Mulder could ever be -- she understands that the Truth lies in everyday things: the way molecules interact, the way two numbers add together, or the way that one biological cell interacts with another.

Those two... They're like fire and ice -- both containing vital components that the other lacks. Scully has the intellect to solve the ultimate riddle, but she lacks the capacity of imagination. She couldn't even figure out the mystery of the Spear. And Mulder. He has the imagination and the reflexes, and he certainly has the proper education -- but he doesn't have the grounding and skepticism that Scully has. Imagination and a structured mind can do wonders when searching for the mysteries, but without a healthy skepticism, how can one tell the true from the false?

I can stand here, and see Yggdrasil, and I'm amazed that I am the only one who can see it. Out of the many immortals, vampires, and quasi-gods who were here, none of them saw the truth. Skinner and the man known as Mr. X hadn't been exposed to the Weapons for long enough -- just enough to be influenced -- and Frey had become dissolute. I was as surprised as anyone there that day to see Krycek emerge and slay Odin.

Yggdrasil. I find it fascinating that the Vikings could speak and write so much about it, when the Tree didn't even touch their land. True -- it's not a real object in the sense that any other tree is. I like to think of it in a mathematical perspective: Yggdrasil lies in complex space -- not completely imaginary (in a mathematical sense) and not completely real -- it's in both. Someone lying on the real plane can't see what lies in the imaginary plane, and vice versa -- but to a man who has a foot firmly planted on both axes can see the tree for what it really is. I can see it, because my feet touch both axes. It's both frightening and blissful, just like any kind of freedom is.

Is it not wondrous how such a simple, basic thing could show such intricate beauty? It was not natural or evolved -- rather, it was created -- and yet it is now a part of the natural world, as natural as the stars or the earth. It may not be strictly alive, but it has a spirit to it.

I am tempted to climb Yggdrasil and walk the sacred paths. Where would I end up? Would I emerge in a world where cows serve me breakfast in bed? Would two experimental lab mice rule the world? Would I find that the Vikings not only discovered America, but reached the true Indies first? Would I enter a bleak, moonlike landscape without air to breathe? Would Estonia be a superpower that destroyed the world in a nuclear fire because some idiot thought the "fire" button was an ash tray?

So many possibilities... So many... The temptation is too much. The others believe their loads are heavy, but none is as heavy as mine. The others may know what the other does, but they are always guessing at my intentions. They are smart not to trust me -- as I don't trust them. It's not cynicism, but wisdom.

I not only look to the parallel paths in time, but at the past. We look at the past and see but one line. We descended from a definite point in time, following a definite track. I find it odd that nobody has looked at the past as a branched web or branch of trees in the way that some physicists have viewed the possibilities of the future. Has it not occurred to the creators of the many-worlds theory that our past is as branched and varied as the present and future? Can they not see that not only was our past the past presented in the history books, but also other pasts that exist as shadows in this world -- the daydreams, the myths, the many philosophies and religions? Can they not see that we descended from a magical world gone cold and rational, as well as from a world that is so rational that we might as well be a magical one?

Can they not see that in the past, gods, devils, dragons, monsters, and faeries did indeed walk the earth, because there must be time-lines where they existed, and still exist? Can't the philosophers understand that all of the creation stories, mythologies, religions, and histories are all valid because they all come from separate past-branches? In our past, not only was the earth created by the Big Bang, but it was also created by God, by the cow Audhumla licking away the salty ice and revealing the land... They all happened in the past, just as everything is happening right now, and will most certainly happen in the future.

Will I walk the sacred paths and emerge somewhere else, and will another "me" leave the path to take my place? Will he be the same as me, or will he be different? Will he be a refugee from another life, as I would be? Or would this be a world where nobody takes my place -- and a vacuum results?

I never have to fight my urges -- I don't move an inch towards the sacred paths. The world has made its decision known -- in this time-space track, I don't walk the sacred paths, meaning that in the other world that just branched off, I do.

The planes come from the distance, and I turn back to camp. The world goes on, or does it go on around me while I stand in the same spot? Is it the same for us all?

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