Sir Isaac Newton’s words were meaningless. Granted, I understood the gravity of the situation, but the scale of the task and its consequences would not hit me until much, much later.
My eagerness did not please my life support, and whenever I expected Missy to unleash her temper, the stoic scientist raised a considerate hand, and the little girl resisted her urges. After acknowledging my courage for daring to inquire, the elderly man asked Missy to seat herself next to me.
"Hear me," he began, with a strict stare. "The 9th Fortress…is a crooked tooth growing rotten from the gums of Hell. You will see the structure from a hundred miles away, and you will hear its lamenting prisoners from a thousand."
He continued down this vein until my mind’s eye could see the facility in all its hostile glory. Lightning could not crack its rock, and thunder forever trembled the earth below, almost as if the structure could not bear the weight of sin it bore. I watched crows peck the eyes from prisoners seeking a rare glimpse of light; I witnessed bodies leap from its tallest spire and mince down the rugged sides; I heard the screaming sinners burning in private ovens and the drowning dozens in the boiling moat. Newton spared no gruesome detail.
"Each cell delivers a unique form of punishment to its prisoner," he added, "and the greater one’s crime, the more intolerable one’s existence. Then, there is the warden, a man of some malevolence; notorious in his time and untouchable in ours, he has a swordsman made of solid bronze that protects him round the clock. You will first proceed… "
As expected, Missy's fury could not be contained. "That’s if he even makes it to the prison! The Distinct Earth has its own dangers, as does the journey through Hell! Oceans of fire, deserts of plague, alien life forms, and agents of evil everywhere! It cannot be done!"
"Please!" I begged, holding my pounding forehead. "You’re not helping!"
"This prisoner must be important!" she bellowed back. "Tell me, who is it?"
Newton remained unflappable. "Your emotion is quite understandable, Missy dear. After all, your love for this man is unconditional. You are deeply afraid for him, as well you should be."
Stuttering and teary, my life support turned from us, concealing those emotions behind her hands.
"I can only share the cell number," said Newton, hoping to see the cherub's face again. "Cell number 2020, and his or her identity must remain a mystery for the time being. It would be hazardous for Daniel to know more at this juncture. Yes, extremely."
That incessant drone made conversation for the time being as I attempted to grasp at madness. The Waiting Plain was colder now, and the hairs on my arms prickled up like solders in attention. Was it really the cold? I strolled around the Plain between Sir Isaac Newton and Missy, slapping my cheeks and thinking things over. Distinct Earth…Hell…9th Fortress…bronze swordsman, and agents of evil?
"It's not the cold," said Missy, sighing. "That's fear, Daniel. Finally, some sense from you."
"Something confuses me,” I said, ignoring that churn in my stomach. "If I’m dead now, how can I die again?"
The mellow-faced Englishman appeared relieved to be taking the subject away from the 9th Fortress, if only to avoid further upset to Missy. "A soul cannot die, Daniel, but the body can. Perish in the realms of the afterlife, and your light vacates the body, snatching the shelter of any form near it, be that a grain of dirt or a scuttling rat. This is known as the second death, and what a random and unenviable process it is. My best advice would be to take care of the body you have; it is the only one you have left. Do you understand me?
I nodded. "Understood, and I appreciate your concern Missy, but this is something I have to do.”
“Sir Isaac," I announced, facing him, "I will do what God has asked of me."
Missy swooped to my face now, absolutely beside herself. "You naïve fool! Think you can take on the whole wide world, do you? You are so blind! So silly and ignorant! The logic you spoke of earlier is turned on its head the second you leave me! You know nothing of the peril that awaits, absolutely nothing at all. Do you understand me?!"
"Calm yourself!" Newton pleaded. "This will do no good, angel, no good at all. Missy, this is a decision for Daniel to make, he needs advice from his support, not a lecture."
The girl’s fury frittered away as soon as it had arrived, and she sobbed against my chest. Shocked to see so much passion for me, I stroked the fluffy feathers connected to her back.
"Missy is correct," said Newton, "there is a great deal you have yet to learn. However the task is not an impossible one. True, you may never make it back here, so it is not a decision to be made lightly. Pray, consider your options. If you accept and bring prisoner 2020 to me, then you will rest with your daughter in peace. If not, then your case will go through the usual channels."
Mouth dry, I choked for a moment. "Why me?" I asked, rather, I begged
"Why do I get the honor of meeting you and having this chance? I'm a normal guy; there's nothing special here. I didn't save anyone's life or even do much with my own! I am greedy, selfish, and weak like everybody else! Why me?"
Missy separated herself from my chest and dried her eyes. It was obvious to her what was so special about this soul, but she expected everyone else to see it.
Sir Isaac Newton came closer to the both of us, wearing a confident grin.
"Why not you?" he said. "If at first the idea does not sound absurd, then there is no hope for it. Whatever you think, Danny, no matter how insane this opportunity may seem today, tomorrow clear light will shine upon God's apparent madness. We are, all of us, standing on the shoulders of a giant. I sense a decision has been reached?"
He was right. This was not a choice; it was my ticket. I could wait here in the plain, and be judged in full and proper time, but would that eventual verdict go my way? I couldn't risk it, and I definitely couldn't wait for it.
"I talked to Kathy," said Newton suddenly, "shortly before arriving here. You have a bright girl there. Very bright indeed." His wise blue eyes became a cinema, flickering back wonderful images of Kathy’s mousy hair and shy smile, filling me up with equal measure of sadness and joy. "She hopes," he added with care, "that you have forgiven him. Do you know what this means?"
My head became heavy all of a sudden, my brain disturbed by a deceased daughter's unexpected wish. "I know what that means," I mumbled back. "She wants me to forgive the man who killed her."
"And do you?" he asked, intrigued.
Like lingering vomit at the back of my mouth, my face contorted at the thought.
"It's too soon," Missy answered for me.
It was too soon, and the elderly man seemed to accept that. "She asked me to tell you one more thing." he said, and hungrily I gazed at him. "That she loves you very much."
This was my fuel, confidence and determination in one sentence. Once again, I felt my life support's heartache, for she had lost me to the 9th Fortress.
"When do I leave?" I asked. "Now? Right now? I’m ready."
"First and foremost," said Newton, "you will need a guide. This is no journey one can take alone. You will need a man of experience!"
"That’s right," said Missy, properly. "If he’s going, then I’ll be damned if he’s going alone. I doubt you will find a more suitable guide than you, Sir Isaac. This would ease my mind."
His black hat bobbled as he chuckled. "I am a physicist, Missy, and a very old physicist! No, no, I have a far more suitable candidate in mind, a man extremely qualified for the job. A most exceptional human being." Sir Isaac Newton directed his long finger toward: "The samurai…"
Slouched on another block of stone was a bulky Japanese man. Somewhere in his fifties, his hair was oily black with lightning streaks of grey, and a top knot held it all at the back. His face was scar-ridden and sour, with a pair of brows shrouding his eyes in perpetual shade, occasionally revealing the odd bead of twinkling white amongst pools of darkness. He brooded still in his position, resting a stubbly chin on his clenched fist. He was dressed in a heavy-looking red armor with solid vertical plates around the torso, and was armed with two deadly-looking swords: a long katana by his left leg, and a shorter, what I later discovered to be a wakizashi, thrust down the front of his waist belts. Missy and I examined this smoldering beast in wonderment, his presence eclipsing Newton’s. He was Caesar, he was Alexander, he was Samson and Hercules combined. The samurai knew he was being watched but remained placid on his rock; he was a granite statue, not acknowledging our presence, nor caring for it.
"My goodness!" said Missy, star-struck. "My goodness gracious!"
"Danny!" said Newton, enthusiastically. "It is my great pleasure to introduce to you to Kat." On hearing his name, Kat still did not respond. "A samurai warrior from sixteenth century Japan," continued the scientist. "You are arguably looking at one of the most dangerous men in the whole of Earth’s troubled history."
Finally now, this Kat gave our trio the honor of his troubled gaze and husky sound. "Arguably?" he sneered.
The hairs on the back of my neck instantly stood on end as I floundered in that man's scowl, his eyes inspiring a rotting sickness in the core of my guts. Passing us a last look of inadequacy, Kat turned his head to one side, muttering profanities under his breath. This man of experience was not impressed, not by me, not by Newton, not by anyone.
"Kat will guide you to Hell, the 9th Fortress, and back again." said Newton. "A grandmaster swordsman and mightier than Achilles, Kat is the only soul qualified for such a venture. Daniel, this man will devote everything to your cause. He will perish for it, and for you."
This wild thing continued cursing to himself, as if a bomb primed to explode. Missy soared to my ear and brushed my hair aside. "Kat has been here in the plain for over two hundred years. Another two hundred…elsewhere."
"He's been sitting here for two hundred years?" I rasped back. "What's he waiting for?"
"An audience with God," she whispered, "and that attention requires patience. But Kat has it, and here he waits and waits for his word. No one talks to him, and no one dares approach, for his name is known and feared everywhere."
"I am pleased by your optimism," said Newton.
"Not at all!" she returned. "I still think it’s an outrage, but if one man can protect my Daniel, then it’s this hulk. What do you think of him?"
I shrugged. "If you say so…"
"Do not write him off so speedily," said the scientist. "Believe it or not, Danny, you have a lot in common with this warrior. You are trees sharing the same root; during your lifetime, you may already have seen his image in dreams or reflected back in the mirror. Kat will be as important to you as anyone you have ever met. He will be at your side, your eyes and ears, your guide and shadow until mission’s end. He is your shield, your sword, your North Star, and deliverer from evil. You will obey him, you will trust him, and in return he will keep you alive."
Newton then took a step back and I felt his nudge prod me closer to Kat. I glanced over my shoulder to see the angel and scientist urging me on. I was eight years old again, with my mother forcing me to shake the neighbor’s hand because he was new, and we had age and freckles in common. "This is Marcel Winterbottom. Shake his hand, Danny, he’ll be your new best friend!"
Reluctantly, I took those delicate steps toward my guide, whose burdened breaths sniffed heavily at my advancing proximity, the bull before it skewers you with horns. Kat remained stiff when I faced him, substantial, emotionless, and immovable.
"My name…is Fox." With no reply, I searched anxiously back at my angels.
"To your feet, Kat," ordered the scientist, with respect.
Kat reacted, squinting two tar pits of insolence squarely at Sir Isaac Newton, who would not be intimidated. Kat then redirected his contemptuous glare to someone who would. I shuddered, wet my parched lips, and repeated, "My name is…"
Suddenly, the samurai lurched up from his seat, armor and bones creaking like some un-oiled, infernal machine. The warrior eyed me over with a grim curiosity on his slashed face, as if I were a tiny frog to be stamped on. Too intense for me, I could not hold this venomous sight, a weakness the man noted with disgust. Focusing my attention instead on my perspiring palm, I extended it for his handshake. Kat scoffed at that insulting lump of flesh, and then turned on his heels and away.
Embarrassed, I felt like bawling my own brand of profanities at his back. Who was he, this short, angry man, and why did I need him?
Keen to express these emotions, Newton suddenly placed his gentle hand on my arm. "Do not take it personally," he whispered. "Kat is not the social sort. Few great men are."
"Are you sure this is such a good idea? Does this Kat person even speak English?"
"Not a word," he tittered. "The barriers of language do not exist here. Kat speaks Japanese, you will hear English, and vice versa. Only, expect conversation with this man to be limited; his swords do the talking, after all. But for good or bad, your and Kat's destinies have collided, and you will have to persevere. His arrogance will require a great deal of patience, but have faith in him, as we have faith in you."
I nodded, watching the warrior continue in his random course without ever looking back. "He won’t even wait for me!"
"Kat only waits for God." said Missy. "You’d best get a move on."
With no time for this to sink in, I prepared myself to move when Newton placed a leather belt in my hand. Connected to the belt was a pouch and dagger. Curious, I removed the blade. It was sharp, but plain and uninspiring. "Thanks," I said, half-heartedly toying with it. On my way to Hell and given a butter knife to defend myself. I was not impressed.
"Me neither," said Missy. "It is a butter knife…"
"Could you stop that?" I said. “It’s weird.”
Innocently slanting her head, Missy wrapped the hair around her finger.
"This is no ordinary dagger," explained Newton. “It requires enormous responsibility from its wielder. Listen carefully, Daniel: A man cannot extinguish a soul, but this dagger can. The baffling science confounds most in the Heavens, myself included, but makes no mistake, the power of God is now in your hand."
Immediately I held the weapon more gingerly, as if it were nitroglycerine in my grip. Missy rubbernecked over my shoulder, hoping to see that magical sheen of light and hint of Godly power. Unfortunately, there was only the wood of the hilt and the dull grey of the blade.
"How does it work?" I asked, awkwardly. "I mean…"
"Like any other dagger," Newton answered. "It is God’s gift to you, but I solemnly stress it can only be used once. Prick any soul with this blade and that individual will vanish, never to return!"
Missy and I shared intrigued faces while Newton concluded, "This blade is one of a kind. Use it when you have absolutely no choice. That is all I have to say. Godspeed." And that was that, Sir Isaac Newton was gone, with the help of his Faraday forces and warping waves of Maxwell.
Eager to catch up to Kat, I returned the dagger prudently to its pouch and secured the belt around my waist. I then took a brief deep breath and bent to say goodbye to my life support. "Happy one hundred eighty-ninth birthday."
Her tears were never far away. "My birthday was last week. What if you don’t come back? What will I do with myself then?"
"This is not the end,” I whispered. “Remember?"
"I tell you to go!" she exclaimed, pushing herself on my chest. "I can't stand this and I’ll never forgive you for putting me through it! Go now! Hurry!"
She drew away and I watched her float like a vanishing dream, her mournful face getting smaller and smaller.
"You’ll see me again!" I cried. "I’ll be coming back, Missy! I’ll make it! I'll come back! You just wait and see!"
Becoming part of the Waiting Plain, Missy also was gone, and I was alone again in limbo. Quickly, I set after the samurai warrior, who was some way away…