James Palmer - Shadows Through Time

Abdullah sucked on his pipe thoughtfully, nodding. Ruffian Dick rolled his eyes. “There he goes again.”

“What’s he talking about?” said Burton. “Bismillah, I have had enough of riddles. Especially from myself.”

“We are all but aspects of the same Self,” said El-Yezdi, “facets of the same Reality.”

“But why have you brought me here?” asked Burton. “Why have you brought any of us here? And where the bloody hell is here?”

“That last one I can answer,” said Abdullah. “We’re in the Dream Realms that wind between realities.”

“And as for the first question,” said El-Yezdi, “because it is too late for us. And because you still have a chance to save your reality, your Earth.”

“What do you mean?” asked the explorer.

The commander of the Nautilus said, “Eldritch forces have decimated us. Our civilizations are in ruin. Those that are left are slaves to those terrible star things. El-Yezdi reached out to us, pulled us through the First Gate, to the Dream Realms. To find and help you.” He looked at Burton with his remaining eye grimly. “He said you were the key.”

“Yes,” said Burton. “He told me that in my dreams. But what does it mean? What is the Dream Key?”

“You are,” said El-Yezdi. You are our Facet in your reality. You anchor us and allow us to break through into your version of the All-is-One.”

“That still doesn’t make any bloody sense,” said Burton.

“We escaped our realities, with El-Yezdi’s help, through the Dreamlands,” said Ruffian Dick. “The Australian aborigines call it the Dreamtime. But it’s real. As real as my bloody brass arm. It’s like a nexus between all the facets of reality.”

The eye of every Burton turned toward him.

“What?” said Ruffian Dick. “I listen.”

“So the visions I saw. That was you lot coming to get me.” said Burton.

“Yes,” said Abdullah. “This desert, all the things you saw in your dreams, just dream-vistas, flashes from us as we moved closer and closer toward your facet. El-Yezdi sent them to you.”

“This boggles the mind,” said Burton. “We grow accustomed to the world being a certain way. We think we understand it, and then a new understanding upends it. What can I do? The Awakened are many, and have a small army of acolytes. I am but one man.”

El-Yezdi laughed then, a dry, almost ominous cackle.

“No,” said Abdullah the Bushri, “you are five. We are all you, remember? And you are all of us.”

“Bismillah!” Burton swore. “I didn’t think of that. But what exactly are we to do about the Awakened? They have hijacked the bodies of innocent people, including my friend Algernon.”

“Algy?” said Ruffian Dick. “I haven’t seen him in ages. Not since the Deep Ones took Trafalgar Square. How the bloody hell is he?”

“Alive,” said Burton, eying his doppelganger grimly. “And imprisoned in the deep past in the body of one of the Great Race.”

“Do not fear,” said El-Yezdi, “all shall be as it was. We have dealt with the Great Race of Yith before. We cannot kill them, but we can send them back to where and when they came before they complete their terrible ritual.”

Burton arched an eyebrow. “How?”

“The Great Race’s hold on your time is tenuous, and only moves easily in one direction.” said the mystic. “To return to their bodies they must make use of a special device they have someone build in whatever time period they have invaded.”

“Of course!” said Burton. “I’ve seen that device. My friends have the plans for its construction.”

“Excellent,” said El-Yezdi. “Truly you are the key.”

Burton raked a hand through his beard. “They are anticipating returning to their own time and bodies should their mission fail, and this Yog-Sothoth refuses to grant them their wish.”

“And what might that be?” asked Abdullah the Bushri. “And who or what is Yog-Sothoth?

“Yog-Sothoth is an outer god,” said El-Yezdi. He is the progenitor of Yug and Neb, sires of Cthulhu. He is omniscient, locked outside of all Time and Space. Yog-Sothoth sees all and can access all.”

“Why hasn’t he done anything about the four of you?” asked Burton.

“He does not care. We are beneath his notice and too far from his center of influence. Would you care that an ant is carrying a breadcrumb a mile from your house? As for the Great Race, they wish to have access to the other facets of reality,” said El-Yezdi. “That is why they summoned Yog-Sothoth in my facet. They have traveled ahead, far into the future, to the very death of your universe, to see how it all will end. They are ageless, timeless, but they cannot escape the end of Time itself. They will be torn apart by entropy just like everything else. Unless they can travel to another reality in which the universe is not yet in its death throes.”

“And again and again,” said Burton. “Through every possible reality. So how do we force them back to their own time preemptively, before they can summon Yog-Sothoth?”

“They must be in close proximity to the device when it is activated,” said El-Yezdi. “Within mere inches.”

“They are not going to go willingly,” said the Captain. “We could hold them down.”

“The device will be secreted away and heavily guarded,” said Burton. “And they now have an army of acolytes who protect them.”

“You’ll never get close enough,” said Ruffian Dick, tapping the fingers of his mechanical arm once more on the table.

Burton looked across the table at his double, his mouth widening into a smile. “Maybe we don’t have to. My friends have the plans for this device. They are very clever. I’m sure they can build another one. A better one.”

“By midnight your time?” said Captain Burton. “Ha!”

Burton arched an eyebrow. “We have to try. Besides, I know a way we might be able to get more time. But I must get back and tell my friends. There is much to do, and we are short on time.”

He looked at the assembly of doppelgangers before saying, “Um, how do I get back?”

“I will help you,” said El-Yezdi, his eyes once more burrowing into Burton’s soul. “You have no doubt noticed the Wold-Newton fragments embedded in my forehead. They help me focus my mental powers. Through them I am able to traverse the different facets of reality, as the Great Race of your facet seek to do.”

“Why haven’t they succeeded?” asked Burton.

“Because they are minds without bodies. It takes both body and mind together, working in concert. They can shift reality only slightly, as well as increase their own ability to tell the future. To pierce the veil between realities, they need Yog-Sothoth.”

Burton nodded. “They have used both talents to great effect. But how else can you help?”

“We can offer guidance, aspects of our being, but we cannot enter your facet. We are nothing but dream stuff. Only Yog-Sothoth could bring us through the Gate to your reality. And then there would be too many iterations of the Wold-Newton stones in a single facet. The resulting psychic resonance would kill the Awakened, as you call them, including your friend Swinburne. They would still exist, but their minds would be trapped in the past, in alien bodies, for the rest of the Great Race’s natural lifespan.”

“I understand. At least I think I understand. I thank you for your assistance. I am ready to return.”

“Very well,” said El-Yezdi. “Clear your mind. Begin the meditation that brought you here.”

Burton closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Soon he felt himself drifting away.

“Bismillah!”

Burton opened his eyes and sat bolt upright, knocking the crystals resting on his chest and forehead to the floor. Lady Helena ceased her ministrations and looked down at him, concerned. “Well, Captain Burton?”