John Jackson - The 9th Fortress

"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…

It was called the Distinct Earth, and the more steps I took toward it, the more this new world revealed itself. I could see the forming of clouds in the sky, and watched contorting shadows steadily transform into trunks and trees. Hearing the chirping birds and the rustling grass excited me. I wanted to run for more, if only to get that constant droning out of my ears, but I did not dare pass this man, this samurai warrior called Kat.

I hadn't seen his face since cowering from his earlier glare. I didn't care to see it again. It felt right to do something about our awkward silence though, but I had no idea what to say to a character like this, and I doubted the samurai would want or care to melt the gathering ice.

A weary spell soon sucked away any enthusiasm I had, and staring mindlessly at my steps, Kat's abrupt halt in front sent my face crashing between his shoulder blades.

"What?" I complained. "Why do you stop?"

Smudging my sore nose, I discovered every trace of the mundane white plain to be gone; we were now in the Distinct Earth proper. The first thing I noticed was how normal it all appeared, and that maybe, just maybe it was old Earth all along? The sky was a familiar bright blue with a ball of burning sun. The surrounding landscape was lush with long grasses and rolling hills, and apart from the two of us, there was not another angel, creature, or soul in sight.