Live

I didn’t argue. The door at the end of the corridor now seemed an incredibly long distance away. Still, I had broken into a fairly steady lope and was narrowing in on the exit quickly; the wooden pews were just a blur around me. I reached the opening of the chapel and slid through. As I did so, I had to look backwards to shut the door.

The pews were on fire. Brilliant red flames licked at the age-old wood, their golden tongues caressing the backs of the benches. Standing at the foot of the altar was a man, darkened by the shadow of the cross. It seemed as if no light could touch him; the fiery rays did nothing to alleviate the darkness enveloping him. His hair glinted.

I shivered, and slammed the door shut.

Turning, I quickly took in the square. Dusky purple light had descended on it, and the sky above was littered with clouds that menacingly glared down on us, their intangible quality overshadowed by the colour of gloom. The marketeers were hurriedly packing up their goods. No customers were wandering the aisles. It was spitting, but something told me the traders weren’t worried about the weather.

Running through the rows of shops, I focussed on not tripping up or looking back. I wasn’t the athletic type, so I needed to concentrate on getting away from the church. I glanced at one of the stalls – a delicate porcelain statuette had caught my eye – and as my gaze returned to the aisle, I saw a man step out in front of me. I skidded on the wet cobblestones, but it was too little too late. I wildly flung an arm in front of my face, and –

Turbid light around me.
Beautiful washes of pulsating color.

I was lying on my back, staring up at the thunderheads. I looked to my right. The man was continuing on up the aisle, unscathed. I looked to my left. The Shifter had skidded along the ground, and was resting against a sack of potatoes. I mentally kicked myself, and picked up the gadget. I got up, and turned to face the church. The door opened, and a man strolled out. I pulled the lever on the Shifter, and grinned as the man started to run towards me.

Nothing happened.

Appeal

Entering the cool and dimly lit antechamber of the church, I paused and admired the delicate stained glass framed at the rear of the building. Briefly, I wondered how buildings constructed with so little technology could age so well and look so beautiful 250 years in the future, while the houses we build with computers and lasers crack and crumble in just 50.

‘Welcome,’ reverberated a voice from behind a podium. A hooded man rose up from the ground, and turned to face me. He looked vaguely familiar.
‘Um…hi,’ I replied, still strolling up the aisle. I set down the microscope on the altar, and one part of my mind stopped to consider the irony of this union of science and religion.
‘So, what has the Switchling brought us?’
‘…err, I don’t know’
‘You don’t know what you brought?’
‘This is a micro-…wait, what? I’m a switchling? What is a switchling?’ I demanded
‘It’s "Switchling", and you’ve been selected for the task,’ he replied

I didn’t like the way that sounded.

‘Selected?’
‘Yes. You’re the only one that can do it.’
‘Why?’
‘Why are you the only one that can do it, or why do you have to do the task?’
‘Both.’
‘You only get one answer.’
‘Fine…why do I have to do the task?’
‘Because you’re the only one that can do it.’
‘So why am I the only one that can do it, then? Why am I so special?’ I replied testily.
‘I told you. One answer.’
I considered punching him, but decided against it at the last minute.

‘Why? Why won’t you tell me why I have to do this?’
‘Because that’s the way it is.’

My fist clenched again.

‘Stop it! I need answers. I need them. And if I don’t get them, I’m walking out of here.’
‘You can’t.’
‘Why not.’
‘You don’t have any say in the matter.’

I picked up the microscope and pushed it into his hands, and as he stumbled back his hood fell off. I stormed down the aisle, grabbed the thick, wooden door handle and was midway through opening the giant door when I paused. I shut the door, and ran back down the aisle. The unveiled man was waiting.

‘You!’ I exclaimed.


At least, that’s what would have happened, had the bell tower not roared with a striking, deafening, rumbling roar of peals at the exact moment that the hooded man finished his sentence.

‘Run,’ he screamed.