Between

Intro

When you write for a living, generating ideas is a huge part of the job. Everything starts with ideas, and from those grow the worlds and the characters and the stories that you share with the world. Now, it would be wonderful if every idea to come to mind were solid gold. Such is not the case. Heck, such is seldom the case. Most ideas, with work, can be made into something worth sharing. But some of them… some of them are different.

I have a few series now. The Book of Deacon catches most of my fantasy ideas. Big Sigma catches most of my sci-fi. For things that lie somewhere in the middle ground, Free-Wrench is usually a good fit. But some ideas just don’t fit anywhere. Maybe they are too comedic. Maybe they bend the rules of a setting a little too far. Maybe, let’s face it, they aren’t very good. I’m sure plenty of people can just throw these ideas away and move on, but I’ve got a terrible habit of fixating on something until I get it written down. For me, writing is as much about letting the ideas out of my head to make room for new ones as anything else. So having a problematic idea lodged in my skull is a real problem for me.

To solve the stubborn bad idea problem, I started a Word document on my computer labeled The Bad Idea Exercise. I would jot down, or sometimes even flesh out, the awful ideas that I couldn’t get past. Once they were exorcised from my brain, I could move on. But that file… I don’t know. There were things in it that I really liked. They would have been horribly out of place anywhere in my other stories, but they made me smile. So I decided I’d scrape the best of them together into a patchwork setting and start putting them out once a week, unedited and free, for anyone who wanted to read them. I called the result Between.

For nearly a year I kept at it, but around the time I became a full-time author, I realized I couldn’t justify continuing it when stories people were begging me to continue weren’t finished yet. I set Between aside and moved on. But The Bad Idea Exercise continued to grow, and eventually I realized I might just have the dots necessary to connect into a complete story. I took a month or two, once I was a bit ahead on my other series, and finished up Between. I handed it off to my (no doubt very confused) editor, and the result is what you see before you.

I hope you enjoy this, the literary equivalent of turning spoiled milk into tasty cheese, because it was a riot to write it.

Episode 1

Philo opened his eyes. Everything around him was dark and still. He spent a few seconds trying to figure out if that was good or bad. Darkness and stillness aren’t the worst things to wake up to, all things considered. Fire and screaming, for instance, would have been much worse. However, since he couldn’t remember what he had been doing before he fell asleep, it was distinctly possible that darkness and silence were bad. He chose to be cautiously optimistic, at least until he remembered a few more details. Nothing major, just little things like where he was and his last name.

Okay, he said out loud, noting that he was able to speak and breathe—two more things to add to the good column. The sound of his voice had a muted, close quality to it, as though he sat in the center of a very small space. I am sitting in a chair. He tried to stand, unsuccessfully. Strapped. I am strapped in a chair. And I can’t see anything. Either it’s completely dark, or I’m blind. I’m going to hope it’s the first one.

His arms were free, so he felt along his chest in search of buckles to release himself. By probing along with his fingers, he found that the straps holding him in place weren’t part of something as simple as a racing harness. They disappeared into the cushioned chair behind him. Whoever had done the strapping had been extremely thorough, too. Straps crisscrossed his chest and held each of his legs to individual leg rests. The only things with any freedom were his head and his arms.

It briefly occurred to Philo that awaking in an unfamiliar location, strapped to a chair, with no memory of how he ended up in such a state was the sort of thing that should at the very least make him nervous. He set aside that thought, reasoning that a lack of panic was just another thing to add to the good column. This good column was really filling up!

At either side of the chair were armrests, and along the front edge of one armrest was an array of buttons.

Oh, good. Buttons. Those usually do things, he remarked.

There were five buttons, one much larger than the others. He picked the big button and gave it a press. The straps released with a quick sequence of clicks.

"Right, strap-release button. So that means I’m either not a prisoner, or I am a prisoner, but my captors are extremely trusting or inept. More stuff for the good column."

He tried to sit up and immediately slapped his face into something. Whatever it was swung away when he struck it, then slapped him again on the return swing. He leaned back and grasped blindly until he found the culprit. It was light, roughly rectangular, and dangled from a springy coil. The front of the object was smooth, while the back had a matte finish. In his investigation, his fingers brushed a small button near the top corner, which caused the glassy front to spring to life. It took on a dull glow that caused him to squint and turn away until his darkness-adjusted eyes could tolerate the light. When he could look at the screen without pain, he turned back to it. There were words, black text on a white background: Test Subject Philo Middleton: Post-Phase Instructional Materials. Tap to continue.

Oh, good! I thought I was going to have to figure everything out on my own. He tapped the screen. The text vanished, replaced by a video of an old woman with thick glasses. She was dressed in clinical attire and had short white hair.

Hello, Philo, she said. You may be experiencing some confusion and disorientation. This is normal. Your faculties should return within twenty minutes. At this point, you may not remember me. My name is Darva. Her voice was rather impressive in that it was entirely devoid of anything even resembling enthusiasm.

Well, that’s a relief, Philo said.

If you are viewing this video rather than being debriefed personally by laboratory staff, then you have successfully advanced beyond the first phase of the experiment. On the leading edge of the right armrest of your seat you will find five buttons. Please depress the large central button to disconnect your restraints.

Way ahead of you, Darva, Philo said, proud that he seemed to be overachieving.

Depressing the leftmost button should activate interior lights in the test capsule. Please activate these lights and prepare to perform a systems check.

Philo squinted in preparation for the brightness of the lights, then pressed the indicated button. Two rings of light appeared, one above him and one below him, illuminating his surroundings. He looked around. It was certainly a very interesting place. The room was spherical, or at least as near spherical as the designers could manage, and was maybe eight feet in diameter. Hemispherical metal braces divided the walls into slices like the sections of an orange. The wall behind them was covered in a strange, rough-looking black fabric. Strung between the braces were bundles of wires and conduit that connected various junction boxes and panels. The assorted gadgetry all had familiar shapes, but like most of the thoughts in his brain at the moment, he couldn’t quite wrangle them into the light of comprehension.

Next he looked down at himself. He wore a white and blue jumpsuit. There were suction cups attached to his wrists and ankles. Wires ran from the cups he could see and a handful hidden out of view and under clothes. They connected to a medical monitor on the wall directly in front of him. To the left of the monitor he spotted a rectangular door. No, it wasn’t a rectangle, because it was on the surface of a sphere. What was the name of a thing that would be a rectangle if it wasn’t on a curved surface? He mused about this for a few seconds, then realized that the video hadn’t stopped playing while he was admiring his surroundings.

… seventy-five degrees clockwise. This is crucially important, as failure to do so could result in stasis failure, she continued.

Whoa! Hold on, Darva! he said, pulling down the tablet screen and tapping it a few times. He was able to make it pause and start, but not rewind. As continuing to try to figure it out would only mean more missed information, he left it paused.

Okay. Let’s finish looking around before we get back to pushy ol’ Darva, he said.

He looked up and saw that the chair he sat in was suspended in the center of the sphere by sturdy steel struts, one stretching up from the top of the headrest and one each leading out from the four corners of the seat. It was actually a very comfy chair, far nicer than the sort of thing you’d expect to find among such scientifically inclined apparatus. The very bottom of the sphere had a platform creating a small floor covered with the same black fabric as the walls. He leaned over the side and noticed a few cases securely strapped to the floor, but while he was trying to read the labels, the rings of light started to flicker and fade. Just as he looked up to them, they cut out entirely, and a moment later red lights illuminated the capsule.

Red… red light is bad. We’re putting this in the bad column. Talk to me, Darva. He tapped the screen to resume the video.

The woman on the tablet screen continued, running through procedures involving assorted control panels and mechanisms around the capsule that were blacked out and nonfunctional. Eventually she got to a sentence that was actually relevant.

In the event of failure of primary power, yellow backup lights will illuminate…

Those are red lights, Darva. Get it straight.

… Emergency equipment and procedures can be found in the area beneath your seat. Beside it will be a panel displaying a fault code. Refer to the matching section of the emergency manual to correct the indicated fault. When you are ready to proceed, tap the right side of the screen. If you need to repeat this video, tap the left side of the screen.

"You couldn’t have started with the emergency stuff?" he said, swinging the tablet out of his way and sliding from the seat.

He dropped to the floor. The cases strapped there were silver, and the color of the stenciled labeling was red, which made it very difficult to read in the glow of red emergency lights.

I’m blaming you for this, Darva, he muttered.

A bit more inspection turned up the emergency case, which was the size of a large suitcase. He clicked it open and found a small LED flashlight, a pile of sealed envelopes, and a few smaller cases. One of the envelopes was labeled Emergency Procedures. He tore it open and found a spiral-bound Fault Index booklet.

Let’s see here, he said, eyeing up the area beside the cases. Fault code, fault code…

There was certainly a small square panel where the video instructor had indicated, but there didn’t seem to be any code—unless a complete lack of any visible information was one of the codes, which might make sense if it was a secret code. But if it was a secret, Darva probably would have been more coy about it. He shrugged and flipped to the index, reading aloud as he slid his finger along.

"‘Fault Code 01: General Relay Fault.’ … No, not that. He flipped ahead. ‘Fault Code 1d: Fleisher Circuit Misalignment.’ Hope it’s not that. That sounds complicated. … ‘Fault Code FF, or Missing Fault Code.’ There we go. He flipped to the indicated page. ‘In the event an unknown error occurs, the fault code will read ‘FF.’ Such a fault cannot be repaired from inside the capsule. Contact qualified technicians over the radio link located on the left armrest.’ Oh nice, a radio. Another one for the good column. He read on. ‘In all other instances the display should read 00. The only exception is if there is a complete failure of both primary and backup power. This status can be confirmed by the presence of the red standby lights instead of the yellow backup lights. The emergency lights will remain illuminated for approximately five minutes after total power failure. In this event, gather the Disembarkation Kit and consult the dedicated Disembarkation Manual immediately.’ Well, at least there’s a plan."

The next case down appeared to be the Disembarkation Kit.

He snickered. Disembarkation. Sounds like a surgery for a noisy dog.

Inside the kit was a variety of equipment: cold-weather clothes, warm-weather clothes, something that looked like a scuba suit, and the instruction manual for something called an EVA suit. He looked at the diagram, which looked like a cross between a space suit and plate mail. The first half of the booklet listed assembly instructions, indicating that when properly constructed, the contents of a pile of cases and bags occupying nearly the entire portion of the capsule behind the chair would form an airtight pressure suit with propulsion, life support, and illumination.

He cleared his throat. To assemble the EVA suit, first identify the bag labeled EVA Assembly Tools and Fasteners. Inside you will find a set of Allen keys, sixty M5 machine screws of the following lengths’… He sighed. This is getting dull in a hurry.

The sheer amount of documentation was daunting, so he set it aside and flipped through the various pages and booklets looking for something interesting, or at least something he could comprehend. If the video instructor had been right about the twenty-minute timeline for his faculties returning, then he was a bit behind the curve. Either that or he was short on faculties to begin with, which seemed fairly likely at this point.

His search had turned up a few interesting goodies, including an audio/video headset, a 9mm pistol and a few clips, and a handy multi-tool with pliers. He was busy cataloging the many attachments the tool had—and bemoaning the fact that it didn’t have a toothpick or a corkscrew—when the emergency lights faded.

Okay, okay, fine. I’ll get a move on, he said, fumbling for the flashlight. He flipped it on and found the Disembarkation Manual again. Blah blah checklist, blah blah EVA suit. Blah blah suffocation. His eyes widened. "‘If disembarkation is due to total power failure, care must be taken to escape the capsule quickly, as lack of power will prevent the life support system from processing oxygen.’ Now that seems like the sort of thing they’d write on the first page."

Perhaps it was just the power of suggestion, but within moments of learning of the suffocation risk, the air around him began to feel stuffy and close. Disembarkation procedure… page one of sixty?! Nope, we’re doing the quick version. He flipped through the pages. "Ah. ‘To manually open the door, firmly grasp the central wheel, give it three full turns clockwise, then pull the lever toward you.’"

He pinned the flashlight between his head and shoulder, then stepped to the door. A tag warned him not to open it until he’d completed the mandatory safety checklist, which he promptly discarded.

"I’m blaming you for this too, Darva. Next time make the important stuff more interesting!" he said.

The wheel was stiff. It took all his strength to turn it. As he did, he gave himself a pep talk. Okay, Philo. We’re going to open this door. You still don’t remember anything, but that’s good. No expectations means nothing is unexpected. Just get the door open, get some fresh air, and whatever it is, go with the flow.

A loud grinding clank rattled the workings of the door as he finished the third full turn. He quickly pulled the lever and hauled the door open, revealing… nothing. Outside the door he saw nothing but a featureless void of white. He leaned out, holding tight to the grip opposite the door’s hinge, and looked down. The outside of the capsule was as spherical as the inside. There were assorted greeblies speckling the surface—electronic nodes, looping wires, and spidery antennae—but for the most part it was nothing but a ball not much larger than its interior. It also wasn’t supported by anything above or below. It was simply adrift in an endless, vertigo-inducing white space.

Okay, Philo noted appreciatively, didn’t see that coming.

Episode 2

Philo scratched his head as he looked out the door of his capsule. If he’d sat down and made a list of the things he might have imagined he’d find when he opened the door, blank space probably wouldn’t have been one of the things at the top of the list… although technically it would have already been on the list before he started, so it would have been at the very top and he would have been less correct with each guess. Lesson learned? Don’t bother guessing.

Once he got over the strangeness of discovering that there was nothing to discover, he started to note some of the other unusual things. Despite the endless field of white that surrounded his capsule, there didn’t actually seem to be any light. When he put his hand outside he could see it clearly, when he pulled it inside, it was in shadow. The light stopped at the door, like it was afraid to come inside.

I’ve discovered shy light, he remarked, jutting his hand in and out a few times. He stuck his head out and looked down. I wonder how far down it goes.

After digging around in one of the boxes to find something he wouldn’t mind losing, he pulled the scuba mask from the Disembarkation Kit and leaned out the door.

So long, mask, he said, tossing it down. The mask darted downward, then hooked under the capsule and out of sight. He leaned out farther to try to keep an eye on it. Hey, stay where I can see you, you stupid… Something cracked him on the back of the head. Ow! He twisted to look up and found the scuba mask twirling in the air above him for a moment before dropping to the outer surface of the capsule. … What are you doing back here?

He grabbed the mask again and gave it another toss, this time ducking back into the door and looking warily upward. A moment later the mask plummeted by the doorway. A moment after that it plummeted by again. The third time it passed he reached out and caught it. Experimentally, he threw it to the left. A moment later, it whipped by from the right.

So gravity is kind of a wildcard out there, he observed. Good to know. I should be writing this down.

A bit of searching turned up a pad and pen. He jotted Important Discoveries at the top of the first page, then started a bulleted list. The first two points were Shy Light and Indecisive Gravity. He watched the mask whiz by for a while.

This is fun, discovering things and such. I’ll bet when my faculties return it’ll turn out I’m a scientist or something. Heck, I’ll bet I’m supposed to be doing all sorts of science stuff right now. Where’s that tablet? Let’s get to business, Darva.

He stepped back to the stubbornly dark interior of the capsule and pulled himself up into the chair. The tablet still dangled from the roof of the capsule by a rubber-coated coil. He investigated it for a bit, then discovered that the coil was just some sort of tether, and it could be unhooked without much difficulty.

Let’s hear it, he stated, leaning back in the seat and tapping the screen.

A video began to play, with the woman he knew only as Darva continuing in a flavorless monotone. By now your faculties should have returned…

Wrong, Darva.

… so you can proceed with the activities covered in your prephase briefing. If not, pause this video and consult the Test Subject Overview Packet to familiarize yourself with the key points of your identity and mission.

He tapped the screen. Excellent! Cheat sheet for the faculty challenged! He hopped down and clicked on the flashlight, looking through the increasingly disorganized mound of materials on the floor around the chair. Stupid faculties. Wandering off and not returning. ‘Faculties’ is a stupid term to use anyway. It makes my head sound like a university or something. Ah, here we are. Test Subject Overview.

It was a small paper packet, about the size of an index card. He tore open the end and removed, predictably, an index card. He cleared his throat and read the card. Test Subject 42. Name: Middleton, Philo Heironymus. … My middle name is Heironymus? I must have some weird parents. … Age: 28. Weight: 178 lbs. Hair: Brown. Eyes: Hazel. Criteria for Selection: Extreme Psychological Resilience. Mission: To test the viability of the Dimensional Capsule and observe and record any findings. He flipped the card over, finding nothing else. Well thanks a bunch, Darva, that clears everything up. He began to imitate what he imagined to be the voices of the people organizing the mission. "What do you think an amnesiac test subject would want to know? Well, make sure to put his eye color on there. What about hometown, or family? No, no. Eye color and hair color. That should cover it. Oh, and weight. He’ll want to know if he’s fat or skinny. He tossed the card away. Well, at least I know it’s a dimensional capsule now… which I guess means I’m in another dimension. Also, I’m psychologically resilient. Whatever that means. I choose to interpret it as a compliment. Another one for the good column."

He tapped the screen and Darva began to speak again. Please remember to record any and all observations thoroughly with the AV recorder. The high-capacity battery and memory chip will provide up to two hundred hours of high-fidelity audio and high-definition video. If you decide you need to record more, charging and data transfer cables are in the Documentation Kit, as well as instructions on how to archive data. Remember to cover all items on the Observation Checklist, also found in the Documentation Kit. When you are through with your observations, tap this screen to continue.

The video cut to a text screen with the instructions she’d just given verbally.

"So I’m supposed to observe… Well I was already observing. But I guess I’ll strap on that headset and see what’s on this checklist."

The headset was a decidedly futuristic accessory. It looked like a pair of glasses, though only one eye had a lens. That eye also had a camera attached. It was about the size of a tube of lipstick and had a small hole with a metal grill over it that Philo supposed was a microphone. A second microphone extended from the end of a stalk, which stuck down in the general direction of his mouth. A few clearly marked buttons dotted the side, the largest of which was the record button. He slipped the headset on. It held firmly but comfortably to his head. When he clicked Record, a small video preview briefly showed in the one lens over his eye. It then shrank down to show a dB meter that moved when he spoke.

"Okay, this is Philo Middleton speaking. Despite some very sketchy advice from Darva—if you’re watching this, Darva, you need to work on your instructional videos—I am now all set to start my very important mission. There’s a checklist here, so I’m just going to go through it. ‘1. Time: Record time from capsule chronometer.’ Well nothing in the capsule works, but I woke up a few minutes ago, so we’ll call the time T plus a few minutes. ‘2. Temperature: Record the temperature from the capsule thermometer.’ Again, nothing in the capsule works—you’re really batting a thousand on this one, Darva—but it feels about… how do you estimate temperature? It isn’t hot, it isn’t cold. It’s like… do you ever lie in bed with the covers over you for so long that it feels like the whole world is the same temperature as your body? It is like that. Blanket-comfy. ‘3. Weather Conditions.’ He stuck his head out the capsule door to look around. It doesn’t seem—"

The still-orbiting scuba mask struck him in the head.

"Ow! Stupid… okay, I might be jumping the gun on this particular observation, but wherever it is that I’ve ended up, there’s weird gravity. Originally I labeled it ‘Indecisive Gravity,’ but after getting clocked in the back of the head twice, I’m officially upgrading it to ‘Three Stooges Gravity.’ I guess it is also worth recording that while I still can’t remember if I have a wife and kids, apparently I can remember the Three Stooges. So at least the important stuff is coming back to me. Anyway, weather. He stuck his head out and looked around. I’m going to call that ‘not applicable.’ Unless that white is actually from clouds, in which case we’ll call it cloudy. Next, ‘4. Flora and Fauna. Also not applicable.’ Finally, ‘5. Unique Observations.’ Okay, we’ll put the Stooges Gravity and Shy Light here instead. So… that’s the checklist. Just to recap: Time, A few minutes after I woke up. Temperature, Blanket-comfy. Weather, nope. Flora and Fauna, also nope. Observations, wacky gravity and light that won’t come indoors. Philo out. He stopped recording. What’s next, Darva?"

He tapped the screen. If you are satisfied with your observations and the ship has passed all systems checks, then open the Recall Procedure document and follow the simple instructions. If the ship failed any of its systems tests, follow the appropriate emergency procedures. If there is a failure of both primary and secondary power, attempt the automatic restart routine by holding the rightmost button on your armrest for ten seconds. If that fails, consult the Contingency Kit. This concludes your video instruction.

Philo pulled himself into the seat again and held down the button. After well over thirty seconds, there was no sign of success.

Big surprise there. Let’s look at this Contingency Kit.

He slid down, sifted through the pile of cases, and found one with the proper label. It was the size of a wedding ring box. He opened it.

… Oh screw you, Darva.

Inside was a capsule with a single line of instructions. Bite down on capsule for swift, painless death.

He angrily tapped the record button again and pulled the headset off, pointing the camera at his face.

"Listen up, Darva. I don’t know who you are. Hells, I barely know who I am, but considering the fact that you gave me a suicide pill and told me to take it if your precious capsule doesn’t work, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say we aren’t friends. Now I don’t know how I’m going to get home, but you can be damn sure I will get home, just so I can see your face when you watch this video and see me do this! Philo flipped up his middle finger and made a great show of waving it at the camera. Oh yeah, that’s right. I just flipped you the bird from another dimension. That’s an interdimensional bird-flipping. And you know what, Darva? I’m going to record a ton of stuff now. I’m going to do it just to spite you. I’ll make groundbreaking discoveries, and I’ll name every single one of them after me. And then I’ll come back and make you watch every second of this video. He slipped the headset back on and grabbed the Contingency Kit. And you see this, Darva? This is what I think of your contingency plan."

He reeled back and hurled the case out the door of the capsule, sending it twirling away. In seconds it was completely out of sight. When he was certain it wasn’t going to come twirling back, he heaved a sigh.

Well, that felt good. He took a deep breath. Now… what to do next.

#

Click.

"Okay, I figured out there is a little time-stamp option for this headset, so at least I know how long it’s been since I recorded the first video. Two hours, by the way. I spent the last hour looking around here for something worth doing. Let me tell you something, Darva—there is nothing fun in this capsule. No games on that tablet. There’s not even a deck of cards or a yo-yo. Way to plan ahead, Darva. Anyway, I’ve decided I’m going to climb outside because I’m getting a little stir crazy. He looked down at a rope tied to the handrail beside the exit. I’ve got a tether here, just in case. So, let’s get to it, then."

He stuck his head out the door and looked around. To one side of the door a row of built-in rungs extended along the surface of the capsule. He twisted around, sat on the edge of the door, and grabbed on to the rungs. As soon as a reasonably large portion of his body was outside the capsule, though, he began to notice something odd.

Um… okay, different parts of my body are having a disagreement about which way is down. My legs, which are inside, definitely want to go toward the floor of the capsule. My arms and head, which are outside, want to go toward the center of the capsule. It feels really weird. I’m going to call it ‘The Philo Effect.’ Deal with it, Darva.

Philo grabbed the rungs with both hands and began to slide himself out of the capsule. It was phenomenally disorienting. His brain told him he should be climbing the ladder, but his arms and legs increasingly suggested he was crawling across the ladder. With a final, unsteady shift of his weight, he slid his feet out of the capsule and onto the rungs.

Okay… starting to regret this decision, he said, his hands shaking as he gripped the rungs.

He looked down, or at least in the direction of the portion of the capsule that had the floor, and saw nothing but more of the same endless white void. It was like clinging to the top of a massive skyscraper, or maybe walking the wing of an airplane, except rather than wind whistling in his ears, there was no sound at all, not even the slightest breeze.

There is no wind. I’m not actually sure if there’s any air. I mean, obviously I’m breathing and such, but… I don’t know, it is like the temperature and the light. None of it works the way it should. The light isn’t coming from anywhere; it is just there or it isn’t. I can feel that I’m not freezing or sweltering, but I can’t pinpoint anything as specific as hot or cold. It’s the same way with the air. I can feel it fill my lungs and rustle my nose hair and such, but at the same time it feels like it isn’t there at all… Great. Now I’m thinking about breathing. I guess that’s better than thinking about falling. He looked down again. And now I’m thinking about falling again.

Rather than get caught in a breathing/falling anxiety loop, he decided to keep climbing until he ran out of rungs, which took him to what the engineers who designed the capsule must have considered to be the top. Once there he reeled in the slack on the tether and tugged to see if it was securely tied. Satisfied, he shakily released the rungs and stepped onto the surface of the sphere.

There, ta-da! he proclaimed. He looked around him. Now with an unobstructed view, the all-encompassing nature of the white around him made his head spin. It was utterly featureless, not a speck of black, a shape, a line. Just white in every direction. Look at all the nothing… He cupped his hands to his mouth. "HELLO! … Nothing. Not even an echo. It is humbling, you know? I feel so insignificant. … Actually, strike that. If I’m the only one here, then I’m incredibly significant. By default, I am the most significant thing around. Still small, but very significant. Like a grain of sand in the eye. Philo H. Middleton: A Grain of Sand in The Eye of Creation. Cool, I’ve got a name for my memoir now. Philo out."

#

Click.

"We’re about three hours into my expedition, and I thought this would make for a good update. It turns out, gravity is totally treating the capsule like a little planet. The surface of the capsule is the ground, and the white void is the sky, and stuff always falls to the ground. The only exception is when I’m inside the capsule, in which case the floor is down. Found that out the hard way when I fell in the doorway, and about halfway through I hit the chair and then fell again and hit the floor. To illustrate this principle, I’m going to create a landmark."

He stooped and picked up the scuba mask. Just beside the very top of the capsule was an antenna. Philo hung the mask on the antenna.

"And now, in an unprecedented showing of bravado, I’m going to… drum roll please… remove the tether! Taking care to keep the entire process in the shot, Philo looked down and untied his safety line and threw it away. Now watch."

With slow, steady steps Philo began to pace along the surface of the capsule. Rather than quickly slipping off the edge, he simply continued forward. After very few steps he came to the door of the capsule and looked down into it.

Watch this.

Philo pulled a crumpled up envelope from the pocket of his jumpsuit, then turned on the flashlight and pointed it down into the capsule. He dropped the paper and it fell down into the door, then quickly curved toward the floor of the capsule and bounced to a stop.

Neat huh. That’s a practical demonstration of The Philo Effect.

He hopped over the door, continued walking, and eventually came back upon the scuba mask without ever having turned.

There. I’ve circumnavigated the world. Philo out.

#

Click.

Philo had removed the headset and was pointing it at his face. "We’re about twelve hours in now. A few more observations. I just realized that I haven’t gotten tired or hungry since I showed up. I haven’t gotten thirsty either. And since there’s been no input, there’s been no output, which is good news because you didn’t put a bathroom in that capsule. Way to think ahead, Darva. I did find some diapers, but something tells me that was just Darva seeing if I’d do something that humiliating. What I did get is bored. Luckily I’m resourceful, and I have a lot of food bars that I’m apparently not going to need."

He slipped the headset back on and looked up. A galaxy of foil-wrapped food bars, water bottles, and both of his boots were flying through the air just above head height. They were orbiting around the capsule in a dozen different directions, some quickly, some slowly. He stepped back and watched one whiz by at chest level.

It’s like plate spinning. Beat that, Darva. Philo out.

#

Click.

The video is once again from Philo’s point of view. Okay… forty hours in. Still haven’t slept. Haven’t even yawned. So I… He paused, then yawned loudly. "… Shouldn’t have mentioned it. Anyway. The days are bleeding together. Or the things that would be days, if there were nights. How do I say this, then? The twenty-four-hour periods are bleeding together. Getting a little loopy. I figure I need to stave off the isolation. To that end, I’d like you to meet Bosco. Say hello, Bosco."

Philo poked his hand up in front of the camera. He had formed a crude puppet by drawing eyes and a mustache on his sock and slipping it over his hand.

’ello, Philo, he said in a cockney accent, working the mouth in rough sync with his words.

Maybe you’d like to introduce your friend, Philo suggested.

This is me ol’ friend Deirdre, the sock puppet said.

He poked his second hand into view. This one was outfitted with his other sock, on which he’d drawn a face with prominent eyelashes and a beauty mark.

Well hello, he said in a piercing falsetto.

So anyway, I’m confident these two will be enough to keep me sane for a while. Philo out.

#

Click.

Okay… No way, is that accurate? Okay, we’re one hundred and thirty hours in. Philo’s voice was a bit strained, clear excitement in his tone. Bosco and Deirdre got into an argument and now they aren’t speaking to each other, so I figured I’d watch the orbiting snacks for a while, when I noticed something. Look over there.

He pointed Bosco, still on his hand. Doing so placed his hand in the path of the various flying bars. They bumped into the sock puppet and fell out of orbit.

Oh, sorry about that, Bosco. Here, let me clear those out. Deirdre, lend a face.

With both sock-clad hands, he snatched the various items from the air and dumped them into the hatch of the capsule.

Anyway, I don’t know if the camera can see that, but look.

In the distance, there was a tiny speck. It was barely there at all, but after staring at the unbroken field of white for so long, it was like a brilliant red bulls-eye to Philo.

It’s been there for the last twenty minutes, but now I’m absolutely certain it’s getting closer.

He watched in quiet awe as the speck in the distance grew imperceptibly larger. As it did, details began to emerge. First was the color. It was lavender. A few minutes later he could see that it wasn’t a dot, but a line. It was flitting through the void like a ribbon caught in the wind, threading its way toward him. Without any reference it was impossible to say how large it was, but proportionately it was shaped like a python. It was a tube, more or less uniformly thick at this distance, but much longer than it was wide.

Soon it was near enough for him to see that it wasn’t uniform in color. Three lighter purple stripes ran along its length. The front and back of it seemed to be flared somewhat, with three points instead of a single one. It was at this point that he became certain that what he was looking at was some sort of creature. The thought flitted briefly through his mind that he should get inside the capsule, lock the door, and wait until the thing was gone. Like most of the thoughts in his head, it didn’t stick around for long enough to take root. He was far too busy reveling in the excitement of seeing another living thing to do anything but watch with anticipation as it drew nearer.

While it had taken several minutes to become near enough to see, it closed the remaining distance to him in seemingly no time at all. It moved like an eel, rippling smoothly along. The lighter stripes were finned ridges, and the rear flare was a trio of tentacles or tails. The front flare was a matching trio of heads, and one of the fins ran along the back of each one all the way to the end of the matching tail. The creature was moving too quickly for him to see more details before it darted up to the capsule and coiled around it. The creature constricted lightly, its momentum causing the whole capsule to rotate a bit as it came to a stop. The thing’s body was long enough to entirely encircle the capsule with enough slack for the heads to rise up about five feet. They did so briefly, then plunged into the open hatch.

Philo adjusted to the spin and cautiously approached the hatch, hands held out to the side to try to maintain his balance.

Um… Hello? he said.

All three heads darted up and looked at him. The trio was nearly identical, though the heads on the left and the right had to twist a bit to adopt the same orientation as the center one. Each looked a bit like a horse’s head if someone had made a sculpture of one and then kept deciding to make the snout a little narrower. Alternately, they might have been a particularly sleek interpretation of a dragon’s head. The heads were about the length and a bit less than the thickness of Philo’s thigh. Their snouts were long, narrow, and pointed. Each had two nostril slits near the tip and the thin line of a mouth running along the jawline. At the other end of the snouts was a pair of large, inquisitive eyes. The eyes had enormous irises, so large there was nearly no white around them. The iris was black with a pearlescent sheen, and the pupils were vertical slits. The top of the head had three tall frills folded back, with a few smaller spines scattered between to form something akin to a head of spiky hair. The frills met in the back and merged into the long back fin. A pair of small otter-like ears flapped a bit on either side of each head. The skin was a gorgeous and vibrant lavender color, gleaming with an oily sheen.

The heads adjusted so that the center one looked him in the eye while the left and right heads looked to his outstretched hands. The right head had one of his boots in its mouth, dangling by the laces.

Hello, he repeated.

All three heads suddenly shifted to stare at his left hand. He looked to it and realized he still had the sock puppets on.

Oh, sorry, he said.

He reached over with one socked hand and pulled the sock from the other. Instantly the three heads pulled back, utter terror in their eyes and mouths open in horror. His frazzled brain snapped into action, pointing out a number of things it probably should have indicated earlier.

You just met a creature with three heads. You have one head, plus two hands with faces on them. You just pulled the face off one of them. What did that look like to the creature? he thought.

Oops.

Episode 3

Philo Middleton’s memory was still very hazy. He couldn’t remember anything specific that had happened to him prior to waking up in a high-tech capsule. Regardless, he was fairly certain this was the strangest thing that had ever happened to him. He was standing barefoot on the surface of a hollow ball of miscellaneous science, floating in an endless white void, wearing a sock puppet on one hand and staring down a three-headed purple sea serpent, who was recoiling in horror after watching him remove the other sock puppet.

For a long few seconds both man and serpent were frozen in shock. Not knowing what else to do, Philo dropped the removed sock puppet. All three of his visitor’s heads watched the face-bearing tube of fabric fall. When it struck the capsule with a quiet flap, the serpent produced a chorus of squealing screams. In a blur of motion, it unwrapped itself from around the capsule, spinning it like a top and throwing Philo from his feet. The creature wrapped coil after coil of itself over its heads, raveling itself up until it looked like a massive pink tangle of yarn. The frilly spines running along its back stood straight up giving it an intimidating, spiky look. When it was fully wadded up, the creature dropped to the surface of the capsule and settled into the dip created by the open hatch.

Philo climbed unsteadily to his feet and eyed up the huge lavender ball of coils. It was visibly trembling, causing the whole capsule to vibrate under his feet. He could hear terrified gibbering from the heads, muffled in the center of the ball. As he tried to work out what to do next, he realized that he could actually understand some of the sounds that were filtering out to him.

That thing is crazy! … Pulled its face right off! … Hold still or it’ll get us! the voices yammered in hysterics. The pitch was decidedly female, and though each voice was similar, they were not identical.

Um… I’m sorry? Philo offered.

At the sound of his voice the balled up serpent clenched tighter. "It hears us! … Go take a look. … Why don’t you do it? … Fine, fine, I’ll do it."

The coils shifted and pulled aside, allowing a head to worm its way to the surface. It peeked up until it spotted him, then cringed and pulled back inside.

"Put your face back! Put it back!" it howled.

He scrambled to find the discarded sock, then slipped it back on.

It’s okay. It’s on, he said.

The head poked up again, squinting reluctantly at him. Satisfied, it ducked back into the tangle of coils and whispered to the other heads. The knots began to slide and loosen, organizing into a neat pile of loops circling the hatch. When it had finished getting itself sorted out, the creature sat with its heads about five feet over him, each looking down disapprovingly.

"That was not very nice," said the head in the middle.

I’m sorry. You’re the first… whatever you are I’ve ever met… as far as I know. I don’t know the protocol.

Is there ever a situation where it is okay to pull off a face without warning someone? Are you from a place full of face-puller-offers? asked the head on the right.

No, I’m not from a place full of face-puller-offers, I’m from a place called Earth, he said.

He’s another one of those two-leggers, the head on the left muttered to the others. Why are there always so many two-leggers?

Can you tell me where I am?

Wait, first you answer my questions, then I answer yours, said the middle head. That’s the way it goes.

I guess that’s fair.

How did you get here? the right head asked.

Inside this capsule, he said, stamping his foot.

Is it magic or science? the left head asked impatiently.

Science, I guess.

The heads looked at each other in disappointment. Too bad, they said in unison.

Why is that too bad? Philo asked.

Do you know any magic at all? the middle head asked.

"I don’t think so. Maybe a card trick or two."

Card trick? asked the right head, tipping to the side.

It was a joke, he said.

"No joking. This is not a joking time. This is a serious time," the left head barked.

Oh, sorry. He was beginning to dislike the left head.

The heads slithered down from the heap of coils and circled around him, inspecting him thoroughly from all sides at once. Having something so large and alien look him over should have been frightening, but mostly he felt self-conscious, as though he should have taken the time to fix his hair and straighten his jumpsuit. The heads finished their inspection, then looped around him to the front, brushing a coil lightly against his heels. The right head came nose to toe with the sock puppet on his right hand, eyeing it doubtfully.

This face isn’t a real face, it said.

No, it isn’t, he said.

Why are you wearing false faces? asked the middle head.

I was lonely and bored. I’ve been here awhile, he said.

He’s a strange one. I think we should leave him here, the left head said.

"I like him. He’s dressed up to be like us. No one else does that. They all dress like one another," said the right head.

It doesn’t matter if we like him or not. We’re supposed to bring him back. That’s our job, the middle head said.

Fine, said the left head sulkily.

The right head drifted over to the side of Philo’s head and closed one eye, looking in his ear. It then flicked a thin, serpent-like tongue inside, causing Philo and the other two heads to twitch.

Pleh. He tastes terrible, the right head said.

Why do you always taste them? asked the middle head. "We aren’t allowed to eat them."

Because she’s the stupid one, the left head jabbed.

"You’re the stupid one!" the right head retorted, darting up face-to-face with the left and baring a set of sharp triangular teeth.

The two began to bicker and butt against one another. The middle head carefully looped beneath them to look Philo in the eye.

Don’t mind them. You had questions?

Yes. Loads of them, Philo said. For one, what’s this about eating me?

She always likes to check if newcomers are good to eat, but the boss has rules about eating people. We’re not allowed to do it unless he tells us to.

I see. That’s a good policy.

Any other questions? You may as well ask. They’ll be a while, and it is hard to travel while they’re fighting.

Well, I guess I should learn your names.

I’m called Rill.

Pleased to meet you, Rill. What are their names?

Rill twisted and looked to the arguing duo, then back to him. We’re Rill.

You all have the same name?

We are all the same person.

Isn’t that a little confusing?

"It never confuses me."

I see. Well, I’m Philo. Where are we right now?

Around your metal thing, where you showed up.

Well, I know that, but I mean what is this place?

"Oh, the whole place? Different people call it different things. Most people just call it Between."

Between what?

Between here and there. Between now and then. Between everything and everything else.

What sort of place is this?

Home, for now. And since you don’t know magic, home forever.

I don’t understand.

"Neither do I. All I know is lots of people get here with science, but no one leaves with science because science doesn’t really work here except when it does. Magic works great always, though."

"Ah… Okay, so what are you exactly?"

I’m a human.

"… Are you sure about that? Because I’m pretty sure I’m a human, and you don’t look very much like me."

Oh, oh, Rill said, shaking her head. "I forgot. You’re really new. See, I’m not really talking to you right now. Not with the words you’re hearing, anyway. This place sort of pokes around in your head and finds the words that mean the same thing to you. It’s really useful because everyone can understand everyone else, but it gets tricky because sometimes words get mixed up. I said the word that means ‘the type of creature I am.’"

And in my head, ‘the type of creature I am’ is human.

Right. Let me see. I’m… I’m a… water dragon? Does that make sense?

Sounds about right.

How about hydra? Right-Rill said, growing tired of her little tiff with her sinister sister and twisting back to face him.

That certainly evokes the whole multiheaded thing, Philo agreed.

Let’s stop wasting time and get this over with, Left-Rill snapped.

The triple tail jutted out from the bottom of the mound of coils. For the first time, Philo noticed that each tail had three little claws on the end, like toes on a paw. He saw them only briefly before one of the tendrils wrapped around his ankle and yanked him upside down.

Whoa, hey! Take it easy! Philo objected.

"Well… Technically we don’t have to take it easy," Right-Rill explained apologetically.

The boss only pays us to make sure we get the newcomers back to Shard alive, Rill added.

"And it is really hard to kill things here, Left-Rill said. Watch!"

With a flick, the incredibly strong tail gripping his ankle whipped him up and made ready to smash him against the capsule. He didn’t have time to object, only managing to release a startled yelp. An instant before he would have struck, a second one of the tails wrapped around his hand and yanked in the other direction, pulling him taut like a guitar string.

Wait! I think we should be nice to him, Right-Rill said.

I agree with her! Philo said desperately.

Why should we? Left-Rill asked. As she spoke, the tail around his leg tugged.

The wrist tail tugged back. Because he didn’t try to kill us. Most of the science types do, said Right-Rill.

The ankle tail tugged again. He pulled his face off right in front of us.

The wrist tail tugged again. But he put it back when we asked.

Please stop pulling, Philo said.

The ankle tail tugged. That’s probably just because he’s afraid of us.

Please stop pulling, Philo groaned.

The wrist tail tugged. He would have run away if he was afraid of us!

PLEASE STOP PULLING! Philo cried.

The ankle tail tugged. Where would he run to?

Enough, Rill said. The third tail wove up to his neck, where the three clawlike fingers clicked open and gripped his collar. "We should be nice."

Left-Rill sneered and the ankle tail loosened. Right-Rill stuck her tongue out at Left-Rill and released her tail. The remaining tail lowered Philo to the surface of the capsule again.

"Why?" Left-Rill said.

"Because no one likes us back at Shard. Maybe if we’re nice to him, he’ll be nice to us," Rill said.

"I totally will be nice to you, Philo said. We’ll be best friends."

Yay! Right-Rill said.

"And what good will that do? He’s a science type. He’s worthless!" Left-Rill countered.

No, no. I can do this, Philo said, adopting the Bosco voice and working the puppet’s mouth. ’ello! I’m Bosco.

Right-Rill looked utterly delighted. "It talks! It is a real face!"

All three heads looked to the other sock puppet expectantly. What about you? they asked in unison.

Er… Hello? Deirdre said.

You said you didn’t know magic, Left-Rill said, awe in her expression.

"Well, you know. I know some stuff," he said.

"Well okay, we’ll treat you nice. But don’t forget we did," Left-Rill said, darting her head to his and angling it down to look him as closely in the eyes as possible.

This close, he noticed that unlike her sisters, Left-Rill’s head frills were a bit tattered and frayed, and the otherwise immaculate lavender hide was marred by faint pink scars. He swallowed hard and nodded.

We should take his metal thing, too. The boss likes metal things, Right-Rill said.

"The boss likes anything new," Rill agreed.

Fine, fine. Let’s go then, Left-Rill said.

Rill uncoiled like a spring, launching herself upward and shoving the capsule downward. The deceiving speed of the motion was enough to literally yank the ground out from beneath Philo, leaving him floundering above the capsule, slowly drifting toward it. Rill circled around Right-Rill, nipping him by the collar and dragging him along while each of the three tails coiled around a separate rung of the ladder he’d climbed to escape.

The serpent came to a near stop when her body ran out of slack, and she began to twist and undulate madly, trying to get the massive capsule up to speed.

Are you sure you’re going to be able to move it? Philo asked.

We’re… unf… very strong, Rill assured him, grunting lightly with the effort.

Right-Rill nodded vigorously, shaking Philo as she did. She handed him off to Rill and added, We really are! This isn’t even the biggest thing we’ve fetched. There was a big boat once.

Full of two-leggers like you. With cannons… Left-Rill growled, looking scornfully at Philo as though he’d been the one lighting the fuses.

"It took forever to get that moving," Right-Rill said.

It took longer to clear it out… Left-Rill said darkly.

But once something is moving, it’s easy to get it where we need it, Right-Rill continued.

Now, when you say ‘clear it out’… Philo said.

Right-Rill ignored him. She seemed beside herself, in the figurative sense in addition to the literal one, that she had someone to tell her stories to. I think that boat was from Earth, too. You said you were from Earth right? We fetch a lot of boats from Earth. And other things. It has something to do with a triangle.

A triangle… Wait, you mean the Bermuda Triangle? Philo said.

Rill, still holding Philo’s collar in her teeth, nodded in agreement, shaking him up and down.

Do you know it? Right-Rill asked. Is it nice? What does it look like?

It’s just a big chunk of ocean between some islands. What did you mean by ‘clear it out’ again? Philo pressed.

All three heads closed their eyes and hummed happily for a moment. The ocean, they said, causing Philo to slip free. Right-Rill quickly snagged him as Rill took her turn speaking.

"I remember the ocean. Not your ocean. Our ocean, she said, her eyes distant. So much more color there. So many more humans. She caught herself. Sorry, water dragons."

Er, hrrrdrrrrs, Right-Rill mumbled through clenched teeth.

Yes, or hydras.

Are there not many hydras here? Philo asked.

We’re the only one, Rill said. Fortunately, a hydra can’t get lonely. There are always two people to talk to.

It would be nice to have someone who didn’t run away every time we showed up, though, Left-Rill said.

I guess most people think you’re a pretty scary monster, Philo said.

That’s not the problem, Rill said. There’re all sorts of scary monsters in Shard. People just don’t like us because of our job.

Everybody hates fetchers, Left-Rill said.

Does it have anything to do with that ‘clear it out’ thing? Because I’m very curious about that, Philo said.

Look. Sometimes the boss wants the boat and not the people on it, Left-Rill said.

"And what do you do exactly?"

Left-Rill twisted to face him, glaring hard and subtly flashing her teeth. How bad do you want to know?

My curiosity on the matter has vanished, Philo said, his expression held carefully still. But what exactly is a fetcher?

Right-Rill abruptly handed him off to Rill. "I’ll tell him! See, people pop into and out of Between all the time. No one ever shows up anywhere near Shard, or any of the places here that are actual places besides Heartcore, and most of them pop out right away. When they don’t pop out, then it usually means they don’t know how, which means they’ll be here for good. When that happens we know about it because there are a few people who can sense it. Those are called ‘spotters.’ Once the