“Well what the hell am I supposed to know about dimensions? I am a galactic historian. I know the cultures of alien worlds and their histories, nothing more, especially nothing to do with dimensions.”
“There must be a connection somewhere Mr Elliot.”
“Please just call me James.”
“And you can call me Weasties.”
“Look now the pleasantries are out of the way I suggest we leave Earth and head towards Andromeda,” said Lord Jack.
“Andromeda, the galaxy?” asked James.
“Yes the bloody galaxy,” barked Lord James. “The central council is there, and we can visit Sacria, I am sure that is where we need to start.”
“Before we do anything I want to see this mail you received. I want to know that this is all for real.”
Lord Jack rushed his hand towards a wall and a giant screen flashed into view. The message was in two parts, first written, then a short video clip.
The message read.
You are Lord Jackson Elliot, explorer, and adventurer. You have been looking for the Diad Gloxal, on the world of Sacria, I believe you have found this and I believe you can use this device for time travel to other dimensions. I know this and now I am telling you this. I also know your son James Elliot, the prominent Galactic Historian secretly tries to harness Neutronic Energy, advancing the chances of travelling to far off galaxies. I believe that if you combine your Diad Gloxal and your sons Neutronic Energy you will find the answer to dimensional time travel. I know this to be true. You may ask why I do not just capture you Lord Jack, and your son, and force you to create the device. I am aware that this is impossible, there are many sequences to be competed and I do not have the time or the patience to do them myself. I have a criminal empire to run. You will do my donkeywork and I will keep your family as insurance. I know it is possible, I know you are capable of completing the task, and if I am wrong, well, I will not suffer.
To make sure you both work as hard as possible to discover the incredible device, I have taken your whole family. I will not name names, but I have added a short video clip of all of them so you are definitely certain I am serious and not deceiving you. The video clips will show you how serious and determined I am for you to succeed. If you succeed, your family will be set free.
I expect results, from you both. If you do not comply, I will torture, then kill each one of your kin one by one, without any remorse or feeling of guilt. It will be a pleasure to rape and defile them all; I will make sure they suffer immeasurable pain and agony over a sustained period. This period will start after 50 stellar days from today. I believe this is sufficient time to work out dimensional time travel.
You may think this is a hoax, but once you have seen the video clip you will not think so. My name is Dor Lor Mada, I am the leader of the Pravai Dorka, and my group and I reside on Hadronia. I have no qualms in telling you this, since you have no chance of ever setting foot on this planet. If you do try to rescue your family, in some vain attempt, using your vast wealth Lord Jack, pain and extreme misery will be the only conclusion to this deal and you and all your family will die. You know the secret, even if you are unaware at this time, your son knows the secret and I believe the Mesanic creature Weasties with his amazing powers will be able to, how can I put it, extract it out of your minds. 50 stellar days, then the torture begins. Watch the video now, to know how serious I am.
D L M Pra Dor - Leader
“Well,” said James put the bloody video on.”
“No James, you do not want to see it.”
James became frightened, fear rose through him like a raging river after a torrential storm. He was shaking.
“Put the fucking video on you bastard!” he demanded.
Weasties looked at Lord Jack. Lord Jack flashed his arm towards the screen and it changed from the mail, to an image. It was an image of many people; many small boxes covered the screen. James looked in horror as he noticed first his two sons Harry and Mark, then his wife Selena. Everyone in the boxes looked terrified.
“Click on my wife please, I want to see she is alright.”
“No James, chose another square if you really want to see this.”
James sank, and terror griped him, something unforgettable was waiting once one of the small boxes was touched. Dare he touch one, dare he find out what the evil Pravai Dorka may have done to his family. He now felt for the first time a kind of uncomfortable embarrassment, perhaps even pity towards his father. He realised even before he touched one of the screen boxes that he must have seen all of them.
“Chose one for Christ’s sake and get this over with.”
There were 34 boxes to choose from; luckily, his mother was not alive to go through this agony. However, James recognised Jack’s second wife Larul, she was in her sixties and seemed to be the calmest out of all the kidnap victims. James did not want to choose, he felt he could not choose. Whatever heinous crime, whatever cruel aspiration, the significance of the boxes was to show he did not want to see, but he knew he must see, he had to know what was there and this terrible decision was too much to bear. Weasties realised this, held out a hand, and chose a box.
A middle-aged woman tied to a chair in a dilapidated room, terror on her face. It was Jack’s fourth wife Alisia, and the most beautiful of his wives, she was an ex model and only in her early forties. A huge man entered the room, went over and untied one hand, her left hand. The camera zoomed in towards Alisia; her eyes were bulging out of her face in absolute fear and dread. She still had a gag in her mouth, black mascara covered her upper face and around her eyes from obvious crying. Her face reddened from severe blows; blood stained forehead and dried blood in her dyed blonde hair. The huge beast of a man turned around and spoke slowly with a synthesised voice.
“This is your forth wife Alisia, nod if this is correct.”
The terrified woman nodded quickly, short jerky nods of fear and despair.
The man turned around and showed he was wearing a mask with a skull with blood red eyes on the front. He stared into the camera.
“This is for your encouragement. 50 days, remember.”
Then the huge masked man grabbed Alisia’s hand drew out a long blade and cut off her little finger. It was a quick swipe and the finger dropped to the ground. Alisia began to scream and flail around in agony. Then video stopped.
James sat in his chair frozen, unable to move, staring at the screen, seeing the other boxes, seeing his children, his wife, the other children, one only looked about six years old. He then bent over and vomited into a wastebasket. He fell to the floor weeping; the empathy violently connecting him with the dreadful act was so extremely intense to make him inconsolable for a few moments. Weasties then used his immense powers of psychological control to bring him back to some kind of normality. However even with Weasties help, James was like a useless vegetable, stunned into a comatosed state. He lay on the floor, he did not see anyone, he did not want think of the pain and considerable agony his family were suffering. Moreover, he knew it was his fault; he had been trying to harness Neutronic Energy, now his sideline hobby was going to get his family tortured and eventually murdered.
Suddenly as if a blazing light had opened his mind he realised he must know the answer, and so he would do everything in his power to work out dimensional time travel. Working with his estranged father, and the unusual Mesanic Weasties, they would figure this out and he would now use it to wreck revenge on this Pravai Dorka.
He stood up and looked at both.
“I presume,” he said trying desperately to control his emotions, “I presume this happens in every clip?”
“It saddens me to say it son, but yes it does,” said Lord Jack, bowing his head down.
For the first time, James actually saw emotion on his father’s face.
“So where is this Diad Gloxal, that fucker thinks you have.”
“I don’t have it. We could not find it. Still we think it is on Sacria, in the foothills near an ancient temple.”
“Ah you mean Destroia Collatius.”
“Yes the temple of death.”
James knew Weasties was keeping him calm and focused, and he did not mind this, if keeping Weasties did nothing else on this quest, this journey into the unknown, than keeping James focused, then he was a worthy companion. He just worried how well he would get on with his fucking father.
“So how do we get to Sacria? And when do we leave?”