couldn't help but make the observation I mentioned earlier, that even this many people were the merest drop in the ocean when one considered the population as a whole.
"I know, I know," Forset agreed. "It's foolish and selfish of me. I've been imagining this moment for most of my life, the fact that it isn't how I imagined it is hardly a surprise, it's just going to take me a while to get used to it that's all."
7.
W E WAITED TOGETHER for another twenty minutes or so, until, finally, there was sign of life once more from within Wormwood.
That bright light that had acted as a theatrical cue for the enigmatic Alonzo pulsed from deep within the buildings. From this slight distance it looked like the detonation of an explosive charge.
The crowds had dissipated slightly, like our party they had separated out into their little groups to discuss and moan about the unforeseen state of affairs. Now they consolidated once more, swelling towards the borders of the town.
Alonzo's voice carried through the still, afternoon air, clear even at the back of the crowd. "Thank you for your patience," he said, "it is with pleasure that we welcome the first of you to pass beyond the gate and into what lies beyond. Before you travel I must try and prepare you for what you are about to experience. It is a mistake to view the existence beyond this as a singular, definitive space. It can be that but it is also much more. At its most extreme, it is a subjective environment, a place coloured by the soul of the one who enters. I cannot, therefore promise that all who enter will be glad they did so. We will talk again soon."
The mood of the crowd changed again, from impatience to fear. Not that it did anyone the least bit of good. No puppet-master allows his creations choice after all.
The entrance to Wormwood was not to be taken on foot. One moment I was stood there in the real world and the next...
I was somewhere else entirely.
Interlude One
HATRED OF GOD
1.
T HE RESPONSE FROM the crowd was predictably slow. Everyone was busy staring at Wormwood, groups breaking up, people jumbled in the crowds like several packs of playing cards cast into the air and then left to scatter. Eventually, enough people had begun looking around, trying to friend friends and family who were no longer there, that the penny dropped.
"They've just vanished," said Billy, looking to Forset and his daughter, "including Pat rick... just lifted out of the air and pulled into the town."
"I'm sure they're alright," said Elisabeth, "nothing bad can have happened to them."
"You know that do you? I don't have the same faith in that place as you."
She took his arm. "I'm not sure I have any faith in it at all, but panicking isn't going to help."
He nodded. All around them people were talking, shouting, praying. Some treating it as a glorious miracle, others as a heart-breaking slur. Billy noted the Order of Ruth, moving in a solemn pro cession towards them.
"Well," he said, "of all the people I would have expected to have been amongst the first called."
Father Martin offered a rather insipid smile. "Perhaps we can do more good out here than we can there. God has a plan for us I'm sure."
"For all of us perhaps."
"Certainly."
Father Martin took this as affirmation, but Elisabeth was aware Billy hadn't meant it as such. "And how are you Father?" she asked, shifting the subject slightly, "it must be a wonderful feeling to be so close to God?"
"We are always close," he replied, taking her hand, "he lives in everything and everyone.
Though I'll admit it does my spirits good to see so many uplifted by the miracles we have witnessed."
"Uplifted?" asked Billy, "personally I just feel scared."
"I'm sure there's no need for fear," the monk replied, "it can be difficult to let go of what we have always believed—the rules of science, the firm earth beneath our feet—but this is the work of God and God is good."
"Well, that's as may be, but I still don't like not knowing
"I know, I know," Forset agreed. "It's foolish and selfish of me. I've been imagining this moment for most of my life, the fact that it isn't how I imagined it is hardly a surprise, it's just going to take me a while to get used to it that's all."
7.
W E WAITED TOGETHER for another twenty minutes or so, until, finally, there was sign of life once more from within Wormwood.
That bright light that had acted as a theatrical cue for the enigmatic Alonzo pulsed from deep within the buildings. From this slight distance it looked like the detonation of an explosive charge.
The crowds had dissipated slightly, like our party they had separated out into their little groups to discuss and moan about the unforeseen state of affairs. Now they consolidated once more, swelling towards the borders of the town.
Alonzo's voice carried through the still, afternoon air, clear even at the back of the crowd. "Thank you for your patience," he said, "it is with pleasure that we welcome the first of you to pass beyond the gate and into what lies beyond. Before you travel I must try and prepare you for what you are about to experience. It is a mistake to view the existence beyond this as a singular, definitive space. It can be that but it is also much more. At its most extreme, it is a subjective environment, a place coloured by the soul of the one who enters. I cannot, therefore promise that all who enter will be glad they did so. We will talk again soon."
The mood of the crowd changed again, from impatience to fear. Not that it did anyone the least bit of good. No puppet-master allows his creations choice after all.
The entrance to Wormwood was not to be taken on foot. One moment I was stood there in the real world and the next...
I was somewhere else entirely.
Interlude One
HATRED OF GOD
1.
T HE RESPONSE FROM the crowd was predictably slow. Everyone was busy staring at Wormwood, groups breaking up, people jumbled in the crowds like several packs of playing cards cast into the air and then left to scatter. Eventually, enough people had begun looking around, trying to friend friends and family who were no longer there, that the penny dropped.
"They've just vanished," said Billy, looking to Forset and his daughter, "including Pat rick... just lifted out of the air and pulled into the town."
"I'm sure they're alright," said Elisabeth, "nothing bad can have happened to them."
"You know that do you? I don't have the same faith in that place as you."
She took his arm. "I'm not sure I have any faith in it at all, but panicking isn't going to help."
He nodded. All around them people were talking, shouting, praying. Some treating it as a glorious miracle, others as a heart-breaking slur. Billy noted the Order of Ruth, moving in a solemn pro cession towards them.
"Well," he said, "of all the people I would have expected to have been amongst the first called."
Father Martin offered a rather insipid smile. "Perhaps we can do more good out here than we can there. God has a plan for us I'm sure."
"For all of us perhaps."
"Certainly."
Father Martin took this as affirmation, but Elisabeth was aware Billy hadn't meant it as such. "And how are you Father?" she asked, shifting the subject slightly, "it must be a wonderful feeling to be so close to God?"
"We are always close," he replied, taking her hand, "he lives in everything and everyone.
Though I'll admit it does my spirits good to see so many uplifted by the miracles we have witnessed."
"Uplifted?" asked Billy, "personally I just feel scared."
"I'm sure there's no need for fear," the monk replied, "it can be difficult to let go of what we have always believed—the rules of science, the firm earth beneath our feet—but this is the work of God and God is good."
"Well, that's as may be, but I still don't like not knowing
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