Well, then, O’Neill thought. Now would be a really good time to get the heck out of here.
By the time he finished that thought, O’Neill, who was practical, was halfway down the hallway. He could see an exit in front of him, but he was pretty sure his pursuers would expect him to use it. He decided to take the other exit.
As he rounded the corner, he heard a shout of “after him!” and the footsteps of a couple people running down the hallway, distinctly faster than him. Fortunately, he had a significant head start, and would most likely make it to the door he was thinking of in time. He could already see the door.
The sound of footsteps was becoming a lot louder. As he looked behind him, O’Neill saw two pursuers, both male, large, muscular, and imposing. They looked as if they would have no trouble overpowering a small army, much less O’Neill. He cursed his luck, as he was counting on not having anyone discover which exit he was using.
At least he would be able to escape. After a smirk at the men chasing him, still a significant distance away, he threw open the door to freedom, or at least a close analogue.
—
Falls yawned and looked around the room, before discovering for the sixteenth time that there was no clock in the room. Either way, he was sure Veril had been talking for the last five hours, at the very least.
He looked at the others. Topp was looking around for something to do; Olson was staring at the table intently. Even Meinke was glancing around nervously.
Veril took no notice, though. He had begun speaking of Stevis Rutus, a great king. If Falls had known that Stevis was the current king, he might have known that Veril was almost done.
But he hadn’t, and he was so surprised to hear “And that’s the history of Centros Middlefort” from Veril that he was unable to think of a witty comeback before Meinke asked, “What do we do now?”
The word now seemed to remind Veril of something. “Oh, dear, look at the time!”
“That would require a clock or a similar timekeeping device,” Falls mumbled under his breath.
“We were supposed to meet Stevis Rutus five minutes ago,” Veril continued, walking briskly to the door. “Follow me.” Falls considered asking Veril about the aforementioned timekeeping device, but decided against it.
—
O’Neill gaped at the great hall before him. He had expected the exit to be here; he certainly had no recollection of such a hall at Central Middle School. Then again, it was silly for him to expect Centros Middlefort to be exactly the same.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. He dived behind a large pillar just as he heard the sound of a door opening. He looked back at the one he came through. It was closed.
That’s strange, he thought. He turned around, and found himself face-to-face with Laras.
Laras raised an eyebrow. “O’Neill, I presume? One of the five people who mysteriously showed up at Centros?”
“Look, I can explain—” O’Neill began. In reality, he couldn’t think of any way to explain why he was being pursued by people who were most likely the King’s guards, but he wasn’t about to let the strange man know that particular fact.
“How you showed up? You can tell me later,” Laras interrupted.
“No, I mean—”
“You’re not really O’Neill?” Laras interrupted again.
“No, I am!” O’Neill said. On second thought, he probably should have taken the opportunity to pretend to be Falls.
“Well, in that case, whatever you want to explain, it isn’t important. I’ll tell you something that is important: One of you people who mysteriously showed up is going to kill us all. Well, at least that’s what Arath thinks, and whatever Arath thinks, King Stevis thinks. Now, before the whole situation descends into chaos, I want you to follow me.”
“But…” O’Neill started to protest. He then realized Laras had no idea Arath had declared him the one prophesied to kill everyone. He fell silent, and followed Laras down the hall.
—
“Stevis! What a pleasure it is to meet you!” called Veril, who had now led the group of Meinke, Falls, Topp, and Olson to Stevis’s throne room.
Stevis sighed. “Times are tough. We found the man Arath prophesied would kill everyone. He’s being chased as we speak.”
The group looked at each other. None of them had heard about any prophecy of killing anyone.
“Wait, we know which one of them it is?” Veril asked, evidently as confused as they were.
“Yes,” Stevis said. “Take the others away; we don’t need them right now.”
Veril sighed. “Follow me,” he said to the group once again.
—
This is going to be difficult… O’Neill thought.
“Laras, this person is the one Arath said would kill us all!” shouted one of the two men in front of O’Neill and Laras. They had met them on the way to… wherever Laras was leading O’Neill.
“Now is not the time for wild speculation, Samuel,” Laras sternly admonished.
“This isn’t wild speculation!” the man next to Samuel cried. “Arath himself said it was he, and King Stevis Rutus ordered us to sieze him!”
“And I suppose I should believe you when, for all that I know, you could be the one prophesied to kill us all?”
Samuel, who was not used to being disagreed with, did not notice the minor technicality that the person prophesied to destroy Centros and its surrounding Smallforts belonged to the group of people who had mysteriously arrived that day, and he did not.
Laras brushed past Samuel and the other guard. O’Neill followed, wondering how he just managed to escape two people with orders to seize him after meeting them face-to-face.
—
“I assume this is not going as planned?” Falls asked.
“No,” Veril replied. He did not elaborate.
Soon, Veril stopped at a hallway. “Here you are,” he said. “You will live here until we have the situation under control. Your sleeping quarters are down that hallway and to the left; now would be a good time to get yourselves comfortable.” He left immediately.
“Well,” Meinke said, “that was abrupt.”
—
“Here we are,” Laras said.
He and O’Neill were in a room with many vials and beakers filled with strangely colored liquids, and other, more unrecognizable objects.
“I believe I should teach you the basics of defending yourself from the person prophesied to kill everyone.”
O’Neill wondered how that would happen. Laras seemed to be taking this prophecy quite lightly, although, he was reasonably sure that Laras did believe it.
—
Falls opened a door in the area where Veril had left him. He found a room with a desk, a few chairs, a few bookshelves, and Arath, lounging around a door on the opposite end of the room.
“Who are you?” Falls asked.
“I am Arath. I understand that you are Falls; am I correct?”
“I’m usually just referred to as Mr. Falls, but yes.”
“We don’t use titles to describe people in Centros, Falls.” Falls seemed to remember hearing Veril say “King Stevis Rutus” without any reaction from the locals, but he didn’t say anything about it. “I understand you are a science teacher where you are from; am I correct?” Arath continued.
“Yes.” Falls decided not to ask how he knew.
“What are your religious beliefs?” Arath said.
Falls raised an eyebrow. “As a scientist, I believe in no supernatural being. One could say I believe in nothing but the four fundamental forces—gravity, electromagnetic force, and the two nuclear forces.”
Arath appeared to be amused. “The four Forces? Your world has four Forces? It is as I suspected.”
Falls still had his eyebrow raised. “What, pray tell, did you suspect?”
“Your world lacks several fundamental forces. If you were to look outside, for instance, you would be amazed by what you see,” he said, gesturing.