The Psychic Box Part 2

“Wake up, descendant, my makers are proud.”

I slowly regained consciousness. I was cold, one side of me was freezing, the other half was just barely warmed by a fire. A fire that I soon realized was coming from the plane. I felt no pain, even though falling out of fast falling planes tends to break a few things. I was fine. “How am I alive?”

“Limbo.” I still haven’t gotten used to having a voice in my head, and having it say things I don’t understand certainly wasn’t helping.


“The following is unverified, but will give you an idea of what it is. My makers believed Limbo to be an inter-dimensional space. In their time, the Earth was in convulsions, destroying their civilization. In an attempt to survive this end, they created me to find a way to pull people out of Limbo and then they put themselves into it.”

“So you’re supposed to save these people from the end of the world?”

“If I want, but perhaps I shouldn’t. Perhaps they are better off frozen in time. Besides, the end that they faced will soon occur to you descendants as well.”

“So how did I survive that crash?” I asked as I crawled towards the fire to warm myself.

“I brought you into Limbo, where your velocity had no meaning, then brought you back into this world.”

“What about conservation of energy? Where did my kinetic energy go?”

“It was added to the surrounding objects, and since the plane was already traveling fairly fast, it had little effect.”

I hadn’t seen the box since I awoke, and thought it odd that it wasn’t floating around my head like a buzzard. “Where are you?”

“In the ground somewhere, I think.”

“In the ground?”

“I wasn’t paying attention to where I ended up. I would think you would be glad I made sure you landed fairly close to the ground.”

“OK… Where are we, then?”

“On a mountain just north of a Canadian town. Montreal, I believe.”

I heard a helicopter coming. It was flashing its light around the wreckage of the plane. “How did I survive?”

“I told you.”

“Yeah, but what am supposed to tell them? That an ancient, high-tech, psychic box put me into another dimension while the plane crashed?”

“If you’re so concerned about it, we could leave.”

“Where would we go?”

“Wherever we want. You’re a dead man and I’m a ‘floating box’. Not much holding us down. However, I think we ought to head to Chicago, since that’s where we were headed anyway. I wouldn’t mind some company, or more, I can’t transport myself without taking someone with me, and you’re convenient.”

“I’m touched, but sure.”

“Very well. Into Limbo,” darkness, “And into Chicago.”

“This can’t be right.” Instead of the Chicago I knew, it was a town of broken buildings and sideways skyscrapers.


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