Tearha: The Number 139

Prologue: The Watcher

"Extinction is the rule. Survival is the exception."

- Carl Edward Sagan

Red lights blared alongside the emergency sirens. Engineers in leather jackets and goggles frantically ran up and down the corridor as burst of steam shot out from the copper piping embedded in the walls. Coat wearing scientists stood at each of the valves, taking readings from the pressure meters, shouting out orders for the engineers to execute. The smell of rust was drastically enhanced by the spitting steam while the entire corridor further reeked with the stench of sweat from the working men.

A long, shining, silver pony-tailed hair trailed behind her. A sharp, golden eyed view on the front shining brighter than her tanned skin. The femme fatale, with her thigh high boots, short curving blue skirt, tight corset, and a leather jacket one size too small, walked with a wide, confidently swinging gait, not ducking when the steam pipes shot their hot vapour, nor blinking when the men around her shot her their wanting gazes.

"Lady Nora." A scientist ran up to her, brimming with nervous energy. "We weren't expecting you."

Nora Phemtelle, with a steady, monotonous voice, replied, "The Lord Light have requests of this matter to be resolved under his indirect supervision."

The scientists nodded, his ease evaporating, his shoulders tensing as his eyes widened and understood the magnitude of the situation.

Nora asked, "Where is Nadier?"

"The Wanderer? He's out on the Grassplains. We've sent word for him but even then, it will take him at least a day to reach us."

She clicked her tongue. "Walk with me," she ordered, and started forward, the nervous scientist following seven steps later. "What about The Long Arm? I was told they would be returning today."

The scientist struggled to keep up with her long stride and made sure to keep at least an arm's length away from her. "They are being held up by Adelaide Wiltkins at the southern gates," he told her. "They won't be in for another half-day."

Another tongue click. The pair turned another busy corner which led down a short hallway ending with a heavy steel door. "Damn that Demon Eyes," she said. "Always giving us trouble."

She stepped back, and like a servant, the meek scientist crossed forward. He heaved and turned the handwheel in her stead. With a loud clunk, the door swung inwards and opened. The scientist stepped aside and Nora passed him.

The portal lab was a wide, field-sized space, separated into two rooms by a large reinforced glass pane that had lines of copper wire running through the glass. The glass ran the entire 10-meter length and 20-meter height of the wall. Two pairs of scientists and engineers were working a control panel with knobs, levers, pressure gauges and valves. The control panel stretched from one end of the glass to the other but ending just short at an even larger and thicker steel door on the far right.

Nora stepped to the panel and the group stopped their work, turning their attention to her. She asked, "How long has he been in there?"

An engineer took off his goggles in graveness. "Almost a day now. We've sent the first guards in but they were nearly wiped out. Only three survivors." Beyond the glass pane, dozens of bodies were strewn across the next room, most congregated near the door in their futile attempts to escape. "If Lord Akaras isn't stopped soon, the portal will stabilize."

Nora asked, "And that's a bad thing?" At the end of the portal room, a mass of purple seither swirled around a clear, metallic bubble – housing the image of an upside-down swamp – a massive metal ring suspending it. Wires and pipes ran through the construct, sparking off arcs of electricity at sparse given moments. "Is that not what we have been trying to accomplish for the past decade? Stabilize the portal?"