Chapter 42: The Machine

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Chapter 42: The Machine

 As Dughall made his way back to human civilization, he was amazed at how little the humans around him saw. Macha was with him for the entire journey. Color had returned to her skin and wings, though less vibrant than it had been before their long sleep. But the humans did not gasp in awe or hazard a second look their way. Not one human that Dughall encountered inquired about his pixie companion. How is it that they cannot see this diminutive yet strong presence beside me at all times?

The more time Dughall spent among modern humans, the more he knew the answer to this perplexing observation. The humans were so busy with those things they called ‘cell phones’, with the tiny pads of letters, and looking at their small glass windows with moving pictures and words printed on them, that they did not notice much of the world around them. The modern humans constantly moved and talked. Dughall noticed that they seemed to live in a world built upon rationality and thus dismissed evidence of the magickal and mystical events and things around them at all times. Dughall doubted they would notice a fire-breathing dragon scorching their arse until it was too late.

All the better for him. A distracted mind is a mind easily fooled. He only hoped the humans at CERN were as distracted and easily befuddled as the humans he had encountered along his journey south.

Within a few weeks, Dughall hoodwinked, swindled and downright stole food, clothing, money and all that he required not only to survive, but also to fund his way to the French/Swiss border. Dughall had a sharp mind wizened by the extraordinary amount of time he had been alive. He also lacked the conscience to deflect his attention with considerations of right versus wrong. Dughall easily worked his will on anyone he encountered.

It wasn’t long until he found himself in Merino, Switzerland, site of CERN and the Large Hadron Supercollider, the LHC for short. All is working according to plan.

Between his own formidable powers of persuasion and the help of Macha’s pixie magick, Dughall easily usurped the persona and credentials of the lead scientist on one of the collider experiments. Dughall was in charge of the most powerful machine humans had ever built.

Even Dughall had to admit that the humans had achieved something quite remarkable in the creation of the LHC. The sheer size alone was commendable. There was no hint above the ground of what was happening below.

Dughall delighted in the idea of the deceptive nature of the machine. Above, farmland and rolling hills. A mile below, a machine so powerful that it would force beams of particles to travel to within a fraction of the speed of light and smash into each other in violent collisions.

The human scientists said that they wanted to look into the ‘face of God’ to see the beginning of the universe. Billions upon billions of their dollars spent to build a twenty-seven kilometer tube of superconducting magnets, some five stories tall, all for a hope to see back in time.

Dughall laughed within himself at the thought. Humans, always so preoccupied with their past and their own existence. ‘Who are we?’ What a stupid question to ask, Dughall thought.

As Dughall’s eyes swept over the computer screen in front of him full of numbers and formulas, he couldn’t help but have a smirk come over him. They are so focused on questions of their past and their existential nature, they miss out on the opportunity that lay right under their noses. If only they knew what will soon happen, he thought. So wrapped up in their computers, charts, formulas and self-importance. They may not even believe it when they see it.

As Dughall waited for the computer to catch up its calculations to where he wanted it to be, his mind wandered. Wandered as it had done so often in the thousand-plus years he spent in the Umbra Nihili. Plenty of time then, and now, to remember his own history and the reason he risked his very soul to go to the Umbra Nihili. Time to contemplate his soul’s most fervent desire.

It won’t be long now, my dearest one. Dughall recalled in an instant the suffering he had endured that brought him to that place of the deepest of human longing, a longing large enough to cause a person to commit the most despicable acts in the name of love.

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