Titan

Quantum Leap of Faith

Eric was in three places at once. He was lying, frozen, in a hospital bed in the present; he was looking through the eyes of his grandfather, Arthur; and he was outside of both places, disconnected, but aware of many things at once. As the disorientation of his transition into his grandfather abated, he became aware of when and where exactly he was.

***

1944, France

Some of the images and sensations that passed through his mind were relevant now. The wind, the rain, the smell, and the fear from the men around him were vivid. He experienced memories and feelings he had never made.

Eric was tethered to something big and deep. He wasn't actually in 1944 in his grandpa's body, but he wasn't exactly at home in the present either. Some intangible tendril of power transcending time and space had snatched him out of his own time and shoved him in front of a window behind his grandfather's eyes to another time.

Is it God? Why would He bring me here? Or is it "bring me now?"

Eric watched history unfold behind his grandfather's eyes and he was aware of other events, too. He didn't understand how he knew about them or how he could see them, but the best way to relate the sensation is to compare it with the wind. You can't see the wind, but you feel it. You know the currents of air are swirling around you. So it was with Eric and how he could feel the enormity of this time and place in the world.

War.

Evil was alive in the world. The Second World War unleased hell on Earth in a very real way. Advances in technology made the world a much smaller place. It made everyone that much easier to reach—to kill.

Evil always hides in the hearts of men, in the corners of their minds, and in the secret feelings they keep. But in war, good men do evil to defeat Evil. Like a snake that eats its tail, the notion defeats itself. But who among us can truly say what is good and evil in war? How can anyone who wasn't there understand the choices that had to be made? For if Evil goes unchecked and good men do nothing, then that absence of action is, in of itself, wrong.

In the gray netherworld between right and wrong, evil flourishes. In the six long years that strangled the globe in open conflict, honest, good men followed the orders of a tyrant whose only goal was conquest and annihilation. Evil isn't just in the dark shadows and the demons who hide among them, but also in men with the free will to make a choice.

War raged on both ends of the European continent, in Africa, throughout Asia, and between continents across the ocean. Blood ran in the fields, the forests, the streets, and even in people's homes. Lines of weary, unyielding patriots fell in clouds of wispy, bloody smoke. The stakes were as high as they had ever been—one of the last true, open conflicts between good and evil. Only a select few understood that was literally true.

Eric was aware of these lofty notions. Something akin to instinct or conscience descended upon his mind and the nature of good and evil debated in his head or at least in the disembodied space where his head might be. Eric knew his grandfather was not aware of these things. He knew good and evil, but Eric knew immediately, upon sharing this man's mind, that Arthur Steele was a man of loyalty, duty, and unquestioning faith. Tim had spoken of Grandpa Art and his unshakable resolve many times, but Eric never met him. To know the man all at once was wonderful and frightening.

In a small town in the French countryside, southeast of the beaches of Normandy, allied soldiers pushed against the Nazi defense as they did in so many other towns and villages. But this town had no strategic value or resources. It was simply another dot on a map on the way to Germany. If you looked at the battle lines, however, you would see a curve, a dip, where the allies and the Nazis shifted almost as if to meet there. It was almost as if they were drawn there.