The Wounded World

A Wound In The World

He wasn't sure if it was different this time, or if his eyes were changing in perception: the grass was a rainbow of greens – apple green, chartreuse, teal, forest, aquamarine, olive, moss, peacock, viridian, pine, lime, jade, malachite, beryl. He wasn't sure he had words to name all of the greens springing out at him. The browns and greys were gone too, replaced by slate, silver, russet, and stone, and bronze, chestnut, cocoa, and mahogany. It was Path, but it wasn't.

"Oh my," John said. "When did this place get painted?"

"It's beautiful!" Kate exclaimed. "Maybe the sun came out while we were gone."

"You've never seen the sun either?" Quin asked.

"Nor the stars," she replied. "No one on this planet has even seen the stars, so we can't place where we are in the universe. Once the economy stabilizes, Timothy is hoping to get a flying machine to go above the clouds and figure out where we are."

A pensive look invaded John's delight. "No one knows where this place is," he repeated.

"Nope," Kate confirmed, and stepped from the bridge.

"Wait," Quin ordered. "Be quiet." He listened. There was the wind, the rustling grass... and the river. It was running!

"The river!" he and John exclaimed at the same time. "You can hear it now."

"Oh, you're right," Kate said. "I never noticed that before."

"Something really important is happening," John said, "something that shouldn't be happening with people on the planet. Although, I could be wrong, which I am usually not, but if I am right, which I usually am, we need to do some math quickly, or else we may not have much time. This may be another Briny Creek Day or Custard's Landing or Pompeii."

"What are you talking about?" Quin said. John's babbling was usually difficult to understand, but this wasn't making any sense at all.

In reply, John took off, sprinting to the house in the distance.

"I guess we'd better keep up," Kate said, and took off after him.

Quin let them get a bit ahead, so they would all arrive at the same time, and then began to run, rapidly closing the distance between them. He passed Kate on the path, and then caught up to John as they reached the steps of the house. John was gasping for air, but didn't pause, stumbling up the front steps of the house and banging on the door.

"What's wrong?" Meriym asked, a concerned expression resting on her features. Her cheeks were a little pink, Quin noticed.

"Need... blackboard... chalk..." John gasped.

"Of course," Meriym said. "Tobias has some upstairs for doing presentations for people about preventative care. Please..."

But John had pushed past her and clambered up the rope ladder to the second floor.

"Sorry," Quin said. "He gets like that."

"Oh, it's fine! Is everything all right? Hello, Kate."

"Hey, Meriym," Kate replied, putting her bag on the floor by the door.

"Not sure," Quin said. "But if he's panicking for a blackboard enough to run, probably not. I better go keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't start writing on the walls."

Meriym laughed, and Quin climbed up the rope ladder.

The upstairs was very simple. It was one large, square room. Beds covered half of the space, but one corner had what looked like hospital beds with curtains, and the other empty corner was filled with three large chalkboards and many chairs – a classroom of sorts. John had already found chalk and was scribbling numbers and symbols across the board with both hands. Whatever it was that had him riled, it must be important.