In non-abstract terms, what the principle meant to Darkness in the real world was a glitch in the translation process that resulted in his body being permanently tachyonized. He became "the man who was faster than light." He could travel from his secret laboratory headquarters somewhere in the far reaches of the universe to Earth or anywhere else in the blink
of an eye- much quicker, actually-but once he had arrived, he was incapable of normal movement, appearing much like a holographic projection or a ghost seen underwater, frozen in time, trapped by the immutable laws of the universe.
Unlike a holographic projection, he was not insubstantial, although being faster than light, he could be if he wanted to. However, like a holographic projection, he could not move so much as one step. At least, not normally. He needed to project himself from one place to another. "Taching," as he called it. His atomic structure had become unstable. His tachyonization had rendered him immune to ageing or disease. No bacteria could latch onto him because they simply were not fast enough. In a sense, Darkness had become immortal, yet due to the increasingly unstable nature of his atomic structure, he knew a time would one day come when his body would literally discorporate, departing at multiples of light speed in all directions of the universe.
It seemed incredible to Lucas that anyone could maintain even a semblance of sanity under such conditions; yet on the surface, Darkness was completely lucid, brilliant, and controlled.. albeit in a thoroughly skewed manner. He was a driven man, obsessed, not knowing how much time he had before he flew apart in all directions. It could be centuries or it could be only seconds and he did not want to leave his work undone. And that was where Lucas had come in.
During their mission to destroy Nikolai Drakov's pirate submarine, The Nautilus, Darkness had "'terminaled" Lucas with a tachyon symbiotracer that bonded to certain protein molecules in the cells of his nervous system. The device, which operated on the particle level, represented a technology which Darkness had pioneered and which only he fully understood. The purpose of the symbiotracer was to allow Darkness to "'home in" on Lucas no matter where he was in space and time. However, unknown to Lucas, the symbiotracer had built into it a prototype of the particle-level chronocircuitry that Darkness was experimenting with-essentially, a particle-level warp disc, organic and completely thought controlled.
The device had become a permanent part of Lucas Priest's atomic structure. He could no more get rid of it than he could get a body transplant. When the symbiotracer had first been given to him in the medium of a graft patch from a medikit. He had believed that minor surgery would be able to remove it. He had never suspected that the device would fuse with his very atoms. He was even more dismayed when he realised that the symbiotracer function was only part of what
Darkness had designed the chronocircuitry to do. But by the time he knew that, he had already died.
At least, he had been meant to die. And in some parallel timeframe that wound its way about him like a double helix strand of DNA, Lucas thought he must have realised that fate and had, in fact, died. He did not remember dying, of course, because — that event had been in his future, relative to the moment in which
Darkness had snatched him away, and that future had been changed. His death was now an irrevocable fact of Finn and Andre's past, yet it was only an alternate future for himself, a potential future he had bypassed., It happened… and it didn't happen.
It was the sort of Zen koan puzzle that was taught in advanced temporal physics classes, a hypothetical set of temporal conditions that Zen physics professors referred to as "problem modules," situations that were mind-boggling, defying any application of conventional science or logic, capable of inducing nervous breakdowns in even the most gifted students who attempted to relate them to conventional reality or solve them with conventional reasoning. Only this was not a classroom problem module. This was real.
Ever since he had learned what happened, Lucas had been trying desperately to figure it all out, to assess the implications, both for himself and for the timeline. It was driving him to the brink of a nervous collapse. And he knew that now, of all times, he had to keep his cool, his mental discipline focused, and yet it was impossible. Thanks to Dr. Darkness filling in the blanks for him, he knew what the original scenario had been, before Dr. Darkness had effected his unique temporal adjustment. It was, of course, a scenario that Lucas had never personally experienced-not from where he stood right now. He remembered only part of it.
But from the vantage point of another time frame, he had experienced it. And it had killed him.
The tribesmen still trapped in the pass were run down and trampled by the lancers as they thundered through. Then the cavalry formed a line upon the plain and charged the fleeing enemy. There was no escape. The Ghazis died in the rice fields, run through by the lances and struck down by the cavalry sabres. Bodies fell everywhere as the lancers descended on the fleeing Ghazis and butchered them.
"Christ," said Hugo, turning away from the carnage down below. "I'm sorry, General, but that's more than J can stand to watch. I've seen enough of death."
Churchill was riveted by the spectacle. "They shall not forget this," he said. "it's probably the first time any of them have seen what cavalry can do, given room to deploy their strength. Henceforth, the very words, 'Bengal lancers' shall strike terror into their hearts."
As he spoke, a lone Ghazi sniper, who had remained undiscovered, hidden behind the rocks of his crumbled sangar, rose to a kneeling position and brought his jezail rifle to bear upon the surgeon. Hugo, whom he mistakenly took 10 be the commander of the British forces. As he raised his rifle, Lucas spotted him.
Re yelled, "Hugo. Look out!" instinctively, after so much time spent under enemy fire,
Hugo reacted by throwing himself down flat upon the ground. In an instant, Lucas saw that Hugo's combat-quick response had placed Churchill directly in the line of fire. In an instant of white hot, adrenaline charged clarity, he saw it all and made a running dive for Churchill — and landed on a hand woven carpet of Chinese silk.
For a moment, he lay stunned, unable to move. All he could see were the colours of the carpet, brilliant red, metallic gold and indigo a richly complex pattern, figured with dragons and stylised lions. Slowly, he pushed himself up and looked around..
He was in a large, circular room with a domed, observatory ceiling. The most dominant object in the room was a huge radio telescope. All around him were banks of computers and other electronic instruments he could not identify, with rows upon rows of blinking lights and dials and digital and video displays.
Laboratory equipment vied for space with exquisite Victorian antiques and bronze sculptures and impressionistic oil paintings. Books were everywhere, crammed to overflowing in tall bookcases, stacked upon tables and piled high upon the floor. As Lucas slowly stood, he turned and saw a huge, curved bay window behind him. The landscape outside was rocky and desolate. And red-orange. The vermilion sands stretched out for as far as the eye could see, nothing but an unbroken vista of rock-strewn, reddish-orange desert. And there were three moons in the sky.
"What the hell?" said Lucas.
"It does rather look like hell, doesn't it?" said a deep, vaguely continental voice from behind him.