Today’s Word: Enamored
Linus bent and retrieved the six pence from the cave floor. He slipped them into his pocket.
"We're coming to a crux, you and I," said Linus.
"In more ways than even we realize, I'm certain."
Linus continued facing away from Horner. His arms hung loosely, but Horner could see that the right was very near his coat pocket.
"I'm going to get in that machine," said Linus.
"Why? What do you know that I don't?" Linus finally turned to face his alter-self.
"I know that you – that we are the first Empyrean Minister." The memory seemed to come with the words, the way happy feelings sometimes come with a smile; not before, not after, but with. "I never traveled back. I –"
" – lived on."
A wave of nausea took them both. Linus weathered the bout easily, only uttering a small grunt as his hand moved to his stomach. Horner doubled over and nearly vomited. He held his breath and swallowed as his own stomach cramped hard enough to make his eyes water.
When he could open his mouth again he said, "Time brought us here. We're chasing the same prey from opposite ends of a field. You see it springing towards you; I see it leaping away."
"We are Linus Turring. The Linus Turring. Can that be so bad?"
"What of the wars, the ethnic cleansing?" asked Horner.
"Necessary. Completely necessary for society's forward progression."
He was YOUTH. Horner could see that now. Linus was the product of a society so enamored with its own prowess it couldn't look upon itself with any true insight. His entire life he had been told he was the best, the brightest, and all those different from himself were worthless.
YOUTH was worse than brain flush. It was brain fix.
To be continued