Trask knew the truth of it: that he was NOWHERE. But that it was also the place where Every-Where and -When had had their beginning. The birthplace of universes! The womb of worlds! The singularity before time began!
He might have shouted his alarm, his shock, his own version of 'Eureka!' except Trask was only one discoverer, not the discoverer. But he believed he knew now what men meant when they said they'd 'seen the light'. For he had seen the darkness.
And in that darkness, suddenly, he was afraid. His grip was tight and growing tighter on Nathan's unseen arm. Unseen, yes, yet remembered on the photographic negative of his retinae like a slowly fading flash of light. Nathan, his
sole remaining link with Sanity, Reality, Humanity. Trask couldn't actually see him, but he could feel and sense him there. He knew the truth of the other. And for the moment that was all he knew in this awesome no-space-time.
Exhausted of mundane thoughts (or thoughts that made sense in a nonsense or extramundane environment), Trask's fear rapidly expanded into a kind of hysteria, but one which lacked the frantic motion of commonplace panic. He simply dared not move, because he couldn't be sure where motion - even the smallest motion - would take him. Moving .. . from here one might go anywhere if one knew the route, or go nowhere forever. Which might well be Trask's fate if Nathan deserted him. And to be lost here would mean lost forever; for in this timeless, spaceless non-environment nothing ever changed except it was willed, and there was no will here unless it were brought here by someone who strayed into this place, or someone who came here and knew how to manipulate it. Someone like Nathan.
And at that a new thought occurred to Trask, or new to him at least:
Nathan, we shouldn't be here. It isn't our place. Rather, it isn't mine. His mental whisper was frightened, which Nathan sensed at once.
Easy. His own thoughts were calm, controlled. Take it easy. Weren't you the one who wanted to do it? Well, and now you're doing it.
But I'm not meant to be. I shouldn't be here.
Are you sure of that?
Trask wondered about that. Was he sure of it? But why wonder, when he knew the truth of it at once? Yes, I'm sure. There are forces here. It isn't such a - what, vacuum? - as you've painted it. I feel ... currents? And they're beginning to move me, trying to repulse or expel me. Trask's 'voice' was tremulous with his ever-increasing panic.
Calm down, Nathan told him again. I have you. You're safe. I've wondered about those forces you feel. You know when you're waiting at a red light? How you feel the energy in the throb of the car's engine, just waiting to thrust you forward? Well, I think this is the same thing. It's your own power you feel. It must be, because nothing happens here except by force of will.
It wasn't exactly the truth - only a guess at best - but Trask was in no fit state to repudiate it. Being here, his only desire was to be out of here. Like a small boy riding a rollercoaster. Where are we going?
In a little while, Perchorsk.
That pulled the older man together in a moment. WHAT? But he sensed Nathan's shrug.