Star_Trek_-_TNG_-_Q-Space

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Prologue

LET ME BACK IN!

In back me let !

Beyond the wall, he gibbered. Time meant nothing

to him. An instant was the same as an eternity; both

were merely subjective measures of his isolation and

his madness, which began the moment he was cast out

of creation and had been taking its toll ever since. His

exile had just begun, and it had lasted forever.

It's not fair, he thought, as he had thought since the

wall came into being. Fair is.fair, there is there, and

here is nowhere, nowhere, no hope. Isn't that so?

So it is, he answered himself, since he'd had no one

else to talk to for as long as long could possibly be. So,

so, so... so how could they lock me up like this? Why

could they?

His feverish mind offered an explanation. Fear.

That was their paltry excuse. Mere fear, sheer fear,

that's clear. He cackled at his own cleverness. Fear,

here. Fair, there. Fear is fair.

No, it is not, he protested angrily. I never did

anything, anything that mattered. Matter isn't any-

thing. No, it isn't, is it?

Not at all. All is not. Not is now.

Now. Now. Now.

Now, for the first time since his bleak, barbaric

banishment began, something new was happening.

There was a weakness in the wall, not enough to allow

him to slide his way through, at least not yet, but a

certain slackening that perhaps foretold an end to his

stubborn struggle to get past the wall. He felt a crack,

an infinitesimal fracture in the infinite, that he

shouted through with all his might. Me back in let/

Even if the entirety of his being could not pass

through the tantalizingly, tormentingly small lesion,

he could still send his ceaseless craving back into the

realm from which he had been so unjustly cast out,

crying out to anyone who might hear his desperate

plea.

Back let me in he demanded.

And a voice answered back.

Chapter One

Captain's log, stardate 500146.2.

At Starfleet's request, the Enterprise has ar-

rived at Betazed to take on Lem Faal, a distin-

guished Betazoid scientist, and his two children.

Under Faal's direction, this ship will take part in

a highly classified experiment that, if it is success-

ful, may open up a vast new frontier for explora-

tion.

"ARE YOU QUITE SURE, COUNSELOR, that you do not

wish to visit your family while we are here at Be-

tazed?"

"No, thank you, Captain," Commander Deanna

Troi replied. "As it happens, my mother and little

brother are off on one of her regular excursions to the

Parallax Colony on Shiralea VI, so there's not much

point in beaming down."

You didn't have to be an empath to detect an

unmistakable look of relief on Captain Jean-Luc

Picard's face when he learned that Lwaxana Troi was

several dozen light-years away. She knew exactly how

he felt; even though she genuinely loved her mother,

Troi wasn't too disappointed that there would be no

parent-daughter reunion on this particular mission.

Surviving a visit with Lwaxana always required a lot

of energy--and patience. Maybe it will get easier

someday, she thought. And maybe Klingons will be-

come vegetarians, too.

"That's too bad," Captain Picard said unconvinc-

ingly. "Although I'm sure our guest must be anxious

to get under way." He glanced toward the far end of

the conference room, where a middle-aged Betazoid

male waited patiently, reviewing the data on a padd

that he held at arm's length from himself. Must be

farsighted, Troi guessed, a not uncommon condition

in Betazoids of a certain age. Lem Faal had striking,

dark brown eyes, a receding hairline, and the slightly

distracted air of a born academic. He reminded Troi

of any number of professors she had encountered

during her student days at the university., although, on

closer inspection, she also picked up an impression of

infirmity even though she couldn't spot any obvious

handicap. Wearing a tan-colored civilian suit, he

looked out of place among all the Starfleet uniforms.

Almost instinctively, her empathic senses reached out

to get a reading on the new arrival, only to immedi-

ately come into contact with a telepathic presence far

more powerful than her own. Becoming aware of her

tentative probing, Faal looked up from his data padd

and made eye contact with Troi from across the room.

Hello, he thought to her.

Er, hello, she thought back. Growing up on Be-

tazed, she had become accustomed to dealing with

full telepaths, even though she felt a bit rusty at mind-

speaking after spending so many years among hu-

mans and other nontelepathic races. Welcome to the

Enterprise.

Thank you, he answered. She sensed, behind his

verbal responses, feelings of keen anticipation, excite-

ment, anxiety, and... something else as well, some-

thing she couldn't quite make out. Curious, she

stretched out further, deeper until she could almost--

Excuse me, Faal thought, blocking her. I think the

captain is ready to begin the briefing.

Troi blinked, momentarily disoriented by the speed

with which she had been shoved out of Faal's mind.

She looked around the conference room of the

Enterprise-E. The other Betazoid's telepathic com-

ment seemed accurate enough; her fellow officers

were already taking their places around the curved,

illuminated conference table. Captain Picard stood at

the head of the table, opposite the blank viewscreen at

the other end of the room, where Faal waited to make

his presentation. Decorative windows along the outer

wall of the conference room offered a eye-catching

view of Betazed's upper hemisphere, an image re-

flected in the glass panes of the display case mounted

to the inner wall. Gold-plated models of great star-

sh!ps of the past hung within the case, including a

mtmature replica of the lost Enterprise-D, her home

for seven years. Troi always winced inside a little

whenever she noticed that model. She'd been at the

helm of that Enterprise when it made its fatal crash

into Veridian III. Even though she knew, intellectu-

ally, that it wasn't her fault, she still couldn't forget

the sense of horror she had felt as the saucer section

dived into the atmosphere of Veridian III, never to

rise again. This new ship was a fine vessel, as she'd

proven during their historic battle with the Borg a few

months ago, but she didn't feel quite like home. Not

yet.

Preoccupied with thoughts of the past, Troi sat

down at the table between Geordi La Forge and

Beverly Crusher. Will Riker and Data were seated

across from her, their attention on Captain Picard.

Riker's confidence and good humor radiated from

him, helping to dispel her gloomy memories. She

shook her head to clear her mind and listened atten-

tively as the captain began to speak.

"We are honored to have with us today Lem Faal, a

specialist in applied physics from the University of

Betazed. Professor Faal has previously won awards

from the Daystrom Institute and the Vulcan Science

Academy for his groundbreaking work in energy wave

dynamics."

"Impressive stuff," Geordi said, obviously familiar

with Faars work. Troi could feel the intensity of his

scientific interest seeping off him. No surprise there;

she'd expect their chief engineer to be fascinated by

"energy wave dynamics" and like matters.

"Indeed," Data commented. "I have been particu-

larly intrigued by the professor's insights into the

practical applications of transwarp spatial anoma-

lies." The android's sense of anticipation felt just as

acute as Geordi's. He must have activated his emotion

chip, Troi realized. She could always tell, which cer-

tainly demonstrated how genuine Data's on-again,

off-again emotions could be.

"Starfleet," the captain continued, "has the greatest

of interest in Professor Faal's current line of research,

and the Enterprise has been selected to participate in

an experiment testing certain new theories he has

devised." He gestured toward Faal, who nodded his

head in acknowledgment. "Professor, no doubt you

can explain your intentions better."

"Well, I can try," the scientist answered. He tapped

a control on his padd and the viewscreen behind him

lit up. The image that appeared on the screen was of a

shimmering ribbon of reddish-purple energy that ap-

peared to stretch across a wide expanse of interstellar

space. The Nexus? Troi thought for a second, but, no,

this glowing band did not look quite the same color as

the mysterious phenomenon that had obsessed Tolian

Soran. It looked familiar, though, like something she

might have seen at an astrophysics lecture back at

Starfleet Academy. Of course, she realized instantly,

the barrier!

She felt a temporary surge of puzzlement quickly

fade from the room. Obviously, the other officers had

recognized the barrier as well. Faal let his audience

take in the image for a few seconds before beginning

his lecture.

"For centuries," he began, "the great galactic barri-

er has blocked the Federation's exploration of the

universe beyond our own Milky Way galaxy. It com-

pletely surrounds the perimeter of our galaxy, posing

a serious hazard to any vessel that attempts to venture

to the outer limits of inhabited space. Not only do the

unnatural energies that comprise the barrier batter a

vessel physically, but there is also a psychic compo-

nent to the barrier that causes insanity, brain damage,

and even death to any humanoid that comes into

contact with it."

Troi winced at the thought. As an empath, she knew

just how fragile a mind could be, and how a height-

ened sensitivity to psychic phenomena sometimes left

one particularly vulnerable to such effects as the

professor described. As a full telepath, Faal had to be

even more wary of powerful psychokinetic forces. She

wondered if his own gifts played any part in his

interest in the barrier.

Faal pressed another button on his padd and the

picture of the barrier was replaced by a standard map

of the known galaxy, divided into the usual four

sections. A flashing purple line, indicating the galactic

barrier, circled all four quadrants. "The Federation

has always accepted this limitation, as have the Kling-

ons and the Romulans and the other major starfaring

civilizations, because there has always been so much

territory to explore within our own galaxy. After all,

even after centuries of warp travel, both the Gamma

and the Delta quadrants remain largely uncharted.

Furthermore, the distances between galaxies are so

incalculably immense that, even if there were a safe

way to cross the barrier, a voyage to another galaxy

would require a ship to travel for centuries at maxi-

mum warp. And finally, to be totally honest, we have

accepted the barrier because there has been no viable

alternative to doing so.

"That situation may have changed," Faal an-

nounced with what was to Troi a palpable sense of

pride. Typical, she thought. What scientist is not proud

of his accomplishments? The map of the galaxy flick-

ered, giving way to a photo of a blond-haired woman

whose pale skin was delicately speckled with dark red

markings that ran from her temples down to the sides

of her throat. A Trill, Troi thought, recognizing the

characteristic spotting of that symbiotic life-form.

She felt a fleeting pang of sadness from the woman

seated next to her and sympathized with Beverly, who

was surely recalling her own doomed love affair with

the Trill diplomat Ambassador Odan. Troi wasn't

sure, but she thought she sensed a bit of discomfort

from Will Riker as well. A reasonable reaction, con-

sidering that Will had once "loaned" his own body to

a Trill symbiont. She was relieved to note that both

Will and Beverly swiftly overcame their flashes of

emotion, focusing once more on the present. They

acknowledged their pasts, then moved on, the counsel-

or diagnosed approvingly. Very healthy behavior.

Worfmarried a Trill, she remembered with only the

slightest twinge of jealousy. Then she took her own

advice and put that reaction behind her. I wish him

only the best, she thought.

"Some of you may be familiar with the recent work

of Dr. Lenara Kahn, the noted Trill physicist," Faal

went on. Heads nodded around the table and Troi

experienced a twinge of guilt; she tried to keep up to

date on the latest scientific developments, as summa-

rized in Starfleet's never-ending bulletins and posi-

tion papers, but her own interests leaned more toward

psychology and sociology than the hard sciences,

which she sometimes gave only a cursory inspection.

Oh well, she thought, I never intended to transfer to

Engineering. "A few years ago, Dr. Kahn and her

associates conducted a test on Deep Space Nine,

which resulted in the creation of the Federation's first

artificially generated wormhole. The wormhole was

unstable, and collapsed only moments after its cre-

ation, but Kahn's research team has continued to

refine and develop this new technology. They're still

years away from being able to produce an artificial

wormhole that's stable enough to permit reliable

transport to other sectors of the galaxy, but it dawned

on me that the same technique, modified somewhat,

might allow a starship to open a temporary breach in

the galactic barrier, allowing safe passage through to

the other side. As you may have guessed, that's where

the Enterprise comes in."

A low murmur arose in the conference room as the

assembled officers reacted to Faal's revelation. Data

and Geordi took turns peppering the Betazoid scien-

tist with highly technical questions that quickly left

Troi behind. Just as well, she thought. She was startled

enough by just the basic idea.

Breaking the barrier.t It was one of those things, like

passing the warp-ten threshold or flying through a

sun, that people talked about sometimes, but you

never really expected to happen in your lifetime.

Searching her memory, she vaguely recalled that the

original Enterprise, Captain Kirk's ship, had passed

through the barrier on a couple of occasions, usually

with spectacularly disastrous consequences. Starfleet

had declared such expeditions off-limits decades ago,

although every few years some crackpot or daredevil

would try to break the barrier in a specially modified

ship. To date, none of these would-be heroes had

survived. She remembered Will Riker once, years ago

on Betazed, describing such dubious endeavors as

"the warp-era equivalent of going over Niagara in a

barrel." Now, apparently, it was time for the

Enterprise-E to take the plunge. She couldn't suppress

a chill at the very thought.

"I'm curious, Professor," Riker asked. "Where ex-

actly do you plan to make the test?"

Faal tapped his padd and the map of the galaxy

reappeared on the screen. The image zoomed in on

the Alpha Quadrant and he pointed at a wedge-

shaped area on the map. "Those portions of the

barrier that exist within Federation space have been

thoroughly surveyed by unmanned probes containing

the most advanced sensors available, and they've

made a very intriguing discovery. Over the last year

or so, energy levels within the barrier have fluctuated

significantly, producing what appears to be a distinct

weakening in the barrier at several locations."

Shaded red areas appeared throughout the flashing

purple curve on the screen. Troi noted that the shaded

sections represented only a small portion of the

barrier. They looked like mere dots scattered along

the length of the line. Like leaks in a dam, she

thought, finding the comparison somewhat unsettling.

Faal gave her an odd look, as if aware of her

momentary discomfort. "These... imperfections...

in the integrity of the barrier are not substantial,

representing only a fractional diminution in the bar-

rier's strength, but they are significant enough to

recommend themselves as the logical sites at which to

attempt to penetrate the barrier. This particular site,"

he said, pointing tø one of the red spots, which began

to flash brighter than the rest, "is located in an

uninhabited and otherwise uninteresting sector of

space. Since Starfleet would prefer to conduct this

experiment in secrecy, far from the prying eyes of the

Romulans or the Cardassians, this site has been

selected for our trial run. Even as I speak, specialized

equipment, adapted from the original Trill designs, is

being transported aboard the Enterprise. I look for-

ward to working with Mr. La Forge and his engineer-

ing team on this project."

"Thanks," Geordi replied. The ocular implants

that served as his eyes glanced from Data to Faal.

"Whatever you need, I'm sure we're up to it. Sounds

like quite a breakthrough, in more ways than one."

Troi peered at the spot that Faal had indicated on

the map. She didn't recall much about that region, but

she estimated that it was about two to three days away

at warp five. Neither the captain nor Will Riker

radiated any concern about the location Faal had

chosen. She could tell that they anticipated an un-

eventful flight until they arrived at the barrier.

"Professor," she asked, "how similar is the galactic

barrier to the Great Barrier? Would your new tech-

nique be effective on both?"

Faal nodded knowingly. "That's a good question.

What is colloquially known as 'the Great Barrier' is a

similar wall of energy that encloses the very center of

our galaxy, as opposed to the outer rim of the galaxy.

More precisely, the Great Barrier is an intragalactic

energy field while our destination is an extragalactic

field." He ran his hand through his thinning gray hair.

"Research conducted over the last hundred years

suggests that both barriers are composed of equiva-

lent, maybe even identical, forms of energy. In theory,

the artificial wormhole process, if it's successful,

could be used to penetrate the Great Barrier as well.

Many theorists believe both barriers stem from the

same root cause."

"Which is?" she inquired.

Faal chuckled. "I'm afraid that's more of a theolog-

ical question than a scientific one, and thus rather out

of my field. As far as we can tell, the existence of the

barriers predates the development of sentient life in

our galaxy. Or at least any life-forms we're familiar

with."

That's odd, Troi mused. She wasn't sure but she

thought she detected a flicker of insincerity behind

the scientist's ingratiating manner, like he was hold-

ing something back. Perhaps he's not as confident

about his theories as he'd like Starfleet to think, she

thought. It was hard to tell; Faal's own telepathic gifts

made him difficult to read.

Sitting beside Troi, Beverly Crusher spoke up, a

look of concern upon her features. "Has anyone

thought about the potential ecological consequences

of poking a hole in the barrier? If these walls have

been in place for billions of years, maybe they serve

some vital purpose, either to us or to whatever life-

forms exist on the opposite side of the wall. I hate to

throw cold water on a fascinating proposal, but maybe

the barrier shouldn't be breached?"

There it is again, Troi thought, watching the Beta-

zoid scientist carefully. She sensed some sort of

reaction from Faal in response to Beverly's question.

It flared up immediately, then was quickly snuffed out

before she could clearly identify the emotion. Fear?

Guilt? Annoyance? Maybe he simply doesnt like hav-

ing his experiment challenged, she speculated. Cer-

tainly he wouldn't be the first dedicated scientist to

suffer from tunnel vision where his brainchild was

concerned. Researchers, she knew from experience,

could be as protective of their pet projects as an

enraged sehlat defending its young.

If he was feeling defensive, he displayed no sign of

it. "Above all else, first do no harm, correct, Doctor?"

he replied to Crusher amiably, paraphrasing the Hip-

pocratic Oath. "I appreciate your concerns, Doctor.

Let me reassure you a bit regarding the scale of our

experiment. The galactic barrier itself is so unfath-

omably vast that our proposed exercise is not unlike

knocking a few bricks out of your own Earth's Great

Wall of China. It's hard to imagine that we could do

much damage to the ecosystem of the entire galaxy,

let alone whatever lies beyond, although the potential

danger is another good reason for conducting this

preliminary test in an unpopulated sector. As far as

we know, there's nothing on the other side except the

vast emptiness between our own galaxy and its neigh-

bors." He pressed a finger against his padd and the

screen behind him reverted to the compelling image

with which he had begun his lecture: the awe-inspiring

sight of the galactic barrier stretching across countless

light-years of space, its eerie, incandescent energies

rippling through the shimmering wall of violet light.

"Starfleet feels--" he started to say, but a harsh

choking noise interrupted his explanation. He placed

his free hand over his mouth and coughed a few more

times. Troi saw his chest heaving beneath his suit and

winced in sympathy. She was no physician, but she

didn't like the sound of Faal's coughs, which seemed

to come from deep within his lungs. She could tell

that Beverly was concerned as well.

"Excuse me," Faal gasped, fishing around in the

pockets of his tan suit. He withdrew a compact silver

hypospray, which he pressed against the crook of his

arm. Troi heard a distinctive hiss as the instrument

released its medication into his body. Within a few

seconds, Faal appeared to regain control of his breath-

ing. "I apologize for the interruption, but I'm afraid

my health isn't all it should be."

Troi recalled her earlier impression of infirmity.

Was this ailment, she wondered, what the professor

was trying so hard to conceal? Even Betazoids, who

generally prided themselves on being at ease with

their own bodies, could feel uncomfortable about

revealing a serious medical condition. She recalled

that Faal had brought his family along on this mis-

sion, despite the possibility of danger, and she won-

dered how his obvious health problems might have

affected his children. Perhaps I shouM prepare for

some family counseling, just in case my assistance is

needed.

Faal took a few deep breaths to steady himself, then

addressed Beverly. "As ship's medical officer, Dr.

Crusher, you should probably be aware that I have

Iverson's disease."

The emotional temperature of the room rose to a

heightened level the moment Faal mentioned the

dreaded sickness. Iverson's disease remained one of

the more conspicuous failures of twenty-fourth-

century medicine: a debilitating, degenerative condi-

tion for which there was no known cure. Thankfully

noncontagious, the disorder attacked muscle fiber and

other connective tissues, resulting in the progressive

atrophy of limbs and vital organs; from the sound of

Faal's labored breathing, Troi suspected that Faal's

ailment had targeted his respiratory system. She felt

acute sympathy and embarrassment on the part of her

fellow officers. No doubt all of them were remember-

ing Admiral Mark Jamesonwand the desperate

lengths the disease had driven him to during that

mission to Mordan IV. "I'm very sorry," she said.

"Please feel free to call on me for whatever care you

may require," Beverly stressed. "Perhaps you should

come by sickbay later so we can discuss your condi-

tion in private."

"Thank you," he said, "but please don't let my

condition concern any of you." He held up the

hypospray. "My doctor has prescribed polyadrenaline

for my current symptoms. All that matters now is that

I live long enough to see the completion of my work."

The hypospray went back into his pocket and Faal

pointed again to the image of the galactic barrier on

the screen.

"At any rate," he continued, "Starfleet Science has

judged the potential risk of this experiment to be

acceptable when weighed against the promise of

opening up a new era of expansion beyond the

boundaries of this galaxy. Exploring the unknown

always contains an element of danger. Isn't that so,

Captain?"

"Indeed," the captain agreed. "The fundamental

mission of the Enterprise, as well as that of Star fleet,

has always been to extend the limits of our knowledge

of the universe, exploring new and uncharted territo-

ry." Picard rose from his seat at the head of the table.

'Your experiment, Professor Faal, falls squarely with-

in the proud tradition of this ship. Let us hope for the

best of luck in this exciting new endeavor."

It's too bad, Troi thought, that the rest of the crew

can't sense Captain Picard's passion and commitment

the same way I can. Then she looked around the

conference table and saw the glow of the captain's

inspiration reflected in the faces of her fellow officers.

Even Beverly, despite her earlier doubts, shared their

commitment to the mission. On second thought, may-

be they can.

"Thank you, Captain," Lem Faal said warmly. Troi

noticed that he still seemed a bit out of breath. "I am

anxious to begin."

This time Troi detected nothing but total sincerity

in the man's words.

Chapter Two

"THE MOST DIFFICULT PART," Lem Faal explained, "is

going to be keeping the torpedo intact inside the

barrier until it can send out a magneton pulse."

"That's more than difficult," Chief Engineer Geordi

La Forge commented. He had been reading up on the

galactic barrier ever since the briefing, so he had a

better idea of what they were up against. "That's close

to impossible."

The duty engineer's console, adjacent to the chief

engineer's office, had been reassigned to the Betazoid

researcher as a workstation where he could complete

the preparations for his experiment. To accommodate

Faal's shaky health, La Forge had also taken care to

provide a sturdy stool Faal could rest upon while he

worked. Now he and Geordi scrutinized the diagrams

unfolding on a monitor as Faal spelled out the details

of his experiment:

"Not if we fine-tune the polarity of the shields to

match exactly the amplitude of the barrier at the

point where the quantum torpedo containing the

magneton pulse generator enters the barrier. That

amplitude is constantly shifting, of course, but if we

get it right, then the torpedo should hold together long

enough to emit a magneton pulse that will react with a

subspace tensor matrix generated by the Enterprise to

create an opening in the space-time continuum. Then,

according to my calculations, the artificial wormhole

will disrupt the energy lattice of the barrier, creating a

pathway of normal space through to the other side?

"Then it's only two million light-years to the next

galaxy, right?" Geordi said with a grin. "I guess we'll

have to build that bridge when we get to it."

"Precisely," Faal answered. "For myself, I'll leave

that challenge for the starship designers and trans-

warp enthusiasts. Who knows? Maybe a generation

ship is the answer, if you can find enough colonists

who don't mind leaving the landing to their descen-

dants. Or suspended animation, perhaps. But before

we can face the long gulf between the galaxies, first we

must break free from the glimmering cage that has

hemmed us in since time began. We're like baby birds

that finally have to leave the nest and explore the great

blue sky beyond."

"I never quite thought of it that way," Geordi said.

"After all, the Milky Way is one reck of a big nest."

"The biggest nest still hems you in, as the largest

cage is still a cage," Faal insisted with a trace of

bitterness in his voice. "Look at me. My mind is free

to explore the fundamental principles of the universe,

but it's trapped inside a fragile, dying body." He

looked up from his schematics to inspect Geordi.

"Excuse me for asking, Commander, but I'm in-

trigued by your eyes. Are those the new ocular im-

plants I've heard about, the ones they just developed

on Earth?"

The scientist's curiosity did not bother Geordi;

sometimes his new eyes still caught him by surprise,

especially when he looked in a mirror. "These are

them, all right. I didn't know you were interested in

rehabilitative medicine. Or is it the optics?"

"It's all about evolution," Faal explained. "Tech-

nology has usurped natural selection as the driving

force of evolution, so I'm fascinated by the ways in

which sentient organisms can improve upon their

own flawed biology. Prosthetics are one way, genetic

manipulation is another. So is breaking the barrier,

perhaps. It's about overcoming the inherent frailties

of our weak humanoid bodies, becoming superior

beings, just as you have used the latest in medical

technology to improve yourself."

Geordi wasn't sure quite how to respond. He didn't

exactly think of himself as "superior," just better

equipped to do his job. "If you say so, Professor," he

said, feeling a little uncomfortable. Lem Faal was

starting to sound a bit too much like a Borg. Maybe it

was only a trick of light, reflecting the glow of the

monitor, but an odd sort of gleam had crept into the

Betazoid's eyes as he spoke. I wonder if I would have

even noticed that a few years ago? Geordi thought. His

VISOR had done a number of things well, from

isolating hairline fractures in metal plating to tracking

neutrinos through a flowing plasma current, but pick-

ing up on subtle nuances of facial expressions hadn't

been one of them.

"Chief!" Geordi turned around to see Lieutenant

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PrologueLETMEBACKIN!Inbackmelet!Beyondthewall,hegibbered.Timemeantnothingtohim.Aninstantwasthesameasaneternity;bothweremerelysubjectivemeasuresofhisisolationandhismadness,whichbeganthemomenthewascastoutofcreationandhadbeentakingitstolleversince.Hisexilehadjustbegun,andithadlastedforever.It'snotfair,...

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