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Back The Desert of Glass Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. BY MICHAEL C. GRUMLEY
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. 63
  66. 64
  67. 65
  68. 66
  69. 67
  70. 68
  71. 69
  72. 70
  73. 71
  74. 72
  75. 73
  76. 74
  77. 75
  78. 76
  79. 77
  80. 78
  81. EPILOGUE
  82. II
  83. III
  84. IV

He approached it again in a straight line toward the pillar.  He studied it one more time, more slowly, gazing closer and closer at the crystal column.  He leaned back and followed it up, examining the outside layer, even removing his glasses to hold them up to the spire’s surface as he would a magnifying glass.

Angela and Joe patiently watched and waited.

“Do you see something?”

The professor nodded and gently took a step to the side, examining another section.

“What is it?” Angela asked.

“This isn’t crystal,” said Townsend.

She glanced at Joe.  “No?”

“Nope.”  They both watched the man shake his head.  “Crystal is caused by a process called crystallization, when hot liquids cool and begin to harden, giving them their unusual clarity.  But this…” he said, speaking while rubbing the tower’s smooth surface, “is more opaque.  Especially in certain sections.  It reminds me more of silica.”

“As in glass?”

“Yes.  But glass is a non-crystalline, because it’s formed from intense heat rather than cooling.”

Townsend now placed his entire hand against the spire.

“Still hot?”

He nodded.  “But not hot enough to make glass.”

“So, it’s not glass.”

“Remember, energy can have many different forms.  Heat is just one of them.”

“Meaning…”

“Meaning,” said Townsend, “that if other forms of energy are also coalescing here, they may be assisting in the formation of the silica.”

“You said different energies could turn into one another.”

He dropped his gaze and turned to Angela, grinning approvingly.  “That’s right.  Because energy never disappears.”

30

30

After a dramatic afternoon, the three returned to the hotel before sunset, thankful to find no police waiting for them and allowing them all to relax together inside Joe Rickards’ room.

Angela was propped up on the bed with her head against the headboard while Townsend sat in a cheap vinyl chair, with Rickards resting his hip against the edge of a short black and tan dresser—which, coincidentally, matched nothing else in the room.

The professor still had not revealed to them what he experienced in the canyon.  Instead, he lingered quietly in the chair staring blankly at the wall.

“Still with us?” Rickards asked.

The question induced Townsend to calmly swivel in the chair toward them.  “What?”

“Are you still with us?”

“Yes,” answered Townsend, shaking the cobwebs from his head.  “Sorry, I’ve just been thinking.”

“Anything we can understand?” Angela quipped.

The older man grinned at her.  “Just trying to figure it out.”

“Which part?”

“How it works,” he replied.

“The spire?”

“No,” he said.  “Everything.  The whole thing.  The whole experience.  It’s clearly real.  But how?”

“I hope you’re not asking us.”

Townsend shook his head, then rolled himself toward the edge of the bed.  “Energy never…” he paused, waiting for Angela to complete his sentence.

“Disappears.”