It was the day I had looked forward to. After countless security checks and nondisclosure forms, I had finally gotten security clearance to view the classified research at Bearkeley University, where I was studying for my Master's degree in the magical arts. Who said a fox couldn't be book smart? I was led by Dr. Hopper, a ring-tailed lemur with a no-nonsense attitude. Her expression, combined with her perfectly fit attire and British accent reminded me of a nanny from TV, strict but not unkind. We entered a sterile-looking room; the shelves on the walls were lined with what looked like hazmat suits. She beckoned for me to put one on and started donning a suit herself. As I picked one out, I asked ``So what's in there that we'd need these suits for? Is it something toxic? Radioactive?'' I struggled a bit to thread my tail into the suit.
``No,'' she said after a moment, ``but it is dangerous. We've found that some of its more... unpredictable properties are tamed if we put a barrier between it and anything living.''
``That sounds a little scary.'' I finished putting on my visor. ``I can't wait to see what `it' is.''
``Right this way, Richard.''
She swiped a card and entered a code to open the doors. We passed through an antechamber, where she opened another key code door, and into a room lined with reflective black tiles. The main source of light inside was something, well, it was hard to describe. It was a network of mauve-colored lines that branched and intersected, like something confused about whether it should be a tree or a spider web. But these branches were constantly shifting; they changed shape, grew and shrank, vanished and appeared like shapes in a kaleidoscope. On some of the branches were objects that gave the impression of diamonds. These too were constantly shifting, seeming to fold into themselves in a way that looked familiar. ``There are four-dimensional, aren't they?'' I asked Dr. Hopper.
``Yes,'' she said. She continued with a tone of grandeur, ``this is the Web of Reality, or simply the Web. It is at the core of all existence. With it, we can see all aspects of things and how they have changed with time; even alter them. Our understanding of it is still in its infancy. We do not yet know how to scry it, let alone alter it, in any sort of controlled manner, but perhaps you can help us get a little further in that goal.''
I took a moment to find my voice. ``You want me to help with this?'' I asked, a little breathless.
``Only if you want to. This is a big undertaking, and there are dangers. We will give you some time to study what we know, so that you can make an informed decision.''
``It's definitely not something I'm going to take lightly.'' I paused. ``What sort of dangers are there?''
Dr. Hopper gestured back to the Web, ``the crystals you see each represent a person. The ones you see now represent people nearby. They contain every aspect of a person's being, both in the present and at every moment in the past. Should they be damaged, the consequences to the person could be dire.'' She pulled out a tablet, which projected holograms of crystals from the Web, only distorted or irregular. Some appeared cracked. ``These are records we have of damaged crystals. The people whom they represent have been altered in turn. No two that we've seen are alike. Some have escaped with minimal consequences. Some have gone mad. At least one became a feral beast. We don't even know who all of them were; we know they must have been near the web at some point, but it appears that even their pasts and memories of them have been altered. Some, we fear, may have been erased from existence entirely.''
``Wow.'' I was silent for a minute. ``This is a lot to take in.''
``I will give you a moment.''
I looked over at the web and took a step toward it, pondering its immense, terrifying power. One of the crystals caught my attention. Something about it resonated with me. Without really noticing, I took a few steps closer. I realized it was my crystal. I could see an impression of my foxy form in it. As I drew near it, I began to see what it held. Indeed, it contained aspects of my being with ``layers'' showing how they had changed through time. Some of those aspects were basic ones you might immediately think of: age, heritage, appearance, hopes, fears. But other aspects were very specific: things like blood pressure, opinions on grape soda, and potty training. As I drew near, Dr. Hopper, sounding distant, warned me not to get too close, but I was transfixed. I barely noticed that the crystal was slowly moving toward me. With the faintest tap, it touched my visor. There was a flash of mauve light and a sharp pain in my forehead and...
I put my hands on the table and inhaled deeply before excitedly blowing out the candle, in the shape of the number 8, on top of the cake in front of me. It was official, at least in my mind; as of this moment, I was eight years old. The presents before me, waiting to be opened, were not those of a mere seven-year-old. The cake could wait a little bit. I turned to Dad and asked ``what should I open first?''
``Hmm.'' He feigned indecision before picking up one of the smaller rectangular packages. ``How about this one?''
I quickly opened the wrapper. I couldn't believe it. It was Piratoids, the game that had been all over the advertisements on TV. My friend William kept bragging about how great it was. Now I could play it! I grabbed the next present, which had the same dimensions. This time, it wasn't a game. It was a DVD of my favorite show: Kit Flash (season 2). Two more presents remained. The first, a large box-shaped package was a remote-controlled car. It wasn't the Terra Speeder I had wanted, but it was still pretty cool. The last one was a little underwhelming. It was just a dumb sweater. Wait, it had the Kit Flash logo on the shoulder, so I guess that was cool. But it was a sweater and we were in summer. I wouldn't be wearing it for a while.
After the excitement of opening presents, we watched he first episode of Kit Flash while we had cake. I explained a few things in it to my parents as the titular Kit Flash had to rescue his mentor, Swift, from a villain with water powers. When the episode finished, I popped Piratoids into the GameBox. After a quick tutorial, I started the first area of the game and fought through some of the invading mutant pirates. It was harder than I expected, but I didn't play video games that much. After I died a few too many times, I realized that the sugar rush from the cake was wearing off, so I saved and turned off the console.
I went upstairs to get read for bed. After a quick bath, I returned to my room and got my PJs out. This included my DryJams, which I needed to keep my bed dry. Usually, they didn't bother me. They were just a part of my nightly routine. But when I put them on and saw myself in the mirror, I felt a twinge of shame. I was now eight years old. Wasn't that a little old to be wearing pullups? Shouldn't I have stopped wetting at night?
Something was wrong. No. I wasn't eight. I was twenty-three. I was supposed to be off at the university, not at home with my parents. What had happened? As far as I could tell, this seemed about right for my life when I was eight. Had I gone back in time? I looked at myself in the mirror. There was a faint mauve glow around my forehead. The color triggered something in my mind and it all came flashing back: the Web, Dr. Hopper, the crystal. I must have damaged it and somehow gotten stuck in my own past. I closed my eyes and tried a simple scrying spell, which let me lock in to the crystal in my mind's eye. It took a moment to discern anything in its shifting form, but eventually I could see a consistent form within the movement. It clearly was damaged; cracks ran through it and the outer two thirds or so were jarred loose. I briefly had a sense of dread.
I shook my head. What had I been scared about? Something to do with college? That didn't make any sense. I was going into third grade, and I wasn't really worried. I got good grades and my teaches said I was reading on a fourth-grade level. I took another look at my pullup and decided there was no shame in it. I finished putting on my PJs, turned off the lights and got in bed. Soon, I was off to dreamland. They were strange dreams. There was nothing vivid; just the image of a cracked crystal.
I awoke to see sunbeams on my bed. As I sat up, I felt the familiar sensation of a wet DryJam. I thought back to my brief moment of shame last night but quickly brushed it away. This was just a normal morning for me. I was sure I would grow out of it eventually. Until then, why worry? I got out of my Pjs and slipped off the sodden pullup. Next, I got out a pair of regular underwear. There was a brief feeling that something was off and a vague image of a crack growing in a crystal appeared in my mind. I shook my head and continued putting on the fresh pullup.
After I finished getting dressed, I went off to the bathroom for my morning pee. Of course, it was possible to just use my pullup, but I wasn't going to. It was just underwear with some added perks, just in case. I didn't really have accidents, but it was always good to be prepared. Wait, that didn't make sense. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. This was all wrong. I was stuck in my past, but I didn't wear pullups during the day when I was eight. I closed my eyes and focused the scrying spell. There was a new crack, this one working its way into the inner part of the crystal, which previously had little damage. I briefly thought of returning to my room to get some regular underwear, but soon remembered I didn't have any. Unlike my lucid moment last night, I was still partially in my kid consciousness. It was weird. Going in and out like this was a bit like a dream, where you don't realize how strange events are until you wake up.
Hunger soon distracted me from these thoughts. I was at a loss for what I could do about my situation, but it was best not to ponder these things on an empty stomach. I went downstairs, greeting my parents, who were reading, and poured myself a bowl of Fruit Flakes and a glass of orange juice. I ate while cartoons played on the TV. Eating the cereal was itself rather strange with my mind in this in-between state. As an adult I had outgrown such sugary cereals and I found the sweetness rather cloying. But as a kid, I found it delicious.
I finished the cereal as I pondered this contradiction before turning my attention back to the crystal in my mind's eye. As before, I could see the damage; the outer ``layers'' jarred loose while a crack penetrated into the remaining inner portion. If those loose outer two thirds represented the missing 15 years, then I figured the crack got to around age 3. That might explain why I was in pullups during the day. Even as I became concerned that I might regress further, the tip of the crack splayed slightly.
I became a bit dizzy and shook my head. A feeling of warmth spread through the front of my DryJam. I must have become distracted and didn't notice I had to go, but I couldn't even remember what had distracted me. It didn't really matter, though. Accidents like this were normal; that's why I had my trusty DryJams. I knew I'd eventually get the hang of using the toilet. The pullup had done a good job wicking away the moisture, so it barely felt wet, though a quick poke showed it was slightly thickened. It wasn't wet enough to bother with a change.
With breakfast finished, I rinsed the bowl in the sink and came back into the TV room to play Piratoids. It was still a hard game, and I died a few times on regular enemies. I needed to get better or my friend William would tease me about it. I had a major break when I realized I kind of had to play smart; I had to time counterattacks and lead the shots. I was able to progress much faster that way. Regular enemies became much easier to defeat and I even beat my first miniboss, a Piratoid captain, on my second try. The game had all my attention, and the time got away from me until I started feeling hungry again. I got to the kitchen to find Dad making himself a tuna sandwich. ``Hey, kiddo. Hungry for lunch? Anything I can get ya?''
``Uh,'' I said. ``I was just going to have a PB&J.''
``I think that's something that Chef Dad can whip up.''
``Yes, it is a very hard recipe, but I think you're up to it.'' I could have made the sandwich myself, but I wasn't about to turn down his offer.
The sandwich was soon on a plate in front of me, after I gave a quick ``thank you,'' of course. Man, I hadn't had a good PB&J since I was a kid. Well, I was a kid. Once again I was in this waking dreamlike state; my adult mind was partially present. The crystal appeared in my mind's eye and I examined the damage, puzzling over how it might be fixed. Even as I thought, the splay of cracks near the center grew slightly. Great, more damage, and probably some further regression with it. I decided to go to my room to think in privacy. If only I could keep my adult mind for long enough. On my way through the living room, I felt pressure in my bladder and bowels. While I felt the urge to go, and knew what to do on some level, I felt no desire to use the toilet; it didn't exactly occur to me that it was the proper thing to do. Instead, with little hesitation, I stood still and released a stream into my DryJam. This time, it was totally soaked. It swelled almost to the point of sagging. That done, I started filling the back of the pullup with a sticky load.
Mom gave the air a sniff. ``I hope you're heading up to your room to change, young kit. I don't want you in that messy pullup for too long.''
``Yes, Mom. I-I'm sorry.''
``Don't be sorry. That's what your pullups are for. Everyone potty trains at their own pace; there's no pressure.''
``Thanks, Mom.'' I continued to my room and opened my underwear drawer, or rather, my pullup drawer. In one corner of my mind, I thought that I should be ashamed or disgusted that I'd just pooped my pants, but it just seemed like a normal ocurrence.
Still in my mind's eye, the fractures in the grew further once, then twice.
I picked up a diaper from the drawer and ran my thumb over one of the tapes. Once I got changed, I could get back to my video game.
The cracks spread throughout the inner part of the crystal.
Video game? Those were for big kids. I was only three; I wouldn't be any good at them. I was going to play with my plushies!
Mom came into the room and playfully announced, ``okay Mr. stinky pants, let's get you changed!''
``No!'' I shouted. I wanted to play. ``No.'' I muttered. This wasn't right.
I focused all my attention on the crystal. It was heavily cracked now and showed no sign of stopping. How much further was this going to go? Was I going all the way back into infancy? Could I regress into nothing? What would be left of me? I had to salvage this, somehow. I wasn't sure how I did it, but I brought ghostly paws, the same mauve as the crystal, into the space surrounding it. With them, I pressed the loose pieces together. I imagined myself creating immense pressure; the kind that could turn coal into diamond. There was a flash of mauve light.
I was standing back in the room with the Web. For a moment, it seemed that things were back to normal, until I noticed that I was still wearing a rather full pullup. In the tiles, my reflection was that of a grade-school-age kit rather than a college-age adult. The crystal hovered in front of me; traces of the cracks were still visible, but they were fainter, like a cut beginning to heal. Dr. Hopper's voice came from behind. ``Get back from there, young fox. It's dangerous! You really should be more care - '' She looked at the Web. ``Wait a minute, your crystal's damaged.'' She sighed and rubbed her forehead. ``I told the dean you shouldn't come in here. You may be a prodigy, but you're still a child; you have no place being around something this dangerous. Oh, this is going to be a mess.''
``Hold on,'' I held up a paw to stop her. ``I'm not supposed to be a kid.''
``What?'' She looked at me, then to the crystal, and back to me. ``Explain,'' she said bluntly.
``Well, I...''
It took a bit for me to tell the story. Not that it was a long one, but it was difficult to untangle, what with switching between my adult and child mind, each remembering a different life. Even now, I seemed to have at least two sets of memories; one as an adult coming here as a graduate student, and another as a child prodigy who was apparently never fully potty trained. It wasn't clear where one life ended and the other began, or which one was real. But then, if reality itself was mutable, how could I even say that one was real and the other wasn't? I finished the story as best I could and looked at Dr. Hopper, hoping it made sense.
``It's going to take a bit to make sense of what you've told me, but there are some important revelations here. If what you say is true, then you're the first person we know of who was able to willingly stop and reverse a reality breakdown, even partially.''
``Could it be reversed completely?'' Even as I asked this, it occurred to me that what I would go back to was not necessarily more real than what I was now. To the part of me that was a kid, this was normal.
``No.'' Dr. Hopper hesitated. ``I don't think so. The Web is unpredictable and you're lucky that this situation resolved as well as it did. I think the best course of action would be to accept your current reality. Still, I believe that you could definitely contribute to our program, both as a student and as a case study. Of course, to avoid further incidents, you won't be working with the Web directly. Whether you participate is still up to you, however, and we will give you some time to make a decision.''
``Thank you,'' I said as we headed toward the exit. ``I think this would be interesting to work on.''
I was going to have a lot of thinking to do. I would have to consider whether to accept the invitation, though I probably would. Then there was sorting out the new dual nature of my reality, but I figured I could make it work. But, before I got to any of that, I needed a change. One of many to come, no doubt.
