Lily 24

Prof Nitikman begins, I suppose you wonder who marked all those exams.
At that moment, I know.
I found myself disagreeing, and often vigorously, with a third of your conclusions.
I groan inwardly.
Now had you been a Master's candidate, writing such when library information was available, you would certainly fail.
Oy!
Considering your eduction of high school and one year tech; considering the only information available was that in your head; it was a phenomenal achievement. On a couple items, you changed my opinion, history of Jews in India and one other too lengthy to mention now.
Thank you.
I detect in your line of logic, those weren't all your own opinions. Obvious you've squared off with a male debating partner, I'm guessing your father.
I blush, nod.
Nothing to be ashamed of. Where would the world be if every person had to reinvent the wheel? And if your father did not influence you, surely books would.
I breathe a little easier.
I conclude you are a very capable student, look forward to working with you.
Thank you.
Gen begins, by now I'm sure you've reached the conclusion the Col and myself are cowboys with our shorts on too tight. Akin to circa 2000 novels where a rogue lone CIA agent brings the USA to the brink of total war.
Pointless to deny the obvious. It would be better if I hadn't blushed.
Let's put it in perspective. Are you aware of IDF authorization levels for incursions outside The Wall?
I reply the IDF has strict rules of what constitutes hot pursuit when the enemy has started an incident. Actual premeditated IDF incursions require Defence Minister approval.
Gen smiles, and we're even more closely watched. A pure research trip, with no actions authorized, requires Prime Minister approval. Any act which could potentially change history requires unanimous consent of Prime Minister, Defence Minister, Foreign Minister, and Education Minister.
Inwardly I heave a sigh of relief.
There is no fail mark. Failure is not coming back. Even returning with anything at all, makes you a Lieutenant. An average bureaucratic report, Captain. Show talent, ability to analyze, as the Prof believes you have, Major.
I nod.
For now, we won't go into transmission methods, that's for later with the tech people. Prof will take you under his wing for a month or so. Show you what info we already have from circa 2000, no point bringing back. Show you what we want to find out.
I shift uneasily.
Don't misunderstand me. You aren't a spy prying out mil info. Every secret they owned in those days, is now printed in textbooks for our undergrad history students to read.
First couple hours, Prof walks me through data bases. I realize it's pointless to return with anything published by the New York Times, Canadian Census, NATO, and a long list of others.
Time for tea, he asserts. I must have missed his sleight of hand trick, not expecting foul play. After one sip, I'm falling asleep.
I'm standing at a stream. The water, darker than deepest purple, bubbles up from the ground in murky waves. Everything is covered with ash.
I walk along the stream what seems forever. Every step brings feelings of melancholy, but I know I must see this.
And then I arrive at the swamp. As far as the eye can see, angry people are hitting and biting each other. I now know where I am, Styx. The vibes coming off this defy the English language to describe.
Yet curiously, none assault me. As I move forward, they stand aside respectfully, like the parting of the Red Sea.
As I walk, again forever, I understand the bubbles coming up are people confined below surface.
And then I see a crowd of people swallowing mud. They too do not impede me, stand aside respectfully.
I am now at the foot of a tower. End of the line for the living; only the dead go further.
A million plus eyes are on me, curious.
For the first time I hear, even though the people engaged in hitting had been screaming.
It is a terrible demonic voice, coming from high up in the tower. Orders me not to look up, asks my name.
Lily Lichtenbaum.
Lily, do you know where you are?
Yes.
Where is that?
Fifth Circle of Hell.
Demented laugh, then asks, are you Living or Dead?
Living.
How do you deduce that?
Were I Dead, I would be hitting and biting. Were I Dead, others would hit and bite me.
Again the laugh, very good. Now why are you here? Are you upon a quest?
Yes.
You must turn back, the Living go no further.
I turn to go.
Don't go yet. I admire anyone with enough courage to walk this far. Scarcely one in a century. I gift you your hearing back, to aid in your quest. Now go in peace.
His voice gets louder, listen up clowns, no noise til she's back. I tell you when it's ok to party again.
Again I pass through the Red Sea parting, this time they are even more respectful.
As I return to the source of the stream, I awake in Prof's office, covered with mud and ash. Wierd or what?
He speaks, "do you hear me ok?"
"Yes."
"Means you actually went all the way. What did he tell you?"
"Admired my courage, gave me my hearing back."
"It is they control the portals of time. None pass but they approve. But now, you are free to come and go at will."
"Hold on a min, how many people have you sent looking for this approval?"
"Fifty. You're the first to succeed."
"Am I the first deaf person to go?"
Easy laugh, "what you went through was terrible enough. Now imagine the wall of white noise on top of it. Any surprise no one else did it?"