The Conscience of Echidnas

<><><><>

Knuckles, Last of the Echidnas, Guardian of the Master Emerald, sat on a rock near the edge of his island. His thoughts drifted back to that encounter with the hedgehog and the human. He chuckled, noting that at least it had broken up his existence for a while. Slowly, his mind receded into meditation, as he let the wind whip by him as the island ran its course.

His reverie was violently disturbed. A sound halfway between a screech and a rip shattered the silence of his mind. In the second it took for him to return his mind to control of his body, the sound seemed to crescendo, then to end with crack. When he had control again, he quickly got up and spun around.

There was something very different about the scene. This part of his home was jungle, had been for the duration of his existence; but now it seemed both more overgrown and less green. There was a shift in mood from how it had been even a sliver of time before.

But what caught and hung up his agile eye was another creature, standing alone, rubbing its face as if to rub the stars out of her eyes.

Her?
His chin dropped. One of his own species! He’d never seen one besides himself, in the indefinite eternity of his existence!

She was shorter than he was, her dreadlocks were smaller, she was frailer and lighter-colored; but she was also, undeniably and unambiguously, an echidna.

Surprise was not a strong enough term for Knuckles’ reaction. Even shock was far too weak. Knuckles was completely stupefied.

Apparently, she was done clearing her eyes, for she now looked at Knuckles. “Hello,” she said. “A little embarrassed?” she lightly chuckled.

Knuckles tried to get his mouth to work. In some corner of his mind, he was half-surprised he understood what she was saying, but he filed it away as something the emeralds were responsible for. He managed to swallow. “Em—embarrassed?”

“Yes,” she said, still chuckling. “You’re naked!”

Naked? It was a foreign concept to Knuckles. He looked himself over. Yes, he supposed, he was naked; but why was that relevant? He looked at her; no, she was not naked, and it appeared that her “clothing”—ending above her knees, strapped over her shoulders and not extending over her arms—did not hinder her movement. He decided to voice his objections. “What does that matter?”

He must have shocked her terribly; she withdrew a step, blinking. “It’s obscene!”

Again, he looked himself over. Strictly speaking, in terms of reproductive organs protruding, that assessment was incorrect; his fur was more than sufficient to cover his body. He was not “obscene” by any definition he knew.

He said as much.

“But it’s obscene to be showing so much of yourself! I mean, I myself am pushing things a little with this,” she went on, indicating her clothing. “I mean, I don’t want to be called a nudie or something.”

Knuckles missed the last comment, as he was working on the first. “Pushing things” seemed to denote a societal standard. That meant she came from some sort of community. Knuckles wouldn’t let imagination of what that meant run away with his brain; he needed his faculties on the here-and-now. He filed that line of inquiry away for another occasion. “My fur is enough,” he said flatly, trying to deflate the tizzy he was obviously working her into. That didn’t appear to work, judging from her stance and expression; he tried to change the subject. Extending his hand in what he had long accepted as a universal sign of trust, he approached and asked, “What is your name?”

Perhaps her strange definition of obscenity was a greater taboo than he expected. She took a small step backwards before reaching out with her hand as far as she could reach, keeping him away from her. “Myla,” she answered. “And you?”

“Knuckles.” There, he thought; a rapport. He’d successfully opened relations. He wanted to mine as much information as he could out of this opportunity.

Before he could begin, though, she spoke again. “What an odd name. ‘Knuckles’. What are you doing way out here?”

It was an inquiry, that was for sure. Knuckles ran over the words again, determining they were asking for motive. He stalled for a moment, trying to determine how to answer. Motive was not a thing he was often asked, and this suited him, for he often went without one. He stalled longer, trying to determine which answer would work best to maintain this rapport. “No reason” or “Just because” would probably sound dismissive; he decided to try, “To clear my head.”
She nodded, as if she understood. A part of his brain felt relief. He’d chosen correctly! “I know how that is. I’ve got so much to worry about. What do you think about?”

“Nothing.” The words were out before he could control them. She looked at him in a way he interpreted as confused and repulsed; he would have to find a way to soothe this misstep. “What I mean is, I sit here and try to…” he “tried to” find words to describe it, or anything for that matter “… to clear my mind and to think of nothing.”

“You have a funny way of conveying no information whatsoever,” she responded. He quickly analyzed this response. “Funny way” seemed good, but the negative confused him. He decided that the statement was disapproval. He sighed, hoping that the conversation would avoid straying into colloquialisms; that curious dialect the hedgehog had spoken had made him virtually unintelligible.

He felt a need to say something further about his motive. He tried something new. “Sometimes I test how close to the edge I can approach without falling off,” he said, struggling a bit.

Her expression went totally to the confused side. “Edge?”

Finally, he could lead! This was an opportunity to display something of enough interest to keep the rapport going. He allowed his expression to brighten. “Follow me.” He rose and walked ahead of her towards the edge.

He felt her stop behind him and turned to respond. He didn’t know why she’d stopped, but her expression bore some… he classified it as fear. He didn’t understand; the edge was natural to him, a given. He reached out and grabbed her arm. Slightly pulling her, he brought her close to the edge.

“Be careful,” he said as he knelt. She followed his lead. He felt as if her body was deadening, as if she was controlling it less. He wondered why that might be as he carefully pushed her head out over the edge.

She gasped loudly and pushed away from the edge with great haste. Though Knuckles hadn’t looked over, he knew what she’d seen: several hundred meters of open air over the ocean.

Her facial expression seemed to Knuckles like a fish out of water: her mouth opened and shut uncontrollably while her eyes widened considerably. He tried to reach out to her, but she recoiled and withdrew from him. Knuckles’ frustration and disappointment leaked through his control. What was wrong with her?

“What is it?” he said, anger creeping into his voice.

She looked at him wide-eyed. “What… happened?” she managed.

He tried to think of some implication of her words, but in the end, he fell back to their literal meaning. What happened to the island, that was the full question. But this was a disappointment. “It has always been like this,” he told her, “as long as I have existed.”

“But… but… that’s not possible! Just last week I visited one of the colonies, and our city wasn’t on any… any floating island!”

She was speaking too quickly; Knuckles lost bits of her words, but he could manage to shape a meaning using her negative. “I come here every day. The edge is not new. You are new.”

Apparently, she could not accept this. Knuckles saw her back off, then turn away from him and run. Knuckles shook his head in bitter disappointment. The first echidna he’d seen in his life, and she couldn’t even talk sensibly.

<><><><>

Knuckles sat down on a large rock to try and grasp what had happened. In a few seconds, the landscape of the island’s edge had drastically changed. With the change had arrived the first echidna besides himself he’d ever been aware of. And yet she had no idea that the island had become a floating island; she seemed from another time and place entirely.

This was not making sense, Knuckles thought grimly. He had no explanation for it. He was too far away to ask the Emerald’s guidance, as well. Then what could be done? He turned to the direction the echidna—Myla, she’d said—had fled. He set out to follow.

He breathed deeply, drinking in the air, focusing his mind, then threw himself into the air. Over time, he’d learned to channel the power of the Emerald enough for him to achieve a modest altitude, though he did slowly fall. Now, Knuckles thought as he skimmed over the surface of the jungle, where could she have gone?

He heard a scream. Since he knew of no other animals that made such a sound, he traveled in that direction. His control gave out; he fell to a light landing on the jungle floor. As soon as his feet hit ground, he ran towards the scream.

As he ran, he noticed an abrupt shift in the jungle’s tone. It turned from the sort of run-down, overgrown jungle to the more familiar lush, full-bodied jungle he knew. He couldn’t explain the shift, so it amplified his anxiety.

He soon found the echidna girl, quaking in fear before a medium-sized snake. The snake’s fangs, together wider than the girl’s arm, were bare before her. The snake’s eyes blazed in all their hypnotic glory.

Knuckles disturbed the impending feast. He exploded onto the scene with a mighty leap. Without a second thought he clubbed the snake’s head with both hands, stunning it. The head of the snake whipped back, looking for what had caused the disruption. It gathered its several echidna-lengths behind it as it looked around. Then the snake’s eyes fell on Knuckles, and all confidence in its bulk vanished. The snake turned tail and slithered into the jungle with nary a hiss. Knuckles noted with satisfaction that, despite its length, the snake took only five seconds to disappear from sight.

Knuckles observed the girl about to collapse and very thoughtfully pulled up an old log for her to fall onto. He even made sure the log was only partially rotted. Yet when she did collapse onto the log, she fell off of it and turned angrily to Knuckles. At least, he thought it was anger; she shifted emotions so quickly he was having a hard time keeping track.

“Thanks a lot! That hurt!”

Knuckles was dismayed. He thought that “Thanks” was a positive, but her tone held something that sounded like scorn. Her second statement made him understand that she wasn’t thanking him at all. There was a word for saying something you do not mean. He couldn’t think of what the word was. Sarcasm? No, that was not it…

She continued, forcing him to pay attention to the current situation. “I mean, I’m happy you saved me from that snake and all, but you could have helped me calm down!”

He shook his head helplessly. “Your words come too quickly,” he said plaintively.

She sighed as if in pity. Knuckles hated pity. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just completely lost,” she said, getting louder, “and I don’t know what I’m doing here! I mean, what is ‘here’?”

Was it not “where is here?”, Knuckles though curiously. This level of conversation was poor. Unfortunately, there was no alternative. What could Knuckles get out of this, despite all the limitations?

For now, he knew, he had to try to maintain the rapport. “This is the Floating Island,” he said simply. “It has been, it is, and it shall be,” he said, conjugating the verb with difficulty.

“Since when?” she asked.

Not enough, Knuckles thought. “Since when… has it been what?”

“A floating island!”

Knuckles found the perfect word. “Always,” he said happily. “Always.”

“How did I get here?”

Knuckles struggled to answer. It took him several seconds before he came up with, “I do not know. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them you were there.”

She threw up her hands. As Knuckles understood it, that was not a good gesture. “Just perfect! I don’t know where I am and how I got here. How am I supposed to get back?”

Knuckles broke the statements down into chunks. The first statement seemed another non-truth; Knuckles hesitantly decided that “sarcasm” was indeed the proper word for such a thing. The second statement was a little fast, but he reasoned she was stating the situation. The third was an obvious query, but he couldn’t understand what she meant by “back”. He knew she meant back to somewhere, but where else was there? If he didn’t know where she was from, how could he help her?

He couldn’t really articulate this to her, so he instead said, “I do not know.”

If her reaction was any indication, she was upset with that answer. She started talking very quickly, using words that Knuckles couldn’t understand, like “home” and “Council” and “scientists” and something about “hover” something-or-other. She concluded with a statement she spoke so strongly that it must have been a curse or oath of some kind. Knuckles swallowed uncomfortably.

She turned to him, as if expecting a response. She prompted, “Well?”

He puzzled over the word, finally brightening his face and responding, “Yes, very!”

She ran away from him a second time.

<><><><>

Knuckles caught up to her easily, of course, but she seemed to have decided to ignore him. There was no speech from her, and though Knuckles tried to prompt her to speak, she gave him no answer.

Knuckles didn’t care. He was patient as the trees, constant as the waterworks that kept the island flowing. Always he was at her side, waiting for something—anything—to help him piece together why she was here.

He did a few things to pass the time. He analyzed their previous conversations and determined that his downfall had been her use of words to mean other things. He remembered that he’d been a little rough in dispatching that snake; for a snake of that size, just seeing Knuckles would have stopped it. For amusement, he tracked their course of travel. He was mirthful when he realized that in a quarter of a day, they’d traveled only a few moments’ run towards the island’s interior. Their course was largely circular, though of course he didn’t mention this.

He observed his companion growing weaker and slower. He even helped her over some of the bigger roots and obstacles, though she always shook free as soon as she was over. Eventually, she came to a stop and said, “Do you know where there’s some food?”

He’d stopped expecting speech, so he missed most of her words, but he latched onto the word “food”. “Yes,” he said. “This way.” Now he led, and she followed.

He knew intimately the locations of the larger termite mounds on the island; he led her to the closest. He paused a moment to admire the height of the mound before him. He bowed in respect before the industrious termites. Then he drew back a fist and punched into the mound. It disintegrated before him, causing termites to fall onto his glove. He withdrew his glove and, quickly as he could, slurped up as many termites as he could. While they were no threat to him, their tiny jaws incapable of harming his gloves, he didn’t want to lose too many of them.

After cleaning his glove of termites, he realized that she was still standing behind him. With the same glove, he plunged back into the termite nest. He then turned to her, extending his hand to her. “Eat,” he said.

Her look was impossible for Knuckles to gauge. However, she didn’t move to eat. Disappointed again, Knuckles finished off the termites on his glove. No need to let them all escape, he thought.

Maybe she didn’t want to eat from the glove he’d used already, he thought next. So this time, he stuck his other fist into the mound. This time, when he extended his fist towards her, she actually backed off a step.

He decided to let her know of his disappointment. “I thought you wanted food,” he said in his best tone for disappointment.

“Yes, but termites?”

“Yes. What else would I eat?”

She seemed hesitant, so Knuckles plunged his fist in again. This time he put his hand directly under her nose. She backed off, then—with disgust so obvious even Knuckles could grasp it fully—ate a few of the termites.

She spat, causing Knuckles to jump in surprise. “Nasty,” she said, spitting.

Knuckles gave a noncommittal gesture and helped himself to another handful of termites.

With Knuckles encouraging her at every step, she eventually ate an adequate number of termites. Knuckles noticed signs of fatigue in her. “Do you want to sleep?” he asked.

She shook her head up and down. Knuckles took this as an affirmative and led her to a nearby cave. He went in first to make sure it was uninhabited, and was satisfied that no creature had been there for quite some time. “Safe,” he said to her. “You can sleep here.”

“Doesn’t look very comfortable,” she said, eyeing the cave.

Another unknown concept, Knuckles thought. “What is comfort?”

“Never mind. Forget it.”

Her tone was exasperated, Knuckles thought. She is very fatigued. He let her pass him towards the interior of the cave, but he remained at the mouth. After several long moments, he heard her finally settle down.

He sat at the mouth of the cave, letting the moon shine down upon him. The day’s events had upset and challenged him. But as he sat, he drew upon the calm of the night. Everywhere, he could hear insects chirping, primitive animals moving about, the occasional night bird screech. This is my jungle, he thought. And his mind slowly sorted itself, falling into order of its own. Knuckles smiled in contentment. The night was good.

He had no plan for what to do tomorrow. He felt no urgent need for a plan. Besides, any plan would be inaccurate, depending entirely upon the unknown that had entered Knuckles’ life—this strange echidna girl.

Knuckles let all his anxieties seep away from him, becoming one with the night, finally banishing the thought of the girl away.

<><><><>

Knuckles woke when the sunlight began to play upon his face. He smiled, basking in the warmth without opening his eyes. Knuckles loved to begin days like this—though he could and often did operate many days without sleep, he found that this way helped him focus his mind. Moreover, it felt so good!

After the sun had risen more, he turned towards the interior of the cave and opened his eyes. Sure enough, the girl was still there, curled up like any newborn mammal, he thought. He rose and walked over to her. Gently, he began to shake her. She is nowhere near as sensitive as I am, thought Knuckles. I would’ve been awake with the first touch. He shook harder and she finally stirred. Knuckles backed off to give her some room, then decided to leave her alone for a while. He retreated back to the mouth of the cave.

As the sun climbed higher, Knuckles felt her approach behind him. She walked out beside him. “Thanks for staying out here all night,” she said. “I felt… safe.”

Knuckles shrugged. “I would have without you,” he said.

She gave him a strange look, and Knuckles regretted his reply. From now on, he noted to himself, he would accept gratitude and praise whenever it was given.

My comprehension of her language has greatly improved, he noted. It was as if during the night, the Emeralds had sorted and analyzed his conversations with her yesterday. Now he knew far more, was able to communicate far better. That would be excellent, he thought.

Knuckles stood and stretched a bit. It never occurred to him that this was somehow boring to her; boring wasn’t a concept he was familiar with. When he was done, he turned to her. “Are you hungry?” Knuckles wasn’t—then again he rarely was, thanks to the Emeralds—but she’d eaten so few termites, he was concerned.

She squiggled up her face. “No thank you. Those termites were just fine.”

Knuckles smiled. He’d done well in feeding her! She was more full than he’d thought. “Where shall we go?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “None of this is familiar. Where do you want to go?”

“We could go towards the center of the island.”

“Sounds fine to me.”

To be sure, Knuckles reminded himself, he had no intention of bringing her to the Emerald chamber—there was no need for that, anyway. But the center just seemed the natural direction in which to travel. On the Floating Island, everything ended up moving towards the middle.

They set out, though for Knuckles the pace was abominably slow. The girl, try as she might, had no idea how to move properly in the jungle. He saw her try new ways of moving, some of which worked, some of which failed miserably. Worse still, Knuckles had no idea how to teach her. He didn’t think about how to move properly, he simply did; it was as ingrained a part of Knuckles’ character as his duties and his color.

At the very least, she kept from hurting herself.

Knuckles felt the approach of midday and told her to stop. She plopped down on a root, tossed off her sandals, and rubbed her feet, repeating “Ow, ow, ow, ow,” over and over.

Knuckles shook his head, dismayed at her weakness. He wanted to try conversation again; there had been precious little of that since the morning’s embarrassment. The problem was, he couldn’t think of anything to say. Instead, he looked around. There! He saw, hanging in a tree about five echidna lengths up, a moss that he used to ease sores and pains. Maybe it would help her feet.

He walked over to the tree, apologized to it in advance, and then dug his knuckle-barbs into the bark. Hand over hand he scaled the tree up to the moss. Grabbing a big handful of it, he pushed off from the tree. With a deep breath, he focused on the strength of the Emerald, trying to draw on a little bit of its power. Yes! He fell slowly to the ground and landed without injury.

It never occurred to him that she was watching him, nor that this was slightly beyond usual as far as she was concerned. So it was surprising to him when he looked back at her to see her eyes filled with distrust and fear.

She looked up at the tree where he’d been, then down at him again. “How did you defy gravity like that?”

He cocked his head. “What is gravity?”

Her face was incredulous. “You don’t know any science?”

“What is science?”

From the look on her face, she couldn’t understand his ignorance any more than he could comprehend her knowledge. He shook it off, walked to her, and bent down to her feet.

She drew back. “What are you doing?” she said with suspicion.

“This moss will ease your pain.”

“Are you sure? How do I know?”

He thought about it for a few seconds, then shrugged. “You do not,” he said flatly, and reached for her foot.

She jerked away at the last second, but Knuckles tracked her and caught her in his original motion. She struggled against his grip, even kicking him in the mouth, but he disregarded it and applied the moss, rubbing it into her foot.

The beating continued unabated for a few seconds, then stopped when she began to feel the relief from the moss. Knuckles shook his head. He was helping her, but it was more trouble than it was worth. So far, he’d gained almost nothing from their interactions. Knuckles weighed his prospects of getting information from her with those of finding information through investigation. After thorough evaluation, he decided to leave her behind. Dropping the moss, he walked away from her.

“Hey, where are you going?” she asked. Knuckles felt no need to answer. She ran after him, stumbling over rocks and vines and roots, trying to keep up. Knuckles was almost indifferent to her cries. “Come back! What am I supposed to do? What if another snake comes? What if… ow!”

Slowly but steadily, she lost ground to him. For some reason, he didn’t go near as fast as he could have. He went only slightly faster than she did, even with all of her stumbles.

Why do I not simply leave her behind? He asked himself. He found no answers, but did conclude that she was getting better at walking in a jungle.

Knuckles picked up a barely audible sound. It was unknown, unnatural. He immediately put all of his concentration into holding on to the sound, focusing over the complaints and cries of the girl. It seemed like the same screech-rip sound he’d heard before he’d met the girl, but it was all around him. Knuckles looked up and saw that the land around him seemed to be glowing. The sound grew louder, the land glowed brighter, and the scene changed with a loud crack.

As before, the island was very changed. Where once there was dark green and lush growth, now there was spare growth and a lighter tone. Instead of an ordered chaos to things, as Knuckles was used to, everything seemed phony, artificial.

The girl caught up to him at last. “What was that?”

“I do not know,” he said. He spoke as he connected, “That sound is the same as when you came here.”

“Well, I know this place. We aren’t ten kilometers from home.”

“Home?”

“Where I live,” she said.

Knuckles pondered it. He didn’t “live” anywhere—everything on the island was his to play with. But if she had a designated space to “live”, it meant some sort of organization. It was as with the termites—they had places they were assigned to and seldom strayed.

Knuckles felt himself growing excited again. Was there really a group of echidnas? Did they have a “home” like an echidna termite mound? He longed to see it. He felt a pang in his chest, and when he looked to his insides, found a great void.

Is this where my people are supposed to be? He wondered. Have I been missing my people all along, but only realized it now? Is this right?

He had to find answers; even more urgently than he wanted to figure out what was changing his jungle, he wanted to know where he could find more echidnas. To get there, though, he’d have to rely on the girl. “Where is this “home”?” he asked.

She pointed. “This way.” Before long, they came to a clearing. However, this was like no clearing Knuckles knew. The ground was perfectly leveled rock, unyielding before Knuckles’ feet. Nothing grew there, not even the grasses Knuckles loved; the grass was confined to the sides of the rock. Then again, the grass seemed rather tame, too; it grew only to a certain height and no more.

“It’s not a long walk,” she said. “Like I told you, only about ten kilometers.”

From his experience, Knuckles now knew that trying to get definitions out of her was like trying to explore the hydrocity inside the island: one tunnel led to another, and if you didn’t already know your destination, you were doomed to wander forever. Without something—anything—as a common base for these new terms, Knuckles knew he would just have to wing it.

They walked on for a while. The clearing just stretched on in both directions, exactly as it was at one part for all of its length. It dawned on Knuckles that perhaps the clearing was built. There was no way things naturally grew like this.

“Did echidnas make this clearing this way?” he asked Myla.

“Yes, of course,” she answered, a puzzled tone in her voice. That meant this was common knowledge, Knuckles thought. “It’s called a road,” she continued.

“But why is it here?”

“It’s easier to get to and from places over a road. There are lots of roads in parts of our territories.”

“What are territories?”

“Other places that have echidnas.”

Knuckles’ eyes widened. “There are more?”

“Yes,” she said, laughing. “What did you expect?”

“You are the first echidna I have ever seen.”

She stopped, turned around. “The first?”

“Other than myself, yes.”

“Not even your mother and father?”

Knuckles knew those words, but only because they applied—a little—to the animals he cared for on the island. “If I had them, I do not remember them now.”

“If you had them…” she laughed nervously. “Everyone has them. How else can you be alive?”

Knuckles didn’t know. He traced back his memories and could find nothing of ‘before’. He knew that all animals grew from small to large, changing along the way; but if Knuckles had, those memories were lost, for in each of the memories he had, he looked, felt, and acted like he did now.

Except within the last two days.

“Let us continue,” he said quietly.

<><><><>

“I don’t understand,” Myla said. “The spires don’t look the same.”

“Spires?”

“The tops of buildings.” She pointed ahead. “The buildings ahead of us—the tops look different.”

“Ah,” said Knuckles. “The ruins!”

“Ruins?” she shrieked.

“Yes. If you continue to go directly forward, you will enter the Ruins of the Sky.”

Her mouth was left hanging open—he realized she had no idea how such a thing could be. But Knuckles heard a sound and turned his attention away. No, it wasn’t the land transforming again, it was something else. He looked down the road and saw something approaching.

It was a very strange floating machine (Knuckles knew a little about machines, thanks to Robotnik). Its shape offended Knuckles’ artist’s eye. It was shaped like a rectangle, with imitation wings flaring out. In the front of it were lights. And riding in it were…

“More echidnas!” he whispered.

All of his aesthetic thoughts fled from this one fact. The machine slowed down as it approached. The occupants were laughing. “Hey, nudie, forgot your pants?”

Knuckles realized they were talking to him. “No,” he said truthfully.

They only laughed more. Hyena laughing, Knuckles thought distastefully. What’s the joke?

Myla approached the machine. “Where are you going?”

“We don’t care, just away from the capitol.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Didn’t you hear? The biggest science experiment in the history of our race is going on right now, and we don’t wanna be near it if they screw up.”

“Yeah, and what are you doing out here with this nudie?”

“I found him,” she said, and Knuckles could feel the hesitation in her voice.

“Found him?” There was general laughter from the vehicle. “Well, hope you’ve had your fun with him!” More laughter, but then some sounds of disagreement. Knuckles focused in on the sounds. One of the echidnas was saying, “We should grab ‘em and go.”

Other voices shouted agreement or disagreement. Finally one voice said, “We won’t have time if they struggle—we spent too much time trashing the store. We’ve gotta get away, it’s almost time for the experiment!” There were murmurs of agreement, and the machine sped off down the “road”.

Knuckles was bewildered. Even though he’d heard and processed all of the conversation, his lack of vocabulary was hurting his comprehension badly. “Help me,” he said to Myla.

She turned. “What do you need help with?”

The phrase struck Knuckles in a way he didn’t expect. Since when have I needed help with anything, he wondered. Since she appeared, was his obvious answer. I don’t understand echidnas.

That thought left him even worse off. How is it possible that you can not understand what you are? Apparently, the true nature of echidnas was something he was not.

He shuddered. But he had a duty. If that ran contrary to the nature of echidnas… how was he supposed to resolve that?

Perhaps he could better understand echidnas—and resolve his conflicts—through Myla. He looked up at her in hope. “Words,” he said, “I don’t understand some of the words.”

“Like what?”

“Nudie. Pants. Science. Store.”

“Nudies… some echidnas, for different reasons, just don’t wear clothes. Some have good reasons, but others just like the attention. It’s not a compliment.”

Knuckles had guessed that much.

“Pants are clothing that cover your waist and legs.”

Rather impractical, Knuckles thought with disdain. That would restrict your range of motion.

“Science is how we find out about the world around.”

Knuckles shook his head. Everything that was important for him to know, he knew already—except why echidnas were here when they hadn’t been before.

“And stores are where animals go to trade.”

“What’s trade?”

She shook her head at him. “Don’t you know any other animals?”

Yes, Knuckles thought. I know some. He nodded grimly. Other animals—almost without exception, hostile thieves.

If stores were where hostile thieves were…

Knuckles could feel his systems gearing up at the thought of enemies. Does store equal threat? He had to find out, immediately. His senses sharpened, ready to pick out trouble. Subconsciously his body prepared for battle. He began producing extra blood and platelets in case of wounds; his adrenals warmed up and sent a shot through his body. His heart rate increased and his lungs expanded, activating extra brachioles in case of need. He called upon the power of the Emerald in preparation for battle.

Primal messages from the Emerald permeated his mind. Threat! Find the threat!

If the store is a threat, destroy the store!

Movement caught his eye. It was Myla, backing away from him with a look of fear covering her face. With a jolt he realized how he must look to her—he’d prepared to destroy the store before even getting a definition of ‘store’!

Knuckles felt a new emotion coursing through his body. Rapidly he settled back onto his feet, releasing the Emerald’s strength and resetting his vital functions back to standby.

What was this new emotion? He’d never felt it before. It was so strong! He felt like he wanted to hide somewhere, but that feeling violated every principle upon which he lived.

His face was now level with hers again, and he spoke. “Go on with your definition,” he said.

“A st-store is where animals exchange things,” she said, obviously nervous. Knuckles realized how much he must have scared her. The new emotion rushed through him again, but he held his ground against it.

“Is there anything threatening about stores?”

She gave anxious laughter. “Not that I know of.” She laughed again. Knuckles, inexperienced as he was, still knew the laughter had been forced.

He replayed the events in his mind. “Why would those echidnas “trash” the store?”

She blinked. “I… don’t know,” she said. “I think we need to go there.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because there might be people there they hurt.”

The thought staggered Knuckles. Sure, he’d never hesitated to hurt—occasionally kill—intruders, but this was different. This wasn’t over emeralds—at least, he thought it wasn’t.

But echidnas would harm for no reason?

“Where is the store?” he growled.

He saw her draw back again, then swallow and speak. “That way, straight down the road a little way.”

“Hold my hand,” he commanded. She did so, though hesitantly. He looked down the road and begged the Emerald to assist him.

A wind swept up behind him. But it wasn’t a real wind; it was simply a manifestation of the Emerald’s power. Whatever it was, Knuckles felt it whip through his body. He joined it as it flew down the road, faster than a swooping hawk.

“Aagh!” she cried. She had no connection to the wind, Knuckles realized; he was dragging her through the air with his own power. Desperate, she gripped his hand with both of hers. He held her tightly, not letting go.

There! A blur on his left. Quickly he cut his connection to the Emerald. He landed on both feet; to her surprise, if not his, she did as well. After all, in reality, it wasn’t they who had moved.

Knuckles’ jaw dropped in surprise. He hoped that this wasn’t what stores looked like normally. Refuse was strewn around a building; of the items outside, as far as Knuckles could see, no container had been left unsmashed, no food undespoiled. What a waste, Knuckles thought hatefully. “Trashed” was, indeed, the correct term.

“Oh, no!” she said. That was some relief, Knuckles thought. I was correct that this isn’t how things should be. “Let’s go inside! Come on!”

He followed her in. The inside resembled the outside, except that a variety of liquids covered the floor. Their shoes splashed as they walked. “Anyone here?” called Myla.

A head peered over a partition of sorts. Knuckles recognized some signs of aging that bothered him. He’d never seen such signs in other echidnas. Of course, he noted, his knowledge of other echidnas was painfully limited.

“Are they gone?” the head asked.

“Yes,” answered Myla. “What happened?”

“Vandals,” the head said. The echidna the head belonged to stood and brushed itself off. “I can’t believe it. All I do is stay here and tend my store. This isn’t the first time!”

“Why don’t you fight them?” asked Knuckles, puzzled.

The elder echidna looked questioningly at him, as did Myla; however, her expression was more… Knuckles struggled. Unsure. Like she was wondering why he would suggest such a thing.

“Why, young lad,” said the elder, “if I were as young and strong and proud of my body as you are, I would. But I’m old and helpless. I couldn’t fight one of those hoodlums, let alone several.”

“We’re supposed to have police,” said Myla sadly.

“Police?”

“People who aid animals in trouble.”

Knuckles nodded. Those would be good to have.

“Yes,” said the elder, “but no one lives close enough to here to help. The people who might live close enough to help won’t; I asked them. Even if I called the police, nothing would come of it these days.”

With a shock, Knuckles realized what that meant. Echidnas acted only in their own interests—and they were willing to hurt others to do it. Worse, even though they had people who were supposed to help, they really needed them—because without them, echidnas would simply revert to weak versus strong. But, apparently, these equalizers were not doing their duty.

‘I’m old and helpless. I couldn’t fight…’

The words replayed in Knuckles’ mind. Must everything be reduced to weak versus strong?

He turned to the elder. “I will help you. I will clean this… store, and protect you if those echidnas come back.”

It’s all I can do, he thought.

Myla followed him a mere moment later. “Yes, we’ll work together and clean your store for you.”

The elder looked at him in surprise, as if he’d never heard such words before. Then he smiled. “Well, my boy, you may not wear pants, but you’re far more decent than many that do!”

<><><><>

Knuckles worked to gather up the refuse that still stood around the outside of the store. The girl and the elder walked out of the store to join him. But when they did, the elder stopped.

“Hey… what happened to the city?”

Knuckles looked back over his shoulder. “City?”

“Where all the echidnas live,” relayed Myla, also wondering.

“We should be able to see most of the taller buildings from here,” continued the elder, “but I see almost nothing. In fact, there should be a bunch of houses just down the road, but I can see from here that the road just goes into a forest.”

“There is no city,” said Knuckles. “I know not why you remember a city being there. However, if you wish the truth, I have never known you to be here, either. I have existed on this island for a very long time, and you have never been here.”

“Island?” said the elder.

“Yes,” confirmed Myla. “Bizarre as that sounds, this entire area is an island now.”

Knuckles noted that she left out the fact that the island floated in the air. Then again, he thought, the elder was having trouble accepting things as they stood.

The elder shook his head, confused. “I just don’t understand it. And you know what? My watch doesn’t match the sun at all. According to my watch, it’s morning, but the sun is getting lower.”

Knuckles managed to piece the elder’s meaning together without Myla’s help. However, Myla confirmed his theories. “So, it should be before midday, but it’s closer to night?”

“That’s right. I can’t explain it. I know that those hoodlums weren’t here for that long!”

Knuckles filed away the term “hoodlums”. So that was the term echidnas applied to undesirables. Useful knowledge.

However, there was nothing Knuckles could do at the present. He shrugged and continued to clean, calming himself with his patience. “I know nothing about this. I would help you if I understood, but I do not.”

They worked for a while, and then the elder said off-handedly, “So, little lady, don’t you have to be home soon?”

She laughed. “I would, I guess. But since there’s no way for me to get there, and there’s no way to know if it’ll even be there, I guess not.”

The elder nodded. “Yes… with everything so crazy and unpredictable, I can see why you’d have doubts.”

“Besides, the only way I’d be able to get there is walking—or if Knuckles would be willing to help.”

Knuckles thought about it. “I would help you. We could go very quickly.”

She gave him a look he hadn’t seen before. “Now wait a moment. If you could go so fast, why did we walk everywhere until now?”

“There was no reason to go quickly. I am in no hurry.” And that was true. “I also might hit something—very dangerous at high speed. If you are dead, there is no point to moving quickly.”

The elder laughed, while Myla smiled and said, “I guess you have a sense of humor after all.” And Knuckles might have agreed, had he known what she was talking about.

<><><><>

The three of them worked until the birth of night. Knuckles would have worked longer, and did for a time, but after his companions went to sleep he lost heart. For some reason, he felt… like the work wasn’t worth as much if they weren’t doing it together.

This feeling startled him. He pondered it as he sat in the dark. He was in a room in the store, back behind the area echidnas normally went in. The elder had explained how this was the “private” area, whatever that meant. Both the elder and the girl slept now on elevated platforms of sorts. They’d offered one to Knuckles, but he found it far too soft. He was uncomfortable unless he slept on a hard surface—in his experience, soft surfaces had a dangerous tendency to give way.

Besides, he had no intention of sleeping. He had too much on his mind.

So he sat alone on the floor and reviewed the day’s activity. The most disturbing element of the day had been his meeting with other echidnas. Those echidnas were despicable in every regard—they caused harm and destruction with neither rhyme nor reason. Their strength allowed them to take advantage of the works of others. The strong pillaged the weak.

Well, said a voice within him, strong over weak is a universal constant. It exists amongst all forms of life—the weak are stepping stones that allow the strong to advance and prosper. Why would you hold echidnas to a different standard than, say, the snakes of your island?

Yes, I would! Because they can think! thought Knuckles. At least I can, and Myla can; surely they can. Once an animal can think, it should no longer be driven only by its own will to survive. All morality begins with the idea that there are stronger imperatives than the blind urge to do whatever will ensure survival. Without morality, there is no purpose to the existence of an animal that can think—he is lower than the life forms without the ability to think, since they can’t know better.

All of this is why I accept my duty to guard the Emerald, he thought. I’ve thought about this before. The Children of Chaos cannot be undone; however, the strength they bestow is far too much than can be wisely entrusted to any animal. Therefore, the only way to prevent their abuse—to prevent animals from abusing that strength—is to ensure they remain out of the paws of anyone.

Including me. I can only use the power they wish to give me. And I cannot use them to harm.

So where does that leave me? These echidnas—my own people, those from which I spring—are lower than snakes. They are too foolish to use the Emerald, that is certain. And if what Myla and the elder said is true, this foolishness is not restricted to a handful of rogue echidnas. Yes, echidnas are bad.

His train of thought crashed to a halt.

What about Myla?

I don’t know the elder very well, but I do know Myla. She seemed eager to help in case of trouble. It was she who’d suggested we go to the store in the first place. And she worked—not skillfully, but diligently—the whole time we cleaned.

Here was an echidna who wasn’t covered by the rule. It was a tremendous comfort to Knuckles—that he’d found an echidna that had some vestige of morality.

At the same time, though, it disturbed Knuckles on a different level. If he could not judge the whole race at a time, then he had to judge worth individual by individual—and in a worst-case scenario, he might not have the chance to do that. He shuddered at what might happen.

His thoughts were interrupted yet again. A sound… a screech/rip! Instantly he ran out of the store and looked down the road, towards the center of the island.

Another large portion of the island was glowing, the glow becoming ever brighter as the sound grew. Finally, with a now-familiar ‘crack’ sound, the land changed. The sight took Knuckles’ breath away.

Where there had been jungle, now there were buildings—so many they blocked Knuckles’ view. He stood transfixed for several seconds, then grimaced. Turning, he jumped to the store’s roof, then took an Emerald-assisted leap straight up.

He was now about fifty echidna-lengths in the air. From there, the buildings stretched out in his view—many of them, covering the ground like a swarm of ants, far and away more than Knuckles could count. He directed his gaze to the limits of the transformation. As far as he could tell, the buildings continued only for a certain distance. Past that, the island was unchanged.

His mind swirled with possibilities—and distracted him. His concentration gave out, and almost before he realized it, he was in free-fall. He struggled, trying to grasp the power of the Emerald, yet it eluded him. Somehow his preoccupation with echidnas, with the changing landscape—with everything—was limiting his ability to hold on to the Emerald.

He finally achieved a weak grasp on it, but it was far too late. His last effort slowed his fall by a little, but his landing was still very hard.

The air flew from his body; he was unable to force it to return. As he lay paralyzed by this he assessed the damage done to him. As usual, the Emerald kept him from real harm without lessening his suffering; although his bones were intact, several blood vessels had ruptured, and he had numerous massive bruises.

He finally managed to get some proper airflow into his body. As normal functions returned, he felt his powerful systems begin repairing the damage his carelessness had caused. All manner of biological agents rushed to the wounds of his body; he was aware of their every progress. He hated having to focus on the reparations, as he had other things to think about, but he could never take his mind off of them as long as they worked.

Thus preoccupied, he walked back to the private part of the store. He walked to where Myla was sleeping. He tried to shake her awake. She responded far too slowly for his liking.

“What?” she said, clearly irritated. Knuckles was hardly able to deal with her at the best of times, but he had no time to waste.

“Something has happened. Come with me.”

She got out of bed ever so slowly. Her slow movement was agony to Knuckles. “Come! Quickly!”

She shook her head and looked up at him. “It’s still the middle of the night!”

“Actually, between beginning and middle, but you must hurry! The land has changed again!”

She stood. “Alright, what do you plan to do?”

“We should go down there and see what has changed,” he said, leading her out of the building. “I saw buildings, but I do not know what they are.”

As soon as they were out of the building, Knuckles begged the Emerald for its power again. It took several seconds for him to concentrate enough, but when he had it, he refused to let go.

He put Myla’s arms over his shoulders. Rather than use the Emerald to move himself, he poured the Emerald’s power into his legs. He began running—faster… faster… faster still, until the wind deafened him.

Now he was in amongst the buildings. He slowed and stopped.

Immediately Myla let go, but when he looked at her, she didn’t seem disturbed. She is getting more accustomed to things, Knuckles thought.

She looked around. “This is just a residential neighborhood,” she said.

“What is that?”

“It’s where echidnas live.”

Knuckles’ eyes widened in excitement. “I want to see them!”

She curled her lip. “Well, you can’t just invade people’s homes. That’s not allowed.”

Knuckles’ face fell. “But do they not want to be with other echidnas? I know I would.”

She had difficulty answering. “They want to be with those they like and stay away from others.”

“But if they do not interact with others, they cannot determine if they wish to spend more time with them.”

Myla shook her head. “I… guess you’re right, but they feel that way anyway.”

“Is that how you feel?”

Her head shot up, and she looked at him in surprise. He waited for her answer, and she was long in delivering it. “Yes, I guess it is. It’s one of those things that doesn’t make sense. We wish to be open with others, and yet we fear others at the same time. It’s the way of things.”

He lowered his head and shook it. “I do not understand.”

She patted him on the head. “It’s something we have to figure out for ourselves. It’s not a simple world at the best of times.”

Had he not known her so well, his reaction to her touching him would have been to rip her arm out of her socket and beat her with it. And yet, for reasons he did not understand, he allowed her to continue touching him, making contact in a way he’d never known.

On the quiet road—this had to be a road, Knuckles thought, it’s too flat and solid—a noise shattered the silence. Knuckles whirled to face it. An echidna was poking its head out of a door. Its expression was one of confusion.

“Hey,” shouted the echidna, “why’s it so dark all of a sudden?”

Myla shouted back, “It’s been dark!”

“Spraint,” said the voice again, “it’s ten in the morning! What are you and that nudie on, anyway?”

“We are on the road,” Knuckles said.

Myla hid her face from the echidna. The echidna stared for a few seconds, then slammed the door.

“Was I wrong?” asked Knuckles.

“No, you were right, but that wasn’t what he was asking,” she answered. “C’mon, let’s go back to the store. I need to get some sleep.”

“Not yet,” said Knuckles. “We must know how far this change goes. I will run us to the edge of it, then we will return to the store.”

She shrugged. “Fine by me.”

Knuckles ran to the point where the buildings stopped and his jungle began anew. The location worried him. “This is too far towards the center. This change is less than the others, yet it is approaching the center of the island.”

“Is that bad?”

“Yes.”

“What’s at the center?”

Knuckles shut himself up before he could answer. The strength of the urge to talk to her was frightening. The prize of the island must be kept as best a secret as can be maintained, he thought to himself. He had to concentrate on the thought to make it stick in his mind, but eventually his urge was suppressed. Calming, he looked back up at her.

“Let’s return to the store,” he said.

<><><><>

Knuckles had to put his contemplations to rest for the time it took him to return to the store. After all, he desperately wanted to avoid the foul-up he’d caused earlier.

It was difficult to do. He had much to think about.

As the store came into view, however, a sight horrified him. There was the machine he’d seen the hoodlum echidnas in! And there were the hoodlums, huddled together outside the store. He analyzed their faces to be sure. No mistaking them—his memory was perfect, and these were the same echidnas. One of them held a conical container with some cloth sticking out of it; another held a small device that was outputting flame.

Flame!

Fire!

Knuckles hated it, hated the damage it caused. And these echidnas were acting as if fire was their plaything.

Knuckles’ body shifted to full battle mode—awareness at the peak, senses sharp, muscles tense, systems ready. He released the Emerald’s power as he approached the hoodlums. Without waiting for them to recognize him, he charged into their midst.

While he was in the air, he promised to himself not to kill any of them. With that in mind, he struck.

The velocity of his body check hurled an echidna back into their vehicle. The blow stopped Knuckles’ motion, and he took advantage of the other echidnas’ slow reactions.

The echidna with the fire machine tried to take a swing at him. Knuckles saw it coming. He pivoted on one foot, dodging the blow. Without missing a beat he continued the motion, twirling around. With that energy, he dealt a vicious backhand to the echidna that held the fire machine, knocking him to the ground. It wasn't enough to shatter vertebrae, but more than enough to incapacitate the recipient.

Simultaneously, he unloaded a kick to another’s knee. The blow shattered the echidna’s kneecap and sent fragments of bone slicing into the joint, all but tearing the limb off. The echidna fell to the ground, shrieking in pain.

The hoodlum with the bottle received a complementary blow to the genitals, followed by a chop to the back of the neck that left him senseless.

One of the hoodlums tried to grab Knuckles and pin his arms. Knuckles responded by easily breaking the attacker’s grip, his strength more than enough to overcome his puny assailant. He followed by twisting the attacker’s arms together, breaking both in multiple locations. He let the echidna slump to the ground, paralyzed by pain.

Knuckles glanced around, looking for the final echidna. There had been six, he was sure.

Crack!

Knuckles whirled about. One of the echidnas slumped half-in, half-out of their machine. Standing next to him was Myla, a broken broomstick in her hand and a grim smile on her face.

“The coward tried to run,” she said. “If you’re gonna be despicable, you should at least be brave about it.”

Knuckles actually laughed. “I will get something to tie them with,” he said.

“Are you sure you need to? You’re a great fighter.”

He laughed again. That was a massive understatement. “I am sure. We cannot watch them forever.”

She shook her head. “For someone who’s always trying to help, you sure enjoy fighting a lot.”

He shrugged. “Enjoy? No. However, when I have come to a conclusion, I can be more… loose? I am not sure how to put it,” he admitted. “That is, when I see what must be done, I can do it with a freer heart.”

She nodded. “You sure did do it. Come on, this way.” They got rope and returned to the bodies. “That was, what, six on one? And it lasted a whole six seconds?”

“It was a non-lethal fight,” Knuckles said solemnly. “These are not real fighters. It could have been shorter, but I did not wish to kill them. Real fights are over almost instantly—bodies are fragile, and competent, strong fighters can kill at once.”

“Like you? Competent and strong like you?”

He nodded. “I have known few like myself. When I find one, the fight is always much longer. More memorable. I never lose, but sometimes my opponent lives.”

His body by then had released its tension, and he’d shrunk as his muscles relaxed. Now that this was almost complete, Myla became less openly anxious—she was relaxing too, he thought. “How are you able to do so many incredible things? I mean, you can float, you can run so fast, your muscles get so big you can crush bones with ease—how can you do these things?”

Knuckles hesitated. She was asking about the reason for his existence. It was a huge security risk to tell her. At the same time, though, he felt almost compelled to tell her—by what, he knew not, but the feeling was there.

It was a huge risk. Even though he felt he wanted to reveal things to her, the principle of maximum security was embedded deeply into him. Telling her about the Emerald seemed to violate his existence—yet at the same time, he saw no other compelling reason not to tell her. The directive was in place to prevent harm, yet he failed to see how harm could arise out of the situation.

These thoughts passed through his mind in moments. He still had not decided. He was fed up with indecision and resolved to tell her. If something went wrong, he’d be able to force himself to do the right thing. He knew that. Besides, she was neither a threat nor an enemy.

Explaining would require some time. He finished tying up the hoodlums and stood. Myla said to them, “The police will be here in the morning, so I suggest you rest a while.” Seeing as only a few of them were conscious, it was hardly a necessary statement, Knuckles thought.

Knuckles followed Myla into the store. “My strength…” he began. She turned, eager to hear him. Her eagerness unnerved him, and he almost stopped, but managed to press on. “What I tell you cannot be revealed to anybody. It is a great secret, and it is important that very few know of it.” There, he thought. He’d followed his obligation to maintain security—and he’d silence her if she tried to reveal anything in his presence. On the other paw, it did obligate him to keep her in his presence for the time being at least—yet the thought was not at all repulsive to him.

“In the center of this island, there is a large jewel. An emerald, larger than you or I. Very large. And in it is great power.”

He kept his eyes locked on hers. “There are others as well. They call themselves the Children of Chaos. Others call them Chaos Emeralds. The one on this island is the Master Emerald.

“I am a servant of the Master Emerald. I protect it and maintain it. I ensure no one can steal it and abuse its power. In this way, I protect the whole world, for the whole world would be at risk if its power were unleashed.”

She stared back at him for several seconds. Then her face seemed to explode.

Knuckles jumped backwards. His nerves, always on moderate alert, were primed in these circumstances; and for once he felt that this impulse was not serving him well. For immediately after he jumped, he saw that she was laughing at him.

Knuckles’ gut felt like he’d produced way too much stomach acid, and that all of that acid was now working its way into the deep recesses of his body. She hadn’t taken him seriously—not in the least! Thoughts seared him. Why has she stirred these emotions in me? The angry thoughts raced through his mind, bypassing all the logic gates of his analysis.

A single voice spoke up in his mind. Why do you let her have such power over you?

All his analysis short-circuited. WHAT?

You have opened to her. Her opinion matters to you. You want her acceptance.

Why?

If Knuckles had dwelt much longer upon those issues, they would have torn him apart. Much to his salvation, however, Myla gave him something to focus on other than introspection.

“You weren’t kidding, were you?” she said, her laughter quickly falling away.

His insides burned—she hadn’t taken him seriously! “No,” he said strongly. One of his still-functioning brain cells noted that her denials decreased the security risk she posed, but that was poor comfort to him in his state.

“Well, I, uh…” She struggled to find words to say to him, not daring to look him in the face.

At least, he thought, she noticed the hole she punched in me.

“I actually think I’ve heard of something like that,” she said nodding sagely.

“You asked where my strength comes from,” he reminded her. It’s your fault, he added mentally.

“Yeah, I did. Actually, it makes some sense. You’re here to guard it, so it tries to make your job easier. I understand.”

The pain lightened on him. Somewhat.

She looked at him with a softer—but, at the same time, worried—face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she professed.

What she meant, Knuckles thought. It makes no difference.

He was taking things too harshly, and he knew it. To try and correct his behavior, he searched for things to say. “That is why I have been here for such a long time,” he offered.

She nodded. “Do you know your age? I mean,” she added quickly, “exactly how long you’ve been here?”

“No. But it is very, very long. I have seen… snakes, for example. I have seen many generations of snakes, as many as there are leaves on a tree, or perhaps more.”

“That’s a very long time!” she exclaimed. “Let’s see… I’ll guess a twelve-year life cycle for the snakes… a thousand leaves in a typical tree—that’s unbelievable!”

“You do not believe me again?”

“No, no, no. It’s just hard to grasp how long that is. And we—other echidnas—have never been here?”

“Never,” he said, tiring of the repetition.

She thought about it. “Why are we appearing now? Why have we been gone all this time?”

He smiled. “Those are the questions I have asked myself since you arrived.”

“In that case, I don’t think a little sleep would hurt, don’t you agree?”

He pondered for a moment. He couldn’t see a time imperative at the moment, so he nodded. “I agree.”

<><><><>

Once more he sat in the darkness. Once more, his thoughts were troubled.

The most unsettling thing for him was how easily Myla’s slight had harmed him. As long as he’d existed, he’d been immune to the depredations of others. Physically he was unmatched; he was invulnerable to poisons and toxins; the Emerald was protection enough from any spells or curses; his mind was insulated enough behind its logic and power to be immune from mental attacks. Yet here, at last, was an approach strong enough to stop him in his tracks—and she hadn’t even meant to harm him.

His first instinct was to break the connection, sever the tie, immediately! For some reason, he felt unprepared to do that. Other paths he explored came to the same conclusion: any of his approaches to reduce the relationship, or break it, involved harm to himself or to Myla. For some odd reason, one he couldn’t put his paw on, he found that unacceptable.

That was the core of his dilemma, he knew. Myla was a recurrent weakness, yet he could not bring himself to remove the weakness.

Knuckles snarled to himself. How are you supposed to guard if you have weaknesses? Any smart predator can sense weakness and seize advantage of it. The entire reason for your existence is to be unshakable, an inescapable gate keeping all from the Master. Any flaw in you gives someone the potential to release the Master’s power!

That was the one great imperative in Knuckles’ thoughts, and it carried a great deal of weight. How could he reconcile this relationship with his duties if they were contradictory premises?

For a moment the heretical thought appeared in his mind: “Make her a higher priority than the Emerald.” His thought process shut down, and he was amazed at his own boldness in thinking such a thing. It passed quickly, and Knuckles promptly erased the memory of it.

Other things clawed for his attention. His low opinion of echidnas had seemingly been confirmed; fire knows no master, and those hoodlums thought they would command it to their whims. He snorted at the memory. The disturbing part came when he realized just how wanton the act had been.

When the hoodlums had first come to the store, their destruction wasn’t entirely for the sake of destruction; they had looted what they needed. For that reason, Knuckles had fallen into his thoughts concerning self-interest—and had actually maintained a higher opinion of echidnas than they deserved. But the night’s episode went far deeper than that. There was no reason, no rationale for the destruction the echidnas were planning. It was entirely for the sake of destruction.

The implication was clear. Some echidnas were evil.

The realization chilled Knuckles to the core. He dreaded what might happen if those echidnas got anywhere near the Emerald! As soon as he thought that, alarms went off in his head.

How was it possible that a race so advanced as echidnas—capable of defying all manner of natural forces—could retain an inner urge to annihilate everything they had built?

By implication, the more power the echidnas uncovered—the more their “science” allowed them to grasp their world and bind it to their wills—the more potential for disaster they created. Knuckles knew from experience how devastating machines could be, ever since the human had torched part of the island. He was unsure just how much knowledge the echidnas had, but surely they were already strong enough to wreck the Island.

And suppose they got a hold of the Emerald!

Knuckles was in silent horror as the scenarios played out. The power of the Master, unleashed in wanton destruction upon the Island… the planet… the stars themselves!

Instantly, Knuckles directed his thoughts to the Emerald. He directed a little bit of its energy to change a switch from “off” to “on”.

Knuckles had improved upon some things he’d found. The flip of the switch completely locked down the Hidden Palace at the heart of the Island. There were now exactly two ways in, and he devoted a part of his consciousness to monitoring them constantly to check for compromise. As it was, the entrances first had to be found, then negotiated; and it was a rare being indeed that succeeded in such a task.

Autonomous defenses activated, as well, though Knuckles—as ever—expected little out of them. Any sentient creature could overcome them, as their behavior was predictable and patterned; however, they would buy time for Knuckles to return, as they’d warn him of intrusion.

Knuckles wanted to feel more secure with the knowledge of the Emerald’s protection, but the extra strain on him countered the feeling. He needed all his strength right now.

The thought of which brought him back to the subject of the girl. On the plus side, he thought, she could provide information—there was still much she knew that he did not. Besides, he wasn’t sure how to separate them yet. On the minus side, she would be another variable to consider. She had an opening to him that he would have to guard against—further straining him. And, through no fault of her own, she would be a burden in an emergency.

Somehow, despite all his reasoning, he still remained undecided.

His internal debate continued for most of the night and on almost until morning. Then came his interruption.

<><><><>

Screeeeeeeeeeech…

This was a surprise, thought Knuckles. The first change was in the morning; second time, late morning, next day; third time, late night, same day; fourth time, early morning, next day. The changes were accelerating.

Knuckles deliberated. He yearned to go out and investigate. At the same time, he needed Myla, but she needed more sleep to be truly effective. After checking to make sure the change didn’t come too close to the area around the Hidden Palace, he resumed his meditation and let her sleep.

To his horror, by sunrise, the land had changed yet again!

Too fast, Knuckles thought. I should have wakened Myla—I’m too far behind. Now I’ve got two changes to investigate, and if the next change occurs even sooner…

He rushed to find Myla.

Knuckles began putting pieces together as he shook her awake. “Wha-at?” she said.

“The land is changing again.”

“Again?” She seemed reluctant to get up, so Knuckles assisted her. He lifted her out of bed as if she weighed nothing and trotted to the outside of the store. Her struggles against him were only mild; for a second he wondered if that was from fatigue or some unknown factor.

“Yes, again,” he confirmed, “and it did so again while you were asleep.”

As he cleared the door, he set down Myla, and they looked down the road. It was hard not to, because tall, brightly growing figures were appearing.

EeeeEEEECH-RIP!

To Knuckles’ astonishment, most of the Ruins of the Sky disappeared, replaced by immense glittering pillars. Flying machines swarmed over and around them like gnats. And Knuckles mentally noted that the changing was that much closer to the Hidden Palace. Quite a bit closer, it seemed…

He looked at Myla. “What is that?”

“That’s the capitol city, Echidnaopolis. Population is thirty million or thereabouts; it’s hard to tell with so many coming and going.”

“About how many is thirty million?”

She considered. “I don’t know… maybe as many termites as live in three mounds, maybe more. See what I’m saying?”

He did. Knuckles found it hard to draw breath.

A completely unmanageable number of echidnas—a number constantly in flux, thus harder to keep track of—all of which have to be judged individually, and any of which could get the Emerald and destroy everything!

Knuckles knew what the new emotion was, even though this was the first time he’d felt it. He’d heard it described to him before: a crushing feeling that isn’t overtly forceful. It surrounds and ensnares and consumes, pressing in from all directions, the act of feeling it making it more difficult to escape.

Despair.

A horrible feeling of inadequacy pressed in on him. There was no way he could possibly manage to keep tabs on so many echidnas, let alone determine which ones had the potential for evil and required purging. And given their location and numbers, should they actually make a move for the Emerald, Knuckles was unsure what the outcome would be.

“Now why do you suppose it’s happening like this?”

Knuckles mentally sang a song of praise to Myla. Simply by breaking his train of thought, she’d managed to drag him back to functionality. He left his despair behind, concentrating on the moment and the task at hand. And on Myla.

“The amount of time between changes has decreased,” he explained. “The first time, a full day passed between changes; the second time, half a day; the third time, a quarter of a day; the fourth, half of that. Changes are coming far more quickly.”

“With each change the time between changes halves,” she said. “It’s like whatever is keeping the world as I know it out is breaking down.”

Knuckles nodded. He understood—it was as with a giant tree falling. Once a few splinters broke, the whole thing came down, increasingly unbalanced with every splinter. But his metaphor broke down—what had started all of this?

He didn’t know how to voice his opinion to Myla, so he asked instead, “Shall we go there?”

She considered, then perked up. “I know! We can tap into the NewsNets—find out if anything was happening before everyone disappeared.”

He shrugged. “Very well. I will take you to the town.”

She laughed at him. “That has another meaning,” she said as he picked her up. “Of course you don’t know it…”

“I only know “town” because of our contact.” He didn’t think it was funny, but she laughed just the same.

“I think the key to this mystery,” she said as he ran, “is that everyone is coming back from the same instant… regardless of what time it is here, they all last remember a particular moment in time. We just need to figure out why time stopped. What happened before the last moment.”

He nodded. She was right. He couldn’t think much more in depth than that, as he was quite afraid of a crash at this speed, particularly carrying Myla. He was under the grace of the Emerald, but he rather doubted she was. Her safety depended upon him.

He liked that.

<><><><>

This “Echidnaopolis” place seemed to imitate a giant blur.

Echidnas of every shape, size and description—wearing every manner of aesthetically repulsive “clothing”—wandered around in seeming mindlessness. Lights of every color in the visible spectrum shone from every possible point of purchase. Wailing sounds—Knuckles realized with a shock that some considered it music—echoed forth from every meeting point of roads. There were enormous numbers of roads here, and every one of them was covered in echidnas.

Of course, Knuckles noted with pride, there was really no way to overload his systems. He could always pick out any sound or sight or smell he so desired. The cornucopia of choices offered to him did not trump his abilities. He was thankful for that. What bothered him, rather, was that there was no way to judge the countless individuals that were swarming over and around him. Actions were the only way to judge a person’s morality, and he never saw enough of any single echidna to come to any conclusions. This irritated him to no end.

“That round building,” Myla suggested. Knuckles led her forward. He was unaware that he was violating the organized “flow” of traffic; however, given his nakedness and muscular, intimidating appearance, all echidnas were giving him a wide berth.

Once inside, Knuckles realized he had no idea what to do. Myla did, however, and walked straight for a wall. He saw that on every wall were glowing panels of light with pictures and what he recognized as words.

Myla glanced back at him, turned to the panel, and raised a paw. Knuckles couldn’t quite see what she was doing, but he supposed her paw was in her dress. The next thing he knew she had a small bag in her paw and was placing its contents into a slot in front of her.

Knuckles had no idea what any of that meant, but as soon as Myla was done an echidna appeared on the panel of light. “Hello,” it said.

“Hello,” Knuckles replied, but Myla shushed him.

“Would you like a run-down of today’s top stories, sports info, classifieds, or a search for a specific news item?”

“Run-down,” Myla said.

“Please,” added Knuckles.

Myla shook her head more, but the echidna on the panel understood. “In today’s news, our top stories are:

“One. A new study finds that species on Earth’s other seven continents may be developing sentience! Fluke, flawed study, or something to fear?

“Two. The investigation into the alleged double-dealing of the Master of the People continues. Was he in the wrong? Does anybody care? Should you care? We’ll tell you!

“Three. The latest numbers show that crime is still going up, but our poll shows people are getting more used to it. Moral complacency and you—stay tuned!”

(Knuckles mentally cursed his own species in every way he knew how. Why did he have to be related to such dangerous, insane, immoral monsters?)

“Four. This report is hot! There is a report that certain sections of Echidnaopolis are missing! More on this as it develops.

“Five. The demand for energy increases, causing rolling blackouts in some colonies. A debate has begun as to how to solve this energy problem.

“Six. Today begins a series of experiments that could change society as we know it! Learn more about the marvelous item we have discovered, the Servant Jewel.”

“That one!” Knuckles blurted.

“Why that one?” asked Myla.

He grimaced, then leaned in closer and whispered. “Whatever language an animal speaks, I can tell when he is speaking about the Master.”

“That giant jewel you told me about?” she said, whispering in return (to Knuckles’ gratitude).

“Yes. We must learn about this—especially as to why he called it the Servant Jewel.” Knuckles had a great fear about that nomenclature, but he’d wait to draw his conclusions.

Myla did something to the panel of light. The echidna stopped talking, but then began again. His words held Knuckles bound in mute terror.

“The Servant Jewel is a gigantic emerald, larger than an echidna. It was discovered only recently. When it was found at an excavation sight, scientists quickly realized that immense powers are locked inside. They theorize that if they can release this power, all of our recent problems with energy will be alleviated and any future problems will never come to pass. Given the weight of this great experiment, it will be held in the center of Echidnaopolis in the famous “Hidden Palace” laboratories. As they will require quite a bit of power, these are located directly above our primary geothermal power plants. The experiment will begin around 10 a.m. today.

“Residents are advised not to leave the capitol, as there is nothing to fear from this experiment.”

“That’s it,” whispered Myla.

“They tampered with the Master,” Knuckles said. “Somehow it removed them from time—banished them from the planet. Thus the full power of the Emerald was never unleashed.”

“But it’s begun coming back. Whatever was keeping Echidnaopolis banished has weakened, and it’s breaking down. Everything is coming back like it was.” She looked at him in horror. “Everything’s coming back thinking it’s 10 in the morning. That means the laboratory will come back at the moment they begin the experiment!”

He caught her meaning and her horror with it. “They will unleash the Emerald a second time. The damage they could render is unimaginable! They cannot control the Emerald—they proved that already. But it is a Child of Chaos; there is no way the same outcome could occur again. I feel it will be far, far worse. If the Master is unleashed, it will destroy this island and everyone on it certainly, and no one knows how much more!”

“Way too much anyway you look at it.”

He nodded. “We must return to the Hidden Palace as quickly as possible. I must join with the Master and find out how to stop this disaster. Come!”

She nodded. She grabbed her sack and returned it to its spot—down the front of her dress.

This drew Knuckles’ attention, for the first time, to her breasts.

With some effort, Knuckles stifled his reaction. He had more important things to think about! There was no way to exorcise his thoughts, but he could contain them for the time being. “Come with me,” he said, his voice betraying the struggle in his mind.

He exited the building. As he ran, he felt a paw on his shoulder. Glancing back, he saw it was Myla’s. He realized that she’d thought ahead—that contact would ensure that he knew she was there. His appreciation for her increased.

He mentally checked his distance to the Emerald. Cross-checking with the position of the sun, he soon had his exact location. He had a plan on how to get to the Hidden Palace quickly. As he looked down, however, he realized it might be harder than he thought. How could he dig through who-knew-how-deep rock?

He stopped abruptly. She ran into him, but it didn’t affect him in the least. He turned to face her. “Can we get down somehow?”

“Down where?” she said, shouting to be heard over the noise.

But Knuckles’ attention had just been diverted, for he heard someone crying, “Stop! Thief!”

Knuckles knew all about thieves, and whirled to find the one in question. There! There was an echidna, bleeding and lying prone upon the road, pointing vainly at the back of another.

No, Knuckles grimly corrected, not in vain.

He catalogued both echidnas’ appearances in a heartbeat, the launched into the air.

It was difficult, in the thick crowd, to avoid echidnas, but not insurmountable to so skilled a gymnast as Knuckles. He whirled, leapt, ran, and occasionally crashed through the crowd. To him, it was almost amusing—he was so active, moving laterally so much, yet he was gaining on the echidna in front so very quickly.

He caught the echidna before it could even get to the next intersection of roads. Caught it and ran it down. All the way down, into the ground, where the echidna’s breath burst from its lungs like the snap of a tree branch.

Knuckles ripped the stolen article—a container of sorts—out of the echidna’s hands and stood. He backed away a few steps, wanting to move away but too experienced to turn his back. The echidna got to its feet, snarling.

She—the echidna thief was a she, Knuckles noted for reference—tried to pull a knife from its clothing without being seen. Very amusing, Knuckles thought—so incompetent. She rushed him.

She ran right into his kicks.

The first one connected with her chin. The blow snapped her head up and killed her momentum. Her rush was ended, and she was stunned.

Knuckles had the advantage. He drove it home without even thinking about it. He planted the foot that had kicked, pivoted, and finished her off.

The second kick was a side kick, launched with the full energy of leg and buttocks. It hit square in the chest, between the breasts—form perfect, maximum impact. The energy was such that the blow knocked her into the air. She flew several echidna-lengths over the crowd that had gathered until she hit the side of a building.

Knuckles idly wondered how many bones he’d broken.

He turned and saw the echidna that had been robbed. He pressed the container into his hands, saying, “Take better care of it—there are few such as I,” and walked to where Myla was patiently waiting for him.

“Good job. I wish I could have helped, but you did fine. You wanted to go down?” she said.

“Yes.” The compliment, while superfluous, felt good.

She pointed. “There!” He tracked her finger to a metal circle in the middle of the road. Upon closer inspection, he saw the grips on it. Obviously they were too small for his hand, but his fingers should be able to do it.

He walked to the circle, stripping his gloves. He turned to Myla, saying “Hold these, please.” She was staring at his hands, he realized. In another moment, he realized why—she’d never seen his hands with his gloves off, and they looked—Knuckles had to admit—rather grotesque. The barbs weren’t knuckle barbs per se; they grew directly out of his paw, out of the same bones that connected to his fingers. They weren’t covered with skin, they were simply exposed bone—a jarring, dull white against his red fur. He knew that he would be repulsed, if he didn’t live with them.

Even so, she managed to grasp his gloves. That taken care of, he turned, slipped his fingers into the holds, and easily pulled the circle out. He then turned to Myla, the circle in his hands. “Shall we exchange?” he said.

Despite herself—Knuckles could see her resisting, to no avail—she laughed. He dropped the circle and took back his gloves, quickly putting them back on. “So, what are we doing?” she asked.

“Going down,” he said. He noticed that, although most echidnas were staying far away from him, three echidnas dressed alike were headed purposefully in his direction. Rather than risk a conflict with more of what he guessed to be hoodlums, he dropped into the hole.

He was absolutely correct in his knowledge of where he was and what he was in; he was absolutely wrong in his guessing what it would be like. For this was—he saw it, reassuringly, marked on the wall—the Hydrocity Inc system.

And, by the Master, it stank!

Even though he wasn’t in the main waterway—he was standing on a service pathway above it—the stench abused his sense of smell worse than any natural stench he encountered under normal circumstances. It smelled like concentrated dung, though he wasn’t quite sure why that would be.

Knuckles toned-down his nose nerves quite a bit as he called back to Myla, “Come! Hurry!”

She dropped in; he made sure to catch her. She obviously hated the smell as much as he did. “Phew! Why are we in the sewer?”

“It is the fastest way,” he replied, “and normally it does not smell like this.”

“Normally in your world, right?”

“Yes. Not in this world. Hold on to my shoulders,” he said. “This path will lead to where I am familiar. Then we will be able to get to the Hidden Palace.”

He ran down the pathway at a moderate speed, carefully watching his footing, until he came to a brighter area. He knew, internally, that he was getting very much closer to the center of the island; that showed in the sudden shift in the Hydrocity Inc’s look. Luminous fungi, cultivated by Knuckles, kept the area fairly well-lit, while the pathways were far cleaner. Unfortunately, the water was not; the water from the city’s sewer had flown down here and contaminated the normally crisp water below. Nevertheless, the smell was far less revolting than before.

Knuckles found what he was looking for: a small carved wooden thing, floating in the water. Knuckles referred to it as a bark, for it was hollow; it seemed to him like bark without a tree.

Knuckles rarely, if ever, used it, as he preferred to run. In this case, though, he realized it offered numerous advantages, not the least of which was a chance to release the Emerald and ease the strain on his mind. Under the circumstances, he found this appealing.

The bark was large enough to hold them both, as Knuckles pointed out to Myla. Soon they were both in the bark, floating down the deceptively swift current, headed for the center of the island.

In this moment of relaxation, Knuckles’ mental barriers came down. Instantly, his thoughts ran wild. The lot of them was trumped by the single thought from earlier.

The notice of Myla’s anatomy.

He shivered, for the intensity of the incident had not decreased for its long imprisonment. Feelings and emotions never before experienced flooded his whole body. He blocked them from escaping, holding himself from acting or saying anything, but the thoughts lost none of their energy. Rather, without outlet, they rattled around in his skull, crashing about like an angry terrapod in a small cave.

This condition only intensified given the situation—they were alone in close quarters; he could feel her very breath upon him! That cold breath contrasted with the warmth of her body’s heat, and the combination at this range was driving his mind out of control.

Knuckles caught a common thread, something all of these sensations had in common in either origin or purpose.

An urge to reproduce.

It shocked Knuckles—not for its obscenity, for that meant nothing to him, but in its audacity.

How could he possibly do such a thing?

A sudden physiological response gave him a pretty good idea of “how”, but he distastefully stuffed the response—that hadn’t been what he’d meant! His dilemma was more in the fact that the Master had neither prepared him for such an eventuality as this nor given instructions on how to handle it.

The Master was not intelligent. This Knuckles knew; for all the knowledge contained inside it, there were very few constructive things the Master had ever done with that knowledge. However, Knuckles’ first memories were of receiving knowledge from the Master—all the sorts of knowledge he would need to defend it. No, not receiving; more like requesting. His memory began with the imperative to guard the Emerald, and he began asking questions of it. Questions it could handle; but it had no initiative of its own.

For that reason, he’d never had any knowledge concerning… whatever it was he was feeling now.

Attraction. Lust. Caring. Powerful emotions he’d never known.

Internally, he cursed yet again. He hated how she could produce such weakness in him!

And all of it because of a single moment in which he’d let his guard down!

He tried desperately to seek some kind of order to his thoughts. Myla did have several appealing characteristics, he admitted to himself—good intelligence, high morality, and (he noted quite hesitantly) some aesthetic appeal. If he were to choose a mate, he could do far worse.

But it was a weakness! A soft spot for Myla opened up avenues for attacks into him. Myla was not as strong as he; she would be a liability. He could see his attentions being split by a clever enemy. And if she were somehow corrupted, an attacker would have an easy way to strike at Knuckles—and thereafter the Emerald.

Yet there were other factors that he—against his better judgement—had to include in his assessment. Would he be weaker without her? Furthermore, what did SHE think about the situation?

In this situation, he relied upon Myla to help him grasp the world of echidnas. So, if she were to die suddenly, he would be weaker already. However, her presence was beneficial for more than her purposes as liaison; it seemed to balm him, to comfort him and aid him. It was hard to accept this; he’d hardly realized it as it happened, and he didn’t want to believe it.

He had always felt better when he acted alone. He knew himself, and he knew he was reliable; he made no mistakes in judging his own capabilities. Somehow, ever since he’d met Myla, he’d concentrated on justifying his need to be alone. As he reviewed the past, in many cases he’d rejected her help and had looked for reasons to reject her. He’d degraded her to justify his solitary condition. He was no better than the echidnas that closed their doors to their neighbors.

And yet she had helped him. Even when she’d done nothing at all, her presence was both soothing and invigorating. To his astonishment, he felt that this, too, was desirable, almost necessary.

He had a hard time trying to project what his life without her would be like.

And he felt something—quite apart from the simple mechanics of mating, but tied to it—an emotion or mix of emotions somehow even more powerful than the brute urge to reproduce. It had existed for some time, his biology had ignited it, but it was there just the same and apart from biology.

Just as mating was the act of joining between creatures, so was this emotion the manifestation of the very real bond between him and Myla.

He could feel it! Elusive and immaterial it was, but as real as the bark beneath him, and strong as a burst of chaos energy.

The thought frightened him. Yet at the same time, it was very exciting. And that alone set him on edge.

There was one more unknown in his calculations. What did she think about him, their situation, or anything for that matter. He could not guess her thoughts; there wasn't even a way to tell if she felt back any of what he felt towards her.

He took that back. There was a way: ask her directly. However, Knuckles found that solution absolutely unacceptable-- for reasons he could not describe, even to himself.

He didn't want to make any conclusions now. This was good, as he felt that any conclusion would do more harm than good. Besides, it meant she would be with him a bit longer, at least. That notion had assumed unusual importance in his mind, but he had not the heart to fight it.

<><><><>

Before the bark got to the water purification plants that were the true heart of the Hydrocity Inc, Knuckles and Myla got out. He led her towards one of the many exits, knowing that the next part of their journey would be even less pleasant than the initial drop into the Hydrocity Inc. He said to her, “This will be quite hot, but follow me. Stay close! This is the fastest way to the Hidden Palace, but it is intentionally dangerous.”

She obviously was not overly enthusiastic, but before Knuckles could change his mind she waved at him. “Go on! We do have a time limit, right?”

“Right,” he said, recovering badly. With that, he pushed through the door.

Whoosh!

A blast of hot air rushed past him, forcing him to close his eyes. Myla gave a short cry of surprise, but when he looked back at her, she was determined to follow him.

Knuckles looked forward, wondering how he was going to proceed with her to handicap him. For this was the Lava Reef, and it was designed to be hazardous.

He checked the temperature. Quite a bit above his normal body temperature, he noted; if he could have shed, he would have. The heat impaired both movement and vision. The ground was rock, very uneven; over time he’d beaten some of it into a rough path. The path led through the various caverns and chambers all around the volcano. They were evidence that echidnas had made some sort of building there, as machinery and controls were in many places, but its functionality was gone and wouldn’t have mattered to Knuckles in the first place. Rather, they gave Knuckles a splendid chance to booby-trap one of the two main routes to the Emerald. All of them, however, were dangerously close the mighty volcano; even now, he had but to jump to the top of the path and he would be able to see the lake of lava that gave the area its name.

On second thought, he’d given it its name, but he’d named it after the lava.

“This must be the geothermal power plants,” Myla said as she stayed with him.

He kept a paw firm on hers, clamping it to his shoulder. “What?”

“We get electricity from the heat of the Earth,” she explained. “But… if it’s been away from the Earth for so long, how is it still so hot?”

“The Emerald,” he said simply. “The lava protects the Emerald. I had to set it up, but the Emerald’s power is more than enough to keep the lava hot.”

“Makes sense,” she said, gritting her teeth.

Knuckles recognized the area they were in. He slowed his walk to a crawl until he felt the ground beneath him tremble; then he took an Emerald-assisted leap out of the way, pulling Myla with him.

Behind him, a few stones broke out of their places, and a geyser of superheated air blew upwards.

It was operating perfectly, he noted with an odd mix of satisfaction and resentment. That blast of heat would have ignited flesh. To be caught in it would be certain, all-but-instant death.

“Lovely place,” said Myla, coughing. That sarcasm thing again, thought Knuckles, proud of himself that he’d caught it quickly.

He led her further down the winding path towards the entrance to the Hidden Palace. Similar booby-traps led to several close calls, though the sentries Knuckles could dismiss with naught but a thought.

As they approached the bottom of the volcano, they came upon one of the last few defenses. “Please say you’re not serious,” was all Myla could say.

“I am,” Knuckles replied sadly. “We must cross this part of the lava.”

He moved on to explain how this would work. He did not relish it; even with his time to prepare, there was no good way to explain it. As a rule, he avoided this way unless absolutely necessary.

“We are standing above the lava bed, and we must reach the other side. You see the platforms between us and the other side—they are how we will get there, by jumping from platform to platform. However, the platforms are unstable. If we land too much on one side or the other, the platform will tip.”

“And dump us into the lava,” she concluded.

“Exactly.”

“How are you planning for us to do this?”

“I will hold you firmly. We will both jump, together, but holding each other for balance.”

The only real way, he thought. If they went individually, he was all but guaranteeing her death.

She looked down. “That’s a huge fall! Can we make it?”

It was several echidna lengths from safety to the platform, but the platform would “give” a bit upon their landing. “Yes.”

“You hope.”

“That, too.” They closed together, then, on Knuckles’ command, jumped.

Right into a veritable wall of heat.

As hot as it had been before, standing so close to the lava felt as if the heat was boiling his blood away.

Sill, it wouldn’t matter how he felt if he’d missed. He looked down.

There—whump!

They safely made it.

Myla grimaced. “One down—nine to go!” Her throat rasped from the heat, and her eyes watered profusely. Knuckles’ eyes were, too, and it was making it difficult for him to judge distances. He knew it in his mind—or so he hoped; his eyes weren’t helping much.

“Jump… jump… jump!”

And… whump!

NO!

As they landed, Knuckles felt Myla going forward—she’d botched the landing! It happened too fast—Knuckles lost his grip!

She stumbled forward—one step—two steps—she was trying to stop…

The platform dipped forward ever so slightly.

“AAIEEE!!”

Knuckles was already moving. He jumped on the other side of the platform as hard as he could. His end nearly flipped over, catapulting Myla back towards safety. As soon as he landed, Knuckles had launched himself into the air. He and Myla connected in the air.

They landed in the middle of the first platform.

Immediately alarms went off. Knuckles had all but forgotten about those—if one of the platforms tipped—

No time to think about that! Without a second thought he threw Myla back up to safety. Even as he threw, the platform began to sink—rather, the lava began to rise.

Knuckles hurled himself up towards the beginning. Myla’s paw appeared at the last second; he grasped it and used it as leverage to drive his other paw into the wall. With that, he easily scrambled over the top.

With a little time now, Myla let loose a horrible cry of pain. “Aiiieee!”

Without hesitation Knuckles placed his hands over her ankles. He performed the only method of healing he knew—raw empathy. He absorbed some of her wounds and pain unto himself.

Now that he felt it, Knuckles realized why she was screaming so hard. He joined the discordant chorus with a huge bellow of pain.

They screamed for several long moments—so long Myla actually blacked out, and Knuckles approached the brink of joining her.

However, his healing had worked. His own body rapidly healed the wounds he introduced from her, thus allowing him to absorb more of her pain. Slowly, ever so slowly, the pain subsided.

As he let go of her ankles, he kneeled beside her and held her close to him. He felt many things—some his own, such as his compassion, but through his empathy many of hers, as well.

Her emotions were new to him, and strong. He felt them as if they were his own, closer to her than ever before. Through it all, however, the chief thing on his mind was an overwhelming gratitude that she was alive at all.

At last able to do so, he looked back down at his feet. The lava had splashed him as he’d fled it. To his surprise, it’d only melted through the bottom of his shoes—no “real” damage had been done.

It simply hurt beyond compare.

Sometimes being the guardian of the Emerald was no fun at all.

Myla stirred against his chest. He looked down at her with great affection.

And sometimes it was.

“I hope that wasn’t the only way into Hidden Palace,” she whispered.

Despite the heat, Knuckles’ spine froze solid. The mission! He’d all but forgotten in the rush to get them out of danger and out of pain!

She laughed lightly. “Don’t worry, I’ll be ready in a moment or two. Whatever you did really helped.” She looked at him suddenly. “You really like me, don’t you?”

Knuckles was helpless to respond.

“Your empathy works both ways,” she said. “Your mind is so structured… is that how you’re able to guard so effectively?”

He was still unable to speak, but managed a nod.

“You really do—“ she looked up at him in surprise, then stood.

Knuckles had no way to know what she was looking at or feeling; he tried to read into her with empathy but found nothing solid, just confusion. Then she turned back towards the path. “We have to hurry, right? What’s the other way in?”

“Through the Ruins of the Sky,” he said, able to react when it had to do with protecting the Emerald. “This way.”

<><><><>

When they emerged from the volcano, they found that the land had changed again in their absence; but even as Knuckles got his bearing, the land changed yet again.

“The time between changes is accelerating further,” he said. “We must move!”

All around them Echidnaopolis reappeared. Knuckles led her as they cut through the crowd. They ran as lightly as possible—Myla was no longer hurt badly, and Knuckles could stifle his pain, but it was still a struggle for both of them.

They soon found the fault point between old and new, and there Knuckles stopped. “What is it?” asked Myla.

“That tower,” he said, “is supposed to be my way up to the Ruins of the Sky. But it has changed! Look.” He pointed to a ruin. “That is where I must go, but its connection to that tower,” pointing to a building, “is inaccessible.”

“We’ll do it the hard way, then,” said Myla. “All of these towers have elevators—devices that send you up or down. We’ll use the elevator to get to the top.”

“And then we will hope the Emerald doesn’t abandon us,” Knuckles said with a wry voice. “Let us go, then!”

They ran to the door. It was locked, but Knuckles solved the problem with his barbs.

Knuckles could see a row of closed doors, with many echidnas around them. That, obviously, was where the elevators would come. However, in his way was a barrier with a very perturbed echidna sitting behind, glaring at them.

Even as Knuckles tried to go around, Myla in tow, the echidna shouted, “Halt!”

“What is it?” asked Myla.

“Your nudie there is wanted by the police! He just tore up our door, and according to my files…” he glanced down at something, “he’s wanted on counts of assault and indecent exposure!”

Knuckles glanced at her. “Do we have time for that?”

“That’s a definite ‘no’.”

“Fine.” Knuckles turned back. “I am afraid the police will have to wait. I am too busy right now.” The echidna gaped at him, so Knuckles took that as his signal to leave. He grabbed Myla and they ran around the barrier to the elevators.

One had just arrived. Knuckles and Myla plowed through the crowd and entered the elevator. The other echidnas quickly backed away. As the doors closed, Knuckles saw several echidnas dressed alike entering the building.

“Were those police?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“What “assault” were they referring to? Did he mean that the police think I did wrong by hunting down that thief?”

Myla tried to hide her face. “I’m pretty sure that’s what he meant.”

Just as Knuckles was readying to communicate his disgust to Myla, the elevator, with a jerk, suddenly stopped its upward motion. Inertia threw the echidnas about, but they quickly recovered. “They’re going to try and get to us while we’re stuck here!” said Myla. “Knuckles, punch through the ceiling!”

He saw where she was pointing—a kind of grate was on top of the elevator. Knuckles crouched, called upon the Emerald, and jumped.

He smashed through the grate in an instant and landed on top of the elevator. He reached back down and pulled Myla out. Now standing on top, he looked around. “Now what?”

The elevator shaft around was unsettling. Its darkness hurt Knuckles’ reckoning of how large the shaft was, but he felt it safe to assume it was enormous. He just hated seeing neither floor nor ceiling.

Myla looked around. “Hey! There! Another elevator’s coming up! We can get on to that, right?”

Knuckles checked the distance, but it was coming up so fast he had no time. He chose.

There was a sickening feeling as they fell, but it was over almost instantly when he hit the top of the other elevator. “Are you all right?” he asked Myla. When she nodded, he tore the grate off of the elevator and dropped inside.

The other echidnas in the elevator backed away, but Knuckles hardly noticed them, as he was concentrating on catching Myla. He caught her when she dropped and set her down.

“Don’t mind us,” said Myla as she pushed a button in the wall. “We’re just headed for the top.”

The elevator slowed, and when the doors opened, all the other echidnas swiftly piled out.

“They do not like us, do they?”

“It’s not every day a nudie and a girl drop in through the top of an elevator. Of course, none of this situation is normal, but you still can’t expect that they’d like us suddenly appearing.”

They reached their destination without further ado. When the doors opened, Knuckles and Myla were not on the roof; rather, they were on the top floor below the roof.

Knuckles looked out. “There! I see our destination. This tower is above the ruin I need to get to—I can reach it from here!”

Myla smiled. “Good luck, Knuckles.”

He was confused. “Good luck?”

“It’s a saying. I hope you save the world.”

She thought he would leave her behind! Knuckles had never considered such a thing. “I will not leave you behind,” he said firmly.

“But there’s no way you can get us both over there!” she protested. “You may be able to reach, but not carrying me. Besides,” she said, and for a moment she paused. “Besides, I’m… afraid. I couldn’t handle it…”

Part of Knuckles’ mind was amazed at what he now did; the rest was glad that he’d finally done something. He walked close to her and put a hand on her cheek, rubbing her lips with his thumb. “Listen to me,” he commanded. “I need you to come with me. I will not leave you behind. And neither will I let any harm befall you. You, at the least, will be safe. But I could not proceed without you.”

She was speechless for a moment, then embraced Knuckles. His heart flipped inside his chest. “Thank you,” he said to her.

He turned and walked to the glass barrier between him and the outside. She slipped her hands under his armpits and crossed them, bracing herself to him.

Stuffing his own emotions, Knuckles said, “I am going, now… now… now!”

Crash!

Glass blew out all around Knuckles—beautiful, in a way, had he not been far too busy to appreciate it.

He was past the falling glass by now. His full concentration was devoted to summoning the Emerald’s energy. It supported him as he glided through open space towards his destination.

He was falling ever so slowly! There was nothing he could do about it, though, for try as he might he could get no more energy out of the Emerald.

His body was fully extended—back straight, arms forward, legs behind him—the posture he used when the Emerald was supporting his body weight. Myla’s body was pressed against his, but that made things easier, for by supporting his body he supported both of them.

The distance between him and the ruin closed, ever so slowly. Thirty echidna-lengths… twenty-five echidna lengths… It was so hard to tell if he’d miss the top!

A supremely loud voice shook him. He lost his concentration!

The air was whipping by him. He was in free-fall!

He fell several echidna-lengths before he recovered and extended his body. He looked angrily to where the sound had come from. It was a machine, floating nearby him. Echidnas dressed as police were inside.

The loud voice spoke again. “What are you doing?”

Knuckles hadn’t the time or energy to respond, so he ignored the query and continued on. It was clear now that he would miss the top of the ruin, but not by much.

Closer… closer… there!

He drove his knuckle-barbs into the ruin. As he did, the Emerald’s power fled from him, and his body slammed against the wall.

With difficulty—made worse by his carrying Myla—he crawled, hand over hand, towards the top of the ruin. The weight seemed to be tearing his arms out of their sockets, but he pressed on regardless.

When at last he reached the top he felt exhausted—he’d done quite a bit so far today! He prepared to pull some energy from the Emerald, but as he looked up, he saw some police.

He finished hauling both himself and Myla over the edge. “What’s this all about?” said Myla at the police.

“He’s wanted on charges,” said one of the police. “Assault, indecent exposure, and two counts of vandalism!”

Knuckles couldn’t help but laugh. “Some hoodlums trash a store and the police do not care, Myla, but I stop a thief and it is “assault”!”

“Tell it to the judge!” barked one of the police.

Knuckles nodded at Myla. She understood. “Sorry, pal, but we’re a little busy saving the world. Why don’t you chill out a bit?”

Thunk! One of the police stumbled backwards, then fell.

The other police glanced at his partner. Knuckles aimed his second rock right at his temple.

Thunk! At such high speeds, the rocks were enough. The second police collapsed to the ground.

With the threat eliminated, Knuckles and Myla scrambled to their feet. He led the way. “What are we looking for?” she asked.

“There it is!” said Knuckles. He pointed at a purple orb, surrounded by mechanical apparatus. “We can use this to appear in the Hidden Palace!” He went to the base, quickly configuring it to do what he wished.

“A teleport orb!” said Myla. “There are only, I think, three of these!”

“I use them all,” said Knuckles.

“But they’re not safe for people to use!”

Screeeeeee…

They looked around. Time had caught them!

“The land is changing! Come!”

He leapt upon the orb. She hesitated just a moment, then moved to join him.

Light shone about them, and not just from the changing land; the teleport orb was powering up. Myla leapt into Knuckles’ arms. Knuckles held Myla tightly, and she did the same.

Mere moments before the land changed, the light around them grew to blinding proportions.

And then… nothing.

Total nothingness.

<><><><>

There was light.

Nothing existed outside of the light; all was light.

Except for a little voice that cried, “I am!”

“I am!”

“I AM!”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Knuckles began to separate himself from the light. He was able to see what was “Knuckles” and what was light. Once he made the distinction, the separation was complete.

Myla was still in his arms. He opened his eyes. The light, though still very bright, was beginning to dim. But Myla was taking longer to recover.

Affectionately, and also to draw her back, he caressed her with his hands. She stirred and finally awoke.

“We are here,” he said. “The Hidden Palace.”

It wasn’t the Hidden Palace as Knuckles knew it. The walls were metal, as opposed to the luminous stones he preferred, and machine-parts were all over the room he and Myla were in; but there was no mistaking the presence of the Master, and Knuckles felt that clearly and strongly.

Knuckles’ anxiety roared to great levels. How far did the change go? If it went all the way to the Emerald chamber…

“This way!” he said. He felt Myla right behind him as he dashed. The layout was the same as he knew, much to his relief. He led her down a winding corridor, ever closer to the objective that was all but reeling him in.

“Hey! You! Stop!”

Voices behind! Knuckles analyzed it. He was running out of time, and whoever told him to stop was probably contacting more of those police. It wouldn’t be worth it to turn and deal with that voice. He plowed onwards, ignoring the shouts.

The corridor took a sharp turn, and almost before Knuckles could react, he was ramming in to two more police!

Almost.

He completed the ramming motion into his echidna. He ducked low and caught the stomach between his shoulder and neck. With the energy of his legs, he lifted the echidna off its feet and planted it against the wall.

To his happy surprise, Myla copied Knuckles’ motion. In each case, the police echidnas were completely incapacitated. Knuckles and Myla stepped back, letting the police fall to the floor.

“There is not supposed to be a door here!” said Knuckles.

“There they are!”

More police echidnas, Knuckles knew. Myla turned to him. “You take the police, I’ll handle the door!”

Knuckles decided to take her advice. The door was too strong for him to bash through; if she knew a way in, she wouldn’t need his help.

As the police rounded the corner, Knuckles ambushed them. Two were down immediately, the texture of Knuckles’ shoe imprinted on their faces.

Knuckles was in his element. His body was fluid, gliding about, unstoppable. The police just couldn’t react fast enough. A chop to one, it blacked out. He grabbed another’s shoulders, spun about, and launched it against the wall. He didn’t even stay to see if it landed; he’d backflipped over and behind another police and brought his hands down on its head.

As that body fell, he catapulted into motion again. He struck at a police so hard in the forehead that it went down, despite the fact that it was an open-handed blow. A backhand to a police on his right swung his body that way; he swung back to the left at very high velocity and kicked yet another across the room.

The final police had a clear shot and rose a tube-like weapon. Knuckles reached out to it. As he suspected, it was a heat-and-light weapon, the sort he’d heard called “blasters”. He clamped his hand down on the end of it. The police fired; the energy dissipated harmlessly against Knuckles’ glove.

He smiled. That was exactly the sort of thing he’d made those gloves for. He ripped the blaster out of the police’s hands and delivered a powerful kick to the chin. The kick lifted thee echidna off of its feet. While it was suspended in the air Knuckles hit it with an open-fist blow. So strong was this blow that it blew the echidna down the hall some seven echidna-lengths.

Satisfied, Knuckles jogged back to Myla, daintily stepping over bodies. She said, “What took you? No, just kidding. I think I’ve got the door—had to access the manual override. Hold on!”

Knuckles had nothing to hold on to, but it proved moot as the door slid open. The two echidnas passed through.

There, on its pedestal, was the largest gem in the world. It radiated some of its unthinkable power in the form of light, bright light. The swirling energies beneath the surface produced a hypnotic effect that, though pleasing, dulled and deluded the mind. Its beauty was great, its power greater.

And its danger greater still.

For this was the Master Emerald.

Knuckles saw that this one room had not changed, but he knew that would be temporary at best. He ran towards the Master.

Quickly stripping his gloves, he pressed his hands against the surface. As always, it was cold to the touch, and shocked Knuckles a moment. Myla pressed her hands against it, as well, before Knuckles could say anything.

The experience was unparalleled. The poor empathy Knuckles had been capable of before has a passing contact compared to this.

His mind and Myla’s touched directly. He fell into her thoughts and memories, and felt her do the same.

He had no time for this!

It took all of his control to cease reveling in the sensations and drag himself back to the task at hand.

“Myla,” he thought, “we must do our duty!”

“Yes,” she thought back, mastering the technique in an instant. “Master, what happened when the echidnas last touched your power?”

They hurled themselves into another dimension.

The voice in Knuckles’ mind was overwhelmingly powerful; it reminded him of another reason why he called it the Master.

“What kept them there?” Myla asked tentatively.

The Chaos Energy they unleashed.

“Why did they start coming back?”

When the Children of Chaos were removed, the connection to the dimensional barrier broke. The barrier began to come down. This process ends today.

“Of course!” thought Knuckles. “Recently there was an incursion unlike any I have known. A metallic army and its human leader arrived here. For a brief time they stole the Master.”

“Without the Master to maintain the barrier, it broke!” Myla thought. “Master, is it possible to return the echidnas to that other dimension?”

Yes. To do so would take time.

“How much time?”

Half of one standard day.

“We don’t have that time!” Knuckles’ thoughts were shrill, but he hardly noticed.

“Master, is it possible to stop the return process?”

No, but it can be slowed to a high degree. It would require all of an echidna’s concentration to do so.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Since our minds are as one, yes. And no, I do not like it.”

“Why not? It’s the only way out.”

Knuckles tried to think carefully, but Myla stole the words right out of his head. “Because it would be painful?”

“Extremely.” Might as well be straightforward now, he thought, forgetting she could hear him. “To gain the kind of control with these powers you need to do this, the Emerald would first have to make you a guardian. Otherwise, you cannot control the Master, and its power is simply released—killing you and destroying much.

“The only way to avoid this is to become a guardian. It will limit your access to the Master, but increase your control. However, to do this, the Master will have to re-forge your mind and body, bind you to itself, and ensure a certain purity. All this will hurt you greatly—and if you were to pull away, or try to stop it… you would die.”

“And you don’t want me to die.”

“No. You matter too much to me.”

“Knuckles, it’s very touching. It’s the best anyone’s ever thought about me. But taking this risk is the only way to stop the return. We can’t love one another very well if we’re dead, can we?”

Before Knuckles could answer, the room around began to glow. Instantly Knuckles reached deep into the Emerald, digging deep, scraping up as much power as he could. Then he lashed out with it all, searching for the barrier. His normal senses were useless, but he could follow the lines of the Emerald’s power. There! The barrier to the other world was collapsing, but Knuckles threw his concentration into its maintenance.

The mental exhaustion came upon him immediately. He’d used the Emerald often recently, and this was the most extreme use of it in a very long time. The combination fatigued him almost instantly.

He was about to release when he remembered what it was he was doing—that to release it would be to destroy everything.

It was quite a motivator.

Even as he struggled, he felt a powerful backlash of pain. It wasn’t his pain, though its intensity almost deceived him. Her pain! Myla!

She was allowing the Emerald to remake her!

No! he thought, helplessly.

“Knuckles.” The voice in his head was hers. “It’s the only way. It’s what I wanted.”

Pain! Knuckles felt like his body was melting. His control over the barrier was threatening to fall—his concentration was diverted.

She would die! And there was nothing Knuckles could do about it!

“Help me, Knuckles.”

How?! he thought, struggling through the pain and fatigue. His body was shaking, but he didn’t notice at all; his body might as well have not existed. How can I help you?

“Don’t regret.”

He stalled for a moment, surprised. Then he gave himself in. He embraced Myla’s mind with his own. His concentration remained upon maintaining the barrier, but he was with Myla.

Myla was no longer at risk of dying from releasing the Emerald. Knuckles was with the Emerald, and she was bound to Knuckles. And Knuckles was no longer at risk of losing his control over the barrier. To lose that, he would have had to withdraw his consciousness, and his was bound to Myla’s. They held tight, refusing to release each other.

They shared the pain and fatigue as his mind wore down and her body burned.

And they did not regret.

<><><><>

In the end, the Master’s calculation was wrong. It had estimated that repairing the barrier would take half a day.

It took not half of that.

<><><><>

Knuckles, Savior of Echidnas, Guardian of the Master Emerald, sat back to back with his mate and partner, Myla, Conscience of Echidnas, also Guardian of the Master Emerald.

His eyes were shut, but his other senses reveled in her proximity—the soft touch of skin and skin, her sweet aroma, the gentle rhythm of her breathing.

As a ritual, he flickered his consciousness over the island. As usual, nothing was out of the ordinary. Never in the past did he think such words would be so pleasant.

She stirred against him. “Knuckles,” she said.

“Yes?”

“If all the echidnas were tossed into another dimension, how is it that you were here?”

He shrugged. “I have no memory of it, but I asked the Emerald. It told me that I had just come into the world then, that I was being born just as the experiment began. Because I was only partly born, I was spared—like the towers and forests, I remained even as the Echidnas disappeared.”

“So you’ve never seen echidnas being born?” she said coyly.

“No,” he replied, suspicious.

“You will,” she said. “Soon, you will.”

Knuckles felt the great surge of emotion within him. He’d only ever felt it since Myla had returned, but he hadn’t known its name. Fortunately, when he’d asked, Myla had told him. It was a good name.

It was called “love”.

<><><><>

FIN
<><><><>

Disclaimer (the unfortunate necessity)

This story contains characters and situations the author “borrowed” from other sources. These would be one or more of the following: SEGA, Archie Comics, and Dic. The author makes no claim that these are his own inventions and vehemently denies that he will ever use them for profit. However, this story is copyrighted by Sam Durbin, a.k.a. Bryon Nightshade, and is bound by all applicable laws and statutes.

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