Time within Time a. The Ebbing Tide b. The Electric Storm - Patrick Stewart/Rick Wakeman/Fraser Thorneycroft-Smith/Phil Williams/Simon Hanson/London Symphony Orchestra/David Snell/English Chamber Choir/Guy Protheroe, Rick Wakeman, David Snell

The ebbing tide eventually carried them onto a small island strewn with giant

turtle shells, on the far

side of which a narrow strait of water flowed.

This, the final gulf between them and the subterranean mainland.

The island appeared alive, as geysers of hot steams forced their way through

crevasses in the salacious

sandstone, creating hot springs wherever the ground had sunk to form natural

basins.

They watched in fascination as plumes of vapour rose majestically into their

air, creating heavily-laden

clouds from which each returning droplet assumed the prismatic colours of the

rainbow.

As the warm humid air gently eased the paint of their aching limbs,

the tree weary travellers fell exhausted

to the ground, where they slept.

As they slept, dreamed of the world they were now part of.

A world within a world.

Time within time.

A dream within dreams.

b.

THE ELECTRIC STORM

They were awakened by the noise of an electric storm.

The waves had destroyed their raft and the sea was a raging torrent,

racing at great speed along the

strait, which now took on the appearance of rapids.

Each talking refuge inside one of the giant turtle shells, their chanses of

survival lessened by each

passing second as hughe waves swept them along the narrow strait toward an

enormous gaping black hole,

into which the anguished water poured at an alarming rate.

All around them forked streaks of lighting plunged and attacked in every

direction, some of which

metamorphosed into globes of fire, which, for inexplicable reasons beyond their

understanding, began to

chase the turtle shells as they plunged violently, one by one, into the black

hole.

After falling for what seemed an eternity, they were suddenly shot sideways at

terrific velocity into

a tunnel which had barely enough room to spare between the shell and the

ceiling above their heads.

Although they were many languages beneath the earth’s crust, the tunnel behind

them was bathed in

white blinding light, as, despite their being given both guidance and

propulsion of great speed by the rapid

flow of water, the globes od fire had chosen the same route.

The chase was on as they prepared for the ride of their lives.