The following is a teaser for a novel I never finished.

After accidentally creating a virus that catalyzes the rapid evolution of the human genome, Dr. Nikola Woolf is metamorphosing into a fifth dimensional being. In this scene, she has involuntarily traveled to another universe.

I was in some kind of palace. Light from the setting sun reflected off golden pillars, blinding my sight. I glanced down, to relieve my burning eyes, and noticed a mosaic of stones, lapis lazuli, turquoise, jade, and obsidian. My feet were barefoot on the cold tile. I stepped into a shadowy corner of the room, and whispered, “Where am I?”

A man walked pass me, and approached the sunlight. He was spectacular in a gown of golden threads. He dropped to one knee, and as he bowed his head, I saw her. “My queen,” he said.

The single throne must have been at least twenty feet in height. It was made of gold, mahogany, lion skins, and tortoise shell. It was occupied by a woman, adorned with jewelry and makeup. She was a brilliant sight, captivating, gorgeous, but there was something menacing about her.

“Where is my son?” Her voice echoed throughout the room.

The man stood. “Your majesty, the Roman army is at the gate. Octavius is on his way here, right now.”

 “I said, where is my son?”

The man tensed with hesitation. I felt my throat constricting. “Queen Cleopatra, please. We are going to die. Our numbers are small and we cannot hold the gate for long. Please speak to Octavius and ask him to spare us.”

There was a suspended moment. Anxiety, fear, rage, and hope seemed to dance around a surreal carrousel. All of the multiverse was revolving around this moment. Whatever the queen decided would ripple throughout all parallel universes. Finally, the queen said, “Charmion, do you still consider me a friend?”

The man nodded. “Of course. Since we were children, you have been my best friend, Cleo. I love you. My queen, you have changed since.”

“Do you mean, since Octavius murdered my husband, stole my son’s birthright, and corrupted my soldiers? Yes, I have changed. Octavius is poised to destroy our sacred city, and you are asking me to bow before this filthy pig?”

Charmion cast his eyes to the floor. “I am begging you, my queen.”

“It shall never happen.”

I felt a storm brewing under Cleopatra’s skin. But she didn’t seem to move, and her voice was calm and confident. “Where, Charmion, is my son?”

I heard a voice from across the hall, the sound of footsteps. A young man stepped into the sunlight. I noticed his jawline, wide and definite. It was identical to his father’s. In that moment, I had a flash of recollection. I saw the young man’s birth, in a desert hot spring. I caught a flash of his first steps, walking to the arms of his father. I saw him, Julius Caesar, his face shape-shifted into that of… Kelly.

The boy was my son.

The young man held his chin up. His hazel eyes were honey in the setting sunlight. “I am here, Mother.

Confusion stole over me, first Virginia, now Cleopatra? This was a past life regression, surely. No, I could not have been these historical figures. There was another explanation.

The queen relaxed in her throne. I felt her exhale. “Caesarian, come.” Cleopatra’s voice was soft, like the white rose petals, from which Caesarian’s first bed was made. Her firstborn was her favorite.

The young man approached the throne. His heart longed to rush into his mother’s arms and adorn her with hugs and kisses. Instead, he forced himself to stand still, like a man. Caesarian clenched his fists and flexed his chest, back, and arms. He had been training with the Roman soldiers, and he wanted his mother to see that he was a man. It was his time to come of age. He felt ready. “Mother, I wish to sacrifice myself to Octavius.”

Cleopatra chuckled. “That shall never happen.” Now she was moving freely.

“Please listen. I never wanted to be dictator of Rome. I do not care for what Caesar did or did not do. All I wanted was to be here in Alexandria with you. I never wanted it to go this far. I do not wish for more bloodshed on my behalf. I will go to Octavius and ask him to cease the war.”

“Caesarian, my son.”

“Please, Mother. You said that I was destined to be great. You told me to behave like royalty. I believe this is what a regent should do for his country. Mother, do you see, this is why I practiced the Latin tongue, and I studied the Roman religion, and the Roman law. Not because I wanted to be like Caesar, but because I am a Roman. If Rome would murder their own kind, as they did my father, then I would be honored to die for Egypt.

“Mother, let Octavius take me back to Rome, let me be his prize, and let the city be spared. Or we shall all be dead by morning.”

I watched as Charmion held his tongue, and Cleopatra went inside herself. Another decision was to be made. The queen could not stop her son, but she would never approve of this plan. Charmion felt deep pride in Caesarian. I did, as well.

Caesarian stood with his hands behind his back, waiting, with respect, for his mother’s decision.

That’s when he walked in. I knew who he was. I felt him move right pass me, almost as if he moved through me. He stood beside the throne. “My queen, the tomb is ready. The army is here, we must move quickly.”

Cleopatra exhaled, turning her attention to the man. She ran her fingers through his dark curly lochs. “Marc, my love. I will be there soon.” They kissed, and he walked out. The queen waited another moment before speaking.

“Caesarian, do you remember what your father taught you about warfare?”

The boy nodded. “Yes, Mother. Marc Antony has trained me as well.”

Cleopatra leaned in and whispered. “Your father was the greatest warrior who ever lived. Rome is because of Caesar. The greatness that built Rome lives inside you. Go into my chambers, into my golden chest, and you will find your father’s armor and sword. Listen, son. I want you to go to Octavius, but I do not want you to surrender. I want you to kill him. I want you to avenge your father’s death. Do this, for me?”

Caesarian shifted. He glanced at his feet. I felt his throat constrict, his heart grow heavy. He fought the urge to cry. He returned his eyes to the queen, pushing his emotions down below. “Yes, Mother. I will do this for you.”

“I love you, my son.”

Caesarian jumped into her arms, knowing they would never embrace again.

The next I knew, I was laying on the office floor, gasping for air.