Happenstance

By Chris Loblaw

On the run from the killers who took their best friend from them, spellcasters Kean and Robert are trying to stay alive in the dying reality they are trapped in. But the crisis goes far beyond one reality: the Probability Spine that binds all the realities together is about to break, and if it does everything will end. They must escape and find a way to restore the balance and save all existence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Loblaw
• Release date: Mar 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9780986965081

Chris Loblaw

I've been writing stories for over 30 years, starting with a riveting tale of a purple cow jumping into space back in grade 3. The complexity of my storytelling has improved. In addition to the 4 novels in this series, I have written a variety of non-fiction articles for numerous publications, and in the course of that, have interviewed some truly interesting and inspirational people.Most of my non-writing time and effort is devoted to being dad to the best kid in the world. In my spare time, I'm an active civic/political busybody and a volunteer for some of the great organizations trying to make life better.

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Happenstance

Book 5 of The Spellbound Railway Series

By Chris Loblaw

Copyright 2020 Chris Loblaw, all rights reserved

Cover illustration by Keith Armour, copyright 2020

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Other books in the Spellbound Railway Series:

Book 1: WitchKids

Book 2:Kingmaker

Book 3: The Patchwork Boy

Book 4: The Ember and The Knife

Chapter 1

Sterling Leafcoat hurried through narrow alleyways between the tall stone and steel buildings that glowered at each other. At his heels followed a pack of clicking and clacking mechanical ducks, made of brass and copper with wheels and gears interlaced impossibly within. At each intersection he paused and looked down the alleyways and roads in each direction, unsure of the exact path he meant to take. As he looked left and right, the ducks fanned out in a circle around him to pick and groom the emerald grass that edged the cobblestone pavement. In bright yellow marble planters grew tall stands of rainbow poppies, with clockwork beetles furrowing through the rich brown soil to tend to the roots and direct the water to where it needed to go.

Far above the planters were the open troughs of gilded steel that let fine showers of fresh water run through the finely perforated bottom, to fall onto the flower beds in a simulation of natural rainfall. Like all the other elements brought out of nothing to form the city, there was nothing natural about the existence of these shimmering flowers, or the gangly young man stooped over to smell their fragrance.

A pair of ducks returned to Sterling’s side and plucked at the hem of his electric blue cotton pants. I know, I know he murmured to them and he took one final smell of the poppies. He waved the ducks away and marched down the wide street to his right as the tinny quacks rang out behind him in protest.

There were no street signs in the city of Happenstance, and Sterling didn’t suppose there would be any need for them in the future. It was a collection of buildings built for no clear purpose. Each sat empty and clean, waiting for a reason to exist, other than the compelled whims of the young man walking past them.

The decision to build was one made of an odd consensus between Sterling and the unconscious urges of the Void Between Worlds itself. The Void had no mind, and yet it had desires. It had no sense of self, but it knew that it had parts missing. It sent undefined impulses to Sterling, like instructions shouted from the other side of an empty stadium. The messages came from within his own mind, not a physical place, because the Void was a part of him as he was a part of it. The relationship was too complicated for Sterling’s liking.

He reached the town square and looked longingly to the east. The clapboard-covered town hall with its bright brass bell stood tall over the buildings around it, and Sterling wanted to turn towards it and stroll through the dusty neighbourhood that was fashioned as an Old West replica. The wooden sidewalks lining a wide dirt road would reverberate with every step, a percussive sound that made Sterling smile each time he visited the town. But he did not have the time to wander away. He instead walked through the cobblestone square with the low stone benches arranged on the periphery as seating for the hypothetical inhabitants, and down the walkway to the observatory.

The front door of the observatory parted into four equal sections and each piece swiveled away into the wall around the door. Sterling stepped through the open doorway and turned back to nod at the flock of ducks watching him intently. They quacked in unison and departed for the grass and gardens surrounding the observatory, to groom the plants and keep them from growing past their appointed places.

Sterling stepped into the observatory entrance and the door quietly reassembled itself and closed behind him. The small entrance hall was dominated by the helical carved oak staircase at the far end. Sterling marched quickly to the stairs and took them two at a time until he entered the dome of the observatory proper. Here in the massive marble dome, the staircase split into two divergent walkways, the oak blending into knotted gold and silver scaffolding that ran the perimeter of the room. He sped up until he was running along the curved incline of the west walkway. The walkway’s floor was slightly tilted to match the curve of the wall, and at his full running speed, Sterling had the illusion of running on the wall itself.

He reached the observation platform suspended high above the entry staircase and looked up through the slanted hole in the upper curve of the dome. The too blue and serene sky above obscured the distant raging storms of raw magical energy that roared through the void. When the storm brushed close to the protective shield around Happenstance and the floating island it sat upon, the collision made the shield flash and the sky would turn pale for an instant before the blue returned. The storms had been quiet for months, lurking out by the barrier between worlds in wait to pounce on any creature foolish enough to attempt passing into the Void.

But the storms had moved during the night. They had rolled into the shield and hammered it from all directions with such sudden terrible force that Sterling had been woken up into a bewildered panic. The storm surge had been intense but brief, and by the point where Sterling had arrived to inspect the Void from the observatory, all was as it normally was. He saw nothing out of the ordinary in the sky above his head, so he turned to the woven wicker cabinets that ringed the platform. Within the cabinets were a thousand pigeonholes, each occupied by a content cooing mechanical pigeon. The birds sat on soft cushions of multicoloured silk filled with fragrant straw that never lost its scent. Sterling extended his right arm and knocked politely on the corner of the closest cabinet three times exactly. The sound travelled through the cabinets. The birds rose from the drowsy rest and popped their heads forward to look inquisitively at Sterling. He took his right arm and prescribed an arc that went from one edge of the horizon to the other, punctuated with a flick of his open hand to the sky above. The pigeons tilted their heads in perfect unison as the gestured instructions took hold. They flew from their roosts with a great whirring of gears and a rush of air pushed back by their metal and canvas wings as the creatures flew from the observatory.

Sterling rocked back and forth on his heels while watching the blue sky above. The lack of clouds irked him, as it always did in times of idle reflection, and he thought about tasking the Aerial major-domo to create a workable system of moving clouds. Sterling wondered if the clouds would have to be encouraged into shapes that spurred the imagination, or if any old cloud would do that. He was lost in the minutiae of cloud design when the pigeons returned to roost on the continuous perch that ran above the wicker cabinets. The sudden sound of their wings beating quickly filled the room, until the machined birds landed and the clicking coo of the birds replaced the fluttering cacophony.

Sterling went down the row of birds from the left to the right. He stopped at each bird and leaned close to its beak. Each bird spoke in coos and clucks briefly before falling silent. Again and again, Sterling leaned in and asked is there word from beyond? Messages from past the barrier?. The birds had flown out to the farthest reaches of the Void to listen for any signal from an outside reality, any indication of anything crossing the barrier between worlds. Each time he received the same negative response. At the end of the row, he stood back straight and thanked the birds for their diligent response. The birds nodded in sequence, from the first bird on the right to the last bird on the left end of the row. They then hopped down to their cozy homes and settled in to a resting state.

No word. No signs. No signals. Everything outside is outside. Unknown. And me, I’m a boy in a big bubble. A fish swimming in a fish bowl. Sterling sighed as he looked up one more time to the quiet blue sky and adjusted the misaligned lapels of his ankle-length greatcoat. From the very tip of his toes came a painfully cold prickling sensation that shot through his feet, up his legs and on until it set his flame-red and bright copper-coloured hair on his head standing on end. The cold was a cry from the Void itself, a fearful warning of an imminent crisis. He grabbed for the ornate pillar in the center of the platform and dug his fingers into the deeply carved crevices. Across the entirety of the Void rang out a deep knell, so deep that it was felt more than heard. And with the ominous sound came a terrible unraveling of all that existed in the Void and possibly beyond.

For a moment, Sterling felt his body and mind on the edge of utter disintegration. The effect rolled over Happenstance almost instantaneously, and then stopped. Sterling let go of his grip on the pillar and gave in to the buckling of his knees. His stomach flipped over and over until he feared that his insides would become his outsides, but deep breaths and a focus on the floor beneath him reaffirmed a sense of stability.

Sterling ran from the observatory and whistled an urgent summons to the major-domos. In the town square they arrived, on wing and on hoof, on brachiated arm and webbed paw, and these stewards of the city of Happenstance stood waiting for instruction from their creator. And in between each mechanical creature darted a clockwork marionette set free from strings, repairing and adjusting the many moving parts of the other major-domos as they waited.

Sterling Leafcoat spoke to each of his stewards and confirmed that their domains had not been damaged by the mysterious event that had just passed. The Architect spider chittered that there were minor repairs needed to the more precarious buildings. The river otter reported a dozen small breaches in the waterways hidden throughout the city, but all would be sealed within the hour. The sorrowful crane folded its sombre ash-coloured wings to its body and shared its news of a terrible shudder in the shield that guards the city. Satisfied that the city would not fall around him, Sterling thanked his stewards and sent them about their duties. Lingering behind, the major-domo with no realm of their own paused and looked up with a tilt to its marionette head. Sterling crouched to speak with the small machine person and look into its red and blue jeweled eyes.

The unknown has knocked on the side of our fishbowl. An announcement, or a warning? What moves beyond our empty little city? We need to watch the waves for signs of what’s to come.

With a gentle grasp he picked the marionette up and placed the machine on his left shoulder. The stringless marionette took firm hold of Sterling’s coat with its fine metal fingers and held on as he rushed out of the square.

The pigeons are all well and good, but they cannot fly through those angry storms in perpetuity. The magic fries their gears, melts their brains, makes a big big mess. No, no. The Void pigeons will not suffice. We’ll have to make a new way to listen at the door to everywhere else. No, it’s not a door. There are doors, though. Yes, I know that’s confusing. Forget I said anything. You are a demanding machine.

The little marionette whirred in quiet confusion. It waited for instructions. Creator? Clarify? it hummed.

No don’t call me ‘creator’. We are all tangled together and the same creature in different pieces. Creators make something from nothing. I put parts of me and parts of the Void into moving machines. I talk to you, I talk to myself. Like now.

Name?

Sterling hopped up the steep brick stairs, with his hands on the brass rails on either side to maintain his balance. What? he huffed to the marionette.

You name? What designation do you prefer?

At the top of the stairs sat a small square landing with brick walls that were as tall as Sterling’s hips. A thick steel vault door was set into the wall in front of him. He paused, turned, and looked out to the cityscape visible from the height of the landing.

A city that is proper and good has a leader directing the work to be done. Mayor. Call me ‘Mayor’ if you need to use a title. Silly machine. Put your geared mind towards solving the problem of listening for secrets beyond the barrier.

And with a spin upon his booted heel, Sterling Leafcoat, the Mayor of Happenstance, grabbed hold of the vault door’s wheel, twirled it until the door swung silently open, and disappeared inside to the impossibility laboratory.

Chapter 2

Kean and Robert ran down the dim hallway as another round of gunfire rattled the windows in the gym behind them. Single gunshots replied from further off. Next came the sound of the gym doors being smashed open by an improvised battering ram. Kean looked at his friend and blinked back the tears that clouded his vision as he asked if he was okay.

I don’t know. What are we doing?

Kean shifted the frail, spindly body of Herlech Gate over to his other shoulder and used his left arm to grab Robert and shake him. The wild look in Robert’s eyes worried his friend.

Robbie, they’re coming to get us. I need you to pull it together. We can deal with it later. It will all be okay.

The lie felt wrong as it left his lips. It was never going to be okay. Mallory was dead. Powerless to stop it, Kean had watched his best friend murdered in a world that wasn’t her own, her family and loved ones out of reach and unaware of her death. Robert and Kean were the only two people who knew who she had been and that she was gone forever from their lives. Kean felt the world slow down until it stopped. Every breath from his lungs was a struggle. He felt like he was drowning. His mind asked the vicious question repeatedly and without mercy. Was this how Mallory felt as she sank into the cold water with a bleeding hole in her chest?

Robert rubbed his eyes with his balled fists until he saw sparks across his eyelids. The painful sensation helped him focus on the present moment. He opened his eyes again and saw Kean frozen in place. Robert tried using his magesight, hoping the magical suppression that had cut them off from their spellcasting abilities was now gone. He was relieved that he could now see the magical energies permeating the world around him, as weak as they were in this dying reality. Robert scanned Kean’s aura. There was no sign of a magical cause for his paralysis. Robert stepped close to him and shook him gently. Kean was pale, sweaty, and staring at an imagined point far away.

Kean, we need to go now. Can you see me? Where did you go?

The glazed look in Kean’s eyes frightened Robert. Kean looked utterly lost. Robert wanted to break eye contact and look away, but instead he spoke calmly but urgently to his friend.

Kean you’re having a rough time and I need you to just listen to my voice. I am going to start moving quickly towards that set of buildings over there. You watch the back of my head and follow me as quickly and safely as you can. Remember that you have Herlech on your shoulder, and we need to keep him safe too. Okay? Okay. Let’s go.

Robert tried not to break into a wild run when another gunshot rang out from within the school. He knew that if he lost his cool, Kean would too. Robert crouched and ran through the crumbled school parking lot, placing his steps between the irregular chunks of asphalt. On the other side of a burned out pickup truck he stopped to survey the area around him. Kean reached the pickup a step behind Robert, but he kept moving past him while picking up speed. Robert heard a pained complaint from Herlech as Kean rushed by, but the words were lost to the constant noise of rushing water eroding the earth under their feet. Robert hissed ‘stop Kean!’ but his panicked flight continued.

Robert saw that directly in Kean’s path was a small rectangle of brown grass and dirt that moved slowly up and down, causing the surface to ripple in a wave. Directly past the unstable ground was the gas station car wash. With its doors torn down, the automated washing spindles protruding forward like fangs and no light inside, the car wash looked like a hungry mouth.

Robert ran as fast as he could to intercept Kean. At the edge of the unstable dirt, Robert caught hold of Kean’s jacket sleeve and pulled with all his strength. They fell to the side and Robert rolled away from the dirt patch that was now collapsing into itself. He helped Kean back to his feet, ignoring Herlech’s moans and insults.

Pick him back up, Kean Robert said as he leaned down to help get the evil wizard onto Kean’s shoulder.

Oh, this will do me in. You wretched children want me to suffer.

Robert shot Herlech a dirty look in response. He pointed to the new deep sinkhole that occupied the patch where the dirt and brown grass had been.

If I wanted you to suffer, I would have let you fall into that pit Robert huffed. He grabbed a firm hold on Kean’s sleeve and led him around the sinkhole to reach the car wash.

Hidden in the shadow of the gaping car wash, Robert ignored the creeping sensation that a monster was lurking in the darkness to consume them. He scanned the horizon and picked a location to head towards.

There. Higher ground with a cluster of buildings. We can hide there temporarily.

Kean nodded without really hearing, lost in the depths of his grief and shock. Robert held onto his arm and led him along like a docile dog as they navigated the wrecked landscape. The ground that was still passable was spongy and squelching with water. Their path weaved erratically through the pools of fetid water and off-kilter structures. Walking through this bog littered with street signs and trash was exhausting and slow-moving. Robert felt the pressure of the soldiers searching after them. They couldn’t be very far behind. He tried to lead Kean on a route that let them stay hidden between buildings and large piles of crumbled concrete, but it would only take one good look to spot them.

A shout alerting the rest of the soldiers came from down the hill Robert was on. He saw a flash of movement from the very bottom of the hill, followed by the report of a single gunshot. He ran with Kean in tow to the building on the other side of the hill crest. They pushed through the stuck front door and ducked down.

They were inside the remains of a fitness club. The front windows were smashed out, and the equipment was toppled over into heaps stacked high along the windows and throughout the club. The cluttered machines made it difficult to quickly manoeuvre through the space. The emergency exit from the main room was completely inaccessible behind a pile of debris.

The other two doors exiting the main room were set in the back wall. The door on the left had one-way glass that had been smashed but still held in place. The other door had indecipherable plaques on the frame beside it, covered in obscene graffiti and wide, deep gashes hacked into the door by a blade.

Robert ducked around the upended treadmill near the front door and looked down the hill. The soldier who had spotted them was advancing up the hill, moving from cover to cover. Robert caught a glimpse of the soldier’s automatic rifle poking out from the shadows. The front of the gym was not going to hide them for very long, so Robert looked for a way out.

The door on the left looks like it goes to an office. Eh Kean?

Kean shook his head and stared at the ground. Herlech moaned and Kean looked up in surprise like he had forgotten that the frail man was on his shoulder. With a shrug he dumped Herlech to the ground. This time Herlech gave a long loud groan that cut through the background noise.

Kean! Careful. The soldiers had to have heard that. Pay attention to me, okay buddy?

Kean shook his head slowly from side to side, while staring at Herlech writhing on the ground. It was like Kean was waking up from a deep sleep and was confused by everything around him. The look on his face transformed from confusion to cold rage.

He should be left for them to find. Let him die at the hands of the people he trusted. It would serve him right for all the evil that he has done. I’m going to throw him out the door so the wolves can get him.

Herlech groaned and muttered a confused ‘wolves?’ to himself. He tried to pull himself to a sitting position but the pain sent him back to lying prone. Robert bent down to offer aid to the writhing man.

Kean, that’s not how we handle things. We are the good guys. Leaving him to die is just as evil as the hurt he has inflicted.

There were tears flooding Kean’s eyes as he stared at Robert. I don’t know what is good anymore, Robert. I don’t understand anything.

Robert’s heart raced as he realized how damaged his friend really was.

Okay, okay. You’re in shock, Kean. Nothing is going to make sense now. But if you trust me, we’ll get through this. I need your help. You listen to me, and I’ll steer us to safety, if I can. You trust me, like I trust you, Kean.

Herlech laughed with a dry cough that scratched between his words.

Such noble heroes. One must marvel at the strength of your convictions when you so blithely consider sending a man to his death.

No one is dying Herlech, unless you sabotage our escape efforts. Do you want to keep living?

The wheezing birdcage of a man, all wire thin bone and sinew twisted into a human shape, pondered the question. He grunted and confessed he did want to live.

Pain and all, I want to scrape past this conflict and see what waits after it.

Then work with me. Kean- pick him up and move to the door on the right. Stay as low as you can.

As Kean followed the instructions, Robert switched to magesight. The sparse arcana in this dying splinter reality gave him little fuel to work with, and the absence of electronic signals worsened his spectrum vision. He could see a flutter of energy 30 meters down the hill, but it bled into meaningless noise almost immediately. He was without his magical advantage, unless they found some active electronics or running electricity. His spellcasting was limited to affecting the EM spectrum of radiation and other associated elements. In a world without running tech, he was powerless.

Robert scurried between the tipped over treadmills and upside down stationary bikes. He hoped that the soldiers were still far enough away to neither hear nor see him as he tripped into the next room. The door on the right led to a short corridor with a door on either side and a large glass door at the end. The side doors were for the changerooms and Robert doubted there was an exit at the rear of them. He pushed through the glass door and waved Kean through behind him.

They stood at the edge of an indoor pool that had cracked and lost its water. The walls were windowless and covered with poorly drawn murals painted by an artist with no understanding of the human body. The figures on the wall mural were out of proportion. One eager swimmer had a right arm that was twice as long as her left. The painted kids splashing in a shallow wading pool looked more like piglets writhing in a wallow. Robert was stunned by the ugly art. His pause was interrupted by a shouted call and answer from outside, that was followed by a sustained burst of automatic rifle fire. At the sound of the first shot he pulled Kean with him into the shallow end of the empty pool. He huddled against the cracked concrete and shredded vinyl lining and waited for the shooting to stop.

Why are they shooting? They couldn’t have seen us. Could they? Robert asked. Kean was in no state to answer. Robert desperately hoped that Kean would regain some semblance of mental calm soon, because it was too difficult to think for the both of them.

The gunfire ended. Robert popped his head up just high enough to have his eyes above the lip of the pool, and then pulled his body over the lip. He grabbed a pool rescue hook from beneath the cracked plastic deck chairs on the edge of the ruined pool and crawled to the door. Robert wedged the hook through the door’s handle, and threaded the other end of the hook behind a duct bulkhead above and to the right of the door. That might buy us enough time to get out of here he said quietly as he moved along the edge of the pool to the back wall.

He reached the door in the back wall and leaned to the side of the door to keep himself hidden from outside as he gently pulled at the back exit. The door moved reluctantly. Robert pulled harder, even though the added force caused the door hinges to shriek. They had to keep moving. He gave the door one more strong pull and leaned through the opening.

Robert was faced with a sense of overwhelming defeat when he looked through the now open door. A couple of steps from the threshold, the ground disappeared. To the left and right of the door there was a narrow band of dirt that was barely wide enough to stand on, but the narrow dirt tapered off to nothing at the edge of the building. He dropped into a crouch and cautiously moved out onto the small dirt promontory jutting into the air in front of the door. At the edge of the promontory he looked down to the swirling pool of garbage 10 meters below. The ground underneath the promontory cut away at an angle, which meant that more than half of the gym was perched precariously on soil that had no structural support. As if to confirm Robert’s observations, the ground shook and a chunk of the soil beneath fell down the slope. When the wet clump, the size of a car tire, hit the pool below, it was caught in the erratic swirling eddy. The water lurched suddenly as another seismic shudder rolled through, and the clump was impaled upon a row of rusty rebar poking up above the foul brown water foam of the pool. There was no way they could safely go in this direction.

Robert turned back and crawled into the empty concrete pool as another burst of gunfire rattle his nerves. His mind raced to find an alternate route to safety. He was coming up short on solutions. They were trapped inside an unstable building perched on shifting dirt that threatened to fall away into the filthy water below at any moment. Outside were armed soldiers looking to capture them, or worse. He wanted to give in to the panic racing through his heart, but he did not have that luxury. Robert looked at his dazed friend. Kean was leaning heavily against the broken tile wall of the pool. His breath was shallow and rapid, and his eyes were staring at the drain at the deep end of the pool, without seeing anything at all. If Robert gave up, Kean would be lost too. The shock that consumed his mind right now would send Kean running at the soldiers, to die in the wet mud.

Kean, what colours can you see? Can you access your magesight? Mine is working but its very weak.

What? Colours? Kean replied in a slow mumbling voice. He sounded drunk and exhausted.

Scan the area, as far out as you can, and look for those soldiers. They don’t have any active broadcast devices, so I’m limited in what I can pick up.

Kean kept staring unfocused. His pale hands were pressed against the pool wall, and when he brought his left one up to brush the hair out of his eyes, Robert saw a persistent tremble run from Kean’s fingertips to his shoulder. In response, Robert put his palm on Kean’s forearm and watched for a reaction. Kean flinched at the contact and Robert feared he would bolt from the relative safety of the room. Though the trembling continued, Kean stayed in place. Robert wrapped his fingers around Kean’s forearm and pressed with increasing gentle pressure. With his index finger, Robert began to tap a slow, steady rhythm onto the underside of Kean’s wrist.

Kean! Follow the taps. One after another. Close your eyes and count them out.

Kean followed the instructions slowly. By the count of ten his breathing was slowing down to normal. Deep below a lurch of the soil snapped a network of water and sewer pipes in half, sending a crack and a shudder radiating through the dirt. The sudden jolt hit the pool and Kean yanked away from Robert. With more force than he had ever applied to another person, Robert clamped his hand more tightly around Kean’s forearm and wrist and refused to let him run. He went back to tapping, counting out loud to get Kean back in time. The seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness. By the count of 20 Kean was calm enough to talk.

What was out the back door?

Pretty much a sheer drop to a whirlpool filled with broken concrete and jagged rebar.

Kean’s eyes went far away again, and Robert feared that he was slipping back into shock. He started to tap on Kean’s wrist again, but Kean put his hand over Robert’s fingers to hold them still. A moment later his eyes came back into focus.

I could barely see the soldiers in this thin magical air. They’re close. Too close. And there is something wrong with the two I could see. A blackened fire consuming their auras.

The dry dusty sound of ancient paper being crushed came rising in response to Kean’s description. The sound was followed by a weak hacking cough. Robert looked down to the source of the sound and the cough. Herlech smiled back at him, with a doomed sadness in his watery eyes.

Do you know anything about them? Is this bad?

The desiccated sound returned, slipping from between Herlech’s lips with a wheeze. He was laughing.

"Is it bad? Oh my no. Safe as houses we are, huddled in this collapsing ceramic-lined grave, waiting patiently for our executioners to arrive. They are not soldiers, not any longer. That fire you see is