Prequel: Mortal Danger by Bob Stein (Warning: Adult Material)
Confuzzeled about all the colons replacing quotes? The answer lies here.
:(Sigh) Now, on with the story.:
(Brian, present)
Brian was in a black mood.
He looked over the forest gravely. Eternal daylight poured from an
unknown source far in the sky, falling gently, so gently on the tender
saplings extending away as far as the eye could see. They didn\x92t
allow anything to grow old here. Nothing could be less than ideal
for Them. There were saplings, miles and miles of saplings, going
on forever. A forest full of saplings. Always saplings... If
he could have laughed, he would have. All that came out from his
small muzzle were a few short barks, then a chirping trill.
It\x92s not that he minded
being a raccoon. He picked idly at the remains of the silvery trout
he\x92d pulled from the river...Always trout.... Right now, being a
raccoon was the only thing keeping him fed. It was probably the only
way he could have survived in this God-awful place. Goodness knows
how many fish he\x92d caught in the past months. Amongst other things.
His sensitive nose could
seek out tender mushrooms in their hidden nests, in tree stumps and under
logs. Berries he might wisely have eschewed as a human became tasty,
edible treats. Some of the oak and cedar had struggled to maturity
enough to produce some nuts. As a raccoon, he found that his stomach
handled the tannic acid with a minimum of complaint. As a human,
he\x92d surely have become violently ill, trying to eat raw acorns.
There weren't many small
animals...here. The best Brian had managed to do for himself was
catching fish. Raw fish was not the first thing he'd have chosen
to eat, but it was fresh, and his stomach thanked him for it. They
were hard to catch, though! Brian must have spent a good hour trying
to find a suitable spot, and then he had to wait while his tummy rumbled,
for the fish to fall into the slow moving section of the river.
Here, now, Brian waited
patiently while a silver little fish jumped over the tiny cascades into
the pool of stillenss. Almost faster than he could see, Brian's paw
snaked out and dashed the fish from the stream. Yes! Dinner.
He jumped on the flopping fish, biting its head with his teeth. It
stopped, dead, almost instantly. Brian had done this more times than
he could count, and it still gave him the chills. But he had to eat,
and he needed the protein. Consuming a fish raw was not as fun as
he would have thought. There were all of those annoying scales, and
the uncooked meat stuck to the bones. The blood wasn't nice either,
but it washed off well when Brian cleaned his paws in the stream.
Brian paused for a moment,
before picking at the body of the fish again. He remembered the time
a mouse had crossed his path. More trouble than it was worth, all
he managed to do was give it the scare of its life. He could have
caught it, trapping it from its hole, but it scampered by when he hesitated.
Despite the attractiveness *ugh* of eating a mouse, Brian didn't know how
many people had been led here by Puck. Imagine if the mouse had been
a person once, or even worse, one of his friends! Brian quailed at
the very idea. He couldn't take that risk.
Eating was certainly easier.
There were some other things he discovered about himself that made things
easier.
Since he passing tender
age of adolescence, he\x92d been unable to find a comfortable way of sleeping.
As he had advanced in maturity, he remembered the nagging irritation as
one of his extremities had become wedged under his gangly body, cut off
from blood flow. No matter how he slept, on his back, or on his side,
there had never been a time when he woke up without tingly pains in his
arms or legs. Who could have predicted that the ideal sleeping position
for him was curled in a ball, on a slight incline, inside one of the fallen
logs that seemed to be deliberately placed at regular intervals throughout
this forest? Despite being on all fours, and furry, he was glad to
get a good night\x92s sleep, well a good day\x92s sleep. If only night
would come.
Once, being a raccoon had
saved his life.
(past)
Where did that wolf come
from?! Of course. The gate had been left open again!
Where was that pacifistic Puck when you needed him? The wolf seemed
lost, going in no particular direction, sniffing around aimlessly.
Thankfully upwind, it still almost walked on top of Brian. It
looked straight at him, huddled in the shadowy brush, then moved on, oblivious
of his presence. Brian didn\x92t know if wolves would eat raccoons,
but he didn\x92t want to take any chances. He thanked lady Fortune that
day. If he'd still been human, wearing his bright orange life preserver,
yellow shirt, and white shorts, he would have been an easy target.
Raccoon colored as he was now, he probably looked just like another shadow
to that wolf when hiding under the brush.
Brian briefly felt a pang
of sympathy. The poor wolf. It had gotten waylaid, separated
from its pack through one of the dimensional gates that They had \x93accidentally\x94
left open. He knew its fate wasn't going to be pleasant. They didn\x92t
tolerate predators in Their forest, but They loved to torment them.
As an omnivore, Brian was about the tolerable limit. The wolf was...over
the limit. Brian hid, trying to shut out the sounds of that wolf,
pitiful high barks probably designed to summon his pack, or warn them away
from this terrible place. He never stood a chance. His pack
couldn\x92t hear him across from another world.
The barks vanished as the
wolf began to change. His body shrunk, and his ears grew. His
fur lightened to downy whiteness. Soon he was unable to sound at
all. They made him long ears and a cute little fluffy tail.
They\x92d made him into a white cottontail, a bunny! Of all the nerve.
Their gay laughter floated across the hills for hours as that poor wolf
(rabbit?) scampered about trying to chase itself. By the time they
left, he had been totally regressed, and was calmly hopping around, munching
on the greenery.
The creature hopped up to
Brian, still unaware of his presence. Then, Brian poked his nose
out of the brush. Once again seeing prey, the rabbit jumped at him,
knocking him over with a powerful leap. It seemed to forget what
to do with him at that point, and began licking his face. Spluttering,
Brian used his greater mass to push the rabbit off of him. The rabbit
stayed close, and Brian began scratching it behind the ears. :Well,
boy. It looks like Puck was sloppy. You still think you\x92re
a wolf don\x92t you?: The bunny\x92s ears went down in pleasure, and his
eyes closed. Its tongue hung loosely from the side of its mouth.
:Still tired from all that running around, huh? I know of a cool
place you can rest, c\x92mon.: His last mental word was punctuated by
a short chirp that seemed to get the rabbit\x92s attention. Brian led
it off into the bushes until it was sleeping peacefully in a shaded glen,
where the trees pressed close and the underbrush was thick
. :That oughta
hold you for awhile.: Brian thought, leaving a little bit of his
depression behind. Brian sighed. What would he do with a totally
devoted pet rabbit (wolf?).
(present)
Brian paused in his musing,
settling squat back on his haunches. Idly, he traced equations in
the brown soil (always the same perfect brown shade...) forcing himself
to focus on the meaning of the symbols, and the memory of the world he\x92d
known before.
1+1=2. He was determined
not to lose it.
e^(i*pi) \x96 1 = 0.
All those years of education.
::The little brown fox jumped....::
A lifetime of experience.
::The capital of the United
States is Washington. The states are....:: And They were going
to take that away from him!
\x93It\x92s the natural order.\x94
They\x92d said. \x93It\x92s your obligation.\x94 They\x92d said. We
like it...they never said that, but you could see it in their eyes, black
and insect-like. They liked it. You could hear it in their
laughter. Soft and tinkling, like bells. They liked it.
The bells took him back...
(past)
Brian\x92s world turned upside
down. The boat tipped crazily, and he was in the water. He
tried frantically to find the canoe, but the river was carrying him downstream.
Brian hoped he would drown quickly, his uncoordinated body sinking to the
bottom of the river. Then he realized he what he was doing.
\x93I\x92m swimming!\x94 he thought, incredulous even in the chaotic tumble of the
river. I can swim, even though it\x92s been less than an hour since
those...bug people changed me\x97.\x94 Something didn\x92t quite ring true
in his head about that last statement, \x93But first things first\x94, he told
himself. \x93Get to shore.\x94
Brian swam in short, fast
strokes to the side of the river. The thrill of swimming the river
was soon replaced by darker feelings. \x93We can\x92t fight them.\x94
he thought, crawling wet and miserable out on the bank. \x93There are
too many of them. Better to hide. Yes, hide.\x94 Brian did
the smartest thing he could think of. Partly prompted from instinct
and partly from common sense, he slipped into the concealing bushes.
Soon however, Brian winced
from his hiding place as he saw Bob run through by the unicorn. ::Spitted!
Gutted, like a common anim...:: Brian suppressed his ill-advised
thought. Instead, his mind was racing, but he couldn\x92t figure out
how they could get out of this mess. \x93Oh, no. Is it happening
to me again? Am I turning into an animal, all the way this time?\x94
His thoughts, though confused, seemed curiously unhindered. Ever
since he\x92d evaded those fairies, he could think clearly again. He
shuddered. ::But would I even notice I was thinking differently?
How would I know if I was thinking like a raccoon? How can someone
understand that they are losing their understanding?::
As Bob flew off the unicorn\x92s
horn like a rag doll, Eric turned and ran until he left Brian\x92s sight.
Eric\x92s scent lingered on the breeze, and Brian began following him.
\x93At least he might get away.\x94 Brian thought miserably. \x93But
I\x92m done for. When those fairies find me, they\x92re going to get me.
I won\x92t be able to fight them. I know it.
\x93Only Eric\x92s left.
Chip\x92s some kind of mind dead faun. Bob\x92s, oh god, I don\x92t even know
if he\x92s still alive. And I\x92m...already taken care of.\x94 Brian
slunk through the bushes, eyes out for any more of those fairies.
He found Eric more by smell than anything else. He didn\x92t see Eric
until reaching the perimeter of a very large clearing. As he drew
closer, Brian could hear Eric talking with someone.
Brian poked his head out
of the brush, cautiously. ::Wha--? It\x92s a kid, a little teeny
kid! Curly hair, cute as the world, and buck-naked? Is he going
to help us?:: Brian edged a little closer, then gazed at the white
crack of light that appeared over Eric in the sky. It pulsed, emitting
a booming voice. When Brian looked back down, Eric had already began
to change.
:Brian::Oh, no! Why
isn\x92t that kid doing anything? Eric\x92s in trouble! Why isn\x92t
he helping? Why isn\x92t that kid changing too?! Oh god, he\x92s
laughing.::
The little boy threw his
head back and laughed as Eric went from a Shakespearean horror to a full-blown
donkey. The child\x92s laughter was distant and bell-like, both aloof
and innocent, the same as the fairies. The child was one of Them.
Eric looked down at the
fey boy, whom he now towered over, as confused as an ass could be.
Brian wanted to race forward, shouting \x93Don\x92t listen to him! He\x92ll
destroy you!\x94 He almost couldn\x92t stop himself. \x93Remember, idiot!\x94
Brian told himself reprehensibly. \x93You can\x92t speak! You\x92re
three feet long, and most of that is tail. That kid is bigger than
you!\x94
He watched, helpless, as
the boy leaned up and whispered soothing words into one of Eric\x92s long
ears. To Brian\x92s dismay, Eric nickered softly, and allowed the child
up on his back. \x93He\x92s gone now.\x94 Brian thought sadly.
\x93Just like Chip, and Bob.\x94
Eric and the boy rode off
slowly down the road that suddenly appeared before them, leaving Brian
standing alone in the sun dappled clearing. Even as he watched them
go, he felt strangely uneasy. He was standing in the clearing...in
the clearing...alone. Fully. Exposed.
\x93It\x92s your turn now.\x94 the
voice above him boomed, as he desperately tried to leap back into the bushes.
He could hear their laughter as the fairies flew up in a swarm after him.
Their tinkling, bell-like...
(present)
It was the laughter that
brought him back. He could hear it, in the present, sounding from
farther down the hill. Oh, no. Puck was coming. Brian
leapt towards his scratchings, erasing the equations with his paw.
E=mc^2. Sorry Einstein,
it look like you were a little off in my case.
e^(i*pi) \x96 1=0. A
little equation relating the 5 most meaningless numbers in the universe.
::The...capital...:: he
brushed away the long sentence with his tail, getting thoroughly dirty
in the process. ::I can get cleaned up later.:: he thought hurriedly.
::Puck\x92s seen me dust-bathe often enough. No reason for him
to suspect...::
Dog chose that inopportune
moment to come hopping up to Brian, tongue lolling out in a very unrabbitlike
manner. Brian\x92s hasty *hissst!* sent him scrambling back into
the bushes. There Dog watched, fearfully, as Brian prepared for the
coming of Puck.
Puck came dancing around
the lane. He looked for the entire world like a lost farm boy, whistling
at the breezes, taking his time to get home. A buck naked, lost farm
boy. Brian dove down, this time mentally, deep into his consciousness
and hid, too hasty to think about leaving a window. He plunged into
the lowest layers of self, and allowed the other part of his being to come
bubbling up into awareness.
To an outside observer,
the dirty raccoon\x92s eyes had no gleam of intelligence. It sauntered
down to the riverbank, sniffing at the remains of its food. Turning,
it snarled suspiciously at the strange intruder who would disturb its meal.
Puck was pleased at the progress.
::No window out.:: Brian was plunged into darkness. Familiar
darkness. ::That was close.:: he said to himself. There was
nothing else to talk to down here beside himself, anyway. He knew
that far above, his raccoon side was putting on the perfect show for Puck.
He hoped everything was going okay. If Puck suspected anything....
His Other sent him a reassuring snuggle-emotion, and offered him a hand
(paw) up. Brian began climbing, slowly rising through the dark layers
of the mind. He was still too deep to see out of his own eyes.
::At least it\x92s not as bad as last time.:: he thought, struggling
upwards. ::Or the first time.:: In darkness, the memory became
life.
(past)
They sought him out.
In the bushes, under logs,
they would not let him go, would not let him hide. Brian ran away
from the sun dappled clearing, but they followed him effortlessly.
He panicked further and further as he felt their whirring wings at his
back. They kept behind, letting Brian run until his raccoonish instincts
were at full. Then they struck.
How do you fight someone
who uses fists you cannot see? How do you argue with words you cannot
hear? Brain could only tell that his thoughts were dulling.
His mind was turned towards a thousand distractions, the scent of the female
raccoons, the fear in his flight, the curious smell coming out of that
tree hollow. He forced himself to ignore the unnaturally strong emotions
that They must be pushing on him. He found it hard to remember his
own name.
::Brian.:: he screamed inwardly.
::Brian! Bri--. Brian!:: He fought them as a child fights
sleep, refusing to let his mind droop. He knew if they made him sleep
now, he wasn\x92t going to be waking up.
They seemed to grow tired
of the subtle play and hammered his consciousness down. They broke
him, overriding his being, mental and physical. He stumbled and fell,
twitching spasmodically, as he lost consciousness, going...where?...down.
Brian woke in a black pit.
He could not see, hear, smell, or feel anything. His soul drifted,
free from pain, in a vast lake with no top and no bottom. He dreamed.
He was a man again. He was a fish. Puck was chasing him with
glowing red eyes. Brian-self began to unravel, to dissolve in the
lake of nothing. He was dying...
Far above, a raccoon stopped
at the Lake. Looking curiously, it saw a silver flash. Beating
the water with its forepaws, it pulled out a tasty Fish. But the
fish was no longer a Fish. It was a raccoon. Like himself...
Brian stared at his double
as the fish dream dissolved. Another raccoon stood, in mirror opposition
to him. It looked exactly like he did, but was somehow different.
He could feel its simple nervousness as it washed its face in agitation.
Aggression was not in its eyes. How could it be aggressive to something
that smelled exactly like itself? All it smelled was himself.
He smelled himself. He woke up.
The fairies were lying limp
all around. Their lights were dimmed with exhaustion. Had Brian
been able to move a muscle, he might have crushed some of them. But
he was as limp as them. His body responded slowly. He
raised his head. They looked at him coldly.
:Target has regained consciousness\x97mobility. Program \x96iteration
countdown: The fairies carefully reserved their energy for the next
iteration. The first step was completed. The fourth mind strike
was specifically calculated, through extensive diagnostics, to perform
the final memory override. Everything was logged and tabulated and
planned with meticulous detail to complete their program. They knew
no fear, love, hate, only purpose.
Brian looked back.
Through his foggy vision, he could see how many it\x92d taken to bring him
down. ::Mus\x92 have put on quite a fight.:: Somehow, his thoughts
managed to lisp. He turned his head higher. Puck, the golden
child was standing over him...laughing...
(present)
That had been the worst. A rather rude introduction to his split personality. Thanks to Rac, Brian\x92d gotten back to himself before they could recover to beat him again. Brian promised silently that he\x92d never make another split personality joke again. Rac was as helpful has he could ever hope to expect. It had not been long after...
(past)
After They came the second
time, Brian was ready to give up. He wallowed in darkness and self-pity.
::Why don\x92t you listen to them? Be a raccoon. Isn\x92t it what
you\x92ve always wanted?:: he remarked bitterly. Deep down, though,
he knew that being a raccoon, as They saw it, was not what he wanted at
all.
To lose all sentient thought,
a tragedy almost worse than death! Without his mind, being a raccoon
was nothing. What good to be a raccoon if you can\x92t remember ever
wanting it? No, Brian did not want to be a raccoon without his mind
to go along with it. If only such a thing were possible...
::Idle dreams.:: he
remarked, depressedly. ::You can\x92t have both. One or the other.
Hey, look on the dark side! Now you don\x92t even have a choice!
There could never be a sentient raccoon.:: Never. But...
Mind lightning cracked above
him. His ears flicked up suddenly. His depression was cut by
astonishment. :There is a sentient raccoon.: he realized. :Me.:
For the first time in Brian\x92s life, he knew. It was possible.
\x91Coon and sentience were one inside him.
Then, his ears flattened
again. They were going to take that away from him. It was Their
fault, and They were the bad ones. He would never, ever give in to
Them. He turned to look at his double.
Together, they rested at
the shores of that night lake in his mind. The other noticed his
attention, and perked up, but then it warbled confusedly. His fury
must have been noticeable. He smoothed out his fur and calmed down.
Brian felt its worry following him, concern over his anxiety. :Why
are you so worried?: Brian grumbled. :You\x92re the one who\x92s going
to take over when those fairies are through with me. You should be
glad. You\x92re what they want me to be.: Normal in every way.
It waddled over, and plopped
down beside him. ::It must think I\x92m family or something.:: Brian
settled down beside his Other. It nuzzled at him affectionately.
:You really like me don\x92t you? I guess I haven\x92t been treating you
quite fair. It\x92s not that I don\x92t like you, it\x92s...hey! Leggo my
leg!:
The \x91coon had a hold of
his leg! He twisted around and grappled with the other raccoon.
They both rolled down the hill above the lake, until his Other suddenly
broke free and ran, chittering off into the darkness. It came back,
smiling. ::How can a raccoon smile?:: Oh, something about the
way that tail moves... then Brian realized he was doing it himself.
:You want to play, do you? Well watch out!:
He jumped up, and grabbed
it by the shoulders. They wrestled until their two forms bowled over
the edge of the lake and into the water. Then, it became a diving
game to see who could come up under the other. They played for what
seemed like hours, until finally Brian flopped on shore, exhausted.
Stars began twinkling in the darkness above. \x93I\x92ll call you Rac.\x94
he thought, slipping down to sleep.
When he awoke, he saw Puck.
The boy was still smiling, though he looked weary himself. The exhausted
fairies had been cleared away. Brian began to wonder if They\x92d met
with such resistance before.
\x93Well, you were down for longer this time!\x94 <<that laughter...>>
\x93C\x92mon! Don\x92t be such a spoilsport! It\x92s not like we could have kept
you human!\x94 <<laughter>> \x93You take things too seriously, y\x92know.
You\x92d be much more happy if you just let us finish with you. You\x92re
just stubborn. As stubborn as any normal raccoon should be.
Hahahaha...\x94 Puck vanished, laughing, even as Brian lashed out with his
claws and teeth, biting air. Puck\x92s disembodied voice came back across
the clearing. \x93Just to let you know, you\x92ve got about two weeks,
then we\x92ll be back. We\x92ll fix you right up!\x94
They\x92d fix him up.
They\x92d fix him up. He chittered angrily at the eternal light shining
above. From an unknown source in the sky, the forest was bathed in
perpetual daylight. An endless paradise, a garden of never-night,
a place of life and beauty hidden from the evils of our flaw\x92d planet.
He spit and hissed as he attacked the log he\x92d been living in for the last
few days. This was the place he was supposed to love and enjoy as
a raccoon. With the tree logs so evenly spaced, probably artificial;
with no live trees big enough to climb on; with all that eternal daylight.
Raccoons are nocturnal, for goodness sake! Brian was as miserable
as he could be. But his black mood didn\x92t spoil that tender bead
of hope he\x92d found while playing with Rac. Brian had a plan.
He began practicing.
Brian forced himself down into his mind, until his senses failed and he
was once again beside that starlit lake. Then, he swam up as before,
breaking out into sunlight. It was easier than he thought.
::I must be half mad, to be able to do this. I don\x92t think I could
have done it before the fairies broke me the first time. I wonder
if this is how catatonic patients feel? Or maybe brainwashed people...::
He dove down and resurfaced
over and over again. Each time, it became a little easier to return,
his body reawakening, the twitching paralysis subsiding quickly.
After 3 days with nothing else to do in his spare time, Brian was handling
himself much like a skillful diver, passing easily through the regions
of his mind. When Brian felt ready, Rac was only too willing to oblige.
He seemed to understand that Brian needed the exercise, and he was glad
to explore the world as only a raccoon could. Brian carefully led
the other raccoon up to the top of his mind, where it could take care of
things while he slumbered. The week was passing quickly, though,
and everything had to be perfect when they came for him.
When he wasn\x92t eating, or
doing his strange form of meditation, Brian was drawing in the dirt.
Raccoon paws were ideal for fine manipulation, he found, and writing things
down helped him remember who he had been. ::Who I am.:: Brian thought
furiously. He quizzed himself constantly about all of the simple
trivia, and most of the grand concepts he\x92d learned back home. From
history to art to mathematics, Brian found an endless number of things
to transcribe, even if he had to erase it when Puck found him. ::Maybe
the dirt will remember.:: He found himself idly wishing one day.
He began teaching Rac too.
Rac took it all in stride. It was natural for him after all.
At first, Brian was afraid of teaching Rac too much, but he soon came to
realize that Rac was as much a part of himself as he was. They were
just unnaturally separated. Rac wouldn\x92t think of killing Brian any
more than Brian would think of killing Rac. The fairies were the
ones to watch out for, and the more Brian and Rac knew about each other,
the harder it was to pull them apart.
(Brian, aside)
Brian stayed far away from the few trees large enough to climb. He shuddered in horror when he remembered what they'd done to Chip, who could be seen a satyr, flicking among the bushes, dancing in the reeds. Chip never woke up. His mind was gone, burned away by the transformation that the trees had imposed on him. Nothing left but a simple animal lust, he lived only to further the trees' reproduction. It was clear why the trees had done that to him. They were stifled, unnaturallly controlled. In this eternally young world, they fought with a frenzy that never possessed a plant before, to be allowed to mature. Unfortunately, Chip was in the way of this ongoing, and pointless battle. It is a tree's nature to grow and seed. Prevent that nature, and be ready for it to fight back.
(present)
In a blinding flash of light,
Puck, the golden child was standing over him...laughing. Brian snapped
himself back to the present. Was he seeing? ::Alright!::
He\x92d gotten his eyes working again! He looked out through the 'window'
while his raccoon self took care of the rest.
They were apparantly hiding
in the bushes. Good. Rac didn\x92t trust Puck either. Rac
probably bolted when the child came along. Puck was standing almost
on top of Brian, but Puck\x92s back was turned so Brian remained hidden.
Rac wanted to bite, but Brian demurred, showed him the memory of the last
time he\x92d caught Puck off guard.
(past)
The wound on the child\x92s
hand had begun closing up. It healed instantly. Brian had not
gotten away though. Puck had his fairies install a tracking device
under the back of Brian\x92s neck. Nasty little thing, that tracking
device. All spindly arms gyrating about like a chrome spider.
It latched onto his back, and sliced open his skin. He\x92d screamed
his raccoon form of a scream, and spent a good 30 seconds ineffectively
clawing at his neck. Soon, the thing had sewn his skin seamlessly
shut, and stopped moving inside him. \x93That way,\x94 Puck said angrily,
\x93we\x92ll be able to see you no matter where you hide.\x94 Brian had never
seen Puck angry before. It was not a pleasant sight. Those
curls were just as cute, the little naked child just as sweet and innocent.
But the face was horrid in a twisted grimace of fury, something beyond
what a human child should ever express. Puck\x92s face smoothed out,
and he ventured forth his beaming grin. Laughing, he remarked playfully.
\x93Well, now that that\x92s done Mr. Raccoon, you c\x92n go off and play.
Of course you could play with me y\x92know. It would be a lot faster
that way...\x94
Brian fled as fast as his
aching neck could allow. \x93Three days left.\x94 Puck called after
him.
(present)
Had that really been two
days ago? It seemed like so much shorter. Then again, Brian
could only measure days by how often he fell asleep. It never got
dark in this forest.
Puck was laughing as he
played with Brian\x92s rabbit, Dog. \x93Well, he wasn\x92t originally a dog.\x94
Brian thought. \x93But it seemed too obvious to name him \x91Wolf\x92.\x94
Dog was playing fetch.
Fetch. A strange game indeed when the object of play was suddenly edible.
Dog had introduced Brian to cedar-bark. It really wasn\x92t that bad
to eat though he suspected that (as usual) his human form would have had
some problems with digestion. Still, despite Dog\x92s \x93expert\x94 culinary
advice, Brian didn\x92t partake too much of the grass and clover that Dog
seemed to love so much. Brian had a feeling that it didn\x92t do much
for him except help his digestion. But for Dog, it was an endless
feast.
The dog-like rabbit eagerly
brought the stick back, entirely scraped clean of tasty cedar bark.
Puck took the stick, and threw it away, sending Dog bounding with delight
back into the bushes. They set an idyllic scene. In a forest
of saplings, a young naked boy played innocently with his rabbit.
It was worthy of a romantic painting. Brian wondered briefly how
his hands would hold up to painting. The wonder was tinged, however,
with sadness. Would he ever get home? Would he ever see a painting?
Would he ever see the stars again?
\x93If only Puck wasn\x92t so
manipulative.\x94 Brian thought sadly. \x93He might be a nice guy.\x94
Puck laughed once more,
then turned his golden curls, walked off to the trail, and mounted...Eric.
The demon horse reeked of
power, every muscle underneath that black hide rippling like an ocean wave.
A donkey no longer, Puck had changed him...horribly.
In slow measures at first,
as Eric became more and more the pawn of Puck, Puck found a childish delight
in experimentation. The end result had lost its homely donkey stature,
in exchange for a shape right out from a nightmare. Eric\x92s ebony
fur concealed an impenetrable armor of scales, from his horse-like head
to the tip of his sinuous, reptilian tail. He ran like no horse could,
legs blurring, hooves sparking like fire on the stones he passed.
His breath came out in hot blasts, and his teeth were sharply pointed.
:Sharp.: Rac agreed, scratching at the scar Eric had given him, a week
before, on the command of Puck.
Eric belonged only to the
Fairies now, Puck\x92s trusted steed and slave. They thundered off together,
a study in contrast. The tiny child atop the nightmare steed.
Ironic, but then, that was Puck\x92s cruel brand of humor. Brian watched
them go, then suddenly focused on something more closely in front of him.
There was a fairy, glowing with light. \x93Time.\x94 it said simply.
He backed away in horror.
:No-o! It\x92s too soon! I-I\x92m...: but Brian was ready.
He kept up the facade, taking control of his body enough to back away.
Another fairy appeared next to the first. Then another. \x93Time.time.time\x94
Their quiet voices were echoes. More and more fairies appeared, surrounding
him in a cloud. Brian felt a momentary stab of fear. Could
he do it? He\x92d worked so hard. He had nothing to lose, but
he could still fail. He felt their minds pressing him down.
Gathering his will, he struck back.
He lashed out with as much
power as he could. ::They can\x92t think I held back.:: He pushed
his mind up against the weight of theirs, straining to break free.
::It\x92s got to be convincing.:: He pulled on them teasingly, dragging
them around like thousands of kites on his back. ::Almost enough.
They\x92ve almost got me. I\x97I\x97. I\x92m winning?::
As the fairies began to
drop, their lights dimming, they looked at the raccoon standing a little
straighter. Brian was so surprised that he was winning, he paused
in shock. ::What do I do now?:: He hadn\x92t planned on winning,
and hesitated.
They knocked him back into
the mind lake so fast, his head spun, if he\x92d had a head...if he\x92d had
a body...if he\x92d had a soul...
...Rac pulled him out again.
Brian stood on the bank dripping, but hopeful. :Thanks. That
was weird. How could I have been winning?: Rac chittered encouragingly.
Brian chittered back, and they touched noses briefly. Then, Rac jumped
back up through the layers of consciousness, leaving Brian alone.
::First night\x92s sleep I\x92ve gotten in weeks.:: he thought, as he slumped
down to dream...
Part 2
(Puck, present)
Puck surveyed the damage.
Broken fairies lay all around the prone body that once was a man called
Brian. His voice was strangely dispassionate. \x93We had to risk
it though. The fourth stage would have taken too long.\x94 He
laughed, and the strange music danced through his ears. Puck would
never get used to his own laughter. He picked up one of the fairies.
It fell in two, the severed ends sparking briefly. The other fairies
looked on unemotionally. \x93You may return.\x94 he said formally.
They vanished into the sky. A booming voice sounded above him.
\x93Is he taken care of?\x94
\x93Yes, Gatekeeper.\x94
\x93How many lost?\x94
\x93237, Gatekeeper.\x94
\x93My, he was a feisty
one. I think that until we find out how he got so strong, we should
refrain from our...recreation with the gates.\x94
\x93Are we to close down?\x94
\x93Shut entirely. Let
not one creature in through the gate.\x94
\x93I\x92ll take care of it immediately.\x94
\x93Look, our friend is stirring.\x94
The raccoon rose unsteadily,
fairy corpses falling off of its fur. Looking around confusedly,
it fled from the strange human looking at it critically. It vanished
into the bushes, but the Pharon diode in its lower neck continued to pulse.
Puck watched the pulsing signal easily through the bushes, as the raccoon
wandered into one of the hollow logs scattered here and there around the
forest (10m avg. separation according to the pseudorandom Gauss position
algorithm. Good ol\x92 Gauss. He didn\x92t suffer long after he died.)
, and went to sleep.
A fairy appeared before
Puck. \x93Scan completed. Subject: Brian. Neural activity:
0.143.\x94
\x93A little high.\x94 he
laughed. \x93But certainly low enough that he won\x92t be waking up again.
Ever. Honored Gatekeeper, Brian is gone for good.\x94
\x93I\x92ll expect a report back.\x94
\x93Immediately.\x94
The hole in the sky vanished
and the light of the Gatekeeper faded into the normal daylight.
(Brian)
Brian listened from his dark lake, as Rac dutifully went about his curious ways, creeping closer to Puck. :Yes. Good. Follow him. Good, Rac.: ::Puck will go to the gate now. It\x92s my only chance to ever get through before he closes it.::
(Puck)
Puck found the little raccoon
easily, and measured its neural activity himself. 0.141. \x93It\x92s
gone down. Excellent. Brian now has the mental capacity of
a raccoon. A dumb one at that.\x94 Puck generously allowed a little
pride. He had succeeded as he always did. The Gatekeeper was
so distrustful. As anyone could see, Puck was completely reliable.
The Gatekeeper had given him harsh orders, but Puck\x92d had centuries to
learn how to twist orders. \x93He said no one gets in. That won\x92t
stop me from getting out occasionally for some fun. I\x92ll just put
the gate on a one-way valve.\x94
He felt more confident,
even spry. \x93Who do those bureaucrats think they are? Are they
out in the field? Do they deal with these stupid humans every day?
They\x92re going to take away the one bit of fun I have. I\x92ll just have
to do something about that.\x94
Maybe he should move to
a higher status. The ranks of Heaven were always full of opportunities.
Maybe he could move up in those ranks. Saddle someone else with this
kid\x92s body for awhile. But Puck was not one for desk jobs, and he\x92d
have to get a desk job before he went anywhere...up there.
Okay, so no desk job.
But what could it hurt to keep the gate open for him to play a bit?
As long as no one could get into this forest from Earth, there was no problem.
There was certainly no one on this side that wanted to get back to Earth,
since he most efficiently dealt with that Brian character. Nothing
to worry about at all. His problems solved, Puck whistled for his
horse. \x93No need to walk to the gate when you can fly.\x94 he told himself.
(Brian)
:Brian: Good. Keep following. Good, Rac. Don\x92t worry. Hungry? Just pretend ole man Puck has fish in his pockets. We\x92ll get food soon.:
(Eric)
Eric felt positively invigorated.
The sweet water of the stream had nourished his strong body, and he practically
leapt onto the run that appeared before him. The trees parted to
let him pass, and he flew. Like the wind, everything whipped past
him in a blur. He was lost in the fun and the fury. His breath
came out fire as the heat built up inside his body. Today was a very
good day. Very good. Eric could not think when it had been
better. He heard the whistle.
Puck, the little boy who
took care of him! He turned in his course and sprang towards the
sound. His whinny, a terror to others, seemed light and carefree
to his ears. Life was so much better than before, but Eric didn\x92t
think about before anymore. Not until he saw Brian.
The world snapped into a
slow weaving motion. The trees blurred into greyness, and his strides
seemed to slow as his senses heightened acutely. There, on the side
of the trail, was Brian. Or what was left of him. Brian the
raccoon stood frozen on the side of the trail, looking solemnly at
him. Eric floated by, almost in a dream. Shouldn\x92t he stop
and check on his friend? How was Brian doing? Had he had any
luck being a raccoon? Then, a memory tore Eric\x92s calm mood apart.
He saw Brian again, pinned under one of his hooves. \x93Do it.\x94
Puck had told him. All was seething rage and anger. He bit
down hard, just as Brian tore free of his grasp. Eric\x92s head had
come away bloody, but empty and his hoof still held a tuft of tail.
He was pacing alongside
Brian now. The little raccoon stared back at him in cold recognition,
bitter anger, and sorrow. The last emotion was clear in the hunch
of Brian\x92s shoulders, and it was the one thing Eric could stand the least.
Didn\x92t he understand? He should have listened! Brian never
listened. He hurt the Master! He had to be punished!
Why didn\x92t Brian understand? Why didn\x92t Brian listen to the words
that calmed Eric so much? The soothing words of a child...
(Brian)
Brian barely managed to turn
his head fast enough to follow the nightmare horse as it flew past him.
Was the Eric he knew still in there? Did he know what he was doing?
Eric raced to Puck\x92s beck and call without questioning. But even
as a donkey, his eyes had not been those of a dumb animal. In all
these weeks they\x92d been trapped here, Eric had never showed any signs of
recognizing his friend, and Brian\x92s latest scar proved it. But Brian
just could not accept that his friend was gone forever. There had
to be something left!
Poor Eric. In a way,
he was worse off than Brian. At least Brian had himself to rely on.
Eric had Puck, only Puck, and seemed perfectly happy about it.
\x93Don\x92t cry over losing your
friend.\x94, Brian told himself, letting Rac take him along Puck\x92s trail.
\x93It happens. Eric\x92s just fallen for Puck\x92s charm. What is there
not to like about Puck--.\x94 A thousand things popped through his head,
small acts of cruelty that left scars, like the one on his side, from Eric.
Puck could have healed it, but instead he chose to let the wound close
badly. \x93Was he hoping to cripple me?\x94 Brian wondered, \x93Or was
it just another attempt to break my spirit?\x94
\x93It doesn\x92t matter.
If I want to save Eric, I\x92ll have to get out of this place first, and away
from Puck. All I have to do is follow him until he reaches that gate.\x94
Brian walked a little further, following Puck\x92s scent.
\x93I wonder why Puck wants
to ride Eric now? He only uses the horse when he wants to get somewhere
very far away, very fast. The gate\x92s not that far. It\x92s\x97it\x92s\x97where
is that gate anyway?...uh, oh.\x94
Brian/Rac began to run.
(Eric)
The blinding rush ended in
an instant. Eric was panting, looking down at his Master. Puck
was beaming a child\x92s smile as he climbed on Eric\x92s back. The horse\x92s
heavy breathing managed to disguise the sound of a smaller body scrambling
up behind them, in the bushes. \x93Toward the mountains.\x94 Puck
said, waving an imaginary sword like a child playing soldier. \x93About
4 miles so I can check on the Barrier, then we\x92ll go 4 more miles along
the range. We\x92ll reach the gate in no time. Then, after I\x92m
done there, we can play \x93hunt\x94 again!\x94
At the mention of his favorite
game, the dark steed chortled in joy. It was what substituted for
a whinny, not exactly normal, but Puck understood immediately. Puck
joined, and his sweet bells rang along with the strange sounds of the nightmare
horse. The dissonance spun Eric\x92s head, and for a moment, he began
to remember.... Then, Puck kicked his sides and he was running again.
Happy. Fast as the wind. To the mountains.
(Brian)
As the thunder died down,
Brian sank to the ground. How would he ever get that far before Puck
closed the gate forever? Rac chittered soothingly. Brian barked
(it was more of a meep than a bark) his laughter. \x93It must look strange,\x94
Brian thought, \x93To see a raccoon comforting itself. I hope I\x92m not
crazy.\x94 He felt a cold stab of fear letting him know how serious
that last statement was. \x93I had to do some bad things with my mind
to get away from those fairies. I wonder if those wounds ever heal?\x94
Brian began calming down as Rac washed his face soothingly. Eventually,
he stopped, and Rac went back *down* to the lake. He could sense
Brian\x92s need to be alone.
Brian began drawing in the
dirt. He made a right triangle, one leg pointing at the mountains
and one leg running parallel to their course. The mountains were
an impassable line that bordered the edge of the forest. But a line
was all he needed. \x93Glad I paid attention back in Trig.\x94 Brian
thought, drawing some more mathematical figures. Finally, he put
his head down at the level of the ground, and sited along the leg of the
triangle drawn in the dirt. It pointed toward a purple mountain,
the only one capped with snow, far in the distance.
\x93My only chance is to go
as the crow flies.\x94 Brian thought. \x93Puck is taking the long way,
and I\x92ll have about 3/4ths the ground to travel. That snow mountain
is in the direction of the gate. I should run right into the gate
if I go that way.\x94
(Puck)
Puck brushed away the dead
bodies of birds on the Barrier machine, which had tried to fly over the
mountains. They lay all around the pulsing machine that contained
the forest within its specified boundaries. All beyond the boundary
was wasteland, the remains of some old dead planet that Puck had forgotten
the name of. Normally, the boundary only repelled the organisms that
tried to pass, but here it killed them. An unfortunate property
of the energy field of the Barrier: since it had to span the whole mountain
range, it was unavoidably concentrated near the main reactor. Puck
sighed. He was going to have to find a way to fix that little error
since they weren\x92t going to let him bring any more birds in through the
gate.
After dispelling the protective magic surrounding the metal casing, he
carefully inspected it, poking and prodding, and tinkering. There
were a few loose relays, but he sutured them up quickly and soon the machine
was running smoothly again. Perfect, as usual...Puck had to smile.
They\x92d picked him because
he was the best. Nothing had ever gotten away from him. Nothing.
He crawled out from the machine, and reset the wards. Some time had
passed, and his black stallion was nickering eagerly. What had that
horse been called, Cory, Joey...? Well, it didn\x92t matter. Now,
he was called horse. Puck hopped on his back, but paused for a moment
to admire his handiwork on the steed.
Imagine finding a mortal
capable of adopting any equine form! It was miraculous, but true.
Now, Puck could make his horse whatever he wanted. He hadn\x92t used
his full creativity in the design of this form, but the next one would
be even more fantastic. He was sure Joey, or whatever, would like
it. No more messing with those boring unicorns.
(Brian)
The unicorn colt leveled
its tiny horn directly at Brian. The wicked thing gleamed brightly
in the golden light from above. Brian didn\x92t move a whisker.
It pawed the ground, angrily. :I should gut you right now, or turn
you in to the Master.: it said in its strange mind-voice.
Brian moved, shaking his
head from side to side. He began trembling. That horn really
was sharp, and Brian wasn\x92t fast enough to avoid it. :Colt: You\x92ve
been nothing but trouble to Puck, and I see that his best efforts to exterminate
you failed miserably. That\x92s good.:
Brian meeparked once in
surprise, never looking away from that horn. It lowered a fraction
of an inch. :I\x92ll let you go, find your precious gate. Puck
never cared about us anyway. I hate him! Once he found that
other mount, and mother was left alone to founder...:
Brian looked around for
the mother. She was never far from her colt...
:Colt: She\x92s dead, you idiot!
Was I wrong? Did those fairy totally wipe your mind?:
Brian shook his head vigorously.
:Colt: She died when her
feet pained her so much. Puck didn\x92t even stop to help. He
was riding around on Eric. I love this forest! I love who I
am, but I can\x92t forgive Puck for what he did. He let mother die!
He could have saved her! She always followed him so faithfully.
Now she\x92s dead! Do you know, I once had a name?:
Brian shook his head again.
Who was this little unicorn? Somehow familiar.
:Colt: Puck took that away
too. Mother would have let me keep it, but Puck had to have his way.
We should never have listened to him! He was bad from the start.
Mother was...:
His equine face betrayed
no emotion, but the tears dropped from his eyes. Brian couldn\x92t help
himself. He went right up to that dangerous horn, and brushed the
side of his muzzle up against one of those long gangly legs. Trying
to keep the rattle out of his voice, he conjured up the most sympathetic
sound he could think of. The young colt seemed to understand.
He didn\x92t stop crying, though.
:Colt: And...now...we\x92re
stuck here, with this...madman Puck. If there was only some way out.
I can\x92t stand it here anymore. The blessed light has become just
another shade of darkness for me.:
:Brian: There is a way out!
I know where it is!: Brian so wished he could say those words.
He wanted to do more than his silly agitated chittering. But his
words were as lost as his humanity.
The unicorn turned his head
up straight, a dark silhouette in the golden light. :Get on my back,
then.:
Brian looked up quizzically.
What did he mean?
:Colt: Get on my back, and
I\x92ll take you where you need to go. What\x92s wrong, you told me there
was a way out.:
Had the unicorn read his
thoughts? Did it know what he was thinking? The unicorn stood
inconsolably glaring at him. Brian looked at his claws. They
wouldn\x92t fold all the way back. He wanted to say :I could hurt you...:
but maybe a growl and pantomime would work for communication--.
:Colt: Don\x92t worry about
hurting me. Not even wasps can penetrate this skin. Just be
careful.:
Again! Brian was desperately
curious how he\x92d communicated with the unicorn, but time was running out.
He took a small hop, and struggled his way onto the colt\x92s back.
::Good thing this wasn\x92t your mother.:: Brian thought, ::or I\x92d never be
able to climb up.:: Oh, no. :Did you just hear me?: Brian
asked fearfully.
:Colt: Hear you what?
No, I didn\x92t hear you and if you don\x92t tell me where this way out is, I\x92ll
buck you so hard, you won\x92t land for a day!:
Fear breeds ingenuity.
Brian tried thinking once more. It felt like when he was fighting
the fairies. He pushed outward with his mind. :I need to go
towards the purple mountain covered with snow.: he ventured carefully.
The world lurched as the unicorn sprang into motion, making a beeline for
the mountain. Brian held on miserably, but gladly. They would
make it to the gate on time!
(Puck)
The thunder gathered in clouds
overhead. The air filled with unreleased potential. The gate
was huge, spanning the river and both banks, a thin net of aether designed
to pull foolish mortals into the in-between realm that Puck presided over.
Puck\x92s hands glowed with an eerie fire that crawled from his tiny shoulders
before wisping off the tips of his fingers. The scene through the
gate shimmered and changed, until the familiar night of Earth could be
seen. \x93Foolish mortals, they still can\x92t get rid of the night.
Not like here where everything is perfect.\x94
As his hands touched the
ground, thunder boomed and lightning cracked, sounding for all the world
like the pounding of cloven hooves approaching from behind. Eric
looked up from his grazing, his face wet with the blood of the field mouse
he\x92d caught. Puck ignored him, absolutely concentrating on the ground.
Tendrils of force began to trickle away from him, towards the gate.
He remembered the ancient incantation as though he\x92d cast it yesterday...
(Eric)
As Puck concentrated his
power, Eric came out of the haze slowly. \x93Where am I? Where
is the Master?\x94 All Eric could see was a demon-child pouring force
into the ground. And a gate, a strange mirror that did not reflect
the scene set within it. Instead, it was filled with a dark not-day,
a strange scene devoid of light. It seemed to call him forward, a
land of blackness. A land he once knew. Eric suddenly longed
to return home, to the distant lands of his memories before Puck.
He was filled with indecision and he began to doubt that the master had
all good intentions. \x93Such an innocent boy, but look. He is
closing the gate! He\x92s taking away my home!\x94
The dark forest through
the gate was vanishing, as the edges were eased in by Puck\x92s machinations.
It distorted in a strange way that made Eric\x92s head hurt. Even though
the gate was perfectly flat, it became the shape of a funnel. The
Earth scene diminished to a small hole, then a point, while the opening
he looked through remained the same size. Eric blinked, but could
not make his eyes see the gate properly. He snorted in frustration.
However Puck was doing it, he was driving away that cool night.
(Brian)
Brian watched, hiding as
usual. Because of that tracking device, Puck could see him through
any cover of bushes, so Brian made sure to stay at Puck\x92s back, where he
wasn\x92t looking. Eric was off to the side watching the gate distort.
He seemed confused. \x93Is he coming to his senses?\x94 Brian wondered.
But he didn\x92t trust that horse anymore to check.
:They\x92re closing the gate!:
said one young large black unicorn standing over him.
:I know that.: Brian
responded. :But what can we do? Anyway, it looks like Puck\x92s
only closing one end. (confusion) Wow, the gate looks strange.
I can\x92t see it right without going all cross-eyed.:
:Colt: I can *see* it.:
the unicorn remarked emphatically. :You are right. He is only
closing one end.:
:Brian: We still might be
able to get through.: Brian hoped fervently. :But we can\x92t
move until Puck leaves.:
:Colt: Why not? I\x92ll
spit the bastard where he stands?:
:Brian: No, you don\x92t understand.
We\x92ve got to hide\x97it\x92s.... (tail-droop) It\x92s more than the
fact I\x92m a raccoon. Puck is powerful. Not even you could hurt
him. I tried before. It doesn\x92t work. He didn\x92t even
blink. Then, he did something to me, to punish me. It hurt.
It hurt worse than anything you would ever want to experience. Look
at the back of my neck. Can you *see* that?:
:Colt: Wow, yes. You\x92re
flashing like a goddam Christmas tree!:
:A what?: Brian turned
his nose upward, towards the Unicorn. :Do you know what a Christmas
tree is?:
:Sure, what? You mean
the tree with all the colorful lights and ornaments? I remem...hey.
I remember! Tell me about Christmas trees! I want to remember
more.:
:Brian: There may be hope
for you yet. Stop nickering like that! He\x92ll hear us.:
(Eric)
The ceremony completed, Eric
watched the little boy slowly stand up and straighten his shoulders as
though shaking off a great burden. He turned briefly with the weariness
of an old man. The fire on him died, and he looked up at Eric, his
blue eyes shining like gems.
Eric started from the relief
that washed over him. The Master was okay. Everything was okay.
He nuzzled at the hand the small boy offered. Puck smiled grimly,
but Eric didn\x92t notice. Everything was happy again. There was
nothing to worry about. He soon forgot about the gate entirely.
(Puck)
Puck felt a pang of tenderness
for his horse. He repressed it quickly. \x93Stupid animal.\x94
he thought to himself. \x93So intelligent, yet so weak to my charm.\x94
He turned around, facing
the gate again. Beaming his false smile, he spoke cheerfully.
\x93Well, glad that\x92s over with! There\x92s only one more security measure
to put in place.\x94 A fairy appeared before him, struggling under the
weight of a tiny stone. Puck took the stone gingerly. He placed
it before the entryway of the gate. It swelled and sank, becoming
flat and smooth. A granite tablet sat rooted into the soil while
underneath, the magic rock extended its tendrils, and bound itself to the
gate. Words appeared in blue on its face, flashing briefly then fading.
\x93Enter password.\x94
\x93Let\x92s see.\x94 Puck
smiled to himself. \x93Nothing special, just something to keep the animals
from slipping through. Something suitably ironic.\x94 He paused
in thought. \x93I know! I\x92ll use the name of that decrepit planet
those humans wanted so much to return to.\x94 He looked back at Oren,
or whatever his steed was called. The horse looked back at him lovingly.
\x93No chance of that now. With that Brian character at 0.141, there\x92s
no chance that he could even remember his own name, much less how to write
the password. I didn\x92t totally suppress Eric, but I don\x92t think he\x92s
able to consider disobeying me.\x94
(Eric)
Eric was contentedly munching on a brown rabbit whose neck he\x92d broken when it came out of its hole to cautiously inspect this strange horse. Part of his mind remembered the gate, and his friends, but that part was very small, and it didn\x92t scream very loudly when it was way down there...
(Puck)
\x93No my horse isn\x92t a problem. Hmm... But that unicorn colt...he\x92ll have to go. I should probably have finished him off when I gave his mother the founder. Now, he might remember something I wouldn\x92t want him to.\x94
(Brian)
Brian was suddenly aware of the very dangerous animal above him. The horn caught the sunlight like a wicked blade. It spoke, barely controlled in rage. :He...killed...her...: Puck went on oblivious to the deadly gaze behind him.
\x93No, no, no. I wouldn\x92t want that unicorn tracing the password with its horn, or something. I\x92ll have to kill it now, just to be safe.\x94
Brian knew what was going
to happen. :No! Don\x92t! You\x92ll get us both killed!:
:Colt: I don\x92t care! He killed mother! Bastard! I
don\x92t care if I never see another Christmas tree! He dies on my horn.
Now.:
The situation was becoming
desperate for Brian. The unicorn colt was stamping, and moving forward.
His horn gleamed in a beam of light that shone from above. Puck was
moving towards his stallion, but eeever so slooowly. Brian had no
choice. Brian stood in the way.
:Brian: You\x92ll have to kill
me before you kill yourself trying to kill him!: Suddenly, Brian
realized how futile his situation was. These claws of his had not
marked the unicorn\x92s hide. :Go for the nose.: Rac assured him.
Brian did not want to have to do that. He looked up helplessly, waiting
for the enraged unicorn to strike a fatal blow.
(Colt)
:Colt...:: Yesss. Kill
him. Kill Brian then kill Puck. KillBrianthenkillPuck.
Brian? No Brian. Just a raccoon.:: :You\x92re just a silly
raccoon.: he taunted. ::Kill the raccoon. Remove all
obstacles. Trees, rocks, mountains,...raccoons.::
: Please, I don\x92t want to
die.: came the frightened response from the obstacle below him.
But its thoughts were accompanied by a fearful growl. The foolish
creature thought to stand before him!
:Colt...:: Mother is dead,
and I will not be stopped, not even by Brian!:: Tears that flowed
down from his eyes were ignored angrily. ::Brian? Who is Brian?
Yes, my opponent. Brian is the raccoon. The raccoon is Brian
and I am...Bob.::
:Oh, god I\x92m Bob.:
Bob slipped onto his forelocks, and thudded point-first into the ground.
His head wasn\x92t stuck but he didn\x92t pull it up, instead stared at the ground,
weeping. The implications of what he would have done crashed in on
him with the fury of a hailstorm. He heard Puck, the golden boy step
onto his dark stallion. He heard the words out of Puck\x92s mouth.
\x93C\x92mon boy! Let\x92s
go. We have a unicorn to hunt!\x94 Eric gleefully chortled as
they went off like the wind, to comb the forests, to hunt and kill...him.
They were going to kill him! He\x92d almost walked right into his death.
Puck was so powerful, and Eric would have defended him...Bob was horrified.
His mother told him that they unicorns were guardians of everything full
of life and living, that they were protectors of the very things he\x92d tried
to destroy in his rage against Puck. :I\x92m all broken inside.:
was all he could say, as the silent equine tears ran down his muzzle.
Brian seemed to try to console
him; the little raccoon was still bristling from head to foot at the previous
encounter.
:Brian: Calm down. Nothing happened. They didn\x92t hear us.
They still think you\x92re back at the clearing. Everything\x92s going
to be okay. We\x92re going to make it.:
The ridiculous sight of
the raccoon, who was not much more than a scared puffball of fur, trying
to console him greatly alleviated his grief. He stopped crying, then
pulled his horn out of the ground. Looking at Brian, he remarked,
:Speak for yourself. You\x92re all puffed out like a dandelion.:
Brian chittered, in what
must have been disgust. He started smoothing down his fur.
:I do not look like a dandelion.:
:Bob: You do. Even
the fur on your ears is standing up!:
:Brian: Look, it just happens
when I get scared, okay? You try facing down an animal 3 times as
high as you and see if your fur doesn\x92t stand on end!:
:Bob: What you mean me?
I\x92d never hurt you!:
:Brian: Could have fooled
me.: Now Brian was using his tongue. Bob watched, fascinated.
How long had Brian been a raccoon, to figure that one out? As Brian's
tongue drew across his fur, smoothing it out in short strokes, Bob continued,
slowly.
: I\x92m sorry, it\x92s just that
I couldn\x92t stand losing Mother like that. When Puck said that he
killed her, I\x97I just couldn\x92t stop.:
: It\x92s okay. Like
I said, nothing happened. Bob, how\x92d you...I mean, you were dead!
That momma unicorn didn\x92t birth you, she impaled you through the chest!
I saw the body!:
: I don\x92t remember.
Everything is fuzzy. I know my name is Bob, and I\x92ll never let Puck
take that away from me again. But that is all I can remember.
Mother would never have impaled me! I was her colt!:
: You weren\x92t always a unicorn...:
Brian ventured.
: No, I have always...what
do you mean? Well, you might be right. I mean, you weren\x92t
always a raccoon, were you?:
: No.:
: I suppose I\x92ll have to
work on remembering more.: Bob stood up carefully. The dirt
fell from his flawless hide like it had never been there. He straightened
and watched Brian a bit more. Brian finished licking himself off, then
looked back.
: Brian: What?:
At that moment, a stubborn
tuft of fur sprang back up on Brian\x92s head, like a misplaced cowlick, bouncing
forward as on a spring. Bob drew out the tension a bit, then blurted
:You missed a spot.:
Brian looked back angrily
as the unicorn threw back its head and laughed. It was hard to stay
angry though. The laughter of a unicorn can be found in the babbling
of a quiet brook, or the rustle of trees in the evening wind. It
rings through church bells, and sings in the sounds of a summer rain.
Brian found himself laughing,
or at least his tail was laughing. He couldn't help but laugh in
the face of such joy. Bob seemed to get the meaning of his tail,
laughing harder. At last, Brian found the spot of fur on his head
and smoothed it down carefully. He forced himself to stop laughing.
They were running out of time.
:Bob, we\x92ve got to get through
that gate.: Brian warned. Prompted by the sudden seriousness
of the matter, Bob calmed down too. Together, they went down to inspect
the smooth stone tablet set into the earth.
(Puck)
Puck leapt off the horse
and landed running. The unicorn\x92s clearing had been trampled and
marked with hooves, but there was no sign of the unicorn anywhere.
\x93Where is he? He\x92s the only one that could ruin my plans! He\x92s
been gone from here for about an hour. He must have left before I
started the gate closing ceremony. Could it be that he remembered
himself? Maybe it was unwise to let his mother die like that.
No, it can\x92t be. Even if he did remember, he\x92d be confused.
He wouldn\x92t wander far. C\x92mon horse, we\x92ll find him soon, then you
can have a real feast!\x94
After another 2.78 minutes
of searching, Puck found nothing. \x93A unicorn leaves no trace as it
travels the wood. But there must be something! He can\x92t just
have gone and left! I don\x92t believe this. The only one who
can ruin my plans, and disfavor me with the Gatekeeper, and I can\x92t find
him.\x94
:Not the only one.:
his horse prompted helpfully, pointing its muzzle northeast. Puck
looked, then horror dawned in his eyes. Horror and rage. For
far in the distance, the Pharon diode within Brian\x92s neck was pulsing.
Its clear signal spanned the distance between Puck and the raccoon.
He carefully measured its intensity, and trajectory, and...
\x93He\x92s at the gate!\x94
Puck screamed, leaping 6 feet onto the back of his horse. Blindly
kicking it into a rage, Puck flew like the wind.
(Brian)
There was no breeze at the
gate. Everything was strangely quiet. The wind was late, it
seemed.
Brian paused, frustrated.
:Brian: I don\x92t understand.
I tried Earth, and nothing happened.:
:Bob: Did you do it right?:
:Brian: Yes, I made the
imaginary letters with my...claw and nothing happened.:
:Bob: Try something else.:
:Brian: What else could
it possibly be? Wait. Earth has more than one name.:
He traced the words Gaea,
Planet, World, Terra. Nothing worked.
:Hurry!: Bob urged.
:They are coming!:
Brian quickened his pace.
What would Puck have called Earth anyway? Globe, Vale, Tellus, Geosphere.
The wind was picking up
now. Soon, Eric would be along with it. Brian was getting desperate.
He scratched frustratedly at the unmarked stone. The whole thing
was pointless! What was he thinking, trying to escape? He might
as well have kept drawing things in the dirt. The dirt. Dirt...?
The gate hummed back to
life. Bob looked at Brian, incredulous.
:Bob: Dirt?:
:Of all the nerve.:
was all Brian could say. :He thinks our planet is called Dirt.:
Brian looked down the impossibly long tunnel that diminished to an obscenely
small point at the end. Did the Earth still lie beyond that gate?
Was he, instead, walking to his death? Brian stepped forward in the
whipping winds. :I wonder if this\x92ll hurt...:
(Eric)
Eric screamed as his quarry
vanished from his senses, the sonic wave of the gate\x92s magic ruffling through
the trees. Puck was shouting as they burst in on the mouth of the
river. They rushed into the scene, only to find an empty gate, with
the markings of a raccoon and a unicorn foal in the dirt all around it.
There were some other footprints too, lapine in nature. They seemed
to lead a straighter path directly into the gate. The word Dirt,
scratched by a raccoon paw was glowing red on the stone tablet. "Blast!"
his master said furiously, shaking his fist at the gate. "They didn't
open it properly! The transmit signal has been ruined! They
could be anywhere by now."
Puck started forward, toward
the gate, then stopped, cupping his chin in his hand thoughtfully.
He summoned a fairy. It appeared before him, querulous. \x93Turn
off the Pharon diode.\x94 he instructed it, in icy fury. It responded
in mind-voice. :Course of action not advisable. Subject becomes
completely undetectable when the Pharon diode is deactivated.:
\x93Continue as ordered.\x94
Puck said. He had to turn off the diode, now. 'Couldn\x92t risk
any of Them getting a hold of Brian. They surely knew Brian had come
through the gate, but without the diode They wouldn\x92t be able to locate
Brian any better than Puck could. Puck slowly stopped raging and
thought \x93Yes. This is what I need. Time to think and
plan. Once we\x92re prepared, we can turn on the diode and have
Brian and his friend snatched up before....They can get Their slimy hands
on him. Until then, we\x92ll lay our traps.\x94 He turned to his
horse and said cheerfully. \x93Don\x92t worry, we\x92ll go hunting soon.
This time, for raccoon...\x94
Eric shuddered involuntarily, as he feared that golden child, for the first time.
Copyright 2000, Starling. Please do not reprint without permission.
To
main stories page
I have used a special notation
designed to overcome the limitation of quotation marks. I hope it\x92s
not too confusing. Just to clear anything up, quotes are still
normal. Where you see quotation marks, they can be interpreted as
words, speech, or private thought, depending on the context of the sentence.
Any clause enclosed in colons is similar to a quote, but more accurately
termed as an \x93active thought.\x94
In my story, I am proposing
an entirely new medium of communication, which requires a new grammatical
notation. Words and ideas are sent directly from one mind to another.
This far surpasses speech and communication in some ways, but also has
its limitations. Without a media such as sound, communication can
not be recorded (at least, not without magic). However, language,
and ability to generate sound is not required for mindspeak. Words,
as abstract concepts, are still important. They help us connect ideas
together abstractly. However, the meaning of the word is sent, not
the word itself.
This is not mind reading.
Thoughts are *transmitted* not invaded. Someone must actively try
to send their message (in a magically enabled universe). All sentient
animals, and magical beings share this system of communication. It
was developed, or evolved depending on the historian, so that all creatures
of every size and shape could communicate on the same level. If you
want to know more about its ancient history, you\x92ll have to ask the trees.
This is not a replacement for quotations. Just a clarification. All the following ideas may be written in context, with quotation marks, though I'll try to stick to one way or the other.
Notation 1
[:Name]:<Message>(emotional clause)<message>...:
The name of the sender of
the message is often identified at the beginning. This is an actual
element in the story. Characters can learn each other\x92s names, just
by speaking to one another. The name must be known by the sender.
If the sender doesn\x92t know their own name, a more general term is used.
The \x91name\x92 is really the defining characteristic about onesself, and does
not neccessarily have to be a word. In some cases, when the context
is well established, no name must be sent.
Messages are thoughts, conversations,
recollections. For creatures with languages, the grammatical statements
go here. The statements within parentheses are emotions, feelings,
impressions, body language.
:Starling: Wallah! (flickofthewrist) This is a sentence I\x92m sending to you. I didn\x92t actually flick my wrist. The emotional clause is intended to give the *impression* of flicking my wrist. I could have emoted (proudly whimsical) for an equal effect.:
Notation 2
My thoughts on thoughts:
I considered that since
my :: notation was being used for non-vocal conversation, I would confuse
people to death if I reverted back to \x93\x94 notation for private thoughts.
Here is an example of the problem I\x92m worried about.
\x93Hello, Joe.\x94 Steve said.
\x93Hello, Steve.\x94 Joe replied.
\x93I\x92m telepathically active!\x94 Steve said.
\x93Well, I\x92m not.\x94 Joe pouted.
:Adrian: Hey Steve! :
:Steve: Hello Adrian. Where did you come from? :
:Adrian: Writers liscense. How have you been? :
:Steve: Just fine.:
\x93I can\x92t hear what anyone is saying!\x94 Joe thought.
Notice how the last sentance
seems almost to be shouting, even though it is a private thought.
We were led to expect that thoughts are spoken with ::, then, out of the
blue, a thought was thrown at us with \x93\x94! For this reason, I made
:::: clauses. (That\x92s four colons folks!)
:: clauses can be heard and understood by those who are sensitive to
direct transfer of thoughts. Clauses enclosed in two *double* colons
are similar, except that they refer to private thoughts, not transmitted,
only known by one person (and one personality in Brian\x92s case.) ::::
clauses are only heard when the listener really *is* reading the victim\x92s
mind.
While normally public, ::
clauses can be focused specifically at another, much like whispering, but
that must be taken from the context of the situation. Examples will
probably make things clear.
Normal quote:
\x93I am speaking, thinking privately, or actively sending my thoughts
to others.\x94 Starling says.
Active thought:
:Starling: I am not necessarily emitting sound. I am communicating
on a more basic level. This form of comunication can include emotions
(in parenthesis) :
Passive/private thought:
:Starling::I am now only thinking to myself. To know these thoughts
is an invasion of the privacy of my mind. (outrage/fear/struggle)
Typically, private thoughts are less controlled, though they are more often
true.::
Before each thought, the speaker\x92s name is prepended, unless the identity of the speaker is deliberately concealed or unknown. In a well established conversation, the name-tag might be omitted, since people already know who they are talking to.
^.^ Just a litte rant from a finicky programmer at heart.