New Frontier
1
Gordon Sands pulled back the string on his silver bow as he listened. He had appeared on the edge of a desert with dunes stretching for miles in one direction. Mountains covered with trees lay the other way. Gordon heard the clicking again, wondered where it came from. He looked around, afraid to move until he knew what he was dealing with.
A skeleton of an elephant stepped from the trees of the forest leading to the mountains. It waved its tusks at Sands as it charged. Goring him should be easy.
Sands let fly with the silver arrow he had ready. It bounced off the skull of the thing. The adventurer drew another arrow out of thin air as the skeleton kept charging at him. The second arrow bounced against the shoulder joint without causing it to turn aside.
Sands drew another arrow, knowing he didn't have a hope of hitting anything vital. He needed something like a tank to do any real damage. If he could get around it, maybe he could lose it in the forest. It was a weak plan, but it was all he could think to do.
He waited for the skeleton to commit to a final charge before throwing himself out of the way. The elephant stepped on the sand, and started to sink. It tumbled as the desert fled from its touch. The adventurer stepped back as the undead animal fell forward and then out of sight with a silent scream.
Sands let the arrow fade as he stepped away from the shifting desert floor. Maybe the forest would be a better way to go. He put the bow in a pocket of his brown jacket as he headed toward the mountains in the distance. He hoped his ultimate goal rested somewhere in the misty sky up there.
Otherwise he would have to rewalk his trail until he got it right. He didn't want to think of having to cross that bottomless sand pit.
A path opened for Sands as he walked. The forest frequently cut off his view of his goal, but the trail led him straight among the trees. He knew the environment was alive, and mutable. For now it was helping him. That could change at any time.
A white goat appeared on the path in front of Sands. Tiny wings jutted from its back. Black horns curled around its ears as red eyes regarded Sands with a baleful intelligence. A small puff of smoke leaked from its nostrils when it breathed.
"How's it going?," Sands asked. It was better to take the initiative than wait for the beast to display a vicious temper. "I don't mean any harm. I'm just visiting for a little bit, then I'll leave."
"Man," said the goat, beard trembling as it spoke. "You have no business here in my Forest of Ten Thousand Trees. Go back before some fell creature appears to dispense with you."
"I can't go back," said Sands. "I can only go forward until I reach the room leading to the exit. I must keep moving in that direction. Can you help me?"
"I have warned you," said the goat. "That is all that I will do for you. Good luck on your quest."
The goat stepped off the path. Its white coat became a blur on the green. Then it was completely gone from Sands's sight. A hoarse bleat sounded once.
Sands resumed walking, listening to the gentle breeze teasing his surroundings. A crystal tone belled over the swaying branches over his head. Then another arrived. Then another. Then a song danced on the air, drawing the traveler forward.
Sands noticed the grass, and rocks dancing to the wordless tune. He felt much the same way, but tried to retain his control. He didn't have time to start on a jig when he still needed to conclude his business as fast as possible. Anything on the path could be a life threatening danger to him.
2
Sands paused in a clearing a little farther down the path. A shirtless man sat on a rock a little off the center of the space. A red guitar sang in his hands as blond hair flopped above a red bandanna. The traveler marveled at the way the fabric of reality warped at the music flowing from the instrument.
Sands pushed around the edge of the trees, holding his hands over his ears. The music beat through his skull as he told himself to keep going. He knew he was lost if he stopped to really listen to the music. His journey would be at an end, and he would be evicted from the lands he walked.
Sands realized that the Guitar Player had turned the full force of his effort to stopping the adventurer's progress with his music. He needed to get away from the clearing. He needed to get away as fast as possible.
Sands took one hand away from his ears, reaching into his jacket. He pulled out a crystal rod as long as his thigh. He pointed it at the musician and squeezed it in the palm of his hand. Silence reigned. Everything stopped moving in astonishment. The Guitar Player looked down at his instrument, frowning at its failure.
Sands got to the far edge of the clearing before the silencing rod shattered in his hand. The musician smiled, placing his thumb to a silver string. Once he started playing again, he would suck his visitor back deeper in the clearing. The traveler pulled a sign on a post from his jacket, and slammed it down in the grass so that it stood upright where the Guitar Player could read it.
The sign's red letters said, "NO MUSIC WITHIN 50 FEET OF THIS SIGN."
The Guitar Player flung his red instrument to the ground in fury as Sands followed the path out of the clearing and out of sight. The musician stomped his appliance with heavy boots, then collapsed on his rock. Long fingered hands covered his face as he cried silently.
Sands ran down the path, aware that the land's defenses had focused on him. Anything could try to exterminate him now. He had to finish his journey as fast as possible. If something killed him in that place, he would die in the real world. Someone would find him days, maybe weeks, later like rotted fruit.
A gray goat resembling the first one he had encountered stepped on the path. Smoke rolled from its nose as it glared at the visitor.
"Did not my brother ask you to leave the forest posthaste?," the gray goat said, flapping the small wings on its back. "Do not go forward if you value your life."
"I can't turn back," Sands said. "My goal is ahead and I can't turn aside until I reach it."
"Do not go forward," said the gray goat, before turning and disappearing among the trees.
Sands started walking again. He couldn't give up when he knew he was so close to his goal. If he quit now, he would have to return later. He just didn't know if he could return once he had decided to give up. He couldn't chance that.
He had to keep moving on.
Sands heard a battering to his left. He sped up, eyes where the source of the cracking wood seemed to be. It had to be another monster of some kind. His best bet was to avoid it. He was so focused on what was off the trail, he didn't notice the man in the green hat until he bumped into a broad chest.
"Excuse me," Sands said, stepping back. "I didn't see you."
Massive hands grabbed Sands's arms, lifting him off the ground until his feet dangled. Wild staring eyes glittered under bushy white brows as a grimace split the bushy beard hanging to the forest dweller's waist.
"I think I will have your nose for your impertinence," said the other man, hot breath blowing on Sands's face as he spoke. "Which side should I start on?"
"How about neither," said the traveler, one hand reaching into his jacket pocket. It came out with a purple orb holding a pyramid turning to point when it moved. The orb glowed, summoning a dune buggy out of thin air. The car fell on top of the bigger man, crushing him to the ground.
Sands rubbed his arms as he got behind the wheel of the dune buggy. He drove away from the spot as a giant panda with a bamboo club burst out of the nearby trees in front of his summoned conveyance. A machine gun was balanced on the back of the ATV. One burst sent the beast diving for cover as the traveler roared away as fast as the buggy could carry him.
3
Sands drove his dune buggy as far as he could before he parked it off the trail, and started walking again. He had a feeling he was close to his destination, no thanks to the natural defenses he had encountered. His presence warranted that reaction, even though he had hoped to blend in with the psychic world. Using force would only trigger more defenses as he went along. He needed to move more carefully.
Sands watched his step as he paced along. He saw an indentation in the dirt in front of him. He stepped to the left, carefully going around instead of stepping over the shallow circle. The ground trembled as he skirted whatever was buried there.
Sands made it back to the center of the path, and started jogging. The ground creaked behind him as he fled. He glanced back. A scorpion's tail stabbed the air around the pit, searching for its prey.
Sands crested a hill, frowning when he saw a large fire ahead. A battle seemed to be taking place as a thing like a crab combined with a turtle rampaged among the town's folk. A warrior maiden arrived first, battling the turtle crab with her gleaming blade. Then a samurai arrived with his banner waving in the wind. The three fought with swords and claws in the flickering fire light.
Then a battalion of armored knights arrived, shouting their war cry as they joined the battle. The turtle crab was hard pressed, trying to parry with its massive claws as it was beset on all sides by the human warriors.
Which one was the dreamer?
Sands knew the dream persona representing the dreamer was on the battlefield. He just couldn't tell which one it was. If he made the wrong decision, he could kill the dreamer by mistake.
The decision was taken out of his hands when a thing on wings solidified out of shadows and rushed forward with a sword for a hand. It swung at Sands in fury, trying to drive him back from the inferno below. He fell out of the way, extracting a monkey's paw from his jacket as the shadow fiend sliced the air in its efforts. The traveler swung the paw, summoning golden strands from its palm. The magic wrapped around the thing. The beast snuffed out in a puff of smoke.
Sands took a deep breath as put the paw away as he stood up. He needed to clear the field and find the real mind behind it all. He was fairly sure that it was not the swordsman, or the armored army. He pulled a black disc out of his pocket and flung it toward the battlefield. His mind gave his toss preternatural distance and accuracy. It dropped below the samurai, turning into a hole. The warrior fell out of sight in an instant. The loud crash of his armor echoed to where the traveler stood.
Time for phase two.
Sands gestured, saying a blessing for the dead. The army below vanished, sinking into the ground in a mix of skeletons and rusted metal. That left two, one of which was the dreamer. The question was which one?
Sands took out an amulet, wondering which fragment was the mask the dreamer hid behind. If he got it wrong, there was no telling how much damage he would do to the mind behind the mask. He didn't want to gamble but he didn't know what else to do.
He held the amulet up, calling on the power within. A shade appeared around the jeweled face of the disc. The thing gibbered at him, wanting to know his demands. He pointed at the crab turtle, commanding it to take the limited power from the fragments that he had already destroyed, and feed it to the monster.
Sands felt a twinge of anxiety, but concentrated on his task. That pushed the fear aside enough for him to finish the job as quickly as he could.
The turtle crab exploded in a thousand needles. Sands stepped back, raising a flaming shield to protect his face, and upper body, from the shrapnel. Some of the long spines struck him in the legs. He fell back, wrapped in pain.
The cardinal rule swam through his mind as he tried to survey the damage to his limbs through the excruciating pain. He had been hurt before, but nothing as painfully as this.
Sands pulled a transparent bottle of red liquid from his pocket, laying his shield aside for later use if he needed it. He thumbed the stopper out of the bottle's mouth and gulped the liquid down as fast as he could. The spines began popping out of his legs as the medicine went to work repairing his body. Fire ran through his system, renewing his strength.
Sands got to his feet, putting his flaming shield away as he examined the battlefield below. He couldn't see the turtle crab, which struck him as wrong somehow. The area around where the thing had stood had been cleared by the deadly spray. At least he knew he hadn't killed the dreamer with his act. If he had killed her, he would have been ejected to the real world when the dreamer died.
Sands shook his head. He was back to where he started with no clue how to proceed. He needed a foolproof way to locate the dreamer and try to straighten things out a little bit to help her in the real world.
Sands searched his pockets, hoping for some inspiration. He uncovered a device he had seen in another dream. It was perfect for what he wanted. Things might be finally going his way.
Sands worked the blades of the pocket knife he held until a small screen appeared. He pointed it in a circle until an arrow appeared to point him in the right direction. He started walking.
4
Sands followed the conjured arrow until he saw a silver wolf in the distance. It could be another fragment, a piece of imagination wandering the dreamscape. It could be a mask the dreamer hid behind so that Sands couldn't catch her, and help her vanquish her fear.
Sands ran after the wolf, spotting the flock of bats that appeared out of the night sky overhead. The wings beat the air as the night predators descended on the loping canine as it ran across the grasslands. It snapped at the flying rats with its powerful jaws when they swooped too close for comfort.
Sands stopped, concentrating on the mystic words he used in the battle in the burning village. Tendrils of purple light extended from his hands, whipping through the night as he finished warping the dream to his will. The spell wrapped around the flying beasts. They dropped to the ground, uncaring about the hard impact since they were asleep from the mind warping that the adventurer had placed on them.
Sands smiled at the result. That was excellent from his point of view. The wolf had paused in its headlong flight to look back at him. He thought he saw a glimmer of recognition in its eyes, before it turned and fled again. The adventurer ran after it, legs and side hurting from the effort.
He knew his body was suffering in the real world as much as if everything around him was an actual place.
Sands ground to a halt, huffing and puffing for breath as the silver wolf vanished in the distance.
He needed another plan.
Sands pulled out his telescope to watch the wolf disappear in the distance. He did his best to plot out a path so that he could catch up to the fragment. It had to be the dreamer's real personality, and he needed to catch up somehow. He looked for an easier path so that he could get ahead as quickly as possible. He thought he saw something ahead.
He put the telescope away as he ran toward the trail he had selected to get ahead of the wolf. He hoped that his will would boost his speed to match that of the canine. He was sure that he could intercept the beast. Then his real job could begin.
Sands jogged until he came to a patch of pumpkins with one being the size of a man. He paused, thinking which way would help get closer to the fleeing wolf when an eye and a jagged mouth opened on that biggest melon. It laughed at the adventurer as mist issued over the triangular teeth.
Sands stepped back from the threat.
Sands couldn't think of anything to get him out of this unexpected confrontation. He berated himself for not being more careful. It was painfully obvious that the dreamer was afraid of him on some level and his mind was instinctively putting up barriers to keep him away.
Sands reached into his jacket, thinking of anything that could help him out of his situation. He needed something quick before the moving pumpkin could try to wrap him up in its tentacle-like vines. His hand stumbled on something that could be a help if he could step back from the sentient vegetable.
Sands drew his hand out from his jacket pocket and flung a white card at the pumpkin. It struck the thing on its carved face. The light went out of its one eye, and it collapsed on one side of its round body. Snores issued from its jagged mouth.
Sands smiled as he cautiously walked around the sleeping jack o' lantern. That had been a close one, but he had scraped by with a little leftover magic. Now if only confronting the dreamer was that easy.
At least the goats had stopped trying to warn him about the dangers of his quest.
Sands came to a spot where a large stream flowed out of the trees of the forest, and fell over a cliff's edge. He stood undecided on which direction to take to catch up with the lost dreamer when three different serpents converged on him.
Sands ran as a dragon with a shield wrapped around its body swooped down on him. A cobra with a tesla generator attached to the end of its tale shot a bolt of lightning at his legs. Another piece of electricity struck out from the spiked thing in the river. The adventurer dove over the jagged lines as he avoided the stooping dragon's claws.
Sands ran for a lonely looking house in the distance. He needed to take cover from the triple onslaught before he was fried, or clawed beyond recognition.
He had no intentions of dying in his sleep.
5
Sands reached the house standing by itself. He realized this could be a worsening of his situation. The house's interior seemed to be covered with some kind of sticky stuff. There was no way he could run across it to the other door he could see directly opposite where he stood.
Sands turned to face his three adversaries. He didn't have the muscle to face any of them separately, and he couldn't think of any tricks he might have on his person. This looked bad.
The adventurer ducked away from a swooping claw as he thought furiously. He had to have something he could use to get out of this trap. He knew he did. His hands patted his pockets as he dodged bolts of lightning. He smiled as he found something he could use to get out of this mess.
Sands dragged a bag out of his outer jacket pocket. He aimed the mouth of the bag at the three monsters, grabbing the string that held the sack closed. His hand pulled the cord untied. A tornado ripped through the area in a swirling cone. The high wind slammed the creatures easily before fading away.
Something grabbed the sea beast while it was stunned, and dragged it under. A fin broke the surface the moment before purple blood covered the surface of the water.
A shark is a shark, no matter where it is, Sands thought, as he dropped the useless bag at his feet.
The other two monsters seemed too stunned to stop him from proceeding, so he ran around the house trap, trying to pick up the trail of the dreamer again.
6
Sands walked for a few yards, looking at the encroaching undergrowth. Something about the outlines bothered him until he figured out what. Branches had been cast down to camouflage something that looked like a tank. A metal face decorated the front of the juggernaut. The artist had rendered it to be sleeping.
One eye opened on the grotesque face. An empty space regarded the adventurer as the lips curled into a sneer.
"What do you want?," the tank asked.
"I would like transport if that isn't too much of a bother," said Sands. "I'm trying to find the dreamer of this place and talk to her. Unfortunately I have encountered various fragments barring my way. Can you help me?"
"I could, but what's in it for me?," asked the tank, rolling forward on the multiple wheels visible under the lower edge of side armor designed to protect the metal tires from being penetrated by enemy fire.
"I am sure your help will gain you a more prominent place in this dream land," said Sands. "I don't have anything that would be useful to you, nor any other way to advance any status that might be in effect. I'm from the outside, looking in."
"From the outside?," said the tank. "Maybe you can take me outside with you if I help you find the dreamer. That would be a good bargain."
"Are you sure?," said Sands. "This is a much better place to live."
"A ride for a ride, pal," said the tank. "That seems fair to me."
"I agree to your terms," Sands said. "Shall we be going? I don't have much time, and I don't want to have to start my search again tomorrow night."
"Hop on board," said the tank, as it rolled free of its cover. "And we'll get going."
Sands climbed up the sides of the thing as carefully as possible. Something chewing your hand off in a dream would render it useless in the real world. The tank rolled forward as the adventurer settled in a spot behind its cannon.
Gordon Sands and his ally pushed along through the forest. The tank kept up a running monologue about everything they saw. The adventurer said nothing, kept his eyes on any sign of the dreamer. He didn't know how much time he had before she waked up and he was forced out to the real world.
He didn't think he had too much longer.
"You see that light over there," said the tank. "That's supposed to be something to call for intervention if there is something wrong. A lot of us are fragmentary so we don't get to see it. I heard that from an old timer, a reoccurrer."
Sands nodded, understanding this could be just what he needed to cut to the chase. A direct line to the dreamer would take him right where he needed to be to find out what had drawn him to this one dream.
"Let's see if we can hitch a ride," he said.
The tank barreled toward the light as it moved across the changing landscape. To the two travelers, it looked as if the column vanished into the sky, leaving behind things formed from the fears of the dreamer as she rolled over, and her mind switched focus. Sands entered the light first, broke apart to ride the wave to a room of darkness where a princess lay in state. He blinked his eyes to adjust to the dim light.
Sands stepped to one side as his companion appeared piece by piece from the intervening light. He was not sure how to proceed if the dreamer was dreaming in her own dream. He needed to talk to that central piece of ego aware of the outside world if he wanted to help her with the problems he had noticed.
How could he proceed now?
"Who dares invade the inner sanctum?," said a strong voice. The owner stepped out of the shadows, a long green cloak folded over one arm, hiding it from view. Cold eyes glared at the newcomers from under the brow of a winged helmet. "Speak, trespassers, speak."
"My name is unimportant," said Sands, holding up his hands. "I just want to help your mistress so that she might enjoy her dreams again. How long has she been like this?"
"No one has the ability to banish the night terrors," said the guardian, gesturing his cloak away from his hand to reveal the curved sword he held. "You will pay for that lie."
"I don't have time for this," Sands said, holding up his hand. Dream letters glowed to life as he overwhelmed the guardian with his will. "You will respect my wish."
The guardian subsided, pushed back by the force of Sands's will. The intruder knew it was a temporary measure until he could wake the dreamer and help her take control once and for all. Nightmares should be temporary, not an all-encompassing thing that made every night pure horror.
Sands inspected the dreamer, on her dream bed. He had to wake up this fragment to show her how to control her dreams. Then she could sleep in peace, perhaps work out a solution to her problems in the real world. The dreamer should be in control of her dreams, not the other way around.
He pulled a clown doll from his pocket, placing it on her chest. The sleeper awakened from her slumber. The clown groaned as she squeezed it. The chamber lit up as she wanted light to see her visitors by. She frowned at the sight of both men, more at Sands in his brown suit than her own guardian.
"What's going on?," she said. "Where am I?"
The chamber rumbled at her agitation, dust and chunks of rock dropping to the ground. The lights on the wall shook, blinking their distress.
"You're asleep," Sands explained. "Everything around you is a dream. It responds to your thoughts and desires."
"What do you want?," the dreamer asked.
"I would like to help you overcome whatever is giving you nightmares," said Sands, holding up his hands. "So you can be happy in the waking world."
"No one can help me," said the dreamer. "I live in terror every day, every night. Sleep is no escape from him."
The roof of the chamber burst apart above them. A large hand pulled the roof's stones away in a fiery shower. The guardian stepped in front of the dreamer, a sword drawn as he faced the intruder.
"I have you now, slut!," said the giant, face glaring down through the hole. "You'll pay for this with the strap. You hear me? The Strap!"
"Don't listen to him," said Sands, grabbing her shoulders. He felt her bones shake as she stared helplessly up at her tormentor. Her guardian was the last defense her tired mind had against the pervading fear she felt. If that fell, there would be no way for her to help herself. "You have to take control of your dream. You have to if you want to change everything else. This might be your last chance."
"I don't know how!," screamed the dreamer, sobbing. "I don't know how!"
"I want you to think of something that will give you a hope, a feeling of happiness," said Sands. "Your creation will have the upper hand if you want it to, but you have to want it. You have to express your will. That's your only chance."
She nodded, eyes closed as she thought of all the things that had once brought her joy.
7
The earth shook under Sands and the dreamer as her thought became reality. A winged creature burst through as their flaming tormentor reached for them. The man in the brown suit pulled his charge back from the hand, and their new ally.
The giant looked surprised as the purple beast extended from the ground with a furious roar, reaching for him with its talons as it grew. He caught it in both hands as it tried to push him back.
"It's up to you," said Sands, stepping back from the battle of wills. "You are in charge here, not your fears, not your real world problems. Take command here, and you take command in the outside world."
The dreamer stared as the creature she had summoned from the earth tried to rip and tear at the flaming giant. She glanced at the man in the brown suit, knew he spoke the truth without asking. She turned back to the battle, shouting encouragement to her still growing beast. It roared angrily as the giant tried to push by it with the use of its massive arms. It went for his face, purple muzzle stretching as the dreamer's will still flowed into it. They both crashed over, flinging a cloud of loose debris into the air.
Sands knew there wasn't anything more he could do but watch. The dreamer would have to fight off her fear on her own. If he pulled a gadget out of his pocket to aid her, that would just undermine what he wanted her to be able to do in the real world.
How could he expect her to stand up for herself when she was awake, if he wouldn't let her do it in her sleep?
The dragon seized the flaming man by the neck with its expanding jaws. It continued to grow as it forced its way on the fear. The dream's edges faded as more of the mind focused on the conflict that had finally come to the fore. The castle chamber became a platform for the dreamer, Sands, the swordsman, while the rest of the dream was taken with the battle raging in the void above them.
The dragon's jaws snapped completely through the burning fear. It roared in triumph as the fragment split apart in glowing bubbles. The landscape shifted as the dreamer wanted a garden of flowers blooming around a metal frame table, with a soft chair to sit in.
Sands smiled as he looked around. Then he let himself fade piece by piece from the dream. He would have to visit again to check on the dreamer, but thought she finally had banished her fear for good.
Epilogue
Gordon Sands sipped his milk as he read the paper. His brown jacket rested on the back of the kitchen chair, waiting for him to finish his morning ritual before he crossed Old Troy to his job as an accountant.
Sands pulled on his jacket after his breakfast was done. He locked up the house as he stepped outside. He had ten minutes to get to his bus stop on the corner. Plenty of time as far as he was concerned. He paused as he walked past his neighbor's house. Sometimes he could hear the couple who lived there fight from where he passed on the sidewalk. The husband was a weaselly bully. He had spoken to him enough to know not to trust the man.
Sands paused, unsure what this new silence could mean. Interfering in others' dreams was a tricky business that could lead to explosions that he couldn't foresee. It was like trying a key in a door, when you didn't know what was waiting behind the door.
The accountant decided that perhaps he should at least knock on the door, and say hello. He tried to think of some excuse he could offer for his sudden interest in his neighbors' affairs. He didn't want to say I am checking to see if one of you is still alive.
As Sands stepped on the porch, he heard a loud clang of metal on flesh. There was some sobbing, then a scream. He rushed to the door, banging on it with a fist. He called out at the top of his lungs before circling the house. He was already regretting his interference now.
Sands was glad that this piece of property didn't have anything to block his way as he ran for the back door. He heard another loud clang and the sound of breaking glass as he turned the corner. He grimaced at what he saw.
Mrs. Conner, the dreamer he had tried to help, had a black eye and a split lip. She held a frying pan in her hand. Sands spotted hot grease dripping from it as she raised her hand. She brought it down on her husband's head while the accountant ran to stop her.
The loud clang resounded again as Mr. Connor floundered against the door. His face had already been burned by what looked like grease and fried eggs. He made it out of the back door, and fell down the steps as he tried to get away from the sudden lioness bearing down on him.
Mrs. Connor dropped the pan, as her husband scrambled away from the back porch. He ran around the house, and away from the beating that was being given to him by the smaller woman. Her split lip and bruised eye may have been serious, or not, but Sands thought she should have it looked at by a doctor.
"Mrs. Connor?," Sands said. "Please sit down. I'll call an ambulance for you."
The woman collapsed in a wooden chair by the kitchen table. The other had fallen over when she had hit her husband the first time. That must have been a surprise for him.
Sands picked up the phone, dialed 911, and wondered at what he had caused.