The Empty Door

by E. R. Mason

Cassiopia stared with surprise at the unfriendly world she had created. The landscape was flat and open, and a wide, straight, paved road originated near the SCIP door and ran off into the empty distance. A bright red, open-air vehicle was parked nearby. It had fat, off-road tires and a fold-down front windshield. These things were as she had intended, but very little else was.

  The sky was gloomy and storm-darkened. Low wisps of threatening clouds drifted quickly by overhead. Far in the distance, thick bolts of white lightning arced to the ground explosively, though no sound of thunder could be heard. What should have been healthy green fields bore only dead, brown grass. A steady, temperate wind that had the smell of impending storm pushed persistently at everything in its path.

  Cassiopia wrestled to tie back her hair as the silver body of TEL emerged from the dark reflections in the secondary mirror. She had to raise her voice to be heard above the tempest. “Not exactly what I asked for, Scott.”

  Markman shrugged and continued to look around.

  “I wanted something simple. It’s supposed to be clear blue skies and calm.”

  “What’s wrong? What is all this?”

  Cassiopia paused. “It’s you; it’s how you feel.”

  “What do we do?”

  “I say we go on. Nothing can hurt us here anyway.”

  There suddenly came a low roll of thunder, causing them both to jump and look off in the distance. Markman did not seem overjoyed at their prospects.

  “I don’t know, this is pretty bad,” he said, almost having to yell to be heard.

  “We’re here, let’s do it,” she insisted. “You said yourself there’s not much time left.” She turned to the robot who appeared completely unaffected by the harsh climate. “Tel, mask Mr. Markman, me, and the SCIP. Evaluate remaining environment.”

  Tel rotated in a jerky three hundred and sixty-degree turn, and then spoke, its voice raised in volume. “Standard Dreamland composition with reference to previous data. Current visuals are clouds, flat landscape, one land vehicle. Intermittent weather inconsistencies indicate unstable environment. Mass and volume of solids in violation of standards. Audio spectrum normal, infrared null, no other radiations present. End of environmental synopsis.”

  “What was that about unstable?” he asked above the furry.

  “He must mean some of the weather is not making sense.”

  “That’s an understatement, and you still want to go on?”

  “Let’s hurry up. Attach the homing beacon to the mirror, and let’s see if the rover works.”

  He gave a bothered look as she handed him the necessary supplies. When he had finished, they went to the rover. Markman made sure he reached the driver’s side before anyone else. They threw their packs in the rear compartment and climbed in. The seats had no cushions and resembled hard, formed plastic.

  “I guess you don’t believe in options!” he said smugly.

  Tel, without waiting for instruction, clamored directly into the back of the vehicle, tossing it harshly around. It sat upright in the ill-fitting back seat looking completely out of place.

  Cassiopia looked down at the barren instrument panel. “Well, will it start?”

  Markman looked for the ignition. There was none. Behind the oversized steering wheel was a blank dashboard; no gages, no shifter, no pedals. The driver’s area looked like a nonfunctional mockup of a prototype vehicle. “Look, there’s not even a key switch!” he complained and pointed to where it should have been.

  But when he looked again, it was there. He searched the rest of the instrument panel. There was now a speedometer and a fuel gauge, and a shifter protruded from the steering column. And, of course, there are now pedals, he thought sarcastically, and when he looked, there were.

  Cassiopia looked the other way and pretended it had not happened.

  He shook his head at her. “We’re crazy, you know. Just plain crazy!” He turned the phantom ignition key. The Dreamland engine started immediately and ran smoothly. The fuel gauge now read full. He pointed at it and looked to his passengers. “Full of what?” he asked, not expecting an answer.

  Cassiopia raised her eyebrows and shrugged.

  Markman turned to the robot. “You’re going to tell us if you see anything, right?”

  “As instructed I will report any sensor deflections, Mr. Markman. I will amend instructions to report directly to you if you wish.”

  Markman twisted his hands on the unusually fat, brown steering wheel and shook his head. “Fine, just fine. I’m in a place that doesn’t exist, driving my imaginary jeep, with a beautiful woman and a robot in the back. Guess I’m all set now, all right,” he said and dropped the rover into drive. To their amazement, it took off. Cassiopia shifted in her seat and tried to appear satisfied.

  They drove the isolated, blacktop highway toward the dark, flat horizon. The ride was smooth, though the distant flashes of storm left them unsettled. The tires hummed and clicked on the uneven roadway. Markman held to a safe speed, uncertain of what to expect.

  Though the thick black clouds continued to eclipse the countryside, the storm seemed to lack further development. "Perhaps it has matured and might even begin to subside," thought Cassiopia. Nothing would have pleased her more as she studied the barren acres that raced by on their flight down a road into the unknown.

  Tel sat silently. It scanned one hundred and eighty degrees ahead continuously, moving only its head. The SCIP door disappeared into the emptiness behind them. It had served as their only real landmark. Now there was nothing, but an endless ocean of empty, flat fields, edged by hazy gray darkness.

  They soon covered nearly fifty Dreamland miles, without incident. Nothing had changed. The same terrain, the same sullen clouds, the same unreachable horizon. Markman began to think that the place might go on forever, and now to his further displeasure, the fuel gauge appeared to be working. They had consumed one-fourth of the phantom tank already. Time would not be the only potential problem on this journey.

  But even with the distraction of the alien landscape, he found himself stealing glimpses out of the corner of his eye at the beautiful woman beside him. The lightning bursts, rough wind, and murky visibility, made this a place of intrigue, an impression that was intensified by her mere presence. She was not aware of him. She struggled with her long tangled hair and tried to stay below the protection of the rickety windshield. Her soft face seemed so like that of the imposter he had recently made love to. With the familiar pang of guilt returning, he wondered if the finely shaped curves concealed beneath her tan jumpsuit could possibly be as irresistible.

  Suddenly the robot interrupted. “Mr. Markman, visual protrusion on the horizon. No Doppler available.”

  They exchanged uneasy glances.

  Cassiopia shook her head and leaned over to be heard. “There shouldn’t be anything.”

  Markman looked over his shoulder at the robot. “Do you see anyone at all?”

  “No anthropomorphic contact.”

  “What’d it say?”

  “He said no sign of anything resembling humans.”

  Markman looked over at her and spoke hesitantly. “Go on?”

  “Absolutely.”

  They searched ahead earnestly for the mystery that awaited them. Ten more minutes had passed before there was any sign. The first visible evidence was a brightening line in the unfriendly overcast. Soon there were holes in it, and not far ahead blue sky was becoming predominant. As the rover carried them further, they began to see the dark, indefinable spot, waiting on the horizon.

  The robot spoke once more, “Large, residential dwelling. No anthropomorphic contact.”

  “Can’t you just say ‘humans’ or something,” complained Markman. The robot ignored him and continued its scan of the unexpected structure. “A house where there should be none. Can you explain it?” he asked loudly.

  “I can only think it’s originated from one of us,” she replied. “There’s no other explanation.” She squinted, tried for a
better look, and added, “If one of us recognizes it, we’ll know.”

  The silhouette of a large mansion on the right side of the highway was becoming clearer. It was surrounded by green grass and lush vegetation. Now only a few wisps of storm clouds passed overhead. In the distance, big billows of cumulus clouds sculpted strange, animal-like shapes against an endless blue sky. It was a lavish estate, existing in the middle of nowhere. Markman stopped at the entrance to the horseshoe-shaped, cobblestone driveway, and looked to Cassiopia for direction. She promptly waved him on.

  They pulled around neatly trimmed hedges and stopped beside a corridor of cone-shaped evergreen trees that led to the front entrance. A large, square tower with a high pointed peak and four smaller peaks at each corner rose from the above the entryway. The building was of gray brick supported by large cut stone. Two story cathedral windows lined its front, decorated by climbing ivy. The double front door was intricately carved with snakelike patterns. Large stone lions sat on either side of it. Beyond the well-kept grounds there was thick fog. Markman asked Tel for a scan of it. “Visibility inhibited,” was the only reply.

  “Well, do you recognize this place?” he asked.

  “No, do you?” she replied.

  “Nope.”

  “There doesn’t seem to be anyone here, let’s look around.” She jumped from the rover and headed for the front door.

  “Wait a minute, wait…,” Markman called with annoyance. “Shouldn’t we blow the horn first or something?” But to his dismay, he found there was none. He climbed from the rover and caught up to her at the grand entryway. A few smooth marble steps slowed TEL. “We’d better at least knock, don’t you think?”

  “This is Dreamland, Scott. We can do anything we want.” Without waiting, she tested the door latch and proceeded to push open the right side of the huge double door. She barged in as though she owned the place. Markman followed warily with the robot close behind.

  Chapter 24