Notopia

  “Yes, I know all that, and we are using that to lay waste to this world.”

  “The line between laying waste and betterment is often gray, and it has been crossed on numerous occasions. I will not argue that, but Roger, it is why we are here. For better or for worse, we possess all the attributes that nature has devised. We are physically, genetically, psychologically, and to varying degrees, mentally, the culmination of what nature intended. We are becoming Earth’s extension into the universe itself.

  Roger, think of the Egyptian pyramids and the Mayans as examples. Nearly every culture has reached out to the stars, the sun, and the moon. This is because the earth has made them curious. The earth has designed humans to be its outreach vehicle.”

  Roger’s face changed, and he looked toward Gwen. “If this Urkabis has his way, all of that will end.”

  “Yes, Roger, all of it. The earth itself will have its cycle of growth stopped; its very reason for existence destroyed. In short, you will have obliterated the very thing you were trying to save.”

  With head in hands, Roger sobbed. “I didn’t realize, Gwen… what have I done? We must stop it! But we are helpless from here.”

  Gwen held Roger in her arms. “Yes, we must stop it. Now that you no longer want it, we have taken a big step to that end. If we can rid Notopia of the creature, it will not be able to return. Roger, when you go back, you must not show yourself to anyone but me, or perhaps Leo. I will explain all this to him. Roger, we need you thinking clearly. You are the only access we have to the way Urkabis thinks.”

  “He knows where every dream lives, Gwen. I gave him that knowledge. He can find them all.”

  “Well, shit. Anything else you can tell me?”

  “The Beacon … atop the museum is a defense beacon of some sort. I read about it in some old papers, and it is the last resort guardian for Notopia. The custodian Rick knows how to get to it. Perhaps if it can be activated, it can do something, but I never figured that part out Gwen. I have kept papers on my past work.”

  “Okay, this is good. Where are those papers? If I can get them to Leo, that will help support my case that you are on our side.”

  “In my basement on the supply shelving, you will find them pretty easily there.” His distress returned. “I’m sorry Gwen … I’m so very sorry for everything.”

  “It’s going to be okay Roger. We are going to get through this. I don’t know how, but we will. You stay here until I call you, I have some other leads to follow now. Roger, we are going to need your help to stop this thing, so don’t you even think about doing anything rash. You hear me, mister?”

  “I hear you.”

  No sooner had the door closed behind Gwen that Roger got to his feet, grabbed his car keys, and headed out the door. He had a lead of his own to follow as well.

  ***

  Back in Notopia, the frantic atmosphere was getting worse. People had started going door to door in search of what could be their dream, this in turn, made the dreams feel hunted. Dreams were feeling so pressured, confused, and disoriented, that they could barely recognize themselves, let alone a compatible seeker.

  Then, another first for Notopia occurred. Two men began to argue over which one a particular dream belonged to. It started as just a simple conversation. First, it was talk, but then the volume went up, a few names were called, some pushing, and it was on. One punch flew and then another. The men lost sight of the dream that stood not five feet away before the blue fire consumed it, taking it away. Seconds later, they were gone as well.

  The firemen had no chance to keep up with all the blue fires. They were happening all around Notopia. Often there were no witnesses, and the only clue they cared about was if they found drops of acidic green slime near the remnants of a dream. They knew it to be a sure indicator that the creature had been the perpetrator.

  At the museum, Charles and Enrique studied the statue, looking for any clue that might make it vulnerable. “The legs look a bit spindly to me, Charles; perhaps a blow just above the knee from the outside can disable it,” Enrique surmised.

  “You could be right, Enrique, but it is very strong. We have no weapons here to inflict such a blow or do much of anything,” Charles answered.

  “We have some axes at the fire station, and we can fashion spears and knives on our own.”

  “Are you proposing we engage this thing in hand-to-hand combat?”

  “I propose we do anything and everything we can think of to destroy it.”

  “Well, we have gas in the cars, and acid in the car batteries,” Charles said.

  “Yes, and perhaps we can lure it into a trap using electricity to stop it,” Enrique said.

  “We have to learn what hurts it … and what it desires. Then, we must try to use that knowledge against it.”

  Enrique asked. “How many times have you been alerted for a blue fire response?”

  “Way too many,” Charles sighed, “We don’t have a lot of time I’m afraid.”

  They cast their view out over the city. A noticeable number of homes were gone, swallowed up into the ground in the absence of seekers or Dreams.

  Rick emerged from the museum behind them. “I have got entire pages vanishing from the register. That thing is simply going from house to house. Is there nothing you can do?” Rick asked.

  Enrique answered. “We don’t know, but we are sure as hell going to try. Charles, you collect what you can and meet me in Leo’s basement in half an hour. Hopefully, we will have something to work with, and maybe Leo will be back with ideas as well.”

  Rick bid them good luck and returned to the registry book. More and more names were vanishing from the book every hour. From the corner of his eye, he noted a glow of light pulsating from the direction of the Spiritual wing. The museum was empty now as people were out looking for their dreams, and the dreams had gone into hiding. He quickly made his way to the front of the Spiritual wing and could see a painting glowing with the rhythm of a lighthouse. It was one of Gwen’s three paintings, the one with the fog and the odd being inside. He stood in front of it, gazing intently as the shadowy figure returned to the screen and the glowing stopped.

  “Rick, Gwen will be here before too long. She will need you.” Rick could hear the thing speak but saw no mouth.

  “What does she need?” Rick asked.

  “The attic. She will need to start there.” As quickly as it had moved into view, it vanished back into the thick fog.

  ***

  Urkabis stood on the sidewalk facing a blue, two-story house. The house looked freshly painted with clouds on it. He felt certain that anything with the silliness of mind to paint clouds on a blue house would be easy-pickings for its next victim. He swung open the feeble gate, ducked under the trellis, and headed up the walkway to the porch.

  Cirrus saw it first through the screen door. “NIMBUS!!” She screamed as she slammed the door shut and shoved a large chair up against it.

  Urkabis ripped the screen door from its hinges, mangled it up and tossed it aside. He then began to push on the door. Cirrus had wedged a loose board behind the chair and into the floor, and it was holding for now. However, the next thing she heard was the front window crashing in. It was not a large window, but Urkabis was trying to use it to gain entry.

  “NIMBUS! Where are you! I need help!” she cried out.

  Urkabis had one leg and his head inside, and it was trying to get his shoulders through the opening. The green ooze droplets fell to the floor and Cirrus could smell the stench that came with it. Urkabis seemed to jerk forward and grunt, then jerk again, and again. He was twisting trying to pull his head back out of the window.

  Outside, Nimbus swung away with a wooden two by four, battering Urkabis randomly. As soon as he freed his head, to see who was wailing on him, the two by four landed squarely in his face, and he rocked back awkwardly in a daze. Nimbus aimed the next blow at Urkabis’s hand that held the knife and whacked it free from its gri
p and onto the ground below.

  From inside, Strata showed up to help Cirrus, and together they picked up a floor lamp to use as a battering ram of sorts. They rushed the half-entered intruder, and their rod struck him on target, in the abdomen, sending him crashing to the porch, stumbling amongst the table and chairs. Nimbus stepped up for another whack at his head, but this time Urkabis caught the board in mid-swing. Nimbus tried valiantly to wrestle the board away from its grip, but Urkabis stood up and tossed the board and Nimbus off the porch to the ground below.

  “Finally,” it growled, “some spunk!”

  ***

  In Leo’s basement, Charles sat waiting for Enrique, with three empty containers in front of him. The door opened, and both Enrique and Shelly came in.

  Enrique said. “It was the same for me, Charles. Once I took the gas from the car, it vaporized. Same with the battery acid and the chlorine.”

  “I tried to make a bow and arrow, but it fizzled into nothingness once outside the garage. It seems Notopia does not allow for conventional weapons,” Shelly said.

  “We have to have more than just our bare knuckles to combat this thing,” Charles said.

  “The ax is still together. Perhaps we need objects that are not primarily weapons or not dangerous outside their useful environment?”

  Enrique set a small jar on the table. It contained a sample of the green slimy ooze from around the base of the statue. “We have a sample of its make up here. We need something that will have a volatile reaction with this.”

  “There are many items used in cooking and cleaning that might do just that, like salt or baking soda or ammonia,” Shelly said.

  “Yes, I will check for some here in the house,” Enrique offered.

  “I will head to the market and get whatever I can,” added Shelly.

  “I will try to divide this up so we can run many tests,” Charles said. “Hurry guys!”

  ***

  Nimbus wasn’t moving, and Urkabis realized he would be there for later after he disposed of the two dreams inside. He retrieved his knife and returned to pushing his body into the house through the window. The more Urkabis struggled to get in, the more his spines jabbed into the window frame, slowing his progress. He couldn’t see the ladies and closed his eyes to push his way in further. When he opened them, Strata blasted his face with the spray from a fire extinguisher. Urkabis blindly swung the knife around hoping to strike one of them or at least move them back.

  Cirrus was in the kitchen exposing some wires on one end of an extension cord and connecting them to a metal loop. She ran back into the room and tossed the looped end to Strata. “Put it over his knife!” she yelled.

  With Urkabis unable to see much, Strata moved in and slipped the loop over the knife. Cirrus then plugged the other end into the wall outlet. The sparks flew, and Urkabis fell back through the window screaming. All the lights went out, and you could hear the breaker switches snapping.

  Urkabis got back up on his feet and roared half in pain and half with delight, but only for a couple of seconds. The ruckus had been so loud that a couple of dream neighbors came to join the fray. They lassoed Urkabis with a rope around its neck like a fence post, and together they yanked him from the porch onto the ground. They continued to drag him away from the house until Urkabis’s knife sliced through the rope. The two neighbors came at him with more two by fours, but this time there was no element of surprise. He grabbed one man with one hand and ran his knife through the chest of the other.

  The one held in the air could not breathe, and Urkabis watched him suffocate, while the other squirmed on the knife blade for a few seconds before hanging limp. He tossed both to the ground, and the blue flame arose. Urkabis leaned back and screeched, sucking the blue flame inside of itself.

  From the road, a sky-blue van smashed through the picket fence and rammed into Urkabis. He bounded to the ground, and the van came to a stop on top of him in the neighbor’s yard. Cumulo kicked the door open, jumped out, and headed directly to Nimbus who still wasn’t moving. Urkabis struggled and squirmed, but escape was going to take a few minutes.

  “Cirrus! Strata!” Cumulo yelled, “Come on. We have to leave now!”

  The girls removed the brace and rolled the chair aside. They darted from the porch onto the lawn to help get Nimbus to his feet. As they began to move away, Urkabis was working his way free. The neighbor’s house began to shake, and the ground around it shifted back and forth. Beams of light burst through from around the foundation of the house and the edge of the property. In a matter of seconds, the entire lot folded into the ground, taking with it the house, van, and Urkabis.

  Shelly had pulled up just in time to see Urkabis pull itself free from under the van only to be sucked into the ground. She swung her car door open and yelled. “Get in you guys. I will take you to the museum.”

  Cumulo carried Nimbus to the car, where they all climbed in and sped away.

  “You must be dreams,” Shelly said. “What happened?”

  Strata recounted the story as best she could and thanked Shelly for the ride. “We couldn’t stop it. We kept slowing it down, but it kept adapting to everything we did.”

  “I’m glad you got away. I hope it is gone now,” Shelly said.

  “It is only temporarily gone. I can feel it clawing its way back even now,” Cirrus said, and Strata held her in her arms.

  “How is your friend?” Shelly asked.

  “His breathing is good, and his pulse is steady. He will be fine in a few hours,” Cumulo replied.

  “When you get to the museum, find Rick, the custodian. Tell him what happened and that Leo will be over to see him as soon as he arrives. We are trying to find a way to get rid of this creature before it destroys anything else, and I am sure Leo is going to want to talk with you also.”

  “Okay, I hope you find something soon!” Strata said.

  Shelly dropped them off and continued to the market. In her mind, she knew they needed more than just household chemical bombs. This thing was going to have to be eliminated at its source, and the dreamer of this thing, Roger, had to die. Someone that knew Roger in real life would have to do it. Gwen knows him, she thought.

  ***

  Gwen rested comfortably on the canopy bed, and many thoughts that swirled in her mind began to settle. She needed to get to Roger’s house, find the papers about the beacon, and see what Rick discovered. She looked at her portal painting as she got up off the bed and noticed something had changed. There was someone on the bridge now. She moved closer to the painting for a closer look. Was that Roger? He wasn’t there before. What is he doing in my painting? And what has he got in his hands? It looks like rope or cordage of some kind.

  I can’t stop now, she thought. I must find those papers first. She put it out of her mind and raced to Roger’s house. She pushed inside, calling his name in the hopes that he was home, but there was no reply. She went directly to his office. The smell of Urkabis still hung heavy in the air. She rifled through all the files she could find, looking for anything related to the beacon. There was a cache of folders on several subjects. She found them on Dream Rates, Museum Arrivals, Lost Frames, Blue Fire Frequency, but nothing on the beacon. Then, she remembered he said they were on a shelf in the basement. She raced down to collect them and decided to take them all back to her house where she could study them without this awful odor.

  She flung herself on the bed and, tossed all the folders aside, saving the one labeled beacon. Roger’s notes read,

  “Beacon not activated for at least 5,000 years …

  Extends above the top of the main dome …

  Destroys outside dimensional intruders …

  Protects dreams …

  How to operate.”

  The next pages were drawings of triangle shapes and what looked to be hieroglyphics with no explanations. Following those were ten pages of these markings. In between the lines there was a spattering of words that
she could barely make out—could they be translations? It seems Roger was decoding this string of symbols, uncovering an ancient storyline. The words were in English for the most part, but not entirely. Reading, she ascertained it to be a tale about someone named Shemyaza that lorded over a band of roughnecks that plagued humans thousands of years ago and was vanquished by the beacon when it invaded Notopia. Roger had not deciphered all the markings and hieroglyphics, but he was on to something.

  Gwen lay back on her bed and released a long deep sigh. She knew the answer was within her grasp, but she didn’t think she had time to finish Roger’s work. Perhaps if he were here, they could do it together, but that didn’t seem likely. She needed some direction and decided to take a few moments to meditate on the issue. This involved going into a deep centered, relaxed state and letting her conscious mind mingle with her subconscious. Making herself comfortable on the bed was easy, and she followed that with imagining her feet and hands to be heavy and to be anchoring her to her location. Then, she let herself breathe from deep in her abdomen like a baby would do. Soon, she was only aware of her anchor points, her deep and centered breathing, and her mind freeing itself from second to second thoughts.

  She tried to keep the images of the hieroglyphics in her mind for as long as possible, but slowly released them to waves of color and curious shapes that floated before her mind. It almost seemed like traveling to Gwen; a journey she could take on her own. She never knew where it would take her, but it always seemed to be time consistent, and she never interacted at any place she saw, just observed.

  From amid the swirl of color, a clear opening would form, through which she could see, if only briefly, a different surrounding. Sometimes it was forest, other times a street, and still other times it appeared to be inside a home. She could see people milling about, but never had they seen her, and never had she been able to interact with anything or anyone. This process was entertaining and served to clear her mind later for fresh thought.