--=-Chapter 52: About That Name--=-

It was a strange thing, standing on Guy's porch with Hands. Hands had ordered my death. It was also hard to remember that he wasn't the suit-wearing man next to me, but rather some inexplicable merger of trauma and dolphin. Guy, on the other hand, had killed me. He'd also drugged me and stolen some of my fur, though I doubted I could actually lay much of that at his feet. Either way, part of me knew I should be on edge, scared.

Wherever I was, I didn't even know how to leave. At the same time, this was the first time in too long that I'd been able to directly speak to anyone who wasn't a floating eyeball. So, while I was on edge, part of me also felt like I'd just set down a burden.

The beautiful calm of the Dreamland only reinforced the feeling. The plasma ocean cast the world in the dark shades of that particular green seen before storms. No insects were buzzing or birds chirping; apart from an unexplained breeze, the world was quiet. It was the epitome of the calm before the storm, and yet the peace was still restorative.

It was just one more of the many contradictions that popped up around Hands. When I met him, he'd sent goons to abduct me but then shared information. He seemed almost fond of me, yet he'd killed me for simple convenience. Hands had been looking for my Shadow, but he was also my prime suspect for having the Shadow. Guy, one of his goons, was a drone, and yet, here, Guy seemed utterly normal, apart from the fact we were in a dream.

Hell, it was the first time I'd seen Guy wearing anything other than his khaki outfit, and I envied his sweats and colorful shirt. It was like he had gone home for the weekend, leaving the apocalypse until his next shift.

"So, what. Is that the deal? You let people escape reality and, in turn, use their bodies as your personal puppets?"

Guy laughed. "Don't be ridiculous, Oberon."

"First off, my name is Sam. Second, laugh all you want, but I doubt you were in control when you killed me. Or am I wrong?"

Guy's face actually blanched. "What?"

"Yeah. I didn't think so," I looked over at Hands, and his face looked every bit as shocked, but only for a moment. Considering his ability with illusions, I wasn't going to put much stock in it being genuine.

"You must be mistaken. Guy is safely hidden away with the others." Hands objected, raising a reassuring hand in Guy's direction.

It seemed like such a weak lie, and it made me mad. "Maybe now, sure. How about a couple loops ago? Most recently, he only shot me with a tranq gun and cut some of my fur to further frame me as a monster that goes around assaulting people."

"What?" Guy asked again, more panic in his voice and pleading in his eyes as he looked at Hands. "Floppy?"

"Oberon, why are you saying this? It's not like you to use blatant lies. Guy, Please. By all means, check if you have concerns. I won't hold it against you."

Guy closed his eyes, and his eyes flicked side to side. "I... I can't. It's like sleep paralysis. I can almost feel myself but can't open my eyes or move. I'm stuck. Floppy, what's going on?"

"What did you do?" Hands asked me, a bur in his voice.

"Me? I got within spitting distance of building support, and then your goon came around and ensured that your promise remained true. You told me there was nothing here in the hospital for me. You told me to leave, and when I refused, you stole my chance at building something.

"Floppy, you said you couldn't control us," Guy said, hurt in his voice.

"Right, 'Floppy,' the dolphin. Does he even remember why others call you Hands?" I asked the illusion of a man, his suit in sharp contrast to Guy's casual appearance.

"Of course he does. Only the traumatized can come here, and only by facing their past, just as you yourself experienced. And Guy, I can't control your bodies. Oberon is missing his Shadow. Someone must have figured out how to use it to control you. Everyone needs to calm down.

"He's lying," I said, crossing my arms. Even my body language was coming easier in this place. It was too bad I couldn't trust the dolphin man. "There were other empty bodies he was using as guards."

"You mean Steve and Larry?" Guy asked, furrowing his brows.

"Yes." Hands answered for me, which was fine since I didn't know their names. "Out of curiosity, have you recognized them yet, Oberon?"

"Why do you insist on calling me Oberon?" I asked, ignoring his question. In truth, they did look familiar, but I hadn't placed them yet.

"You told us to," Guy said.

"Well, now I'm saying call me Sam." Maybe I'd thought it necessary to hide my identity for some reason, but Hands at least knew who I was already.

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"Guy," Hands said, turning away from me, "Would you please go around and ask the others to check if they're having the same issue. I promise you, we'll get to the bottom of this. As I said, I suspect the Shadow is, once again, at the root of things."

"Of course," Guy said, closing his door and stepping off his porch.

"Oh, Guy, please also send Larry over. He at least can testify that he was in control of his own body."

"Sure, should I send Steve too?" Guy asked.

"Ah, unfortunately, he'll be out for the rest of the loop."

Guy groaned in sympathy. "Bummer. Ok, I'll send Larry by."

Hands turned and sat down on the porch steps, the wood actually creaking as he did. "Forgive my casual behavior. In this place, my human body is real. Every moment on my feet feels precarious after the security of the Medium–water, I mean. Balance is as alien a sensation as I've ever known. Now then, where were we? Ah, yes. Are you sure you are Sam?" Hands asked.

I gave him a flat look.

"Think back on the events we just witnessed. Your perspective changed." Hands sat in a tailored suit, arms resting on his bent knees. It was still an odd sight, even knowing neither the outfit nor the porch were real. But then, I supposed any dirt or stains would be just as illusory.

"My perspective hasn't changed yet," I said, a growling rasp in my otherwise familiar voice.

Hands patted the air from where he sat as though telling me to calm down. "I mean in the memory we saw. You relived your memory from your original perspective up until you got too close to the vortex. Something snapped from the barrier, an unseen tendril of light perhaps? Then you blacked out. When you woke, your perspective was from the outside looking in. Are you sure you're the same person who was trying to flee with Jon?"

"Who else would I be?"

Hands shrugged. "A clone, perhaps."

I looked down at my blue fur and hulking form. "Not a very good one."

"Of course not," Hands's dark eyes sparkled with amusement. "I told you; I think you broke—whatever was meant to happen—with your ridiculous tinfoil hat."

I burst out laughing, sure that he was joking. Laughing also felt good, and I'd miss it when I left. This place was dangerous. Asking to stay here was too tempting. And why not? It was an attempt at paradise. Guy was pleasant and didn't care that I looked like a monster. Even Hands was being polite. Of course, the situation on the outside was the answer to why not. Even if there weren't people who trusted me and needed my help, Guy's body was walking around under someone else's control. I couldn't stay in Dreamland, especially if Hands or another party were puppeting my body around.

Hands just looked at me expectantly. "We've spoken of this before. I didn't expect you to believe me right away."

"Oh, come on," I said, beginning to lose patience. "People are out there blaming the apocalypse on all-powerful gods and super-advanced aliens, and you think the real culprit is a bit of aluminum?"

"Obviously not. I doubt any of us were ever meant to know we were trapped. I told you I spoke to one of their gods-"

"Well, 'gods' maybe," I interrupted, enjoying that I could once again make finger quotes. "Sori is as much god as Aluminum is weapon of mass destruction."

"You might be surprised at the necessity aluminum held in such weapons. I'm curious about that name, though. It gave you the name 'Sorry'?"

"No, I gave him the name Sori, S-O-R-I. It's just a dumb joke and not important right now. Long story short, Sori isn't a god. I'm not sure he's lucid, let alone sane; you can't believe most of what he says."

"Perhaps not, but it was asking about a Shadow since before you and I met. It, or he, if you prefer—I don't think it matters to the eye— came to me looking for 'something broken in the system.' Sori, as you call him, predicted you."

Hands let the statement hang. My mouth was dry. The sweet smell of flowers and ripe fruit filled the air. I was tempted to go grab another juicy snack from the garden. I'd known I couldn't fully trust Sori, but I liked him, and he really didn't seem malicious. Hands was making me wonder if I'd taken too much for granted. "Ok, but what makes you think he meant me?"

Hands nodded along as I spoke. "Each and every person who has seen their trauma has also seen themselves attacked by those webs of light, our last experience the awful hissing of energy piercing our skulls. Some believe we're in some god's purgatory; others believe we're clones in a reproduction of Forest Lake in a galactic zoo. There are those who believe that ancient magic rose up to wipe the earth clean of humanity and technology; others earnestly believe we're in the Matrix movies and always have been. Whatever happened, it seemed to go wrong, providing us an opportunity to escape our cage."

"Is that why everyone is after my shadow?" I asked.

Hands snorted. "There are many reasons, Wolf. But yes, that's my dream, anyway. Freedom at last. Failing that, the Shadow must, at the least, be kept away from the silver eye."

Hands raised his hand in a wave, his eyes focused past me. Turning, I saw one of his goons walking over, Larry, I presumed.

Larry looked at me sheepishly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Hey, Oberon. Sorry about before. Just doing my job, you understand?"

Hands had asked if I'd recognized him, and I suddenly did. Larry was one of the men who had followed Jon and me behind the hospital. He was one of those that had driven straight into the vortex after we crashed. "How?" I asked.

Hands must have understood the question because his smile was the smugest I'd seen in my entire life. "Magic, of course."

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