Chapter 8

Much to his relief, Simon had no nightmare that night. By now he knew better than to conclude that the whole thing had gone away, though he could still hope. Most of the time his job didn’t take up much of his mind, so he had plenty of time to think – for better or for worse.

He had already started with the obvious – that he had just gone crazy. Something about Adam and Doc’s reactions didn’t quite support that though. At least he didn’t think they did. Besides that, there wasn’t much he could do if it were true, since his cruddy insurance wouldn’t cover therapy. Anyway, he was sick of thinking about the whole thing, and couldn’t do so rationally if it were true. He decided to look at some other possibilities.

What if there were something truly strange happening to him, but it had nothing to do with the Eightfold being real? Then he didn’t know where to begin. If the nightmares were from the Illuminati or time travelers or whatever, he didn’t see any way of figuring out who it was or what to do about it based on the information he had now.

So Simon stopped circling around the idea that was in the back of his brain and confronted it directly. What if the Eightfold was real? That would mean there was a vast collective of non human species from various universes were working together in a loose coalition of different competing factions. And now they were ready to contact Earth. Only, their long history showed that culture shock could destroy newly contacted worlds. So, the first wave of visitors consisted of elders. These were individuals who had given up their physical forms and could communicate telepathically – or influence the thoughts of those who did not know they existed. So all the comics and movies and books about the Eightfold were in fact inspired by Elders. Presumably all the writers and artists in the Eightfold franchise and had invented this concept would be amused by the suggestion that it was actually true, and they were tools rather than creative artists.

If it were real it wasn’t all that funny though. After a couple of nights he dug through his old comic book collection, to find some that might have actually been valuable if he had taken better care of them.

There they were. The Leonid Saga. The story of when the Eightfold had first contacted the Leonids. While their copyright laws were not the same as Earth’s, their technology had been almost as advanced as ours. They too had the Eightfold stories. Branura the runt lost many duels before he learned to use vulgar sorcery. In the end he managed to prevent his planet from being engulfed by civil war.

Suddenly the spell was broken. So many of the aliens in the game were either bipedal talking variations of Earthly animals, flying saucer type traditional aliens, or other rubber suit aliens such as had caught the imagination of a certain sector of the television audience. How could he even be taking this seriously?

Simon added up all the little strangenesses that had entered his life lately, and found it was impossible to dismiss them all as coincidences. His dreams, Adam’s reactions and discussions with Simon’s old group, Doc and the new group, and something he couldn’t quite remember.

So he went back to the Leonid Saga. As a comic book series it was great entertainment. As a potential future it was alarming, and Simon wanted no part of it.

If somehow the stories were even half real, the vanguard elders visiting the planet spent most of their time around those who invested the most time and interest into the Eightfold. The idea that Simon came up with made him feel kind of silly, but it made more sense than anything else.

He sat on the old couch in the living room fully dressed, and spoke into the silence. “If you’re a real elder, it’s not me you want. I’m not brave or clever or anything. I don’t get people, and I’m kind of a loser. I’m not up to saving the world, and if it turns out to be really hard, I’m going to wonder what humanity ever did for me anyway. I may have seen some Eightfold movies and television shows, but I can’t be the only one.

“Even if it was me you wanted, we would not be off to a good start. Yes the nightmares got my attention, but they don’t make me trust you. You’ve shown me one possible future, and I don’t even know if it somehow results from my trying to prevent it. Did my first nightmare about Lord Regal really result from some bond between us, or were you trying to frighten me?”

Belatedly it occurred to Simon that if there was nothing with Regal at all, Adam’s odd behavior remained inexplicable.

He wondered if talking out loud to an empty room was another sign of insanity. Unsurprisingly, there was no response.

But that night he had the first dream that wasn’t a nightmare. At least, it was sort of like a dream, only different.

He was seated at a table in an expensive restaurant. Everything around him smelled delicious. There was a glass of wine in front of him, and a bottle on the table. The only drawback was the guy he was having dinner with.

The light was coming from behind his head, so he couldn’t really make out his features. All he could see was a silhouette, except for two glowing green eyes. Other than that he wasn’t all that strange.

Until he spoke. His voice was strange too. It wasn’t too high or too low, too loud or two soft. It was just that it seemed to come from the inside and the outside of Simon’s head simultaneously. He wasn’t sure if he’d heard it, or remembered hearing it an instant after it was over, or merely imagined it while being spoken to telepathically. It was vaguely menacing, and he didn’t like the idea of this thing being inside his head. All the same, he felt as if he had been in a conversation for some time, and the natural thing was to continue it.

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It asked offensively, “So, you don’t care about your species at all?”

Simon shook his head firmly. “I never said that, although I’m betting you don’t care about us, and are trying to manipulate me. No, I’m saying I don’t think I’m the right person to save us from civil war due to premature exposure to the Eightfold, and even if I was I wouldn’t trust you to help me.”

The Silhouette replied, “You have studied was has been revealed about the traditions of the Eightfold, and much of what you have heard is true. The laws enforced by the River, which claims to serve us, are ancient. We can only reveal ourselves to a species when it is deemed ready. Before that, we can only communicate with two groups. Those who seek to create art in the tradition of the Eightfold are one, whether they believe it to be fiction or not are one. The other is those who have studied the tradition and concluded it is not all fiction.”

It occurred to Simon that obsessive Eightfold fans were a pretty sorry bunch to search for a hero in. All the same he suggested, “How about Adam? Or is he already involved in all this?”

The featureless head shook back and forth. “Blue Sword Honor sent an elder to him before we even found him. You should already know their conception of honor is nothing like yours. They are hungry, wounded, and desperate. They wish to open this world to immigration without restraint as fast as they can, so healers from other universes can come and treat them. Normally this might take hundreds of years, but they will not be punished if they can convince our people that things were done according to the letter of the law. And many will want to believe them, they are not the only hungry ones.”

Simon just looked at it, both wishing he could see the face and glad he could not. He replied, “And you? Why did you come here?”

After waiting politely for a reply Simon continued into the silence. “Did you arrive through the same unupgraded portal as the Blue Sword Honor who contacted Adam? Are you part of semilegal organization called the Harvesters? The very same which is attempting to use Adam?”

The voice was quieter now, more restrained. “Yes, but our group has become factionalized. If you do not believe that concern for humanity is my only motive – very well. The leaders of the blue factions are hungrier than the leaders of the green factions. If everything is done right, there will be more wealth, power, and prestige for all involved. Yet some in the blue alliance do not believe they can survive that long. They are hungry now, but my leaders will not let them endanger all we have worked for.”

Simon stretched as well as he could without getting up. This was certainly a nice restaurant. The waiters all wore suits.

After a moment he said, “And how about you? How much of yourself did you lose through the primitive one sided portal which sent you here? Are you experiencing any cognitive deficits? Are you by any chance even hungrier than when you first fled through the portal in search of fresh grazing fields?”

After a moment the other replied, “I don’t see why you’re bent on antagonizing me. I could bring you you’re hearts desire. You’ve only dreamed of the power of sorcery. I could teach it to you for real.”

Simon had indeed thought about the power of vulgar sorcery, the lowest common denominator power which worked even on worlds where magic was difficult to use. People who newly learned it often got in trouble in Eightfold fiction, but he had carefully planned how he could use it to become wealthy and popular safely. That was fantasy and this was reality though. Simon had bad feelings about this, and it took him a few moments to put them into words through the vagueness of the dream.

“It’s kind of hard to teach sorcery to those who don’t have the talent, I’ve heard. Perhaps a bit more of me than I intended might be eaten, sort of accidentally. I don’t trust you. This imagery you drew from my mind, a restaurant and delicious smells. I wonder what would happen if I drank this appealing glass of dream wine, if it would intoxicate me and cloud my judgement. You’re hungry, aren’t you? Hungry and desperate. You might have to merge part of yourself with me to show me the invisible well of power, and who knows what would happen to either of us if we tried to separate? I don’t think an elder would want to do that unless they were truly desperate.

“So here is my answer to you. I don’t believe you have our interests in mind, either my species or myself. If you’re really part of some sort of faction rather than just a rogue, and they really have something to offer me, go back to whoever sent you. Tell them I will not work with you under any circumstances, regardless of what you promise or threaten. If they really have something to offer me, they need to send someone who is not so hungry.”

The glowing green eyes regarded him balefully. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Exactly so, and that would not change if I decided to go along with your half truths and misleading promises.”

Despite his brave words, Simon felt a twist of fear inside. If he was going insane, that was not good. If the Eightfold was really here, or something like it which disguised itself with Eightfold stories, that too was a serious danger. He could barely imagine having the fate of humanity on his shoulders, but who knew what nightmares this thing could send him?

Simon was seriously considering what sort of compromise or plea he could offer when he realized the restaurant was no more. He was home in his own bed and awake. It occurred to him he should have demanded proof that this whole thing was real before replying to the offer.

Then he finally got an e-mail from Doc. The man wanted to talk to him alone after Thursday’s game. Also, he wanted to give Simon one hint about the upcoming game. Then he asked if Simon had read Triuniversal Symphony.

The name was familiar. Simon had read an Eightfold novel by that name. He probably had it somewhere, buried under piles of other things. Rather than trying to dig it up, he visited Amazon to read some of the book reviews and refresh his memory.

It was about three parallel universes in the Eightfold continuum. It turned out that the three universes were linked together in a weird triangle. Two authors and a gaming group had created fictions, or seemed to. The ‘gaming group’ was actually composed of sorcerers and seers who had enchanted crystal dice but didn’t know as much as they thought they did. They had the idea that all three groups should work together and be nice to each other.

Only, it never quite worked right. There could be mystical links between universes, but mere mortals could not control them. The Captain’s worst enemy might be made to surrender his ship – only for people to discover he had a horrible and treacherous plan. You could not control another universe when the story didn’t work for you. It was almost like the story controlled you. Try to twist it, and you could end up writing about a shadow universe without life.

Finally he realized the Doc was warning him. Doc could not just hand him victory, or it would not help.

So even when everything was possible, it still wasn’t.