The Spaces in Between Read online

  “With what?” I punched through the glass of Cameron’s drink to emphasize my lack of substance. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed someone looking at us. He wasn’t looking past me like everyone else in the room; we actually made eye contact.

  I don’t know why I didn’t notice him before. In a room full of drunken lounge lizards a nine-foot Japanese man with hair down to the small of his back still stands out. Dark half moons hung under his eyes. He was crouched over a low bench at the center of the room stabbing a chopstick into sand somehow captivating an audience of drunken lizards.

  I tried to nudge Cameron, but failed miserably since my elbow passed right through him. Fortunately, he still noticed this gesture.

  “What is he doing?”

  Worry suddenly flared in Cameron’s eye.

  “Kuso! A geomancer? Here?” The man stood up – he was the tallest thing in the room. He broke through the disappointed crowd straight towards us. Cameron’s hand darted to the flintlock pistol nestled in his sash. Light condensed around the Geomancer’s hands while the Pirate King produced his gun.

  The hammer fell on his antiquated gat. The only report was a blinding light, and for a while I stopped dreaming.

  4

  I expected to wake up in my hospital bed or maybe an embedded dream, but no such luck. I was still literally chained to the dream. I couldn’t pull the reins from my subconscious. I was in another completely sterile corridor – apparently I had been dragged along with Cameron.

  Down the hall walked the tall man and a Draco whose gimp mask either indicated a very high or low ranking – there was obviously no in between when it comes to gimps. They were conversing, not in English, but I still knew what they were saying.

  “The gun we pulled off him defies all analysis,” Commander Gimp said, “It all looks Atlantean, but we couldn’t get a peep out of him in torture. We allow you to be here as long as you don’t bring this Atlantean vs. Lemuria shit on board, Tsuen.”

  “I assure you this man is not Atlantean or Lemurian,” Tsuen said. “This is something a lot direr.” Tsuen glanced at me. Why does that Pirate glow with the light of God? My dumbfounded expression registered with him so he never bothered to stop. I guess I was too much of a small fry for his concern at the moment.

  Once Tsuen was out of sight I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Well, not exactly the corner of my eye, but more out of the back of my head. Cameron, surrounded in the same white light I saw around the Soulforge, passed through the wall behind him. I took a breath, unnecessary as it was, and followed.

  On the other side of the wall, Cameron was shackled, and let out a monstrous yawn. He quickly flinched and moaned.

  “Ow, shite. Either got the torture treatment or the spa treatment.” Cameron smiled then ran his tongue through the new gaps in his teeth with a cocked eyebrow. “Well, the jury’s still out on that.”

  “You’re missing some fingers.”

  “And a kidney.” Cameron cracked his neck. “I’ll fix it later.”

  “You’ll what? What the hell are you talking about? How can you be so calm about this? What the hell is going on?”

  “I’ve been captured and tortured by the Draco for being a no good nick and firing a terrible weapon indoors. While they were doing that I did something productive and left my body to find that Talisman, which I did. Might I add that was far more helpful that anything you’ve done thus far?

  I’m so calm about this because my gun causes an EMP after the blast and fries any unshielded technology like the locks on these shackles. The designers of these shackles were quite lazy, and hard wired the locks into the door. So when the shackles are open the door unlatches.”

  With a flick of the wrist Cameron flung off the shackles and the door back into the corridor slid open.

  “Impossible!”

  “No, improbable.”

  “And just what the hell is that gun?”

  “Oh, that thing? The shells hold a pocket dimension containing anti-matter. The one I fired in the restaurant held one milliliter. You see when anti-matter hits any matter such as air it-“

  “Explodes. I know, I read Angels and Demons,” I said.

  “What did you think? I think Dan Brown tried to hard to get readers to turn the page. It became hacky in a few chapters.”

  “Yeah, but it was a great bathroom reader. Wait! How exactly would a notorious space pirate have read that book? And don’t give me all ‘that the same ideas trickle down from the Astral’ crap! I knew it! You’re from Earth!” Cameron made an expression like I just told him that Santa and his dog entered a suicide pact.

  “Since when did you immerse yourself so far into this fantasy?” the Dread Pirate said, “I mean this is all just a dream, isn’t it? Then everything’s from Earth, because your mind is from Earth.”

  “I suppose so…”

  “Good, now quit arguing with your subconscious and come on! That Talisman is just two corridors down!” Cameron crept through the open door and was promptly spotted by two Draco wearing gimp masks and armed with spears. This has got Freud’s name written all over it.

  The Pirate King ran incredibly fast for someone with another man chained to him. I suppose while “in the Astral” I’m weightless. Cameron darted around a corner in the corridor and ducked into another restaurant. I must have a deep-seated hatred towards restaurants.

  This restaurant was a lot smaller than the last one we destroyed, and unfortunately, it didn’t have any other exits. Then I suddenly had an insight. You know how you know things in a dream. Like you’ve been filled in about your entire back-story. You’re yourself, but you know you’re someone else and exactly how you got there.

  No, I wasn’t suddenly someone else. That would have been a refreshing change, but no, I suddenly knew the back-story of a gun.

  This certain gun was invented the by the Atlanteans in an attempt to shoot people while in space. Gunpowder just can’t ignite in space without oxygen. So they developed a gun that fires small projectiles with a magnetic push.

  Their earlier rail guns unfortunately broke the wrists of anyone stupid enough to fire one, and the toned down versions simply couldn’t pierce the average spacesuit. But since the rail guns operated in complete silence they became quite popular amongst the unsavory sorts planetside.

  This particular gun was made in a munitions factory that was later converted into a slaughterhouse. Many of the guns and machines were still in place for killing…whatever animal they used for steaks. One of the Atlantean rail guns fell into the production line and was shipped with assorted fillets as a thoughtless holiday gift.

  After years of re-gifting, the steaks were sold to the Asterix. A Draco “cook” dumped the box into a cooking robot that basically makes a steak with whatever you put in it. There are settings on the cooking robot, but they all just burn it to a crisp. I guess it’s comforting to know that all cultures have fast food.

  A waiterbot rolled up to the Draco patron with a covered dish as Cameron made a mad dash across the restaurant. He snatched the plate from the robot’s uncaring claws, knocked the garnish out of the trigger, and fired seven silent shots into the two gimps before they went down. Three of the rounds hit, I think, it was very hard to tell. The other Draco in the restaurant was completely unsure of what just happened. Cameron used this to his advantage to bolt right back out the door.

  The Dread Pirate slipped through an approaching crowd of Draco gimps and down the corridor towards the exhibits housing the Mehmet talisman. He was flanked by two more gimps bearing down on him with spears. It struck me that the guards were really outmatched against a guy with a gun, but it suddenly occurred to me that stray gunfire was a liability the Draco were not willing to take with the exhibits.

  I suddenly got an earful of real gunfire, which startled me so much that I’m amazed I didn’t wake up then. The utter silence of the pistol Cameron brandished suddenly occurred to me as incredibly unsettling. Not even that mouse fart noise televis
ion wants you to believe a silencer sounds like. Nothing, but bodies hitting the ground.

  This time the approaching Draco guards were not killed but clenched their stomachs like they had a mere stomachache. Cameron brought them down with a tackle that he barely got back up from.

  “For us,” Ryoma said, “That is the most we can hope to influence the Physical.” He lowered his smoking Colt .45, opened it, and replaced the two spent shells. Ryoma floated behind Cameron at top speed, and I was surprised to see that I could too. There was a feeling like my stomach was being tied in knots. It was slight, but it was there.

  Tsuen was nearby. He wanted his presence known.

  Then I had another insight: this time about a sword. The sword bore a striking resemblance to a katana and was very old. It was forged of an incredibly sturdy alloy that allows it to deflect even a laser for up to five minutes. This particular sword was traveling with an exhibit dig site from a former Lemurian colony. Its blade was chipped and couldn’t cut, but was still sturdy.

  “Was that Cameron’s voice?” I peered at Ryoma to see if he had heard it too.

  “Yeah, he puts things on the Astral to bring about coincidences in the Physical,” Ryoma said, “We notice it, because we’re also on the Astral.”

  I suddenly noticed that the corridor was flanked with display cases. Were those there before? I can’t remember. In my defense I was distracted. Cameron pumped some rail gun rounds into one of the cases and snatched up that very sword.

  “Sakamoto! Ikimasu!”

  “Wakarimasu!” Ryoma’s form gave way to an orb and flew into Cameron’s body. He swapped the rail gun with the sword in his left hand. The Draco soon had their spearheads trained on him. With a flourish and a spray of sparks Cameron decapitated their spears. With his left hand, he planted a single shot into each Draco’s forehead. He fought like a completely different person.

  Considering their masks, the Draco slumped over each other in a very disturbing manner. Behind them stood Tsuen wearing his own sword. Cameron fired a round at Tsuen, but missed. Three more misses certainly weren’t coincidence either.

  “Onamae wa onegaishimasu!” Tsuen said.

  “Sakamoto Ryoma to Cameron desu.” I am Cameron and Sakamoto Ryoma. So I guess Cameron is being possessed or something like that. I don’t know - dreams are weird. Cameron charged over the gap with a quick thrust. Tsuen sidestepped the point, but with a flick of the wrist his attack became a slash at Tsuen’s abdomen.

  The strike was parried with his sword’s scabbard. Tsuen drew his own sword only a foot to knock the rail gun out of Cameron’s hand. Cameron shifted his weight to his back foot to clear Tsuen’s sword, but still nearly lost his chin.

  Cameron quickly thrust his blade, which was brushed aside with the handle of Tsuen’s. He shifted forwards to quickly slash Tsuen across the face, but with a back step Tsuen completely avoided it. Cameron leapt back to get out of Tsuen’s considerable kill zone.

  Tsuen sheathed his sword and redrew it so fast that his blade was a mere flash of silver. Cameron ducked under the silver arc and slashed Tsuen across his spine. The tip of Cameron’s sword shattered on an invisible barrier surrounding Tsuen. He turned and struck Cameron in the midsection with an open palm.

  Cameron went sliding across the floor on his ass, and Ryoma went flying in the opposite direction. Tsuen shuffled forward on his heels following a sweeping cut. Cameron parried, but his sword snapped under the strain. Tsuen pinned Cameron’s wrist under his foot and pointed the tip of his sword in Cameron’s face.

  “Makoto Tsuen degouzaru,” Tsuen said, “Why do you radiate with the light of God? A mere, insignificant pirate such as yourself. And why do you seek this?” A stone talisman slid out from Tsuen’s left sleeve and dangled above Cameron’s head from a chain. It glowed with a faint white light. “I can tell just by looking at it that’s what you seek. As you say, like attracts like.”

  “I’ve heard rumors of a Lemurian ex-monk traveling the stars for over a century now,” Cameron said, “Exiled for killing his Guru. Do you make a point of killing the Enlightened?”

  “The weak are food for the strong. Killing any obstruction on the path to God is no sin. Even if a Buddha blocks my path I shall strike him down without remorse. Why is it that the ones touched by God are so weak?”

  “Weak? I could blink your entire family line out of existence, but that’d be too flashy. I’m far more humble than that.”

  Did he just gloat about how humble he was? Instead of trying to wrap my mind around that I made a grab for the talisman. I assumed that was definitely the Mehmet talisman Cameron was looking for. I kind of figured that if it made spirits solid then I could touch it.

  Sure enough I could feel the weight of the talisman in my hand when I wrapped my fingers around it. Tsuen turned and brought down his sword. The chain on the talisman snapped so I could get out of the way in time. At least only losing my left arm. It’s odd, really. I didn’t feel it at all.

  Why so upset? Come on. I’m almost done. I’ll stop boring you with this.

  Cameron slipped by Tsuen and tried to grab me. Both of us were shocked when his hands passed right through me. Without wasting a second Cameron grabbed my chain instead. He jumped through the wall and pulled me right behind him.

  Cameron stumbled through the new room before landing on all fours. He vomited and rolled over on his side shivering.

  “The Dread Pirate needs a moment to compose,” Ryoma said. “He just entered the Astral with his physical body to get through that wall.”

  “Does that take a lot out of him?”

  “Not so much,” Cameron said, “But the Astral is not designed for humans to live. I might as well have just jumped into space. You’d be amazed by what nothing could do to a man.”

  “Where are we?”

  “In a panic room. Walls and a door are nearly as the thick as the hull. Door only uses an internal timer for the lock. The Draco take their yearly breaks here. I’d say we’ve got about forty-five minutes before the door opens. The Talisman was a bust-“

  “But why can I hold it? I thought I couldn’t interact with physical objects.”

  “I don’t know. That’s not as important as getting off this God forsaken yoni before that door opens again.” There was a crash outside the blast door.

  “Looks like Tsuen is blasting the door with ki,” Ryoma said and then pulled his upper body back through the wall. “I’d say we have about five minutes.”

  “Fuck,” Cameron was sitting up now. “I’m really rethinking this whole ‘too good to blink you out of existence’ ideal.”

  “Well why don’t you?” Ryoma said. “Because you’ve managed so well without using the big magick so far.”

  “Maybe if my Yojimbo was far more competent I wouldn’t have to!”

  “That body you let me borrow is crap. You’re too tall, barely gave me enough fingers to fire that gun, sword was too heavy, and the gun was too light.”

  At this point I glazed over in the same way that I would when my parents would fight. My mind wondered off compiling code for the new front page for BadBoyswithBigBirds.com. I immediately purged the thoughts from my mind when a transparent version of the site floated over my head. Fortunately, I don’t think anyone noticed.

  I looked down at the talisman in my hand. I ran my thumb over the inscription on its stone face. It actually felt real to me not like the distant feeling of Tsuen’s sword. There wasn’t even any pain in my arm, but this talisman felt real. The arrangement of the symbols on the talisman reminded me of something.

  “Hey,” I said, “The Astral is where thoughts and ideas filter down to reality, right?”

  “Yes, but we’ll deal with your remedial metaphysics lessons later. Right now the adults are talking.”

  “I think I know how the talisman works.”

  “Go on.”

  “I think the talisman is like computer code. You compile the code in the Astral to make a change in reality.” I held up the M
ehmet talisman. “I don’t think this is real. That’s why I can pick it up.” I tossed the talisman to Cameron.

  He rolled the talisman around in his hand, and a light of understanding flickered in his eyes.

  He turned towards me and with blazing speeds wrote the symbol from the talisman on me with a glowing index finger. I hate to admit that it kind of tickled. Then the damnedest thing. He punched me square in the stomach. He knocked the wind right out of me – it was like getting sucker punched in real life.

  He tore the symbol off of me, which was like getting your nipple ripped off on duct tape. And then passed his hand through me.

  “Son of a bitch…” I said, “That actually hurt.”

  “You can return that punch if you ever meet me in your body.” There was another crash from the outside. Now a dent was visible in the door. “Alright, change in plans.” Cameron drew his flintlock pistol with his left hand – his five fingers wrapped around the handle. He turned to me and flashed a toothy grin. He knew exactly what I was thinking. “What? You’re a computer guy. You should know the importance of restoring to an earlier backup.” Cameron leaned over to pick up the hilt of the broken Lemurian sword. He smiled and turned the sword over in his hand. The light danced down the razor edge of the full-length sword.

  “Ryoma come here, and I’ll fill you in.” Ryoma floated into Cameron. “Alright. I’m going to up Tsuen’s dosage to ten millitres of anti-matter.” Cameron pulled a shell the size of a chicken egg out of the air like a magician. “But first this shell.”

  Cameron pulled the trigger, and there was a huge flash of light. The blast doors to their credit were still intact, but had been blown off the hinges. A good portion of the wall went with it. Tsuen sidestepped the door and charged across the gap. Cameron traced the Talisman in the air; Ryoma leapt through it, and grabbed the sword. I couldn’t help but be reminded of you in the morning – spritzing perfume in the air and then jumping trough it.