🚀 go-pugleaf

[Note: This story takes place between Pliable Lad #15 and #16, and was
originally posted in May 1994.]

The Story So Far:

        In a secret installation in the center of Omaha, an experiment went
wrong.  Disasterously wrong.  Most of a cornfield was annihilated in a
fireball, but that wasn't the worst damage.  The experiment dealt with the
reality of the Net, and the explosion caused a vast amount of damage to the
surrounding reality, not to mention prematurely sending a force wave into
the Net.
        This wave, while passing through various newsgroups, attracted the
attention of Drifter and Windrider in alt.fan.warlord.  The Ultimate Ninja
sent Pliable Lad, Parking Karma Kid, and Tour Guide Girl to investigate the
explosion, along with Easily-Discovered Man, Easily-Discovered Man Lite, and
the R-Men.  Easily-Discovered Man developed a strange urge to build a Peril
Room in the middle of a corn field, and the long-dead Golden Age hero Boy
Lad materialized out of nowhere and joined the group of heroes.
        When all the heroes gathered at the site of the explosion, they went
down into the crater to investigate a strange patch of scrambled reality
left by the accident.  It fluxed wildly and pulled all of them in.  The
heroes found themselves in a strangely empty reality consisting of nothing
but a vast plain and a white sky.  Windrider, who is telepathic, picked up a
huge number of not particularly friendly spirits inhabiting the reality.
These spirits were leaving through a hole caused by the accident and
invading the Looniverse.
        The heroes went to investigate the hole into the Looniverse, but
Drifter and Windrider began to realize that Boy Lad knew more about the
situation than he was saying.  They finally confronted him at the site of
the interdimensional vortex, and he turned on the heroes and threw Pliable
Lad into the force wave.

                *       *       *       *       *       *

                         Fourth Wall Press presents

                           Pliable Lad Annual #1
                            "Phantom Traveller"
                                     by
                                Mike Escutia
                               with help from
                                Ken Schmidt
                               Doug Atkinson
                               Greg Fishbone
                              Dave Van Domelen

                                 Forward by
                                Russ Allbery

                          Inspired by the works of
             Ben Pierce, Russ Allbery, Chris Sypal, Rob Rogers,
          David Henry, Arthur Spitzer, K. M. Wilcox, Mike Escutia,
                      David Anastasion, Steinar Bergst


                      "As I travel in space and time,
                       I want to stay, I want to go.
                     You see my face but it's not mine;
                   What you can't see, you'll never know.

                     How can we meet if I'm not there;
                  Our hearts may touch, our bodies close.
                   But time divides what we might share,
                    And sends us all where no one goes.

                     I'm just a traveler, upon the sea,
                  Of time, of life, of Fate's Wide Wheel.
                      Just a traveler in this mystery;
                   The me I am is all that's real to me."

                                    --Scott Bakula
                                      "Fate's Wide Wheel"

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        Pliable Lad opened his eyes to nothingness.
        Well, not quite nothingness.  Rather, it was more like a thick fog
surrounding him, making it impossible for him to see more than an arm's
length away, and even that was iffy.  He seemed to be floating, but at the
same time, he had a vague feeling of standing on *something*, even though
there was definitely nothing tangible beneath his feet.
        He struggled to remember what had happened to him.  They -- Pli,
Touri, Parking Karma Kid, Easily-Discovered Man and Lite, Drifter,
Windrider, and Boy Lad -- had become trapped in another reality, and were
searching for a way to stop a race of beings of pure psychic energy from
invading the Looniverse.  Pli remembered them finding something -- a pocket
of reality distortion -- and himself and Drifter demanding that Boy Lad tell
them what *else* he knows.  And then, Boy Lad threw Pli into the distortion.
And the feeling it gave Pli was the same feeling he got when they fell
through the piece of scrambled reality....back in alt.comics.lnh.
        Pli's jaw dropped as the sudden realization dawned on him: he had
been travelling on the force wave.  The same force wave that had been
created in Net.braska and which was now travelling through the Net.
Windrider had explained it to him and the others while they were in that
weird reality.
        He remembered something else, the mental link Windrider had
established so that he and Drifter could communicate telepathically without
the others knowing about it.  Wondering if the connection was still there,
he concentrated for a moment.
        Nothing.  He couldn't feel the others' presence in the back of his
head like he could when they were conferring with him.  He concentrated some
more, hoping that Windrider would 'hear' him, but soon gave up when it was
painfully clear that it wasn't working.
        He wondered how Touri was taking his disappearance.  For all she
knew, he could have been dead.  No matter what she thought, tho, she was
most likely terrified, both for Pli and for herself.  And he couldn't blame
her, either.
        Suddenly, the fog seemed to lift, and the mists parted...

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        Pli slowly shook his head and let out a long breath.  He wasn't sure
if he passed out, or what.  His head was throbbing a bit and he couldn't
quite make out his surroundings.  He realized he was laying on the floor,
with a groan he stood up and blinked a few times to clear his eyes.  What he
saw made him blink more.
        "I'm in the LNHQ!"  Pli ran out to try and find some help, he had to
let Touri know he was not hurt.  Pli hurried to the monitor room, only to
find it empty.  'Weird.  I can't believe that neither Multi-Tasking Man or
wReamhack aren't here...'  He decided to head to the Peril Room, figuring
someone had to be there.
        Pli took the most direct path he could remember, when he realized
that things weren't exactly right.  He stopped short at the swinging doors
that lead to the cafeteria.  "Wait a minute here, I know that things have
shifted around at the HQ before, but the cafeteria?!  Here?!"  Pli was
talking aloud to himself.
        Without warning the door flew open at Pli, who instinctively covered
his head with his arms.  After a few seconds, Pli slowly peeked out from
between his arms.  Somehow, the door missed him.  He turned to see who left
and quickly ran after them, "Hey! Kid Chivalry!  Wait!"  Pli couldn't tell
who the other person was, but it was definately a she.
        The person who Pli thought was Kid Chivalry turned to his companion,
"Belle, what are you doing this weekend?  I was thinking we could take in a
dinner."
        The female stopped and looked ready to punch him squarely in the
face, "Look, I have to lead this band. I don't have the time for
socializing, least of all with you!"
        Pli froze.  'No.'
        "Aw, come one.  Just one date."
        Pli said out loud, "No!"  He moved behind the male, intending to
turn him around.  Instead, he was caught off-balance.  He fell to the floor
and almost yelled, "NO!"
        He looked up in surprise.  Not only had they completely ignored him,
but his hand had passed through...
        "Kid Shiverly, leave me alone!"
        Pli buried his head in his hands, he wasn't home, he was in the
ODDBALL LOONIVERSE!
        The conversation in front of him was suddenly interupted by lots and
lots of...clucking?
        Kid Shiverly and Revely Belle exchanged glances and hurried away
from the sound.  Pli turned, and was happy he wasn't able to interact when
he saw...something...
        "Come back, you are gonna miss my intr...aw, shoot!  No one wants to
see the re-vamped me...Kid Poultry, Fowl crusader!"
        Pli didn't stick around very long, he had someone he wanted to look
for.  He tested a theory, and walked right through a wall, 'Well, I can get
around better now.'  His search did not take too long, and he found who he
was looking for.  Pli grinned when he realized who he was looking for was
being chewed out thoroughly by Penultimate Ninja.  Pli walked up behind him
and gave Liable Lad 'rabbit ears'.
        Liable Lad seemed to be defending himself, "But Penny!  It was all
true, I'm tellin-"
        Penultimate Ninja's TruEdge Katana blade was quickly in his hand,
"Don't call me Penny!"
        Pliable Lad busied himself making faces at Libale Lad and lost any
interest in their conversation.  Pli sighed in resignation at his futile
attempts to pick up a pen from Penultimate Ninja's desk to try and give
Liable Lad a mustache, when Pli realized his counterpart was near tears.
        "That's great, you never liked me, did you?!  I'll just go back to
that other place and live with the other LNH I found!"
        Pli felt something like a kick to his stomach, and at first thought
it was from the sheer ... oddballness of the situation, but he realized, the
grey mist was back.

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        Pli was seized with the feeling of rematerialization.  He was in a
placid setting; it looked like a television news studio.
        The man at the desk was wrapping up the sports scores when an
explosion tore open the studio wall.  All eyes turned to the man who burst
through; he was dressed in camos and wore some sort of strength- augmenting
exoskeleton. _Aw, no,_ thought Pli, _can't I go somewhere peaceful?  And
relatively normal?_
        Mr. Exoskeleton pointed a forearm at the sports commentator.  "All
right.  I've got an Uzi loaded in this arm, so no funny stuff."  The
commentator trembled. "I know the Sculptress has something to do with this
studio.  You've got five minutes to give me her real name or address, or I
start loosening heads."
        Pli started forward, then caught himself when he realized it
wouldn't do any good.  There seemed to be supers here; let them handle it,
'cause he sure couldn't.
        A tense three minutes passed before something decisive happened.
Through the hole in the wall flew another man, this one a young Hispanic man
dressed in leather.  His right hand caught Pli's attention; it looked like
it was made of silver.
        The exo-suited man thrust his arm further forward.  "You're Vargas,
right?  Back off or I drill him."
        "Hey, no problem." Vargas' English was very good, only slightly
tinted by an accent. "I don't want anyone to get hurt.  I give up.  At
least, until you realize that I don't need to point to stop you, and-- " the
exo-suited man's right forearm was encased in a yellow forcefield--"if you
can't fire your weapons, you're screwed, right?"
        Exo-suit cursed and swung his left arm around, but it, too, was
encased.  Vargas started forward--

        --And Pli felt himself pulled away again.  He strove briefly to
fight it, but gave up and went with the flow.  This didn't seem to be
something he could resist.
        He rematerialized in an apartment.  A small Japanese woman was...no,
not standing...hovering by the stove, cooking something (spaghetti, maybe?
Pli couldn't smell it very well).  Her left hand was made out of the same
silver stuff as Vargas' right.
        The door opened, and another young woman entered the kitchen,
carrying a sack of groceries. "Hi, Kelly, she said, kissing the other woman
on the cheek.  Pli was taken aback.  _Have I jumped from action flick to
porn flick?  If not, why am I watching something this domestic?_
        The phone rang, and the Caucasian woman grabbed it.  "'Lo.  Yeah,
I'll get her." She held out the phone. "It's for you, Kelly."
        Kelly floated over. "Hello.  Senorita Tanaka yourself.  What's up?"
        She listened, then her face grew grave. "He what?  Damn."
        The scene began to fade.  Pli held on, expecting the worst.  He was
ushered out by, "Well, fine.  I'll quit on Wednesday..."

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        Pli found himself on a street lined with houses in what must have
been the middle of the day.  The area was strangely quiet, save for the
occasional dog barking.  He found this rather odd, even for a neighborhood
such as this one.
        Quite suddenly, a human-shaped blurr zipped down the street, turning
effortlessly onto a driveway near Pli.  It quickly slipped through the door
of the house at the top of the driveway.  Pli, his curiosity piqued, decided
to follow.
        The blur turned out to be a young man with dark brown hair.  He
walked down the eight stairs from the door to the basement, where two others
were watching a TV station carrying what appeared to be a live simulcast of
something.
        "Man, there's noone on the streets," the speedster said as he
plopped down on the couch next to Rob.
        "Really?  You should have invited him over," the younger-looking of
the others replied.
        The first tactfully ignored the quip.  "Where'd the girls go?"
        "They went to the mall," the third said.  "Bargain-shopping."
        "They'll be in luck, I'm sure."
        "I would think so.  Most of the stores there are trying to entice
people away from their radios and TVs with sales today.  Rather sleazy, but
it works."  He got up and got out a pair of sunglasses.  Pli noticed that he
was dressed in an al-black bodysuit.  A costume.
        "Going somewhere?" the speedster asked.
        "I'm going to go on patrol," the man in black replied.  "I need to
get my mind off the Revolution for a while."
        <Revolution?>, Pli thought.  <Don't tell me I've landed in the
middle of a war!>
        "Ah, so we're not getting involved in it, I take it," the other
young man said.
        "Not on the Revolutionaries' side, and only if we're called upon.
Sound good?"
        "Yup.  We're too young and innocent to go to war just now,"
        "My thoughts exactly," the man in black said.  "Later, guys," he
added as he left.
        "Earlier."
        As they heard motorcycle pull away from the house and head down the
street, the speedster turned to the other young man and asked "What do you
think?"
        "I think we should find something else to watch.  Hand me the
remote."
        Pli, meanwhile, stood dumbfounded.  What had he gotten into this
time?  Was he going to play invisible witness to a war?  He didn't even know
what was happening to him.  Why was he witnessing all this?  And what did
what he was seeing have to do with what was happening to him?
        He didn't have time to answer any of these questions, for the mists
appeared once again to take him away...

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        Another moment of disorientation, or a lifetime, and Pliable Lad
stepped out of the mists into yet another dimension.  He stood in a hallway
with linoleum floor and acoustic-foam ceiling.  To his immediate left was a
door with a dry-erase message board, several "Far Side" and "Calvin and
Hobbes" comics cut from newspapers, and a hand-printed sign that read, "Mark
and Kyle live here -- enter at your own risk!"
        "College dormitory," said Pli to himself, noting the loud strains of
Bangles music coming from within.  He turned to the other side of the
hallway, where the white plaster wall was decorated with an elaborate mural
depicting a red-haired girl in a Japanese school uniform engaged in a
sword-fight with a furry creature that slightly resembled an aardvark.
"A-ko versus Cerebus," was written at the top of the mural in stylized
letters, with smaller writing, "by Kyle Seamus, class of '97.  Thanks to
Tom, Laurel, Mark, Nick, Tracy, and Stacy."
        While Pli was admiring the artwork, a student came walking down the
hallway toward him, walking right past as if Pliable Lad did not exist,
stopping in front of Mark's and Kyle's door.  "Kyle!"  he shouted, while
pounding on the door.  "I know you're in there, Kyle!"
        Pli waved his hand in front of the boy's face, trying to attract his
attention, desperate to make contact of any kind with just one member of
just one of the dimensions he found himself in.  The boy remained oblivious,
even when Pli shouted in his ear and tried tapping him on the shoulder.
        The door opened, and the volume of the music increased to near
deafening levels.  "Nick?" asked another boy, most likely Kyle Seamus, from
inside the room.  "What's up?"
        "We were kind of wondering if you could do something about the
music..." said Nick, tentatively.
        "Too loud?"
        "No, it's just that you've been playing the same song over and over
again for two days straight!  We're all getting a little sick of 'Hero Takes
a Fall', especially Mark.  He's too polite to say anything, but he had to
sleep in the lounge last night to get away from your music!"
        "Oh.  No problem."  Nick followed Kyle into the room, with Pli
following them both, unseen by either one.  Kyle popped a CD out of the
stereo and carefully selected another from his large collection.  Soon, the
room was filled with the soulful voice of Tina Turner.
        "'We Don't Need Another Hero'," Nick noted.  "At least it's
something different..."  Kyle shrugged indifferently and sat down on his
bed, where he picked up a sketchpad and resumed the drawing he must have
been working on when Nick knocked.  Pli noticed that the walls on Kyle's
side of the room were covered floor to ceiling with artwork -- and the guy
was pretty talented.  Pli sat on the other bed in the room, resigned to the
fact that there was nothing he could do to make himself known to either of
these two.  All he could do was wait for his jump to the next dimensional
reality -- and hope that it would finally be alt.comics.lnh or some other
recognizable part of the Net, and he could figure out a way to *stay*
there...
        Nick stood beside Kyle, looking over his shoulder as he drew.
"What--?  Who is *that* supposed to be?"
        "Nobody.  It's just something that came to me," Kyle told him.
"Pretty weird, huh?"
        "Yeah."  Nick nodded, taking his attention away from the drawing to
look around the room, as if searching for something.  For a moment, he
looked directly at Pliable Lad, and Pli caught his breath in surprise.
Then, Nick shook his head and started toward the door back to the hallway.
"How long are you going to listen to *this* song?" he asked, on the way out.
        "As long as it takes," said Kyle, looking up at a picture on his
wall of a teenaged girl who seemed to be made up entirely of light
particles, standing in front of a tombstone that read, "Sunbeam, 1976-1994,
Rest in Peace."  A chill ran down Pli's spine.
        The energy built up around him again, and his surroundings seemed to
fade, along with the background music.  The mist rose up to envelop him once
more, to take him home or to another place where he could only wander as a
ghost, unable to affect his surroundings even the smallest bit.  Just before
the scene faded completely, he saw Kyle, finished with his drawing, rip it
off of the sketchpad and hold it up in front of his wall, looking to find a
good place to hang it.
        It was a picture of Kyle himself, sitting on his bed, drawing.  Next
to him stood Nick, and behind them, like a ghostly image surrounded by mist
and fog, was a figure that bore a remarkable resemblance to Pliable Lad.
        The world slipped away, to be replaced by yet another.

(continued in part two...)