🚀 go-pugleaf

(continued from part one...)

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        Once again, Pli found himself...somewhere else.  An ectoplasmic
entity, imposed on the dimensions of reality, he was no more than an
observer here.  And "here" was a small graveyard.  He had the ominous
feeling that he'd be spending far more time in graveyards than he'd want to
in the near future.  But maybe it was just his imagination.  Still, he felt
uncomfortable here, and started walking away from the small cluster of
tombstones.
        He stopped, realizing that several of the grave markers weren't
stone at all, but metal.  Odd...since when did anyone use metal tombstones?
Overcoming his feeling of dread, he walked up to what appeared to be a
fairly fresh grave and looked at the inscription, which was engraved with
incredible precision.
        "John Anders - b 2085...."
        2085?  Was he slipping through time as well as dimension now?  He
read on....
        "d 2114.  He will XXX be forgotten."
        Odd, a word had been defaced, fairly crudely.  It seemed to be "not"
and that would make sense for a grave.  Was this man so hated that vandals
couldn't wait for the grave to grow over with grass before violating it?
Pli looked more closely...the metal seemed to still be hot from the welder
or whatever had been used to erase the letters.  He looked around for a
culprit.  Smirking, he realized that even stuck in a strange reality and
unable to do anything, his "hero" behavior was still active.
        He caught a glimpse of a dark-haired young lady, and tried to run
after her.  He felt that shifting sensation he'd felt just before
arriving...guess it's time to leave.
        When the mists resolidified and he could see again, he found himself
in what seemed to be an operating theater for giants.  Everything towered
over him.  Except for her.
        The woman he'd seen in the graveyard...apparently he'd "followed"
her in an unintentional way.  She looked several years older, and that was
just her body.  Her face was lined with pain and sorrow, and made her look
far older.  An IV drip was attached to her arm, which stuck out from under
the sheet which covered her body.
        Then he noticed that the sheet stopped too soon.  Her legs were
totally gone below the knees.  He winced despite himself.  He heard a
clanking noise and turned to see a giant robot of some kind entering the
room.  He nearly froze when he saw the robot looking straight at him, but
when it looked away, he realized it must have been looking at something
behind him.  The robot then started to shave the woman's head with some sort
of sonic device.  When this was done, he lowered a helmet of some kind onto
her and activated it.  She shook violently, and restraints shot out of the
sides of the pallet and held her fast.  What was this robot doing to her?
Was this some sort of punishment for defacing the grave?  Or had that only
been one of her crimes, and she was now facing a well-deserved execution?
        Horrible minutes passed as the body twitched and heaved in agony.
Then Pli realized that the IV drip had been stopped when the process
started.  Perhaps the pain was because of her wounds, not because of the
device?  The robot certainly acted like a surgeon...could this be some
advanced technique to regenerate her legs?  Having talked to more than a few
regenerating heroes, Pli knew the process wasn't always painless.
        During the process, the woman managed to kick the sheets off,
exposing the red, angry wounds on her legs as well as various contusions and
cuts on the rest of her body.  Her stomach looked like she'd lost a round
with Ultimate Ninja.  Pli turned away for a moment, but felt compelled to
watch, and soon turned back.
        After what seemed like an eternity to him (and who knows how long to
*her*!) the helmet was lifted from her head.  She wasn't healed in the
least.  In fact, there were several minor burn marks on her bare skull now.
Her body just lay there, like she was a vegetable.  Had the robot
lobotomized her?
        The robot seemed to ignore the body, as if it as merely waste
material now.  It was totally absorbed in some kind of computer readouts.
Pli craned his neck up (and up and up) to see the screen, but the figures
flashed by so quickly they didn't even register on his eyes.
        Everything started to fade again.  Pli faintly heard the robot say,
to someone he couldn't see, another robot just at the edge of his blurring
vision, "I've run all the tests I can...I suppose it comes down to one
question now.  How do you feel, Miss Anders?"
        Then everything was gone again.

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        Pli found himself in what looked to be a decimated part of a city.
Windows were shattered, garbage laid strewn all over the street, and
sometimes whole buildings were collapsed.
        On closer inspection, Pli recognized the city as being Net.ropolis.
        This worried him greatly.  Had he somehow travelled into the future,
arriving after the revolution those three people were talking about?
        His thoughts were interrupted by a commotion from behind him.  He
turned to see a dark-garbed woman pushing her way through a small crowd of
people, many of whom looked like they hadn't taken baths in weeks.
        "Please!  Let me pass!  The fate of the world depends on it!" the
woman was saying.
        To Pli's surprise, a hovercar came out from around a corner, and
settled down on the ground, blocking the woman's path.  Two soldiers --
extremely tough-looking soldiers, I might add -- stepped out and walked
straight towards her.
        "Alright, lady, you're coming with us," one of them said.  "You're
under arrest for disturbing the peace and conspiring with the resistance."
He grabbed her roughly and led her to the hovercar.
        "You do not understand," the woman was saying.  "My business has to
do with the fate of the world...of life as we know it."
        "Well, I don't care!" the soldier said.  "The world isn't yours
anymore, so shut up and we might let you live!"
        Pli briskly ran over to the car.  "Let her go!" he shouted before
realizing that the soldiers couldn't hear him.
        It was as the first soldier was closing the door to the compartment
they had put the woman in that Pli saw her face...and recognized it.
        All-Knowing Last Chance Whiner Destiny Woman.

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        The travelling continued, and Pli found himself jumping from world
to world, never able to do more than observe.  The worlds ranged from the
serious to the silly, from the incredible to the insipid.

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        He found himself watching what appeared to be a blur with antlers
burst through a gigantic space cruiser.

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        He watched three men faced off against three other men in a bowling
alley, and watched as one of them pressed a button on a large device around
his waist, which promptly unfolded into armor.  Only it was on him
backwards.

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        He saw two men and what looked to be a small furry child taking a
walk through a park.

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        He saw a group of people huddled together in an archway.  One of
them looked injured.

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        He saw costumed superbeings spending time in jail, having a party to
keep themselves entertained while waiting to be released.

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        Hours passed, then days.  Maybe.  Pli quickly lost track of time --
it was easy to do.

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        Pli found himself standing in a long hallway, near a stairwell that
led down but not up.  The stairwell was behind him, and the part of the
hallway to his left was dark.  Walking down the part to his right, he
noticed that some of the rooms on either side of him were classrooms.  "Oh,
great," he muttered to himself.  "Another school."  He could tell through
windows in the classrooms that it was night out, and reasoned that he was
probably on a college campus; most high schools (and grammar schools)
weren't usually open this late.
        Farther down the hall, there were two lit rooms, on one either side
of the hallway.  As he got closer, he saw computer terminals near both doors
-- the rooms were computer labs.
        Just as he reached the labs, two people walked out of the one on the
right.  One was a physically fit young man with short, dark-brown hair
wearing a maroon-colored t-shirt and black sneakers.  The other was slightly
overweight, had curly, black hair, and wore an ice-green Suicide Squid
t-shirt, glasses, and blue jeans that had obviously been through the wash
one too many times.  The first person didn't look familiar to him, but he
recognized the second as Mike Escutia.  Also known as Ergh -- Pli's Author.
        "Ergh!" Pli shouted, hoping to be heard.  After all, if his own
Author can't hear him, who can?
        But Ergh didn't hear him.  He didn't even seem to acknowledge Pli's
"presence".  Pli wondered if he was in an alternate universe where Mike
Escutia *didn't* write fanfiction stories.
        "...So now you have a job that's giving you experience, too," Mike
was saying to the first young man, who was apparently a friend of his.  "and
I've got nothing."
        "You've got your consultant job here," his friend said.
        "That's different, Sean," Mike responded.  "Sure, it's paying me
money, but it's not giving me any *experience*."  He leaned dejectedly
against the wall and contemplated his feet for a moment.
        "Well, you should try to get a job this summer -- any job, not just
computers.  Then you can apply for something up here when you get back in
the fall," Sean suggested.  "At least you'll have money to save up for a
computer."
        "I suppose..." Mike said.  "Oh, I don't know."  He sighed, and Pli
got the impression that the past few months hadn't been too kind to his
Author.
        "Well, I've got to get going," Sean said after a moment.
        "Okay.  We're still going to get together for lunch tomorrow,
right?"  Mike asked.
        "Sure, maybe around noontime," Sean said.
        "Okay," Mike agreed.  "See you then, Sean."  Sean headed down the
hallway to a set of stairs at the end, the reflective material on his L.L.
Bean bookbag glowing just slightly from the lights in the ceiling.
        Mike quickly grabbed a drink of water from the water fountain across
from the lab and headed back to the room he had come out of.  Pli stood
directly in his path, hoping that bumping into Pli would get Mike to notice
him.
        To Pli's dismay, though, Mike didn't notice him, but rather kept
on walking -- right through him!
        "Oh, boy," Pli muttered.
        Mike walked over to the terminal he was set up at, put on a set of
headphones attached to a Walkman, and started typing.  Pli noticed that he
was listening to the _Top Gun_ soundtrack.  Out of curiosity, Pli looked
over his shoulder at what he was doing.
        He was typing a story.
        This story.
        "Oh, boy," Pli muttered.
        ""Oh, boy," Pli muttered.", the screen read.
        "Heh.  Shades of Spaceballs," Pli grinned.
        ""Heh.  Shades of Spaceballs," Pli grinned.", the screen said.
        "Hmmm...."
        ""Hmmm....""
        Pli got an idea.  "Hey, Mike!  Look behind you!" he said.
        "Pli got an idea.  "Hey, Mike!  Look behind you!" he said.", the
screen said.
        Mike continued typing, oblivious to the person behind him...or was
he ignoring him?
        "Yeah, I'm ignoring you, Pli," Mike chuckled -- and typed.  Pli
couldn't help gaping at him.
        The all-too-familiar sensation of leaving a world came to Pli again
as the mists began to envelope him.  As everything faded away, Pli thought
he heard Mike say "Later, Pli."

                *       *       *       *       *       *

        This time, Pli was surprised to find himself in the back end of a
crowd.  The people all around him were all dressed up in colors of mourning
-- they were returning from a funeral.  Behind him, Pli could hear the
ocean, and he wondered who would be buried on a shoreline.  He turned around
to see if he could see anything, but he didn't see anyone.  He also didn't
see the dark figure flying overhead just then.
        That's when he noticed that there was something was familiar about
the surrounding area.  He had seen it before...in Net.ropolis.
        Realizing that he was home, Pli whooped and shouted to the first
person he saw.  "Hey!  Hi there!  How's it going?"
        But no one saw him.
        Cautiously approaching the closest person to where he was standing,
Pli slowly reached out his hand...and it went right through the man as if he
wasn't even there.  Which, for all intents and purposes, was true.
        Pli's heart sank.  This wasn't the Net.ropolis that he knew -- the
one he 'started over' in.  It was another alternate universe Net.ropolis,
just like in the Oddball universe.  As he had countless times already, Pli
was faced with the possibility that he'd never return to alt.comics.lnh.
The one he knew, that is.
        And yet, there was something about this world that seemed right...
        Without warning, the crowd started to panic.  Pli quickly turned
around to see what was causing the disturbance.  He saw three things that
completely surprised him.
        The first was a human-sized, starry figure floating high above the
crowd, barely visible against the overcast sky.  Pli recognized him almost
immediately -- it was Constellation.
        The second was a giant, armored figure standing over the city.  Pli
recognized him from LNH dossiers -- ReFoDis.
        On the ground, Pli saw that crowd control was being handled by
Legionnaires, including Sig.Lad, Kid Kirby, and Catalyst Lass.  Most of them
were up front, closest to the RACelestial.  Pli ran through the crowd (and I
do mean *through*) and joined the people he recognized as his teammates.
        After surveying the scene for a moment -- not that it mattered to
him -- ReFoDis raised his hand and pointed at Pli, seemingly singling him
out, and a single word echoed in his mind.

        <<DECIDE>>

        To Pli, it was more than a word.  It was even more than a request
to make one of the most important decisions of his life.
        It was the final piece of the puzzle.
        All those worlds he visited -- the Oddball LNH... the world with the
gauntletted heroes... the college dormitory... the futuristic graveyard and
operating room... this world... and, to an extant, the real world of Ergh...
there was one thing they all had in common: They were all fanfic worlds like
the Looniverse.
        That meant they had one *other* thing in common, and ReFoDis's
appearance cinched it.  And it was something that could only be described by
its name:

        Rec.

        Arts.

        Comics.

        Creative.

        Pli stepped forward, away from the crowd.  Behind him, the Legion of
Net.Heroes and the people of the city of Net.ropolis stood in silent vigil.
They had all cast their votes; now all they could do was wait.  Some prayed.
Others silently fingered good luck necklaces.  Lovers held each other.
Pocket Man and Organic Lass held hands.  The Ultimate Ninja watched ReFoDis.
Self-Righteous Preacher muttered a silent prayer.  Constellation slowly
landed, joining his teammates.
        Several feet in front of the crowd, but completely unseen by them,
Pli looked up at ReFoDis the Schizmator and sent the giant being a single
word:

        YES!

        The mists surrounded him again, but this time, it felt different --
he had reached the end of the journey.  His time as a phantom traveller was
over now.  He was going home.
        The mists thinned out, but only slightly.  Despite the fog, he could
see something.  It was a large, golden door, standing over twenty feet high.
There was a combination lock on the handle.  He couldn't read the numbers,
but he sensed that they kept changing...increasing.
        The force wave, tho not tangible to Pli, was pushing against the
door, working to open it.
        And, in that instant, Pli knew what had happened to him.  The force
wave had deposited him at its target -- the door to RACC.  He knew that the
force wave was trying to break through the door -- through the barrier --
and that it was the embodiment of the movement to reach RACC.  He also
realized that there was a reason he was only a phantom: RACC didn't exist;
it would be a phantom world until it was created.
        In the center of the door was emblazoned the Rec.Arts.Comics insig-
nia.
        Then his world went white, and he went home.


                                    FIN


All characters are property of their respective authors, and this story is
copyrighted 1994 by Mike Escutia.  Permission is granted for the
distribution of this story via SUPERGUY and for archival, but all other
rights, including repost, are reserved to the author(s).

References for 9-13:
    9. _A Symphony For Tarot and Buzzsaw_, by various.
    10. _CalForce_ #102, by Gary W. Olson.
    11. _Two Guys & a Lemming_ #2, by Yvonne Bennett.
    12. _Glitch Girl & the Alt.Ter.Net.Tives_ #4, by Marie E. Antoon.
    13. _Fugue & Fatigue_, by various.

Mike "Ergh" Escutia (tm) himself.
Sean McAllister (tm) himself.  Hi, Sean.
Kid Kirby (tm) Jameel al Khafiz.
All-Knowing Last Chance Whiner Destiny Woman created by wReam.
ReFoDis created by Dave Van Domelen.

Special thanks to Chris Sypal for the "fifth wall" concept.  It's what
    got me thinking about this story. :)


--
Mike Escutia | NOTICE: If you notice this notice, you will notice after
mike@unh.edu | noticing this notice that this notice was not worth noticing.
Ergh on IRC  | ---------------------Read Superguy!--------------------------
-----Author, "Hero Patrol", Superguy Digest (listserv@ucf1vm.cc.ucf.edu)----