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Cowboys and Wizards

S01E09 - Dreamworld II

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I turned my attention overhead and gaped at the sight of a monstrous spirit flying through the inky void. I dropped back through the tent and rolled inside my body. That was plenty enough for now.

Rolling back through the mirror, I landed flat on my back staring at the fresco on the ceiling. Vinnie-God winked at me. Climbing to my knees, I brushed non-existent dust from my trousers and watched mirror-me rolling on the floor in soundless laughter.

“Hey, laughing-boy!” I yelled at him. “You’re like the guardian or something, right? You got it covered?”

Mirror-me stood and saluted with a smile, then gave me two thumbs up. A moment later, his face took on a serious expression and he wriggled his right hand in the ‘maybe’ motion. Then he pointed at me, tapped his wrist, and then a finger to his head.

It all depends on how fast I learn stuff, I guess.

Two thumbs up and a cheeky smile reflected back to me.

A large cork board was mounted to the wall over the computer and a small note was pinned to it. “Note to self: Don’t fuck with the Elvish womens.”

The computer screen featured a screensaver of me as Vitruvian Man doing callisthenics over the words ‘HumanOS’. I tapped the spacebar and was rewarded with the sound of powerful fans kicking to life as the computer emerged from sleep mode and prompted me for a password. Should I assume it’s the same as the password on the computer I pawned in my previous life?

Password: *******

I was rewarded with a sweet R&M desktop and a couple of icons. System, NeuralNet, Me-Tunes, My-Movies, My-Office.

System was just what I expected, lots of .dna files and other confusing scariness that allowed me to tweak my physical body. Me-Tunes was a collection of every song I’d ever heard and My-Movies was a collection of every movie I’d ever seen. Not that I’m complaining, but it would have been nice to have “My-Games” so I could play RDR. My-Office was a clone of the popular software by a similar name. I have no idea what I’ll ever need a spreadsheet for in this world.

NuralNet opened up a search engine called Me-Seeks, featuring a familiar blue guy.

I typed in “beer” and several thousand results were displayed, anything I’d ever read, heard, or watched about making beer. This right here made the price of admission totally worth it, access to an exact copy of everything I’d ever read, and I was a voracious reader. Sadly, most of the stuff I read was futurology — solar panels, electronics, biotech advancements, quantum computing. The material for steam engines, blacksmithing, farming and the like, were slim pickings. That’s okay though, I could still reproduce the Gutenberg press, the cotton gin, simple internal combustion engines, and basic batteries along with some sketchy knowledge of metal alloys, acids, bases, and other things I had read over the years. All that wasted time watching “How Things Work” was finally going to pay off. I copied a few likely money makers to My-Office, saved the file, and exported to my Notes, just in case they didn’t exist on Aerth.

The grandfather clock chimed 10:30 PM. I wondered if time ran slower in here, because it seemed like I had spent a lot more time on the computer than 15 minutes. Walking over to the imposing steel door, I noticed a bronze key with a chain in the lock. There was another sticky note on the door. “Subconscious. Please keep the key with you at all times.”

That’s not scary at all, is it?

I unlocked the door with a loud clunk and pulled it open to reveal a bedroom straight out of some royal castle. I could tell immediately that it had seen better days. The tapestries on the wall were frayed and fading. The canopy over the bed had a few holes in it. A thin layer of dust covered the mantle of a small fireplace set into the wall. There was a window letting in bright sunlight and I moved over to look outside.

I was three storeys up, surrounded by the walls and turrets of a modest castle. A castle that had fallen into serious disrepair. Did this represent the state of my inner mind? One tower was shattered and the curtain wall under it damaged. The lower bailey was full of litter. I could see a few soldiers walking around the allure, keeping watch.

I have people in my subconscious?

Someone behind me cleared their throat.

Whirling, I discovered a familiar old man standing in the door of the bedroom. What was left of his hair formed a white halo around his head, his face was unshaven and covered with several days of growth. He was dressed like a poor and tattered manservant, but carried himself with a dignified air.

“Woodhouse?”

“It’s nice to see the master at home,” He said with a proper accent. “There are many matters that require the master’s attention.”

“Uh, sure,” I said, hanging the key around my neck and tucking it in my shirt. “And who are you again?”

“Your personal manservant, of course” he said with a slight bow. Walking over to the steel door, he pulled it closed and it locked with a solid thunk. “Master should always keep his inner sanctum closed. One never knows when something nasty will creep in.”

“Thank you, uh, Woodhouse. I’ll remember that,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “So what needs tending and how do things work around here?”

He smiled and beckoned me with a white gloved hand. “If master would be so kind as to follow me, I’ll introduce him to the staff and explain the duties and obligations of his domain.”

I’m 99% certain that everyone here is just me wearing a mask, so I shrugged and followed Woodhouse out of the bedroom and into the rest of my subconscious.

-= NOTES =-

[CAST]

Vincent J. Carter

Horse

[PLACES]

Inner sanctum

Astral realm

Dreamworld

Subconscious

Master bedroom

[PEOPLE]

[OTHERS]

Vincent J. Carter (Mirror)

Vinnie-God

Woodhouse

-=- PERSONAL -=-

[[ Next chappie Wed 20jan21 ]]