Making Waves

“Why are we here?” Richard “Dictionary” Jones asked. “And I know you have already explained it but do it one more time for me.”

“For a man with the best memory in the world, you have a hard time grasping this.” sighed Eric Reader. “I am here to hunt down and find the Soul of the Kraken. You are here to impress your girlfriend. He is here to break anything that gets in our way.”

The man leaning over the railing, retching, wiped his mouth and looked at the two men. “I don’t think I am going to be breaking much of anything except the record for vomiting into the Atlantic.” he said, his face green and his eyes sick. His face twisted suddenly and paled as he quickly leaned back over the railing and made distressing sounds into the ocean below.

“Why don’t you dial up somebody who doesn’t get seasick?” Eric pressed.

“I’m not sure it works that way.” Jones began to explain before the stricken man straightened and turned to face them.

“It doesn’t.” he supplied. “I get seasick? All the versions of me get seasick too, because, no matter their differences, they are all me. It doesn‘t matter though, I think I have it under control now.”

“I would hope so. We aren’t moving and the ocean is about as calm as it can be in this place.” Eric snapped as he swept his hand out to indicate the waters around the trio.

Their medium sized fishing boat floated serenely amongst a vast field of seaweed. They were in the infamous Sargasso Sea. As far as their eyes could see, a becalmed ocean was being choked by great clumps of water plant and floating, plastic garbage. The Sargasso Sea rested between two great ocean currents, a stagnant stretch of water that had claimed far more ships in its life than anybody really knew.

“I know why we are here. What I meant was why we are here, specifically.” Dictionary elaborated.

“Because this is where the merpeople told me to go.” Eric answered, exasperated. “You know I helped a lost school of merpeople near Wilmington last month. They told me tales of a city beneath the waves, under the great sea of tendrils. They said this city was old before mankind as we know it. They said this city contained wonders undreamt, workings unfinished, and weapons of unimaginable power. They said it was the lost city of Mu.”

“That’s ridiculous. Mu is a myth, a fantasy, a story told by cartographers to fascinate their children at night.” Richard sniffed dismissively.

“I kind of agree with Dictionary. This sounds like a wild Machu Pichu chase.” Simon interjected, his voice weak and strained.

“Except Machu Pichu exists, along with every other myth and legend and story.” Eric said diplomatically. “Both of you live in the Shadow, with the monsters, and the ghoulies, and the long legged beasties, I would think you would be more open to the possibility of the unknown existing.”

“We totally are. We just don’t feel like diving to the bottom of the ocean to find the hidden city version of the Maltese Falcon.” Dictionary shot back.

“Can we talk about something else? I still have nightmares about that damnable thing.” Simon said, his voice even more quavering than before.

“Do you mean to say you know something about the Maltese Falcon?” Eric said slowly.

“Know something about it? Held it in my hands and let me tell both of you something.” Simon said seriously. “That is something you never, ever want to experience. Feels like your very soul is bleeding out of your hands, like all your happiness is being drained away. No. If there is anything like the Falcon down there, count me out.”

“Oh, stop being such a drama queen. We take a quick dive to the bottom, we look around, if we see something that looks like ruins? We investigate. If we see nothing? We come back up and head our separate ways. No harm, no foul.”

“I don’t care what we do, as long as we do something adventurous.” Jones answered.

“Is it really that bad?” Simon asked.

“Have you ever tried to impress a leather-clad super-heroine wielding foot-long silver daggers?” Richard replied, his head swiveling around to face Simon Le’Chance. “No? Then yes, it is that bad. How can I be the man in the relationship when the closest thing I have to an adventure is watching other people get beat up by the Insomniac?”

“I heard about that. Was it as bad as it sounded?” Simon asked.

“Worse. A lot worse.”

“Did the Believer actually hit him with a building?” Simon pressed, his eyes big and wondering.

“Well, he tried but it didn’t take.”

“Just keep that maniac locked up in the Shadow, we don’t have big enough guns out here to slow him down.” Eric said offhandedly.

“I’m not making any promises.” Richard grinned.

“We are in position. Ready yourselves. I am going to whip us up some transport.” Eric said authoritatively as he pulled open the large, ever-present, tome attached to his belt by a mystical chain. He studied the page before him and without preamble, began reading aloud. The sounds he uttered burned the ears, scarred the soul. They were harsh, and guttural, and resembled nothing of the languages of man. They were Words of power and only the brave, gifted, or mad spoke them without fear.

Dictionary Jones struggled to not listen to the Words Eric spoke to no avail. He hated working with magic-users, particularly those schools which needed to actually speak aloud. Now that he had heard the Words, they would give him the mother of all headaches. It was one of the many problems stemming from his ability to remember everything he heard, saw, smelled, tasted, or touched. Being able to memorize the internet had its advantages, but it had its drawbacks too.

As the Words slamming into him intensified, he drew in a deep, bracing, breath and relaxed. Pushing the pain to the background of his thoughts, he began working to lock away the memory of the spell Eric was casting. At first, he couldn’t force the Words away but then something gave way and relief washed through his mind.

Eric finished speaking and a golden bubble of energy formed above the gently rocking deck. Eric glanced back at his companions and indicated they should follow him as he stepped into the glowing sphere. Simon and Richard shared an uncertain glance and followed. When all three were in the bubble, Eric made a small gesture with his hand and the bubble gently floated out to hover over the water.

“Is everybody ready?” Eric grinned excitedly.

“No.” replied both men.

“Too bad! Here we go!” Eric cried and the bubble dropped beneath the waves.




****


Almost immediately, they were surrounded by dim, murky, shadow. Slowly, their eyes adjusted and they could make out the details of the water around them. As far as the eye could squint in the gloom, there was seaweed. Massive, roiling clumps of the stuff swayed gently in the calm water. Here and there, bits of trash swirled among the fronds; the mark of mankind, detritus and debris. Occasionally, a plastic bottle or scrap of paper – their markings illegible, would brush against the boundary of the sphere.

He had no idea what he was doing here. He wasn’t an adventurer, per say. He was a scientist. Sure, he sometimes worked with the Inspecter on a case or two. Yeah, he could dial up infinite versions of himself but this wasn’t his sort of deal. He was more the type to avoid trouble.

“Especially trouble that involves the ocean.” he murmured to himself.

“What?” Dictionary asked.

“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

“I have the feeling you do that a lot. You are the Infinite Man, after all.” Eric laughed.

“As I was saying, if you were a fan of Johnny Quest, you would think there would be more sunken ships in this stuff.” Jones continued, his voice wistful.

“You’ve seen Johnny Quest?” Simon asked.

“I’ve seen everything. It’s a curse.” Dictionary said wryly.

“Life isn’t a cartoon. Sure, the Sargasso Sea has claimed more than its fair share of sailing vessels but that has more to do with the becalmed nature of this area than the seaweed.” Eric said. “Cassidy filled me in on this place before I left, though I had to trick her into doing it. This is, after all, a secret mission.”

“Afraid she is going to try to steal the Soul after you steal it like in Raiders of the Lost Ark?” Jones asked.

“You watch too many movies.” Simon said.

“Only seen it once.” He shot back. “Why can’t she know? I thought you Cerberus Triads stuck together?”

“We do but Cerberus operatives aren’t supposed to go looking for trouble like this. We are supposed to report it to the head office.” Eric explained. “Technically, I am going off the reservation by doing this.”

“What’s so important about this Soul thing?” Simon asked.

“I explained this to you at Freelancers.” Freelancers wasn’t a gay bar, no matter what it sounded like. It was the place in Evercity where the brave, foolhardy, or in the case of Simon, mad, went looking for a drink and maybe a little trouble. It wasn’t the kind of place where they had to sweep up the souls after closing time like the Bacchanalia or the kind of place that only closed in case of the Apocalypse like Where Angels Fear to Tread but it had its fair share of characters and action.

Eric had gone there looking for some quiet backup. He had stumbled upon Dictionary Jones crying into his beer about not being able to impress his girl. Eric knew all about Dictionary and felt he would be a perfect addition to the group. Simon had been a different story. Eric had wanted somebody more reliable but Harry van Helsing was too expensive, Mr. Superior wasn’t at Freelancers because it wasn’t a gay bar, and Jacqueline Whitechapel was just too scary to be around-at least for anybody with a penis. So, Eric had been stuck with the nearly-mad scientist.

“I wasn’t paying attention. It’s sometimes difficult to focus on the here and now when you can see all the ‘here and now’s.” he replied offhandedly. Eric looked at him odd for a moment then nodded.

“Sounds weird but to be fair, you are weird.” He said solemnly. “Mu used to be the pinnacle of humanity. Sure, it was another age, another time but it was where science and magic and faith all combined for the first time. Mu was a place of wonder, with workings unimaginable, with discoveries undreamt until one fateful day when something went wrong and the entire city sank beneath the waves, possibly in this very spot.”

“We all know the legend but even I have never heard of the Soul of the Kraken and you still aren’t telling what it is.” Dictionary pressed.

“It’s what powered the entire city. It was the source of the greatest powers ever wielded by man, the engine driving machines that couldn’t even exist, the light behind prayers that were actually heard in the Heavens themselves.” Eric exclaimed excitedly. “It may be the most powerful artifact in history, a creation of infinite energy!”

“What do you want with it?” Simon asked.

“It’ll look great on my shelf.” Eric shrugged.


****

They plunged into the depths, past the floating seaweed and trash, past the dim and diffuse light, past vast schools of tiny, translucent fish, and into inky blackness. It felt as if they sank for hours, though time had no meaning in the empty void pressing around them. Finally, they felt a small bump and the sphere stopped moving.

“Last stop!” Eric cried out.

“Don’t say that.” Simon replied angrily. “It may be more prophetic then you think.”

“Sorry. I meant to say we are here.” He grinned in the gloom. “Time for some light, I think.”

He uttered a single harsh Word and a small globe of light appeared in the air above his shoulder. It danced and whirled about, bouncing from his left side to his right. Eric rolled his eyes for a moment at the antics and flipped open his ever-present grimoire.

“This may take a few minutes. Just make yourself comfortable.” Eric said as he sank to his knees, his tome spread out before him. “Feel free to talk, it won’t bother me.”

“What’s there to talk about? The crushing blackness around us? Or the crushing pressure? The crushing lack of oxygen?” Simon moaned.

“Gods, you are a whiner.” Dictionary lamented.

“I can’t help it. I’m claustrophobic.” He said morosely.

“Claustrophobic, motion sickness, are you diabetic too?” Jones demanded.

“A quarter of a million of me are, I blame high-fructose corn syrup.”

Dictionary stared at him. Simon Le’Chance, the Infinite Man, was average height with brown eyes, brown hair, and tan skin. His features were bland, unforgettable. He looked like nothing more than one of those composite photos of humanity, the every man.

Dictionary knew, however, that Simon was no ordinary man. He had been a string theory physicist and a damn good one. Legend had it, he had built a machine of some sort to reach across the dimensional barriers. When he had switched it on, something went wrong (or right, depending on how you looked at it) and all the infinite versions of Simon Le’Chance had been compressed into one body. For one moment, Simon Le’Chance had been a God within himself and it had nearly driven him mad.

He went the only place a nearly-mad scientist could go, the Shadow. There, he had learned forbidden sciences and forgotten magicks and talked to lost Gods. Eventually, he found a way to call up different versions of himself and became the Infinite Man. No matter the situation, the Infinite Man had a facet perfectly suited to it. The problem was, he was still nearly mad, no matter which version showed up.

Eric stood up suddenly. He drew in a deep breath and spit out a single, long, word that would have made Dick van Dyke blush in envy. The moment he finished speaking, the sphere flared with bright, white, light.

They were resting on a broken stone platform. Here and there, strange water plants had forced their way through the monolith. Their eyes weren’t on the plant life however. Instead, they marveled at the broken splendor surrounding them. As far as the light from the sphere could stretch, tall remnants of massive buildings and statuary stood. They still had a pride about them regardless of being broken and resting under the sea for tens of thousands of years. All three men stared in awe.

“Gentlemen, I think we have just found what we were looking for.” Simon said, finding his voice first. “God help us all.”

“Are all of you so dramatic too?” Dictionary asked, his voice irritated.

“Only the smart ones.” Simon answered, his fingers twitching.

“What’s got you so spooked? Besides being crazy, I mean.” Eric asked.

“This place is familiar to me. What has been, will be. What will be? Has been.” Simon’s eyes were far away, his voice dreamy.

“What the hell does that mean?” Dictionary demanded.

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be a nearly-mad scientist.”

“Let’s take a look around.” Eric said and the sphere rose off the platform. “See what we can see.”

They traveled through the ruins for an unknown period of time, though it felt like either eternity or a moment. None of them could decide which. Everywhere they looked, every moment that passed, every time they turned their heads, they saw marvels and wonders.

Non-Euclidian geometry, shattered machines of unimaginable science, and relics so holy, they still burned with the power of whatever unnamable Gods they represented, and all of it was too much for them to handle. They couldn’t make out any details because there were too many details. They couldn’t form any memories because it was too memorable.

Eric realized some sort of fate had been present at Freelancers. He had found two, rare, people who could have passed through this gauntlet. Dictionary Jones remembered everything and therefore, had a mind able to compartmentalize even something as overpowering as this. Simon Le’Chance was already nearly-mad and had lived in eternity for a moment, a spectacle like this was chump change compared to being infinite.

In fact, both of them seemed to be enjoying themselves. Dictionary was blinking rapidly, a slight grin on his face. This was something new. This was what he had been craving, an experience. Simon was laughing giddily and clapping his hands like a small child watching a juggler. This was his version of a roller coaster ride.

Eric had little trouble focusing in the maddening maze. As an adept in Sumerian magick, he had little trouble narrowing his focus. Instead of swimming through a sea of madness, his mental training allowed him to just see bits and pieces, just enough to see what mattered. Here, a statue singing to them as they floated past, a forlorn song of longing and desire, a siren’s call. There, a massive plant growing out of a building with far too many angles and none of them sane, the tendrils lazily waving at them as they passed.

“Pretty plant!” Simon danced gleefully “Stop and smell the flowers.”

“It’s wonderful.” Dictionary gasped. “Is this what it’s always like? Being an adventurer?”

The fronds lashed out and wrapped around the bubble. They all tumbled to the floor or slammed into the walls as the plant arrested their motion. More tendrils surged out and swallowed them up completely. Slowly, the sphere begin being pulled into the ruins.

“Yes, it’s exactly like this all the time.” Eric snapped and pulled himself upright. He grabbed up his ever-present grimoire and flipped it open. “Feel free to jump in anytime you feel like it, guys.”

“Well, if it helps any, seaweed doesn’t like weed-killer.” Dictionary supplied.

“Oops, I accidentally forgot my weed-killer because we are under the ocean.” Eric snarled.

“How about baking soda then?”

“I have these.” Simon said, holding up a half-eaten roll of antacids. “I get heartburn from spicy food.”

“Why did I even bring you guys along? You two are no help at all.” Eric said, exasperated. His fingers finally finished flipping through his mystic tome and he immediately began reading. He snapped the Words out and the fronds let go of the sphere and shrank away. The water around the sphere was milky. Eric had changed it into liquid sodium bicarbonate.

“Naughty plant.” Simon said, sticking his tongue out as the sphere sped away.

“Are we going to just wander aimlessly, or are we headed somewhere in particular?” Dictionary pressed after a few more minutes.

“Well, now that you ask, I haven’t been steering us since the beginning.” Eric answered sheepishly.

“Wait. Are you saying you have no idea where we are? That this thing is driving itself?” Jones demanded.

“No, something is guiding it. I felt it was better to let it draw us in than waste time trying to find it.” Eric replied.

“We’re going exactly where we are supposed to go.” Simon said cryptically.

“How do you even know that? How does he even know that? Am I the only one worried about doing what the nearly-mad scientist says to do?” he argued.

“I’m not worried because, in this case, he is right. Look.” Eric said, pointing.

They had just came around the corner of a particularly overwhelming building covered in barnacle-like creatures that stared hungrily at them as they drifted past. Ahead, the ruined city marched downhill until it reached the base of a plateau. On top, a giant dome sparkled in the gloom. Inside the dome, a city stood as proud as it had in an age long past.



****

The sphere dissolved as it entered the dome, dropping its passengers onto the smooth, cold stone. With as much dignity as they could muster, the three stood and drank in their surroundings. They stood in a city unimaginable; Mu, in all its glory, still as new and pristine as the day it sank beneath the waves. This was the center of the greatest city in the history of humanity, known only as the Plateau.

Dictionary Jones noticed the hooded figure gliding towards them first. He signaled the others and they all turned to stare. As the figure grew closer, it grew larger and more menacing with each step until it towered above them. It crashed to a halt in front of them, as hooded figures are wont to crash. A thunderous voice washed over the three.

“I am the Caretaker. Know you have come upon sacred ground, ground where the Gods themselves knelt before man. Know you have entered into the realm where machines changed the universe. Know you have trespassed upon the greatest ritual in the history of humanity. Know you have found Mu, may the Gods have mercy on your souls.”

“Don’t mind him. He does this every time. I think he likes it.” Simon said unconcerned.

“Can you really blame me? Do you know how rarely I get to show off for visitors anymore?” the Caretaker said, his voice and size suddenly normal. “Don’t I know you? You seem really familiar.”

“This isn’t my first time at the end of the world.” Simon said.

“Oh, I know who you are. Try not to break anything this time.” The Caretaker said angrily.

“I make no promises.”

“What did you do this time, Simon? I just knew bringing him along would be a bad idea.” Dictionary lamented.

“It wasn’t my fault. Any of the times.”

“Oh, this is totally your fault but that is neither here nor there. What has been, will be.” The Caretaker intoned.

“What will be? Has been.” Simon finished.

“What does that even mean?” Dictionary demanded.

“It means we are all here now. What has been foretold will come to pass. What has happened so many times before, shall happen again. What will happen shall be remembered.” Simon explained. “I wonder what will happen this time?” You never know how it will all turn out, y’know. Not even tall, dark, and needs to wash his hooded robe over there knows. Nobody knows and that’s what makes it so very much fun!”

“You have a very weird sense of fun, Simon Le’Chance.” The Caretaker intoned.

“You haven’t seen anything yet!” he cried as he twisted an ornate dial on his belt buckle. Reality seemed to freeze and then swirl around him, like stirring molasses. There was a warbling in the air, a shimmer like heat rising from a blacktop, like dropping a rock into a lake and suddenly Simon Le’Chance was gone. In his place was Simon Le’Chance.

He stood jauntily, his posture showing his roguish nature. He wore tattered yet sturdy khaki’s, a battered hat, and worn boots. His chest was bare, only suspenders and a loose vest covering it. In his left hand, he held an uncoiled bull whip; in his right, a vintage .45 caliber wheelgun.

“Simon Le’Chance, treasure hunter! At your service!” he said, his stubble-covered cheeks widening into a grin.

“Oh, damn. Not him. Why couldn’t you have gotten somebody else? We’re all screwed.” The Caretaker moaned. “You know what? I don’t even care but I will be damned if I introduce you to my sister this time. I’m not dealing with that emotional trainwreck again.”

“Can we get back to business?” Eric asked.

“Sorry. So, what are you here for?” he waved his hand and an image of a towering spire appeared. Droplets of Stygian blue liquid fell from its zenith only to crystalize on the way down and shatter at the base, the shards melting into liquid like ice on a hot day. “The Tears of the Dying God? One drop can heal the ailments of millions, two drops can kill every living thing on the planet?”

“That’s not really…” Eric began.

“Not interested? Not your style? Well perhaps this?” he waved his other hand and an image of vast machine appeared. It had more moving parts than a mortal could count in three lifetimes. It had gears the size of cities, pistons the height of mountains. Rare metals sparkled on it, metals mined to extinction to create its thundering, churning, mechanical madness. “The Irreality Matrix?” Able to create universes, or destroy them?”

“No, we…” Dictionary said.

“Oh! Tough customers, huh? Here for something specific I see! I have just the thing.” An image wavered into existence and they could see vast plain covered in intricate markings. Complex machines and dread statutes stood in a pattern, power radiating from them. “I present the Pentacle of Eternity! With its power, a single word can bend the world to a whim, change history with a wink, shatter the Heavens with a snap of your fingers!”

“None of those are what we are here for!” Eric exclaimed.

“Well, there is no reason to be snippy about it. I am just trying to do my job here, sir.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I overreacted a bit.” Eric said apologetically.

“I would say so, sir. Now. What is it you are here for? Whatever you want, we aim to please in Mu.”

“The Soul of the Kraken.”

“That’s going to be a problem.” The Caretaker said with a frown.

“Tell me something I don’t already know.” Dictionary said wistfully. “This whole trip has been one big problem.”

“The more problems there are, the more interesting the story will be.” Simon said. “And there is nothing that will drop panties faster than an interesting story!”

“That’s sexist!” Dictionary exclaimed. “And exactly right. Bring on the problems!”

“Knock it off. Why is it a problem?” Eric demanded.

“Because I just sent two other adventurers after the Soul about half an hour ago.”

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?” Eric thundered.

“Here at Mu, we value our customer’s confidentiality. If we didn’t, the world would know the Beowulf was a drunk and Gilgamesh was the most lecherous person I have ever seen. No, we are very private about our clients. In fact, forget I said anything at all.” The Caretaker said quickly. “So, how is the weather topside? Sunny? I miss sunny days. We can make one here but it’s just not the same, y’know. With the burning the planet up and all that, it’s just not worth the effort.”

“Don’t try to snowball me, Caretaker. Tell us about these other two adventurers.”

“Oh, fine. What’s life without a bit of gossip?” he said and waved his hand again. An image appeared of a young girl walking. She carried a multicolored lollipop that she periodically took huge licks from. She wore an old fashioned dress, white hose, and shiny black shoes. Her hair was golden curls and her cheeks were rosy. Around her capered monsters and demons, creatures of pure hate and fear, ghostly forms of the worst the mind could imagine.

“Oh my Gods, Little Suzie Nightmare.” Dictionary croaked.

“Who the hell is Little Suzie Nightmare?” Eric asked.

“More accurately, what is Little Suzie Nightmare? Nobody is sure is she was ever even a little girl at all. All anybody knows is that she isn’t one now. She is a hollow shell, a finger puppet for something much larger and much nastier. People say she is an extension of the Elder.” Dictionary recited from memory. “She can pull the nightmares out of the deepest pits of your mind and make them flesh. You could hit her with a truck and she would giggle insanely at you.”

“I knew there was something scary about her but she was nothing compared to the other one.” The Caretaker said and the vision continued. Suzie walked out of sight and another figure walked in. She was tall, slender like a model. She had blonde hair that shimmered in the light as she walked and a face that would make a Vogue editor gasp in delight. She wore a light summer dress and walked as if she were in her own personal spotlight.

“Felicia.” Eric said.

“Oh, you know her?” The Caretaker asked.

“More than knows her, if you know what I mean.” Dictionary interjected. “Felicia Cleft, better known as the Hollow Woman or the Woman-With-the-Hole-in-Her-Soul, and one Mr. Eric Reader used to be quite the item. The hot ticket. The couple with everything going for them. Then, one day, Felicia left Eric never to be seen again.

“Sometimes, you know too much for your own good Jones.” Eric said grimly. “But you aren’t always right. I saw Felicia recently. Had some trouble with a Watcher in the Walls of the World. She showed up and, as usual havoc ensued.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Jones grinned.

“So, Caretaker, care to point us in the right direction? We are already half an hour behind our competitors.” Eric said.

“That-a-way.” He answered, pointing at a menacing and dangerous looking cave mouth that Eric would have sworn wasn’t there a moment before. It seemed to stare at them, as if hungry. “Into the belly of the beast. Did you expect anything else?”


****