The Dream Map

The Dream Map

by Jason Luthor

Published by Jason Luthor at Smashwords 2014

Cover Art Copyright 2014 Jason Luthor

Copyright 2014 Jason Luthor

Table of Contents

Chapter One

There’s Another World Out There

Chapter Two

Steel and Bone, Fangs and Blades

Chapter Three

The Curve of Reality

Chapter Four

Back in Hot Waters

Chapter Five

Pirates of the Kappanian

Chapter Six

Washed Away

Chapter Seven

At the Edge of the World

Chapter Eight

Where the Souls of Men Go

Chapter Nine

Shadows of History

Chapter Ten

A Return to Danger

Chapter Eleven

Meetings and Fireworks

Chapter Twelve

The Battle of Desolation

Chapter Thirteen

From Magic to Miracles

Chapter Fourteen

At the End of All Things

Chapter One

There’s Another World Out There

I'm looking for maps of worlds that don't exist.

The firm voice emerged from a halo of light that illuminated the bookstore. Behind it came a tall man, dressed in black upon black upon black, standing tall in the light’s shimmer. His gray hair and the tense lines in his features betrayed his age, while his strong frame was cut within an elegant three piece suit. The crystalline face of his watch cast the glow of light upon the even older book store owner who sat, hunched over a stack of papers, at a desk whose surface was marked like a battlefield. The bookstore owner grinned, a toothy smile that sat beneath a large nose and rimmed glasses.

A map of whose-what-now? Places that don’t exist? He cackled, the tip of his tongue licking across his upper lip. Might be that you’re looking for the wrong thing in the wrong place. Of course, judging by that fancy gizmo on your wrist, you could probably find whatever you need in one of those big departments stores back in the city.

The gentleman returned a smile at the comment, tilting his head slightly as he looked around the room. I’m a man of means of course, but small towns have a way of surprising you. Everywhere you turn there is a diamond in the rough and, besides, what I am seeking is unusual. Truth to be told, I rarely find what I am looking for and I can almost guarantee that the maps I want won’t be found in any mall.

A seeker of the unusual and the bizarre, you say. Plenty of that nonsense on the internet these days. The old man chuckled as his wooden, gnarled fingers pushed aside his papers. Okay stranger, I tell you what. You want to ask about nonsense, but you’ll get the best un-nonsense I can give. I've got plenty of maps, he said with a flourish toward the magazine rack near store’s entrance. Of course, they're all real maps, of the only world we've got. If you’re looking for something a little more local, well, we’ve got maps of the city too.

I can most assuredly say I know Dallas well enough. No, what I need are maps of places never witnessed by man. He hesitated, pausing, his fingers resting lightly on the desk. You must know what I speak of. Fantasy maps, the sort you used to find in books. However, they have to be as detailed as possible, lovingly crafted and with the ability to grab your soul. What I need are maps, so close to real, that a man could imagine himself making a journey to the impossible world he was looking at.

That’s an unusual request. I’d say you have your head in the clouds, but I sell books for a living, so I’m likely right there with you. But what I’d guess you’re looking for is something handmade, or close to it. Well, I’ll tell you, you’re right. Those sorts of maps used to be big sellers in the old days.

The shopkeeper nodded, his mischievous eyes drifting to a door at the far back of the reading room. I don’t exactly like to disappoint, but I've got nothing hand drawn. What I do have might tickle your fancy though, and hopefully your wallet. Now, it’s been a few years since I had to tackle this particular stack of boxes, but I'm sure I've got some maps lying around in the back. Mind you, they're from decades ago, but they’re beauties. His smile grew now, his body shaking as he pushed himself off the stool, his light feet slapping the wooden panels beneath. Now you’ve got me excited as a dodo! he cried out as he moved beyond the desk, pulling alongside the stranger. They made an odd pair, the first short and lively, like a quivering bundle of sticks, shaking at the side of a still statue. I'll go fetch them if you'll take a few seconds to stick around.

The well dressed stranger almost laughed, watching as the elderly man raced away, zipping between bookshelves like a racecar and vanishing into the warehouse. The edges of the stranger's lips curled upward into a smile while his eyes moved to his watch, glancing at the second hand as it ticked away the time. I'm not going anywhere, my friend. I've got all the time in the world.

Maximus Douglas, all of seventeen, wandered down a sidewalk in Waxahachie, Texas. By all observations, his hair was identical to a mop: tossed, shaggy, and barely combed. His head hung low as he counted the cracks beneath his feet, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket and his fingers fumbling with trinkets such as thimbles, trading cards and coins. He had a mild collector’s obsession, an odd hobby, but he was an odd boy in a small town. There was nothing in Waxahachie that interested him much. The big city lights of Dallas beckoned in the north, and beyond Dallas were the great cities like New York and Los Angeles. He’d never been beyond Dallas though, and often resorted to dreaming up an escape from his small town life. If there was a middle of nowhere, his town existed in it.

It simply wasn’t an ideal place for a boy that loved to daydream so much. He was either found with his nose glued between the pages of a book, or with his hands scribbling into his greatest treasure: a journal that he kept perpetually stuffed inside the inner pocket of his jacket. Whenever he jotted a single word within it, he shielded the book from view with his arm, guarding it from sight as if he were scribbling some arcane secret. His days were so preoccupied with his writing that he spent little time on extracurricular activities, though he did like to explore the outdoors with his archeology club. With his love of odd trinkets, it was no surprise that he enjoyed going out to comb the earth for signs of arrowheads and spear tips. Occasionally the group would head out onto the dry riverbeds around town, breaking up the solid Texas soil to see what they could find. His greatest discovery, an arrowhead, sat on a string around his neck. In all his life, its discovery remained one of the few happy memories he had of being outdoors.

The archeology club was where he’d met Heidi, a fellow dreamer and thinker, though she was by far a better student. Max filled his fantasies, and she filled hers with science. Heidi was famous for her string of perfect test scores and academic awards, the sorts of things Max never qualified for. He preferred to work on his stories, though he guarded them carefully. On just a single occasion he’d let her see inside of his notebook, when he'd finally felt he could trust her. It had only taken a few minutes, and she'd had nothing but good to say, but Max absolutely did not receive criticism easily. Even positive compliments made his stomach turn into knots. He'd quickly tucked it away, his cheeks ruby red. .Every minute she'd held it had been another moment he'd been unable to breathe, his anxiety piling up inside his chest as the seconds ticked by.

Truthfully, while she enjoyed Max’s stories and good books in general, Heidi preferred a pursuit of science. Her father was a physicist, her mother a mechanic, and Heidi herself had grown into a mathematically brilliant Ms. Fix-It. She could repair just about anything, mechanical or electronic, and made the ultimate lab partner at school. She was actually Max’s tutor, but the latest test results, which had come in that afternoon, had not been as good as they’d hoped. It was a disappointment to both of them, but far worse was the incident that followed. Max did not have a good relationship with most of his classmates, many of who saw him as odd. He wasn't an athletic jock, not by far. He got winded just going up the steps to class, and while he was energetic, he was no good at sports. Footballs and basketballs seemed to have a love affair with hitting him across the head, and he didn't have the reflexes necessary to deflect their affections. So, in many ways, he felt at odds with the most popular members of his class. Both the young men that played sports and the pretty girls that cheered from the sidelines were as familiar as people from foreign countries to Max.

The insults started early after class, as they’d teased him about his grades. At first he’d brushed it off, soaking up the comments and brewing inside, a small storm raging in his gut. He might not have studied enough to do well, but he was smart and had a snappy mouth, which combined with a wit that got him into trouble from time to time. As he’d lingered outside in the hallway, face buried in his locker, Max truly had done his best to brush off all the mockery. That was the moment when Heidi had jumped to his defense, which had only led to the crowd turning on her, insulting her glasses, her style of clothes and her sometimes obsessive interest in science fiction. Now, Max tolerated a lot of things, and had learned over the years to keep his mouth shut. He had very few friends though, and was incredibly protective of those he had. In all of Waxahachie, Heidi was the only person he confided in. In many ways, it was worse to insult her than it was to insult him and, try as hard as he could, he hadn’t been able to keep from mouthing off. As he remembered the situation, recalling the look of shock on the faces of those around him, he couldn’t hold back his smile.

His smile broke down into a laugh as he rubbed at his throbbing jaw and squeezed his sore muscles. Again, he wasn’t much of a jock, and being scrappy didn’t mean much when you were fighting off four or five guys. He wasn’t even sure who had thrown the first punch or which of them had thrown him to the floor. What Max did remember was struggling under their weight, thinking his mouth had gotten him into trouble again, and then the rush of teachers as they’d pried the crowd apart. The trip home hadn’t been pleasant, and his parents had been doubly angry, first about the grades and then about the fight.

If there were any people in all the world that frustrated Max more than his parents, he didn’t know who they were. He’d only been able to take so much before he’d left for the local bookstore, where he planned to lose himself for hours in the comfy reclining chair, a book in his lap and the warm light of the lamps glowing against the rich red wooden walls. At that moment, as he caught sight of the bookstore, the only thing he wanted to do was to disappear into a story.

The familiar jingle of the bells brought a smile to his face as he stepped inside the store, his nose sniffing at the smell of leather book covers and aging paper. He loved the scent, but also loved the sensation of paper pages crinkling in his hands as he flipped through them. His eyes were already on the rear of the store, though he took a second to exchange waves with the old shop keeper, Mr. Eco, as he walked toward the back shelves. Wooden boards groaned under his weight as he walked among the fantasy and sci-fi novels, his eyes dancing from cover to cover. He quickly became lost in his search, so focused that he barely noticed the doorbell sounding once more behind him. The bookstore was typically empty on a midweek afternoon, and Max was usually the only weekly regular, so he didn’t notice the jingling at first. It took a few minutes before he caught sight of someone in the corner of his eye. The man was tall, clad all in black but distinguished by his wave of grey hair and his noticeably expensive clothes. Max didn’t like to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t he couldn't help but catch the faint words floating from the front of the store.

I'm looking for maps of worlds that don't exist.

Max's nose wrinkled at the statement, his lip curling at the words. What the heck does that mean, he asked himself quietly, his face turning to observe the strange gentleman. Mr. Eco was just turning the corner of the desk, quickly vanishing through the storeroom door. Max had never been through there, but in his mind he imagined himself stepping into a mammoth warehouse that was filled with towers of novels that scraped the rooftop like fingertips. While his head swam with images of a city made of books, his eyes remained focused on the stranger before him, his legs taking him forward by a life of their own. He almost couldn’t stop himself from shuffling forward, still cycling the man's words in his head. The older man gave him a curious look as he stumbled forward.

I normally do not expect surprise company, young man. Can I help you? The stranger's voice lifted and hinted at an accent that Max couldn't pin, but it was distinguished and resonated with authority.

Well, I mean. I dunno’. Maybe? I was just over there and I couldn’t help overhearing you saying something about worlds that don’t exist. Not that I was trying to spy on you or anything, it’s just that I couldn’t stop myself.

You mean you were eavesdropping, he said plainly.

Honestly, it was an accident, and I’m as surprised as you are actually. If you gave me a dollar for every time I was told I don’t pay enough attention, well, I’d probably have enough money to buy my books instead of having to read all of them inside the store.

I did not realize we were about to debate your attention span, considering that the issue at hand is you listening in on my conversation. If that was an accident, then I suppose I could quite easily pass off anything as an accident. What would happen if I suddenly took something off this desk, or from the shelves? What if I told you then that I simply could not control my hands?

Hey man, you don’t have to be rude. I mean, I’m a lot of things. Bad at school. A really bad athlete. I’m not a liar though.

The man huffed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Fine. It is fine. I apologize if I am being unnecessarily rude. What is it I can help you with?

I just... I don’t know. I want to know what you meant by worlds that don’t exist. It doesn’t make any sense.

It does not make any sense? He echoed Max's words as his eyes continued to burn into the young man, his eyebrow sharply cocked upward, his fingers brushing at his goatee for a moment. Well I suppose that starts with a story. I have a particular talent, young man, in fact a skill that few others do. I am a scientist you see, and my particular area of research has to do with travel. Few people know of it, because it is incredibly secret and quite under wraps. If I am successful, though, then there will come a day when the worlds you read of in books will no longer be dreams. His finger stretched toward the back reading room. All that you can imagine exists, somewhere, in reality. Now, it may not exist in this particular world, this universe, but it certainly does in another.

Come on. You’re really going to tell me there’s another universe?

More than one. Perhaps tens, or thousands. At least, that is the theory, and in each one of these universes reality is slightly different. His lips curled slightly beneath his moustache. Let me ask you something, young man. What do you think of wizards?

Max thought on the question for a moment. Well that would really depend on the wizard right? I mean, is this guy trying to turn me into a frog or something? Or is he giving me some potion that will help me kill a dragon?

I suppose that is as good an answer as any, but what if I told you they are real?

Come on, he laughed. Stop messing with me. I mean, it’d be cool if they were. I always wanted to think they really exist somewhere with knights and magic and stuff. It sounds crazy. Then again, I am spending my afternoon in the fantasy section of a bookstore.

Indeed you are, which leads me to my next few questions. I shall prick your mind a bit. What if I said there are people that can fly, cities that exist underwater and creatures that fly through space? What if I told you there are places where people live in homes created from walking trees, and ships that fly through the clouds? Indeed, what if I told you that everything and anything is possible? If you have thought it, then it exists, somewhere. Then sign me up because that’d be pretty awesome. My friend Heidi would say you’ve got to prove this stuff though. Sure she’s almost blown off my hand a few times with her experiments, but I normally trust her with this sort of thing. If she were here she’d be saying you need to prove all this.

Your friend is, indeed, correct. As far as proof, there's none yet, but we'll have it one day.

One day, huh? I’m not trying to be rude, and it does sound cool, but that’s pretty bad science. Right?

The stranger's face turned from slight displeasure to full annoyance. "I may not be a good scientist, but if you are like me, then you enjoy the thought of something... more, out there. He stopped, eyes locking with Max's. For a long moment he didn't break his gaze, and Max found himself suddenly terrified, shaking and yet unable to break away from their locked eyes. A cold shiver danced down his spine as he swallowed hard, a lump swelling in his throat as the man’s look held him, the boy unable to comprehend why he couldn't break away. For a second, thousands of images flashed through Max’s head. There were strange animals, floating mountains, scurrying goblins, underground cities, and glowing crystals, each of them popping into his head for only a split second. Finally the stranger reared back, head darting aside as he rubbed at his brow. Max stumbled backwards as their gaze broke. The man quickly turned back to face the boy, his eyes taking on an entirely new character, with none of the hypnotic qualities they'd possessed just an instant before. In the windows of our soul, our imaginations, we can go places we cannot in this monotonous reality we call our lives. I enjoy books, stories and maps. These are things that take my mind to other places. They are also what keep me believing in my goal. A smile crossed his lips, that thin moustache of his lifting as he did. I would encourage you to keep dreaming, young man. That is all you have to get by in this harsh world of ours. Even if I was wrong and this was the only reality we had, your imagination can take you places your feet never could, when life is boring or harsh. It is good not to forget that."

Max was about to respond when the sound of a door shutting caught his ears, the old shop keeper returning with a stack of lengthy parchments bundled up in his arms. They watched as the old man scurried along, back to his post at the front desk, arms dumping the documents onto its surface. There we go! the old man said with a grin, the papers, all rolled up with ribbon, rolling along for a moment. All the maps I could find that I thought you might fancy.

Thank you sir, the stranger returned, looking to have none of the intensity he’d possessed just a moment before. I shall take them all. And... he turned to look at Max for a second, a glimmer in his eye. I will pay in advance for any two paperback books this good boy would like to have.

The owner rapped the desk. Well what do you know, Max. It seems like you came in on the right day.

Yeah, I guess, Max replied, hesitant, his voice still quiet. Uh, thanks, sir.

Think nothing of it, the man said as he tipped his fingers toward the boy, eyes gesturing to the rear. Now, go pick out two books before I start to rethink my offer.

Max nodded as he stepped away, his feet pulling him into the back of the store. The gentleman motioned to him one last time.

And like I said, young man? Always keep dreaming.

Sure, you’ve got it, he barely managed as he shuffled away. Max rolled his shoulders as he tried to shake off the cold that had fallen upon him, like ice thrown down the back of his shirt, his body still tingling as he went back to scouring the counters. His eyes kept darting over to the stranger, glancing back every few seconds until he finally saw the man walk away from the counter, allowing Max to focus once more on the books before him. Yet he stared at nothing in particular, his memory lingering on the stranger's words. Maps of worlds that don't exist.

Heidi Trevino, Max's best friend, was perpetually dressed in a button down white shirt and jeans, her dirty blonde and brown hair tied back in a braid. Given all the work she did with her hands, it was no wonder that her fingers were always wrapped in orange work gloves that she took off only on rare occasion, while her face was coupled to glasses at almost all times. Seated alongside Max in the back of her father's car, which sped along on the streets near downtown Dallas, they made for quite the odd couple. It was a positively boring drive and one that had her eyes opening and closing as she tried to blink her sleepiness away.

This must be the absolutely longest drive we could possibly be taking, dad, she said with a yawn while her fingers squeezed the back of her father’s seat. So how long until we get there? I'm excited to see this project you've been talking about.

And I'm excited to show it off to you, her father, Manuel, tossed back, grinning at her through the rearview mirror. He was a quivering twig of a man with a bulbous nose too large for his face and a jittery voice that was always too excited. It's really amazing, the whole reason I ever wanted to become a scientist in the first place. I’ve always said you have to be creative to be good at science. If you don’t dream big, you don’t get anything done. How do you think we put a man on the moon?

Max's lip jutted out a bit as he listened in. I guess. I mean, whenever I have new ideas for my stories I get pretty psyched, so that sounds kinda’ the same.

Right, you’ve got to have passion for what you love. Soon we’ll have a new form of energy that will let us power homes and airplanes and ships. It might even apply to space travel if we can get it all working.

Heidi's eyebrow arched. I know I’m throwing water on your fire, dad, it’s just…

I know, I know, I have a habit of getting too excited about stupid things. I'm telling you though, this is it, a clean form of energy without any waste production that's not reliant on the sun. It exists between the smallest parts of the universe. If we can just harness it, it's going to mean a new era in energy production.

You’re aware that you’ve talked about this before. I get that you’ve worked on this for a long time, but this isn’t a chemistry set in a high school lab. It’s incredibly complicated, and I’m just curious if it will work out this time.

Well, I wouldn't be bringing you along if I didn't think this was going to be the day we had our breakthrough. That's how confident I am. In fact, the whole department is so sure that today's the day that we've got company bosses coming to observe the results of the test. President Geoff has been working very closely with us on this version of the project.

Max leaned forward slightly, his forehead propped on the back of the seat. Wait. What? The president of your company works on these things too?

That's right he does. He’s a genius, a masterful scientist. He was one a long time before he started the company. The whole theory behind the project is his, actually. We're all sort of just working on his dream.

Heidi adjusted her glasses, pushing them up her nose. I never mean to doubt you. You know I’m hoping it will work.

Never doubt, my dear!

They drove into the heart of Dallas, passing beneath the shadow of a massive, ivory skyscraper. At its pinnacle, the tower bore a gigantic S within the symbol of an atom, its intimidating frame surrounded by distant security posts that watched the wire fence surrounding the building. The company’s delicate research required tight security, and a hundred eyes observed them as they parked in the nearby garage. Max and the others collected a few things before moving through the sliding glass doors of the tower, the front desk manned by a few receptionists. Large televisions silently demonstrated several products in the background, their looming LCD screens casting a mixture of hues onto the polished white tile floor. People in business suits walked along, left and right, on their way to destinations unknown. Max stuck close to Heidi and her father as they guided him into the maze, zigzagging between endlessly identical hallways until they emerged into a circular white room.

Only the rare few could expect to enter this place and now, after yet another swipe of a security card, the trio boarded the single elevator at the room’s center. Everything inside was the same sterile white, whiter than the white he’d seen in hospital hallways. They made small talk as they were taken upward, the floor numbers announced in a series of rings as the lift rose with silent smoothness. He could barely tell they were moving at all. Then, suddenly, a final ring erupted before the doors slid open.