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                   The Otherworld <> Chapter 3
                           Casus Belli
                         Copyright 1992
                           Bryce Koike
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-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- 
     Any comments, criticisms, opinions, etc, are welcome.  I can
be reached on Internet as:
     bkoike@sdcc13.ucsd.edu or mage@netlink.cts.com
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"In the howling wind comes a stinging rain
See it driving nails into souls on the tree of pain
From the firefly, a red orange glow
See the face of fear running scared in the valley below"
                              ("Bullet the Blue Sky" -- U2)
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
The Eternals
    The Eternals are an ancient race (from their records, their race
has been sentient for many, many times longer than our own).  They
never truly invested great time in technology due to magic.  The
Emporers of the Eternals' home reality decreed that certain species
of their race to be interbred to create certain groups of Eternals,
each with their own very specific "use."
    The size of the Eternals battlegroup is unknown, but their
numbers are horribly large.  A small contingent being returned to
the Eternals' home reality were diverted by a Quunan Mur ROX
malfunction and scattered across Otherworld.
    Many were found drowned on the seas.  Apparently the rift
created by the ROX disaster did not discriminate in its mistake
between land or sea.  Large groups of Eternals found themselves in
both northern and southern California, Florida, Maine, the Midwest,
Washington, and Canada.  Smaller groups (ranging anywhere from 5 to
750) were scattered across both Amercan continents.  Larger Eternal
groups were scattered about France and Germany.  Several groups have
adapted readily to the weather of Northern Russia and grow with
little worry of threat.  India and Africa have also received large
Eternals groups.
    While initially disoriented, the Eternals were rapid adapters to
their environment.  They are unfamiliar with technology, but their
first encounter with the Quunan Mur have taught them respect and
awe.  And the Eternals are rarely alone.  Throughout history they
have forged alliances with similarly-aligned races to share skills,
technology, and magic.  It is certain that their stay on Otherworld
will prove to be no different.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Date:      September 7, 1992
Location:  Stockton, California
           Otherworld
Time:      2:00 am

    A hand in the distance clawed at the sky and fell to pieces on
the sea.  Torn apart.  Lost.  Faces in front of him swirled and
chanted, screamed at him.  Matt whirled.
    "What are you saying?!" he cried, but his voice was struck down
by the wind.  His legs buckled and he collapsed to the ground,
feeling the words beat on him.
    Helpless to stop them, he screamed, feeling the oceans rise up
and fall on top of him.  He held his breath but soon his lungs were
bursting with fire.  Matt opened his mouth to take the last breath
of his life --

    -- and awoke with sweat damp on his body and the stars of the
night looking down at him with their cold neutrality.  Disoriented
for a moment he laid there, listening to the even breathing of his
two companions.  His own breathing was ragged and pained.  As his
body relaxed Matt felt the aching pain in his strained limbs, the
joy of release, the knowledge that the dream was not true.
    "Again," he whispered.  "Damn."  The dreams had been pelting him
for days.  Some were nightmares, but others were simply strange.
And the headaches . . . the headaches.
    Not wanting to think about any of it, he rolled over and tried
to go back to sleep.

    The Elder brought his hands above his head and a haze formed in
the air before him.  Continuing to chant he brought his hands at
waist level and raised his palms upward.  The haze slowly formed
into the cell which they were using to hold prisoners.  They were
high in Potential as well, which made the lord's mouth water.
    Even now Diplomat Ecee-Rushe and Potas-Trool were listening in
on their conversations and tapping the upper thoughts on their
minds.  As with similar manling species it seemed that the ones who
ruled this world were dual-sexed.  In this case, it was the male
member of the duo that was dominant.  The female, though, was far
more adept at pulling psychological strings.  Both could be
potentially dangerous.  And the selfishness and greed which ruled
the manling species!  What a lovely weakness to play on!  More
important, though, was the learning of their language and their
world.
    "Human," practiced the lord, attempting to mimic the manling
tongue known as English.  So many languages this species possessed!
And even so these two knew only one.  Incompetant, to say the least.
    Objects which had been determined to be food were thrown in
their temporary cell.  None of the Eternals had the desire to be
handmaids to the like of manlings!  And such terribly short
lifespans!
    Diplomat Ecee-Rushe presented himself at the doorway to the
worship room and gave a flourishing bow, his feelers and antennae
taut at attention.  The lord bid him to enter.
    In the eloquent lord's speech, the Diplomat said, "Eternal Lord,
we have gleaned much knowledge of this world and have learned more
by it.  Our prisoners are but wolflings, unattentive members of
their parent species.  They are a disorganized race split into
numerous factions that oppose each other in every turn.  But we have
learned something that is even more important, lord, something that
is of the utmost importance."
    "And that is?"
    "Lord, this is not the Earth of which they speak.  They have
come here through a rift just as we have!  We have come here, to
Otherworld, to the gateway to the realities!  Fabled by our
ancestors before their fall, this is Otherworld!"
    The lord crowed his joy in primal and cried out, "Send for
Advisor Sala!"
    After the unfortunate demise of advisors Tukas and Elias, the
Eternals had been grooming Sala in the role of advisor.  The link to
the Overmind had been flawed and Sala had spent a day in pain before
the Elders could rework the link.  Ecee-Rushe and Potas-Trool had
spoken to him strongly about avoiding using Sala before he was
ready, but the lord was impatient.  Sala had been in communication
with the Overmind for five days with no signs of linkage after
effects.  Certainly there was no need to wait!
    Sala entered through the doorway garbed in the elegant green
robes that separated the Mindovers from the others.  Mindovers,
those who dealt with the powers of the mind!  And from their number
sprang the Skulks, Diplomats, and the new Advisors, linked to the
Overmind.
    "Lord," Sala hissed.  "I have come at your bidding."
    The Eternal lord nodded and motioned for Sala to rise.  "Advisor
Sala, you have been groomed in the way of the Mindover.  We have
learned that we have made our way to the Otherworld."
    Sala nodded, crossed his bony arms, and bowed.  "This has been
revealed to me, lord."
    "Tell me of the Otherworld."
    Sala's eye slits narrowed as he went deep into the Overmind.
The Overmind was a collection of certain memories and knowledge of
the Eternals.  "Otherworld," intoned Sala, "is the crossroads to the
realities.  Where before we had to seek out junction points and
paths to realities, with Otherworld we can gain instant access to
any reality with considerably less difficulty than before."
    "What are its requirements in Presence?"
    "Half that which we are accustomed to.  You must be warned,
though, lord.  Otherworld, while making reality transference simple,
is a delicate thing.  It is to be treated gently, not with brute
force as we are accustomed to."
    "Hmm.  And how soon before we will have the Presence required to
break from this world?"
    "It will take time, lord.  The two we have in captivity must be
kept alive until we have gained their knowledge.  It may take years
before we will be able to breach the realities and transfer our
army."
    The lord growled.  "I like this not.  We must gain the Presence
required before others make their way here to conquer us!"
    Advisor Sala bowed.  He was thankful that the lord was not in an
excited state.  While advisors were supposed to be immune from
execution at the will of the lord, he was new and his worth may not
be weighed as heavily as that of Tukas and Elias.
    "I know, lord," he crooned, "but we must cultivate our patience
and thereby gain greater wisdom.  Otherworld is the shadow of the
Earth that is the true home to the manlings.  Before it shifts we
should make use of its resources."
    "Resources?"
    Sala smiled and bowed again.  "Great weapons of technology, my
lord," was his answer.
    The lord grinned and sat back in his makeshift throne.  His
cackle could be heard throughout the building.

    "It's killing me!" shrieked Matt as he clutched his skull.
The blood vessels pulsed against his neck as he moaned.  Tracy and
Vince looked at each other helplessly as Matt writhed on the ground.
    As quickly as it started, the pain was gone.  With a sob of
relief Matt fell limp, tears of pain streaking his face.  First the
headaches, then the dreams.  What next?  Matt wearily pushed himself
to his feet, his face pale and cold.
    "What's wrong with me?" he moaned.  A hand went to his head.
"What's happening to me?"
    Vince put his arms around him.  "It's going to be okay, man.
Don't worry.  Everything's going to be okay."  He turned and looked
at Tracy.  "You and me are going to have to take turns driving from
now on," he said.
    She nodded silently, then turned and sat on the car's bumper,
burying her own face in her hands.  "What now?" she thought.  Matt,
the one they had accepted as their leader, was going mad on them.
Vince was too irresponsible to lead.  Would the responsibility fall
on her shoulders?  She wanted it as much as Matt did.  Or was that
the source of his bad dreams and horrible headaches?
    Vince's hand rested itself on her shoulder.  "C'mon, let's take
a walk.  Matt wants to be alone for a bit," he told her.
    "Yeah, sure."

    They had taken a brief detour to visit Yosemite and that had
been fun, but Matt had been impatient to leave.  She didn't want to.
Amid the trees and the cold forest air she had felt a peace that she
had not felt previously cruising along dead highways and visiting
the deserted towns.  The forest was already getting the feel of the
fall and its fresh greenness was overwhelming.
    And yet Matt had wanted to leave.  He had no reason except for
his belief that they were wasting time, that somehow there were
important things for them to do, important things that could not
wait for later.  Stockton had been their destination, he said, and
gave no reasons.  Tracy did not think highly of his secrets.
    "So what do you think?" Vince asked.
    Tracy looked up and said, "Huh?  Sorry, I wasn't listening."
    "I said, what do you think.  Of Matt, I mean."
    "I don't know.  I don't know what to do."
    He nodded.  "Me neither.  He seems . . . driven, but I don't
know what his goals are.  Something makes him come back here and I
don't know what.  Oh, we're running low on gas.  Tracy?  Hey, you
listening to me?"
    "Vince," she hissed, her face pale.
    "Wha-?  Oh god!"
    A body lay on the street, obviously dead.  It had been torn open
at the belly, its organs shredded and spread across the sidewalk.
Vacant pits were all that was left of its eyes.  Even the body's
head had been shattered to reveal the brain.
    Tracy turned away and moaned, "God I feel sick."
    "Jesus, someone really did a job on this guy."
    "Vince, is it Chris?  Is that Chris?  Is that why Matt wanted to
come back here?"
    "No, that's not Chris.  Chris was blonde, remember?  This guy's
got brown hair.  That's sick."
    Vince approached the body.  "Hey, what's this?"
    "What?  What is it?  Oh god Vince, tell me, I don't want to
look!"
    Vince bent down and picked up a book that had been left in an
alley by the body.  It was relatively new.  "A diary," he said.  "I
think.  I think it's this guy's diary.  C'mon, we better tell Matt."
    "But-"
    "We've got to.  No secrets among us, Tracy."
    She didn't have the strength to bring up the fact that Matt had
his own secrets.

    "They're back and worse than ever," Matt said into the portable
dictator.  For some reason he'd been surprised to see it worked.
The damn thing needed batteries, though, and he didn't like the idea
of an unrenewable energy source.  But until he could figure out
another way of powering it, the AA batteries would have to make do.
The books he had taken from the local library had only proved
partially useful.  For all of his planning most were useless in his
hands.  Could he get an electrical power plant working?  Repair a
car?  The book on edible plants was interesting, but the thought of
digging up roots and eating dandelions wasn't his idea of cuisine.
Until the canned goods went bad and the packaged foods spoiled,
they'd survive on those.  Crop planting might work if they found
somewhere to settle down, but settling down was the last thing Matt
wanted to do.  He had to keep moving.
    "I thought that it might have just been stress at first and that
aspirin would take care of it, but it didn't.  I don't know what or
why it's happening.  I might be dying."
    He paused and took a drink from a reused bottle of Evian.
    "Or not.  Somehow I've become the accepted leader of our trio
and I don't like it.  I guess it was because I just wasn't as
shocked initially as everyone else.  Perhaps I've lived in fantasy
so long that when the fantasies came true I was disappointed at how
bland it all was.
    "I never wanted this job.  Already we've lost two members of our
group and who knows where they are.  Vince seems to have a good
grasp on what's going on, but he doesn't want to accept any of it.
Tracy's hiding under some sort of shell.  Sometimes she won't even
talk to me.  Was it something I said to her?  Lord.
    "I wish I was home.  I never thought I'd say this, but it's
true.  I want to go home.  I was never a leader and I was never good
at responsibility.  Hell, we nearly ran out of gas on our way back
from Yosemite.  Smart me."
    He paused the tape and looked around.  The streets, as usual,
were empty and yet he had a foreboding feeling that something was
there and it was watching him.  Was it Vince playing some practical
joke?
    "Something's really weird with this world," he said.  "And I
don't know what.  Whatever it is, I keep getting pulled back here.
Perhaps it's just my curiosity, but there's something about this
area that frightens me.  For the first time in my life I'm going to
face this fear and win it over.  Dammit, I've got to.  I'm can't let
myself be a little boy anymore."
    He let his voice trail off uselessly and stopped the tape.  The
feeling was gone.  Perhaps it was just his own paranoia about the
dreams and the headaches.  Two weeks of life with little if any
privacy was taking its toll on him.  And the dreams . . .
    "MATT!"
    Looking up Matt watched Vince and Tracy charging up the street
at him.  Tracy looked odd.  Was she sick?  Vince had a book in his
hand that he was waving.
    "Matt," he gasped.  "There's this guy down the street."
    "What?!  You left him there?  What the-"
    "He's DEAD!" screamed Tracy.  "He was killed!"
    Vince nodded.  "It was a really nasty sight, Matt.  We're
talking major sicko here.  I found this in the alley, though."  He
handed over the book.  "It's the guy's journal, I think."
    "I want to see the body," was the only thing Matt could say.
    Vince paled.  "What?  No, you don't want to see the body."
    "Tell me where it is, Vince.  You don't have to come with me."
This was it, Matt told himself.  Things were starting to fall in
place.  And that body would be a piece to the puzzle.
    "Uh, that's alright.  I'll come with you.  Tracy?"
    "No.  I'm not going back."
    Shrugging, Vince said, "Okay, it was over this way."
    Tracy shook her head as they left and wrapped her arms around
herself.  It was almost a vacation at first when the initial shock
had worn off.  They had the whole world to themselves to do as they
pleased with it.  Then Matt's dreams and the worsening headaches.
And the dead man.
    She shook her head.  This was all going wrong.  All wrong!

    "Major corpsicle, huh?" asked Vince.  "Gruesome."
    Matt took a step closer to the body and looked at it.  The
mutilation job was extremely thorough.  It wasn't like a dissection
or vivisection, though.  More like torture, perhaps.
    "Yes, Vince.  Whoever did this had a very sick mind.  That or no
respect for life at all.  Or both."
    Matt reminded himself that it did not have to be a human that
did this.  It could have been something else.  Aliens?
    Alarm!  Matt steeled himself for a coming headache but it did
not happen.  Instead it was a bell ringing in the back of his head
screaming for him to beware!  Matt's head shot up and his eyes
darted across the street.
    "What?" he said aloud.  "Where?"
    "Matt?"
    THERE!  Peering around the corner of a building.  Something.
Like a bipedal ant?  No, but similar.  It stared at him with no
emotion in its chitinous face.  "Hate," thought Matt.  "HATE YOU."
Angry at the violation of the dead man, at the violation of their
own planet, he broadcast it without understanding what he was truly
doing.
    The creature darted back behind cover and then any sense of its
presence was gone.
    Vince was shaking him.
    "Matt, Matt, you okay?  Hey, Matt!"
    "Let go of me," Matt said as he threw off Vince's hands.  "We
better get back to Tracy."
    "Matt, what's going on?"
    "Vince, NOW!"
    With a corpse at his feet Vince watched Matt charge down the
street with fear in his eyes.
    "Wait.  Wait for me!" Vince cried and took off after him.
Whatever it was that Matt saw or thought he saw had scared him bad.
Vince definitely did not want to be around to see if it'd come back.

    The lord continued to watch the prisoners.  How carefully they
covered their bodies, to tether them with absolute control.  A
species with little, if any, self-control or maturity.  Astonishing
that they had been able to forge such great empires and weapons!
    "What else have you learned, Ecee-Rushe?" asked the lord.
    The diplomat bowed.  "Lord, we have begun to learn about their
technology.  It is a complex thing, but we hope to gain access to
their weapons of death soon.  These are not military soldiers and as
such are unfamiliar with weaponry, but perhaps we will be able to
capture some military men.  If so, they will prove to be a great
treasurehouse of information."
    The lord nodded in pleasure.  "This is good," he said.  "What of
the other members of their party?"
    "They parted ways early along a path they call the Grapevine.
We are uncertain of its meaning at this moment.  They left their
companions with mixed feelings and it may be possible to turn them
against each other."
    "Let us plan, then.  Perhaps we will learn more of these people
if we can gain more of their number."
    At that moment an attendant rushed through the door and spoke in
primal to the diplomat.  Ecee-Rushe smiled.
    "We have found other manlings in our sphere of influence, lord!
By descriptions, these may be the others we seek!  Shall I send out
a war party to capture them?"
    "No!  Watch them, but make no moves against them!" cried the
lord.  "This Otherworld is a shadow of their own.  If we watch their
actions we can hope to learn more of this land.  Send a skulk to
watch.  Watch and learn!  I want to know what these wolflings will
do when they are not in captivity.  I want to know about their power
structure and the chain of command.  I must know of the
relationships between their people!"
    Ecee-Rushe bowed.  "Lord, it will be as you command."
    "And diplomat!"
    The Eternal looked up at his master.
    "Ecee-Rushe, you will stay out of my mind.  Even I, a battle
lord, has the right to slay you for such treason."
    "I understand, lord."
    "Then begone!"
    Chagrined, diplomat Ecee-Rushe hurried from the room with his
head deeply bowed in humiliation.

    "Chris," Jan whispered.  She crawled closer to him, ran a hand
through his hair.  "Chris, what do you think they're going to do to
us?"
    He slowly shook his head.  "I have no idea, Jan."  He wrapped
his arms around her and pulled her close as his own fear grew.  "I
have no idea."
    His mind wandered to Matt and the others.  Where were they now?
Oh, lord, Matt, if only you knew the danger!