SW10: November 2010 #2: Beyond the Door

Sat Jan 15 18:09:02 PST 2011

Beyond the Door. Commentator: Wyatt Ferguson.

---

28 October 2010: Kristi and I have made it past the Sunset Door, with help on 
the home end. We'd aimed to get to the capital twin city, QuÃ©bec-Warsaw St. 
Lawrence. But this probably isn't it.

As nearly as I could figure, we landed near Indianapolis. I grew up here. But 
its landscape was different. The lovely sunset we saw through the Sunset Door, 
was in a vacant lot I recognized. In my world, it was a hotel.

We came ready to camp if we had to. But I thought it wise to walk a mile into 
town: Speedway, Indiana. I grew up three miles west in Clermont, but we used to 
shop in Speedway all the time.

Speedway was different. I saw the old shopping center, but forest had started 
growing back. But still, one shop was open! It advertised real coffee and CDs. 
Hmm, I think CDs might be a new technology in this universe.

We went in. The shop had one customer, who looked about 80 years old. He looked 
up and said, "Wyatt Ferguson?"

And so we got help from a cop I used to know. He still lived in town, because 
dammit.

---

29 October 2010: We're waiting in Speedway, because my policeman friend says 
travel isn't safe. I'm inclined to believe him.

Kristi insisted I start sharing what I know about this world. Here it is.

In 1985 or so, the Soviets were launching a limited nuclear first strike,
and it was working. NATO couldn't get anything up in response! Only later
did they find out, their enemies were using demons instead of
nukes. Demons were able to neutralize science-based weapons and raise the
right sort of poisonous fireballs.

I found this out because I visited this world in 2003. By then, their North 
American civilization had been mostly reduced to survivalist magicians in 
QuÃ©bec. I figured I'd help... by indwelling a famous omniversal destroyer, 
sending it against a third Earth which I had a grudge against, and having it 
transplant Warsaw from that universe's Poland into Survivalist QuÃ©bec! Really.

I came back briefly in 2005. QuÃ©bec City and Warsaw had merged into a
world capital - and Ellipsis was using it as a base to fight the United
Nations in my world! Really. I helped eject Ellipsis from there, but I
didn't have much chance to see the state of the world. Now I guess Kristi
and I get to make up for that.

This time I've come on a mission from the U.S. Gov. My home world is
having a famine, sufficient to not entirely feed six or seven billion
people. We'll never save them all, not even all U.S. residents. So I have
been authorized as ambassador to this world, and look for places to put
emigrants. It appears this world could use immigrants, so a deal is
likely. I just need to get to Warsaw-St. Lawrence to make it.

---

31 October 2010: Now we have an escort. Israeli soldiers have made it here, as 
mercenaries. They don't talk much about what happened to Israel. But they go 
about their business with machine guns slung, just like anywhere.

Tonight, one of them admitted he's a temple prostitute. We are united in not 
caring... This world has temples. And between the lines of what certain news 
stories and historical records say, most Israelis (and Israelites!) have always 
been both secular and practical.

---

1 November 2010: We travel about eight hours a day but we make about four, due 
to broken-down roads and security measures. There's banditry along these roads.

We got into Fort Wayne in time to see Barack Obama on campaign. It's
better to build a cage than to stop Obama from bringing his favorite
animal along. It's an attack dog - literally!

Mr. Obama is running for the U.S. Senate - in Indiana. Residency and election 
results have been different here for about twenty-five years, as have tastes in 
household animals.

---

3 November 2010: Near Toledo, we saw a pyramid being built. The Israelis said, 
they keep the evil spirits away. I know this world used to have a serious demon 
infestation, so I believe them.

---

7 November 2010: The Israelis are staying here in Toledo on station. Kristi and 
I are waiting for new travel partners. "Wait for travel partners" is actually a 
common state for most of human civilization, even though we modern Westerners 
are not used to it.

---

8 November 2010: Kristi and I are in a dormitory. Separate girl and boy rooms, 
of course. That's actually a very civilized way to travel. But my boy room 
smells like me, only 12x. Not for everyone where I come from... but it is for 
most everyone in this world.

When I was walking around town, I saw bums in a shopping mall, talking
about security - and old comic books. Where I came from, we used to
subsidize homeless people for security patrol. Perhaps this Earth has done
this too - though it never worked out that well for mine.

Kristi went to see a high school debating team have a contest. It's
refreshingly normal for her.

---

9 November 2010: Here in the dorm, people are getting stuff out of lockers for 
Wednesday morning Bible study. I'd usually come along, but no, not before 8 am. 
At least they're not taking all their stuff out, the way they have to at the 
homeless shelters where I come from.

I've borrowed some of the Israelis' war games. One soldier has his own 
home-brewed game of Washington Territory in the U.S. Civil War. There are some 
Indian patrols, but mostly the territory has to send troops elsewhere. Israelis 
love low-key games with mobilization but no fighting... One of the dorm people 
accidentally knocked the game over while I was playing, but it didn't make much 
difference to my enjoyment of it.

---

10 November 2010: In Toledo we got our new traveling partner: a Chinese
merchant named Matthew, with bodyguards. We made it to the border at
Detroit.

Matthew had some secrets from us. He got out of his car at the duty-free store 
just before the border. He looked for something in his trunk. When he didn't 
find it, he ran for the store.

I'm curious, so I looked. All I found was a head in a bag. Uh oh.

Then six people with swords came out of cars, and pointed swords at me! I was 
thinking, Kristi, where are you?

Then Matthew came out and said, "Everything okay! All paid off!" He proudly 
flourished a receipt.

The people with swords got back in their cars, and drove off. Nobody else cared 
about them. But people were crowding around Matthew!

Matthew said, "Everyone want one. We leave now." Why yes we did. We gunned it 
for the border. The receipt even got him past... but while I wasn't looking, 
Kristi had disappeared. Hmm, whatever she'd done with her animal powers, Kristi 
could take care of herself. Me too, I hoped.

We stopped just across the border in Windsor. Matthew said, "All fine. We got 
permission to go."

Then Kristi reappeared. "That receipt says you signed it, Wyatt!"

Matthew said, "What? You Wyatt Ferguson? Sit back, relax! I pass your test! I 
get you some bourbon right now!"

"No! You haven't passed anything until you tell me what just happened!"

"My ex find me, give me big bill, I have to pay before border, but you pay it! 
Thank you thank you!"

Kristi silently handed me the receipt. It said $288,288... paid in full with my 
name on it.

I said to Matthew, "Just drive."

...

We got to a hotel. Canada still has a boundary with the U.S., and it has better 
hote ls than the U.S. has now. That is to say, it has private rooms and not 
dormitories.

Kristi and I got a room together so we could talk. Matthew assumed the nasty of 
us, but we're just friends. Really.

Matthew's a smuggler. We knew that going in. It's just good to know,
Kentucky is still capable of distilling bourbon which requires seven years
to produce. And in every world where Canada and Kentucky both exist,
Canada always wants to regulate good Kentucky bourbon passing its
border. But I shudder to think of who would send ninjas to fight over it.

Kristi has all manner of animal powers, but she gets them one animal at a
time.  She has mosquito powers now! When she saw that receipt Matthew was
waving, she shrank down and read it. It was a court judgment - and someone
had paid it in my name! Now everyone wants one like it.

Twice upon a time, I shook this world. Then I left it. Apparently I'm still big 
news. And someone's literally carrying on in my name. Even if I weren't here on 
a mission, I would rightfully need to go look.

---

11 November 2010: We've made it to Brantford, Ontario. Not quite Toronto, but 
Toronto is no prize nowadays, since the demons nuked it in their own fashion. 
(When was it ever, in my own humble opinion. But then, I always tried to drive 
in instead of already living there.)

We stopped here because we saw a highway sign, "Ordered Realities Badge 
Station"! Matthew and I both knew we should stop there. I explained to Kristi 
again...

The Congress of Ordered Realities has always been a useful place for omniversal 
travelers to gather. It was headquartered in Warsaw, on an Earth which Poland 
had conquered. The Council of Ordered Realities used to try to govern the known 
universes from there. I personally figure-headed the efforts which stopped two 
such attempts, during my two previous visits. In most places I can't brag about 
that, but here I can. Someone is bragging now, in my name.

12 November 2010: Matthew's hired new bodyguards. Brantford is a good place for 
that. Wherever Ordered Realities has an office, omniversal travelers gather.

First came a large green radiation-powered gladiator who'd faked
disability in another universe. (Hey, I've seen other big radiation men
fake out the Army that way. Mine was golden.) But then an enemy of his
showed up and chased him into orbit. The gladiator had wisely kept his
rocket boots on.

There was a furry blob-like creature who called himself Hmoo. He didn't have 
enemies around, though dogs ran from him. Matthew hired him. He also hired two 
other traditional mercenaries, who were making rude jokes about sex on hang 
gliders... Whatever.

So there were six of us. We got badges together.

---

14 November 2010: We've gone past Kingston, Ontario. On my old map that's a 
convenient stopping point. But demons had their way with there too. Instead 
we're in nearby Gananoque, in an old cheap hotel a mile and a half out of town.

I walked into town for some beer. Yeah, Matthew could get me drunk nearby him, 
but it is my custom to go see things and not just get drunk. I invited Kristi, 
but she said she'd just wait for me.

Half a mile into town, just past the highway, I saw a woman walking around with 
Minnie Mouse ears. She was talking on a cell phone, of course. Whatever.

But another half mile on, something like a personal-sized comic-book craft 
swooped down in the air and hovered in front of me! Its rider was wearing a hat 
like mine. He said into a microphone, "I got this one on surplus sale. If you 
had to drive here, you've got to admit you're overmatched."

"Oh. Would you be Wyatt Ferguson?"

"Huh?"

Heh. He had a microphone, but he was wearing a stylish hat instead of an array 
of super-powerful hearing devices. Maybe he really was me.

So I mouthed, "Some super-powerful master of the universes you are."

"Huh?" He swooped closer.

"Too bad those engines on your craft still don't let you hear me."

"Oh, dammit, let's talk." He landed.

"Well, okay. I can see you look like the Wyatt Ferguson who gives out free 
passes to merchants. Where do I get mine?"

"And you look like the Wyatt Ferguson who put me into exile off Earth!"

"Huh?"

"You left me in bondage to a universal destroyer, while you went away free!"

"Oh, shit. If you're who I think you are, I think you got the better deal. That 
destroyer ate most of my soul. Which was you."

"Yeah, and then eventually it spit me out. On its diet, it gets plenty of souls 
to choose from."

"... Anyway, I recovered. It looks like you did too."

Then the ground shook! A behemoth-sized big red man was next to us. He said, 
"Hey, boss, you okay? I saw you grounded."

My counterpart said, "I'm fine. I've got this covered. Now go get ready
for your milk ad tomorrow."

The red man jumped away. My counterpart said, "Radiation men are so easy
to find nowadays."

"Ain't it the truth."

"I suppose we still need to talk, while your own bodyguards are away. Want a 
ride into town?"

...

We found a neighborhood dive bar. We both signed a commemorative banner
for a fallen Canadian Forces trooper on peacekeeping mission in the
U.S. Maybe people will gawk over our twin signatures tomorrow - but
they'll probably just think we were joking, because we can't both be the
famous Wyatt Ferguson, even if anyone recognizes us through these
trenchcoats. We don't wear them just because they're stylish; in Ontario
in November, trenchcoats make sense.

Then we had The Conversation...

The other Wyatt said, "I can't let you go any closer to Warsaw."

"Yeah, I gather you have a good deal here. And you earned it. But I kind
of have to go on. I'm my world's ambassador to Ordered Realities. Aren't
they used to alternate universes by now?"

"Yeah. But they're also used to representation duels."

"Oh, yeah... Now what is it you're representing?"

"I'm the Chancellor. Like Alan Stanjem used to be. I don't have a private army 
quite like his, but I'm not exactly helpless. Still, when someone says 
Representation Duel, everyone listens."

"Hmm... If you're the Chancellor, then you're qualified to receive my 
credentials right here." I handed an envelope over. No, I hadn't left it in in 
my room with smugglers and their bodyguards around. "That's half the mission 
right there."

"You can't really be the ambassador too well from here, though."

"Can I delegate to my deputy ambassador until we can send someone else? I 
brought Kristi."

"Yeah, that would work. Now what's this other half mission?"

"How would your world like half a world's worth of immigrants?"

...

Wyatt and I didn't talk much more that night, because the karaoke contest
was starting. He passed on the singing. So did I, for once. But we got an
agreement in principle on refugee settlement. In any case, Chancellor
Wyatt's not going to back any effort to stamp out Sunset Doors from my
world.

Kristi wasn't eager, but I did get her to sign on as Deputy
Ambassador. The Chancellor will be much more helpful in getting her
settled in than I could hope to be.

The price of this agreement is, I'm leaving from here. Homeward, I
hope. But it was hard enough getting this far, even with help. So I've
left a copy of this story with Kristi. Dear Reader, if you see it before
you see me, you'll at least know what happened this far.

But don't worry too much, because dammit. Up to now, not even gods,
demons, Ultimate Darkness, and the mightiest superhumans of the Omniverse
have been able to keep me away from home for long.

---

Author's Notes:

The web version of this story lives at
http://www.eilertech.com/stories/2010/beyond.htm .  It has many hyperlinks
which will let you look up the backstory of Warsaw-St. Lawrence and the
Council of Ordered Realities.

This story is technically November 2010 #2. I'm writing it in 2011, but I
file the story by when it happens in the characters' world. I usually fall
one to two months behind in sorting out my concepts.

I think I wrote this story without outright referring to other publishers' 
concepts which I blatantly used in previous fan fictions that led to this 
situation. But just in case I can't, this story is not intended to violate any 
copyrights. In particular, Galactus and the Hulks are characters of Marvel 
Comics. But I will admit, the Hulks were targets of opportunity.

Some concepts came from Rec.Arts.Comics.Creative too, but not as many as
they suggested. I kept the part where Wyatt got a legitimate job whose
success would be determined at random, but dropped two challenges which
would have led to his confronting a subterranean in a poetry slam. So I'm
not declaring this to be inspired by High Concept Challenges. Still,
certain people in the group might be pleased that I actually described the
ambiance of the restaurant in the story this time.

Wyatt's random success for the challenge I accepted was "Fail". And it made 
sense for the story. RACC, you have therefore decided that all future Wyatt 
Ferguson stories will not be from the world of Warsaw St. Lawrence. So they're 
likely to be from his own apocalyptic homeworld. Hmm, I'll have to decide how 
I'll write those stories. I didn't want to write them, but I don't envision 
giving up writing. But I may take a break, or slow down this storyline to (say) 
Superhuman World 1999 levels, at one web page per year. Hey, maybe I'll start a 
new story!

(signed) Scott Eiler, 14 January 2011.