The Stranger Crowd

[csyphrett]

1

He felt the tugging on his form again. He looked around at his home. He had finally
gotten the flowers just so. If he left, he would have to start over.

 

His tiny space shook from the outside pushing on it. If he didn’t stop that, his place
could be completely destroyed. He couldn’t have that. He hadn’t put a tree in and
nurtured it to lose it to the world.

 

He needed to look into things. Why couldn’t his space not be linked to the Earth. It
was at the edge of the Dreamtime. If he could move it, he wouldn’t have to put up
with repairing everything when there was trouble on Earth.

 

He reached into the air and pulled open a hole. He stepped through the opened door
from his garden to the real world. He took a moment to link to the people in the city
as he looked around for the trouble that had summoned him.

 

He paused at the sight of men in identical tan body suits with face masks running into
the local stores and coming out with loot in their hands. He surveyed the scene. The
group of identical men were everywhere.

 

A group of the robbers surrounded a security guard trying to stop them. The uniform
went down under the onslaught of hundreds of fists and kicks.

 

“Hey!,” he shouted as he charged forward. “Stop that.”

 

All of the masked men turned at the sound of his voice. They smiled at him. He didn’t
like that at all.

 

“So it’s Tribe, is it?,” said the group, each mouth taking a syllable of the speech. It
was like listening to a wave at a sports stadium. “Come to stop me, wanker?”

 

“I guess so,” said Tribe. He wondered where that name had come from. He had not
called himself that. “I want you to stop what you’re doing. You can leave after that.”

 

“You want me to stop what I’m doing?,” said the group in a mockish high voice.
“And you’ll let me leave? Really?”

 

“Yes,” said Tribe. Why did these humans make things so difficult?

 

“I don’t think you understand,” said the man in tan. “I’m Clonus. I can do whatever
I want, whenever I want. Why don’t you stop a purse snatcher or something? That’s
about your speed.”

 

“I’m not trying to arrest you,” said Tribe. “I just want you to stop doing this and move
on and do something useful. If I have to resort to violence, you won’t like it.”

 

“You and what army, wanker?,” asked Clonus. More of him appeared as some of the
group continued to carry off their loot.

 

“Is that how it’s going to be?,” asked Tribe. He looked down at his thin, brown hands
at the end of  his thin arms. He hated using violence. “All I want is a peaceful
resolution to this problem.”

 

“Think again,” said Clonus.

 

An expanding flood of fighters charged Tribe in a human wave. He noted the rest not
actively fighting him were making off with their loot. He grimaced as the first punch
tried to knock his face off. He blocked with one arm, and punched with the other. His
opponent blew apart like a bursting bubble.

 

So he could get rid of them with single punches. That was good.

 

He took a punch to the face. It hurt, but linked in with the city, his body should repair
the damage almost instantly. More punches and kicks followed. The pain built up
from the impacts.

 

He could lose the fight if the Clonus clones kept hammering him. He needed to get
some room so he could think of a solution to his problem.

 

Tribe straightened, flinging his arms wide. Criminals shattered when they hit anything
solid. He had cleared a space to fight from. He had to capitalize on his effort.

 

He grabbed one of the masked men and swung him like a bat. Weapon and targets
went up in a cloud of dust. He grabbed a fist reaching for his face and swung that
clone through the crowd. Some of the duplicates blew up as well as his weapon.

 

Tribe leaped clear of the cloud. He had to stop the thefts. Stopping the villain seemed
out of reach for the moment.

 

He realized he wasn’t going to be able to do either with the way Clonus kept
expanding his army.

 

The stolen goods surged away from the battle he was conducting against the
increasing wave of duplicates. Ten more popped into existence with every one he
punched apart.

 

There was no way he could combat that tide.

 

The clones began disappearing as he punched several in the face. He paused as they
ran down the length of the shopping area as they vanished.

 

Tribe paused. What did he do now? His enemy had escaped. The property was gone.
Things should go back to normal unless Clonus had more places to rob.

 

He didn’t know how he was going to fix the damages caused to the stores. Maybe this
was something the owners could do for themselves.

 

Clonus had overwhelmed him. He had not contested with another with that skill set
in a long time. Suddenly fighting an army had set him back.

 

Clonus was not going to stop. So he had to be stopped by someone else. Did he
handle that, or leave it to the police?

 

He decided to go home. He had to fix his space. If Clonus struck again, he would
have to do something to intervene.

 

He didn’t like it, but he didn’t see anything else he could do. He needed a way to deal
with a horde of Clonus clones if he wanted to stop the man from making off with
anything he wanted. That just wasn’t in his skill set, and he needed time to try to think
of a solution.

 

He hated to admit defeat, but he had been beaten by the army of duplicates.

 

He let the link to the city’s denizens go so he could open a door back to his home in
the Dreamtime. He stepped through and closed the door behind him. He looked at his
wrecked garden. He had to put things right before he could relax and watch the
moonglow.

 

He needed to find a way to prevent damage from events from the outside. He knew
that people’s fears were what had shaken the space earlier. There was nothing he
could do about that. The Dreamtime responded to the waking world’s fears and joys.

He picked up a turtle that had been turn over on its back and set it on its legs. He
watched it trundle away. That was the easiest fix he could see in his garden.

 

How did he fight a one man army? Clonus would not stop until his greed was satiated.
Maybe what he had stolen would be enough. Maybe it was only the start.

 

He needed to research tactics he could apply against his enemy in case the man struck
again. He didn’t want to fix his space every time the clones attacked.

 

He sat down on the ground. The grass reformed and took shape, springing up around
him in a circular lawn. Some of the blades danced.

 

He pushed out a bubbling brook broken off from the Big River that ran through the
Dreamtime. It flowed in rivulets constructed to carry it among the flowers he grew,
and water the animals that might be attracted to his place.

 

He put together bushes and trees to edge in the garden of colored flowers coming
back to life. He smiled as the trees waved their limbs with happy expressions on their
knotty faces.

 

He nodded. He used four rocks to mark off the edges of his domain. In the vast
landscape of the Dreamtime, his part was so small he could walk across it in a few
minutes.

 

It was also unstable thanks to his connection to the outside reality. Anything that
stirred up enough of the human minds touching the Dreamtime, caused the vast reality
to shake its contents in the hopes of averting the mental problems that might come
into play.

 

He didn’t want to be the official representative of the uber nature he lived in, but
he was the one who could reach out and minimize damage.

 

Tribe noted his turtle friend had come back with a host of his friends. They settled
next to the flowing water and croaked at him.

 

He smiled at the display. He wondered what else was going to try to make his refuge
their home.

 

He watched the turtles and wondered how could he stop a one man army from
overwhelming the city and taking anything he wanted.

 

What was the solution to the problem?

[Watchman Mk. IV]

Shades of The Matrix and The Last Wave...

 

Interesting use of the Dreamtime, too.

[csyphrett]

Thank you. I feel like this has another ten k in it. I am not sure how the rest of it will go. It's been sitting in my notebooks for a long time like the Kid team story. I think I have Death Tribble, king of the St Louis Underworld and a couple of others written down to write out.

 

The Question Man started this sidebar on my webpage. I wouldn't have done it without him.

CES 

[csyphrett]

2

Clonus tried out his new easy chair. He smiled as he eased the foot rest out. He
looked around. Even with Tribe interfering, he had been able to furnish his place with
ease.

 

He could remain there for the next little while until he felt like getting some new
decor.

 

“What are you doing?,” asked his visitor.

 

“Enjoying the fruits of my labor,” said Clonus. “I thought I had an alarm installed.”

 

“The job I paid you to do?,” said the other masked man. He wore a helmet covering
his face. A gold A shone against the red background.

 

“It’ll get done as soon as the Army stops moving the pieces around,” said Clonus. “I
have an eye on things.”

 

“And you’ve attracted the attention of Tribe,” said the A man. “He won’t stop now
that he has confronted you once.”

 

“I can handle Tribe,” said Clonus. “He’s no match for me.”

 

“You’re not the first person to say that,” said the visitor. “I’ve said that. And we have
all been wrong. Quit attracting his attention, and do what I tell you to do.”

 

“I don’t have to do this job, Assault,” said Clonus. “You can do it yourself.”

 

“Do you really want to go that route with me, Clonus?,” said Assault. Red light
burned in his eyes.

 

“Hold on, mate,” said Clonus. He raised his hands and waved them in front of his
body. “There’s no need for violence.”

 

“There’s always need for violence,” said Assault. The red fire dimmed. “I need you
to act as my cover. No one must know what I am after, or what I am doing.”

 

“I assure you that no one will,” said Clonus. “No matter what Tribe does, he won’t
be able to stop me. None of them can. Just take it easy, and call me in a couple of
days. If the things have landed, I will pick them up straight away, and we can have
a meeting so I can hand them off.”

 

“That’s a better attitude to take,” said Assault. “I would hate to dispense with your
services and let the world know I’m still alive.”

 

“Everything will go like clockwork,” said Clonus. He looked at the various clones
doing anything but looking like they were working on a scheme. “No one will know
you wanted the pieces until you want them to know.”

 

“Your ability to create an army is impressive and useful,” said Assault. “But it makes
you egotistical and careless. If you err doing this, I will be angered enough to take
action.”

 

“Don’t worry, mate,” said Clonus, gesturing with both hands in a placating way.
“Things will go all right.”

 

“They had better,” said Assault. He turned to walk away. “I will await your call.”

 

Clonus considered attacking the other masked man as he walked away. He stopped
thinking about it as soon as he got to the part where if he didn’t deal with Assault on
the first move, the other man would fry him and any clones he created like shrimp on
a barbie.

 

Clonus eased back on his couch. Now that his employer was leaving, he could relax.
It might be days before he had to move to get the other villain what he wanted.

He didn’t need the stress. He just wanted some smash and grabs. Now he had to take
care of things for a conqueror that should have given up when the Arc had lit him up.

 

Egomaniacs always thought they could do what the wanted until they couldn’t.

 

Clonus rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. How did he get out of this
without Assault coming after him? He didn’t think handing over anything to the
maniac would be good for his peace of mind.

 

It was too bad he couldn’t just turn Assault over to Tribe and let them duke it out.
That would help him out of his corner immensely.

 

He turned the idea over in his mind. He liked the risk of it, but the reward was great
too.

 

He needed to get out from under Assault’s thumb. Turning him in seemed to be the
only way. How did he do it without getting killed?

 

He split off five or six clones and set them to devising a plan that he could live with
after everything went down. He was going to have to live with a rat label if he was
exposed. He didn’t want the extra trouble that would cause.

 

He couldn’t have both sides chasing him even though he was more than a match

for most of them.

 

While his clones worked on his counterassault, others were going over where his
target might land, how to get in the various places, what kind of security he might
expect.

 

The only thing he worried about was gas attacks. He had found a gas mask to wear
in case one of the defenders got smart before he could overwhelm them.

 

If he could keep one clone in range, he could escape and get away without too
much of a problem.

 

Dealing with Assault was going to be the key problem with any plan. It was one thing
to say to yourself, you can walk away, you’re invincible. It was another to run for
your life as beams of hellish fury sliced through anything in their way as they tried
to cut you down as you fled.

 

Clonus had been on both sides of the problem dealing with the Arc, and Assault. He
wanted to keep his skin intact.

 

He watched television as the clones worked and played. He expected the study group
to give him something he could use. Then he could break it down into steps and carry
it out.

 

The perfect plan would be to draw Tribe and Assault into a showdown and walk away
with the prize. Then he could figure out some alternative person to sell the stolen
material too. He still knew some fences that might be able to help him.

 

He made a note not to mention Assault when he tried to sell the thing. He didn’t need
refusals based on the fact no one wanted to die.

 

His clones presented a plan to him halfway through Dr. Blake solving a mystery. He
went over the moving parts with them. They assured him it was the best way for him
that they could see.

 

“This means moving back into the shadows,” said Clonus. “I’ll have to live off the
grid more than this if it works.”

 

The clones shrugged. The brain wanted an answer. They researched the answer. Their
job was done.

 

The fact that the answer had a lot of moving parts that could get the brain killed in
a spectacular accident was not their problem.

 

“I need to sleep on this before we start trying to make it work,” said Clonus. He
absorbed the clones and sat back down. The fact that he would be turning the tables
on Assault by faking his death while outing the other villain appealed to him.

 

He wondered what Assault would think when he wound up facing Tribe and anyone
else who might show up after the theft. If he took some do-gooders with him, that
would just leave the field even more open for a man with a brain and useful abilities.

 

He might be able to take over a city and call it Cloneville.

 

He decided that was taking things too far. The Leaguer would come down on him like
a hammer on an egg shell.

 

It was better to steal what you could and avoid the authorities where possible. And
dealing with a suit of armor capable of blocking a tidal wave with a force shield
was just asking for more trouble than he wanted to cause.

 

And there were a lot of lesser do-gooders out there who just wanted a chance at
taking him on like a scene from when Australia was the home of bush rangers like
Ned Kelly.

 

It was better to ply his trade under the notice of anyone who wanted to bring him in
for trial.

 

And being dead would throw Tribe off the scent.

 

The only problem with the plan that he could see was what happened if Assault
figured it out before he could execute his getaway. Bad feelings would be
demonstrated with the use of hellfire applied to his person.

 

He considered how he could move Tribe into the execution zone while he fled the
scene in some kind of disguise.

 

He smiled. As long as he kept one of his minions at the edge of his range, he could
escape. Merging would bring them together across the distance.

 

Dispersing any acting clones while it looked like he had been trapped and killed
would convince the authorities that he was dead. Then he could steal again without
anyone making the connection between what he could do with his powers.

 

You didn’t have to smash and grab when you could just burgle a place.

 

And burgling a place meant you generally didn’t have to fight the masked monkeys
trying to stop you.

 

He smiled as he drifted off to sleep. The clones would wake him up if he needed to
say something more complex than ‘Get off my lawn!’

[csyphrett]

3

Tribe wandered the streets. He wore his cloak around him as he tried to discern where
Clonus would have gone. Once he knew that, he needed to plan the next step to solve
his problem.

 

Dealing with the clones had to be done if he wanted to stop whatever was going on.
He had no way of doing that.

 

If he knew of a way to cut off the central brain, that might be a solution. On the other
hand, there might not be a central brain. The clones might be pieces of the same brain.

If he attacked the mind, he might be able to beat all of the clones at the same time.

 

His mind kept going back to how he didn’t know how Clonus’s power actually
worked, and how to stop him from cloning. If he could do that, the rest should be
easy. His physical strength was immense inside a settlement of people.

 

Maybe he should go to university and see what he could learn there.

Someone must know of a way to beat the one man army.

 

Tribe picked the biggest school in the city. He walked the streets until he reached the
borders. He looked for a place he could sit and meditate. He picked a building marked
for science and engineering.

 

He climbed to the roof and settled on the gravel. He closed his eyes and thought about
what he was trying to find.

 

Chains of symbols erupted around him. He walked through them in his mind as he
tried to understand the concepts and how they manifested in the Dreamtime. He found
one road and walked down it a while before deciding it was the wrong path. He
returned to the start and found another path and walked down that. He smiled. This
was what he needed.

 

The problem was how did he prevent Clonus from activating his powers long enough
for his solution to kick in.

 

He would have to attack when the man was altogether, and concentrating on
something else. Once he had that, the rest would be easy.

 

Now he needed the ingredients to power his trap. Once he had those, the rest would
be finding Clonus and stopping him before he could split apart. If one got away, then
he had escaped the trap.

 

Tribe pulled his mind out of the Dreamtime and stood. He had a list in his mind of
what he needed. He jumped from the roof and landed lightly on the grass next to the
building.

 

He decided to talk to someone at the Zoo. They might have what he needed. If they
did, that would make things that much simpler for him.

 

Tribe walked across town. The sun was going down by the time he reached the wall
around the Zoo. He scaled the wall and dropped down inside the grounds. He worked
his way toward the administration area.

 

He felt they would have what he needed in their veterinarian area. He could probably
mix everything together in a few minutes. Then he would have to focus on finding
Clonus, or guessing where he would go on another spree.

 

Tribe wished the human world was less complicated. The Dreamtime didn’t have all
this to deal with. You moved into the spot you wanted to settle, and you kept it
steady.

 

Roaming interactions weren’t that important there.

 

He walked the space of the veterinarian’s clinic. He spoke small sounds to calm the
beasts. He was a stranger, and they didn’t like strangers in their area at the best of
times.

 

He found his ingredients and poured them into a bowl. He mixed them together with
a finger until they felt right. He poured the mixture into a bottle. He cleaned the bowl
and put everything back where it went. He corked the bottle and slipped that under
his poncho cape.

 

One touch of his brew would be all she wrote for Clonus.

 

He made his way to the wall of the Zoo. He vaulted over and walked deeper in the
city.

 

He needed to find Clonus before he committed his next spree. If he was too late, he
had to wait until he could track the man back to his hole. His strength was no match
for an army that kept expanding as you tried to deal with it.

 

He might be able to apply the substance in the middle of a fight. There was no telling
if Clonus would recombine and be affected, or if the clone would be affected and
drop wherever it passed out.

 

He couldn’t count on that. It was much better if he found the man and applied the
ointment before the criminal had time to do anything else. Then he could return to the
Dreamtime and enjoy his place in the sun.

 

Maybe Clonus had stolen enough things that he wasn’t going on another spree again.

What would Tribe do if Clonus didn’t need anything else?

 

A thief always needed something else. All he had to do was figure out what the next
thing happened to be, and then get there ahead of time. Then he could put his mixture
to work.

 

Tribe decided the best thing to do was go back to the original place where they had
clashed. Maybe there was some trail from the battlefield to where Clonus had made
his lair. If there was, he could confront the man on his home ground.

 

That appealed to the hero. Clonus had wrecked his garden in the Dreamtime with his
shenanigans. Forcing him from his home would be payback for that minor misdeed.

Revenge was not something he should indulge but he was willing to put that aside for
this one time.

 

The only good thing to come out of this was the arrival of the turtles. They were
stabilizing his piece of the world better than he could himself.

 

And he liked turtles for the most part.

 

Tribe walked into the battlefield and took his spot where memory said he had
confronted Clonus the first time. How did he use this?

 

He searched his memory of the events of the fight. He saw the images conform to
what he remembered.

 

He looked around for things that he had seen but hadn’t remembered at first glance.

Images of Clonus carrying his prizes to moving vans appeared. He paused. Had he
seen what kind of moving vans? They were probably stolen. It might be something
he could use.

 

Had Clonus kept the moving vans? If he had, he had to park them somewhere. If they
could be found, then the one man army had to be close by if he was going to use them
on his next spree.

 

Tribe walked in the direction the trucks pulled off in. He counted at least three. That
was enough to contain the big haul that Clonus had pulled down.

 

Tribe followed the trucks until he lost sight of them. He realized that was where his
memory had run out. He looked around. Did he have more memory he could use?

 

He saw the trucks heading for a freeway. They climbed up a ramp, and disappeared
into traffic.

 

He looked down the freeway as much as he could. The memory just wasn’t there. But
he had a direction. Where could Clonus go using that road and still stay in the city?

 

Tribe realized there were plenty of places the freeway could take his designated
enemy. He closed his eyes and ruled out all the places with residences. That left him
with spots of industrial activity.

 

He decided to check those places out and see if rental trucks were parked anywhere
close.

 

Once he was sure that the trucks weren’t sitting somewhere waiting to be found,
he would try something else.

 

He only had to be right once. And when he was, he had to make being right count.
Clonus just couldn’t be allowed to run free to do what he wanted.

 

At least he didn’t want to take over the country. That would put a desperation into
things to oust him from the continent. The Dreamtime would suffer as long as he was
wrecking things.

 

It had taken long enough to stabilize things when the whites had first came.

 

Tribe climbed up to the freeway. Traffic was light. He needed to move faster if he
wanted to check out the dark spots on his head map before the sun came up. He
decided he needed to hitch a ride.

 

He saw a truck advertising croc removal barreling down the road. He waited until it
was past before running after it and grabbing the tailgate. He pulled himself onboard
and knelt so he could see the signs for the exits he wanted.

 

He frowned when he realized the croc hunter was heading into a residential area. He 
jumped over the side of the truck and let it keep going down the ramp. He started
walking. He was closer than he had been. He needed another ride going his way.

 

He picked out his next transport within a few minutes of walking. He climbed on the
back bumper and let the truck roll on. When he thought he was close enough, he
jumped off and walked to the shoulder of the road. He looked at the stack of
warehouses and factories.

 

He spotted three moving trucks parked next to one of the warehouses. He nodded.
Now he had to get down there before Clonus made his next move.

 

He looked for a fast way down that didn’t involve jumping from the freeway to the
streets below. He went down the side of the road until he found an exit. He ran down
the hill the exit was founded on.

 

He had to get to Clonus before he went on his next robbery spree.

[csyphrett]

4

Clonus groaned. He rubbed his face. He didn’t need the trouble now. How did he get
rid of Tribe?

 

The thin man walked toward the trucks outside of the lair. It had been a good move
to install cameras for security. How did he handle this problem?

 

He certainly couldn’t let Assault know their security was compromised. The criminal
mastermind was obsessed with no one knowing he was still alive. He would lose his
mind if he knew that Tribe was that close to exposing him to the world.

 

Clonus considered what he should do as he watched the hero approach the trucks. He
needed them to transport Assault’s prize. He couldn’t let them be sabotaged.

 

He also couldn’t let Assault know that Tribe was outside the secret lair. That would
invoke a row that he didn’t need.

 

He decided that he could put Tribe in one of the other buildings long enough to get
Assault’s target, and clear out. It would take a moment’s bit of work.

 

He split until he could reach the skylight in the ceiling of the renovated building. It
had taken a few days to get it to where he wanted it before he furnished it. With Tribe
so close, he would have to abandon it before the authorities started searching for it.

He snarled as he pulled himself out of the skylight and drew in his clones. He walked
over to the edge of the building where he could see Tribe walking around the trucks.
The thin man must be casting about for a trail.

 

At least he had a chance to deal with things before they got even more out of hand.

He split to drop down to the lot. He kept splitting so his army approached in a silent
wave. He couldn’t let Tribe fight back. Everything depended on taking the hero apart
before anything else could go wrong.

 

The clone army fell on top of the intruder. There was no time for any mercy. Tribe
went down under the fists and feet of his opponent before he could defend himself.
He groaned as one man army looked for a place to hide him until his business was
done. He saw a truck loading up cargo at one of the other industrial places nearby.

It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it might buy time until he could make his move for
Assault’s prize. It would also get Tribe away from the scene and shipped to a random
location until he could move his things out.

 

On the other hand, as soon as he had put Tribe on the road, he would have to start
moving his things to his next hideout to avoid giving another beating.

 

He doubted Assault would understand the move, but he wasn’t going to explain it. He
didn’t want any trouble with the pain in the neck.

 

He gathered Tribe up. He didn’t care about the broken bones he had handed out
making things more painful for the hero. He needed to get the dingo away from the
site for as long as he could.

 

He carried the nuisance across the space in a wave of bodies, throwing him over the
fence around the other property, and flinging him in the back of the truck with the
already loaded cargo. The driver and loaders were nowhere to be found. He put one
of his guys behind the wheel after strapping Tribe down with the cargo. He closed the
door and told his clone to start driving.

 

He watched the truck pull out of the lot. That should buy him enough time to relocate.
He had to hurry if he wanted to get things done before Tribe brought the authorities
back to his headquarters.

 

He decided not to warn Assault. He didn’t need the headache of the other villain
complaining about how he did things, and he didn’t care about the other villain
wanting to keep his survival under wraps.

 

If he was there when Tribe came back, then he could deal with Tribe.

 

Clonus planned to be at his backup place so he could avoid any problems for himself.

He flowed back to his headquarters. He started packing everything up and loading the
loot on the trucks. He thought that was how Tribe had tracked him down. He should
have hidden them better from the street.

 

He looked around for Assault. The last thing he needed was to exchange words with
his contractee. Maybe he could beat Assault into the ground, maybe he couldn’t. He
was getting paid not to try while he was needed to steal something for the blowhard.

He would have to watch his back after the job was over. He didn’t need Assault trying
to clean house by burying him in the Outback somewhere.

 

He finished packing and inspecting his former lair in a few minutes. He would have
to find another place where no one cared about trucks waiting at the loading docks
of the building.

 

Assault would have to find his new lair, but that should be a breeze for the master
villain.

 

Clonus smiled at that. Assault probably had something that tracked his movements
and called him to show that the duplicator was out and about. Nothing he could do
about that.

 

He checked on-line adverts for anything he could use as a lair. He also put in a search
for closed companies so he could move in those places.

 

He found a ranch on the edge of the city that was up for sell. No one seemed to have
moved in yet. It might be perfect for what he wanted.

 

At the very least he could put in a bid for it.

 

He still didn’t have any information on when the pieces were coming in. He decided
that he should at least let Assault know that he was moving. That would prevent the
temper tantrum he saw in the future.

 

At the very least, it might cause Assault to hurry his end of things up so problems
could be smoothed away by fast action.

 

That would make it easier to lead him into a trap and get rid of his threat at the same
time.

 

He liked that. He would have to get another truck, but that was child’s play.

 

And with Tribe wandering around the city in the back of a cargo truck, he could
truthfully say he was covering his tracks.

 

Assault wouldn’t like it, but that wasn’t his problem.

 

Clonus sent a text to his boss. He waited for the inevitable reply.

 

He smiled when his phone buzzed as he moved out with his trucks and loot. How did
he put this in the best light? He scratched his head. He had no idea that there was a
best light. It was best to break the news straight so the emotional outburst could be
dealt with and they could move on.

 

“How’s it going?,” asked Clonus.

 

He held the phone away from his ear as he directed his clone to drive. He waited until
he couldn’t hear the enraged voice any more.

 

“Did that feel good?,” he said. “You need to work on that bad temper. That kind of
thing leads to strokes and heart attacks.”

 

He waited for the next tirade to end before he spoke again. He wanted to keep his
hearing in that one ear.

 

“I loaded him into a truck and sent him out of town,” said Clonus. “I’m moving my
lair right now. How much longer before you know when you need me to move?”

 

The response was a little more pensive than he was used to from his employer.

 

“All right,” said Clonus. “I don’t know where I’m going to hide at the moment. I’ll
let you know when we quit driving. You let me know of the general location of the
targets so I can do the job.”

 

He waited out the brief storm of words.

 

“You can always hire someone else,” Clonus said. He hung up before he had to listen
to another diatribe.

 

“Some people,” he said to his clone.

 

“I know, right,” said the clone. “Always talking, always with the threats. Like we
don’t have feelings or something.”

 

“We really need to expose him and make sure he gets taken in,” said Clonus. “I don’t
like the idea of having him at our back.”

 

“You’re telling me,” said Driver Clonus. “He might try to kill us to preserve his
precious anonymity. Probably doesn’t want to run into a big timer like the Leaguer
while he’s trying to get his scheme going.”

 

“Nobody wants to run into the Leaguer,” said Clonus. “Take us to that house I was
looking at, and we’ll see if we can fix it up into a new lair.”

 

“Might not be able to with Assault running around,” said Driver Clonus.

 

“I know,” said Clonus. “That’s why I want to cut him out if we can.”

 

“I’ll say,” said Driver Clonus. He gave Clonus a thumb’s up in agreement.

 

“Keep your eyes on the road,” said Clonus. “We don’t want to run into any blue boys
while we’re moving.”

 

“You don’t have to tell me, brother,” said Driver Clonus.

 

The little parade rolled through town as Clonus waited for Assault to call him back.
Did the master villain have the contacts to get the job done? Did any of them know
who they were dealing with, and what he would do if they found out?

 

He didn’t think so.

 

A murderer never let the victim know they were the target unless they couldn’t help
it.

 

Assault would never tell his assets for whom they were working. That would be
asking for trouble in the criminal dog eat dog world.

 

And it would destroy his precious anonymity if he missed someone bragging about
him being their boss.

 

Clonus smiled when he saw the property he wanted coming into view. It was outside
the city proper with some acreage, and a nice looking building. He needed some
security put in but he could do that after he settled on how to pay for the thing.

 

You could steal a house, but that only lasted as long as it took someone from
the authorities to come around and ask why you were living in someone else’s
property.

 

It was far better to buy the house and pretend you were a law abiding citizen.

 

Then the coppers had to get warrants and such to even touch your property.

It appealed to him to try and make them prove he was Clonus and he had stolen
everything in the house.

 

He smiled at the thought, but knew that the police only needed probable cause to
arrest him. Warrants for searches would come after when he couldn’t hide anything.

His clones would make sure they wouldn’t find anything.

 

He could dig out the space under the house and reinforce it for personal use. An army
of manpower would help that along when he was ready.

 

The pyramids weren’t built in a day, but they were built with so many hands that
combined individual strengths. He did the same thing.

 

Clonus directed the convoy to the back of the house, and told the drivers to wait. He
needed some regular clothes and the number of the real estate agent.

 

He went to the back of one of the trucks. He opened the door and climbed in. He
climbed out a few minutes later in what was usually called business casual. He
walked to the front of the house to examine the sign for the selling agency.

 

Time to settle down in an old disguise.

[csyphrett]

5

Tribe felt the pain rolling through his body. He tried to hold himself still while he
looked at it with his mind. Clonus had done a number on him. That was what he got
for not paying attention to his surroundings.

 

He supposed he should be happy to be alive. He cracked a small smile. He could be
hurt, but he couldn’t be killed.

 

He reached out and touched the city. Resources flowed into his body. The cracked
bones and bruises flowed out. He dispersed them over a wide area so no one would
notice what he had done to heal himself.

 

It was time to get out of the box he was in and look for his enemy.

 

Tribe climbed on top of the cargo. He felt the steel ceiling with his hand. Then he
punched a hole through it, mending the bones of his hand the same way he had healed
all of his earlier battle wounds. He pushed the steel back out of his way so he could
climb on the back of the moving truck.

 

He looked back. The headquarters was rapidly receding from view. Did he jump
down and go back, or stay with the truck and hope it led him somewhere?

 

Maybe he should stop the truck so he could figure out what to do.

 

Tribe walked down the trailer. He paused at the end, watching the truck for a second
as he thought about what he wanted to do. One of Clonus’s clones drove. He could
tell that from the arm sticking out the window.

 

If he attacked, the clone could spawn an army to overwhelm him. On the other hand,
it would have to stop the truck to be really effective. He could possibly attack and
take it out before it could do anything to stop him.

 

He wondered how well it would do in the dream time.

 

Tribe waited for the traffic on the highway to thin. He had no interest in disrupting
other people’s plans. He only wanted to stop Clonus to keep his garden straightened
out. Causing a pile up would not serve that in any way.

 

The truck entered a lull with no other car around. The thin man dropped down on the
cab and grabbed the arm. He commanded the clone to go to sleep. The hive mentality
tried to fight his command, but he had the will of the city behind him. The clone
driver slumped over the wheel.

 

Tribe climbed down and opened the door. He pushed the clone out of the way. He got
behind the wheel and slowed the truck down into the shoulder of the road. He set the
blinkers as it rolled to a stop.

 

Tribe grabbed the clone’s face. He exerted his will to peer around inside the brain. He
found the link to the rest of them. He almost smiled. Following the link in the real
world should let him get close enough to capture Clonus without a real fight.

 

He didn’t like the shadow at the back of the clone’s memories. Assault had been a
constant foe of the Arc. He had supposedly died in an explosion.

 

Tribe considered what he should do. He could turn things over to the authorities, but
he didn’t see how they could do a better job than he was doing. He doubted they
would believe him. And the dream time and his place in it was his to defend.

 

He had to find Clonus, put him down, and then use that to find Assault somehow. It
seemed easy when he said it in his head.

 

Finding Clonus should be easy since he had a piece of the man in the cab with him.
Dealing with him would be much harder.

 

Tribe decided that he could use the truck to get where he had to go until he was done.
Then he could call the police to come get it wherever he abandoned it. That made his
plan easier to carry out.

 

The next thing to do was turn around and head back to the depot and pick up Clonus’s
trail. Then he could drive to where the mastermind had set up his new base and have
a quiet talk with the man.

 

Barring that, he would have a loud talk with the man while committing violence
against his expanding horde.

 

Whatever Assault wanted had to be opposed. He had made a name for himself as
someone as dangerous as Dr. Hoz. He had to be stopped before he got what he
wanted.

 

Clonus should know better than to work with Assault. His reputation for ending
partnerships was notorious. The horde would have a fight for his life against the
villain.

 

Tribe doubted he could do anything to the villain, but he couldn’t stop at that point.
Someone had to stop Clonus and Assault. He had to be the man. He hoped he had a
bigger spot for the turtles when he got home.

 

He pulled out on the road. He drove down to the next exit, crossed the bridge, then
turned down the ramp to go back to where the truck had come from before Clonus
had stolen it.

 

He saw the fence where he had been ambushed. The rental trucks had rolled out. He
paused for a moment. Which way should he go from there? He decided to head out
on the surface streets. He had a vague idea that Clonus had decided to settle
somewhere on the other side of the city.

 

He made sure that his captive still slept. He didn’t want to deal with a one man army
pushing him out of the truck at high speed.

 

Tribe followed the mental link pointing out of the clone to the rest of his bodies. He
drove slower than usual because of the split in his attention. It took a certain amount
of concentration to sift a hostile mind. Doing that and driving could lead to a bad
accident if he wasn’t careful.

 

He rolled to a stop when he saw the property sign on the road. He looked around. He
didn’t see the one man army. The link pointed off the road.

 

He climbed down from the cab. He doubted Clonus had time to make his security
proof against common burglars. He had a window to get things done.

 

He looked at the lights from the city. He didn’t feel as strong as he should. He
decided that he had moved to the edge of his range. He only possessed the strength
he could draw from the Dreamtime.

 

That had to be enough to take care of the next part of this. Clonus could not be
allowed to run free. And as long as one clone was out there, he could switch bodies
and flee while the rest of him fought a delaying action against anyone trying to arrest
him.

 

Tribe felt that if he could take down the main mass and keep them under, then he
could track any free clones moving around away from the scene.

 

He crept from the parked truck. He hoped that it was out of sight of the house. He
needed all the surprise he could muster if he wanted to win the fight.

 

Clonus had shown he was hard to beat if he knew you were coming. Tribe wondered
how much of a lightning bolt Arc had to generate to capture him the first time they
fought.

 

Tribe crept closer to the house. He was a shadow among other shadows. He found a
guard looking out into the night. He put the clone to sleep with a grab and a mental
command. He propped the body next to a single tree in the yard.

 

If he was found by the other clones, they would think he was goldbricking.

 

Tribe moved closer to the house. He didn’t see any artificial security. He moved to
the back door. He could enter there and try to take Clonus by surprise.

 

If he succeeded, he could think about how to deal with Assault. He wasn’t looking
forward to that.

 

He checked the door to see if it was locked. The doorknob turned in his hand. He
could go in and settle things, but he had to be quick. Clonus could easily stop him
with his multiplying power. He had to prevent the cloning process no matter what.

Tribe eased the door open. Two clones played cards at the kitchen table. Another
cooked at the stove. He hit the two at the table in passing on his way to the stove.
He slammed that clone into the cabinets above the stove before dropping him.
He turned and put the other two asleep.

 

Tribe went to the kitchen door. He expected a small army coming through the door.
He needed to make sure to do as much damage as he could before they carried him
away.

 

Nothing happened. He expected something. Maybe Clonus’s attention was on
something else.

 

Tribe went to the door to the rest of the house. He peered around the frame. Clones
walked everywhere. They carried furniture and decorative fixtures to places on the
empty floor and walls. He realized Clonus was still moving in.

 

Could he fight all of the clones he saw? What happened if he wasn’t fast enough? He
didn’t want to take another beating. Then a plan came to mind and taking a beating
seemed to be the only option. He closed his eyes and thought. He didn’t see any other
plan that would work in the time he had. Assault might call at any minute.

 

He hated the thought he was going to allow Clonus to beat on him unless he was
lucky and knocked all of them out before they could start splitting apart.

 

Tribe sprinted forward. He flew into the closest clones. They dropped the couch
they were carrying and slammed into others like pinballs. He kept moving forward,
aiming for the next closest clones. His strength allowed him to send men flying
without having to use any special technique. He took down one more before being
engulfed by a wave of Clonus.

 

He concentrated on ignoring the pain of his beating. He had to hold on. He felt bones
being broken as the beating of a drum. He waited, holding on to the pain. He kept his
focus.

 

“You’re relentless, Tribe.” said Clonus. He came to the front of the crowd. “You just
take a beating and come back for more. I respect that, but I can’t have you following
me around. I have important villain stuff to do.”

 

Tribe channeled his beating into the speaking Clonus, reasoning that the controlling
brain was in there. The man screamed at the sudden pain wracking him. His clones
looked at him with surprise and bewilderment. The thin man shut down the link and
all the clones dropped to the floor in splashes of material.

[csyphrett]

6

Tribe wondered what he should do. Assault wanted Clonus to do something. He was
not going to be pleased if that didn’t happen.

 

On the other hand, he could tell the press he had captured Clonus and he was turning
the criminal in to the police. That would let Assault know he couldn’t use this pawn
to get what he wanted.

 

That would leave Assault free to get some other cat’s paw to carry out his scheme,
and get him what he wanted.

 

If he knew what Assault wanted, he could fake stealing it and turning it over.

Taking on Assault could be extremely dangerous, and he didn’t want to get killed
because he misread the other man.

 

Maybe he could bait some kind of trap.

 

He should call the authorities and let them bait the trap. He preferred to work on his
garden in the Dreamtime.

 

He frowned.

 

If he didn’t do something, Assault could keep trying until he got what he wanted. He
didn’t want that. The damage to the Dreamtime would be immense. It might not
recover.

 

He had to set the trap and capture the fugitive on his own. Then he could hand him
over to someone who could keep him locked up and away from people.

 

Part of a plan sprang into his mind. He just needed a way to get Assault somewhere
he could battle without hurting anything.

 

Assault had a reputation for using his powers at full power despite not needing to do
that.

 

Clonus’s phone rang. Tribe hesitated for a second. He picked it up and took the call.

 

“Yes,” said Tribe. He tried his best to imitate Clonus.

 

“Are you ready to move?,” asked the caller.

 

“Where and when,” said Tribe. He tried to stay as close to Clonus’s voice as he could.

 

“The pickup is a convoy that will be heading for the dock yards at nine,” said the
voice. “The prize is a little box in a truck marked 01956. The box will be marked
hyperspacial lens.”

 

“Where do you want it brought?,” asked Tribe. He tried to sound as much like Clonus
as he could.

 

“Take it to the usual place,” said Assault. “I will pick it up there.”

 

“All right,” said Tribe. “I will drop it off for you.”

 

“I want one of your clones guarding it until I can pick it up,” said Assault. “I want to
be sure it’s the right thing.”

 

“Guarding things costs extra,” said Tribe.

 

“That will be fine,” said Assault. “Get the lens and be at the meeting place. I will put
half of your charge into your account. How much do you want?”

 

“Ten percent,” said Tribe.

 

“Fine,” said Assault. He didn’t sound like it was fine. He sounded like someone
contemplating getting rid of his cutout instead of paying the money.

 

“I will meet you at the drop off at about ten,” said Tribe.

 

“I will be there,” said Assault. “Make sure you have it in hand when you get there.”

 

“You don’t have to worry about that,” said Tribe. “Your lens will be in your hands
almost as soon as I can grab it.”

 

Tribe cut the connection. He expected Assault to arrive to kill Clonus before the man
knew what happened. He also expected Clonus to present a clone so the rest of him
could make an escape.

 

Clonus would never risk a meeting with Assault if he couldn’t get away in some
fashion.

 

Now all he needed to know was where was the usual meeting place.

 

Clonus would know, but he doubted the multiplying menace would want to give that
up him.

 

He grabbed the side of Clonus’s skull. He sifted the contents as gently as he could.
Assault had known where his subordinate’s base was and had been given to dropping
in. Another meeting place was a spot in the center of the city near the city’s financial
district.

 

Tribe frowned at the implication. He had to meet Assault and take him before he did
anything destructive to the city. He also had to hold Clonus until he could be handed
over to the authorities.

 

He couldn’t let his mental grip on Clonus go. The villain would recover his ability
and try to escape. It also didn’t seem like a good idea to take him to the meeting.

He definitely could not take Clonus into the Dreamtime. That would cause too many
problems for that frame of reference.

 

He decided that he should take Clonus to the police and leave him with them.

It wasn’t the best solution, but he had no way to hold Clonus except to keep him
asleep. The police could do that better than he could.

 

Then he had to meet Assault. It would be better if ten of him met Assault, but he
didn’t have that ability in his repertoire. He would have to figure something out when
he reached the battlefield.

 

The first thing he needed to do was call the police and have them come to the house
and reclaim the stolen property. He could hand over Clonus then. Then he needed to
use the remaining time to get to the meeting with Assault.

 

He opened Clonus’s phone and called the emergency service. They would direct his
call to the appropriate response without making him jump through too many hoops.

 

“Emergency,” said the phone. “What is the nature of your problem?”

 

“I have captured a burglar and claimed his goods,” said Tribe. “I need powered
assistance.”

 

“What is your name?,” asked the operator.

 

“Tribe,” said Tribe.

 

“Is this some kind of joke?,” asked the operator.

 

“No,” said Tribe. “I am calling from the villain’s phone. I have captured him and
recovered the articles that he had stolen as far as I can tell.”

 

“Give me your address,” said the operator. “I’ll call the police and have them come
out there.”

 

Tribe gave her the address, a description of the house and for sale sign out front. She
asked him to stay on the phone and he did so. He checked Clonus every few seconds
to make sure he stayed knocked out.

 

He talked to the operator to report the arrival of the first policeman on scene. Once
his identity was confirmed, and the identity of his capture, a van was dispatched from
the Special Branch. It would have a cell that could hold Clonus in place until they had
him in a real prison cell.

 

Tribe waited until the van arrived. Once Clonus was locked down in the back, he
started back into the city on foot. He had to get to that meeting and talk to Assault.

Then he could go back to the Dreamtime and work on his garden in peace.

 

Tribe headed for the biggest road. Once he was there, he could hitch a ride into the
city. Then he could change transportation to get to the meeting place with Assault.

He reached an on-ramp and jogged up until he was on the shoulder of the road. He
felt stronger with the transient population all around him. Now he needed a ride.

 

He spotted a cargo van going his way. He waited for it to pass before jumping on the
back bumper. He pulled himself to the roof of the boxy cargo holder and sat down to
wait for his exit.

 

Tribe watched the signs. He spotted his coming up. He stood and waited for the right
moment. Then he jumped from the cargo truck, landed on the rail of the overpass, and
then dropped down to the street below. He landed lightly. He jogged toward his
destination, cutting through open areas where possible.

 

He wanted to be there before Assault got there. He didn’t want the villain ready for
him. He wanted to be in place and ready to spring on him when he showed up.

 

Tribe reached the courtyard. Tables with benches were placed around the edges of the
cobblestone platform. A small park surrounding the spot produced enough trees to
give him cover to wait. Several buildings hovered over the scene like giants.

 

He stood in the trees and waited. He still had time. The only problem he foresaw was
the possibility that Assault was watching the robbery. He would know something was
wrong if he knew that Clonus hadn’t did his part of the job.

 

A red flash sparked on the other side of the courtyard. A man in scarlet and gold
walked out of the trees. He paused when he didn’t see his employee.

 

“Clonus?,” asked Assault. He examined the small courtyard with suspicion.

 

“He couldn’t make it,” said Tribe. He stepped out of hiding. “Do you want to come
along quietly?”

 

“No,” said Assault. His eyes threw two lances of red fire at Tribe.

 

The thin man dodged to the right. The city supported him better because of the
location, but he still didn’t want to get burned to a crisp. The beams sliced through
one of the concrete benches easily.

 

Tribe reversed course as the beams swept after him. He leaped the beams and landed
almost within reach of the red ravager. Assault looked at him. Two holes blew
through his chest.

 

“I’ll have to settle with Clonus later,” said Assault. “At least you won’t be able to tell
anyone else about me.”

 

Tribe looked at the two holes through his chest. He looked at Assault. He punched
the man in the face. The cracking of bone rewarded him. He staggered forward. He
grabbed a leg trying to kick him away. He put Assault asleep with a mental yank of
his brain.

 

Tribe sat down on the cobbles. He closed his eyes. He started forcing the wounds to
heal so he wouldn’t evaporate into nothing like the Tribes before him.

 

Assault could wait the minutes this would take.

[csyphrett]

epilogue

Tribe smiled at the way his garden had grown. The turtles had been a big help as far
as he was concerned. He should have thought about calling on their help sooner than
this.

 

He had rebuilt his garden on stages. When the Dreamtime shook, his little place
should be all right. And the turtles guarded the edges of his spot from any intruders
as best they could.

 

He caused his ponds to connect the separate sections together. Fish emerged to swim
in the slow moving water. He nodded at their bright colors moving through the clear
streams.

 

He placed several trees to cast shadow over everything. The dream sun waxed and
waned, and so did the heat it produced. Shade provided a welcome respite.

Maybe he could create a slow wind. That would cool things a little too. He thought
about that as he set up a circle of rocks to meditate in when he wasn’t trying to
improve his little space.

 

He closed his eyes and thought about putting similar stone circles around the edges
of his garden. They would be good markers for the boundaries.

 

He pictured it in his mind. He just needed the right kinds of stone to mark his circles.
He might be able to shape them into replicas of animals to serve as his totems in the
spirit world of the Dreamtime.

 

The turtles hissed at something moving outside his little circle of influence. He went
to the edge to look at what had attracted their attention. He spotted the winged
shadow of a bunyip flying across the ephemeral sky.

 

Tribe watched the monster go about its business. As long as it kept away from him,
and didn’t hunt in the real world, he was content to let it go. He couldn’t kill every
monster in the Dreamtime. The place just spawned more to fill those gaps.

 

There had been a time when he had hunted bunyips, yowies, and other things across
the Dreamtime. He had decided to give that up. No matter how many he chased down,
there were always more. Now he just watched them and made sure they wouldn’t
cause him any mischief.

 

Tribe went back to the center of his space. He smiled at the way the garden looked.
He didn’t know how he could improve things. His vision was better than he dreamed.

He watched as the turtles settled in next to the streams. They didn’t seem to want to
move back into the Dreamtime. Usually they came and went. He frowned at the
behavior.

 

Then the birds arrived. He looked around at the dazzling colors. He scratched his
face. He had never seen so many birds settling in one place in the Dreamtime.

What was going on?

 

Trees sprouted for the smaller birds. Herons and water birds congregated around the
streams. They glared at him as he tried to figure out what to do.

 

Where were these animals coming from? He concentrated. His memory failed him.
He usually saw them moving at a distance. He noted that the streams were widening,
pushing the boundary of his space outward.

 

A crocodile the size of a tourist bus floated into the water way. It hung like a log
within reach of the other animals, but did nothing. Some of the birds used its head and
back for a perch.

 

Other Tribes appeared out of the Dreamtime. They mostly looked like him. He
frowned as they examined his space. What were they doing here?

 

“Hello, brother,” said the eldest of the other Tribes. “You have done wonders here.”

 

“What is going on?,” said Tribe. “I thought you had all evaporated into nothing.”

 

“We are always here in the Dreamtime,” said the eldest. “That is our legacy. It seems
you have done well.”

 

“This is the best I have been able to build the garden since I started,” said Tribe.
“Some trouble in the real world tends to ruin it when I have things half done.”

 

“The garden is not what we’re talking about,” said one of the other Tribes, holding
a staff of power in his hands. “You’ve saved the world, Stupid.”

 

“I don’t understand,” said Tribe.

 

“The lens you stopped the thieves from getting allows anyone with the right
equipment to open doors to other places,” said the eldest Tribe. “Some of those places
would have warped the Dreamtime, turned people into monsters, and ruined part of
the ecology of the world.”

 

“The authorities still have the lens to use as they see fit,” said Tribe. He looked at his
predecessors. “I haven’t really done anything.”

 

“They aren’t going to use it,” said the eldest. “They have a lot more sense than that.”

 

“They are storing it away from people like Assault,” said the next oldest. “Exposing
him also stopped a lot of mischief from happening.”

 

Tribe nodded. He realized suddenly why they were there. He had saved the
Dreamtime as well as the real world. And they wanted him to know how grateful they
were.

 

“Will this stay like this?,” he asked. He waved his arm to indicate the changed space
around them.

 

“Why would it?,” said the eldest. “You have to work a bit harder on the real world if
you want your garden to grow.”

 

“I have to work harder for my garden to grow?,” said Tribe.

 

“In the real world,” said the eldest. He waved his arm to encompass the Dreamtime.
“This place is created by reality wanting something more, perhaps trying out
something that hasn’t worked right yet. It is our duty to maintain it, but also to
maintain reality as best we can. That is why there is a Tribe, and why there always
will be a Tribe.”

 

“The humans have their own protectors,” said Tribe. “They don’t need me. My garden
needs me.”

 

“This is nothing without humans,” said the second eldest. He waved his staff.
Desolation stretched out on all sides from where they stood. The trees burned down
to spindly scarecrows. The birds and smaller mammals were ash. Turtle shells littered
the broken ground. The streams became dry channels. “This is what you stopped.”

He waved the staff again. Everything returned to normal like a painting being worked
on around them with invisible hands.

 

“You are nothing without the humans,” said the second eldest. He leaned on his staff.
“What do you think will happen if you do not answer the call when you hear it?”

 

“I understand,” said Tribe. “I don’t like it.”

 

“No one ever does,” said the eldest. He smiled. “You saved the world, and the
Dreamtime. What will you do next, guardian of reality and protector of humanity?”

 

“I don’t know,” admitted Tribe. “I think I will think on things for a while.”

 

“Remember that we will be watching you, brother,” said the eldest. “Don’t let us
down.”

 

The youngest of the other Tribes walked out of the garden first. Then the others one
by one. Some of them he knew, and had dealt with before they had evaporated. He
watched as his garden shrank with each departure.

 

The birds flew away first. He frowned at the sight of a loon walking on the water,
stepping on the crocodile, and then launching itself into the air. Other animals
trundled out of the space.

 

The additional trees shrank back into the ground. He watched as the roots pulled in
with the trunks.

 

The water dried up. The streams shrank into something only turtles would be happy
with bathing in sometimes. The long crocodile settled on its tiny limbs beside one of
the streams.

 

“That one is mine,” said the second eldest. “He is waiting for us to go home.”

 

“I do have one question,” said Tribe. “Why don’t any of you protect the real world?”

 

“Because once you are dead in the real world, you are only alive in the Dreamtime,”
said the second eldest. “And even then, you need a lot of thought to become real
again as we have to talk to you and encourage you.”

 

“You may never see us again,” said the eldest. “You will be the greatest of us if you
work at it.”

 

“A worthy successor,” said the second eldest. “Right now, you need a lot of work.”

“I will try to live up to your high expectations,” said Tribe.

 

“Good luck,” said the second eldest.

 

He walked across the grass, clucking at the crocodile. The monster huffed at him.
Then they walked out of the garden, fading away like the rest of the Tribes.

 

The eldest walked down through the garden, inspecting everything with his eyes.
The turtles hissed at him. He smiled back. He turned in a circle to take one last look
at the area.

 

“This is a good start,” he said. “A good start. A few more centuries, it will be great.”

 

“Do you really think so?,” asked Tribe.

 

“It might look like this,” said the eldest.

 

He raised his hand. A mountain of terraces turned around a waterfall leading to a
river into the Dreamtime. Animals that once existed, still existed, never existed
outside of a dream shared space on the mountain. Plants of every kind shared space
with the menagerie even when they shouldn’t. He lowered his hand and the dream
vanished.

 

“That was all a dream,” said the eldest.

 

He raised his hand again. A man, woman, and five children appeared. They wore
loincloths and paint. The man carried a spear and a boomerang. The woman carried
a club. She stood in front of her children. He dropped his hand to let the family
disappear.

 

“I saved those people,” said the eldest. “They were real. Their legacy continues today
in their descendants.”

 

“That made them important?,” said Tribe.

 

“No,” said the eldest. “They created the idea of us. That is what makes them
important.”

 

He turned and slipped away over the edge into the wilds of the Dreamtime. He waved
as he went.

 

“That’s a hard thing to consider,” said Tribe. One of the turtles hissed in reply. “I
know I will never have a garden as big as that.”

the end