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Daniel grabbed Ian by the shoulders and leaned close, looking into his eyes. The pupils were dilated. "You had your mask off for just a second. Did you inhale?"
Ian blinked. "I had my mask off?"
"Shit," Daniel pulled the map from Ian's pocket. "We have to get out of here, get to some fresh air. Which way do we go?" He opened the map and held it up. "We were facing this way, which tunnel do we take?"
Ian looked at the map and shook his head. "I have no idea. Where were we going?"
Panic washed over Daniel and he gave it a moment, then pushed it aside with a determined shake of his head. "Okay," He examined the map. Instead of simple Left and Right markings, there was a list with right angle marks and occasionally a diagonal dash to indicate turns and twists in the maze of rock and mold. He had no idea how far down the list they'd come, but Ian had mentioned they were very close to the exit.
"All right, let's say this mark here, that was the twist we did before coming to this point." He touched the map then looked up at the merged tunnels. "Look at those tunnels," he said to Ian. "Don't they look familiar?"
"No," he replied with a shake of his head. "I've never seen them before."
"Yes, you have," Daniel countered. "You told me you've been through here many times. You know the way out. You have to think!"
Ian looked at the map, frowning as he ran a finger down the list of directions. "What is this?"
"This," Daniel replied as he found a rock and scratched it along the side of the left most tunnel wall. "Is the act of a desperate man. Come on."
He took Ian by the arm and headed down the tunnel, praying he'd picked the right section of map to follow. Another turn to the left, then an angle to the right. So far, the available turns were matching the markings on the section he'd chosen.
"You couldn't possibly have inhaled enough to wipe out your memory," he said as he led the way along the strange path. "You would have held your breath, out of instinct if nothing else. And you put it right back on, I saw you."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm just talking," Daniel replied.
Another turn, this time an angle to the right, and he saw daylight opening up. A few yards further, and they broke out from the tunnels and into a wide open clearing spreading out to a lush, green field.
"Thank God," Daniel breathed as he moved further away from the mold-covered rocks.
Ian pulled off his mask and began to cough, but held up a hand when Daniel moved closer. He tossed his mask aside and sank to his knees. "What happened?"
"Do you remember where you are?" Daniel asked. "That man in the tunnels?"
Ian blinked, then squinted. "He pulled my mask off?"
"For a second, yeah."
"Shit." He put a hand to his head. "That was enough. Did I forget anything?" He glanced around, noting their location. "We made it out okay."
Daniel took off his pack and lowered himself to the ground, watching Ian. "You forgot the way, and couldn't remember what the map was for."
"I did?" Ian looked surprised.
Daniel reached out and took Ian's pulse, then checked his eyes again. The pupils were back to normal, and his heart rate was only reflecting normal physical exertion. "Yes, you did. But you seem okay now." He handed over the map. "Do you recognize this?"
"Yeah, that’s the map through the maze."
"So I guess a brief amount is temporary, but immediate," Daniel mused. "That man in there, the one who ran away, how long can he survive?"
Ian pulled off his pack and got comfortable on the grass. "The mold won't kill him," he replied. "If he finds food and water, he'll live as long as he'll live. He might even find his way out, or someone else will find him and have better luck than we did."
"No one sends search parties in for the lost?"
"He could have gone in there this morning, or an hour before we found him. Could be no one realizes he's missing yet."
"But we know," Daniel insisted. "We know he's in there, and he's lost, and in trouble."
"And you saw how quickly we could both join him," Ian countered. "If he's off the path, he could be anywhere in this mountain range by now." He waved an arm. "It extends the entire length, east and west. Where do you suggest we look?"
Daniel cursed under his breath.
"I tried," Ian continued. "If he hadn't freaked out, we could have led him out and found him some help, but his mind is gone. I was lucky, but one full inhale of that stuff, and there's no cure. No going back. Once a mind is lost, it's lost."
"How do you feel now?"
Ian shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "Fine."
"Do you remember what happened? What it felt like? Any dizziness or nausea?"
He shook his head. "No, I don't. I remember that guy hitting my mask, then being out here. The ground stopped spinning a few minutes ago."
Daniel glanced back at the tunnels. "Ultra-fast acting, and immediate reversal. I really should take some of that back for study."
"No way, not without an air-tight container, and I don't have one on me, do you?"
Daniel huffed, relenting, then noticed the leaves in their canisters. "These things must neutralize the mold spores in some way. They're worth studying."
Ian stood slowly and pointed to a thick bush growing a few yards away. "Take all you like. I'll dump these, they're spent." He took Daniel's mask and unscrewed the canister, then did the same with his own and walked to the side of a boulder where he dumped them out, careful not to let them take flight on the breeze blowing in from the north.
Daniel gathered up a few leaves and stuffed them in his backpack, then looked back at the tunnels once more. He was fighting the urge to reload his gas mask and go back inside to find that man, but logic told him Ian was right. Without knowing where he'd gone, and lacking a full and organized search party, would mean putting them at risk with little to no hope of success.
"We'll go a few miles north then make camp," Ian said as he put his pack back on. "There's an orchard we can shelter in, and the fruit is in season."
"How far to the castle?"
"We'll be there in the morning."
Daniel resisted the urge to look at the tunnels again and followed Ian north, into a wide open field of tall, wispy grass. The sun was close to setting, but the air was warm now and the ground dry and firm. Not long after they started out, the leading edge of an orchard could be seen in the distance. Daniel took the threes to be about the size and shape of a generic apple variety, but even from a distance the bright red color of the leaves was clear.
"Do these farms supply the castle?" He asked, trying hard to push out thoughts of the naked man lost in the tunnels.
"And the village," Ian replied.
Daniel nodded, glancing to the east and west. It was harder to see in the dimming light of dusk, but the orchard didn't appear to be all that wide. "Let me guess, this village stretches to the mountains on either side?"
Ian glanced at him, eyebrows furrowed. "Yes, it does. With the castle itself right in the center, furthest north with the foothills at its back."
Just like Murphy's map. "This place is strangely layered, with those mountains acting as a border all around," he commented. "Does anyone go over the mountains, to the other side?"
"They go into the mountains, to mine fire and ice, as well as the others," Ian replied with a shrug. "I've been there a few times to ferry loads. The pay's good when you can get the work."
They were in the orchard now, and Ian picked a large tree with nice, flat ground all around to make camp.
"As for going over the mountains, I've never been, myself. They go on as far as the eye can see, and as far as I know, they just keep going."
"You can't be suggesting the entire planet is covered in mountains, save this one section here?" Daniel asked as he helped gather wood for a fire. "Is Ether the name of this planet, or just this populated mountain bowl?"
Ian looked puzzled. "Ether is Ether," he replied. "The castle, the village, this orchard, the maze, the swamp, the forest, the farmlands, the city, and the mountains all around us. It's all Ether."
Daniel leaned against the tree while Ian got a fire going. It was too dark now to tell what type of fruit was growing above him, but the red leaves now looked pitch black in the rising moonlight.
"Your people have a surprisingly lack of curiosity," he commented with a sigh.
"Or maybe we just now what's important and what isn't," Ian countered. He pulled some smoked worm meat from his pack and set it next to the fire to heat up. "Do you think finding out what's inside the black fog would help us, or hurt us? We already know whoever, or whatever lives there will take any opportunity to shoot down a ship passing overhead. And those who've gone down have never come out. What good can come from a place like that?"
Daniel shrugged. "Obviously you'll never know unless you find out. Maybe it is unsafe, and can never be explored. But why has no one found a safer way through the swamp? Or something that can repel the Tree? Why do you cross through a maze that people can get lost in, or lose their minds, without finding a cure to the mold or a safer way to cross from one side to the other?"
"Very few people ever do cross," Ian replied. "Those who live in the forest, never leave. The people in the village rarely leave, unless, like me, they're forced out. The city dwellers have no desire to ever move to the village where the royal court hold direct sway." He checked the meat, then handed some to Daniel. "Let me ask you, then, if all of Otherworld has been explored, is it all safe? Can you travel from one corner to the next without fear of natural dangers? Even your massive oceans are completely safe and easy to cross?"
Daniel huffed and gave in with a shrug. Ether's landscape was like an episode of the Twilight Zone, as if it was all really a child's playground carved out of the sandbox in someone's backyard. Mountains all around an hourglass-shaped bowl with layers of bizarre regions separating two large cities. He half expected a giant hand to reach down at some point and rearrange the trees in the orchard, or drop a circus clown in the middle of the field, for no particular reason.
They ate, then got comfortable for the night with the warm fire and quietness of the orchard a nice respite from the dangers of the swamp and near-fatal trek through the maze. Daniel tried hard not to think of the man lost and naked, running around with no memory or hope of rescue. Instead, he thought about his uncle and those trips he'd spoken of when Daniel was a boy.
He tried to imagine his uncle here, in Ether, meeting the people he'd met, seeing the things he'd seen so far. Would it have been different if he'd known about the key before he used it? Would he be experiencing this strange and impossible land in another way, had he come through on purpose?
And how had Uncle Frank come upon the key himself? Did he know what it was when he used it the first time, or had his debut experience been like Daniel's, fraught with confusion, disbelief and danger.
Maybe that was how each owner of a key had to experience Ether, like it was part of a package deal. That would explain his uncle's lack of explanation.
Unless he really didn't mean for me to have the key, Daniel mused.
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The next morning they walked through the orchard, breakfasting on the round, red fruit. It was an apple as far as Ian was concerned, but Daniel could taste a hint of banana mixed in with the otherwise familiar flavor.
The orchard was beautiful, and well maintained with nary a weed growing amid the fruit-bearing trees. Though they never did see the owner during their crossing, Ian assured him they wouldn't be considered trespassers. No one stole more than they needed to eat at the moment, and it was unheard of to damage the trees. Though Ether wasn't void of crime, it remained confined to the people of the village and the city. In the village, royal guard kept the peace, and in the city, Murphy was in charge.
"Although he enforces the king's rule, it's a lot more lax in the city," Ian explained. "That's why those living there rarely make the journey here."
"But you were born in the village?"
He nodded. "Yes, so was my father, and his father before him. As far as I know, I'm the first of my family line to ever leave the village. Definitely the first to be declared guilty of treason."
"They must be so proud."
Ian huffed. "Luckily, they're all gone. I never had siblings because my mother died giving birth, and my father didn't remarry. Then he passed the year I became the king's guard."
"I'm sorry," Daniel offered. "My parents were killed in a car accident when I started college."
"Did they believe your uncle when he talked about coming here?"
Daniel blinked, trying to recall any time the subject might have come up. He'd be sent to his uncle's farm every summer, left there to adventure with his cousins for two months, then fly back to whatever base his father was stationed at. Uncle Frank was his father's youngest brother, but they didn't spend much time together. Even the holidays were nothing more than a phone conversation and well-wishes.
"I doubt it, very much," he replied, surprised by his realization. "I think I knew Uncle Frank better than his brothers did."
"That's family for you," Ian replied. He pointed ahead. "And that's the wall to the village."
They were clear of the orchard now, and facing a massive grey stone structure that spanned out in both directions as far as the eye could see. It was imposing, but not as tall as the buildings it protected, some of which could be seen poking out from above.
Along the length were pipes, dripping with water that emptied into a culvert draining off to the east. And dotting the solid surface here and there were openings that ended in a small guard house on both the ground level and the wall's uppermost section.
"Not every guard house is manned," Ian explained. "We can find one empty, take the stairs, and get into the village easily enough. Getting into the castle will be another story entirely."
"You said you have friends in the village?"
"I do, and I'm counting on them to get us inside." Ian nodded toward the guard tower to their left. "That one's empty."
"How do you--" Daniel saw a guard step out of the small building to their right, then wave to someone in the distance. To his left, standing just outside the guard house further down, passed the one Ian indicated, a uniformed man waved in reply.
"Visual check, every half hour," Ian explained as he started for the unoccupied building. "Either this guy's asleep, or it's empty. Seeing as how falling asleep on duty gets you sent to the swamp, my money says empty."
They waited until the guards had returned to the comfort of their little buildings, then crossed the open space quickly. Inside the open guard house Daniel noticed a comfortable chair, a radio with an old fashioned microphone and a handful of dials, shelves holding a few books and empty food wrappers, and an empty clipboard.
Beyond that was a door, unlocked, that Ian pushed open and stepped through.
"It's a climb, but we won't run into anyone. This guard house won't be used again until tomorrow, so no reason for a guard to come down."
"For a place that's well-guarded, this place isn't very well guarded," Daniel replied as they started up a narrow bank of stone stairs.
"It's all relative. They don't really care who comes and goes in the village, and if I wasn't with you, you could easily have gone up to a guard and just walked on by. But if they recognized me, they'd be obligated to arrest me."
"Like Murphy did?"
"Yeah, sorta. Only if they did it, I'd end up in the castle dungeon and probably stay there a good sixty years," Ian replied. "Murphy just does it to piss me off. And cover his ass, should anyone happen to take notice, which they never do."
Daniel glanced up as they crossed a landing and started climbing the other direction. The stairs continued in a switchback formation until vanishing from sight in the darkness above, but soft lights along the walls lit their way well enough, and there was a cooling breeze wafting down from above.
Still, the climb took the better part of two hours, and he was again cursing his state of physical fitness when they reached the top.
He'd been imagining a waterslide would be an appropriate descent, but realizing that would be a waste of water if used all along the village wall, he decided a simple slide of standard construct would be more practical.
Or an elevator, like that used onboard the Myst.
For some reason, the good people of Ether who'd thought to construct this massive wall of protection hadn't thought of either, so facing Daniel at the top of the climb, was another equally difficult set of stairs in the opposite direction.
"No wonder security is so lax," he said as he struggled to maintain his composure and balance on the way down the stairs. "No one in their right mind would do this if they didn't have to."
Part way down, one of the stairwell landings opened up to the outside, affording the traveler a view of the village below and a place to pause and catch their breath. Daniel found himself looking out over an expanse of buildings that resembled a village in the same way the forest worms resembled the bait he used to dig up in his uncle's back yard.
There were houses and factory-styled buildings stretching on for miles that ranged from single story to large complexes with a least thirty floors, all made of grey cement and green glass from the look of them. Houses stood next to tall buildings that spewed steam from massive stacks on their rooftops, while green spaces provided breathing room between blocks, and open markets sprawled out over every street. As he looked closer, he realized the streets were actually for pedestrians and shoppers, and flying around the buildings about five stories up were extremely small versions of the Myst.
"Taxis," Ian explained when Daniel pointed to one. "See the light poles? You flick on a switch if you need a ride, and the next available taxi will stop for you."
That was when Daniel noticed the taller buildings had docks jutting out from their balconies on the fifth story. "What about the taller buildings? More stairs?"
"They're factories, so they have lifts along with stairs. That's where ships are constructed, building materials put together, food is processed. Farmers store their goods in the large warehouses, bakers work their magic. Then everything is sold and marketed below, in the open shops."
Daniel estimated the village could house a million, easily. "No cars?"
"Not in the village," Ian continued as he turned and started back down the stairs. "Farmers use trucks to bring their goods to the outer buildings, they're the biggest storage facilities. From there the bakers, cooks, restaurant owners and shop keepers buy what they need and transport it to their own factories or shops."
It looked like something out of Dickens, mixed with Venice and dropped into down town LA, but with clean air and a lack of car horns and boom boxes.
"This isn't what I was expected when you said Village," Daniel replied. "I'd call this a city just for size alone."
Ian shrugged. "I suppose these days it could be. Back when my grandfather was a young boy, it wasn't a quarter this size. Or so he always said. But if you believed half of his stories, you'd think no one had invented shoes."
Daniel laughed. "That's typical."
The rest of the conversation had to wait for lack of breath, as both men found the descent nearly as rigorous as the climb had been. Different muscles were needed to go down flights of stairs, so that by the time they reached the street level, Daniel was recalling boot camp as a fond memory.
No one took notice of two men coming off the wall's staircase, so they casually crossed the bordering street and merged into the crowded open market. There the pace was slowed, only partly due to the other noon-time shoppers picking up lunch and planning the evening meals.
Ian paused at a vendor's stall and bought them each bottled water and some fruit, then led Daniel to a park where other folk were enjoying the sunny day.
"We'll go see a couple I know and stay the night, see what we can find out," Ian explained as they found an empty bench. "But they're three miles east of here, and I figured we could use a rest."
"I can't feel my legs," Daniel quipped.
"Martha has a great salve for that. She and her husband, Bert, owned one of the best bakeries in the entire village, up until they retired a few years back. Now their sons run the place and it's gone downhill, in my opinion." Ian shook his head. "Bert says they lack a love of the business. And he'll be more than happy to tell you all about it."
"I don't suppose they believe in Otherworld?"
"Actually, they do." Ian huffed. "They claim to have met visitors on more than one occasion. Hell, for all I know, they knew your uncle."
Daniel looked up, mid-bite of the banana-apple fruit. A polite upbringing forced him to wait until he'd properly swallowed before he could speak. "Seriously? They've met people from my world?"
Ian shrugged. "They say they have. Hell, even I'm starting to question things. I've met nutjobs before, you know, and usually you can trip them up."
"So you're saying you believe me now?"
"I'm saying--" Ian tossed his apple rind into a trash can behind their bench and sighed. "I'm saying you were a damn fine sport on that worm hunt. And when I blacked out in that maze, you obviously kept your head and got us both out." He shrugged. "I'd hate to think you really are nuts, after all that."
Daniel laughed, then tossed his apple rind. "Well, so far you're every bit the trustworthy man Murphy said you were. I'd hate to think you're really just a figment of my imagination."
They sat a few more minutes, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the rest the benches provided. Park visitors wandered by, nodding politely when eye contact was made, occasionally offering a good day or smile. There were children playing on the grass to their left, and directly in front of them a vendor selling flavored confections was enjoying a boon of noon time business.
If it weren't for the occasional flying taxi cab, the massive factories belching white steam from their roofs, or the huge wall still visible to their right, Daniel could have imagined himself sitting quietly in a park downtown Seattle, or San Diego, for that matter.
The style of clothing worn seemed perfectly in line with anything he'd seen before, if not slightly retro in a re-imagining of the 1930's way. Several of the men wore knee-length leather coats, nearly identical to the ones he and Ian had been carrying since the stair climb. The only thing that felt out of place was a lack of car noise.
Thirty minutes later, they decided if they didn't get up and start walking now, their legs most likely wouldn't allow it until morning.
The trek at least was level, and along the paved walkway between vendor shops and small parks. Occasionally a cab would fly overhead and Daniel couldn't help but stare.
"They're like miniature versions of the Myst," he commented as another flew by, silent save the laughter from the occupants and the whiff-whiff of spinning paddles pushing it through the air on a jet of white steam.
"They are, basically," Ian replied. "Same design, just for day use. No hold or cabins. Using them would be easier than walking if it weren't for the fact that a lot of those drivers know me."
"Just my luck."
Several blocks down, they made a left turn onto a slightly quieter street, where vendors hauled crates of goods from the lower floors of the factory buildings. Daniel noticed the general mood of the villagers seemed polite and quite genial, always smiling or offering a nod if they made eye contact with you, much like the town his uncle had called home.
Two blocks of walking in the shade of the taller factories and they made another change in direction, coming back out to the full sun and full streets of clothing vendors. Around a corner and they were among the sellers and buyers of household goods and furniture.
"Martha and Bert were loyal to King Frederick," Ian said as they walked. "They tolerate Stefan only to keep out of trouble and off the radar of the royal guard. That's how I'm able to stay with them whenever I'm here. They're not too happy about his rule, but they're careful never to speak their minds in public."
Right about the time Daniel's legs were going to insist he go on without them, Ian stopped at the door of a rather large house and knocked.
"They're a nice older couple, who've vowed to skin me alive if I ever come to the village without stopping here for a few nights," Ian explained as they waited.
Daniel heard voices inside, muffled through the heavy wooden door, then saw the knob turn. The woman who opened it wasn't looking at them, however. She was busy wiping her hands on an apron around her waist and shouting back at someone further inside the home.
". . . and get your dinner ready, to boot!" She turned and saw Ian, and her face lit up. "Ian Foster, it's about time you came back to visit this old lady!"
The older woman who embraced Ian was slightly short, with that roundness of most immigrant grandmothers. Her yellow and blue dress was lightly covered in flour, and the apron around her waist looked like a permanent part of the outfit.
When she released her grip, she pushed graying hair from her eyes and turned to Daniel.
"And who's this, then? Another stray you're leading out of --"
Daniel blinked as he found himself being stared at in awed silence. He reached out a hand. "Hello, I'm --"
"Harper," she declared. "You're one of Frank's boys."
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