Years ago, I was a part of a group of friends I'm pleased to still keep in touch with to this day. We were members of the University of Minnesota Gaming Society and the Fantasy Role Playing Games Association ... or "UMGS" and "FRPGA" for short. We would meet twice weekly to talk, socialize and play games of all types. Then, one day while mowing my mother's lawn, an idea came to me. Actually, it was a sentence ... and it needed fleshing out. But from those few words, "The Mad Penguin sat in the darkened cockpit of the Dreamer's Folly..." sprung an idea that I've adored ever since. I would put forth a story -written by members of UMGS and FRPGA- that starred those self-same members in a semi-alternate-Universe setting of Science Fiction. I began by writing the first installment, followed by other members who quickly warmed to the surreal idea. We ranged from serious SF to pulp fiction to comic books to Anime to comedy and back again. It was a great amount of fun... And, for the first time on the web, here it is...

In The Dreamstate: Part Three
by Todd Clasen

Wondrous are the dreams of a god. He felt himself at the center of all reality. Lines of power and awareness, for the two were one and the same, radiated outward from His form to connect with all things in existence. Perhaps it was time to assume, once more, a physical body and walk amongst the mortals. The image of a large, humanoid hare sprang to mind, complete in the outfit He had always liked. A few changes were necessary for the sake of variety, but not many. After all, the form was His favorite. Or He could merely remain here where, with but a whim, He could cause ripples of His will to cascade down a particular link and bring about whatever changes He desired. But whimsies could be fulfilled later, for now He merely wished to bask in the flood of knowledge and power flowing through His mind. Ah, such were the dreams of a god.

"And we've noticed distinct signs of improvement in this case," Doctor Fischer informed the visitor as he peered through the observation window overlooking the catatonic patient attached to a multitude of life support equipment. "The chemical imbalance within his brain is lessening. I've ordered removal of much of his support equipment, since his situation no longer warrants their use."

Mister Coslett turned from the window as she concluded, a frown in place. "I thought recovery in a case of drug overdose such as this, particularly with the exotic drugs found in his system, was impossible. He was in a vegetative state."

"Occasionally there are recoveries, especially with the new advances pioneered at the Proxima Research Center."

"I see. Thank you for your time, doctor." Coslett's face was dead calm as he left. Doctor Fischer muttered something about nosy imperial watchdogs under her breath and went back to her rounds.

"Agent Ditty here. No, the other one. We're at the spaceport now. He should be arriving any time now."

The speaker, dressed in a dark suit and sunglasses, clicked off his communicator and turned to his partner. "Keep an eye open." His partner, a mirror image, nodded and continued his watch, scanning the spaceport arrival dock carefully. He noticed a robotic bear dressed in an outmoded fishing outfit passing out candy to children and looked elsewhere. Shortly the bear moved on.

Imperial Intelligence Agent Clish reached his car and began removing his bear disguise. The problem with being one of the best spies in the galaxy was a lack of vacation time. After an intensive undercover mission infiltrating the system-wide Boyden drug cartel in the Chalker Worlds sector and bring about its downfall, he thought he deserved one. Finally he could relax at home for the first time since... he couldn't remember how many months.

Unfortunately, his vidComm activated, on a scrambled line, the moment he entered his apartment. The image was that of his perpetual scowling superior, Dennis Coslett. No escape now, Monty thought.

"Agent Clish, you managed to miss your contacts at the spaceport. Why was this? Don't bother answering, I can guess. I had the thought to give you some downtime, but something very important has reared its sinuous head." He stopped momentarily to consult another viewscreen before returning his attention to Monty. "You'll find the information you need in your safe, but I'll give you a rundown on the basics now. Two day-cycles ago, a patient vanished from the McCoy-Crusher Medical Research Institute. The patient was Jason Theis, a former government think-tank member. Two year-cycles ago, he suffered from a drug overdose of some very exotic alien hallucinogens which placed him in a vegetative state. It was believed he would never recover. I was recently informed of a change in his condition, and he is now recovering. The trouble arising is that he's missing. A small group of very skilled, very well equipped commandos kidnapped him. We can not allow someone with the information he possesses to fall into hostile hands. You must recover him, and quickly. Coslett out."

Some hours later, Money finished reading the hidden information. Apparently, Theis had been involved in some major project at the time of his collapse. Details were sketchy, not due to lacking any security clearance, but the project thesis had not been recorded.

Monty decided a visit to Jason's old apartment was in order. An hour later, Monty was beginning to get annoyed. Apparently, Theis' apartment suffered a fire shortly after his overdose. Very convenient, he thought.

Monty's profession had long ago instilled in him a sense of danger, and he felt it now. So much so that he dived for cover just in time to dodge a hail of plasma. A momentary sense of panic hit Monty, but he controlled it. Whoever was shooting at him was using heavy military ordnance. He rolled behind a parked bubble-car with his weapon drawn. A quick flip of a switch enabled the gun to discharge its battery in one shot, a shot which took out the sniper along with a large chunk of the building roof he was on. Monty quickly moved to another location and reloaded, but sheathed his weapon when no further attacks occurred. Things are getting very serious, Monty thought as he returned home.

Coslett frowned in annoyance as his private line buzzed. The automatic scans identified it as Senator Widerski using a scrambled line. Dennis canceled readout of additional information. His sense of completeness demanded such information as place of call, time, caller's ID, along with various psych and physical scans; all done with the caller's lack of knowledge, of course. A brief bio of relevant info popped up on the screen next to Widerski's image. Aha, a junior senator in Comeau's camp, he thought. God, I wish people would stop going through intermediaries and just do things directly; but of course if they did my job would be too simple. "Yes, what can I do for you, Senator Widerski?"

Senator Widerski looked a bit surprised but started his speech. "You know of the current situation on CoMann's world." When Coslett scowled, Bob continued. "Some senators are worried about sympathy within the senate for the rebels. I want you to place your best agent on the task of rooting out these traitors. On a further note, I can introduce some amendments to the budget to avert any budget cuts in the coming cycle. After all, we need an efficient intelligence service, especially now."

Coslett's grimace deepened. Bribes, Comeau's going so far as to authorize bribes, he thought. He leaned back in his synth- leather chair and contemplated his options before responding. "All right Senator, you'll have your agent. I expect those amendments to pass the full Senate. Coslett out." As Widerski's image clicked out, he returned to his musings. It was simple enough to expand the investigation of the senators he had previously ordered by force of habit to include Clish. One more agent, especially a loner, wasn't going to upset things. There were a few agents easily transferred to replace Clish on his current assignment, so there was no problem there.

The fact that someone in the Senate would attempt to bribe him was much more serious. He almost considered letting the Emperor know, but decided against it. Emperor Timothy the First was off at the empire's far fringes threatening yet more planets into joining the empire. Another, far simpler, solution came to mind. It was time to initiate a full investigation of Senator Robert Widerski. Everyone had illegalities hidden in their past, or at least spots for ones to be added. But tacit bribery of Imperial Intelligence was not to be allowed, as least not since he took over from the previous, corrupt directors. The downfall of Widerski would send the proper, reinforcing note that I.I. was not to be threatened or bribed. Yes, that would do quite nicely, Dennis thought as he twisted the gold chain around his neck. He watched the light reflect off the cross on the end and thought about his plans.

Senator Widerski breathed a sigh of relief as the image of the Director of Imperial Intelligence vanished from his CommScreen. He allowed himself a brief moment of relaxation. Things were moving so rapidly now. He knew that Paul had planted or left unearthed information on other senators. When Coslett's agent came across that information, those senators would be disgraced and the majority would resign, or at least lose a great deal of influence. That would clear the way for the elevation of Paul and his faction. Bob had to pull quite a few favors to be able to carry out his part of the bargain with Coslett, but it would probably be worth it in the end. Still, dealing with the director bothered him.

Few people dealt with him, given his fanaticism and unpredictable reactions. But, Paul had sent him a vidmessage requesting Clish to be put on the task of rooting out the senators. That was simple enough: request the best I.I. Agent and you would naturally get Clish. Bob could also understand Paul's reasoning. Clish was an old, old friend of Paul's; and if things became troublesome, he could most likely be counted on. Still, the situation bothered Bob, Clish might be too good. It might be good to keep an eye on him, discretely of course. If he became too much trouble, his agent could remove Clish. With that in mind he carefully placed a call to an old, reliable friend.

Things were getting very delicate, Monty thought. The remains of the assassin were found by the police. A bit of discrete checking revealed the assassin's name and Monty ran some background checks. He also gained some additional details from Theis' kidnapping. Information was piling up, all that was needed now was sorting and tying it all together. One - the kidnappers escaped in a black hover-van. One died in the escape and turned out to be a professional mercenary and former imperial soldier. Two - the assassin was also a soldier, coincidentally in the same subgroup as the kidnapper. The two had apparently been good friends. After leaving the service, the assassin had become a professional bodyguard, and a highly regarded one at that. A list of former clients ran the gamut from Megacorp execs to imperial senators, including Senator Comeau. The last was all the more interesting in the fact of Monty's sudden reassignment.

A check with the bodyguard's last employer revealed that he had left his job some two week-cycles previous, citing a previous commitment. Three - the apartments of both men had been picked clean of anything even remotely incriminating. Although neither owned a black hover-van, the merc could, presumably, gain access to that and whatever weaponry they needed. Four - just when the case started getting involved, he was suddenly reassigned to investigate rebel affiliated senators. The senator requesting him was in Comeau's camp. Comeau was the major force behind crushing the rebellion on CoMann's world. Fifth - the truth of Theis' research.

Monty had pieced together the basic premise from interviews with other analysts working in the same think-tank the think-tank researchers were investigating possible threats to the Empire. Theis' research involved methods of destabilizing the Empire. He had apparently finished his thesis before the overdose. The details of that overdose along with the disappearance of all traces of his work was very suspicious. Hypothesis - if the Empire broke up, key senators, given sufficient backing, could take control of the splintered sectors. Mercenaries could provide very efficient support in such a case. A rebellion could set the stage for destabilization. How to carry out this hypothesis Monty couldn't imagine. But he had no doubt that Theis knew, and whomever now possessed his thesis.

Monty couldn't go to Coslett with the information, he was probably involved. It was time to drop out of sight. Perhaps others might consider him a rogue, but Monty had to deal with this situation by himself, he couldn't trust very many, certainly no one in the Senate, Imperial Intelligence, or even the military. But there was one place he could go to learn more information and to hide. He arranged for a secure message to be sent to Michelle Erin and then gathered the things he would need. It had been a long time since he had visited an exotic brother in Scumtown, he mused as he slipped out into the night.

General Taylor leaned back in her chair as he read of the developments in her contingency plan. Just in case Paul's plot collapsed, things were now being arranged to place the evidence behind it squarely on him. It was easy enough to gain access to his communication lines while he was sleeping. A brief message to this person or that sufficed for setting most of the details into motion. Careful editing using his own programs eliminated most traces of those communications, leaving only the evidence she desired. If Paul's plan worked, the I.I. agent Clish could be eliminated; if not... well, generals always needed an escape plan. She eliminated the message file and went back to working on her next task. Soon she would have everything, or at least a lot fewer rivals.

Mark was tense. It all seemed far too easy. They knew from tight beam satellite transmissions that P.Y.V. had reached the capital. In a very short time, F.R.P. would reach the city. That was the trouble nagging the tactician. It was too east. Even assuming rebel ineptitude, the resistance they were encountering was too... token. Then it dawned on Mark. How could he have not foreseen such a situation, he thought as he quickly looked over screens of readouts. It was all a token defense. The rebels wanted the city taken, but why? Possibilities ran through his mind as sweat beaded on his forehead. A trap, could they have left bombs in the city to destroy the invaders? The carrier shook slightly, whether from running over an obstacle or a hit was uncertain.

Mark glanced over at Todd. He was engrossed, as usual, in working with the computers. One of the cleaning robots was purring away near him. As Mark went back to his screens, he noticed Todd casually reach down and pat the robot on its top. It responded a strange clicking noise and went back to work. A shudder ran down Mark's back and he quickly looked away.

Contentment reached Todd. He spared himself a moment to glance at the departing robot before checking the retest results. A smile creased his face as he thought of the busy robot. However, he had to finalize the updates to the program module before looking after the robots. The retest results showed the program to be ready for use. All he needed now was to download into the city admin system. Of course, he could only theorize what the results would be. While computer sabotage was nothing new, this program was quite unique. AI programs could achieve a fair degree of sophistication, but nothing like this. Of course, normal researchers didn't have his unusually close empathy with machines or the rather exotic method of creating a program such as this. It was a source of continued disappointment to him that he could no longer conduct such research. No more programs such as this could ever be created now. He blamed himself for that though, for he had been rather careless about the disappearances of his various assistants. Nothing provable, but the suspicion was enough to bring it to a halt. Still, the research had resulted in one successful result, and opened the door for achieving his ultimate goal.

He stopped in his work for a moment as the thrill of his accomplishments washed over him. All he needed now to carry out his next plan was money, and that was something he gained in great measure working for the Penguin. It was the sole reason he jeopardized himself this way. Very soon he would be able to return to research on his own. A whirring by his chair caught his attention and he glanced down at the robot waiting there. He reached down, patted it to reassure it that everything was all right, and sent it on its way. Then he picked up the waiting SCOTT module and replaced it in his belt-holder. Yes, it would prove interesting indeed to see the reaction the module would have on the city control computers.

The tapping on the console distracted Mark, so he made an effort to calm himself. I fell for it, he thought. It all came together now as he realized their predicament. Still, their current course of action was the best. Once in the city, they could join up with P.Y.V. and defend the city from the coming assault. He glanced over the various defense strategies he had worked out and nodded. They would have to do. His back ached in protest as he straightened up. Glancing quickly at Todd, Mark moved to join Dan at the carrier controls.

The strains of Enya's "The Celts" played accompaniment to the jostling of the carrier as Dan piloted the multi-ton vehicle into the city. If Todd was driving, he would have insisted on something morbid and downbeat, or at least Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries," but Dan wanted something more peaceful and upbeat as he drove into battle. Mark collapsed into the co-pilot's chair as Dan turned into the docking bay.

"You know we're being set up. They let us through their lines in order to cut us off. We don't have long before they counter-attack to retake the city." Dan just shrugged at Mark's statements and pulled the carrier into a berth.

"We'd better get into our gear," Dan responded. "I've sent a subgroup to see to the recovery of the ambassador's transport ships. If nothing else, their orders are to destroy them, you know the objectives." Mark just gazed out the rain slick window and sighed.

The three leaders of F.R.P., or two leaders and technician as Mark thought of them, plodded down the access hallway from the vehicle bay. The two subgroups assigned had already secured the area. Others had left to carry out the assignments that both Dan and Mark had ordered. The city must be secured quickly, and remaining rebels neutralized, and defenses prepared for the coming attack. Mark strangely took the lead, as if eager to locate P.Y.V. and gain a modicum of safety. Todd was in the rear, followed by three of the cleaning robots. Mark had argued that they should be left in the vehicle, but Todd insisted that they accompany him. Too much dirt, he had said. Not wanting to waste time better spent locating the other group, Mark gave in, hoping they would rust to pieces.

Now the leaders plodded through the corridors in their environmental suits, heading towards the center of the city. It was there that they expected to encounter the other assault group. Todd's white suit stood out in contrast to the other grayish ones. No one was exactly sure how it remained so white given all the battles it had seen, but it did. Majority speculation was that Todd had gotten Jim Felling to develop a dirt repeller with which to impregnate it, but Jim hadn't confirmed this. Mark jumped at a hissing noise behind him and spun to see one of Todd's robots spraying a fine mist into the air around it.

"What that... Clasen, if they're coming with us you better keep them quiet!" he hissed through his Comm-unit.

"It was just coating itself with a bit of waxing compound Mark, you wouldn't want it to rust would you?" Todd responded with a hint of a smile.

Mark muttered and turned to discover two rebels had just rounded the corner with weapons drawn. He responded naturally, he surrendered. Dan shrugged and handed over his weapons.

It was apparent to Mark the rebels were trying to figure out what to do with them. The F.R.P. leaders had allowed themselves to be prodded into a small room where the rebels kept them under guard while talking amongst themselves. Mark regretted now the fact he didn't assign a subgroup to accompany the three of them, but everyone had been needed elsewhere. He glanced at his two comrades in captivity. Dan was doing his best to relax - nothing out of the ordinary there. Todd, on the other hand, was reacting quite strangely. Mark would swear the normally reserved scientist was frightened almost to the point of death. He just stared, wide-eyed, at the guns of the two rebels. Something about this rang a bell in the back of Mark's mind, but he couldn't remember just now. Maybe he could use the emergency channel in his suit's Comm-unit to call for help. The problem was that the two rebels could pick up the signal, if not the message, and kill them on the spot. It was at this point that Todd freaked out.

"No! You can't kill me," he yelled as he bolted up and back against a wall. His eyes darted this way and that looking for a way out. The two rebels assumed combat stances and kept their energy weapons trained on the three captives. Suddenly one screamed and fell to his knees, the lower part of his right leg having been burned off by a welding torch. The other dropped his weapon and clawed at his face as a stream of organic dissolvent. Mark leapt to his feet and grabbed the dropped weapons, followed by Dan. They didn't bother to kill the rebels, the robots had already finished them off. Mark quickly gathered their equipment from where the rebels had placed it, avoiding the grisly remains of the rebels the robots continued to whittle away at the bodies and clean up. Todd had finally snapped out of his state (or snapped completely, Mark thought). He was now patting the robots and talking to "his children" as he now referred to them. Mark looked at Dan and indicated Todd with a glance. Dan just shrugged.

"Todd, we'd better get going. We don't want to be late meeting P.Y.V." Dan spoke carefully to the white suited figure kneeling over one of the robots. Todd glanced up and nodded. Mark carefully kept Todd in sight as they hurried to reach the city administration area, where, hopefully, P.Y.V. would be centered. Todd kept talking to the three robots following at his heels, calling them by name. Mark couldn't take it any longer.

"If those blasted things could fight so well, why in the devil didn't you ever send them out into the field?" he demanded of Todd.

Todd looked a bit startled and the robots uttered ominous noises while drawing closer around him. Mark stepped back, worry creeping into him.

"Why would I do that? They have to keep the dirt away from me, all that bad dirt. It just keeps building up, don't you see?" Todd spoke in an agitated, wavering voice.

"Good God, think of the lives that could have been saved if those robots had fought instead of out men." Mark lowered his voice as he responded.

Todd made sweeping motions with his hands, as if to wipe dirt from his spotless suit. He stopped suddenly and answered Mark in a dead voice, "That would imply that I care less about the lives of people than my machines. I don't think you would like the choice I might make in that situation." A chill crept down Mark's spine. Todd's face was emotionless. Mark turned and quickened his pace towards the command center.

He's nuts, Mark thought. Combat fatigue? I've seen people in the hospital recovering from it, but this was too strange. I could attribute his freaking out to fatigue, but not this new behavior. He's started acting like a machine now.

Mark knew he wasn't suited to deal with this. He was a tactician, not a psychiatrist. Then it hit him, what seemed familiar about Todd's behavior before. Something he had seen in Todd's file when he started working for the Penguin. Todd's last research project for the government was on that of a working android. He had apparently succeeded, not that the government got anything out of it.

Apparently, some corporate spy broke in to steal the android and all data pertaining to it, but Todd was still there. He had threatened Todd and even went so far as to assault him. Then the robot intervened. By the time the military destroyed the rampaging machine so as to gain access to the lab, there wasn't much left of the burglar but bloody pieces scattered around the lab. Todd had been in the hospital for a few months afterward. After a brief stint at further research, he was then impressed into the military. They must have thought to use him to create killer machines, but it didn't work. A few years later, the Penguin recruited him. Mark summed it up as a breakdown, and now he was stuck with him. It was at this point that Mark noticed both Todd and his robots were gone. Dan shrugged when Mark questioned him and continued on.

It all came back to him, back when the rebels pointed their weapons at him. All the blood, all the pain. He shook his head as if to clear it, as useless gesture. Yes, it all came back, but he could now look back in a detached manner and relegate it to memory.

No sense being bothered by it now, it had no further meaning. All that he had worked at for so long had at last survived. Ironic that the incident that started it all would enable him to conclude it. All the restraints he had placed upon himself so long ago fell away with his madness.

No sense wasting power, he thought as he turned off the suit's lighting and other unnecessary functions. He stopped briefly next to a terminal and reached out his hand. He was close now, soon he could use the module.

He thought Scott would have agreed to the use. He had always fancied himself a hero, and a chance to defend a city must be right up that alley. He was alerted to noise farther up the corridor by one of his drones. We waited carefully in the dark for the approaching person. The drone's scanners picked out the rebel uniform and he readied himself. As the rebel passed the room Todd waited in, the door slid quietly open. The rebel turned with his rifle only to have his leading arm and neck grabbed by the advancing figure. A sharp crack echoed and the rifle dropped from his lifeless arm. Todd casually lifted the rebel off his feet and tightened his grip on the rebel's neck. Another snap sounded and Todd dropped the corpse to continue on.

Mark was glad when Dan and he finally reached a stationed guard that belonged to P.Y.V. Now they were being led to see the leaders of that unit. Soon they could coordinate defense tactics for the coming assault. They were cut off, but they need only hold out for a few days before the front reached this point. And then the battle against the rebels would begin in earnest.

Todd reclined in the control chair, fingering the SCOTT module. He knew the module's program would work, the question was how it would react to its situation. It knew what it was to do, but would it carry out those orders? He considered briefly whether he should have altered the program after its creation to insure loyalty. Too late now, he realized. Too late to turn away from the past or the present, but time to look towards the future. Todd carefully inserted the module and downloaded its program into the system, then sat back to watch the results, unmindful of the bodies of the five rebels in the room being dealt with by the robots.

"Sir, the city's environmental systems have just come online," the private informed Steve.

"What's it doing"

"It's apparently changing the environment to Earth norm conditions."

"Great, no more environmental suits," Pietro responded as he picked up his weapon.

"Something's strange about this. We've spent the better part of a day trying to break into the city's admin control program, and now it kicks in on its own. Something's up and I don't like it. Maybe F.R.P. is behind it." Steve glanced over at the soldier by the door. "See what's taking them."

"I'm going to check out some reports of gunfire in the building subsections. Be back shortly," Pietro reported as he headed out the door.

Jim glanced up from readouts of various chemical modifications of his defoliant formula. He was at work trying to refine it for use in defense of the city. Its usage against the roots had been a bit sloppy and needed more tinkering.

Pietro was puzzled by that he saw. He had come across the remains of three rebels. None of them had died by gunfire, but there was evidence that their weapons had fired, the scorched walls were proof of that. No, the rebels had all been killed by someone's bare hands, someone inhumanly strong. He wasn't sure if an attacker with cybernetics alone could account for a caved-in chest. He couldn't even imagine how the other wounds were made. But something had killed these rebels and it wasn't anything he knew about. He went to leave but the door was locked. He began to work at it and noticed he was shivering. What in the hell is going on here, he thought as frost began to form on the walls. He quickly unslung his gun and shot the locking mechanism. He shouldered the door open and slipped into the corridor. Something weird is going on, Pietro thought as he regrouped the search party and returned to command central.

"Now, now Scott. One must learn to differentiate between allies and enemies. No sense harming the ones you're here to help," Todd spoke to the figure on the screen. Its large-eyed face frowned slightly at the commend. "Don't worry, the enemy will be arriving shortly and then you can really get busy," Todd concluded as he gazed over the knuckles of his hands. He kept the fingers of his hands interlaced before him as he turned his attention back to the glowing screens before him. Scenes of various parts of the city flashed across them as he watched. "Yes, the enemy will be here soon," he repeated to the watching figure of the former lab assistant.

Evan brushed aside the lizards and updated his maps of the coming battlefield. Those in the city were cut off and surrounded now. Any help was a good two days away, maybe more depending on how the weather was. Tomorrow he would attack the city and recover it. Tomorrow he would strike a blow for independence. Tomorrow he would kill those trying to stop him.

Hans checked the position and status of the assault teams as they readied for tomorrow's battle. Tomorrow he would strike back in revenge for the death of his brother. The bloody Imperium sent his brother, the loyal soldier, on a mission any idiot could see was suicide. But now Hans would make them pay, starting with this one battle, then this one world. Who knows, he thought, perhaps other worlds will follow.

Continue to Part Four...