Other Worlds Than These

they’re basically untouchable as far as you’re concerned. But I don’t expect you’ll have any problems. Eights tend to be pretty civilized, you’ll see.”

I shouldered the pack. “All right. Is that everything?”

“Yup,” she said. “Thanks for doing this, kid, I really appreciate it. See you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, and departed the library, making my way toward the orange door.

I stepped out into a hot, dry day, and looked around. On this side, the door was built into a white brick wall that was about as tall as I was, and that hugged the contours of the rolling hills for as far as I could see in either direction. In the valley below, a perfectly straight road ran from the horizon to a city of gleaming spires a few miles away.

I took a deep breath, adjusted my pack, and started down the hill toward the road. Hopefully, I thought, my sophomore effort at cross-world travel would turn out more auspiciously than my first. Though I was a lot more prepared this time around. I had shoes, for one thing, and a pack full of food and water and money. I also had a gun, though it was empty. Most importantly, I had a rough idea of what was going on.

I also had worms in my brain. Good worms. Yeah.

On the other hand, this world was an eight, and I was a mere five. I stomped on the ground experimentally. I supposed that it did feel a bit more substantial than usual, and the colors around me did look more vibrant and saturated, especially the looming orange sky.

After an hour I reached the road, which was a hundred feet across and made of a smooth white substance that showed virtually no wear. I set off toward the city.

A bit later I heard a distant humming sound, and raised my head. Something was speeding down the road toward me, and throwing up clouds of dust as it came. It was white, and seemed to float above the ground. As it neared I saw that it looked almost exactly like a giant flying egg.

It came to a halt beside me, then spoke in a low, soothing voice. The language was unfamiliar, but I realized that I could indeed understand it. It said, “Greetings, pilgrim. May I conduct you to the city?”

“Um, okay,” I replied, in that same language.

The egg’s top half unfolded like a blooming flower, revealing a cushioned red seat within. “Welcome aboard.”

I climbed a short set of steps and settled into the chair. The dome re-formed itself above me—the vehicle resuming its egglike shape—and we accelerated toward the city. From inside, the thing’s walls were transparent, and I watched as the ground sped by beneath us and the city drew ever nearer.

We flew through an enormous gate and came to a halt in a white plaza beside a giant fountain. The vehicle opened and let me out, then sped away, back to wherever flying eggs go.

There were people all around me. They were varied in appearance, but were all apparently human, and most were dressed in white, their garments simple and clean. I felt a little conspicuous standing there in my street clothes, which were still a bit spattered with fish-man, but no one seemed to pay me any attention as they strolled about, chatting and laughing.

I wandered down a broad avenue toward the city center, keeping an eye out for any sort of weapon. Having no knowledge of local customs, I was a bit reluctant to just come right out and ask where I could buy a gun. I kept hoping to see a big sign with a sword or machinegun on it, but no such luck.

I passed a park. The grass there had been shaped into a triangular field, upon which children played a sport involving a cube-shaped ball and sticks that looked like a cross between a golf club and a cricket bat. I paused for a moment to watch.

On a bench beside me sat a man who was watching the game. He said, “Dhajat season is always my favorite time of year.”

He was an older fellow with a placid face and a long white beard, and he held a glass of what looked like lemonade.

“Uh, yeah, mine too,” I said, hoping that was an appropriate response.

He gave me a friendly smile. “What brings you to the city, pilgrim?”

“Um, I’m looking for something,” I said.

He nodded sagely. “We’re all looking for something.”

“Oh,” I said. “Right.”

Should I chance it? Oh what the hell, he seemed as friendly and talkative as anyone I was likely to meet.

I added, “But, um, actually I’m looking for something kind of specific.”

“Truth?” he said. “Enlightenment? I was like you once. Don’t worry, you’ll find it.”

“No,” I said, “more like, um, a gun.”

He chortled. “Ha! That’s a good one.”

I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. He was back to watching the game. I said, “Or a sword. I mean, any sort of weapon, really.”

Slowly he turned to face me. “You are…joking?”

“Um…” I said.

“You came here to shop for weapons?” He laughed uproariously. “Tourists!” he declared, wiping tears from his eyes. “Don’t you know where you are? No one would ever dream of bringing a weapon within a hundred miles of Nervuh Nah, City of Peace.”

I started to get a sinking feeling. I turned away.

Things were definitely not looking good. There were no weapons here, no weapons anywhere near this whole city. My mission was a complete failure. There was nothing I could do to help stop Abraxas, and now he’d probably escape through the purple door, leaving Earth forever in a state of crippled ontological peril.

Also, Asha was going to be really pissed off.

Then I had an idea.

Asha eyed my offering with disbelief. “And what exactly,” she declared, “is that?”

“A dhajat bat,” I said.

“And just what am I supposed to do with that?”

“Um, play dhajat,” I said. “But—”

She put her face in her hands and shook her head. “Kid,” she moaned, “is there something about the concept of a ‘weapon’ that you’re not getting?”

“It’s not my fault!” I said. “It was like a whole city of pacifists! There were no weapons anywhere. I just thought—”

“All right, all right,” she interrupted. “Give it here.”

I passed her the bat, and she took a few practice swings.

She sighed. “Well, it’s better than nothing, I guess. But I wish you would’ve—”

She stopped suddenly.

“What?” I said.

She whispered, “He’s here.” She nodded at the fireplace. “Get over there. Stay out of this.”

I hurried to comply. A short time later I heard footsteps approaching. Asha hefted the bat.

My dad walked into the room.

“Wait!” I cried, as Asha rushed him. I lunged to interpose myself between them, waving my arms. “It’s okay, it’s my dad!”

Then I noticed that my dad was grinning in a very sinister, very un-dad-like way. And he was holding something—a snow globe?

“Steve!” Asha roared, shoving me aside, “get out of the way! It’s—”

My dad hurled the globe to the floor at Asha’s feet.

Then it was like I was staring into the sun. I flew through the air—

I came to moments later, draped across one of the overstuffed chairs, which had been knocked to the floor,