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Finally, one night, I dreamed that by hook or by crook I made it past, over, around, whatever the Great Gate and into a land of wonder.

At least, that’s what I saw.
It was gorgeous, so perfect and dream like and my eyes seemed differently focussed, like looking at the image behind one of those Magic Eye pictures only it took no effort. (I did however have trouble trying to get my eyes to focus normally. If I squinted and let them unfocus I could almost, almost see something. It was as if my eyes were saying ‘you don’t want to see that’ and since there was so much else to see I just gave up and took my eyes advice.)

The first thing I come to a K or so down the track was what looked to my altered sight like your classic golden beach edged by a sapphire sea under a sunlit, cloudless, perfect blue sky. (Which was really weird considering it had been gloomy, gray and miserably overcast when I set out this morning… I think. A different time too, now that I think about it. Also, why was there a beach at all, when we were deep in the mountains and at least 3 hours from the nearest beach? Not only that but it seems nearly every other being who sent through the Gate saw my ‘friendly’ landscape as hostile territory, my ‘sapphire sea’ as a noxious, oily, brown/black slick of gunge filled swamp under an eternally dark and overcast sky, with a ‘beach’ of small, stained, filthy, gungy and razor sharp pebbles all with a stench that was truly overpowering. I discovered later that even the G.M. saw it as this, though there were legends telling about what I’d seen. It all depended on a person’s perspective. There’s some very old tech underlying the magic of the GateHouse and it focussed on what a person ‘should’ or expected to see. I discovered this system by accident a lot later.)

I stopped and stared in wonder, I couldn’t help it.

I knew I should hurry on but for a minute I just stood and stared. What I really wanted to do was run into the sea and frolic. It just had that kind of feel. I wasn’t dressed for it though.

Suddenly I felt really, really good. You know, that way the first sunny day in spring makes you feel. Sort of, the perfect start to a gorgeous day, when the air feels just right and you feel at your best. It was with slight regret that I turned and continued along the beach. Just as I started up a narrow track like path, I glanced over my shoulder and toward the sea a final time.

“Sorry sea,” I muttered, “Another time maybe. I gotta move it. I want to see as much as I can before I get busted.” Yeah, I knew I was likely going to get caught, in fact that was odds on. It just didn’t seem to matter.

You know something my clothes had changed too. I’d gone from stealth suit to summer ware. Oddly enough, that didn’t bother me either.

I was about half way up the path toward a thin corpse of trees ahead of me, when I heard an odd whistling. The next thing I know I’m writhing face first in the compacted sand of the path. A pair of Bolos* wrapped around my throat and ankles. (Fortunately, I’ve learned how to break fall with my feet out of action… my throat is another story.)

While I was untangling myself, that guy Gerome came up behind me and put a bar under my chin… or at least he tried. Who ever threw those Bolos hadn’t considered that they’d just handed me a set of weapons. He still had his stick though. First things first, get that weapon off him.

“Heh,” I grinned, “looks like we get our rematch after all… Though this isn’t how I would’ve pictured it. Let’s get to it!”

“We’ll see.” He wasn’t smiling though and I could hear footsteps coming up fast.
“Nuts! I don’t have time for this!” I stepped in close, hooked my arm under the pole and reefed it from his grasp. I’d only been attending classes for a couple of years now but I had learned a thing or two. I stepped behind him and followed through. Three hits, one to his hand, one to his ribs and one on the shoulder between his shoulder and his neck.

He grunted and went down. Yes, his reflexes were as fast as usual and mine are turtle pace but I was still feeling high and pumped… you know like anything was possible? Even to defeating a Gate Ganger dude like that Ger (pronounced Jair) boy.

“Sorry, bro,” I told him, “Gotta go! It’s been… interesting but I’ll keep these for later.” I tied the Bolos around my waist, hefted the club to my shoulder and took off. Who ever was coming was coming fast. Did I mention I’m not very good with up hill running?