I'm literally in dreams. Aw, heck.
No, no, that could be a good thing. Okay, if I turn around and lean against the wall so I won't fall over again, calm down and close my eyes-.
Yes, no time wasted trying to find the place you saw, just focus and step into it. Dream logic at its finest.
A hero bound to a chair, ropes with strange symbols on them wrapped around his arms and ending in strange gourds on the ground. Another rope is wrapped around his head, and when his eyes flicker the pupils are heavily dilated.
I jerk back into-. Back awake as my bottom his the ground. Okay, someone's taken Green Lantern prisoner and they're going something to him that doesn't look too good. But I don't know where he is, or-.
Well, guess we know what happened to Alan, then. I wonder how they managed to bind him?
Wait, wait, wait. I'm in a dream. This place is the dream of a city from a thousand years ago! Okay, let's try… Try something.
I close my eyes and I see a hero bound to a chair, ropes with strange symbols on them wrapped around his arms and ending in strange gourds on the ground. Another rope is wrapped around his head, and I reach out and pull it off.
Okay, some manner of magical bindings, then. Probably functionally unbreakable to the one bound. But if someone else were there to help...
Oh, I… Don't know how that happened, but now I'm here and Alan…
I pull the glove off my right hand and feel for a pulse. Yes, good, he's still alive, and from the feel of it he's basically healthy. We're in a… In a small room, it makes me think 'dungeon', which isn't a good sign. These ropes look like they're magical, and I don't know if tearing them off is the best idea. I can't hear anyone outside, but the edges of the door are stuffed with sack cloth to stop sound getting out. So they shouldn't be able to hear me, either.
Hmm. Sounds like the Dream merchant he met has some
unsavoury business partners.
"Blue Lantern. Can you hear me?"
"Nnnnnn Rose…"
Rose. That was his wife's name, the one who went… Oh.
So they're probably trying to leech away his dreams of her. Dreams founded in memories of the good times, no doubt.
I see… Faces and laughter, flowing under his skin, draining down the ropes into-.
My left knee hits the closest gourd as I collapse, sending it rolling across the floor. They're draining something out of-! I draw my knife and slice into the rope wrapped around his right wrist, cutting through and causing the rope to fall to the ground. Wait, wait, no, that doesn't put whatever it was back into him. Ah, quick, grab the gourd, rope still in the hole where the stalk was, then-. Then put the rope that was around his head back on, tie the cut end of this rope to it and put the gourd in his lap.
Heh, one of the finest skills of the superhero: Making it up as you go and hoping it pays off.
I step around the chair, cutting through the rope on the opposite side and then tying the cut end to the rope circlet and putting the gourd on his lap.
This time I've spotted the pattern and sit on the floor.
Let's hope one of these dreams doesn't hit in the real world, it might get awkward if he keeps flopping like that. Especially if he's in a fight...
I see faces and laughter, flowing into his head from the gourds, getting back under his-.
The door bangs open and I leap to my feet-
Well, looks like Alan's captors have some sort of sense of how the process is going... Or they heard the noise of Sanderson flopping about.
"Who are-! Lord-!"
-and see a rough-looking Arab with a scimitar on his belt. He looks scared for a moment, and he's reaching for his sword go!
I mean, this could be a completely legitimate business transaction... But the evidence is really
against that.
Two steps and I'm across the room, his sword just coming free! My right forearm slams into his neck with the full force of my body behind it, slamming him through the doorway and into the wall of the corridor outside. My left fist comes in low, slamming up into his diaphragm in a nasty punch Mr. Grant taught me. He's kept hold of his sword but his right arm is pinned against his chest so he can't really use it.
"He's f-."
Sadly, I suspect his vulnerabilities to getting hit in soft spots depends on how human he feels at any given moment.
I shift my right arm so that my knife is pricking his neck.
"Drop the sword, or we find out if dreams can die."
And isn't
that a whole can of worms to open a philosophical discussion with, huh? On the other hand, we've
seen Dreams killed before. Usually they stayed gone, until Morpheus recreated them. But what of formerly
Human dreams, hmm?
His eyes drop as he tries to get air back into his lungs, and eyes widen as he spots where my hand is. There's a clatter as his sword hits the stone floor.
"Now, I'm going to step back and you're going to come with me. We're going into the cell, and once we're in I'm going to strap you to the chair. Make any trouble and, well it's been a while since I've had to knock someone out without hurting them too much. Nod if you agree."
And he's not joking. The whole 'light tap on the head' to put someone out is such an overused trope. And one a lot of viewers/readers are well aware is rather fake...
The guy makes a very small and worried nod, careful not to test my knife.
"Okay. Step."
Not quite gripping him by the balls, but I suspect you have his
undivided attention right now.
We edge backwards, and I make sure to keep eye contact. Woowee! Not too bad for my first fight this century! My heart's racing and I can feel the sweat on my hands under my gloves. Okay, we're inside.
"Move around to your left. Slowly."
Don't worry, it'll get easier as you get used to it again.
He does, and once he's far enough away from the door I step smartly away from him. His eyes are still fixed on me. Okay, his scimitar is on the ground outside but I've got a few moments until anyone wonders where he's gone. Next step, shut the door so he can't shout for help when he gets his breath back.
Then put my knife back in its sheath and take out my gas gun.
I mean,
it probably doesn't look like an
actual firearm, but I doubt this guy knows that. And one of the options
was a truth gas...
"You know what a gun is, smart guy?"
He nods.
Still, even looking down the barrel of something resembling an old
pump spray-gun is
intimidating. (Flit-Gun, huh?
Never knew they were
called anything...)
"Okay then. What is this place?"
"My master harvests dreams from people. There are… Rich buyers."
Yes, I'm sure there are.
Anything is a commodity if someone wants it badly enough...
Why bother with opium dreams if you can get real ones?
"Is that legal?"
Ooh, good point. We've been told they
do have people who go out searching for new and interesting dream concepts... But I should wonder if it's legal to strip-mine people's
minds for them.
He stares at me for a moment, then slowly shrugs his shoulders. I raise the gas gun and point it at his head.
"Guess."
"Men can sell their dreams, and they can be claimed from debtors. And taken from slaves."
And which situation is
this one, eh? I'm pretty sure Alan didn't owe anyone here anything...
"But you can't just grab people off the street. Right." I take my left hand off the gas gun and take a pair of handcuffs out of one of my pockets. "Catch."
I toss it, and he catches it with both hands.
Well, I didn't think it would turn into
that kind of dream.
"Put one around one of your ankles, and then the other around one of your wrists."
He hesitates.
Maybe he's having trouble even picturing
how that would work. But it
does sound like an
effective way to immobilise someone.
"I need you tied up. Do you want me to hit you over the head, or are you going to do it yourself?"
He crouches down, trying to keep his eyes on me as he puts one of the cuffs around his left ankle, then the other cuff around his left wrist.
Yeah, hard to run, or even move
easily, in that sort of pose.
"Good." I lower the gas gun. "Now, you're going to hear a lot of stuff in a little while, and I really think you should stay right here and wait for the police. Or guards, or whoever enforces the law around here."
A slightly nervous nod, and he shuffles back into the corner of the room.
I walk up to Green Lantern and shake his left shoulder. "Blue Lantern? Are you awake?"
And I suspect things will not go
well for him and his buddies when they
do get here.
