The Nomad Chronicles

I am sitting with MoSh in a kind of trashy house. We are playing poker, drinking and smoking cigarettes at a card table. Asuka is doing dishes. There are some kids playing in the next room. MoSh is overweight, and looks pale and tired. He suddenly stands up, overturning the table and says, “Fuck this dream!”
“Fuck this whole Inner World!”
He destroys all the illusion, until it’s pure energy. He takes a deep breath. We are all colored energy, so is everything. “It’s beautiful,” I say.
“I feel fine, I feel good. I can leave my Inner World like this. It feels like truth to me,” he says.
“Okay,” I smile. ”
“Now, lets go into those tunnels.”
We teleport into a great cavern. “Of course our archetypes take over this meme here,” MoSh says. “Just like in waking life... One person sees a tool, another one sees a weapon, but it’s just a rock.”
“Right. Interesting.”
“So, because this is not my Inner World, we are not in an Energy Place, we are in a Cave, but on Earth, if we said we were in a Cave, it truly would be, but it also is a place of pure energy.”
“That makes sense.”
Suddenly MoSh turns into a Green Mage. He has a white staff with a claw holding a glass orb with glowing lights in it. He points it to the center of Hollow Earth, and we go rocketing through the tunnels.
We step through an arch into a lovely garden. A Naga approaches with something in his hand. He blows sleeping powder on us, and says, “Go to sleep.”
We pass out in a field of poppies.

In this dream, I and dream friends are exploring with geologists and expert spelunkers, the Labyrinthe. We are called subterranauts, and mainstream society is now as interested in exploring The Labyrinthe as much as outer space. We also have camera crews with us, for publicity, of course. We build waystations in the caves along the way, and we travel for two months, before MoSh and I finally find ourselves tumbling down a strange slippery tube. At first I resist, then I realize I cannot, so I just go with the flow. Raven, a black moth, flies down after us. She has radio transmitters on her back. I end up a muddy mess in a huge cavern. I am surrounded by reptilians off different colors. Torches are dimly lit. They hiss at us derisively.
One of them wearing a headress which looks like its made of dried gills of some amphibian points at me with a strange staff with a skull on of a human.


“What business do you have in The Labyrinthe, Surface Dweller? Do you think you can so easily contact your allies in the Inner Earth? First you must sojourn through the Dead Lands.”

“What are the Dead Lands?”
“Here! Our Domain! You ignorant fools call this the Dead Lands, for all who enter here die.”
“Why do you kill everyone? Why not make peace?”
“You idiot. How can you survive in our world? You need the sun.”
“We have mastered genetic engineering. We can adapt to whatever we need to.”
“So you Imperial Surface Dwellers come to invade our world?” the leader asks menacingly.
“No, we come in peace, and for exploration. Our desire is for peaceful contact. We have made peace on the surface world, and have come here to spread it.”
“Lies!” shouts the shaman.
Suddenly, I am out of body, and I feel a parasite on the back of my neck. I send my silver centipedes to attack it from the inside, and rip it out, smashing it on the ground. I fall over coughing.
“Ah, you have wisdom to see you were infected, boy. Maybe we can talk.” Some of the Lizard People grumble quietly. I heal the wound, and stand up.
I bow. “I apologize, my lord.”
“I am no lord. We are all equals here. I merely have the most knowledge of your race.”
We have come here seeking friendship and wisdom, if you have it. Our world is at war, and the whole planet suffers because of our ignorance and waste.
“What you do has little to do with us. We have been here longer than you, and we will be here when your race is gone.”
“What can you do to help?”
“What can you do to help? You’re the human. You think they will listen to us? They won’t believe you. They will say you are crazy. Are you still going to tell them. What if they imprison you? Threaten your family?”
“Shit. You have a point there.”
“Listen, there will come a time when 80% of the human race will believe in other sentient life from other planets, or even this one, which of course makes so much more sense. This is the tipping point. Then, your race will be ready, and we will manifest. Begone!”
The lizard man makes a portal, and pushes us into it.