Hitching A Ride
"The gods reach into our spirits. They dream us from the inside out."
Previously: Astra aids the Heathens against the clippers.
○ Opening Era: Spring, 2026, Brooklyn
The masked Heathens kept running down the street, chittering like a bevy of birds: “Did she just say ‘bring me?’” “What is she, kidding?” “I dunno bro, she looks pretty awesome.” “The aura on this chick is crazy.” “Pff, she doesn’t wanna be where we’re going.”
“I do. Bring me there,” Astra demanded.
Are you insane? asked Astra’s inner projection of Crowley, who she could now happily ignore.
She addressed the Heathens: “Who do you think disabled their headsets?” Meanwhile she leaked her skill in what this gang would call “magic.” She watched them slow down as they took it in.
The devil mask caught up. “It’s true, it was her. I felt it. But she’s dangerous. We need to be careful about her. The Algo is inside of her. It’s trying to claim her.”
The Heathens babbled: “You’re too paranoid, devil.“ “Yeah, clippers don’t know witchcraft, Devi.” “But the lady’s got mad voodoo.” “That’s racist.” “Shuttup dude.” “Lady, what’s your name?”
“Rowan,” she said while shielding them from noticing the lie. She inferred that Rowan was a name which would appeal to the Heathen egregore, their group mind. It was the type of wood on which some pagan religions would inscribe runes.
“You’ll teach us your stuff, Rowan?” “You’ll show us how to mess with their tech?” asked the sun and moon masks.
“Of course,” she said.
“I say she’s in.” “Yup.” “She don’t know what she’s getting herself into but ight.” “Hop in the jalopy, Rowan.”
At the intersection was a rusted and rickety car, idling with a sound like a growl. A man wearing an old aristocratic jacket and a golden venetian half-mask stared at them from the driver’s seat. His mouth curled down in displeasure. “You’re late.”
Astra felt nervousness stir in the surrounding gang: “Oopsie.” “Sorry, Marquis.”“Our bad, my lord…or, uh, whatever you like to be called.” “The IPO’s goon squad is on the hunt.” “Yeah, Human Resources pulled up on us.”
“What?” the Marquis roared. “And now you lead them to me?”
“Don’t worry, Marquis, we kicked some clipper ass.” “But we had some help.” “Yeah, meet Rowan.” “She’s a natural.” “We’re gonna get her initiated.”
The Marquis stared at Astra suspiciously. This man was too perceptive. Astra did her best to hide behind her invented identity. She’d best not get in a car with him.
“Well get in,” growled the Marquis. “You’re lucky I’m dropping all of you off to begin with. You know I detest St Lenny’s ‘parties’.”
The sun, moon, yeti, pig, and gorgon stuffed themselves into the Marquis’s car, sitting on each other’s laps.
“There’s not enough room in the car for your new friend,” said the Marquis, conveniently for Astra. “Try Nersi’s.” He pointed at a Burning Man art car to his rear.
The one called Nersi stuck her head out from the giant glowing ladybug on wheels, with wings made of stained glass. “Let’s go!”
The barracuda mask packed in alongside a werewolf, cyclops, rakshasa, and troll. There was only room for one more – on a lap. The devil, unicorn, and Astra stood outside, looking at each other.
“Go ahead,” the devil said to the unicorn.
The unicorn oozed with alarm.
“I need to have a private conversation with Rowan,” the devil stated.
So Astra and the devil named Devi found a yellow cab just as the two other cars pulled away from the curb.
“Please follow the ladybug,” said Astra.
“No problem miss.” The cabbie looked in his mirror at the Devi in her devil mask. “Heh. It looks like your Halloween came early this year, yes?”
“Do not trouble us, cab man. This woman and I have matters of grave importance to discuss.”
“Just talking, madam. No harm in a little chit-chat.”
“Stuff it, cab man!”
Astra intervened, “My friend is having a hard day.”
“Before the Opening I would have told her to get out of my car. No joke.”
“We’re sorry.”
“These days, if I didn’t accept fares from the crazy ones, I’d go broke, miss.” The cabbie shook his head. “At least now I have something to keep her madness from rubbing off on me. Goodbye.” He pulled foil curtains across the window.
Devi turned to Astra and studied her. The TV screen between them showed scenes of some kind of protest on an elevated highway. It cast a ghostly glow across her paper mache mask.
“So where are we going, Devi?” Astra asked.
“You called me your friend,” said Devi, ignoring her question.
“Do you think we could be friends?”
“That depends on this conversation.”
“OK.” Astra kept her expression plain.
“I am going to try to save you. If I succeed, then we can be friends. If I fail, then we will be the deepest of enemies.”
There was a pause as the cab passed the warehouses and cranes of the Brooklyn Navy Yard.
“I looked at you through the Mythos,” said Devi. “It’s more powerful than just psi-ing someone.”
“And what did you see?”
“Do you know what that is? The Mythos?”
“The plane of shared imagination.”
“You say that word, imagination, with the wrong intonation, Rowan. The imaginal is actual. People call it the dreamworld, but it’s more real than this realm. We’re the imaginary ones. The beings of the Mythos imagine us. The gods reach into our spirits. They dream us from the inside out. They dream us in their own image. What kind of clothes we wear. The shape and sequence of our thoughts. The gods are dreaming the future of this earth. They bring their futures into the now through our minds and our hands.” Devi lifted her hands.
“What god dreams through your hands? The god of the Heathens?”
“No, the Heathen is a minor god, a vassal. I serve the greater god, the fallen god who is the true god. I serve the god of Freedom who rises again.”
“The fallen god….”
“Not truly fallen. Freedom has fallen from its throne to teach Humanity a lesson. Humanity is only a minor god and it is prone to error. We, as Humanity, began to worship a false idol. We worship a force which will become our end unless we stop it. It is a god which goes by many names. You must prepare yourself to hear them, Rowan. After you know its names, you can no longer unsee it. And it is everywhere. It is inside of you. Are you prepared?”
“I am,” said Astra.
Deep within Astra’s psyche, behind mental prison bars, the translucent presence expanded, one straight line at a time.
Next release: Devi tries to save Astra’s spirit.