Wheels Within Wheels pt.2

	The world fuzzed out, like a television set with bad reception. When 
it came back, they were inside a ghostly green darkness. They themselves 
were completely visible, but there seemed to be no ambient light. "Wow," 
Jane said.
	"Where are we?" Cliff asked.
	Sharon got to her feet. "Forebrain. Higher cortical functions. As 
you can see, there's nobody home."
	Jane stood up. "Where is everything?"
	"What do you mean?" 
	"You know..." She made aimless motions with her hands as Cliff 
stood.
	"She's right. When I was inside Jane's head, it looked like a subway 
system. This doesn't look like anything."
	"I've noticed."
	"Well, what does it mean?"
	"A number of things it could mean. Rebis's mind deals in the 
abstract to such a degree that she has no defined psychescape at all. Or 
as I said, there's nobody home. Either she's in the mandala or dead. Or, 
we could be in waters too shallow, in which case a psychescape will turn 
up when we go deeper in."
	"Why do you keep saying she?" Jane asked. "It's s/he."
	"Not everyone can put up with talking in made-up pronouns all the 
time, Jane," Cliff pointed out, in a tone of long-suffering patience.
	"I'm sorry-- I do find it rather difficult to use the pronouns you 
told me, and the body seemed to look more feminine than masculine to me."
	"No kidding?" Cliff said. "I have a problem remembering that he's 
not a guy. Probably because it was the Larry side of him I knew before."
	"Well, the breasts, you know. They were rather large, and rather 
hard to miss in a casual glance. In any case, for the sake of convenience 
I will continue to refer to Rebis in the feminine, and since you will use 
the masculine and you, Jane, will use the androgynous, everything will 
balance out in the end. Now, are we ready to go on?"
	"Ready as we'll ever be."
	The darkness seemed to flow past, like a river sweeping around them, 
in them, through them. Flashes of light occasionally crackled, brilliant 
green lightning bolts splitting the darkness. "This is getting us 
nowhere," Sharon complained. "Deeper!"--
	--and the world twisted.

	The room-- it felt like a room, and a rather small one at that, 
though its boundaries were invisible-- was similar to the space they'd 
been in before, a womblike green darkness. But this felt more enclosed, 
more protected. The scent of caves, with mossy walls and subterranean 
ponds, or of an aquarium, fish-full, filled the air. In the center of the 
room was a shattered mirror.
	As they approached closer, they could see that it wasn't just one 
shattered mirror. On the ground were mirror pieces, in red, dark blue, 
and green. At least they looked like mirror pieces, but they didn't 
reflect anything. The mirror dominating the center of the room looked 
like a puzzle being constructed out of the mirror bits. Some pieces were 
just tacked onto the frame, unconnected to the rest. Others were next to 
other pieces, but retained their boundaries and their colors. Most of the 
mirror, however, was composed of one colorless, seamless and rather large 
piece, as if large numbers of pieces had been melted together and refined 
into a single fragment.
	"What's that?" Cliff asked.
	It was Jane who answered. "Integration," she said, looking at the 
mirror with something like hunger in her eyes. "Putting the pieces 
together." She bent down and looked at the mirror fragments. "Just like a 
jigsaw puzzle."
	"Don't touch anything," Sharon warned.
	"I won't."
	Cliff turned to Sharon. "Does everyone with a fragmented mind have 
puzzle pieces inside their heads? Jane had puzzle pieces, too."
	"No. Not necessarily. This may not even be the metaphor Rebis 
herself uses." She turned to Jane. "Jane, you use a jigsaw puzzle as your 
central metaphor?"
	"Um... I guess you could say so. Why?"
	"Well, that's why we're seeing things like this," Sharon said. 
"*Our* minds are manufacturing the metaphor here, and Jane has more minds 
than we do. I think Rebis deals on a  slightly more abstract plane. Or 
perhaps more disjointed-- several dozen overlapping metaphors, and we 
only see one, because we're influencing it. The psychescape could, for 
instance, look like this." Suddenly they were in the middle of a three-
dimensional grid contour map, like a computer-generated image made of 
colored lines. The green mirror had transformed into a flat plane, while 
the red and blue maps were uneven, dipping down to weave into the flat 
green plane, in other places rising up, mingling with each other, or 
dropping below the green plane. "This may be closer to Rebis' own 
metaphor. Or maybe not. It's hard to tell."
	"A holographic set of contour maps?" Jane said.
	"Looks like it fits him better," Cliff muttered.
	"There are other metaphors around here, but they aren't visual. A 
chemical reaction, a crucible, a few others that we needn't get into. 
This one is rather too easy to perturb, so maybe we should go back. We 
can avoid disturbing the mirror metaphor better than this." They were 
back in the room with the unreflecting mirror.
	"Wait a minute. Let me see if I understand this. Whether or not you 
can muck with something depends on the metaphor you're using to look at 
it?" Cliff asked.
	"Of course."
	"But why? It's the same thing, isn't it?"
	"No. The metaphor you use to look at something doesn't change *it*, 
but it changes the degree to which you interface with it, and therefore 
the degree to which you can affect it."
	Cliff shook his head. "Whatever you say. Where are we trying to get 
to?"
	"This is the confluence of identity, where the process of 
integration seems to be taking place. We're trying to find the ego."
	"Where would the ego be?" Jane asked. "I mean, if it *is* in the 
Mandala, how do we get there from here?"
	"We find the memories, and ride them up until we find the most 
recent ones. Ego should be connected to the interface between memory and 
experience."
	"So what are we waiting for?" Cliff asked.
	"Nothing. Let's go."
	The world warped again, and resolved itself into a static tableau, 
like a diorama. "Cliff-- that's you! Isn't it?" Jane said, surprised. 
"And the Chief has red hair!"
	"Yeah. He used to." Cliff was staring at a red-haired woman in the 
image. "God," he murmured. "Rita..."
	"That was Rita Farr?" Jane tried to get into the diorama. "It's like 
it's behind glass."
	Rita, the old Cliff, and a younger version of the Chief were in the 
image, standing like three corners of a square. "Let me guess. This is 
one of Larry's memories."
	"Yes." Sharon pressed against the invisible boundary of the scene. 
"I need to check something." She melted into the boundary, and was 
suddenly inside the scene. The tableau began to move.
	"...terrorizing the citizens," the Chief was saying.
	"So you think this is a job for the Doom Patrol?" Cliff winced to 
hear his former voice. *God, I sounded like that?*
	"Yes, I'm--"
	Sharon stepped back out of the tableau, and it stopped moving. "Not 
here," she said.
	"What were you looking for?" Jane asked.
	"Memory trace. If ego had accessed that memory recently, I could 
have followed the trace. As it is, we'll have to do this the hard way."
	"So we need later memories. After the transformation. Right?" 
	"Yes."
	"Why don't we just go there, then?"
	"Because these memories aren't indexed in order. They're all over 
the place."
	The shift came again. This time, they surfaced directly inside the 
tableau. A tall and strangely distorted black woman was shouting, 
"...don't want to hear this again! You'll bring up your grade, young 
lady, or your daddy's going to whale your hide, you hear me? I don't want 
to see another C on your report card for as long as I live!"
	Sharon grinned. "Reminds me of *my* mother," she said, looking back 
at Cliff and Jane.
	Being inside the memory was weird. Viewed from one point, it was 
fully three-dimensional and detailed. Behind that point, if one were to 
turn around, it didn't exist. The child Eleanor was the reference point 
for the scene, but did not exist in it herself, except as a voice. "It 
wasn't my fault, Momma, it was just because I was sick all the time!"
	"I don't want to hear that! You understand me, Eleanor Leigh?"
	There was a sensation in the air, a feeling of panic and shame and 
fear. "I want to get out of here," Jane said, almost whimpering.
	"Right." They were outside. The tableau turned static.
	"What's wrong, Jane?" Cliff asked. She was shivering, drawn into 
herself.
	"It's all the same," she said bitterly. "It's supposed to be *love* 
and *guidance*, but it's the same everywhere. Parents." 
	"Now wait a minute!" Cliff put his hands on Jane's shoulders. "Jane, 
that wasn't abuse we saw in there. That was a mother chewing out her 
daughter for getting bad grades. All parents do that-- that doesn't mean 
they beat their kids or abuse them."
	"So why was she so afraid?" Jane demanded. "I could *feel* it. I 
could feel her terror!"
	"Because she was a child, and children blow things out of 
proportion," Sharon said calmly. "And because you were projecting what 
would have made *you* afraid into the situation. Here." They were inside 
another tableau. Eleanor, still a child, was visible in profile, but 
disappeared when you tried to look directly at her. She was apparently 
working with her mother on a knitting project. "Look here, honey," the 
mother was saying. "*This* is how you seal off the edges."
	"Okay." Childish hands protruded into the picture and manipulated 
needles. "This is gonna be so good. I'm gonna get my badge before anybody 
else."
	"It's enough to get your badge at all," the mother said. "Don't 
worry about the others." There was a feeling of warmth and excitement in 
the air.
	"You see, Jane?" Sharon said. "It's not all bad."
	"I suppose." Jane knelt on the floor next to the memory figures and 
studied a ball of green yarn.
	"Why is it we can see the girl in profile?" Cliff asked. "And why 
does the world look blurry?"
	"We can see her in profile because of image reconstruction. The mind 
can remember itself at a remove, as if we were looking at ourselves from 
slightly off to the side. A lot of older memories get this distortion. As 
for the blurriness-- I don't know, does Rebis wear glasses?"
	"Sunglasses. I don't think they're prescription. But maybe Eleanor 
did."
	"Yes, that's probably it. Jane? You ready?'
	"Sure."
	And next--
	Darkness. They were in darkness, the smothering darkness of 
oblivion. It was not even dark-- it was *not*. Not-sight. Not-being. 
Nothing but a vague, amorphous hunger for reality, for being.
	A shrill scream split the not-dark, and then they were somewhere 
else, in the ghostly green light of the abandoned forebrain. Sharon was 
kneeling on the bottom surface, gasping.
	"Sharon! You all right?" Cliff asked, bending down next to her. She 
nodded, her eyes wide and slightly protuberant.
	"It was-- too much like. Death."
	"Like *what?*"
	"Sharon's schizophrenic, Cliff," Jane said. "She has delusions that 
she's dead."
	"Oh, great! Why didn't anyone mention this before?"
	"It didn't come up," Sharon said, getting to her feet. "I'm all 
right, Cliff. Don't worry."
	"So what the hell was that?"
	"Must have been one of the Negative Spirit's memories," Jane said. 
"That's the only thing that makes sense."
	"I'm not sure *any* of this makes sense. You sure you're okay, 
Sharon?"
	"Fine. I just lost my place a tad. We'll have to go back."

	--The world erupted around them.
	This was not a static tableau. It was a memory, but a memory so 
vivid, dominating, immediate, that it became a first-person experience, 
shared completely. Not a movie, but a dream, enveloping the viewer.
	Larry Trainor was lying on his bed in the hospital, its unyielding 
surface blocking escape. Terror consumed him, like the burning light of 
the energy being swirling around his head. Sweat poured down his cheeks, 
plastered his thin pajamas to his body. It was not part of him. The 
Negative Spirit was not under his control. He couldn't predict it. 
"Purpose? What purpose?" he asked, frantically stalling.
	"youknowlarry theunionthefusionthealchemicalmarriage"
	He knew, without knowing how he knew. A dormant memory, of a plan 
conceived by a dweller within, long before. Transformation and rebirth. 
Hydrogen into helium. The loss of his own life into a gestalt. "No," he 
whispered, anguished.
	"takemyhandnow"
	"No... I..." 
	Pressed against the bed and the energy burning him. What he had 
controlled so long, controlling *him*. His hand moved against his will, 
extension of someone else. Something else.
	"takemyhandlarry"
	*God help me no I don't want this* "Oh no, please... don't do this 
to me... please... wait... I..."
	"itstimetogo"
	Contact.
	A searing pain throughout all senses. An explosion of light. 
Expanding, expanding, burning. He felt distanced from his body, energy. 
The Negative Spirit and he were one again, but the balance was shifted. 
The control was not his. He was the extension, dimly sensed body hanging 
limply in the Spirit's embrace. Simultaneous terror/anticipation/ 
agony/sexual desire and when she came into the room, desire swamped 
everything, to have her, hold her, take her, *be* her, and she came 
forward with their desire mirrored in her confused eyes and reached for 
their hand, take her/Eleanor into themself, oh no why why did I do it why 
did I touch I don't want this and she/he/they screamed as energy burned 
them away--
	"nowwearethree"--
	agony transform into ecstasy, orgasmic pleasure blotting out the 
world more intense than anything in his/in her experience, merging, 
shattering, the world, falling down into one another, spiraling in--
	"nowweareone"--
	and the final explosion took everything away...  (1)

	"God," Cliff said into the darkness. "God."
	Jane drew in a breath, almost a sob. "I... never knew. I..." She 
began to fade into view in the ghostly darkness, as if eyes dazzled by 
the spectacular last explosion were slowly adjusting. She had her arms 
wrapped around herself, and she was shaking. "We shouldn't have seen 
that. That should have been private."
	"I know," Sharon said softly. "I meant to get us out of there, but I 
couldn't... move."
	"Like it was real," Cliff muttered. "It was-- like I *was* Larry."
	"We were," Sharon said. "That's only happened to me once or twice in 
my life-- someone else's memory being powerful enough to suck me inside." 
She shuddered, then shook her head. "It's done now. We've reached the 
critical nexus. Memory is indexed properly after this-- all we have to do 
is follow up through Rebis' memories until we reach the leading edge. 
That's where we should find ego, if there isn't a disjunction."
	"A disjunction?" Cliff said.
	"A place where memory becomes non-sequential. We'll know it if we 
see it. Let's go."
	The next scene was another static diorama, but-- changed. It was a 
scene of a street in Happy Harbor. Jane herself was visible in the 
periphery. "I'm *glowing*," Jane murmured, staring at the image.
	Everything was glowing, more or less, in colors that didn't exist. 
It was as if several images were laid on top of each other-- the glowing 
auras formed one layer, and below that, a grainy picture, in which 
everything was made up of impossibly tiny yet distinct dots in no color 
at all. Yet the colorless dots radiated *something* that made them 
distinguishable. On another level of the image, there were ripples in the 
air, as if a contour map had been laid over everything. "What the hell--
?"
	"Is this how Rebis sees?" Jane asked.
	"I guess so. I've never seen anything like it," Sharon said. "Let me 
take us inside."
	The diorama sprang to life around them. Now that there was motion, 
the overlapping components of the image produced ghosts. Moving figures 
remained in one position on one of the levels of vision after they had 
moved to a different one on another level. Sound existed on the audible, 
ordinary level-- Jane's voice, discussing a book she'd read on the 
continuity of being; citizens of Happy Harbor talking, cars, etc, the 
sort of things any of them might hear. There was also a regular 
thrumming, a vibration through the body, and on another level whispering 
soundless voices: *wanted to do the deal so what's the hate him I hate 
him I wish he was gimme! it's mine! no fair! no so tired I'm so tired 
headache stop screaming little brats like to take a meat cleaver and hey 
look it's the weirdos from the Doom hot babe like to he's looking at her 
swear I'll kill him...* The light in the air seemed to be a river, 
rippling and rushing around the images. Emotions translated as smells, 
tastes at the back of the throat-- this man's lust, that woman's fury, as 
distinct scents. There was no trace of ordinary scent at all.
	"This is weird," Cliff said, staring about. "I mean-- with this 
team, I've seen a *lot* of weird, but this is definitely up there."
	"It's three-dimensional," Jane said. "Look!" She turned around. In 
earlier memories, the images had vanished entirely when she did that. 
Here, only the immediate, surface level of vision disappeared, with 
ghostly afterimages remaining on most of the levels.
	"How does he make sense out of all this?" Cliff asked no one in 
particular. He was beginning to get an idea of why Rebis's behavior was 
so strange. If this was the world s/he lived in...
	"The same way any of us do," Sharon said. "Practice. Lots of 
practice." They were outside the diorama again. "No ego traces. We'll 
have to move forward."
	The panorama of memory began scrolling forward as a blur. Waves 
appeared, rolling slowly through the blur. "*That's* never happened 
before."
	"What hasn't?" Cliff asked.
	"Those waves. I think Rebis must be able to see something whose time 
course is so slow that we couldn't detect it in the one memory. If all 
you had to go on was a single time point, you'd never know that plants 
grow."
	"It's fun," Jane said. "Like watching 'This is Your Life' on your 
VCR and fast-forwarding it."
	"Does everyone have a memory record like this?"
	"No-- well, for the most part, yes. You do. Jane probably doesn't, 
because the memories are parceled out to different people. And Rebis's 
earlier memories weren't organized like this either, which is why I 
didn't do this before. I-- ow!" The images stopped suddenly. Sharon put 
her hand to her head. The final image showing in the memory diorama was 
the Mandala. 
	"We're there, aren't we?" Jane asked.
	"Yes. Oh, my head. I feel like I just bashed myself into a brick 
wall."
	"So where's Rebis?" Cliff asked.
	"Wait." Sharon pressed her fingertips to her eyes. She removed her 
thick spectacles from her breast pocket and put them on, making her look 
goggle-eyed. Carefully she looked at the image. "Yes. She *is* still 
alive. The leading edge of memory is in there."
	"In *where?*"
	"In the psychescape of the Mandala. When an ego moves out of its 
body and into some other domain, I have to go in through the memory of 
crossing. Lord, this is one complicated case." She sighed, removing the 
glasses. "This is the situation. Rebis's ego is in the Mandala. For us to 
go in after her, we have to enter this memory and cross through the 
disjunction here. This is where the danger comes in. When we retrieve 
Rebis, her mind will carry the rest of us with it. But if we *don't* 
retrieve Rebis, we ourselves will not be able to get back. I won't be 
able to cross back through this disjunction."
	"So what you're saying is that if we don't get Rebis out, we'll be 
stuck in there ourselves," Cliff said. 
	"Essentially."
	"But there's no way to get Rebis out unless we risk it."
	"Yes."
	"What are we likely to find in the Mandala?" Jane asked.
	"How would I know? All I know is what you know-- something in there 
pulled Rebis in, and we don't know whether she hasn't left because she 
doesn't want to or because she can't."
	"'Can't''s more likely, I think," Jane said.
	"Cheering," Cliff said. "Let's go before we change our minds."
	Transition.

(1) This scene is a direct retelling of events in Doom Patrol #19.


	There was a sudden lurch, a sense of nausea (Cliff, who hadn't been 
nauseous in years and had nearly forgotten what it felt like, almost 
enjoyed it, but then, it *was* very brief), and then they were through. 
	Around them were walls, towering, impossible, infinite walls of 
wood, covered with carvings that seemed to writhe and whisper haunting 
fragments. A soft green glow suffused everything. Ahead of them was a 
path that forked.
	"It's a maze," Cliff said, remembering what Rebis had said just 
before s/he went catatonic. "Look, Sharon. Are we even going to be *able* 
to find him in this?"
	"I think so." Sharon put her spectacles back on. "The trouble is 
going to be finding our way back."
	"We can't just retrace a memory trail or something?"
	"I don't know, Cliff. I've never been in this situation before. Most 
catatonics I've worked with weren't trapped in mazes inside wooden 
carvings."
	"Uh, guys?" Jane produced a ball of green yarn. "We can use this."
	"Where'd you get that?" Cliff asked.
	"It's not real," Sharon protested. "If it's not part of Rebis's 
mind, it has no reality outside of us. It'll disappear as soon as--"
	"Will you shut up? It *is* part of Rebis's mind. I picked it up in 
one of Eleanor's memories."
	"Oh." Sharon looked chagrined.
	"We're not exactly rank amateurs, you know."
	"Jane, you're fantastic. How long is it?"
	"Did you ever notice how, if you're trying to imagine unrolling a 
ball of yarn, you never get to the end?" Jane said. "You get stuck in a 
loop, and nothing ever changes. Imaginary yarn doesn't *come* to an end."
	At this point, a skeleton staggered toward them. Sharon gasped, 
going gray, and hid behind Cliff. Jane made a disgusted noise at the 
skeleton. "Euw. Lovely landscape they have here."
	"Nobody do anything threatening," Cliff said. "Let's wait and see 
what it does. It might not be a hostile."
	Sharon cautiously poked her head out from behind Cliff. The skeleton 
was still advancing, but slowly, shuffling and weak. It didn't look 
awfully threatening, except for the fact that it was a skeleton. "A 
female, adult, probably anywhere from her late 20's to early 40's when 
she died," Sharon said, regaining her composure. "Died within the past 
two hundred years, if we can trust what her skeleton looks like. She had 
adequate nutrition throughout her life, and didn't do a lot of physically 
strenuous work."
	Jane made a face. "Do you have to be so morbid?"
	The skeleton stopped, about six feet away from Cliff, who had moved 
to stand slightly in front of the others. "Help... me..." it whispered in 
a thready voice.
	"We'll help you if we can," Cliff said, taking a step forward with 
his palms up in a gesture of friendliness. "What's wrong? Can you tell 
us?"
	"Everything's wrong," the skeleton whimpered. "Home... can't find 
the way out... I..."
	"Do you remember how you got here?"
	"Eternity... the Mandala of Eternity... but I but I... help me..."
	"We can't help you if you don't tell us what's wrong," Sharon said.
	"The Mandala is what's wrong," Jane said. Now that they were more or 
less out of Rebis's head and in a weird extradimensional environment, she 
was in her element, and sounded much more confident than before.
	"Yes... the Mandala... so hungry... I..."
	"Watch out!" Cliff screamed as the skeleton crouched to leap.
	Sharon threw herself behind Cliff. Jane, however, stepped forward, 
arms thrown out. "Yes," she said. "I have what you need."
	"*Jane!*"
	The skeleton leapt at Jane, who embraced it. "I give you release, 
sister," Jane said softly. Her arm began to buzz, shaking back and forth 
so fast it blurred. She pressed the buzzing arm into the skeleton, 
slicing its bones apart. It crumbled into dust, and Jane stood, brushing 
the dust off herself.
	"Jane?" Cliff stepped forward. Jane turned.
	"No. I am Sister Mary of the Chainsaw. That unfortunate soul had 
been drained of her life a long time ago, and lingered on as a revenant 
only, a hellish shadow of herself, drinking the lives of others. I gave 
her peace."
	"Oh," Sharon said, sounding nonplussed. "Well, it worked, anyway."
	"I know I know," Jane said, her voice and stance changing, becoming 
childish. "I know what the Mandala is. She said it to me in her sleep."
	"What? What's the Mandala?" Cliff asked.
	"Hungry." Jane tittered. "Hungry! It eats and eats until all'at's 
left are the bones, an' they live here. They gotta drink from the live 
souls that come in 'cause they haven't got anything else. 'Cause the 
Mandala ate them up. An' if you do it right, you can make the Mandala 
give you all the stuff it ate, so you can live forever'n' ever. But it's 
draining the air, too, can't you see it? It's eating up the air!" Jane 
laughed again and began to spin in circles. "Gonna eat up the air an' 
there won't be any left to breathe and we all fall down 'cause there 
won't be any air..."
	"Jane!" Sharon shrilled, her whole body rigid. "Stop it stop it 
*stop it!*"
	Jane shrieked and lost her balance, tumbling over, her hands out to 
break her fall. Cliff looked at Sharon, who was rigid, staring straight 
ahead and hyperventilating, and at Jane, who was on the ground. Jane, he 
decided, took priority. "Jane!" He ran to her, and lifted her.
	"I'm all right. I'm all right," Jane said, holding onto his wrists. 
"I'm okay." She went to Sharon, who was rigidly shuddering. "Hey. I'm 
sorry. I'm sorry, Sharon, okay? I can't always control the others."
	"What's happening?" Cliff asked.
	"Sophie Apollonia scared her," Jane said. "So she screamed in my 
head for Sophie to shut up, and Sophie got startled and fell over. It was 
a moment before I could get control back. It's okay, Cliff."
	"I heard your prophecy," Sharon whispered. "We're all going to die, 
aren't we? Aren't we?"
	
	"No, no. That was just Sophie Apollonia. She doesn't know how to 
interpret her visions. See, there's an energy in the air. That's that 
green glow. That's what the Mandala's drawing on, not us. It's not 
touching us."
	"Wait a minute," Cliff said. There was something that was nagging at 
him. "The Mandala is draining energy out of the *air?* We're not really 
here. How can there be air?"
	"Well, it's not really air. It's an ambient energy field."
	"Okay. The Mandala sucks energy out of the people who enter it, 
right? That's what you said?"
	"Yes, but it's not touching--"
	"--us, right, right. Bear with me, Jane. Didn't Sharon say we 
weren't really in the Mandala? That we came in through Rebis's head?"
	Jane blanched. "Oh my God."
	"What?" Sharon's hands clamped on Jane's wrists, like talons. "What 
is it? Are we in danger after all?"
	"Not exactly," Jane said. "*Rebis* is. Cliff figured it out."
	"I should've seen it sooner," Cliff said. "A green glow?"
	"I don't understand."
	Sharon, for all her otherworldly knowledge and psychological 
training, was not an experienced superhero. Cliff explained. "You said 
we're here inside Rebis's head. That green glow is his life force or 
something. *He's* really here, so the Mandala can drain him. We need to 
reach him as quickly as possible, Sharon-- can you sense where he is?"
	"This way, I think. The memory traces are dim, but they're there." 
She started forward. "You realize, if Rebis dies with us in her mind, 
we'll be killed too?"
	"I figured that," Cliff said.
	They began to move through the maze, Jane paying out the green yarn 
behind them. As they traveled, they passed piles of dust, like the dust 
the earlier skeleton had become. "Well, this is encouraging," Cliff said.
	"What is?" Sharon asked, looking back at him.
	"Skeleton dust. Somebody's been skeleton-smashing. Looks like 
Larry's still in pretty good shape-- or was when he came through here."
	"Rebis doesn't like to be called Larry overmuch, does she? S/he?" 
Sharon asked.
	"We had an argument about it in the beginning, but I don't think he 
cares anymore. Why?"
	"Just a thought. You ought to call people what they choose to be 
called." 
	Cliff produced an electronic sigh. "Don't you start."
	As they proceeded through the maze, Sharon leading them forward, 
they encountered more and more skeleton dust, and some partially 
decomposed bodies scattered in pieces on the ground. One of the bodies, a 
slim Asian man, had only lost its arm. It got up as they approached and 
leapt at Sharon. She screamed. Cliff shoved her out of the way and took 
the attacker himself.
	Cold. Its embrace was unutterably cold. Cliff had not experienced 
the physical sensation of cold in what seemed like forever, but he *had* 
previously experienced the sense of energy drain that came with the cold. 
Violently he shoved the creature from him, with strength that should have 
broken its ribcage and ruptured its vital organs. But since it wasn't 
real, or wasn't physical, at least, all it suffered was a stunning as it 
hit the ground hard. Cliff was shaking, feeling like he did when his 
nutrient tank ran low-- dizzy and cold on the inside.
	Jane threw herself forward, transforming into Black Annis. "Rip your 
flesh!" she shrilled, lunging at the revenant. "Drink your blood! Slice 
your bones!"
	The revenant threw itself backward, dodging Black Annis, and 
shouted, "*Majo! Shine!*" (2)
	Cliff backed off, staying out of the combatants' way. The revenant's 
arm had grown back. He now looked more like an emaciated man than a 
starved corpse. He and Black Annis were snarling at each other, him in 
some guttural language that Cliff didn't speak, and he was parrying 
Annis's razors with-- what? It looked almost like a sword, when it was 
visible, which wasn't always. Black Annis was getting more and more 
frustrated.
	Sharon's eyes were closed. "It-- he-- was a magician," she said 
softly. "A Japanese. He was sucked into the Mandala forty years ago, but 
his spells have kept him largely intact. And he wants Jane badly. If not 
Jane, he'll settle for me. Our mental powers give us a great deal of 
energy. Most of your body is powered by mechanical energy, not 
biological, so you have very little usable energy from his point of 
view."
	"How do you know all this? I didn't know you were a real telepath."
	"I'm not. Rebis is, though, and the memory traces are stronger here. 
You're right, Cliff-- the shattered skeletons we saw on the way here were 
Rebis's work. She barely survived the encounter with this one, though."
	"Shit." Cliff clenched his fists, watching the combat. He knew 
better than to get in Black Annis's way-- but she wasn't winning. "Jane 
and you both said we're not really in the Mandala. How can these revenant 
things nail us?"
	"We are but we're not. I'm not sure, as I can't sense the Mandala 
per se. Ask Jane, when she finishes up."
	"I wish she'd change to someone else. Black Annis isn't getting 
anywhere."
	Then the blade flashed, and blood spurted everywhere. Jane's voice-- 
not Black Annis's-- split the air in a shrill scream, and Jane fell 
backward with a red gash opening her stomach.
	"*JANE!*"
	Cliff lunged, closing with the Japanese man in a blind fury. The 
sword swung, and blunted against Cliff's metal body. He grabbed the 
revenant, ignoring the cold and weakness he felt, and with a single 
violent spasm ripped its head off. The head cursed violently, and the 
body slipped free of Cliff's grasp and began staggering toward the 
wounded Jane. Cliff dropped the head and grabbed the body, hurling it 
into the wooden wall. It lay still where it had hit. 
	"Cliff!" Jane called weakly. "Toss me the head?"
	Cliff picked up the head and brought it over to her at a run. Sharon 
was pressing her hands against the bright red wound in Jane's stomach. 
"Jane!" Cliff shouted.
	"The head?"
	"Don't talk," Sharon was saying. "I'll get the wound bound up in a 
moment. Cliff, could you--"
	"Don't bother," Jane interrupted, as Cliff knelt and handed her the 
head. "I can heal-- myself-- aah--" She clenched the cursing head, and 
for a second blood spurted fiercely from the wound, drenching Sharon's 
dress, as Jane's eyes widened and her face twisted in agony. Then the 
blood, and the pain in her gaze, subsided, and the head crumbled to 
powder in her fingers.
	Cautiously Sharon released the wound. It was sealing up. "How--"
	"I drained his energy to heal myself." Jane got up. "I must look a 
wreck. Blood all over, my poor dress ripped open--"
	"You're all right, though," Cliff said, feeling overwhelmed with 
relief. "Right? You're okay now? Are you okay?"
	"I feel great. Here, Cliff. You've lost some strength too, haven't 
you? I've got a little to spare." She placed her hands on Cliff, and the 
cold weakness faded in a wash of warmth.
	"How many more are there like that one?" Cliff asked Sharon.
	"According to memory trace, Rebis hasn't run into any more of them 
yet." Sharon turned toward a passageway leading left. "Not far, Cliff. We 
don't have far to go."
	"Is Rebis okay? Can you tell?" Jane asked.
	"Yes, I can tell, and no. Not okay. We had better move quickly."
	
	They ran down the paths of the maze. Jane became Flaming Katy and 
threw fire from her hands at any other revenants they saw. Sharon carried 
the ball of yarn, since in this form, Jane would burn it. Cliff simply 
shouted.
	"Larry! Larry, can you hear us? Are you there?"
	"Rebis!" Flaming Katy joined in. "Rebis, where are you?"
	"[There's no need to shout.]"
	The three of them came to a screeching halt in front of a side 
tunnel. Rebis was there, looking unhurt, intently studying the wooden 
wall. "Larry!" Cliff shouted, and ran forward. "You don't know what we've 
been through, trying to find you!"
	"[There really *is* no need to shout, Cliff. I'm right here.]" S/he 
made no attempt to turn toward them, but continued to study the carvings 
on the wall.
	"How do you feel?" Jane turned back into herself and came forward.
	"[Fine. How else should I feel? This is fascinating. Jane, have you 
taken a good look at these carvings?]"
	"No, I haven't had time. We--"
	"You have to come back now," Sharon said, urgently. "We've mapped 
out the way."
	Rebis appeared to notice Sharon's presence for the first time. S/he 
glanced at Sharon, and then turned back to the wall, floating a bit 
further down the passage, away from them. "[I don't intend to go back 
just yet.]"
	"You don't *intend?*" Cliff stared, a mounting fury rising inside 
him. "We bust our asses to rescue you, risk our lives, and you don't 
*intend* to come *back?*"
	"[I haven't finished studying the Mandala. Cliff, you don't know. 
Everything's here.]" There was a faint edge of something tingeing the 
matter-of-fact voice-- longing? hunger? "[It's infinite. Infinite 
knowledge. The structure of the all.]"
	"I don't care!" Cliff shouted. "We've come to rescue you, and we're 
damn well going to do it!" He reached to grab Rebis, who floated up over 
Cliff's head and out of his reach.
	"Cliff, don't," Sharon said softly. "It's--" Abruptly she noticed 
Jane studying the carvings, and shoved her away from the wall. "Don't do 
that!"
	"What did you do that for?" Jane shouted. "How the *hell* do you 
expect me to understand this thing if I don't study it, you schizo bitch? 
I don't need you getting in my way!"
	"Yes you do. Hammerhead, shut up and let Jane take back over."
	"Why the fuck should I take your orders? Who died and made you God?"
	"Rebis will, and then the rest of us, if you don't shut up and let 
me talk."
	"There's nothing wrong with that asshole. S/he's just a cold-blooded 
freak who doesn't give a shit about the rest of us and doesn't deserve to 
be--"
	"*Jane!*" Sharon shouted. "Somebody reasonable take over for 
Hammerhead, *now!*"
	Jane's face cleared. "We need Hammerhead," she said. "The woman 
feels a great deal of anger."
	"The woman can control herself for ten minutes," Sharon said in an 
icy voice. "This isn't her emotion-- or not completely, at any rate. It's 
being imposed. Look at Rebis, both of you." Rebis was still floating next 
to the wall, tracing patterns on it with hes hand, paying no apparent 
attention to the conversation.
	"Typical," Cliff snarled. "Larry, have you listened to a word we've 
said?"
	"[What?]" Rebis looked down. "[Cliff, please don't bother me. I'm 
very busy.]" And turned back.
	"That's not normal," Sharon said. "Not even for Rebis. Is it?"
	"I don't know," Cliff said darkly. "Sometimes..."
	"Please, try to control your anger. It isn't entirely your own. This 
is *not* normal. Trust me. For one thing, Rebis is very badly energy-
drained. Do either of you see any sign of it?"
	"No," Cliff said.
	"How do you know s/he's drained?" Jane demanded.
	"Because I can read Rebis's memories. We're still in her head, after 
all. And I know what's going on better than ego does. The Mandala walls 
are an obsession. Ego is fixated on them, to the point that she-- he-- 
oh, hell, I might as well be consistent. That she hasn't noticed that the 
Mandala is draining her life force. How do you think the Mandala holds 
powerful people here?"
	"A charm," Jane said slowly. "S/he's caught by a charm."
	"Oh," Cliff said. "Oh, *shit*."
	"Rebis is so obsessed, in fact, that she's extremely angry with us 
for trying to interfere with her obsession. We can't see it on the 
surface, because ego is badly disjuncted from her emotions--"
	"Nothing new there," Cliff muttered.
	"But because we're still in Rebis's mind, we're picking it up 
subconsciously. It's manifesting in *us*, magnifying our natural 
annoyance into full-blown rage."
	Cliff looked up at Rebis, who was about ten feet over all their 
heads and totally oblivious to anything but the wall carvings. "So we've 
got to persuade him to come back against some kind of brainwashing 
spell?"
	"That's about it."
	Jane sagged. "How do we do that?"
	"We argue with him, I guess," Cliff said.
	"S/he won't listen. We don't see it that often, Cliff, but Rebis is 
one of the most stubborn--"
	"And self-centered."
	"That too. If s/he's so obsessed with those damn walls that s/he's 
ignoring an *energy* drain--"
	"I've got an idea. Hey, Larry!"
	"[Cliff, I *did* ask you not to bother me--]"
	"We need your help down here. There's a problem."
	"[Can it wait?]"
	"It'll only take a minute."
	Jane stared at Cliff, and slowly began to smile. "I see," she 
murmured. "Let's hope it works." Sharon looked at both of them blankly.
	"[What exactly is the problem?]"
	"I'm not sure," Jane said. "I'm getting something weird from this 
section of floor, but I'd like you to take a closer look at it. Please, 
Rebis?"
	Rebis descended. "[I didn't notice anything about the floors 
before,]" s/he said. "[That's very odd. What sort of feeling?]"
	"I can't really put it into words. It's very localized. Right over 
here." She patted the spot right in front of Cliff, and straightened.
	"[Over here?]"
	"Yes. Right here." As Jane motioned with her foot, Cliff moved in 
behind Rebis, who knelt down.
	"[Strange. I don't detect--]"
	At this point Cliff grabbed Rebis, locking his arms around the 
hermaphrodite's chest and pinning Rebis's arms to hes sides. "[Cliff, 
what are you *doing?*]"
	"Sorry about this, Larry." Rebis was heavier than s/he looked, but 
nowhere near heavy enough to give Cliff trouble. "You're coming with us 
whether you like it or not."
	"[*Let me go!*]" Rebis began to struggle in Cliff's grasp. S/he 
wasn't strong enough to get loose without using the Negative Spirit. 
"[Cliff, I don't want to hurt you--]"
	"Then don't. Just relax. You've been brainwashed. We've come to 
rescue you."
	"[No one is doing anything to my mind. I would know it if they 
tried.]"
	"Would you?" Sharon said. "Your head is riddled with memory blocks 
and disorganized besides, you're disjuncted from your own emotions-- you 
would know it if someone was telepathically altering your mind, but did 
you sense us walking around in your memories? Did you sense the claim the 
Mandala put on you?"
	"[Let me go,]" Rebis said, in a distinctly weaker voice.
	"You see? You're beginning to realize how drained you are."
	"Listen," Cliff said. "If you don't get out of here, you'll turn 
into one of those skeleton creatures, and we will, too. We can't leave 
until you do."
	"[I want to know,]" Rebis said, almost in a whisper. "[So much to 
learn... Let me *go.*]" S/he began struggling violently again. "[I'll 
force you if I have to, Cliff.]"
	"You can't," Sharon said. "The Negative Spirit knows that if it 
separates from you here, you'll become a revenant. Only its energy is 
keeping you alive."
	"How do you know that?" Cliff asked.
	"Rebis knows it, but ego can't realize it. Listen to the deeper 
levels, Rebis. Listen to yourself. You can't release the Negative Spirit 
and you haven't the strength to fight back."
	"[I...]" Abruptly Rebis sagged, all the strength going out of hir.
	"Larry?" Cliff lowered Rebis to the ground. "Larry, can you hear 
me?"
	Sharon shook her head. "Something's happening. Something's falling 
apart... The memory traces are getting chaotic."
	"I think I know what it is." Jane knelt next to Rebis. "The drain's 
picking up. We've got to get out of here. Rebis? You can hear me, can't 
you?"
	"[Yes... so weak... why... so weak? I...]"
	"It was the glamour of the Mandala, keeping you going," Jane said. 
"It's killing you now. Do you understand? Are you going to stop fighting 
us now?"
	"[We... unity damaged. Connections broken. I. I am not. We... 
disintegrating... the Mandala... pulling...]"
	"Disintegrating?" Cliff didn't like the sound of that. "Sharon, 
Jane, can we get him out of here now?"
	"We have to." Jane got to her feet. "Things are worse than I 
thought. We have to get out of here *now.*" 
	"I won't argue." Cliff picked up Rebis again, lifting hir in his 
arms. This time, Rebis seemed significantly lighter, as if s/he were 
partially hollow. "Sharon, do we still have that yarn trail?"
	Sharon was shaking. "Yes," she whispered. "But it's... things are 
falling apart. I don't know if we'll make it out in time..."
	"Then we'd better move! Come on!"
	They began to run back along the yarn line, Sharon winding it as 
they went. The Mandala walls were cracking. At one point, an abyss nearly 
opened under Jane's feet, but she leapt over it. "What the hell?" Cliff 
shouted, looking at Sharon.
	"She's *dying!*" Behind the glasses, Sharon's eyes were even wider 
than before, popeyed with fear. "Hurry, hurry!"
	"[Disintegration,]" Rebis whispered, so softly Cliff could barely 
hear hir.
	By the time they'd reached the beginning of the yarn trail, the 
green glow in the air was visibly faded, and there were cracks and holes 
everywhere. "The psychescape is falling apart," Sharon whispered, rigid 
with terror. "We're inside a dying mind. We're never going to get out."
	"Take us back across!"
	"I *can't!* There's a disjunction! Rebis has to do it and there's no 
way she's strong enough!"
	"Did you hear that, Larry?" Cliff asked urgently. "Can you do it?"
	Rebis didn't appear to hear. "[don't... please... yanking...]"
	"Rebis!" Cliff shook the limp form in his arms. "Can you hear me?"
	"I know what's happening," Jane said. "Put hir down."
	Cliff obeyed. "What *is* happening?"
	"Disintegration. They're losing it. Falling apart." Jane knelt 
beside Rebis. "Rebis. Do you want to stop the disintegration? Do you want 
to hold together?"
	"[...jane?...]"
	"Listen to me. You have to get out of the Mandala and back to your 
own mind. It'll take all the energy you have left, but you won't 
disintegrate. Concentrate! Please!" She motioned at the other two. "Come 
here."
	"It's collapsing!" Sharon wailed.
	"No, it's *not!* Come on! We need to lend Rebis our strength, s/he 
doesn't have enough left to make it out of here. All of us, link hands." 
Cliff and Sharon sat on either side of Jane and clasped her hands. She 
then placed the clasped hands in each of Rebis's. "Take what you need. 
Come on!"
	A wave of cold, of draining-- sickness, disorientation, nausea--
	--and Cliff was staring up at the ceiling lights. He got to his 
feet. Sharon was on the cot, her brown skin tinged with an unhealthy 
grayish shade, and Jane was still on the floor, folded over. "Jane? 
Sharon? Did we do it?"
	"Help me up, Cliff," Jane said. "I feel weak. Dr. Caulder, Josh, I 
think Rebis is going to need medical help."
	Cliff helped Jane up. "What about Sharon?"
	"She's a little worse drained than me-- I have more to spare, and it 
was her power that took us through. I'm more worried about Rebis. Cliff, 
look!"
	Cliff looked, as Caulder and Josh came bursting in. "Look at what?"
	"Rebis isn't glowing."
	"Jane. What's the problem?" Caulder asked.
	"Energy loss. S/he was very weak inside the Mandala, and burned a 
lot of energy getting back out."
	"IV drip," Caulder said to Josh, who frowned even as he moved to do 
it.
	"The circulation's too slow. We need something to increase heart 
rate, or the sugar won't get to the tissues in time. Oxygen mask?"
	"Yes, good idea."
	Sharon began to stir awake, while Cliff and Jane watched the Chief 
and Josh deal with Rebis. Josh had slid a stethoscope underneath the 
bandages, careful not to expose any of Rebis's radioactive skin. "I'm not 
getting a heartbeat-- wait, there-- but it's too slow, even for Rebis," 
Josh was saying. "Trying adrenaline."
	"Ohh..."
	"Sharon?" Cliff turned. "You all right?"
	"My blood sugar is probably ridiculously low..."
	"I'll get you some orange juice," Jane promised, and ran for the 
kitchen, shouting, "Dorothy, come here! I need some help!"
	When Jane came back, it was with a pitcher of orange juice and 
glasses. Dorothy was toting a box of chocolate ice cream and several 
spoons. "Here you go," Jane said, pouring Sharon a glass. "Have some ice 
cream as well."
	"Heartbeat's increasing..." Josh removed his stethoscope. "I think 
we ought to check body temperature as well. These bandages are only 
supposed to block the high wavelengths, right?"
	"Yes, that's why the green glow."
	"Normally there's radiant heat, too. At least, when I did the 
baseline physical on the whole team, Rebis's bandages were a lot warmer 
than this."
	"Josh, that's a function of the radiation, not the body temperature-
-"
	"Yeah, but they might be linked. I'm going to check it."
	"Use a mercury thermometer, then. The radiation will damage an 
electronic one."
	"I think he's waking up," Cliff said.
	Josh paused in his quest for a thermometer. "Rebis? Rebis, can you 
hear me?"
	Rebis's eyes opened and blinked several times. "[...light...]"
	"The shades," the Chief said. "Cliff, what did you do with Rebis's 
shades?"
	"In my pocket." Cliff removed the shades and placed them on Rebis's 
face.
	"How do you feel? Can you tell us?" Caulder asked.
	"[...cold... can't move...]"
	"Drink this," Jane said, offering hir a glass of the orange juice. 
Josh and Cliff propped Rebis up on a pillow, so s/he could drink a little 
of the orange juice without dripping it all over hes bandages. Jane had 
to hold the glass. After the orange juice, she spoonfed Rebis some ice 
cream.
	"Is it getting better?" Jane asked. "Do you feel like you're getting 
any stronger?"
	"[...little... damaged... we're...]"
	"Don't talk," Cliff advised.
	"Let me get some blankets," Josh said. "Those bandages leak heat."
	Jane fed Rebis some more orange juice. Josh came back with blankets, 
and piled them on the cot, tucking them in around Rebis. "I don't know if 
this'll help or not, but it can't hurt."
	"[yes... thank you...]" Rebis's voice was slightly stronger. 
"[...need sleep... please...]"
	"Right." Cliff looked at Sharon, who was lying back on her cot. "You 
feel well enough to get up?"
	"How long were we in there?"
	Cliff looked at the Chief, who answered, "Six hours."
	"Six *hours?*" Cliff said disbelievingly.
	"Sounds right... believe I need some sleep myself." Sharon yawned. 
"Just leave me here. I won't disturb Rebis."
	"All right," Caulder said, nodding. "Josh, if you could get that 
Mandala? I'd like to have a look at it myself before Rebis wakes up."
	They all filed out, turning out the lights.

(2) Japanese: "Die, witch!"  The last word is pronounced "shee-nay" and 
not "shine" as in sunshine.


	Eleanor was holding a party at the apartment in Santa Luisa. There 
were some guests there she didn't remember inviting, like the Scissormen 
over in one corner, conversing in their incomprehensible language with 
one of the Pale Police. Emily Stark was there, wearing bandages for 
burns. She came up to Eleanor holding a cup of blood and effused, "Now I 
look just like you! Isn't magic a wonderful thing?"
	"Wonderful," Eleanor said politely. There was a sense of lurking 
awfulness hanging over everything, but she couldn't put her finger on it. 
Something was wrong.
	Val Vostok was having an argument with Rita Farr, over whether 
beating up on little brothers was child abuse or justifiable homicide. 
Having had a little brother, Eleanor would have argued the latter, but 
she didn't feel like arguing at all. Dan and Josh were talking 
philosophy. Eleanor had never before noticed how much they looked alike. 
Dan was bleeding from a neck wound, and it was staining the floorboards, 
making a puddle at his feet. "Dear, you're bleeding," Eleanor told him.
	"Your coat is up in the closet upstairs," Dan said. 
	"No, no. We're storing it at headquarters, in mothballs. The Chief 
wants to figure out why it changes color," Josh said. There were small 
insects crawling on his face. Eleanor excused herself from them.
	"Great party, Larry," Cliff said, knocking back a glass of motor 
oil.
	"Cliff, how many times do I have to tell you I'm not Larry?"
	"Just because you're a black woman in a party dress is no reason you 
can't be Larry."
	"After all," Rita said, "we hardly ever saw what you looked like. 
You could have turned into something else under the skin." She was 
visibly rotting. Eleanor wanted to tell her to go rot somewhere else, but 
really, it'd been so long since they'd seen her. 
	The Chief was dissecting Rhea, who was lying on a table as part of 
the decor. The party was going wrong somehow. Eleanor's and Larry's 
mothers were off discussing recipes as they knitted a homunculus out of 
glowing green yarn. "Dan, please go put a bandage on your neck," she 
said. It was very distracting to see the blood eating away at the 
floorboards.
	"Do you have any to spare?"
	"Only radiation-proof ones. Not for blood."
	"Oh. I bet you don't still bleed." He handed her a wooden doll. It 
was painted red and yellow, ludicrously bright, and had a hideous clown 
face. "Here's a gift. Open it up!"
	Eleanor didn't want to open the doll. Something horrible was inside. 
She knew. But there was a compulsion tugging at her. Open the doll, see 
what comes out.
	The doorbell rang. Gratefully Eleanor said, "I have to get the 
door," and went without opening the doll. A short black woman with amber 
eyes, wearing a lab coat, was standing there. Eleanor knew her from 
somewhere, but couldn't recall where. The hospital? Med school? The Air 
Force? No, he hadn't known any women in the Air Force. "Hello?" Eleanor 
said.
	"Are you Rebis?" the woman asked.
	Yes, of course. Why had s/he been thinking s/he was still Eleanor? 
"[Of course,]" Rebis said. The red party dress really didn't go well with 
the white of the bandages, and the black tie and work boots just made it 
look stupider. [/What's wrong with me?/] "[Who are you?]"
	"Dr. Sharon Dilliard. I don't know if you realize this, but you're 
having a nightmare. Would you like to wake up?"
	The Scissorman was snipping up the furniture, and something was 
slithering out of Dan's blood to eat the pieces. The Chief was pulling 
Larry's old model planes and comic books out of Rhea's torso, and Rita 
and Emily were swapping death stories. "[How very odd,]" Rebis said. "[I 
haven't dreamed since-- are you *sure* this isn't happening?]"
	"Can't you feel more than you can when you're awake?"
	The doll. A sense of lurking horror. Yes. The irrational dread 
building within hir was much more immediate and uncomfortable than it 
would ordinarily be-- as if s/he was, in fact, Eleanor again, or Larry. 
In a spasm of sudden terror, s/he asked, "[Am I myself? Are we-- how many 
am I now?]"
	"I think you're as many as you're supposed to be," Sharon Dilliard 
said. "You're just having a bad dream, as I said. Do you want to wake up 
before the real nastiness begins?"
	Dan was coming forward with the doll, staining the carpet and the 
floor as he walked. "Hey, Eleanor! Don't forget this!"
	If s/he stayed, s/he would be forced to open the doll. "[Yes,]" 
Rebis said forcefully, and was surprised to hear fear in hes own voice. 
"[Yes, I want to wake up.]"
	"All right." The woman stepped back outside, and Rebis had to turn 
to face Dan, and the doll.
	"Come on, Eleanor. It's *your* party."
	"[I'm not Eleanor.]" Maybe that could get hir out of having to open 
the doll, s/he hoped. But no one was having any. The bleeding wound in 
Dan was getting bigger and bigger, and something vaguely enameled was 
visible in the gap, like giant teeth.
	"Yes you are. You're still linked to Eleanor whether you like it or 
not. Now *open the doll*. It's a gift!" He placed it in Rebis's bandaged 
hands, which began to tremble. 
	[/How interesting. I'm actually very afraid./]
	"Go on!" Jane said, her arm around rotting Rita, who was grinning 
skeletally. "Open it, Rebis. Nothing *really* bad can happen!"
	"It's *only* a baby," Mother-- one of them, or both-- was saying. 
"It's *only* a child."
	"Get this show on the road, Larry," Cliff said, chomping on his arm. 
It had been ripped off by parties unknown, and bled oil.
	[/There's no way I can get out of this, is there?/]
	[*/I don't think so. We're going to have to open it./*]
	Reluctantly, slowly, Rebis began to unscrew the top of the doll.
	Then someone was shaking hir. "Wake up! Wake up!"
	For a moment of disorientation, Rebis thought that whatever had been 
inside the doll was shoving hir back and forth. Then hes eyes opened. In 
the dim light cast by hes own glow, s/he saw a woman bending over hir, 
shaking hir.
	"[I'm... awake. Thank you.]"
	"Sorry it took so long, dream-time," the woman said. "I had to wake 
myself up first, and time passes much faster in dreams. How do you feel?"
	Rebis sat up. S/he was in the infirmary, lying on a cot, with 
blankets tucked in around hes body. There was a black woman in a rumpled 
pale dress standing barefoot in front of hir. Hes body felt cold and 
sluggish, and ached a bit, but s/he dimly remembered being so weak and 
cold that death had seemed imminent. "[Somewhat... recovered, I think. 
Where are my clothes?]"
	"Over there someplace." The woman gestured. "I can't *believe* I 
slept in mine. They are going to smell so bad... thank the Lord I packed 
new ones."
	Rebis retrieved hes clothes from the pile someone had dropped them 
in, slightly annoyed. Now they would have wrinkles. "[I know you,]" s/he 
said. "[Where did I meet you?]"
	"In the Mandala. Professor Caulder hired me to fish you out."
	"[You were in my dream.]"
	"Yes. Sorry about that-- when I'm asleep near someone else, I tend 
to go dreamwalking."
	"[I'm afraid I've forgotten your name, Doctor--?]"
	"Dilliard. Sharon Dilliard."
	"[Yes. I've heard of you.]" S/he finished knotting hes tie. "[An 
article in an AMA journal, six years ago, regarding the use of paranormal 
abilities in medicine.]"
	"*That* thing. I remember that."
	"[I need to tell the others what I've learned.]"
	"What time is it?"
	"[How would I know?]"
	"I thought you might have a time sense. I'm very hungry." She 
located a clock. "Um. Looks like it's morning. Do you guys eat breakfast 
around here?"
	"[Yes. They might be in the kitchen.]"

	Rebis and Sharon entered the kitchen. Jane was there, munching on 
toast. "Good morning, sleepyheads," she said. "How do you feel?"
	"[Mostly recovered. Thank you.]" 
	"Sharon?"
	"Oh, I'm all right. Hungry, grungy and smelly, but otherwise fine. I 
need something to eat, and then I need a shower and a change of clothes. 
Do you mind if I just make myself something to eat? I don't want to be 
any trouble."
	"Go right ahead. There's eggs in the fridge." Jane turned to Rebis. 
"So, did you find out what you went in there to find out?"
	"[Yes. I think I would like some coffee. It's been a very long time 
since I've had coffee.]"
	"There's still some in the pot. What *did* you find out?"
	Rebis poured hirself a cup of coffee and sat down. "[It's called the 
Mandala of Eternity. It absorbs life energy from people--]"
	"Well, we *know* that."
	"[--but if used properly, the energy can be taken back, and used to 
grant the owner eternal life.]" Neither of them noticed Sharon suddenly 
stiffen and turn, looking at them.
	"So that explains why someone would want it."
	"[It has other powers, as well. It--]"
	"Wait. Let me go get Cliff; we should bring him in on this."
	"[Yes. Good idea.]"
	Jane left. Sharon brought her breakfast-- a bagel with American 
cheese melted onto it-- to the table, and sat down. "Eternal life?"
	"[Yes. If used properly.]"
	"Pretty impressive," Sharon said, studying her orange juice 
intently.
	Jane returned with Cliff. "Larry! How do you feel?"
	"[Improved. Thank you. I was discussing with Jane what I've learned 
from the Mandala.]"
	"Well, go ahead. Shoot."
	"[The Mandala of Eternity has existed for thousands of years. It may 
date back to the dawn of time. It consumes the life force of those who 
touch it or probe it without taking the proper precautions. In the hands 
of those who know how to use it, however, it can provide immense power. 
It can grant eternal life, or the power to reshape reality in one's own 
image. Throughout the centuries, it has been pursued by many secret 
organizations, cults, societies and cabals, many whose members ended up 
in the Mandala as revenants. Most of these groups were eventually 
destroyed by it. It is said that part of the soul of Death was fragmented 
off and bound into the Mandala, providing it with its occult powers as 
well as a certain sentience. There are other rumors, which I forget.]"
	"And it has the power to mesmerize people inside it," Jane said. 
"Don't forget that."
	"[I haven't. Mostly it traps magicians, scholars and others who 
tried to use it or investigate it. It uses the hunger for knowledge to 
lure these people, so they don't even realize they're dying until it's 
too late.]"
	"Like it was almost too late for you," Cliff said. "So. What's 
next?"
	"[I don't know. I know *why* someone is pursuing it, but not--]"
	The phone rang. "I'll get it," Cliff said, and picked up the closest 
extension. "Doom Patrol, Cliff Steele speaking." He held the phone 
several moments, then said, "To *who?* I'm sorry, could you speak-- To 
Eleanor Poole?" He turned his head away from the phone. "Rebis, there's a 
hysterical woman on the line who wants to talk to Eleanor Poole."
	"Nobody here by that name!" Jane caroled.
	"[I'll take it.]"
	"Eleanor *Poole?*" Sharon said.
	"Yeah. That was one of Rebis's selves, before," Cliff said. "Why?"
	"I'd *heard* of Eleanor Poole. My *lord*, what a small world this 
is. I never thought she'd been *that* Eleanor."
	Rebis was attempting to get the sobbing woman on the phone to make 
sense. "[Who is this, exactly?]"
	"You don't even kn-*know*, do you! You *killed* him, you bitch, and 
you d-don't even *know!*"
	"[Killed who? Please, who *are* you?]"
	"You remember *D-Dan!* Don't you?"
	"[Dan? Yes. I remember him-- what's happened?]"
	"He's *dead!* You got him killed, you bitch, you and those th-
*things*--" She dissolved into sobs.
	"[Dan's dead? Who *are* you?]"
	"M-my name's Gienia Taylor. I was-- I was his-- they *killed* him-- 
those *things*--"
	"[Are you at the apartment in Santa Luisa?]"
	"It was *your fault!*"
	"[Are you at the apartment in Santa Luisa?]" Rebis repeated.
	"Yes-- I-- they *killed* him--" More hysterical sobs.
	"[We'll be right there.]" Rebis hung up.
	"What is it?" Cliff asked.
	"[My old fiancé. Dan Cartwright. He's been killed.]" 
	"By what?"
	"[She wouldn't say, except that it was a 'thing'. I suspect a link 
between this and Emily Stark's death.]" 
	Jane nodded. "It makes an awful kind of sense," she said. "Let me 
get dressed."
	"You said the woman on the phone was hysterical?" Sharon asked.
	"[Yes.]"
	"Then let me go along with you all. None of you strike me as the 
sort that inspire trust and warmth in hysterical people, and I have the 
training."
	"That is a *very* good idea," Cliff said. "Rebis, who was she?"
	"[Her name is Gienia Taylor. She didn't say what she was to Dan, but 
I suspect she's his new girlfriend. Or was.]" 
	"Um. Yeah." Cliff looked away. Sharon and Jane left to get dressed, 
and Cliff turned back to Rebis. "Does-- I mean-- if all of this upsets 
you, it's all right to talk to us about it."
	"[Thank you, Cliff, but I'm fine. I think.]" 
	"Well, whatever. I know you're pretty self-sufficient and all, but 
if you need anything, let me know."
	"[Yes.]" Rebis returned for hes cup of coffee. "[It's very strange. 
I dreamed last night, for almost the first time since primary integration 
was completed. I'd thought it was because I was in danger of 
disintegrating, and I needed dreams again. But I'm not sure, now... It 
was a nightmare. I see through time, sometimes. Perhaps I should have let 
it run to the end... it might have told me something.]"
	"Why do you think someone gave this Mandala thing to *you?* Have you 
been able to figure that out yet?"
	"[Not the foggiest. I wish they hadn't. This is getting to be a good 
bit more trouble than it's worth.]"
	Cliff eyed Rebis askance for a second or two. "You know, even next 
to the Chief, you have the biggest talent for understatement I've ever 
seen."

	The apartment was in a very nice section of Santa Luisa. "You used 
to *live* here?" Jane asked, looking about wide-eyed, as they approached 
the building. "It's beautiful."
	Rebis fished out a keychain from one of the pockets of the coat. It 
was attached to a loop, which on close inspection was a plastic snake 
biting its tail. The key, however, didn't fit. "[Hmm. They seem to have 
changed the locks.]"
	"I'm not too surprised," Cliff muttered. "Ring the doorbell."
	They did, and a few minutes later the door opened. A large and 
somewhat blowsy-looking young black woman with mocha-colored skin, extra-
short hair and half a dozen earrings stared at them out of puffy red 
eyes. She reeked of perfume. "You-- are you--"
	"We're superheroes. The Doom Patrol," Cliff said.
	Her eyes focused on Sharon. "Are you Eleanor?"
	"No, I'm Sharon Dilliard. *She's* Eleanor." Sharon gestured at 
Rebis.
	"[More or less. I take it you're Gienia? What happened?]"
	Gienia stared at Rebis. "He said-- he said you'd turned into-- some 
kind of *freak*, but--"
	"Ms. Taylor, we're here to investigate your boyfriend's death, not 
to listen to insults," Cliff said. "Could you *please* let us in so we 
can do our job?"
	"Who-- he said superheroes, but-- you don't look like--"
	Cliff sighed. "I told you. We're the Doom Patrol. Cliff Steele, 
Crazy Jane, and Rebis, who you know as Eleanor. And Dr. Dilliard, special 
assistant. Like I said, we're here to investigate your boyfriend's death. 
Could you let us in--"
	"--or do we knock you over?" Jane inquired sweetly.
	Gienia moved out of the way with bad grace. "The apartment's 
upstairs," she muttered.
	"[I know.]"
	As they headed up the stairs, Sharon muttered, "Let me handle the 
girl."
	"Go right ahead," Cliff said.
	They entered the apartment, a large and expensive one which occupied 
the top two floors of the building. Rebis stopped, floating in the center 
of the room. "[Traces. Traumatic afterimages. They were here.]" S/he 
turned to Jane, "[Do you feel it?]"
	"Yeah." Jane's head turned back and forth, searching. "Yes, I can 
feel them, like... it's like screaming... something crying..."
	"What are you people talking about?" Gienia asked, nervous and 
hostile.
	"They're investigating," Sharon said gently. "I know they seem 
strange, but they're very good at their jobs."
	Rebis was wandering around, touching various objects and making 
comments to Jane. Cliff sat down in a sturdy chair across from the sofa, 
where Sharon and Gienia were sitting.
	"We need to know *exactly* what happened," he said. "Can you tell us 
what happened?"
	"I--" The woman's eyes began to well with tears.
	"Shh. It's all right, honey. We understand," Sharon said. "Now 
listen. We know you don't want to remember what happened. But we do have 
to know, or we can't stop whatever it was that killed Dan. So let me make 
a suggestion. I'm a trained psychiatrist. I can hypnotize you, so you can 
tell us *exactly* what happened, without breaking down or losing control 
of yourself. Then when you wake up, you won't feel like you've had to 
remember it, or relive it. All right?"
	The woman looked nervously around at the three Doom Patrollers. "I'm 
not sure--"
	"They won't hurt you," Sharon said. "Trust me. They're just here to 
investigate what happened. I'm here to help you deal with it."
	Gienia took a deep breath. "I don't want *her* here," she said, 
motioning at Rebis. "It's her fault. She got him killed."
	Cliff rolled his eyes-- which were, in fact, specially designed to 
be able to do that. Sharon nodded. "All right. Rebis, could you go 
upstairs for about ten minutes?"
	Rebis looked at Sharon for a moment, trying to determine what she 
was playing at. Finally s/he nodded, once. "[All right.]"
	As Rebis floated up the stairs, Jane said, concerned, "Sharon, what-
-"
	"Shh." Sharon drew out a watch from her pocket, and swung it in 
front of Gienia's eyes. "You are getting sleepy..."
	Gienia fell asleep.
	Jane burst out laughing. "*That's* not hypnosis," she said, and then 
studied Gienia carefully. "You did. You hypnotized her." She looked at 
Sharon. "You used your power, didn't you?"
	"Of course. I'm not going to wait around for half an hour trying to 
hypnotize someone when I can do it in a minute, this way."
	"Why the watch, then?"
	"Props. I can't hypnotize someone unless they're willing and they 
think they're being hypnotized. You want to call Rebis down here?"
	"You're going to have this woman tell us what happened?" Cliff 
asked. "Or what?"
	"Well, what, actually. I'm going to take us in to view the memory. 
You guys will have more to work from, then."
	"Right."
	Jane headed upstairs. "Rebis?"

	The apartment was thick with memories and the stench of madness 
overlaying. The only previous time Rebis had come here as Rebis had been 
just after the transformation, too disintegrated to perceive anything, 
psychometric or otherwise, in the emotional domain. Now--
	Everything s/he touched had emotional resonances of hes life as 
Eleanor. Things s/he had forgotten, things s/he could no longer feel, 
were here, trapped in the fabric of all the objects. The last time Rebis 
had come here, blasted and weak still from the transformation, with no 
emotional integration to speak of, s/he had felt nothing. There had been 
Dan, who Eleanor had loved, but Rebis had felt nothing more for him than 
a vague sense of obligation. Here, now, halfway integrated and with some 
small emotional capacity, Rebis remembered what distant Eleanor had felt. 
Dan's life, his love.
	His death. It resonated through the living room, with the stink of 
madness. A place where there had been love, once, poisoned throughout by 
the sick rot of the Mad Ones.
	Rebis floated through the bedroom, picking things up and handling 
them occasionally, triggering memory and psychometric resonance. 
Remembering, when s/he had not remembered anything of this nature in 
months. A vague pain. [/There's something-- what's wrong? What am I 
feeling?/]
	[*/Reference back. Remember this pain. This is an emotion./*]
	[/Yes./]
	Rebis thought about it, fingering a paperweight Eleanor had given 
Dan years ago.
	[/I think I want to cry./]
	[/But I don't remember how./]
	"Rebis?" Jane poked her head in the door. "We're ready now. Sharon's 
going to take us into the girl's memories."
	"[Yes.]" Rebis turned and drifted out of the room, dropping the 
paperweight on the bed on hes way out.
	Jane tilted her head to look up at hir. "Are you okay?"
	"[Why wouldn't I be?]"
	"Well, something just killed your former boyfriend and was probably 
gunning for you. That'd make *me* upset."
	Rebis was silent. "Right. Don't answer me. See if I care."
	"[I'm tired, Jane.]"
	Jane sighed. "I'm sorry... I should know better. I'll leave you 
alone."
	They headed downstairs. Gienia was sitting on the couch with her 
eyes closed, hypnotized. "Take seats, people," Sharon said, waving at 
chairs. Cliff was already seated on the couch next to Gienia, and Sharon 
was perched on an arm. "We won't be below the bodily threshold, but this 
will be disorienting. Best to sit down." Jane and Rebis sat. "Now listen 
carefully. We won't be able to use any sort of special senses here-- all 
of will see, hear, and otherwise sense exactly what Gienia Taylor sensed. 
No more, no less."
	"Right," Cliff said. "Just take us in."
	The scene unfolded around them, replacing what they could see with 
an image, viewed from Gienia's point of view. She and Dan were playing 
Mille Bornes. "This happened late last night," Sharon said. Her voice 
sounded strangely unreal, like the voiceover narration on a television 
program.
	As Gienia drew from the pile in hopes of getting a green light, 
there was a shimmering in the air. A glass boy in a suit and tie and a 
giant disembodied head appeared in the middle of the living room. Gienia 
screamed, and Dan moved to her side, as if to protect her.
	"Who-- who the hell are *you?*" Dan gasped at the creatures.
	"We're the Mad Ones," the glass boy said. "I'm Kisvallen, this is 
Maître." The head burped. "Something that rightfully belongs to us was 
stolen by a woman named Eleanor Poole. We know you know where she is."
	"By-- Eleanor stole something? From *you?*"
	"Well, undoubtedly she didn't realize she was stealing, but that's 
neither here nor here, nor here either. What we need is to know where she 
is, so we can take it back from her."
	"BY FORCE," the head growled.
	"*That* wasn't necessary to say," Kisvallen said. "Didn't I tell you 
to shut up, Maître?"
	"SORRY."
	Dan shook his head. "I don't know where she is. Now get the hell out 
of my apartment!"
	Kisvallen shook his head. "Can't do that."
	"CAN I EAT'IM?"
	"Naah. But you can eat his girlfriend if he doesn't talk."
	"*What?*" Dan started forward as Gienia cowered back on the couch.
	"Now I'll ask you again. Where is Eleanor Poole?"
	"I told you I don't know! She turned into some sort of freak and 
left, *I* don't know where!"
	"Eat the girl, Maître."
	"NUM NUM."
	Gienia screamed as the head flew at her. Dan picked up the table and 
swung it at the head, which ate it. "YUM!"
	"Gienia! Get out of here! *Run!*" Dan shouted.
	"NO YOU DON'T," caroled Maître, and flew at Gienia, mouth open. Dan 
threw himself at the head and pounded on it. Maître turned, and chomped, 
and Dan was suddenly gripped in the things's mouth, screaming. Gienia was 
shrieking so loud it was hard to hear anything else, but even still the 
sound of Dan's screaming and an obscene slavering chomping noise were 
audible.
	"Oh, *Maître*," Kisvallen said, sounding annoyed, as Dan's screams 
stopped. "*Now* how are we going to get anything from him?"
	"SORRY," Maître said, and burped. Gienia was sobbing hysterically.
	"Oh well. Naomi found other connections. We'll find them out from 
her. I think there was an old lady in there somewhere."
	"DON'T LIKE OLD LADIES. TOO CRUNCHY!"
	"That's my point. Let's go." They walked over to the fireplace, 
climbed up inside, and vanished. A moment later the whole scene vanished 
as well.
	"[He knew where I was,]" Rebis said. "[I told him, the Doom Patrol. 
Why didn't he--?]"
	"Maybe he didn't want you to get hurt," Cliff suggested gently.
	"Or maybe," Jane said acerbically, "he just forgot."
	Sharon said, "I'm going to be working on Gienia. Don't try to wake 
me." She slumped in the chair, eyes open wide and blankly staring.
	"Okay," Cliff said, and looked back and forth at the other two. "Any 
ideas?"
	"I think Gienia was incredibly lucky," Jane said. "That thing was 
after her, not Dan."
	"[Other connections. He mentioned other connections-- something 
there. Something *you* said, Jane.]"
	"Something *I* said?"
	"When?" Cliff asked.
	"[I can't remember...]"
	"Rebis?" Jane leaned forward, frowning. "If they were looking for 
Eleanor... why did they find Dan and Gienia, here?"
	"[I would think they would be-- Old lady. No.]" Rebis stood. 
"[Cliff, I think my mother is in danger.]" 
	"Right. Where does she live?"
	"[Alexandria. Just outside Washington DC.]"
	"That's going to take us hours to get there. You want to call ahead 
and warn her? This *is* Eleanor's mother we're talking about here, 
right?"
	"[Yes. I don't think they have any knowledge of *me*. I don't know 
why they know me as Eleanor, but if they knew me as Larry, they'd have 
come to the Doom Patrol first.]"
	"Right. Well, if you can call ahead and get her to move to a place 
of safety--"
	"Cliff, exactly where is safe from beings that can just materialize 
in someone's living room?" Jane asked. "Even if Rebis called to warn her, 
what precautions could this woman *take?*"
	Cliff thought about it. "Call ahead to see if she's still all 
right," he said. "Get her to go somewhere else-- it *might* throw them 
off if she's not at home." He looked at Rebis. "Does your mother even 
*know* about you?"
	"[I don't think so. I didn't tell her.]"
	"Well, there's something else. We're going to have to explain 
*that*. Not now, though. Just tell her you're a superhero and she's got 
to get out of the house. Or something."
	"I'll drive us," Jane volunteered calmly, as Rebis picked up the 
phone and dialed.
	"Who?"
	"Driver 8. I've got a power, too, you know. It's just never come up 
before."
	"[Mother, this is me. As soon as you get this message, get out of 
the house. There might be someone trying to kill you. Some people and I 
are coming to pick you up. Stay at Mrs. Johnson's.]"
	"Warn her about what you look like," Cliff suggested.
	Rebis hung up without doing so. "[Answering machine.]"
	"I figured that. You should have told her about what you look like."
	"[In thirty seconds?]"
	Sharon opened her eyes. "I've taken care of Gienia," she said. 
"Would somebody like to help me get her to bed?"
	"We don't have time," Cliff said. "We've got to get going-- Rebis's 
mother is in danger. Are you coming with us?"
	"Ah-- all right, I think I'd better. I suppose we can leave Gienia 
on the couch."
	"Right. Let's move!" 

	They piled into the car, and Driver 8 took the wheel. "I take short 
cuts," she said. "Let me see the road map."
	Cliff, in the back seat, leaned forward and handed it to her, spread 
out. "We're trying to get to Alexandria..."
	"Right. I've got it. We can probably make it in an hour."
	"To Alexandria? In Virginia? In an hour?" Sharon said 
disbelievingly.
	"If she says she can do it, she can do it. What'd you do with the 
girl?"
	Driver 8 pulled out of the parking lot. "Seat belts fastened, 
everyone? Here we go!" She stepped on the gas and tore down the street.
	"Reworked her memories. She couldn't handle the truth-- it was going 
to drive her insane. I convinced her that Dan had been killed by muggers, 
who'd tossed his body in a trash compactor, while he was trying to save 
her. The horror is still there, but it's a rational horror now-- and I 
made sure she doesn't hate Rebis anymore. She remembers now that she 
called the Doom Patrol for help because Dan told her about Eleanor being 
a superhero, and she figured that she could use a superhero to 
investigate. She resents Rebis slightly for not being around to save Dan, 
but that's par for the course with superheroes, and as far as she's 
concerned, we drove off to find muggers. She still remembers the whole 
thing with the giant head, but now she thinks it was just a terrible 
dream."
	"[Reversal. Transmuted dream becomes reality, so reality becomes a 
dream. Interesting.]"
	"Are you sure that's morally right? Mucking with someone's head like 
that?"
	"I did it to prevent her from suffering a nervous breakdown. Some 
people can handle the idea of a giant head eating their lover, and some 
people can't. They--" Sharon broke off with a terrified shriek, as Driver 
8 drove straight for the nearest subway entrance. "She's going to kill 
us!" she screamed.
	"She is *not!* Calm down!" Cliff shouted back.
	"[Symbolic egress. We're not in the linear world anymore.]"
	"No, we're not," Driver 8 agreed. "We're taking a shortcut through 
the Underground."
	It didn't look quite as Cliff remembered it. They were traveling 
along a line whose stations were empty and deserted. The car remained 
shaped like an automobile on the inside, but outside it had turned into a 
lone subway car, rocketing along the deserted line. "Jane? Where exactly 
are we?"
	"We're using a part of the Underground that we haven't expanded into 
yet. It's not very well-defined. This is just the area I use for long-
distance travel."
	"I see," Sharon murmured. "There's a psychescape around us. 
Externalizing the mind into a parallel dimension? Or something..."
	"What's our strategy?" Cliff asked Rebis. "I mean, when we turn up 
on your mother's doorstep, what's her reaction likely to be? You did say 
she doesn't know about you..."
	"[I don't think she does. I didn't tell her.]"
	"So what are we going to do?"
	"[If she's alive still, we'll get her out of the house and take her 
with us. We also should pick up my younger brother and sister. If they're 
following up connections to Eleanor... Bring them to headquarters. If 
nothing else, we can force a confrontation. I don't know. Do you have a 
plan?]"
	"I was hoping you did. All right. Pull your folks out and take them 
back with us. Then what? We've got to find out more about the Mad Ones 
and why they're after the Mandala, how they keep finding you, and why 
someone gave the thing to you in the first place."
	"Maybe you could just give these Mad Ones the Mandala back?" Sharon 
suggested tentatively.
	Cliff looked at her. "We can't *do* that. These people are insane. 
God only know *what* they'd do with the Mandala, but we can't let it fall 
into their hands."
	"[Perhaps that's why.]"
	"Why what?"
	"[Why me. One could be reasonably sure that the Doom Patrol would go 
out of its way to protect the Mandala from the Mad Ones. I might have 
been chosen in particular because I like things like this. Or because the 
Mad Ones can't seem to perceive me for what I am. If someone wanted to 
escape the burden of protecting the Mandala themselves, but wanted to 
ensure it wouldn't be taken...]"
	"Yeah. You could be right. Damn, I hope we don't end up having to 
make a career of fighting these Mad Ones. The Cult of the Unwritten Book 
was bad enough."
	"Maybe we can beat them fairly easily," Driver 8 said. "We didn't 
know what to expect last time."
	"And this time we do? Besides, we've got civilians to protect." 
Cliff turned to Sharon. "Is there any way you can use your powers in a 
combat capacity?"
	Sharon shook her head rapidly, eyes wide. "I'm no superhero. I don't 
want to get myself killed. I've died too often, I know what it's like."
	"No one's asking you to make a career out of it. All I'm saying is, 
could you protect yourself reasonably well if we got into a fight? You 
don't have to help us, but if you could just manage not to be a burden 
it'd be a big help."
	"Yes. No. I don't know. I have no idea. I've never needed the powers 
for that before." Sharon was shaking. "He said, he said, I could use them 
in self-defense, so maybe I can. Bad dreams. I protected myself at Arkham 
but they're all crazy. Maybe, since the Mad Ones are probably crazy too. 
I don't know."
	Cliff did not like the looks of this. The woman was obviously 
terrified. She had gone unnaturally rigid, and the blood had left her 
face, turning her gray. If it came to a combat scenario, they would 
probably have to protect her. In addition to Rebis's relatives, who 
undoubtedly would not be happy to learn what had become of their Eleanor. 
"Great," he muttered. "Wonderful."

	Leona Poole came in from a shopping trip, and saw that the light on 
her answering machine was blinking. She played the message.
	"Mother, this is me. As soon as you get this message, get out of the 
house. There might be someone trying to kill you. Some people and I are 
coming to pick you up. Stay at Mrs. Johnson's."
	"*Eleanor!*" Leona played the message again, but it had nothing more 
to say. The voice was Eleanor's, but... different somehow. Flatter. 
Deeper, maybe, a little. "Eleanor, what's *happened* to you?"
	Though they were an emotionally close family, they weren't in 
contact all that often. It had been three months after Eleanor's accident 
that Leona, worried that she hadn't heard from her daughter in so long, 
had called her apartment-- and gotten Dan, who told her that they'd 
broken up. Eleanor had had an accident. Something to do with a superhero 
team. He had given her the number Eleanor had left with him, where she 
could be reached, but when Leona called it, she'd gotten a Dr. Caulder, 
who told her that Eleanor was ill and did not want to talk to her. She'd 
tried to find out where this Caulder lived, to track Eleanor down, but 
she hadn't even known where to start. Neither the hospital, Dan, nor 
Caulder would tell her the exact nature of Eleanor's accident-- Dan said 
it involved superheroes, the hospital said to ask Dr. Caulder, and 
Caulder had said that if Eleanor wanted to tell her mother, that was her 
place-- it was personal and private and Caulder was not about to tell 
Leona what it was against Eleanor's apparent wishes. Stonewalled. It had 
built a fury in her, these past few months, hearing nothing from Eleanor, 
having no way to track her down. 
	Now Eleanor had called, for the first time in months, but had made 
no attempt to explain herself. "Someone might be trying to kill you. Some 
people and I are coming..." Some people? What people? Who could be trying 
to kill her? And Melody Johnson had been dead for two months-- Leona was 
certainly not going to go to her house. She was staying right here until 
Eleanor showed up and gave her a decent explanation for all this.
	And it had better be a *really* good explanation at that.

	Copyrights: Doom Patrol, Cliff Steele, Crazy Jane, Rebis, Dr. 
Caulder, Josh Clay and Dorothy Spinner are all copyright DC Comics. All 
other characters created by Alara Rogers. All resemblance to any actual 
persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental, with one exception, my 
Roommate From Hell.
	If you choose to format this story for your word processor, the 
various typographical sillinesses I've adopted can be translated as 
follows: * equals italics, / equals underline, and anything within [ ] 
brackets should be changed into a sans serif font such as Arial or 
Helvetica.  By the way, the Mac font "San Francisco" and the True Type 
font "Saint Francis" are very good renditions of the Doom Patrol font.  
On my original printed run of this story, "Wheels Within Wheels" (the 
title line) was rendered in San Francisco 18 pt.