In case you haven’t noticed, the posting of my dreams has no order, I wish it did. The time I get to write them out is limited and in the meantime, I’m having other dreams so some get placed to the side—then there is the mood I’m in which dictates which one I want to work on. Eventually some will go into limbo.
The following dream is about 4 years old and one of those I jumped back to every so often, somewhere along the way between PCs and formats the date got lost. If you have read my definitions of my dreams, you will see this one has been placed under dreams. This is only because I have no idea what type it was.
In the dream I’m fully aware but unable to control any part other than myself, so it’s not a lucid dream. By our scientific standards, it broke the laws of physics so, maybe not an out-of-body experience. So I placed it in dreams and leave it up to the reader’s imagination.
The transition between my reality into others is much like waking up. My first awareness is of light or perhaps some sound that gets my attention—in this case, sound. My first thought had been the squealing of many tires, then my body began to feel compressed. The squealing noise dug into my ears, and I had nearly awoken but forced myself to stay. I opened my eyes to a crowd of people packed around me. I was squeezed in so tight and unable to move, I guessed I must be at some event like a concert. My only movement was in my neck that allowed me to at least look up. I could see a roof above me with girders stretching across. The roof could have been no more than 15 feet high. The squealing, I came to realize, was from people. The surrounding faces were in a panic, and the squeals were screams of fear and agony. I pushed up on my toes, so I could see better; we were in some type of warehouse.
I eased further up on my tiptoes as far as I could rise. Staying in that position was not a problem due to the compression of those around me. The warehouse was about 100 feet in diameter. To the far wall in front of me, there seemed to be a gap of about 20 feet. What it was that kept the people from filling it I had no idea. My discomfort was becoming unbearable and along with the noise, I was under pressure to wake up. Something in the corner of the far wall to the left began to move. It was part of the wall raising. The section of the wall was perhaps twenty feet wide like the gap and ten feet high. The wall rolled up like a garage door. On the other side, I briefly thought it was another wall because it sat just inches from the roll up door. As soon as the door came to a stop the wall began to move inward. This caused a greater hysteria in the surrounding people, and the screaming became unbearable. The wall turned out to be a subway train that had sat outside waiting for the door to open.
As the train pulled inside, the surrounding pressure increased as the people in front pushed backward. The train rolled to the opposite wall and came to rest against it. Once the train came to a stop, doors along its side opened. I thought this would make the people happy as they could now enter the cars and release some pressure of those of us in the back row. Instead, they were fighting not to go inside the cars but in front they were forced inside due to the pressure of those of us behind them. Some clung to the side of the door entrances fighting to get back out. Some even climbed over the heads of others. I thought the screaming could not get any louder, but a new wave of panic arose. A gap appeared between the crowd about five feet from the train. It increased, and I saw those on the other side moving in the train. My guess was that a wall had come up and was forcing them into the cars. There were two cars about fifty feet long with wide windows. Through the glass, I could see people packed hard into the cars. The doors closed, and the train reversed back out of the warehouse. Just outside of the door it stopped. The rolled-up door began to descend while the train blocked the exit until the door had closed.
I looked around for an exit of my own but knew from the start if there was one, it would already be in use. People beat on the walls in hopes of finding some weak spot. Others joined in, and there was less pressure on me. With the pressure off me and some room, I, unlike the rest, pushed through the crowd to the back wall. As I leaned against the wall, a click sounded behind me. There was a small vertical seam running along the wall. I ran my fingers long it and felt an edge. The crowd in front had begun pushing against those behind them, and the pressure began to mount on me.
My body was pushed into the wall, and I heard another click and the line was gone. I then knew what it was, a pressure released door. Push and it opened, push again, and it seals. I shifted to the left of where the edge had been. Other bodies took my place and held pressure on the wall. I shouldered the wall, hearing the click, and the edge reappeared. I dug my finger nails into the edge and pulled. The door opened sufficiently to get my fingers inside, and I pulled hard. I could get the door open just enough to slip my body halfway in. Several people screamed in delight as they too saw the opening. I was slammed with pressure, which shoved me completely through. Due to the same pressure the door slammed shut.
I could hear the screams on the other side and knew that the panic from everyone trying to get the door open was, in fact, keeping it closed. I pushed on my side but the pressure from dozens or more bodies pressed against the outer wall was no match for me. I stepped back and looked for anything that could help pry the door open. Around me, was a narrow hall lined with stacked boxes on each side. I went to begin tearing through the boxes, but as soon as I had grabbed one, the screaming outside quickly faded. I looked back to the wall. I stepped up to where the door had been. I saw no outlines or seams. I held my ear against the surface and heard nothing. I tried pushing on the spot I had come through, but nothing moved. I slapped the surface and screamed, “Hello!” I placed my ear on the wall again, nothing.
I turned, looking back down the hall. The hall was still there, but the boxes held a more organized look. I walked down the hall between them toward a door at the end I had not noticed before. It was a plain door with a knob on the left side, when I turned the knob, the door opened. I stepped inside to a dimly lit room. The walls of the room were deep gray and computer banks ran along the wall beginning and ending just feet from each side of the door. The room was only about twenty-five to thirty feet in diameter. The computer banks ranged in height from four to six feet. Steady and blinking lights filled their surface along with screens here and there. To the left of me about the nine o’clock position stood a man in what looked to be early twentieth-century clothing. The man was jotting something down on a clipboard and seemed to be in deep thought; he had not even noticed me coming inside.
I closed the door which made a minuscule click but because the room itself was near silent the click made a small echo, startling the man. He jerked as though hit with an electric jolt and spun to face me. He nearly dropped the clipboard as he stammered out,
“Who are you?” he let out in a quick snap. “How did you get in here?” he added. I decided to answer his second question first. I turned a bit and glanced at the door.
“The door,” I answered him.
“That’s impossible!” he shouted, “That door is dead bolted from inside here,” I turned back to the door and searched for the deadbolt.
“There is no deadbolt,” I informed him. “Matter of fact,” I said while still looking at the door, ” there are no locks at all, even on the knob.” He rushed toward me. I thought he was on the attack and stepped to the side as he came head on but he stepped by me and up to the door. He inspected the door just above the knob.
“This should not have happened. This room including the door is in the neutral zone.”
“Well those people out there are in a panic and need help,” I told him. “Can you help them or are you causing their problem?”
“What people?” he asked.
“At the other end of the hall, in that warehouse,” I raised my voice at him.
“Warehouse?” he asked, surprised. “There’s nothing out there but dessert.”
I did not know what he was talking about but my concern was the warehouse full of people.
“We have to help those people,” I told him.
“What people? What are you talking about?” he asked.
I stepped over and pulled the door open and pointed out.
“There!” I glanced down the hall and was stunned.
The hall was replaced by the great outdoors. The outer door and frame had small leafy vines growing over the surface. Beyond the door, a wide-open expanse of field and trees grew sporadically. I stood stunned by the sight in front of me. My left hand held my balance against the door, but suddenly the door slipped out of my grip, and I nearly stumbled. The door slammed hard and the man screamed out, “This is a controlled environment.” I looked into his reddened face, only inches from mine. “I don’t know who you are or how you managed to get in here but, keep your hands off everything and do not open that door again.” He snapped the pointer finger of his right hand at the door while staring me in the face. He turned and rushed back to his console.
“There were people in some sort of trouble, an entire warehouse full of them,” I spoke out to him.
“Obviously they no longer exist,” he replied, his eyes never leaving the console screen.
He never gave my comment a second thought and went back to study his panel. Now that I looked, his anxiety seemed to be more on his work than my being there.
“What exactly is going on?” I asked.
“I’m a Chronologist. I’ve been able to create an existing path between the past, present and future. That computer,” he pointed to the six feet high box to the right of me, “bounces anything inside this cavern from the past to the future. The cavern has gone unchanged in the past millions of years to the far future. That way I can travel through time without effecting anything. However,” he snapped impatiently, “my established boundaries are somehow moving.”
As I watched him, his suit began to change. It went from the black overcoat, black pants and white shirt to a light-blue shirt and gray pants. When I looked at his face, it too had changed. His facial hair was gone, and his hair was several shades lighter. Although the cave itself stayed the same, the computers and panels changed shapes and places. Some vanished while others appeared in different places around the room.
“You’re changing the flow of time and the evolution of your world,” I informed him.
“What are you talking about? Nothing has changed.” Without looking at me, he tapped the graph on the display in front of him. “This cave is a neutral zone, that’s why I choose it.”
“The cave isn’t changing, you and your equipment are,” I told him.
“That’s ridiculous,” he said. While making the comment his hair went blond and his body trimmed down as his height gained more than two inches. “I’m the same as I’ve always been,” he finished.
I was going to make a comment on his appearance change again but it would not help. He was making small changes in the past which effected his body and mind while I was the observer.
“Are you changing?” he asked sarcastically. I knew it really was not a question but I answered him just the same.
“No, because I’m not from this time line or dimension. Changes here won’t affect me.”
“Then leave!” he demanded. “You are disturbing me and my work.”
In the time it took him to speak the sentence, his form shrank down to about five feet tall. His waist line increased greatly, and his face became fat, wrinkled and red like an alcoholic. His clothes became a suit that looked as if he had been wearing it for days.
“The only changes here are the equipment and the debris I cleaned out.” As he was stating this his waist slimmed and his face narrowed. His skin turned a light tan color. Along with his look, his demeanor calmed. The suit went to a two piece toga.
“What debris?” I asked. His attention went from his display to me and he explained patiently as his demeanor changed. “Just rocks covering the floor,” he said and went back to monitoring the displays.
A thought came to me. “Where did the rocks come from?”
He looked at me. “From the cave roof of course.” Before he could turn his gaze from me, I hit him with another question.
“How?” I asked.
“Age, tremors, earthquakes. It could have been a number of causes. What would that have to do with anything. The cavern has been here for millions of years.”
“That’s right. Also, you have had the computer here for millions of years. Just think about all the tremors and earthquakes it has gone through. All your equipment is sitting on hard ground. That would put a lot of stress on electronics being shaken up.”
The stones that made up the cavern suddenly seemed to swell. As the surfaces expanded they flowed over the computers and panels that made up the lab. The screens went dead and the man let out a scream.
“No!” he shouted. As he screamed, his form shrunk down to about four feet tall. His skin became a leathery brown and his clothing changed over to something like a gray jumpsuit.
“Get out!” he yelled at me as he ran past. I took notice that his new form also had his arms and legs the same length. As he ran, he had dropped to all fours and sped past galloping. I followed him outside. Once we were clear of the cave, we came to a stop and turned. The entrance was gone, and nothing remained of the existence of the cave. Before us was nothing but a sheer high cliff. There came a small high-pitched voice behind us, and we turned together.
Another small being resembling the Chronologist stood looking at us. The Chronologist said something back in the same high-pitched tone. The two began chatting back and forth but in some language I could not understand. The Chronologist waved his short arms at the wall, and I knew he was explaining all that had transpired. I left the two and went to explore this world.
The sun was very bright and of a strong white color. The sky was a milky white and may be had the slightest touch of blue. The cliff where the cave was stretched from horizon to horizon. The land I stood on was flat as far as I could see. I could tell all of it had been level at one time but either the part I stood on had sunken or the cliff had risen.
The flat land looked more like a dying orchard of short stocky bushes holding old looking fruit. Strange machines floated motionless three feet off the ground. To my right, one was an old tanker that may have held water. Its surface and lower nozzle covered in rust. Open cavities which once held hoses had rotted away. I walked over to it. The tank may have been around a 1,000-gallon capacity and was mounted on a large one inch thick metal plate. All the machines seem to be mounted to a similar plate. This may have been some material that caused it to maintain a floating height of three feet from the ground. I gave the tanker a small push, and the vessel moved with ease. After it moved away from my hand, it glided for a couple of yards and came to a slow smooth stop.
Not too far off hovered another piece of equipment. This looked like the arm of an excavator. The arm, like the tank, was set on a plate. The base of the arm sat inside a bowel that held the round joint of the arm. This would have allowed the arm 360 radii while also allowing for up and down movement. The base arm extended up about ten feet and met the fore arm at another elbow. The fore arm was about twelve feet long and hung down away from the base at 45 degrees. The end of the arm held a three limb claw. The tips look as if they would be used for plowing while the grip was small enough to pick or plant crops. Even with the weight of the arm extended beyond the edge of the plate, the plate had no tilt.
I heard a commotion back toward the cliff wall. I turned and saw the chronologist prying off the panel of what looked to be some strange tractor. It was a simple square looking box with a seat on top. The seat and controls sat on a pedestal which again was all mounted in the plate. The being we had encountered was jumping up and down chatting loudly. Once he grabbed the chronologist’s arm and tried to pull him away. The chronologist just pushed him away. I guessed the chronologist had been looking for resources in order to rebuild his time machine. Darkness fell quickly over me and when I looked around, I was in my bed. The dream came to an end.