The inner core is the outer part of the collective subconsious. Its the thick boundary between the individual subconsiousness and the outer part of the collective subconsious. The inner part of the collective subconsious is uncertain, strange, ever changing and conspicuos. And this is the story of the the inner part of the collective subconsious, also known as "The inner core".
Sarah: Baxter, this is for you.
Sarah showed a few old papers in a folder across a worn desk to the short, broad man in a trenchcoat that is called "Baxter".
Baxter: Ok, so whats is this one about?
Sarah poured herself another cup of tea and gave one to Baxter as she thought of an answer. She tried to hide her initial feelings that filled her as Baxter asked the question: fear and loathing. She could feel her cheeks blushing somewhat.
Baxter: So its that bad huh?
A heavy sigh that made ripples in the office air escaped Sarahs lungs as she sank further into her worn leather couch. She could not look at him.
Baxter had to think quickly: Soon Sarahs next appointment would begin, his small timeslot, limited by the councils new regulations, was soon over. Baxter looked at his watch, it stood still as always and he just remembered watches dont work in the Inner Core courthouses. He had to extract all the important information Sarah wanted not to know about, or was unwilling to say about the case he was assigned to. He needed to stay out of danger, so he needed to know why this case was dangerous. What could be dangerous in such a way that the court magistrates feared to put it into paper? If the runner was somehow tied to the council, had some dirt on them? Or if the runner was just so dangerous that no seeker would take the job? Or maybe it was something with Sarah. Maybe it was someone she knew. Finally Baxter had an idea he was going to... He was interrupted byt the secretary, a big, yellow and white two headed snake with arms who opened the door with the next appointed person behind her: An elderly man with a hunchback and daggers at his belt. Baxter got up.
Baxter: Thanks for the tea!
Sarah nodded.
Baxter closed the door and turned to the secretary.
Baxter: Hey uh have you seen this dude around here? He withdrew a polaroid photo from the folder, a handsome forty something year old man with long brown hair and a white shirt.
The secretary: Yeesss, i ssse him day before sssaussageday.
Baxter: Oh perfect!
Baxters small eyes flashed with intense light
Baxter: Was he talking to Sarah?
The secretary: Oh yeessss, very nice ssssmeell, for a human.
Baxter: Perfume?
Secretary: Oh no!
The Secretary looked disgusted at the mentioning of perfume.
The secretary: No jussst nice, like healty musssclesss, gooood bone.
Baxter: You dont know what they where talking about?
The secretary: Oh no, thatsss unpolite.
Baxter: Yeah, sure i understand. Well thank you very much, ill bring you a rat next time i come here.
The secretary: Oooh yeeeessssss.
The secretary swayed gently in waves. She seemed excited. Baxter left the office in a hurry. Baxter made his way through a throng of people outside in the big hall in the courthouse. They where all different sizes, colors, shapes and consiousness. There where small white snakes slowly gliding through the air on translucent wings. A few human bikers drinking beer while waiting for their appointment. A large puff of orange smoke who contained some kind of consiousness who spoke only telepathicly. Horrible mounds of big worms slowly crawling along the floor in an agitate way. Hairy one ton beasts with enormous tusks lumbering along carrying huge loads of paperwork. Highly intelligent holy rodents speaking in small soft voices. Parrots singing dirty songs while smoking cigarrs held by small apes. And at the exits where the tarts, whores, concubines and a few seals who got stranded on land. Baxter had to focus at the task at hand in order to be able to concentrate while navigating through those who lived by selling themselves as well as the seals. A giant slug dressed in a bikini blocked the narrow halway. It spoke in deep wet voice:
Tart: Hey sailor where yah goin? Can i come along, lets have some fun and what not? Yah tried some o my slime its way delicious if you heat it up a little before you eat it?
Baxter: No thanks. Sorry i cant stop to chat and such, but i hear Sarah over there in office number 94 has a thing for hermafrodite slugs. You are one of those arent you?
Tart: Hey baby i can be what ever yah want me to be!
The slug lifted a flap of skin and five organs where clearly visible while at least five more where slowly protruding from crevases and holes.
Baxter: Oh that is very nice, must come in handy in case you or your client is getting bored. Well i wish you good luck with Sarah.
The slug smiled at Baxter, or at least he suspected so and Baxter smiled back while the slug slowly crawled away towards Sarahs office. Baxter did not have a habit of lying, and neither did he this time. After Sarahs first wife, an elephant woman who worked part time as a car mechanic while trying to make it as a singer/songwriter in sleepy half forgotten taverns in the underworld, she took a fancy for slugs and have been on that path for about thirteen years.
As Baxter exited the courthouse he had to concentrate in order to handle the fast return of normal paced events also known as "time". Something where put into and came aware of things going on from a very "now" and "here" perspective.
Baxters mind came into old habitual patterns. I need to keep my mantra for a while. I am Beaufort. I am a human. I am a collective commonality, yet a singular, separate state of being. I have collections of memories whom i refer to as "me". These ideas are not lies, they are simply limited ideas. I am Beaufort. I am a human. I am...
While Beaufort formerly known as Baxter soundlessly repeated his Mantra he made his way through a busy street. The cobblestones kept shifting and moving slowly while the department of logistics diesel trucks driven by lazy pigmen tried navigating through a moist crowd of fishsalesmen, cannibals, bank clerks, hitmen and drug enforcerer cops.
One of the cops where looking at Beaufort. She did not seem happy to see him. Although Baxter did like her appearance in general. He wondered if she wanted to have sex later. On the other hand, might be a hermafrodite, but no matter. She had that new thin plastic armor and an ass worth looking at that just fills that yellow armor, two well rounded chunks of lovelyness. And she seemed to have some kind of hair under that helmet. Beaufort liked a bit of hair on the head. Although it was not that important. Beaufort could easily just look at those shoulders for a few days. He even wanted to kiss her kneecaps for at least a week. He wondered if she smelled nice. Beaufort came to the conclusion she probably did. She came over to Beaufort. This is just fantastic he thought.
The cop: So you a licensed starer or you just stare on your free time?
She had kind of desicive, yet caring tone to her voice. The cop eyed him from top to bottom. My oh my she do smell just lovely, thought Beaufort. No purefume or anything and its not the armor.
Beaufort: Well yeah ive got my papers in order.
Beaufort rummaged through his coat pocket who where moving rapidly across his coat so as to avoid his hand. Finally he found the right license among a small collection, only the important ones, the rest he had left at home. The cop eyed the license carefully and compared the drawing on it to Beauforts real face.
The cop: Yeah thats fine. So you have any drugs on you?
Beaufort rummaged through his inner pockets for a while and came up with a small glass flask and dangled it in front of the cop.
The cop: Oh thats good otherwise i might have to enforce some drugs on you. What is that one?
Beaufort: Think it cures hepatythus or something. Or it might be AIDS it cures. Not sure.
The cop seemed kind of worried. She made sure her armor was respectable, brushed off some dust and came up with a small plastic bag of white powder from one of her pockets.
The cop: You need some proper narcotics i think. What you got there is earth medicin, thats not what this months decree is about.
She dangled the bag of powder in front of Beauforts face.
Beaufort: So what does that stuff do?
The cop: Well its made from baby starfish dreams so it makes you dream of the ocean. Think you will enjoy this one.
Beaufort: And no baby starfish where harmed in the process. Beaufort raised an eyebrow? The cop seemed offended.
The cop: Of course not, these are proper drug enforcement agency drugs!
Beaufort: Oh sorry. Thats super nice.
The cop: Sure ok you be on your way and dont let me bother you further. Now you have some proper non dangerous drugs approved for home use.
Beaufort: Hey there is one other thing.
The cop: What?
Beaufor: Do you want to make love?
The cop: To who?
Beaufort: To me of course.
The cop: No.
Beaufort: Why not?
The cop: You really want to know? The cop shifted her weight and seemed uncomfortable.
Beaufort: Yes i want to know.
The cop: You are a squirt. You are not much more then a metre tall and youre face are totally hideous. Ive dated vomit for breakfast that was a lot more beautiful then you. Thats one of the reasons why i think you need those drugs.
Beaufort: What other reasons might there be?
The cop: Well for just asking that you gotta be dumb as shit too. Its not like i want you to stay indoors and do drugs, but its preferable to have you running around on the streets making people womit with that hideous face of yours.
Beaufort: Thats sort of mean. Even if you are just being honest. I feel really hurt.
The cop: Well just go home and take the drugs, you might feel better afterwards.
Beaufort dropped the drugs on the pavement and swung his fist at the cop real fast. The glass shattered and pieces of plastic where embedded into the cops beautiful face and she staggered backwards. Beaufort charged her at mid height and smashed into her throwing her into the crowd. She landed on a rowdy group of badgers selling trinkets. Three of them sprawled on the street while three others where still sort of confused. Beaufort pushed his way through the crowd hurredly while the badgers seemed able to say all sorts of bad things about Beauforts mother even though none of them had ever met her.
Beaufort ran for a few blocks. He slowed down when he started seeing big trees and a heavy fog up ahead. Beaufort needed a few answers before he went after the handsome man in the photo. At the edge of the forest giant mosquitos where selling rations, water and machetes. Beaufort made a quick deal exchanging a small iron toy automobile in mint condition for one of each item from a hung over mosquito in sun glasses and then he started along one of the trails leading deep into the forest. All three items where worn, as visitors of the forest had bought the items and sold them back to the mosquitos many times. Quickly the sounds of the city evaporated in the heavy jungle fog. Evening was coming. Beaufort had not entered the forest on the best of occations. Spending the night in the forest without a net for insect protection was not preferable. Maybe he would find another mosquito vendor who carried nets. But he had no luck. As darkness crept closer he had to stop. He gathered moss that he sprawled out and then big leaves on top. While he was hard at work hacking off leaves two black panthers came into the clearing. They where slowly circling closer in a menacing way.
The small panther: Oy! Little human what are you doing in our forest. It had a nasal, draggin voice.
Beaufort: Im no human and i sure as hell dont taste like one. Ive got business with the boneman.
The big panther: Ok ok, we get it. Sorry for disturbing you at this late hour. Said the other panther in a very polite manner and they both left in a hurry.
Beaufort laid down on his improvised bed and swept his coat about himself. Sleep did not come quickly. He listened to see if the panthers would come back. After a few hours he was sure they wouldnt so he fell asleep. When he woke up he found out that small, red ants had got themselves a meal on the flesh on his back. It was itching like hell. He had to get to the boneman. There was antidote for the itching at his compound.
Beaufort started along the trail again, hoping it was the right one. It seemed he had forgotten something. What was it? You where supposed to do something before you went to the boneman. Did it had to do with pleasing him? Oh yeah, Beuafort had forgotten to bring a present to the boneman. And it had to be something he really needed otherwise he wouldnt be let into the compound. Beaufort only had two choices, go back and get a present, or go to the ruins and look for one. Beaufort chose the ruins.
When the light of the sun started waning, Beaufort found the ruins. Flat gray surfaces, cracked by jungle plants, and buildings painted in red with white corners and windows. Most of the buildings where made of wood and insulation with a concrete foundation, but most on most of them the roofs had caved in. Beaufort knew a few rouge cyborgs, less friendly cannibals and beavers with very sharp teeth who often hid in these ruins after commiting their usual atrocities. So Beaufort wish he had a really big gun that makes explosions or shoots a lot of bullets. But the position of humanlike creatures in the courthouse was not very good, the union had gone to shit the last thirty years. Beauforts monthly wages had gone from 10 kilos of beans, 60 kilos of rice and two bars of silver, to just 5 kilos of assorted cheese. So Beauforts means was very limited, which afforded him no guns. Once he had hired a gun from...
As Beaufort walked into one of the houses filled with his own thoughts he walked right into someones living room. Two grown and two kid racoons where eating beans and rice on a small table. The parents sprung into defensive postures and try to look as menacing as is possible when you weigh something in the vicinity of six kilos.
Beaufort: Oh sorry, i dont mean to disturb you and i want you no harm. Im just here to find a present for the boneman and then im off again.
The raccoons seemed to relax somewhat.
The female raccoon: We are simple folk who merely loan this present, and may i say vacant space.
The raccoon spread her arms around and looked at the objects in the living room. Small animals made of glass or clay adorned the shelves. Oil paintings of distant landscapes hung on the walls. In the corners of the room pretty stones where piled. And in the middle the table with the raccoons eating their dinner under burning candles. Beaufort could feel strands of unseen energy flow through the raccoon.
Beaufort: So you are mages?
The female Raccoon: What name you choose for our practices are your concern alone. Elh is a name you can associate me with. My husband you can call Rah. The little ones are Aeh and Isa. All four of them bowed and said "Gooday".
Beaufort sat down.
Beaufort: Well im Beaufort.
Elh: What brings you here to this forgotten place Beaufort?
Beaufort: Well im looking for a present to the boneman.
Elh: You said so. But why is it that you want to see the mystic?
Beaufort: I need to find someone. Its work related.
Elh: What kind of work?
Beaufort was not comfortable telling about his work to unknown raccoons. They had a reputation of sharing information with each other.
Beaufort: There is a person i need to find, its not important, its nobody you know.
Elh: I will be the judge of that.
Rah: Now now...
Rah patted Elh on the hand.
Rah: You must excuse our ways. Our ways are not the ways of others. We are of the opinion that information must flow freely in a free society. And Elh is rather persistant in her pursuit. We are asociates of the boneman. In recent times we have made a deal with the less permanent residents of this place. They can come here and ask for a little bit of food, but in return they shall seek other dwelling places. And we dont ask who they are or why they are here. You probably wonder why not some more fearsome guardians of this place instead of raccoons. Beaufort raised and eyebrow. Rah continued: Do not judge us by the size of our teeth.
A dark blueish fluid darkness gathered while Elhs eyes became bright as the sun. She stared at Beaufort and a soundless voice echoed in his mind: Carry this to the world outside: This place us under the protection of the order of the blue serpent. None shall dwell or pass here except with permission of the order. The fluid darkness evaporated and the room was back to normal. Beaufort shuddered and his mind raced.
The blue serpent, these guys are ancient to say the least. They cant be hired or coaxed into anything and they go and come as they please. They travel can travel outside of time and mold reality as well as ideas. But why had they come here? What was so special about these ruins? Maybe this runner had something to do with the order. And why was the boneman cooperating with the order? The boneman was usually proud of the fact that he managed to keep neutral. Either Beaufort could make everything known and tell the Raccoons everything he knew in order to get help with his case, or he could just leave. Involving oneself with the order of the blue serpent ment giving up a lot of room for ones own pursuits. But Beauforts loyalty towards the court had been declining rapidly in recent times, and this was his chance to get free.
Beaufort: Ok, im going to be honest with you. Im after a runner. The court sent me to find this man and capture him if possible. Beaufort withdrew his folder and placed it on the dinner table. There seems to be a lot of things the court is not willing to tell me about this man.
Isa and Aeh yawned and Rah took them upstairs. Elh opened the folder and looked at the picture of the man Beaufort was supposed to hunt down.
Elh: The court would prefer to get you into the abyss. Why is not something i can answer as of yet. This man would bring you there is you met him.
Beaufort: Im not so sure, i know a few tricks.
Elh: Not something that would work on this man. Elhs eyes where cold and hard.
Beaufort: I see. Beaufort sank down where he sat.
Elh: Perhaps you know to much, perhaps you have been asking uncomfortable questions, perhaps you are gaining influence where you are not supposed to gain influence. Beaufort sighed.
Beaufort: Well i am not certain of either of those things. Perhaps i have been asking a few questions too much, being a curious person as i am.
Elh: That might be it, i dont know.
Beauforts buried his head in his hands. He was distressed.
Elh: Look, you cant stay here unless you are under the protection of the order. And the order does not know you other then possibly on the surface. Meaning what ever good intentions you might have, is not of any consequence to the order.
Beaufort: Cant i make a deal with the order?
Elh: What sort of deal would that be?
Beaufort: I dont know. How about if work for the order?
Elh: Thats a possibility but your intentions and abilities is not known to the order and we would need time to evaluate this before taking any further steps. Besides, nobody chooses to enter the orders protection, the order chooses who it protects. Same thing with entering the order itself, but that is even further away when considering which series of events must take place first.
Beaufort: So what is the nature of the relationship between the boneman and the order?
Elh: Im not at liberty to disclose details, but i can tell you that we are cooperating.
Beaufort: But the boneman usually try to stay out of things, how come he changed his mind?
Elh: That you will have to ask the boneman.
Beaufort: Ok. So how can i get a hold of a fitting present for the boneman?
Elh: That i surely can tell you. The catacombs of ancient Paris. Its not far from here, its right between the trenches of world war one and the plains of ash. Elh smiled.
Beaufort: Thats not a geographical description is it?
Elh: No a conceptual one.
Beaufort: Look im almost human, i dont know all the fancy things you do in the order. I dont know how to travel like that, i can only get there on foot and i dont even have any idea which direction to get there.
Elh: Well i gave you an answer. If you want another one, ask someone else.
Beaufort stood up, bowed and walked out of the ruined housel
