The Lost Level Read Free Page B

from the door, lest any fumes cross over from that
level to mine. Another time, I glimpsed a world populated by what I think were
robots, but nothing lived there, either—at least nothing constructed of flesh
and blood and other organic material. The last alien level I saw was a city
composed entirely of crystal. It, too, was empty and lifeless, and so utterly
alien in architecture and dimensions that I grew uneasy just gazing upon it.
After watching it for too long, my stomach turned nauseous and my vision grew
blurry.
    That wasn’t how I felt when I first gazed upon the Lost Level,
though. You must remember that I didn’t know that’s what it was upon that
initial encounter. When I first saw it, I was transfixed by the beauty and
splendor of a lush, green, tropical jungle. I saw palm fronds and ferns gently
bobbing in the wind, and a white–tailed deer with velvet–coated antlers
nibbling at some low–hanging leaves. Mistaking the dimension for an alternate
reality of my Earth, I stepped through the doorway. In doing so, I startled the
deer, who ran away. The ground was soft beneath my feet, a mixture of white
sand and soil. The air was warm and humid, but a cool breeze caressed my scalp
through my crew cut. I sighed, then smiled.
    “This is paradise,” I murmured. “Maybe I’ll stay here awhile.”
    A buzzing insect hovered around my ear. I slapped at it and then
turned back to the door.
    But the doorway was gone.

2

BLADES OF GRASS

    AT FIRST, I
WAS TOO shocked to do much more than stare. I was certainly too
surprised to even think about being scared. I turned around, and blinked, but
when I looked again, the door was still gone. Stunned, I ran back to the spot
where it had been and put my hands out, feeling for it, but they passed through
the air and met no resistance. The door hadn’t just closed. If that had been
the case, I would have still been able to see it there, or at the very least
feel it. No, this was something far worse. The door through the Labyrinth—and
my only way back home—had vanished.
    Only then did the fear set in. I’m ashamed to say that I
whimpered like a lost puppy. My frightened sobs grew louder and more frantic,
with no concern for who or what might hear me, until I finally began to rave
like a madman. I just kept repeating “No” over and over again, so fast that the
words just sort of blended together. It sounded more like “Nuhnuhnuh” than
anything intelligible, and had anyone saw me, they would have thought me
insane. Perhaps I was. I certainly felt so at that moment; crazed with terror
at the prospect of being trapped on another world or dimension—whichever it
was, I didn’t know, but neither possibility appealed to me. In desperation, I
tried the invocation again, but without the proper accoutrements, the ritual
was useless. I ended up on my knees, clawing at the dirt and crying out, but
the door didn’t return. The Labyrinth was sealed off, and with it, my way back
home.
    Eventually, I gathered my wits. More buzzing insects darted
around my eyes and ears, their tiny drones bringing me back to my senses. I
slapped at one as it landed on my neck and felt it squish across my palm. I
glanced down at my hand and frowned. The crushed insect looked much like a
mosquito, but its blood was bright green, the color of a lima bean, and it
smelled slightly alkaline. Wrinkling my nose, I wiped my hand on a nearby leaf.
    Moments later, my palm began to tingle and then burn. When I
looked at it, the skin was red and swelling. The pain quickly grew intense,
like a bee sting, but much stronger. Tiny welts popped up on my skin, like the
blisters caused by poison ivy. I stripped off my t–shirt and wiped away the
rest of the noxious fluid as best I could. Then, swatting the shirt back and
forth to keep the insects away (just as a cow or a horse does with its tail) I
began to make my way through the jungle. My hand throbbed. There was a small
game trail cutting through the foliage. I