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DREAM WORLD
A sequel to "Daydream Reality"

* * * * * * * * *

"All the world over... it's so easy to see... people everywhere just wanna be free.." The ragtag group of musicians had gathered in the soundproof basement, jamming along to whatever tunes came to mind. It really didn't matter what they played-- as long as it was music.

"Great job you guys." Kez unplugged his bass guitar, carefully setting it down before heading up the stairs. "I'll be right back."

Stepping into the darkened main room, Kez couldn't help but shiver a little. When they all went 'underground' for a few hours during the day, the house took on the aura of an abandoned building. Of course that was the intention, but it didn't make the whole situation any less frightening. Hell, they were being hunted like dogs. This genocide against music, and consequentially, happiness, was enough to sicken even the strongest of men.

He pulled open a cabinet, removing a few boxes of crackers, and was about to head back down when a scratching at the doorknob snapped him to attention. Damn. He grabbed a metal curtain rod from the far corner and drew himself into a crouch, preparing to brain the next person through that door. Prowlers really ticked him off.

The door's old lock shuddered under what he could only assume was the poking and prodding of a lock pick. Kez tensed as the slow, rhythmic 'scritch' of the pick slowly gave way to one long, drawn out screech of the knob being turned. As the door moaned slowly open, he leapt out from his hiding place when---

"Put that thin' away!" A familiar Texas accent hissed from the form silhouetted in the doorway.

"Mike?" Kez squinted.

"Don't even joke like that, shotgun." Jeff's voice betrayed a high level of anxiety.

"Sorry... I didn't know if anyone else was with you." Kez falteringly apologized. "What's up? You guys decided to play afterall?"

"No," George walked in behind Jeff. "We're goin' 'ome."

Kez's jaw hit the floor. "You're kidding! But I thought that you guys---"

"That was before we started havin', let's call 'em, 'memory lapses'." Jeff explained.

"Memory lapses?" Kez stared blankly.

"For example, LB called George Davy." Aaron added.

"Well, that could happen to anyone! You could have just gotten confused and---"

"I called LB 'Big Peter'. And the best part of it is, I don't remember doing that."

"Oh." Kez bit his lip. "Oh no! I thought... this shouldn't have... no way could that have happened."

"Well, it did and now regardless of your 'shouldn't haves', we need your help to send us back."

Jeff stared at himself in the mirror on the far wall for a brief moment. "So... what's happenin' to us, oh great Nutty Professor?"

"When this happens, how long does it last?" Kez ignored the previous statements, lost in his own thoughts.

"Few seconds, I guess," Jeff was rather irked at being completely ignored, "but what I wanna know is---"

"Whew. Then you guys are safe... for now." Kez relaxed a bit, despite the fact that the others in the room were far from being put at ease by his statement.

Jeff grimaced. "It's that 'for now' part that I don't dig."

Kez tried his best to explain. "I didn't create the technology that brought you guys here! I just pirated it off of that crazy scientist's machine and used it. Eric was the real scientist," he added bitterly, "and musician."

Everyone else paused at this. This was the first time the fifth man time displaced had been mentioned. Eric had come along for the ride, unwillingly, the first time Aaron, LB, Jeff, and George were pulled into this dimension. Oddly, no one had talked about him. Maybe they had all been praying, hope against hope, that Eric hadn't wound up coming along this time too, and thought that even mentioning his name would make him suddenly appear.

Kez, on the other hand, just missed his best friend, they realized. It had also become apparent that he had attempted to fill Eric's very large shoes. The responsibility must have been a terrible burden to bear.

It all adds up. Jeff mused. He wants to fight for this cause so desperately because if he fails, he feels like he's letting his best buddy down. Everything Eric loved is in danger of being wiped out of this world. Kez knows that Eric has another life, but he wants to keep this one intact just in case Eric ever comes back here. With this realization, the bottled up anger within Jeff began to dissipate. Kez's attempt to bring the Monkees back was out of desperation, not for something as trivial as a social call. It was a plea for help in a situation that had grown out of his control. Why does it have to make so much sense? He rolled his eyes as he realized something else. Enough sense that I'm willing to stay at put my life at risk as well. Who knows how much longer we can keep this ruse up before either we're found out or these memory lapses become permanent?

A glance passing from LB's face to George's, to Aaron's, was all that he needed. The stakes had been raised, and despite that, they would remain here.

"Eric would have wanted you guys to choose. I won't keep you here against your will. Especially if the technology is starting to destabilize it would be particularly dangerous to---" Kez began, possibly sensing what the others had been thinking.

"Kez?" Jeff said softly.

"It was pretty stupid, huh? I mean, what right did I have, yanking you guys out of your real lives like I was some kind of Gestapo officer----"

"Kez??" He tried a little louder than before.

"Man, I must be pretty selfish to---"

"KEZ!!" All four shouted in unison.

"---What?" He stopped short suddenly.

"The answer is 'yes'. We'll stay. Things have changed, like you said, but we'll stick it out. We aren't going to quit either, until you get your music back." Aaron smiled, casting a glance at Jeff. They really had been thinking the same thing all along.

* * * * * * * * *


"Someone give me a G?" LB called over his shoulder as he carefully tuned his--- no, Peter's--- guitar. Promptly, Kez picked up a spare guitar string laying on the floor and handed it over, grin on his face. "Har har." Old jokes never die, they keep getting reused and reused and reused...

It was silly, but correcting himself on such minor details as referring to the guitar as Peter's instead of his, was exactly what LB felt he had to do. Kez explained that the lapses were only going to get worse, so underlining his true identity would fight back and fill in those blank spots.

"How ya holdin' up?" Jeff walked over, Gretsch slung casually over his left shoulder.

LB shrugged. "As well as can be expected. It's hard, Jeff." He stared down at the instrument in his hands and could almost feel his skin crawl when he realized holding the thing felt as natural as slipping into a pair of shoes.

"Yeah, I know, shotgun." Jeff winced as he realized he had just used a Mike-ism. Walking back over to the left side of the stage, he murmured, "B'lieve me, I know."

"Whoo-hoo! Let's hear it for The Monkees!" One of the guys Kez had introduced earlier, whooped. What was his name again? Ronny? The others in the room looked as excited as a group of children at the amusement park. "This is just the boost we need to prove to those pencil-pushing busybodies that we mean business!"

Various shouts of approval came from the dozen or so men, scattered about the room.

"So... play somethin' you goiys!" A Brooklyn accent belonging to the bass guitarist, Tony, echoed in the carefully soundproofed basement.

Jeff licked his lips anxiously. He knew from last time that they had the abilities of The Monkees to go along with the outward appearance, but there was still a touch of something--- the buzz of a live performance.

The opening riff segued neatly into Aaron's opening vocals as LB slid over to the keyboard, guitar having been satisfactorily tuned.

You tell me that you've never been this way before
You tell me things I know that I've heard somewhere
You're standing in the places
And you're staring down through faces
That bring to mind traces
Of a girl,
A girl that I knew somewhere

While playing, LB couldn't help but muse at how natural the setting had become. His discomfort had vanished the second the four of them began to play and work together as a group.--- He had always loved playing the harpsichord part of this song. It was offbeat and quirky and different from a lot of the other stuff they did. The day Mike had brought the basic melody to him and asked him to write in some additional parts was--- Damn! Out! Out! Out!

Well, goodbye, dear
I just can't take this chance again
My fingers are still burning
From the last time...

It hit LB then. Fighting off Peter's personality had become ten times harder while playing these all-too-familiar tunes.

And if your love was not a game
I only have myself to blame
As that may be, I can't explain
Just ask the girl
The girl that I knew somewhere

LB had to talk to the guys. The situation had just gotten a whole lot more complex.

"Groovy, man!" Ronny practically skipped over like a little boy. "So we'll be seeing you at the rally tomorrow afternoon." It wasn't a question this time. It was more like stating a something Ronny took advantage of as fact.

Before LB could say anything in protest, a loud commotion outside snapped everyone to attention. Almost as a unit, they all hit the ground, not making a sound.

"What's going on?" LB asked fearfully.

One of the guys, (who LB noted, Kez hadn't introduced to them) whirled. "Shhhhh! Tork! You wanna get us all killed?"

Unconsciously, LB retreated from the frightening man. He scrambled over next to Jeff, Aaron, and George, clinging to the first for dear life.

"Calm down, man!" Jeff tried to shake him off. "Yer actin' like some kinda baby."

LB whimpered. "I can't help it! I'm scared."

"What a ba---" Aaron cut himself off. The Peter of the TV series was the clingy, sensitive one. What was that line again? Oh yeah. "He cries at card tricks." LB's actions meant only one thing. He was slipping again. Aaron shook LB's shoulder a bit. "Snap out of it. You're doing 'it' again."

The others around the room, not in on the secret, stared blankly.

"--- It. Uhm... getting my sleeve wet! How many times have I said to use a Kleenex, Pete?"

"It's da copper's." Tony chose to ignore the strange behavior of the guys across the room. No wonder they hadn't managed to climb the fame ladder very far-- they were wacko! "Just stay down an' dey should be gone in a minute."

Kez's eyes were wide. "You don't think that they know what we're planning?"

"They couldn't!" Ronny replied immediately, driving away the thought as fast as possible. "No one in this room would tell. Plus, anyone else who knows is practically under a blood oath of secrecy."

* * * * * * * * *


"No one was there boss, I swear."

"Why am I suddenly so certain that you weren't looking hard enough?" A man in a well-cut, tailored suit stood in profile against the picture window in his office. The nameplate on the desk read in big, gold lettering: Mayor Sidney "The Boss" Weitmagen. All his 'special associates' referred to him by his nickname though. The Boss controlled everything that went on in the city, and he intended to keep it that way.

Outside, the city bustled along as it always had, unaware of the underhanded mafia-esque dealings going on in the skyscrapers towering over them. Although it could be argued that they knew alright, but they simply opted to ignore the seedy underbelly of the city. Maybe they were hoping that it would simply take care of itself and eventually go away. These very people of inaction had led to the corruption of City Hall by sitting back and watching. It really was true what they said-- no decision is a decision.

"The kid could have lied to us, boss."

"No way in hell." Weitmagen barked harshly. "He's too off-kilter to be that smart. Ranting and raving all day long." He mimicked the tone of their captive's voice. " 'It was just supposed to b-b-be a movie!' ", he broke off to have a good laugh, "Pshaw! You know as well as I do that he's a loony."

"A loony whose rantings turned this whole town on its ear."

"Never underestimate the power of irony." The boss chuckled and leaned back in his chair. He picked up a small paperweight off the table, which, if one were to examine in detail, would find was far more powerful than its outward appearance would suggest. This little orb had been the key to his rise to power. Jumping dimensions and coming back with knowledge of the future was a surefire way of keeping yourself in power for a very long time.

"You're a genius, sir." A second of Weitmagen's goons proclaimed.

The boss nodded happily, as if saying that he had known it all along himself. "Find those musicians-- especially those Monkees. We can't let them go through with their plan."