REPOST: dOOm pATrOl: Wheels Within Wheels 1b/3 (so far)

[Aleph Press]

WHEELS WITHIN WHEELS: A Doom Patrol Story

by Alara Rogers

Doom Patrol (TM) is copyright DC Comics, as are all the characters within
that I didn't invent. All the characters I did invent are copyrighted to
me. This story is not intended to infringe on any copyrights and is for
non-profit purposes only.

The specific Doom Patrol incarnation this story is based on is Grant
Morrison's version. Long may he write!

This and all other Aleph Press stories are archived at ftp.netcom.com
/pub/al/aleph.

Once upon a time, Niles Caulder used to get up at 9:00, eat
breakfast, and read the paper, much as ordinary men were expected to. He
still did. Only nowadays, breakfast was likely to consist of waffles
with chocolate ice cream and a ton of chocolate sauce on them, and the
"newspapers" were computer printouts of all the interesting news stories
from the country's news services. "Interesting", in this case, meant the
sort of thing that interested Caulder nowadays, which meant things that
were very weird. Or, sometimes, only mildly weird.
"Now here's something interesting, Josh," he said, reading from his
printout. "According to this, there was a mysterious case of arson at a
gift shop in Santa Luisa. They found a woman's burnt body, lying in a
pile of glass on the floor. The wooden floor and the broken glass were
untouched by fire damage-- no burn marks, no melting-- and yet the woman
herself was burned beyond easy recognition. What does that suggest to
you?"
"In Santa Luisa?" Josh frowned. "Wasn't there something about Santa
Luisa? I can't remember..."
"Please, pay attention to the issue at hand, Joshua," Caulder said,
annoyed. "This sounds to me like a classic case of spontaneous
combustion."
"What?" Josh was not, in fact, paying attention.
"Spontaneous combustion. It's very rare; however, considering the
amount of wood in the shop and the heat it takes to burn a human body
that badly, the entire shop should have burnt down. The fact that it
didn't is very interesting."
"What's interesting?" Cliff asked, as he and Jane entered the room.
Cliff,
of course, had no use for breakfast, but he liked to sit with the others
and talk. It was one of the few social interactions that the Doom Patrol
engaged in as a whole, at least sometimes-- Rebis rarely showed up, but
Josh, Dorothy, Jane and the Chief usually did, and Cliff felt left out
if he stayed away.
"I believe there was a case of spontaneous combustion in Santa
Luisa, yesterday. Take a look." He handed the paper to Cliff. Jane read
it over his shoulder, and was done before he was.
"I thought it was only fat people that spontaneously combusted,"
Jane said.
"I didn't know it said whether she was fat or not," Josh said,
puzzled.
"It doesn't," Cliff said, looking at Jane. "Jane?"
"I just got the feeling she was skinny," Jane said. "I don't know
why."
Dorothy had been silent thus far, munching her Cocoa Puffs. Now she
said, "I read once that spontaneous combustion was just when people fell
asleep smoking."
"True in some cases," Caulder said, "but not all. I'd really like
to know more about this. I don't *think* a case of spontaneous
combustion is necessarily indicative of something else, but I do think
it *might* be significant. Josh, you had something you wanted to say?"
"Oh. Nothing. I just finally figured out when I've been to Santa
Luisa before. That was where Larry was in the hospital, before he turned
into Rebis. I don't think that has anything to do with anything."
"Possibly not. Santa Luisa is a large city. However..." Caulder
frowned. "Actually, that may have significance. Not Larry, but... To my
knowledge, the Eleanor side of Rebis resided in Santa Luisa, before
their accident. I wonder if Rebis might remember any other unusual
incidents having taken place there. Josh, could you call Rebis in here?"
Josh nodded, and left. Cliff said, "Now wait a minute. This article
doesn't say anything about spontaneous combustion. Do you want us to
investigate the woman's death, or whether it *was* spontaneous
combustion, or who she was, or what?"
"I'm not sure yet," Caulder said. "But it intrigues me. I think we
need to know more about it in general before we can tell what we need to
investigate for." He finished his waffles.
"Anybody want eggs?" Jane asked.
"That's okay, Miss Jane. I'm having cereal."
"No, thank you. I *would*, however, appreciate it if you could get
me a chocolate bar."
Cliff got the chocolate bar for the Chief, as Jane said, "Well,
*I'm* having eggs. I don't care about the rest of you."
Rebis floated in, with Josh behind hir. "[Yes?]"
"Ah, Rebis. There you are. Take a look at this," Caulder said,
handing Rebis the printout. "What do you think of this?"
Rebis was always more or less quiet, unemotional, with hes few
expressions mostly rendered invisible by the bandages. Cliff had not
thought it was possible to perceive hir going still. But he had an
overwhelming impression, watching hir, that Rebis had gone absolutely
motionless, more than hes usual stillness. "Larry? You okay?"
"[I went to her store yesterday afternoon,]" Rebis said, and placed
the printout on the table. "[She was killed by the mandala, somehow.]"
"What mandala?" the Chief asked.
"Rebis bought a wooden mandala from a gift shop yesterday," Jane
offered. She was over at the oven, frying eggs.
"[Not bought. It was given to me.]"
"What?" Jane turned. "By who?"
"[By Emily Stark. The dead woman. Who was given it to give to me.]"
"I see," the Chief said.
"[I want to investigate.]"
"Yeah," Cliff said. "Yeah, I think we'd better."

The store had been cordoned off by the police, but the police
weren't currently there. Rebis floated over the cordon, and Jane went
under it, to get into the store, while Cliff waited outside.
"[Chaotic mental imprints. Do you sense it?]"
"It's madness," Jane said. She turned slowly, her eyes wide and
cold. "The stink of madness runs throughout. Like a poisonous miasma.
The scent of blood."
"[Yes, exactly.]" Rebis lowered to the floor and bent to touch it.
It was lightly charred where Emily Stark had burned to death, as if
something hot had been touched to it for a moment and pulled away.
"[Imprinted confusion... terror. Her mind. Her mind was damaged first.
Then the fear.]"
"Find anything?" Cliff peered inside. "I don't suppose you guys
plan on looking for any mundane clues as well."
"[Nothing mundane did this.]" Rebis straightened up, but did not
lift off the ground. "[Something insane.]"
"Hollow shrieking," Jane said, and put her hands to her head.
"There are doors... screaming doors. Maybe I can..."
"Maybe you can what?" Cliff asked, stepping over the cordon on the
door and entering the shop. "What a mess."
"[She was very tidy,]" Rebis said. "[This was a harmonious place.]"
Perhaps Cliff was imagining it, but it sounded as if Rebis' voice
had the faintest tinge of sorrow to it-- which, next to Rebis's usual
impassivity, might be the equivalent of the Larry Cliff remembered
breaking down and crying. "I know," he said gently, putting a metal hand
lightly on Rebis's shoulder. "It wasn't your fault. Try not to let it
get you down."
"[What?]" Rebis turned toward Cliff. "[Oh, I see. No, it's not
getting me down. Don't worry, Cliff.]"
Cliff withdrew his hand. "But you feel *something*, don't you?"
"[Something... yes. I think so. But we're-- I'm not entirely sure
what.]"
Jane, meanwhile, had been arranging various knickknacks in a
semicircle in front of a locked storeroom door. "A gateway to madness,"
she said. "I can *feel* them. The stench of minds decayed below the
threshold. Hidden underground, buried. If I can just... A key. I need a
key."
"What're you trying to do?"
"Doorways. Opening doorways. What can I use for a key..."
"[*You* are the key. I'll help. Concentrate on madness.]"
"Yes!" Jane turned to Cliff. "We need your help, Cliff. Think about
the hospital. Think about what it was like, living there. Think about
*me* at my craziest."
"What are we trying to do?"
"[Open a gate to madness.]" Rebis floated over to the door and put
hes hand on Jane's shoulder. "[Come here, Cliff.]"
Jane stretched her opposite hand out to him. "They left through a
doorway," she said. "We're trying to open it again. Think about
madness."
Okay. That wasn't the weirdest request Cliff had been presented
with, in his days with the Doom Patrol. He thought about the people he'd
seen around him in the psychiatric hospital: schizophrenic Ralph, who'd
been the first to sense the Scissormen; Jane herself, when he'd first
met her as the Hangman's Beautiful Daughter; the peculiar smell of
insanity that emanated throughout the hospital. He thought about
madness-- and Jane opened the door.
"HYAAAGAAAGAARRAARAR!!!"
A *thing*, a deformed and shapeless thing like a shrunken head
grafted to a dozen snakes, the size of a car-- this *thing* leapt out at
them, screaming. Disembodied sexual organs and insects with the faces of
aborted fetuses buzzed in the air behind the thing, and the air was
turning to gelatin, thick and impossible to move in. The shadows of
mosquitoes buzzed out in a cloud, surrounding Jane, who fell backward
with an inhuman wail of terror.
Cliff tried to reach the door, to shut it, but the initial
explosion of madness out the door had flung them all a few paces back,
and he couldn't move forward. A soap bubble floated in from of him,
scummy with despair and the destruction of love. In its glistening
surface he saw the ruins of his shattered life. He was destroyed, cut
off forever from humanity, and all his friends were doomed to die,
leaving him the only one alive. All of them, again and again and--
He managed to get his jacket off and swing it at the bubble,
breaking it against the jacket's surface. "Rebis! Jane! *Somebody* get
that *door*!" he screamed, waving the now despairing jacket against
glass figurines that danced in and out of his field of vision. The
gelatinous air allowed him to move backwards slowly, forward not at all.
He stepped back and saw Jane, huddled in a fetal ball, still screaming.
She was being attacked by paper dolls with razor-sharp edges. Rebis,
where was Rebis? Cliff turned his head further and saw swirling
evanescent phantoms, spinning in a cloud around Rebis and almost
completely obscuring hir. "Get the *door*!" Cliff shouted.
Apparently Rebis heard him. The Negative Spirit peeled free of the
phantoms, turning in tight circles to force the clinging creatures to
release it, and then shot for the door, slamming it shut in the face of
the *thing* floating there. Immediately the gelatinous nature of the air
disappeared. There were still all sorts of awful creatures in the shop,
but now Cliff could move freely. He discovered that the things popped
like the soap bubble had when he hit them. "Jane!" he shouted, fighting
his way toward her.
Abruptly Jane stopped screaming. For a terrified second, Cliff
thought she was dead; then she shouted, "Bastards!", and threw off the
paper dolls slicing her. She metamorphosed into Black Annis, slicing the
creatures apart with her razors. "Cutting! Cutting paper dolls! Slice
and slice again-- two can play this game! Paper splits and slices!"
It was only a few minutes before Cliff, Black Annis, and the
Negative Spirit managed to eliminate all the creatures. Black Annis
metamorphosed back into someone else, who threw herself at Cliff with a
strangled sob, as the Negative Spirit rejoined Rebis, who was crumpled
up in the corner. "Oh, Cliff!" Jane, or somebody, said, hugging Cliff
desperately. "I was so *scared*!"
"Um, Jane..."
Abruptly Jane-- it probably *was* Crazy Jane now-- disengaged
herself from Cliff. "What am I *doing*?" she asked disbelievingly, and
threw her arms around herself, as if revolted by the memory of touch. "I
can't believe that whiny little bitch."
"You okay now?"
"Sure." She looked at Rebis, who had gotten to hes feet and was
brushing the dust off hes coat. "Good work, getting the door there."
Rebis nodded.
"I don't suppose either of you know what the hell that was, that we
just fought."
"[A manifestation of Madness,]" Rebis said, and floated over to the
storeroom door. S/he placed hes hand against it. "[They were-- the Mad
Ones. What we just opened was a gateway to the Deep Underground, where
the Mad Ones live.]"
"Well, whatever they were, I'm not terribly eager to tangle with
them again anytime soon. Worse than the Scissormen."
"They reminded me of the Cult of the Unwritten Book," Jane said.
"Yeah. They reminded me a *lot* of the Cult. You don't suppose any
of their goons escaped the decreation of Nurnheim?"
"[The Mad Ones aren't the Cult of the Unwritten Book. They're
similar because the Mad Ones are also a kind of cult. Worshipping
madness. Manifesting madness.]"
Jane shook her head. "You've never been in a psychiatric hospital,
have you?"
"[I spent some months as an intern at one... I think. Or was
that... no, no, I'm right. That happened.]"
Jane glanced at Cliff, including him in her "we". "Well, we were in
one recently. Those Mad Ones were considerably more extreme than most of
the madnesses I've met, and I *am* crazy. Don't you think, Cliff?"
"Me? What do I know about madness?" He shrugged. "Yeah, it was
worse than
the hospital-- but at the hospital, everybody's craziness stayed in
their *own* head. I still think it reminds me of the Cult."
"[Regardless. We've learned what we came to find out.]"
"Which is what, exactly?" Cliff asked.
"[Emily Stark's death was no accident. She was murdered by
*that*.]" Rebis gestured at the storeroom door.
"What's the connection to your mandala, then?" Jane asked.
"[I have no idea.]"
"Well, then, we *didn't* learn what we came to, did we?"
"[The next part is to investigate the Mandala itself.]" Rebis
floated over to the exit, then turned. "[Of course, if you and Cliff
feel there's something to be gained by further investigation here,
you're perfectly free to continue.]"
"Since when have we needed *your* permission?" Jane asked
belligerently.
"[I didn't say you needed my permission.]"
"Drop it," Cliff said wearily. He was getting used to Rebis's
ambiguously arrogant statements, and thought they were probably a
misguided attempt to be polite. Of course, it was impossible to know for
sure.... What he wouldn't give to see Rebis behave, just once, like
Larry used to. "If you don't think there's anything to be gained by
staying here, we'll leave."

"Well, but a gateway has been opened," Enifarren was saying.
"Who *cares*!" Guerra shouted.
"Well, but... a gateway has been opened."
"Put a *lid* on it!"
"Well, but..."
Kisvallen and Naomi ignored them. "Can you find her?" the glass boy
asked.
The girl with the spider legs didn't answer, studying the
photograph of the black woman. "Scanning," she murmured, and slipped
down...
...and back up. "Nothing. There's nothing there."
"Dead?" Kisvallen asked.
"If she were dead, there'd be resonant traces of that. No-- I can't
*find* her."
"Well, but a gateway has been opened."
Naomi nodded at Enifarren, who was tall and looked as if he had
been made of
toothpicks. "She did it," Naomi said. "Or had something to do with it. I
think... I think she closed the gate, but I'm not sure... I can't *find*
her. I'll try a spiral search."
Spiraling down....

**Naomi of the Mad Ones sees the web of life, the interconnections
between human souls. In pictures, the web can be seen, radiating forth.
Follow the burning trails of the weblines between souls. Spiraling out
along the web, she sees:
**--a man, a black man in his 30's, laughing and smiling with a
younger woman...
**--an elderly black woman with glasses, whipcord thin, a stern
face but smiling eyes...
**--a young black man with a face lined too soon from lack of
sleep, making the rounds with a cup of coffee in his hands, waking
dead...
**--a black woman just barely out of girlhood, talking animatedly
on the telephone in her cluttered dormitory, a bag of cheddar popcorn at
her hip...
**--a white man, this time, strangely vague-- blond, young,
adventurous-- somehow closer to the core of the photograph woman's being
than any other;
**--closer still, circle closer to the man, closer to the woman--
**--STATIC--**

As the three of them walked back into Doom Patrol headquarters,
Rebis put hes hands to hes head. "[Ah--]" For a second it looked like
s/he was going to fall over.
"Rebis!"
"Larry! You okay?"
Rebis straightened, lowering hes hands. "[That's very odd.]"
"What's odd? Larry, are you all right?"
"[Fine, Cliff. I just--]" S/he turned to Jane. "[You didn't hear
it, did you?]"
"Hear what?"
"[Then I'm right. It was me.]" Rebis moved past the other two and
began floating down the hall, oblivious to the questions s/he had raised
in their minds.
They moved to catch up. "Rebis, *what* was you?" Jane asked. "What
was it I didn't hear?"
"[A clairvoyant scanning wave. I felt it brush past.]"
"Scanning for what?"
"[Us. Me. I don't think it fixated.]"
"You think it has anything to do with this thing with the mandala?"
Cliff asked.
"[I don't know.]" Rebis turned and looked at the two of them.
"[Perhaps you *could* help, at that.]"
"Help *what*?" Cliff stepped closer, intruding on Rebis's space,
only one step away from grabbing hir. "Don't go all mysterious on us
again, man! Those *things* had some connection with that woman who died,
and that has some connection with the thing you bought--"
"[Not bought. It was a gift.]"
"Whatever! Lar-- Rebis, you could be in *trouble*. We need to know
what's going on!"
"[I was about to tell you.]"
"About *time*!"
"[There *is* a connection between what we fought in the store, and
the Mandala. I'm sure of it. But the last time we tried to explore the
Mandala, we-- I-- experienced a drain.]"
"That's right," Jane said. "I remember. That's why you were
stuffing your face."
Rebis ignored the comment. "[I need to explore the Mandala further.
To understand its significance, and why it was given to me. But... I'd
prefer to have some backup, there with me. In case something...
happens.]"
"Were you afraid to ask, before?" Jane tilted her head at a cock-
eyed angle.
"[Not afraid, per se... I simply didn't want to bother anyone. I
wanted to deal with it myself.]"
Cliff sighed. "Look, will you try to remember we're a team?" he
said. "We're here for each other. If you need to do something dangerous,
of *course* we'll help you. It's no *bother*. It's our job. Otherwise
what's the point to calling ourselves a team?"
"He's right," Jane said. "You and Cliff were there for *me*, after
the Fifth Horseman. Did you think we wouldn't do the same for you?"
"[Actually, I simply didn't think about it much. Sometimes I
forget...]"
"Forget what?" Cliff asked.
"[Let me get the Mandala. I'll set it up in one of the lounges near
the kitchen.]"
"In case you need food?" Jane asked.
"[Yes.]"

Rebis brought the Mandala into one of the common lounges, the one
next to
the kitchen. Jane and Cliff were already there waiting. "What exactly
are you going to do?" Cliff asked.
"[Psychometric penetration and decrypting the patterns hidden in
the quantum structure.]"
"Right. Forget I asked."
Rebis sat down in an armchair and propped the Mandala up in front
of hir, supported by apparent thin air. That had not been an ability
Larry had had, or Val, and Cliff found himself wondering how many powers
Rebis had that Larry hadn't.
"Tell us what you see as you go along," Jane suggested.
"[Yes. Good idea.]" Rebis reached out a hand and touched the
Mandala. "[A maze. I see a maze... compelling. Drawing at me. I want to
explore it... examine it.]"
"Be careful," Cliff warned.
"[Surface impression... nothing. Nothing there. Going deeper
in...]" Rebis leaned forward, both hands lightly contacting the surface
of the Mandala. "[Static. Resolving into voices... this is as far as we
got last time. Voices inside the maze.]"
Cliff got up and stood on one side of the chair, waiting to catch
Rebis if s/he collapsed or showed signs of drain. "I'm here."
"[Voices crying out... calling. Focusing deeper. The hunger...
I...]"
And the Mandala crashed to the floor. Rebis hirself didn't move--
still leaning forward in the armchair, both hands out.
"Jesus!" Cliff grabbed Rebis. "Larry, Larry, are you all right?
Speak to me! *Larry*!"
"Check the eyes!" Jane advised.
Cliff pulled off Rebis's shades. The eyes underneath were green,
and seemed oddly weak and vulnerable, caged about by bandages. They
didn't move. When Cliff moved his hand in front of Rebis's eyes, they
didn't track, shift or blink, or do anything but stare fixedly into
space. "God. Oh, God. Jane, get Josh and the Chief, now!"
"Right!" She turned and ran off.
Cliff rubbed the back of his hand on his pants until it shone, then
placed it in front of Rebis's mouth. The metal surface fogged, ever so
slightly. It occurred to Cliff that he hadn't known for sure until now
that Rebis even needed to breathe-- but since s/he was apparently
breathing, presumably s/he was still alive. Hes arms were slightly
stiff, but pliable, like a catatonic's. Cliff pushed the arms down to
Rebis's sides, and turned toward the door as Josh and Jane came running
in, the Chief wheeling in behind them.
"What's happened?" Josh asked.
"I think he's catatonic. He seems to be breathing. I couldn't check
for a pulse or anything."
"Right," Josh said. "Lay him out on the couch."
"It's 'hir'," Jane said. "Lay 'hir' out on the couch."
"What *exactly* happened?" Caulder asked. "Perhaps you could
clarify the situation for me, Jane?"
As Jane filled Caulder in on the events of the day, Josh and Cliff
laid Rebis out on the couch and stripped hir to the bandages. Josh slid
the flat of his stethoscope under the bandages, in the general region of
the heart, and moved it around, searching for the beat. "All right," he
finally said. "Heartbeat's normal, at least normal for Rebis." He turned
to the Chief. "Maybe an EEG--?"
"The radiation would interfere too strongly," Caulder said. "In
addition, since we don't know Rebis's baseline, I'm not sure what an EEG
could tell us that we don't already know." He turned to Jane. "I don't
suppose any of your selves would be able to help?"
"I'm already here," Jane, or somebody, said in a somewhat hollow
voice. "Hes mind is... gone. Into the Mandala. I cannot follow." Her
face crumpled. "I'm sorry..."
"Isn't there anything we can do?" Cliff asked. "I mean-- what if we
went in after him, or something?"
"No," Caulder said. "I've a better idea. Who would like to
accompany me on a trip to Gotham?"
"Gotham? You mean, where Batman hangs out?" Cliff was puzzled.
"Specifically to Arkham Asylum. There's a doctor there, a Sharon
Dilliard, who specializes in these sort of cases."
"In people who get lost inside wooden carvings?" Cliff asked
disbelievingly.
"No, no. In catatonic states. She herself has certain paranormal
abilities which enable her to deal with cases like this. In any case, I
think it would be best if I went in person to persuade her to come. Does
anyone want to come with me?"
"I do," Jane said. "I want to help."
"Ah hell. Why not." Cliff turned to Josh. "What about you?"
"I figure I'll stay here-- keep an eye on Rebis and the base.
Dorothy should probably stay too. No one's got any business taking a kid
to visit Arkham."
"I'd prefer not to shelter Dorothy unduly," Caulder said. "On the
other hand, Joshua, you should not be alone in the base if something
does happen. I'd rather she stayed behind, on the chance that something
might come up." The Chief turned his wheelchair toward the door. "I
leave matters in your hands and Dorothy's, Josh. If an emergency should
arise, and you two can't deal with it yourselves, I *am* bringing my
beeper. Cliff, Jane? Shall we go?"

--
My faith in America has been renewed by Judges Sloviter, Dalzell, and
Buckwalter. Sometimes sanity *does* prevail.

-- Alara Rogers, Aleph Press
al...@netcom.com

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