The Legend of Ghost Swamp

Part 1 of a two-part special of The Book of Dreams Adventures series.

The Legend of Ghost Swamp is a two-part special featuring the characters from The Book of Dreams series. In this installment, diplomat Agent Kira Wood and Mister, the Z’Dhia to whom she is assigned to help in his work, time shift onto a school on the human settlement Beta-2, to recover a volume of The Book of Dreams. While there, they end up getting drawn into the legend of strange swamp creatures that attacked the school’s students and faculty. Is the Legend of Ghost Swamp real, or is something else going on? Kira and Mister find out in The Legend of Ghost Swamp.

Everyone at Windmere Academy heard about the Legend of Ghost Swamp. With its modernistic architecture, the school sat just outside of the swamp from which it got its name, in a region on Beta-2 that spread some thirty kilometers in the Windmere region outside of Riverton. In the seven years it had opened its doors, it had also become home to some of the wildest and most inventive stories. The legend went something like this: When the moon Titania II was full and cast its pale orange glow on the land below, the ghosts of Windmere arose and hunted poor souls who got lost in the murky depths of the swamp. Depending on who was telling the story, the ghosts took on varying shapes and descriptions. In most accounts, they were merely lights that floated and danced among the draping leaves and twisted, moss-covered stumps. But in the more frightening stories, they took the form of swamp creatures with glowing red eyes and matted green fur. Regardless, the legend was just a silly campfire story the older kids liked to tell the younger ones to scare them.

In truth, the ghost lights of Windmere Swamp were really bioluminescent, single-celled organisms that fed off decaying animal and plant matter. But, as the old saying went, never let the truth get in the way of a good story.

That was, until now.

Head administrator Mary Toomer turned from the large plate glass window in her office, observing the campus and the swamps beyond, and faced Kira and the Z'Dhia, who listened silently from the long, orange couch opposite her desk. She was an attractive, middle-aged woman with silver hair she wore in a bob around her round, dark face, and a quiet, gentle demeanor that belied the authoritative figure she had cut when she escorted Kira and the Z'Dhia down the school's near-empty halls to her office, occasionally calling out to teenaged students to get back to class. But there seemed to be a sadness about her as well, visible in her downturned mouth and resigned gaze. Stepping around her desk, hands clasped in front of her, she drew out a long sigh and shrugged.

"A few months back," she continued, "we had an incident that unfortunately frightened a lot of students and their parents."

"Is that why the school is so empty?" Kira asked. She shot a quick look at the Z'Dhia, who sat stiffly against the back of the couch, legs crossed, hands folded on knee, gaze distantly off into middle space. His impatience was thick and heavy, and hard to ignore. They came to Windmere Academy to recover a volume that had been in the school's possession for quite some time. He promised her it would be a simple transfer, since the school's administrator had already arranged to return it. But now, with their conversation veering toward the school's recent misfortunes, the topic of the recovery faded in view, and the Z'Dhia's patience grew thin all the more for it.

Kira glanced sideways at Toomer's assistant administrator, who stood near a shelf of holographic documents. He was a tall man with a shock of chestnut brown hair and a thin face with a perpetually bemused look on his features. The brown suit he wore was rumpled and too tight for his skinny frame. When he spoke, it was in a reedy, pitched voice. "The children believe the ridiculous stories." Sighing heavily, he rolled his eyes and added, "We try to teach them to think critically…"

"Barnabas," Mary said under her breath, then gave him a stern look. He quieted, then shifted the balance of his weight against the shelf and gazed askance. Mary fixed a small, nervous smile on her face, then addressed Kira. "One of our students decided to take a midnight stroll through the campus grounds, when he was assaulted by one of these…creatures. Course, we thought it was a practical joke, which wasn't unlikely. We have some spirited kids here at Windmere. But, when another student claimed they were also assaulted, well, that started a domino effect we've been dealing with ever since."

"The students contacted their parents and told them what was happening," said Mr. Barnabas, casting grave looks from Ms. Toomer to Kira. "And now the parents are removing their kids from the school. You can imagine what this is doing to our bottom line. Not that we have much of a future to bother with a bottom line."

"Barnabas," Mary said again with the roll of her eyes.

"Well, you know it's true, Mary. They open the school in this godforsaken place, telling parents it's 'an ideal place for learning.'" He pleaded with Kira again. "We were both promised fulfilling educational careers when the board of directors recruited us, told us we'd be prepping young men and women for futures in IPPA. We didn't find out until much later about its location, or that the board hadn't even secured an accreditation from the Economic and Trade Commission, so most of our graduates can't even be guaranteed a placement in the academy." He scoffed again, then rolled his eyes. "We're bleeding students. We're bleeding educators. We rely on AI instruction materials, which any student can access on their home media platforms. Even I have to take over some teaching duties––literature, history, drama class––"

"Barnabas," Mary said more firmly. "That is all beside the point."

"Yes, it is beside the point." The Z'Dhia spoke up for the first time. "I came here to recover the volume. Not to get bogged down in whatever problems you may be having."

Mister's voice was cool and flat, emotionless, and yet there was something cruel about its indifference, like a storm blowing down a shanty. Kira gave him a look, then sighing, went into diplomacy mode. "While I sympathize with your troubles, Ms. Toomer, the Z'Dhia is right. We came here to recover that volume."

"Yes, yes, of course," she said. "I just want you to know that we have the utmost respect for the Idris-Sarran people, and meant no harm in keeping the volume. It was given to one of the school's founders as a gift, and we received it for safekeeping. It was always our intention to return it to you."

Briefly, the head administrator and her assistant exchanged furtive glances, then quickly looked away. Kira frowned, puzzled.

She de-escalated the strange tension that had built up in the room by assuring Ms. Toomer it was not her fault. "After all," she added with a little shrug, "I was the one who brought it up." Placated by Kira's continued diplomacy, the principal drew in a deep breath and nodded, but still, that look. "So if you could lead us to the volume."

"By all means," said Toomer, gesturing with her arm toward the door.

Mister stood and clasped his hands behind his back. Mr. Barnabas made to join them, until Toomer flashed him a look. His cheeks reddened, before he narrowed his eyes and scowled. Kira sensed a lot of history, animosity, and disagreement between the two. She wondered if it had anything to do with the volume or the problems the school had been having of late.

The bell to the office door rang, and then the doors parted. A young man of about seventeen, dressed in a dark blue uniform, stood before the threshold. He had a nervous, flustered air about him as his dark-eyed gaze scanned the room full of adults before they landed on Mr. Barnabas. He flexed his fingers at his sides, unintentionally directing Kira's gaze to his feet. Mud stained his canvas shoes. A strange incongruence considering how neat and tailored his appearance was. When she raised her eyes, Kira noticed that the Z'Dhia had noticed them too, and slowly cocked an eyebrow.

"Simmons," Ms. Toomer said flatly. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

"Yes, M'am, I came here to see Mr. Barnabas. I mean, about the play. Can we talk for a minute, sir?"

He grumbled, then sighed. "It's not like I had anything else to do. We can talk in my office, Simmons."

He quickly swept the boy out of the office, the doors sliding shut behind them.

"Well," Kira said after a few moments, "he sounds like a peach."

"You'll have to forgive Mr. Barnabas," Ms. Toomer said with a sigh. "It's been frustrating for everybody."

"Ms. Toomer," interjected the Z'Dhia. "The volume." Again, there was no anger or malice in his voice, but the weight of his impatience was notable.

"Yes, of course, if you'll come with me." She gestured with her arm and led the way.

They were walking down the empty halls, their footsteps resounding heavily in the air, when Kira brought up the school's board of directors and how they were handling the situation. The resigned look returned to the principal's eyes. Apparently, they were doing very little, she replied.

"The board of directors were all young and very idealistic when they founded Windmere. They have these grand notions about creating a generation of problem solvers who'd go one to become leaders in the alliance, ones who'd single out problems and address them instead of papering them over with more arcane rules. Our entire curriculum is based on problem solving. Heavy in math and science. Sociology and history with an emphasis on unwinding how historical events occurred, actions taken or possibly averted. Really training these kids how to think critically about cause and effect, policy and application."

"That sounds amazing," Kira said, reflecting on all the times she attempted to problem solve the situations she and the Z'Dhia had come across during their missions together, and how utterly helpless she felt in addressing quandaries that seemed so entrenched there was no hope in ever changing them. "We could use more forward thinking like that in the alliance."

"I agree," said Toomer. "That's what drew me to this school in the first place. Unfortunately, the young board of directors were naive and inexperienced when it came to managing a school. They made so many rookie mistakes." 

Mister, who had been strolling silently beside the two women with his hands clasped behind his back, made a chuffing sound. Kira shot him a look.

"Sounds like they're very passionate about their mission," she said. "Which puzzles me, because, according to Mr. Barnabas, it sounds like they're ready to throw in the towel."

"Oh, they're still committed," she said excitedly. "At least, from what they've told me. Unfortunately, the commission appointed a directorate to fix the problems." She sighed heavily. "Their options were either to remodel the school or defund it. At this point," she said churlishly as they approached a dimly lit door, "it can go either way, and right now I'm beyond giving a damn."

She removed a key card from her uniform jacket, swiped it into the security panel, then fed a pass code into the keypad. The door slid open, and they all entered. The door opened onto an iron stairwell that led down several flights. The vault was in a secure place in a sectioned off part of the basement, which was located in the shallow waters of the swamp bed. The concrete walls were thick and damp. Kira hugged her arms against the chill and shivered.

"It gets cold down here," the principal explained. "But the vault is temp-controlled." She looked at the Z'Dhia. "It's a much warmer and secure environment."

"You've gone through a great deal of work to protect the volume," Mister said.

"Well, yeah," she said. "There's a lot of people who'd love to get their hands on it."

Mister turned to Kira.––I imagine so.

She gave him a funny look. What was he implying, she thought.

They reached the bottom of the stairwell where another dimly lit door was located. Toomer fed another security code into the panel, and the door slid open. The vault was a little room reinforced with steel and light tubings along its ceiling. At the other end was a large plexiglass display case on top of a boxed security panel. The volume lay on the bottom of the case inside. Sweeping past the two women, Mister went to it and attempted to remove the glass.

Mary shouted, "Don't! You'll set off the alarm!"

She explained to the startled Z'Dhia that a warning signal rang through a private system in the security department, both on and off-campus. The system also shut the entire school into defense mode.

Kira frowned. "That's pretty extreme."

"The directorate insisted on it," she said as she squeezed her way to the display case. Then more distressingly: "They care more about this book than the children's safety." She nodded to the Z'Dhia to step aside, then started to feed a pass code into the security panel. The light on the security panel flashed green and a countdown appeared on a small LED screen beside it. The Z'Dhia frowned, then inquired about the countdown. "That's for the alarm."

"You mean there's a countdown for when the alarm turns off?" Kira said.

The principal shrugged again. "The directorate."

Kira flashed a look at Mister, whose impatience and frustration was written clearly on his face. His silver eyes narrowed and his lips pursed tightly. "Well, you have to admit," she said to him, hoping to diplomatically stem the rising tide of his anger, "they went the nine yards to protect it." His features softened as the thought sank in. Of all the missions they had gone on to recover the volumes of The Book of Dreams, they'd never come across one in which the volume was this well-protected.

"I'm assuming from the clock on the screen," he said in an even-measured tone, "that it will take five of your hours before the alarm system is shut down." He looked at Kira. "Whatever shall we do in the meantime?" She smiled. The levity in his voice was a welcome change.

"Supper will be served in an hour," said the principal. "You're more than welcome to join us." A sad look appeared in her eyes. "The kids will be thrilled. They've been learning a lot about Idris-Sarran culture, your ability to problem solve without conflict."

"We'd be more than honored," Kira said, then glanced at the Z'Dhia, who, for the first time since they'd arrived, looked as if he didn't mind being there.

Once they returned to the administrative offices, Mary Toomer directed one of the young students who worked there to give Kira and the Z'Dhia a tour of the school grounds before supper. The young woman, who looked about sixteen or seventeen, came around the registration desk and introduced herself. Her name, Joy, suited her––very bubbly and outgoing. She was tall and heavy-set, with thick braids that fell down her shoulders and a bright-eyed, dimple-cheeked face that seemed to shine from her dark brown skin. "I'd be more than happy to give them a tour, Ms. Toomer," she said. "Windmere Academy is one of the finest schools in this region." Kira attempted to suppress a laugh. The young girl reminded her so much of herself when she was that age.

"I'm so glad you came," she said as she guided them out of the administrative office, looking specifically at the Z'Dhia. "We don't get a lot of visitors, you know." A sad look flashed in her eyes before another smile swept it away. "Not visitors like you. Oh, we've studied your culture in my alliance history class. Your ideas about conflict resolution are soooo interesting."

Mister bowed his head. Though his expression remained vacant, Kira could tell that the young girl had impressed him.

The tour was quick and fairly unremarkable. The campus was made up of four three-story buildings, round in structure with sloping roofs that were lined with solar panels, providing the school with much of their energy, and a parking lot. The base of the campus laid on top of thick concrete poured into the murky river that fed out of the swamp's tributary systems in the region. Joy assured both Kira and the Z'Dhia that the entire structure was designed to flow and contribute to the growth and wellbeing of the environment, though Kira couldn't see how that was possible if concrete was one of their building materials. Joy showed them the large dining hall, the theater and entertainment center, the library, and study rooms. As they passed through the halls, Kira noticed, just as she had when the principal escorted them to her office, the embedded viewer screens displaying playbills for the recent production of MacBeth in the school's drama department. Given the school's mission statement, Kira thought it odd that there seemed to be so much emphasis on the arts, which was considered a specialized pedagogy within the Beta school systems. She made a mental note to bring it up with Toomer.

Joy noticed Kira examining one of the playbills and piped that their production was one of the most popular. "The special effects are awesome. The whole cast is awesome."

"Is it still in production?" Kira asked.

She shrugged. "Yeah, sort of, but there've been changes to the cast, you know." A strange expression flashed across her face, and Kira thought it best not to pursue the topic any further.

When they returned to the main building and entered its large, carpeted lobby, Kira nodded toward the sliding doors that led out onto a back courtyard and asked if they might go out there.

Joy's bubbly expression suddenly flattened, her smile fading, her sparkle dimming. "Well, I…" she stammered.

"If it's any problem," she began, but the young girl relented.

"No, it's okay. We're allowed."

Joy led them through the sliding glass doors, while Kira and the Z'Dhia exchanged strange looks.

The courtyard outside the main building was large, but sparsely designed. There were a few benches, some night lamps, and a sculpture made of twisting vines that sat on a cement base in the center of the yard. The air smelled fetid, like rotted eggs. It was easy to see the source. Beyond the courtyard was the swamp, its tall trees twisting like the vine sculpture, their leaves, which resembled seaweed, dangling into the dark waters below. The swamps surrounded the school and stretched kilometers outward in every direction. The setting sun threw off tendrils of light that turned the clouds drifting along the horizon into a radiant burnt orange, which then reflected brightly off the brackish waters flowing past the school. The chirruping of insects and a few bizarre hoots cast an eeriness that was both resoundingly beautiful and eerie at the same time. Kira could see how the swamps fed into wild imaginations.

But the smell!

"Ugh," she said, fanning her hand in front of her face.

Joy smiled nervously. "You get used to it."

"I can't see why anybody would." She recalled what Barnabas said about the school's location.

Joy's smile faded as she gazed from Kira to the Z'Dhia. Kira sensed her fear and asked if being here made her uncomfortable. She shrugged.

"I don't really come out to this part of the campus much anymore. Not since…you know."

"They happened here, the assaults?"

She nodded, then drew in a deep breath. "I was here when it happened."

Surprised by her revelation, Kira cautiously urged the skittish girl to offer more details. Joy drew in a deep breath, then launched into her story. It was near midnight, and she and a boy she had a crush on met alone in the courtyard. They were strolling along the deck when weird noises came out of the swamp. She wanted to go back inside, but he investigated what was causing the noise instead. They reached the end of the deck, near where the steps went down into the swampy muck, when they saw the creatures several yards away. They were at least ten feet tall, all covered in matted green fur that fringed their entire bodies, even their faces, except their eyes.

Joy clapped her hands to her face and drew out a long groan. "I'll never forget those eyes." They were a bright orange and flashed like fire.

She and the boy ran back to the campus and told everyone what they saw, but no one believed them. Then a few other students and a teacher reported seeing the same things, and "all hell broke loose," she said with a soured expression. Parents, incensed that the administrators weren't doing enough to protect their traumatized kids from whatever was scaring them, yanked them out of school, while teachers quit their posts. Everyday, Joy remarked sorrowfully, her classes get smaller and smaller. "Now we don't even have enough teachers," she added. When Kira asked why Joy's parents hadn't taken her out of school, the young girl flashed a sad smile and replied, "Well, they travel a lot because of work, so…" then let her voice trail off. Kira smiled sympathetically.

Mister, who had been silent throughout the entire tour, remarked, "I don't doubt you saw something, but I am certain there is a plausible explanation for it."

Both Kira and Joy frowned. "What do you think it was?" Kira asked.

"It could have been a trick of the imagination. Shadows, swamp lights––"

"Mister, I know what swamp lights look like. I saw what I saw. And I wasn't the only one. My friend…he was there. He saw them first."

"Is your friend still at the school?" Kira asked.

She nodded. "He was just in the administrative offices before you left with Ms. Toomer. He was talking to Mr. Barnabas."

"Simmons?" Kira said, creasing her brow. "You're dating Simmons?"

"No, I mean, well, maybe." An embarrassed tone entered her voice.

"So he was with you when you saw those things," Kira said, carefully steering her away from her embarrassment.

She nodded. "And he's been shook ever since. If you knew Bobby before…you'd know what I'm talking about. He was always so enthusiastic, about the school, about acting––he wants to be an actor, you know. He was even in MacBeth."

"I'm assuming he's not anymore."

"Yeah, he dropped out. He couldn't take it anymore. I don't blame him."

"I can imagine." Kira recalled how skittish the boy appeared when he asked for Barnabas. The image of his freshly muddied shoes also flashed in her mind. "This has been hard on all of you, hasn't it?"

"Nobody cares." She flashed a hard look at the Z'Dhia.

Mister raised an eyebrow. "Am I being accused of something?"

"You don't believe us." She pouted.

"On the contrary," he said, his tone measured, "I trust your veracity. But as I said before, there are more reasonable explanations for what you saw."

  "So then you just don't believe in monsters."

A little smirk came on his lips. "On the contrary again––I have seen many monsters. Some may even say that I am a monster. But each and every one of us is explicable. The universe contains all and is all."

––Mister, not now. She shot him a look, then glanced sympathetically at Joy.

The girl however brightened. "Does that mean you're gonna help?"

Kira frowned. "Is that why you think we're here? To help you?"

"Well," she said, pausing to look between Kira and the Z'Dhia, "ain't it?" Kira stammered for a response, then glanced at an expressionless n'dhia. "If we don't do something," Joy said, "they're gonna shut the school down."

Kira's eyebrows shot up. "Who told you that?"

Joy looked hesitant at first, but after some gentle coaxing she revealed what she knew. She had overheard a few conversations between Ms. Toomer and Mr. Barnabas about the directorates. Some of them recommended filing a claim with the Economic and Trade Commission to classify the school as a failure due to natural causes. She shrugged. "They said it was like an insurance claim or something, you know, like an indemnity?" Her voice fluted upward as her gaze darted between them again. "Monsters are natural causes, right?"

––Interesting, Kira said psionically.––Ms. Toomer never mentioned that bit to us.

Mister narrowed his eyes and scrutinized the young girl.

In the distance, screams echoed against the twilight gloom. Startled, they all turned toward the swamps as two children, a boy and a girl, splashed through the muck and ran up the steps to the courtyard. Their school uniforms were muddy and disheveled, and their faces reddened and streaked with tears. Joy gasped and started toward them. Kira and the Z'Dhia joined her.

The children, who were at least ten or eleven, clung to Joy and sobbed insensibly. After a few minutes, she calmed them down long enough to learn what happened. Apparently, the children went into the swamps to get photographic evidence of the monsters, but while they were searching through the trail, they heard noises, and a groan. "The monsters," the girl cried, her eyes bulging. "They're coming after us."

"Oh, God," Joy said, her own eyes peeling wide in fright as she gazed toward the swamps. "Come on," she urged, then guided the two sobbing kids back to the administrative building.

Kira and the Z'Dhia stared off into the swamps. While the sun descended behind the horizon, casting its last rays of light against the darkening sky, the air turned quiet and still. Even the distant chirruping of insects fell silent. Only the lapping of the river against its banks resounded eerily. Kira turned to the Z'Dhia and wondered aloud if all the legends might be true.

"I mean," she said under her breath, warily eyeing the swamps, "it's not like we have a complete classification for all the animals native to this region."

Mister raised an eyebrow. "Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?" He started toward the swamps. Kira followed him and asked what he intended to do. "If there are monsters, then there should be evidence of that."

She watched him descend the steps and carefully make his way through the thick muck along the riverbank toward the knot of trees up ahead. A part of her was reluctant to follow him. Not so much out of fear, but a concern over the distraction. She laughed inwardly, thinking that only earlier it was the Z'Dhia who was impatient to get on with the business of recovering the volume, and not get distracted by the school's internal politics. Now Mister was eager to get to the bottom of this monster business, though she suspected it was his scientific curiosity getting the better of him.

She drew in a deep breath and hurried down the steps. Regret set in as soon as her boots sunk in the muck and made squelching noises. Grimacing in disgust, she soldiered on, then took out her communicator and turned on its flash. She shined its light on the dark, knotted trees ahead. The Z'Dhia was a few meters beyond scanning the area with The Key.

The shade grew darker once she entered the swamp. Shadows danced by the flickering of her light. She could see how the legend of the ghost swamp gained such traction. There was something unsettling and disquieting about the swamps. The silence, the claustrophobic closeness of the trees, which rose up out of the watery muck in roots and twisted, dangling branches that, in the darkness, could easily be mistaken for arms, legs, torsos. The tree bark also had a fleshy quality to it, as though formed out of melted…skin.

Kira shuddered, then hurried through the narrow path between the jutting tree roots and bramble. As she approached the Z'Dhia, she heard a loud squelch.

It echoed through the air, sending a chill up her spine.

Mister's back faced her. As she hurried toward him, feet sinking further into the muck, she heard the squelch again, and froze. It sounded like heavy footsteps. In the mud. She flashed the light in both directions, searching…for what? A sound? A monster?

The Z'Dhia turned toward her, his silver eyes glittering like ice in the light of her communicator's flash, chilling her soul even further. There was something strangely possessed about his expression, as if he was not entirely himself. As if he wasn't himself at all. The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention, and her heart raced so quickly she feared it might burst.

"Mister," she said tremulously. "What was––?"

He directed his silver-hued gaze to his feet. Kira pointed the communicator at them and noticed that his muddied shoe was pressing down a thick root, causing it to squelch in the mud.

"Jesus Christ, Mister," she exhaled. "You scared the hell out of me."

An eyebrow shot up. "It provides a logical explanation for what happened to the children, doesn't it? One of them likely stepped on this root and caused the sound that frightened them."

"How can you be so sure?" she heaved, her heart still racing, her thoughts scrambling over how easily sounds and shadows could put the fright in her.

"When I scanned the area, I collected readings that concluded only human DNA residue were present, along with a few other organisms that I've ruled out as our possible monster."

"I guess that solves the mystery." Somewhere in the distance, a strange, high-pitched hooting flew up against the darkness and commenced for several seconds, before falling silent. Stillness gripped the air like a fist. Kira shuddered. "Let's get the hell out of here. This place is spooking me."

As she turned around, Kira swung her flash light on something that caught her eye among the nearby branches. A tiny gasp escaped her throat. Thick locks of fur swung from the spiraling branches in the breeze. They appeared to be green and caked with mud.

"Okay, Mister," she said, stupefied. "Explain this."

The Key's steady ticking filled the air, then silence fell as the Z'Dhia studied the results. She waited for a response. He lifted his eyes with a curious expression, then muttered, "It's synthetic."

Kira frowned again and stared at the fur rippling in the breeze. Night fell, and the swamp teemed with the bioluminescent organisms that fed off the dead.

To be continued…