PATRICK PANICS

Patrick Mac was sleeping soundly in his bed, far below the grassy plains of Manhattan. As a Traveler, he was always on the look out for anything suspicious or out of the ordinary on Third Earth. Whenever Pendragon called upon him, he did his best to dig through history and give him the vital details they needed to unravel their latest challenge.

As a teacher and a librarian, he knew he wasn't the fighter that Pendragon, Loor and Alder had proved to be. Nonetheless, his role in the fight for Halla was an important one just the same, and he wasn't going to stop doing his duties as a Traveler, and helping Bobby in any ways he could.

As he rolled over in bed – his eyes still closed – he was completely oblivious to what now towered over him.

"Good morning, Patrick," a voice said, breaking the silence.

Instead of opening his eyes, Patrick simply dismissed the voice as being from a dream, and tried falling back to sleep.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled sleepily.

He figured the voice would vanish – since this was all a dream and only happening in his head – but just the opposite happened.

"You must get up," the same voice instructed, an oddly robotic-like voice. "Or you will be late for work."

This time, Patrick feared it wasn't a dream at all. His eyes snapped open in surprise, and slowly looking over his shoulder, there stood the last thing he could have expected to see, or wanted to see.

Standing beside him was a tall man with short black hair. His face was large, square-shaped, but most alarming of all were the dead doll-like eyes that stared down at him with absolutely no expression.

At first, Patrick didn't respond. It was like a weight of fear was pressing down on him, freezing him in place. He then blinked, realized the frightening truth…and panicked.

The first thing he did was scream.

The second thing he did was stumble out of bed, trip over his feet, and fall to the floor in a heap of sheets and blankets.

"W-what's going on?" the Traveler stammered, his mouth open in shock. Beside him was his orange tabby cat – Earnest – who was now growling under her breath at the unwelcome intruder. Her hairs were on end, and her tail swished back and forth suspiciously.

Patrick laid a hand on her back, trying to reassure her, but knowing both he and his cat were not fond of this man – whoever he claimed to be.

"I am your domestic dado," the man explained. "Why do you act surprised to see me?"

Patrick's mouth had gone dry. He stood there, feeling like his entire body would break out trembling. This couldn't be happening! When Press had first informed him of his true purpose as a Traveler, he felt his life had been turned upside down. It was now happening yet again!

"I-I don't want any Day…whatever you are. This is my apartment!"

"I have been your dado for five years," the dado told him. "I do not understand why you are behaving like this. is something the matter? Are you ill?"

"N-no!" Patrick shot back, swallowing hard. "That's…that's not possible! I was just here last night and…and everything was normal!"

"You are stressed," the dado answered, stating the obvious. "Would you like some breakfast? Some coffee, perhaps?"

"I-I want you to leave," said Patrick, the fear evident in his voice.

"I cannot leave," the dado replied. "I have been assigned to be your personal dado. It is my duty to ensure you are looked after, and clearly you require looking after."

Patrick shook his head in denial. "I…I can look after myself," he said, refusing to accept what was in front of him. Now more than ever he felt like he was still trapped in a horrible, inescapable nightmare. The question was, could he find his way out of it?

"T-this can't be real," he uttered, running his hands nervously through his long, brown hair. "No, it's…it's all a dream. Just a dream. Nothing more."

"I am your assigned dado, Patrick," the dado corrected. The expression on the robot's face didn't shift or change even in the slightest. "I am not a dream. Are you sure you are not hungry? Would you like some pancakes?"

Patrick didn't answer. He turned and bolted for the front door, wasting no time in rushing out and down the long hallway. The fear and worries swimming before him were so great, he wondered whether it all wouldn't grab hold of him and suffocate him. But he couldn't stop running. He had to see the outside world.

Please just be a dream, he thought, the fear rising inside him like wildfire. Please just let me wake up from this madness!

When he got into his small car, he took a moment to try and keep his emotions together. He just couldn't wrap his head around what all of this meant. The dado had told him he'd been his dado for five years, but that was impossible! He hadn't seen this mechanical man last night, the night before that, or even years ago. Something was definitely unfolding on Third Earth, and it was obvious that it wasn't for the better.

"Just…just calm down," he told himself, taking a deep breath. He knew there wasn't a chance of that happening, but he figured he ought to at least try and keep himself from going over the edge with insanity.

When he arrived up on the surface, he almost wondered if it would be easier if he didn't look. If the world truly had changed and these dados were now a normal part of everyday life, well, did he really want to see this?

No, but he was a Traveler. If things had changed, he needed to know. He needed to see.

What he didn't realize was how unprepared he was to see just how much his home had changed.

The concept of a single dado invading his apartment was enough to make his head spin. But as he stood there staring out at the rolling hills of green and groups of people walking about, his head started spinning yet again.

He shook his head and cried, "NO!"

His fears were confirmed. The mechanical men were everywhere. Wherever his eyes wandered – left, right, behind him, miles and miles beyond where he stood – there they were. They blended in with everyone else, as if they were just as human as anyone else, despite the fact that they were anything but.

Patrick felt the world closing in on him.

"No, no, no….no," he muttered, dangerously close to crying. "This…this isn't right!"

He then started walking, forcing his feet to move, though both felt like they now weighed a ton. All around him, people went about their lives like nothing was wrong. A family sat beneath a tall tree, sitting comfortably on a blanket while enjoying a picnic lunch. A few kids raced along the grassy plains, throwing a Frisbee, or kicking a soccer ball back and forth. An older couple strolled along, the sight of the many dados clearly not bothering them.

He stopped at a tall tree, leaning his back against it while still staring out at the never-ending display of dados.

"I'm going crazy," he whispered. He sank down to the ground, running his fingers through the soft grass, wishing he were back home in bed. "I'm going out of my mind. I'm...I'm going insane!"

When he'd been yanked out of sleep, had he looked in his bedroom mirror, it would have occurred to him how shaken he really was. His hair was a tangled mess, he hadn't shaved, and his eyes darted about wildly.

How long he sat under that tree, Patrick couldn't guess. He could have been there for five minutes, an hour, or a week. Time was starting to lose all meaning for him. His mind was now too fixed on the terrible truth that his home was no longer the same. Whether he liked it or not, it was changing.

"Excuse me," he heard a deep voice say. "Would you like some refreshments?"

The sudden voice startled him so much, he actually gasped in surprise.

When he finally returned to reality, he noticed a tall dado standing in front of him. It held a glass of ice-water, while staring down at him with those unblinking, doll-like eyes.

It was too much for Patrick. The truth was now at last sinking in for him. He'd been numb with shock up till then. But now the realization was dawning on him that Third Earth might never be the same again.

He feared he might also never be the same again, for he feared he was spiralling into a descent of craziness.

The poor guy just couldn't take it anymore.

Without any warning at all, he fainted.