9. Like and Dislike

NiGHTS flew away from the stupid park as fast as 'he' could. Dokan were apparently as narrow-minded as humans that way, shoving everything into one category or the other; and since the designated dreamer was male, NiGHTS got shoehorned into the same box. Box? Boot, maybe. Or would that be 'boothorned'? Either way NiGHTS had far better things to do than help a silly fox who'd been stupid enough to throw the Dreamcaster - the Dreamcaster! - into the ocean. Elliot would have been smarter than that, and Will, and Claris, and Helen, and– no, those are all from the straight-human waking world. Hmm, never helped a dokan before, but Joe was from this world, and Yukito, and Martinique, and Elise, and they'd all have known better. Wizeman had never showed any interest in dokan before; why was he now?

Still fuming, NiGHTS shifted from flying straight 'away' to a more upwards direction. One of the funny things about the waking world was the fact that the higher you went the colder it got, even though you were getting closer to the sun. One of NiGHTS' previous dreamers, had tried to explain it, a girl who had lived in an artificial world above the real one, where it was so cold a human could die by going outside. Sure enough, as the renegade Nightmaren climbed higher and higher, the air around got colder. And thinner. NiGHTS didn't need to breathe, but neither voice nor invisible flute worked without air to ripple through. NiGHTS dropped lower, to where people on the ground were easily visible, and put the flute to his lips. The sweet trills, beloved of the Nightopians, soothed him further. Vaguely, NiGHTS wondered where the Nightopians were - back in Nightopia, or somewhere in the waking world? - but answered himself with a mental shrug as he settled onto a convenient log. He might go looking them later, if he felt like it, but for now there was a world to explore, before the Nightmarens trashed it. Remembering that, NiGHTS opened his eyes to look around.

And blinked, because there was a blue dokan hedgehog not ten feet away, watching him. "You're pretty good. I've never seen anyone actually play an invisible instrument before, just pretend to."

NiGHTS lowered the flute, and it vanished from his fingers like the dream it was. "Thank you." Blue eyes looked the new arrival up and down. Gaudy blue fur, bare arms and stomach, wearing only white gloves and red and white sneakers. "I'm NiGHTS. Who are you?"

"I'm Sonic. Sonic the Hedgehog!" The hedgehog made a sweeping bow, exuding confidence that everyone on the planet would recognize his name. "I've seen you in the casino game, and the downtown hotel, but I didn't know you were real."

The dream jester frowned, having no idea what the dokan was talking about. Only the last part of the sentence made sense. "I'm not real, I'm a dream," he pointed out.

"A dream?" Sonic quirked an eyebrow. "Nah, I've seen dreams before; they have long eyelashes and – ," he whistled, waving his hands to indicate a vaguely hourglass shape.

"Not that sort of dream," retorted NiGHTS crossly. Actually, he wasn't at all certain what an hourglass had to do with anything. Maybe it was supposed to be a ladder of some sort. But the whistle he recognized from some of the older boys he'd had to deal with, who'd greeted anything faintly female with the same sound. Which could be quite amusing when they whistled at Lady Fingers, one of the second-level Nightmarens. When she turned to 'greet' them, her razor-sharp, foot-long fingernails tended to mend their manners rather quickly. NiGHTS eyed the hedgehog, isolated his terror-point, and added, "This sort!" Before the hedgehog could react, the dream jester turned into a multicolored wave of water and crashed down around him.

Sonic shrieked, choked as his brain told him he was underwater, and flailed desperately in an attempt to swim clear – and realized he was sprawled on dry ground with a pink-white-purple puddle watching him like a blue-eyed amoeba. Point made, NiGHTS returned to his proper form –and had to leap rapidly into the air as the hedgehog curled into a ball of needle-sharp quills and spun through the air toward him. More out of curiosity than because he expected it to work, NiGHTS paralooped the hedgehog, drawing a ring of dream dust around him. But Sonic managed to evade or duck out of loop after loop, until the dream jester gave it up. Catching that ball of spines was out of the question, so NiGHTS tried one of Reala's tricks. Waiting for Sonic to land on his feet and uncurl, NiGHTS dropped to land in front of him. "You're very fast, aren't you?"

"That's why they call me Sonic," replied the hedgehog, watching the jester through narrowed green eyes. Hovering just above the ground, NiGHTS lowered the toe of one boot fractionally, just enough to touch the soil below the ankle-deep grasses. Staying low enough to keep contact - and keep both feet hidden in the grass - he began to drift sideways, as if trying to edge behind the hedgehog. As expected, Sonic turned with him, watching the jester's face.

"If you're so fast, why are you afraid of water? I'd imagine you could just run across the top of it." Keep up the conversation, keep him distracted, and keep edging around. It doesn't matter if he thinks it's a trick, because it's not the one he'll be expecting.

"I can. I can run fast enough that I'm never in one spot long enough to break the surface tension." Involuntary pride made Sonic puff up a bit, pleased by his own talents. "But if I stop or have to slow down for some reason, I sink. Dokan don't float."

"Really?" NiGHTS filed that away and drifted another centimeter. Two. "But Tails isn't afraid of water." One of the inherent talents of the first-level Nightmarens was knowing what dreamers were afraid of; otherwise Reala couldn't assign the correct second- and third-levels to prey upon those fears.

"You know Tails?" That did surprise the hedgehog. Which surprised NiGHTS, because - since much of what he knew of the world came from the minds of his dreamers - he had thought the fox cub rather a non-entity. Tails didn't think he was talented or important, so why would someone as supposedly famous and self-important as this Sonic know about him? And NiGHTS was further surprised when the next reaction was, "You haven't attacked him too, have you?" and the blue hedgehog squaring up to resume his attack.

"No, no," NiGHTS waved a reassuring hand, which kept Sonic focused on him. He'd completed half the circle now, and behind the hedgehog he could just see the faint purple glow as his paraloop began to draw power. He continued his slow drift. "I'm supposed to help him fend off the Nightmarens. But he's got a friend helping him already, and she threatened me with a hammer. I'm not sure he needs my protection."

Sonic laughed, and relaxed slightly. "So, you met Amy then. Good, if she's helping him, that should keep her out of my way.

"And as long as she stays out of your way, everything's fine?" returned NiGHTS tartly. The hedgehog's attitude was getting on his nerves. Vain and arrogant! NiGHTS couldn't stand people like that; they reminded him of Reala.

"No! –Well, yes, I'd rather her not be chasing after me, but she's very good with that hammer, and quite capable of defending Tails if he needs it. But don't you dare tell her I said that."

"I won't," promised NiGHTS, and completed his circle. The faint purple light grew much stronger and shot upward, surrounding the startled Sonic with a violet cylinder. Then the ground within the cylinder collapsed into darkness, taking the hedgehog with it. The cylinder then contracted rapidly and vanished, leaving only untouched grass where the dokan had been standing. With a grin, NiGHTS leaped up onto a nearby boulder, and began to play his flute again.

Sonic picked himself up with a grunt. And yelped as his head collided with something. By the sound, it - whatever 'it' was - was metal. Reaching up, he groped in the darkness above his head and found what felt like a - yes, metal - pipe. "Ow," he groused, as he stood up again more carefully. "Stupid know-it-all jester."

Suddenly a light was glaring into his eyes from above. "Hey! Ow," he said again, trying to shield his eyes and see past the beam of light. Someone was pointing a flashlight at him, but he couldn't make out who it was.

"Sonic?"

He closed his eyes and groaned mentally. Of all the people to find him here! Wherever here was. "Shadow? Is that you?"

"Yes. Watch your eyes, I'm turning on the light." Lights clicked on overhead, and Sonic squinted around. He was in a windowless room full of shelves and fenced-off areas full of stuff, with a flight of wooden steps leading up at one end. The black and red Ultimate Life-form stood on the landing regarding him with puzzlement. "What are you doing in the basement in the dark?"

Sonic thought of a half-dozen snap replies to a straight line like that, but settled for the truth. He'd probably end up having to explain any quip to Shadow anyway, which would spoil the humor. "I don't know. I ran into a strange character, who somehow sent me here. One minute I'm in a sunlit meadow, the next I'm in the dark. How did you know I was down here, anyway? Surely you didn't hear me hit my head on that pipe!"

The darker hedgehog frowned. "I felt an odd sort of surge, like someone using Chaos control, only different. Since I couldn't figure out why anyone would be creating surges of a strange power down here, I thought I'd better check it out." He regarded Sonic solemnly, as if he wasn't certain what to do next.

Sonic asked, "Have you ever been in Casinopolis?" He walked across the room and up the stairs to join Shadow, who led the way to the elevator.

"No. Rouge said if I went in I'd lose my socks, and I don't have very many."

Sonic snorted, then gave the other hedgehog a somewhat doubtful look. "Shadow, you do know she's having you on, don't you?" Maybe Shadow did think the bat was serious.

Shadow looked Sonic dead in the eye and flashed a grin that was gone as quickly as it had appeared. "I'd wondered." Sonic grinned back in spite of himself; Shadow smiling was so rare as to be unheard of. The red-striped quills waved as Shadow shook his head. "I know - in theory, at least - what casinos are and do, but I've never been in one. I'm not certain I want to risk my money that way, considering that I only have what the government feels like paying me."

"I thought you'd taken a job with GUN?" interjected Sonic.

"I took an assignment from them, but I haven't - turn left here - I haven't decided to make it permanent." Shadow unlocked a door and the two dokan entered his apartment. Sonic looked around. The furniture was simple, sparse, and almost entirely impersonal, except for a framed photograph of Shadow, Maria, and Professor Gerald, and a second, larger portrait of the girl by herself. A potted plant had several gold rings dropped over it with the stem of the plant rising through the middle of them. In a corner a hoverboard leaned against the wall next to one of the Black Arms' floating disks. Shadow ducked into the kitchen and returned with two glasses of Chaos cola. "Is there something going on at Casinopolis you think I should know about, or do you want to know if GUN knows anything?"

"Neither. There's a game there, NiGHTS into Dreams, that I'm rather fond of, and today I ran into a person dressed just like the main character who can fly, play an invisible flute, and claims to be a dream himself. He's not dokan, and I don't think he's human either–"

"Alien?" asked Shadow sharply, clearly thinking of the Black Arms invasion.

"No. Well, he could be, but he's no relation to Black Doom, for certain. Anyway, he did something that opened up a hole in the ground and dropped me into your basement. Which is a pretty good trick, as I was about fifteen miles outside the city limits. He's not much like I imagined the character, though, so arrogant and self-centered!" Shadow raised his glass quickly, but Sonic got the impression the dark hedgehog was smiling again. He scowled. "I mean it! He demanded to know what I was doing in a public place, tried to drown me, and then teleported me away for no reason. That's practically kidnapping! He also knew something about Tails." Sonic frowned as he remembered that. What did NiGHTS want with his little brother?

Shadow's not-quite-hidden amusement vanished at once, which mollified the blue dokan somewhat. "He's after Tails? Do you know why?"

"He said he was supposed to be helping him, but – well, apparently Amy had already gone to the rescue and driven this guy off. Good for her, I'd say. Funny him turning up and claiming to be a dream, though, so soon after all that dream wizard stuff."

Shadow asked about the 'dream wizard stuff' and Sonic cheerfully launched into the grand tale of his recent exploits. "Are you certain it was a wizard involved, and not this jester person?" the dark hedgehog asked, when he finished.

"Oh, sure," answered Sonic breezily, "because they called him something - oh yes, the dream caster. So he must have been a wizard; jesters don't cast spells."

"True," said Shadow thoughtfully, although Sonic got the impression the other hedgehog didn't agree with him. It was so obvious! But then, Shadow hadn't been there, and he still didn't have a lot of experience with real life. A phone rang, and Shadow reached over to retrieve the compact cell phone from an end table. "Hello? Oh, hi Rouge. Really? No, I haven't seen anything like that. Hang on a moment." Shadow looked over at Sonic. "Rouge says that Amy came to see her and she - Amy, that is - and Tails are looking for a special power-bearing stone called a 'Dreamcaster'. Shaped like a jester's cap?" Sonic groaned and sank down in his seat, covering his eyes with one hand. Shadow smirked and returned to his phone call. "No, I'll go look there; Sonic's here now. –Yes, I do know a few other people besides you." He rolled his eyes. "Goodbye." He clicked the phone shut and looked at Sonic. "Want to show me where you tossed the stone into the ocean?"

Jet the Hawk slumped in his chair in his quarters on the Babylon Rogue's airship. Heels resting on the corner of his desk, he rocked his chair slightly on two legs in time with the engines' soft purr, while the massive propellers spun slowly, barely pushing the ship forward through the darkness. Hmmph. Wave's still fussing about that propeller the cops shot - as if she hadn't been able to fix it within the hour! No cop is going to stop us, we're the Babylon Rogues! Chirring softly with annoyance, Jet turned the transparent cube in his hands. The clear, colorless faces were so heavily carved that it was difficult to see through it, but if he looked hard he could see the fabric of his gloves, slightly magnified by the crystalline material. The corners of his beak quirked back up; he was Jet the Hawk, skilled leader of the Babylon Rogues, and the acknowledged Air Master. Even Wave admitted the last - he just hoped she'd realize the first and stop nagging him so much!

He looked out the window sharply, but saw nothing. Admittedly, hawk's eyes were not as efficient in darkness as they were in light, but he was getting very tired of waiting. If that human doesn't get here soon, I'll tell Wave to rev up the engines and take us back to the desert proper. Neither Wave nor Storm knew why he had insisted on loitering near the mountains that bordered the desert. Storm was too stupid to ask, but Wave had nagged and scolded until Jet wouldn't have told her anyway, just on general principles. She thinks it's dangerous, waiting here. But what's danger compared to the real prize - recovering our ancient home! Neither my father nor my grandfather could find any trace of it, only this cube handed down through the generations, and they didn't know how to make it work! Jet didn't know either, yet, but he would soon. Very soon, if this human 'doctor' was telling the truth.

A sudden pounding on the floor outside startled him, and the door was flung open. "Hey, boss!" Storm's massive, yellow-gloved fists crashed down on the desk hard enough to unbalance Jet, and the crystal cube fell onto the blotter as the hawk crashed to the floor, chair and all. "We've got MAJOR trouble!" the albatross bellowed over Jet's startled squawk.

"Storm! At least learn to knock before you enter a room!" That was Wave, sniping at the grey dokan already as she strode into the room.

Storm shrugged, looking around for Jet. His gaze fell on the small, transparent box and he picked it up. "What's this? Oh, is this . . ?"

Jet stood up, flicking his crest feathers back into place. "Yeah. That's when I took things over for my father." The statement might have seemed a bit of a non sequitur to an outsider, but Jet knew exactly what Storm was going to say and had heard it too many times. Nor was he interested in going into the whole tale again, of Typhoon's murder by mutineers who wanted to claim the control box for themselves. By the time the fighting was over, many adult Rogues were dead, and Lady Marahuté had decreed Jet the new leader, as was his birthright. Unfortunately, few of the remaining adult thieves were interested in following an untested teenager, and so the 'Babylon Rogues' currently had an active membership of three. That would change, though, once Jet showed them that he knew how to lead as well as he could ride the winds.

"So this is the key to the fabled Babylon Garden?" Jet recognized the glint in Wave's eye, but at least with Storm holding the box she'd have no chance to carry it off.

"I wonder . . . ." mused the grey albatross, apparently oblivious to the swallow's comment. But then, it always seemed to take longer for sound to travel from Storm's ears to his brain than with most people. "Could it be true? Could our ancestors have left behind hidden treasure that's just waiting to be discovered?" Jet nodded his head; it was one of the basic beliefs he'd been raised with, as fundamental as the existence of the lost 'homeland' itself. Babylon Garden existed, therefore the treasure hidden therein existed as well.

"Hmmm," said Wave as she reached for the box. Storm snatched it out of her reach.

"Uhn-uh! If you get your greasy little hands on this, you'll probably use it in some crazy experiment of yours!" Bad move, Storm, thought Jet as he righted his chair. Wave hates being called greasy, even if she is a mechanic.

But for once the swallow let the insult pass. "Oh come on; I only want to look at it!"

"You always say you only want this or that," countered Storm, still holding the cube out of her reach. Jet flopped into his chair and glowered at both of them, but neither noticed. The albatross continued, "Remember the teachings of our ancestors: 'Be careful what you ask for, ultimately you'll only get three true wishes.'"

The green-feathered hawk had had enough. "Oh be quiet!" he snapped, rousing his feathers in irritation. Why'd you burst in here, anyway?"

To his gratification, the other two actually stopped arguing. Storm scowled with concentration and began, "Well uh, an egg head? Egg, salad? No . . . ."

Wave nudged in front of him and planted both hands on Jet's desk. "Someone called Eggman wants to speak to you."

Storm shoved her aside. "He told me that he has an interesting proposition for you," the gray bird recited. Jet was impressed. 'Proposition' was well above Storm's usual vocabulary.

Wave jostled him back, but with noticeably less effect. "Stop interrupting!" They got into a shoving match. "Knock it off!" Jet sat up sharply, his crest feathers rising even more, and the two stopped pushing and turned their backs to each other with snorts of disgust.

And a very large human strolled into the room and cleared his throat. "Am I interrupting anything?"

Jet slicked his feathers down and tried to mask his annoyance with his Rogues. "So then, I heard you wanted to see me?" He hadn't realized quite how big this Eggman was over the vidscreen, when they'd set up this meeting. But they had agreed that Wave and Storm were not to know that the meeting had been planned.

" Are you Jet, the legendary Rogue?" Eggman was following the agreement thus far, which was encouraging. "Your reputation precedes you. I've heard so much about your infamous group."

Which meant that the human had done his homework and looked up information on the Rogues. Although successful, they were hardly the stuff of world news reports. Jet generally enjoyed flattery, but he was still annoyed with his subordinates. Besides, it was getting late. "Enough! What do you want?"

"Well now," began the Doctor, genially. "I heard a rumor . . ." - one hand twiddled with his impressive red mustache - "a rumor that you have the key to Babylon Garden. Now, could this be true?" It was difficult to see his eyes behind his dark glasses, but by the light glinting on the lenses, he was looking at the box that Storm still held up. Storm started, looked at the box in panic, then stuck it behind his back and tried to whistle nonchalantly.

Jet could have clobbered him. He'd intended to put the crystal cube back into its hiding place before Eggman arrived . . . . Too late now, best play dumb. I'll bet he thinks it a key to a lock, rather than the kind it truly is. "Huh?" he said aloud. "What's this key?"

The human chortled like a bad imitation of Santa Claus. "Really now," he purred, "you don't have to be so distrusting . . . ." His voice trailed off as he eyed the green hawk speculatively. With a slight nod, as if reaching a decision, he stepped toward Jet. "Were you aware of this? I imagine not, yet. The key to Babylon Garden is –" his voice dropped as he leaned down to whisper in the hawk's ear - or where he guessed it hid under the feathers, "– currently inactive, but if you can gather the seven Chaos Emeralds then the key can be made to function again. I can help you locate and obtain the Emeralds in exchange for letting me survey the technology of Babylon Garden when you recover it."

Jet's eyes widened, then cut towards Doctor Eggman. He was well aware of Wave and Storm on the other side of the desk, trying for all they were worth to eavesdrop . He narrowed his eyes again, considering. A survey of our technology, hmm? Somehow I doubt it. But still, if we can reclaim the Garden . . . . Legends spoke of untold riches - which was what he guessed this Doctor was truly after - but also powerful defenses keyed to the Rogues and their gryphon allies. The Doctor may find more technology than he bargains for. But merely reclaiming Babylon Garden will give us not only the treasures therein but a new base of operations - IF it can be done. But what is there to lose? At last he chuckled, briefly. "So let me get this straight," he said, turning to face the human, "we just need to collect all these Chaos Emeralds, right?" The overgrown moustache bobbed as Eggman nodded. "Sounds easy."

Eggman stepped back, lacing his fingers together. "You really think so, eh?"

Jet scowled and felt the feathers rise at his nape again. "What do you mean? Are you saying the Babylon Rogues aren't capable of stealing some puny emeralds?"

"No, of course not," replied the man soothingly. "But," he tapped a few buttons on his coat sleeve that were apparently more than mere fasteners. A two-dimensional hologram appeared above his wrist, showing a blue dokan hedgehog with numbers and words flickering about him. Wave made a soft sound as if she recognized him. Jet didn't, but had to concede that he did look vaguely familiar. The Doctor continued, "He's called Sonic, and said to be the fastest creature on Earth. I've had many, many dreadful encounters with this pest."

Jet caught the sudden edge to the human's voice, that said more clearly than words that the hedgehog had not been the one to lose in most of those encounters. But still, how could even the fastest dokan on Earth challenge one who had mastered the sky? "Hmph. He may be the fastest creature on the ground, but in the air, with me and my Extreme Gear, he's just a joke." The other two Rogues joined Jet's laughter, eager for the change to recover their heritage.