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Chapter Three


I turned around to find the dark, Jamaican man standing there and smiling.

"Hey, mon," he said. "I'm Reggie. I own da' Jammer over der. It's a bar and club. Anything you need, you just let ma' know, mon. Anything at all."

"I'm Barnum — and thank you. Where's the nearest town?" I asked Reggie.

"I know your name, mon. Red sent a message you'd be comin' in. Montego Bay is right down da' beach dat way about a mile," Reggie pointed. "You wanna' another drink?" "You wanna' go into town, mon? I get you a driver and a car."

"You know Red?" I asked.

He laughed, "Mon, everybody knows Red. Everybody that's in-the-know, anyway." "He laughed, "Red said you were shizzing. I didn't even know you could still get dat stuff, mon. Shizzlebot. The ol' shizz, mon.

"How'd you know we were coming," I asked.

"Red called me on da' telephone, of course," Reggie said.

"The telephone?" I said puzzled. "What year is it?"

"The clocks stopped working here a long time ago. We really don't keep track, mon."

"Reggie, thanks for your warm hospitality," I said. "I need to go find my friend, and perhaps we'll come into the Jammer in a bit."

"OK, mon," he said. "It's all you."

"Thanks, Reggie," I said as we shook hands. I didn't quite get the handshake right. I never did. I never kept up.

Reggie walked off away from the beach towards his bar. I walked down near the beach in the direction I had last seen Gnothi heading. There was a band on stage, fronted by a man in long dreadlocks. He was playing guitar and singing. The man's face began to come into focus as I neared the stage. He looked like Bob Marley. I walked closer, not believing my eyes. At closer range, I could see — it was Bob Marley. A far as I knew he had been dead for years — and here he was singing.

We're jammin'
We're jammin'
We're jammin'
We're jammin'

My head was swimming with the realization of something I didn't understand. I needed to find Gnothi.

I looked around a sea of dark, dancing bodies. A light-skinned man in this crowd wouldn't be hard to spot. I saw Gnothi off near the other side of the stage. He was dancing and smiling. I traversed my way through the wave of rhythmically moving bodies. Moments later, I was standing next to him.

"Nice place, huh, Barnum," he laughed. "Just what a weary man like me needed."

"It was a nice place until I saw Bob Marley up there singing," I said. "I was fine until a few minutes ago. What's he doing here?" I asked. He's been dead for over a hundred years."

"Gnothi, can we go down to the beach and away from the music so we can talk?" I asked. "I've got a few questions."

"Of course, you do," he said. "Let's go then."

Gnothi and I walked away from the pulsing music and the swaying crowd. The sounded faded as we made our way down to the beach. We walked in silence. It was beautiful there — I had to admit. We walked for perhaps a mile, and could see the outline of buildings of a town. I figured that must be Montego Bay.

We were approaching an old, large wooden mooring. It looked as good a place to sit as any. There were a few small fishing boats gently tumbling and knocking together. We walked out on to the mooring as it creaked under our feet. When we reached the end, we sat down — our legs dangling over the sides. I could feel a light, cool salty mist spraying across my face.

"So, what can I fill you in on," Gnothi offered.

"Could you tell me a little more about the shizz," I asked "A little about Red's new movers. And a little about how Bob Marley is jamming right down the beach from us."

I expected Gnothi to laugh hysterically at my inquires. He didn't.

"Well, let's start with the shizz," he said. "It is Shizzlebot we smoked, but the strain I have has been modified. It works by time-release. It's more stable. I knew we had about an hour after our morning smoke to get to some movers. The reason people believe shizz has been removed to some kind of museum-status substance, is because it was moved farther underground, and out of general sight. Yes, there have been more advanced boosters developed, but shizz still has some special properties that all the other boosters don't have. It's a classic. An original"

Gnothi continued, "Most of the newer boosters were developed for commercial applications. You'll notice that all the commercial movers and boosters are designed to primarily move objects — not people. That's what 2T and other transporter companies do best."

"If it absolutely, positively has to be there now, he laughed, "that's when you call on a commercial transporter company. That's when you hire a commercial mover."

"Barnum," he continued. "You know enough about Boomer and the Blue Men, that there's a lot I don't have to fill you in on. You know back in the early days, movers were designed to stablize dreaming. Unaided dreaming on boosters, like Shizzlebot and Remington, was just too dangerous."

"Back when you were a kid, when the law was passed about experiments, Boomer and other Blue Men had to move their operations and labs to more secure and secretive places. They could not afford to be found out," he giggled. "Frankly, they needed the pussy too much. They couldn't take the women holding out on them. It was all rigged, all the way to the mayor's office. A law was passed to calm everyone down, and to give the civic illusion that 'something was being done, goddamn it'. After that, the women were happy, the men were happy — the town was happy. Everyone was happy. Everyone was getting laid again. Well, not everyone, but you know what I mean."

"Not too long after the Blue Men went completely underground with their experiments, the first proto-type dreaming booster was developed. They called it Remington.

"The inventors in your town found that dreaming gave them ideas - and solutions to problems they had tinkered with for ages. Actually, the practicality of the Cherry bikes that were invented by Boomer, legitimized dreaming, and made dreaming even more respectable as an art and a craft in the eyes of the other inventors, and even some people in the town."

Gnothi tilted his head been, and let out a roaring laugh. "Those temples,"he said. "Those temples and lodges in the town, back then. All those meetings every Tuesday. And all those secret rooms in the lodges. People would pass out if they knew what went on in those meetings and in those back rooms!"

He stood up and hopped up and down on the mooring, making it creaked and swayed under his weight. "Beds!" he shouted. "They had beds in those rooms! That's what they did at those meetings — they slept! Haaaaa! Every Tuesday night, the men met at seven o'clock in the evening. They spent thirty minutes on old business, thirty minutes on new business — and then they went back to the cots in the back rooms — and snoooooozed! They were dreaming."

"Some of the reoccuring old business at the meetings was the need to develop some kind of tool for recalling dreams. The problem was, a lot of solutions may or may not have been found during the men's dream-states, but upon awakening, they would forget. They needed a state that didn't require passing the REM stage to dream. At some point, not too long after the law was passed, Boomer hit on a discovery. He called it Remington."

"Remington was the first early booster to be developed. It was a chemical cousin to d-lysergic acid diethylamide. It had not gone unnoticed by the inventors in the town that rye has special properties. It was found that ergot alkaloids which are produced by the ergot fungus, growing on rye, had peculiar effects. They also experimented with morning glory seeds. News had reached them from Germany about a new chemical had been synthesized that produced quite interesting results, it was called Lysergide or LSD-25. The first booster wasn't LSD, but it had some similar characteristics."

"After some experiments and test trials, Boomer came up Rem. It was an ergot alkaloid-based chemical. This was all before the devlopment of movers. Remington didn't generate a gravity field, the way shizz later did. But Rem did the trick. Rem lasted for about an hour — just long enough for the men to dream the currently-needed solution, and remember it long enough to write it down. Shizzlebot came from Rem-dream sessions. But not until several years later. It was the introduction of shizz, unaided by movers, that caused the big change — and that's when everything went ape-shit."

"The big problems all started when some shizz went missing from a lab. Some punks somehow got ahold of it. Well, the punks obviously had minds that were all over the place, and all sorts of strange things started happening around town. Those punks turned out to be the original Wanderers. They were a loose and unorganized band of anarchists. Their shizzdreaming resulted in some major changes in the world as we knew it, much of which you already know. Any holes that might need filing in the story of the early Wanderers — I'll fill in for you later.

"By the time Shizzlebot had been discovered, those who initially used it were in good condition for it. They had great abilities of mental concentration. The first batches of shizz only had an effect for about two minutes. The Blue Men who alpha and beta tested it early on could concentrate on one, single thought — which no distractions or free-associations — during the two minutes the shizz was peaking stong enough to cause a gravtional field. They would shizzdream individually, and sometimes in groups of three. Shizzdreaming was altogether different than Remdreaming. Remdreaming produced subjective experiences that could be developed into objective, real-world results. Shizz, collapsed the subjective and objective worlds. The person shizzing could concentrate on a given object, known or unknown, and have the object materialize, in what they called the Tray. The Tray was a three-cubic-foot iron box that had been crudely fashioned. The Tray was simple, but it worked brilliantly."

"Objects that the men concentrated on while shizzing had to be smaller than the Tray — so, that when the object materialized, it could be held in the magnetic field in the Tray until the effects of the shiz had reduced enough that the gravitational field of the shizzer's sweet spot no longer distorted the space/time continnuum. The Tray could then be open and the object removed."

"In the start, the Blue Men used the Tray for obtaining much needed items for other experiments, such as specially-designed gears and various raw metals that were hard to get. Later, they began to have fun, and started using the Tray for entertainment. They used it to get boxes of Cuban cigars, rare wines and brandies and other fine enjoyments."

"Of course, someone came up with the idea of using the Tray to get cold-hard cash. They started small, and only would get one-hundred dollars at a time. It was actually the cash money that the men put into circulation that tipped them off to the fact that what was appearing in the Tray was not only not unique, it was an exact replica of objects. The Tray and the shizzing were producing clones." "The way the men had discovered this, was that there had been a story in the newspapers that some bills had appeaerd at a bank in Pittsburg, bearing the same serial numbers as other bills already in circulation. From that, the men rightly concluded that the objects in the Tray were not only being cloned, but that the original object had remained undisturbed in their original location. Objects, like cigars and even some bottles of brandy, were not obvious. They were not missed by their original owners, because, of course, the objects never went missing. They were still there. But unique objects, such as a one-of-a-kind piece of jewlery or dollar bills with individual serial numbers — that was a problem."

"Immediately, they ceased using the Tray for objects that were unique or easily identifiable. In fact, as a side piece of information, the men soon began using the Tray to "manufacter" raw diamonds. The diamonds were laundered through Amsterdam, and the cash used to fund certain businesses the Blue Men were behind. The first and main business that they they backed was Two Teeth Deliveries and Big Red. Of course, there was legal money generated through the deliveries — but nothing near the capital that was infused into the business. That's why it grew so fast. That's how it became 2T - which was the company behind the development of the movers. 2T is nothing more than an operations front."

"There was absolutely nothing illegal about the operations of the Blue Men. They manufactured diamonds in their own unique way. There was no law that stated you could not make your own diamonds. It's just, that since they had such a unique manner of doing it — they kept it under wraps."

This all made sense to me, I thought. A lot of the pieces of the puzzle were coming together. I had known a lot of the story, but major threads and pieces were missing. I still had a lot of questions, but I also felt comforted that somehow Gnothi knew the answers.

I'd heard enough for the moment. My brain needed a rest, and time to digest what Gnothi had told me.

"My head's full enough, right now," I said to Gnothi.

"Fair enough," he grinned. "We'll cover some other things after we get something to eat. I'm starving."

"Do you mind if I ask how Bob Marley got here - now, on the same beach with us," I added.

Gnothi chuckled, "The where's and how's and who's are merely technicalities. We can discuss all that later. "

Gnothi rose and stretched. I got up and noticed my legs had fallen asleep. I lost my balance, and teetered for a moment. Then I fell head-first off the mooring and splashed into the blue ocean water. The water I landed in was only about four-feet deep. I stood up on the shifting sand below my feet, and looked up to see Gnothi bent over clutching his side from laughter.

"The ocean looks good on you," he said with a roar. "Let's get you dried off, and head back for some food and some more music."

He turned around and began walking on the 30-foot-long mooring towards the shore. When he was about half-way, he stopped and turned around to face me, just as I was getting out of the water and shaking the salt water from my hair.

"You want to know about Bob Marley, I'll tell you," he said with a grin. "Bob Marley is always in Jamaica — you just have to know where to look. "

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