Free Up In A Heaval by Piers Anthony Page B

Ghost once you reach Zombie World, and Sesame to facilitate travel there, you certainly seem to have planned well for this expedition.”
    Of course he hadn't planned it at all; it had just happened. “Well—”
    “I don't wish to bore you, but I need to be certain you understand the refinements of this particular expedition,” Princess Ida continued. “You see, you will not be able to visit that realm physically. Only your three souls will travel there. Your bodies will be safe here, of course, and most of your souls.”
    Umlaut wasn't sure he liked the sound of this. “Most of?”
    “There is a series of worlds, each rather smaller than the prior, so less of your soul is required. By the time you reach Zombie World, the amount is almost infinitesimally tiny. So the great majority of your souls will remain with your bodies. But do not be concerned—you will be fully aware and real on Zombie World. When it is time to return, merely concentrate on that, and you will very soon awaken here, your mission accomplished.”
    “But if there are so many worlds, how can we ever find our way?”
    “Sammy will lead you. Fortunately the Zombie Master prepared a shortcut route for visitors to follow. He felt that necessary because zombies are not necessarily the most alert folk, and he did not want them to become lost. They go there to retire, not to wander endlessly in foreign worlds.”
    “Uh, yes.” Umlaut found this more confusing than he cared to admit. “I wouldn't want to get lost.”
    “Wouldn't it be awful if one lost its way in a comic strip! All those dreadful puns. Zombies don't have much of a sense of humor; that portion of their brains is among the first to rot out.” She paused reflectively. “I wonder whether that is the problem with those notorious cri-tics? A rotting of their brains. That would account for a lot.”
    “I guess,” Umlaut agreed doubtfully. What was a comic strip? What was a cri-tic? Maybe he was better off not knowing.
    “Meanwhile I shall settle down to compose a response to Arjayess in Mundania,” Princess Ida said. “She is correct: We do have things in common. It was nice of her to write.”
    Umlaut wondered how she knew the letter writer was female, but he didn't ask. Maybe it had to do with her magic talent, the one she didn't care to tell him about yet.
    Princess Ida had them settle down comfortably, as if for sleep. Umlaut and Sammy Cat lay on Sesame's resilient coils. Then the princess brought something for them to sniff. First Sammy, whom she cautioned not to race ahead too fast, then Umlaut.
    He sniffed and found himself rising out of his sleeping body. It was weird. The body lay there, but he was an ethereal being passing through it, floating in space just above it. It was unconscious, but it had his substance. He was—just his soul.
    He looked around and spied a floating blob hovering above the sleeping cat. “Sammy!” he called and had to form a mouth to do it, and a head to support the mouth, and a body to bear the head. He looked down at himself and saw his cloudy substance assuming his natural form; all it took was concentration.
    Meanwhile Sammy was forming his own body, converting from blob to cat. He looked at Umlaut and issued a soundless Mew! For there did not seem to be sound here, though it seemed they could hear each other.
    A third shape rose, issuing from the coils of Sesame Serpent. The shape was twisting around uncertainly, threatening to tie itself into a knot.
    “Here, Sesame!” Umlaut called silently. “Form your image!”
    The end part of the stretched-out cloud turned to point at him. Then her body took shape. She was learning how to do it.
    Umlaut looked around again, this time beyond their little group. And suffered an odd vision. Princess Ida was sitting there, surprisingly large, gazing blankly through them. She couldn't see them but knew they were there. She lifted one hand and pointed to the little moon that orbited her head. Ptero, it was