Dreamspinner Read online

  “I’m not going to be asking you what you do for a living, that’s for sure,” he muttered as he left the room and went down to deck four to find Mykus.

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  10

  Mykus sat on the edge of his bed for many minutes. The dream was still vivid and did not fade as dreams usually do. As his conscious mind absorbed the images, the memories flooded back and he wailed with grief. They first met as children and she never knew how much he loved her until their brief affair during their late teenage years. When she left him after falling in love with Dosmik Lolien, another of their mutual friends, Mykus’ heart broke but he remained silent and stayed that way while watching them become a couple. He was present at their marriage, was amongst the first to be told when both their children were born, and always kept his broken heart a secret. When Dosmik went crazy and murdered her and their two children, Mykus berated himself for letting her go and wished that he had said something to prevent it. He felt as guilty for their deaths as Dosmik was. If he had spoken up, she might not have fallen for their friend at all and she would not have met such a gruesome end.

  “Elestra Millay,” Mykus whispered to the empty room as he finally remembered her name. With a moan of anguish, he dragged his heavy heart from its melancholy and went to shower. First priority on his list was the investigation of the stanchions that hold the engine housing in place within the engine bay at the very centre of the ship. He knew that if there were a problem with them, or the gas supply tubes and valves that ran along the top of two of them, he would not be able to fix it alone. Each of the stanchions weighed several tons and Mykus was confident that even with Tearan and Doctor Arma helping, their combined strength would be inadequate for the task. When the ship was built, the stanchions were put into place using computer controlled robotic cranes. Not having power to the ship meant such help was unavailable and all work would have to be done by man power alone. No, if the stanchions, gas supply tubes, or valves prove to be faulty, it’s goodbye to their dreams of getting the ship going.

  How can there be so many different hues of the colour green? Mykus asked himself this question every time he encountered this type of engine. When working at optimum, there were so many greens they defied his attempts to count them. The silently swirling liquid gases within were mesmerising. Like a slowly churning maelstrom, it drew his gaze and held him in its hypnotic grasp. A galaxy in miniature, he reckoned that if he concentrated hard enough, he might watch stars form, planets encircle them while their own moons orbit gracefully. As quickly as these solar systems formed, they disappeared, to be replaced seconds later with more. Mykus was always transfixed and appreciated the engines not only for their efficiency, but also for their hypnotic beauty. Forcing away his daydream, he rolled his neck around before climbing into the safety harness.

  Once he was safely attached to the topmost stanchion, Mykus fixed the Snail in place and switched it on. The ring shaped device is designed to detect minute cracks and flaws in metal rods and tubes. Nicknamed the Snail because of the slow pace at which it crawls along the rod, its digital readout displays what its range of sensitive detectors are seeing. If the Snail picks up a flaw or minute crack, it stops its slow creep along the stanchion, a light flashes and an alarm sounds. Best of all, the device is battery powered so the ship’s lack of power was not an issue. Mykus would not have to hang there in the harness twiddling his thumbs for hours watching the Snail creeping along each of the stanchions. That would be slightly less interesting than watching paint dry. He would be able to occupy himself with other tasks, but he would have to remain within earshot of the alarm.

  Once the Snail began its slow creep along the first of the stanchions, Mykus climbed down to check the third most likely source of any problem on his list. The collector, fitted inside the base of the engine housing, is a ten-foot high rod that sticks up through the centre of the swirling mix of liquid gases. Its tip is coated with a substance that attracts the Quasic particles produced by the mixing of the two liquid gases. Once attracted to the tip of the collector, the Quasic particles are channelled down its length and into the base where they are stored prior to passing through the Quasic Modulator on their way to be used by the ship’s various systems. Checking the operation of the collector and modulator should be relatively simple tasks and Mykus would normally be finished by the time three of the stanchions had been checked. The collector has a built in diagnostic system that checks the efficiency of the particle collection, the integrity of the storage module, and the calibration of the modulator. Having no power to the engine meant that he was forced to rig up a bypass circuit to power the diagnostic from the Life Support System power feed. So long as his bypass held, the diagnostic would function normally. All he had to do was set the diagnostic programme going, then sit back and wait until the Snail had finished its slow creep along the stanchion.

  By the time he stopped for a meal, he was pacing. Having run the collector and modulator diagnostic programme and found them both working perfectly, he spent some time tidying the engineering section before finally sitting down to wait it out. Now he knew without doubt that three of the stanchions were undamaged, two of them being the ones carrying the gas resupply tubes and valves. In an effort to be optimistic, he allowed himself to predict that all the others would prove to be undamaged too. Despite the job of checking the engine taking so much time, everything needed to be checked in the right order to be sure of finding the problem. Once he knew for sure that the whole of the engine assembly was functioning normally, the next thing to check would be the supply tubes that ran from the Quasic Modulator, to all corners of the ship wherever power is needed. The task would be labour intensive but there was no other way to find whatever the problem might be. Besides, there was nothing else for him to do whilst stuck aboard an abandoned space ship, so why not? It would save him from going crazy with boredom.

  Deciding on a whim to go along the corridor to the engineering briefing room to leave an update for Tearan, he yawned and stretched as he left the main engineering room and headed left. His interest was immediately piqued as his eyes fell upon three small components on the large table that dominated the room. Reaching over to scoop them up, he recognised what they were and frowned.

  “An inhibitor array. What the hell is this doing here?” Hoping the recorder would yield an explanation, he went over and played the messages from Tovis and Tearan.

  “Hi there, guys. My name is Tovis Kerral and I’m a survivor like yourselves. I managed to get the comms working today. There was some sort of inhibitor attached inside that prevented it from working. It’s really weird, I’ve not come across anything like it before. I’ve left it on the table here for Mykus to take a look at. Your engineering brain might recognise it. You might even find them in other parts of the ship. I listened to your messages by the way and I was wondering if any of you are getting your memories back yet? The reason I ask is because I have no amnesia at all, which is a little weird don’t you think. Why should I not have it when all of you three do? I am having weird dreams though. Anyway, maybe we should get together, we’d surely be stronger as a unit. I’m in room ten on deck two. I’ll keep checking out the security room and engineering and see if I can’t catch you guys there. By the way, I’ve set a distress call going on an automatic loop so we don’t have to continuously man the comms.”

  Mykus was delighted to learn they had a new companion and hoped to meet him soon. He examined the inhibitor array in his hands, glad that there was someone else with some electrical and digitonics expertise aboard to help him out. He listened to Tearan’s message and frowned.

  “Hi there, Tovis, Tearan Lindo here. Welcome to umm, well wherever we are. I can’t see any component on the table here, so I guess Mykus is already checking it out. I hope he finds and removes one from the shuttle bay emergency controls so we can get those bay doors closed and have access to those shuttles. I’ve noticed something odd about the size of the rooms down on decks seven and eight.
The rooms as they appear on the maps are much bigger than they actually are and I estimate there’s a substantial amount of space hidden away down there. Take a look at the maps and pace out the cargo hangar and shuttle bay. Then go and pace out the hazardous waste store, you’ll see what I’m talking about. I’m shifting some stuff in the cargo hangar so I can gain access to the far wall that should be the boundary wall of the spare space and if it comes to it, I’ll crash through it with a hover loader. I won’t rest until I’ve found out the reason for the discrepancy in the sizes of those rooms. Have either of you come across Doctor Arma yet? And have either of you seen that crazy shit down in the medical bay? Go take a look if you want to be creeped out. It makes me wonder if it’s safe down there. He could be a crazy hatchet murderer for all we know, waiting to leap out on us and hack our heads off. Be careful down there until we know for sure where he is and what condition he’s in. Oh, by the way. I got the rest of my memories back over the past couple of days, all except some of the more recent stuff. I’ve started having some nightmares too, so I guess this is all part of the process. Come by the cargo hangar and find me, I’d like to meet you both.”

  Tearan said there were no components on the table, but they were right there, he only found them a minute ago. How did he not see them? A dark cloud of fear came to life within his gut; fear for Tearan. So far, he seemed to be someone Mykus felt comfortable relying on and he was grateful that his only travelling companion was so dependable and sensible. Now he seemed to be losing it. Either that, or Mykus himself was and that thought did not exactly please him. He had also been wondering about Doctor Arma for days now and this news from Tearan did nothing to allay his fears. A doctor was a very useful addition to any group of people struggling to survive and for him to have not kept in touch was a further worry. Also of concern was Tearan’s point about whether it was safe for anyone to venture around the ship without knowing what had happened to the doctor. It was entirely possible that this strange and traumatic experience was too much for his mind to cope with. Mykus shuddered at the thought that he might be sharing an abandoned space ship with a crazy assed axe murderer and decided it would be prudent to arm himself at the earliest opportunity. Trying not to panic, he recorded his own update.

  “Hello, Tovis and welcome to this crazy ass nightmare. It’s Mykus here. I have the inhibitor array you found and will check it out in more detail this afternoon while waiting for some stanchion integrity tests to finish. Tearan, I’ve only just found the inhibitor, so I’ve no idea why you couldn’t see them when you recorded your message. Are we time travelling here now as well as everything else? That’s a joke by the way; please don’t let that be actually happening, I don’t think I could cope with that on top of all this other weird shit. Anyway, I can now confirm that the engine housing itself is intact and working perfectly, as is the collector and modulator. There are six more stanchions to check, but I have a hunch they will prove to be undamaged too. It looks as if I’m going to have to start checking the supply tubes that lead out from the modulator. That’s not a job I’m looking forward to, but it’s the obvious next step on the journey. Also, it’ll be the first thing I will actually be able to fix if there is a problem. If it had been a problem with the engine, we would have no hope of getting the ship going again. I’ll check the emergency shuttle bay control for an inhibitor this afternoon too. Now we know one was aboard, there may be more. I’ll keep you updated. I’m worried about the situation regarding Doctor Arma and I have to admit it makes me nervous not knowing if he is okay or if we need to be careful. I’m an engineer not a soldier and I don’t like violence. Oh, before I go. I’ve got my memories back too, but like you guys, the very recent stuff is still missing. The nightmares too, I’m having them now so I guess it’s part of the process. It’s better than not knowing anything though; that would definitely have driven me round the bend if it had continued for too long. Can we finally make a concerted effort to meet up now? You both know where to find me. Anyway, keep in touch guys.”

  Mykus was preoccupied throughout his meal. The combination of worry about the Doctor Arma situation, coupled with curiosity about the inhibitor array meant he was unable to concentrate on the pleasure of eating. Before leaving the dining room, he returned to the kitchen, took down two large carving knives, and hefted them from hand to hand. Jabbing and thrusting at thin air, Mykus practiced defending himself despite not knowing whether he would have the courage to stab a living person if it came to it. He hoped never to find out.

  Once the Snail was busily making its way along another stanchion, Mykus turned his attention to the inhibitor array. With the aid of a pair of high magnification goggles, he examined it carefully before taking the small components apart piece by piece. It did not take him long to realise that the situation he had found himself in was even more strange than all of them thought. Once he was sure of his findings, he raced back along the corridor to the briefing room and snatched up the recorder.

  “Hey, guys, it’s Mykus again. It’s now just over two hours since my last message and I’ve taken a close look at that inhibitor array you found, Tovis. I took it apart and checked it thoroughly and it makes this whole crazy situation even more crazy than any of us could have thought. That specific type of inhibitor is high end stuff. Extremely high end actually. In fact, it’s a military component, I recognised the serial numbers on the inside and those prefixes are used for military components only. I’m not sure what this means for us and our part in this, whatever this situation is, but it just got a whole lot weirder. I have to get back to engineering, but I thought you should both know.”

  The afternoon dragged by, the passage of time marked by the slow progress of the Snail making its leisurely way along each of the remaining stanchions. Mykus stuck it out until all of them were checked and found to be without flaw, which meant he was late finishing but the thought of waiting for the Snail again the next day was too much. He was glad to get it all done in the one day and headed down to deck five and his room for a shower before making himself a meal. The following day, he would begin the huge task of gradually following each of the supply tubes that led out from the Quasic Particle Modulator. The supply tubes ran along under the floors and behind the inner hull inside the crawlspace. As he stripped off his clothes, he thought about the logistics of following each of the supply tubes throughout the entire ship. Should he follow each tube from the Modulator in engineering to its destination, or should he check each of the supply tubes on each floor and work down deck by deck? Deciding to think about it after a few hour’s sleep, he stepped into the shower.

  Wrapped in nothing more than a towel, Mykus stood before the mirror in his small bathroom and rubbed a hand over his chin. Stubble scratched his fingers and he frowned. Shaving was a chore he hated, but his hatred of facial hair was greater, so he took the time to do it. Worried blue eyes stared back at him as he gazed at his reflection and realised that he seemed different somehow. It had been a long time since he had studied his reflection and it was almost as if he did not recognise himself any more. He was about to turn away when he heard a voice call his name. It was Tearan; he recognised the voice from the recorder. Without warning, another face appeared behind him in the mirror. Gasping in shock, his hand went to his mouth as he felt adrenaline course through him. Shaking with the shock, Mykus was rooted to the spot as the pounding in his chest throbbed in his ears. Mykus knew he should confront him, but he was startled almost out of his wits by the sudden appearance of a face from so long ago, a face he should not be seeing again. Terror and surprise held him firm, preventing any action on his part so he stood, transfixed. It may have happened years ago, but Mykus knew he would never forget that face. No matter if he forgot everyone he had ever known, that face was forever etched upon his mind.

  “Dosmik Lolien?” he whispered. This was the last thing he would ever expect to happen. What the fuck was Elestra Millay’s murderer doing here on board this abandoned space ship with him? No, it was
not happening. It was impossible for one obvious reason; Dosmik Lolien had been sentenced to death for murdering Elestra and their two children. This meant either he was imagining it, or Tearan bore an uncanny resemblance to the murderer. Mykus spun around to find no one behind him, but the distinctive swish of the door to his room caught his attention and he leapt from the bathroom just as the door to the corridor closed. Thoughts raced around inside his mind, so many questions that he found himself temporarily rooted to the spot unable to decide what to do. With a shake of his head, he screamed and ran for the door, leaping out into the corridor and looking both ways as he yelled at the top of his voice.

  “Hey, Tearan. Or should I say, Dosmik? Come back here and talk to me. Hey, hey.” Mykus stood in the corridor wrapped in the towel and yelled his head off for almost a minute until his throat dried and he coughed. Reluctantly he returned to his room and dressed hurriedly, before running along the corridor to check the kitchen, dining room and recreation room for Tearan. When he did not find him, he raced up to deck three and along the corridor to the security room and hammered on the door, yelling Tearan and Dosmik’s names and demanding to be let in. He remained there for several minutes, hammering and yelling and finally slammed his own key card in the slot and marched into the room, not caring whether anyone was waiting there with a gun aimed at his head or not. He searched the entire security suite, even the lockers and cupboards and punched the wall in frustration when he had to admit that no one was there. Growling with anger, he marched back down to the kitchen to make his meal.