Dreamspinner Page 15

  Although he tried to push all thoughts of Dosmik Lolien from his mind, Mykus allowed his dinner to burn, so consumed was he with questions about this strange new occurrence. Dosmik and he were friends since they were both at school, there was no way Mykus would mistake him for someone else. The years of their friendship, the days he spent at his trial and sentencing made sure his countenance was forever burned into his memory. Despite having dreams about Elestra and her murder at Dosmik’s hands, Mykus did not believe he imagined seeing that face in his bathroom mirror. He distinctly heard Tearan calling his name moments before Dosmik’s face appeared in the mirror. Then there was the sound of the door closing. If he was imagining the whole thing, why would the door open and close? Mykus frowned as his mind settled on this question, and then realised that he did not hear the door open, only the closing.

  “The sound was probably covered by the running water in the shower, or the noise of my shaver.” This was the most likely explanation and nothing changed the fact that he heard and saw the door closing, so someone had been in his room. “It had to be Tearan,” he said to the empty room. “There’s no other explanation for it. But, Dosmik Lolien? How can that be? Shit.” He dropped his head into his hands and let out a frustrated howl of anguish while the questions still raced despite his attempts to push them away. It was not too much of a stretch to imagine that Dosmik escaped custody. Mykus agreed that such things do happen, but for him to be here on this ship with him, how could that happen? He wondered what the chances were for himself and Dosmik Lolien to be amongst the only five survivors of some deep space disaster, but had no idea how to begin working out the odds. The whole idea seemed preposterous and so completely out there that Mykus knew he would not believe it if someone else reported it. After trying and failing to take his mind off the situation by watching a movie, Mykus decided to go to bed and try to sleep it off. Maybe he would feel more at ease after some sleep, he thought as he made his way back to his room.

  Sleep evaded Mykus. His mind was stuck in overdrive and refused to switch gear no matter how hard he tried to force it to quieten. Despite it being such a crazy experience, he could not move past the solid fact that he recognised Dosmik Lolien’s face. Sitting up in bed, he tried one last time to get the facts as he knew them, straight inside his mind in order to have a chance at sleeping. It was a fact that he heard Tearan calling his name; he recognised his voice from the messages on the recorder they all used. Mykus turned this first fact over inside his head several times until he was sure he had not missed anything before moving on to the second. The next unalterable fact was that he was familiar with Dosmik Lolien and would not mistake his face. They were friends since childhood and his face was permanently burned into his mind. This second point was placed neatly beside the first, then he turned his attention to the third fact. Although present when Dosmik was sentenced to the death penalty, he did not witness the execution personally. This meant there was a chance he escaped. Finally, he heard and saw the door closing, which meant someone else had been there. Despite having to admit he might have imagined the face as belonging to Dosmik Lolien, he did not imagine the closing door.

  Now too restless to remain in bed, Mykus walked the corridors of the empty ship, the strange occurrence swirling inside his mind until the anguish became too much. It was only when he put two facts together that things finally started making sense. Dosmik murdered Elestra and their two children and had known Mykus still had feelings for her. He tried to use this fact as an excuse during his trial, saying that Elestra was planning to leave him to return to Mykus and take their children with her. Although knowing this to be untrue, Mykus was somewhat surprised to find out Dosmik knew his feelings had not diminished since Elestra left him. In his twisted mind, he might wish to seek revenge for him still loving his wife. Mykus realised that it was a real possibility that Dosmik escaped and somehow caused whatever befell the ship on which he was either travelling or working, to have his revenge. The one thing he was unable to make sense of was why the voice he heard was Tearan’s when the face was Dosmik’s. Finding no answer to this conundrum, he wanted to assume that Tearan just happened to bear an uncanny resemblance to his childhood friend, but his mind was too troubled to accept that. As time wore on, events became mixed up inside his troubled mind and he grasped at one crazy idea after another until one remained. Dosmik Lolien was posing as Tearan Lindo in order to get revenge.

  “I wonder why he’s never bothered to come and introduce himself,” Mykus muttered as he paced. “Why not get his revenge and be done with it. What’s the point in pretending to be Tearan? What possible explanation was there for choosing now to reveal himself?” There was no way to know of course. Whatever motivated Dosmik might never be revealed and he found this undeniable fact troubling. His mind was one that needed precision. Unanswered questions and vague possibilities did not fit with him at all. This need for clarity made him the perfect candidate for life as an engineer and knowing that there was an aspect of this whole situation that he may never understand was like rubbing an open wound.

  Worry weighed heavy inside the troubled mind of Mykus Romin and as the hours wore on, he paced the corridors of the abandoned space ship, trying to make sense of everything. Times without number, he went through the whole situation event by event, fact by fact, but always ended up with the same thing. Dosmik Lolien murdered Elestra and her two children and was here on board the ship posing as Tearan Lindo and trying to fuck with his mind. This angered Mykus and the more he acknowledged that anger, the more of the old anger he felt rise within. Emotions he thought he had dealt with at the time of Dosmik’s trial came up from somewhere dark that he was not even aware existed within his soul and with a ferocity that scared him. This was not a straightforward case of lost love, nor even stolen love, or crime of passion. No, at the heart of this whole thing was self reproach for not trying harder to work things out with Elestra when they were breaking up. Tears coursed down Mykus’s cheeks as he finally realised that he had more anger towards himself than for Dosmik.

  Mykus was not truly aware as he began to scream. Obscenities flew from his heart and out of his mouth as he stalked the corridors. Feelings, many of which had never been acknowledged let alone voiced, were now given names, purpose, and direction. At some point in the early hours of a new morning, in those misty few hours that make it difficult to know whether you are alive or wandering in some other ethereal plane on your way to the afterlife, Mykus’s mind crumbled. He was not aware of slipping from the world of order and sanity into one of dark chaos and you may think it a blessing that he be spared the cruel knowledge of that moment of ultimate loss. The screaming stopped and the ship became quiet, those misty ethereal early hours closing around it once again.

  A light flickered red, beating regular time to a silent musical score that was echoed in the peaks and troughs of the readout waveform on the screen below. The light stopped flickering, the wave became a line and a deep voice echoed. A hand reached out and flipped switches.

  “As predicted then, good.”

  A nod of acknowledgement. “Yes.”

  Soft footfalls turn heads and bring smiles. “Hourly update on M253016-143B. Everything within acceptable parameters, Sir.”

  The smiles broaden. Chests puff with pride. The man with the pale eyes nodded to the thin young man. Both men acknowledge the curvaceous woman warmly. All the hard work was paying off. The years of research studies and computer modelling, followed by years of ethical debate and argument before real experimentation began. Pale eyes had been with the project since the very beginning when his own friend and mentor had first put the idea forward as a legitimate possibility. Pale eyes took over when he died from a broken neck after a space shuttle crash and now his thoughts turned to the memory of his old friend. Sending a thought, he hoped the old man was proud, wherever he was.

  A tall young man joined them. Pleasantries were exchanged and pride in the project was expressed. He handed over a digital console.
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  “Costings for you, Sir. Up to date as of this morning, as well as costing predictions for the next six months.”

  Pale eyes perused the information and nodded. Taking up the pen, he signed and handed back the console. The tall young man went to walk away, but hesitated.

  “Oh, by the way. Remember your meeting tomorrow with the Protocol Committee.”

  “Thank you.” Pale eyes shrugged to the thin young man. “The sponsors are pushing for a time scale and operation schedule.”

  The thin young man’s eyes widened. “So soon? We’re nowhere near that stage yet.”

  “I know, Julian, but they’re paying for everything so if they want to know when they can make use of it, it’s up to us to give them an answer they’re happy with. We need them to keep paying for everything a while longer, so it pays us to indulge them.”

  “I understand, “Julian replied. “What do you need from me?”

  Pale eyes sat down beside Julian. “Melissa, call my wife and let her know I’ll be late please?”

  Melissa made a note and walked away. Pale eyes and Julian discussed for an hour before being joined by the same tall young man as before. During the next hour, they studied readouts, watched security footage and listened to audio recordings. When they smiled, shook hands, and went their separate ways, Pale eyes was confident and proud.

  back to top

  11

  Tovis Kerral stood and stretched his back. He was not an especially big man, but spending four hours hunched half in and half out of the sensor array was not conducive to his comfort. Despite not being able to identify most of what he found within the body of the machine, he felt sure there was no inhibitor in there. If there was, it was different to the one he found in the communications station. The possibility that a different type of inhibitor lurked within the seething mass of components worried him. His engineering skill was limited to cannibalising electronic and digital components. What he found within the sensor array was beyond anything he had ever worked with and he doubted the wisdom of his decision. For the first time, he contemplated giving up the search for more inhibitors. After putting the access panels back onto the body of the sensor array, he left the room and went next door to ballistics and weapons control.

  Knowing that a distress call was going out continuously made him feel better with his predicament. The ability to call for help was the most important thing beyond basic survival needs. Although useful, a sensor array was not the most vital part of a survival kit, so he decided not to worry whether another inhibitor was hiding somewhere inside it. Weapons though, they are important. If those with ill intent discovered the ship, a chance to defend themselves meant a chance to survive. Then again, even those on the wrong side of the law would mean a way off the ship and any way off would be preferable to staying on board forever. Tovis spent years of his life in the company of people whose regard for the law was not that high. Such people did not faze him. In his opinion, laws are created by people and often tend to benefit only the rich. Many laws seemed to him to have little purpose other than to restrict the freedom of the masses, to keep them from fucking things up for the elite. The fact that upkeep of those laws was done by people with their own agendas and interpretations of their individual power engendered little respect from Tovis.

  A non-conformist and dissenter at heart, Tovis was not one to actively rail against the accepted dogma of the society in which he plied his trade. He had his own view of imposed law and societal doctrine and lived by his own code of morals rather than the ones expected of him by those in power. The last thing he wanted was to start a revolution, he would never be found waving banners or shouting from rooftops. That sort of behaviour tended to result in nothing more helpful than gaining a criminal record that would forever cast a stain upon the lives of those who were least able to bear such a burden. More can be achieved, Tovis believed, by living his life according to his own values, whether they agreed with imposed precepts or not and if a direct action against a law is required, doing so quietly and without fanfare. His career often broke imposed laws and ideology, but never his own true values and he was fine with that. It was far more important that he be able to look himself square in the eye, than for someone with a power they do not deserve and cannot wield sensibly to do so.

  Tovis knew how to be patient. His chosen career often demanded it. People were seldom predictable and even when he knew their habits and routines he never relied on them. People often think they do things to a fixed routine, but that is seldom true. They might think they leave the house at the same time every day, follow the same route to work, take lunch at the same time and place, and return home the same way at the same time. There are many differences in the tightest of schedules, which mean little to most people but can mean the difference between success and failure to people like Tovis Kerral. One person’s clock might be set a couple of minutes slower or faster than another person’s. What one person thinks of as eight thirty might be eight thirty three to someone else. Public transportation can run early, or late, or it might not turn up at all, throwing a schedule into complete chaos. A pretty girl can catch a man’s eye, delaying his progress down the street enough to save his life, or sign his death warrant. Mouth watering cakes call from shop windows and you go inside to make an unscheduled purchase. You then miss your usual hover bus or return to work a few minutes later than usual.

  Most of these discrepancies mean nothing to the vast majority of people, but for those like Tovis Kerral, they mean failure to connect with the right target. Since the cost of hiring someone in his line of work is rather high, Tovis learned the value of patience early on in his career. Shooting the wrong person not only goes against his own personal code but tends to infuriate whoever is paying him. So does not shooting the intended target at all. Tovis knew how the little variances in time change a person’s routine, so he learned to wait and observe. Haste never served him well and he had never experienced a situation where he felt panic would be appropriate. Forcing himself to think slowly and carefully, he mentally assessed his situation and came up with a plan of action. The process took no longer than five minutes and consisted of four statements and one decision.

  ‘I don’t know how I got on this ship but I can’t get off it yet.’

  ‘There are a couple of others here but they haven’t made real contact yet so I’m effectively alone in this.’

  ‘There are plenty of supplies, enough to enable me to live reasonably comfortably for years so there’s no immediate need to get away.’

  ‘There is a distress call going out on continuous auto loop.’

  ‘I will therefore dig in and wait it out until the situation changes.’

  Having made the decision, there was nothing more to do other than decide how to fill the time until the situation changed. Knowing this could be either days, or years in the future, he knew he needed to fill his days with a schedule that not only used up time but kept him sharp physically and mentally. He would work out each morning before breakfast, then spend the day checking as many of the ship’s systems as possible to check for inhibitor arrays. This would help keep his electrical and digitonic skills up to scratch and keep boredom from driving him crazy. Tearan Lindo seemed like a proactive kind of man who would no doubt be trying to find out what was going on and Tovis made the decision to aid him as much as possible. Now that he had a plan of sorts, he relaxed and returned to his room on deck two for a shower.

  Once showered and dressed in fresh clothes, Tovis decided his first job was to find out if any of the others had left messages for him on the recording device, so he jogged down to deck four and along the corridor to the engineering briefing room. He was surprised to find himself pleased when he noticed three messages waiting for him. The first was from Tearan.

  “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 shut
tle 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.”

  Tovis was pleased that he had accurately summed Tearan up. The man was obviously observant, which was always an admirable quality in a person and his theory of unused space down on decks seven and eight was intriguing. This was definitely something he wanted to be involved in. What possible purpose was there for such a hidden space? As his thoughts developed, he frowned. One fact made the whole thing suspicious as far as he was concerned; the furtiveness of it all. Unused space on its own was not something to be worried about. There could be all sorts of reasons for cordoning off part of the lower two decks and making the existing spaces smaller. Damage to the outer hulls, bringing the inevitable decompression of decks seven and eight was the first thing that came to mind. The crew might have needed somewhere in which to remain hidden from something or to remain safe from something. Some ultra-secretive military unit might be using the space for whatever their secret mission is. It was possibly a simple case of miscalculation by the creator of the maps, although Tovis thought this was probably the rank outsider of all his theories.