Dreamspinner Page 9

  “By the end of the day tomorrow I’ll know either way and can tell Tearan.” When he finished his meal, he wandered back to the engineering briefing room intending to leave an update for him, There was a message waiting.

  “Mykus, it’s Tearan. Okay, that would seem obvious now you mention it. There must be some sort of back up in place for emergencies. I hope you have more success. I came to engineering but you weren’t around. Never mind, you’re busy anyway. There’s something odd down on decks seven and eight too, a size discrepancy with the maps. Take a look next time you’re down there, check the map against the actual size of the rooms. Is it just me that thinks there should be more room? Let me know what you think.”

  Mykus switched the device to record.

  “Hi, Tearan. I can’t find any problems with the shuttle bay emergency back up control between the console and the access port where the wires go through into the crawlspace. I’ll check the rest of the journey through the crawlspace down to the shuttle bay tomorrow and will update you then. I’ll also take a look at the maps of decks seven and eight too and see if I can see what you’re on about. I will be inside the crawlspace for most of tomorrow, so I won’t be around if you come down to engineering. By the way, thanks for fixing the vidicom screen in the Rec Room. I’m glad to have an electrical engineer around to help. Do you want to investigate the comms and see if it’s fixable?”

  He then noticed that the doctor had not replied to his last message, so he left another.

  “Doctor Arma, are you still with us?”

  When he thought about this new survivor who had done nothing other than introduce himself, Mykus felt a darkness flutter to life within his heart and then disappear as quickly as it came. There was suddenly no doubt in his mind that something awful had befallen the doctor and that he would not be replying to his message. If there was no reply within another day, he would mention it to Tearan, he decided. With a shrug, he went back down to deck five and wandered into the recreation room to watch a movie before going to bed.

  The air inside the crawlspace was markedly colder than that inside the body of the spaceship and Mykus was glad he had put an extra layer of clothing on before stepping through the access panel. The job would entail him spending most of the day inside the narrow walkway and he intended to be as comfortable as possible. It was bad enough having to be in there at all and being cold as well would be too much to bear, he decided. As the hours wore on, he inched his way along and down each deck, his magnifying goggles making the task of examining the wires and connections, a little easier. He was beginning to despair by the time he reached the ceiling level of deck seven, when two things made his flagging energy and focus snap to attention. The first thing was that he found the problem. A four-inch section of one purple coloured wire was missing. An overload connection socket that would lie in the middle of the missing section was also gone and switching his goggles to full magnification, Mykus saw the wires at both ends of the missing section were cut cleanly.

  “That’s odd,” he frowned and removed his goggles. “If I was the paranoid type I might think the system had been sabotaged. Tearan will be interested to know about this.” As he turned around in the narrow confines of the walkway, the light on his goggles shone up ahead and illuminated where the whole mass of wires, tubes, and connections, disappeared through what was the ceiling level of deck seven. Holding the light above his head, Mykus shone the light ahead into the gloom. The furrows still evident upon his brow, deepened further as he realised that access down to the deck seven level was blocked off. The hole in the floor through which the ladder built into the wall descended was blocked and the walkway continued around deck six on the other side of what Mykus knew should be the access ladder. The ladder itself was there, built into the side of the middle hull. He shone his light up past the upper floors and their walkways, and knew the ladder should continue down to the lowest deck.

  A return trip to engineering secured another length of the correct wire and the appropriate connector and Mykus had the missing section repaired within twenty minutes. Once he had repaired the break, he took the time to make an entire circuit of the walkway above deck seven, but found no access panels.

  “This is ridiculous. There should be access to all decks within the walkway in case of emergencies. Why the fuck would they want to block access to the lower two decks?” Tearan’s words came back to his mind and Mykus nodded. “I guess that answers Tearan’s question about a discrepancy in the room sizes on the maps. I’ll go and check it right now.”

  Squinting his eyes to focus properly, Mykus focussed on the maps and frowned. “I’d guess the storage hangar to be around four times the size of the shuttle bay.” With a determined shrug, he marched along the corridor to the storage hangar and went inside. The size of the room in relation to the shuttle bay was immediately apparent. “No way is this four times bigger. Twice perhaps but four times? Never.” Carefully, he paced it out, then paced along the corridor outside the shuttle bay and scratched his head. “Yep. Twice the size, approximately. So either their mapmaker had a really bad day when he did deck seven, or something is odd about this place. Something other than the walkway access being blocked off that is. Oh, and something other than nothing but the life support systems being functional.”

  Taking the stairs two at a time, Mykus went down to deck eight, checked the map and then paced out the hazardous waste store. Sure enough, the room was nowhere near as big as the map claimed. Taking the discrepancies on both decks together, he realised there was only one possible solution.

  “There’s a whole section of the ship sectioned off and not represented on the maps. Whoa, that tickles my paranoia circuits something chronic.” Shaking his head, he climbed up to deck four and after trying the shuttle bay door emergency control, ran along to the briefing room. Snatching up the recorder, he listened to the message that waited for him.

  “Mykus, Tearan here. I know we’re all still suffering from amnesia, but one thing I can say with complete authority is that I’m no engineer. I’m glad the vidicom is working though, a movie does help the time to pass. I would advise that you don’t ask me to fiddle with anything electrical or I’m likely to blow us all into oblivion. I do know about navigation though, the nav section on the bridge feels very familiar and comfortable, so if you can get this crate going, I will be able to direct us to the nearest system.”

  After listening a couple more times, Mykus allowed Tearan’s words to sink in before trying to understand the ramifications of them. When he did, his eyes widened in shock.”

  “Tearan. I can assure you the vidicom has been fixed by someone. That means both you and I are both nuts, or there is someone else aboard with us. I feel sure it isn’t Doctor Arma though, and I have a really bad feeling about him. I am willing to bet you a hundred that something horrible has happened to him. Call me crazy if you want, but I know what I’m feeling. Anyway, I followed the wiring along via the crawlspace right down to deck six and found a section of wire had been cut and removed. Cut, not broken by the way. Deliberately cut out. Four inches of it including an overload connection socket, cut out cleanly. Another thing too, the engineering crawlspace has been blocked off above deck seven. Access down there is impossible, I checked for access panels but there are none. This is very odd and against all the regulations in existence. I also agree about the size of the rooms on decks seven and eight. I paced it out and you’re right, there’s a large area of space sectioned off down there. Now for the bad news. Despite fixing the wire, the shuttle bay emergency back up control still will not work and I cannot get those bay doors shut. Sorry. I’m going to continue my inspection of the ship’s systems. Come by when you have time and talk about it.”

  Mykus secured the harness and stepped over the railing into the engine bay, the massive bullet shaped engine towering above him. For the entire day, interrupted only by a break for lunch and two breaks to pee, he worked on the engine housing. With the special goggles secured to hi
s eyes, he inched his way across and down and by the time he stopped for the day, he had checked two thirds of the engine housing and found no flaws to explain why the ship was becalmed. The following day saw the job finished and Mykus was pleased as he hauled himself back over the railing and discarded the safety harness.

  There was now no doubt that the engine housing itself was not the cause of the lack of power. The housing was in perfect condition, the clear surface without a single flaw or minute crack that would adversely affect the mix of liquid gases within. Walking over to the wall and his list of possible causes for the ship’s lack of power, he reached up and crossed off the first on the list. The next thing was to check the stanchions that held the housing in place within the curved engine bay. Along the top of two of these stout metal rods lay gas supply tubes, allowing the gases within the engine itself to be replenished as the production of power depleted them. Self-regulating valves at the end of each supply tube allowed the right amount of gases to enter the engine safely and at the right pressure to keep the whole thing working at optimum.

  Mykus tossed and turned, his sleep no longer a dreamless void. The air, heavily humid after a recent rainstorm sapped his energy as he stood beneath the trees and listened to the wind. Leaves fell around him, dancing in the air as the wind caught them and tossed them along like the dancing bugs he used to watch as a boy. A sudden squeal from above rang through the howling wind and he craned his neck up. The large Fallowingall soared effortlessly despite the gale, its multi-coloured blue feathers the only bright spot in a grey and dismal day. Mykus knew that even if the sun were to shine and spring flowers to burst through the sodden ground on which he stood, the heaviness within his heart would still make the day grey and dismal.

  The beautiful face filled his memory despite her name remaining a mystery and as is the way of dreams, he did not question why her name should be hidden from him. It did not matter anyway, her face was clear in his mind and he knew that he loved her more than life itself. That and the fact that she was dead. He knew that too and it was this fact that lay upon his heart like a stone. The woman was not his wife, of that he was as sure as he knew his own name. Neither were they lovers, although there might have been a connection long ago. So long ago. The feeling of his hands caressing the swell of her hips was as vague and fleeting as the touch of a blue green Fairy Fly. Those full pink lips had once kissed his own and although he could not bring the memories through into the dream, he was confident of their truth.

  Bells chimed in the public square the day she married his best friend and he stood beside them, a fake smile hiding the rent in his heart that he knew would never be healed. Three years of marriage brought forth two children and Mykus gave them his blessings as they brought each infant home and became a proper family. Many times, he tried to draw away from the family, their obvious love like a knife within his heart, but always he would return the moment his friend called for him. There would always be questions and Mykus tried to evade them, feigning work responsibilities that needed his attention. It was too painful to be around them, watching her happy with another man who was unable to love her in the same way or to the same degree as he did. Eventually he moved to a non-existent job in a city far away and tried to get on with his life.

  Mykus tossed and turned as the dream images flowed past ever quicker. Months passed, became years and his life moved on. Work took up much of his time and he poured himself into it, desiring to fill his mind and heart with anything other than the woman he loved but could not have. Friends came and he welcomed them warmly, for they claimed a few more of the empty lonely hours and occupied his mind. Five years after his best friend had brought his infant son home to join their year old daughter and proudly showed him to Mykus, his boss called him into the office and asked if he would oversee the setting up of an outpost in another city. There was no one else to do it and a substantial bonus would be the reward for a week of easy work. The boss pleaded and Mykus accepted.

  It was not until he had accepted the job that he found out it was in the city he left behind, the city he vowed never to return to. Now it was too late to refuse without having to explain and he was stuck, he could not avoid it. Hoping to avoid coming into contact with the man who had been his lifelong friend and the woman who tormented his heart so, Mykus kept his head down and concentrated on the job. Everything was going well until the day before he was due to return and his sudden decision to stop in at a diner. If it were not for that decision, he would not be there standing under the trees listening to the plaintive cry of the Fallowingall after the rain.

  Mykus cried out in his sleep, tossing the sheet aside as his anguished heart leapt in his breast, but did not awaken. The dreadful images kept him prisoner, forcing him to bear witness as he watched himself in the diner, eating the delicious food. The news broadcast was on the vidicom and someone shouted for the serving woman to turn the sound up. The clamour of voices fell silent as her eyes, the woman he had given his heart to all those years ago, found his own. The breath left his lungs as he listened to the reporter tell him how the woman’s husband killed her and their two children, cut them up, then tried to pretend the wife killed the children and then herself. Leaving his food, he rushed outside and vomited.

  The howling wind blew through the trees, sending a chilling shower of drops down onto Mykus’ head as he stood under the grey sky. His best friend had been executed and Mykus had lost everyone he ever loved. The best friend, the woman, and the two children she bore. Months passed and he tried to get on with his life but found it impossible. While she lived, there was always a seed of hope that one day she might again be his, as she had been once, long ago. Now she was dead and he was forced to face the fact that he would never feel her lips on his nor her arms around his waist. Stepping out from the cover of the trees, Mykus felt the wind grab at his shirt and hair, chilling him through. Ignoring the sudden cold, he quickened his steps to a run and did not falter as he flung himself headlong from the cliff and waited to be dashed against the rocks four hundred feet below and, he allowed himself to hope, into the arms of his love in some other unknown existence.

  back to top

  7

  He wondered why the alarm had not woken him and leapt to a sitting position, fearful of being late. Wincing with pain as his back complained, he found he had been asleep on the floor. Rubbing the face from his eyes, he yawned and examined his surroundings. When he felt fully awake, he got to his feet and found himself within a high spec science lab.

  “What the fuck? How did I end up here, and exactly where is here anyway?” Thinking back, his next shock was when he found almost no memories within his mind. He knew he was Jole Smoy, a twenty year old botany student from Arlenika Prime. One of his few concrete memories was boarding a mid-budget liner for the three-week trip to the jungle planet Mi’ikenway Da Diuea for his year of experience in the field. Hundreds of scientists were living and working there, cataloguing all the flora and fauna and monitoring weather patterns. Jole looked forward to spending much of his time sampling and analysing the soil, water, and air composition, mapping the geomorphology and analysing the geology of the entire planet. This would not only give him valuable experience but would help build a comprehensive database. This year would add significantly to his overall marks at the end of his eight-year course of study.

  Finding little else within his mind was such a shock to his system that at first he was unable to work out how to react or process the experience. In the absence of any real reaction, panic took over. “I can’t remember anything else. What’s happened to me? Why can’t I remember? Oh shit, what am I to do? Isn’t someone here to help me?” All these questions and many more like them echoed around the lab as he sat on a chair, hugging himself and shaking with fear. Tears coursed down his cheeks as his eyes darted around his immediate surroundings. The room swayed sickeningly as Jole hyperventilated, and when he awoke from his faint a few minutes later, dried blood caked his face. As he wiped the dried fl
akes from his skin with the back of his hand, a surge of pain shot up through his nose. Probing gingerly with his fingers, he was relieved to find the appendage swollen and painful, but unbroken.

  Consumed with fear, Jole took a deep breath and got to his feet. Through his panic, he knew his first priority was to find help. What he needed was another person to assure him everything would be all right, to look after him and explain things. Craning his neck around to take in as much of the large room as he could, he found the immediate vicinity empty of life other than himself. Not wishing to get into trouble for trespassing in someone’s laboratory, he tip toed forwards and did a circuit of the whole room. When he realised he was alone, he went over to the consoles and workstations and recognised several scientific disciplines.

  “Astrophysics, cosmology, astronautics, astrobiology, planetary sciences. I guess this is a space studies establishment.” In one wall was a door and he approached it slowly, scared of what he might find on the other side but driven by the need to find another person. Someone else meant an explanation for everything, reassurance, but most importantly, help. Alone, he would find none of those things. The touchpad opened the door with an audible swish and Jole jumped back in alarm, his arms leaping across his chest in a defensive gesture. Too scared to exit the lab, he remained rooted to the spot for almost a minute listening for sounds of anyone approaching but all was silent. His heart pounding against his ribs, he stepped through into the corridor, calling out for help as he did so.