Dream Thief Page 6

  “That’s all you remember? Nothing else? No unusual feelings lately, nothing uncomfortable? Other blackouts, perhaps?”

  Spence winced at the word “blackouts.” Did the doctor know something more? “No, there is nothing else.”

  The physician sighed heavily.

  “What are you going to do now? I mean, what will happen to me?”

  “Nothing. You’re free to go.”

  “But—you won’t… I mean, have to…”

  “Report this? No, I don’t think so. You don’t seem to me to be in any immediate danger. You are stable, in other words.”

  “Thanks,” Spence said darkly. “Then I can go?”

  “Yes, but I hope you will remember that my door is open— if you think of anything else, or want to talk about it further.”

  “I’ll remember.”

  Spence swung himself down from the high bed and followed Dr. Williams out of the room. In the small reception office he turned aside and pressed the access plate. As the partition slid open he turned to nod to the physician who still watched him closely.

  “Thank you, Dr. Williams. Goodbye.”

  “One other thing, Dr. Reston.” With a sideways glance the medic stepped close and whispered, “You don’t have any enemies … do you?”

  8

  IT WAS A STUPID, foolish thing to do! What were you thinking of? You imbeciles! Do you think this is some kind of game? We’re not dealing with peasants this time, gentlemen. Reston is a very intelligent, sensitive man. Another mistake like the last one and he will smell the rat. Oh yes, he will. Reston is smart, and he is strong-willed. We must handle him very carefully.” Hocking glared at the two quaking before him.

  “Maybe it would be better to get someone else,” suggested the younger of the two men.

  “Are you questioning my decision? Do you doubt me? Look at me, you two!” Hocking’s eyes started from his skull and veins stood out on his forehead. His lips drew back in a savage sneer.

  “It was only a suggestion,” muttered the offender. “Anyway, you said he wouldn’t remember a thing.”

  “Shut up!” Hocking’s chair rose in the air with a faint whir of its internal mechanism. It swiveled away momentarily and when he turned again to face his henchmen his features had relaxed somewhat.

  “Do either of you have any idea how close we are to our goal? We are on the very threshold of a new epoch in human history. Think of it, gentlemen! The wealth of the universe will soon be ours—and that is only the beginning. Our power will be limitless. All mankind will bow before us. We’ll be gods, gentlemen. We will control the minds of the entire human race.” Hocking’s voice was a whisper. His eyes shone like hard, black beads as the chair inched closer.

  A sudden flash arced across the gap from Hocking’s chair to his assistants and a tremendous cracking sound filled the room. Hocking opened his mouth and laughed as his helpers lay writhing on the floor beneath him. “Just a taste of the agony awaiting those who disappoint me. Do not disappoint me again, gentlemen.

  “Now, then. Pick yourselves up off the floor and listen to me. We have work to do.”

  HE HAD JUST REACHED the main access tube and was still pondering Dr. Williams’s question about possible enemies when he heard a voice behind him.

  “They let you go, Spence?”

  He turned to see Ari hurrying up behind him. “It was nothing.”

  “It must have been something—you’re blushing, Dr. Reston.”

  He felt the crimson flush rise to his cheeks. “How did you find out about it?” He tried to sound unconcerned.

  “The director gets a list of all sick bay admissions. I saw your name on the list. I wanted to see how you were.”

  “You came to see me?”

  “Yes, but they said you had already been dismissed. I must have missed you by only a few seconds. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine. Really. Just a little tired. If you’ll excuse me…” He turned to leave, but Ari fell into step beside him, linking her arm in his. Spence felt his skin tingle under her touch.

  “I’m on my way to my quarters. I’ll walk with you.” She smiled her suimy smile at him. “You don’t mind, do you. Spencer?”

  “No, not at all.” They walked off together arm in arm.

  Spence imagined that everyone they passed stopped to gawk at them. He tried to shrug off the feeling that this was anything but an innocent promenade, a guy walking a girl to her door. But to his shrunken sense of social etiquette, the occasion loomed much larger.

  They made their way along the tube to a main axial and then toward the AdSec cluster where Ari and her father had their quarters. She kept up a running monologue the whole way, relieving Spence of the obligation to provide anything more than a perfunctory nod or grunt.

  He paid little attention to what she said, wondering instead how he might gracefully excuse himself and make his getaway. He told himself he had more important things to do than escort aggressive young women around the space station. He wanted to free himself to think about what was happening to him.

  “Well, here we are,” said Ari. They stood before a buff-colored panel. “Would you like to come in? I’ll make some tea.”

  “Tea? Well, I don’t think…”

  “Please, do. I’d like it very much if you would.” She had already punched her access code into the digits of the glowing plate and the panel slid open. She kept her hold on his arm and tugged him gently inside.

  He stepped hesitantly through the portal and looked around. The Zandersons’ quarters were quite plush; much more luxurious than his own Spartan accommodations.

  “It’s shocking, I know. But it can’t be helped, I’m afraid.” She followed his gaze around the large, spacious rooms. “The director does live well—too well, perhaps.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said Spence. “It’s a tough job. He needs a place like this to unwind. You can’t do that in a cubbyhole.”

  “Still, I feel guilty sometimes. Look at this—carpet on the floors yet! It must have cost a fortune to lug that up here. And leather furniture!”

  “I like it. It’s beautiful.”

  “Sure, it’s beautiful. Go ahead and take a seat. I won’t be a minute.”

  Spence settled himself into the soft leather cushions at one end of a long handsome couch. He rubbed his hand absently over the dark, polished grain of the leather and wondered how long it had been since he had felt anything so fine, so natural.

  Next to him on a low teak table sat a star globe with an Earth the size of a grapefruit surrounded by a transparent shell upon which were painted the major stars of the galaxy. It was an exquisite antique.

  Next to the globe was a picture in a walnut frame. A striking, dark-haired woman smiled out from the picture and Spence realized at once where Ari had come by her good looks. But there was an unsettling quality about the picture. The woman’s eyes were not focused on the camera. They held a distant, aloof look— almost a vacant stare. Though the woman smiled warmly, her smile did not light up those cold, empty eyes. It was as if two separate pictures had been somehow overlapped. Two very different moods had been captured in that single photographic moment, and the effect was chilling.

  Ari returned and saw him studying the picture. She placed the tray of tea things on the table, and began to pour.

  “Your mother?” he asked, still looking at the photograph.

  “Yes,” said Ari. She did not look up.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever met her. Is she here?”

  “No, she’s not—”

  “Prefers the Earth beneath her feet, is that it?”

  “Mother…” Ari started, and then hesitated. She glanced at Spence and then looked away. “Mother isn’t with us anymore.”

  “I’m sorry … I didn’t know.” He raised his mug to his lips and sipped. “Ow!”

  “Oh, careful! It’s hot. I should have warned you. Did you burn yourself?”

  “I’ll live.”

 
An uneasy silence settled over the room. Spence shifted nervously in his seat.

  “I wanted to come up here in the worst way,” said Ari after a while. “I thought it would be an adventure.”

  “Disappointed?”

  “A little.”

  “I know what you mean—it’s like an enormous office building, only you can never go outside.”

  “You’re right. If not for the garden, I don’t know what I’d do. Well, I’d go berserk; I know I would.”

  “You could leave any time you wanted, couldn’t you? Why do you stay?”

  “Daddy. He needs me. Besides, this being my first jump, I could never let it be said that the director’s daughter couldn’t even endure one tour of duty.”

  “You’ll get used to it. Everyone does.”

  “Not everyone. I’ve already seen several who haven’t. It’s a frightening thing.”

  Spence found the conversation had wandered too close to a topic he did not wish to explore. He changed the subject. “Good tea.”

  “Thank you.” She bent her head and sipped from her steaming mug. He watched the delicate curve of her neck and the way the light reflecting off the table filled the hollow of her throat. Her blond curls swung down as she drank and she tossed them back with an easy, practiced flip. Their eyes met. Spence looked away.

  “I should be going. I have to get back to work. I sat around in sick bay a little longer than I should have, I think.”

  “Very well, but you must promise to come again. Soon.”

  “I will.” He rose to his feet and headed for the door.

  Ari followed him and said as the panel slid open, “Spence, I almost forgot. We’re having a function here tomorrow evening— I mean, second shift. You’re invited.”

  “I am? Since when?”

  “Since right now. I’m inviting you. It’s just a few of the faculty and research people. Daddy thinks it’s a good idea for the two groups to mix. You’ll fit right in.”

  “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.” He stepped through the portal.

  “Please come. I’ll expect you—” The sliding panel cut her short and Spence headed back to the lab.

  He thrust his hands deep into the side pockets of his jumpsuit and ambled along with his head down. Soon he was lost in thought over his inexplicable behavior in the cargo bay. Assuming that the physician was right—and there was no reason to doubt him—what had he been doing down there? Why couldn’t he remember?

  I’m cracking up. I am losing my mind.

  9

  “ARE YOU RELAXED, SPENCER?”

  “Yes.”

  “I am going to give you a new suggestion. Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want you to think about the color blue. Do you understand? Think of all the things that are blue and that suggest the color blue to you. The color blue, Spencer. Blue.”

  THE WIND HAD RISEN out of the east and Spence turned his face into it. It blew cold and the sky above glowered down in a fierce blue-black rage. Close by he heard the chop of water as waves dashed themselves against rocks in the shallows. He turned to the sound and saw the ocean stretching out to the horizon, blue under the dark blue clouds.

  He looked into the clear blue water and saw small silver-blue fish darting by in schools, speeding like tiny rockets away into deeper space. Suddenly Spence was with them. He felt himself sinking into the water as around him the fish flashed through the blue half-light of their frigid world. He could see their silver sides zigzagging off into the murky distance. He could see their large, round eyes staring at him as they fled.

  Down and down he sank. Slowly—like a coin spinning over and over to rest finally upon the silt at the ocean’s bottom. He felt the ocean floor rise up beneath his feet, and as he touched down he realized he was not in the water at all. He raised his eyes and saw that he had dropped into an enormous cavern whose high vaulted roof arched away into blue shadows.

  Curiously formed projections sprouted from the floor and dangled from the ceiling. These were translucent and faintly luminous, glowing with a cool greenish-blue inner light. He walked a few hesitant steps among them as among the timbers of a silent forest, his footsteps echoing back to him from the dark depths of the cave.

  He became aware of another sound which seemed to come humming up from beneath the floor, through his feet and into his bones, a grinding sound which grew louder as he descended deeper into the tunnel.

  Spence walked among the glowing stalagmites following the sound. Soon he heard a rhythmic thrumming as if the Earth were churning, grinding the great stone roots of the mountains to dust. The sound grew until it filled the cavern; he walked on as if drawn to its source. His stomach vibrated with the rumble and he smelled a sharp, bitter scent in the dank air of the cave.

  Far ahead he saw a pulsing blue light illuminating a far wall of the cave. He felt something gritty on his lips. He raised a hand to his face and saw that it was covered with a fine blue powder. The grit fell down upon him in a gentle rain, drifting like fine snow, covering his clothing and hair.

  Then he was standing on the brink of a vast chasm which split the cavern floor. The rumble had grown to thunder, deafening him as raking light flashed blue lightning around him. The gritty powder rose like smoke from a pit as he gazed into the chasm.

  Something was moving in the churning depths of the hole— as if some enormous beast were thrashing out its life in agony. In the darkness he made out a roiling black mass heaving and subsiding, groaning and shuddering amidst the roar.

  Now jagged flashes of blue lightning tore through the darkness, illuminating the pit. Clinging to the rocks he lowered himself to peer over the edge deep into the chaos below. In the piercing glare of the lightning bolts he saw strange shapes tumbling and tumbling, grinding against one another, crushing each other and sending up an endless cloud of powdery blue grit like a velvet mist.

  Another flash peeled away the darkness and he saw clearly into the tumbling mass below. Some of the shapes were elongated and curved, others round and bulky as boulders, still others long and thin. In that instant he realized what it was that filled the huge stone caldron: bones. The gigantic bones of prehistoric monsters whirled below him in perpetual motion—a disjointed danse macabre.

  In that instant of recognition he felt his grip on the rocks give way and he fell. He twisted in the air and his hands clawed for a scrabbling hold on the smooth rock face, but it was too late. He plunged screaming into the grinding, churning dance of the bones.

  SPENCE CAME TO HIMSELF sitting upright on the couch. The trailing echo of his scream still rang in the darkened chamber like a fading memory. But the dream had vanished like a vapor. It was gone and he could remember nothing but the terror that had awakened him.

  Presently the lights began to come up faintly. He guessed that Tickler stood behind the glass and heard the scream.

  “Tickler,” he called.

  “Yes, sir?” His assistant’s voice grated metallically through the overhead speakers.

  “Did I scream just now?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Did you hear anything unusual—a scream, a yell? Anything like that?”

  “When, Dr. Reston?”

  “Just now. When I woke up.”

  “No, sir. The alarm went off in the control booth, so I turned on the lights. That is the procedure.”

  “You’re quite right. Thank you.” His heart was still beating rapidly. He could feel the tension in his shoulders and neck. His hands still clutched the sides of the cav couch in a death grip. He felt certain the scream had been real, that it was not merely part of his dream.

  But why would Tickler lie about a thing like that? Perhaps he had not been in the booth when Spence screamed, or perhaps he was covering up the fact that he had himself dozed off at his post. Possibly. But it was not like Tickler.

  Spence rose and stretched and made his way into the control room. Tickler was just winding the scan onto a spool. Spenc
e watched him finish and place a seal on the loose end.

  “Will that be all for now?” Tickler asked.

  “Yes; you may go. I won’t be needing anything further this shift, but tell Kurt when he comes in that I’d like the log posted and I’d like to see the averages for the last three sessions.”

  “The averages?”

  “Yes. Just as soon as he gets them finished.”

  “But we have never—”

  “Don’t argue. Tickler. Please, just do as I say. I know it’s a little extra work. But that’s what we have an assistant for, isn’t it?”

  “Very well, I’ll tell him.”

  Tickler turned brusquely and went out. I wonder what’s eating him this time? With Tickler it was always something.

  Spence brushed the thought from his mind and left the control booth, crossed the lab, and entered his quarters. Despite the night’s sleep he did not feel at all rested. He felt as though he had run several miles or climbed a sheer rock cliff. His muscles were tense and knotty and he could smell that he had sweated through his underclothes.

  He thought to sanitize and change, but then had a better idea: the exerdome. Why not? He could use the exercise. Maybe he would find a threesome who needed a fourth for a game of pidg.

  As he donned his silvered mylar exersuit it occurred to him that perhaps his problems stemmed from stress and overwork. He had exercised little since coming to Gotham; except for his occasional rambles through the garden and a swim now and then, he had indulged in no physically strenuous activity. A fast game of pidg or a few laps around the dome would loosen him up and relax him.

  He took a main axial to the low-grav central tower of the city. Nearly weightless, he sprang four meters from the corridor to the lift and stepped onto a disc, pulling up the handgrips as it engaged the belt. Up he rose to the dome. He could hear laughter and shouts pinging down the metal tube from above. It reminded him of going swimming as a boy and hearing the sounds of happy frolic ringing from the pool a long way off.

  When the lift gate opened he stepped off onto the spongy surface of the dome—or rather bounced off with the first step, for he was now completely weightless. He spun awkwardly for a moment before remembering to pull in his arms and legs to regain control. He brought his knees up to his chest and, when he floated near enough to the curved surface once again, thrust his legs down. He arrowed off the side of the dome and flew straightway toward the center. High above him a net stretched across the observation portion of the dome to keep errant human missiles from colliding with the tempered glass.