. He pushed the "Door Close" button three times in rapid sucession,
near frantic, but with no hint of emotion on his face. Finally, the
hallway narrowed, then disappeared, and Dreamwind's knees buckled. He
slid against the smooth metal wall of the elevator car, and fought
himself to grip the reality that she had just taken from him. Had she
really touched him?
Yes, his skin was still alight where her fingers had grazed his
cheek.
There was more to it than that, he knew. Both of the souls within
her, had their reasons for that soft touch. Catherine, because it was
her way: so full of passion in life, it had now found its rebirth.
For Zarah, it was a last attempt to scare him away from finding her
truths, and fears. She must have known, despite that soul growing
within her what that touch would do.
And what of the quid pro quo? Was he prepared for that? He had
not answered her, fearful she would catch the wavering in his voice
that he was certain would be there. A slight nod, and he had left,
focusing as if he were drunk on maintaining his posture and balance.
Could he open his own soul? Could he allow the fresh wound into the
open air? Was he ready to feel the true sting of this? A better
question still, was whether or not he was ready to share that pain.
As he forced himself upright, he reinvisioned the encounter. She
was like a lioness on the hunt, crouched, stalking...Watching her was
maddening; such beauty and grace, it was mesmerizing. But the
anticipation of the pounce...the sheer knowledge that she was ready to
strike. He shivered violently, still leaning against the elevator
wall, his head pressed to the point of pain on the cool metal. He must
have remained sufficiently in control, he thought. He had not broken,
had not shown fear, at least not enough to have had Zarah attack.
But again, was he ready? He saw the madness of which Shallsee had
spoken of in her eyes. The fire there that masked her fear, the ice
that blocked her rage.... For her, yes, he was ready. He would not
bend to the intimidation, nor his own fears. If she was willing to
unchain the demons within, then he would free his own as well. He had
to.
Coming to terms with what he was about to do gave Dreamwind
strength. He stood tall and touched his cheek where she had; it was
hot. The doors slid open. DW stepped through them, and set a quick
pace for Missy's office down the corridor.
**********************************************************************
The knock came just as Miss Parker had lain the tiles to spell
the word ABYSS across a Double Word Score. Alia frowned mockingly from
across the desk, sitting crosslegged on her chair. She was winning
easily, this game. Despite the age difference between them, Parker and
the fifteen year old were evenly matched while at play. Missy stuck
her tongue out at Alia jokingly.
"What is it?" She asked, in her usual sour tone. From behind the
door, Dreamwind smiled at her facade. He opened it a crack, and peeked
his head inside.
"Tis I Miss Parker." She pushed her chair back and stood.
"My dear Dreamer, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Dreamwind
smiled and waved her back to her seat. He walked into the spacious
office, envying her as he always did, her posh lifestyle. He knelt
next to Alia's chair, putting his left hand on her shoulder, furthest
from him, in a fatherly, gentle embrace.
"Thou art winning, I hope," he said, shooting Parker a quick
wink. She gave him her best "eat dirt" look. Alia smiled, nodding
quickly, then quickly turned an overly dramatic frown back to her
eight tiles. DW glanced at them quickly and turned his attention to
Parker.
"I dost need a favor from thee," he said, his knees popping
audibly as he rose. He handed her a slip of paper with his unique
writing on it; it was brief and cryptic:
STRIP KEY- SL 8 / PASSWORD- MY LAB / THE LESS YOU KNOW...
She looked at him quizzically, but after seeing the seriousness
in his eyes, she nodded.
"I thank thee Missy. Noone canst know." Again she nodded, trying
unsucessfully to hide her nervousness from him. He mouthed the words
"trust me", and knelt once more, at Alia's side. This time, he cupped
a hand around her ear, spoke one word, and rose to leave.
When Alia placed the word XENOPHOBE against the board, using all
of her tiles, she secured her victory, with a little help from a
friend. Missy swore aloud.
**********************************************************************
It was exactly as he had left it, a good sign. The password had
been changed of course, to keep him from what had once been his second
home, but all else remained intact. The lab housed 3 beds, a bit
dusty, but intact, and still made. The system mainframes looked to be
in good shape. A few of the flourescent lights were doomed to
darkness, but that could be lived with. All in all, it looked as if it
would be a successful revisiting. He hoped so, for Zarah's sake, there
would not be much time to fix that which might have needed attention.
His mind returned once more to his visit with Zarah two days before.
Gooseflesh rose on his arms. He forced the image of her touch from his
mind, and turned on DREAMMACHINE 1. It fired to life effortlessly,
awaiting a subject name. He keyed Zarah, and pressed the enter key. A
service record of a single page came up. A single page?? Never had he
had a report so short on a subject. It seemed there was much to learn
of his little lioness...
**********************************************************************
Zarah was to meet him at nine. After their last encounter, DW had
sent this information via Micheal. He was too unsure of himself around
her, too unsteady. He knew that to see her again before the designated
time, would surely devastate the plan. And he was determined, not to
allow that to happen. There was only one more thing to do before the
hour arrived.
Quid pro quo.
Once more, he looked on the two grinning faces on his desk. So
small, so fragile. They were his children. The youngest, Devon, smiled
with a wide grin, and wide eyes. Dreamwind's little hero. The older,
his daughter Kyrstin, the spitting image of himself, minus of course,
the pink bow upon her curled blonde hair. Always the attention
grabber, she was.
What he was about to do was insanity. He knew it like he knew he
would take his next breath, and the one following. In the testing
phase of DREAMMACHINE 4, he had permitted himself to be the subject.
Even when he was in the prime of his youth, dreams intact, hopes
alive, his pure power of mind had fried the computer terminal. He
remembered waking to being shaken violently by his friend Markstaff,
the remainder of his Lab Team fighting off the flames that were
enveloping the large tower behind him. It was his first, and last
attempt to be the lab rat. The look of awe and fear on Mark's face had
been enough to deter him from ever trying again. The tape of that
dream had been destroyed; he and Markstaff alone held the secrets to
that night.
And yet, here he was. Looking at the 20 milligram tablet of
Melatonin. Dreammachine 4 had been scrapped, and all three of the
remaining 15 million dollar computer towers were equipped with various
safety measures. But would that be enough? He smiled weakly at his son
and daughter once more.
"Wish me luck," he said aloud. He pictured Zarah once more, so
frail, so scared, but fighting vehemently to hide it. What else must
be happening in her tortured mind? "For you..." He spoke the words to
the image in his mind, popping the pill onto his tongue, chewing it
for speed of effect, and washed it down with his second shot in as
many days. He could feel the fatigue set in before he'd even reached
the elevator 10 minutes later.
**********************************************************************
"Are you sure about this?" Shallsee was waiting by the entry.
Concern was etched in her brow, and set like stone in her eyes.
"No, I am not," he said groggily. "But we both know that dost not
matter." The dream enhancer in his bloodstream was making it hard to
concentrate. "You have everything I drew up for you?"
Shallsee smiled at him, and held the folder up that she carried
in her hand. Apparently, DW's power of perception was failing. He had
been up, straight through the last 38 hours, which was making the
drug's job much easier. "Lets do this. I don't have long. I still have
dream preparation..." Shallsee smiled again, even his speech was
humanesque now. He was fading quickly.
She placed the sticky backing of the three probes on his head
according to the diagram she had lain on the bed beside him. One above
his right eyebrow, another behind his right ear. The third was in the
hollow of the back of his head, centered above his spinal cord, at the
base of his skull. The Centre's Crisis Manager was now humming some
childrens nursery rhyme to himself to keep awake, what was it? Ah,
Jack and Jill. She tried to put the blood pressure cuff on him, but he
waved her off. "No time." he slurred. "The shield...you, can't stay...
turn on mainframe, and go." She lowered the shield gently, not liking
the look of that paper thin needle that sat in its center. DW settled
his head into the fitted rest beneath him, and stared directly at the
two lights above, just as he had shown hundreds of pretenders and
Centre staff years before. The needle pierced his skin, barely
noticable, and followed a path into a sinus in his skull, directly
into his brain's imagery cortex. The probe was in place. Designed to
catch and relay the electrical signals passed between synapses, it
waited for the commands from the mainframe.
"On, go...promise." She hushed him with a "yes", turned on the
system, and left the room, switching the lights as she went. Dreamwind
had programmed a five minute stall into the start mode, the previous
night. He had also wiped the system free of all unnecessary data. He
knew from experience what his dreams were capable of... Lastly, he had
turned the sensitivity level to minimal. No more fires...he had a life
in his hands, he would need his.
Despite the haze that had enveloped him, he fought for focus. He
needed to be in control this time. He...had...to...focus.
Purple, pulsing light displayed on the screen...
**********************************************************************
A wedding. Simple enough. A song, pretty, but untrue. A few tears
shed, a very few. The bride, pretty. Blonde hair pulled up and behind
her ears. Eyes mask things that the groom cannot see. The groom looks
happy, is happy. His eyes full of hopes, and dreams. The man is a
hairsbreadth away from 6 feet tall, blond hair. Eyes are steel, as
they sometimes are at heightened emotion, normally they gleam blue.
The man is Dreamwind. A younger version to be sure, but it is
unmistakably him.
A miracle. He watched his daughter being born. A snip of the
surgical scissors. She was born with the caul.
Catastrophe. Lies. Cheating. A slap across the bride's face. A
night in prison. The emptiness that remained in his eyes was clearly
visible from that point.
The golden sun. His tribute to his own stupidity. A forgiving
embrace.
Another miracle. DEVON!!!!!!!! light of his life. His reason to
be. A glimpse of an unwritten future,
FEAR. RAGE, and HATE, written in her EYES. The PAIN he felt from BEING
hit IN the BACK, UNKNOWING. a BLOW, another, ANOTHER. The MURDER he
sees THERE in that DARK gaze. Broken PICTURE, BROKEN home. ANOTHER,
ANOTHER, another. "I will KILL YOU as YOU sleep. HUNT you LIKE the DOG
YOU ARE." Bruises.
The courtroom. The lies. THE REQUEST!!?? "Your honor, I would LIKE
to ask FOR A paternity TEST for MY son DEVON" The shock in his EYES.
THE PAIN.
THE rage....BUILDS...
MY SON...?? tears. CRIED into dust... PLEASE god, ANYTHING, ANYTHING
ELSE. i cannot LOSE MY SON!
I will NOT LOSE my SON!!! and if, IF,i do...
I FEAR FOR YOU!!!!
**********************************************************************
Zarah watched the tape with tears in her eyes. She had come down
early, and seen this madness unfurl. The computer screen blinked
ominously with the word OVERLOAD at its centre. She had been unsure
even until this very moment, whether or not she was willing to do
this. She knew after the torture he was about to wake from, she owed
him at least that. As Dreamwind stirred beside her, she took his hand
out of her own, and lay it gently aside of him...
