"The sun goes down; I feel the light betray me."
Simon walks, his footsteps echoing off cold brick walls and unfeeling concrete. The rain falls reluctantly, forming slow puddles in the gutter.
He looks up, almost as if searching the leaden sky for answers.
Where has Kenneth gone? It's been weeks since his disappearance, and the police have finally given up on Simon having any information on where Ken might be. He's spoken to his friend's mother, but there was nothing more to give than the same empty comfort he'd been offered by his old friends.
As for his own family, Simon tries to avoid going home. There is nothing there for him. His father is overly cheerful these days, trying to distract him with movies, presents, trips away for the weekend. His mother however, understands the true reason for Simon's silence, and her mute acceptance is more than he can take.
And even the sky has nothing to tell him. Or perhaps it is simply keeping secrets from him. Simon looks down, letting his wet hair drip water along his neck and under his collar. His overcoat collar. Ken had always smiled when Simon wore this jacket, joking about how it actually gave him shoulders.
Ken. Ken's laugh, his infectious grin. The look he'd get when he was writing, the way he'd tilt his head and frown just a little in concentration.
Simon halts, finding shelter in the park's lonely gazebo. He sinks to the tiled floor, his hands falling to his lap and his back curving as if under strain. Not all the water that runs down his skin is without salt.
~~~
Raven pauses. Behind him, he hears Nuala sigh in exasperation.
"If you even consider having second thoughts now – "
"No, it's alright," he cuts her off, adjusting the straps of his pack as an excuse.
"You sure?"
"I'm fine." To prove it, he continues walking up the steep path of the tunnel. Ahead of him is Luther, right behind Skat. Bluey is at the rear behind Nuala. Sparrow and Impala are back on the ship.
Raven keeps his eyes on his feet, letting his mind take a detour. What had stopped him short like that?
(Simon)
What about him? He was back in the dream.
(you're going back there now. you might even see him again)
Where is he?
(rain . . . tiles . . . unfeeling concrete and long dead timbers . . . )
"Raven."
He starts, looking up ahead of him. Luther is holding out a hand, offering help to climb up through a hole in the upper edge of the pipe. He blinks, then carefully responds.
Now is not the time to dream. That time will come soon enough. When they reach the surface. When they find an empty pod.
Skat takes Raven's other hand, hauling him up into the higher tunnel. When Luther reaches down to help up Nuala, Skat pulls Raven aside.
"We can only let one person go into the plant with you. I would, but I can't."
"Can't?"
"I'm the captain. If anything should happen and we can't return from the plant, what would happen to the ship? I'm loath to agree but Bluey always says a crew can't lose a captain."
"Oh," he tries to look like he's considered the dangers before asking for this mission. It actually never occurred to him that he may not return to Zion alive. "So who will come with me?"
"Nuala has volunteered."
Nuala. Of course.
"It's up to you at the end. Luther my be more useful when it comes to strength, but Nuala has been to the plant before, and – "
"She got me out of there alive once, she can do it again I'm sure."
Skat smiles thinly. "You try and keep your arse and hers out of trouble alright? She's never been this stupid for anyone before and I'm not sure why she is now."
The sudden rebuke throws Raven off track. Still half dreaming, his eyes slip past the captain to the young girl behind him, her pale hair and skin blurred in the half dark.
"Raven?"
"Yes sir. I'll be as careful as I can afford to be."
~~~
It's cold up on the surface. A dull wind blows, chilling them in slow shivers. Raven tugs the scarf around his neck a little tighter. Nuala touches his arm, directing his attention upwards.
The plant looms above them. It's a sight quite beyond Raven's description. The only word that comes to his mind is, immense.
"Christ," he whispers, the utterance more a plea than a curse.
"Something like that," Nuala forces a smile. "If we just keep walking, we can get in close to the bottom of a tower. The pods must go all the way down to the ground."
Raven nods, not pausing in his stride. He knows, from what Impala has told him, that Nuala climbed to find him in the plant. But in his state, still weak, he would not be able to climb as she had.
So their only hope is that there is an empty pod close enough to the ground.
~~~
"One of these days, you know, you're going to run out of dumb luck."
He throws her a grin, stifling his fear. "In the meantime Nuala, let's just be grateful."
Three metres above them, the lowest level of pods sprout from the tower wall. A mesh of cables, metal and wire tear up the ground like tree roots, reaching out from the tower's base in a wide circle. Directly up, Raven can see the dim light shining through an as yet empty pod.
Nuala laces her hands into a stirrup and holds it under his foot, hefting him up to reach a loop of black. He swears at the warmth of it.
"I thought it would be cold."
"It's not," her words are short. She's as scared as he is. "Keep moving."
Muscles almost vibrate under the strain as Raven hauls his slight weight up, finding hand and footholds in the lacework of the tower. The pulsing heat of it makes him want to retch.
(remember Simon. remember why you're doing this)
His fingers clench on the edge of the pod. Metal and membrane, he can't begin to think what this is made from. He tries to find a foothold, but slips, and finds himself hanging over nothing, legs kicking weakly.
"Hold still Raven, let me catch your foot."
Nuala is there, her hands under his boots, guiding them to a place to stand. With a push, he drags himself into the pod, the scarf tangling around his neck. His breathing harsh, Raven gets to his knees and reaches to help Nuala over the edge.
"There has to be an easier way to do this," she sighs, curling beside him in the oddly shaped space.
"Like what?" his voice shakes like his hands.
"I don't know. Maybe like they used to tap phone lines."
"Zion doesn't have phones."
"We do so. But I meant like in the really old movies. When someone did something wrong, and they were watched by the, what were they called . . . ?"
"CIA?"
"Or something."
"You think you could hack the powerplant's line?"
"Maybe. We don't even know how they connect you to whatever you dream, so maybe it's impossible. But that's why we're here to find out."
She reaches past him, fingers searching around the hole in the back of the pod, looking for cables. He shuffles out of her way, trying to stop his shivering.
"Here," her voice is low. Raven looks down at the object in her hand, a long spike like the metal tongue of some alloy black snake. He runs a hand along it, shuddering involuntarily at the chill of it. Unlike the warm fog around them, this is icy cold.
"Slide it into my head, and screw it in clockwise."
She swallows. He knows his voice has changed. But he knows what has to be done now. At the sight of this, memories that have not yet happened flood through his head, and he knows how it will feel. How it has to work.
"Turn around," she says, and he does so, lying back a little, propped up by his pack and her arm. She breathes in, and carefully inserts the . . . jack.
There's a hum. Static. Data flows like lifeblood a little beyond his reach. Why? He's listing to the real, that's why. He needs to give in, to give up to the lies buzzing through the cold spike in his head. Raven turns his eyes to Nuala, looking up at her. She holds him carefully, scared beyond reason. Above her, there's a haze of red, mind after mind enslaved and dreaming. To wake them he must first return among them.
He closes his eyes, reaching for a place, an anchor in the maelstrom of information.
(Simon)
Where? Where can I find him?
(rain . . . grass . . . the park, the gazebo where you knew him as a child)
Raven gives in to it, letting the white noise wash over him like ocean waves, like sheets of rain, like long grass rippled by the wind in a storm.
A boy huddles in the relative dry of the gazebo, hunched and shivering in his black coat. Simon's favourite overcoat.
Raven stands there, in the rain, letting the water slick through his hair and down his neck. He's in his school uniform, wearing what he was when he'd left. The white polyester clings to his skin.
He inhales. Wet concrete and earth. He's missed this place.
"Simon."
A hitch in breathing, a pause, a slow turn of the head. The boy looks up, blue eyes wide.
" . . . Ken?"
Raven blinks. He'd forgotten that name.
Then Simon is up and running and throwing arms around him, crying on his shoulder.
"Where have you been?"
"Outside this place."
"What do you mean?" the shorter boy pulls back, wiping hair out of his eyes. "What do you mean outside?"
"Simon," Raven smiles. "Remember how I asked if you ever thought this world isn't real? Well, I know now. It's not. There's more."
"More?"
"You're dreaming. This whole place, the city and everything beyond it, is nothing more than an illusion."
"Ken, what are you talking about?"
"The real. Back in the sick bay, I fell asleep, and I woke up outside. I woke up."
Simon frowns, reaching to catch Raven's hand. "But you're here now, that's all that's important, right?"
"No," Raven shakes his head. Above the clouds, thunder rolls. "It's a world out there, with people and families and everything. And they're at war. The machines are holding us, this place, in a dream, keeping you all under control. It's a power plant Simon, where they keep the bodies."
"Ken, you're talking nonsense. You ran away for a while, right? To get a break. It was school, it was the exams, the stress got to you, that's all."
Raven pulled Simon close again, one hand in his and the other closed on his shoulder.
"What do I have to do to make you believe me?"
"I believe you – "
"No. you don't."
"Ken, you just up and left! The police were at school, everyone was chasing me to find out where you'd gone, but I didn't know, no one knew, no one . . . knew . . . "
The boy falls against Raven's shoulder, hiding his face as he cries.
"Simon . . . " Raven holds his friend up, arms wrapped carefully. "Simon, tell me, what do you dream?"
Breath hitches. The rain continues to fall, persistent. The thunder is a little louder, growling as if able to sense the ripples in its world.
"I dream . . . "
"You dream of flight."
Simon raises his head, opening his eyes slowly.
"How do you know?"
"I know. I can read you here."
"What?"
Raven lifts a hand, tapping Simon under the chin. "I told you already. This isn't real. It's a dream, and in dreams you can do whatever you want."
~~~
Nuala tenses as Raven's head moves, tilting back. His lips part, and his hands, wrapped in rags against the cold, grasp at the air.
Yet there's no fear in the motion, no panic. He's dreaming pleasant things.
She settles him against her again, brushing cold fingers across his cheek.
~~~
The rain is cold, turning icy against their skin with the movement of air. Simon clenches white polyester in his hands, clinging to Raven as tightly as Raven holds him.
"How on earth?"
Raven laughs, letting his head fall back and his hair blow away from his face as they rush up, away from the grass and the trees and the old lonely gazebo in the park.
"How is this possible?" Simon's voice is no longer frightened, but fast and excited. "This can't be real Ken!"
"Of course it isn't," Raven dares a twirl, spinning like he's dancing in the air. "It's all a dream Simon, all a dream."
"So how do I wake up?"
Raven slows, hovering as the rain drips from the soles of their shoes, and curls the ends of Simon's hair.
"I'm not so sure how. I dreamed awake. Maybe if I do it again I can bring you with me."
Simon, feeling gravity creeping at the hem of his drenched coat, rests his feet on the top of Raven's.
"What other way is there? Just try it."
"Alright," they descend, slowly, Raven carefully settling them in the grass. "Don't let go of me, okay? When I go I'll try hold you, but I don't know if I can."
"If it doesn't work, you'll come back, right?"
Raven smiles. "Maybe not right away, but I will."
"Alright then. Go for it."
Raven bows his head, resting it on the other boy's shoulder. His closes his eyes, feeling water slide over the lids, and breathes in.
The static is in his head again. The tumult of information surging through him, a million lies told with every beat of this heart which isn't there.
What's he looking for? Truth.
Nuala.
But instead of waking up in her arms, red floods into Raven's vision. The rain is gone, the park is gone, the thunder has slowed to a thick, rhythmic pulse. Heartbeat. Simon's heart.
He pulls away, opening his eyes and letting go of shoulders that have faded to nothing.
"Raven, are you alright?"
"Simon."
"What?"
"Simon's awake, but I don't know where he is."
She helps him sit up, keeping hold of his arms. "Tell me what we need to do."
"Radio the ship, tell them to get to the sewer."
"Where we came out in the water?"
"Yes."
One hand goes for the radio at her belt, thumbing a switch. Raven hunches over, clutching his hands to his head.
"Sparrow. Follow the sewer line up to a dead end, there's someone in the water you need to pick up. No, don't wait for us to get back, you have to get to – dammit Sparrow, I don't care!" she thumbs the radio off, bowing her head against Raven's. "They won't listen."
"Here," he forces stiff limbs to move, fumbling at the mouth of the pod for something. "Tell them they have to get to the sewer, 'cause we'll be there as well."
She does so, yelling at Impala through the tinny speaker. Before either of their crew have a chance to respond, Raven hits a catch in the wall and the door opens and they're slipping, gaining speed as they join the waste water, slamming against the walls of the tunnel as they slide and then they're falling, packs and radio and all, and again Nuala pulls Raven to the edge of the water.
"Where's Simon?"
Raven doesn't answer, he's already dropped his pack and outer gear and is jumping back in, and remembering now how one arm reaches before another, how to kick and how to stay up in the deep. He grasps, loses grip, and has to duck under the surface and almost dive to catch a pale hand.
~~~
When the ship rumbles up the tunnel, slow and careful, Nuala and Raven are on the bank, sorting out the less soaked items of clothing and bundling up Simon.
"Who's this?" Skat asks, folding his arms and looking down.
"Simon."
"And what exactly, do you think you've achieved by getting us another scrawny kid for the ship?"
Nuala's mouth falls open, stunned, but Raven only wraps an arm around narrow shoulders and smiles up at the captain.
"I'll tell you what I'm achieving here. I'm winning you the bloody war."