Chapter 67
Location Unknown
Micah tapped along the metal walls… listening to the hollow sound as it echoed and rumbled. Glancing at the others, he smiled to see Madrigal with both the smaller boys' heads in her lap. They were still recovering from the drugs.
Madrigal gave him a weak smile as both her hands stroked the dark hair of her two young charges. "Any ideas?" she asked.
Micah stood back, placing his hands on his hips. "A ship I think. We may be in a small cargo hold of some sort."
"Where are they taking us?"
Micah shook his head as he flung himself onto the rags strewn on the floor of their cell. He drew his legs up before him and tried to think what Amanda would have done in this situation.
"You are all small… but you can be clever. Kenny has lasted over eight hundred years. Valeraine the same. You can too… but you must be clever."
"We have to seem to be cooperative," Micah said at last. "If we are… we might get a chance at freedom. Can you swim?" He grinned at Madrigal. "I mean… if we get to the deck for some reason… we could make a run for it. After all… we'd only drown." When Madrigal chuckled, Micah grinned.
Chou rubbed his head and sat up… groaned and lay back down.
"Do you think they gave all of us the same dose?" Madrigal asked as she rubbed Chou's back.
"Likely. They probably cut it some from whatever they give adults. That's why we woke first."
Denis moaned and shifted.
"They're coming around." Micah said, "That means we should have company soon." Madrigal nodded. Micah noticed a frightened look in her eyes. "Madrigal!" he said. "Concentrate! We won't let them hurt you… but we have to work together."
A clang at the steel door let them know someone was outside. The wheel in the door turned and two men… one with a basket of food… the other with a machete entered.
"They are awake… at least two of them are," the man with the food said. He set the basket on the floor and kicked it over to them. The other man glared and flexed the machete.
Micah shook his head slightly. Now was not the time.
The two men backed up and shut the door. The children could hear it clang as it was locked.
Micah crossed to the basket and pulled out a sandwich… giving it a sniff. "Smells all right… but we should be careful. Who wants to eat first?"
Chou raised his hand. "I will. I still feel sick. It can only kill me."
Micah smirked as he tossed him the sandwich, then rummaged though the basket for something to drink. There was one large bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap and sniffed. Grimacing he replaced the cap. "It's in the water… something bitter."
Chou nodded as he bit into the sandwich and chewed. "Next time it will be in the food."
Micah sat back against the wall next to Madrigal. "Yeah. I hate dying of thirst. Very uncomfortable."
"What worries me," the girl added, "is what they will do to us while we are dead." She shuddered. Micah put an arm about her shoulders.
"Thing is, we may look like children… but we aren't. We need to use that… remember." The boy smiled as the others nodded. They weren't children… they were just very small.
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Within the Dream
Kenny was at the bottom of a well. He knew it was a well because he could feel the damp stones all about him. They were slippery and mossy. He'd tried numerous times to climb them… without success. Above… in the small circle of blue sky… were odd cotton candy clouds that raced by as if blown before a hurricane.
He was alone. And there was no way out. If he were taller, bigger, stronger, he could get out… Kenny was certain of it. All he needed to be was older, stronger, more skilled. But he was clever. Kenny stood in the center of the well and gazed skyward… also letting his eyes trail up and down the walls… seeking a handhold… a foothold… one he could leap to and hold to.
The buzz of another came closer and closer.
Kenny snarled… turning and turning… trying to find the other… but he was alone in the well. His feet splashed in the shallow water and he was wet and cold and tired… yet he could not sit… and he could not sleep.
"I feel you!" he screamed. "Where are you?"
His voice echoed back from the stone. Once more he ran his hands along the stones and sought a way to climb up… there had to be a way… All he had to do was figure it out.
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Greg Powers felt the smooth steel of the room's walls. They were cold… like an operating room. A single light hung from a ceiling too far away to see. Beneath the light was an operating table… and table covered by a sterile cloth. He flung back the cloth and stared. Greg picked up the implements of his trade… scalpels… bone saws… probes… forceps… retractors. Turning them over again and again… he handled them as if holding them for the first time.
The instruments felt oddly strange in his hands… bigger… colder. He looked down at the boy now strapped to the table. Had he been there before? The boy struggled in the restraints… blonde hair… "One of us!" Greg said. He lifted the bone saw and lay it thoughtfully across the boy's neck.
Such a huge sharp instrument for so tiny a neck. All he had to do was apply pressure.
The boy's eyes opened and stared blankly up. The mouth moved and an old voice rumbled out. "I feel you! Where are you?"
"I'm here," Greg murmured. "I'm here… but where is here?" He stepped back away from the operating table and tried to peer into the observation glass. Ghostly figures held out hands… thumbs down. Ghosts with no faces.
Greg stared at the bone saw in his hand and then back at the sacrificial lamb. It would be so easy. Why did he hesitate?
They were all killers. It was kill or be killed. This child was no different. All Greg had to do was take the saw and slice down.
He giggled. "The operation was a success… but the patient died."
He returned to stand over the boy. "Do you have a name?" he asked.
The boy stared about blankly and said nothing… as if he didn't see Greg at all… but he felt him.
Greg leaned over him and whispered, "You know I'm here… don't you. And you cannot find me." Once again he lay the bone saw on the boy's neck and sighed. Such a big saw… such a scrawny little neck.
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Watcher Compound
"Well… What is he waiting for?" Rawlins stared at the monitor. "All he has to do is think he's killing him for it to be real for him within the dream… why does he hesitate."
"I don't know," Wilderman said truthfully. "You told me these two were antagonistic… and would likely fight… but I don't see it. They may or may not recognize one another. Or maybe they simply do not wish to kill."
"Damnit!" snarled Rawlins. "This is getting monotonous. Do something."
"What do you expect me to do?" Wilderman shrugged. "I cannot force their actions… I cannot program them… not yet. All I can do is present a scenario."
"Bah!" Rawlins tossed a hand in the air and stormed out.
Claire Romney reached to dial down the program.
"Wait!" Wilderman crossed to the medicine cabinet and filled a syringe with a liquid. Crossing to number 23 he inserted the needle into the IV and pushed the doseage. Wilderman smiled and stepped back to observe the monitor. "Insert program Gamma 7."
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Within the Dream
The walls of the well vanished and Kenny was in a darkened room. A single sword was in a stone and a white light shone on it.
The boyman strode forward to pull the sword from the stone. It was held tightly. He put both hands on the sword and pulled once more. Again he failed. Climbing onto the stone… Kenny leveraged himself to pull and straighten with all his strength. The sword was his by rights! He was the cleverest! He was her favorite! He was the one! The sword came free in his hands.
Kenny could feel the other all about him… and then he saw him… sitting on the floor with his back to him. Such a fool… Kenny grinned. "There can be only one!" he snarled and swung with all his might.
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Greg shook his head and rubbed a hand along the boy's innocent face. "I will not kill today!" he said softly. "Not today." But the blade remained on the boy's neck… slowly Greg applied pressure. "Maybe I will kill you… today."
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Watcher Compound
Both subjects leaped within the restraints… pulling against them and writhing. The needles of their printouts went crazy. For a moment… if they had been on the same printout… they were identical. Then one flatlined and the other returned to what passed for normal.
"Interesting," said Wildrman stroking his chin. "Not exactly what I would have expected."
"No quickening released," Claire commented.
"Yes, well no heads were actually taken. Technically they are both still alive."
"But one has no brain activity while the other's is…"
"I know… the other's is… different… interesting." Wilderman chuckled. "We must try this one again. Select another set of subjects. We need to see if this happens the next time."
"Yes doctor," one of the assistants said and left.
Claire shook her head. "Shall I continue to monitor?"
"Yes… yes… yes!" Wilderman yelled. "We must have all the data we can gather. This may be the breakthrough I needed."
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Within the Dream
He was taller. He was older. He was stronger. He laughed. Easily he could reach the stones… easily climb out. He was the one! Dropping the unneeded bonesaw into the water… he began to climb… First… up on the operating table… then he'd shimmy along the cord of the light. By then… he'd be high enough. This would not take long… not long at all. He glanced at the observers in the gallery… their hands pointed up. He was the one!