Plain of Sorrows

Author: Milady Dragon

Disclaimer: Not mine

Author's notes: Thanks again for reading. Enjoy!I've been writing and posting so fast, I just want to apologize in advance for not being able to post anything again til Friday. It might change, but please don't expect it...


Chapter Thirty-Five

" – well, I'm sick of it and it needs to stop."

Morgan came to a halt at the sound of Danziger's voice. It came from somewhere around the side of the Trans Rover; he thought that was strange, since the last time he'd seen the man, he'd been in the Dune Rail with Devon, and they'd been in the middle of what had appeared to be an argument. Not that that was odd; those two really liked to fight, and the joke around camp was that they were more like a married couple than Morgan and Bess were.

It was sort of insulting, in a way.

Thoughtless, my friend, his voice replied. Just as so many other things they have done to you.

Morgan rolled his eyes, and he didn't care of the voice knew how irritated he was. It didn't have anything to do with thoughtlessness; it was the old marriage stereotypes, and it was insulting to those who didn't follow along.

The voice didn't say anything.

Morgan thought that was a really good thing.

"Look, there's really nothing we can do about it," came Devon's attempt to calm Danziger down.

"Sure there is! We can blow the damned ship to hell and gone!"

Ship? What ship?

The voice didn't answer, but Morgan could sense its curiosity.

"The only thing that ship is good for is its link between the real world and the dreamplane," Danziger continued. "Blowing it up will just close the ghosts off from the real world."

Now the voice was feeling concerned.

Morgan filed that away, for future reference.

"And what good would that so?"

"It'd make me feel better! And it'll mean no one else will be bothered, ever again."

"We'll be away from this place in a couple of days. Then we can put all this behind us and move on."

"You weren't the one they messed with, Adair."

"I know that, John. But Julia says the changes are wearing off. You'll be fine by the time we make the edge of the plane. Besides, the ghosts didn't know what they were doing. Destroying their home isn't the answer."

This ship was the ghosts' home? Morgan was interested despite himself. Maybe that was where Danziger had disappeared to…

And the voice was still silent.

Morgan put it together, deep down, and came up with the notion that this ship must also be where the voice was from, as well. An overwhelming urge to see it struck him.

He wondered if the voice had made him feel that way, or if it was his own curiosity coming out. He'd been curious, before coming to this planet. Then it had been scared out of him.

Maybe having a bit of a boom would be a good thing…

No, the voice snapped, strident with fear. This must not happen!

Why not? It's just a moldy old spaceship, right?

There was something the voice wasn't saying. A piece of knowledge it had, that Morgan wasn't privy to. What was it about that ship that bothered the voice?

It was my home, my command. It is…special to me.

Bullshit, Morgan wanted to shout. This was such a lie, even in his diminished capacity – and he knew his mental faculties were mostly under another's control – he actually opened his mouth to call out to Danziger, to blow the thing the fuck off this planet…get rid of the ghosts, once and for all!

But the voice wouldn't let him.

Bess noticed the movement. She was walking beside him, in her place at his side. She looked up at him with such a look of sadness… and Morgan realized that nothing he'd said or done had fooled her. Bess knew, or at least she knew something had been done to him, and despite his lies to her she was there to support him.

God, he loved her.

What had he done to deserve her?

No, she doesn't deserve you. The voice was trying to convince him, but it was too late. Morgan knew his worth to it, as surely as he knew his worth to the group.

He opened his mouth again, but the voice twisted itself into his thoughts, taking over. Only that place where his most private thoughts had remained hidden was still his own, and in that place he screamed.

"Morgan?" Bess's soft words cut through the platitudes his voice was trying to win him with. "I'm here to help you, sweetie."

"It's too late…" the strangled whisper was all he could manage.

Then he ran, the voice taking complete control.

And he wasn't alone.