Chapter 17 - Life Is But A Dream

"Sir, what are we to do now without Queen Zeal?"

"Don't worry about it. The plans will still go ahead on schedule."

"But shouldn't we try to rescue her or something?"

He raised his eyebrow as he looked at the young man. "Do you think we should go after Gaspar and ruin his fun so early? No, let him think he's stopping us... who knows, he might even teach Alyssa some civility whilst he's at it. God knows that bitch could do with some."

The young officer tried not to smirk and thought he was doing a good job of it. Obviously, not as well as he thought.

"Wipe that stupid look off your face. You haven't earned the right to be condescending of those around you."

Stiffening, the young man nodded. "Yessir, the Zeitgeist project will continue as planned." With a stiff salute, he span on his heel and marched out of the room. When the door slid closed behind him, he slumped against the wall, breathing heavily from sheer panic.

Warren Stark, you've got to stop being such a smug bastard or you're gonna get yourself killed... You're not cut out for this undercover bullshit... but this will get you really close to Destiny, and that's no bad thing. She'll be happy if I pull this off, if I get her all the info she'll need... But why don't I just tell her what I already know and just get the hell out of here? I know more than enough already... but what if my suspicions are correct? I need just a little more time...


Elsewhere in the same complex, trouble was brewing. Main power was down and the red warning lights were now on, powered by the auxiliary generators. The walls themselves looked like they were covered in blood as the paint on them slowly blistered.

"What the fucking hell is going on!" screamed Burt Howards, one of the highly trained HoK engineers, as he bumped into a colleague. "It's turning into a bloody furnace in here!" What he got wasn't an explanation though. His eyes popped wide open as he felt the cold steel plunge into his belly. He staggered backwards, clutching his belly. He slowly looked down and turned his hands palm up. They were drenched in blood, rivulets running from his fingertips, dripping down onto the floor. He looked up in horror at his assailant, the last thing he saw before he toppled over. Lying on the floor, his hand slowly reached up to point at the black-clad figure. "W...w...why?" he croaked, moments before his eyes glazed over and his hand fell to the ground.

"That's classified sir," the figure said before sheathing the knife and stalking further down the corridor.

Everyone else on that deck was systematically wiped out in the same manner, none of them expecting the short, sharp trick fate held in store for them...


The screen lit up and the face of a young woman appeared on it. "The area has been neutralised. A clean sweep has been made."

"Good work Lieutenant, you've outdone yourself here. Expect a commendation soon. Proceed with the sweep, you know what to do."

"Yessir." With a quick salute, the woman's face disappeared and the screen faded to black again.

"So it is still angry, despite our best efforts," came a voice from the back of the room, drenched in shadows.

"Indeed Councillor Logan, indeed. I think we may need another sacrifice soon. I'd rather not have to keep clearing up after it, it gets ever so tiresome and the lab techs' have more than enough work to do as it is." With a sigh, he slowly massaged his temples with his forefingers, feeling the slightly saggy skin being pulled along as his fingers moved in small circles on the flesh. Looking back into the shadows he spoke up again, "Any luck locating Gaspar yet?"

"Not so far, but it is merely a question of time. He will be fo--"

Logan was cut off as the other mans hand slammed down on the desk. "Time we don't have dammit! It is drawing nearer with every day! We can't afford to go piss-arsing about looking for that old fool. Call off the search."

"But what about Alyssa?"

"That is of no consequence. She won't talk, and when it comes down to it, she would just be a hindrance. She's always been so damned--"

"Unreliable?" spoke the figure standing in the doorway. The light streamed around them, making their body appear entirely dark and impossible to identify. Stepping forward, her green hair shimmered in the firelight...


Slowly, his eyes flickered open, light pouring open. Stinging, he jammed them shut for a few seconds before slowly inching them open. Looking up, he recognised the sterile lights of the infirmary.

Looking up from her paperwork, one of the orderlies noticed his movement and got up. Striding over to where he was trying to sit up in the bed, she gently pushed him back down. "You need some more rest, that was one hell of an accident you got yourself into."

"Wha... what happened? Why am I here?" he blurted, the words spilling forth from his mouth in a tangled mess.

"There was an explosion throughout most of deck 47. You were lucky to escape the brunt of it. A lot of other engineers down there weren't nearly as lucky and got incinerated. Just sit back and try to get some rest," she said, her motherly tone making the words seem so soothing. He just laid back and slowly slipped back into sleep.

His eyes opened again and started stinging instantly, but not from light this time, but rather the brine he was floating in. Plastic see-through pipes were coming from all over his body, leading to something above his head. Thrusting his arms forward, they hit the glass casing that surrounded him and the salty water. He tried to scream but only bubbles came out as his mouth filled up with the foul tasting water...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" he screamed as he sat bolt upright in the infirmary bed, sweat running all over his body. Rushing over, a different orderly pushed him back to the mattress.

"It was just a dream, just a dream. Nothing to worry about at all."

Those damned dreams are always bloody haunting me. What the hell do they mean? Why me? With a sigh, Burt Howards closed his eyes and tried to get back to sleep, hopefully with dreams of his wife this time...