by Gareth Otton
Friday, 3rd March 2017
15:01
Mitena’s eyes were fixed on the mop in her hands as she moved it over the same spot in an endless cycle. In truth, Mitena wasn’t watching what she was doing as she was once again lost in thoughts that had consumed more of her mind every day. It had been a month since she was last called upon to help with dreamcatchers for the government, and without that distraction it was impossible not to think of the faces of people she had killed, nor the one face than haunted her more than any; her brother.
Her actions turned him into a monster that had to be put down like a rabid animal. She had ruined the person she had been closest to in this world, and wasn’t sure how she could live with herself after that.
“Campbell,” a voice barked, and Mitena flinched, almost dropping the mop as she turned to see who had called. One of the guards was glaring at her and Mitena realised she was about to get told off for day dreaming again. She wondered if she might be punished a little more severely this time, as it was the fifth time today she’d been shouted at. “Come with me, you’ve got a visitor.”
Mitena blinked, not understanding the words at first. It was only when the guard started getting agitated that she put down her mop and hurried after the him. She ignored the gazes of the other women working with her and kept her eyes forward as they left the room she had been mopping and started down the plain corridors that all looked the same when you weren’t paying much attention.
She wondered who might be here to visit, as she didn’t have many friends left. As the government didn’t have much use for her anymore, especially since she refused to work with their military on creating weapons out of dreamcatchers, she didn’t expect it would be one of them either. She continued to be puzzled until she stepped into the meeting room and was surprised to find Stella Martin sitting at the visitor table.
Mitena skidded to a stop just inside the door, distracted by the woman’s presence. She hadn’t seen Stella in months, but she had heard the rumours along with the rest of the world. The countless stories about eidolon had only built the woman’s fame to new peaks and there were rumours of some nut-jobs starting a church in her name, thinking to return to a time when gods walked among mortals.
The result of that increased belief was that the woman who had always been beautiful now leant new meaning to the word breathtaking. There was a genuine weight to being in her presence that came from more than just her incredible appearance, and it took a moment for Mitena to adjust.
“Mitena, it’s good to see you,” Stella said. “How are you? I haven’t been able to check in on you in a while.”
“It’s not a problem,” Mitena answered as her mind caught up with the present and she slid into the seat on her side of the table. “I’ve been okay.”
Stella smiled again and shook her head.
“That lie wouldn’t have made it past me even before all my changes.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to lie… I just… I mean…”
“It’s okay. I know what you mean. I’m just teasing. Seriously, Mitena. How are you? I know the last few months can’t have been easy.”
Again dark thoughts flashed through her mind, the faces of dead people, the innocents harmed by the monster she created, and then there was the face of her brother himself, both before and after his changes. She blinked and shook her head.
“Would you mind if we talked about something else? How are you doing?” she asked, hoping to change the topic.
“Good, for the most part,” Stella answered. “The last few months have been hard, and it’s been a struggle to cope with everything that happened. In some ways, it seems like it’s been ages, but in others it feels like it was just yesterday. It makes the losses harder to bear, you know, almost like your re-opening wounds before they had a chance to close. But, if there’s one thing I’ve learnt over the last year and a half, it’s that letting the bad times define your life means you aren’t really living. Even though it hurts, what’s the point of being here if we don’t take advantage of everything the world has to offer, which is quite a lot since the Second Merging.”
“You’re reforming the Dream Team?” Mitena asked. Since she turned herself in, Mitena did most of her work for the Dream Team and wouldn’t be against doing more of the same going forward. Anything for the distraction.
“No,” Stella said. “That ship has sailed. With the Merging going global, Dream is going to be a part of our lives from now on. We need to learn to live with that. An off shoot of the police is no longer the right answer. It’s time to integrate what remained of the Dream Team into the regular police force because this is our new normal.”
“So you’re going back to work for the police?”
“They offered, and it was a good offer, actually, something the old me would have jumped at. But I turned them down.” She smiled at the surprise on Mitena’s face and said, “Did I ever tell you why I joined the force? I had something of a difficult childhood and wanted to help kids who might be going through something similar. Over the years, I lost my way and got too focused on playing the game instead of my original goal. When I met Tad and we formed the Dream Team, I realised there were other ways to help people, and while I may not be helping just kids, I was doing good on a scale that was just as fulfilling.”
She waved her hand irritably and said, “I’m not explaining myself well. I’m trying to say that I’ve learnt that there’s more than one way I can do good in the world, and while I still think the police was a good path for me, I’ve changed a lot recently and now I think there are better ways to help. In fact, that’s why I’m here, because I think that’s a dream you and I share.”
Mitena struggled to answer, not sure what she was supposed to say, but again Stella spoke over her.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I get the impression that one reason you turned yourself in and and wanted to help was because you’re trying to do as much good as you can to make up for the lives you took.”
“There’s not enough good in the world to make up for that,” Mitena answered.
“Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.” Stella leaned forward, locking eyes on Mitena and forcing her to match her stare so that Mitena could see the intensity and passion that was sparkling in those amazing eyes. “You have a gift, Mitena. A genius for creating dreamcatchers and I believe that it is with that genius that we can do the most good for the world.
“People think dreamwalkers and eidolon are amazing, but they’re outshone by your designs. While people like me and dreamwalkers can do incredible things, that’s just an accident of birth. Your dreamcatchers, though, that’s different. We could develop this art and get dreamcatchers into the hands of every man, woman and child on the planet. Think of the problems we could solve if we tap into the potential of what you started.
“So, I have a proposition. I want to start a company with two parts. The first is a place for you to design, create, sell, and distribute Dreamcatchers to the world. I think that if we leverage your genius, my contacts and the fame I have now, we could earn a lot of money very fast.”
She suddenly laughed and said, “Don’t worry, I can see by your expression that you’re not interested much in that.” She leaned forward even more, bringing her face closer to Mitena’s as she excitedly whispered, “Neither am I. Which is why the personal profit is not the primary function of the first part of the business. Don’t get me wrong, I want to make money because I know that money is what makes the world turn and if we want to make the kind of impact I hope for, we’ll need lots of it. But the truth is, that first part of the business is only so we can fund the second part.”
“What is that?” Mitena asked, sucked into what Stella was selling.
“The second part is the charitable part of the business. Like the first part, it is all about designing, manufacturing and distributing dreamcatchers, but there’s no selling this time. These dreamcatchers we’re giving away so that we can help the worl
d. Think of the problems you can solve, Mitena. Right off the top of my head I know your dreamcatchers could be used for free, clean energy. I mean, think of the impact that would have on the environment and underdeveloped nations. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg… Which, if I’m reading your expression right, you understand far better than I do.”
Stella was right.
New thoughts rushed through Mitena’s head, thoughts sparked to life by Stella’s words and then jumping off in new directions. Stella had mentioned going into business before, but Mitena hadn’t thought about the bigger picture. Now that Stella brought it up, she couldn’t understand why not.
“Today was my last day working with the government,” Stella announced, sitting back and seemingly changing the topic. “I’ve been helping them transition what remained of the Dream Team into the police and sharing what knowledge I had until this point. Before I left, though, I was able to talk some important people into a special deal. You take up my offer and come work with me, and I can get you out of here five days a week, so you only have to be here for nights and weekends. If you behave, show that you can be trusted, and commit to helping the world and making up for what you did, then they’ve agreed to look at your parole in just five years.”
“I don’t need that deal,” Mitena argued. “I’m right where I deserve to be for what I did. I’d be happy to work for you without that.”
“Work with me,” Stella disagreed. “And the deal stands. The very fact that you feel that way is why it should stay. People forget what prisons are for. Sure, there is an aspect of punishment there, and there should be. But the real reason for prisons is to take people who could be harmful to society out of the population until they have proved that they can once more be trusted to be a functioning member of that society. It’s about protecting people more than it is punishing people. Keeping you locked up is the opposite of that Mitena, especially with how you feel about what you did.
“But if you don’t want to be let off the hook that easily, look at it this way; when you get your chance at freedom, that just means you get to choose how you spend your time. You don’t want to be limited to just five days a week of helping people, then maybe you might want to upgrade to a full seven and start working on weekends.”
Mitena didn’t know what to say, and again Stella didn’t wait for her to figure it out. She climbed to her feet and stepped away from her chair before pushing it back in place.
“Have a think about it over the weekend, and I’ll come back on Monday to get your answer,” she said. Then, when it was clear that Mitena was still too stunned to answer, Stella smiled, said goodbye and walked towards the exit.
Mitena’s thoughts were growing as complicated as some of her designs could get. Stella couldn’t know what she had done by unlocking these thoughts in Mitena’s mind and she knew that if she let herself, she could easily become obsessed. It would be nice to be obsessed with thoughts that might help people rather than dwelling on the people she had harmed. However, most of all, she realised that these thoughts gave her something she desperately needed. They gave her a purpose to keep going.
“Stella,” Mitena blurted before Stella could leave the room. She waited for the woman to turn before she said, “You don’t have to wait until Monday. I can give you my answer now. Let’s do this. Let’s fix the world.”
46
Sunday, 01st April 2017
09:01
The clinking of the brush hitting the side of the pot broke the silence.
Lindsay looked up from the padded wicker chair in the room's corner where she had been enjoying the sunshine through the large windows as she played on her phone. The young woman would have been thirty if she was still alive, but unfortunately she had been walking by the houses of parliament at a very unfortunate time and had lost her life when Kuruk’s people had blown it up.
“You done?” she asked a little hopefully.
Sensing the impatience in her voice and seeing the flickering purple of irritation in her aura, Tad couldn’t help but smile. As far as he was concerned, she should long since have lost her patience days ago, and she had been a saint to have stuck it out for so long.
“I’m done,” he agreed. “I can’t thank you enough for this, Lindsay. I know it’s been a pain sitting with me all this time but—”
“It was the least I could do,” the young woman said as she stood and made her way towards the exit of the large conservatory and the garden beyond. “You won’t need me for a while after this, right?”
“No, you’ve more than earned your freedom,” Tad said. “And I owe you one.”
“If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be able to stay here right now,” Lindsay disagreed even as she had one foot outside the door. “How about we call it even?”
“Deal,” Tad agreed. “I’ll see you in a month when you come back for your top up.”
Lindsay smiled and waved, then she was gone, rushing through the well-maintained garden and around the side of the house. Tad watched her go for a moment and then turned back to the large painting in front of him, shaking his head as he examined the result of a month of hard work.
Lindsay was the first ghost Tad had ever sought out for her talent alone. She was an incredibly talented artist before she died and therefore had the perfect skills to help Tad with his mental recovery. His physical recovery had taken weeks, and were it not for the tireless efforts of Jen and Dr Burman taking him in and out of Dream over a period of five days, it might have taken him even longer if he survived at all. Dr Burman said that they had never seen what was wrong with him in anyone else before. Their best guess was that pulling over so much Dream had created massive trauma throughout his whole body at once. It was a miracle he survived long enough for Jen to help him, and it was an injury he never would have recovered from with modern medicine alone.
However, thanks to Jen and the tireless work of Thomas and Rodney, Tad’s recovery was swift once the key damage had been taken care of, but even then it was a few weeks before he was back on his feet. Part of that was the injuries themselves, and a bigger part of it was the mental cost of losing his last ghost.
It had been bad enough when Charles and Miriam moved on, but Tony was his last link to a life he started losing when Joshua King began killing Proxies. When Tony left, he took more away with him than Tad was prepared to give. It took a colleague of Kimberly’s weeks to get Tad back to a point where he was ready to try getting better, and it was from one of those sessions that had led him down this particular path and left him needing Lindsay’s help.
Smiling at his painting, he removed the canvas from the easel and carried it deeper into the house, admiring his work and Lindsay’s talent. It was all the more amazing to him because even now, minutes after he had finished it, he knew he couldn’t do this again. After losing Tony, Tad vowed he’d never take another ghost. This time it felt more final than when he had vowed the same thing after Charles moved on, and he had even stopped merging with Thomas and Rodney. Now his only interaction with ghosts came through his animancy, which he used just enough to keep the ghosts in his life sane and to retain his eyesight. For the most part he was happy with this decision, but the only thing he missed was access to the talents of the ghosts he used to share a head with.
It had taken a few weeks of trial and error, but Tad eventually discovered a way of using his animancy to temporarily connect with a ghost without merging, taping only into their talents. The only downside was that the talent didn’t last when he broke the connection, hence why Lindsay was such a saint for sitting with him for hours while he worked. Compared to the cost of merging with another person, Tad thought this minor inconvenience was a price worth paying.
He barely looked where he was going as he made his way through the house. He might have only been living here a couple of months, but he had spent enough time inside these walls that he was starting to know it almost as well as he knew his old place. He entered a living room that was much larger t
han his old one, and found his way to the wall at the back of the room where there was a pre-installed hook waiting for this very painting. The painting wasn’t heavy, but it was big, so Tad struggled a little with his bad hand not being much use, but soon he had the painting in place, and he stood back to admire it in context.
The large canvas was surrounded by equally large images, photos rather than paintings. The first was a photo of a smiling teenager with a cheeky grin. It had taken him ages to find this photo of Tony because ghosts didn’t photograph well until recently, and the only photos Tony’s parents had of him were from a life far removed from the one Tad shared with their son. He had not been so confident back then, nor so playful. They had searched for hours to find this perfect one.
Next to the photo of Tony was another shot that had taken some tracking down as he’d had to hunt down Kate’s family in order to find where her things had gone after she died. However, it was worth the hunt as the photo of Kate standing behind Miriam and with her arms around the smaller woman, both of them smiling happily, was exactly how Tad wanted to remember his friends.
Next to that was a photo of a grey ball of fur that hadn’t spent nearly enough time in this world as he deserved, but had been here long enough to make a big impact on Tad. Freckles easily earned his spot on this wall and Tad was just glad that with all the chaos of last year, they had taken the time to get this photo.
The last space was the most difficult to fill because cameras weren’t a thing when Charles was alive. However, thanks to Lindsay and Tad’s doctor’s suggestion that Tad do something meaningful to honour the memory of his ghosts as a way of coming to terms with their loss, he now had a picture of his oldest friend to hang on the wall along with the rest of his family.
As Tad took a step back, he felt new tears fill his eyes as he looked at the painting of his lost friend and admired Lindsay’s talent. The painting was good enough to belong in a museum and perfectly captured the warmth in his old friend’s expression. In a way, because he had painted it himself while flooding his mind with all the memories of his old friend that he could pull up, it was almost more real to Tad than even the photos were.
