The Dream Thief

by Leann M Rettell

  Murdered? They wouldn't? Would Aelia really order that?

  "I don’t know. Maybe. Let me call, then we'll figure something out." He leaned forward, taking every ounce of strength to pull her into a feeble embrace, rubbing her back with a trembling hand.

  Time passed, but he wouldn't rush her. She cried for a long time. Was it over fear or for her safety? Or was she releasing her worry over him? Was it for the future that seemed impossible to avoid? A little of everything? As her sobs quieted, her shoulders relaxed with a series of deep breaths. She pushed back from him, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be right outside.” She flicked the light switch and closed the door with a soft click.

  Malcolm drank a third glass of syrup, wishing for some coffee or tea. Turning his phone on, he sipped while it loaded without bothering to read the dozens of missed text messages that rang out over and over. Dialing Stephanie's name, he didn’t have to wait long.

  "Hello?"

  "It's me."

  Stephanie sighed. "Thank god. Debbie called me every day. Are you okay?"

  "Weak, head’s killing me, feel like I could lose myself again."

  "You didn’t feel a need to transport here?"

  "No." He lied, not missing her implication of the similarities of his and Caelieus's condition.

  "Not yet? I suppose it’s coming."

  This captured his attention like a lion spotting a gazelle. "What do you mean not yet? I’ve been out for a week. You said Caelieus was only like that for a few hours before transporting to the Agency?"

  "Shit!" Stephanie said. "Malcolm listen."

  "Hold on. You knew it would get worse? You know what. Never mind. Did you have anything to do with Tobias Miller’s death?" Malcolm took a stab in the dark, guessing it was her, hoping, praying it wasn’t.

  "Malcolm, you know what we're up against. With Caelieus still missing, we have no way of knowing if he missed a target. Since your condition started after missing your latest target, and Caelieus’s condition began after his last target, I can only assume the two are related."

  "Assume? You would kill over an assumption? You would kill even though the dream was stolen? You said Caelieus reported three cases then nothing until he transported to Cos, but you said his condition was like mine, so you couldn’t know for sure. He wouldn’t not report a missed target. So what aren't you telling me Aelia?"

  "Do your job Malcolm. Either stop her or I will." Aelia avoided his question.

  He half expected her to hang up on him, but she didn't. "I will go to the others," he said.

  "Do what you want. I'm the Librarian." Her voice dripped pure venom.

  "The Librarian has been given authority because it was convenient. We can take it away.” At least he thought they could.

  "You can try, but no one else will take charge, not unless they’re assigned here. You know the sway the Librarian has over your will. I'm doing what needs to be done. Making the hard decisions."

  He knew the words were true. The Librarian was an unspoken position of power. While they didn’t have to obey, a physical compulsion washed over them when the Librarian commanded something done. He’d never had to rebel against an order. He didn’t know if he could. "What decision is that?"

  "Terminating targets, that's what. For centuries, we've spared the lives of those dreamers. Those capable of such atrocities. We should dispose of them. If they’re capable of those things from one idea, who says they couldn’t have another."

  "That’s what we were made for. Why kill the person when you can kill the idea? You’re crazy! We’ve been through this. You've been the Librarian more than the rest of us. You've read so many reports. Look at the good they go on to do!"

  "I've been the Librarian. I've read all the horrible things people do, and we saved them!" With each word, her voice rose higher and higher.

  "You've been out of the field too long. You don't get to experience all the joy those targets bring when we stop their dreams. Even if doesn’t change the world, it makes it a more beautiful place. Most of them aren't evil, they make a mistake. Take a wrong turn. We can fix that."

  "Been out of the field too long! You think that was my choice? I'm trapped here! I'm a prisoner. I've done nothing and am punished for these target’s sins. They go free while I'm…stuck."

  Her depression and isolation were much deeper than any of them realized. With her being the sole hub of information, how much could she have been doing behind the shadows that none of them knew about? "Aelia, what have you done?"

  The silence stretched for minutes, deep and far, as if his soft words had to find her miles inside herself, locked in her own cage of sadness. "Caelieus had a fourth target. He left the report before his condition began. The future was as blotchy as yours, because this future has more than one target."

  His brain whirled fast trying to put all the pieces of the puzzles together. "His target was Wu Sun." Malcolm recalled the man who wanted to invest in a research company. Could that have been Dharma Knight’s research?

  "His third one was,” Aelia said.

  “Who was the fourth?”

  “Tobias Miller.” Malcolm recognized the name. He had been Dharma’s partner at the WHO. "Caelieus stole his dream too. This Tobias Miller was off the project, and you had him killed anyway? Did you kill Wu Sun too?"

  She said nothing.

  The pause lingered, separating them as clearly as the distance. They would never be the same. He would never trust her again. "You never had any intention of letting Dharma Knight live did you?"

  She hung up.

  24

  Nothing Debbie and Malcolm tried to sabotage Dharma worked. They decided on a last-ditch effort because tomorrow, Stephanie would send one of the other dream thieves to kill Dharma. Who would she send? Probably Lother, the prick.

  He had to stop Dharma today, or he would convince whoever Stephanie sent to not kill the young scientist. He figured the latter would be a longshot; whoever she’d send would have already killed at least twice.

  They walked into Avient Pharmaceuticals hand in hand. Malcolm dressed in jeans, button-up shirt, and cowboy boots. Debbie had returned to her usual style. She weaved her long brown hair in a teal scarf. Her hair hung down her back, and curling tendrils framed her face. She had on a turquoise, flowing blouse and a multicolored maxi skirt that swept at her ankles. Pretty golden sandals accented her purple toenails. She jingled slightly with the necklace of amethyst nuggets mixed with precious metals, and similar earrings dangled from her ears. She was the epitome of stunning, looking exactly as Malcolm always pictured her. She smiled, and the little dimple at her chin pulled in, softening her face, making her look childlike.

  Inside the building, she flashed her badge through the scanner, and the fake one Omar had made for Malcolm worked without a hitch. He knew it would, but that didn’t stop the nervous cold sweat and flutter of his heart when he scanned it. The guards didn’t give them a second look. Malcolm pressed the down button, and they waited for the elevators. The usual bustle of the lab had ground to a halt, which Malcolm was counting on since quitting time was in ten minutes. Dharma Knight hadn’t left yet. She was engrossed in a microscope with a pencil stuck in her hair, pulled out of the way, as more of an afterthought into a loose messy bun at the base of her neck. Debbie had noted Dharma stayed late almost every night, which worked in their favor. She didn’t look up when they entered the otherwise empty lab. Malcolm and Debbie only had to wait for the other labs to empty.

  At five after five, the last of the employees filtered out of the remaining labs. The subfloor was empty, save for the three of them. Dharma still remained glued to the microscope, taking her time, scanning every micro-inch of each slide before moving on to the next one. Malcolm squeezed Debbie’s hand, and she nodded before moving to Dharma’s side and clearing her throat.

  Dharma jumped, but she would have done that no matter the time of day. “Oh. Debbie, you gave me a fright. I thought you were out sick today. Are y
ou feeling all right?”

  “Yes, I, uh, we wanted to talk to you.”

  “We?” Dharma swiveled in her chair. “Oh, Mr. Hart. I didn’t know you were coming in tonight. I’m sure Dr. Cole would have stayed to see you.” She stood from her chair, crossing the distance between them, to shake his hand.

  “I wanted to see you, Dr. Knight.”

  “Oh. I see,” she said, though her face furrowed. “What can I do for you?”

  “You have to stop your research.”

  Whatever she had expected him to say, that clearly wasn’t it. Anger rose in her face, “Excuse me. This is my life’s work. What I’m doing here matters. It will change the world.” She spun away from him. Returning to her microscope, she picked up her cell, typed a few things, and snapped it down on the counter.

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It will change the world. You will win the Nobel Prize, but you’ll regret it, the world will. Your life is in danger.”

  “You’re crazy, Mr. Hart.”

  “I’m not crazy. One of these experiments will cause the human population to decline then cease. Humans will no longer be able to have children.”

  She spun to face him again. “What? That’s preposterous!” Her cheeks flushed red as anger rose high in her cheeks. She breathed heavy, and if this had been a cartoon, steam would have flown from her ears.

  “No, it isn’t.” He moved, closer, voice calm and soft, trying to reason with her, “We don’t know how exactly.”

  “But she does.” Debbie tilted her chin higher. “Don’t you, Dr. Knight?”

  Malcolm stopped, mid-sentence, open-mouthed, then stared from Debbie to Dharma. Dharma shook her head, her angry face emptying of color before his very eyes. Debbie was right. Dharma did know something, and Debbie hadn’t told him.

  Debbie shook her head as disgust played across her face. “Lynda told me something was wrong with the experiments. She said she tried to convince you to scrap the whole thing.”

  “You have to tell me. What do you know?” Malcolm asked, all pretense of calm gone. If Dharma knew, if she already knew, then all she had to do was stop it. They could destroy all the research, or burn this building to the ground if they had to. Anything was better than this experiment ending the world or her being murdered.

  “It’s nothing. You must have been reading my old notes. The problem has been fixed.”

  “What old notes? What problems?” Malcolm asked.

  “It’s not nothing!” Debbie waved a hand toward the extensive file cabinets.

  Dharma moved her hands back and forth in front of her. “I told you it doesn’t matter, whatever Lynda said. I’ll fire her for this. Mr. Hart, please. Rest assured. The research is fine.”

  “Your research isn’t fine. You have to stop! Didn’t you hear me?” Debbie asked.

  “Is this some kind of a joke?” Dharma glanced from Debbie to Malcolm then back to Debbie.

  Malcolm walked toward her. “I’m telling you if you don’t agree to stop, your life is in danger. People are coming to kill you.”

  Dharma’s face paled further. She turned her head, eyeing him, and Malcolm sensed her fear escalating seconds before she backed away, moving at a snail’s pace toward the back. She slipped behind a table, and Debbie ran toward her. “Stop her! She’s going for the alarm.”

  Malcolm scaled the table, blocking her before she reached her destination. Dharma screamed, turned, and ran. Debbie blocked her, but Dharma crashed into her, sending Debbie flying, knocking over a row of planters.

  Malcolm caught Dharma about the middle. She screamed again. His hand gripped around her mouth. “Stop. I’m not going to hurt you. Tell me what you know.” She screamed against his hand. She kicked and bucked, but her pitiful human strength did nothing against him. “Tell me!”

  Debbie rolled on her feet. “There. Her notes are there.” Debbie ran to a file cabinet in the back. She jerked it open. “Which file?”

  Dharma shook her head. Malcolm dragged her closer. She landed kicks to his shins and elbowed his ribs before he caught her hands. He jumped into superhuman speed, closing the distance in seconds. Malcolm pinned Dharma against him, and he could see down into the open file cabinet. Dharma’s screams vanished in her shock. He used this to his advantage. “I’m not human. I’m telling the truth. Whatever you think you can fix, you can’t. You will end the world, Dharma. Now tell me what I need to know so we can fix this.” He relaxed his grip on her arm. She pointed, and Debbie searched for the file. He eased his hand off her mouth, and she didn’t scream, but he wasn’t dumb enough to let her go.

  Debbie flipped through the file, page after page.

  Dharma sighed. “Go to page seventy-two.” Debbie looked up, then used her thumb to flip through the pages. She read out loud. “Day One hundred forty-seven of experiment AZ3499. An unexpected outcome appears to be happening. The mice used to test the products have given birth. This is not an issue, but we have since moved on to a second and now a third generation of mice. Tobias Miller wanted to continue breeding them to see the longitudinal outcome of eating the test product versus the control. Would the subsequent generations be stronger, faster, smarter, more resistant to disease? However, what has occurred is a differentiation in breeding rates between the control versus the experimental groups. Those in the experimental groups are reproducing at a slower rate. Sun and I have decided to terminate experiment AZ3499. We will begin again with a new subgroup tomorrow. This has been an unfortunate loss, but we will forge ahead.”

  Malcolm was dumbfounded. Dharma had the data, right there written in her own hand, and still she continued the experiments?

  “Dr. Sun and I did three more groups after that. We determined AZ3499 to be an anomaly. None of the other test subjects behaved in the same way. We tested it.” Dharma defended, still held against his arms.

  Debbie looked as if she might be sick and eyed Dharma as if she were poison.

  “I’m telling you; it isn’t an anomaly. If you release that experiment, then what happened to your mice will happen to everyone. Could you do that to your son or your grandchild? Take away their ability to have children?”

  “How do you know I have a son?”

  “The same way I know Dr. Miller abandoned his work on these projects before he was murdered. Am I right?”

  Her back stiffened. “What did you do to him?”

  Malcolm laughed, increasing his grip on her, “Me? I didn’t do anything. One of my siblings stole his dream.” He left out that Aelia had him killed.

  “What?”

  “What I did was fail to steal yours. Don't you remember the morning I woke you up?”

  Dharma’s back arched, and she paused in fear. With disbelief in her voice, she murmured, “You? It was you?”

  Before he could answer, she bucked, kicked, and fought with everything she had to get away.

  He laughed. “Yes, me, and if your son wouldn't have walked in, then you would’ve given up this experiment too. Just like Tobias walked away out of the blue. But little Jaime woke you up, and I missed part of it. Haven’t you noticed since that night that you can't quite focus? Like an idea is on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t grasp it.”

  “Hold it right there.” A man’s voice sounded, followed by the unmistakable sound of a gun.

  “James!” Dharma cried out, her voice finally breaking. Malcolm remembered her typing on her phone. She’d notified her husband. How had he gotten here so fast?

  Malcolm had no choice. They hadn't convinced her. And still, no matter what Dharma had done, she thought she would help people. She had a son, and Malcolm couldn't live with himself if she had to be eliminated. He did the only thing left he could think to do.

  He reached a hand up and touched her forehead. For the first time ever, he opened the place inside him, the dream thief core, the singularity, and entered her mind while she was awake.

  25

  Unlike entering a sleeping mind, the waking one resisted him like a bric
k wall. Malcolm pushed and bent the place inside him while pain rippled through his head. Already he felt the usual flow of blood from his nose before he’d taken a thing from Dharma. She had such a strong, powerful mind. He didn’t know if all human minds were like this or just hers. She fought him, and with each resistance, pain lanced in his skull.

  Pushing, pulling, climbing, and clawing, he got nowhere. Without warning, her mind gave way. It was like pushing on a barricaded door that vanished out of nowhere. With no resistance, his power flew forward and bounced around in her thoughts.

  It took a second or two to orient himself. The inside of her mind blazed beautiful and bright. He saw memories of Dharma’s childhood, her parents, her soccer games, and her playing the trumpet. It fast forwarded to her first chemistry lab in high school and then to meeting James. He saw their first kiss at a dance—maybe prom—and their first time making love. Then there was Dharma in a white wedding dress, and then in cap and gown. The gown faded to a hospital one, and she held a sleeping, swathed newborn baby.

  Malcolm needed to focus. Had he been in her mind for a second or hours? He couldn’t say. As soon as he wanted to focus, he did, then he zapped to the experiments. He didn't understand what she did—the scientific names of plants, genetic composition, and how to mix one gene with the next were lost on him. But he found one memory in a locked box as if she had stuffed it there at the last second to protect it. He pulled with all the strength he had, felt it draining him and changing him, but he slammed his will down hard on the box. Instead of taking, something pulled from him, and a line of thought flowed between the two of them. Malcolm recognized the fragments of the original dream, mingling with the vestiges of Dharma’s until the two merged and the horrific future laid bare before them. Dharma’s locked box exploded, opening like a treasure trove before him, yielding everything willingly. Malcolm pulled out the contents like a greedy, starving man sucking through a straw. He had it all.