Dream Thief

by Stephen Lawhead

“Where does it lead? The only other person I can see that would know anything about any of this is Ari’s mother. You don’t mean that we should—”

  Adjani nodded. “Precisely. I believe we must pay Mrs. Zanderson a visit.”

  18

  OLMSTEAD PACKER SAT HEAVILY in his chair reading the latest findings of a battery of tests which had been carried out in his absence. He grumbled and muttered into the bushy red beard, regarding the material with sour disapproval. It seemed that, from the evidence, nothing had gone right while he was away; it would all have to be done over again.

  He got up and poured himself another cup of coffee from a jug on a bookshelf overflowing with magcarts, printouts, and stacks of coded discs. A chiming tone sounded from a wedge-shaped instrument in his desk and a clear, crisp voice announced, “Dr. Packer, there is a gentleman waiting to see you. He’s from an investigation firm.”

  “Oh?” That sounded interesting. “Send him in. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

  Almost before he could set the jug down and turn around, the panel of the outer office slid open and a large, egg-shaped object glided into the room. It was a pneumochair and in it sat a skeleton of a man grinning a deathly grin at him which chilled Packer like a sudden icy blast.

  “Professor Packer?” said the skeleton as the chair came to hover a few inches from the edge of his desk.

  “Yes. I’d ask you to have a seat, but I see you already have.”

  The skeleton laughed. “Very good. I’ll have to remember that one.”

  “What can I do for you?” Packer dropped back into his seat and folded his hands on the desk.

  “I am from the United Federal Insurance Group, investigation division.”

  Packer raised his eyebrows. “Oh? Something needs investigating?”

  “That is what I’d like to find out.” The man in the chair tilted his head to one side, studying the physicist behind the desk. “I believe you know Dr. Spencer Reston, do you not?”

  “Why, yes. Yes, I do. That is, before the accident.”

  “Accident?” The skeleton man’s eyes narrowed. “Could you tell me about it, please?”

  Packer hesitated, his large hands fumbling over one another on his desk. The insurance investigator noticed the man’s reluctance and said, “Oh, I assure you this is not a formal investigation. I was merely making our quarterly audit—you can understand that with an account this big, well—” He rolled his eyes to include the whole of the space station. “And someone mentioned the loss of one of our insureds—that is, one of your staff members. I merely thought that while I was here I might as well do a prelim and save some time later. No doubt a claim will be filed in due course and our company will schedule a formal inquiry. But… I’m sure you understand.”

  Packer nodded uncertainly. He was not sure he should tell this investigator anything at all, but figured a refusal would arouse undue suspicion where there was none to begin with. Besides, something about the investigator made him nervous and a little suspicious. He decided, out of loyalty to Adjani, to stick to the story he and Adjani had agreed upon.

  Packer cleared his throat. “Well, he wasn’t one of my staff members.”

  “Oh? He was on the research trip, correct?”

  “Correct. But he belonged to a different division—BioPsych, I believe.”

  “But you were party leader, were you not?”

  “Yes, of course. But that is not at all unusual. Often members of other divisions are invited along. As many as transport space will allow.”

  “I see. Do you know what happened to Dr. Reston?”

  The question came so quick that Packer did not have an answer ready. He bluffed. “I suppose so.”

  “Don’t you know for a certainty?”

  “Not really, no.” Packer lied and felt his stomach knot in tension.

  “Then what do you suppose happened to him?”

  “I suppose he froze to death.”

  “Would that not be extremely unlikely, professor?”

  Packer was beginning to feel as if he were a criminal under cross-examination. Perhaps talking to the investigator had not been such a good idea in the first place. He took a deep breath. “Not at all. It would, in fact, be quite the opposite—very likely.

  A fair certainty. For one caught outside of shelter in the Martian night, inevitable.”

  “I see. Is that what happened to Dr. Reston? He was caught outside of shelter?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s what I find so unlikely, Professor Packer. I keep asking myself why would an intelligent man like Dr. Reston allow that to happen to him? It simply doesn’t add up.”

  Packer glanced at the desk as if he held a hand of cards and was trying to decide how to play them. He sighed. “I will tell you something, Mr.—ah …”

  “Hocking.”

  “Mr. Hocking. This is off the record, you understand. I am not qualified to offer any kind of analysis of Dr. Reston’s condition.”

  “I understand. Continue.”

  “Dr. Reston was a very disturbed man. It is my opinion that he did not know what he was doing when he went out that night.”

  “Could he not have found his way back? He surely could not have wandered very far.”

  “No, you wouldn’t think so, but then with the storm and all … who really knows what happened?”

  “You never saw him again?”

  “No. Not a trace. We searched for eighteen hours before the storm brought a halt to the rescue operation. It was three days before the wind let up enough to venture outside again. And by that time …” He shrugged heavily. “There was no point.”

  “I see.”

  “All this is in my official report,” Packer said gruffly. “If you want to know any more about the incident, I suggest you look it up.” He felt he had said enough and that it was time his visitor left.

  “Well, I think that’s all for now. Thank you for your help, Professor Packer. I appreciate it. May I call on you again if any questions come up later?”

  “Of course.” His tone was even, noninviting.

  “I will do that. But I don’t anticipate the need for a lengthy investigation. Most likely you’ll never see me again.” Hocking’s chair backed away from the desk and whirred toward the door. “Oh, there is one other thing.” He fixed Packer with a crafty gaze.

  “What’s that?”

  “Do you think it was suicide?”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Director Zanderson mentioned the word, I believe.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t know. I wouldn’t like to comment on that.”

  “Just wondering.” The pneumochair half turned in the air. “I don’t suppose there is a chance that Dr. Reston could still be alive?”

  “Not the slightest.” Packer rose and came around the desk. “Good day, Mr. Hocking.” The interview was concluded; Packer wished he had terminated it a whole lot sooner. He had a dark suspicion that Hocking saw right through his flimsy answers.

  ARI FELT UNSEEN EYES upon her all day. She imagined spies around every corner. Though she saw no one and nothing out of the ordinary as she walked along the winding pathway, she nevertheless made doubly sure that no one followed her.

  She paused, looking both ways along the path and then skipped over the little brook and entered the green seclusion of the fern nook.

  “Oh, you’re here already,” she said upon entering. Spence greeted her; she saw by the look on his face that he was eager to learn what had been discovered from her detective work.

  “Where’s Adjani?”

  “He couldn’t make it. He had to work. But never mind that. What did you find out?”

  “Good news and bad news. The good news is that we can all make the jump down with the next shuttle. They’re bringing up a dozen extra construction workers this next trip. They’ve added an extra row of seats in the cabin. There are only twenty-five scheduled to go down this trip, so those seats will be empty. I’ve already obtained three travel
vouchers. We’re all set.”

  “When does it get here?”

  “The shuttle will get here on Thursday—two days from now. It leaves next morning.”

  “All right. It’ll have to do,” said Spence. Ari could see he was deep in thought, making rapid mental calculations.

  “Have to do! It’s blooming terrific! Do you have any idea how hard it would be to get aboard a shuttle any other time? You’d have to wait months for an extra seat. The schedules are tight, my dear. Impossibly tight.”

  “I’m sorry.” Spence smiled and looked at her as if he had not seen her before this moment. “I guess I’m a little preoccupied.”

  “Is that what you call it? Preoccupied? I call it bossy.” Her lip protruded in a pretty pout.

  “I said I was sorry.”

  “Oh, you’re no fun. I was only teasing.”

  Spence gave her a sharp look. She hurried on. “The rest of my news isn’t so terrific. I’ve looked and looked, but there is no record of anyone like you described on GM in the last six months.”

  “He was here all right. I saw him.” Spence was fighting the belief that he dreamed up the mystery figure.

  “No one doubts that you did, dearest. But there is simply not record that anyone answering your description was here. Obviously he was here without authorization.”

  “Authorization? Who would have to authorize him?”

  “GM ground base. You see, he’d need clearance for that pneumochair of his because of its magnetic field or whatever.”

  “He couldn’t get aboard without it?”

  “I don’t see how. The only other way would be for Daddy to offer clearance.”

  “He could do that?”

  “Certainly; if he wanted to. But he never has.”

  “He got on board somehow.”

  “Well, if he did someone else must have seen him. He was in a whole room full of cadets, wasn’t he? What class was it?”

  “I don’t know,” Spence moaned. “I can’t remember. I wasn’t there for the lecture. Anyway, confirming his existence isn’t the point. I saw him—so what if the whole colony saw him, too? I want to find out who he is.”

  “Are you sure it’s important? I mean, it won’t change anything one way or the other, will it?”

  “I don’t know what’s important or what’s not important any more. Everything’s getting so confused. But yes, I feel it’s important in here—” he thumped his chest. “Don’t ask me why, I just do.”

  Ari stepped close and laid a cool hand against his cheek. “It’s all right. Spencer,” she soothed. “No need to get heated up over this. We’re with you. We’ll work this out, you’ll see.”

  Spence calmed under the girl’s touch. He peered deep into the cool blue eyes and brought his hands up behind her neck.

  “You are an angel.”

  “Spence, can’t we tell Daddy about all this?” Her look implored him and he understood how hard it was for her to keep secrets from her father.

  “Soon. Very soon now we’ll tell him everything. I promise. But right now I’d rather as few people know about any of this as possible. There will be less chance of a slip up that way.”

  “All right. I do so hate to deceive him like this. I feel so guilty.”

  “You’re not deceiving him. Anyway, we’ll tell him soon enough.”

  They kissed then and held each other for a moment. Ari broke away first. “I’ve got to get back to the office. I’m watching Mr. Wermeyer’s desk today. He’s conducting a tour for some plastics manufacturers. They’ve got a congressman or lobbyist or some sort of high muckymuck with them. If you see any of them, stay out of the way; they’ll talk your leg off.”

  “I though that was your dad’s job—to entertain muckymucks.”

  “Usually it is, but he’s in seclusion today for some reason. I haven’t even seen him.” She smiled brightly. “Will I see you tonight?”

  “Yes. Tonight.”

  She blew him a kiss and vanished through the ferns. Spence watched her slim form blur as it merged with the green and gold of vegetation and sunlight beyond the shady hollow. He sat down and began going over the new information once again. He wanted to make sure he did not forget anything in order to give Adjani a complete report.

  HOCKING, EYES LIT WITH triumph, twitched with excitement. “Gentlemen,” he said, his voice booming through the speakers at either side of his head. His two henchmen looked at each other, uncertain how to interpret their unpredictable master’s mood. “I have great news. Our inquiries have borne fruit.”

  The tidings, whatever they were, had put their chief in a munificent frame of mind. They grinned slyly at one another and waited for Hocking to tell them what he had discovered.

  “Dr. Reston”—Hocking drew the name out in a long, sibilant hiss—“our wayward young genius, has been found. He is here on GM this instant, and very much alive!”

  19

  STAY IN HERE AND don’t move,” whispered Adjani. “I’ll see who it is and get rid of them.”

  Adjani had changed the access code to the door of his quarters and someone trying to punch in the old code had set off its signal. Spence, going through the drill, stepped inside the sanibooth and closed the panel to a crack so he could hear who it was.

  In a moment he heard Adjani sing out, “It’s all clear. You can come out.”

  Feeling like a burglar who had been discovered, he opened the door and crept out. The first thing he saw was Packer’s fiery head bobbing excitedly.

  “I don’t like it,” the big scientist was saying. “It’s getting out of hand.”

  “What’s up?”

  “All we need is a little more time,” Adjani explained.

  Packer addressed Spence. “I had a visitor today. An inquisitive fellow from the insurance company. You were high on his agenda.”

  “Oh?”

  “He was nosing around and found out about your disappearance; thought he’d check it out while he was in the neighborhood.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him you’d joined a monastery—what do you think I told him?” Packer’s jaw thrust forward angrily; his face was flushed and red.

  “Hold on. I know you’ve stretched your neck out as far as it’ll go on this. But don’t go turtle on us now. A few days more is all we need.”

  “We’re making great progress,” Adjani offered.

  The scowl on the big man’s face dwindled away, soon to be replaced by a slight, impish smirk. “You know, I do believe I twisted the old boy’s tail just a bit. It wasn’t really necessary, but the guy acted like I’d made off with his precious Dr. Reston. He tried to give me a real professional cross-examination, but I cut him off pretty quick.”

  Adjani and Spence looked at each other. “Besides,” Packer continued, “this guy gave me the willies. Him in that pneumochair and all shrunken up like that. He looked like a skeleton!”

  Packer stared at his listeners. “Hey, what’s the matter?—I say something wrong?”

  TWO GREAT CURVING HEMISPHERES, blue in the light of a silvery moon, rose up like incandescent mountains—smooth, pale, and surrounded by a zigzagging wall which fell around them in a seamless black barrier. Spence looked and saw a tower, a thin heaven-poised finger, between the two domes shimmering darkly in the moonlight…

  He sat on a stone ledge separated from the palace by a deep gorge. Between him and the palace, swinging in the wind rushing out of the chasm, hung an ancient bridge made of twisted rope and wood. He could hear the wind singing through the ropes and saw the frayed ends blowing on the breezes like an old woman’s hair. The frail structure creaked as it danced, and the sound was a ghostly falling laughter which echoed away into the inky depths below. In Spence’s ears the sound became the voice of his enemy jeering at him, daring him to cross the crevice on that bridge and come to the palace to face him.

  He huddled with his hands around his knees, shivering in the chill night air, but then rose and went to the swa
ying bridge, gripping the frayed ropes with his hands and placing one foot cautiously on the footboards. At his first step the bridge bounced wildly. Spence drew back.

  In a moment he worked up his courage again and stepped gingerly out onto the bridge. The laughter seemed to well up from the chasm below as he heard the roar of a crashing cataract, like the sound of an angry beast thrashing in its dark den. He closed his ears to the sounds and kept his eyes on the far side and walked on step by cautious step.

  He reached the middle of the bridge and felt the sharp winds buffeting him, rustling his clothing. Then everything was still; the night sounds faded and a gentle warmth seeped into the air.

  A new sound reached his ears—the sobbing of a young woman. He looked up and saw Ari standing on the far side of the brink. Her tears fell in liquid gems and sparkled on her cheeks. She was crying and lifting up her arms to him. Her long yellow hair was white in the moonlight and it drifted like moondust.

  “Ari!” Spence cried and heard the name repeated again and again far below him.

  He raised his foot and put it down and felt himself step into the air. His foot failed to touch wood and he fell, plunging headlong down into the gorge, spinning helplessly down and down. He screamed in terror and anger and saw the form of his love turn into that of a wizened old man who peered over the edge and laughed at him. The rocks rang with laughter, and he shut his eyes and screamed to keep out the hideous sound.

  Then he was on his knees in a dirty, stinking street, narrow between the crumbling facades of buildings. The moon shone between the buildings from above and he could see far down the canyon-street to where it ended at a broad gray river.

  He began walking toward the river and felt a pang of terror clutch at his heart. He looked behind him and saw nothing, though he heard the rush of muffled feet.

  He started to run.

  The feet ran with him and he saw on either side of him dark shapes flitting by to become lost in shadow. He peered over his shoulder and saw a churning black mass sweeping ever nearer to him.

  He came to a courtyard bounded on all sides by a high wall. He stood in the center of the yard on crumbling stone, one hand pressed to his side, breathing hard and feeling the burning stab of pain in his side. All at once he heard them, his pursuers, coming down the narrow street behind him. He turned and saw hundreds of narrow yellow eyes and the curved white slivers of bared teeth. He heard an enormous slavering growl tearing up out of a hundred throats as the dogs sprang on him, their jaws snapping, hackles raised, ears flattened to their angular heads.