by V. E. Lemp
Karen took a long swallow of her wine, gripping the glass with both hands to still the quivering in her fingers.
“It’s not necessarily a bad thing. With your ability to communicate with the Oneiroi there are many who view you as a valuable commodity. They want to keep you under government control. As long as you’re married to me … well, they’re satisfied I’m fulfilling that mission.”
Karen stared at him. “You can’t be serious.” She felt her lips twitch into a smile. “Under your control?”
“I know,” Mark replied, with an answering smile. “It’s ridiculous. If only”—his smile widened—“they knew how completely absurd that idea is. But fortunately, they’re easily fooled, at least in this matter. It’s really for the best. As long as they think I’m your handler they’ll refrain from tracking your every move.”
“Astonishing.” Karen took another swig of her wine.
“Well, to be honest, I do think of you as an asset.” Mark’s expression brought a flush to Karen’s face. “Certainly an asset to my life. It would be so much poorer without you.”
“Hmmm … I’m not sure you’re not playing a double game with me now, Mr. Hallam.”
“And what would that be?”
“I think you know.” Karen leaned into him. “So you have to take off again. These assignments are becoming a pain. Lately you spend more time on the road than at home.”
“It does give you the freedom to work in your studio without any interruptions. I thought you appreciated that.”
“Oh, I don’t mind all of the interruptions.” Karen glanced up at him from under her lashes. “Some can be quite inspirational.”
Mark laughed. “For me as well.” He sat back and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone this time. I’m afraid I’ll have to stay until Myron and his followers decide to leave.”
“Well, is it possible for me to come along?” Karen asked after a few moments of silence. “Since I’m not teaching this summer, I do have the time.”
Mark’s face brightened. “I don’t see why not. It would certainly make the trip more pleasant.”
“And you could keep me under surveillance, in addition to Myron Tarrow. Monitor two assets at once. That might make your bosses happy.”
“Why, yes, it would. You’re getting the hang of this stuff, aren’t you? I’m going to have to keep my eye on you or you’ll soon be beating me at my own game.”
“I doubt that.” Karen laid her head on his shoulder. “You’ve so many more years of practice.”
“But you, my love,” Mark said, brushing her hair with a swift kiss, “have such natural talent. I think you may have missed your calling.”
“My calling? No, my vocation’s to be an artist. And my avocation’s to love you. And my mission is to expose to the world Ian Vance and Exocorp and their association with the Oneiroi. I’m not sure I have time for any more callings.”
“Just as well. I know how dedicated you are to your art. As you should be. As for the rest—well, my desire to bring down Vance and Exocorp matches your own. And I do plan to keep you quite busy with that avocation of yours.”
“I hope so. I’d hate to think my dedication was one-sided.”
“It isn’t. You know how much I love you, Karen. At least I hope you do.”
“I know. It’s the one thing I’m certain of in the midst of all the madness.”
“And the one thing you’ll always have.” Mark pulled her closer to his side.
“Happily.” Karen fell silent. It was enough to feel his body next to hers. She’d once believed herself unlucky in love, but that supposition had been proven wrong. Her luck had just come a little later than expected.
“Yes, we’re lucky in that,” Mark said. Karen smiled at his instinctive mirroring of her thoughts.
Dream Journal, June 5th:
I moved silently through bleak halls. All of the surfaces around me were metallic, creating a cold, clinical atmosphere. Several dark figures passed me, indistinct as shadows.
“I remember this place. I’ve been here before, haven’t I?” I asked the figures as they passed. But they didn’t respond. They didn’t even appear to notice me.
I wandered the halls until I found a flight of stairs that led down to an open area housing computer stations and other pieces of equipment. Some type of laboratory.
At the far end of the room I noticed a large screen. It was blank. I walked forward, recalling when I was here before I hadn’t been allowed to enter this lab.
The area was deserted but littered with reminders of recent activity. I found an empty cup sitting next to one console, a jacket draped across the back of a chair, and a small computer tablet lying on a counter. I picked up the tablet and realized it was still active. When I touched the screen it sprang to life, displaying specifications for an intricate machine. I stared at the renderings for several minutes before I realized they matched sketches I’d recently drawn while sleepwalking.
“Karen Foster,” said a voice behind me. “Why have you returned to this place?”
I turned to face a slender, dark-haired man. He was familiar to me. He was one of the Oneiroi’s avatars.
“I don’t know. I’m looking for something.”
The man’s strange dark eyes surveyed me with interest. “You will not find it here.”
“No?” I walked over to face him. “But I thought this might be the place…”
“It was,” the man said. “But, as you see, there is nothing of yours here.”
I held up the tablet. “These drawings. They’re mine.”
“Are they? I do not think they were created by your mind, although perhaps your hand executed them.”
“More of your communications, then? I thought the Oneiroi had finally decided to talk with me directly instead of passing cryptic messages through my dreams.”
The man shook his head. “It was not one of us who sent that information to you.”
I understood the implication of his words. “Alex.”
“Yes, Alex Wythe. He has spoken to you often, I think, through your dreams.”
I turned to look at the jacket draped over the chair. “He was here.”
“Until recently.”
“But no longer?”
“I am not sure. I do not sense it, but then, I am no more truly present than you are, Karen Foster.”
“It’s Hallam.”
“Ah, yes. I was informed of that change.” He eyed me quizzically. “Are you still determined to reveal us to your world, Karen Foster Hallam?”
“I am.” I met his gaze and held it for a moment. “Does that concern you?”
“Not at all. But it should concern you. It is a dangerous path.”
“It may be, but it’s one I’m determined to walk. And I’m no longer alone.”
“We are aware of that.” A faint smile flickered across his face. “You have collected some interesting companions.”
“And again, this doesn’t concern you?” I lifted the jacket from the back of the chair.
“No. But then, I am not averse to your revelations.”
I clutched the jacket to my chest and looked back at him. “You’re a friend of Alice?”
“Friend?” He stood silently for a moment, lost in thought. “Ah, yes, I suppose that is what you would say, in your languages. A friend.”
“Don’t the others know you speak with me, you and Alice and your other … friends? Alice told me there are many who oppose you.”
“They are not yet aware of such conversations. It would not enter their minds that we would wish to do such a thing.”
“Talk to such inferior creatures, you mean.”
“Just so.” The man stepped back, his alien eyes never leaving my face. “It is time for you to leave this place, Karen Foster Hallam. I believe you know how to do so.”
“I do.” I lifted the jacket to my face. It held no scent of its wearer. “Where’s Alex Wythe now? Do you know?”
&nb
sp; “I am not sure, but I know that he was planning to leave us. I believe Alice was willing to assist him in that endeavor. It is, you understand,” the man said, with a trace of pity in his eyes, “a very risky operation.”
“For Alex?” I felt something tighten around my heart.
“For all of us,” said the dark-haired man. “At least those who would support such an effort.” He was fading in front of me.
“And you would?”
“I would. As someday, I expect, I will be called upon to assist you.”
I bent my head in acknowledgement before he disappeared. “I thank you for that. And I hope,” I said, knowing that though no longer present he could still hear me, “I’ll be able, someday, to help you.”
“It is quite likely such a thing will happen.” The man’s words rang in my head. “You are bound to us now, Karen Foster Hallam, by such probabilities.”
“And by friendship,” I said, although the scene had melted into a plain white box of a room. I didn’t know if he’d heard my last remark, or if it would mean anything to him.
I woke in my bed, with Mark sleeping beside me. I turned and placed my arms about him, drawing comfort from the steady waves of his breathing.
TWO
The following day Karen struggled with packing, her actions hampered by the large tabby cat sitting in the middle of her suitcase. Karen lifted the cat and placed her on the blanket piled at the foot of the bed.
“You’re not coming with us, Kate. You’d better come to grips with that concept.”
Mark walked into the bedroom. “I hate to tell you this, but you need to switch out those clothes. Archuleta Mesa isn’t Albuquerque or even Santa Fe. It’s actually closer to Colorado.”
“It’s not beach-weather warm?”
“No, I’m afraid not. Pleasant but not hot, and the nights can turn cool.”
Karen sighed and lifted her shorts and sundresses out of the suitcase. “Well, there goes my plan for packing light. I suppose I need a jacket and jeans? That’s going to put a crimp in my ability to take art supplies.”
“Sorry.” Mark dragged his own luggage from the closet. “But I think you can squeeze in a sketchbook and some pencils or pastels. If you need more room you can always use part of my suitcase. I don’t think I’ll pack too much for this trip, as there shouldn’t be any need for suits or other dress clothes.”
“So what’s the deal with this monitoring of Myron, anyway? Are you supposed to be shutting him down?”
“No, no.” Mark folded and tucked his clothes into the suitcase with a skill that betrayed practice at traveling on short notice. “I’m just charged with keeping an eye on him and making sure the groups gathering around the mesa don’t get too large or out of control. Not that I’m really worried, to be honest. Myron manages his followers quite well.”
A phone rang somewhere in the bedroom. “I think that’s yours,” Karen said, as she gathered up jeans and a sweater.
Mark swept his cell phone from the top of the dresser. He answered with his full name, obviously expecting an official call, but his manner instantly changed.
“Hello, Claire,” he said. “Yes, of course I’ve seen it on the news.”
Mark’s sister. Karen paused in her packing. She had her suspicions as to why Claire was phoning so early in the morning.
“Well, I’m actually being sent to New Mexico to investigate the matter, so I’ll be able to check on that.” Mark’s expression grew more serious. “I’m sorry to hear that, Claire. You’re probably best to keep her away from the television and internet for a time.” He looked at Karen and mouthed the name Amy.
Amy was Mark’s fifteen-year-old niece. Less than a year earlier, she’d been abducted by the Oneiroi’s scientific research machines—the infamous little gray men—and still suffered from nightmares.
“I know, but there isn’t much else you can do, I’m afraid. You could contact Lee Oshima and his abductees’ group if Amy really needs to talk with someone.” Mark listened intently for a few more minutes before speaking again. “We’ll do whatever we can, Claire. I promise. Now, don’t worry. Amy’s tough, and she’ll be fine. Just let her talk to Lee if she needs more support. I’ll call you from New Mexico.” He told Claire to give Amy their love before saying goodbye.
“Son of a bitch,” he said as soon as he laid down his phone. He sat on the bed and dropped his head in his hands.
“Is Amy very upset?” Karen tossed an armful of clothes into her suitcase and sat next to him.
“Terrified.” Mark lifted his head and stared blankly across the room. “I’ll never forgive Ian Vance for that. I suspect he ordered her abduction just to send me a message—back off the investigation of Exocorp, or else.”
“But we aren’t backing off.” Karen placed her hand on his arm. “So his warning was futile.”
“Yet Amy still has to pay the price.”
“All the more reason to continue our attempts to expose him. He and his backers and their secretive company with its ties to the Oneiroi. They all need to be brought down.”
“Yes, indeed, they do.” Mark patted her hand. “Well, let’s finish packing. Tickets are waiting for us at the airport, so the sooner we get there the better.”
Karen rose to her feet. “Any particular flight?”
“Any one we choose.”
“That’s convenient. How did you manage that?”
“Governmental privilege. Sometimes comes in handy.” Mark stood and walked over to the dresser.
“Are we bumping some poor unsuspecting souls off their scheduled flight?”
“Probably. But orders are orders. Now,” Mark said, pulling out a few pairs of socks, “I’m going to finish here and call the pet-sitter.”
“Oh, right. We’ll need someone to check on Kate.”
Hearing her name, the cat lifted her head and stared balefully at Karen.
“Yes, we must make sure she’s in good hands.” Mark reached down to stroke Kate’s silky fur. “Don’t want to come home to a pissed-off cat.”
Karen laughed. “You really think she won’t be angry with us for leaving her, pet-sitter or no pet-sitter? How little you know about cats, my dear.”
“Well, cats and women,” Mark said affably, “both easily irritated and equally inscrutable.” He ducked as Karen chucked a pillow at him.
At the airport Karen waited as Mark negotiated with a manager at the ticket counter. When Mark displayed an ID and a printed email, the manager’s attitude change from haughty disdain to bright and smiling assistance. The manager even walked around to lift their checked baggage onto the scales.
“How do you do that?” Karen asked as they walked away from the counter with just their carry-on bags and ticket packets.
“Official paperwork.” Mark smiled. “More powerful than any weapon.”
“I see. Fear of reprisal if they tick off one of the government’s own.” Karen glanced up at him. “You’re a handy man to have around, aren’t you?”
“So you say.” Mark flashed a wicked grin. “Very handy sometimes.”
Karen laughed and linked her arm with his. “Not that you’ll catch me complaining.”
“I should hope not. Look, I need to make a couple of calls, somewhere a little more private. Why don’t you locate our gate and wait for me there?”
“Very well, but if I get trapped at security you’ll have to rescue me.”
“Oh, you won’t.” Mark leaned down to give her a quick kiss. “Now, go. I’ll catch up with you shortly.”
As Mark had predicted, Karen’s ticket, with the special notation from the state department, allowed her to move swiftly through security, although the screener looked her over carefully, as if surprised by her casual appearance. Karen walked to the gate, noting only thirty minutes remained until their departure. As she wandered up and down, waiting for Mark to arrive, she noticed a distinctive individual standing in the shadows near a closed storefront. A slender, pale man wearing a dark suit. A black h
at was pulled down low on his forehead. He leaned against the metal gate blocking the entrance to the empty store, apparently oblivious to the crowds milling around him. But when Karen drew closer he pushed back his hat and stared directly at her. His eyes possessed an odd quality Karen instantly recognized—very dark, the large irises surrounded by too little white. He was one of the Oneiroi’s avatars, one of the physical beings created by the aliens to act as their ambassadors on Earth. The actual Oneiroi who controlled him did so from afar, light-years away, through a sophisticated version of virtual reality.
Curious despite a glimmer of fear, Karen walked over to the man. “Hello. Are you here to speak with me?”
“Yes, Karen Foster. I have a message for you.”
“It’s Karen Foster Hallam. And you are?”
“Douglas.” He regarded her steadily. “I apologize. I should have remembered your new name. You and I have spoken before, although not under these circumstances.”
“In my dreams, you mean.” Karen examined him more closely. “I think, perhaps, we drew a tree together?”
“Yes, that was one of our encounters. I am also a friend, if you will, of Alice.”
“Ah, I see.” Karen had significant experience with the avatar called Alice. “What does Alice want to tell me, Douglas?”
“That she will see you soon.” Douglas spoke in the neutral tone Karen had come to expect from the Oneiroi’s ambassadors. “And she is pleased that you are traveling with your husband to Archuleta Mesa.”
“Good to know I have her approval,” Karen said, with a little smile. “Is there some special reason she wants me there?”
“I do not know,” Douglas admitted. “But she was most insistent you go. I was to convince you to follow Mark Hallam to New Mexico if you were not already traveling with him today.”
How strange. Why would Alice want her involved? But then, why did Alice do anything? Karen shrugged. “Well, as you see, there’s no need for that. Tell Alice I’ll be there soon. Not exactly sure where we’ll be staying, but I imagine Alice will find me if she wants to, wherever we are.”
“Yes, she will.” Douglas pulled his hat back down so that it shadowed his strange eyes. “We may meet again, Karen Foster Hallam. I am also traveling to that location.”
