The Dream Catcher Diaries

by Alexander Patrick

  ‘Betrayed my own kind?’ he spat out. ‘I have nothing in common with whores and sodomites.’ He stopped and spun around. He tried to move, but Angus had him.

  ‘Find out what he knows,’ I whispered. ‘We need to know if there are any more.’

  I got up and pulled my crutches to me. Stewart rushed to help. ‘Use the breaking irons,’ I said. ‘He’s used them before; he knows what they’re like.’ He may never have worn them, but I knew he’d put them on others. I saw it in his eyes when I mentioned them. I left the room.

  ***********************

  Angus was sounding pleased with himself. ‘We put the breaking irons on,’ he said. ‘He wept like a baby as soon as he saw them. By the time we’d stripped him, he’d pissed himself.’ He stopped and looked at me. ‘You were right; he’s put them on others. He knew what they would feel like, he’s heard others scream.’ He waited for me to say something.

  ‘I trust you only used the force necessary to get what you wanted,’ I said.

  Angus hesitated. I’d been sitting in my room at the club, waiting for the report, gazing into the wall opposite me, a dirty stained wall, thinking of Tanya and other things. I turned now to Angus for the first time. He looked how he sounded: smug. ‘Bràithreachas will not stand for injustice,’ I said. ‘Always remember that.’

  Angus scowled. ‘Tanya’s death demands justice,’ he said. ‘And, yes, the bastard talked without too much trouble. He’s named three other traitors in the organisation.’

  ‘Do you believe him?’

  ‘Aye, I do.’

  That was when we fell out because I didn’t.

  If I were about to die at the hands of my enemy, I would do one last thing to put a smile on my face, even if I could never let them see my smile. I would name loyal members as traitors and take them with me. That is what I would do, and I believed that Omar would do the same.

  Angus reluctantly let me question the three named traitors. I spoke to each one. I knew one to be honest, one to be a traitor and one could have been either. Angus didn’t believe me. He executed all three. I was furious.

  I made Angus tell Omar what he’d done, and I watched Omar’s reaction. I knew for certain then that I had been right for at least one of them. Even Angus knew; even Angus saw the look of triumph in Omar’s eyes.

  He executed Omar shortly after. I hoped it made him feel better.

  After the execution, Angus came up to me. I looked at him for a short while. Angus began to talk. ‘I had to be sure,’ he said. ‘Too much is at stake. We can’t afford to take chances.’

  I stood up in the middle of his excuses. ‘Matrix doesn’t need you. I’m finished with you.’

  He was amazed. ‘What?’

  ‘If I cannot have your trust, then I have nothing. You were wrong in this, and you didn’t need to be. You must trust Matrix or we’re finished. You’ve killed at least one good man, maybe two. No excuses. You’re not forgiven.’

  This was our darkest moment. I walked out, and I meant it. The whole revolution was about to end before it had begun because I felt I had chosen the wrong man to be my general. I had expected more of him. As I walked out, I said one last thing to him. ‘Bràithreachas will not stand for injustice – always remember that.’

  ***********************

  Angus came to visit me at my house. He formally asked my forgiveness. He took his knife, cut his arm and pledged his blood to Matrix once more. I had no choice. People’s lives were at stake. I hoped he had learned – so much depended on it.

  I took his oath once more, but not until I had tried to make him understand.

  ‘You think this is so easy,’ I said. ‘You think you can recognise the bad from the good, the virtuous from the wicked. When the time comes, you’ll find it’s not so easy.’

  He shook his head. ‘I made a mistake this once. I accept that. You have the gift for seeing into people’s hearts, and I knew that. It’s one of the reasons I’m pledged to you. I should’ve listened.’

  ‘Then listen to me now. We can’t destroy them all. We can’t eradicate the disease completely. We’ll have to learn not just how to fight, but how to forgive.’

  ‘No! If we do that then we betray your people. We betray the discards!’

  ‘Angus, who are my people?’

  ‘The discards.’

  ‘Is that all? What about your brother and people like him?’

  ‘Aye, them too.’

  ‘And those people under threat because of the God they worship or the colour of their skin?’

  ‘Aye, them as well; you’re right, I should have said the substrata.’

  ‘Remember this when the time comes. Remember who my people are and then decide who we forgive and who we kill.’

  He didn’t understand, not then, not until the end.

  Angus had a distance yet to travel. He failed to appreciate the paradox of Matrix: that I was the God of the substrata, the God of the very people who had tortured and abused me. I belonged to them as much as I belonged to anyone, and so I had to forgive them. In this I had no choice.

  Chapter 75

  Elijah was a bad boy. I had made the assumption that he had been sectioned because he was an amputee; in fact, he had triple rating. He could technically be sectioned three times. He claimed four; he said everybody hated the Jews so that must be worth sectioning. I told him he was just being greedy.

  When Elijah was nine years old, his father died. His mother was left to bring up a sensible daughter and a son who quickly turned wild without the firm guidance of a father. His mother indulged him too much and did nothing to curb his natural tendency to experiment, take risks and push the boundaries. Elijah was trouble at school, at college – where he trained to be a heating engineer – at home and at the synagogue. By the time he had reached the end of his teens, he had a reputation as a young man with attitude and one who was heading for trouble.

  He had two minor convictions; one more conviction under the three strike rule meant a prison sentence. His poor mother despaired and so did other mothers. Elijah was popular with his peers. His cheeky smile and wicked sense of humour endeared him to men and women alike. He was considered a bad influence. No mother wanted her child to have anything to do with him.

  He was twenty years old when his life and society finally caught up with him. He’d been out drinking with his friends. He was drunk, so were they, and they were walking home in the early hours of the morning when he spotted the car. It belonged to a rich man who was known to be a vicious anti-Semite. Elijah saw the car sitting on the drive of a large house. It was a beautiful beast, long, powerful and shining new.

  His friends started teasing him about the man who owned the car, reminding him of some of the things this man was reported to have said about Jews. They knew well enough that their flippant friend had another side to him. They had known that at school he had sometimes got himself into trouble simply because he had a temper matched only by his sense of outrage at a perceived injustice. Elijah cared about things.

  He was drunk. He was being teased, being reminded about who he was and what he was. He broke into the car. He meant only to sit in it, perhaps vandalise it; instead, he managed to get the thing going. He started the engine up. As soon as the engine roared into life his friends fled the scene. The engine set off an alarm both inside the car and house. Lights flashed, sirens wailed and people came running out. Elijah put his foot down. He drove the car out of the man’s drive, down the street and into a wall. He was said to be travelling at speed. He remembers only lights, noise, a flash of pain and then darkness and numbness.

  When he opened his eyes he was in hospital. They’d had to amputate both legs just below the knees. It was as he lay in his hospital bed realising what a fool he had been all his life that his sister came to visit. She came only once, and that was to inform him that their mother had died of a heart attack and he was on his own now.

  He was sent to prison. He was sentenced to two years, but served six mo
nths. He was too much like hard work for the prison staff. He came under Section Twenty-six as an offender, a disabled man and an orphan. Therefore, social care took responsibility for him and, to his great relief, came to the prison and offered him a new home and a new life. He felt he had been given a second chance to make amends for what he’d done. His sister was not the only one to blame him for their mother’s death. He was stricken with remorse. He gladly signed the release papers that gave social care complete jurisdiction over him.

  He was taken to a holding pen, given a new name and identity and sent to his new home after just two days. He was sent to Spider and Amos.

  This was Elijah’s story.

  ***********************

  Elijah suffered from nightmares, so I suggested he write them down as I had done. This was what he was doing one afternoon in his room when Sonia came and sat down next to me. Caitlin was also upstairs in her room, drawing. We had little chance to be alone together now that the house was so full.

  ‘I want to join the Brotherhood,’ she said.

  ‘No.’ I didn’t look up.

  ‘The General said yes.’

  ‘Stuff the General.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I still haven’t forgiven him.’

  She sat and waited patiently for me to become more reasonable. Eventually I looked up. ‘It’s too dangerous. It’s all too dangerous. I need you to be safe.’

  She smiled. ‘Is that because you’re going to marry me?’

  I blushed. This was the first time she’d mentioned it since I’d come home with Caitlin. I couldn’t believe that Caitlin had not talked to her about it. I gazed at her. I found that a pleasant thing to do. ‘It was the only way I could get her to agree to come with me,’ I said. ‘She’s very fond of you.’

  ‘And what about you, David? Do you feel anything for me at all?’

  ‘Sure I do.’

  ‘Do I need to work on my signing skills to find out?’

  I smiled at her – so Elijah had passed on the message. ‘We can’t get married; I need an IDC for that, and I don’t have one.’

  She took my hand in hers. ‘And afterwards - when all this is over? Aren’t you going to get one then?’ She watched me intently.

  I had no intention of lying to her. I was too fond of her for that. ‘I don’t believe I’m going to survive this.’

  ‘You mean you don’t intend to survive it.’

  ‘No, that’s not what I mean,’ I squeezed her hand. ‘You and Caitlin have given me a reason to live, but it’s too late now. The course has been set. Matrix is not going to survive.’

  ‘That’s not true; it doesn’t have to be that way. Why can’t you survive?’

  ‘I can. It’s Matrix who must die.’

  ‘I’m not interested in Matrix; it’s you I want.’

  ‘And you want to join the Brotherhood?’

  She pulled her hand out of mine. ‘Don’t twist my words. It’s not fair.’

  I was silent for a while. I pulled her hand back to me. ‘I’ve always been cursed with the ability to see into men’s hearts. More than anything, it’s what’s defined me.’ I shrugged my shoulders. ‘I could never work it with women – women like you, I mean. As soon as sex or love came on the scene, my insight disappeared.’ I reached up and touched her face. ‘Sonia, I love you.’

  She gave a quick intake of breath and held my hand tightly in hers.

  I carried on. ‘But Matrix can’t survive this war – and you can be sure I’m talking about war. People will die, but I have no intention of letting those I love die. It’s the only thing that sustains me – knowing that you’ll be safe when all of this is over.’

  ‘I still don’t see ...’

  I forestalled her. ‘Matrix can’t survive. It’s not the way it’ll happen. It’s not the way it’ll be allowed to happen.’ I reached out and touched the small silver cross that she always wore around her neck. ‘They’ll want to crucify the new messiah,’ I said simply.

  ‘No!’ she sobbed – and, at last, she understood.

  ***********************

  Sonia became a Blood Brother – or a Blood Sister, as she called herself. It was the least I could do for her.

  Angus was delighted. He stood with his arms crossed and a smug smile on his face as she fell down on her knees before Matrix and swore her allegiance.

  Chapter 76

  People work in offices, shops, hospitals, schools and colleges. They teach, serve, nurse and work machines. They get on with their lives without ever looking up. They haven’t got time for that. They are only concerned with whatever affects them directly, whatever touches their lives, their families, their hopes, fears and aspirations. Anything else is none of their business. They keep focused, looking ahead.

  Fuck everyone else.

  People work in offices, shops, hospitals, schools and colleges – and they lift up their eyes, and they notice for the first time. They notice who is in charge, who is in favour, who is where they want to be, where they thought they would be. Suddenly, it is their concern.

  They have taken notice. They start to listen. They are listening still. We are whispering in their ears. We have spoken the truth and opened their eyes.

  Now they are waiting for the call.

  ***********************

  January 2040

  I looked around the plush apartment. ‘I didn’t realise politics paid so well,’ I said with some admiration.

  She smiled. ‘What would you like to drink?’

  ‘A large whisky, please.’

  ‘I thought your family never drank whisky.’

  ‘Well remembered.’

  She hesitated for a moment and then poured me a small one. She reminded me of Sonia. She passed my glass to me; it was full of ice; I hated my whisky spoiled by ice. ‘Thank you,’ I said meekly.

  She sat down opposite me. ‘You haven’t changed,’ she said.

  ‘Really? I wish my mirror felt the same.’

  She stared into her glass of water with its splash of whisky. ‘I’ve read your notes,’ she said.

  ‘And?’

  ‘What do you want from me?’

  ‘Your support.’

  ‘I gathered that, but what does that actually mean?’

  ‘Did you know that this was happening?’

  ‘Don’t you think I would have done something about it if I had?’

  ‘Well, you know now.’

  ‘I’ll start lobbying, make enquiries, verify facts ...’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, stop talking like a politician.’

  ‘Well, that’s what I am.’

  ‘You were once a police officer – or have you forgotten?’

  ‘My husband makes sure I don’t. By the way, he doesn’t know I’m meeting you.’

  ‘Would it be so bad if he did?’

  She grimaced. ‘He’s a bit old-fashioned about this sort of thing. He wouldn’t approve.’

  ‘He might offer to help.’

  ‘He’s a rising star in the police force. He’s well thought of, well respected. You know he’s away for the weekend?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Of course you do. But do you know where?’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Only at the house of one of the richest men in Europe: a man by the name of Henry Fuller. Do you know him?’

  ‘He sells animal feed.’

  She laughed. ‘And the rest.’

  ‘So why weren’t you invited, as a rising star in politics, I mean?’

  She laughed again. ‘Wrong sex and wrong politics.’

  ‘Bad luck.’

  ‘So, what do you want?’

  ‘I want your support when the moment comes. Your support and that of your party, and I don’t want the army involved.’

  She gasped. ‘You don’t want much!’

  ‘If this is to succeed then the army must be held back, and someone credible must be waiting to take over. That’s you and your party.’

  ‘
And why should I?’

  ‘If the moral argument doesn’t sway you, try your career. Do you want to spend all of it in opposition?’

  ‘And you think supporting terrorists would gain me power?’

  ‘Is that how you see me?’

  ‘To be quite frank, yes. You plan to overthrow the government and the entire establishment, including the police, the criminal justice and social service departments – and God knows what else. You’re talking about people dying. I’m sorry, but that doesn’t sound like the rule of law and order, more like anarchy.’

  ‘So, what do you stand for?’

  ‘Law and order, obviously.’

  ‘Even if that means people are being tortured and dying.’

  ‘I’ve seen the reports in the media. It seems to me that your Brotherhood is no better than New Fabian. I’ve seen the pictures of those bodies.’

  ‘We didn’t do that, Fabian did.’

  ‘You would say that, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Since I was very nearly one of those bodies, then, yes, I would. Do you really doubt me?’

  She sighed. ‘No, I don’t really doubt you, just your methods for solving the problem.’

  ‘So, what would you do?’

  ‘Use the democratic systems already in place. I’ll be your advocate but nothing more. It’s not just my career I’m worried about ... but my husband; he deserves more from me than that. I have to look after his interests as well as my own.’

  She was lying; for a politician, she lied badly. ‘Don’t you think he would want a police force free from Fabian?’ I pressed.

  ‘I don’t see how your method would achieve that either.’

  ‘I have a list.’

  ‘What sort of list?’

  I smiled. ‘One that tells me those who I can trust and those who I should, well ...’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘Kill ...?’

  ‘Detain.’

  She shook her head adamantly now. ‘No. You have my support. I’ll keep quiet about this conversation, but that’s as far as it goes. I’ll not help you bring this country to its knees. I’ll not destroy everything I hold dear.’

  I stood up. ‘What if everything you hold dear is corrupt?’ I asked.