Dreamer

by Dave Gordon

  Van watched Siln slump down, limp and vacant. He didn't know the first thing about her. How could he? How could he understand the isolation and fear. His prolonged space voyage had not been particularly fearful. Tortuous, maybe, but not fraught with mortal danger.

  “Well, you have me now and as long as you do, you'll be safe,” he said.

  Siln roused up and straightened herself. She gave Van a sly, sideways look saying, “Yeah, you're a real catch alright.” She let out a laugh.

  “Okay, very funny. What are we going to do here?” he asked.

  Siln was working the navigation panel more intently now. “We are going to get checked out, get some decent clothes, hit a pleasure parlor, and split.”

  “Pleasure parlor?” Van asked.

  “Oh, yeah. You are going to like it,” Siln exclaimed, shooting him an excited look. “I actually got into one once on Gamma Epsilon Three. They sure don't have a shortage of water here, you will be able to take a real shower. Maybe we can find you a nice, friendly girl. Hell, maybe one for me, too. Then we are going to eat real food and drink real booze.” Seeing Van's hurt look, she said, “Hey! Seven is great! But we'll get all kinds of stuff here. Maybe you can get some samples to work with.”

  It was a bit much for Van to take in. The girl part interested him. “Alright, I'll just follow you around.”

  Siln dropped to about two-hundred feet and slowed as they flew over land. She dropped another hundred feet and slowed to a crawl. The maw of a cavernous landing bay loomed ahead. Siln entered ten feet above the deck. She landed with an almost imperceptible bump.

  “Sit tight while I say hello.”

  A group of ten men approached the ship. Siln dropped the forward passenger ramp at the rear of the crew cabin. The men stopped with weapons readied.

  “Siln During and Van Ellen request debark.” Siln's voice was even and confidant.

  Van couldn't see the men but Siln turned around and waved him out. The troops flanked the ramp with arms at rest. Van looked at them, curious about their uniforms and weapons.

  Siln spoke in a hushed voice. “Look straight ahead and walk.”

  Van followed Siln's lead as they exited the monstrous bay, she turned to him and said, “Don't look at them. That's like a challenge. They get spooked easy. That's bad.”

  “What were they?”

  “Forces. They're everywhere. Just try to do what I do.”

  They walked through several long corridors. They approached a large, reinforced double-door. Siln stopped ten feet short of the door.

  “This will be bright. You are used to ship lighting which is a lot dimmer than daylight. Squint,” Siln said.

  They walked forward. The door slid open silently. Van was practically pushed over by the intense light. Siln grabbed his arm and led him down a bustling street for several blocks. Van eventually opened his eyes. He realized he had never been outside on Lambda One. He had not been outside for three hundred years. He looked up and was overwhelmed by vertigo. He began stumbling and Siln grabbed his arm.

  “Hey!” she shouted, “No trips to dream land while we're here.”

  “I'm sorry. I just realized I haven't been outside since I landed.”

  “Really? What did they do, keep you in a cage?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Okay, take it easy. There's a lodging unit just up there.”

  Van looked up the street but couldn't make out the lodging unit amidst the signs and traffic. Even though the gliders were silent, the street was calamitous. The activity was dizzying. People rushed by with looks of worry or concentration, some laughing, all with a purpose. Van considered his purpose. He had no purpose. His function in society was decorative. He laughed at the thought. Siln gave his arm a sharp jerk and looked at him. She's worried I'll drift off, he thought. That's all I am, he thought, a worry, a concern. What is a life without a purpose? He worried that he might never have a purpose again. A passer by bumped into him and apologized over his shoulder as he rushed along his way. All I am is a lump for people to trip over, he thought as he fell deeper into gloom. He had set out upon his journey to further mankind's progress and had become a burden instead.

  Van lurched from side to side as Siln ushered him forward. She led him to a building that rose into the sky and out of sight. Entering all of Van's dreary thoughts were dispelled in an instant. He was struck dumb at the sight of the sumptuous interior.

  Columns of green crystal rose from the floor to the ceiling far above them. Lights suspended in midair sparkled like diamonds. Rich diamond glass flooring of swirling ocean waves spread across the room. Delicate glowing silhouettes of sea creatures seemed to swim slowly across the floor. Thick drapes with drifting clouds of white and grey covered the walls.

  Van was still gaping at the surroundings as Siln approached the desk. Holographic art work danced about the room in the space above their heads. Expansive vistas of stunning landscapes, renderings of masterful paintings, wild animals that seemed to charge into nothingness, the effect was breathtaking.

  “One luxury suite,” Siln said to the aloof desk clerk. She held out her arm and then pulled Van's arm over the desk. “Wake up,” she whispered hoarsely.

  The clerk hesitated, apparently baffled by the two shabby customers in common jumpsuits. Siln cocked an eye at her making the clerk snap out of her confused state. She quickly handed Siln a block of metal.

  “Three-hundred-twenty,” she said.

  Siln shoved the block back to the clerk and said, “One.”

  The clerk was obviously conflicted about the statement.

  Siln leveled a hard stare at the woman and said, “Check the financials.”

  The woman punched through several screens and gasped. She quickly reached under counter and produced another block. “Two-hundred-one, Ms. During,” she said with a smile.

  Siln held her with a pointed look until the clerk began to squirm. She took the block and said, “Thank you.”

  Siln pulled Van towards the lift, “I hope we don't have to go through that crap every time we want something. We have to get new clothes.” Van was staring at the holographs with his mouth open. She was afraid he might start drooling and gave his arm another sharp jerk, hissing through clenched teeth, “Will you try to stay conscious for one more minute.”

  The walls of the lift were transparent. They seemed to float weightlessly through the ceiling, rising through the structure with no sensation of movement. The lift stopped and Siln stepped out into the richly-carpeted hall, walked to the end of the hall dragging Van behind and stopped before a door emblazoned with a big red one. She held up the metal block and said, “Say hello to your money.”

  She opened the door. Van had never been in a room such as the one before him. The entire wall opposite the door was diamond glass. The expansive window looked out over the city, with a large bay glistened in the distance. A pool of heated water recessed into the pristine white carpet nestled in front of the window. Sumptuous circular seating areas encircling the back of the pool were recessed into the floor. Every fixture, every recess, every decoration was tastefully rich. Not ostentatious, but glowing with the aura of wealth. Several chairs rose up from the floor when Siln put her hand over an embossed icon on the wall. Their cloud-like appearance lured Van in and. He fell into one and was buoyed by the comforting softness. A hallway to the left held several doors that Van assumed were bedrooms and a bathroom. Holographic artwork floated throughout the room. A holographic figure dressed as a waiter approached them.

  “Ms. During and Mr. Ellen, I do hope the inconvenience at our front desk will be forgiven. Our clerk's unforgivable manners have resulted in her termination.”

  Siln was horrified. There were places where termination was a euphemism for a death sentence. “Oh no, please! It was just a mistake. Please don't terminate her, we would regret it deeply.” That was a euphemism for we'll go someplace else.

  The hologram said, “As you wish. How may we serve?”

 
Siln thought about it. “Bring us two of the most expensive meals you have and a box of Gamma Beta Three ale.”

  “Our pleasure,” the hologram responded and it retreated to the corner.

  Siln stripped off her clothes and got into the bath.

  Van paid little attention to Siln's naked form. He had seen Siln naked more often than he had seen all the women he knew put together. Van undressed and stepped into the soothing, warm water.

  A bell sounded. “Come in,” Siln shouted.

  A smartly dressed young man entered and froze when he saw the two figures in the tub. Van turned and saw the shocked look on the young man's face.

  Van was embarrassed for the young man who stood blushing just inside the open door. “Give him something, Siln,” Van said.

  “What's your name?” Siln asked without turning around.

  “Hastings, Ms. During.”

  “Authorize one-hundred commons, Hastings,” she spoke into the air.

  “Confirm one-hundred commons Hastings,” the room intercom answered.

  “Confirm,” Siln said. “Put the food on the table behind us.”

  The waiter was stunned. One hundred commons was more than he had made in the last month. He was unable to move.

  “If you are waiting for an invitation to get in the tub with us, you will have to walk around where I can get a good look at you.” She glanced at Van with an impish grin on her face.

  “Oh, no, Ms. During. I mean, no thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” He deposited the tray on the table and backed out of the room, bowing and thanking all the way.

  Siln began laughing as she got out of the tub. “Man, being rich is fun. I saw his reflection in the window. He almost fell over when I gave him a hundred.”

  “Is that a lot?” Van asked.

  “Oh yeah, that's a lot. He's probably never gotten a tip that big. That's probably more than anyone here has ever gotten.” Siln was still chuckling as she brought the large tray around to the front of the bath and set it on the floor.

  He looked at the plate of food. The dinner was fish and vegetables. There was a desert tray with nicely decorated crèmes, a pie, and some kind of pastry. A square box wrapped in gold foil sat on the tray. Van began picking at the food. That was when he realized he had not eaten any real food for three-hundred years. He leaned forward in the tub, exposing his rear end, and set upon devouring the plate of food.

  “That's not your best side,” Siln said as she did the same thing.

  They ate the entire meal, including all the deserts. Van collapsed back into the water as he finished the last of the pie. He caused a wave that sent the water sloshing out onto the carpet. Siln was still leaning over her plate with her bottom up in the air. “I'm afraid that is your best side,” he said to Siln.

  “Screw you,” she said through a mouthful of pie. She pulled the gold box into the tub. Van looked at her perplexed. She said, “You are going to love this stuff. We need to take a bottle back to the ship so you can duplicate it.” She unwrapped the gold foil box carefully. She took two brown bottles out and handed one to Van. “Press the top down, like this.” She demonstrated how to open the bottle and she took a big drink. “Oh, I never thought I would see this stuff again.”

  Van opened his bottle and took a sip. It was very fine ale. Light yet full flavored. Delicately carbonated. A multitude of flavors came forth. Aged wood, dark grain, fresh hops. It was all there, all the best of all ales. He tipped the bottle up and drained it.

  “Jeemany! Do you always hit everything as hard as you can before you know what it does?” Siln asked in disbelief.

  “Why?” Van was feeling a little woozy.

  “Get out of the tub before you drown, I won't be able to lift you.”

  Van couldn't process what Siln had said. Something about get out. He tried to obey but got high-centered on the edge and was unable to move.

  “Close enough,” Siln said. She got out of the tub. Her body sagged as if disappointed about leaving the water. Siln grabbed the stylish drying wand from its round container set into the floor and starting waving it across her body. When she was dry, she walked to the window and said, “Service.”

  The holographic butler approached.

  “Display clothing, women's.” A display of various pieces and styles of clothing appeared in front of her. “Size,” she said. A red beam swept down her from head to toe.

  “Size confirmed,” the butler said.

  The screen began displaying garments. She put her finger through the image when something caught her eye. She picked out a couple of outfits and said, “Something loose and conservative for zombie man over there.”

  A red beam scanned Van. “Size not verified,” the butler said.

  “Well, give it you best guess.”

  The butler hesitated. It said, “Fees may reflect custom fitting.”

  “I don't care how much it cost, just get it up here.” She was really enjoying the rich thing.

  “Right away, Ms. During.” The butler returned to the corner and was silent.

  Siln sat naked on the couch enjoying creature comforts of a sort she had never experienced before. A half an hour later the door bell rang.

  “Come in,” she shouted, suddenly realizing she probably didn't have to shout.

  Three room service attendants entered holding four pieces of clothing each.

  “Word really gets around, doesn't it?” silently laughing at the anxious, expectant attendants.

  “Yes, Ms. During,” the young woman chirped.

  “Alright, but after this I'm done with the tip thing,” she said. “Authorize one-hundred commons, Hastings.”

  “Confirm one-hundred commons Hastings,” the intercom said. Hastings beamed almost to bursting.

  “Confirm. Confirm one-hundred commons,” Siln said and pointed to the next waited.

  “Enyard,” the young woman said, too excited to stand still.

  Siln confirmed the transaction. She went through the same process for the last waiter and told them not to triple-team her again.

  “Oh, no, Ms During!” Hastings said with an impossibly big grin.

  “Okay, then. Give me the stuff and beat it.” The waiters walked to the couch trying quite obviously to not notice she was naked. They piled the clothes onto Siln's opened arms and beat a hasty retreat. She had looked into Van's finances some time ago. The investments made in his behalf were paying off nicely. In fact, Van was the richest person she had ever met. He could easily afford four-hundred commons for the kids. Anyway, it was great fun.

  She turned to see if Van had recovered from his drunken stupor. His eyes were open but were blank and unfocused. His tongue was hanging out of the side of his mouth. He was not asleep. It was no use trying to rouse him, he was somewhere far away.

  * * * *

  She clutched her handbag to her chest as she panted in the darkness. The biting breeze that moaned through the alleyway clawed through her sheer camisole. Her low-heel pumps made too much noise and were to slick on the wet pavement. She had nearly fallen twice already during her mad escape from the two men chasing her. She took them off and carefully hid them under a large sheet of cardboard. She breathed through her open mouth, trying to make as little noise as possible The rough, broken cement was cold under her feet Her coat was too tight for running. She had shed it earlier and it had been spotted by one of the suited men. She was not going to make that same mistake with her shoes. She had had to double back and throw them off her trail. She could see them at the end of the next block searching the crevices and dark corners of the dim street.

  She was dressed entirely in black now that the red coat had been shed. The alley she had taken refuge in was too dark and littered to pass through quietly. She made a desperate decision. The street was dark. She edged out of the alley and away from the men. Her bare feet were quiet. One of the men looked in her direction. She froze. He turned back to the doorways he was searching and she edged her way on. The next alley she came to was
worse than the one before. The two men turned a street corner at the end of the block. She continued moving cautiously, any noise might draw their attention. She turned the corner on the next street and began quietly trotting down street.

  This part of town was unfamiliar to her. Her haunts were up the hill in the civilized estates nestled among the trees. She could not reach them on foot and she would not risk driving her bullet-ridden car. She stopped and checked her purse for change. Thank God she had the presence of mind to take it with her. She would not use her credit card to make a call; they might be able to track it. She had no idea of who was trying to kill her or why. She worried that her husband might be dead. She found a quarter in her purse and clutched it to her chest as if in prayer. She had to find a phone. It couldn't be on the street. It couldn't be in front of a well-lit convenience store. A bar, she had to find a bar. She ran quietly down the street until lights in the distance held a promise. Picking up her speed, she ran into a bar and looked out the door to see if she had been spotted. Satisfied she had not been seen, she turned to look for a phone. The room was almost full with working-class men, the sort of which she never spoke to. All eyes were focused on her. Her face flushed. They could easily identify her if they were questioned.

  She tried to act casual as she walked to the bar and asked the bartender if there was a phone. He gave her a flat stare and pointed to the back of the room. She straightened her clothing and walked past the leering men. The phone was located near the restrooms. The odor was repulsive. She picked up the receiver wondering what sort of foul creature had used it before her. There was no time for squeamishness. She called Clara.

  “Hello,” answered a young girl.

  “Hello Nancy, is your mother home?” She tried to keep her voice even but she was shaking and so was her voice.

  “Mom! It's for you,” the young girl shouted with her mouth too close to the handset.

  “Hello,” Clara answered sounding frustrated.

  “Clara, it's Jackie,” she whispered though the low rumple of the bar.