Dream thief

by Stephen R. Lawhead

  In his perverted way, Hocking loved her. The nearness of the young woman during the long sessions in Ortu's palace had gone to his heart. Seeing her fearlessly face her task for the sake of her beloved stirred him strangely, and he began to imagine that it was for him that she sacrificed herself. He imagined also that she had grown to love him as he loved her, though he had never so much as breathed of his feelings for her.

  At last he turned away and the chair whisked itself to another part of the room and another couch. He paused here, too, and his glance sharpened once more to his normal arrogance. He began speaking in low, menacing tones.

  "You should not have come, alien. There is nothing but death for you. I will destroy you in the end. I must. You cannot be allowed to live on here, and where we are going there is no place for you. But for a little while you are still valuable to me."

  The great elongated form lay still.

  Hocking turned away from the inert Martian and went back to gazing at his bank of vidscreens which showed various scenes of Gotham's citizenry sleeping between the pulses of the tanti projections. "This, my children, is but a taste. Soon you will be completely in my power." He looked at the chronometer, counting down the time to the next pulse. "Very soon."

  31

  …

  SPENCE WALKED TO THE end of the docking bay to a maintenance platform and then stood poised for a moment before jumping off. He jumped awkwardly, kicking in his minithruster a fraction of a second too late. He failed to escape GM's artificial gravity as gracefully as he had planned. He banged his leg on the edge of the platform as he came back down; then the thruster on his back took over and lifted him away.

  Once free he maneuvered himself deftly, turning to draw away from the station backwards. He floated along the surface of the gigantic torus, as the station spun slowly beneath him. Above, some distance away, hung the great circular radio antenna with its long snout. He rose toward it, scanning the station as it passed beneath him.

  Spence felt the thrill of space walking, but tried to suppress it and center his mind on the more urgent task at hand. Still, he could not help stealing glances at the infinite star-spangled face of the deep and at the quarter-crescent of blue-green Earth rising beyond the further horizon of the station.

  A cylinder, he thought. Where is this cylinder? He scanned the rotating station for anything that looked even vaguely cylindrical. He punched his thruster and drew further away from GM's horizon. Then he saw it-lit by the brilliant white and yellow work lights of the construction crews. The new telescope housing. It looks like a cylinder.

  Spence scanned the construction site and saw pieces of long metal girders floating in space, and large duralum sheets in stacks near the central tower. Tiny workmen-in special suits that made them look like miniature spaceships-floated motionless nearby.

  Hiding in plain sight, he thought. An image flashed to mind of Hocking, a venomous spider, bloated by hate and an insatiable lust for power, sitting in the darkness of his foul lair, spinning his treacherous webs. The image revolted him. And now he was about to enter that spider's presence.

  He flew over the construction site and down to the telescope housing. When he came near enough, he jabbed a button on his forearm panel and the magnets in his boots gripped as his feet touched the metal grid of the trafficway. He tilted forward precariously; he had not judged his angle of descent precisely and his forward momentum carried him past vertical. He fell to his knees and banged his helmet on the trafficway. Steady now, he told himself. Stay calm. He picked himself up carefully and noticed a magnetic wrench laying on the grid.

  He picked up the wrench and moved toward the housing. It was a huge cylinder-shaped appendage rising from its cradle on the surface of the torus. When finished, it would be completely detached to allow full and undisturbed viewing of any point in the heavens. But now it was anchored securely to the station. There was a walkway leading toward it and a light above the entrance.

  So, this is where you've been hiding all along, he thought. Well, Hocking-I've found you. Now what?

  He pushed the access plate at the entrance. Nothing happened. He had expected as much, since it was undoubtedly coded and he didn't know the key. But he took the wrench and swung it with as much force as he could into the plate. The mechanism shattered and tiny pieces of plastic flew away in all directions. He smashed the wrench into the circuitry again; there was a bright flash and the portal slid open.

  Spence entered the tiny airlock and went on through. He closed the inner door and then tried the outer. To his surprise it closed, and he heard the hiss of air filling the chamber. When the light changed from red to green he took off his helmet and struggled out of his suit.

  The inner door slid open automatically and he crossed the small anteroom to the lift tube. He walked forward on wooden legs and stepped in. His stomach tightened and his heart beat fast. He could feel sweat on his back and under his arms. An unsteady finger reached out and touched the lift button. …

  AT THE SOUND oF the lift tube sighing up from below, Hocking turned away from the console; an expression of concern flickered across his wasted features. The lift stopped and the panel slid aside and Reston stepped out.

  "You!" gasped Hocking. His eyes showed momentary surprise which was covered instantly.

  "It's over, Hocking." Spence glared at his enemy steadily. "Your little game is finished."

  "Liar!" spat Hocking. "Look for yourself-" He pointed to a bank of vidscreens showing the work of the tanti-the whole station was a morgue of still bodies held in suspended animation. The Dream Thief's terrible machine had done its work well.

  "Give it up," said Spence.

  "Ha!" Hocking whirled back to him. "You have plagued me from the beginning-you and that stubborn will of yours. You may pride yourself on your accomplishment, Reston. You resisted when no one else could-anyone else would have succumbed long ago. But not you."

  "You're stalling."

  "Silence! Ortu was right about you. You are dangerous. But it's different now. I wear the kastak. " He nodded slightly and the narrow band gleamed on his forehead. "You see, this time you will not escape."

  "Where are they, Hocking? What have you done with Ari and Kyr?"

  "You fool!" Hocking drew nearer. "Save your breath; you will need it. I mean to crush you like an insect."

  "Where's Ari?" Spence demanded. He noticed Hocking's eyes shift toward a partition across the room. He went to it and pushed it aside. Ari was lying on a cav couch. The sight of her stunned Spence. He turned with fists clenched at his side. "If you've hurt her, so help me-"

  "You can do nothing!" Hocking's chair rose higher in the air and came closer. Spence waited, not knowing yet what he would do.

  Hocking leered down at him. "I am your master, Reston. Say it.

  "Never!"

  "Say it!" roared Hocking. His face was now very near Spence's.

  Spence stared steadily back at his enemy but refused to speak.

  "Say it!" cried Hocking and as he did so the kastak flashed. There was a cracking sound and a bolt leapt from the pneumochair and struck Spence in the chest.

  He felt that jolt pass through him and his whole frame was shaken as by an electrical charge. He flew backwards several meters through the air and landed on his back.

  "Now we'll see who has won!" crowed Hocking.

  The penumochair slid closer. Spence, his vision blurred by tears of pain, squirmed and got up on his knees. He braced himself.

  Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the flash. Instantaneously the charge struck him again and slammed him to the floor. He rolled to his side and turned his face toward the lift tube, half-expecting to see Adjani dashing to his aid. But no one would come. He was alone.

  A sick feeling spread through the pit of his stomach. Spence knew that he was going to die. He heard Hocking's demented laughter pinging around the room's metallic walls. Hocking had conquered after all.

  The thought stirred anger in him. My God! He thoug
ht. After all I've been through! To die at this madman's hands! God, help me! He pushed himself up on his limbs and knees.

  A third blast jerked his limbs out from under him and his head struck the floor. Fiery yellow balls of pain exploded before his eyes and he saw Hocking's face in them, taunting him, mocking him.

  "Say it!" Hocking screamed. "Say it and you will die quickly." 'No! Spence shouted. He rolled himself up on all fours.

  Another bolt hit him and he felt a weakness in his arms and legs. His breathing was becoming labored. The repeated blasts were draining vital energy and clouding his mind with pain. He felt his strength ebbing. The tanti, he thought. If he could get to the control and disable it, there might be a chance.

  Slowly, straining every nerve and fiber, he rose, placing his hands on his knees. He raised his head and looked at Hocking who bobbed nearer, his face twisted into a grotesque mask of hate.

  "You can't kill me, Hocking." The words came slowly and with difficulty. His tormentor loomed nearer. "And you can't make me bow to you."

  "No? In a few moments you will beg for death. You will acknowledge me!" Hocking tilted his head back and laughed; his head shook wobbily on his thin neck.

  Spence heard again the cracking sound and instantly another bolt struck him. It staggered him back a few paces, but he did not go down. Though he might die, he would not allow himself to go down again.

  Hocking propelled himself closer, coming in range to deliver the killing blow. The kastak shone like a beacon on his head. Spence let him come.

  Now he could hear Hocking's breathing. It seemed to fill the whole room. He moved toward the console. The crackling sound was building again. Hocking drew closer. Spence tottered forward slowly with his head down.

  Spence did not look at him but continued on.

  "Stop!" cried Hocking. "You'll never live to reach those controls. "

  Just as Hocking closed on him Spence jerked his head up and looked to the side. "Ari!" he cried.

  Hocking awkwardly turned his head toward the couch where the young woman lay. She was there, asleep as before; she had not moved.

  "You won't-" he began, but was cut off as Spence leaped toward him, snatching at the thin tangle of wires that emerged from the base of his skull. "Ahhk!" he screamed.

  Hocking squirmed and the chair dodged to the side. Spence grabbed the wires and hung with all his might.

  There was a tremendous snap. Spence's arm was wrenched from his shoulder; he felt it leave the socket.

  He looked and saw he held a handful of loose wires.

  In the same instant Hocking's chair crashed to the floor and its occupant was tossed out like a rag doll as its circuits sputtered and fused, sending gray smoke and sparks into the air. Hocking rocked on the floor helplessly, emaciated limbs splayed-a pathetic puppet without strings. The kastak slipped from his head and rolled across the floor out of reach. He jerked and twitched and then lay still, moaning, eyelids fluttering.

  Spence, grasping his arm at the shoulder, stood over the crumpled figure for a moment and then turned away. It was over, but he felt no joy at winning.

  He went to Ari's couch. The awful stillness of her body made the breath catch in his throat.

  "She is not dead." Spence swiveled to see Kyr standing over Hocking's body behind him. "But this one is." A long hand indicated the skeletal body. A small pool of blood was spreading beneath Hocking's skull. He stopped to pick up the kastak at his feet. It still pulsed with its strange power.

  "Kyr, you're all right." Spence sank down beside the couch.

  The Martian bent his long frame over Ari's bed. He studied her face for a moment and then touched the rim of the kastak to her forehead. "You have released me from the hold of that one. I will release her from the sleep of the Dream Thief."

  Kyr closed his eyes and a deep thrumming sound filled the room. Spence sensed a warming flow of energy moving around him. It lasted only a moment and then Kyr stopped. There was a long sigh. Kyr removed the band, but Ari's features still bore the deathlike traces of her sleep.

  Spence blinked back hot tears. He clutched one of her cold hands to him as his mouth seemed to fill with bitter ashes. "Oh, Ari," he cried. "Ari!"

  He felt Kyr's hand on him. "Let your tears be of joy, Earth friend. The Dream Thief's power is broken."

  Spence raised his head slowly, hesitantly, and found himself looking into the loveliest blue eyes he had ever seen.

  32

  …

  THE PARTY BUBBLED AROUND him like a pot beginning to boil. Spence stood to one side with his arm in a sling, nursing a glass of apricot-colored champagne, watching the bubbles rise and burst as knots of guests crowded this or the other hero and the stories were told and retold to ever-eager listeners. Of all the figures in the drama of the moment only Spence remained aloof and alone, as much by choice as by chance.

  The party had been Director Zanderson's idea-a way to reward in part the loyalty of the faithful and to thank his rescuers. After a lavish dinner the long tables had been removed and what the director called an "intimate" reception commenced, which seemed to include the whole of the station's population.

  Kyr, of course, was the main attraction. Every eye in the room strayed constantly in his direction. Even Spence found himself from time to time watching the Martian, towering head and shoulders over the throng pressed around him. The room sparkled with energy, as if high-voltage live wires were pumping electricity into the air. Spence could almost guess what the headlines would read like back on Earth.

  Kalnikov, sporting a bandaged wrist, and Packer, his left eye blackened by a blow he had received in the tangle with Ramm and his men, wore their wounds like badges of courage as they held forth to a mixed audience of MIRA technicians and third -year men and others of the sort who were mesmerized by the intricacies of the computer-cracking caper. Adjani was besieged by a crowd who hung on his every word and murmured amazement as they plied him with questions concerning the adventure.

  Gita, whose natural innocence and charm made him an immediate celebrity among the Gothamites, kept a large coterie of well-wishers laughing with tales of adventures real and imagined, all told in his inimitable fashion.

  August Zanderson, in top form, directed what amounted to a roving press conference as he visited each group in turn to extol in ringing platitudes the bravery and fortitude of all concerned.

  Spence had heard the stories, too. The quick-thinking Ramm and his men, combing the air shafts, searching out the loyalists' hideout, were hit along with everyone else by the tanti's pulse. Upon recovery they continued the search, stumbling into the hideout, still dazed. Luckily, most of the loyalists had awakened by the time Ramm reached them. A quick combat ensued in which several cadets got darted by sluggish security men, and in which Kalnikov distinguished himself as a pugilist of the first magnitude-laying out Ramm and three of the more obstinate of his men in as many swipes of his great fists. Packer, too, used his fists to good account, and the remaining rebels offered no further resistance.

  Dr. Williams, alone and confused, barricaded himself in his office where he was collected in due course, surrendering peace fully in exchange for consideration in the prosecution of his case by GM attorneys.

  Zanderson and Gita recaptured AdSec, having little difficulty subduing the sleeping Wermeyer. The director was back at the helm by the time the effects of the tanti had worn off-much to the chagrin of his former assistant. The director had then gone on the air, broadcasting over the loudspeaker system of Gotham, to reassure a groggy and bewildered populace. After the initial shock, the space station had slowly gone back to business.

  It was all over, but the retelling.

  Spence sighed and glanced around. He had not seen Ari but for a brief moment before dinner. He craned his neck, hoping to catch a glimpse of her-last seen, she had been surrounded by a flock of her friends and a gaggle of doe-eyed young functionaries from the AdSec pool.

  "Looking for someone?"

  "Tell y
ou the truth, I was looking for you." Spence looked into his glass.

  "How sweet."

  "I… uh, guess you're glad to be back…" Imbecile! he shrieked inwardly. Tell her!

  Ari smiled, but the light in her eyes dimmed somewhat. "Yes, I am glad to be back. Aren't you?"

  "Oh, sure… I guess." Spence looked away. How could he tell her all the things he wanted to say? It was not the time or the place-it was all wrong. Something had changed between them and that fact loomed like a dark cloud over both of them. "That's great about your mother."

  "Yes, isn't it? The doctors say there's a better-than-even chance she'll get better. Daddy even talked to her this morning. She's certainly undergone a dramatic improvement-almost overnight. I'm so happy. I…" She let her voice trail off and then said softly, "Spencer, have I done something to hurt you?"

  The question stung him. "No!" He looked up quickly. "What makes you say that?"

  She shrugged and tilted her head to one side. "You do-the way you're treating me. Avoiding me all day, and now tonight…"

  "The way I'm treating you-"

  "You have to admit you haven't been very friendly since we've been back."

  Spence colored and looked away. How could she blame him for the coolness she felt-it was her doing, not his. He struggled for a reply, but was saved by Adjani's sudden appearance.

  "There you two are! I was hoping I'd get to see you tonight. I was finally able to break away." He indicated the swarm with his hand. "It's quite a get-together, isn't it?" He noticed the look on Spence's face. "But you don't look like you're enjoying it exactly."

  Oblivious to the tender feelings he might have been trampling on, Adjani blundered ahead. "Ari, did Spence tell you his news?"