Nightmare se-2

by Steven Harper

  "Eighty-three, eighty-four …"

  It wasn’t easy. Both Dornas were dodging, staying in continual motion. A bead of sweat trickled down Kendi’s temple. Dorna ran, leaped, darted. The distance between her two images grew, making it even harder. And then there were three of her. Kendi gasped in amazement. It felt like he was being pulled in three different directions, but he was determined to keep his mental eye on her.

  "Ninety-seven, ninety-eight …"

  He was being pulled apart, yanked in too many directions. But he had to keep track of her. He would keep track of her. The Dornas moved again. There was a strange wrench.

  When Kendi opened his eyes, he was flying.

  There were thirteen roses. Ara counted them twice.

  A few red petals had scattered themselves across the coffee table in Vera Cheel’s bright, airy house. The windows were closed against the rain that battered the windows and Ara smelled the chemicals spread by the technicians in their search for only they knew what. She remembered the roses being on the table the first time she had visited Cheel’s house so she could recreate the murder in the Dream, but she hadn’t thought anything of them.

  Thirteen roses. Fourteen minus one?

  There was no card. Tan was examining a delivery box she had found in the kitchen wastebasket. It was white with red lettering. "Fran’s Flowers," Tan read. "Let’s see what they have to say."

  A quick call, however, revealed that Fran’s Flowers had no record of a delivery to Vera Cheel’s house, nor had she bought flowers from them recently.

  "Let’s see what else," Tan said in her harsh voice. "Betting on the bedroom."

  It took less than a minute to find the pile of underwear beneath the bed. Tan, her hands protected with close-fitting gloves, fished them out and counted them.

  "Thirteen pairs of panties," she said, settling back on her heels.

  "You think there were fourteen and the killer took one?" Ara said.

  "Under the bed’s an unlikely place to store clean underwear, so I’d say probably." Tan produced a large evidence bag and carefully placed the panties in it for lab analysis. "Have to figure out what it all means. How we can use this to catch the bastard."

  Ara sat on the bed feeling uncertain and a bit queasy. Watching Tan shove Vera Cheel’s underwear into a bag felt like a gross invasion of privacy. The woman’s body was already lying naked on an autopsy table at Guardian headquarters, and now two strangers were going through her most private possessions. Would a stranger sort through Ara’s underwear the day after she died?

  "It’s a sequence," Tan muttered. She sealed the bag. "A delivery, a murder, a removal of three things. One of the delivered items, a private item of the victim, a finger. The delivery is-what? A gift? A warning? Then things are taken away."

  "Including the victim’s life," Ara said.

  "Hmmm …yes." Tan crossed her legs on the floor. "Control measure? Serial killers murder their victims as a way to control them. Because they feel they have no control themselves."

  A flash of insight struck Ara. "He isn’t a strong person in the real world," she said. "He’s weak there-or he thinks he is-which is why he kills in the Dream. Since the women die in the Dream, he needs to show some control over her solid body as well. He uses intimate objects to gain it."

  "Sounds reasonable," Tan said. "So why does he cut off their fingers and sew them onto the next victim?"

  Ara shuddered. "I don’t know. It seems related to the addition/subtraction idea, though."

  "Each victim gets a present," Tan rasped. "Then the killer takes part of that present and a piece of the corpse. He also takes an item of clothing-"

  "Which the victim no longer needs," Ara pointed out.

  "— and he keeps it as a souvenir." Tan brought her braid over her shoulder and toyed with it. "Serial killers usually become obsessed with their victims. I wonder if he sends them anything else. Something the woman doesn’t keep?"

  "Flowers and chocolates are traditional tokens of love," Ara said.

  Tan straightened. "You’re right! I’m stupid! He delivers a love token. When his victim-she doesn’t even realize what’s going on-doesn’t melt into his arms, he feels spurned. Rejected. So he comes back. Kills her."

  "And taking back part of the love token is only ‘fair,’ since she scorned him."

  Tan nodded. "Need to check the rest of this house. Then the other ones."

  They searched the rest of Cheel’s house, but found no more sets of thirteen. By this time, the rain had slacked off to a few breezy droplets and Ara was getting hungry. The two of them retired to the restaurant they had eaten lunch in. When Tan gave her order, her voice had become so harsh, it was barely more than a whisper. After the server left, Tan reached for her water glass.

  "Why does that happen?" Ara asked abruptly.

  Tan peered at her over the rim of her glass. "Why does what happen?"

  "Your voice," Ara explained. "It’s beautiful in the Dream, but in the solid world it’s …different."

  "Euphemism for nasty," Tan said blandly.

  "No, just-"

  "I know what I sound like, Mother," Tan interrupted. "It isn’t pretty."

  "If you don’t like talking about it," Ara said, getting embarrassed, "you don’t have to-"

  "No secret," Tan said. "My voice in the Dream is what I used to sound like in the solid world. Then that changed."

  "An injury?"

  Tan nodded. "Took an elbow in the throat breaking up a bar fight. Kid not much older than Kendi. Crushed my vocal cords. Took two operations to give me my voice back. I’m lucky to talk at all, though that depends on your point of view. Kid who elbowed me is a Father at the monastery these days. Teaches math or something."

  "I’m sorry," Ara said.

  Tan shrugged. "Nothing you did. I adjusted. Let’s talk about the guy who collects fingers." She brought out her computer pad and Ara followed suit. Two screens popped into view over the table.

  "We can’t search the houses of the other victims," Tan rasped. "Their houses were all sold a long time ago. But we have holograms, photographs, inventories. Let’s skim the reports. See if the on-sight Guardians mentioned finding anything."

  This work went quite a lot faster. They got through the scenes and inventories of Wren Hamil’s house before the food arrived. It was an easier job for Ara to stomach. Photos, holograms, and lists of words were a lot less personal than handling clothes once worn by a woman now lying beaten and bloody on an examination table.

  They continued to work as they ate, pouring over the information from Prinna Meg’s house.

  "There!" Tan said, stabbing at a holographic list with her fork. "That’s it!"

  "What?" Ara asked, leaning forward. "I don’t see-"

  "The book. I remember it now. Prinna Meg wasn’t an antiquarian. Weren’t any hardcopy books in her house, in fact, except this one. I didn’t think much of it because I wasn’t looking for it. See the title?"

  "Ten Love Sonnets by William Shakespeare," Ara read.

  "Except," Tan said, "there were only nine. The last one had been torn out."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  If I give you wings, will you ever fly?

  — Irfan Qasad

  Kendi faltered. Her wings folded slightly and she was falling. She snapped them outward again and-

  wings?

  — righted herself. Hot, dry air rushed over her feathers. The ground was far, far below, but her eyes made out every detail. Even tiny movements grabbed her attention-

  feathers?

  — and the five people below her stood out in sharp detail. One of the people looked upward and staggered a bit. Dark skin, slender build, curly black hair. Falcon eyes met human eyes, and falcon Kendi dove straight down. Human Kendi raised an arm and falcon Kendi landed on it with a flurry of wings and feathers. The moment falcon Kendi touched down, a moment of dizziness swept over her. She was sitting on a wiry forearm-

  she?

  — and at the same
time standing on hot Outback sand. The dizziness passed and she clacked her beak. Human Kendi hesitantly touched falcon Kendi’s feathers and falcon Kendi half-closed her eyes, leaning into the comforting touch.

  Other humans gathered around, staring. Falcon Kendi watched them through hooded eyes, suspicious. Then human Kendi flung his arm up and with a high, shrill cry falcon Kendi flung her wings open and clawed the air for altitude. In moments, she was high in the free, clear sky.

  Kendi shaded his eyes in astonishment as the falcon dwindled into a tiny black speck against the blue. He could no longer feel her mind, but he remembered gliding on the air and dropping down to land on her brother’s arm. Every memory the falcon had was also his own. A breathless excitement rushed through him like adrenaline. Ultralights and aircraft didn’t even come close.

  "What the hell?" Jeren said beside him.

  "She’s my sister," Kendi said, awed. "When we touch, I know what she’s thinking. Wow! Wow!"

  "Where did she come from?" Willa asked.

  "I don’t know. She was just …there." He noticed the itch behind his eyes was growing stronger. His drugs were wearing off. If he didn’t leave the Dream soon, he would eventually be yanked out of it, and all his teachers said it was an unpleasant way to leave the Dream. Some Silent ended up bed-ridden for days from the shock. "I have to get out of here. My stuff’s wearing off."

  "Yeah, me too," Kite said. "Let’s talk in the solid world."

  Kendi shut his eyes. If it be in my the best interest and in the best interest of all life everywhere, he thought, let me leave the Dream.

  He opened his eyes back in Ara’s living room. The rain had slowed to a few big drops that pattered against the window in irregular splashes. He disentangled himself from the red spear as the others began to open their eyes and stretch. Clanking sounds issued from behind Ben’s closed bedroom door.

  "Whatappen?" Kite blurted.

  "Yeah," Dorna said, perching herself cross-legged on the sofa. "What was that falcon all about?"

  Kendi fidgeted. It was hard to sit still. He got up and paced the floor. "I’m not sure. I felt like I was being pulled in two directions at once, and then suddenly I was in two places at once. I was me, and I was also the falcon. It was …it was a real rush, you know?"

  "Should we try it again?" Kite said, slowing down. "Go back into the Dream and see if Kendi can bring back the falcon?"

  "We should call a teacher," Willa said quietly. "Mother Ara or one of the other Parents."

  "Mother Ara’s out with-" Kendi paused. "She’s out. I don’t know how to get hold of her. I want to do it again."

  "Maybe Ben would know how to get hold of her," Willa said. "You should have someone with you, Kendi. Someone who knows what’s going on."

  Impatience seized Kendi. He wanted to get back into the Dream. He wanted to fly again, feel the air rush past his head. But he had to admit there was merit in what Willa said. He crossed quickly to Ben’s door, knocked once, and opened it. Ben, face red with exertion, set down the barbell in surprise.

  "What’s going on?" he asked.

  Kendi quickly explained. Ben got up and came into the living room. "I’ve never heard of anything like that," he said. "But I’m not-not Silent, so there’s a lot I don’t know."

  "Can you get hold of your mom?" Kendi asked.

  "Maybe." Ben tapped the living room wall and a section glowed into a viewscreen. "Eliza, page Mom. Tell her to call home."

  "Working," said the house computer. Several moments passed and Kendi continued to fidget. The Dream was calling to him. He barely noticed that he was standing close enough to Ben to feel his body heat.

  "Mother Araceil is unavailable," the computer reported.

  "No surprise," Ben muttered. "She’s never available."

  "Try Father Ched-Hisak," Willa said. "Or Grandfather Melthine."

  Ben relayed the instructions. "Father Ched-Hisak is unavailable," said the computer. "Grandfather Melthine is unavailable."

  "Well, shit," Jeren said. "Come on, Kendi. It’s not your fault you can’t reach them. Let’s go and see what you can do."

  "We should wait," Dorna cautioned. "Nothing’s going to change between now and when someone shows up."

  "I agree," Willa said. "It could be dangerous."

  "It didn’t hurt me before," Kendi pointed out. "It felt great! I want to go back in now and make sure I can do it again."

  Ben put a hand on Kendi’s arm. "You might want to wait," he said. "It sounds to me like you’re splitting up your mind, and someone with experience should watch you."

  "You can watch my real body," Kendi told him. "I’ll wear a medical monitor and you can keep an eye on the readout. If something starts to go wrong, you shout for help."

  "I don’t-" Ben began.

  "Ben, I have to go in," Kendi said. "I can’t hold off. Come on-help me out. Please?"

  Ben gave him a long look, uncertainty written all over his face. After a long moment, he nodded. "All right. I’ll get the monitor."

  Kendi grabbed him in a rough hug. "Thanks!"

  "Okay, okay," Ben said breathlessly. "Not so rough!"

  Kendi instantly let go and felt his face grow hot. It had felt so natural to embrace Ben that he hadn’t even thought. But Ben’s reaction hadn’t been positive. He hadn’t even hugged back.

  I guess, Kendi thought, that answers my question about him. Well, we can still be friends.

  Ben, meanwhile, left the room and came back with the wristband sensor and the readout monitor. Kendi slipped the band on and went back to the others in the living room, his enthusiasm a little dampened. Ben followed. The Silent trainees were already arranging themselves on chairs and couch. Jeren handed Kendi his red spear and red dermospray.

  "Let’s do this bitch," he said.

  "We meet," Kendi said firmly, "on my turf," and the others nodded.

  Once Ben determined that the readout unit was working properly, Kendi positioned himself on his spear, injected himself, and shut his eyes.

  If it be in my best interest and in the best interest of all life everywhere, he thought, let me enter the Dream.

  A few moments later, the five students were once again standing beneath the golden sun and azure sky of Kendi’s Outback. Kendi dressed them in the usual khaki explorer outfits, though he himself was shirtless, with bare feet and white shorts. Going naked or wearing a loincloth in front of a Ched-Balaar was one thing. Doing either in front of his fellow human students was quite another.

  "How it work?" Kite said. "What did you do?"

  "I’m not completely sure," Kendi admitted. "It happened when I was trying to find Dorna." Something occurred to him, and he turned to face her. Her dark hair curled out from under her pith helmet. "How did you do that?"

  "Do what?" she asked.

  "Make it seem like you’re in two places at once. Is it like the way you can interfere with people finding you?"

  She shook her head. "I don’t know what you mean."

  "Whenever I tried to find you in the hide and seek game," Kendi said, "it felt like you were in two or three different places. I meant to ask you about it, but then the falcon showed up and I forgot."

  "I don’t do any such thing," Dorna said. "Really. Maybe you’re just misreading, or you’re sensing people who have similar thoughts to mine. I mean, you’ve only been using the Dream for a week."

  Kendi’s first thought was that Dorna was lying. But here in the Dream, lies were impossible.

  "Yeah, okay," he said. "Let me try it again."

  He closed his eyes and tried to recall the sensation of being pulled in two directions at once. It should have been hard-they weren’t playing the game anymore and Dorna was standing right beside him. But it turned out be easy. A few seconds later, a high scream shrilled on the wind, and the small falcon circled overhead. Kendi opened his eyes.

  "Is that you?" Willa looked up, shading her eyes.

  "Yeah. I know she’s there, but I can’t tell what she’s thinkin
g. Not right now."

  "She?" Kite said.

  Kendi nodded. "The falcon’s a female. I don’t know why. She just is."

  An internal voice poked at him. Is it because you like men? But Kendi pushed the thought away. The falcon was who she was, and that was all. He pursed his lips and whistled. The falcon instantly dove for the ground. Kendi held up an arm and she landed, making a surprisingly light, feathery bundle. The moment she touched him, he felt himself both standing on the ground and perched on his own arm. Memories of rushing air and hot sun coursed through him and he staggered a little. The falcon flapped her wings to keep her balance until the vertigo passed. Her talons were long and sharp, but they didn’t do the least bit of injury to Kendi’s arm.

  Why should she? he thought. She’s me.

  The others moved closer to examine the falcon and made impressed-sounding noises.

  "She’s you?" Willa said.

  "That’s what it feels like," Kendi said.

  "You’re schizo," Jeren put in. "Shit, you’ve split your mind into pieces."

  "I’m not crazy," Kendi said defensively. "What the hell kind of remark is that?"

  Jeren shrugged. "I just call it like I see it."

  Ripples washed through the Outback and Kendi spun around. The falcon flapped again. Approaching them was a man. Kendi automatically drew back. It was the dark man, the one who had killed Vera Cheel. He was coming to get-

  "Hi!" the man called. "Can I approach? Is everything here okay?"

  It wasn’t the dark man. This man was tall and blond and he wore blue overalls. A belt of tools hung around his waist and he had large, callused hands. Kendi remembered him. It was the man whose turf Kendi had stumbled onto during the game a while ago.

  "We’re okay," Kite said. "Come over. Who’re you?"

  "Name’s Buck," he replied. "My turf’s just over that way and I felt something weird, right? So I thought I’d come over and make sure everyone was okay."